Mike recently gave a presentation at church about sharing our spiritual journeys. As part of the gathering, he asked me to talk about how I became more comfortable talking about spirituality with others while we were in Costa Rica. A slightly modified version of what I shared follows:
Mike has always been good about engaging in conversation with others, but I’ve tended to be much more hesitant in talking about my thoughts and feelings outside of a very small circle of family and friends, and even then I’ve often done better communicating through writing than talking face to face. For the most part, I have lived a pretty sheltered life surrounded by other Christian Scientists. So, interacting with people in Costa Rica whose faith practices are so different from my own was a good stretch for me.
Every week Mike held “Prayer and Share” meetings at Rio Shanti, a colorful house turned into a yoga studio and boutique. Rio Shanti means, “River of Peace,” and it is one of my favorite places in Monteverde…one of my favorite places anywhere.
One of the first things I did at Rio Shanti was attend an I-Ching circle. I had no idea what an I-Ching circle was, but it was free and a way to meet other people who spoke English. I soon learned that I-Ching is one of the oldest wisdom teachings. We’d sit in a circle, individually think of a question or challenge in our lives, and then draw an I-Ching card (kind of like someone might open the Bible to a random verse when looking for an answer). We’d each read our card and talk together about how it applied to what we were thinking about. There was often wonderful synchronicity. The card I drew in thinking about this presentation is an example: “#44 High Connections: Make connections that are good for you. Give the power to your higher nature and abide by the choice. Bring light and healing to all of you. Unite with the highest in others and the highest in your circumstances.” Theo, the creator of the cards, was a great facilitator. He always seemed to know when I had something to say but was being hesitant. Through these circles, I began to develop the confidence to talk about my thoughts and things that are important to me spiritually. For many of the participants, the discussion had little to do with religious faith. But God is very much a part of how I think, and eventually, when talking about my own experience, I found that I was able to bring God into the conversation in a way that felt very natural and that people respected and appreciated.
At Rio Shanti, I also enjoyed attending “Peace Pilgrim” discussions, a few mediation sessions, my first yoga classes, an “Inner Peace” circle, and a presentation on Ken Wilber’s “Integral Philosophy.” I may not have learned much Spanish in Costa Rica, but I did begin to broaden my knowledge of the language of contemporary spirituality. In the gentle, open atmosphere of Rio Shanti, I found the courage to step out of my comfort zone and try new things…including talking about and from my heart.
I have to confess that, as much as I liked any excuse to go to Rio Shanti, at first I wasn’t very supportive of Mike’s “Prayer and Share” meetings. I was learning to talk about God, but reading from the Bible and Science and Health and talking about spiritual healing was another story. I think I was afraid of turning off the new friends we were making. I didn’t want to be seen as pushy.
However, this began to change for me at one meeting where our friend Alberto talked about how cool it is that there are so many different religions and ways to worship God—structured services for those who like to know what’s coming, silent gatherings like Quaker Meetings, large contemporary services with rock bands and charismatic preachers, groups that share dancing, singing, meditation. There’s something for almost everyone. He also commented on how much God must enjoy being worshipped is so many different ways.
His thoughts made an impression on me. As I sat there looking at the beauty around me, I began comparing this diversity of worship to the amazing biodiversity in the Costa Rican rainforests and imaging God being just as delighted by the world’s diversity of religions and faith practices as we are by the diversity of wildlife—the hundreds of different orchids, insects, or birds found in the cloud forest.
I began to wonder, “If God loves all these different forms of worship, how can I say that my religion is better than another or is truly “the” way?” In nature, “absolute truth” for one animal (i.e. what it needs to not only survive but thrive) is very different from the needs or “absolute truth” of another. Is it same for us in our search to understand God? I began wondering if in our convictions about our own faith, we sometimes try to take fish out of water in relating to others. Had I been trying to “impart” my faith as salvation, rather than simply sharing it through my own story?
I can’t say that I have answers but realizing that my faith practices are just one example of God-blessed spiritual diversity (something to celebrate) has really helped set the tone for talking about my religious convictions with others. It has helped me be less judgmental and has also given me confidence in telling other Christian Scientists about some of the non-traditional things my own church is doing.
So if you’re uncomfortable talking about your thoughts and life (let alone your spirituality) with others, I encourage you to start simply. Invite a new friend to Starbucks and just talk about your family. Maybe join a book discussion group, or try sharing a thought or two at church services. Take a baby step. It might be the beginning of a wonderful journey.
Showing posts with label Costa Rica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Costa Rica. Show all posts
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Costa Rica Lessons - Experiencing Versus Accomplishing
(Today we will have been back from Costa Rica for a year, and I realized it has been even longer since I’ve written anything about our time there…partially because it has taken that long to distill some of the lessons learned, Hopefully, bit by bit, they’ll make their way onto the page. Someone recently asked why life seems slower-paced in many Latin American countries. Thinking about that question helped bring the following thoughts into focus. )
At the first gathering of international families at the Cloud Forest School (i.e. those of us from the USA), we were given packets to help orient us to the school and community. But perhaps the most useful information shared was a piece of advice, “Don’t expect too much. Be content if you only accomplish one thing each day.” Not an easy frame of mind to adopt for those of us who delight in crossings things off our “to do” lists. There were many luxuries we didn’t have--a car, hot water in the kitchen, reliable internet, or at first even a dryer. Yet, at that point, little did I imagine that this “one thing” would sometimes simply be having clean dry clothes for the next day or all the ingredients for the evening meal. At first, I don’t know which was harder, walking uphill for 25 minutes carrying a backpack of groceries, or accepting this feat as my major accomplishment for the day.
Things move more slowly in Costa Rica. “Tico time” (i.e. people being little late) isn’t a slur but a simple fact of life. And it could be argued that there aren’t as many things to do in Monteverde as in a big city. However, it occurs to me that what ultimately makes life feel simpler and slower paced there is an attitude. People seem to be much more interested in experiencing life than in getting places or accomplishing things. There is one main road that leads everywhere. Michael said that traveling down this road was his definition of being online in Monteverde. He was much more likely to connect with people he needed to talk to while walking somewhere than by trying to reach them by phone or email. For us, “Tico time” came to mean leaving early for activities so we’d have time to stop and talk to people along the way…or maybe pause awhile to admire a rainbow or watch some monkeys.
It took us awhile to adjust our paradigms and values to not measure a day by things accomplished. The saying, “Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today” doesn’t totally ring true to me anymore, but rather, “Be willing to put off until tomorrow what you had planned to do today if circumstances or inspiration call you elsewhere. Be willing to let go of a sense of urgency about getting things done and enjoy the people who cross your path, pause to dig deeper into the inspirations that come, appreciate the beauty around you.”
I had an opportunity to bring this lesson home this winter and spring when Bogie, our golden retriever was ill. Because of health challenges, he wasn’t very mobile, so I spent many hours sitting by his side reading, thinking, praying, or simply playing card games on my computer. But had I not slowed down…postponing the house cleaning and dishes occasionally, leaving the laundry in the basket for yet another day, or choosing his company over going out and doing something else…I would have missed a lot. I might never have realized how courageous he was, how much joy and peace he radiated, how unbothered he was by what was going on with his body. I learned a lot from him during his last months with us; we both experienced a lot of life.
And that’s what I want to keep doing…experiencing life. Yes, sometimes we need to accomplish things, but I hope I remember to put first things first whenever possible…to take time to watch a sunset, pet a dog, enjoy my family and friends, or strike up a conversation with a stranger. This is, as they say in Costa Rica, “Pura vida!” (pure life).
At the first gathering of international families at the Cloud Forest School (i.e. those of us from the USA), we were given packets to help orient us to the school and community. But perhaps the most useful information shared was a piece of advice, “Don’t expect too much. Be content if you only accomplish one thing each day.” Not an easy frame of mind to adopt for those of us who delight in crossings things off our “to do” lists. There were many luxuries we didn’t have--a car, hot water in the kitchen, reliable internet, or at first even a dryer. Yet, at that point, little did I imagine that this “one thing” would sometimes simply be having clean dry clothes for the next day or all the ingredients for the evening meal. At first, I don’t know which was harder, walking uphill for 25 minutes carrying a backpack of groceries, or accepting this feat as my major accomplishment for the day.
Things move more slowly in Costa Rica. “Tico time” (i.e. people being little late) isn’t a slur but a simple fact of life. And it could be argued that there aren’t as many things to do in Monteverde as in a big city. However, it occurs to me that what ultimately makes life feel simpler and slower paced there is an attitude. People seem to be much more interested in experiencing life than in getting places or accomplishing things. There is one main road that leads everywhere. Michael said that traveling down this road was his definition of being online in Monteverde. He was much more likely to connect with people he needed to talk to while walking somewhere than by trying to reach them by phone or email. For us, “Tico time” came to mean leaving early for activities so we’d have time to stop and talk to people along the way…or maybe pause awhile to admire a rainbow or watch some monkeys.
It took us awhile to adjust our paradigms and values to not measure a day by things accomplished. The saying, “Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today” doesn’t totally ring true to me anymore, but rather, “Be willing to put off until tomorrow what you had planned to do today if circumstances or inspiration call you elsewhere. Be willing to let go of a sense of urgency about getting things done and enjoy the people who cross your path, pause to dig deeper into the inspirations that come, appreciate the beauty around you.”
I had an opportunity to bring this lesson home this winter and spring when Bogie, our golden retriever was ill. Because of health challenges, he wasn’t very mobile, so I spent many hours sitting by his side reading, thinking, praying, or simply playing card games on my computer. But had I not slowed down…postponing the house cleaning and dishes occasionally, leaving the laundry in the basket for yet another day, or choosing his company over going out and doing something else…I would have missed a lot. I might never have realized how courageous he was, how much joy and peace he radiated, how unbothered he was by what was going on with his body. I learned a lot from him during his last months with us; we both experienced a lot of life.
And that’s what I want to keep doing…experiencing life. Yes, sometimes we need to accomplish things, but I hope I remember to put first things first whenever possible…to take time to watch a sunset, pet a dog, enjoy my family and friends, or strike up a conversation with a stranger. This is, as they say in Costa Rica, “Pura vida!” (pure life).
Friday, February 05, 2010
Happiness is...Feeling Home
Mike and I had just talked to his brother and then my sister on SKYPE. Sabores (it means “flavors”), the nearby ice cream parlor, recently got high speed internet, which makes a long distance computer call only a chocolate covered “monkey” banana away (only 60 cents and a five minute stroll), rather than a mile walk. The restaurant had closed at 8:00, but they kindly leave the internet on and a bench outside until they finish cleaning up for the night. It was beginning to get a little chilly so, I decided to head home while Mike finished talking to his mom. As I turned to leave, it hit me. Happiness! For perhaps the first time, just being here felt like fun…felt like home. The glow from the stars and street lights felt warm and friendly as I walked back to our house.
This morning as I followed the same road to drop off trash for pickup, I decided that today is the first day of spring…not just for Monteverde, but for my heart. Outside, the air is warm and fragrant, the sky a bright cloudless blue. The strong wind we’ve had for weeks is a whispering breeze, and bird and bug voices delight my ears with their cheery abundance.
It has taken almost seven months to get to this point where our little neighborhood in Costa Rica feels like home…not just a place to stay while we are away from home for a year. I think “the winter of discontent” is behind me.
I was ill for most of November and December, so I spent a lot of time at home. I missed the little comforts I might normally enjoy if not feeling well in the U.S.—long hot baths, “soul” food…the neighborhood grocery store didn’t even have Kleenex. Whenever the slightest thing went wrong, I found myself mentally sighing (or sometimes silently screaming), “I want to go home.” During one of my many praying/thinking times, it suddenly hit me that I was using this phrase like a swear word. I might just as well have been saying the “F-word” to life. So I decided to stop. I didn’t really want to go home. Gratefully it didn’t take long to remove the words from my vocabulary, and it really began to make a difference in how I felt about our time here.
Actually, even though I was under the weather, the holidays were quite pleasant. We had a couple of students over for Thanksgiving dinner and shared platefuls of food with several other people. We even found a turkey for the meat eaters. Mike and Heidi unexpectedly found a lovely Christmas tree in town the next day and carried it a mile uphill. Heidi cut out paper snowflakes galore to hang from our ceiling and even strung popcorn for the tree. We had a mid-December trip to the beach. And even though we weren’t all together for Christmas itself (Mike and Lincoln were in St. Louis), it wasn’t a lonely time. Heidi’s friend Blair and her family arrived for a week in Costa Rica on December 25th, and she and I had a nice visit with them.
In early January, Heidi and I spent four nights in Granada, Nicaragua. (Costa Rica requires tourists to leave the country every 90 days for at least 72 hours.) Here, I was once again reminded that happiness isn’t found in possessions or comfort. We spent a day touring regional sights and enjoyed talking at lunch with our guide. A few years ago, he had returned to Granada from the United States where he was working construction, to an income in Granada of only $175 a month, because he didn’t like working 70 hours a week just to buy things that didn’t really make him happy.
As with our fall trip to Nicaragua, we saw people living in sheds that in the US wouldn’t be considered worthy lodging for a lawnmower. I saw a “sister” washing laundry in a cistern. No one (not even our hotel) has hot showers. But people seemed happy.
Riding the bus back to Monteverde, it occurred to me that, if we didn’t have family to think about and had a way to generate income, I’d consider starting a new life in Monteverde. We definitely aren’t going to stay in Costa Rica (I’ve since bought plane tickets to St. Louis for early June), but considering Monteverde to have “home” potential was a BIG step for me. In fact, I referred to our return trip to Monteverde as “going home.”
January was also a prayer-filled time. I began thinking a lot about what it meant for the kingdom of heaven to be within and at hand. But I still found myself searching for happiness. My “Happiness is…” Facebook status postings the past week and a half, have been as much about seeking happiness as celebrating it. I’d written them because I was feeling a bit down and know that seeking and being grateful for the good in our lives helps us feel God’s presence. So, I shouldn’t have been surprised last night to feel a spark of true simple happiness, but I was. I was equally delighted to feel it walking down our lane again this morning. And I think, that for the most part, the feeling, like the lovely weather outside, is here to stay.
Happiness is…here, at hand, within. It is feeling God’s gentle, tender care…feeling home.
This morning as I followed the same road to drop off trash for pickup, I decided that today is the first day of spring…not just for Monteverde, but for my heart. Outside, the air is warm and fragrant, the sky a bright cloudless blue. The strong wind we’ve had for weeks is a whispering breeze, and bird and bug voices delight my ears with their cheery abundance.
It has taken almost seven months to get to this point where our little neighborhood in Costa Rica feels like home…not just a place to stay while we are away from home for a year. I think “the winter of discontent” is behind me.
I was ill for most of November and December, so I spent a lot of time at home. I missed the little comforts I might normally enjoy if not feeling well in the U.S.—long hot baths, “soul” food…the neighborhood grocery store didn’t even have Kleenex. Whenever the slightest thing went wrong, I found myself mentally sighing (or sometimes silently screaming), “I want to go home.” During one of my many praying/thinking times, it suddenly hit me that I was using this phrase like a swear word. I might just as well have been saying the “F-word” to life. So I decided to stop. I didn’t really want to go home. Gratefully it didn’t take long to remove the words from my vocabulary, and it really began to make a difference in how I felt about our time here.
Actually, even though I was under the weather, the holidays were quite pleasant. We had a couple of students over for Thanksgiving dinner and shared platefuls of food with several other people. We even found a turkey for the meat eaters. Mike and Heidi unexpectedly found a lovely Christmas tree in town the next day and carried it a mile uphill. Heidi cut out paper snowflakes galore to hang from our ceiling and even strung popcorn for the tree. We had a mid-December trip to the beach. And even though we weren’t all together for Christmas itself (Mike and Lincoln were in St. Louis), it wasn’t a lonely time. Heidi’s friend Blair and her family arrived for a week in Costa Rica on December 25th, and she and I had a nice visit with them.
In early January, Heidi and I spent four nights in Granada, Nicaragua. (Costa Rica requires tourists to leave the country every 90 days for at least 72 hours.) Here, I was once again reminded that happiness isn’t found in possessions or comfort. We spent a day touring regional sights and enjoyed talking at lunch with our guide. A few years ago, he had returned to Granada from the United States where he was working construction, to an income in Granada of only $175 a month, because he didn’t like working 70 hours a week just to buy things that didn’t really make him happy.
As with our fall trip to Nicaragua, we saw people living in sheds that in the US wouldn’t be considered worthy lodging for a lawnmower. I saw a “sister” washing laundry in a cistern. No one (not even our hotel) has hot showers. But people seemed happy.
Riding the bus back to Monteverde, it occurred to me that, if we didn’t have family to think about and had a way to generate income, I’d consider starting a new life in Monteverde. We definitely aren’t going to stay in Costa Rica (I’ve since bought plane tickets to St. Louis for early June), but considering Monteverde to have “home” potential was a BIG step for me. In fact, I referred to our return trip to Monteverde as “going home.”
January was also a prayer-filled time. I began thinking a lot about what it meant for the kingdom of heaven to be within and at hand. But I still found myself searching for happiness. My “Happiness is…” Facebook status postings the past week and a half, have been as much about seeking happiness as celebrating it. I’d written them because I was feeling a bit down and know that seeking and being grateful for the good in our lives helps us feel God’s presence. So, I shouldn’t have been surprised last night to feel a spark of true simple happiness, but I was. I was equally delighted to feel it walking down our lane again this morning. And I think, that for the most part, the feeling, like the lovely weather outside, is here to stay.
Happiness is…here, at hand, within. It is feeling God’s gentle, tender care…feeling home.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Laundry...the Story of my Life
I remember writing a friend one Saturday afternoon last year and, with a sigh, calling laundry “the story of my life.” She knew my weekend missives all too well: “Hi there, I’m just taking a break from folding laundry...(chit chat)…Well, I better get back to the basket of darks. With love, Maria.”
After a few weeks of living in Costa Rica, I realized how hard it would be if I had to work full time and live here in Monteverde—it takes time to walk everywhere and do so many more things manually. Many things (such as appliances and packaged foods) that I used to consider necessities or staples in the States are uncommon here. It dawned on me more clearly than ever before how on one hand, I worked to be able to purchase these various conveniences, but on the other hand, it was those very things which, in many ways, made it possible for me to work and still have time for other activities…including sleep.
Laundry is a good example. In St. Louis, I would often start a load of laundry in the washing machine before going to work in the morning, toss it into the dryer at lunchtime, and then some time in the evening carefully lay it in a laundry basket to be folded and put away on the weekend.
Typical Costa Rican washers aren’t automatic. You have to manually turn the water on and off, flip a switch to drain the water after each cycle, put the laundry in a separate tub to spin the water out (like the swimsuit dryers at recreation centers), and then hang the laundry on the clothesline, turning it upside down and back and forth throughout the morning trying to get it dry before the first rain shower of the day. Fortunately we also have a covered porch where we can continue the drying process if needed. Most people living in Costa Rica don’t have dryers—the cost of electricity is prohibitive. If you do have one, you try to dry the clothes after 8 p.m. when the price of electricity is less and then only use it if, after a day or two on the clothesline, your towels and jeans still aren’t dry. Right now the spinner on our washer isn’t working, but I ceased complaining about having to wring out laundry by hand (it’s a good way to strengthen arm muscles) after a trip to Nicaragua the first weekend in October.
Since we are here on tourist visas, we have to leave the country for 72 hours every 90 days. We left the house at 4:00 Thursday morning to catch the bus to Nicaragua. It was the first time we had ventured to a third world country. The point of entry area was surrounded by people selling inexpensive food, hammocks, and pirated DVD’s, as well as children, the elderly, and handicapped begging for money. Their persistent requests as we waited in line for customs were difficult to handle emotionally, and we wished we had brought more coins or small bills to share.
Not too far from the border, we took a ferry across Lake Nicaragua (the 11th largest lake in the world) to the Island of Ometepe. 40,000 people live on the island which is laid out like a figure eight around two volcanoes. Our hostess at the hotel told us that the people on the island are cash poor but not hungry. Families are able to grow fruits and vegetables and have animals for eggs, milk, and meat. But, very few jobs are available, and those people who have them don’t earn much. Apparently the average annual (yes annual) income in Nicaragua is $600 (as compared to $500 a month in Costa Rica). Nicaraguans will work 10-12 hour days, 6 days a week, for eight and a half cents an hour. Yet, our experience showed that these are kind and happy people.
On Friday, a taxi driver took us around the island in his beat up jeep showing us the sites and waiting while we swam on various Ozark-like beaches. Years from now, however, it’s not the beaches I’ll remember but the slices of life we saw driving from place to place—the groups of children walking to and from school, the young men (some just boys) herding cows down the street on bicycles or scrawny ponies, the oxcarts hauling firewood (while most houses have electricity, it is only for lights; most people still use wood stoves for cooking), pigs and chickens everywhere (including in the living rooms of houses—all of which had their doors open for ventilation on the very warm afternoon), and, perhaps most moving to me, the women up to their waists in water washing laundry by hand in the river or lake.
We returned from Nicaragua on Sunday, and the following Friday, Heidi and I made a trip to the United States. While in St. Louis, I enjoyed being with family and friends, but I often felt frenzied and ungrounded as I did endless errands. I had quite a long list of things to buy, not only for ourselves, but for others too—a list that took me to two different malls, three groceries stores, Toys R Us, Alpine Shop, Sports Authority, Home Depot, Target, Blockbuster Video, Petsmart, our vet, and the new Walmart SuperCenter. Talk about culture shock! I think every square foot of retail space in the Santa Elena/Monteverde area could fit inside the Walmart…twice over.
The contrast between Nicaragua and West County St. Louis was arresting and further stirred paradigms had been struggling with for quite a while. Even though I feel our family’s year in Costa Rica is God-impelled, I don’t think a week has gone by since the idea surfaced when I haven’t wrestled with feeling a bit guilty (OK sometimes very guilty…and concerned) about spending our savings on this experience. (We may be helping our kids pay back college loans for a long time.) However, after our time in Nicaragua, I was even more keenly aware that simply being able to make the choice to be here (a choice on how we spend our money) is in itself a luxury.
I don’t have all (in fact hardly any) of the answers yet, but gratefully I’m beginning to work through some of the issues swirling in thought and reconnect with an inner peace. I have a rekindled faith that moment by moment God will show us how “to be,” how to live with integrity and love.
My “sisters” scrubbing clothes in Lake Nicaragua are never far from thought as I do my daily chores. Next time you do laundry, think of the women (and men) all over the world in lakes, rivers, laundromats, houses, and apartments who, whatever their lot, are doing their best to live not only with clean clothes but, perhaps more importantly, with joy and grace. This new sense of universal sister/brotherhood means a lot to me today and gives me hope.
Happy washing!
After a few weeks of living in Costa Rica, I realized how hard it would be if I had to work full time and live here in Monteverde—it takes time to walk everywhere and do so many more things manually. Many things (such as appliances and packaged foods) that I used to consider necessities or staples in the States are uncommon here. It dawned on me more clearly than ever before how on one hand, I worked to be able to purchase these various conveniences, but on the other hand, it was those very things which, in many ways, made it possible for me to work and still have time for other activities…including sleep.
Laundry is a good example. In St. Louis, I would often start a load of laundry in the washing machine before going to work in the morning, toss it into the dryer at lunchtime, and then some time in the evening carefully lay it in a laundry basket to be folded and put away on the weekend.
Typical Costa Rican washers aren’t automatic. You have to manually turn the water on and off, flip a switch to drain the water after each cycle, put the laundry in a separate tub to spin the water out (like the swimsuit dryers at recreation centers), and then hang the laundry on the clothesline, turning it upside down and back and forth throughout the morning trying to get it dry before the first rain shower of the day. Fortunately we also have a covered porch where we can continue the drying process if needed. Most people living in Costa Rica don’t have dryers—the cost of electricity is prohibitive. If you do have one, you try to dry the clothes after 8 p.m. when the price of electricity is less and then only use it if, after a day or two on the clothesline, your towels and jeans still aren’t dry. Right now the spinner on our washer isn’t working, but I ceased complaining about having to wring out laundry by hand (it’s a good way to strengthen arm muscles) after a trip to Nicaragua the first weekend in October.
Since we are here on tourist visas, we have to leave the country for 72 hours every 90 days. We left the house at 4:00 Thursday morning to catch the bus to Nicaragua. It was the first time we had ventured to a third world country. The point of entry area was surrounded by people selling inexpensive food, hammocks, and pirated DVD’s, as well as children, the elderly, and handicapped begging for money. Their persistent requests as we waited in line for customs were difficult to handle emotionally, and we wished we had brought more coins or small bills to share.
Not too far from the border, we took a ferry across Lake Nicaragua (the 11th largest lake in the world) to the Island of Ometepe. 40,000 people live on the island which is laid out like a figure eight around two volcanoes. Our hostess at the hotel told us that the people on the island are cash poor but not hungry. Families are able to grow fruits and vegetables and have animals for eggs, milk, and meat. But, very few jobs are available, and those people who have them don’t earn much. Apparently the average annual (yes annual) income in Nicaragua is $600 (as compared to $500 a month in Costa Rica). Nicaraguans will work 10-12 hour days, 6 days a week, for eight and a half cents an hour. Yet, our experience showed that these are kind and happy people.
On Friday, a taxi driver took us around the island in his beat up jeep showing us the sites and waiting while we swam on various Ozark-like beaches. Years from now, however, it’s not the beaches I’ll remember but the slices of life we saw driving from place to place—the groups of children walking to and from school, the young men (some just boys) herding cows down the street on bicycles or scrawny ponies, the oxcarts hauling firewood (while most houses have electricity, it is only for lights; most people still use wood stoves for cooking), pigs and chickens everywhere (including in the living rooms of houses—all of which had their doors open for ventilation on the very warm afternoon), and, perhaps most moving to me, the women up to their waists in water washing laundry by hand in the river or lake.
We returned from Nicaragua on Sunday, and the following Friday, Heidi and I made a trip to the United States. While in St. Louis, I enjoyed being with family and friends, but I often felt frenzied and ungrounded as I did endless errands. I had quite a long list of things to buy, not only for ourselves, but for others too—a list that took me to two different malls, three groceries stores, Toys R Us, Alpine Shop, Sports Authority, Home Depot, Target, Blockbuster Video, Petsmart, our vet, and the new Walmart SuperCenter. Talk about culture shock! I think every square foot of retail space in the Santa Elena/Monteverde area could fit inside the Walmart…twice over.
The contrast between Nicaragua and West County St. Louis was arresting and further stirred paradigms had been struggling with for quite a while. Even though I feel our family’s year in Costa Rica is God-impelled, I don’t think a week has gone by since the idea surfaced when I haven’t wrestled with feeling a bit guilty (OK sometimes very guilty…and concerned) about spending our savings on this experience. (We may be helping our kids pay back college loans for a long time.) However, after our time in Nicaragua, I was even more keenly aware that simply being able to make the choice to be here (a choice on how we spend our money) is in itself a luxury.
I don’t have all (in fact hardly any) of the answers yet, but gratefully I’m beginning to work through some of the issues swirling in thought and reconnect with an inner peace. I have a rekindled faith that moment by moment God will show us how “to be,” how to live with integrity and love.
My “sisters” scrubbing clothes in Lake Nicaragua are never far from thought as I do my daily chores. Next time you do laundry, think of the women (and men) all over the world in lakes, rivers, laundromats, houses, and apartments who, whatever their lot, are doing their best to live not only with clean clothes but, perhaps more importantly, with joy and grace. This new sense of universal sister/brotherhood means a lot to me today and gives me hope.
Happy washing!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Memories and Markets
Our life has begun to settle down in right and needed ways this week. On Monday, Heidi transferred to the Monteverde Quaker Friends School (MFS). It’s a much better fit for her academically and socially. She came home from school the first day genuinely delighted to have homework again.
Wednesday was Children’s Day in Costa Rica, and both kids’ schools had special activities. At MFS, they divided the students up into multi-grade teams for games and other activities. I was a great way for Heidi to meet younger schoolmates; she was quickly taken under wing by two little girls who painted her face (purple eyebrows, a beard, rainbow and hearts) and who now get daily piggy back rides.
Lincoln and Michael have been busy getting ready for the September 15th Central American Independence Day parade. The Cloud Forest School will be marching with drums, bells, a couple of guitars, an accordion and two brass players. Guess who?
Friday morning Michael, Heidi and I attended a gathering in memory of our friend Rachel Crandell. Rachel was Heidi’s second grade teacher at Principia, and she and her husband were founders of the United States chapter of the Monteverde Conservation League (MCL). The memorial sharing at Mother’s Garden in the Children’s Eternal Rain Forest (BEN) was a wonderful celebration of a woman whose life showed over and over again that one person can indeed make a difference. There were just over 30 people present many of whom spontaneously spoke about Rachel—her friendship, her spirituality, her work in recording stories of the Mayan and Embera people, and her endless efforts to expand and revitalize the BEN. Mike’s contribution included singing a contemporary arrangement of the hymn “Gracious Spirit Dwell with Me.” Comments were translated into either English or Spanish, making it a bilingual event filled with a sweet spirit of brotherhood. Blue morpho butterflies came to bless the occasion with their eloquent silence; and howler monkeys, although hidden from view, voiced their appreciation for the home Rachel had helped preserve for them. At the end, a tree was planted in Rachel’s honor; and after walking back up to the Nature Center, everyone enjoyed delicious brownies with mint chocolate frosting (reminiscent of Rachel’s favorite Girl Scout cookies).
Today also was a blessed day. Every Saturday morning there is a farmer’s market in the Santa Elena high school gymnasium. Lincoln and I made the walk in together, arriving about 9:45. We were too late for good avocados or mangos, but we filled our big beach bag with green beans, broccoli, hydroponically grown lettuce (50 cents a head), bananas (6 cents each), a pepper, potatoes, zucchini, and a cucumber. Market is a community event filled with happy handshakes and kisses on the cheek (a greeting indicating acceptance in Costa Rica). We always run into friends from our schools or Quaker meeting. Today our neighbor Sara was there, and hallelujah, she was willing to take our heavy bag of purchases home in her car.
Grateful to have our load lightened, Lincoln and I went on to the Super Compro to get the rest of our groceries. We turned down an aisle, and Sara was there too! Not only did Sara again provide transport for our purchases, but she also helped me understand the sale signs. This week’s specials included buy one Kellogg’s cereal and get the second at 75% off (making each box close in price to what we pay in the US). So, for the first time in over two months, Lincoln will get to enjoy Zucharitas (Frosted Flakes) for breakfast.
Our next stop was the vet to buy rain boots for Lincoln (yes, the veterinarian is also a boot store). We got the last pair in his size. (We’ve had some good foretastes of the rainy season this week, and I’m happy to report that my rain pants, coat and boots kept me dry during a 25 minute trek in a yesterday’s 4 hour downpour.) A bilingual friend was there, and it occurred to me to see if she could help me place a special order for Bogie’s dog food. We had hauled 60 pounds of Science Diet up from San Jose in July, but it will run out soon. Thanks to Veronica, a large bag of food will arrive for us on Wednesday.
Then, just as we were about to head up the long hill home, I remembered that we needed to get a white shirt for Michael to wear in the parade on Monday. Three stores later, I had found one—a little large, but it will work. I was grateful to have been successful with our purchases, so glad not to be carrying them all home on my back, and happy to have Lincoln’s good natured companionship.
Today has been good for Bogie too. On our afternoon walk, he got to play with a friend’s two dogs. He even has an invitation to come back again tomorrow.
This evening, Mike and I sent Heidi and Lincoln off to the movies—a James Bond double feature shown in a tiny auditorium near the Bat Jungle (a really cool place to visit). The popcorn is free.
Mike just finished making chocolate cookies, and as you can see, I’ve been enjoying writing. It’s nice to have life feel good. Yeah!
Wednesday was Children’s Day in Costa Rica, and both kids’ schools had special activities. At MFS, they divided the students up into multi-grade teams for games and other activities. I was a great way for Heidi to meet younger schoolmates; she was quickly taken under wing by two little girls who painted her face (purple eyebrows, a beard, rainbow and hearts) and who now get daily piggy back rides.
Lincoln and Michael have been busy getting ready for the September 15th Central American Independence Day parade. The Cloud Forest School will be marching with drums, bells, a couple of guitars, an accordion and two brass players. Guess who?
Friday morning Michael, Heidi and I attended a gathering in memory of our friend Rachel Crandell. Rachel was Heidi’s second grade teacher at Principia, and she and her husband were founders of the United States chapter of the Monteverde Conservation League (MCL). The memorial sharing at Mother’s Garden in the Children’s Eternal Rain Forest (BEN) was a wonderful celebration of a woman whose life showed over and over again that one person can indeed make a difference. There were just over 30 people present many of whom spontaneously spoke about Rachel—her friendship, her spirituality, her work in recording stories of the Mayan and Embera people, and her endless efforts to expand and revitalize the BEN. Mike’s contribution included singing a contemporary arrangement of the hymn “Gracious Spirit Dwell with Me.” Comments were translated into either English or Spanish, making it a bilingual event filled with a sweet spirit of brotherhood. Blue morpho butterflies came to bless the occasion with their eloquent silence; and howler monkeys, although hidden from view, voiced their appreciation for the home Rachel had helped preserve for them. At the end, a tree was planted in Rachel’s honor; and after walking back up to the Nature Center, everyone enjoyed delicious brownies with mint chocolate frosting (reminiscent of Rachel’s favorite Girl Scout cookies).
Today also was a blessed day. Every Saturday morning there is a farmer’s market in the Santa Elena high school gymnasium. Lincoln and I made the walk in together, arriving about 9:45. We were too late for good avocados or mangos, but we filled our big beach bag with green beans, broccoli, hydroponically grown lettuce (50 cents a head), bananas (6 cents each), a pepper, potatoes, zucchini, and a cucumber. Market is a community event filled with happy handshakes and kisses on the cheek (a greeting indicating acceptance in Costa Rica). We always run into friends from our schools or Quaker meeting. Today our neighbor Sara was there, and hallelujah, she was willing to take our heavy bag of purchases home in her car.
Grateful to have our load lightened, Lincoln and I went on to the Super Compro to get the rest of our groceries. We turned down an aisle, and Sara was there too! Not only did Sara again provide transport for our purchases, but she also helped me understand the sale signs. This week’s specials included buy one Kellogg’s cereal and get the second at 75% off (making each box close in price to what we pay in the US). So, for the first time in over two months, Lincoln will get to enjoy Zucharitas (Frosted Flakes) for breakfast.
Our next stop was the vet to buy rain boots for Lincoln (yes, the veterinarian is also a boot store). We got the last pair in his size. (We’ve had some good foretastes of the rainy season this week, and I’m happy to report that my rain pants, coat and boots kept me dry during a 25 minute trek in a yesterday’s 4 hour downpour.) A bilingual friend was there, and it occurred to me to see if she could help me place a special order for Bogie’s dog food. We had hauled 60 pounds of Science Diet up from San Jose in July, but it will run out soon. Thanks to Veronica, a large bag of food will arrive for us on Wednesday.
Then, just as we were about to head up the long hill home, I remembered that we needed to get a white shirt for Michael to wear in the parade on Monday. Three stores later, I had found one—a little large, but it will work. I was grateful to have been successful with our purchases, so glad not to be carrying them all home on my back, and happy to have Lincoln’s good natured companionship.
Today has been good for Bogie too. On our afternoon walk, he got to play with a friend’s two dogs. He even has an invitation to come back again tomorrow.
This evening, Mike and I sent Heidi and Lincoln off to the movies—a James Bond double feature shown in a tiny auditorium near the Bat Jungle (a really cool place to visit). The popcorn is free.
Mike just finished making chocolate cookies, and as you can see, I’ve been enjoying writing. It’s nice to have life feel good. Yeah!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Bumps in the Road
The kilometers covered walking around Monteverde fall more easily under my feet now. Seven weeks without a car have helped me get in much better shape. There are several hills that will never be easy (and which must regularly be traveled), but the walk to my Monday morning yoga class, which in the beginning brought exhaustion, is now pleasant thinking time without complaints from my body.
Today as I walked, my thought wandered first to Bogie and then to things I’m learning about life. We’ve all had challenges here in Costa Rica, the pets included. Bogie has had to have a cone around his head recently so that a wound on his leg can heal, and this morning I was thinking about the beautiful new pale pink skin appearing as scabs fall off. I’ve been told that old cells in our body are regularly replaced by new ones so that literally the body I have today won’t be the same as the one I have when we return to St. Louis in June or July. I suspect I’ll actually look a little different too--a few pounds lighter, skin a bit tanner. But I wonder how many people will notice that every cell of my soul is also new—a renewal process that I can already feel happening (and that I sometimes balk at).
When people asked me if I was planning to blog regularly this year, I refused to make a commitment sensing that this experience was going to be at times a bit messy as I thought through paradigms and spent time in self-examination, that it was going to be about so much more than white-faced monkeys and toucans…about things hard to put on paper. And this has indeed been the case. Looking at the months and seasons that still lie ahead (with weeks of incessant rain coming soon), I can only hope that some of the mental miles will gradually fall more easily underfoot too.
The first month here, Heidi, Lincoln, and Mike were involved in a production of the musical "Urine Town" and my time focused on figuring out daily life—how to make the showers and washing machine work, where to get online, finding good things to eat, etc. When school started three weeks ago, a different reality started to settle in. I realized how much my sense of purpose, community, and identity felt linked to my job. While Mike is having a blast with more volunteer options at his feet than he can take on, finding a niche for myself (i.e. feeling satisfied and purposeful) is proving to be a bit more challenging.
The start of school has been hard for Heidi and Lincoln as well. We’ve realized that when their current school talks about it academics, it is comparing itself to the average US public school, and neither Principia nor Crossroads is average, so their classes haven’t been very challenging; and language and cultural differences have made friendships harder than imagined.
There have been several occasions for me, Heidi, and Lincoln, when if we had an out--a way to return to St. Louis and the schools/job and friends we love—I think we would have been tempted to abandon ship. Yet, each recommitment to staying here has helped us redefine happiness and realize that we are stronger and braver than we think. We are supporting each other more as a family--playing games, learning to me more compassionate, flexible, and forgiving, and we’ve been awakened to what a privileged life we’ve led as middle class Americans.
Sometimes it is tempting to think that happiness is in Prego spaghetti sauce or Smucker’s strawberry jam. (Sadly, we’ve learned to hoard. We were wisely counseled, “If you find them on the shelf, buy every jar in sight.”) When favorite foods aren’t readily available (or in the budget), dissatisfaction simply can’t be soothed by chocolate or a smoothie run. We recently gained perspective on the food front from a friend of Heidi’s who said he has eaten some form of rice and rehydrated beans every day of his life for 15 years; to him a meal of pasta was a treat.
When fast internet access is a 30-minute walk (at least we finally got a dial up connect at home a week ago), long distance calls cost 35 cents a minute, and SKYPE voice calls break up (forget video), the thought of heaven on earth isn’t a place or adventure, but the opportunity to talk face to face with a friend. The absence of these “tastes” of heaven has helped me realize that happiness has nothing to do with people, places, health, or things—it comes from loving (even if just sitting in a chair beaming prayers) and seeing God’s presence in the little things. However, it is much easier to understand all the lessons being learned in theory than to live them in practice, and sometimes the bugs swept out of the corners of one’s heart (as well as our living room) aren’t pretty to look at.
There may be “miles to go before I sleep” on our comfy St. Louis bed again and many roads less traveled to explore before driving down I-64 from Lambert International Airport, but as I was out walking again later today…stepping around puddles and protruding rocks in the dirt roads…the mental ground felt holy.
So while I could have written about an amazing horseback ride to a cascading river and natural hot springs (the one touristy thing we’ve done), or our wonderful houseguests from Maine (they brought dark chocolate M&M’s and great hugs), it felt important today to share the rough spots. When all is said and done, I think these will be the meat of our experience for me--not just memories but the substance of who I am and become...mi pura vida!
Today as I walked, my thought wandered first to Bogie and then to things I’m learning about life. We’ve all had challenges here in Costa Rica, the pets included. Bogie has had to have a cone around his head recently so that a wound on his leg can heal, and this morning I was thinking about the beautiful new pale pink skin appearing as scabs fall off. I’ve been told that old cells in our body are regularly replaced by new ones so that literally the body I have today won’t be the same as the one I have when we return to St. Louis in June or July. I suspect I’ll actually look a little different too--a few pounds lighter, skin a bit tanner. But I wonder how many people will notice that every cell of my soul is also new—a renewal process that I can already feel happening (and that I sometimes balk at).
When people asked me if I was planning to blog regularly this year, I refused to make a commitment sensing that this experience was going to be at times a bit messy as I thought through paradigms and spent time in self-examination, that it was going to be about so much more than white-faced monkeys and toucans…about things hard to put on paper. And this has indeed been the case. Looking at the months and seasons that still lie ahead (with weeks of incessant rain coming soon), I can only hope that some of the mental miles will gradually fall more easily underfoot too.
The first month here, Heidi, Lincoln, and Mike were involved in a production of the musical "Urine Town" and my time focused on figuring out daily life—how to make the showers and washing machine work, where to get online, finding good things to eat, etc. When school started three weeks ago, a different reality started to settle in. I realized how much my sense of purpose, community, and identity felt linked to my job. While Mike is having a blast with more volunteer options at his feet than he can take on, finding a niche for myself (i.e. feeling satisfied and purposeful) is proving to be a bit more challenging.
The start of school has been hard for Heidi and Lincoln as well. We’ve realized that when their current school talks about it academics, it is comparing itself to the average US public school, and neither Principia nor Crossroads is average, so their classes haven’t been very challenging; and language and cultural differences have made friendships harder than imagined.
There have been several occasions for me, Heidi, and Lincoln, when if we had an out--a way to return to St. Louis and the schools/job and friends we love—I think we would have been tempted to abandon ship. Yet, each recommitment to staying here has helped us redefine happiness and realize that we are stronger and braver than we think. We are supporting each other more as a family--playing games, learning to me more compassionate, flexible, and forgiving, and we’ve been awakened to what a privileged life we’ve led as middle class Americans.
Sometimes it is tempting to think that happiness is in Prego spaghetti sauce or Smucker’s strawberry jam. (Sadly, we’ve learned to hoard. We were wisely counseled, “If you find them on the shelf, buy every jar in sight.”) When favorite foods aren’t readily available (or in the budget), dissatisfaction simply can’t be soothed by chocolate or a smoothie run. We recently gained perspective on the food front from a friend of Heidi’s who said he has eaten some form of rice and rehydrated beans every day of his life for 15 years; to him a meal of pasta was a treat.
When fast internet access is a 30-minute walk (at least we finally got a dial up connect at home a week ago), long distance calls cost 35 cents a minute, and SKYPE voice calls break up (forget video), the thought of heaven on earth isn’t a place or adventure, but the opportunity to talk face to face with a friend. The absence of these “tastes” of heaven has helped me realize that happiness has nothing to do with people, places, health, or things—it comes from loving (even if just sitting in a chair beaming prayers) and seeing God’s presence in the little things. However, it is much easier to understand all the lessons being learned in theory than to live them in practice, and sometimes the bugs swept out of the corners of one’s heart (as well as our living room) aren’t pretty to look at.
There may be “miles to go before I sleep” on our comfy St. Louis bed again and many roads less traveled to explore before driving down I-64 from Lambert International Airport, but as I was out walking again later today…stepping around puddles and protruding rocks in the dirt roads…the mental ground felt holy.
So while I could have written about an amazing horseback ride to a cascading river and natural hot springs (the one touristy thing we’ve done), or our wonderful houseguests from Maine (they brought dark chocolate M&M’s and great hugs), it felt important today to share the rough spots. When all is said and done, I think these will be the meat of our experience for me--not just memories but the substance of who I am and become...mi pura vida!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Blessed Sabbath
The past two Sundays here in Costa Rica, Michael and I have attending Quaker meetings. From where we live, you REALLY have to want to go to church to get there. Unlike in St. Louis where I think nothing about hoping in the car and driving 5-30 minutes to my favorite service, it’s a different story when you have to walk 35 minutes up and down hills in heavy winds, hike over very rocky dirt roads, dodge mud puddles, and are likely to get rained on during at least one leg of the journey. By the time I got to meeting this morning, I was ready to collapse into God’s arms mentally and physically. As I sat down on the pew, that’s exactly what I did.
During the half-hour before meeting, there is a camp style a cappella hymn sing. People pick their favorite songs from two different hymn books (everything from old traditional favorites sung by our grandparents to “Let There Be Peace on Earth” and a few Pete Seeger songs); someone hums a starting note, and the music begins. We thoroughly enjoyed the singing last week.
At 10:30 the hymnals are collected, and the meeting officially begins. The meeting is very simple—approximately 50 minutes of silent prayer. But the atmosphere is profound; it is one of spiritual awareness not drowsiness. Someone may speak during the silence if so moved, but apparently most people save any comments until the last 10 minutes or so, when whoever is running the meeting that day invites “afterthoughts” followed by introductions and community announcements. On the first Sunday of each month there is a potluck.
I’ve struggled this week to feel at home in Costa Rica and have also been a bit ill, which is one reason why getting to meeting this morning felt like an accomplishment in and of itself. The night before, I had been unsure if I would be ready for the trek. We arrived late, and the silent prayer was underway. Across from me, a woman sat yoga-style with her legs crossed on the bench. Her eyes were closed and she a lovely expression of peace and joy on her face. Her serenity made me smile, and my troubles melted.
Then little Odelia (a beautiful blonde toddler) began fidgeting and making noise. Her presence inspired me to pray for the children of the world. The Bible verse, “All thy children shall be taught of the Lord and great shall be the peace of thy children,” became the launch pad for my prayers which quickly expanded to include all mankind as children of God—free from fear or disease of any kind.
It was a lovely holy meeting. We’ll be there in time for hymns next week, but today we were cleaning house for after church company—a potluck for other new “international” families. The kids enjoyed soccer, hacky sack and wii while the adults shared stories of how we all got here and what treasures, challenges, and tips we’ve discovered in our few days here.
I think many of us will share the same Sunday after meeting routine: check out books from the Friends’ (Quaker) Library (today I got Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince for Heidi and Lincoln to reread before they see the movie and picked out an Alice Hoffman novel for myself) and then stop at the Cheese Factory to pick up dairy products for the week including milk that comes out of a spicket (you bring your own container)—very delicious.
It has been a lovely day of healing, fellowship, new friends, AND on the way home from meeting, I saw three white faced monkeys up in the trees. My first monkeys!
Thank You God for this day.
During the half-hour before meeting, there is a camp style a cappella hymn sing. People pick their favorite songs from two different hymn books (everything from old traditional favorites sung by our grandparents to “Let There Be Peace on Earth” and a few Pete Seeger songs); someone hums a starting note, and the music begins. We thoroughly enjoyed the singing last week.
At 10:30 the hymnals are collected, and the meeting officially begins. The meeting is very simple—approximately 50 minutes of silent prayer. But the atmosphere is profound; it is one of spiritual awareness not drowsiness. Someone may speak during the silence if so moved, but apparently most people save any comments until the last 10 minutes or so, when whoever is running the meeting that day invites “afterthoughts” followed by introductions and community announcements. On the first Sunday of each month there is a potluck.
I’ve struggled this week to feel at home in Costa Rica and have also been a bit ill, which is one reason why getting to meeting this morning felt like an accomplishment in and of itself. The night before, I had been unsure if I would be ready for the trek. We arrived late, and the silent prayer was underway. Across from me, a woman sat yoga-style with her legs crossed on the bench. Her eyes were closed and she a lovely expression of peace and joy on her face. Her serenity made me smile, and my troubles melted.
Then little Odelia (a beautiful blonde toddler) began fidgeting and making noise. Her presence inspired me to pray for the children of the world. The Bible verse, “All thy children shall be taught of the Lord and great shall be the peace of thy children,” became the launch pad for my prayers which quickly expanded to include all mankind as children of God—free from fear or disease of any kind.
It was a lovely holy meeting. We’ll be there in time for hymns next week, but today we were cleaning house for after church company—a potluck for other new “international” families. The kids enjoyed soccer, hacky sack and wii while the adults shared stories of how we all got here and what treasures, challenges, and tips we’ve discovered in our few days here.
I think many of us will share the same Sunday after meeting routine: check out books from the Friends’ (Quaker) Library (today I got Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince for Heidi and Lincoln to reread before they see the movie and picked out an Alice Hoffman novel for myself) and then stop at the Cheese Factory to pick up dairy products for the week including milk that comes out of a spicket (you bring your own container)—very delicious.
It has been a lovely day of healing, fellowship, new friends, AND on the way home from meeting, I saw three white faced monkeys up in the trees. My first monkeys!
Thank You God for this day.
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Initial Suprises of Life in Costa Rica
I know we’re not in St. Louis anymore when…
• The grocery store runs out of peanut butter (and when it does come in, it’s tiny jars of crunchy)
• The entire frozen foods section is only about 12 feet long
• Some taxis don’t have seat belts
• You can’t flush toilet paper in your bathrooms.
• None of the sinks in the house have hot water (you have to boil water for dishes; however, the showers do have individual instant water heaters).
• Electrical outlets aren’t grounded (Crocs and hot pads help avoid shocks while cooking).
• There isn’t a single closet to keep your clothes in.
Actually, other than the safety hazards, I appreciate (most of the time) these daily reminders that we are in another country and that in the United States we take so much for granted.
Things I’m enjoying about Costa Rica…
• The bright colors—interior and exterior walls (our house is white, but it has a bright blue roof and fence; the master bedroom walls are a pale lavender and the living room a light green), fabrics used in decorating (our comforters are so cheerful), the yellow little pitcher and cups we bought and the blue glass bowls, and even the hot pink or blue striped grocery bags (they’re really strong too).
• The gorgeous flowers growing everywhere including our own yard—lilies and hydrangeas (we’ve enjoyed fresh rosemary and lemons from the yard too).
• Waking up to roosters crowing and listening to the bell birds “sing” all day with their unusual clanking and squeaky hinge sounds.
• The sound of rain on our tin roof and the wind in the trees.
• The neighborhood dogs who escort us on our walks (Bogie loves having so many dog friends).
• People being so kind about my limited Spanish, and learning/using a little more of the language each day.
• The gorgeous view all the way to the Pacific Ocean seen from the Cloud Forest School and enroute to the Quaker meeting.
• Delight in finally getting something to “go through” on the internet (my apologies to all who haven’t gotten personal responses to comments and emails, but thank you so much for them!).
• The grocery store runs out of peanut butter (and when it does come in, it’s tiny jars of crunchy)
• The entire frozen foods section is only about 12 feet long
• Some taxis don’t have seat belts
• You can’t flush toilet paper in your bathrooms.
• None of the sinks in the house have hot water (you have to boil water for dishes; however, the showers do have individual instant water heaters).
• Electrical outlets aren’t grounded (Crocs and hot pads help avoid shocks while cooking).
• There isn’t a single closet to keep your clothes in.
Actually, other than the safety hazards, I appreciate (most of the time) these daily reminders that we are in another country and that in the United States we take so much for granted.
Things I’m enjoying about Costa Rica…
• The bright colors—interior and exterior walls (our house is white, but it has a bright blue roof and fence; the master bedroom walls are a pale lavender and the living room a light green), fabrics used in decorating (our comforters are so cheerful), the yellow little pitcher and cups we bought and the blue glass bowls, and even the hot pink or blue striped grocery bags (they’re really strong too).
• The gorgeous flowers growing everywhere including our own yard—lilies and hydrangeas (we’ve enjoyed fresh rosemary and lemons from the yard too).
• Waking up to roosters crowing and listening to the bell birds “sing” all day with their unusual clanking and squeaky hinge sounds.
• The sound of rain on our tin roof and the wind in the trees.
• The neighborhood dogs who escort us on our walks (Bogie loves having so many dog friends).
• People being so kind about my limited Spanish, and learning/using a little more of the language each day.
• The gorgeous view all the way to the Pacific Ocean seen from the Cloud Forest School and enroute to the Quaker meeting.
• Delight in finally getting something to “go through” on the internet (my apologies to all who haven’t gotten personal responses to comments and emails, but thank you so much for them!).
Friday, July 10, 2009
We're All Here Together
Dear Friends,
We’re here…blessed by the grace of God abundantly expressed by so many of you. Thank you to Mom, Susan, Cindy, Penny and Dave who came to the rescue when our vacuum cleaner broke the day before our departure, to Blair for helping Heidi with last minute errands and cleaning, and to John for taking care of putting on the car license plate and lawnmower oil.
And, a special thank you to all of you who prayed. I was so touched when I met a colleague in Walmart a few days before we left who said we were on her calendar for July 7th to include us in her prayers that day. And I know friends from the Lafayette Square Society were thinking about us as we travelled—especially our pets. Getting the pets here has given me unquestionable proof that God is Mind and Love and also helped me see that actions--the expressing of gratitude, trust, and obedience--are also prayers.
Our golden retriever Bogie and our cats Piko and Caleb are family and an important parts of home for us. One of my first web searches in exploring Costa Rica as a destination for our family sabbatical was researhgin travel with pets. There is no quarantine on dogs and cats entering the country, and at first glance, bringing them with us looked like it would be simple enough. Wrong.
If you have a small pet, like our cats, you pay a fee, buy the right size carrier, and can easily get a confirmed reservation on a flight. A large dog is a different story. I think I called every airline that flys to Costa Rica—some twice—trying to find a reasonable arrangement for Bogie. Continental is the only airline that flys pets as cargo in the summer, but they take great care to keep them the proper temperature, exercise them on layovers, etc.
However, July is a peak travel season to Latin America, and when I first began investigating flights, the airline policy was that pets could only fly standby. Bogie would fly from St. Louis to Houston and then to Costa Rica. There was one only one flight to Houston each day with the properly sized and air-conditioned cargo bay and because of rules pertaining to connecting flights, Bogie would have to stay overnight at Continental’s kennels in Houston. We couldn’t get Bogie on the standby list until 3 days before his flight, and even then he could only fly if the flights were less than 75% full. It could take several for days for there to be a space for each leg of his journey. But at least there was a way to get Bogie to Costa Rica; he likes being with other dogs at kennels, and we knew someone with a pet sitting service that would be willing to take Bogie to the airport day after day in St. Louis, if needed. So we booked ourselves on a less expensive airlines and trusted that somehow the “Red Sea” of regulations would part for Bogie.
In mid-April, I decided to call back to get a clear definition of “3 days ahead of time,” and found that the rules had just changed in our favor. Continental was now guaranteeing one cargo pet per flight. No more standby, and you could make the reservation beginning 12 days ahead of time. Yeah! This was progress. (In fact as the rules now stand, you must make the reservation more than 3 days ahead of time.)
I knew that Piko and possibly Bogie needed to have their teeth cleaned before we went to Costa Rica, and made an appointment for the vet to look at them the afternoon after our Upper School graduation. The final week of school is crazy, and I kept wondering why I had made the appointment for that day, but I was too busy to call and change it. That morning, I searched online for “rules for taking pets to Costa Rica” so I could print the shot requirements for the vet in preparing for a future appointment. In addition to printing the official regulations from the embassy website, I also looked at several personal postings and learned that while the embassy regulations say that all shots need to be given less than 30 days before travel, rabies shots have to be more than 30 days (a rule the airlines later confirmed to be true). So, all the pets got their rabies shots that day—had the appointment been the next week, it would had been too late.
The personal postings I read also raised other questions which led to another timely call to the airlines. Once again the rules had recently changed. I was able to make Bogie’s reservation right then (not just 12 days out); however, if you didn’t fly with your pet, you were required to hire a broker (approximately $600 on top of the airfare) to coordinate the pet’s travel with the airlines, and import fees had increased to $250. So we changed Mike’s reservation to have him fly with Bogie (who could now get a connecting flight the same day) and swallowed the extra fees, grateful that we knew Bogie had a space on the desired day.
From the personal postings we also learned that we needed to have the pets’ certificates of health stamped by a USDA vet in Jefferson City, Missouri—another important detail not clear on the embassy site or in information from the airlines or vet.
The story doesn’t end there. (I’m sorry this is long, but each step is such wonderful proof to me of God’s care.) We took Piko in for his teeth cleaning (Bogie ended up not needing it), and the day after he came home, one of his eyes was infected. The ointment the vet gave us wasn’t doing any good, and the day for the pets’ exams for the certificates of health was drawing near; so we decided to stop using the medicine and asked a Christian Science practitioner to treat the situation with prayer. I really struggled with faith and trust. The morning of our vet visit, the Bible verse, “He performeth the thing that is appointed for me” spoke to me in a new way-- God would perform the appointment for Piko. Although Piko’s third eyelid still covered a portion of his eye, it was not at all inflamed, and we received the necessary certificate of health.
We also asked a Christian Science practitioner (THANK YOU!) to pray with us for the pets during our flights. Piko did great the whole time. Knowing that Caleb didn’t like being in his crate and wanting to be kind to fellow travelers, the vet had given us a pill to calm him. It didn’t work. Caleb meowed and pawed to get out of the crate during the whole flight. Fortunately, he was underneath a family with loud children, and his meows weren’t noticed much by others, but he clearly wasn’t a happy camper. So, I checked in with the practitioner between flights, and she reminded us that Caleb hadn’t left the kingdom of heaven and agreed to continue praying. He was calm and only meowed a few times on the next flight as well as on our four hour van trip to Monteverde the next day. For Caleb—truly amazing!
Bogie’s adventures continued the day of travel too. The airlines had told us that there needed to be three inches of clearance in the crate above his head, and we’d measured it carefully. (And a bigger crate wouldn’t fit on the small plane between St. Louis and Houston anyway.) But when Mike got to the airport, they were concerned that the crate was too small and weren’t going to let Bogie fly. Finally they agreed to take out the crate pad and let Bogie fly. Then, their flight out of Houston was delayed. The delay, however, turned out to be ablessing. Because they arrived in Costa Rica so late, Bogie was delivered to the baggage area rather than to the cargo facility. As baggage, we didn’t have to pay the anticipated import fees. Like the cats, Bogie was treated as a family member, not a commodity.
The pets seem to appreciate how special it is to be here with us. They love the cooler weather. In our smaller, one story house it is easier to keep an eye on all of us. Tico dogs usually live outdoors and are very sociable. Bogie has made many new friends—the trio of dogs that greets us on our walks and the two that share our back yard fence. Bogie has accompanied us to outdoor cafes and loves rolling in our grass.
We’re all here together…and you’re here with us in our hearts.
Gracias amigos,
Maria
We’re here…blessed by the grace of God abundantly expressed by so many of you. Thank you to Mom, Susan, Cindy, Penny and Dave who came to the rescue when our vacuum cleaner broke the day before our departure, to Blair for helping Heidi with last minute errands and cleaning, and to John for taking care of putting on the car license plate and lawnmower oil.
And, a special thank you to all of you who prayed. I was so touched when I met a colleague in Walmart a few days before we left who said we were on her calendar for July 7th to include us in her prayers that day. And I know friends from the Lafayette Square Society were thinking about us as we travelled—especially our pets. Getting the pets here has given me unquestionable proof that God is Mind and Love and also helped me see that actions--the expressing of gratitude, trust, and obedience--are also prayers.
Our golden retriever Bogie and our cats Piko and Caleb are family and an important parts of home for us. One of my first web searches in exploring Costa Rica as a destination for our family sabbatical was researhgin travel with pets. There is no quarantine on dogs and cats entering the country, and at first glance, bringing them with us looked like it would be simple enough. Wrong.
If you have a small pet, like our cats, you pay a fee, buy the right size carrier, and can easily get a confirmed reservation on a flight. A large dog is a different story. I think I called every airline that flys to Costa Rica—some twice—trying to find a reasonable arrangement for Bogie. Continental is the only airline that flys pets as cargo in the summer, but they take great care to keep them the proper temperature, exercise them on layovers, etc.
However, July is a peak travel season to Latin America, and when I first began investigating flights, the airline policy was that pets could only fly standby. Bogie would fly from St. Louis to Houston and then to Costa Rica. There was one only one flight to Houston each day with the properly sized and air-conditioned cargo bay and because of rules pertaining to connecting flights, Bogie would have to stay overnight at Continental’s kennels in Houston. We couldn’t get Bogie on the standby list until 3 days before his flight, and even then he could only fly if the flights were less than 75% full. It could take several for days for there to be a space for each leg of his journey. But at least there was a way to get Bogie to Costa Rica; he likes being with other dogs at kennels, and we knew someone with a pet sitting service that would be willing to take Bogie to the airport day after day in St. Louis, if needed. So we booked ourselves on a less expensive airlines and trusted that somehow the “Red Sea” of regulations would part for Bogie.
In mid-April, I decided to call back to get a clear definition of “3 days ahead of time,” and found that the rules had just changed in our favor. Continental was now guaranteeing one cargo pet per flight. No more standby, and you could make the reservation beginning 12 days ahead of time. Yeah! This was progress. (In fact as the rules now stand, you must make the reservation more than 3 days ahead of time.)
I knew that Piko and possibly Bogie needed to have their teeth cleaned before we went to Costa Rica, and made an appointment for the vet to look at them the afternoon after our Upper School graduation. The final week of school is crazy, and I kept wondering why I had made the appointment for that day, but I was too busy to call and change it. That morning, I searched online for “rules for taking pets to Costa Rica” so I could print the shot requirements for the vet in preparing for a future appointment. In addition to printing the official regulations from the embassy website, I also looked at several personal postings and learned that while the embassy regulations say that all shots need to be given less than 30 days before travel, rabies shots have to be more than 30 days (a rule the airlines later confirmed to be true). So, all the pets got their rabies shots that day—had the appointment been the next week, it would had been too late.
The personal postings I read also raised other questions which led to another timely call to the airlines. Once again the rules had recently changed. I was able to make Bogie’s reservation right then (not just 12 days out); however, if you didn’t fly with your pet, you were required to hire a broker (approximately $600 on top of the airfare) to coordinate the pet’s travel with the airlines, and import fees had increased to $250. So we changed Mike’s reservation to have him fly with Bogie (who could now get a connecting flight the same day) and swallowed the extra fees, grateful that we knew Bogie had a space on the desired day.
From the personal postings we also learned that we needed to have the pets’ certificates of health stamped by a USDA vet in Jefferson City, Missouri—another important detail not clear on the embassy site or in information from the airlines or vet.
The story doesn’t end there. (I’m sorry this is long, but each step is such wonderful proof to me of God’s care.) We took Piko in for his teeth cleaning (Bogie ended up not needing it), and the day after he came home, one of his eyes was infected. The ointment the vet gave us wasn’t doing any good, and the day for the pets’ exams for the certificates of health was drawing near; so we decided to stop using the medicine and asked a Christian Science practitioner to treat the situation with prayer. I really struggled with faith and trust. The morning of our vet visit, the Bible verse, “He performeth the thing that is appointed for me” spoke to me in a new way-- God would perform the appointment for Piko. Although Piko’s third eyelid still covered a portion of his eye, it was not at all inflamed, and we received the necessary certificate of health.
We also asked a Christian Science practitioner (THANK YOU!) to pray with us for the pets during our flights. Piko did great the whole time. Knowing that Caleb didn’t like being in his crate and wanting to be kind to fellow travelers, the vet had given us a pill to calm him. It didn’t work. Caleb meowed and pawed to get out of the crate during the whole flight. Fortunately, he was underneath a family with loud children, and his meows weren’t noticed much by others, but he clearly wasn’t a happy camper. So, I checked in with the practitioner between flights, and she reminded us that Caleb hadn’t left the kingdom of heaven and agreed to continue praying. He was calm and only meowed a few times on the next flight as well as on our four hour van trip to Monteverde the next day. For Caleb—truly amazing!
Bogie’s adventures continued the day of travel too. The airlines had told us that there needed to be three inches of clearance in the crate above his head, and we’d measured it carefully. (And a bigger crate wouldn’t fit on the small plane between St. Louis and Houston anyway.) But when Mike got to the airport, they were concerned that the crate was too small and weren’t going to let Bogie fly. Finally they agreed to take out the crate pad and let Bogie fly. Then, their flight out of Houston was delayed. The delay, however, turned out to be ablessing. Because they arrived in Costa Rica so late, Bogie was delivered to the baggage area rather than to the cargo facility. As baggage, we didn’t have to pay the anticipated import fees. Like the cats, Bogie was treated as a family member, not a commodity.
The pets seem to appreciate how special it is to be here with us. They love the cooler weather. In our smaller, one story house it is easier to keep an eye on all of us. Tico dogs usually live outdoors and are very sociable. Bogie has made many new friends—the trio of dogs that greets us on our walks and the two that share our back yard fence. Bogie has accompanied us to outdoor cafes and loves rolling in our grass.
We’re all here together…and you’re here with us in our hearts.
Gracias amigos,
Maria
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Costa Rica...How It Began
Dear Kate,
In a few days, you leave for camp, and just over two weeks later, our family moves to Costa Rica for a year--an adventure that actually grew out of insights you shared from another drive to Colorado this past October (see Kate's Oct. 28, 2oo8 post "Thank you for hearing me...." at http://stoneriverstudio.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html). As you were driving, a friend called on your cell phone and commented on how happy you sounded. Reflecting on the conversation, you talked about hearing your voice in a figurative concert hall...in an atmosphere where you felt "free of past impressions or future expectations."
Last fall was challenging for Heidi. In her search for who she is and what she believes in , she was finding it difficult to live in our house on the campus of a conservative Christian school. Even though she was no longer a student there, she didn't feel like she had much mental breathing space. After your comments, I found my heart longing for Heidi to find a Carnegie Hall in which to hear the voice of her soul.
You have often written about God planting desires in our heart...and then answering them. A few days later, I got the clear message that, "You won't have to move off campus to meet Heidi's needs." "OK God," I replied. "I look forward to hearing what you have in mind." I didn't have to wait long.
Within a week, the outline of a family sabbatical to Monteverde was in place. Prior to this, we'd never seriously talked about living abroad, and none of us had ever been to Costa Rica. But Mike had occasionally mentioned his desire to travel as a family with a community service focus. I looked at several international community service websites and then investigated Christian Science schools abroad as possibilities for Lincoln (I knew we'd need to balance his love of home with Heidi's spirit of adventure), but nothing clicked until I glanced at a Monteverde Conservation League newsletter in my inbox. Several of Lincoln's classmates had traveled to Costa Rica; so the idea wasn't completely foreign to him. A web search quickly led me to two bilingual schools in Monteverde, and I learned that in this community founded by pacifist Quakers in thd 50s, you can get by with minimal Spanish--a good thing since Mike and I are just beginning to learn the language. And Costa Rica has no quarantine on pets. (Yes, the dog and cats are going with us.)
For now, I'll keep the story short and skip most of the details between last October and today. The school where we work has generously granted Michael and me leaves of absence for next year. The kids have been accepted at the Cloud Forest School (http.www.cloudforestschool.org) where we will be one of ten international families at the mostly native Tico school. We've arranged to rent out our house in St. Louis and are busy packing.
While the trip may have started out as an answer to our prayers for Heidi, we now see how in different ways it promises a needed practice room and concert hall for each family member--a place to learn more about who we are as individuals, a family, and as part of a global community. It is an anwered prayer for all of us.
I'll be thinking of you while you are at camp and will miss being a bunkhouse mom there this summer. As you look out at your snow capped peaks, I will gaze out over Costa Rica's tree-canopied mountain tops to the Pacific Ocean and hear the spirit of your voice in the wind.
Happy trails!
With gratitude and love,
Maria
In a few days, you leave for camp, and just over two weeks later, our family moves to Costa Rica for a year--an adventure that actually grew out of insights you shared from another drive to Colorado this past October (see Kate's Oct. 28, 2oo8 post "Thank you for hearing me...." at http://stoneriverstudio.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html). As you were driving, a friend called on your cell phone and commented on how happy you sounded. Reflecting on the conversation, you talked about hearing your voice in a figurative concert hall...in an atmosphere where you felt "free of past impressions or future expectations."
Last fall was challenging for Heidi. In her search for who she is and what she believes in , she was finding it difficult to live in our house on the campus of a conservative Christian school. Even though she was no longer a student there, she didn't feel like she had much mental breathing space. After your comments, I found my heart longing for Heidi to find a Carnegie Hall in which to hear the voice of her soul.
You have often written about God planting desires in our heart...and then answering them. A few days later, I got the clear message that, "You won't have to move off campus to meet Heidi's needs." "OK God," I replied. "I look forward to hearing what you have in mind." I didn't have to wait long.
Within a week, the outline of a family sabbatical to Monteverde was in place. Prior to this, we'd never seriously talked about living abroad, and none of us had ever been to Costa Rica. But Mike had occasionally mentioned his desire to travel as a family with a community service focus. I looked at several international community service websites and then investigated Christian Science schools abroad as possibilities for Lincoln (I knew we'd need to balance his love of home with Heidi's spirit of adventure), but nothing clicked until I glanced at a Monteverde Conservation League newsletter in my inbox. Several of Lincoln's classmates had traveled to Costa Rica; so the idea wasn't completely foreign to him. A web search quickly led me to two bilingual schools in Monteverde, and I learned that in this community founded by pacifist Quakers in thd 50s, you can get by with minimal Spanish--a good thing since Mike and I are just beginning to learn the language. And Costa Rica has no quarantine on pets. (Yes, the dog and cats are going with us.)
For now, I'll keep the story short and skip most of the details between last October and today. The school where we work has generously granted Michael and me leaves of absence for next year. The kids have been accepted at the Cloud Forest School (http.www.cloudforestschool.org) where we will be one of ten international families at the mostly native Tico school. We've arranged to rent out our house in St. Louis and are busy packing.
While the trip may have started out as an answer to our prayers for Heidi, we now see how in different ways it promises a needed practice room and concert hall for each family member--a place to learn more about who we are as individuals, a family, and as part of a global community. It is an anwered prayer for all of us.
I'll be thinking of you while you are at camp and will miss being a bunkhouse mom there this summer. As you look out at your snow capped peaks, I will gaze out over Costa Rica's tree-canopied mountain tops to the Pacific Ocean and hear the spirit of your voice in the wind.
Happy trails!
With gratitude and love,
Maria
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