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.