The Road To Barbacoa

Yesterday I ventured out on foot in search of a view of the Pacific Ocean.  I had been told that there was a mountain top in a neighboring town, Barbacoa, from which, on a clear day, the Ocean could be seen.  The road from Puriscal to Barbacoa is a winding road with many ups and downs.  Some of the hills were so steep that I could stand at a 45 degree angle to the road and not be the least bit strained.  You can imagine the views to be seen from a road that runs up and down the mountains of a country that is primarily rain forest.  

Half way to Barbacoa, I came across a motocross event.  Hundreds of people from the surrounding community were gathered there to watch.  It was set up right along the main road and for anyone who grew up where there were water holes that people go to for swimming in the summer, it felt a lot like that, with cars parked randomly along the roadside and people coming and going.  

When I finally got to Barbacoa (only 4 miles, but don't forget those hills) I was pretty exhausted. I dragged myself into a store and bought a bottle of water and a banana.  In my best Spanish I said, "De donde es la vista de la Oceana Pacifica?"  The woman looked at me puzzled so I repeated myself to which she replied in her best disgusted voice..."Just say it to me in English would ya."  So in the end, she told me I'd have to go another 2 miles up the road and I just didn't think I could do it so I decided to take a rest.  I was standing out like a sore thumb because they are not used to getting tourists in Barbacoa, so I went across the street and entered the catholic church were I felt I could rest without being too conspicuous.  The church was ok from the outside. The siding was sheet metal, but they had made two bell towers in the front to give a better shape than just a big square metal building.  When I walked inside, I was blown away.  It was absolutely gorgeous.  I won't bore you with a description here, but when I get to it, I'll post the photos I took on face book and you can see what I mean.  

So after about a half hour I decided to head home.  I dragged myself up and the mountains again.  As I approached the last major climb into Puriscal, I thought to myself, "I don't think I can make it."   and like a miracle, a Taxi pulled out of some loan driveway out of nowhere.  I, without shame, jumped up and down and yelled to him that I needed a ride.  So, for the last       1 1/2 miles, I rode comfortably in the back of his jeep.  All total, I walked 6 1/2 miles.  It was a great adventure.  Thanks for sharing it with me.

Gratitude

Each day at the nursing home adds a new adventure.  The Nuns there have taken to us and are spending more and more time with us.  Sister Julia Maria asked me on Wednesday if I wanted to try doing everything at the nursing home, to which I agreed.  So my first assignment was to report to the home a half hour early to make beds.  She joined me and began to show me the specific steps required to ensure that each bed has what it needs for the specific resident who sleeps there.  Most beds are made the same but some have different or additional items.  Also, she had to show me things like how to get the sheet to stay on the bed.  It requires tying the corners together at the top and bottom of the mattress.  She also took the opportunity to teach me some Spanish and quizzed me as we worked on each bed.  The pressure was intense.  As one would expect of any good nun worth her salt, she did not tire of quizzing me and did not give me any breaks.  Now I know "primero es una sabana y segundo es un movible, trecero es la covia doble y fin es la colcha."  Es bueno no?

In addition to helping with the beds, many of us go out and help in the laundry while the residents eat their lunch.  In the laundry I met Sor Diguniro.  At first she wasn't sure what to have me do.  She has since figured it out...in spades.  She has had a new bigger, better project for us each day.  On the first day, she rewarded me with some breadsticks out of her own personal stash.  On the second day, we were all served a pitcher of fresh mango juice and some crackers.  Every day that we work, all of the Sisters go on and on about how hard we have worked and how we should go and rest because we deserve it.  They're acknowledgment is so genuine and they are so appreciative of us.     Their appreciaion is striking to me, given that they work like that all day, every day with no days off.  What a generous position to take, to view us as working hard, even when we are doing only a fraction of what they do, and will continue to do, long after we have gone home.  To me, that's gratitude!

Clean Your Plate

As a child, most of us were told to clean our plates.  We were forced to sit at the table until all the food was gone and were told sorrowful stories of children in Africa who were starving.  As adults, it took us a while to realize that just because it is on our plate doesn't mean we have to eat it.  We blamed our hefty waste lines on our parents, and revolted, giving ourselves permission not to eat every last bite .  We began to experience pride when we were able to leave  something on our plate and vowed not to pass the guilt and poor health consequences along to our children.  

This new American standard is very apparent here where the garbage is divided into two cans, one for food waste and one for paper waste.  After every meal, the food waste container is bursting.  It becomes almost impossible not to notice how much food is being thrown away. Some nights, it would appear that as much food goes in the waste bucket as was eaten by the 12 people who are staying here.  In other words, enough food to feed roughly two Costa Rican families.  Not kids in Africa, but kids right next door.  It's eye opening to say the least.

All this said, I do think we were wise to abandon unhealthy habits. I would not advocate that we return to our guilt ridden days of youth when we ate every bite of what was in front of us without regard to our satiated bellies.  Instead, I propose a new next step.  Rather than forcing whatever is on our plates into our mouths, how about we only put on our plates, that which we will eat?  

Recapturing my Youth

Well, for those of you who don't face book regularly, I will begin my blog with the quote of the day.  It went something like this.  (read it in your best Valley Girl voice) "Like, everyone is staying in town today.  Well, except the old people...(room gasps)..Oh, sorry Mat, I didn't see you sitting there."  

And so the day began.  Yesterday the blind led the blind and today the old healed the old.  The work with the seniors at the nursing home was, again, very rewarding.  All was going well until I referred to them, as a group, as Viejos (Old People).  Anyone reading who knows Spanish is already cringing.  Sister Julia Maria was gracious,  but quick to correct me and let me know that the proper word is ancianos which means elderly and obviously sounds better than old people.  Strange that this is the less offensive word when you imagine that it must come from the same latin word from which "ancient" was drawn.  (not a confirmed origin)

Following our placements, the CCS staff drove us to San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica, to see el Museo de Oro (Museum of Gold).  The drive over was very nice.  It's took about an hour and wound us through beautiful mountains.  We haven't seen the sun or blue sky since we arrived Sunday, due to the rain, so you can imagine how green everything is.  The museum was very cool, a collection of gold figurine artifacts that give insights into the influences on the Costa Rican People over the years.  

Since it had been established that the "old people" wouldn't be staying on, I had to do what any self respecting old person would do...prove them youngsters wrong by staying.  The city was very cool.  Much like any large city and then very different at the same time.  I took several pictures and, as soon as I get over my lameness, I'll post some of them on face book.  We returned to Puriscal via bus which cost us a whopping $1.50 US. 

Until next time...

The Blind Leading the Blind

Well, here is my first installment of my Costa Rica experiences.  It's been a whirlwind so far but all is going quite well.  In the last two days, I have had an orientation, a tour of the town, a stretch class, a dance class, a cooking class, a private session learning a Costa Rican song on the guitar, and began my volunteer work.  All in all, they are keeping us very busy.  

The accomodations here are comfortable overall.  I did end up on a top bunk, however, which I was hoping to avoid.  I have two roommates in a room that is about 8' x 12'.  The overall house is nice though, with a beautiful view from the patio. I'll try to post some pics on Face Book soon.  

My volunteer placement, while not an assignment working with children as I had expected, was great today.  I am placed at a Nursing Home for the elderly which is run by the St. Vicientina Nuns.  The men and woman living there all have varying degrees of cognitive and physical ability.  They were very responsive to having people come in to help them.  Our focus is on leading them in exercises and games and then spending one on one time walking them in the garden and talking with them.  

One particular female resident was quite smitten with me.  She kept calling me over to help her with her exercises and would smile the biggest smile whenever she would catch my eye.  She is in late stages of dementia.  The staff told me that they were surprised to see her so happy because she is usually very cranky.  I felt very lucky to make the connection.  

The highlight of the day was when Sister Maria asked to take Cecelio for a walk.  He was using a cane so I took his arm to help stablize him.   As we walked, he kept pushing us more and more toward the wall.  I tried to guide him a little by pushing against his arm but he was persistent and I didn't want to be rude.  Finally, he pushed me so far over that I couldn't fit between him and the rail we were walking next to.  He kept walking and headed straight for a tree.  I decided that I had to take an action so I grabbed hold of him and steered him away from the tree while I held up the branches to keep them from scratching his head.  Moments later, we passed by Sister Maria who casually told me "El es ciego"  (He is blind).  Needless to say, I stopped worrying about being polite and guided him much more assertively, happily, with no further incident.  

Pura Vida!