Pura Vida

Another quiet night here in EL INVU (those flower pictures are just outside my room). The days are really full here, there’s always so much to get done and there aren’t the normal kinds of distractions going on, it gives one pause to ponder how we normally have time for those distractions to begin with. From auditing the TESOL course to trying to apply these concepts to my own two classes (and then reflect on them), to trying to learn Spanish to enjoying the meditation, it’s a full day’s work. And not included in that is all the mandatory time you have to spend chatting, making small talk, visiting friends’ porches, and other vital activities. My supervisor here made the comment that while the Japanese use silence for greater intimacy, Costa Ricans fill up that space with talk that really means something else. Here's some great goat pictures below... the first one is at the town's soccer field, the second at a student's house...

The classes are going well. It is still quite challenging to have such very non-academic students and at such a beginning level as well. It makes me feel like I have so much to learn and not a lot of time to do it! I always want to rush through material more quickly in order to feel successful as a good teacher and also come up with really creative and dynamic (and alas, complicated) lessons. I keep having to step back and examine what it means for them to actually “know” a word or phrase, and KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid). The bugs and weather seem to be an issue no matter what around here, in whatever context. Come to think of it I did a lesson on weather terms, I should try another on bugs! One class a bat flew in and took quite some time finding its way back out. Another time a fly the size of a fist came in and it buzzed around like mad until one student caught it. He held onto it gently in his hand for some time, then placed it below his shoulder, on his chest. It stayed there motionless until the class ended. It was like his pet giant fly. I swear, this town really can feel like a town out of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel, though I’m not sure how to explain it all the time! Yesterday I was teaching the phrase “it’s muggy” just as it was so muggy that you could barely think, then they had a hard time understanding “it’s raining cats and dogs.” As if on cue, the rain outside started up so hard, as it’s ever so apt to do around here, banging away on that tin roof with such vengeance that you have to yell to get heard. Oh, here's the picture of the road leading up to "El Centro Espiral Mana":


Ah, the rain, yes. It’s pretty much daily, and it can just feel like the faucet is turned on non-stop with a kind of force that is hard to describe. That’s what I thought, at least, until last night. It had been a persistently deafening sound, and over a sustained period of time, when I realized this was something a little special, and woke up. The clock read 3.00 a.m. and I slid out of my mosquito net. The sky was flashing outside like a strobe light but the sheer racket outdid any major sound system! I took my flashlight to see if we were soon going to be flooded and as I rounded the corner, my neighbor, John, also a participant on this course, was also just coming out. All I remember him saying is “How am I ever going to be able to describe this to anyone I know?” We just kind of stood there for a minute in our underclothes and then went back to our rooms. All that could come to mind for me was New Orleans, I just had nothing else to really compare it to—somewhat the monsoon season of Japan, somewhat a couple weeks I’d spent in Florida—but not of this intensity! Here are some pictures of "El Centro Espiral Mana": Some good news that came my way with a haircut though. I’d been trying to get one for sometime. I figure I can make up some of the airfare costs by timing my periods overseas with cheap haircuts. So I got one upon arrival in Bombay, one just before leaving, and hadn’t had one since. Mary told me that a woman in town cuts hair, and lives just next to Milagro, one of my students, whose family I hang out with often. So I went to her house and was shown to an adjoining tiled room, where I got a very short haircut (and which cost less than $2). Everyone around here was utterly shocked and said they kind of didn’t know who I was now! They had gotten used to the locks. Anyway, her husband Francisco happened to be watching the Mexico-Argentina game on very poor reception, with commentary from the local radio. I made no attempt to hide my profound interest and was duly invited in to join in. She then said in parting that I’d be welcome to come over anytime future World Cup games were on. (here are some cows below that I spotted on a walk...)

I was a little shy on how to act on that the following morning, but the England-Ecuador elimination game gave me some confidence. They seemed pleased enough to see me and I bought a few sodas for us all at the local (and only) convenience shack around (see photo), owned by Poi, Mary’s husband’s brother (and my new language exchange partner). After the game, they somehow made me to understand that they would not be home for the later Holland-Portugal game, but invited me to come with them. Not knowing exactly where I’d end up, I hopped in the van and we drove across town (which means across the soccer field) and got out to spend about 20 minutes in the intense humidity visiting their aunts, uncles, great uncles, cousins, parents, etc. Then a horde more of us jumped in the van again and drove to a neighboring town of San Isidro to go into a humongous tin shack where just about everyone I have ever met was gathered there to play BING for a school charity event (it reminded me of Simpsons episodes where just about every character you’ve ever met in the series ends up being at some scene!) I kind of shrugged my shoulders and resigned myself to endure how many hours of Bingo until Francisco rescued me by giving me a puzzled look, so I got back in the car, after which he duly drove to the nearest restaurant where we watched the game in full (except we left inexplicably at halftime and went to a market, where Francisco tried to ask me questions that I couldn’t figure out, eventually it was all settled when I suggested going to a nearby restaurant for the second half).

We went back to the Bingo and waited around another hour (they marked their boards with corn pieces). A storm hit and the rain again made such a racket no one could hear anyone and we got soaked to the bone. Then I met Donald again, a serious England supporter who, with his limited English, tries to prove almost mathematically that England is destined to win it all this year. Oh yeah, and he’s a math teacher at the local high school. Somehow the whole thing was happening at Donald’s girlfriend’s house complex, so we went into their kitchen and had some coffee and got again thoroughly wet some more before departing. Here's a church and some cows around here we were... (in the picture above of the two men talking, Francisco is on the right and Donald on the left)

So now I’ve had to add to my daily retinue watching a couple World Cup games per day at Francisco’s house. I haven’t figured out what his work is, but his wife cooks food at the local school (and of course gives haircuts). It’s actually been a pretty fascinating comparison to what happened at the last World Cup for me. It was kind of a watershed time for me. I had been looking forward to it being in Tokyo for years beforehand, but just as it came, I was getting quite involved with Vipassana. I have some very powerful memories from that time, like going to the usual venues with friends, and the energy being some of the most exciting and exhilarating ever. And just learning experientially what this “anicha” was really about, and what I wanted to seek after and what I wanted to let go of, I found it incredibly unsatisfying and empty—much to my shock, I think. I remember once riding my bike by myself to the center of Tokyo one very late weekend night, and finding my way into this huge crowd of futbal aficionados from all different countries, chanting soccer songs and throwing balls into the crowd—it was one of the more amazing spectacles you could hope to find, but it really did nothing for me—I’d never had that kind of reaction before, and what’s more, it almost made me disgusted. So it seems like a funny kind of irony to now, four years later finding myself in a small town, away from any kind of commotion or excitement, and here I’m experiencing this huge craving to watch these games at all cost… well, I guess it is all anicha, eh!

Well, better bring this to an end because the bug bites keep coming the longer I stay here! I went to this one hot springs last weekend that was superb. It had dozens of pools and I’d say it's definitely on a level with Japan! Some pools were actually too hot to get in, even though I like to think of myself as a little seasoned in that area! Another pool I stood under this powerful and hot waterfall that emptied from above, and notice a cord in the air by me. Ah, I thought, must be something to hold onto if the falling water is too strong. Nope, just a live electric wire I found out, getting shocked in the process! The complex even had two entire bars in different pools—not the most ideal for me, but pretty interesting to see. Here is a picture of some of my friends and students...

Oh, and I guess I have to throw in another bug picture, eh....