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.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
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?
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?
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
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.
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.
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