forever goodbyes

I dont know.  It's weird.  What do you say to somebody your likely never going to see again?  I mean, there are the people behind you in line at the grocery store that you might have a good short conversation with and you feel the need to say something when you leave.  I might say, "well see ya around hopefully" or "enjoy those hot pockets."  The traveling community is open for conversation or a meal together or coffee. It's not like at home where everybody has their agenda and don't really want anybody disrupting that.  People want to meet other people when you're traveling.  In Cuita last weekend I woke up and got dressed like normal and then headed out for coffee.  I was walking down the dirt road to get some coffee and maybe breakfast.  I saw a couple of girls I had talked to briefly at the point having coffee, but they looked like they were coupled up with some guys so I kept walking.  I passed another couple a few steps later.  I hadn't seen them yet, but they sure were full of smiles.  I smiled back as we passed each other.  I like friendly people.  Anyways, I rounded the corner and picked a coffee shop with a table outside and ordered a cafe negra.  The smiling couple walked in a few minutes later.  They started to sit at the table next to me, but then after a few kind words and more smiles they ended up joining me at my table.  I was glad.  I didn't really want to have coffee alone.  They were ordering breakfast so i went ahead and ordered some pinto con huevos.  Its my favorite dish here.  Its bean and rice cooked together with eggs on the side and usually a piece of toast and plantanos.  Plantanos are these banana things that they cook.  They're really good.  I even tried making them myself once.  Anyways, we had some good conversation.  They had traveled all over the world.  They even met traveling.  She was a yoga instructor and he was a minor.  They asked where I was from and I said California.  You always get a certain look from people when you tell them you are from California.  Everybody else says what country they're from, but Californians say they're from California.  Usually right after i tell them where i'm from i try to redirect the focus back to them or onto Costa Rica or work or something.  Anything but California or the states.  I always get embarrassed because the travelers know more about my state and country than I do.  Of course, this couple had lived in San Francisco for 6 months at some point in their lives.  I thought I was caught for sure.  I let them do the talking and then asked them about the heavy rain that I had heard others talk about in Cuita.  They told me how crazy it was.  I was in the clear now.  I dont think they figured out how much I dont know about my own state and country.  Anyways, it was a good conversation, but not good enough to exchange emails or anything.  We both knew that our relationship would only last as long as the meal.  But we still had to say something to seperate now from later.  I think we just said "it was nice meeting you, have a nice rest of your trip."  There was nothing too personal, but i'm still glad i got have breakfast with them.
  My host family was another tough goodbye.  I lived with them for 3 or 4 weeks.  We ate together, watched tv together, laughed together, i even went to their nephews first communion with them.  It was a long drive.  It was a long day.  I was supposed to go to the beach that weekend, but i figured, how do i pass up an invitation like this.  I was honored they invited me so i went with them and glad i did.  I got to ride in the car with them over 5 hours each way.  We stopped for breakfast at this place on the way right next to a huge river headed for the ocean.  Hugo, the father and grandfather of the house was excited to show me something while we waited for our food.  Hugo didn't speak much.  I think mostly because he didn't know a lick of english and my spanish is awful.  He got my attention anyways and we started walking down the highway across the river.  I was excited to see what he had in store for me.  I like those little things in life when you're being led somewhere and you know its going to be something cool and new, but you don't know what it is yet.  It reminds me of that feeling i used to get as a child on Christmas when i was getting ready to open a gift.  I don't get that feeling on Christmas anymore, but I still get it.  Just not on Christmas.  I imagine i might on Christmas if i ever have kids.  I think i see that feeling in my brother and sisters when they watch their kids open gifts.  Hugo led me to the other side of the river, still on the highway with cars screaming by.  He pointed and I didn't see it at first.  Then it became very clear I was looking at several alligators or crocodiles spread out on the edge of the water and mud.  Holding onto my glasses with one hand so they wouldn't fall into the river,  i leaned way over the rail to get the best look possible.  I saw one crocodile swim slowly and disappear under the water.  I could still see the current from him swimming just below the surface.  It was kind of eerie.  I imagined swimming unknowingly with that guy coming towards me under the water.  I wouldn't even see or hear him coming.  That freaks me out because I could see myself going for a swim in a river without checking for crocodiles first.  Anyways, I took a bunch of pictures with my phone and then headed back to the restaurant.  I was glad Hugo thought to show me the crocodiles.  We drove forever after breakfast.  We went along the pacific coast highway headed south.  We passed the turnoff for Jaco.  That was the beach I was supposed to visit that weekend.  I could see the water from the car.  We arrived at the church 3 or 4  hours later.  It was a small catholic church.  Some of the men in my family didn't go in.  Ramon was my closest friend.  He spoke english pretty good.  He stayed outside so I did too.  We sat outside and talked for about two hours while they were doing their thing in the church.  It was some good conversation.  We talked about our cars and how much they cost or houses in california verses houses in costa rica.  We talked about how the Americans are building these giant houses along the coast in costa rica.  He didn't seem excited about that.  He told me how it would be nice to have nice things like that.  I asked him if he'd ever come back to the states again.  He lived in Boston I guess for about 4 years.  He said he'd like to someday.  Its different for costa ricans to come to the states than it is for Americans to go to Costa Rica.  They cant just get a passport and head over.  I guess its a process, an expensive process.  Politics set aside, it doesn't seem too fair.  I'm glad i'm not a politician.  I can believe what I want and not really have to do anything about it.  I guess I agree that there ought to be some regulation on international traffic.  I'm just glad I don't have to make the rule that tells my Costa Rican friends they cant come visit.  Ramon is a good guy.  The whole family are good people.  I told them several times that if they ever come to California they'd have a place to stay.  I hope they do some day.  When it came time for me to move out, they didn't want me to go.  They told me i was their favorite person to have stayed in their home.  I guess they have a lot of students staying there from the language school.  That made me feel pretty good.  How do you say goodbye to them.  Maybe I'll see them again, but likely not.
  I guess its not the goodbye that matters.  Its not about how to extend your current experience.  Its about enjoying the people in your life for that time.  For that moment.  Whether it be breakfast or a good friend, enjoy whoever is available I guess.  I visited Ramon last week and he told me not to forget them.  "I wont" I said.  I hope I don't.

unexpected waterfall

I love waterfalls.  Water is fun and even more fun when its falling or moving fast.  As a child I played at the train tracks a lot.  Our house was only a short walk away from them.  It was a child's paradise.  It had trains that came by regularly, no parental supervision,  so many cool spikes and good trash to find and a ditch that flowed just on the other side.  The water passed under one of those concrete bridges with some kind of water level regulator or something.  The water would split just under the bridge and rapidly flow downward.  My brother David and I would throw a stick or anything that floated up stream.  Oversized beer bottles that the bums left behind were the best.  We'd watch from the concrete bridge, many times on our bellies so we could see the stick or bottle's entire journey down the rapids and small waterfall.  It fascinated us.... still does.  Not too long before I came to Costa Rica, my buddy Kaleb and I worked for about 45 minutes trying to get this giant log into the river so we could watch it go through the rapids and a small waterfall towards the bend in the river.  I say work and I mean work.  We were pushing, prying, lifting and crying.  Success! Time well spent I say.  Better than another crappy episode of Friends at least.  My sister Michal and I love to explore and a waterfall is usually the destination.  Not too long ago we hiked to this waterfall she spotted on a map by Hartland.  What a quest and well worth it too.  We came upon this waterfall that fell some 75 feet or so with a great swimming hole at its base.  We jumped off it, we slid down it on our butts and swam at its base.  I'll say it again, time well spent.  Better than a day of shopping at the outlet. That very next week I went to Yosemite with my cousin Stephen and saw some of the most beautiful waterfalls in the world.  These waterfalls dropped from what seemed to be thousands of feet; maybe millions!  They would leave a tightness in my chest; a thirst like feeling that cant quite be quenched.  I wanted to memorize every square inch so that I could revisit it in my thoughts.

That feeling I had with David at the ditch on our bellies, with Kaleb as we chased a log down the river, with my Michal as we indulged in Gods creation, and with Stephen as we gazed at those magnificent towers of water was not a fulfillment of my preconceived expectation.  I was experiencing the unexpected.

Before I came to Costa Rica I was told of its beauty.  It is a paradise with waterfalls and beautiful jungles I heard.  I have seen jungles and waterfalls before and yes, they are beautiful.  Websites described an endless adventure of whitewater rafting, zip line tours through the jungle and beautiful waterfalls.  There is so much adventure; so much excitement.  This past weekend I went with some friends on a zip line tour through the jungle.  I zipped through, turning upside down and doing what the guides suggested.  I found myself pursuing the fulfillment of my expectations rather than experiencing the unexpected.  I found myself trying to live out what the websites described.  I was trying to live another persons adventure rather than experience my own.  What the heck! Thats not my style.  I want my own adventure.  I realized this on the drive home.

We drove 3 or 4 hours I guess; I'm not really sure how long it was.  It was a rainy day as we winded through the jungle.  I had my window half way down most the trip.  The water splashing on me didn't bother me that much like it does on a rainy day back home.  My focus was stuck on the jungle.  I stared with my whole being as we drove on.  The jungle has so much to look at.  Some of the leaves are as big as the hood of my truck.  Vines are hanging down from trees that tower over us.  There are waterfalls everywhere.  The waterfalls steal the attention from everything else.  Some are heavier than others, making a louder appearance.  But my favorite waterfall was a little one.  It was a thin white line cutting through the jungle.  I could only see little tidbits of it before it leaped from the cliff side.  The water splashed onto a branch, just over head.  It drizzled down and dripped from every leaf on the branch.  It was a wild waterfall, untamed and beautiful.  It grabbed my attention like a pretty girl, turning my head in awe as we drove on.  This waterfall was new and fresh, now but a moment in time.  It was a moment of experiencing the unexpected.  I noticed I felt different.  This brief experience was pure, unadultured by the pursuit of fulfilling an expectation.  I saw the moment for what it was.

I think this is how God designed us to live every moment.  This moment was not the pursuit of any expectation, but the acknowledgement of what really was. yada yada, I don't really feel like writing anymore.....

The boys

A little boy named Maikel cracks me up at the site!  I love that kid.  Today we were doing a project like we usually do in both the morning and afternoon sessions.  We made snowflakes with the kids.  Mine looked nothing like a snowflake, but the little girl I was working with liked it enough to try and recreate it.  Ohh yeah, snowflake master!  Anyways Maikel came strolling in.  He´s the kind of boy you cant help but like.  His smile is contagious.  Mikael is about 5 years old and always has a new tattoo somewhere on his body; Temporary tattoo that is.  He had on shorts and a ¨wife beater.¨  I guess these types of undershirts got their name from the popular tv show cops.  Anyways he walked up and all the other boys swarmed him.  He is kinda popular, but this attention was a little excessive compared to the norm.  I perked up and ran over about as quick as the other boys.  Some things dont change with age.  Maikel had a dead bird in his hand.  He was so proud of this poor little bird.  He isn´t holding the bird cautiously like American children do.  His little fingers are grasping it fearlessly.  He lifted up the wing and held the bird close to his face so he could get a better look like a mechanic might inspect the carberator, pulling the throttle back and forth.  I overheard them say they thought it was alive still.  I told him it was surely dead.  Maikel grinned and put the bird up to Cailas cheek to show her his achievement or maybe to show his mischievement.  Caila screamed and told him to get rid of the bird so he through it over the fence.  When he came back we played.  Usually I´ll rough the boys up a bit and tickle them like I do with my nephews back home.  They love it.  I noticed a shadow like blur under his thin tank top.  I gestured to him to show me his belly.  He proudly lifted up his shirt to expose 3 dragon tattoo´s covering his torso.  Maikel is awesome!  I cant wait to see what he comes up with next.  Here Mikael have some hand sanitizer.
  It seems everyday I get to connect with one of the children.  There are some regulars that are really starting to grow on me.  I´m going to miss them when I leave.  I was talking to Caila while we were eating our lunch, as we usually do.  I said it would be cool to see the children in 20 years when they´re grown.  I was picturing Luis as I was saying it.  He´s another young boy, maybe 6 or 7.  Luis was fighting with Alex, who is also one of my favorites, my first or second day on the site.  Luis is a smart kid.  You can tell the smart one´s pretty quick.  He puts this snake puzzle together in no time and reads really well.  I dont know what level these books are, but they all seem easy to him.  The other day he read 3 or 4 books to me back to back.  He did this while all the other boys are playing around us.  He´s got initiative.  I turned my attention to the child on my other side for a moment and he nudged me and leaned in his shoulder close to me to remind me he was reading.  His attention span is obviously longer than mine.  I hope he does well.

Costa Rica is becoming normal for me.  Not in a bad way though, where it has lost its adventure.  I am not as distracted with the surface anymore.  It´s normal in a way that allows me to see San Jose and the small communities I´ve been working in for who they are.  People are people and children are children.  Earlier this week Caila picked me up to go to the site.  Some days she has the car and some days Krysta has it.  Caila had it this day.  The drive was getting more familliar.  I am begining to know where we need to turn, know which roads have bigger pot holes and can tell when the rivers that we drive over are full or not that day or that hour.  I played with the older boys at the site most the day.  The boys are fun.  We played marbles and armwrestled at the end of the day.  They beat me most the time at marbles, but I won a few matches.  Playing with them took me back to gradeschool when I went through the marble phase.  The competitiveness; the arguing; the skill.  Marbles are a good game.  I saw the boys sort through their collection and choose their favorite one to play with.  They usually let me barrow the cat eyed marbles.  The cat eyed marbles were plentiful as they were when I was a boy.  We´d play in the dirt and rocks next to the covered area of the site.  They had aquired crafty techniques.  They shot the marbles with strategy and precision.  My skills were not so refined anymore.  As we were playing I noticed a boy, who I had orginally thought to be the tough boy of the bunch, soften up a bit.  I saw another side of him.  He was kind in sport and seemed to be a good friend.  A boy who I had originally thought to be too cool to be penetrated now smiled, laughed and even let me barrow a marble to play with him.  Is that fruit or knowledge?  The boys are likely teaching me more than I am teaching them.
Caila had to stay after to do some stuff with some other women in the community.  I could´ve waited, but decided to take the bus home.  The way the buses work are they all go into downtown San Jose and drop you off.  You then have to catch another bus from San Jose to your community.  So I took the bus into San Jose.  I was thinking about grabbing a coffee there, but decided to head back to Desamparados to check out this cafe´ I´ve had my eye on.  The buses pick you up all over the central park area.  You have to just kind of know where to go to catch the right bus.  I had gotten lucky in finding this bus stop a few days prior.  There was a growing line of about 20 or 30 people waiting along the curb, facing the street.  While I was waiting there I saw a man across the street drop a bowl and a piece of bread out of his bag.  The man looked poor, maybe homeless.  From the stagger in his walk I noticed he may have been injured or drinking.  As he walked away I wanted to let him know.  I felt an urge to shout out to him or even run across the street and give him his bowl and bread.  But I didn´t.  I sat quietly with the rest of the line facing him.  I wondered why I didn´t speak up.  In reflecting on the situation now, maybe I was afraid of looking different.  Maybe it was because I was standing next to a pretty girl in line and didn´t want to jepordize my position there.  It was likely both;  Fear and selfishness.  I wonder why nobody else helped this man.  It could have been for the same reasons I didn´t help him or becuase the city moves too fast to notice or care about the needs of another.  Regardless of their reasons, I didn´t help the man.  I didn´t care enough.  I passed up a good blessing.  While I´m watching the man walk away another man stepped out of line and was talking loudly to everyone waiting for the bus.  He was walking back forth in front of us.  I asked the pretty girl next to me, in embarassing spanish, what he was saying.  I couldn´t really understand her, but I think she said he was preaching and then she smiled and giggled a bit.  I wonder if the preacher thought to help the man who lost his dinner.  A few moments later somebody kicked the bowl into the street and it was ran over by a bus.  Thats that I guess.  The bread was still sitting there though.  People passed it by paying no attention to it.  The freshly cooked, golden bread looked clean and refreshing sitting against the broken and moss covered sidewalk.  Another man was approaching.  This man looked much like the broken moss covered sidewalk and gutter.  He blended perfectly into the streets of San Jose.  He was definitely homeless.  I was curious if he would see the bread and if he did, what would he do?  Before I could finish the thought he had already picked up the bread and with out hesitating to even brush the streets off, he took a bite.  Funny how God works.  I´m almost glad the man dropped his bread.  I still feel convicted.  There´s no salvaging the bowl.  The bus arrived shortly after that and I headed to Desamparados.  As we approached where I needed to get off I pulled the rope so the bus driver knew to stop and made my way to the exit. 
I walked to that little cafe´ I´ve been wanting to go to.  It was called Paneteria & Cafeteria, I think this means bakery & food place.  Cute name.   I ordered a cafe con leche and this little fruit and bread pie thing.  I didn´t know what it was called so I just pointed to it.  The lady told me how to say it several times and apparently I said it right one of those times, cause she stopped trying to teach me.  I still dont know what it is called.  I think she was the owner.  As I tried to pay, she instructed me to have a seat so she could serve me.  I made my way to the corner so I could see the cafe´ in its entirety.  She brought the coffee and snack over, each on its own dish.  It was amazing.  The coffee was a perfect blend and the pie thing was delicious.  In a part of town that isn´t quiet nor beautiful in a naturalistic kind of way, they have succeeded in offering a pleasant corner of the town to hide in.  I sat there sipping my coffee and journaling a bit.  I wondered what the man who dropped his bowl and bread was doing?

Costa Rica thus far

Costa Rica, a new life.  Since my arrival on the 3rd of November, I feel like I am begining to gain some balance.  At first I was very disoriented from the visual inconsistencies of a Central American city.  I craved familiarity for a few days.  The language, sights, and people were all fascinating, but unfamiliar. Not knowing the language has been challenging.  I want to communicate verbally with mi host familia or the children at the sites, but am forced to find other avenues of communication.  I think this is good though.  I rely so much on words to communicate and not having that option has forced me to express myself in other ways.  The kids and I seem to get along just fine though. 
When I talk, they stare at me kind of wide eyed and waiting.  They probably look like I do when I´m trying to figure out what they´re saying, but with a little more patience.  It´s not a ¨your weird, leave me alone¨ kind of stare though.  It´s more like a, ¨will you still play with me?¨ kind of stare.  I love playing with them.  Its fun.
We played this game a few times called picturesk or something like that.  I´ve played it before in the states.  These kids dominated me.  I didn´t have a chance.  The goal is to find the picture on the card on the playing board before anyone else.  I think they have the items memorized, which is pretty impresive in and of itself.  I told lets armwrestle just so I can maintain my leadership role.

The SI staff has been awesome as well.  I feel very welcome in their lives.  My life since my arrival in CR has been more social than it is on a good weekend back home.  Funny how that works.  We went down town San Jose one night this weekend.  Dustin or Krysta had found this french movie playing at an art studio there.  The movie was originally french and had spanish subtitles.  I dont think I could write a critique on the movie, but it was a good experience all the same.  We then walked to this restaurant called...ahh I cant remember.  On the way there we walked through a park thick with plantlife and trees with different colored lights in them.  It felt like we were walking through a jungle with a colored sun setting behind each of the tree tops. I hope I get to visit the park again at night before I leave.  The restaraunt we ate at was similar to the ¨jungle park¨ in that it had a very lush atmosphere.  As you walked through the gate, thick bamboo enclosed the area, protecting the restaraunt from the noisy streets of San Jose.  There was a coi ponde that seemed to be under the floor.  The rock edges hung over the water like ice might hang over the edge of a creek.  It had rebar and wire bent inconsistantly so that you wouldn´t accidently step in it.  It looked kool.  We then sat and ate; talked and laughed.  It was good getting to know Krysta, Dustin, and Leah better.