Why Santa is Wrong.

It's funny that as you get older, you find yourself thinking about things you really never gave a second thought to when you were younger.

Take Santa for instance.

No, it's too late for me, I know that he does not come down the chimney, and he is not getting any more of my cookies and milk. If he did exist, I'd probably be on the naughty list after this! My problem with Santa is not due to the generous mythology that has developed around him. My problem with Santa is that he is a bad symbol to celebrate the birth of Christ.

Let me show what I mean, here's the lyrics to the popular Christmas song, Santa Claus Is Coming To Town*:

"You better watch out
You better not cry
Better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town

He's making a list,
And checking it twice;
Gonna find out Who's naughty and nice.
Santa Claus is coming to town

He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake!"
(J. Fred Coots, Henry Gillespie (c) 1934)

If we believed this song, Santa Claus is a combination of the Pope and Homeland Security. He judges our sins and weaknesses with omniscience and infallibility. His agents are lurking behind every tree and corner. There are elves stationed on every rooftop and hill, aiming parabolic listening devices and night vision goggles at our houses and apartments, spying on each child day and night. Out in the community, in coffee shops, bars, beauty shops and other "adult places", out of sight of kid's eyes, are posters telling adults how to report bad behavior to Santa. It's no wonder kids get extra squirrelly this time of year, Christmas must feel like some childhood version of George Orwell's 1984.



This invention of Santa Claus as a symbol of judgment and unflinching righteousness does not seem to be based on any common stories of Saint Nicholas as a person, yet in many of the celebrations around the world, he continues to reward the good children and punish the bad children.Click here to read about the historical Saint Nicholas). I guess that society unconsciously looks for ways to control behavior any way it can.

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast."~Ephesians 2:10

That's what I don't like about Santa. The stories we tell kids about Santa reinforce the wrong ideas about Christmas. He only brings toys to the good boys and girls, and coal to the naughty ones. But when God brought us the gift of Jesus Christ, he brought that gift freely to a world of bad children, stained by all manner of sin and naughtiness.

We did not deserve this gift. Christmas is not about being good enough to deserve God's free gift. Its about God giving us what we don't deserve, and us having the faith to accept it freely.

Merry Christmas.

-John

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

I'm sitting on the couch enjoying one of my favorite holiday specials, that Rankin-Bass classic, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer". I'm wondering what I would look like in a bowler hat, I mean I've already got the plaid Christmas vest. Maybe I could dye my goatee white every year. I love Christmas so much, it could be a two month holiday as far as I am concerned.

Back to the movie, ever since this has come out in the 70's or 60's,(I'm not sure when, I can't decipher that "MCMLXV" stuff on the credits), most people near a TV have watched the show over and over. I love everything in it, from the little poodle pulling Yukon Cornelius' sled, to the "Charlie in the Box" on the Island of Misfit Toys. I also find myself repeating Rudolph's catch phrase, "I'm coot! I'm coot!", you know, 'cause I am.

The music is so memorable. I find myself singing "Why am I such misfit? I am not just a nitwit!", or "Have a holly, jolly Christmas! Its the best time of the year!". The funny thing is, this year I realized this show was actually really subversive for its time. I'm not kidding. This year I realized that Rudolph could have been written by some Liberal-Arts Sociology Professor. Let me explain...


Rudolph and Hermes don't fit in. They are misfits. I love the part in the first part of the show when the elf-boss mocks Hermes for wanting to be a dentist. "Who ever heard of an elf that didn't like to make toys?". It's like he is saying "There is only one kind of elf-you are wrong for wanting to be different", it's classic social-conflict theory. Both Hermes and Rudolph are alienated from the group because they don't submit to its wishes, or they don't appear like everyone else. They in turn, leave the group and make their way on their own and in the end overcome the group stigma and become valuable on their own terms. This is classic sociology theory, when people are unable to submit to the mores of societies, they have to find alternate methods to gain status and resources.

The island of misfit toys is kind of the climax to this thought. Santa finally determines that misfits can be main-streamed throughout society and will be great toys because of their "different-ness".

To take this even farther, Santa doesn't want to be fat, but he is pushed into overeating by other people's images of what he is supposed to be. "Eat, Papa eat! Whoever heard of a skinny Santa?", his wife tells him. He's got food issues I tell you! He could be like a bulimic trying to get in a size 0, except exactly the opposite.

You can even see feminist thought in how Rudolph's girlfriend and his mom strike out on their own to join the search party, even though it was dangerous for women.

With all this in mind, I have formed the skeleton of a thesis and I will start continuing research on a paper I have decided to call "Themes of Alienation as Seen in Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer". I have checked out the academic search engines, I will be the first to present this ground-breaking research.

Or maybe that's just the egg-nog and cookies talking, I get kind of goofy when I get all sugared-up. After all, it's just a bunch of puppets...

Merry Christmas.

Johnito.

Parent Teacher Conferences

Last Wednesday, I worked as a translator for parent teacher conferences in a local elementary and junior high school. This wasn't the first time I had done this, I did it in January also. It was a pretty good gig, not only did I get to be a help Latinos with everyday problems, but I got paid and a free lasagna dinner out of it. I would have done it for nothing, but I'm gracious enough to take money and lasagna if they want to give it to me.

Translating on the fly, going between someone speaking English to someone speaking Spanish is fairly tough. It feels like the mental equivalent of weight lifting without taking breathers. What's really strange is those first few minutes, its like you are trying to start a car in the middle of Winter. You stutter and stop, and then finally are able to start speaking fluently. I've asked other non-native Spanish speakers, and this is pretty common. The best I can figure out is that bi-lingual thought processes require some sort of mental priming of the pump.

I started studying Spanish starting about 1995, but I still feel nervous walking into these jobs. Each time I'm less nervous, though. I can remember all the other times I translated, or spoke to a group of people in Spanish and it always worked out fine.

Most of the night I stayed with one family going from teacher to teacher. It was a boy of about 13 and his mom that was about my age. This was great, because while we were waiting for the other students to finish with the teachers, we talked about all sorts of things. By the end of the night we were great friends and talking about politics, cooking, the immigration problems and all kinds of things. The great thing about doing translation this way is that you have the time to develop a relationship with the people you are helping.

This is optimal. While it may be irresponsible to make generalizations about any group of people, most people agree(including Latinos themselves), that personal relationships play a larger part in communication to Latinos than to Anglos. In short, trust without some sort of intimacy is not likely. Without some time spent getting to know one another, or giving people reason to believe that you will treat them fairly, things will always seem a little cold.

An extended get-to-know-you session may not be possible every time, but even in those rushed times, you still stop and shake their hand, tell them your name, and generally take time to be pleasant and human. It's never wasted time.

Juanito

Costa Rica Entries Are Totally Complete Now...

I have finally finished linking all of the entries from my Costa Rica trip together. To read them from start to finish click the link below:

The Big News

There is a link at the end of each entry that will take you to the next entry. I have added all of the pictures to the posts. You can look at all of the pictures at once if you go to my on-line photo album-click the link below:

John's Photo Album

There is also a new post in the middle of July, with lots of pictures, it's called: The Art Show

Juanito

Home at Last

At 10pm Monday night I finally walked into the South Bend Airport and saw my wife after three weeks out of the country. I was tired, smelly, but happy nonetheless. We stopped at Taco Bell on the way home and I had two tacos with hot sauce.

This morning I slept until 11 am and crawled out of bed to a big breakfast of eggs and toast, with the only thing from Costa Rica being the coffee I brought back.

I'm glad to be home.

Juanito

Atlanta Airport

Upon landing in Atlanta I was told that I had to do the following in one hour and thirty three minutes:

1. Go through immigration.
2. Pick up my luggage.
3. Take my luggage through customs.
4. Re-check my luggage to get to my flight for South Bend.
5. Go through a security check-point.
6. Make it to the other side of the airport.

I also wanted something to eat, but I thought that was not possible. So I actually started at pace somewhere between a brisk walk and a jog. I think there may have been actually 5000 people at immigration. They opened up a bunch more lanes and moved us through in about 30 minutes. Then I ran to get my bags, that took about 10 minutes. Luckily, customs did not go through them and Delta had people all along the way pointing us in the right way. The longest part was going through security. Everyone automatically took off their belts and shoes to get through. After that I put my shoes and belt back on and took off for the subway that links all of Atlanta. I started in concourse D and had to get to concourse B, luckily it went from D to C and to B, and not the other way around. I came up the escalator and saw my gate within sight and I had 30 minutes to spare. I headed to Popeye's chicken for some dark meat, a biscuit and some red beans and rice.

I sat at the gate and enjoyed the flavors of cumin and red cayenne pepper which no one in Costa Rica had considered using in any of the dishes I ate during the last three weeks. I wanted to grab someone next to me and say, "Do you realize how incredible this chicken is? I have not had chicken like this for a month-it's a beautiful thing!" I decided my culinary preferences would be lost at best on my fellow travellers.

I had also spent the last hour running like a rat in a maze. Being back in the US reminds me how incredibly stressed we are, and how incredibly efficient we are. I never saw anything like this in Costa Rica, it was like coming off of the farm and going back to the big city. I was stressed, but I was where I needed to be with an incredible piece of chicken in my greasy mitts. The employees of Delta and the INS were not overly friendly, but they knew their jobs and were good at them.

In the end, that's one of the trades between life in the US and life in some parts of Latin America. The US is efficient, fast, has everything you need or want, but leads to a group of people that are stressed-out, impersonal and can come off as kind of rude.

I was reminded of something one of my professors at the language school in Costa Rica told me. She said that people are more important to Latinos than goals. People come before efficiency. That really stuck with me. I don't know how to combine that with gringo-like efficiency. I don't know where that fits in my own job, or my own goals, or who I want to be.

I do know its something I want to be a part of my life...

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Home At Last

The Airport at Liberia

Thankfully, the road from Nicoya to the international airport in Liberia is on a federal highway and there were none of those bone crunching potholes that the country suffers from.

I was glad that I got there two and a half hours early because I had to really jump through hoops to get out of the country. First, I had to stand in line to pay my tourist tax of $26, then I had to check in with Delta, then I had to get something to eat, because Delta does not think coach passengers deserve a full meal for a four hour flight,(I'm a little bitter on this-I would have paid for the meal), then I had to go through immigration and security, finally, I was in the lounge ready to board the plane.

It was really rough being thrown into a pile of gringos again. We are so rude and self-absorbed that I felt kind of sad. I actually preferred the ultra-nice, leisurely pace of Costa Rica, that it was shocking to have to leave that cocoon while I was still in the country itself.

Finally, we boarded the plane and were greeted by the twangy Georgia accent of the flight crew from Atlanta and the cool breeze of air conditioning. Trading air conditioning for Pura Vida is not really a fair trade, but its nothing to scoff at either, especially because it will come with hot showers and real tacos.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Atlanta Airport

Leaving My Host Home

(Near Santa Cruz on the Road to Liberia)

My host mother made a rather large breakfast on my last day in Costa Rica. The standard Gallo Pinto and scrambled eggs made an appearance, as did the the fresh pineapple and banana, but it was followed up with a red delicious apple and a rather large piece of pound cake. My host mother appeared to have some fears that I would faint from hunger on the way, that and she knows I enjoy my food.

She managed to snatch my dirty clothes on Sunday night and wash them and presented me with a going away present of a sculpture made of shells and two packages of Costa Rican coffee,(I already had four packages, I'm drinking some right now). I was overwhelmed. She told me any time I am in Costa Rica to stop by and I will have a place to stay.

(Road to Liberia)

My ride showed up, I threw my bags in the back and gave my host mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and I was gone.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Post: Airport at Liberia

Packing

(Ranch in Rosario)

Not much to report today. Went on a lovely outing with the family to a wild animal park and to a ranch. I'm back home now packing to go home. I´m making a real effort to not bring any roaches or spiders back with me. I probably won´t blog again until Tuesday.

Here's some pictures from my outing today.

(Crocodile)
(Parrot)

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Leaving My Host Home

Bus Trip Back to Nicoya

After getting sun burned and spending more money than I intended to, I got on the bus to go back home to Nicoya. I sat next to two ladies from Nicaragua, who worked as vendors selling things to tourists up and down the beach.



They missed their home a lot and told me its a great place for tourists to come and is getting better. They told me about their typical foods, and how the chicarrones(pork rinds) in Costa Rica are inferior because they are cut by machine.

We talked about the American Dream, they would like to go to America to make money, and they like America and Americans. They said that President Bush has actually helped out their country alot.

They said something that I have heard repeated quite a lot here, from several different sources, that is that Americans and Canadians are better tourists than Europeans. We are more polite, We don´t haggle to the point of being jerks, and we tip well. Germans, French, Spaniards, and people from Great Britain are seen as rude and cheap. Americans are also more likely to know some Spanish.

Speaking of opinions about America, my host mother has not only hosted American students, but she went to Long Island for a trip and had a great time. She said all of the people were lovely and treated her very well.

There´s a lot of people in Costa Rica that like America and Americans. I think they wish we´d get out of Iraq as soon as possible, but they do understand that Muslim terrorists are not the kind of enemy that you can have any type of dialog with, like other enemies.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Packing

Playa Samara

(Playa Samara)

It was sort of shocking to be in such a touristy environment. I heard English and German being spoken everywhere, and people charging four times the prices they charge in Nicoya.

First, I walked along the beach to check everything out and see if I could find my friends from the Institute who were supposed to have been on the bus with me, but did not show.

I had been hoping to collect some rocks while I was here, and this was the place. Not only rocks, but all kinds of pieces of coral washed up on the beach. I soon had to transfer my prizes from my pocket to a zip-lock bag.

(Playa Samara)

I finally decided I was ready for lunch and went to a great little restaraunt that was right on the beach. I ordered a watermelon shake and a plate of rice and shrimp. It was all very good. I had a diet coke with lime after that and lingered.

Since my friends had not shown up, I was not sure how I would go swimming. I mean, Ticos are mostly honest, but I don´t think leaving my bag out on the beach with my money, my MP3 player and my camera is particularly wise. I decided it was time to do a little social engineering.

First, I left a big tip. Most people do not tip in Costa Rica, tips are included in the price. I still do, because I want to get better than average service and also I have this weird feeling of duty to be the nicest American that any Tico meets. I´m on a mission...

So, I walk up to the counter and pay my bill and talk to the owner. "Hola, I really enjoyed my meal. You have a great place here."
"Thanks, glad you liked it."
"Hey, my friends never showed up, and I need to find some place around town that I can stow my bag while I am swimming. Do you know any place where I might be able to leave my bag at?"
"Oh, you can leave it behind the counter with me. No problem at all."
"Oh, that´s great! Thanks a lot!"
"Con mucho gusto!"(You´re very welcome)

I finally got on the beach and smeared myself with bullfrog and jumped in the water. I tasted the salt on my beard, and the water was like a warm bath. No shiverring, no getting in little by little, the Pacific Ocean was my salty bathtub and I frolicked like some great hairy manatee.

(Playa Samara)

First, I went out to about 5 feet high and jumped into the waves. I got salt water in my nose, and soon realized I could lose my trunks doing this. I came back closer to the shore and sat in the surf as it rolled up around me. I got sand in my pockets, and I did not care.

Later, I returned to pick up my bag, and this time had a fresh banana and pineapple shake,(outstanding), and followed up with another diet coke. I walked around town and looked at the souvenir shops and finally lined up for the bus.

I could feel the sun burn all over my body...

Bullfrog had let me down.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: The Bus Trip Back to Nicoya

The Bus Ride

As the bus got up speed and started heading out of town, I suddenly remembered all of those newscasts where a bus somewhere in Latin America plunges off of a hill and everyone aboard dies and then they put up a big Catholic shrine there with lots of candles.

I found that I had to exercise that new travelling skill I have developed since I have been in Costa Rica. I call it, "think-only-happy-thoughts". It works really well, but you have to really concentrate. I really honed it in the bathroom in my house, when I kept having these mental images of huge, scary spiders all hiding under the toilet. I have found it works good for a lot of things, at least until one of those things actually happens, then I don´t know what I´m going to do.


I soon forgot about the fiery heap of metal at the bottom of the hill and enjoyed the incredible scenery. Being in this kind of countryside is like drinking peace in through your eyes. It is every shade of green, with huge mountains, valleys and rivers. There are little farms and lots of those hump-backed cows that seem so popular here, I think the hump is like a heat sink, thats just a theory. Then there are little pastel colored houses and schools and soccer fields in-between.


The bell to ring the driver that you want to get off does not work, but everyone knows this special whistle that makes him stop. He stops anywhere, he also picks people up almost everywhere. People come on and get off the bus with big bags of groceries and bags of wheat, luckily, no goats on this trip though.


I had travelled this road by car before and the potholes are incredible, but they weren´t that bad by bus. It sort of took the shock away. Of course the bus is probably the reason for the potholes, but thats another point.

One hour later, and I was at the beach.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Playa Samara

The Bus Station

I looked about as touristy as I have since I got here. I had my backpack and my camoflage boonie hat and my shiny blue swimtrunks on,(no, they are not those ones that Richard Simmons wears, you know, where half his butt is hanging out, thankfully someone in the garment industry had the wisdom to not make those in my size.). Besides that sterling outfit choice, I had that confused big galloot look that I really try to avoid when I am in Latin America, but keeps showing up from time to time.

I went to the ticket counter and asked to buy a ticket to Playa Samara,(Samara Beach). The lady told me in Spanish that I needed to buy my ticket from the bus conductor and not her in a tone that said I was stupid. I wanted to ask her why she had a job sitting behind a counter that said "tickets" if I was buying the tickets from the driver? Was she just there to put ignorant gringos in our place? But, like so many other times, I just grinned the big galloot smile and said "Gracias".

The bus station is really cool, because there are all these little stores and restaraunts and vendors walking around selling things. This short chubby guy that was selling potato chips came up to me and said in very clear Spanish, "You-are-going-to-Playa-Samara-Right?". I felt like Forrest Gump for a minute. I replied, "Si, a Samara." My big galloot brother then said, "The-bus-leaves-at-10-am-ok?", Then he held up ten fingers to make sure I got the point. I grinned the dumb grin again and said,"gracias."

So I waited around for about 30 minutes and the bus finally showed up. The chip guy came back:"This-is-the-bus-for-Samara-OK?", and he proceeded to point at it. "Gracias, maje! muy amable!",that's Costa Rican Spanish for "Thanks Dude! You´re one of the good ones". Seriously, though, it touched me that he went out of his way to help me, he didn´t even know me and he was not an employee of the bus lines. He was just a guy selling potato chips.

I took a seat in the back by the back door. I was not shocked that there was no AC or bathrooms, but there were snacks. First the jello guy came on the bus, they call them "Gelatinas", and they are in plastic bags, you rip them open with your teeth and suck the icy cold jello through the bag. I decided against this. Then the chip guy came on, it was my Big Galloot brother who had got me on the right bus,(its a secret organization, click here to read more). I felt I had to buy a package of chips from him, it was my duty, and they were only 200 colones, which is less than 50 cents.

Finally, we were off to the beach.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: The Bus Ride

Graduation Day

(Receiving My Diploma)
Today I finished my classes. We had a little graduation ceremony. The other 2 students and I received diplomas and had some cake with our professors and took pictures. I reached the level of Avanzado II. I have 60 hours of class time in Costa Rica, besides living with a family that speaks no English. I feel sort of strange about ending it all. It took forever to just get here, and it felt like forever when I finally got here, and now it feels like it was no time at all. I´m a little sad and a little happy, and a lot relieved.

Tomorrow, I´m heading for the beach, and will leave for Indiana on Monday.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: The Bus Station

Spanish Classes En-Vivo

Today after classes, the institute made us a great lunch of salad and sandwiches and then we took a ride out to a farm about 30 kilometers from Nicoya. The farm belongs to Teresa and Edgar. Teresa is the directora of the institute, and is a great teacher and really keeps an eye on the students to make sure we don´t have any problems with our families. When I was sick last week, she was on the phone to my host mother checking on me.

Teresa and Edgar´s farm is about an hour´s ride up and down mountains on some beautiful Costa Rican roads,(that is sarcasm in case you weren´t paying attention). Bumps aside, the view was outstanding. The mountains are dramatic and high, but covered with every shade of green, just touched at the top by the white mist of the clouds.

When we got to their finca,(farm or ranch, it´s called a rancho in Mexico), they showed us around. They have a building that they do not use that is home to hundreds of murcielagos,(bats). As we walked through the dark rooms, the bats flew above our heads. It was a little un-nerving, but they were fruit bats, so its not a big deal.


(Fruit Bats Living in Teresa and Edgar's Ranch House)
I learned a little about bats here, there are as many bats in Central America as there are half of the number of total mammals. Out of 30 species, there are only two that feed by sucking blood, and only one that would attack humans. They normally eat fruit, and insects. They are very important to control the insect population, especially mosquitos who can spread many diseases such as Dengue Fever.

My two classmates went on a horseback ride and I chose to stay in town. I don´t like horses. I had one evil horse try to kill me when I was 16. Since then, I have come to the conclusion that they are large animals with the intelligence and disposition of a toddler, and we all know all toddlers are not nice...

So Teresa showed me around the little town and we sat down in a Pulperia,(the ubiquitous corner store, there is one within 1000 meters of any vague address here). I drank pop and I practiced my Spanish on all the people in the village.

(Pulpería San Rafael-My favorite pulperia near the school. I stopped here most days for snacks or Coca Light-that's what Diet Coke is called in most of Latin America)
Schmoozing, joking and making new friends is probably my favorite thing to do in Spanish. I also tried a new soft drink called Maxi. Its a non-alcoholic malt soft drink. It was tangy and refreshing, it reminded me of Vernors Ginger Ale a little bit.

It was amazing to see how the pace in the village was even more laid-back,(I did not think that was possible), than in Nicoya, which is not a big town. But it was, everyone sat around, and shot the breeze and came to meet the new gringo. It was a very nice day.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Graduation Day

Bull Fights-Costa Rican Style

A bull fight is called a corrido in Spanish. In corridos in Spain and Mexico and other parts of the Spanish-speaking world, the bullfight is a highly stylized drama that pits the strength of the bull against the skill of the matador. Matador literally means killer.

It is normally common that bull is killed by the end of the bullfight. There are men on horses with spears and the matador himself has a sword to deliver the final blow. It is common for people to get injured or die in bullfights because to the danger of the very large animal with horns and hooves.

Last night I went to a fiesta in the barrio of Los Angeles where they had a corrido. I haven´t said this about many things in Costa Rica, but it was pathetic. The bulls had no horns. There was no matador with silk stockings and a sequined bolero outfit. Instead, there were teenage boys and men in dirty t-shirts and tennis shoes, who were paying to get in the ring to run away from the bull. So there were about 20 people paying to play keep-away from a bull without horns. The bull looked annoyed and scared, and was not very angry.

Now, after awhile the cowboys would come out and on their horses and lasso the bull and take him back to the pen. They were good at what they did and even did some tricks with the rope. Cowboys in Costa Rica are called Sabaneros and not Vaqueros, which is the more common word used in Mexico. The word Caballero literally means "horseman", it was the word used to describe knights in the middle ages. It is used now to refer to a gentleman, or someone who is very polite, such as, "él es muy caballero.",("he is very polite"). Language lesson aside, there were also some bull riders who were very good and interesting to watch, but the corrido really left a bad taste in my mouth.

One of the more interesting things about Costa Rican bull fighting is that they are not allowed to kill the bull. There are very strict laws here that say that you cannot kill an animal for sport, and that you must have a good reason, such as the animal is a danger to others or you are going to have a barbeque.

I have mixed feelings about corridos. The bulls are going to die anyway, so its good to see them get a chance to take revenge. I also think that too many people think that meat comes from some mysterious place already wrapped in plastic. People rarely think about how violence is still a part of the food we eat every day. On the other hand, the corrido is hardly a humane kill.

I think the Costa Rican corrido is an example of the struggle between machismo that is inherant in Latino culture and Costa Rica´s determination to be a progressive country that respects all life. You can´t have it both ways. You can´t be old-school macho and still be educated and progressive.

Something has to suffer...

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Spanish Classes en-vivo

The Fiesta de la Patrona

My host family invited me to come to their family party to celebrate the patron saint of Costa Rica, the Virgin of Los Angeles, also called La Negrita. Here´s some other blog entries if you want to learn more about this holiday:
La Día de la Patrona
La Romeria

We drove over to my host mother´s daughter´s house. They have a large tiled patio with beautiful peach colored walls and the standard iron gates everyone else has. There were chairs set up facing a table with a white tablecloth, flowers and a shrine to the virgin that included candles and an a replica image of the virgin that is in the basilica in Cartago. When I got there, two nuns had arrived and they were setting everything up for the service.

When most everyone arrived, we all stood up for prayer. After prayer the nuns would read about the miracles in the life of the virgin Mary and Jesus as a child, then different people would say what I think was the rosary,(I was raised protestant, so I was pretty lost during the whole thing), then other people would say responses, and then were songs that everyone knew, but me. But it was nice, and it was pretty amazing to see how much everyone had committed to memory.

There are people that say Catholicism is a lazy religion, but I don´t agree. Everyone knew these long sayings and what to repeat when and what to sing when. It was impressive. Finally the service ended and the part of the party started that I could participate in more fully: the eating.

Now, I consider myself a pretty progressive guy, but in Costa Rica, the men stand around and the women serve everybody. My host mother gets a little annoyed if I try to do more than scrape my dishes, so I am ready to do my part for cultural sensitivity and let women bring me food. Its tough, but no one said learning another language and culture would be easy.

The meal started with a really good glass of Horchata, which is a sweet rice drink made with spices. Its very refreshing on a hot day. Then they brought out Elotes, which is corn on the cob. Its actually not bad with some lime and mayonnaise, but it´s not great. Its very different from corn in the US though.

I´m not impressed with Elotes in Mexico or Costa Rica. I know the smaller kernels are more accurate of what maize was when the pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock, but after you have tasted a big, ultra sweet, butter soaked, genetically modified piece of sweet corn, you just aren´t satisfied with anything else.

Then they brought a plate full of rice and barbequed chicken and roast beef and a cold pasta salad. The salad was my favorite part. Ticos do some very good cold salads. Then we had flan for dessert.

Everyone was very friendly, and had a great time. It was a wonderful evening.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Bull Fights-Costa Rican Style

El Día de la Patrona

I walked into Cafe Daniela and there was almost no one in there, just me and two other patrons. Many of the businesses were locked up and there are very few people on the streets. The owner of Cafe Daniela confirmed my suspicions, he said that everybody is at home celebrating La Día de la Patrona.

Today is when Ticos celebrate their patron saint, La Negrita, the Virgin of Los Angeles. I wrote earlier about La Romeria, which is one of the things many people do to celebrate the virgin. Click the link above to also read the story of the Negrita.

The local news here reported that there has been over 2 million people that have made the romeria. In a country this size, that is a considerable amount of people. Some of the books that I read before coming here said that Costa Ricans are really not that religious, but I´ve decided to not agree with that.

At least here in Nicoya, and from what I can see on the news, people here are as religious as they are in other Catholic countries. Other religions are represented here as well. I attend a protestant church, but I know there are a lot of Mormans and a lesser number of Jehovah´s witnesses.

I have to leave the internet cafe soon, my madre tica told me I "debe estar en casa a las tres para ir a la fiesta en la casa de Cecillia",("you better be home by three so we can go to the family fiesta at Cecilia´s house!"). I´ll let you know how that goes, I´m looking forward to it.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: La Fiesta de la Patrona

Safety and Security in Costa Rica

A sense of security is very subjective. Asking about how safe a place is like asking how the economy is doing: the answer is extremely biased and based on perception more than fact.

I flew into the country in Liberia and had no problems. I was also picked up by someone from the school and did not have to deal with a private taxi or bus.

My classmates from Montreal flew into San Jose and they weren´t so lucky. One lady had someone rip her gold chain from her neck and then had a taxi driver drive them double the distance for a small ride.

Happily, they have had no problems since they arrived in Nicoya. They have rode the bus to the beach many times and they go out to parties and have no problems with security. I walk around here at night with no problems, and have not had any problems with crime.

That said, I´m tall and very large and am not an easy target. But there are deperate people with knives and guns in Costa Rica, just like anywhere in the world, so I would give them my money without hesitation.

I still use common sense. I don´t walk around after 9 pm. I stick to main streets and always keep an eye on my surroundings. I cross the street if I am nervous about someone. I only carry about ten to twenty dollars on me at a time and carry a copy of my passport. Everything else I keeped locked up at home.

I feel safer here than I felt in Mexico. Especially in Nicoya, because there are not a lot of tourists here, so it has not drawn an element looking to take advantage of people. The locals are very proud of how safe Nicoya is, but all of there houses have pretty pastel colored steel bars on the front of the house with big locks on both sides.

They are proud of how safe their town is, but they aren´t stupid. I think that´s the key.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: El Día de la Patrona

The Home Stretch

I´ve got two days left of classes and about five days in country left. I´m about to run out of steam, and kind of have to keep pushing myself. It´s been a long three weeks, but I´m ready to go home. I keep having these imaginary conversations between the disciplined John and the lazy John where I keep telling myself to stop whining and suck it up.

So far I´m sucking it up, but I still really want a real taco and a hot shower. I´ve had enough cold showers to last me a long time. But I´m also sad because I have friends, and people recognize me on the street and talk to me.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Safety and Security in Costa Rica

Costa Rican Women

Costa Rican women are not any different than women all over the world. The mix of races here means there are so many very attractive shades of skin. Costa Ricans come in every color of the rainbow, from African, Asian and European, to the indigenous races in this province of Guanacaste.

There are some interesting things about Ticas. They rarely leave the house without makeup and being dressed well. I have seen no one in sweat pants here,(its also too hot for sweatpants!). They love chunky jewelry and their earrings could choke a horse. I suspect that some of them do not possess shoes without a 3" heel. They seem to have no aversion to visible panty lines, and wear bare midriffs when its not necessarily a good idea.

One of the younger girls at the language school said the funniest thing about the women here. She said, "Have you noticed how they have such nice figures when they are young, but after they have a couple of kids their figure is not so great?" We all died laughing and assured her that this is not purely a Costa Rican phenomenom by a long shot.

There are some very attractive women here, that dress very provocatively to say the least. Combine that with a culture that is "overly" friendly,(at least to uptight gringo ideals) and you have a country where its not torturous to be a man.

All that aside, I still feel like I´m starving to death in a Chinese buffet, and all I want is Mexican food, my own enchilada at home...

I miss my wife.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: The Home Stretch

Money Problems

I spent my free time during the last two days dealing with some money problems. My credit card would not work. The first time I used it here, it was declined. I tried it in the teller machine here, and it was declined. My wife called the company and they said it was all worked out.

Today, I went to get some cash out and the same thing happened. So I spent a half hour on the public phone in the park making a long distance call. The bank said that I didn´t withdraw enough, that I was .63 cents short of the minimum withdrawl. That would have been nice to hear from the teller machine here. All it said was "transacción cancelado".

After feeling a little sheepish, I walked to the ATM machine and tried it again with a larger amount-same thing-no money and spit my card back out!

One thing I have learned about Costa Rica stands true for any developing country: if something does not work, try the same thing somewhere else. Really, if one phone does not work, try another. If one bank won`t help you, go to the other one. Things vary from person to person, from business to business.

I walked about another mile and went to the biggest bank in town. They are slow, but they have their act together. I went to their ATM machine first, stuck the card in and in seconds I had several brightly colored 10,000 Colón notes in my sweaty hands.

Amazing...

I still choose to blame my credit card company for being stupid, I called them a month before I left and told them the dates I would be in Costa Rica, then they said that was why they had a block on it. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. American Express they ain`t!

I got my money now, that´s all that matters.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Costa Rican Women

Cost of Living Increases

I had the weirdest conversation with one of my Spanish professors. I told her that I had not got a raise for a long time because business has been bad. She looked at me really quizzically, then said, "Don´t you get a raise every year?". I told her no, it depends on the company and if they can give you a raise or not.

She explained that if you work in Costa Rica, there are two cost of living increases made to your salary every year, it´s the law. The government decides the percentage of the increase. This is for private businesses as well as government businesses.

I was shocked to say the least.

It´s tough to say if this is all bad. Costa Rica has high inflation, and there are a lot of people without jobs. On the other hand, there is a larger middle class in Costa Rica than the rest of Central America. Costa Ricans say they want a more stable economy, like the US, maybe they don´t realize the problems that are inherent in a market driven economy.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Money Problems

The Ricky Martin Poster

I finally took down the Ricky Martin poster that the previous resident had left up in my room. I was really getting tired of him looking at me in that longing, wanton way of his. I wanted to scream at the wall, "Darn it! I`m not just a piece of meat! Don´t you realize that Ricky?"

There was part of me that was torn between wanting to explain to him that it would never work out, we come from such different worlds, and then there was the part of me that wanted to slug him in his perfect Cary Grant chin, to hear him cry like the niñita I suspect he is. I guess he´s always annoyed me even before he got the frosted hair. He has been my least favorite Latino singer since he was in Menudo,(I still can´t get off their fan club list, even after I sent them a notice in Spanish!).

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Cost of Living Increases

La Romeria

I watch the news every morning with my breakfast and I kept noticing all these pictures of people walking on the highway. It was like some Costa Rican Walk-a-Thon, but I never saw Jerry Lewis asking for money, so I was kind of confused. Then I noticed the newscasters were talking about the Camino de Fe,(The Road of Faith), and using the word Romeria.

I asked my friend Jorge, who I meet with twice a week to help him with his English and me with my Spanish. He explained that we are very close to the Fiesta de Los Angeles where people celebrate the patron saint of Costa Rica, La Negrita, or the Black Virgin.

The story goes that a statue of a black madonna was found in the jungle. It had been carved by hand out of black rock, presumably by the indigenous people. The statue was taken to the church and put on display. The next day the statue was gone. It was later found in the same part of the jungle it came from. They took it back to the church, and once again it disappeared to reappear at the same place in the jungle. The third time, they decided to build a church at the site where they found the statue.

La Negrita is said to have powers much like La Virgen de Guadalupe in Mexico has. Jorge explained that people ask La Negrita to heal them, or help them with a problem, and they promise that if she does that they will go on a romeria to the basilica in Cartago where the statue is to "pagar la promesa", to keep their promise. It can be a very long journey, and it was to be done on foot, when they get to the basilica, some people approach the altar on their knees, much like they do in Mexico to the Virgin of Guadalupe.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: The Ricky Martin Poster

In Praise of the Casado

Costa Rican food may not be as interesting as Mexican food, but its good, and normal and they do not skimp on the portions. When I am really hungry, and want more than a nibble, which is most of the time, I order a Casado.

Casado means literally married man, and its a good homestyle meal that fills most of the plate. Its generally not a bad deal. Today I ordered the casado con chuleta de cerdo, the pork chop lunch.

It came out with black beans and rice, a really tasty cold potato salad, some fried plantain chips and a large butterfly pork chop that was crispy on the edges.

I did not leave hungry, and actually did not have to fight the desire for the national dessert, Queque de Tres Leches, which I have had once, and it is outstanding.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: La Romeria

The Stare

I met a guy from Liverpool last week who said the first thing he noticed about Nicoya was that everyone stared at him and his friend from Ireland. He was about 6 foot 4 inches tall, and she had very blonde hair, so I could see why they stood out.

I hadn´t really noticed the stare. I figure its either because I´m kind of thick, or because if I see someone looking at me, I say "Buenas Tardes" or "Hola" or something like that, and they usually smile back and then look away.

On Sunday, I understood what he was talking about. Many of the restaraunts are closed on Sunday, except for the Chinese restaraunts and the smaller sodas,(thats what Ticos call a small roadside cafe). So I headed off for a restaraunt called "El Presidential", one of the people at the language school goes there for lunch all the time.

I walked in out of the bright sunshine into the dark room looking for an empty table, and everywhere I looked I saw these sets of wide eyes staring at me from eight different tables. It was kind of intimidating. I looked to the right, hoping to find a table, and there was a family that was enjoying a nice Sunday dinner. The difference was they weren´t gawking, they were smiling at me. The father was a big guy like me in a yellow shirt, and his wife was in a pretty violet top with her hair in a pretty bun. He said "Hi" in English to me, and we made small talk for about 10 seconds and I found a table next to them. It´s good to see the brotherhood of Big Galoots has a chapter down here too. It´s like the Masons, but not so strict, nor so energetic, and not normally allowed to meet at buffets for fear of financial ruin.

After I sat down, most of the eyes had stopped looking at me, except a hawk-faced thinnish grandfather, looking at me like I was the ruin of Tico culture with my Gringo ways, corrupting the children. I wanted to tell him that if he was so afraid of Gringo culture, maybe he should not eat at a restaraunt with a subtitled Matthew Perry movie behind him, I mean, could he be any more gringo?

Finally, grandpa gave it a rest and I settled down to my sweet and sour shrimp with french fries and diet coke with lime. The shrimp was fantastic, but I am getting tired of papas fritas, though they are good with the lime mayonaise that is served here.

Kvetching about staring aside, its part of the package. There are places in Costa Rica that are full of gringos, and no one stares at you. In these places you don´t have to speak Spanish, and you can get a proper cappucino, and there aren´t all these dirty street people asking you for money for food, even though you are sure its for liquor. There are proper places in Costa Rica, where a gringo can be comfortable. Why come to a place like that? Stay home if you have to have everything your way and don´t want to do deal with people that aren´t like you.

At least in Nicoya, its still not a popular tourist location, so you can see what the real Costa Rica is like, and talk to real people, without the homogenous cultural insulation and superior service that tourism seems to bring.

I´ve been on the other side too. I remember when I grew up in Central Oregon. Diversity hadn´t really become an issue out there at that time,and it was 95% Caucasian. I remember as a kid, I would stare when I saw someone different. It wasn´t because I was rude, it was just like I could hear that song from Sesame Street in my head:

"One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?"

It´s just human nature to gawk at things that aren´t normally seen in your environment...

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: In Praise of the Casado

Costa Rican Addresses

Its amazing what you can learn from everyday information. Take addresses for instance. Here´s the address where I live in Costa Rica:

Bar los ranchitos, 25 metros al norte, casa blanca, verjas verdes canoa azul

That translates to:Go 25 meters north of Los Ranchitos bar and look for the white house with green and blue trim.

Here´s the address for the language institute where I study:

100 metros este y 100 metros norte de la escuela Cacicue Nicoa, Barrio El Carmen.

Which translates to:In El Carmen Neighborhood, find the Cacicue Nicoa school, from there go 100 meters East and then 100 meters North.

I was looking for a phone yesterday, a friend told me, "Go 50 meters that way and and then 20 meters that way and you´ll find a phone." So I followed their directions and found nothing. I asked a guy walking by where the phone was and he said, "Oh, they just removed it. Look, just go 100 meters North and 100 meters West and there´s another phone there." I told him thanks and headed off. No phone anywhere near there. Then it started raining, so I decided to hold off making any calls for a while.

In my job back here in Gringolandia, I spend all day looking for accurate addresses so I can correctly dispatch mechanics and wreckers to help my customers. I actually get a little impatient if someone is vague with me. It´s such a different mindset. Most places in the U.S. have an exact address with a nine digit zip code that I can look up on Microsoft Map-Point. I can go to google earth and get a aerial photo and also find the closest Taco Bell to that address by using Super Pages.

So who´s right? It´s obvious that Ticos aren´t into incredibly exact addresses. There aren´t even street signs at the corners. No numbers on the houses. It´s all so sloppy to my uptight North American mind.

Of course, everybody here knows where everything is. They know everybody. They don´t have any problems getting around. I think the real difference is that exact addresses are just part of a North American mindset that makes being anonymous so much easier. You don´t have to be a local to find something in North America, you can look it up on the computer. You don´t have to ask for directions, or get to know people or even get involved.

It might be easier to find things in the U.S., but at what price? I think I kind of prefer the friendly, unstressed, vagueness.

Pura Vida...

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: The Stare

102 Degrees

I had planned to go to the beach on Saturday. About 2 am Saturday morning, I had an inkling my plans would be changed. I woke up shivering, and then had to spend some quality time in my bathroom, which thankfully has been spider-free since I used the insecticide. I was bundled up in my flannel shirt, jeans, and Sponge-Bob Squarepants towel,(never forget your towel!).

Then the other problem started, my temperature rose to 102 degrees, and stayed that way for about three hours. With the continual trips to the bathroom, and the fever that had not budged over four hours even with Tylenol and Ibuprofen and a cold shower, I decided it was time to break out the antibiotics I had brought with me: Cipro-good for Anthrax and whatever else may ail you.

The rest of the day I was pretty miserable. I spent the day reading my 900 page novel and listening to Dave Brubeck on the MP3 player. I still had a fever but it stayed around 100 to 101 and never went back up to 102 again. I could eat, and I didn't have to spend so much time exposed waiting for the spiders to return.

My host mother kept checking on me when I told her I had not been feeling well. I told her thanks for being so concerned, she said, "Pues, preocupo.", which means, "well, I´m worried about you." When dinner came around she made me this huge bowl of chicken soup with boiled eggs, cilantro, carrots, noodles and zucchinini and rice in it. It was just the thing. I got a blanket and toddled off to bed and slept for about twelve hours after a little pharmaceutical help from Mr. Vicodin.

It meant a lot to know someone was worried about me, and that they would take me to the doctor if I got worse. It's also comforting to know that there are several medical clinics, pharmacies and a good hospital in Nicoya. Being sick is always rough, but being a few thousand miles from home makes it worse. I can´t imagine what I would do if I could not speak Spanish. I´d be miserable and no one would understand what was wrong.

So far today, my temperature has not been over 100, I went to church, and am out walking around. I´m not 100% yet, but I´m about 75% well.

Juanito

On the MP3 Player:"Never is Enough" by the Barenaked Ladies

Next Costa Rican Entry: Costa Rican Addresses

The Bank

At about 12:10 pm I entered the Banco Nacional to cash a traveller´s cheque and change some Dollars into Colones. I got in line and there was about six people in front of me and three tellers working, out of seven cajas or teller boxes available.

A young woman had brought a big bag of 4 or 5 stacks of the pretty pink 1000 Colón notes and started a 25 minute transaction that probably strained the entire banking system of the country for a while, at least that´s what it looked like when the teller kept going back and forth to 2 or 3 superiors and she kept making cellular phone calls as he worked on this huge transaction.

A scraggly long-haired gringo in cargo shorts and his companion in a pink halter top and white hot pants were also putting a strain on the banking community with an equally intensive transaction. Their trip ended with a new debit card, a large bag of coins and the teller making 5 trips to all parts of the bank for several signatures, and several photocopies.

Bureaucracy is alive and well in Latin America.

The line had swelled to 19 people and most of us had been there 30 minutes with no movement in the line at all. The whole "Pura Vida" attitude was not holding firm, people were getting impatient. We all had a glimmer of hope when the two people who had held up the line finally left, and a new teller came back from lunch. One of the people stepped forward to a caja and the teller promptly put the "Cerrado Temporada" sign up so he could go to lunch. There was a group groan. We would never get out of here.

Then a guy with a rucksack cut the line and went to the window where the guy had just closed up, and he started helping him! Finally, an older bald gentleman with a yellow shirt, cell phone and a self-important look started making a fuss. First he started talking to the rest of us in the line about how this was so unfair and that this was probably the teller´s friend, then he finally walked up to the tellers window and told him that this was "Chorizo",(I guess it means more than spicy sausage), and it was not justo(fair) that he let this guy cut the line when there was so many people waiting. The teller said something that sounded like "if you don´t like it you can go to the back of the line. I´m entitled to take my lunch after I help this guy!"

Finally, the security guard came up and talked to the guy in the yellow shirt. He explained that the guy with the rucksack was an employee of the bank who was delivering papers to the bank, and that he was not cutting the line." It didn´t matter to the yellow shirt. He had now been embarassed because he lost his cool. The guard actually had to break out the, "Sea tranquilo."(Calm down! be cool!) on the guy.

While I hated to see him lose his cool, it was kind of funny to see that Pura Vida is not magic, people here lose their cool too. Everyone has limits to their patience.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: 102 Degrees

Another Bomba

Here´s another Bomba:

La piedra que mucho rueda,
No sirve para cimiento.
Como el hombre sin verguenza,
que no trata de casamiento.

Like a rolling stone,
Doesn´t work in cement,
The man without shame,
Never prospers in marriage.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: The Bank

I´m Thinking of Telling People I´m Canadian, Ehh?

Really, I am.

It´s not because I´m not patriotic, or anything like that. I love my country and am proud of it. I just think that there are other countries in the world and I wish people would stop being obsessed with everything from the U.S.

It gets a little tiring people asking you so many questions about anything related to movies and music and any kind of media from the U.S. After a while, you start to feel like the richest kid in school. Do people really like you, or do they just want to hang out with you because you are rich? When I tell them I´m not that rich and this trip is on my student loan, they give me that look that says, "sure, whatever you say Gringo. You´re not fooling us. We know you´ve got a solid gold toothbrush and silk toilet paper."

Now, not everyone is like this, but there are enough people that it gets old real quick. I´ve often thought that the obsession the rest of the world has with the U.S. media is unhealthy because it makes them less proud of their own culture and arts.

So I´m now going incognito as Gordie McDonald, Ehh? I have to remember I´m from Cornwall, Ontario, I love hockey and eating donuts at the Tim Horton´s on the weekends.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Another Bomba

Police

I have seen a lot of police and soldiers during my trips to Latin America. I also worked for six months as a police dispatcher, so I have went on ride-alongs and spent a lot of time working with policemen.

Policemen in Mexico are kind of scary, the soldiers even more so. They are very grim-faced, spit-polished, squared off individuals. They don´t smile much, and have this look like they are ready for anything. They are heavily armed with light machine guns, assault rifles and pistols. They have been known to be corrupt, and try to shake down people for bribes. In some parts of Mexico, many people think that the police are the ones responsible for the crimes. Now, these are some generalizations, but the description of the armed forces and police as scary, grim individuals that you do not want to mess with is accurate. Costa Rica is very different. There is no army here. There are no checkpoints where soldiers search your bag, and the police here are very different. Here´s an example.

Sunday, I was standing in the park watching the fireworks on the last night of the fiesta. I watched a group of college students from California pose with a group of Costa Rican policemen. You would never see this in Mexico.

The policemen here are much older, they aren´t all pumped up and bulky with muscles. They look like very ordinary guys, some of them are older or middle aged. They are not young guys with flat tops who look like they take steroids.

Most of them carry a revolver and a nightstick. They do not have belts that are bulging with ammo and stun guns and pepper spray like cops in the U.S. . In fact the only times I have seen a bullet-proof vest was when the president came to town. But even then I did not see a machine gun of any kind, only pistols (I´m sure the presidents guards have some). The weird thing about that day was that I was able to get 30 feet from the president with no problem or being searched. Today I saw cops on the morning news with machine guns, but they were doing a drug raid, so that sort of makes sense.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: I'm Thinking of Telling People I'm Canadian, Ehh?

Bomba

Nicoya is in the province of Guanacaste. Something that is unique to this area of Costa Rica is a type of poetry called a "Bomba". This is a short burst of poetry, normally about four lines. It is also put to music, such as a flute. It is very similar to Rap.

My Spanish teacher said that they are normally considered part of "La Conquista", such as a witty saying a man would use to impress a woman, or something a woman would say to respond to a witty saying. Essentially, they are considered part of courtship.

During the fiesta, Bombas were everywhere. Everybody knew a bomba, from old people to little kids, its expected that you know two or three. Here´s one my Spanish teacher taught me, with the English translation to follow.

Yo nunca me casaría
Con vieja por la moneda,
Después la plata se acaba
Y la mula vieja queda

I would never marry
With an old women for the money.
When the silver is gone,
The old mule remains.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: The Police

Seafood Pizza

(Playa Carrillo)

We took a side trip to the beach today, and it promptly started raining when we got there. We stopped to get some lunch at a nice pizza restaraunt in Playa Samara on the Pacific Coast. The place was just bustling with tourists, germans, french, and I even heard a nasally-Long-Island-accented Spanish,(it was not pretty).

It´s so strange the way I feel about tourists. I don´t like them. I find them annoying. I know thats incredibly stupid, me being one, but there it is. Maybe its this desire to be the only one, maybe I can´t stand hearing picky gringos with bad Spanish asking for impossible things, maybe I think that they are going to ruin a perfectly good country because they are so picky and freak out at the sight of spiders and cockroaches.

Whatever it is, I don´t like them, but I am them, so there it is...

I ordered the seafood pizza, and it was very different. There were piece of shrimp, scallops, crab legs and squid. It was good, but could have used more garlic and less squid.

(More of Playa Carrillo)

I did dip my feet in the ocean, it was warm as bathwater. I will visit on Saturday if it does not rain again.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Bomba

Latino Culture

Today I had a long talk with my Spanish professor about Latino Culture. She explained that to Latinos, people and their feelings are more important than business. She said that it is really impossible to do business in the Latino world without developing personal relationships.

I explained to her how people in my business can be so short to each other, that we don´t spend time with pleasantries, and we are told to get off the phone as quickly as possible. She said she found that revolting, and that speaking in such a way is a foreign concept to Ticos and most Latinos.

They see taking the time to greet each other, ask about your family and how you are doing as essential to any kind of business. To Latinos, building a personal relationship with people is always the first step in any kind of business, as you can´t do business with people you don´t trust.

I guess this is always one of the things that I have found attractive about this culture. People are put before business, and transactions are not always a cold impersonal call, but something worth spending time on.

Juanito


Next Costa Rican Entry: Seafood Pizza

"Be on Your Best Manners in Costa Rica"

That was the advice a gringa living in Costa Rica gave me when I asked what to expect. It´s been probably one of the best pieces of advice I have heard. Manners are important all over Latino America, but in Costa Rica they are very important. This shows up in the way Spanish is spoken here.

In many countries when you say "gracias", the standard answer is, "de nada", which translates as "it´s nothing, think nothing of it". Here in Costa Rica, they say "con mucho gusto", which translates as "with much pleasure". I like this better. It makes me feel good.

One of the other examples is when you leave a room, or get up to go, you say "con permiso", which means, "with your permission", its not really necessary, but its such a nice touch.

Now you don´t have to worry that Ticos will upbraid you or yell at you if you are rude. They aren´t like that. They are truly gracious. But if you are sensitive to people´s feelings, you will know when you have done something wrong.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Latino Culture

Helado

Helado is the word for ice cream here. I recently went and got two scoops of one of the craziest flavors I have ever had, Orange with Choclate Chip.

Actually, it was great.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Be on Your Best Manners in Costa Rica

"I Love the Smell of Insecticide in the Morning...It Smells Like Victory!"

I slept very well last night. I stumbled out of bed, and headed to the bathroom that is attatched my cabina. I was sitting there deep in meditation...and stuff, when that incredible cat-like peripheral vision of mine promptly tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Yo, dude, there is something brown moving on the shower door about 10 inches from your head.

I jumped up, pulling my jockeys up in order to protect..stuff. I looked around and saw nothing. Then I looked up and saw what must have been el más grande, pinche, feo, araña, that I have ever seen!(The Spanish phrase meant big ugly spider, and a little more added for emphasis). The body was about two inches long, and with the legs it was the size of my palm, which is pretty big.


I was suddenly transported back to playing Doom III, where these huge spiders with skeleton heads come out of the walls and I had a full blown case of the heebie jeebies. They should put a warning on that game, "Not recommended for persons with mild cases of arachnophobia". After I got my composure, I killed the spider with my tennis shoe. I took my shower and dried off and put my robe on and turned to shave and there was another one!

I suddenly rethought the whole clean cut look, and decided to get dressed first. I came back and killed this one. I didn´t have the energy to do anything else. I went to get some breakfast before I continued facing one of my minor phobias that felt sort of major today. I mean, what´s next-Sarah Brady in the White House? It was really enough for one day.

After gallo pinto, watermelon, fresh pineapple, and coffee, I was ready to face the menace again. I asked my host mother if she had anything to kill spiders with and she said real off-handedly, "oh yeah, I keep a big sprayer of insecticide just for that, its over there by the washing machine."

So I sprayed the hole where they are coming out, and sprayed under the toilet,(I like surprises, but not while I am there), then headed to school. The Lonely Planet Guide says most of the spiders in Costa Rica are not venemous, and that most of them are harmless. This is confirmed by other places, and everybody around here agrees that the spiders will not kill you and they are good for killing other pests.

It doesn´t make them any less creepy, ok?

Juanito

On the MP3 Player:"Island Life" by Michael Franks

Next Costa Rican Post: Helado

The President Comes to Town

(Protest Sign-"Mr. President, we are waiting for you to strengthen your projects that help the small farmer.")
Today we all cut class early, even the teachers, in order to go hear the president of Costa Rica, Oscar Arias, speak. Today is a national holiday that celebrate the annexation of the region of Guanacaste as part of Costa Rica. After this occurred, Costa Rica was a nation that stretched from the Pacific to the Caribbean Ocean.

As we walked to the town square, a convoy of tractor trailers drove through town. They kept using their air horns and driving really slow. They had signs on their trucks protesting the condition of the roads here in Costa Rica. They were also protesting because there has been a new call for all truck drivers who haul trailers,(they call them "traileros" here), to receive psychological testing after a rash of deaths caused by traileros. The traileros say this is not fair, and that everyone should be tested who drives any type of motor vehicles. I´ve met enough truck drivers that I think they should all be sent to a shrink, its a good idea. Besides that, 100,000 pounds of metal and steel, is a little different than a 1 ton pick-up truck.


(Oscar Arias Sanchez-President of Costa Rica)
When we got to the park, there were a lot of people. Personal space was not really an issue. There were people everywhere, and very few people sat down. There were protestors, and picket signs, mostly against TLC. When the president arrived, people started yelling very loudly, "No TLC!". There was only one person yelling, "Sí, TLC!". I was managed to get a really great place to stand, about thirty feet directly in front of the president. The bad part was that the sun was brutal. I think I got a bit of a burn, I hope it was worth it.

It took about an hour before the president spoke. First, they signed three or four new projects into law: a new clean water act, and an act that formed a new group of police to help with tourism, and two others I did not catch.

They also presented certificates to local people for new houses. The Costa Rican Government actually builds very modest houses for the poor or elderly that truly cannot afford them, and presents them to the people as a gift with no strings attatched. I talked to a lady today whose 70 year old mother just recieved her new house, they were very excited. Her mom got to meet the president, and was presented with a certificate for her new house.

Finally, the president spoke. He is very interesting and a very good speaker. He said he had been raised on a finka(farm) and that he felt he was a part of Guanacaste,(all politicians are such suck-ups). But then he spoke about his plans for the future. He actually admitted the roads suck, which is good, because the week before the local government was fixing them up before he came. He explained what they are going to do for tourism, and how they are trying to promote the economy. He did not really say much about TLC.


(Oscar Arias Sanchez-President of Costa Rica)
He finally turned his attention to more global matters. He´s very good about being a very intelligent voice for the smaller countries in the world. He is a Notre Dame Graduate, and also won a Nobel Peace Prize, so he is not a slouch by a long shot.

He said that lately many larger countries in the world have made a big deal about helping poorer countries in Africa and Latino America, but they still persist with the hyprocrisy of subsidizing industries in their country, so that poorer countries still do not have the chance to compete in a fair global market. Pretty harsh words, but well thought out and fair.

He then turned his attention to the problems in the Middle East. He pointed out that no good ever comes from the slaughter of innocent civilians, such as in Lebanon and Haifa. He reminded all of us how there had been a peace accord in the nineties in the middle east and how important it was that all sides sat down to negotiate,(It seemed a little idealistic to me, but I´m a cynic and he´s the nobel prize winner).

After he finished his speech, I beat feet to get out of the park and head to Cafe Daniela to get out of the sun and get some diet coke with ice,(the ice is safe here!). As I walked in and sat down, I saw the TV with the image of the central park in Nicoya, where I had just been becoming un plato de gringo asada. I could have kicked myself. Except for getting a couple pictures of the president, why didn´t I just come to the cafe? I could watched the speech in the shade with a fan, and nice Latinas bringing me cold drinks and snacks. Oh well, I´ll just mark this one up to my incredible desire to learn, and my commitment to do whatever it takes to understand Latino culture, and hope it helps my final grade here.

Are you reading this Professor Davis?

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: "I Love the Smell of Insecticide in the Morning...It Smells Like Victory!"

Hamburgers

While I am thinking about food, let me tell you about Saturday night. My madre tica, (Costa Rican Mother) made me hamburgers and french fries. They were lovely...

The buns were soft, the meat had spices and onions and tomatoes mixed in it, and was soft, not greasy or overcooked. There was fresh onions and tomatoes and real lettuce, not cabbage. The french fries were outstanding and steam came out of them when you broke them open. She even had cold ketchup and this great mayonnaise with lime in it on the side,(I dip my fries in mayo-got a problem with that?).

It was a beautiful thing. I was choked up. She went out of her way to cook something American for me, and she did as good of a job as any American cook.

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and said Muchas Gracias. That´s ok here...really.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: The President Comes to Town

Costa Rican Chalupas

I ordered this Saturday at Cafe Daniela. It was like a chicken tostada with tomatoes, onions, cabbage and mayonaise. I´m not going to order it again. I´m dieing for some cilantro here....

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Hamburgers

Muy Machista

Machismo is alive and kicking in Costa Rica. Here, they describe a macho as being "Muy Machista". That would mean he believes the usual litany of macho b.s. . You know: a woman´s place is in the house, cooking and cleaning, woman are only good for certain things and are not equal with men, etc., etc. , etc.

When I have shot the breeze with men here, they are just as big of dogs as Mexican men,(maybe not as violent, or nuts as Mexican machos), but Tico men do have their macho side that is not that pretty. Men here don´t whistle at women like other places, instead they hiss to get their attention, like some air leak gone awry.

My professor Alberto told me that Machisimo is not the problem in Costa Rica that it was. There are very good laws in place protecting women from domestic violence, and even verbal abuse. Alberto pointed out that Costa Rica´s high rate of education and good economy has really helped diminish the effect of Machismo. There have been several female vice presidents in Costa Rica, and many of the ministers in the governor now are women.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Costa Rican Chalupas

A New Week

Today I started a new week and a new level of Spanish. I am incredibly fortunate that there are no other students in the advanced level right now, so I have my own professor. This option is available to anyone, but its not cheap. I just happened to come during a slow season, and lucked out.

My professor from last week is not here and he has been replaced by a lady named Grecia, who is an honest to goodness Spanish Teacher in a local high school teacher. She does not speak much english at all, but that is not an issue at this level, actually it´s good to not have that crutch. She´s very nice and we get along great.

Tommarow, I am going to another pronunciation workshop and then on Wednesday we are going to the beach.

Ohhh Yeahh....

Juanito.

Next Costa Rican Entry: Muy Machista

Tutoring

Last week I signed up to be part of a program here where they match students at the institute with local people that want to learn English. So I can practice my Spanish with someone that needs help with their English.

Today I met my new friend, Jorge Carrillo. He is a little older than me, he is married and has about four or five kids. He is a finquero, a farmer, and has been learning English off and on for some time. He may have an accent,(not that I am one to talk), but his vocabulary is very good and he is very understandable. We hung out for about two hours and had a coke at Cafe Daniela.

(Jorge Carrillo)
Its always great to work with people who really want to learn another language. Many people try a little and then lose interest, but there are others who just will not be satisfied until they speak well, no matter what. In learning another language, a steadfast desire to learn is really the most important thing. Accent will improve, and vocabulary will grow, but desire has to be a constant.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: A New Week

Marimba in the Park.

(Marimba concert in the park)
Today there was a Marimba concert in the park. There were no bum dancers this time, I think they are on strike after yesterday. The Marimbas in Costa Rica are made of wood and are beautiful. They have a full, rich, sound that is incredibly happy. Because of the tone that comes from the wood, they aren´t really good to use for any kind of really fast music. They remind me of what Steve Martin said about the banjo, "You can´t sing a sad song with a banjo!"

The Marimba is the same way. It is warm and unhurried, it is almost the musical equivalent of Costa Rican favorite phrase: Pura Vida. This means so much more than Pure Life. It means everythings ok, live the good life, don´t be worried about anything, enjoy yourself, spend time with friends, enjoy the pure life.

When you meet people on the street and ask them how they are doing, many times they answer "Pura Vida!". It´s an all purpose expression that is useful for so much.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Tutoring

The Salsa Concert in the park

(Salsa Concert)

Saturday, there was a Salsa and Merengue concert in the park as part of the fiesta. I found a seat close by and got a diet pepsi with lime and sat down to enjoy it. It was a good group. They had a saxaphone, trumpet, piano and an incredible percussion section. There were three singers. A guy with perfect hair and sunglasses and two girls who seem to wear that same brand of flare-cut-two-sizes-too-small jeans that are very popular around here.

They were having a great gig and everyone was sitting around enjoying themselves when the real show started. Out of the crowd came an older Asian man who looked to be mentally challenged. He also had a larger than normal butt,(not that I´m one to talk, but this point is important to the story).

As the group played, he started to dance. It was a very, well, shall we say, provocative dance. He had some incredible hoochie mama moves. You know that thing where the girls shake their hips back and forth really fast, like you see on rap videos? He was doing that. It was like a car wreck, you could not take your eyes off it. It was like if Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas had a child with Forest Gump.

Soon he left. I was both relieved for the band, and kind of sad to see him go. I just had to respect that the home-boy had studied, and he brought all the love he had for us. It was like William Hung on American Idol. You could not help but like him for being so utterly brave in the face of utter mediocrity.

The band was relieved for about one song, and they were twirling and moving their hips in perfect timing. I just love Salsa, even if I could not dance it at gunpoint, I still love it. Then, out of the shadows came the next dancer.

Actually two showed up. The first had a mustache and blue shirt. He had a real interesting style. It was obvious he had studied Michael Jackson during the early "Billy Jean" days, but he was influenced by something else, but what was it? Then it hit me. He was mixing the subtleties of Michael Jackson´s "Billy Jean" moves with the incredibly retro Wild-West Gold Prospector shuffle. But in the end, try as he might, it just ended up looking like bum dancing. It was sad, because with some real choreography, maybe a 12 step program, and some mousse, he could do something with that.

Then his partner showed up. He was also wearing a blue shirt, but he proceeded to take it off and do some freestyle Merengue moves about five feet from the band. He was wearing his pants very low on his waist, I was pleased to see there was no thong sticking out. He tired of the freestyle dancing after awhile, and seeing there was no oil to put on his burnished chest, he was struck by a flash of inspiration. He soon moved to the far left side of the bandstand, and started waving his partner to get out of the way. He was going to do some acrobatics!

He kept teasing us by taking three steps and then stopping. His partner persisted in getting in his way. Finally the wait was over and he did a cartwheel. It was really a half-hearted attempt. He went back to some free style Merengue, and then another pathetic cartwheel. After the cartwheel, he went to the band leader and they seemed to have some conversation where he put his hand out.

I assumed he was explaining that he should be paid scale for the sort of artistic expression that he had brought to the exhibition that day. He left empty handed. The police had been watching all of this. I assumed they were either just too tired from the heat to care, or bum dancing is a constitutionally protected form of free speech. I´ll have to do some more research on that.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry:Marimba in the Park

Sunday Morning

(Iglesia "Jesus es el Señor")
Today I went to church. I found a little church about three blocks from my house called "Jesus es el Señor" Pentecostal Church. The service started at 9 am, and I was there by 10 minutes til 9. I still have not got on Tico Time. I seem to show up early for everything. The service did not start until 10 minutes after, I don´t know why I thought I had to be early.

From the moment I came in the building, everyone came up and shook my hand. They were very warm, and it felt like home. That´s the great thing about church. No matter what country you are in, you can go somewhere and people will be glad to see you, because you are family.

The sermon was very good. The pastor said that God´s most important plan for your life is not what you do. Instead, the most important plan for your life is if the character of Jesus Christ is cultivated in your heart.

Its amazing how much similar churches can be even though they so many miles apart. Except for the language difference, and Ticos being more affectionate than churches in the U.S., I felt like I was in the Assembly of God where I attended as a kid.

When the pastor said "Ya Termino", which translates to "I´ll be done with the sermon very quickly.", I could tell by the clock that it meant exactly the same thing that it means in Gringolandia.

Absolutely nothing...

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Salsa Concert in the Park

The Eternal Stuggle Between Good and Evil.

I hate cockroaches. I don´t know what it is, but they represent everything bad in the world. Like they are the Satan´s personal hordes, sent to piss me off. I went to get into bed and a two inch one came out of nowhere and started making laps around my bed. He finally jumped on the floor and I distributed three hundred pounds of ugly to him in a personally negative way.

I thought we had some sort of understanding. I would not look for them, and they would not show themselves to me. I thought it was a good plan, but the little terrorists keep showing up to get on my last nerve.

Really, this is only the third one I have seen since I have been here. My house is very clean, and this not that big of a deal. I just really don´t like them. But I have an ally that keeps them at bay: the gecko. Geckos live in most houses, and you see them in gardens and on the street. They are cute green lizards that make these cheerful chirping noises, like some happy little bird. They eat the roaches. They are my heroes, and they never try to sell me insurance if I tell them I´m not interested. I appreciate that.

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Sunday Morning