Memories that will last

When packing for my year-long Costa Rican trip, I took great care in choosing what items to bring. I read all of the advice from the previous volunteers, everything from what to pack to what not to pack. But, there is one item that I did not pack and could not have packed if I had wanted to. But, now, I take it with me everywhere. It's small enough to fit in my purse, but it's always growing bigger. It is none other than my personal Costa Rican Spanish dictionary. I've studied Spanish since the eighth grade, but learning in a classroom setting is like gathering all the ingredients for a recipe but not knowing how to put them together. Living with native speakers has allowed me to discover some of the idiosyncrasies of the language, and with each new word or phrase that I learn, a memory is created of the particular situation or person from whom I learned it. Below, I will spell out a few of those memories for you so that, if you so choose, you can begin learning Costa Rican Spanish through the eyes of La Teacher of Curre.

 Me cuesta - It is difficult for me. The other volunteers and I spent the first month in the beautiful valley of Orosi for orientation. We attended several social nights to get to know one another and our host families better. One such game night, we were playing Bingo. Our lovely director was calling out numbers. Whenever she came to a number that carried a three, she kindly passed it off to another person, admitting that "me cuesta decir tres en espanol." Literally, it means that it is costly for her to say threes in Spanish. But, honestly, we didn't charge her a thing!

 Como amanecio? - How did you sleep? It didn't take long for me to realize that asking "How did you sleep?" would only merit a few strange looks or sarcastic responses like, "on my back." But rather, Ticans literally ask, "How did you break dawn?" Makes more sense if you ask me. How am I supposed to know how I slept? I was sleeping!

 Averiguar - to find out. This year, I was assigned to teach in Rey Curre, a small indigenous town in the hot, southern region of the country. A local here in Curré helped me to put my thumb on this word, a very useful word to describe my biggest task for the first week of classes: to find out what they students already know and what they don't know. With 66 students in grades 1st - 6th and 10 previous volunteers, I had my work cut out for me.

 Brincar - to jump On arriving to Curré, I had to orient myself to the school. It's an inviting place with open-air classrooms, a mural of the masked Indigenous figures on the outside wall, and a bright blue gate out front. Within the first week, I found myself asking the director how I would enter the school if no one was there to unlock the gate. I figured she would offer to have a key made, but her solution was much simpler: just jump the fence!

 Cera - wax used to shine floors or cars Some of the other volunteers have had quite the time helping the Spanish-speakers pronounce their English names. I'm lucky in that Sara is really easy for them to say, but it does sound different in Spanish than in English. Don't get me wrong, I love the way they say it, but I thought it would be fun to teach some of the high school students how it is said in the States. As it turns out, it's easy for them to remember given its similarity to another very common Spanish word. At the very least, I know they will think of me every time they are waxing their floors.

 Jale - Come on! The rainy season has begun and the river is muddied and rising, but earlier in the year, one of my 6th graders' favorite pastimes was going to the river to go for a swim. "Jale! Jale! Jale! Let's go to the river after classes," they would say. It is so hot here, so the water feels great! But, watch out for the crocodiles!

 Rojo - the color red; the colloquial way to refer to 1,000 colones One of my friends and a respected artesian in the town took the time to teach me this nickname for the commonly used bill worth 1,000 colones, named as such for its dominantly red predecessor. (It may sound like a lot, but it is actually the equivalent of $2.) Now, I can sound just like the locals and break a 2,000 colones bill with "2 reds."

 Venga - Come here When Semana Santa came around, I was blessed to host my parents for the week as we traveled around to see the country. In Manuel Antonio, we made our favorite memory thanks to a very entertaining and conscientious tour guide who nearly went hoarse in his effort to call the monkeys out: "venGA! venGA!" And, it wasn't for not, because the white-faced monkeys did come and even made themselves at home on our heads, eating bananas from our hands.

 Dejar plantada - To leave one stranded After living here a short time, it quickly became evident to me that I can't do without some sort of exercise everyday for my mental and physical well-being. For several weeks in a row, I grew accustomed to going to the soccer field to run or to pretend to play soccer. (I spent 10 years swimming competitively, so I can't make any claims to great coordination on the soccer field.) One particular week, everyone made plans to meet at the soccer field on a Saturday morning to do exercises and drills. I awoke with enthusiasm, laced up my tennis shoes, and arrived at the soccer field at the top of the hour. A half hour later, when it was still just me and the herd of pigs at one corner of the field, I started to grow weary of waiting. A friend ambled by and confirmed my suspicions that sure enough, the practice had been canceled but no one told the Teacher: they left me stranded!

 El cordero - the lamb In this case, it is in reference to Jesus Christ, or the "lamb of God," a title commonly found in Christian songs and hymns. I recently found myself needing to learn the meaning behind the word, as I was practicing a song to sing at the local Evangelical church. I've been attending for several weeks and have found it to be a great source of encouragement and joy. Not to mention, I really enjoy getting to know members of the community better and practicing my Spanish.

 Comase su dedo grande - Eat your big thumb I live with a big family, 6 children and more than 7 grandchildren. At any given time that I enter the kitchen, there could be anywhere from 1 to 10 people present, and for some reason they all seem to think that my only reason for coming to the kitchen is because I'm hungry. (Sometimes they're wrong. Haha!) Anyway, they've taken to teasing me about that from time to time. My host sister has been known to ask me on more than one occasion, "are you hungry?" only to then quickly follow it up with "well, then, eat your big thumb."

 This is a list that is by no means complete and continues to grow with each new day. But, I hope it has given you a flavor of life in Costa Rica and how fascinating it can be to learn a new language from the people who speak it. After all, that's the idea behind why myself and the other volunteers are here: to give the students a chance to learn English from a native speaker. It is truly a year of exchange: languages, cultures, and memories that will last.

A week set apart

On this day in Rey Curre, I imagine that it is a solemn and quiet day like it is in the rest of Costa Rica where many of the businesses are closed and cars are parked due to Good Friday. But personally, I wouldn't know because I am sitting in a hammock on a hilltop overlooking the Pacific ocean. My parents and I are staying in an older resort in a sleepy coastal town. We have been traveling all this week, enjoying the rich diversity of climates, landscapes, plant life and wild life. And, through it all, we've peppered our speech with two of Costa Rica's most famous phrases, "tranquila" and "pura vida." They are both tell-tale signs of the peaceful and contented way of being that characterizes the Tican.

After my parents arrived last Saturday, I took them back to where this year began for the other volunteers and myself: Orosi, acclaimed to be the most beautiful valley in all of Costa Rica. Coffee-covered hills, mounted by two volcanoes to the Northwest, surrounds the city, and a boulder-studded river winds down out of the easterly hills. The country's oldest church sits nestled into the brightly painted homes and restaurants of the city's center. As endearing as the views of the valley can be, they can't compare with the welcoming faces that sat across from us at the home of my host family as they met my parents for the first time. Their pale green home protected by black wrought iron bars extends back deeper than most to make room for their 10 person family. The mother and father have 6 children of their own and 2 adopted daughters whose mother tragically drowned several years ago. Their hearts are as big as their home, and they sat entertaining us for hours over coffee, dinner, and American music. Funny enough, the father may not speak a lick of English, but he can sing right along with Hey Jude, Dust in the Wind, and countless others. Even though the music bridged some of the cultural gap, I was both pleased and exhausted from translating English to Spanish and vice versa.

The next morning, we got up early and were accompanied by my host uncle to the nearest volcano, Irazu. The city of Cartago sunk behind us as we wound up and up the mountain, greeted along the way on either side by rolling pastures of onions and potatoes, watching as the scarved and hooded Ticans harvested by hand. On reaching the top, we peered over the lip of the volcano only to behold the thick vapor blocking the view. Fortunately, we ambled long enough that the vapor lifted, and we were able to see all the way to the blue hot pool at the bottom of the deep ashen bowl. Rejoicing at our good fortune, we lingered for a while, and afterward, we headed back down the volcano to begin our next trek to Manuel Antonio.

After a restful night at our hotel, we boarded a tour bus to Damas Island, named for its womanly shape, for our Mangrove tour. We boarded the boat and listened intently as our tour guide, Alex, imitated the sounds of the Howler monkeys, scissor-tailed birds, and sea crabs, all the while steering our boat through the streams of muddy water woven through the White, Black, Red, and Pineapple Mangrove trees. White-faced Capuchin monkeys leapt from the pages of magazines and postcards and onto our heads as we fed them bananas from our hands. Jesus Christ lizards ran across the top of the water, paying homage to their namesake, their back legs speeding away at 80 mph. Later that day, we let the warm Pacific waters carry us into the beach on their surf. And for dinner, we tasted the traditional Casado, typically an entree of fish or beef served with rice, beans, and a salad. Then, it was time to leave Manuel Antonio behind and travel North to the famed Cloud Forests of Monteverde.

On arriving, we settled in to our cozy mountain hotel and were greeted warmly by the Tican owners, two brothers who do nothing short of making you feel part of the family while you are there. After sunset, we followed Lisette, our Tican tour guide, into the forest for our night tour. We saw a tarantula the size of a hand and a leaf cutter ant hill bigger than a king size bed. We saw a soldier ant bite a branch the length of my forearm and hold it suspended in the air for several seconds. We saw a tree that grows from the top down, wrapping around an existing tree and eventually, choking it to death, but leaving in its path a hole that becomes a 'five-star hotel' for mammals, birds, and insects alike. And in every detail, we marveled at the incomprehensible creativity of its Maker. The following day, we raced through the tree tops on the zip-lining canopy tour, and my dad checked off a bucket-list item as he jumped off the 30 foot high platform of the Tarzan swing. Afterward, we smelled the tea leaves and tasted the fresh bananas outside the souvenir shop of a friendly Tican couple.

And now, I sit restfully outside our little cabana overlooking the warm, South Pacific waters, and I finally have a moment to think. And, I feel grateful for the beautiful things I got to see. Thankful that my parents were able to come and visit. Anxious to enter back into my role as Ticher! A little sad that this vacation is coming to an end. Glad to know that I have 9 more months here to enjoy, to serve, and to exchange cultures. Contented to know that I have a host family and friends to return to in Curre and, as always, my family and my friends back home. This was truly a week set apart from the others. And, this week is also set apart for followers of the Christian faith. Together with them, I praise God for the gift we have through Jesus, that He brought Jesus back to life and offers to do the same for us, both in the here and now and in the age to come. Thank you for reading!

P.S. I began writing this on Good Friday but didn't actually post until today.