When in Costa Rica…

This morning, we saw coffee plants, learned how they are grown, saw the roasting and packaging factory, and learnd a bit about the history of one of God´s great gifts to the world.  It´s cool to go to a coffee farm. 

It´s even more cool to go to the farm with your au pair´s father, who picked coffee cherries (it was cool to learn that term) for three years, beginning when he was fifteen.  Whose grandfather built his home on the coffee farm where he worked his entire life.

It´s super cool to come home from the coffee farm and have lunch with your au pair´s 95-year-old abuelo, who still thinks he´s working the farm and uses his walker to get around the ¨farm¨and clear the fields.

And it´s just plain humbling to see that same abuelo´s bed.  It´s in the room of Kathiana´s parents, right next to theirs, and has been for two years, since abuela died.  I took one look at that bed and almost started crying.  The boys were not as moved as I was, but I hope they sense in some small way the difference between the way most Costa Ricans treat their elders and the way too many Americans do.

Last week, we stayed in two luxury hotels by Costa Rican standards — by nearly any standard really.  This week, we are staying in Kathiana´s family´s home in Heredia.  Last week, we saw the glory of Costa Rican nature.  This week, we are witnessing the glory of Costa Rican culture, getting a small taste of what it means to live as a Tico. 

Last night, we visited friends we met while they were in Cambridge for a short stint.  The Padilla-Deborsts, who moved back to Latin America two years ago, are putting together an outrageous communal living situation in the middle of a rough neighborhood.  There were chickens and lots of people and a cloistered set of rooms.  There are plans for more houses on the lot, and apartments for single mothers, apartments that have shop space for micro-enterprise ventures.  The boys were none too impressed with all of that.  But they loved the way the teenage kids who live there doted on them, playing with them with a gentleness I rarely experience with American teens.  (BTW, the entire Padilla-Deborst clan sends a might HOLA to the entire Amigos family.)

Tonight, we are headed to the local stadium to see the Saprisa futbol team that is the favorito of our hosts.  Zach and Ezra are acting like they got superbowl tickets.  If there is one area where they would have no problem going Tico it is in their love of soccer.

There are other signs that we are no longer on the typical tourist trek.  On the way home from the coffee tour, we stopped at the church where Kathiana was baptized, her father was baptized, and her parents were married.  Ezra was impressed with the rituals of Catholism, the prayer kneelers, the robes, the candles.  Zach loved all of the ornate statues and paintings.

Whenever I am in a Catholic church, I light a candle for Scott, my first husband, who was Catholic.  And I light another for Sarah, our daughter who was born stillborn shortly after Scott died.  Today, the boys wanted to light one for Sarah, Our hermana! Ezra shouted.

This is something that would certainly never happen in our small Pentecostal church back home.  And I was glad that they didn´t ask me why we were doing this.  I don´t really know why I do this.  I just know that when I am in a Catholic church, it´s what I do. 

While we are in Costa Rica, we are trying to do as much as possible as the Costa Ricans do.  But I´d like to think that the boys will do some of this at home too someday.  I want them to let me sleep in their bedroom when I am 95.  I want them to know the value of hard work, even if it´s not in a coffee field.  And I want them to remember the long story out of which they were born, Scott and Sarah being a part of that.

I suppose it´s a bit much to hope that two weeks will do all of that.  I know it´s far more about how Jeff and I live than what we show them through a window.  I suppose that more than anything, today is a reminder more of who I want to be more than who I hope the boys will be.  Who knows what kind of life will be attractive to them?  Still, a girl can hope.

I´ll sign off today with the customary Pura Vida!  I can´t exactly translate the meaning, but when in Costa Rica…