Day 1: I speak Spanish!

Day 2: [Panic] I actually don’t speak any Spanish at all!

Day 3: Hey…I can do this. I do speak Spanish.

Day 4: Upon further consideration, I realized I don’t actually speak Spanish.

Day 5: Okay, let’s be real here. I speak some Spanish.

Let the linguists among you argue about definitions, but I’m deciding that there definitely is more than one “Spanish.” Classroom Spanish vs. Argentine Spanish vs. Costa Rican Spanish = very distinct, and in much more than just accents. The ability to be understood and the ability to understand are also very different. While I’m comfortable speaking Spanish, whether or not I can understand the response varies greatly based on the situation in which I find myself.

(This paragraph is mostly for Spanish speakers) In Costa Rica, they don’t use the familiar form of the second person “you” (tu) but almost exclusively the formal one (Usted). Unfortunately for me, this draws on conjugations I’m not used to and ends up confusing me a lot because I can’t tell if someone is talking about me or about another person, especially when they drop the subject. It’s also strange because even elders refer to children in the more formal tense. Just something to get used to, I guess. They also use diminutives whenever possible. Lots if –ita’s and –ito’s. Everything’s a little smaller, gentler.

It seems like every time I meet someone new, I have to relearn how to listen to Spanish. Whether with my host family, with teachers, with kids, or with anyone else. My host mom is patient enough with me to talk slowly, but I can’t understand her husband at all. She even notices sometimes and repeats what he said, but more clearly. When the teachers at school get going, I don’t get anything either. I got used to being constantly confused while I was in Argentina, but it’s still not my favorite feeling in the world.

Even though Spanish experience isn’t required by Projects Abroad, I don’t know how a volunteer without Spanish background could function in this kind of environment. When there’s a billion children screaming and then twenty others talking in Spanish at the same time, each vying for attention, the language part of my brain tends to get overloaded almost instantly. It’s easier with the older kids. Even though they don’t quite understand why you don’t understand them, they will repeat themselves, speak slower, explain things you don’t understand and generally be stronger communicators. Not so much with the younger ones.

I still have a ton to learn, but I think there are a lot of people who are willing to be patient with me. I don’t get as much time to practice as I’d like especially because a lot of the people I interact with are European volunteers who are far more comfortable with Spanish than English. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get more involved and will be able to spend more time with locals, not just fellow English speakers.

The purpose of my time in Costa Rica is really about service. The project I’ve chosen is teaching English and Projects Abroad, my program provider, works out my placement. The school where I’m working is in Bagaces, about 40 minutes, by public bus, outside of Liberia. It’s one of two schools in the city, but is the oldest in the region. It’s a primary school, so they teach grades 1-6.

I’m working alongside a teaching named Clara (or “Clarita” as the other teachers call her. She’s very helpful and patient with me. Which is good considering that I keep getting completely confused. She teaches English at the school to children of all grades. Her 10-year-old daughter and 7-year-old son go to school in Liberia, where she lives. We travel in the mornings, at 6:25 to the school in the other community and begin classes. We have classes with the older children in the mornings (grades 5-6) and classes with the younger children in the afternoons (grades 1-2).

I’ve only been there for two partial days so far and so I haven’t figured out the schedules quite yet. Each class lasts 40 minutes, much of which is devoted to chaos (at least in my initial impression). I haven’t figured out the definition of “acceptable” behavior yet. The school yard, to me, appears absolutely insane, but the teachers just watch with smiles. Many of the children are, by my American standards, very violent and undisciplined, but by Costa Rican standards are just “playing.” It’s very strange for me not to be able to step in when something appears wrong because I haven’t yet learned what’s okay and what’s not, at least in the cultural sense.

The school, as a whole, is incredibly loud. In the classroom and out, all the children are constantly yelling and screaming as they play or disrupt class. I’m still not sure how any actual teaching goes on with all of the chaos. I anticipate that I’ll see some order in the classes in the next week, but for now, I’m still confused.

Yesterday, we worked only with the younger children. They’re really loving and were really excited to have me in class. Some were eager to show off their English skills while others just crowded around asking me questions. Clara taught the same lesson to three classes in a row and let me participate more and more in each one. I picked up on a bit of classroom routine and got to lead some of the vocabulary portion by the end of the classes. Mostly with the youngest kids, it was more like babysitting than teaching. Lots of classroom management that had nothing to do with English at all. Fortunately, a disapproving look at a child speaks volumes, especially compared to my Spanish.

The older children, who I just met today, had an exam, so I didn’t get to interact with them too much. The all noticed the strange white visitor at the back of the class almost immediately and so Clara had me introduce myself so they’d stop being so distracted. After the first class, she let me help out with questions during the test when the students needed help. It was neat to get to talk more with them, but I still didn’t know exactly how much I could help them or what I was allowed to say.

I had a late breakfast in the teachers’ “lounge” (more like a large closet) this morning. The teachers were all incredibly nice to me, but I honestly couldn’t understand anything they were talking about. While a lot of it is just a language issue, they’re also discussing topics I’m totally unfamiliar with and don’t have any place to start. I basically just sat there awkwardly as they gave me food I didn’t recognize. I tried to subtly watch each of them and not act quite as clueless as I felt. I’m also 10-30 years younger than any of them (jovencita) and feel rather out of place.

While I’m still immensely confused, I’ve tried to adopt the attitude of “jump in now, apologize later.” To wait until I’m perfectly comfortable with all of the classroom etiquette will take until after I leave and there’s no point in just watching for the next two months. I’m sure I’ll make a mess of some things along the way, but hopefully I’ll do some good too. I’m less worried about my relationships with the rest of the teachers (except for Clara) and more concerned with how I do with the kids. They all are really excited about me being there, but I hope that I can be useful to them over the next two months as well.

The first word that comes to mind to describe Liberia: Hot.

After “hot” come words like “small,” “familiar,” and “unlabeled.”

The thing I’m feeling the most is definitely the heat. This week is over 90 degrees each day and it’s something I’m definitely not used to. The humidity, combined with the inability to escape into anywhere air conditioned make for a sweaty, exhausting introduction to the country. I’m sure I’ll get more accustomed to it eventually, but for now, I’m simply hot. I managed to take a shower today with zero intentional heat (a “cold” shower) and still come out a little overheated. They don’t have a second faucet on anything here. It’s just the one that spits out water of whatever temperature it has access to. Usually, it’s lukewarm, but this morning I almost burned myself.

Liberia is a small town in the northwest part of Costa Rica with a population of only about 45,000 ticos (what Costa Ricans call themselves). It’s laid out in a neat grid with a single main street. None of the streets have real names and none of the buildings have numbers. This means that every location is described relative to somewhere else. For instance, I live 50 meters east of the Hotel Riviera. The Projects Abroad office is 100 meters north and 50 meters west of the central plaza. And on and on. For us extranjeros (foreigners) who are new to the area, it makes finding things a bit…interesting.

My first business day here started with a walking tour of the city. It’s only about a five-minute walk from my house to the center of the city and I think anything in the area is only about 20 minutes away, tops. We saw things like the bank, bus stations, supermarkets, important cafés and lots of other landmarks. It shouldn’t take too long to get down the basics.

Like any good Catholic Latin American city, the city center is the church. I learned that all Catholic churches in Costa Rica face west (which helps with my sense of direction), but I have no clue why. If anyone knows, feel free to enlighten me. The central plaza seems to be a common place to hang out for teens and young adults. Based on my conversations with other volunteers, there’s not a whole lot else to do here. One of the hotels has a swimming pool where volunteers go during the day and there’s a movie theater too, but there’s only so many good movies.

The opposite of my experience in Buenos Aires, Liberia goes to sleep early. Whereas Bs.As. is just getting started at 11 pm, the streets of Liberia are almost empty by about 8pm. Part of this might have to do with the sun. Costa Rica doesn’t observe daylight savings and is, in my opinion, in the “wrong” time zone. The sun is up by 5:30am and sets before 6 pm.  Costa Rica appears much more the “early to bed, early to rise” type of culture. But don’t expect to get errands done during the lunch hour. The city shuts down as everyone disappears to cook at home or eat lunch at a local soda (a small food vendor that sells cheaper local food).

What’s nice about a town this small is the familiarity of people with one another. If you’re trying to find someone’s shop, you can refer to them by name and lots of people in the area know who they are. Everybody seems to know everybody and it’s nice to have everything so close by. My only fear is going crazy if the town gets too small. I s’pose that’s why all the volunteers travel each weekend.

I’m finally in Liberia!! All of my travels went totally without issues. Planes to San José without any problems. Picked up by the Projects Abroad staff and taken to a surprisingly nice hotel (compared to what I was expecting anyway). Five-hour bus ride to Liberia with another new volunteer. Met at the bus station by another Projects Abroad staff member and dropped off at my homestay. All-in-all, a successful trip.

Even though I’ve only been living here for about 36 hours, I’m already realizing how completely blessed I am by my homestay placement.  One of the biggest requirements I had when choosing a service provider was the availability of a homestay, living with a local family, learning the customs, language, culture, and foods of a region. This was the biggest way for me to learn while I was in Argentina and so I wanted to make sure I could do the same thing while abroad this time.

My host mom’s name is Yelba Pomares. She’s a really wonderful woman, although we haven’t started talking too much yet.  After teaching at a primary school (the same one where I’m supposed to be working) for fifteen years, she quit her job there to open a Christian bookstore. It’s a lovely little place [Wow- I can hear the influence of my English housemate in that phrase] with Bibles, books, and all sorts of other accessories and fun things. We’ve gotten to talk about our faith a bit and she’s invited me to church and her small group on Thursday. I’m really looking forward to learning more about her and the things that she’s involved in.

Although my primary interaction is with Yelba, she’s not the only one in the house. She’s married to, David [dah-veed], a teacher at a local school. Our time in the house hasn’t overlapped too much yet, so we haven’t seen much of each other or gotten to talk much at all. They also have three sons (I think one of them might only be David’s, but I don’t know yet): Luis David (29), Esteban (26), and Issac (22).  All three are studying in San José now, but Esteban was home this weekend when I arrived. Within thirty minutes of walking in the door, Esteban asked if I wanted to go out already. He and a cousin (one of about a million, apparently) were going to a friend’s house to swim.  I frantically dug through my yet-to-be-unpacked suitcase looking for my suimsuit and hurriedly got ready to go. Turned out “go swimming” was code for “swim, eat, watch futbol, talk about the news, watch a movie, and six hours later, go home.” After a day and a half of traveling and an afternoon in the sun, I was completely exhausted and was quite happy to get a good sleep in before this morning.

I’m really happy here so far, though my impressions are limited. Besides the sweltering heat (it’s over 90 degrees without any air conditioning) which I haven’t gotten used to yet, it appears to be a beautiful place. My home has 4 bedrooms (some of which have other volunteers living in them) and more than enough space for all of us. Yelba enjoys cooking and makes lots of good food for us three times a day. I think I’m going to get along quite well with all of them. A humongous added bonus is that we have internet in the house! Definitely wasn’t expecting that, but I’m really happy that turned out the way it did. It’s kind of ironic though: only one faucet on any water source, adobe and plaster walls, no air conditioning, no dryer, but- hey!- we have Wi-Fi. I have my own room with a bed, night table, and shelves. Nothing extravagant, but totally sufficient.

I’m looking forward to the next two months that I will be living here, though I’m certain it will fly by. Hopefully, Yelba and I will have a good number of intriguing conversations over the coming weeks and will get to know each other better. Maybe silent David and I can even have a conversation or two. We’ll see!