While I had a blast and a half on spring break, there were still occasions that reminded us that we are in a tiny developing country, and made us long for the convenience of a city. I should specify: the convenience of our planned-out, tightly-scheduled, food-provided program.
First of all, mild impatience turned to heat-exacerbated frustration while Ryan and I were waiting on the bus back to San José. He needed to be back at the airport by noon, and we sat on the bus, still 90 km from the city, from 9:15 to 10:15, with no knowledge of why we had stopped.
Luckily we made it on time, but the problem turned out to be a broken-down truck blocking the small, winding road – highways would really speed up these unnecessarily long bus rides. Then again, as our program has drilled into our heads, who knows if a highway would end up damaging the surrounding ecosystems hugging the roads.
However, another more troubling problem was the lack of emergency medical attention that was found when one of our friends, sick with dehydration and likely one of those ubiquitous intestinal parasites, went up to go to the bathroom and hit her head. Thankfully she is now back to normal, and more thankfully she was not bleeding profusely or losing consciousness, because the ambulance service neglected to come after repeated calls, and there is no taxi service in Cahuita. After some heroic people pulling all-nighters to no avail, she had to wait in the clinic the next morning.
Costa Rica seems to be somewhat paradoxical in these matters – having such a well-established and accessible primary care system, but a deficient emergency response system; being the first country to legalize in-vitro fertilization, and the first country to ban it; having a woman president in a machismo culture, etc.
It’s great to see my familia Tica again – the sense of familiarity is so much more valuable in a foreign country. Returning here, despite the barbed wire and dirty streets, has an air of coming home, which is very welcome when we have been so nomadic this semester. Plus, my mama tica makes a mean omelette – hell is apparently not only freezing over but looking like Boston in February because I am developing a taste for eggs. I sense impending reverse culture shock upon my attempt to return to veganism.
Also, there’s another student from OTS in mi casa now! Tomas is from the Tropical Biology program (also from Bowdoin – what up NESCAC), and talking to him about our experiences this semester – with the same sights and the same cast of characters at the biological stations with different experiences and different interpretations – has a weird sensation of existing in parallel universes with slight differences, like their Shelbyville to our Springfield. It’s great to have another student in the house though.
I spent part of tonight talking with Carla, my mama Tica’s daughter, about a song she is teaching to her 8 year old students learning English. Something lost in translation are the words “wiggle,” “jiggle,” “waggle,” and “joggle,” things I demonstrated for her so that she could show them to her students in a song about dancing. Explaining this in Spanish was definitely much easier than trying to determine the difference between “jiggle” and “joggle.”
I’ll update later about our field trips we’ve been taking (to INCIENSA, the lab network of epidemiogical surveillance – that’s for you, Emily – to the UCR soil helminthes lab, and to Hospital Mexico!)
Hasta luego, or another phrase I like that more or less means “we’ll see each other later:” ¡Nos vemos!
Anya
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