Saying Goodbye

I was able to meet up with some of our good friends from Grecia on Friday and Saturday. We went to the Jazz Café (really awesome!) and then visited a museum on Saturday.

It was so hard to say goodbye and walk away. If I could have, I would have enrolled for a year at the University of Costa Rica; this "meet-people-and-leave-them" business is taking its toll, especially with people that I could definitely consider being good friends with (P.S. When you read this, you'll know who you are!). I returned to the house in San José, and after having some soup, I claimed I was tired, went to bed around 5:30 p.m. and cried. I haven't cried like that since I came to this country, but I felt my heart breaking. Doña Isabel came into my room and told me that some friends from the youth group here in San José wanted to come and pray for me. I told her it was alright. I cried during that session too.

What is Love? The force single-handedly responsible for such close ties among strangers; for such connection. I love communication. I study communication. In my short time, I declare it is Love that causes and aids any sort of communication in this regard to studies. Love of culture; Love of difference; Love of people. Truth be told, I'm attached. I would love to live in Costa Rica. My host brother Esteban keeps telling me not to leave, because he'll miss how I laugh. Everyone else in my family tells me the house will be depressingly quiet because I won't be around to liven it up. Talk about guilt trips!

I tried packing today. Also one of the most depressing things I've done here besides cry. I actually searched the premises to find my possessions--I didn't realize I spread so much. I'm running out of space, and I'm considering leaving the family with something of mine, except that I'm such a light packer, everything I own (more or less) is something I need and use, and anything else isn't enough of me that I could leave it for sentimental value. Bother practicality!

We leave in the morning.

Please, pray not only for me and the group as we travel to Panama, but for the friends and families we're leaving behind us to do so. I won't be writing for the next week, so I wish everyone a happy week, and I thank you, Dear Readers, for reading.

Looks like this post is long enough.

Grecia, Costa Rica: Part III

Okay, first off, so sorry that this is late in coming. Last week, I came to the internet café and discovered my email inbox was full with 36-some messages, at least 10 of which were sent by the Postmaster warning me that my inbox was full. Oh life.
Second, I just discovered this, but Blogger has a email inbox for me too: elise.arvidson.thought-isms@blogger.com . Cool. Please, for the remainder of the trip, if there are any questions, thoughts, comments or anything even remotely resembling feedback to my blog, please use the above address so that my school inbox isn't clogged all the time...not that I've gotten much feedback...
Third, I made it back from Grecia, and am in San José (also called San Ho by some in our group), and am going to be near a computer UNTIL MONDAY!!! Just so's you know.

Now, table of contents:
· Northamerican--Latinamerican relations and their strains
· 5 things I have learned about me
· 5 things I have learned about others

We're good.

RELATIONS:
One thing to remember in another country is that actions speak louder than words, whether the message sent was intended or not. Some of the "strain" of Northamerican and Latinamerican relations stems from both a disregard of the above, and limited mindset of the other culture/person/etc. Hispanic culture is very indirect, as I've mentioned previously. The meanings, the direction and the commands are all understood, but not necessarily expressed. Because Northamerican culture is rather more direct, often, a foreigner can seem rude, unsympathetic, and completely oblivious to social codes and implications. This, obviously, causes much stress on both ends unless each side is willing to be flexible and forgive. As a foreigner in this country, it would be my mortal embarrassment to offend my host family in any way, as they've offered me a home, food, and anything else I need. Therefore, although I have a direct manner in asking for something I would like (for example: going with some friends to a concert and spending the night over there since it will be late) I need to ask it as though it all depended on my host parents. I need to ask their permission even though I am of age, and everyone with me is a responsable adult like me. The way I ask is indirect. If I were to say "I am going with so-and-so and so-and-so to this-and-such a concert on Friday, and I will be spending the night," my host parents will likely feel as though I am taking advantage of their good grace to do whatever I please. They may also feel that by expressing this, I am hinting that I prefer the company of my friends I've known for a little while over the company of the family that is housing me. Does this make sense? A much pleasanter way to say the same thing is "Some of my friends and I wanted to go to this concert, but it will be too late to come home. We might be able to spend the night there, but what would you suggest?" This opens it up for the family heads to give an opinion and not feel as though I am taking advantage of them. Also, I am letting them know that I would like to be with friends, but respect the decision of their family. "Strain" is only the result of not trying to appease the other but stubbornly sticking to one's own ways.
Which leads me to continue...

5 THINGS I HAVE LEARNED ABOUT ME:
1. Patience is both my greatest strength and my biggest fault
2. I am a contextual learner. If I come across a word I don't understand, I listen to the context to get the bigger picture, and define words by their connotations in which I hear them used. This is why I've been having a mental block with grammar lessons, because each word is crucial.
3. I am very forgetful of little things, even when I try so hard to remember, but able to memorize passages of readings solely because I found them interesting.
4. I become angry when communicational flow stops, i.e. when conversation turns into monologue, or when discussion becomes argument.
5. I can look at the mammals/insects/reptiles, I can smell the mammals/insects/reptiles, I can get close to the mammals/insects/reptiles, but if they jump on me in any way, I cannot stand it.

5 THINGS I HAVE LEARNED ABOUT OTHERS:
1. Laughter is indeed the best medicine
2. Love is eating yucca casserole (even though you despise it) solely because your host mom made it just for you when you came home. Profound love is having two pieces.
3. Natives will often "use" a foreigner for "language practice", even though they know less of the foreigner's language than the foreigner knows of theirs.
4. Host families are like flowers: sunny smiles, showers of compliments, and fertil trust make the relationship grow.
5. Everyone has a limited point of view, because everyone has had a limited life. Therefore, foreigners will often be judged based on this view. Flexibility in all things is key.
BONUS
6. As a foreigner, natives either assume that the foreigner knows absolutely nothing about the native's culture, or that the foreigner is well versed in the lives, events and other random details of everyone in the foreigner's home country. We keep having to explain that the United States is much bigger than Costa Rica, and that it is impossible to know the lives of everyone else in the States...

Well, this post's long enough. I will try to upload my pictures tomorrow!
Have a wonderful evening!

Grecia, Costa Rica: Part II

Hello again! I hope this finds everyone well and happy!

I have more -itos in the interest of time:

QUESTIONS:
It seems that Spanish-speakers must learn different nonverbal cues than English-speakers. One of my main ires is that I'm constantly unsure when I've been asked a question. I am actually listening to the sound of the speakers voice, and waiting for it to go up at the end to signal a question. No such thing. Or at least, not all the time. And when I ask if the speaker was directing their speech at me, the speaker will take the question as though I either didn't pay attention, or I did not understand a word. They will often repeat the "question" exactly how they did before, without the tell-tale nonverbal cue. Again, I ask if this statement they've made is a question. And yet again, they will try to explain it to me. The joke is this, I understand perfectly the words they have chosen to express themselves. What I don't get is what they are expecting as a result of these words!! Oh well.

FINISHED SENTENCES:
Also, along those lines, it appears that people who live within the same regional group and see each other for most of their lives don't finish certain sentences. Not all, but many. And yet, everyone born in the same region understands perfectly these partial thoughts. It helps to keep in mind that Spanish is a high-context language, where few words are needed to effectively get a point across. However, because I am a contextual learner, I need the context to understand.

PREPARED ANSWERS:
I find it easier to speak in Spanish about something with which I am very familiar versus improvisational speaking. This is very natural for learned speakers.

SAYINGS:
One of the sayings most used that I've heard in Grecia is "¡Que espanto!" which literally means, "What a scare!" It is used like the expression, "Oh for Pete's sake!"

GRAMMAR:
Also in Grecia, I've noticed that most of the people use the verb acordar as a synonym for the verb recordar. This is unusual to me because I'm used to acordar having a connotation of putting one's mind on something, and recordar having the connotation of only remembering.

OVENS:
The kitchen's hidden cookie jar (when not in use).

GAS STATIONS:
There are service gas stations here, meaning, there is no such concept as "self-serve".

SUGARCANE:
Sugarcane here grows in fields like corn grows in Indiana. And the smell of the molasses when the cane is burned in the graneries is overpowering--it smells good in small amounts, but not all at once.

DOORKNOBS:
The only doorknobs I've seen in this country are generally on the front door. All other doors have locks that slide.

I'm out of time!! Next time I'll expound on Northamerican/Latinamerican relationships here in Grecia. We have some stories to tell...

Have a wonderful day!!

Grecia, Costa Rica: Part I

Well, since I wasn't able to write about Nicaragua entirely before coming to Grecia, sorry, but I'm going to save that for later--remind me!!!

One thing I'm going to say about Grecia is this: foliage. Holy cow, I didn't know there were that many different plants in the world, let alone one province of a country...

BUSES:
In San José, all the buses have only two columns of seats going from the front of the bus to the back. There are two seats in each row with an aisle down the middle (except for the very back of the bus where there are five or six seats along that far wall). Here in Grecia, it seems that every bus I've ridden has two columns of seats, but with three seats per row on the left side of the bus. And golly, does it get crowded.

KETCHUP:
It's amazing the number of food possibilities that open up to you when you stop using ketchup as only a condiment and start using it as a sauce... It's not that bad either.

SALAD:
Here, there seem to be two different types of salad, just like in San José. One is the salad that most northamericans are used to, the kind with lettuce. In Costa Rica, the Ticos shred raw cabbage. It gives the salad a little extra kick. Especially when topped with mayonaise and ketchup.

I would like to explain what I'm doing here in Grecia for those of you who don't know: I am working at a local business doing whatever jobs they have for me to better practice speaking. I am actually working in a private school's bio lab testing samples of soil from all over the world, and sending them back. My first day, the gentleman in charge of my work didn't arrive for a long time, so I cleaned everything. Not so hard. I have classes Tuesdays and Wednesdays at the church, but work Mon, Thurs, and Fri.
My host mom is so nice! She practically begs me to eat, so I oblige...

I'll have to write more later--I'm in an internet café and can only afford an hour at a time...
I miss you all!

Nicaragua: Part III

So, more -itos:

GRAFFITTI:
Amazingly enough, it's in Managua too!!! And also amazing, it isn't just graffitti, it's propaganda. Everything from the youth comments in red, black, or whatever color, to the pink and yellow posters of Daniel Ortega's face, with slogans like "With God, we can overcome" and "You see, Sandino? We've made it this far!" While I don't oppose a personal faith, many Nicas think that Ortega is only using God to get a leg-up. Apparently, his beliefs weren't so prevalent the first time he ran for the presidency. But no joke, the propaganda is everywhere. The posters were starting to remind me of George Orwell's 1984 and "Big Brother". It was creepy.

ABORTION:
Illegal in this country too, but unlike Costa Rica, there are no provisions for rape or in cases where the mother's or baby's life is at stake. Critics say Ortega implemented this new law to get more support from the Catholic Church.

MURALS:
None that I saw, except for a Catholic church we visited. The shape of the church was circular, and in the 80s the church leaders wanted to express the history of Nicaragua through a faith perspective, so they had two artists paint a mural on every panel of the circular walls. Fascinating stuff.

After staying in the Centro Nehemias until Wed. 4 March, our group was splitting up to go on the home stay trips. I was with a group leaving at 4 a.m. for one of the most remote parts of the Nicaraguan campo where we would most likely be cut off from all modernization. I'm not exactly sure how I was arranged in that group; I remember saying I would rather a town, or something in between the two... Either way, I made sure my things were packed. I must clarify: the entire LASP population of 47-some students was split into "town" or "campo" home stays. Among those, we were 12 smaller groups, based on the proximity of the families with whom we were living. For example, I was in group #1 with three other students whose families lived near mine and went to the same church.
I woke up at the right time, took my shower, ate breakfast, and left with the group to go to the bus station. I started to feel nauseous on the school bus though, which is weird for me because I usually only get motion-sickness during the day. As soon as we got to the bus yard, and I got off of the bus, I felt instantly fine, which is also weird. We crossed the yard, and no sooner had I put my foot on the bottom step of the bus taking us to the campo, I felt oddly sick again. I thought it would go away, so I climbed up slowely with the other students who were busy finding their seats. I got half-way down the aisle, when I realized that I wasn't going to make it. I was somehow able to communicate this to one of our teachers who was standing right next to me, and she ushered me off the bus through the back door, where I promptly lost my breakfast next to a small palm tree. The teachers were going to send me back, but I didn't want cop out, so I insisted I was fine. I re-boarded, but all the seats were taken except for the front. I sat there while we waited for the bus to leave (it was still boarding passengers). That's when I started feeling jabs of pain inside of me. They would come and go, and although I really wanted to go on the trip, the mounting sharpness scared me: I did not want to be infected with some sort of bacteria and not know about it! I admitted defeat. My teachers took me off the bus and called another to come pick me up at the bus yard so I could go with the last group of students leaving for the "town". Once off, I felt instantly better again, although that feeling was quickly replaced with shame and terror. Shame because it made me think I could have made it, and I was unwilling to try, and terror because I would be sitting in the public waiting area before dawn while everyone I knew left me behind them.

It turned out all right though, but this is where I stop (it's like a chapter book, isn't it?) because this post is long enough : )

Nicaragua: Part II

So, we were discussing politics.

This is Nicaragua's flag:

It was adopted in 1971, according to this website. With the creation of the FSLN (Frente Sandinista Liberación Nacional), Nicaragua underwent a major civil war. The Sandinista Front needed a banner under which to march:

or

The group was started by Carlos Fonseca against the Somoza dictatorships. Like I said, there was a war. When the FSLN's candidate Daniel Ortega won the presidency in 1984, it was declared a victory of the Revolution. After Daniel Ortega's first term, he ended up losing 3 consecutive times. It was after the third, legend has it, that Ortega actually asked a Northamerican interior designer what was wrong with his approach to politics that he wasn't winning. The designer thought it was the colors of the FSLN flag Ortega sported on his platform--the colors were too bold. With that, Ortega changed the "official" colors to a baby pink and Easter yellow. They can be seen on all propaganda signs throughout the city. (Please visit this site for more Nicaraguan political flags).

______________________________________________________

UPDATE: There is also a theory about Ortega's wife, Rosario Murillo, being the cause for the change. Murillo is well known for her jumbled theology that mixes the teachings of Indian Guru Sai Baba, the teachings of Jesus Christ, Gen. Sandino's personal philosophy, and some native indigenous beliefs. According to the theory, she suggested the change to pastels because they channel positive energy.

_______________________________________________________

After Ortega won the presidency again in 2006, a small group of Sandinistas broke off of the main group. They call themselves the Movimiento Renovación Sandinista (MRS), or the Sandinista Renovation Movement. Their new colors are orange and black, but I couldn't find a picture on the web...

Led by Dora María Tellez, who fought as a guerrilla in the FSLN, the party protests Ortega's presidency, saying it is becoming a dictatorship.

This post is long enough! Next up: more -itos!