Postscript: Abuelito dies

On Saturday September 17, my Abuelito Tico passed away. I found out in a quick e-mail from Host Dad and finally had the courage to call Host Mom to offer my condolences. There is something so real about Host Mom and her family, something so raw and true, something I haven't been able to find here. I think I'm meant to keep in touch with my tico family, if only to keep connected to that raw spirit, that idea that simple and good are virtues to be held in the highest esteem. That work is valuable if it means your family can eat, sleep and be safe. And that family is the most important thing in the world.

The thing that impresses me most about Host Mom's re-telling of the events surrounding Abuelito's death is that she and her brothers and sister were all able to reconcile and find one another together in faith during the week he was in the hospital. They are now gathering every morning to pray the rosary together.

It's hard to say goodbye to Abuelito. It's hard to be so far away, where everyone I know can't possibly understand how a kind, wonderful, elderly tico man with a sparkle in his eye and a cache of 10 amusing English words (including "bye-bye" and "beautiful") managed to win a place in my heart in just six months. But like everything that happened to me in Costa Rica, it happened over time, took me by surprise, and changed me.

I'm writing this post-script to my blog during my first week of classes at Harvard. It's ironic to be at the center of the intellectual universe, an instution of great renoun and power, and to feel nothing but the responsibility that this access will give me to amplify the voices of the poor and voiceless. While everyone networks around me I want to jump and shout "this is bullshit!" and transport them all to the gracious hospitality I received in several poor and humble homes near the family finca (farm) in Costa Rica, and the similar hills and farms in Rwanda.

My worldview is different. I am different. Like Tom Friedman, I too think the world is flat. But for me, the world is a flat red clay dirt road with women shuffling along in bare feet with water cans balanced on their heads while the "relief workers" in the SUVs go speeding by. We may all finally be traveling on the same road, but in vastly different realities.

All of the books and innovations and ideas and power don't mean anything if they don't bring you to live a life of faith, family and service.

This is it

My final day in Costa Rica. And, it appears, that for the second time this year, I lucked into getting something accomplished more efficiently (remember the express bus to Jaco in June? That was the first time...)

Today I had a lot of banking to do. Despite my best efforts to get the University to give me my final paycheck early so I could transfer the amount to my US account and pay my rent and spanish class bills, and close my CR account the University refused to do so before my last day. (But, they helpfully offered one of their drivers to take me to the bank on his way to San Jose.) The reason I wanted the check early was not to abscond with the money, but because I'm leaving at 7:15 AM tomorrow, and will not have been able to get to the bank on Saturday or Monday to close my account if anything went wrong. And, let's face it, this is The Ciudad, something always goes wrong.

The Ciudad, once again, did not let me down. Something went wrong. The branch of my bank in The Ciudad is closed today. Why, you might ask, is it closed on a random friday? For the town fiesta (fair). The banks and social security office in The Ciudad decided to close today (without prior warning) so their employees could go to the fiesta. Huh. [As long as I'm on a tirade about the town fiesta, I should tell you it's just like town fairs in the US: rides they bring in on trucks, food stands, a stage with live music performances, fried dough, and beer. Exept in the Ciudad, they set the fair up on a big field DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THE CEMETARY. Only in Ciudad Colon would the town fair be at the CEMETARY. There was a funeral today, and the family walked from the church to the cemetary behind the hearse, and had to walk RIGHT PAST THE FAIR. Totally unbelieveable, but that's the Ciudad for you...]

Anyway, back to my bank story....the drivers thought they would just take me to the the Multiplaza branch of my bank, but alas, it doesn't open until 1PM. So they took me to the branch in nearby Santa Ana instead. At this point I was pretty convinced disaster was imminent. I had some very complicated banking to do. Two transfers (one international), a check deposit, a cash withdrawl and the closing of my account. In the US I would have trouble getting this done correctly. I was convinced that they would tell me that the check wouldn't clear in time to be transferred, or I'd have to go to like seven tellers to get my stuff done, or that I had to go to my home bank branch to close my account. Gah.

When I got to the bank, the metal detector wouldn't let me in with my back pack, so I had to switch all of my bank stuff to my purse and put the backpack in a locker. Not a good sign. Then when I got into the bank, I had to draw a number and wait 30 minutes to be served. The whole time, I was thinking of contingencies...would my bank at home process a costa rican check? Would they let my host mom close my account for me? Could I close the account over the phone? And suddenly, my number was up. That's when it happened. THE MIRACLE. I got this teller who was so sweet and so understanding and....GOT IT ALL DONE. All of it. Two transfers, one deposit, a cash withdrawl, and my account closed. Done. All in like 20 minutes. I think I will name my first born daughter after her (gabriella), I am so grateful. For good measure, I hopped a cab home and paid my spanish class bill immediately. And was rewarded with a super-yummy home cooked lunch (and more time with my host mom, Tica grandma, and older host brother).

Oh, and did I mention, I did all of my banking in Spanish? :)

More editing fun...

Another direct quotation, same article:

"In the following section we will be bound to have the autopsy on promotion and protection of human rights in Central Africa."

uhhh...autopsy? Does this mean the promotion and protection of human rights in Central Africa is dead? huh. This is in addition to new words I'm learning like "scarify" (instead of sanctify). As in, I'm scarified I will start writing like this...

Today I'm grateful...

That I don't live here.

(If you're wondering, the Guardian is a totally legit british newspaper, and not the UK version of The Onion...)

Advice for editors

If you're ever offered a job editing a book or series of articles from non-native English speakers, run, don't walk, in the opposite direction. A gem from a text I'm editing today:

"Given the complexity of detailed analysis under this thematic obliges us to
work on with more preoccupation as this study calls on a plurality of
disciplines to reach the needs of readers."

You know you're in trouble when this is the first sentance of an article you have to edit...

Flat out exhaustion

Stick a fork in me, I'm totally done.

I am currently so incredibly exhausted, for no apparent reason. Might be stress.

It's been a whopper of a week in my tico family, with smallest host brother, host mom, and puppy all having been to the doctor (and two of the three to the hospital) for various potentially threatening maladies, the garage gate and alarm for the school/store broken and under repair by various technicians and the missing merchandise I mentioned before now found but bogged down in legal troubles.

Then there's my week. I'm the only person in my office, so I'm handling all of the projects right now while trying to maintain communication with my boss in Uruguay and my replacement, whom I'm training this week. And I'm working on a writing project I just can't get to work for me (I've been working on the same project for a month). I hate grant reports with a passion.

I need a seious break. I'm trying to check into the comfort inn this weeekend for some R&R, but their phone number is not in my phone book. I'm going to do some online searching...otherwise I'm just going here.

Single digits

Nine days. 'Nuff said.

Bonk

Just got a call from host mom. Little host brother, who had been sick with a severe cough the past two days, was bonked on the head with a metal bar this morning by his cousin (the hellion) and rushed to the emergency room. He's on his way for x-rays. Ah, life with kids...

My replacement at work started yesterday. Due to some bureaucratic nightmarishness her contract hasn't been processed yet, and they won't let her have an e-mail address (and system access) until that is all processed. And in addition, my boss is out of town for the next week. Gah. She's great though, and it's been so nice to have someone else in the office this week with my boss and co-worker in Uruguay and my other officemate on vacation.

Good news is, I'm packed. All rady to go (except for the clothes and shoes and toiletries I have to use this week). Only ten days left, so I have to make them count...