I haven't blogged in quite a while and have a lot to catch up on! I'll try to detail my first weeks of teaching at Iglesia Misionera Fuente de Restauración.
Monday, February 9
I had planned to go walking with Daisy, Ana's oldest daughter, but I never heard the alarm. I woke up at 6:45 and David was planning to pick me up at 7:30, so I texted Daisy apologizing and got ready just in time to leave, running out the door with a coffee mug in one hand and a bowl of eggs and gallo pinto in the other. Even thought classes started at 1, I left early with them so David and I could drive to Liberia, the biggest town nearby, to make photo copies of the book and workbook for the first week of classes. I squeezed in the back seat in between Adrian, David and Raquel's son, and the church cleaning lady. Before we left the house I tried the coffee and promptly jumped out of the car and spit it onto the street. I had stirred salt into my coffee instead of sugar! Thankfully I hadn't swallowed any, and I poured the rest of it out before jumping back into the car.
We dropped the cleaning lady off near the church and drove Raquel out past Playa Coco to the hotel where she works. Every time we slowed down to go over a speedbump, David's car turned off and he had to start it again. I started to worry and imagined us getting stuck along the road and never making it to Liberia, but tried to push the concerns to the back of my mind. We drove back to Comunidad, to pick up the text books from the church, and as we were turning the corner onto the street where the church is, the car stalled again, in the ditch in front of the street. David jumped out and I took the drivers seat, gingerly. I had never driven a stick shift, and especially not in a foreign country, but David said "there's a first time for everything" and "Whitney, do you know how to pray? This would be the time to do so." So I prayed as I got into the driver seat and David explained that I had to hold down the clutch and then press the gas once the car got moving, hoping to get it started again.
He began pushing the car out of the ditch, towards the main road, and letting it roll back towards him to gain momentum. Another man noticed we were in trouble, so he came and pushed the car as well. With his help we got the car out of the ditch and I steered it into a parking lot nearby. Another man and woman ran up and helped David push it across the street, between the oncoming trucks that passed, and we parked it in the neighborhood soda, a traditional tico restaurant owned by one of the church leaders, Lourdes. I sat there at the soda with Lourdes and David, as they discussed church finances, but I was feeling anxious about getting the copies done, so I really couldn't participate in the conversation. We left after what felt like an eternity, leaving Lourdes with the car keys to give the mechanic whenever he showed up, and walked across the main road and down the street to the church.
We made the copies in a tiny neighborhood shop down the street since at that point it was 10am and we didn't have time to take a bus to Liberia. I handed page after page to the shop owner and David was by how many copies I had to make for just one week. It was probably 10 pages per student, multiplied by 40 since that's how many students we had signed up for classes. We also bought markers for the whiteboard, folders and paperclips. When we were almost done making the last few copies, I got a call from Doña Ana saying that a pastor from a neighboring church, Guido, was a their house looking for me. I had expected him to meet me at the church in Comunidad, but apparently he didn't get that memo. I told her to send him our way, and by the time David and I walked back to the church, Guido was there waiting for us. We greeted each other and I have him a gift from Trellise, the former missionary who sent me here, and we took pictures to send to her. I was relieved to get that gift off my hands since I had been trying to contact Guido for the past few days and he hadn't gotten back to me.
When we arrived at the church, Leopoldo, a church employee, was just finishing painting the classroom, to my chagrin. And after the painting was done David decided it would be best to replace the picnic table with small round tables and plastic chairs. So I cleaned the chairs while the guys tried to remove the table from the room, and everything finished up around the time classes were starting. We ordered lunch to-go, but my stomach wasn't feeling quite right, and I really didn't have time to do so, as the students were arriving and it was already 1 o'clock. I took my box to the classroom, thinking I might squeeze in a few bites, and started the first class. As the students arrived I handed them printouts and greeted them in Spanish.
We practiced the alphabet and numbers and I helped them with pronunciation, and the class went really well, but I was feeling worse by the minute. I called a break at around 2:00 and still didn't feel better, so I let David know. I decided to try to finish the class, and maybe let them out at 3:00 instead of 4:00. After a few minutes back in class I felt a sudden wave of nausea, told my students I'd be back and promptly threw up on the concrete in the corridor between the school building and the sanctuary. After washing up I felt much better, but very weak, and decided to finish the class. My students were worried about me, but they stuck around, and successfully finished the material for the day. During that class Ana called and said their car had broken down too and that they needed a ride or wanted to take a taxi with David and I, but I told her I couldn't help since I was still teaching the rest of the class. They ended up getting a taxi back.
After that class, David and I took a taxi back home and I showered and rested for a few minutes before leaving again for the 6-9pm class. I wanted to do nothing but sleep, but I knew it was crucial for me to show up for the class since it was the first day, so I crawled out of bed and took some vegetable broth with me that Daisy had made. As we rode to church I didn't talk much or smile because I just didn't have the will or the energy.
I told my second class that I wasn't feeling well and that I'd be sitting down a lot more than normal, and not talking very loud. They were sympathetic and didn't wear me out too much. By the end of that class I was feeling exhausted but much more alive, and able to talk and smile with a little less effort. By the time class was over, the mechanic had fixed David's car and he drove us back to Palmira. Doña Ana made me some rice and beans and I ate a little bit, and drank some water. That night I collapsed in bed.
Tuesday, February 10
I can't remember if I walked on Tuesday or not, but probably not, since I was still feeling really week from being sick the day before. I ate minimally that day, and drank a fiber drink and an oatmeal "fresco" that Ana made me. David picked me up around noon and I taught the 1-4 class with just one 10 minute break and no problems! I was relieved to have finished the first group's first week of classes, and felt fairly confident about having taught them clearly. The students were very enthusiastic and responsive.
Between classes, David and I walked to a nearby mini supermarket and I picked out a blueberry greek yogurt for "dinner." That yogurt tasted so soothing and comforting after being served large plates of rice and beans for the past week and never being able to finish what was offered to me. It was relieving to eat a small amount and not feel full, especially because I wanted to ease my stomach back into normal meals.
The 6-9 class came and went successfully, with a coffee break in the middle. The students in this group are very talkative and energetic, so they tire me out, but also encourage me with their eager attitude towards learning.
Wednesday, February 11
My first day off! I know for sure that I walked with Heidy this morning, dropping off Marilys, Heidy's daughter, and "Ema" Emanuel, Wendy's son off at kindergarten on our way to the trail. Most parents arrived on foot or bicycle to drop off their children, which allows for clear streets in town and a lot more personal interaction between teachers and parents and parents of different families than we have in the States, where most parents drop their kids off at bus stop or drive them to school and leave them at the curb. Every day Heidy walks the kids into the building to their teacher, who kisses them on the cheek and says "Hola, mi amor" ("Hello, my love") or "Hello precious!" We turned right out of the school, following a road south towards Paso Tempisque. After passing a neighborhood memorial to a patron saint we turned left down a smaller dirt road, passing small well-kept houses and greeting each neighbor with "¿Cómo amaneció?" or "How did you wake up?" I found that phrase strange and bit intrusive at first and I thought, "Why is it our business to know how that person woke up and how their morning has been?" but since first hearing it I've gotten used to the phrase.
I was planning to go to the beach with Dinora, my friend Laura's mom, but she called me and said their car was not working, so Daisy and Heidy agreed to go to the beach with me instead and Don Modesto agreed to drive us there. We squeezed Shirley (Daisy's 21 year old daughter), MariLiz (Heidy's 6 yr old), Emanuel (Wendy, another sister's 6 yr old son), Luciana (Heidy's 2 1/2 year old), Heidy and I in the back seat of the sedan, and Don Modesto and Daisy sat in the front. Modesto took us to "Playa del Pastor" which is really called "Playa Panamá," but since it is his favorite that's what the family has named the beach. We spent the afternoon there and I enjoyed swimming with the little kids, taking them deeper than they could go alone, since none of them swim. I tried a "copo" for the first time, a typical Costarican beach snack that is like a snow cone, with powdered milk dusted over the top and a drizzle of sweetened condensed milk to top it off. The sweetness was a bit overwhelming, but it was good to try just once. I visited my friend Sylvia at the hotel spa where she is a manager, and the guard let me in under the pretense that I wanted a tour and an appointment. I think he let me in mostly because I'm "gringa" and looked like a potential customer.
Heidy and her daughter Luciana, the "brava"
MariLiz and Ema playing in the sand
Shirley, me and Heidy
We returned back to the house around 4, showered and I went to
culto that night at David's church with Ana and Heidy.
Culto is the word everyone uses here to refer to a church service. Both Modesto's church in Palmira and David's church in Comunidad hold three to four services a week. So many church services was at first a wonderful idea in my mind, but upon arriving I realized how much it would pack in my schedule to try to attend every
culto at both churches each week. After talking to Heidy and other family members I've mostly settled on attending Wednesday and Saturday evening in Comunidad and Sunday morning and evening in Palmira.
The services here are generally more enthusiastic, expressive and charismatic than the churches I've attended in the States for the past 10 years of my life. The services remind me of a mixture of the Vineyard, Assemblies of God and the Bridge en Español/Stonemill Church styles of musical worship, preaching and prayer. It has been a tough transition for me to get used to standing and sitting often, raising my hands and praying out loud. For now my tendency is to sit quietly and journal prayers while the rest of the congregation is loudly proclaiming their thanks and petitions to God. I am both challenged and encouraged by the fervent singing and eager prayers that I'm surrounded by in both of these churches, and it has lead me to do a lot of "soul searching" and self examining in regards to how I express faith.
After the service David told me he had decided to go to San José that night and that he'd be back by the next day at 2 to take me to the church. I was pretty surprised by that decision, but thought it would be fine since he'd be back in time. That night we returned home and I ate a late dinner with Ana and Modesto before going to sleep.
Thursday, February 12
I went on a walk/jog with Heidy and ate gallo pinto in Ana's father's kitchen. Each morning Ana wakes up early and bathes her ailing father, cleans his kitchen and porch, and feeds him (and now me as well, since I'm the "adopted" daughter). His house is behind the church building and in the same area as Heidy's house and Modesto and Ana's house. Ana's father abused her and her sisters when they were younger, and that caused her to run away from home at 14 and marry Modesto, who was 19 at the time. In their young adult years they became Christians and eventually became pastors. At some point along the way, Ana forgave her father and although their relationship is not completely normal, her ability to care for someone who used to be a source of danger to her is amazing. Her mother died last year and since then her father's health has been waning. He no longer walks and spends the days sitting in a chair outside on his porch, moaning from pain.
Since Ana cooks there every morning, I've started eating in that kitchen after walking and stretching with Heidy and/or Daisy. Sometimes I help by frying plantains or blending a smoothie. The rest of the day I learned how to do laundry in the semi-automatic washer and dryer, with the help of Daisy and Heidy, and hung my clothes to dry the rest of the way. I washed a lot of clothes, since it was the first time in more than a week of being there that I'd washed anything. No one signed up for the 1-4 slot on Thursdays and Fridays, so I have more free time than originally expected.
David didn't make it back in town in time to pick me up, so Raquel and I rode with Modesto to the house of a woman from the church, picked up the keys and barely made it into the building in time for class to start. Since we arrived and turned the air conditioning on at 6, the room was pretty steamy for the first hour of class. David arrived during my the first half of class and said they had run into a lot of traffic on the road back from San José, but that he and his mom had brought with them two puppies to keep as pets.
Friday, February 13
I walked with Heidy and Daisy that morning and spent the rest of the day trying to blog and trying to lesson plan, with little success. It's hard to focus in this dry, dusty heat, and I had about 20 bug bites that seemed to never stop itching. I'm pretty sure I just lazed around all day and might have taken a nap, until David picked me up to go to the school around 5:45.
After class, I walked home with one of my students, Bryan and he took me to a small group (celula) where Raquel had been, since David was preaching at a church in Playa Coco. Bryan happens to be my friend Laura's cousin, and his mom goes to the church in Comunidad, so I was excited to meet him and have that connection with Laura.
I locked up the church and walked just a block down the street to the celula. 10-15 church members were all standing in a circle along the walls of the main room of the house, and it was a very small room, so there was not much room to walk inside. Raquel was preaching but she said "Hola Whitney y Bryan" and someone close to the doorway offered me their seat. The meeting finished up soon after I arrived and then we ate something I can't remember the name of. The dish was a small, thin, crispy, round tortilla shell with lettuce, pico de gallo and shredded chicken on top, marinated in something citrusy. It turns out that the celula was not in Bryan's mom's house this time, but in one of my other student's houses. I was glad to see him and tried greeting him in English, which provoked an immediate ear to
After eating and chatting for a while, Raquel dropped me off at home and I went to bed after talking to Ana and Modesto for a while.
