Thursday, April 22, 2010

22 de abril de 2010

Missing in Action

Hey people, sorry for being out of touch. The adventures continue. So far in the last 10 days I have managed to narrowly dodge disaster a number of times. I never did manage to explain my rant from 13 April, but don't worry, I'm working on a version of it that doesn't need additional explanation for the May issue of Ruckus newspaper. I'm also working on an anti-anti-panhandling rant, but I don't know if I should ask Ruckus to publish two rants at once. Does anyone know someone from Eat the State?

So I am presently hanging out in Colonia Libertad, staring wistfully at the gorgeous volcanoes that surround us here and drowning in a pool of sweat. Yes, I know, that's gross. It's terribly gross to go through, too. Today, for example, I went through three shirts. I am getting more accustomed to the environment, though; now, when mosquitoes bite, my bites don't swell up and excruciate me. Of course, I have been using a fair amount of cortisone and DEET. Yes, I know, chemicals are awful, but I have discovered that I am not above using them in certain situations. Of course, finding the construction materials to repair this house adequately would be a much better option, but I honestly wouldn't even know where to start. Probably with the failing concrete on the southern wall and the broken windowpane in my room.

People keep asking if I'm going to have a girlfriend while I'm here. This is a typical tico conversation topic. Even the people who have long-term partners and/or spouses often make jokes about who they want to be with. I am, of course, modest to a fault and so I'm holding out on them. But I'm going to have to learn the banter somehow. Flirting is part and parcel of this culture, and as long as it's just flirting, it doesn't seem like anything's off limits. People accept that risqué comments are fair play, giving rise to the expression "él que se enoja, pierde"--the one who gets angry loses.

The community is a little shocked by my agnosticism. Yes, there it is in writing, my agnosticism. It's hard for them to understand how I can be so doubtful and yet know so much about religion. I don't blame them, I've been wrestling with the same question for years. Nobody seems to mind, though. It's actually nice because it reminds me of the days when agnosticism would have shocked me. It was hard for me to imagine a world without a god when my world was still relatively small. As I began to fill my head with various philisophies and scientific observations, the concept of divinity seemed ever further out of reach. I suppose that from a biblical perspective, this could represent a form of idol worship, whereas from a secular perspective it might tend to reinforce the concept that spiritual beliefs are a replacement for empirical knowledge. Of course, traditional ecological knowledge usually manifests in spiritual form even though it embodies the real-world experiments of multiple generations. Maybe this means that Nietzsche was right, and that religious beliefs are reserved for the masses, while exceptional people must make and follow their own code. But what if those who think they can make their own code suffer the same fate as Raskolnikov did in Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment? I digress.

The first few weeks here have definitely been somewhat Augustinian, but thank the Lord, I've survived. I have a great relationship with the children and teenagers in town. Most of the adults are pretty nice too, but a lot of them seem skeptical. I don't blame them. I have definitely come to appreciate a lot of things about my gringo lifestyle since coming here. Just as the rainforest of Ecuador taught me that I am not a shaman, living here in the country has definitely shown me what a city boy I am. Aside from this house (in which the refrigerator is snoring and the toilet is whispering), I have missed being able to feed my constant addiction to high-speed technologies and I have missed having more than just Snickers bars to choose from in the junk food section of the store. I miss my cars. I know, it's terrible, but I do. I feel like I don't have much freedom of movement here, even though I have been taking day trips all over the countryside. I miss fans. As soon as I find a good fan, I am going to chant nam myoho renge kyo ten times.

Most of all, I miss the people back home and our little everyday interactions. It's amazing how isolated you can feel after a few weeks of not having a drinking buddy, or an activist group, or some old friends, or just a bunch of rowdy pro-union folk to hang around. Of course, isolation can bring solace as well, and I have definitely had my fair share of thinking time lately. I've been playing a lot more guitar and reading much less than I expected. I've been spending a lot of time teaching. Today, for example, I started teaching at 8 in the morning and finally finished at 7 at night. Granted, there was a two and a half hour break in there, but that's still nine and a half hours of giving classes. There is definitely a need for me here, and that feels good. The smiles of the students are the only payment I require.

I'm off to bed--it's really late here, considering most people are up and around by 6--but I look forward to posting more soon. Hopefully I'll find a connection where I can upload some pictures. My posts should get more detailed now that I am moving more quickly through the transitional period and becoming more in tune with my surroundings.

From Colonia Libertad,

Chaim S. Eliyah

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

13 de abril de 2010

Blog Update

I think we can all agree that sexism is an ugly thing. At least, I would like to believe that anti-sexism is one of our values as a society. I have just had my second life experience in which my writing has affected someone else gravely. This should not have been the case, as I did not relate anything that could have been used against another person by the patriarchal inquisition; but naturally, as a power structure, patriarchy does not require logic. It only requires two participants who are involved for their own reasons.

Friendship, I suppose, is also a power structure. But it seems to me that friendship involves a great deal of justice, whereas I have come to see patriarchy as being founded in the emotional insecurity of monads defined as men, who use their socioeconomic privileges to trap and contain another human being for their own emotional security. Ironically, "great" men in our society are painted as stoic and strong. Yet I fail to see anyone who lacks integrity and who uses, in Roddenberry's words, "power without constructive purpose," as strong.

I hope one day we all wake up and realize how patriarchy traps and seeks to define and delimit us. I hope we bring it crashing down and that we cheer in waves at the final destruction of an archaic self-imposed imprisonment. Until then, however, I am headed back to the Colonia to teach my students.

From San José,

Chaim S. Eliyah

Monday, April 12, 2010

12 de abril de 2010

The Less-Than-Holy Week

Picking up again with last weekend, I have to say that I have really been laying some rubber on the road and doing less teaching than I expected. Part of this has to do with my reaction the environment of Colonia Libertad--i.e., bugs (to which I am allergic) and heat (pant, pant)--and part of it has to do with the general state of disorder in that community. I can definitely see the need there for exigence.

I left Liberia after the Semana Santa and headed back to Colonia Libertad. I was a little disoriented once I got there. I had checked over the emails from the Project Ganas mastermind, Sara, and it seemed to me that her idea had been that I was supposed to stay in the teachers' house by the school. The two teachers staying in the house by the school, however, insisted that I was supposed to stay at the house of the schoolmaster's mother-in-law. So I headed up to Finca La Anita to talk with Pablo and Ana and to see if they knew anything. Pablo, as nicely as possible, said that he was troubled by the whole situation, that he had a business to run, and that he would be willing to meet with me the next night to work everything out once and for all.

I stayed the night at the house of the schoolmaster's mother-in-law. She seemed a little begrudging about the whole situation, and I suffered--I counted--28 mosquito bites that night. The next day, I taught a class to the first graders and tracked down Mayra, the schoolmaster. She concurred that I was supposed to be staying at her mother-in-law's house, and told me that that was what had been discussed with Sara. I had my doubts. That night, when we met with Pablo, he essentially pleaded with Mayra and the other teachers on my behalf, pointing out that all I needed was a decent room and that I was in fact there working as a volunteer. Somehow, it came about that Isabel, the kindergarten teacher, went to stay with her mother-in-law and I stayed at the teachers' house for the next two nights.

I worked the next day with a few students who were interested in learning about computers. I taught them the anatomy of the desktop computer and showed them how to work a mouse and a keyboard. They typed some sentences for me about Colonia Libertad. The students have a great desire for learning, which is why I was a little perturbed the next day when I noticed that the students were getting out of school between 12 and 1 p.m. everyday (they go to school at 7:30 a.m.). I also began to feel more and more like an outsider. I really was enjoying eating the food that everyone cooked for me, but somehow without a monetary exchange involved, I felt less than self-sufficient. Whatsmore, I noticed myself unable to catch the drift of a lot of the conversations. I decided that since I had tickets for the Guns N' Roses concert on Friday anyway, maybe it was time to check out and head for more familiar territory. Yes, that means Heredia.

I stayed the night again in San José. I've become quite fond of a particular room at the Molino Rojo hostel. It's a bit on the expensive side, but there are very few bugs and it has a nice atmosphere. It's a good place for writing blogs, you might say. Eventually, I'll have to find other San José digs, but for the moment it can't be beat. Since it's a hostel, there's plenty of space to move around in and there are a lot of North American-style restaurants close by where they don't seem to mind gringos struggling with getting by in a different culture. It's also walking distance from La Avenida Central, which is San José's biggest shopping area, where there are a lot of little artisan bakeries and cafés mixed in.

After a long and satisfying chat session with some people back home, I had an excellent night's sleep. I ate pudding bread in the morning (which meant around 1 p.m.) and headed out for Heredia.
Heredia seemed a lot more familiar arriving in daylight. I headed towards UNA (la Universidad NAcional, the most well-renowned private university in Costa Rica) and had a late lunch at a Lebanese food joint. The cook was a druze man and we had a short conversation about Middle Eastern geography. His Spanish was exactly the kind I love--the kind learned during adulthood.

Later on, I hooked up with my friend and got settled in on zir sofa. I downloaded Appetite for Destruction on iTunes (damn not having my CDs and backups) and we started getting excited for the Guns N' Roses symphony.
The next day I headed out to walk around a bit and I found a couple of Guns N' Roses shirts, which of course I picked up. I came back to the pad in the afternoon super excited to go to the concert. I showed my friend the shirts and ze was super excited too.

Much to my dismay, however, zir friends informed me that the concert had been--you guessed it--cancelled.


OK. Near as I can tell, what happened is that some idiotic stagehand, or a group of them called 28 Productions, tried to build a professional rock concert setup on top of wood that had been soaked through by rain in the preceding days. Why anyone would do this when working for a professional rock band, I have no idea, but they did it, and the stage collapsed when they tried to put the band's super-size LCD screen on it. From what I understand, Guns N' Roses didn't even make it to sound check. Naturally, the Ministry of Health wouldn't let the concert go forward with the stage in an unsafe condition.

I was bummed out. Guns N' Roses was the first rock band I ever listened to, thanks to Josh F. from Lynnwood, and I had never gotten to see them in concert. (Yes, I know, Axl Rose is the only original member left.) I moped around zir pad, trying in vain to find the inspiration for a blog post, and finally crashed out. In the morning I headed for the swimming pool to relieve some stress. I was a little disappointed with my performance, though. I guess the air here is different or something. Several hours later, I realized that I had forgotten to put sunscreen on.

So that's been the week, I am still recovering from one of the worst sunburns I have had in years and still waiting for Guns N' Roses to come rock my world. Now if I can just find where I put the number for the school and let them know what's going on, everything will be groovy. Catch you this weekend!

Saturday, April 3, 2010

3 de abril de 2010

The Holy Week
(will it ever end?)


Sunday

Hola compañer@s. The journey out of Heredia went as well as can be expected. On Sunday, reeling from my $52.00 two-night stay in Hotel Heredia, I decided to get out of there as soon as possible. I caught an early bus to San José and went exploring, hoping to find some recognizable landmark that would tell me where the correct bus station was (there are about 14 of them). After walking around San José for half a day, I finally settled down at a little place called the Molino Rojo. I was too tired to argue about price, so I graciously paid the ¢5500 (about $11.00) and put my blistered feet up in a hammock (and, later, a bed).

Monday


I took off at a lively 4:45 am to go catch the bus to Bagaces and Aguas Claras. Lo and behold, this bus actually had to be paid for in advance--something I only figured out once someone told me that I was in her seat. Later on I was grateful for the advice, as a good 20 people were standing in the aisle. This was well worth the
¢3050 ($6.10) ticket. I dozed most of the way to Aguas Claras and immediately hopped the bus for Colonia Libertad (which, in case you ever make it up that way, costs ¢700 [$1.40]). Once there, I quickly walked to the finca (ranch), hoping to catch the 1:00 bus after grabbing my debit card and some extra cash.

I ran into Pablo, the husband of Ana and
co-owner of La Anita ranch. He was honestly about the nicest Costa Rican guy I've met so far. He was very concerned about my living situation and told me that he would help me work it out. He let me into the "Love Shack" (a house where people who work on the farm often stay) and I got a couple changes of clothes and a new towel. Unfortunately, I discovered that I had left my much-loved pink towel at the Hotel Heredia. So much for the wise advice of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Feeling somewhat refreshed, I took off without further adieu and walked as quickly as my aching feet would allow toward the bus stop.

The bus, of course, had already gone--for the last time that day, as it would happen--by the time I got there. I asked the two policemen across from the school if they had actually seen the bus leave (not that you can miss a large beige bus in Colonia Libertad) and they answered in the affirmative. I asked them if it was indeed the last bus, and once again they concurred that there were now no other buses to be leaving from Colonia Libertad. I thanked them for the reality check and headed on my way--on foot.

About three and a half minutes exactly after I started heading out, a delivery truck that was headed my way came into view. I hailed the driver, who graciously stopped, put all of the things that were strewn about the passenger seat back into the broken glove box, put the glove box itself back into one piece, and invited me in. I asked him how far he was going and he said Aguas Claras. Life was looking positive. He drove the old trusty Isuzu like Mario Andretti might have driven a rental car and I was at the bus stop in no time. We passed the beige bus on the way and I managed to suppress a snicker of joy. I was so appreciative of his lifesaving attitude that I laid ¢5000 on the cab seat before getting out. He tried to hand it back to me but I refused. When I can, I like to provide incentives for random acts of kindness.

The rest of the trip to Liberia was fairly uneventful, although I did have to go through Bagaces to get there. Once in Liberia I looked around and saw a couple of different signs for hotels. After deciding that the "hospedaje" closest to the bus station was a little over-priced, I dragged my feet up to the Hotel Guanacaste ($11.00/night) and settled in with the ants. The Guanacaste had a great wireless connection and was the temporary residence of a whole host of interesting world travelers, so it seemed like a great place to spend a few nights.

The first night, I had dinner with the Project Ganas director, Sara, and her partner, and said goodbye to them and thanked them for the opportunity of teaching here. I met two young Belgian ladies, an Australian mate and a tico mae. We got into a long discussion involving "typical" Americans, geography, and languages that lasted several beers. When the conversation degenerated into an academic argument about the causes of the two Great Wars, we decided to head over to the bar next door to see what was going on there. A few beers afterwards, I had been characterized as emasculated for failing to invoke chauvinism in my interaction with the waitress. Go figure.

Tuesday

The next day involved a good amount of recovery. I chastised myself for drinking beer, promised to never drink beer again--all of the usual comments one makes to oneself when recovering from hops. The next night, however, I was at it again, this time with two American girls who had been traveling through Central America learning about geography and Spanish. After a while we started talking with a couple of ticos, and after a few beers we decided to drive around in a car and smoke. The two girls said it was probably the best last night they could have asked for. Awesome.
Wednesday

The next day was almost wholly uneventful. I was supposed to go to the beach, but it didn't work out so well. I stayed in my hotel room for most of the day, which convinced me that it was probably time for a change in hotels. It's a little hard to be living around bugs and all that in a hot, stuffy cramped room with no light. Great for a couple of nights, but not for a week's stay.

Thursday


So the next day I packed up, turned in the key and headed off to Hotel Wilson ($28.00/night). Though considerably more expensive, the Wilson has elegant rooms and a staff much more disposed to being friendly and complaisant. Still a little bit worn down from the dreariness of my Guanacaste digs, I settled into my room, unpacked my backpack and started watching TV (yes, I know--quite out-of-character). The only thing on was a program about the patriarchs of Israel (or, depending on your perspective, of Islam), and so I shut off the TV and turned to Skype for help. Shout-outs to sloth, purple and metuka for cheering me up. Also, thanks to Mario for taking me to (insert name of corporate fast food joint here).

Friday

I woke up in a good mood after a good sleep on a good bed in a good hotel with great lighting. I also had a pretty good morning. I saw the procession forming for Good Friday on my way to go say hi to my tico friend at the Guanacaste. He and I watched the procession go by, talked about agnosticism, and then took a walk around town. We parted ways at the central park and I came back to the hotel. For some strange reason, I ended up taking an extremely long nap, which is why I am still up at three in the morning writing this post. Blah. Why do I insist on doing this to myself?

Tomorrow, things like buses should start operating again. Unless disaster befalls me, I'm probably going to head to the beach and come back here to the Wilson for one more night. Henceforth I should be making these posts on weekends when I travel out of the Colonia. We'll see how long it takes me to set up some kind of internet connection in Colonia Libertad.