Techno, the Universal Language. Farting the Universal Laugher-Maker

So i write to you all in Santo Domingo, a literal concrete jungle, littered with trash, sewage, and hair gel. About 20k from here is Bua, the small Satchilah Village that we have been staying in for the past three nights. Upon arriving to the Puebla we each hoped off the back of a truck and were set into our homestay houses in pairs. When my parter, Calyspo, and i hoped off of the truck we were greeted by two timid parents and four anxious kids who would become my adobted family for the next four weeks. The kids Anderson 8, Magdelena 6, Leo 3, and Julio 1 have since become our sleeping buddies for the past few nights. The family only has two double beds for the 6 members alone so Calypso and I somehow squeeze on to a bed with Magde and Ande. Their house is made of cement bricks and has just a tin roof that sits unbound on the top of the house. Just two tiny rooms, one for cooking and one for sleeping, is all they have, but as the majority of poor families here they somehow managed to fit a small TV in to the corner of the bedroom. Meals have consisted of starch and carbs, yuccah, potatoes and plantains. Definitely not my first choice of food. The kids love my bose head phones and my polaroid camera and most of all, the activity that brings the most joy and laughter into the house seems to be the farting. Perhaps it´s all the starch, parasites, or the altitude or maybe just an unfortunate indiginous gene, but whatever it is it´s ceasless. The kids are always farting and when we toot just a little an eruption of uncontralable laughter outbursts. One thing sort of on the same subject is the toilet, or hole rather. The bathroon that our family uses is more or less a hole in the ground dug between a few small trees. AHH So the next time you flush your toilet, eat anything yummy or take a sip of water think of me, and then say a little prayer, or at least send a ball of energy (k!). BTW we are showering in the River that we have come to restore which doubles as their sewage system, septic tank, laundry room, and pesticide collector. To wash or not to wash?
Last week we had a five days of work in Quito, Ecuadors Capital, sprawling east to west in a valley of the Andes Mountains. We stayed in a small hostel and spent the days visiting water plants and sanitacion experts, dancing with Salsa teachers and Ecuadorian gentleman, and practicing spanish with teachers and locals alike. At night we got in to a routine of going to a hole in the wall discoteca near our hostel. Many a nights were spent fist-pumping and dancing uncontrolably with the Ecuadorians who were brave enough to step in to a rave with a bunch of Gringos.
Our first project here is reforestation. Yesterday alone we dug, watered, and planted 300 cacao trees! woooo. Planting is hard and dirty and when you dont have a comfy bed or shower to come home to it can make the situation a little funny and a lot uncomfortable. Our bed, which is made of a wooden frame and a few pieces of wood laying perpendicular, breaks nightly and makes rolling over or readjusting a bit difficult.
So i am taking these malaria pills that are supposed to give you ¨colorful vivid dreams¨ and give you mood swings and make you depressed. I have been experiencing all three. Or maybe the depression part has to do something with me checking my email once a week and only have inbooxes from Priceline. But i dont know.
Anyway we are heading back to Bua right now, so no internet for a week¨...Adios

Poop and other Adventurous Subjects

So one thing that has taken some getting used to is the way the Costa Ricans go to restroom. Not because it's disgusting or dirty but really because it's so similar to the way we do it in America, with one small difference. Here they separate to toilet paper from the "human waste." As you can imagine this can be hard to remember and can result in some unanticipated "fishing." But the other day this simple difference led to an even funnier and, perhaps, more grotesque incident. Me and two other girls were winding down one night sitting outside of out screened in room contemplating boy problems, girl problems, and the surrendering of our vices. At a moment of weakness one of the girls decided to smoke a cigarette to relax and calm down. When we were done outside i went to use the bathroom (it had by then reached the point where we didn't feel the need to close the door, so accordingly i left it open) and one of the girls can in and but the cigarette out in the trash can. In a matter of seconds our trash was up in smoke and i intuitively reacted by sticking my hand in the pile of tissue to put out the fire, but in those few seconds i had forgotten that it wasn't a pile of used tissues but used toilet paper. Upon realizing what i had just done the two girls erupted in laughter. Before i knew it one was peeing in the near by shower (i was still using the toilet) and the other was filling up her hands with water from the sink to put out the fire. Once the fire was out we all continued to laugh for minutes more myself seated on the toilet, another pants down in the shower and another trying to maintain her footing on the tile floor. Needless to say, i washed and sanitized my hands thoroughly afterwords.
The past few days have been packed with seminars applying our knowledge of development and to questions such as "How big is the world?" "Can you live in America without affecting the lives of others?" "What do we assume about ourselves and others?" and "Who is responsible for development?" It's been both rewarding and disappointing that these questions lead to no clear answers but really just a greater number of more directed and specific questions. One thing I can say with confidence is that they are incredibly relevant and vital for every human, "developed" and not, to think about. I really could go on and on about how interesting and stimulating the classes have been but, for the sake of keeping you alert, that will do for now.
Today, as i have done most days, i got up a few hours before breakfast and carried my board to the beach to surf. Me and two other surfer-wanna-bees arrived at la playa and it was super low tide but the waves were huge. After getting beat up by the big stuff we decided to regain our confidence and just catch the white-water. ONce i was ready i made the tough paddle out to behind the where the big ones broke. There were several moments when i was on my board paddling in over a wave and thinking to myself "oh my god, this could be the end." They were huge, but i wanted to catch a big one so i reminded myself of all of the tips Del and Big Mike gave me on my lessons from Hawaii and right then i saw the perfect wave to drop in on. I paddled hard and when self doubt crossed my head i didnt even recognize it, i just kept paddling, stood up, and before i knew i was ripping down the face of the wave. It was the first time ive had a drop that big and it was awesome. A great way to start the say.
Anyway, feel free to email anyone, apparently Wallace is the only one who remembers me...BUT i love the comments! And SUSAN!! thank you and BGs love you. Everyday just gets better and better. Off to Ecuador on Saturday for a briefing in Quito and then we begin our homestays and projects in Bua. More to come. Love you all.

Continued..

Our discussions unlike any dialogue i've ever participated in. IN high school i remember, rightfully so or not, a lack of enthusiasm to contribute to in a class room setting because i didnt feel it was an appropriate audience to bounce my thoughts and ideas off of. But here every one has such a thorough understanding of the material that we are covering which enables the discussions to reach a much higher, more thoughtful level. I find myself not only inspired by what everyone has to say but challenged and encouraged to think more and harder than ever before. Yesterday, during the time allotted to writing a letter to ourselves to be opened in MAy, i decided to sit by the pool and catch some sun, sparing in the monsoon season here. I was quickly distracted by two local boys who were swimming in the pool and looking at me and giggling quietly. After a few unproductive minutes i decided to ask them what was so funny (in spanish, of course.) This quickly turned in to a underwater holding-your-breath contest followed by other simple pool games. One of the kids, Jordan, challenged me to race him across the pool underwater. The pool, which i think way contain more chlorine that water, was irritating my eyes terribly so i decided to close my eyes and just wait until i hit the wall on the other side. The race began and underwater i held my breath and did about 4 strokes of underwater breast stroke and was quickly put to a stop by the pool wall, except instead of my hands reaching the wall it was my head. I emerged from the water with a cut on my forehead, the bridge of my nose, and on the interior of my upper lip. Let's just say big lips actually don't look good on me. Yes, i swam into the pool wall. So my first wound abroad, (mom please dont get on a plane and fly to Costa Rica, I'm fine, really.) But about to begin another seminar on "Fear" so got to go. ok bye

CO-A-TE and Academia

We've been staying at a hostel in a small beach town called Ballea for the fast 5 nights now. We have reached the point to where the "how many siblings do have?" conversation has mostly come to an end. With that some real characters have began to emerge in the group. ANGIE or KAILEE if you're reading this, CO-A-TE has slowly but surely declared her tittles and the self proclaimed "LOD." Good thing there are a lot of people here to laugh with. To mention names or even recollect certain stories would be problematic given that my blog has been discovered by other members of the group. So as much as i would have loved to be a world traveling gossip-girl unfortunately that's not going to happen.
This morning myself and two other travelees decided to make to 30 minute walk to the beach with surf boards in hand to catch come OBOMERS (waves.) Our journey began at 6 to the rising sun and before we knew it we were in the warm pacific water, getting destroyed by waves. Luckily we all made it back in one piece to a breakfast of Gayo-pinto to eight. Each day we have a few seminars discussing topics such as "What is development?" "Who are you, and is that defined by yourself or how others perceive you?" BAh ok someones talking over this computer i'll finish tonight. more to come!

Planes, People, and Pizza

Today began really as a continuation of yesterday. Amid last nights frantic packing, modge-podging, picking out flattering family pictures and downloading the several discographies little sleeping was had. Actually no sleep at all unitl my flight to ATL at 5 am. where i passed out on the trey-table. Then another, stightly more alert flight to Houston where i met the rest of my traveling buddies. Immidiately after i got off the plane in HOU i saw another student who i had recfognized from the student contact information tbb had given us. After a few awkward minutes of stealthy stalking on my part i did my first dive of the day and introduced myself. Turns out it was one of the kids from my program, SAM, and we were both confused and desperately seeking a companion to make our way to the other terminal. To our luck, both of us had a terrible sence of direction and invaded utility elevators and several other places we probably should have been but eventually made it to Termial D. There we were greeted by a few farmiliar faces and went through monotonous introductions even though Im pretty sure we all knew eachothers names, home towns, and whether we were "rudamentary" or "conversational" in three different languages. Not quickly after introductions i walked with a few other students to go get a coffee and a muffin at the only place selling food in the international terminal. When i was forcing the plastic lid onto my coffee cup i pushed a little too hard and the coffe literaly spilled all over my face and white tank top. The kids i was with didnt know whether to laugh or run over to me with hand fulls of napkins. I cleaned myself up and tried to regain any good opinions anyone had formed of me. Flight number three to san salvador with a gas stop in Belieze. ON the last flight from San S to San Jose some one had taken my assigned seat so she could sit with her husband and she asked me if i would switch. I agreed (in spanish!) and ended up in the middle seat of an exit row between two burly men. Inicially i was pissed off at the woman and wanted to go practice my spanish curse words but my6 mind quickly changed once i began to talk to the men. The one on my riht was the Head of the Latin American Habitat for Humanity and the one to my right was the sustainable energy advisor for contries all over the world. I left not only with a load of new facts about green energy and consumption but with two buisness cards!!! NETWORKING. WE finally arrived at our hostel in San Jose at 10 pm and had a traditional Costa Rican meal...PIZZA! then quick dip in the pool and now sleep with my new buds. thanks parents! love you. More to come.

BIG LOVE, lucy pura vida

I don’t like to call it a gap, a year-off an interim.  Because really it’s none of those things.  A gap is an empty space, surrounded on both sides by content or matter (in this case, high school and college.)  But this year is hardly one that could be described by the word “gap” or anything synonymous with it.  I look forward to living with host families in eight different countries, coming face to face with some of the words most pressing challenges, and seeing how I can contribute myself in the future to those many varied issues.  But for now I am saying goodbye.  Goodbye to my car (which my dad has decided to sell?) goodbye to my phone (unless you have bbm!) goodbye to chocolate fondants and blondies cookies.  A few, more personal, goodbyes have already been had.  I walked in to what used to be called Sam’s room; now Charlie’s room of course, and quietly interrupted his game of WOW and facebook chat.  Then it went a little something like this…

           

              “Charlie I’m leaving….” no answer, “forever.”

            “Oh yeah I forgot about that, Bye lus.”  Charlie then reached his hand from down his pants and gave me a weak one handed hung.

            “Love you Sidie,” I said with a grotesque look on my face.

            “Love you too,” I hear over the sound of his keys typing.

                                                       THE END

 

Less distant, and more thoughtful was my dad.  He walked me out to my car and when we neared the front headlights he said,

            “Be careful hugging me, watch out for my arm.” We hug “EEeeEEkkkKK,” he screeched with a painful look on his face.  Then a few seconds of recovery time passed.

            “Ok, have an amazing year, learn a lot, and wear a helmet whenever there’s an opportunity.”

            “Thanks dad.” I said.  Then we exchanged a few, brief, more thoughtful words and that was that. See you in May.

 

Right now it is 11:08, Tuesday night and everything and more that is supposed to fit into my tiny backpack is strewn across my bedroom floor.  I threw away the suggested packing list and compiled my own supply of necessary objects.  Two to Three T-shirts? For one year?  Needless to say I am bringing 12.  It gets worse 5-7 pairs of undies? I decided to times that by four.  I have yet to attempt to fit all of my highly practical belongings into that tiny backpack…talk about pressing challenges, my plane leaves in six hours.  I also have to make room for my vision board, 4 cameras, 50 sheets of stickers and a year’s supply of tampons. BAH.  As Helen says, “See you on the other side!”

                                               

                                                                        Big Love, Lucy