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Dianne says…
It’s Sunday today and Charles and I are settling into a kind of routine. We get up fairly early, I yell at the monkeys, we eat fresh fruit, bread, and coffee, and then we head off to do the day’s business. We explore and then we treat ourselves to a wonderful meal for lunch. Yesterday I had a whole fish fried and drenched in a sauce full of peppers and fruits and stuff. Today I had Chicken with rice, fried plantain and a salad. Man was it good. Our favorite place to eat is where the waitress makes up speak Spanish. She won’t serve us until we pronounce it properly. Today I pulled out my phrase book and smiled. She was so happy with me. She let me sit in one of the cloth covered chairs even though I had had a little run in with a giant wave that knocked me on my butt. Such a nice lady.
Then we pick up our bread and fruit and beer for supper, and head home.
Today we went to the grocery store to get some clothes pins, “la pinsa de la ropa”. I’ve had a run in with her before. She speaks no English and doesn’t do well with pointing and charades. She just looks annoyed. Today I practiced asking for the clothespins. When I asked her she narrowed her eyes at me and then burst into a giant smile and pronounced it properly. With great joy and laughter we got clothespins. Now I’m pretty sure she was laughing at me and not with me, but I got clothespins and she got a great story, I’m thinking.
People seem to really appreciate it if you try to speak Spanish, and those who know a few words in English like to smile from ear to ear, waving their hands, and yelling. It’s really very nice. I just wish I was less shy about speaking Spanish. I know what I want to say, but when the person is standing in front of me I chicken out.
This morning we got up early and went for a long hike in the National park. We hiked out to a point of land and back. It was a million km, I think. We hiked in and out of the jungle, always finding out way back to the ocean. Neat creatures and critters and, yes, monkeys. On the way back we split up and Charles walked through the shaded path and I walked on the beach. That’s when there was a little incident with a giant wave, but our money and stuff is almost dry now. My Kleenexes have turned into wet naps. I went to put some chap stick on my lips at the restaurant, but first had to dump out the salt water.
Tomorrow Charles heads off to the computer center do try to get some things physically working. It seems that this wonderful place of learning is really struggling. There is no internet or hydro and they are 7 months behind in rent. Charles is already working on getting things reconnected. Part of the problem is lack of money, but a big part is the bureaucracy. Things are so inexpensive by our standards. Rent is $171 US per month. Charles is going to help them find a way to make the center earn enough a month to sustain itself. Then it can continue to do the good work it has in the past.
I was struggling whether introducing computers and our western way of life into paradise was the right thing to do. People are frighteningly poor here, but despite the poverty it is a slow, pleasant way of life, or so it seems on the outside. People need very little money to survive here, but unfortunately, the easy source of income seems to be drugs, prostitution, and mooching beers off of the tourists. It breaks my heart to see these stunningly beautiful, young creatures wandering down the street, men leering at them, knowing what the evening will bring. The pace of life here doesn’t need to change, but the way to earn income most certainly should.
On Friday the government closed the elementary school. The roof is sagging and part of a wall seems unsafe. It is across the road from the computer center. Someone was telling us that they were trying to get the parents together to do some repairs. Shouldn’t take a lot of time, but no one wants to help. “Why should we fix the school? What difference does it make if the children go to school or not?”
One of the workers at the center is frustrated and angry. He said if it weren’t for the children he’d just give up and let the last generation live in their ignorance, but he would so like to see a break in the cycle of drugs and prostitution. “If it were not for the children.” He works 3 days a week in Limon, but the rest of the time he spends here trying to make a success of the center. He hasn’t been paid in almost a year. He says he doesn’t care as long as things can change for the children. We let him vent - and Charles gave him some hope with his ideas and I made him laugh. It’s not much but perhaps we’re starting to help a little.
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