So I have been living in Costa Rica for three weeks and working at Casa Maria for two weeks now. I can't believe how much my Spanish has improved. Sometimes long-winded explanations and conversations lose me completely, but I look back to where I was on day one of work and I'm amazed at my progress. Practice really does make perfect. By practice, I mean being put in front of a class on the first day and instructed to talk the whole period. In Spanish. It was forty minutes worth of badly-conjugated verbs and blank stares. But the teacher says I've gotten so much better since day one, and the girls tell me I have too. Hay esperanza para mi!
The first day of work:
Even with better Spanish, I expect to have many more FML moments. Like the other day: While working at the daycare with Jelly, a sad little four-year-old girl comes up to me and asks me, lip trembling, if her mother is coming to get her ("Viene mi mama?") What did I say? Smiling cheerfully, and also without thinking about the actual phrase I was using, I answer sincerely, "Espero que si!" (I hope so!) I got a dirty look, followed by a sniffle. Way to go, Britt. Way to go.
Another one: Yesterday, I asked two of the students at Casa Maria if they had change for a bigger bill that I had; I needed change for the bus. They said no, they didn't have any change, but you could exchange religious tokens for a bus ride. "Wow!" I say. "Like what kind of religious tokens?"
"Oh, all kinds. We don't know."
"Ok, well, where could I get some?"
"In that store over there." They point to the little shop next to the front desk of Casa Maria.
I am still very interested, so I keep asking questions, thinking to myself, 'this is crazy! Who knew you could ever barter for a bus ride like that?' This country must be more Catholic than I thought. But over the next minute or so, they start looking very confused. So am I. I back up the conversation a little, then a lot, then I realize that we are not on the same page as all. You cannot actually exchange a pocket cross for a ride. They were just telling me that I could exchange my 2000 bill (at the little shop over there that sold religious tokens) for change for the bus. I guess you had to be there, but it was pretty hilarious. I think the girls are still confused by that conversation.
Anyways, I've definitely settled into more of a routine at Casa Maria. I will be leading four English conversation classes a week, and sitting in on the English grammar classes and helping out whenever needed. In my last blog, I had said that the biggest challenge would be trying to be an authority figure as well as a friend to the girls. Now, I know that won't be a problem. The girls are great. My biggest challenge is to adapt to -- and have patience with -- the school system. It's run very differently than any American school I've ever encountered -- it's not super punctual, lessons are relaxed, and there doesn't seem to be any learning benchmarks or lesson plans. Also, students talk on their cell phones during class. The teachers ignore it and talk over them.
But there are great things about it, too. Like the 20 minute break at 10am every day when the teachers all head into the lounge to drink coffee and chat. Someone always brings a pastry or a loaf of fresh bread and shares with everyone. I look forward to that during the school day. And when I'm not observing or teaching in an English class, I get office work to do. It's actually really interesting. Even if I'm just reporting all absences for the past two months or sorting out which students haven't paid tuition yet for the month (two U.S. dollars per month for private education, room, and board), I get to learn all the students' names and which classes they're in.
The students' names are really interesting. In Costa Rica (and all Latin America, I think), a person has a first name, middle name, father's last name, then mother's last name. For example, my official legal name would be Brittany Lee Buckner Adams, or on a transcript, Buckner Adams Brittany Lee (sans comma). Some girls have double last names, like Sanchez Sanchez. Also, it's amazing how many girls have the name Maria. A lot just use their second name because there are so many named Maria. Some have awesome first names, like Mary of the Sea or Mary of the Rosary (Maria del Rosario). And one name that a ton of people have is Jocelyn, and you wouldn't believe how many ways a person can spell Jocelyn (Josseling, Yoselin, etc.). For names, J's and Y's make the same sound here, so I think a lot of them get their names misspelled, even on official transcripts. The copy editor in me cringes.
Anyway, life here is great. The food is fantastic and the weather is perfect (not too hot, not too cool). I have discovered the secret to wonderful, scalding hot showers. I have not yet discovered the secret to frying plantains... : / I can say the rosary in Spanish and I don't have to throw my weight against the front door to get in the house anymore!! I have come a long way.
And everyone here is so hospitable -- the friars have us over for a great lunch after most Sunday masses, and the director in charge of the St. Francis School, Yami, invited us over to her house last weekend for a huge breakfast with her family (here, family includes every person you've ever been distantly related to). It was so nice. Everyone is so generous and welcoming and I am so grateful and humbled by it.
I think I can speak for all of us when I say that the five of us are doing well! We get along great. We have been keeping up on housekeeping for the most part, and everyone really sticks to The List of whose turn it is to do what, whether it is cooking dinner, dishwashing, prayer, etc. Serious business. Thankfully, we are becoming more accustomed to the language and the general way of life here, and getting to know the area. So tonight, instead of walking around awkwardly to Moravia bars and ending up in one with only three old men in it, we hope to venture out a little more this weekend. Salsa dancing lessons are a priority -- maybe tonight, who knows?
P.S: Dear Overenthusiastic Rooster Outside My Window: Keep it up, gallo. Keep. It. Up.
