Life as I know It

My plan was too keep up blogging as I got home. I hope this isn't a sign of things to come. But this is good, I think. I have no idea if any of you are still reading this and so it will even more so be truly myself.

I've been having random moments lately where I'll suddenly realize how strange my circumstances are. On Thursday it even occured in the comfort of my own home as I lugged a 5 gallon bucket through the living room for a homework assignment in my water conservation class. The portrait seemed so isolated from everything I've known so far this year. I no longer wander the streets of Atenas, unsure of how to greet people and always a little tense of misunderstandings that naturally occur while living in Spanish context. And then to think of camping in Oregon and hiking the West Coast Trail in August. I'm still me, and I was there in all those situations, but it truly does feel like other world's to me. Worlds that I find hard to describe and am glad when a fellow companion is alongside me to understand.

My world now is in Edmonton. I was quite intentional about setting up circumstances that I want to find myself in while I finish up my last year of school. Being part of my church, living with people different than me, spending time with family and having an accountability system set up to name a few. I'm glad to be in familiar circumstances with a plethora of challenges lying before me. Speaking of challenges, I've been procrastinating my geotechnical assignment long enough...time to work. Here are some pictures from the West Coast Trail if your curious.

James

O People

Hi Friends,

I was back in Canada, momentarily at least. It was amazing. I had been mentally preparing myself for something drastic while spending my last days in CR. My previous returns home have always felt somewhat anticlimatic and isolated. Combo'd with the idea of reverse cutlture shock that I was told to prepare for, I hadn't been expecting much of anything. But boy was I suprised. These last two weeks have been spent enjoying friends, family, celebrating weddings and p

reparing for a flurry of new adventures.

Apparently the typical response in returning to N. American life is to recognize how happy people are in the other parts of the world and be disgusted by our fervent materialism. While I have stood in amazement at the grandor of my sister's new 'starter home', this reaction has not been typical of me. This, coupled with no immediate desire to return back to Costa Rica, has caused some questioning in my mind if the CR experience has really changed me.

After pondering this question for some time, I think that part of the reason for this reaction WAS from the lessons that I've learned in CR. One of the most simple and obvious revelations I've had was the priority of relationships over everything else in my life. A simple example of the mindset I had been in beforehand was when my brother, last fall, announced his marriage on August 1st. I actually contemplated skipping his wedding so that I could spend the whole month of August surfing in Central America. Although I didn't make that decision, the fact that I was even contemplating the idea shows the value that I was placing on family and friends with respect to personal adventures and experiences. CR has showed me through separation from family, hispanic cultural values and spiritual lessons how much emphasis I should be putting on the people around me. And I think one of the reasons I've loved being back so much is that it has been so easy so far to put this lesson into practice. With no job or real responsibilities to get in my way, I've been able to put all my energy into being around people like you. The way it should be. Young adults camping, coffee and waffles with friends, standing up for my brother and new sister at their wedding, slacklining with relatives and visiting all the good people at CROW. I now find myself on the Washington interstate with two good friends on our way to windsurf the Columbia River Gorge. These last two weeks have been filled so much with people that the materialism fades into the distant background. The way it should be. Hope to see you soon. Cheers

Jimmy-James

El Terminar

Esta es mi terminar dia aqui en Costa Rica. Manana en the manana, yo voy para hogar de avion. Ellos ses meses pasado fue muy bien y yo apprendo mucho, en espanol, vida y Dios. Gracias cada uno para sus orars, palabras de alientos y sostenar. Yo espero y pienso que Dios fue glorfico y bendecion en el trabajar de eMi y la connecions hace con la iglesia y cuerpo mundo de Christo aqui. Yo voy siempre recuerdo mi familia y la aliento y maestros que nosotros estamos para ambos de nosotros. Es tota acerca de relacions. El vez para different causes es aqui. Hasta luego, Dios te bendiga.

The above is my attempt to say goodbye to CR in the the spanish that I've picked up. If you do understand spanish, bear with me as I'm sure it is riddled with mistakes and poor conjugations, but it is a long way from not knowing how to say hello 7 months ago. Here's what its supposed to say.

This is my last day in Costa Rica. Tomorrow morning I fly back to Canada. The past 6 months

have been very good and I've learned much, in spanish, life and God. Thankyou everyone for your prays, words of encouragement and support. I hope and think that God was glorified and blessed in the work of eMi and the connections made with the church and the worldwide body of Christ here. I will always remember my family here and the encouragement and lessons that we could give eachother. It's all about relationships. The time for different things is here. Until next time, God bless.

The Last Leg

I now find myself on the last leg of my journey, Mal Pais. I'm in a quaint, but busy hostel that sits in the balmy, humid climate of Pacific central Costa Rica. The purpose of this leg was two-fold: surfing and contemplation. I've grown quite fond of surfing at sunrise, mid-day and sunset while reading, writing and talking in between.

There's something about water and waves that gets me tickin. When I was in grade seven our family went to California; I had more fun boogie-boarding the small waves by the piers of Huntington beach than any theme park could offer. I think it was here that the seed was planted. Ten years later I find myself studying water engineering, taking any opportunity possible to visit the ocean or swim in fresh-water lakes and still enamoured as ever.

The hostel atmosphere that I find myself in was quite shocking initially. I had grown used to the Tico lifestyle of bedding down at 9pm and up at sunrise, as well as the missionary atmosphere where everything from morning prayer to our work has a sort of religious intentionality behind it. Coming here I find young travellers openly doing mushrooms in the common area, partying till the next morning and simply seeking to suck the marrow out of life. I'm don't think I am fully comfortable in either of these dichotomous situations. While I appreciate the value of the more disciplined lifestyle I've led in my time here, I also appreciate more openness in a 'secular' atmosphere like this where no one is trying to uphold an ideal. Perhaps while I'm here I can get a better of idea of what, if any, concrete lessons I've learned here and hope to transfer back to my context back home. I'm coming home next week! Hope to see you all soon.

Elusive Culture Points

I've been experiencing two different cultures while I'm down here. I work with Americans and live with Ticos. One of the things I've noticed is how difficult it is to define these cultures along with my own. Culture is a weird thing because although it makes a people distinct, it usually only reveals itself in subtle ways. I started thinking about this when asked about Canada's independence day after I covered our office in red maple leafs yesterday. We don't have an independence day, we have Canada day. We never fought for independence, but bashfully asked the brits to consider letting us govern ourselves. This is part of our heritage, our culture, but how it plays out on the streets, I am at a loss.

It is a little easier to notice differences in the Tico culture: language, how they greet another, etc., but for the most part there are so many nuances that make Ticos Tico. This makes any attempt at explaining culture adequately almost impossible. Things that I don't understand but only experience. Like why families eat with half broken dishes and cutlery, but dress amazingly well. Or how it appeared perfectly normal to be served pudding cake with a side of fresh tuna after small group last night.

I'm glad to be experiencing these nuances first hand but am looking forward to coming back to Canada where I can understand, even if I can't explain, why we do the things the way we do.

The end keeps creeping up. We are beginning to fill in eval forms and Alex mentions more often how little time we have left together. Sarah, began the pilgrimage of eMi interns back to North America last week. Susannah and Gretchen are leaving on the 13th while Marcos, Chad and Rachel and I are staying a while longer to enjoy all that Central American has to offer. I'm hoping to live on the beach and surf everyday before heading back to Canada on the 23rd. After a weekend of camping and catchup, on to Marc's and Tara's wedding on August 1st. The times are changing...again. Can't wait.

Atenas

As my time here comes to a close (3 more weeks with eMi) I find myself painting pictures in my head, detailing little euphoric scenes of the odds and ends that I experience here. On my walk home from work today I was caught by Atenas atmosphere. It's been rainy season for since mid-may. Daily afternoon showers have turned everything vivid greens. The rolling mountainous terrain allows me to peer across valleys and stare at the mosaic of countless greens in all the exotic plants. I never try to learn the names of all the plants and animals I see because my mind is already overflowing with various Spanish words that haven't quite found their place in my head yet. But their beauty is still appreciated regardless.

Atenas very much has a small town feel. People are rarely in a rush and the central park is always lively. A few times a week I stop at the bakery across from the park and buy a second breakfast. The staff recognize me (it' s not hard to recognize a white guy here) and are all too happy to teach me how to say 'cinnamon buns' or other sweet pastries in Spanish. The warm climate really does encourage warm hearts. I usually walk everywhere. Warm smiles and greetings are exchanged by the people I pass by on the way to work. I often envy those I see sitting on the patio chatting away over morning cafe. Porches are usually a big part of the home; the equivalent of a Canadian living room. Unfortunately my house seems to be the exception. The small patio was caged in before I arrived here for extra protection as the front door had previously been kicked in by an intruder. I have tried to make the most of the caged atmosphere though and use it to hang the hammock the bought in Nicaragua. This is where I am currently lying and writing.

The care-free, almost apathetic lifestyle is both enticing and frustrating. I like to think that I've somewhat adapted to it. When the power went out last week, my initial reaction was 'Cool, now we have more time to talk' rather than typical frustration with lack of productivity. Little things do start to annoy me though; lots of things in my home never seem to get fixed. Our toilet hasn't flushed properly since I arrived and a five-gallon bucket of water is constantly on hand to help it out. The drain on our kitchen sink has leaked for the past month and Alex seems to think that lying newspapers on the floor to soak up excess water seems to do a fine job. But one must take the good with the bad and I think all in all the care-free lifestyle fits with my personality. Everything always works out in the end; if it hasn't worked out yet, then it's not the end.

the Faithful Language Barrier

Today we celebrated 3 birthdays: Marco's, Kiko's (Marco's host dad) and Yorlenni's (my host mom). 30 or so persons met at Marcos' house after church and started the fun with a pinata. When my class studied Mexico in grade 2, all I really remember was that latinos pretty much just walked around in sombreros and broke pinatas. It turns out that the pinata part is actually true (at least from what I can see), at every birthday party I've been to there is a pinata. Arroz con pollo (rice with chicken) is also a staple, sometimes its called Arroz con siempre (rice with always) because we eat it so much. I personally prefer to mix things up a little and try Pollo con arroz every once in while. After supper the neatest thing happened. The pastor picked up a guitar and started a sing along. Eventually this turned into a small poetry recital and then into a competition. One guy would recite off a line that was both funny and rhyming and the next guy would get up and try to top it. As I was attempting to follow the rhymes, Alex got up and shouted across the room, "El Canadiense, Cantar, Cantar" (the Canadian, sing, sing! (something like this anyway)). I was a little taken back as in any large gathering I usually try to blend into the background because I can't hold my own with the language barrier and all. But I was on the spot, and with their insistent encouragement I sung the first song that came to mind, Big Rock Candy Mountain. I learned this song last year while paddling the mighty Nechako river. As I started singing, the pastor joined in with the guitar (he's very good and can pick up a tune instantly). The song is from 'O brother where art thou' and is about a hobo who is hiking to hobo heaven where 'little streams of alcohol come trickling down the rocks.' I was midway through the song when it struck me that I shouldn't really be singing this to a VERY conservative church crowd. For once I was thankful for the language barrier. Ignorance prevailed and I received a warm applause afterwards along with many compliments.