January 25, 2010
Today at the end of the school day it had gotten chilly. I grabbed my jacket and left the room to supervise my third and fourth graders as they cleaned the meeting room and the library. Back and forth between the library , meeting room and classroom I went for ten minutes, guiding student. I joined multiplication practice with the students who were finished with their clean-up jobs. The student in charge of the flash cards quit her job and I reached up to take the cards from the top of the book shelf in order to take over.
I felt a wiggle under my jacket on the back of my left shoulder. Gross. I clamped down on the fabric of my jacket and pulled it away from my body in a loose fistful. I flipped the collar inside out, slowly releasing my grip to see what critter was in there, if any. I saw a small, black-segmented worm moving slowly. What was that? It had no head. I stared at it for a few seconds until I realized, along with all of the third and fourth graders at Monteverde Friends School, what I was looking at – the tail of a black scorpion, which was tucked nicely in my jacket.
This is when I lost my cool. I yelled. I squealed. I didn’t let go of the wad of fabric that was between the scorpion and me. 21 students and one very calm co-teacher instantly swarmed me. I had no idea how to get myself out of this situation. I looked at Tedi with panicked eyes and pleaded, “Help!” He helped me slowly wiggle out of my jacket and took it outside.
My heart raced for ten minutes. A parent told me later in the day that this year will be scorpion heavy because it is so dry. When I shared my concern about allergic reactions (my elbow is swollen, hot and tender today with two bug bites, despiste the antihistamine) she assures me that very few people have reactions to scorpion stings. “Sometimes your tongue can go numb,” she adds as an after thought.
I have resigned myself to the fact that while I am here in Monteverde I will get stung by a scorpion. It will hurt a lot, totally freak me out, and then be over.
I can’t believe I have to add “the time I found a live scorpion inside of the jacket I was wearing” to my list of life experiences. I have not missed NYC or the states since my first night back. If anything, the thought of life there saddens me. Until today. Oh, how I crave not having to tap out shoes, shake out clothes and peer under sheets. I miss not having to wash slug slime off the greens left by a tough little visitor who has survived three cold days in the fridge.
This too stings for a bit, but will pass.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Community
Today is a beautiful day in Monteverde. Today I went to a birthday gathering for three wonderful people here in Monteverde. Today I sat in the sun and watched dogs and babies and listened to people play guitar and flute and drums and saxaphone and I laughed and I was happy. Today in Monteverde I felt, finally, like I was part of a community.
Today in the sun of Monteverde I thought about my days at MHC and ached so badly to be sitting in the sun with those women again. Maybe this is life - finding people you love all over the world. I know it sounds wonderful, but sometimes this is hard. Sometimes I wish I did not have so much love to give out, but then realize immediately that that is not what I want.
Right now I am listening to "Too Many Birds" by Bill Callahan, sent to me by a wonderful man I know in Brooklyn. It if funny and beautiful and interesting, just like he is.
Today in the sun of Monteverde I thought about my days at MHC and ached so badly to be sitting in the sun with those women again. Maybe this is life - finding people you love all over the world. I know it sounds wonderful, but sometimes this is hard. Sometimes I wish I did not have so much love to give out, but then realize immediately that that is not what I want.
Right now I am listening to "Too Many Birds" by Bill Callahan, sent to me by a wonderful man I know in Brooklyn. It if funny and beautiful and interesting, just like he is.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Back in Monteverde
Monday January 11, 2010
Here I am in Monteverde again. I was looking forward to being back in my own space again, my own bed. It has been 3 ½ weeks of couch hopping and trying not to inconvenience my hosts and I was looking forward to a break. This is what happened instead:
I trudged the last leg of my almost 24 hour journey through the falling darkness, cold rain and relentless wind, struggling with my bags, dropping my vest in the mud and getting barked at by the landlady’s dog. I stepped inside my house and felt no relief, only loneliness. A big, strong, cold wave of it.
And already, life here in Monteverde is more difficult. My clothes grew a nice fuzzy layer of mildew while I was away. There are dead beetles and spiders and grasshoppers all over my floor. I have to ask myself – Why did I choose this? At the moment I can’t seem to remember. I can only remember the last 3 ½ weeks in a culture that makes sense to me, a language I don’t have to plod through, surrounded by people who know me well and love me for it. I’ve spent the last 3 ½ weeks reclined lazily in a web of loved ones and I forgot that that web is not here in Monteverde. I forgot that that web takes years to build and for right now I’m just on a lonely adventure by myself.
Hmm…adventure…adventure. That’s why I signed up for this gig in the first place, right? Why did I sign up for this again? Adventure? Experience? I’m not sure I’d say that getting back to Monteverde was an adventure, but it sure was an experience.
My flight left La Guardia airport at 9:40 p.m. on Sunday. That in itself was its one experience – one that hurt. It’s supposed to make me stronger, right? I wonder. I arrived in Charlotte, North Carolina at 11:30 p.m. and walked slowly through the empty corridors of the airport watching the graveyard shift cleaning crews quietly deploy to all corners. I was sad and regretting my decision to save money by taking a long late night layover in Charlotte. I tried to be adventurous and have an open mind and soak in this experience that I may never have again and paid attention to the quiet empty gates as I passed. I found a place to snuggle down for the 7 hours of layover and watched late night security do rounds and sip large coffees. I watched a movie on my laptop. I dozed.
At about 2 a.m. I woke to a middle aged man with a vacuum cleaner talking adamantly to two young black men about the plight of the afro-American male these days. “We are turning on ourselves, killing our own people”, he said with a sadness in his voice. The two young men were quiet and attentive. The middle-aged man suddenly ended the conversation saying, with a laugh “Well, I gotta work or they’ll bust my ass.” The two young men wandered away as the vacuum started up and I tried to stay out of the way of the cleaning.
I’m skipping a lot now because I’m tired and it was nothing super exciting. I did neglect to mention my tummy adventure, but that’s for another day. On the ride up the mountain we blew a tire and spun out a bit, fishtailing feet away from the lush, plunging cliff side. All I could do was laugh. We drove up and up and up with the sun setting over the Nicoya Gulf on one side and a double rainbow disappearing into a deep valley on the other side. There were a number of trees down in the road due to the gusty winds. It is beautiful here, that is for sure.
So, I have a lot of thinking to do. I have to get used to my Monteverde life again. I have to start remembering to tap out my shoes for spiders and scorpions, store items so they won’t mildew, throw toilet paper in the trash can and get all the groceries I need for the week at once because there is no Key Foods across the street.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
And now I remember why I love it here. I feel good here. I get to say to students: “Please speak up so we can hear you over the wind.” I get paid to sit in Meeting every Wednesday and just think. Today I stared at my shoes and the wooden floor and tried to focus on why I feel so good being here. There is a lot to think about.
I do still miss the comforts of the states. I miss insulation and heating. I am cold here and it doesn’t go away. There are bugs here and they don’t go away. But there is something here that also won’t go away. And I’m working on it, ok? I’m working on articulating it. And then folding it up gently in my pocket so when my life takes me back to the states I can unfold it in front of me and look at it and wrap it around me and not feel so out of place.
Which brings me to this: I have finally made my decision about next year. I am going to stay in Monteverde. I feel at peace with this. I am happy. Thank you to everyone who helped me figure myself out and who support and love and believe in me even if I am far away.
Here I am in Monteverde again. I was looking forward to being back in my own space again, my own bed. It has been 3 ½ weeks of couch hopping and trying not to inconvenience my hosts and I was looking forward to a break. This is what happened instead:
I trudged the last leg of my almost 24 hour journey through the falling darkness, cold rain and relentless wind, struggling with my bags, dropping my vest in the mud and getting barked at by the landlady’s dog. I stepped inside my house and felt no relief, only loneliness. A big, strong, cold wave of it.
And already, life here in Monteverde is more difficult. My clothes grew a nice fuzzy layer of mildew while I was away. There are dead beetles and spiders and grasshoppers all over my floor. I have to ask myself – Why did I choose this? At the moment I can’t seem to remember. I can only remember the last 3 ½ weeks in a culture that makes sense to me, a language I don’t have to plod through, surrounded by people who know me well and love me for it. I’ve spent the last 3 ½ weeks reclined lazily in a web of loved ones and I forgot that that web is not here in Monteverde. I forgot that that web takes years to build and for right now I’m just on a lonely adventure by myself.
Hmm…adventure…adventure. That’s why I signed up for this gig in the first place, right? Why did I sign up for this again? Adventure? Experience? I’m not sure I’d say that getting back to Monteverde was an adventure, but it sure was an experience.
My flight left La Guardia airport at 9:40 p.m. on Sunday. That in itself was its one experience – one that hurt. It’s supposed to make me stronger, right? I wonder. I arrived in Charlotte, North Carolina at 11:30 p.m. and walked slowly through the empty corridors of the airport watching the graveyard shift cleaning crews quietly deploy to all corners. I was sad and regretting my decision to save money by taking a long late night layover in Charlotte. I tried to be adventurous and have an open mind and soak in this experience that I may never have again and paid attention to the quiet empty gates as I passed. I found a place to snuggle down for the 7 hours of layover and watched late night security do rounds and sip large coffees. I watched a movie on my laptop. I dozed.
At about 2 a.m. I woke to a middle aged man with a vacuum cleaner talking adamantly to two young black men about the plight of the afro-American male these days. “We are turning on ourselves, killing our own people”, he said with a sadness in his voice. The two young men were quiet and attentive. The middle-aged man suddenly ended the conversation saying, with a laugh “Well, I gotta work or they’ll bust my ass.” The two young men wandered away as the vacuum started up and I tried to stay out of the way of the cleaning.
I’m skipping a lot now because I’m tired and it was nothing super exciting. I did neglect to mention my tummy adventure, but that’s for another day. On the ride up the mountain we blew a tire and spun out a bit, fishtailing feet away from the lush, plunging cliff side. All I could do was laugh. We drove up and up and up with the sun setting over the Nicoya Gulf on one side and a double rainbow disappearing into a deep valley on the other side. There were a number of trees down in the road due to the gusty winds. It is beautiful here, that is for sure.
So, I have a lot of thinking to do. I have to get used to my Monteverde life again. I have to start remembering to tap out my shoes for spiders and scorpions, store items so they won’t mildew, throw toilet paper in the trash can and get all the groceries I need for the week at once because there is no Key Foods across the street.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
And now I remember why I love it here. I feel good here. I get to say to students: “Please speak up so we can hear you over the wind.” I get paid to sit in Meeting every Wednesday and just think. Today I stared at my shoes and the wooden floor and tried to focus on why I feel so good being here. There is a lot to think about.
I do still miss the comforts of the states. I miss insulation and heating. I am cold here and it doesn’t go away. There are bugs here and they don’t go away. But there is something here that also won’t go away. And I’m working on it, ok? I’m working on articulating it. And then folding it up gently in my pocket so when my life takes me back to the states I can unfold it in front of me and look at it and wrap it around me and not feel so out of place.
Which brings me to this: I have finally made my decision about next year. I am going to stay in Monteverde. I feel at peace with this. I am happy. Thank you to everyone who helped me figure myself out and who support and love and believe in me even if I am far away.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Lay. Over.
It is midnight and I am in the Charlotte airport. My flight to San Jose leaves in over seven hours. Why did I think this was a good idea?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)