Chicas Súper Poderosas: La Gira

As I explained in an earlier blog, I run a girls’ empowerment group in my school called “Chicas Super Poderosas.” We have successfully completed workshops on leadership, communication, decision making, career/future planning, self-esteem, sexuality and relationships. All of these classes have gone well, and I have had the privilege of seeing the girls grow and bond as a group. The aim of the program is to put the girls on a career track, rather than the common fate for women in my barrio: have kids, shack up with a guy, and spend the rest of one’s life in the house.

The culminating event of the program is the gira (field trip). After several weeks of planning and stressing, I finally nailed down the destination of our gira: the pacific campus of Universidad de Costa Rica. I met with the university’s orientadora, Marta, and she suggested that I bring the girls to the university’s health fair. I thought it a good idea, and agreed.

While the plan seemed simple enough, the trip took a lot of planning and preparation. The hardest part was getting my school’s new director on board. She is the third director that we have had this year. This has made my life harder, because all of the plans that I made with the past two directors have to be re-approved by her. When I went over the gira with her, she seemed a bit wishy-washy. I firmly explained to her that the plans had already been approved by her predecessor, and that the plans are set in stone. “You don’t have to plan anything,” I said to her. “And to mettle with the gira would damage relations that you are developing with the girls, and any relationship we have with the university.” She seemed to respond positively to my firm stance, and gave the gira her blessing. All I needed from her, I told her, was permission slips to distribute before the next “Chicas” session.

This proved more difficult than one would think. I asked her for the permission slips nine days before the gira. The Monday before the gira, I asked if she had made the permission slips. She said no, but she would have them for me the next day. The next day, I went to her office and got the same response. That night, I typed up a permission slip to give to her. The next day, I told her that I had made one, and that all she had to do was paste the school’s letterhead to the top and sign it. “No, no,” she responded. “I have to do it.”

“My ‘Chicas’ session starts in two hours.” I said to her with a skeptical look.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll make it, find all of the girls in class this afternoon, and have them bring it in tomorrow.”

“Ummm, okay.” I started to walk out of her office, but stopped and looked back at her. “Do you even know which girls are in the group?” She grimaced. I slid the list of names under her nose and walked out fuming.

I woke up the next day, Thursday, knowing that the director had not done what she promised. I had heard too many horror stories from friends about months of planning projects for naught because counterparts did not do their job. I was not about to let this happen. I walked into the director’s office to find that she had, in fact, printed out and signed the permission slips. However, none of the girls had them. The trip was the next day. I decided to take things into my own hands.

I buttered her up with all kinds of compliments. “You are doing such a good job here…the transition is going so well…I don’t know how you juggle so much at one time, you are always so busy!” She smiled and thanked me. “So listen, since you are so busy, let me handle the permission slips. She agreed, and I went to find the teacher who is my “partner” for the “Chicas” program. I asked her if she knew where any of the girls are, and she told me that most of them didn’t even have class that day.

“It looks like you and I are going to be the only ones on this gira!” She laughed, thinking she was being clever. I looked at her straight faced and asked her for the addresses of all the girls in the class. This was not funny. I had planned this trip for weeks. She told me that she didn’t know the girls’ addresses. I explained to her that they are on all class lists, not believing that she did not know this information. So she stopped chuckling and helped me gather the information. I spent the rest of the day going to each girl’s house, and having their mothers sign permission slips. Once I got them all, I brought them to the director, who looked at them with genuine shock.

“You are welcome to join us if you like,” I said before turning and leaving.




The gira was everything I hoped it would be. Eleven of the twelve girls showed up for the trip, along with the partner teacher, a parent chaperone, and my incredible friend and PTA president: Yessenia. Early in the morning, a fancy minibus pulled up to the school. The words “Universidad de Costa Rica” were painted on the side. Marta emerged and introduced herself to the girls. They immediately had a good rapport, and got on the bus together. There was something majestic about having the girls in the university bus, driving through the barrio. It was like a performance for the whole project: we are going to the university, how cool are we? Kids ran alongside the bus, tapping its side as if to ask “can we come too?” Looking at the girls smiles, I could tell that the trip was going to be a success.

We pulled up to the campus, and I heard several “oooh” and “ahhhs.” It is a beautiful site: on the water with grass courtyards and several picnic tables filled with conversing students. The girls were filed into chairs in the university’s open-air auditorium where they participated in a yoga demonstration and dance performance. Once this opening ceremony was completed, the girls were introduced to their guides for the day: several spunky and affable college students. There was an immediate connection between them; the kids fired off questions as they led us to our first classroom.

I was thrilled to see that the girls were engaging with the students. They, being college students, were obviously the coolest people on the planet to the girls. My hope is that they remember how cool they are when they think about attending university in seven or eight years. I wanted the girls to think: “maybe one day I can be that cool.” I’m pretty sure that that was the case for every single one of them.

The first classroom was split into three sections regarding personal hygiene. The girls watched hygiene themed puppet show in the first section. In the second, they learned the proper way to wash their hands and feet. In the final section (I don’t know how this relates to hygiene), the girls had a lesson on children’s rights. All of these lessons was planned and run by college students.

The next classroom involved a health themed English lesson. Again, there was a puppet show, a short skit, and a sing-along session. The girls seemed a bit lost when the university students started speaking in English about stomach aches and nutrition, but I think that they got the point. Again, the girls were thoroughly engaged with the students, and had to be torn from the classroom.

Our third room was one of the most enjoyable for the girls: a lesson in karate. A karate instructor taught the girls several self defense methods. The girls loved this, and got a kick out of fake-punching their friends in the throat. I made sure to emphasize what the instructor said: “only do this if you are being attacked by someone. Do not perform this attack on any of your friends or me.” Of course, I found myself being karate-chopped by the girls for the rest of the day.

Next, we had an aerobics class. The girls got a chance to do some spinning on stationary bikes, exercises on yoga balls, and a bit of weight lifting. This activity was cut short by our call to eat lunch at the university soda.

After lunch, the girls were led to the computer lab where they were taught how to use the internet. By the time our session was done, we literally had to pry them out of the chairs to get to our next session. This prompted Yessenia to mention to me that we really need to get our computer lab together. We have the computers and air conditioning; all we need are computer tables. “We’ve got to get on that” she said. I agreed and made a personal note to follow up on that.

We were led to the penultimate classroom where paramedics were waiting. No, nobody was hurt; they were there to teach the girls first aid and emergency response. The brave Ashley volunteered to play the victim in our little demonstration. Giggling the whole time, she was stabilized as a spinal injury victim. Ending up strapped to a board with a neck brace, she and the class thoroughly enjoyed the presentation and the friendly paramedics.

The last class was a workshop on how to make arts and crafts out of products that we usually consider to be trash. The concept is called art recycling. Out of plastic bottles, the girls made chalices. Out of milk cartons, they made vases. Several bags of “trash” were turned into beautiful works of art, which the girls happily took home.

We had to pry the girls out of the university building. “Can we stay until five? Six?” they asked over and over again. “Can we come back?” they asked Marta.

“Of course you can come back” she replied as she put us on the bus. The chaperones and I grinned at each other. The girls had never seen a university before. The concept had been obscure and intangible to them. But now, they were familiar with the university, and had very positive memories associated with it.

I remember that my high school grades jumped significantly after my first college visit. I knew that there was a reason to study hard: college. My hope is that the girls remember their visit throughout elementary and high school. Perhaps our one visit will prompt at least one of those girls to apply to the university, and si dios quiere, enroll.