Nada más

On this day in Rey Curré, I reflected on a grand weekend and prepared my classroom for the start of the school year. This past weekend, I witnessed the most famous festival of the indigenous people in Costa Rica, La Fiesta de los Diablitos. Diablitos literally means "little devils," and they represent the indigenous people who withstood the conquest of the Spaniards and maintained their land and their culture. It was a four day fiesta, beginning at midnight on Thursday up until very late Sunday evening. Each day, the diablitos (the men wearing the masks) would march around the town three times, stopping at various locations to "fight" the toro, or the bull. The bull represents the Spanish conquistadors who tried without avail to drive out the indigenous people in Boruca and Rey Curré. Sunday was the most interesting day to witness because the diablitos defeated the bull once and for all, and then they burned the bull to the ground. Or, at least they tried to, but the rain that fell heavily upon the last battle inundated the costume, making it difficult to burn. Nevertheless, I was glad for the rain that brought the overcast skies and cool winds, the drops of rain that magnified the colors of the masks, and the muddied ground that made the skirmish that much more interesting to watch. And, of course, each day ended with a dance at the local salon (or meeting place), in which there were no less than 24 amplifiers. Needless to say, when the dance ends around 2:30 in the morning, only then can the town sleep and not a moment earlier. All in all, it was amazing, nada más.

Here I sit in a hammock on the front porch, swatting mosquitoes and listening to the sounds of dogs howling in the distance, Latin music playing on someone's cell phone nearby, and the familiar sound of cars driving by on the InterAmerican Highway. This is the life, nada más. Sure, I've had three cups of coffee already today, but I know that my high spirits cannot be blamed entirely on the caffeine but also on the excitement and adventure that is unfolding before me. Speaking a new language, taking in breathtaking views, getting to know an indigenous people, learning Latin dances, and preparing to teach English to 60 students in grades 1st through 6th are all in a day's work. Mind you, it's not as busy as it sounds. For example, this afternoon I took a walk up to one of my colleagues homes, Norma, and she took me for a detour around the outskirts of town. We ended up at the house of Selerina, an older woman who teaches the indigenous Borucan language. There we sat in tranquility for an hour or so, drinking coffee and chatting about my great luck in having a site placement like Rey Curré. Where else could I have the benefit of living in an indigenous culture while at the same time having access to the main highway running straight through Costa Rica? What's more, I have my own classroom with a whiteboard, desks, chairs, and a fairly large library in comparison to other sites. I am so grateful. My only lack here are the smiles and voices of my circle back home, but I remember you all often and hope good things for you.

Remember those vacations where everyone starts using the same phrase over and over and over. By the end of the weekend, I think my friends from WorldTeach who came to the fiestas had had just about enough of the phrase "nada más." Furthermore, I don't even know if I'm using it in the right contexts, but for me it represents the peaceful quality of life here in Costa Rica. Literally, it means, "nothing more" or "that's all." For example, I'm hungry, but I only want rice and nothing more. Or, the only people here are myself and my siblings, that's all. To me, it is to say that I've got all I need and what I don't have, I can do without, nada más.