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Recent
Longwood graduate Kindle Higgins reflects
Costa Rica - A Land of Enrichment Editor's note: Kindle Higgins, Class of 2000, visited Costa Rica during three different study abroad programs while she was a student majoring in psychology at Longwood College. The following story is taken from her daily journals. PART
I: ATENES
La
vida del campo
(or,
life in the country)
 I
am not quite sure when I became aware that my life would take such a
major turn through what seemed like such a small step. Maybe it was
being on an airplane that was preparing to touch-down in a country where
there appeared to be little of civilization as I had known it in my
life until that day. Miles and miles of dark vegetation and sprawling
hills were all I could see no buildings, no infrastructure, no
vehicles. As the landing gear locked into place, I thought, "What have
I gotten myself into?" I would soon realize that the vast areas of dark green growth were not dangerous jungles, but a variety of rainforests where I would spend the next two months exploring, learning, and living in an old chalk factory on the side of a canyon in a little village called Atones. I remember stepping off the airplane that first day, and I must admit that's where my "international education" truly began. Never had I seen a country so proud of its culture, yet so anxious to become immersed in my own. Costa Ricans, more typically and affectionately called "Ticos," flooded the airport eager to exploit the growing industry of tourism. Here I was in a strange country, all by myself grabbing my luggage, not knowing who was meeting me, hearing a loud barrage of unfamiliar Spanish (was this the same language I studied at Longwood?) and fighting my way through a gauntlet of shouting taxi drivers who competed for my business. Now this was education. PART
II: HEREDIA (or,
life in the city)
My second trip to Costa Rica gave me a much different perspective. This time I would live and learn in the more "civilized" city of Heredia, "The City of Flowers" which truly lived up to its name. No matter how small the house, there was sure to be some type of flower garden or beautiful shrub meticulously placed to decorate the entrances of most houses that were all gated. I could never get used to the gates. In a country that appeared to be so safe, all houses were subject to vandalism and other crimes. This was my first impression of what life was like in the city. I would also witness the most perilous driving I had ever seen, and learn to love the truly reliable bus lines. For about a dollar a day, I could travel on the bus within a 50-mile radius and that meant just about anywhere in Costa Rica. Throughout my time in Costa Rica, I remained great friends with the American students, but we all faced a struggle to separate from the comfort of our group. If we were to have a valuable learning experience, we had to abandon that comfort and try to associate with Ticos of our own age. It should come as no surprise that being a tall, light-haired female in Costa Rica provided me with a different yet interesting experience I was very different from the typical "Tica." I not only learned that opinions were formed about me based upon my sex and hair color but that stereotypes were formed about Americans as a group. To my surprise, catcalls from men that might seem outdated in the U.S. are alive and well in most parts of Costa Rica. Such verbal attention often left me more insecure than confident. It made me miss my first simple home on the side of a canyon in Atenes. I learned quickly to take these verbal callings as a form of flattery, never to make eye contact, and to keep on walking, offering a smile if it felt right. That was during the day. If I were to walk alone by myself at night, I learned that would put me in another category entirely stupid. Although Costa Rica is considered one of the safest countries in Latin America, common sense applies here just as well as it does in the States. But there is also a cultural taboo about women being out alone at night. As a college student, I noticed that the Costa Rican girls that I would see at school during the day would virtually vanish at night. In fact, I wondered if these girls ever went out and learned that most did not, especially after 9 p.m. Though a "night out with the girls" might seem harmless to me, in their eyes, I was one of those wild American students with no social conscience, etiquette, or morals. Being prejudged was a new experience for me. I was now the minority, the outsider, viewed as a stereotypical American female. Whether I was in
the city or in the country, life in Costa Rica was like living in a
fishbowl not only are all eyes upon you, but there is this invisible
divider that separates you from the locals. Most of my American friends
felt the same way. Men
and women are still considered far from equal in this country, but such
social inequality is improving, an evolutionary process in which the
whole country is participating. Progress, like the pace of life here,
is a little slower than back home.
PART
III: ESCAZU
The
internship that brought me back to Costa Rica for the third time
proved to be my most educational experience. I
lived within sight of my workplace the United States Embassy
nestled in the higher elevations of an area known as Escazu.
Considered posh by most locals, Escazu is the neighborhood of choice
for diplomats, business executives, and employees of the foreign
embassies in Costa Rica. Although considered somewhat safer, it
was still dangerous to walk by myself at night, and because of its
affluence, this area played host to a variety of American fast food
chains. The influence of my "mother country" never quite escaped
my time in Escazu. It seems the "golden arches" are just around
the bend no matter how far from home you travel. Working
as an intern for the United States Embassy was the opportunity of
a lifetime. Thinking back, a flood of emotions return, starting
with my first day on the job.
There
were so many new responsibilities to learn, so many new people to
meet. When I close my eyes, I can still hear the heavy "clank" of
the Embassy's iron gate that would let me enter and exit every day.
Always the guards smiled they have such an important job,
but they always remained super
friendly.
From the moment I first entered the Embassy, I knew my life would be guarded, protected, and even more than I had expected, observed! The Embassy looks like a fortress, overwhelming to most Ticos because of its immense size and elaborate design. I came to take such security for granted maybe it was that iron gate and those guards. I was trained thoroughly on embassy defense, security, and other matters from identifying every possible type of bomb to the many facets of terrorism. Never before had I appreciated national security more than I did that very first weekend. I had a newfound respect for my government and what it means to be an American. While attached to the Embassy, I worked for Mr. Franklin Foster, Senior Commercial Officer in the Department of Commerce. He was a great boss, a wonderful, brilliant mentor, and surprise a Virginian. In fact, he grew up only a few miles from my home in rural Virginia. What we shared in common, however, hardly helped to alleviate the intimidation generated by his amazingly professional mannerisms and perfect way of just doing about everything. I generally admired him more and more everyday. During my internship, I thoroughly enjoyed performing all the specialized duties for Mr. Foster and my co-workers even the grunt work was fun. I was able to meet daily with new people, successful businessmen and even aspiring entrepreneurs in Costa Rica, who dreamed about what business could mean for them in the United States. Learning about their hopes, dreams, fears, and perceptions of our economy was the most worthwhile and humbling experience I have ever had. My daily routine often included editing commercial reports and industrial sector analysis reports, giving tours, answering phones (sometimes very important calls!), as well as conducting market research all of which was all done en Español, of course. Most people will tell you that visiting a foreign country (especially a developing country) is a unique experience one that can leave you with a sense of patriotism and renewed pride in your home country. Although I consider Costa Rica my second home, arriving on U.S. soil after a long trip abroad brings a feeling of comfort, even if it's just coming home to familiar plumbing or an ice cold CocaCola seemingly little things that we take for granted. It's a feeling that can match the intensity of the fear you may feel when stepping on foreign soil for the first time by yourself.
Living and working on my own in a foreign country taught me how important
it is that we Americans represent ourselves in a proud and humble
way. In most developing countries, Americans are seen as over-worked,
materialistic, and status conscious devoting little time to
family-centered activities. Some of these characteristics are now
viewed by Ticos as popular and desirable, representing new indicators
of success. However, Costa Rica lacks the resources and infrastructure
that could promote widespread material, educational, and economic
growth.
From Ticos, I learned many things, many lessons that still leave my heart yearning for the simplicity of my life in Costa Rica. My adopted family in Heredia taught me how to spend hours at the dinner table, not eating but talking, laughing, reviewing the day. My friends at the Embassy taught me that in Costa Rica, it was okay to kick back around 4:30, because the work day really was over. Lunch became a long, restful, and even celebratory time of the day, sometimes longer than an hour and never to be taken at a desk by Costa Ricans. And I truly learned to admire the way Ticos valued their friends, often greeting each other with genuine hugs or kisses and none of the emotional baggage that we Americans often tote around. This, too, was part of my education. 10 things you should know before you go ... There
were some things that took me quite a while to learn and now, thankfully,
I can smile back on them. Here is my personal top ten list for survival
in Costa Rica ...
* I
should never hail a cab without making sure that the driver knows
where I want to go. I should also check his
eyesight and hearing in advance.
* I
should ride the bus always with pants on, even
if it is just a short ride to arrive at a local park
where
I jog (shorts are frowned upon).
* It's
okay even expected to be aggressive when trying
to get on a
bus, even if it means running after it.
* Even
though drivers appear to be rehearsing for a demolition
derby, they are not suicidal (Costa Rica
does,
however, have the second highest fatality rate in
the world for car accidents).
* It's
okay to take a little extra time for lunch, even
though I could never get used to the full hour.
* Never
say, "Hasta la vista, baby!"
* It's
OK to drink the water, but it's safer to drink the
cerveza (beer).
* It's
okay to be at least 15 minutes late ANYWHERE in Costa
Rica, except when you have an appointment with an
AMERICAN. Ticos call this "la hora gringa" and that
means be there at 7 a.m. if you say 7 a.m.
* Four
words: "Donde esta el bano?" (Where is the
bathroom?)
And
finally...
* It
really is OK for guys to pay for everything.
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