Before I describe the wonder that was Tico Passover, I have an announcement to make. I just received my permanent site assignment: for the next two years, I am going to be living in the coastal town of Puntarenas. From what I´ve seen, Puntarenas is like Detroit on the water. It used to be the thriving port city of CR, but the port has since moved and what is left is the shadow of a former city. I will be living in a government housing project on the outskirts of town. I´m actually really excited about my assignment because I will have other volunteers near me, strong Tico counterparts, and access to the albergues (orphanages). I´ll let you know more about the site when I get there in a month.
***
Let me tell you, getting in with the Jews here was TOUGH. My training director said that she would secure the two other practicing Jews and me seats at the seder of the Synagogue here in San Jose. That meant names, photos, home synagogue references, telephone numbers and ID. I even had to bring my passport to the seder. However, once I passed through the high walls to get in, I could see why they were so protective. They have one of the most beatiful synagogues I have ever seen.
The first building containing administrative offices, a cafetreia and a museum has an atrium opening out onto a sprawling lawn perferated by stone paths. These paths span the length of a football field or so over the grass to the main building. Inside the great stone building is the sanctuary which is the size of Avery Fisher Hall. There, I had Havdallah and Mincha.
The funny thing about this Orthodox congregation was its similarity to my beloved Brotherhood Synagogue. People were social, outgoing, and more often than not...white. This community started before WWII; as pogroms and oppression spread, Jews from Eastern Europe moved here. Why? Because Costa Rica did not charge a twenty-five dollar fee like most other countries in this hemisphere. So the community grew and grew and the result was the fine three year old synagogue that I was standing in.
I made a lot of new friends. The President (or at least I think was the president) sat me down near the beamah with is friends Ariel and Rodolpho. We chatted for a long while about the Peace Corps and my work and after a bit I realized that I had been speaking Spanish when one of them asked me if I spoke Hebrew. "Of course he does, he studied in Israel" boasted the President. I asked him how he knew and he told me that he saw my student visa in my passport. So of course the three of them shot me questions in Hebrew, and I suddenly felt that the giant building of worship was the Tower of Babble. I did the best I could with the three languages and felt relieved when people came over and introduced themselves in English. I left the service with invitations to services, shabbat dinners and even a free crocadile tour by the director of a tour company.
After we put our sidurs away, I met up with my two female fellow volunteers (yes, we were separated), and we filed into the dining room for our seder. The seder was sponsored by two Chilean Rabbis from Aish Hatorah. The set up was beautiful, complete with specially made hard-bound hagadahs for the Synagogue. At the table with us was a fantastic family of Eastern European grandparents, a Tico-Israeli couple and their friendly children. FYI, Emile, one of them lived and studied in Pikesville, MD. The seder was interesting; not a single detail went unquestioned. And it was in Spanish (I got a kick out of seeing the word "pesach" spelled "Pesaj"). The seder took all night and I loved all of the differences. Here, the bitter herb is lettuce (weak sauce). The matzoh balls were almost inedible, and I think that I may have scared people by forcefully asserting that mine were far better. After the meal, we actually continued the sevice with an hour of song. The family at our table really got into it and I eventually found myself belting out the songs I knew. The entire table was rewarded with Kosher for Passover lollypops.
By the end of the night, I felt as if the family was part of my own, and told them so. They responded by giving the three of us kisses and a ride home.
I must admit that I was hesitant about going to the seder, as Passover is my favorite holiday; a holiday I associate heavily with family. But I am so glad that I found a Tico-Jewish home for myself, being so far away from the Jewish haven of NYC. Just being in a synagogue was comforting, as was hearing the familiar prayers that I have become used to repeating in the solitude of my room in the house of my Catholic host family.
I hope that all of my friends and family back home are having a Chag Sameach. And if you aren´t Jewish, I hope that you are enjoying everything American that I miss.
Dave
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Thursday, April 3, 2008
The Gira
I finally got to see some of the country over the past few days. From this past Saturday to Wednesday, we had our Gira (field trip). A lot happened, so I´ll break this entry up by day.
Saturday
After a bus ride of about 2.5 hours, my compañeros and I arrived in the large port town of Puntarenas. Waiting for us was a volunteer named Mary Ann. Mary Ann has been in country for over a year and a half, and I could tell from the second I got off of the bus that she is as sharp as they come. She lives in a part of town called El Roble. Her barrio is a government built housing project that is, to put it plainly, a ghetto. The barrio has dirt roads, and severe social problems. Nonetheless, I had a great experience.
After a brief tour of the barrio, I met my temporary host family (only two days), and we had lunch. They were incredibly warm and welcoming. They are a family of shark fisherman. All of the men (save the grandfather) were away at sea and had been for a month or so, and the family communicated back and forth via radio (¨Te Amo...OUT¨). The women of the house and their children spoke with me at length about Puntarenas and the social and economic problems they face. They were a well informed family.
After lunch, my group of five Trainees and Mary Ann and I went to her town´s albergue (orphanage). There, we met four other trainees, one other volunteer named Sarah, and some of the most impressive children I have ever met. The children were bright, enthusiastic, and extremely well behaved. We took the kids to the local soccer field and played for the rest of the afternoon.
Sunday
The next day, we spent the morning touring Sarah´s neighborhood which has as many issues as Mary Ann´s. After having a snack of fruit kebabs, the 11 of us went to the beach. It was the first time I had seen the Costa Rican coast; it was breathtaking. Puntarenas is set in the Nicoya Gulf, which is sheltered by the Nicoya Penninsula, so there are no waves. There was, however, a view of blue sea punctuated by the high, brown mountains of the Nicoya. After a quick dip, us Gringos boarded a ferry to the Nicoya Penninsula; we just had to see it up close. We stocked up on salty snacks and boarded the ship headed for Playa Naranja. The hour and a half trip was spent chatting, sunning, and eating.
Everything was going fine until I spotted another Gringo on the boat who -GASP- was wearing an Ohio State cap. I took extreme offense, and saw it as a challenge. I ducked below deck, abandoing my friends only to emerge with my Michigan shorts on. I walked around the deck like some animal performing a primal warring dance. We locked eyes, I lifted my fist and said ¨GO BLUE!¨ He averted my stare, which I took as a sign of defeat. If only our football games could be won like that.
To my surprise, I turned around only to find a man at another table wearing a shirt with a giant swastika on it. I was confused, I had stepped on the boat only minutes before, and found that two of my mortal enimies were on board. However, I didn´t let the scum of the earth bring me down. I took in the view, and enjoyed the ride with my friends. The thing that made me laugh was the fact that I was truly more offended by the man in the Ohio State hate. Yep, these are my priorities...
The time at Playa Naranjo was spent having dinner at a quaint hotel off the beaten path. While waiting for the food, we took a dip in their pool. The Ferry ride back to Puntarenas was muy tranquillo: we watched the sunset over the gulf, and relaxed. Despite the extreme heat and omnipresent smell of fish, Puntarenas was a good time.
Monday
After a visit to the PANI Office (US equivalent to Childrens Services), to meet the director, we boarded a bus to Herradura. Herradura is a small town just to the north of the surf paradise of Jaco. Upon our arival, we met our new host volunteer named Max. I knew that Max and I would be friends immediately; he went to Michigan. Indeed, we did become instant friends. He is a witty, laid back guy who has been in country for over a year and a half. That afternoon, we lunched and relaxed. Since I was to stay with Max because one of the host families bailed out at the last minute, I got to see a bit more of the PCV experience. That night, we spoke about the challenges and rewards of being a volunteer in Herradura. It was clear that he was proud of his work with the local school and community.
Tuesday
I woke up early and had my interview with Dan, Carolina and Scott: the people who are going to decide where my permanent site will be. We spoke about my experience and my preferences, so that they could better place me. It went well, and I left it hoping that they find a good fit for me.
The group then went to the local school and gave a fun presentation. We worked with a fourth grade class, teaching them fun facts about the US. They, in turn, taught us information about Costa Rica, and we had a CR vs US Jeopardy game.
We then took the bus into Jaco and met the head of the Officina de la Mujer: a womans group fighting to prevent domestic violence (among other things). Continuing down the road, we went to the local health clininc and met another community leader: a pshycologist who works with troubled youth (among other people). The leaders seemed firmly vested in their work and were quite inspirational. I hope that the counterparts in my site are as strong.
We then hit the beach. I rented a surfboard only to be thoroughly frightened by the 6-8 foot waves. After catching a few of the smaller ones, I joined my compañeros and we returned to Herradura for the night. We spent the night relaxing on Max´s porch talking about the incredible things we had seen. An excited fourth grade class, Officina de la Mujer, the clinic and 8 foot waves; I sure did see some incredible things.
The next day we had breakfast together and took the bus home. We were exhausted from the trip, but thoroughly empowered by what we had seen. It made the idea of moving in-site as a volunteer that much more tangible and exciting. I can only hope that my experience is as successful as Mary Ann, Sarah and Max´s.
Saturday
After a bus ride of about 2.5 hours, my compañeros and I arrived in the large port town of Puntarenas. Waiting for us was a volunteer named Mary Ann. Mary Ann has been in country for over a year and a half, and I could tell from the second I got off of the bus that she is as sharp as they come. She lives in a part of town called El Roble. Her barrio is a government built housing project that is, to put it plainly, a ghetto. The barrio has dirt roads, and severe social problems. Nonetheless, I had a great experience.
After a brief tour of the barrio, I met my temporary host family (only two days), and we had lunch. They were incredibly warm and welcoming. They are a family of shark fisherman. All of the men (save the grandfather) were away at sea and had been for a month or so, and the family communicated back and forth via radio (¨Te Amo...OUT¨). The women of the house and their children spoke with me at length about Puntarenas and the social and economic problems they face. They were a well informed family.
After lunch, my group of five Trainees and Mary Ann and I went to her town´s albergue (orphanage). There, we met four other trainees, one other volunteer named Sarah, and some of the most impressive children I have ever met. The children were bright, enthusiastic, and extremely well behaved. We took the kids to the local soccer field and played for the rest of the afternoon.
Sunday
The next day, we spent the morning touring Sarah´s neighborhood which has as many issues as Mary Ann´s. After having a snack of fruit kebabs, the 11 of us went to the beach. It was the first time I had seen the Costa Rican coast; it was breathtaking. Puntarenas is set in the Nicoya Gulf, which is sheltered by the Nicoya Penninsula, so there are no waves. There was, however, a view of blue sea punctuated by the high, brown mountains of the Nicoya. After a quick dip, us Gringos boarded a ferry to the Nicoya Penninsula; we just had to see it up close. We stocked up on salty snacks and boarded the ship headed for Playa Naranja. The hour and a half trip was spent chatting, sunning, and eating.
Everything was going fine until I spotted another Gringo on the boat who -GASP- was wearing an Ohio State cap. I took extreme offense, and saw it as a challenge. I ducked below deck, abandoing my friends only to emerge with my Michigan shorts on. I walked around the deck like some animal performing a primal warring dance. We locked eyes, I lifted my fist and said ¨GO BLUE!¨ He averted my stare, which I took as a sign of defeat. If only our football games could be won like that.
To my surprise, I turned around only to find a man at another table wearing a shirt with a giant swastika on it. I was confused, I had stepped on the boat only minutes before, and found that two of my mortal enimies were on board. However, I didn´t let the scum of the earth bring me down. I took in the view, and enjoyed the ride with my friends. The thing that made me laugh was the fact that I was truly more offended by the man in the Ohio State hate. Yep, these are my priorities...
The time at Playa Naranjo was spent having dinner at a quaint hotel off the beaten path. While waiting for the food, we took a dip in their pool. The Ferry ride back to Puntarenas was muy tranquillo: we watched the sunset over the gulf, and relaxed. Despite the extreme heat and omnipresent smell of fish, Puntarenas was a good time.
Monday
After a visit to the PANI Office (US equivalent to Childrens Services), to meet the director, we boarded a bus to Herradura. Herradura is a small town just to the north of the surf paradise of Jaco. Upon our arival, we met our new host volunteer named Max. I knew that Max and I would be friends immediately; he went to Michigan. Indeed, we did become instant friends. He is a witty, laid back guy who has been in country for over a year and a half. That afternoon, we lunched and relaxed. Since I was to stay with Max because one of the host families bailed out at the last minute, I got to see a bit more of the PCV experience. That night, we spoke about the challenges and rewards of being a volunteer in Herradura. It was clear that he was proud of his work with the local school and community.
Tuesday
I woke up early and had my interview with Dan, Carolina and Scott: the people who are going to decide where my permanent site will be. We spoke about my experience and my preferences, so that they could better place me. It went well, and I left it hoping that they find a good fit for me.
The group then went to the local school and gave a fun presentation. We worked with a fourth grade class, teaching them fun facts about the US. They, in turn, taught us information about Costa Rica, and we had a CR vs US Jeopardy game.
We then took the bus into Jaco and met the head of the Officina de la Mujer: a womans group fighting to prevent domestic violence (among other things). Continuing down the road, we went to the local health clininc and met another community leader: a pshycologist who works with troubled youth (among other people). The leaders seemed firmly vested in their work and were quite inspirational. I hope that the counterparts in my site are as strong.
We then hit the beach. I rented a surfboard only to be thoroughly frightened by the 6-8 foot waves. After catching a few of the smaller ones, I joined my compañeros and we returned to Herradura for the night. We spent the night relaxing on Max´s porch talking about the incredible things we had seen. An excited fourth grade class, Officina de la Mujer, the clinic and 8 foot waves; I sure did see some incredible things.
The next day we had breakfast together and took the bus home. We were exhausted from the trip, but thoroughly empowered by what we had seen. It made the idea of moving in-site as a volunteer that much more tangible and exciting. I can only hope that my experience is as successful as Mary Ann, Sarah and Max´s.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
