26/1/11

9:03pm

And so back to holiday mode we go. It's been a long two days, but I'll start from the beginning.

We had another rather emotional farewell on the morning of our departure from the volunteer project. As excited for the adventure tour as we were, we all expressed similar sentiments in that we would miss our families a great deal more than we ever expected. My mother got quite teary again, but I managed to keep it together as I said goodbye for a final time.

The drive back to the city was long, due to some serious accidents on the roads. During the trip we saw a number of minor breakdowns/accidents, 3 ambulances, and even had to detour due to a highway being shut down. It made me realise how good Australian traffic is in comparison. I don't think I'd ever want to even own a licence if I lived in Costa Rica, their city driving makes Sydney CBD roads look like child's play.

When we finally arrived back in Heredia, all the girls from the project wanted to find a beautician, to undo two weeks of living in the near wilderness. There's a long story in that, of which my small role consisted of waiting and sympathy, but the moral of the story is never, ever get a wax in a developing country. In the words of one of the girls: "In Australia, I would shut that place down!"

We then used the Internet to do some catching up with society. It was great to be able to contact ever and see what they've been up to, actually using Facebook for its designed purpose for once. I spent a good hour or more there, and then returned to the B&B we were staying at to do some more catching up, with all the people who we parted ways with two weeks ago. It was a lot of fun, and I found that I actually missed a lot of people. We were all pretty rowdy too, because back in Australian time, we know Australian Day celebrations were well under way. So after our adventure tour orientation and dinner, we got all dolled up, pre-drunk, and hit up Heredia again. The bar wasn't busy at all, given it was a Tuesday night, but our large group made the most of it, busting out tunes like 'Down Under' and even the national anthem. I've met a bunch of fun people on this entire trip, and our nights out here never fail to be just as interesting and exciting, and just as fun in general, as my nights out on Oxford Street.

The next morning, we had to depart by 7am. Luckily it was a 5 hour trip, so I was able to catch up on some much needed sleep. When we finally arrived, it was obvious the fun part of the journey had finally arrived. The hotel is literally a minute stroll from the beach, and since we had the rest of our day free, I spent my time frolicking in the waves on the beach and soaking up some sun by the pool, hopefully getting rid of some tan lines. The view is gorgeous, every turn looks like you've just stepped into a postcard. Tomorrow we have surfing lessons and sea kayaking, and most likely exploring more of the bars and restaurants around town.

But right now I am exhausted. Even with the air con, it is still stinking hot, so sleeping could be a challenge. But the smell of salt and sandy skin permeates everything, and hopefully I can drift to sleep to the sound of the Pacific Ocean washing up onto the Costa Rican beach.

24/1/11

8:41pm

It's hard to believe I just had my last day here. Tomorrow we head back to the city at 7:30 in the morning. But today sure was a memorable string of events.

When I got up for breakfast, I found the Australian tea towel placed on display under the plastic table cover, right in between the two New Zealand ones. It helped spawn some conversation between my mother, my brother, and myself during lunch today, and it's heartwarming to know I'll always have a little place in this home.

I also realised I've made a few really good friends in some of the girls here on project. I went for a walk with one of them this morning (as well as our last day, it was our day off), as we did in our breaks a few days before, and found myself having a really deep and thoughtful conversation. Same goes for another pair of girls, who I spent over an hour to talking about all sorts of things this afternoon after our coffee meeting. We laughed about the most ridiculous things, but also had some quite serious topics of conversation. All in all, I've met some pretty amazing people, both Australian and Costa Rican, who I'm unlikely to forget any time soon.

For some unknown reason, my roommate wasn't home for dinner (he still isn't home now, either..), so I had my last meal here as the only visitor. It was nice, and easier because we got through all the emotional goodbyes last night. I also pulled out the paper and coloured pencils I intended to donate to the school, but the chance never really came around, and I can already see that my little sister is going to love them and make the most of them. I signed a couple of the drawings that I did and wrote my name under them. The most amazing thing was that after teaching the family how to pronounce my surname, my younger brother proceeded to recite my whole name, and added their own family name on the end. It was a true sign that I was really part of the family.

But just in case that wasn't enough, they made us t-shirts, with their family names and a photo of the town, as seen from the top of the mountain. I think I cried all my tears last night, but it was a touching moment, and now I have a meaningful souvenir to remember them by forever.

My roommate (who's since arrived home) ad I also brought them a soccer ball, which I know for a fact the whole family will love and use until it's as worn out as the one they have now. It's been a long two weeks in San Cristóbal Norte, but my time here really couldn't have ended on a better note. The cold showers, noisy nights and less-than-perfect beds may have been testing, but nothing comes close to the way this place has changed me for the better. No matter what happens in the next two weeks, I already know that I've had the time of my life on this trip.

23/1/11

10:22pm

It's as though the universe read my journal and made it it's mission to make me cry...

Even though it's our second last night here, the two leaders from the creative host organisation are leaving tomorrow, so we had a big farewell dinner with all the families tonight. It was good food (as usual) and there were a few games that brought out many laughs.

Then they sat all us volunteers down, and the mood took a serious turn. With the presence of a couple of people who spoke both Spanish and English, it became a time for each family to share a heart-felt message to the people they had been hosting, even though it was in front of a large crowd. Despite that, it was a very moving moment, and it was amazing see how close everyone had grown to their families in what was essentially (no matter how long they seemed to drag on) two short weeks. And needless to say, there was a dry eye in the house. As I felt the tears coming uncontrollably, I realised just how much a part of the family I have felt, and how much I've grown to love them all. Their words were absolutely beautiful, and I think I'm finally realising how life-changing this experience really is. It's made me want to learn Spanish to the point of fluency, then include San Cristóbal Norte in another travel that I plan in the future, maybe as a stop when I hope to someday do a tour of the states.

I'd like to say I got it all out of my system, but I feel like I'll be equally a mess come Tuesday morning. I thought my goodbye to my first mum in Heredia was emotional (which it still absolutely was), but it has nothing on the overwhelming farewell we had tonight. I just can't put into words, at least without repeating myself, how amazing this experience was, and how it's been something I will never, ever forget.

23/1/11

3:49pm

Today was the big day: the Pasecalles, or street parade. It wasn't what I expected, but it was sweet none-the-less. The school marching band took us around the main road of the town, and the kids waved masks and balloons and played their maracas made of plastic bottles. It was no Mardi Gras, but I realised for a small town like this it was a huge deal. The kids seemed to enjoy it, and that's what really counts.

Once we reached the school, we had to perform our educational skits with our masks. Hopefully the bigger meaning of all this isn't lost on the people, which is to practice recycling and looking after the unique, beautiful environment that surrounds them. After that was a lot of chit-chat and photos, while the townspeople inspected the multiple murals we'd been painting while we were here. When you create beautiful things like that, people start to really respect and take care of things, so hopefully the positive effects of our work there will carry on long after we leave.

I don't want to say I was underwhelmed: it was still a great experience, but not in the way I expected. I smiled and danced around, and had a bit of fun, but in the end it was really just an eye-opening experience., at how a collective of people can take so much joy out the simple things. After the parade, my father asked if he could take my mask back to our house. I don't know if he was just doing me a favour or if he was asking if he could keep it (which I'm intended to let him/them do), but just his expression as he was waving the monkey face around was enough to make these weeks, with the long hours, tedious repetitive work, and consistent, prominent homesickness, all completely worth it. Some people I know would laugh at a grown man for enjoying such a perceived childish toy, but I've come to respect my host father as a kind, gentle and caring man. It's a product of their family-oriented culture, no doubt, but I believe the profound effect him and his family have had on my will continue to resurface and surprise me for many months, or even years, to come.

Over lunch we all discussed the adventure tour, and we're all excited to get to the real 'fun' part of this journey. As excited as I am to go home, I'm also extremely keen for the adventure tour. Though having said that, saying my goodbyes here is going to prove harder than I ever would have expected.

22/1/11

10:54pm

After doing a few puzzles with our mum, I asked our father if he could take me back to the lookout point. It's another clear and beautiful night, and I hoped to maybe take a photo or two of the breathtaking view.

Unfortunately, the camera fails to do any justice to the magnificent sight. So after a moment of initial disappointment, the two of us stood there for a short while, in silence, soaking in the scenery. I stared long and hard at the beautiful, flickering lights, hoping that if I did so long enough, the image would be burned into the back of my mind, a private memory that no camera will ever replicate.

22/1/11

8:17pm

Tonight, I went to church for the first time in my life.

San Cristóbal Norte has two services: Sunday morning and Saturday evening. Since we have to be at the school early tomorrow to prepare for the parade, my only chance to witness a mass would be this evening. Despite having my own spirituality, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to experience the church service in a town where the entire population appears to be devout Catholics. Even though I have nothing else to compare it to, I still saw it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

It was very strange for a lot of reasons. First, and most obviously, the entire service was in Spanish, so I understood little of what was said. I found myself nodding off during parts when we were seated, but I managed to join in and mimic the tune of some of the hymns. There was a lot of love and affection between all the church-goers, and it's obvious how much their religion means to them. It's a sentiment I can still recognise and relate to, although for me any social aspect is not existent, with my spirituality being a mostly private affair, practiced in solitude.

The other thing that surprised me was eating the body of Christ. I expected the sermon, the singing, the kneeling and praying but that part caught me way off guard. Before I really know what was happening, I was being handed a small white circle of.. well, whatever it is. My blank stare was matched by the woman who handed it to me, who seemed almost as confused as I was, but at the fact that I didn't know what to do with it. I had to return to my pew and confirm with my host sister before I was sure it was safe to eat.

It had a strange texture and was completely void of any taste. As I stomached the foreign food, I pondered further on the complexities of religion, both this particular one, and the topic in general. Even my faith has a set of specific rituals not unlike Christianity, but I don't feel a need to follow them so strictly. Perhaps that's because I'm not bound to particular church, but in the end I still feel the same fulfilment that I've come to believe is the ultimate goal of any religion. I am just thankful my fluidity allows me to sit in on other faiths, and experience their customs, adding another step on my journey towards becoming an open-minded, inspired and well-rounded man.