Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

As David Bowie sings, “Turn and face the strange, Ch-ch-ch-changes…” The past couple of weeks have been full of changes and strange happenings, so sit tight because there might be some good stuff in this story.

A couple of weeks ago, two days before I had to leave for San Jose for PDM (Project and Design Management Workshop) and IST (In-Service Training), the couple that is living in my house had their baby. They brought home their bundle of joy the day before I was set to leave and I have now have an understanding as to why new parents always look so tired and haggard. It’s not a myth that babies don’t sleep, except in the case of my nephew back home...like the rest of us Suba’s, he’s been a sleeper since birth. Anyway, that was not the case with this baby. I was so tired and delusional, that when I woke up the morning I had to leave, I thought, “Wow, that chicken sounds really weird. What’s wrong with it? And why does it seem so close? Is it outside my window?” Blink, blink. Think. “Wait! That’s not a chicken. That’s the baby!” My chain of thought then jumped, “Ok, somebody take care of that! Saying a quick, ‘shhhh’ is not helping.” Now, I’m not a parent and thus no expert, but I’m 99.99% certain that when you have a newborn fussing, shushing it does nothing.

I got ready, and made sure everything was packed since it was decided that I would move my stuff that day so that when I got back from IST, Peace Corps would just have to check my new house and I would be set to move. The fact that the shower broke that morning only confirmed my convictions that I had to get out of there. I went to school and waited for my counterpart as he was going to help me speak to my host-mom and move my stuff before we set off for San Jose. I was also bringing him to participate in the PDM. Anyway, so we went to my house and realized that my host-mom had already left at like 4 am. Well, thanks a lot lady. No “Good night,” no “See you later,” or even “have a good trip.” I can only come to the conclusion that it doesn’t really matter to her what I do or where I am. Anyway, it was decided that I would move after training since it would be rude to just move without informing her.

Anyway, we went on our way, and PDM was awesome. It was actually really awesome. Not only was it fun to see my friends, but it was cool to work with our counterparts also. All of a sudden all of our training doesn’t seem so abstract anymore. Also, it was really interesting to see what all my peers have been up to and what their plans are for their communities. It made me super excited to start projects with the school and I’m thinking that Don Carlos, my counterpart, was getting excited also. He’s always been supportive of my ideas, but working together to go through the steps and process of carrying out a project is so helpful. My first project is going to be a Chic@s Poderos@s. That’s basically a 10-week workshop on a gender-focused group to work on self-esteem and positive attitudes, something that the kids here definitely need.

On the last day of the PDM, Don Carlos didn’t show up to the session. Being the paranoid person I am, I automatically dreaded the possibility that something had happened to him in his room. So, a few of the Peace Corps staff started to look for him. My boss finally got a hold of him and found out that someone had broken into his house and attacked his dogs. The good news is that after a trip to the vet, the dogs are OK, but it was definitely a scare. Other than that, PDM went super well. After being assured that everything was OK with Don Carlos, I was able to continue enjoying my time there.

To top things off, we were staying at a really nice hotel. It was really nice to live the cushy-life for a bit. It was exactly the break I was looking forward to for the past month or so. Life was good. The beds were incredibly comfy. There were hot showers with great water pressure. Rooms came with a flat screen TV. The gym! Oh man, I know it’s been a while since I’ve seen a gym, but really…a few of us just stood outside of it gawking and the machines. It’s quite the shock after being away from such technology for so long. What’s more of a shock is looking at your reflection in the mirror after months of not really seeing yourself. It’s not pretty. It’s quite scary actually. I have realized that when I’m at site, I’m walking around looking like a hot sweaty mess all the time. What a revelation. Anyway, we took advantage of all the resources available while we were in the city. I’m pretty sure that I gained back some of the weight I lost at site. It was a time to work hard during the day and play hard at night (or if you’re me, just relax and enjoy the company of friends).

All of a sudden, things took a change when the IST part of our training started. I’m pretty sure it not only surprised the PCV’s but also our Peace Corps staff. Let’s just say that there were a lot of WTF moments. I’m not sure what exactly set it off, but the tone of our group got pretty grim quickly. I think it started off with a few shared stories of rough times and just snowballed from there. One of our peers was especially having a tough time and it definitely set a ripple through our little group. It not only affected me because I was concerned for him and his well-being, but I know it made me check myself and where I stand in my service. I’m sure the others did as well. Our group cohesion was also brought into question. There is still debate as to whether that problem exists or not and whether it was relevant to our personal experiences. Anyway, our project team addressed the situation and gave us the time and space to talk about our expectations and how to improve our situations. Like mother wolves they shook us by the scruff a bit and reminded us that there’s a reason we’re here and that we shouldn’t so quickly go running with the negative events that have happened. The truth is that if any one of us keeps riding that train, he or she will lose the motivation to stay here and our already tiny group will dwindle further. Considering that we swore in with 14 and are now down to 11, it would be tough to lose anyone else. I suppose it’s a good thing that I am “blindly optimistic,” as my friend Maitreya describes me. I never really thought of myself as optimistic, in fact it’s kind of scary that people believe that I’m the optimistic one in the group. I would rather say that through all the chaos and mess that we call life, I’m just crazy hopeful. Either way, I’ll take it as a compliment. It can only work for me. I also believe that deep down the rest of us are silly people also living on the upside. I mean if I were the only optimistic person, nobody else would be here. I know we can bitch with the best of them, but we’re still here and moving forward, so we must be doing something right.

Anyway, the last day of IST I was not feeling so well. I went through the day feeling nauseous and light-headed. By that night, my joints were aching and I had a fever. My roommates, Emily and Claire decided that we should call the medical officers and go to the hospital. Turns out that was a bright idea. Claire took me to the hospital where they were surprisingly quick at getting to me. So I left her in the waiting room while I went into the triage room, they discovered that my heart was beating a bit fast and I expressed my concern about dengue since I seem to be the food of choice of all the insects in Costa Rica, but most especially the mosquitoes. There was also a bit of an outbreak in my region. Don’t worry; after the doctor checked me out, he said that it was a bacterial infection. I was then brought into the back where they had me lay on a bed. That was when one of the nurses brought out a cart. At this point I expected that they were going to draw blood for tests. I have to say, I can take shots like a champ, but something about sticking a foreign object into veins and blood makes me queasy. So, I look over to see what the nurse is doing and to my horror, he’s holding an IV needle. Oh man, that was some scary stuff. I actually broke out in a sweat. While I waited for whatever it was they were giving me, I updated my friends back at the hotel. They then rushed over with a bunch of stuff. While I couldn’t eat any of the goodies they picked up, I definitely appreciated the effort. It was really comforting to see my friends come out to support me. Although, I must say now having been the visitor and the patient, I would much rather be the visitor. Not only are you sick when you’re the one having visitors, but it’s also really disconcerting to see the worry on everyone else’s faces. It’s touching and at the same time completely freaky. After a couple of liters of whatever solution it was, they pulled out the IV (it hurts a lot more coming out than going in, thank you Claire for the heads up) and I was sent home.

The original plan was for me to go home the next day with one of my bosses, but because I was sick, I was ordered to stay in San Jose another day. That ended up being OK as there were a few others who had to stay in town for medical reasons as well. Here began the great hotel/hostel tour of San Jose. I managed to get another med day off and used some of my nights out to stay out of site for a few more days. From here, a bunch of us infirmed hopped around San Jose trying to find the most comfortable place for the best price. It was exhausting yet interesting. I now know which places I would never want to go back to and those that are nice but I probably will not use again unless Peace Corps foots the bill. While moving around was kind of a pain, it was nice to decompress among friends and do absolutely nothing. A few of us did go see Captain America which was a much better than the last movie I saw here in Costa Rica. I must say that I miss going to the movies. I truly am an escapist. It was also fun getting to spend some time with the RCD kids, since there hasn’t been much RCD/CYF inter-group hangouts.

After bumming around San Jose and refusing to return to site unless I could move houses straight away, the time finally came when I had to go back. That was definitely an interesting experience that I never want to repeat again. “They say that breaking up is hard to do…” and it’s true! Yeah I know, it’s just a host-family who I wasn’t super stoked on in the first place, but when you reject the crazy, they react, well…kind of crazy. So I was told to call my host-mom before I left the Peace Corps office with one of my bosses so that she would know when we would be getting into site. Naturally, after she assured me that she would be there, I assumed that when we got to the house she would be there. Well, we got there and she was not. So, we waited a bit and then decided to check my new house to save time. That went well. My boss really liked the family and thought it was a good fit. We went back to my house and my host-mom was still not there. So we waited for as long as we could before my boss had to leave. She did help me move some of my stuff first, though. So after she left, I went to the school to talk to one of the teachers about moving the rest of my stuff. She agreed and when we got to the house, my host-mom was there and we tried to explain why I had to leave. Let’s just say the reaction was bad. She refused to address me and didn’t believe that Peace Corps was behind me. She went into hiding as I took out the rest of my things from my room. I had to hunt her down to say thanks and tell her I was going. Her reply was a snooty, “Fine, I’m calling your boss.” I left the keys and went. Good riddance. I then e-mailed my boss to give her fair warning about voice mail that was waiting for her and explain the situation. As expected, she supported me and didn’t think it was a problem.

That situation does make me think that there should be some kind of training on how to break up with people with whom you would like to end relations. It sounds silly, but it can be tricky in another culture and language. Add the fact that most people want to get rid of their families or counterparts, it can be an extremely sticky situation. It produces lots of anxiety! I know many of us are experiencing this anxiety in some form or another. There really should be some kind of session on it.

So, now I’m settling into my new home. It consists of two parents and two daughters. It’s so different already. They are not only so mellow and peaceful, but they talk to me and want me to feel part of the family. They definitely have a humble lifestyle and don’t have much, but they are so nice that it’s easy to get past the lack of creature comforts. Also, the house is way better than my last one. The government has a program where they sometimes build poorer people houses. They were lucky enough to be one of those families. Don’t start to think I’m living it up though. My bed is basically a 2-inch foam cushion on ply board, but I don’t mind. I feel like I’ll be gaining a lot more than losing with this change. I guess the next step is to get to work and start projects. Let’s see how that goes.