Tengo que dejarles
Trip Start
Aug 08, 2008
1
8
42
Trip End
Oct 12, 2008
Puriscal/Santa Elena,
Costa Rica
Friday, September 5, 2008
This morning was my last visit to the old folks' home, but I couldn't bear to tell them that. On one hand, I'm relieved that I don't have to face the depressing spectacle of their decline any more; on the other, my heart aches to think that I won't see them again.
Mercedes, whose blind eyes are always squinted shut, clutched Anna's hand to his face this morning when she came around to greet him. He stroked her wrist and traced patterns on the back of her hand, inhaling her scent and trembling slightly. He did the same to me, rubbing my arm against his stubbly chin and holding on for a solid minute before I gently slipped out of his grasp. I bet the nuns don't let him do that.
Raul grinned at me from under his usual cowboy hat. That's probably what he used to be, along with many, if not most, of the men here. It makes me sad to look at their hunched shoulders, fingers knotted with arthritis, and gaunt, toothless mouths, and then imagine them in their prime.
Maria, the one who got such a kick out of my hang gliding pictures, is definitely head and shoulders above everyone else. I wonder if she feels triumphant, or lonely, or both. She often takes charge of the situation, wheeling the wheelchair users into the exercise room when we start rounding everyone up, suggesting additional exercises for everyone to do, and gathering the balls after we're done playing with them. The nurses seem to go along with her I-don't-live-here-I-just-work-here routine, and give her jobs to do.
The nursing home
Cecilia huddled over her artwork at a table in the corner, as usual. Xinia says she has schizophrenia, which makes it difficult to interact with others. As her condition has worsened, she's gone from using all her colored pencils in abstract designs, to using only red and green, to using mostly red now. But when I said hello, she responded; I complimented her on her drawing and asked if she enjoyed it, and she timidly said yes. When we were doing the group exercises, she glanced up occasionally, and once we met eyes. I smiled and demonstrated the wrist-rolls we were doing, and she held up her hands and copied me almost exactly. Then she went back to her sketches. I had assumed the reason the nurses left her alone and didn't try to engage her with the group activities was that she wasn't capable of participating, but now I wonder if they just couldn't be bothered. It breaks my heart.
The hour flew by; Alli and I both lost track of time and were late to meet the van that was taking us to the school. We were in Christian's class today, with some apparently more advanced students than yesterday.
For our advanced Spanish class, Alyssa and I have a homework assignment to translate a page of Spanish sayings into English. I had it in my purse today, and I thought it would make a fun group assignment, and I could therefore kill two birds with one stone. (I never realized how often we sacrifice birds in our colloquialisms. Besides the aforementioned gem, there's "the early bird gets the worm," "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush," "birds of a feather flock together," and so on.)
The kids seemed to really enjoy the lesson, and Christian, the teacher, got involved too.
Group exercises
It was an illuminating look at differences in culture as well as language. For example, "El que con lobos anda a aullar aprende," means "he who goes with wolves will learn to howl," and I'm sure there's something vaguely similar in English, but I can't call it to mind. Sleep in the barn and you'll smell like a pig? Run with the dogs and I'll treat you like one? Keep making that face and it'll stay that way? Then there's "mas sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo, which means, "the devil knows more because he's old than because he's the devil." I don't think there is an English equivalent. There are sayings that laud the power of wisdom, such as "old age and treachery will always beat youth and skill," but that's not the same. The "devil" expression is something a father might say to his daughter's date, to remind the kid that he knows all his tricks; the implication is that the devil knows more of evil because of his age than because of his inherent evilness. Then there are some phrases that translate almost exactly, such as "mejor pajaro en mano que cien volando," which literally means, "a bird in the hand is better than a hundred flying;" the English equivalent just replaces the hundred flying with two in a bush.Here are the phrases; I promised Christian I'd type them up anyway, so here they are.
Spanish: Mejor pajaro en mano que cien volando
Literally: A bird in the hand is better than one hundred flying
Figuratively: A bird in the hand is better than two in the bush
Spanish: Al mal tiempo, buena cara
Literally: In bad times, good face
Figuratively: Grin and bear it?
Spanish: El que boca tiene a Roma va
Literally: He who has a mouth will get to Rome
Figuratively: Open your mouth, solve your problem? Ask and you shall receive?
Spanish: Mas sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo
Literally: The devil knows more from being old than from being the devil
Figuratively: ?
Spanish: El que con lobos anda a aullar aprende
Literally: He who goes with wolves will learn to howl
Figuratively: Monkey see, monkey do?
Spanish: Auga que no has de beber, dejala corer
Literally: Water that you haven't drunk, leave running freely
Figuratively: Don't take more than you need? Sharing is caring?
Spanish: Arbol que nace torcido jamas su tronco se endereza
Literally: A tree that is born sideways will never straighten its trunk
Figuratively: A leopard never changes its spots
Spanish: Camaron que se duerme se lo lleva la corriente
Literally: The sleeping shrimp will be carried away by the tide
Figuratively: You snooze, you lose?
Spanish: Perro que come huevos ni quemandole el hocico
Literally: The dog that eats eggs will do so even if he burns his mouth
Figuratively: Some ducks never learn?
Spanish: Al que buen arbol se arrima buena sombra le cobija
Literally: A tall tree casts a long shadow
Figuratively: A rising tide lifts all boats?
Spanish: Dime con quien andas y te dire quien eres
Literally: Tell me whom you're with and I'll tell you who you are
Figuratively: Birds of a feather flock together
Spanish: De tal palo tal astilla
Literally: From such a stick, such a splinter
Figuratively: Chip off the old block! Or: like father, like son.
Crossing the bridge
Or: the apple doesn't fall far from the tree***************************************************
The Drive
Four hours is a long time to spend in a car. Fortunately, there was plenty outside the window to keep me distracted. Herds of cattle ambling down the road, for example; the closest thing to that I've seen in the U.S. was in Yellowstone Park.
Gustav, our driver, was recommended by previous CCS volunteers in the notebook they maintain at the home base. We didn't find out until he picked us up, however, that he usually only drove people to the airport or other nearby places, and had never been to Monteverde before in his life. I'm astonished that he found his way there, up twisting, unpaved, unmarked mountain roads, in the driving rain, without one false turn, based on a friend's oral directions. He also speaks very good English, which was convenient, and is an all-around nice guy. Later that weekend, I found out that he graduated from the same high school where I'm volunteering, before setting off for the U.S. He was a truck driver for many years, before returning to Costa Rica, where he finds the pace of life more to his liking. The kids I've spoken with about my travels seem incredulous that I've been so many places, but I think Gustav's had far more interesting adventures. I like to think that, with my help, these kids can acquire the life skills to travel the world and have someday have similarly interesting stories to tell.
I sat up front with Alli and Alyssa, the other two girls who get carsick.
Before the rain
I therefore had a good view of the treacherous mud puddles Gustav had to swerve around, and I spent a good portion of the drive trying to figure out, based on the weight of the fifteen-passenger vehicle with all our luggage, the steepness of the incline, the depth of the ruts in the muddy road, and the number of people I could reasonably expect to get out in the rain and push, whether we'd be able to get ourselves unstuck if necessary. Luckily, Gustav is an excellent driver, and it never even came close to being necessary. Better yet, I managed not to become nauseated, even when Anna started describing her various unusual piercing procedures in detail, and when Gustav put on a two-hour-long DVD of Shania Twain music videos.The Hostel
We were greeted by a guy named Ro, who embodied the special brand of insanity that I've only ever encountered in people who work in hostels. As he walked us to our rooms, he explained that there was a 9:30 curfew. I believed him, because I've stayed in such hostels before, and since I didn't plan the trip I knew nothing about this place. When we reached our rooms, he acknowledged that, since they were, in fact, accessible to the outside, it would be difficult to enforce the curfew for us. Then he promised that the staff would come around and do bed checks, lifting the covers to count the feet and make sure we were in bed and alone. That's when it occurred to me that he was probably joking. He confirmed this by saying, "I think you Americans say-'I don geef a shit?' Well, we don geef a shit.
Share the road
You have key."We were four to a room; there was a set of bunk beds, a double bed, and a single bed up on a loft above the bathroom in each. Surprisingly, no one else wanted the loft bed, and two of the girls in my room elected to share the double bed rather than use the top bunk. So I got the bird's nest, and more privacy than I've had since I arrived. Score!
There are several dogs and cats that mostly live at the hostel but seem to belong to the town as a whole. They know they'll get fed here, anyway, and most of them have claimed warm spots on top of various appliances or near vents. My heart was stolen immediately by a kitten named Julio, who jumped into my lap when I squatted down to pet him. He has some kind of hip or leg problem, and walks with a limp, but is so adorable and affectionate he could probably get someone to carry him everywhere he wants to go.
We ate dinner at a buffet up the street called Henry's, on Ro's recommendation. They didn't have much in the way of vegetarian options besides rice, beans, and steamed vegetables, which I've been eating twice a day for the last week, so I got a chicken tamale. It was pretty good, but the texture of meat just seems so alien to me now. Funny that cheese and eggs taste as good as ever. I'm beginning to understand why there are so many vegetarians and so few vegans; quitting meat is infinitely easier.
After dinner we hit the bars. I was having some kind of weird stomach cramps, but I figured it would be better to go out and hope I would feel better (and go back to the hostel alone if I didn't), than to stay home and not know where to join the rest of the girls if I did. Thinking it might be gas, I wanted to stay away from beer and mixed drinks involving soda, and having heard that ice in some places can be sketchy, I wanted to avoid that, too. So I got a shot of Johnny Walker, neat. It was only about two bucks, and better than I remembered. The bartender gave me a bug-eyed look when I asked for Scotch with no ice or mixers, but I get that at home, too.
Later we went to another bar, where there was going to be some live music. Charlito, one of the puppies at the hostel, followed us in, and no one seemed to mind. We met some other Americans, but by this point I was too uncomfortable to enjoy myself much. I left while the musicians were setting up, and went back to my little nest in our room.
