Alleluia! not as orphans are we left in sorrow now;
Alleluia! He is near us,
faith believes, nor questions how;
Though the cloud from sight received Him
when the forty days were o’er
Shall our hearts forget His promise,
“I am with you evermore”?
--William Dix, 1867
Every week I spend here is another week that my love for this city and its people grows. I can’t believe I’m writing that- making it an actual statement, but it’s true. The past week seems to have just flown by in terms of length, but when I look back on it, it was filled with interesting adventures.
First of all, we finally made the decision to get the internet. I’m thrilled about this because it means that I won’t have to haul my aging laptop all over Limon just to call home for fifteen minutes. However, in true Costa Rican style, it takes the company 22 days to install it. Despite all of that, it made for an interesting trip into town. The electric company here is the primary source of utilities for the people in the country. It’s like having Duke Power or Nashville Electric Supply in control of your very existence. Our phones are run by ICE (the name is an anagram, but people pronounce it “ee-say”), our lights, the internet, and even our cell phones. There isn’t a Sprint or T-Mobile provider- it all goes through ICE.
The ICE building is only second in importance to the hospital, which is its next door neighbor in a very high-end neighborhood called Vista Del Mar. The name has meaning- Vista Del Mar means “view of the sea” in English, and these doctors and lawyers are fortunate enough to have the ocean in their well-manicured backyards, and with it exclusive access to the boat launches ferrying passengers to and from Isla Uvita- the island just half a mile into the sea from the Limon coastline. ICE is just ten feet from the waterfront.
When we entered the building I was reminded of going to the Department of Motor Vehicles back home in North Carolina- they assign you a number based on the type of service needed, and you all wait together in a huge waiting room until someone calls “C52” or “Bingo,” whichever comes first. We waited for a million years. After an eon or so, the security guard, probably feeling bad for us, came over and asked Sara if she had her Gold Card. Apparently when you turn 65 in Costa Rica, the Social Security folks (yes, they have that here) give you a gold card that says you’re old and no longer have to pay for government services. That means free medical treatment, medications, bus rides, reduced rates on utilities, and the right to cut in front of anyone already in line at any Government office. Well, Sara is not 65 yet, so we had to keep waiting. Finally, we were called (2 hours later) and we had no sooner given the woman our phone number when she asked “Who is Joseph?” Apparently Sara’s utilities are in her son’s name. And he lives an hour away. And the lady at the counter just shook her head, printed off some power-of-attorney forms, and sent us back on our ways.
Well, when Sara decided to make the trip out to get the paperwork signed, another great Moravian lady here in town, Ninfa, called and picked me up to go get a cell phone. This was a huge breakthrough! I really needed that phone! Here in Costa Rica, they have just sold out of cell phone lines, so I couldn’t get a line of my own- Ninfa’s mother was happy to sublet her phone to me. Afterwards, Ninfa and I went on a miniature shopping spree. Ninfa knows everyone, and everyone knows her. We browsed in every shop- she is much like me in that sometimes we just want to go just to see what’s new, not to buy. Of course she introduced me to E-cono, which is like Dollar General but bigger and cheaper, and I ended up with a new pair of sunglasses and a pair of flip flops. She also introduced me to the Costa Rican smoothie.
Smoothies here are quite different from the US. They’re called Batidos, and they’re really just fruit. You can order them with milk or with water and they basically just toss in a variety of fruits and vegetable to your liking, you can add honey or frozen yogurt, but at a steep price. Then they blend them and pour it all in a cup. No pre-sweetened fruit juices here, folks, just the fruit fresh from the market that day and tossed into the blender or juicer. At first I didn’t think it was sweet enough, but it has grown on me and now I prefer them, especially as breakfast on Saturday mornings before I go to teach the kids class. (Which I still dread teaching.)
From the smoothie shop, it was off to class. This past Wednesday was the registration cut off for the trimester, so I was assured that the students I saw this week would be the students I could count on. I only had one new person, and she arrived early so that we could play catch up. Then something strange happened. As we were reviewing more students came in and started taking notes- these weren’t new students. But as they began to contribute to the review I had begun, I realized that they needed a refresher from the past two weeks as well. So that’s what we did- I gave a crash course in all that had been taught so far. They were more competent than they thought, but they were insecure and begged for more review. So we went back.
I did this in both classes, which was great- by the end they really felt competent and ready to go forward, I wrapped up the class back at the point where I had ended the previous Friday- with understanding the basic elements of music and then dedicating half an hour to listening to various examples of each element. I played everything from Bach to African music, and they ate it up. Several times I played music for them and noticed that many were crying. It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced that with anyone. When class was over no one would leave. One student even commented that she couldn’t believe that the class was already over and wished it would go on for hours. And no one moved.
It’s hard to imagine what they were thinking sitting there- I can only assume that they were hoping I’d just pick back up and go on with the class, but they waited hopefully until I had packed the CD player away and moved the board into storage. I have never experienced anything like that in my life- I think it might have been the pinnacle of my teaching career… I had a full class of adults hanging on my every word.
I don’t know what is going to happen here, but I feel like that silence was the calm before the storm- and in this case I don’t mean a storm in the negative sense. I mean a time of great revival is coming to the Limonese. These students are really learning, and may even catch just a little spark to inspire them to spread the passion along. At any rate, I know now- in a very profound way- that I have been able to provide the same kind of memory for them that my own father created for me when he put that old tape of the William Tell Overture in the old truck’s tape player- the kind of memory that helps a true love of music set in and take hold. I am going to be a part of their musical history. What a joy. What a responsibility…
First of all, we finally made the decision to get the internet. I’m thrilled about this because it means that I won’t have to haul my aging laptop all over Limon just to call home for fifteen minutes. However, in true Costa Rican style, it takes the company 22 days to install it. Despite all of that, it made for an interesting trip into town. The electric company here is the primary source of utilities for the people in the country. It’s like having Duke Power or Nashville Electric Supply in control of your very existence. Our phones are run by ICE (the name is an anagram, but people pronounce it “ee-say”), our lights, the internet, and even our cell phones. There isn’t a Sprint or T-Mobile provider- it all goes through ICE.
The ICE building is only second in importance to the hospital, which is its next door neighbor in a very high-end neighborhood called Vista Del Mar. The name has meaning- Vista Del Mar means “view of the sea” in English, and these doctors and lawyers are fortunate enough to have the ocean in their well-manicured backyards, and with it exclusive access to the boat launches ferrying passengers to and from Isla Uvita- the island just half a mile into the sea from the Limon coastline. ICE is just ten feet from the waterfront.
When we entered the building I was reminded of going to the Department of Motor Vehicles back home in North Carolina- they assign you a number based on the type of service needed, and you all wait together in a huge waiting room until someone calls “C52” or “Bingo,” whichever comes first. We waited for a million years. After an eon or so, the security guard, probably feeling bad for us, came over and asked Sara if she had her Gold Card. Apparently when you turn 65 in Costa Rica, the Social Security folks (yes, they have that here) give you a gold card that says you’re old and no longer have to pay for government services. That means free medical treatment, medications, bus rides, reduced rates on utilities, and the right to cut in front of anyone already in line at any Government office. Well, Sara is not 65 yet, so we had to keep waiting. Finally, we were called (2 hours later) and we had no sooner given the woman our phone number when she asked “Who is Joseph?” Apparently Sara’s utilities are in her son’s name. And he lives an hour away. And the lady at the counter just shook her head, printed off some power-of-attorney forms, and sent us back on our ways.
Well, when Sara decided to make the trip out to get the paperwork signed, another great Moravian lady here in town, Ninfa, called and picked me up to go get a cell phone. This was a huge breakthrough! I really needed that phone! Here in Costa Rica, they have just sold out of cell phone lines, so I couldn’t get a line of my own- Ninfa’s mother was happy to sublet her phone to me. Afterwards, Ninfa and I went on a miniature shopping spree. Ninfa knows everyone, and everyone knows her. We browsed in every shop- she is much like me in that sometimes we just want to go just to see what’s new, not to buy. Of course she introduced me to E-cono, which is like Dollar General but bigger and cheaper, and I ended up with a new pair of sunglasses and a pair of flip flops. She also introduced me to the Costa Rican smoothie.
Smoothies here are quite different from the US. They’re called Batidos, and they’re really just fruit. You can order them with milk or with water and they basically just toss in a variety of fruits and vegetable to your liking, you can add honey or frozen yogurt, but at a steep price. Then they blend them and pour it all in a cup. No pre-sweetened fruit juices here, folks, just the fruit fresh from the market that day and tossed into the blender or juicer. At first I didn’t think it was sweet enough, but it has grown on me and now I prefer them, especially as breakfast on Saturday mornings before I go to teach the kids class. (Which I still dread teaching.)
From the smoothie shop, it was off to class. This past Wednesday was the registration cut off for the trimester, so I was assured that the students I saw this week would be the students I could count on. I only had one new person, and she arrived early so that we could play catch up. Then something strange happened. As we were reviewing more students came in and started taking notes- these weren’t new students. But as they began to contribute to the review I had begun, I realized that they needed a refresher from the past two weeks as well. So that’s what we did- I gave a crash course in all that had been taught so far. They were more competent than they thought, but they were insecure and begged for more review. So we went back.
I did this in both classes, which was great- by the end they really felt competent and ready to go forward, I wrapped up the class back at the point where I had ended the previous Friday- with understanding the basic elements of music and then dedicating half an hour to listening to various examples of each element. I played everything from Bach to African music, and they ate it up. Several times I played music for them and noticed that many were crying. It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced that with anyone. When class was over no one would leave. One student even commented that she couldn’t believe that the class was already over and wished it would go on for hours. And no one moved.
It’s hard to imagine what they were thinking sitting there- I can only assume that they were hoping I’d just pick back up and go on with the class, but they waited hopefully until I had packed the CD player away and moved the board into storage. I have never experienced anything like that in my life- I think it might have been the pinnacle of my teaching career… I had a full class of adults hanging on my every word.
I don’t know what is going to happen here, but I feel like that silence was the calm before the storm- and in this case I don’t mean a storm in the negative sense. I mean a time of great revival is coming to the Limonese. These students are really learning, and may even catch just a little spark to inspire them to spread the passion along. At any rate, I know now- in a very profound way- that I have been able to provide the same kind of memory for them that my own father created for me when he put that old tape of the William Tell Overture in the old truck’s tape player- the kind of memory that helps a true love of music set in and take hold. I am going to be a part of their musical history. What a joy. What a responsibility…
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