An Ode to Costa Rica

By Lisa Ofstedal, WorldTeach volunteer 2008

We left our lives last year
The Americas to roam.
Land here in a daze
Costa Rica, our new home.

Everything's so new here
I'm in over my head.
Que? Como? Repita please!
Think I'll go back to bed

Piropos left and right
As I walk down the street.
Psst, psst, Mamacita!
Thank you, that's so sweet.

Moto, horse, or pick-up bed
The ways to get around.
Where's the seatbelt? A helmet, at least?
Nah, we're safe and sound.

The kids, they are real cute
But they'll drive you to your limit.
FINISHED, Teacher, FINISHED FINISHED!
Just shut up a minute!

Regalame una cerveza
Imperial will do.
It tastes a lot like water
But at least it goes down smooth.

Pinto first for breakfast
Rice and beans for lunch.
What could be for dinner?
I think I have a hunch.

Our poor digestive systems
Never quite at ease.
If it ain't too fast, it's moving too slow
Pass the pepto, please.

A multicultural romance
As the months grow long.
"Should we go back to your place?"
"Well, I'll have to ask my mom."

Hitting up a baile
Our dance skills there to hone.
How about some CUMBIA!!
Merengue, reggaeton.

Costa Rica, you've done me good
This trip, it was a boon.
Now I have two happy homes
I'll not forget you soon.

Turkey Day

Thanksgiving was a raving success. We ate turkey and dressing and green beans and some kind of potato dish that was sweet, although not sweet potatoes. In the second photo you can see me in heaven, eating pumpkin pie. I was very thankful.

Volcanos

Almost finished

I only lack Indonesia, Antartica and a few other random islands here and there. The students are mad at me, though, because Costa Rica is so small. They'd had no idea. Teacher! But it's so small! Why?

Other than that, the map is a big hit. The kids are always crowded around it, getting their first glimpses of the world as a whole. I think they are impressed, not only that I painted the map but also that the world is so big.

Fun with fourth grade

El gatito

For real

stock photo

I’ve been reading a book called A Crack in the Edge of the World by Simon Winchester. It’s about the history of earthquakes in North America, particularly one that devastated California in 1906. I’ve taken to reading the rather dull book every night before bed as a way to drug my mind into a deep sleep so as not to dwell on the uncertainty of my future plans. I finished the book Tuesday night with this passage,

“All that humans do, and everywhere that humans inhabit, is for the moment only – like the cherry blossoms in a Japanese springtime that are exquisite simply by virtue of their very impermanence. Geology … serves as an ever-present reminder of this – of the fragility of humankind, the evanescent nature of even our most impressive achievements… It is a reminder, too, that this consent is a privilege and one that may be snatched away suddenly, and without any warning at all.”

It was while pondering this notion that I drifted into sleep, where I stayed soundly until just past midnight when I awoke to a foreign sensation. My bed was rocking back and forth. I pulled myself out of bed and struggled to stay on my feet as the floor shifted to and fro underneath me. I heard my host sister shout, “Mami!” so I knew I wasn’t dreaming. I opened my door to find the whole family standing in their respective bedroom doorways looking utterly confused. “Oh my God,” my host sister said in English. The next morning all the talk at school was of el temblor. There had been a powerful earthquake in Panama near the Costa Rican border.

The earthquake gave me such a strange feeling, as if I was standing on the surface of the ocean, being bounced gently by consecutive waves. Even stranger, though, is the feeling that I dreamed the earthquake into reality. On Wednesday night as I worked my way into sleep, I tried pondering the notion of money piling up in my bank account, but so far nothing’s happened.

OJALÁ

Well, I've had a case of the bed bugs this week. After three fitful, itchy nights of sleep, my host family took my mattress outside to get some sun, and last night I slept like a baby. I didn't even lie awake pondering what I should do next.

I think I might have settled on a plan. But maybe not; you know me; I like to try my ideas on and wear them around awhile to see how they feel. So far, I've tried on Chile, South Korea and the United States, and none seem to fit just right. Now I'm mulling over Potrero Grande.

The director of my volunteer organization came for a visit on Wednesday. As we sat in my living room, she casually mentioned how bummed she was that she would have to cut four school from the program next year. To make a long story short, Potrero Grande might be one of those schools. It's too big, she says, and the water's bad. It's time they get a paid Costa Rican teacher. I think she's right. The school is too big, and they do need a full-time paid English teacher, but it's not going to happen for next year. Or it might not happen ever. The school's director is rather aloof when it comes to English.

And I'll be damned if I worked my butt off all year just to have the English program fizzle out. No sir. So I threatened that I just might stay and volunteer another year. That led to some negotiations with the WT director, who thinks she might be able to drum up a few more dollars for me. She says my school requires more work than any other school, going beyond the requirements of the volunteer contract. I'd still be short about a $1,000 for the year on living expenses, but if I could win the lottery or teach a few adult classes in the afternoons or on weekends, it just might work out. Oh, and I'd have to buy a new plane ticket.

If I did return next year, I'd move into a cabina, the closest thing my town has to an apartment. It's basically a hotel room with a kitchen sink, but it would be better than living in the house with my host family. They are great and all, but I just can't take another year of American rap blasting at all hours of the night and day. I don't like rap. Luckily my family owns the cabinas and would probably give me a good rate. And I could still eat a few meals with the family every week.

In January I would be able to help out with the new-volunteer orientation. I could take more Spanish lessons and meet the new batch of teachers, the people who would hopefully become my new friends. And just think about how much English my students would learn next year. Even in the two weeks since I completed the TEFL course, they've learned so much. With another whole year, the teaching opportunities would be endless.

Yes, I like the way this idea feels. I hope it works out.

Woo pig

One of my favorite things to do in Costa Rica is laugh at people’s T-shirts. There are thrift stores here full of used clothing from the United States. Kids, especially in rural areas like mine, are always wearing some gringo’s leftover clothes. One kid in my town has a Cub Scout shirt, patches and all. Adults also wear the used clothing, especially men who work in the fields, so I’ve accumulated quite a collection of funny sayings found on T-shirts and hats. Usually the sayings aren’t funny on their own, only on the body of someone who has absolutely no idea what the words on the shirt mean. Here are my favorites:

1. Embroidered on the chest of a polo shirt: TRAILER PARK EXTREME POLO TEAM

2. On a bright orange T-shirt, in big letters: Hey man, you got a hemi in that thing? OK, this one's just funny on it's own.

3. On a T-shirt, written beneath a row of fighter jets: Can Osama come out and play? Keep in mind Costa Rica doesn't have an army.

4. On the hat of a very elderly man: Class of 2006

5. On the hat of teenager: I don’t have a drinking problem; my wife does.

6. On the T-shirt of the most popular boy in school: Treble Makers Choir Club

7. On the shirt of one of the most conservative, frumpy, sews-her-own-clothes mothers in my town: Heart Breaker Forever

8. On the T-shirt of a man on my bus: Rachel Tamaroff’s Bat Bitsmah

9. On the shirt of a middle-aged woman in line at the pharmacy, paired with a nice suit skirt and brown flats: Gold Digger

10. And my personal favorite:

Happy Birthday, Andreyna

Up next

If I weren’t so far away, we would do this face to face, maybe over dinner or on a long walk. But I’m here, and you’re there, so we’ll just have to do it this way. I am trying to figure out what to do next year. The thing is I am really, really ready to be home. I can hardly wait to see my family and sleep in my huge bed and eat a big, fat cheeseburger. I want to ride my bike and flush my toilet paper and talk to my grandmothers and hold my nephew and niece and catch up with my best friends. But those things should only take a month or so, so what do I do next?

Here are my options.

I could go to graduate school to become a certified ESL teacher in the United States. This would be great for my future. I’d always have a job, and it would be one that doesn’t require plane tickets, visa processing and learning new languages, etc. However, it would be expensive. And boring.

I could return to Costa Rica to teach English another year. I could stay in Potrero Grande another year, but that would mean volunteering again, which, by definition, doesn’t pay much. Or I could find a job teaching in another school, possibly a private school or language institute. However, most teaching jobs for English speakers are in the capital city of San Jose, and I hate San Jose. I’d love to find a job teaching in a school in the southern part of the country where I am now. I know the area and have strong contacts here. Living in Costa Rica another year would also let me learn more Spanish and spend more time at the beach. This is an expensive option but not a boring one.

I could move to a different Spanish-speaking country, maybe Chile or Argentina. But it’s difficult to find teaching jobs in South America without going there to look for them. I’d be able to learn more Spanish, though, and probably a better form of Spanish than the backwoods dialect I am picking up here. Also, I’d get to experience a new culture and know more of the world. Again, expensive but not boring.

I could move to Asia, maybe South Korea or Taiwan or Vietnam. This is where the money is. If I were to get a job in, let’s say, South Korea, my employer would buy my plane ticket, pay my rent, contribute money to a 401(k) equivalent and offer a great salary. But I would be living in Asia and wouldn’t be learning more Spanish. While it wouldn’t be boring, I don’t think it would be especially fun. Still, I could save a lot of cash and return after a year, and if the desire persists, I would have the money to travel to a more enticing place or pay for graduate school.

So you see my dilemma. Really my favorite option is to return to Costa Rica to teach another year. If I were writing the script, I would get a job at the new bilingual private school in Uvita and make enough money to fly home for a visit during the year. Unfortunately I’m not writing this script, so it seems I’ll either be living in Saigon or with my parents. Which is worse, do you think?