Midway Through

Observations on San Ramon …
Bronzed aged men sporting fishing hats or sombreros and sandy t-shirts, trousers, and sandals sit on crates as they call out to passersby various names of fruits or vegetables for sale. They sit by their cardboard signs scribbled in marker with prices by the kilo, and mini blue pick up trucks heaping with colorful shiny ruddy mangoes, dark avocados, or sometimes various vegetables.

Muchachos in their teens loiter outside one of several neighborhood pulperias (effectively a corner grocery or convenience store), some sitting on the sidewalk, others seated on their bicycles, as they people-watch.

Kids in white cotton short-sleeve button-down uniform shirts and dark blue or black pants walk in groups to and from school.

Sounds of reggaeton or miscellaneous latin music (like meringue, salsa) float out from houses and sodas (food stands); very loudly, because Ticos lack the concept of “keep it down or you’ll disturb the neighbors”.

Stray dogs linger all streets, this is one of the saddest daily sightings. I have never seen so many stray dogs before, and they are all the same dogs for the most part. I recognize the strays on my street. The other day, I saw one dog that was likely dead, lying in the gutter, eyes open and completely still. It was too much and I nearly cried right there in the street. (Kari, for this reason only, I would discourage you from coming to San Ramon).

Disappointingly, the most popular brands you will see worn by Tico youth are Abercrombie & Fitch or Hollister.

Plump women in their 40s and 50s mop their front stoops and sidewalks daily.

Beyond town on all sides, soft and smooth mountains surround us and grow fainter and fainter in the distance. Among the pockets amidst the hills and valleys are scatterings of clustered houses. The boxy roofs are brick red, olive green, orange, sienna, turquoise, or mustard. They sweep the land with no rhyme or reason. It’s as if a God had stacks of colored construction paper and tossed them like confetti so the colors settled haphazardly atop the houses of San Ramon.

This layout as I’ve described it is best viewed from the soccer/ball court where I teach phys ed since my school is up on a hill about a 20-minute walk from the center of town. From my school, you can see the pattern of the houses and then the white church hovering above the scattering, very serene and certain of its place in San Ramon.

In the center of town, kids run along the streets; people see familiar faces and lean in to kiss cheeks and lay a hand on shoulders. The local buses putter along the streets. Mini vans with loudspeakers drive by announcing the latest sale at various stores.

At Escuela Belen, when the gatekeeper, Rolando permits us to enter at 8:40 am, kids call “Nina!” and they approach us to give us hugs or kisses on the cheek. They all claim that today we are teaching their class first– but for the most part they are lying and we check the schedule for the correct class. Sometimes students approach us to let us know that we have class with them on Wednesday. I answer yes in agreement, even though I have no idea to which class they belong.

On teaching gym classes …
Kids (pre grade 3) cry at the darndest things. They cry if their skin has been scratched. They cry if we don’t play the game they want to play. They cry if another student pushes them. They cry if a ball hits them anywhere at all. Also, they gather in a group if someone is crying or in pain. Kids like to cluster. They also like to cluster around a ball during a game, and they don’t like to share. They like to steal balls from other kids. Kids want to be chosen to be shark in Sharks, or the traffic light in Red Light Green Light, or the first to choose for Duck Duck Goose. And they pout if they aren’t chosen - but only for a moment. In Duck Duck Goose, if the goose is caught, he goes in “la sopa” or “la olla” (depending on the class, it varies). This is the “soup” or “pot”. Is this what we called it in the US? I can’t remember. Also, kids often run around the circle twice, sometimes three times. “Sientete”, we say. But they don’t sit; they just keep running until they remember they need to sit. I never saw people so thrilled to be running around in a circle.

Despite how easily kids cry when something happens, they seem to have no fear otherwise. They are scared of nothing and they jump, roll, hop, pound, climb, kick, skip, flip, do whatever they please without a concern at all of hurting themselves. It is remarkable.

Also 3rd grade (maybe even 1st grade) girls like to perform choreographed dances for us teachers, typically in a group of three. At their fresh age they are already dancing sexy, complete with hip sways, butt slaps, hair flips, splits, and back bends. It is a bit disconcerting but also quite amusing. I ask them where they’ve learned how to dance like that. It seems television really does wonders for youngsters. The equivalent for boys is something along the lines of break-dancing. They tell me to watch. They are actually pretty good. One of the boys does a pretty good Brazilian Capoeira move. I tell them, “Que impresionante” (loosely, how impressive).

And thus are my thoughts on my first month in San Ramon.

What I Miss at Home
Aside from the obvious (friends and family), I cannot say enough how unimpressive and frustrating the standards for sanitation are in Costa Rica. Allow me to recount one example: my host mother was making beef patties for lunch one day in a plastic bowl. As she was mixing the raw meat with seasoning, onions, etc. with her hands, at one point she licked one of her fingers as if to wet it (like the way one does to turn the page of a book). Am I the only one thinking “Bacteria! Bacteria!”? She rinsed her hands off afterwards at the sink but did not use soap. Also, in both kitchens and bathrooms of the two host families I have had, more than once I have seen cockroaches or other creatures. If not those, there are reliably always, always, always swarms of flies taking rest on bread, fruit, dishes just cleaned but still damp, wet towels, etc. It is truly the one thing I detest about my experience here. A couple times at my house in San Pedro, late at night I would go to the kitchen to get a drink of water and there would be a cockroach perched on the counter. Also apparently it's okay to leave raw meat on a plate or on a gladware cap uncovered in the fridge next to a plate of sliced pineapple. All I can do is look away. So, for 15 minutes or so every day, I am cursing to myself but then I look away and think of other things.

Nevertheless, I have not been sick from food or water the entire time I have been in Costa Rica, so should one conclude that perhaps we are just “germaphobs” in the US?

Other Thoughts

Half-Way Through
I am just shy of being 2 months in Costa Rica, and I have a little over 2 months remaining. I will be changing my program to teach English to high school and college students who already have learned some English. Also I will only be teaching in the mornings so I’ll have the afternoons free to do as I please.

Quote from One of My Students…
“They eat dogs in China, true?”

Quote from Dona Ada, My Host Mother…
(Obviously, agree or disagree as you please with this statement)
“Yesterday passed; tomorrow, who knows. So today is the most important day.”




© Copyright Stephanie Lin Wu