It's not a lab, it's not a desk... it's a cow field!

Rural community development is not conventional job. You can’t measure my work by the standards you measure your doctor, your lawyer, or your broker. To cast doubts is normal, if not expected. I have my own. Every day that I awake in Costa Rica I wonder: Do I really need to go to that meeting? Does the group understand why we need a budget? Are the kids learning anything from my classes? Will I do anything sustainable today? and Is it worth it?

You know what? Every day I answer myself: Yes, Very slowly, Sí, Possibly, and Definitely.

Sharing my exciting adventures (and also the mundane activities) is important to me and I appreciate that you tune in to learn about them! But I can write until my fingers bleed and I can talk until your ears fall off. I can try to explain how I live but some aspects must be lived to be understood.

I can tell you about hearing the howl of the congos(1) in the rain, the cock of the gallos(2) at any hour, or about trying to sleep with the snoring cows (I swear, they can be so loud!) But I can’t keep you up all night with their noise. I can tell you about the generosity of my townspeople and their cunning way of saying yes when they really mean no, but you’ll never know what it’s like to walk into your neighbor’s perpetually open door and call out, “¿Cómo amaneció? ”(3) while she hands you bread and cafecito. I can post of picture of the smiles of the children in my school as they participate in their first Halloween ever, but I can’t tell you what it’s like to hear them scream, “Queremos Trick-or-Treat”(4) and have the whole town in a buzz, asking, “¿Qué es lo que quieren?”(5)

Every activity, however thrilling, however dull, is a part of my experience and a part of my contribution. So if you’ve thought, “Gee, all she does is go to meetings!” then try and picture what it takes to execute the meeting, which has all sorts of competition:
· Weather of all sorts (if it’s not rain and mud, then it’s sweltering heat and dust);
· Lack of transportation (particularly when the weather doesn’t cooperate);
· A convention gringos term “Tico time,” when events actually start 1 to 3 hours after the scheduled time;
· That curious Tico trait in which, “Yes, I’m going to the meeting” really means “Ahh, what a nice backyard I have that I’m going to sit in all afternoon.”
If there’s not enough struggle in the accomplishment of gathering the people, there’s certainly more to fight within the meeting itself.
· The idea that tools like schedules, regular meetings, budgets, timelines, etc. are not necessary;
· The idea that a group can manage thousands of dollars with no treasurer or accounting;
· The fact that Costa Rica is moving into the technology age, but leaving its rural areas behind, holding numerous communities without access to grants and other financial and educational opportunities.
· The fact that leadership roles are compromised (and leaders are lacking) due to lack of education and training;
· The list goes on…
Provided that my fight wins out on the first list, I try to change the conventions of the second. Just think, these challenges can only happen after all the fuss of forming the group in the first place! Changing the system has to start from the bottom, but there’s nowhere to go but up. It may be a slow life, but we’re moving. As they say, Poquito a poco(6).

So hold that judgment! Have faith in the turtle; he finished the race in the end.
And I’ll hold on to my esperanza(7) and my faith. In my town and in myself.

[I’ll also continue to update you on all these things I can’t explain!]

1 Howler monkeys
2 Roosters
3 “How did you wake up today?”
4 “We want Trick-or-Treat.”
5 “What is it that they want???”
6 Tiny little bit by little bit
7 Hope
*Translations are literal.

Written a while back...

Día de la Anexión de Guanacaste (GTE)

Background: Guanacaste is the northern Pacific coast province of CR and was traditionally an independent area, drifting between Nicaraguan and CR rule. It has officially been united with Costa Rica since the year 1825, several years after Central America’s separation from Spain. The Guanacastecan citizens independently decided to secede from Nicaragua and join CR. [It’s ironic that being Nicaraguan has “negative” connotations, because Guanacaste was Nicaragua! Many Nica immigrants come to CR seeking work.] Each July 25th Costa Rica (GTE in particular) celebrates the annexation of the best region of the country (I admit, I’m biased!) Schoolchildren dress in traditional campesino clothing and shout bombas, which are short poems, usually romantic but sometimes downright raunchy! The kids discuss the significance of their heritage and enjoy traditional food (guess what - it's rice and beans! Plus corn tortillas and an egg torta, all wrapped in a banana leaf.) Here's some sample bombas, because it's really hard to understand those kids! (Even if you speak Spanish...)

¡Bomba!
La naranja nació verde
y el tiempo la maduró;
mi corazón nació libre
y el tuyo lo aprisionó.
uyuyuy mamita ...

Bomb!
The orange was born green
and with time, matured;
my heart was born free
and yours imprisoned it.
Uyuyuy mamita…

¡Bomba!
No hay cosa más bonita
que la vida de soltero,
para andar cortando flores
sin que lo vea el jardinero.
uyuyuy mamita...

Bomb!
There’s nothing more beautiful
than the single life,
to walk cutting flowers
without the gardener seeing you.
uyuyuy mamita...

Bomba. The word has many uses in CR. A light bulb, a car motor (actually a motor of any kind), the machinery that powers water supply (or any other pump at all), fireworks, a bomb, a gas station, OR these particular love poems.