Last Saturday, Tico 21ers left with counterparts for a four-day visit to their new communities. Because our counterpart wasn’t there, Megon and I hitched a ride to La Rambla with our program director, Kevin Brown (Yes, there are two Kevin’s in this story, so please try to follow along). The ride was quite an adventure. Once we left the main highway and followed a long dirt road, I knew we were in for a long one when Kevin stole my father’s words and said, “This is the scenic route.” But this wasn’t your ordinary scenic route. The scene was banana field after banana field after banana field.
“Ever heard of the Banana Republic?” Kevin asked me.
“Of course,” I said, hiding the fact that I was actually wearing a Banana Republic polo.
“Well, you’re in the Banana Republic,” Kevin said. “The original Banana Republic.”
Old abandoned railroad tracks that periodically cross the road are evidence of The United Fruit Company, started long ago by a Brooklyn man named Minor Keith. Without his interest in making Costa Rica the Banana Republic, who knows if the road we were traveling on would even exist today.
After scouting our site on Google Earth a few days before the trip, I knew a general whereabouts of our new community. I wasn’t exactly sure how to get there. Neither did Kevin, the program director. “Kevin,” he said, “it’s time you learn how to ask for Tico directions. Roll down your window to the next guy we pass and say “¡Oye Tío! ¿La Rambla?”
“¿Tío?” I asked. "He's not my uncle.”
Apparently in Costa Rica, you can call anyone uncle as long as they’re male and look older than you. If they’re younger, you call them primo. Same rule applies for women, but according to Kevin it’s best to call women muchacha, just to be safe.
Like a good volunteer, I followed my program director’s orders and interrupted a police officer talking to a man along side the road. “¡Oye Tíos!” I yelled. “¿La Rambla?” Silence. It took them a second to process that a gringo riding in a white SUV just talked to them in Spanish. They rattled off directions, but I was in such shock the phrase worked that I paid no attention to the directions.
I got to practice the phrase a few more times. Got lots of strange looks and some great responses. A few said, “You’re lost!” Another said, “Hmmm…with that car, you can probably get there.” But one particular man gave us the most memorable response, “La Rambla? You’re in La Rambla.” This guy thankfully helped lead us to our new house – only a few hours after our new host mother had expected us.
As for La Rambla, I’m not sure it can be considered a town, or even a village, really. It’s more like small conglomeration of a few houses, lots of farms, a little restaurant (called a soda), two elementary schools (necessitated by distance, not by number of kids) and a high school. So if you haven’t found it on the map yet, that’s why. It’s beautiful though; it’s a very tropical, moist (some might even say moisty) zone with lots of rainforest surrounding the farmland. It’ll get very hot and humid, this weekend was just perfect (the locals, though, said it was freezing).
Once our program director dropped us off, our number of Costa Rican brothers effectively doubled. We have three teenage boys: Juan (13), Diego (16) and Carlos (19). Honestly, we were a little concerned about whether or not they would accept us. Would they even want anything to do with us? As it turns out, they’re great kids. We had a fantastic time with them, going on long walks, playing Frisbee, playing Amish dice and helping them study for their finals. Our new host mother, Isolina, is very sweet and we enjoyed her company and her cooking. They’re an easygoing bunch and I think we’re going to really enjoy living there, though it won’t be easy leaving the wonderful family we’ve already grown to love in La Fila.
Our new house is simple, big enough for all of us, and clean. The kitchen table is outside, which makes for some fun meal entertainment as people walk by and the chickens search for scraps. The family owns a farm with about 80 milking cows. All of the cows are milked twice daily (by machine) and the milk is sold to Costa Rica’s milk company, Dos Pinos. Isolina knows how to make cheese and yogurt, so learning those skills is on our to-do list. The other day she made some killer hot chocolate with fresh, straight-out-of-the-utter milk. Yum.
Megon’s schools includes an environmentally-focused high school and a small elementary school next door. They are about 45 minutes away on foot. My high school in the town of Río Frío is also about 45 minutes away on foot. So needless to say, we’ll be getting bikes as soon as possible. Fortunately, there is not a hill to be found in the area, so aside from the rocky and puddly roads, getting around is relatively easy. All of the schools are beautiful though, open air and backed up against wild jungle on one side. It’s pretty amazing.
We’re back in La Fila now for our last week and a half of class, a family party Sunday and the big swear-in ceremony next Friday. We’ll be enjoying these last few precious days with our first Tica family and we’re already looking forward to the adventures we’ve got planned with them for the coming months.
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