The first time I learned Spanish, it was to satisfy a school requirement in 7th grade. The second time I learned Spanish it was for love – my first boyfriend in college was a Venezuelan and I wanted very much to know and understand his culture, especially the language.
Now in the process of learning Spanish for the third time in my life, it is to improve my own life and the lives of others.
I returned from Costa Rica through teary eyes and with a longing to stay among the people there. I was so fortunate to volunteer with a nonprofit called Cross-Cultural Solutions (CCS), a U.S.-based organization that organizes volunteer vacations to different sites around the world. The CCS staff in Costa Rica is exceptional, among the kindest and most competent people I have ever worked with.
I chose a placement in the city of Cartago because I have wanted to see Costa Rica for many years and that site was one of the few programs with the start date I wanted. I was prepared to go there to help the community in any way that I could, though it turned out that the people of Cartago had far more to offer me than I had to offer to them.
Our group of volunteers and staff, composed of some of the friendliest, funniest people I could have ever asked for, spent mornings at a senior center in San Rafael, a small community next to Cartago. The residents, known to the community as “abuelitos” (which translates to ‘grandparents’), were so grateful for our company and time. We sang and danced and did crafts with them. We laughed and shared stories. My Spanish is incredibly rusty, though I was so happy to be able to practice after over a decade of not using it at all. My grammar is terrible and my vocabulary is limited, though with the patience and kindness of the people in Costa Rica (known locally as “Ticos”) I was able to learn so much about the culture, language, and history in just one week.
The people of Costa Rica taught me how little I need to be happy, how much I have already, and the beauty of small kindnesses – three lessons that are invaluable and for which I am beyond grateful. From the moment I arrived in this happy country, it was evident that they are a deeply relaxed, confident, and joyful people. They have a culture that appreciates the idea of having enough and no more; they embody a sense of generosity and concern for others that is awe-inspiring.
Wherever You Go, You Are Home
The week zipped by too quickly and before I knew it we were on our way back to the airport for our return flights home. Our expert driver, Allan, wound through the twisting, turning, traffic-jammed streets of Costa Rica without a single trace of frustration. I was getting worried that I might miss my flight; we were still in the car an hour before take-off. “Mi vuelta es a la una.” (This made no sense to Allan because ‘vuelo’ is the word for ‘flight’ and ‘vuelta’, the word I was using, is one of the conjugations for the verb ‘to go back’.) “ ‘Vuelo’, Christa. ‘Vuelo.’ Tranquila. Es muy temprano.” (“Be calm. It’s very early,” he said.) I wasn’t even at the airport yet and already my panicked American ways were seeping back into my behavior. I followed Allan’s wise advice to calm down. He must have thought I was crazy to be worried about being at the airport an hour ahead of my fight – from the curb to the gate, it took 10 minutes and was the easiest check-in process I have ever experienced.
As I waited for my flight to take off, I was writing about my experiences, wishing so much for a sign that this is a country that I would return to again and again throughout my life. A moment later, they called my name on the overhead speaker. My immediate reaction was fear. A few years ago, my passport was stolen in South Africa and the U.S. embassy told me that I would have problems traveling abroad for many years because of that incident. I made my way to the front of the plane, panicked, and then I remembered Allan’s advice. Tranquila, Christa. Tranquila.
A very kind stewardess at the front of the plane handed me a new boarding pass with a wide smile. “Yo necesito tomar una otra vuelo, senora?” (“Do I need to take another flight?” I asked, a little proud that I used ‘vuelo’ instead of ‘vuelta’.) She just smiled. I looked at the new boarding pass – they bumped me to a first class seat. “No hay bastante sillas en coach.” (“There are not enough seats in coach,” she said with a wink.) As I sank into the comfortable seat, I realized that this was the sign I had just asked for, a perfect ending to a perfect trip. I look forward to returning to the Tico life very soon.
Christa Avampato 