QUEBRADAS!

5/16/09

Okay, where to begin. On Thursday morning Team Tarbaca boarded a 9 am bus to San Jose equipped with about half of the belongings we brought to Costa Rica, which we had to lug down crowded streets until we arrived at the Museum of National History, where all the Tico 19 volunteers were to meet our official counterparts who we will be working with for the next two years. One by one, everybody started pairing off and talking and laughing or standing awkwardly with their counterparts, until there was a small group of rejects left in the middle, forlorn and counterpartless, me being front and center. After waiting an hour, we had to give up on the no-shows and all boarded buses and headed to the retreat center in Tres Rios where we began our journey in Costa Rica, this time speaking slightly better Spanish and playing host to 50 Ticos from all over the coutry who we had never met and who did not know each other. Unfortunately, there is no work for awkward in Spanish. Even worse, as part of its budget cuts the US government decided it will no longer pay for employee meals, so the Peace Corps staff was not allowed to eat with us in the dining room, meaning pressure was on us to entertain. I ate lunch with the other rejects and then on my way to the bathroom saw a man with crazy eyebrows and a mustache who looked kind of lost, so I went over to help him and indeed, he turned out to be my counterpart, Luis. Luis works for the Costa Rican government as a planner in San Jose, so he was running late from a meeting. But we immediately hit it off and he told me the whole history of Quebradas, my site, and the organization that I will be working with, FUDEBIOL, which he helped found. He was thrilled to hear that I am both an economist and political scientist, which is apparently your title if you kind of studied these things at a liberal arts undergraduate institution, as well as a journalist. He had a million ideas for projects, many of which I had already been thinking of as well, such as starting a recycling program, a community newsletter, and helping FUDEBIOL with its marketing and organization to expand into eco-tourism. The big bummer is that Luis doesn’t live in Quebradas so he is only really there for the monthly Board of Directors meetings, which are the first Sunday of every month at 8:30 am…awesome. Anyways my counterpart day experience turned out to be a big success even though it was off to a rocky start, until…

Luis didn’t stay the night with the other counterparts who were accompanying their volunteers back to their sites, so I was on my own to get to Quebradas. Jake’s counterpart, a 21-year-old Columbian who will also be Jake’s host brother, offered to drop me off in San Isidro, the city 5km away from Quebradas, on their way to Sierpe in the south. This sounded like a fine idea since it meant I wouldn’t have to lug my suitcases on multiple buses or pay the allotted fare that Peace Corps gave us. So we made merrily on our way around 10 am and stopped in San Jose to pick up one of his friends, then we headed back to Tres Rios to visit some fellow Columbians. This seemed a little inefficient, but they were very welcoming and fed us delicious arepas, so no complaints. We finally got on the road around noon and took the Interamerican Highway all the way to Zona Sur, by was of Cerro de la Muerte (the mountain of death), about which we had already made many jokes. Once we had gotten through the worst part – apparently it got its name because there didn’t used to be a road and people tried to climb it to get to the south and froze to death – it started to rain, and Juan’s car skidded and hit a car coming the other direction. Gracias a Dios, no one was hurt, but there were some angry German tourists in the other car who spoke no Spanish and very little English, which made for a messy situation. Both cars were too messed up to drive, so a nice guy who saw the accident took the German man and Juan’s friend to the nearest pay phone (no cell service on the Mountain of Death) to call the police and the German’s rental car company. Well, apparently in Costa Rica, the transit police are different from the regular police who are different from the International Security Organization, and all any of them could do was issue reports and tell us they’d be there soon. Two hours later, I was wet and anxious because I had not gotten in touch with my new host family, so our new friend Christian drove me to the payphone and I called Jorge, the Executive Director of FUDEBIOL and only phone number I had, and explained the situation. Forty-five minutes later, he was there to rescue me, which was a solid start to what I hope will be a fruitful partnership…I only hope Jake and crew are no longer waiting next to their broken car.

We arrived in Quebradas at sunset, coming down a dirt road with a view of all of San Isidro, the main city in the district of Perez Zeledon. The city is in a fertile valley surrounded by fincas and coffee farms, and Quebradas is just north of the center. I was greeted by my new host mother, Sylvia, 10-year-old sister, Nazareth, and 13-year-old brother, Jose. I got a tour of the house and immediately questioned whether this was really the Peace Corps, because they live quite comfortably. I’m talking two tv’s, a computer, a lovely back patio with a hammock, about 20 chickens, 10 parrots, two dogs, a tortoise, and a grave for their hamster that once was. My room is in the back of the house and is all wood-paneled so feels like a little cabin, very cozy. Nazareth’s room is covered in Hannah Montana paraphernalia and Jose’s with WWF. From the moment I walked into the house, they were very welcoming and seem like a fun-loving family excited to have a new member. Douglas, my host father, got home from work about an hour later and we sat down to our first family dinner: beef with caramelized onions, rice, and, wait for it, banana casserole. I managed to take a few bites, but I have to admit the taste is really not growing on me. After an episode of Los Simpsons with my new siblings, it was time for bed.

Today was a great day. I got up and went for a run and was overcome by the beauty and tranquility of my future home. There is a river that runs through the town that you can here and sometimes see from the main road, and everywhere you look there are mountains dotted with plants and livestock. I ran past a tilapia farm, lots of mango and orange trees, and lots of other cool-looking vegetation. But 20 minutes into my run I arrived at the crossing of the big city. So it’s a great combination of getting to live in a small, beautiful town but having very close access to additional entertainment and resources. This month there is a big festival honoring the patron saint of San Isidro, so we went downtown to help set up a bazaar that raises money for their church. After lunch Jose took me on a bike ride to see more of the town, including the school, internet café, supermarket, and local bar, as well as some good spots to swim in the river. Then we had cafecito and arepas and were back in action on the soccer field majengeando (there is actually a verb here for playing pick-up games). I think I found my match in terms of hyperactivity, I am totally wiped out. BUT I met two other volunteers that are living in Quebradas until August from Spain and Portugal and they invited me to go out with them tonight, so the fun continues. I figure at this point, living in a new town where I know no one and sort of speak the language, it’s best to start out accepting every invitation that comes my way, within reason. I’ve only been in Quebradas for 26 hours and two years is a long time, but as of now I can say I think I will be very happy here.