...then she brought up CAFTA

Here in Orosi, we´re taking Spanish lessons from natives of this small village in the Central Valley. We have 3 classes in total, 3 hours per class. I´m improving for sure with each day, but my level of speaking seems to fluctuate like a bull market. It´s constantly going up, but a closer look would reveal pretty random fluctuations, and certain inconsistency. Nonetheless, I´m in a class with 2 volunteers, and Natalia, age 23, native of Orosi, darling eyes, and a 3 year old daughter who is not in the class. I was expressing to her this morning how I think its so important for N. Americans to be down here, or in other developing countries, to truly understand the human impact of the laws we blindly pass. In Spanish, she replied, ¨Kind of like CAFTA...¨

I knew this would come up. It had to. If it didn´t, at some point, with someone, it may have been my biggest dissapointment. For the past 3 months, I´d read about, talked about, argued about the fact that Central Americans understand very well the potential impact of this treaty. After 5 minutes speaking with Natalia, I can take a small amount of comfort in knowing we, students for fair trade, were right...with a somber look, and i say this not for poetic affect, but to paint a picture of reality, she told me how 3 buses leave Orosi every morning at 530am for the city of Cartago, half an hour away. The people who fill these buses have jobs in small factories, working with textiles, agriculture, the like. She knew very well, and she didn´t hesitate in telling 3 citizens of the united states directly to our faces, that these people would all be out of work if CAFTA were to go through. She reinforced that this is not what the PEOPLE want. This is what the government wants. The people certainly can express their opinions, but ultimately their voice is not the final voice. All this started because I asked if its difficult to make a living as a farmer. To hear these things from a 23 year old girl in a tiny farming village was very moving.

Other things...still playing Uno with the fam. Pablo made a scorecard for us the other day. After I saw the name he printed for me, I realized that they´d been calling my Ant for the past 4 days. It seems that Adam is a little tough for Ticos to pronounce. They´re doing better though, and now they mouth my name while we´re at the dinner table...

I find it really funny when Ticos know American idioms. For example, one of our hiking guide the other day loved duct tape. At the end of the hike, he proudly told us his motto. Ïf you can´t duct it, fuck it.¨

Last night we took salsa lessons. Costa Rican women are very proud, and very powerful when they dance. The ones that dance, that is. It would have been a pretty funny situation, had you walked in on it. The Gringos were more or less the only ones dancing, in the middle of this hostel floor, while most of our host families sat in chairs in along the walls and sort of watched us while chatting with friends. Actually, they didn´t chat much, they just sort of sat and watched. I danced once with my host mom, who pretty much showed me up, and when it became pretty obvious that I have no rythm, she gave me some command in Spanish that didn´t sound too complimentary...¨muchacho this or muchacho that.¨ Ticos are very shy, usually. They do love to gossip though. I´m eagerly awaiting the day when I get to my host town, and the rumors that will inevitable spread about who I´m dating, which will usually be the last person I was seen talking with, catch up to me...

Other funny moment, I woke up in the middle of the night the other night coughing my brains out. All it was was a post nasal drip, but since the walls in my house are basically plywood, I woke up the whole family. I knew this, and also knew that it wouldnt be mentioned the next morning. As I expected, it wasn´t mentioned, but to my surprise, my host mother called in to our orientation site and expressed concern to our director that I´d become very sick. Although I feel fine, that´s a pretty good example of the type of culture I´m living in here in Costa Rica. Very very curious, aware, sensitive to what´s going on with those around them. On the other hand, the do have some strange beliefs and customs. Though it is thought that you can´t cook barefoot, less you want to get electrocuted, they use electricity to heat their showers, and there are wires that hang above the showerhead. Not to worry, it´s safe, but it´s certainly bizarre.