Being dropped off was like the first day of Kindergarten, except we were college kids in a foreign country! It felt odd at first. Not because we were placed in the homes of complete strangers in a foreign country, but because by this point, we had already done a lot throughout the day and the week as a whole team that it felt weird to split up and experience similar, yet different situations.
Our Costa Rica trip came to a close only recently, but those ten days feel so close and so far away at the same time. I can vividly remember everything, but still feel the need to refer back to my journal to remind myself of how I felt at those exact moments. Continue reading “Homestay Away from Home”
It took several attempts to remember that when referring to Costa Ricans it is properly said “Costarricenses” not “Costarriquenos”. This became a problem when I found myself being corrected by the locals, constantly. Luckily they were not offended, rather they were understanding and extremely friendly; such characteristics seemed to be quite common among Costarricenses.
Of all the Costarricenses that I met I found the youth, in particular, very intriguing because their thought process about education and life was more enlightening than I would have ever expected. Going into the Global Sustainability & Cultural Immersion, Costa Rica Program I knew that I wanted to speak to the youth because the youth has a tendency to speaking the truth, or rather they are more honest and straightforward about their opinions on certain criteria like education and overall happiness. That being said, the entire trip was extremely rewarding but the visit we paid to the schools of Mastatal was by far the most informative and eye-opening experience of the program. Continue reading ““Costarricenses” not “Costarriquenos””
As I walk down the plane aisle looking for my seat, I become aware of the low murmurs of Spanish conversation around me. Attendants greet me in Spanish as I pass by. I start to feel the slight beginnings of apprehension. This isn’t like Spanish class! People talk faster than I’m used to and from where I’m standing, I can’t hear one sliver of English dialogue at all.
It’s not until the attendants give flight safety instructions that I hear English again and it’s only a translation of the Spanish announcements. During the plane ride to San Jose, Costa Rica, it slowly begins to sink in that we’ll be immersed in Spanish for the next week and a half. It’ll be my first time in an environment like this for a prolonged period of time.
During my stay in Costa Rica, I spent two nights with a local host in the small rural community of Mastatal. The home, like many others in the community, was constructed in familiar fashion: floor, external walls, internal walls and roof were all accounted for. Notably, however, there was no ceiling; that is, there was substantial space between the top of the internal walls and the roof above.
This seemed of little consequence until I found myself familiarized with the bowel movements of our host: Lus Milda.
And her daughter. And her son-in-law. Not to mention the construction worker, the elementary school teacher, the high school teacher and the assistant principal of the regional school board, and of course, the two other program participants who were all sharing in Lus Milda’s hospitality. Having the bed positioned immediately adjacent to the bathroom I would hear everything (and more!) that is to be expected from a diet of rice and beans. Subsequently, when it came time for me to make a deposit, I was very aware of the fact that I had an unwilling audience. Privacy, then, was compromised.