Trailblazers

trailblazer |ˈtrālˌblāzər|

noun

a person who makes a new track through wild country.

• a pioneer; an innovator

As we watched the white bus marked TURISMO roll away down our dusty dirt road last Monday morning, we couldn’t help but think how odd the word seemed. Technically the 12 boys and their three teachers from North Carolina, who had just spent four days visiting our community, were tourists. But could tourists make such a profound impact on so many people?

After months of preparation that involved finding and coaching 12 host families, setting up work projects, finding tools, and organizing workshops with local families and schools, the North Carolina boys showed up on March 22 fresh from the city and ready for a rural experience. The experience they were about to have would not only change their outlook on Costa Rica, but would also leave a lasting impression on many members of our community.

These eighth-grade students from Asheville, N.C., attend French Broad River Academy, a private middle school with an emphasis on river sports, service, and global learning. During their stay here, each one lived with a host family that was eager to share and teach them about life in this country. For the majority of the community members who hosted a student, this was their first experience doing so. Overall, their biggest concern was what to feed these American boys — strange creatures who on TV appear to eat only Corn Flakes, hot dogs and hamburgers. Fortunately, I was able to sort that out with them pretty easily.

While they were here, we took advantage of their strength and cooperative skills and helped our local elementary school principal build trails through the jungle behind the school. It was pretty incredible to see how quickly the principal’s vision — marked by a piece of red string strung through the rainforest — was transformed into a 3 to 4-foot wide, river rock-lined, gravel-filled trail. The boys, their teachers, the principal and her family and friends, and Kevin and I worked hard, got dirty, and hauled a bunch of rocks. All in all we tossed and carried, assembly-line style, 2,094 good-sized rocks from the riverbed up to the trails. ¡Qué montón!

We found other, less grueling things for them to do too. We partnered the boys with the kindergarteners and first graders for reading buddy sessions that thrilled the kids. We played team-building games on the soccer field and learned there’s nothing like a good game of Monarch (a cousin of dodge ball that involves throwing balls to try to tag people running frantically around the field) to break the ice. The principal prepared an amazing obstacle course for some serious, down-and-dirty competition and the boys enjoyed three exquisite typical lunches prepared with love by the school cook.

Kevin and I arranged four cultural workshops for the kids to get to know the “real” Sarapiquí as well. On Day 3, Nidia and Karen (our current host mom and sister) took the group into the field behind the house to pick tiquisque, a tasty tuber, plantains, and yucca. The boys spent an hour chopping those and other local vegetables to put into a soup they would later eat for lunch, the typical and delicious olla de carne.

For part two of the workshop extravaganza, we visited Otoya Elementary where the teacher worked with many of his students to prepare two fun Costa Rican typical dances in full traditional dress. Then it was the North Carolina boys’ turn to learn; the teacher’s wife lined them up and taught them the steps they would need to perform those dances on their own. There was a lot of silliness and a fair amount of hesitation, but the boys did have fun. And the Otoya students and parents got a kick out of watching them try!

In the afternoon, we visited a local friend and heart of palm farmer’s house for a lesson on harvesting and cooking the strange white vegetable. The cutting of the spiny plant is always done with a sharp machete and a chain-reinforced leather glove, so you can imagine the boys’ fascination with the process. While the heart of palm was cooking, we also squeezed our own cane juice straight from the sugar cane using a cool extractor that looks a lot like a medieval instrument of torture. Fortunately, everyone kept all of their fingers and enjoyed the tasty treats afterwards.

Finally, our local marimba player gave the group an impressive concert and taught them all about making and playing the wooden xylophone-type instrument. It was a long and tiring day in the hot sun, but the boys learned a lot and the community members got to showcase their talents in a way they’ve never done before. Watching our neighbors so graciously open their homes to those boys and take the time to prepare such interesting lessons was by far the best part of the experience for Kevin and me.

Then the boys left with a bang. We threw a thank-you party for all of the host families, complete with sports, games, good food, music and dancing. The families said their teary goodbyes to the boys early the next morning, and then they were gone. The whole experience lasted only 4 days, but our local friends and neighbors are still talking about how much fun they had with those boys. They continue to ask us when they’ll come back, and it’s kind of sad to think they probably never will.

Maybe that’s not the point, though. The beautiful trail the boys created will serve as a constant reminder of the work they did here, but I believe their real legacy lies in the paths they forged into the hearts and minds of the local people they touched. For the first time in our service, our two host communities of La Otoya and La Rambla came together with a single goal: to show their guests the best they could offer. In doing so, they formed relationships they would otherwise never have experienced.  And if there is one thing we’ve learned from our Peace Corps service thus far, it’s that the relationships we build — not the work we do or the things we construct — are what really matter the most.