It has been an eventful last couple of weeks.
On Friday, August 1st we set out from the house for our pilgrimage, or romeria, to Cartago. The romería is done once a year by catholics from all across the country to honor the patron saint of Costa Rica, La Virgen de Los Angeles. The trip is done on foot, and the pilgrims walk from the farthest corners of the country. The few hearty souls that begin the walk from close to the border with Panamá set out nearly a month before. Our stroll…excuse me…pilgrimage…took about 6 hours.
The group was made up of some members of my host family, Clarisa – another volunteer from a town close-by (side note: the link to her blog is on the right side of this page), and myself. We had to climb for about an hour up the hill to the Interamerican Highway, however, we finally made it and started long, slow meandering walk down the mountain to Cartago, located in la meseta central, or central plateau.
Along the way we met up with Tamara, another volunteer located in San Pablo, a town close by. Tamara was helping out at the Red Cross tents stationed along the highway. She has gotten to be good friends with the Red Cross folks after organizing some emergency planning public meetings following a violent tropical storm that passed through the region a couple of months ago and displaced people in her town.
It was good to see Tamara…who I hadn’t seen since training ended about 2 ½ months ago. Despite the fact that Clarisa and Tamara only live about 2 or 3 mountains over in the same general area, there is no public transport between our towns and so sometimes it feels like they might as well live on the other side of the country.
From the Red Cross tents we had about 12 km left. We slowly made our way into town, although admittedly stopped for a short beer break along with some of the more fiestero pilgrims.
Gracias a Dios as the Ticos would say, it did not rain on us that day, which is really a miracle considering we are well into the rainy season. Once in Cartago we hung out by the cathedral, which is the big destination for all the pilgrims. It was pretty chill around there, so we bought some food before heading back to our respective towns.
Overall the pilgrimage was a great experience, and it was great to finally catch up with Clarisa and Tamara.
The other big event that has happened since my last blog entry was the 15th birthday party of my sister from my training host family. 15th birthday parties for girls are a huge deal in Latin American…so I’ve recently learned.
This would have just been any other interesting cultural experience for me, however this time I participated as the acompañante, or date.
The weekend after the romería, I arrived back in Tarbaca the Saturday afternoon before the big party so I could help the family set up. Over the next few hours and into the night we completed a looting of desks from the local school, and managed to blow up a couple hundred pink balloons, a process that kept us up working until around midnight.
Skip to the good part!…so the next day I find myself with the birthday girl, Paola, on the other side of a big wall separating us from the rest of the party-goers. It’s finally here!...Paola’s big social debut…she is visibly nervous.We are given the sign to start our procession.
We walk out into the sunlight surrounded by about 150 guests and 15 couples especially designated to serve as accompañates to the birthday girl and her date. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Terri, or Teresita, my old host mom wipe away a tear as we move into the room. We make a lap around the big party area, all the while everyone is continuing to clap.
Finally, we make it back to the group of 15 couples. The music starts. We are the first to dance. The dance is the balz…a very slow rhythm. As we dance we have to make it around to each of the 15 couples and once we approach them Paola leans over and blows out the candle held my each of the female dates, which starts each pair dancing.
How do I play this?...was what I was thinking through the whole process. Do I smile real big as we walk around the room…or do I go with the somber, no smile look. I decided to go no-smiles…as the record (i.e. photos) will show. After all…it’s her day. Nobody came to see me strutting around smiling like an idiot. I caught some grief from my friend Marcus for the serious look…but still think it was the way to go.
After the dance….the 15 couples all gathered around the central table. A juice drink was poured in all the glasses, and we all had a toast. Then, we sat down and all stared at each other…actually… maybe that was just me doing the staring. I tried to start some conversation but nobody seemed to interested into talking to the big gringo serving as acompañante to their cousin.
The whole ceremony was pretty awkward…and funny. Hey!..that pretty much describes my whole Peace Corps experience up to the point.
The rest of the night was spent trying to procure food (unsuccesfully) from the overworked kitchen area and dancing regaton with a group of 15 year olds. Overall it was a great time…and I got to see my good friends Marcus and Kayla from training.
Hope you enjoy the pictures.
Next up is a regional volunteer meeting that has somehow devolved (or evolved…more appropriately) into a whitewater rafting trip. A week later we have IST, or In Service Training, a 5 day event in San Jose with 15 other volunteers from my program. After 3 months in the sticks…it is bound to be interesting. Will let you know how it goes.
This blog goes out to my grandparents – Mema, Gran, and Papa – all back in the great state of Kentucky, and whom I miss very much but haven’t been able to talk to in recent months. I miss you guys and am thinking about you a lot. Watch out!...I have a Skype account now..so expect a call soon.
On Friday, August 1st we set out from the house for our pilgrimage, or romeria, to Cartago. The romería is done once a year by catholics from all across the country to honor the patron saint of Costa Rica, La Virgen de Los Angeles. The trip is done on foot, and the pilgrims walk from the farthest corners of the country. The few hearty souls that begin the walk from close to the border with Panamá set out nearly a month before. Our stroll…excuse me…pilgrimage…took about 6 hours.
The group was made up of some members of my host family, Clarisa – another volunteer from a town close-by (side note: the link to her blog is on the right side of this page), and myself. We had to climb for about an hour up the hill to the Interamerican Highway, however, we finally made it and started long, slow meandering walk down the mountain to Cartago, located in la meseta central, or central plateau.
Along the way we met up with Tamara, another volunteer located in San Pablo, a town close by. Tamara was helping out at the Red Cross tents stationed along the highway. She has gotten to be good friends with the Red Cross folks after organizing some emergency planning public meetings following a violent tropical storm that passed through the region a couple of months ago and displaced people in her town.
It was good to see Tamara…who I hadn’t seen since training ended about 2 ½ months ago. Despite the fact that Clarisa and Tamara only live about 2 or 3 mountains over in the same general area, there is no public transport between our towns and so sometimes it feels like they might as well live on the other side of the country.
From the Red Cross tents we had about 12 km left. We slowly made our way into town, although admittedly stopped for a short beer break along with some of the more fiestero pilgrims.
Gracias a Dios as the Ticos would say, it did not rain on us that day, which is really a miracle considering we are well into the rainy season. Once in Cartago we hung out by the cathedral, which is the big destination for all the pilgrims. It was pretty chill around there, so we bought some food before heading back to our respective towns.
Overall the pilgrimage was a great experience, and it was great to finally catch up with Clarisa and Tamara.
The other big event that has happened since my last blog entry was the 15th birthday party of my sister from my training host family. 15th birthday parties for girls are a huge deal in Latin American…so I’ve recently learned.
This would have just been any other interesting cultural experience for me, however this time I participated as the acompañante, or date.
The weekend after the romería, I arrived back in Tarbaca the Saturday afternoon before the big party so I could help the family set up. Over the next few hours and into the night we completed a looting of desks from the local school, and managed to blow up a couple hundred pink balloons, a process that kept us up working until around midnight.
Skip to the good part!…so the next day I find myself with the birthday girl, Paola, on the other side of a big wall separating us from the rest of the party-goers. It’s finally here!...Paola’s big social debut…she is visibly nervous.We are given the sign to start our procession.
We walk out into the sunlight surrounded by about 150 guests and 15 couples especially designated to serve as accompañates to the birthday girl and her date. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Terri, or Teresita, my old host mom wipe away a tear as we move into the room. We make a lap around the big party area, all the while everyone is continuing to clap.
Finally, we make it back to the group of 15 couples. The music starts. We are the first to dance. The dance is the balz…a very slow rhythm. As we dance we have to make it around to each of the 15 couples and once we approach them Paola leans over and blows out the candle held my each of the female dates, which starts each pair dancing.
How do I play this?...was what I was thinking through the whole process. Do I smile real big as we walk around the room…or do I go with the somber, no smile look. I decided to go no-smiles…as the record (i.e. photos) will show. After all…it’s her day. Nobody came to see me strutting around smiling like an idiot. I caught some grief from my friend Marcus for the serious look…but still think it was the way to go.
After the dance….the 15 couples all gathered around the central table. A juice drink was poured in all the glasses, and we all had a toast. Then, we sat down and all stared at each other…actually… maybe that was just me doing the staring. I tried to start some conversation but nobody seemed to interested into talking to the big gringo serving as acompañante to their cousin.
The whole ceremony was pretty awkward…and funny. Hey!..that pretty much describes my whole Peace Corps experience up to the point.
The rest of the night was spent trying to procure food (unsuccesfully) from the overworked kitchen area and dancing regaton with a group of 15 year olds. Overall it was a great time…and I got to see my good friends Marcus and Kayla from training.
Hope you enjoy the pictures.
Next up is a regional volunteer meeting that has somehow devolved (or evolved…more appropriately) into a whitewater rafting trip. A week later we have IST, or In Service Training, a 5 day event in San Jose with 15 other volunteers from my program. After 3 months in the sticks…it is bound to be interesting. Will let you know how it goes.
This blog goes out to my grandparents – Mema, Gran, and Papa – all back in the great state of Kentucky, and whom I miss very much but haven’t been able to talk to in recent months. I miss you guys and am thinking about you a lot. Watch out!...I have a Skype account now..so expect a call soon.
