"A thrill of hope! The weary world rejoices."

Today, I...

saw a different side of Carpio. Monday night I stayed with Carmen's family and last night I was at Lorena's. Both of these women cook for the Refuge and have been involved with Christ for the City since before my family was -- they have watched me grow up and are women that I strive to be like. They each have their own story that is far from being over. A little over a year ago, Lorena had tremendous healthy problems due to emotional overeating that lead to extreme obesity (she experienced the El Salvadorian civil war first hand; at twelve-years-old she witnessed a beheading and remembers falling asleep to the sound of gunshots). Because of Costa Rica's national health care, she was able to receive a free gastric bypass surgery and has lost over 150 pounds. This morning, I accompanied her on a daily hour-long walk. Living in Chicago, I love the rare occasions where I leave early enough to see the city awaken. The same goes for La Carpio.

Lorena's government ID before and after her procedure.

realized that I am here during the worst cold snap in recent Costa Rican memory. Today it dropped to a chilling 53.4 degrees fahrenheit. Everyone's whipping out their scarves and mittens. No joke.

learned what candied banana tastes like...yum!

smiled when I thought about our trip to the beach yesterday. Because of all the generous donations I received when raising support for my 9-month long trip, I was able to leave some money for other programs at the Refuge. I allocated a certain chunk for a day trip to the beach for the girls who passed their tests; they waited until I came to visit so I could go with them. We had a blast.

Tanya (5) and Zuyen (1) are the daughters of Ceci and Karen, two of my former students who passed their math exams.

We stopped to see the crocodiles in a river on the way over

(don't worry -- they were far from the beach!)

Cuties.

Ana Cecilia was raped by her step-father until she had Tanya when she was seventeen.

She said that having her daughter was the hardest and best decision of her life.

Although it was freezing in San Jose, the beach was gorgeous and warm.

That girl...

Mercedes is a sixteen-year-old who just learned how to read.

She had never seen the ocean and was literally shaking as she beheld it for the first time.

Lorena held her trembling hands in hers and said, "What do you think of it?"

Mercedes smiled and whispered, "It's just as I've always drawn it."

Yendry (far left) was a new student who had just begun as I was about to leave and has been doing very well academically. Carmen (middle) and Lorena (right) are the two cooks who I always talk about and love to infinity and beyond.

Our bus driver ignored my advice about saying "Uno, dos, tres!" when taking a picture.

This is the result.

- Hannah

PS The quote of the day comes from my favorite Christmas carol.

"No vamos a la iglesia, somos la iglesia."

Today, I...

saw my family's faces on skype -- Happy Birthday Papi! Good Henry story (there's a million of these): my brother found my dad's glasses and wrapped them up and gave them as a birthday present. When it comes to families, I REALLY lucked out. I've only been gone a week and I am far more homesick than I anticipated...Christmas does that to ya.

learned some more Spanish grammar from my host mom. Luckily seven months away from this place hasn't really affected my language skills, but I'm still extremely fortunate to have a teacher who lives with me (I've been saying that since my birth).

realized that this trip has been fantastic and I am so blessed to see people who mean so much to me, but I most likely will not be returning here for a while. This is not just because my travel has suddenly become a nightmare (because of a missed flight, my ticket had to be paid for twice...and then some), but also because I am looking for permanence. During my entire senior year of highschool, graduation was looming and I knew there was a ticking lock on my time with the people that I love. Going into my gap year, I knew I only had nine months to foster these relationships. Then I was back in Anacortes for the summer -- a single season -- and finally I landed in Chicago, a place that has no expiration date. Looking at the week I've spent here and the week I have left, I wouldn't change this trip for anything. I'm just realizing these short visits probably won't happen again. As I've said before, a huge part of my heart belongs in this place so I know I will return, but I've come to understand that Costa Rica is place where I live, not a place I visit.

smiled at the array of produce now in our kitchen that you can't find in the US!



- Hannah

PS Today's quote comes from my pastor's sermon (some of you had heard that he looks like Voldemort. It's true, but he has really great things to say). It means "We don't go to church, we are the church."

"Most good things have been said far too many times and just need to be lived."

Today, I...

saw the premature throng of Costa Ricans anticipating the Festival de la Luz. This Christmas chaos is the country's Macy's parade. It took me nearly three hours to get home.

realized I did not miss this (yes, in my house):


learned that I'm becoming much more proficient at teaching. Today I was in charge of the Saturday craft and we quickly whipped up origami ornaments. I've taught these girls how to make cranes three times in my life, and today's activity took forty minutes less than usual.

smiled as I spent time with Don Horacio (an Argentian pastor who baptized my brother and came to visit Anacortes this summer), and later laughed with my extended host family around a feast of plantains, tortillas, fresh bread, cilantro-concentrated salad, and a bowl of canned fruit/jell-O/ice cream. I love it here.

- Hannah

PS Today's title is a quite by my man Shane Claiborne. Another one I love: "To refer to the Church as a building is to call people 2 x 4's."

"Roll away your stone, I'll roll away mine."

Today, I...

saw all the Christmas lights in San José. It made me remember this night:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=riM5N-a4Dks

realized that I had a ton of time to process things on the bus. Every day, I commuted an hour and a half to La Carpio and an hour and a half back. This was a great way to reflect, pray, and conjure up Harry Potter camp. I miss having those hours to myself.

learned that I just might be the only gringa on the planet who likes papaya.

smiled when I took some pre-wedding photos of Kimi and Jraul. It's so wonderful taking pictures of people who are so in love -- their faces are constantly glowing!

- Hannah

PS The title of this post is from the song "Roll Away Your Stone" by Mumford and Sons. Check it out if you haven't.

PPS When I was here as a seventh-grader, my father mentored a fifteen-year-old boy named Mario who now attends the University of Costa Rica on a full scholarship for mathematics. He took my spot teaching seventh grade algebra and every single one of his students passed their government exam. I offered to take pictures of him in his new element: skateboarding.

So I'm back...

As many of you know, I am currently back in Costa Rica for two weeks. A young woman who previously lived with my host family is getting married on December 18th and I have the privilege of taking her wedding pictures!

I can't promise that I will post every night on this trip, but I figured that since I'm here, I might as well update.



Today, I...

saw a woman wearing a shirt that said "Beauty is in the eye of the beerholder." She was at least 7 months pregnant.

realized how much I had missed conversations with my host family. They truly are beautiful people.



learned that Nazareth, a 16-year-old who had her baby Jeremy two weeks before I left (meaning I was present for almost her entire pregnancy), has become involved in violent activity and now lives with a gang leader. His life, along with hers, was threatened so the two of them moved to another province. She left Jeremy with her mom and is rumored to be pregnant again.

smiled when I learned that I will be going to the beach on Tuesday with the seven girls who passed their tests!


- Hannah

PS Just downloaded the 30-day photoshop free trial...what do you think?

Day 18.

I meant to share this a while ago, but neglected to. If you'd like to hear the message I shared at my church two weeks ago about my time in Costa Rica, click this link:

http://wpcanacortes.com/component/option,com_sermonspeaker/Itemid,13/id,10123/task,singlesermon/

God bless,

Hannah

Day 1.

Today, I...

saw many of my friends for the first time in nine months.

missed Costa Rica.

realized I am going to miss this community when I leave it again in four months.

learned that it's not all that hard to pick up where you left off.

smiled when I began reading my blog for the first time.

- Hannah

PS Some people have been asking me if I'm going to keep up with this blog. The answer is no. It was a great way to process my experience in Costa Rica as it happened, but I'm ready to end that chapter of my life. I will continue with my "Why I Love My Life" blog, so feel free to check that out every once in a while.

PPS God bless.

Day 255.

Today, I...

saw how much I mean to these people and how much they mean to me.

missed associating the word "tomorrow" with Costa Rica.

realized I am going to miss daydreaming about Washington.

learned what it feels like to have some one sob in your arms.

smiled when I saw God in the sun -- the same sun that shines all over our planet.

-Hannah

Day 253.

Sorry for not writing for such a long time -- my final week here has been incredibly packed full of amazing memories that I'm glad I'm making before I leave. Let me list a few of them here. Within this last week, I...

• Learned that at this point, we know for sure one girl passed her math test, two are on the fence, one we're pretty sure didn't pass, and another we haven't heard from. Unlike the SAT's and AP's that I'm used to, students are allowed to take their test booklets directly home with them, so teachers can see what they marked and review their answers immediately.
  
• Visited the house of Griselda, one of my students who has had me for every class I teach. She lives with her mother, three siblings, sister-in-law, and her brother's four kids. The roof came up to my nose and in every picture I took with her, I look like I have a severe case of scoliosis. Her mom served us atól: a boiled concoction of flour, water, sugar, and cinamon sticks that is then chilled to an almost gritty gelatin. Basically it looks like paste in a mug.
• Listened to the guard at CFCI's educational building talk about all the murders he's seen take place while he worked. Many of them happened at six or seven in the morning/evening and the killer walked away with a new cell phone, a thousand colones (about two dollars), or some times nothing at all.
  
• Sat in on the La Carpio Sunday School Band practice; two girls and four guys have been playing together for the past few months (the girls are both from the Refuge and I've known the boys since they were all ten). The sound has always been a little...off. Finally I asked Axel, the guitarist, when he last tuned his electric guitar. He hadn't. Let's just say it made quite the difference.
  
• Spent the night at Lorena's house on Tuesday night. Lorena is one of the cooks in the Refuge and I remember receiving many bear hugs from her as a twelve-year-old. Her home (like Carmen's) has a constant flow of teenage boys passing through -- her son, her daughter's boyfriend, her nephew who lives with them, and two other nephews who live down the street. The whole lot of us feasted on pupusas (a traditional meal from her native El Salvador -- a masa based dumpling filled with cheese, beans, and chicken, then flattened into a patty and grilled. SUPER DELICIOUS). Afterwards, I started asking her a little bit about her life in El Salvador and she showed me a documentary about the war that started a year after her birth and ended a year before she left. The documentary was in Spanish, except for the occasional clip cut directly from the 1985 Frontline documentary -- Mommy, we're watching that when I get home -- and I learned that in a decade and a half, an estimated 75,000 people died, Lorena's uncles and cousins among them. She remembered how her dad would surround their kitchen table with couches, cover it in cushions, and how her entire family would sleep in what my brothers and I would mistake for a home-made fort. "You see," she said to me, "bullets don't go through pillows." In the mornings, she and her siblings would poke their heads out, make sure no one was firing, and collect the bullet shells burried along their home. When I asked her how she slept during all of that firing, she looked at me blankly: "Hannah, sleep comes to those who are exhausted." The next morning, Carmen, Lorena, and I were going for a walk around the fields at New Horizons when I brought up what we had been discussing the night before. Carmen, Lorena's best friend of nearly ten years, had never heard any of these stories. I listened to one friend tell another about watching an entire basketball court of innocent men and women be shot and raped. The only reason Lorena made it out was because one of the guerilla fighters (a boy of fourteen) recognized her and her brother and told them to run up a mountain before anything started. Or about the time when she witnessed a beheading by machete and how the body stumbled for a few meters, eyes lolled, and blood ran as if it was hooked up to a hose. Lorena has held onto that memory since she was twelve-years-old.
  
• Rode in the back of a truck for the last time in a while I believe.
• Had a short visit in the home of Yancy, one of my other students. I added up all my house visits, and I know I've reached at least ten. That doesn't seem like a big deal, but to be invited into some one's home is such an honor here. On the way to her house, Yancy suggested we visit Kassandra's home (Kassandra is one of my math students who refuses to let me take her picture). Kassandra was walking with us and I automatically expected a blushed shake of her head saying no, but to my joyful surprise, she agreed. We ventured into her teeny three room apartment -- there was a living room, a room for her parents, and a pair of bunkbeds for her and her siblings. They all share a communal bathroom and kitchen with other families.
• Got absolutely drenched in a terrible terrible rainstorm. Good thing I'm leaving just as the rainy season is starting up.
• Was prayed for by Kellie (the short term director who I stayed with my first night here), and Don Horacio, the Argentinian pastor who invited me to help with the Christmas dinner for San Jose's homeless. He told me that last week, he spent a night on the streets with the people he ministers to. They watched his back as if he was one of their own.
• Went out to eat with Kellie and Brenna (another short term missionary who is leaving two days after I am). We scarfed down a ridiculous helping of horchata and a delicious pineapple and meat dish.
• Watched "Once" with Kathy, Brenna, and Megan. I had never seen that entire movie before -- there's something so raw and real about music.
• Enjoyed a paseo -- day trip -- with the girls who presented their exams and a handful of teachers. We experienced a covered pool, relaxing sauna, tons of barbecued meat, eating cake without utensils, a fun round of "Roller Coaster", and my favorite part: when Carmen spent an hour picking out the dead lice eggs that still cling to my hair. Yes, this was done in public. Without shame.
• Got to hold baby Yitsuly, the week-old daughter of Grethel, one of my best friends from when I used to live here. She's so beautiful, constantly smiling and showing off her mother's dimples. Karen (one of my students who happens to be Grethel's cousin) came with me and the three of us held that living, breathing being that had only days before never even seen the sun.
• Spent the night one last time at Carmen's house. All in all, there were 13 of us -- every single person shared a bed with some one -- and I can't even tell you how many times I swore I was going to wet myself I was laughing so hard. Luckily we caught most of it on my camera, so maybe some of you will see what I'm talking about, but I know no one will find it as hilarious as I did. This morning when I woke up at 5:30 (thank you roosters, radio, and airplanes), I got up to go to the bathroom and saw that Cesar, Carmen's husband, had already left for work. Carmen peeped her head out of her blankets and I smiled, thinking about all the times she told me about how her kids (all teens now) will still crawl into bed with her. As if she knew exactly what was going through my head, she pulled back the sheets and patted the empty half of the mattress. I curled up in her thick, dark Nicaraguan arms as she fell back asleep. The rest of the boys were still in bed and while I knew that one day, hopefully sooner than later, I would be back in this home with these people, that it would never be the same as that instant. I know God has many more blessings to surprise me with (which is hard for me to grasp -- He's already thrown so many my way already), but the fact is, this time in my life is over. The poster board that all of Carmen's sons and their friends signed for me rested on the concrete floor and I looked at each name. Axel will have to work soon. Jeffry hopefully will make it out of Carpio to study some where else. Oskar will probably go to school back in the States where his dad is. The seven-year-old Jose won't make puppy sounds for that much longer. Statistically, at least one of the eight boys who signed their names will most likely be a dad the next time I'm in La Carpio. I remember having the same realization last year right about this time -- I'm leaving my friends. Yes, there will be emails and skype calls and letters and later visits, but we all will change. I'm leaving them as I know them and I'm leaving myself as they know me. Tomorrow none of us will be the same. While Carmen's soft Saturday morning snores settled onto my shoulder, one healthy tear made its way from my heart into the fibres of her home.
  
• Remembered that when I left La Carpio last time, I held a six-year-old Valesky (Carmen's only daughter) in my arms and wept at the thought of never getting to watch her grow up. Funny, isn't it, how God put her back in my life now that she is the exact age I was when I last saw her?

I know next time I'm here, new memories will be waiting for me.
- Hannah

Day 247.

Today, I...

saw my host mom deal someone the finger as we drove to our family picnic up in the mountains. While it's not nearly as offensive here as it is in the States, it still made me gasp/chuckle as I realized that even after living with some one for 8 months, they can still throw you for a loop.

missed being in a place where I don't wake up with unknown bites covering my body every morning.

realized I am going to miss Sunday drives with my host family. There's nothing like warm valley air riding on the backs of Danilo Montero lyrics, making your eyes water as they try and take in all the sounds and smells that lazily zoom past your open window.

learned that I still have a ways to go with my Spanish...I played pictionary with my host siblings (in-laws included) and had a tough go of things.

smiled when I wrote my "to-do" list for the week, looked down when I finished, and only then realized I had written the entire thing in Spanish. Maybe I am making progress after all.

- Hannah

Day 246.

Today, I...

saw that maybe my creative juices haven't run dry after all! Megan, Brenna, and I accomplished a sweet little graffiti project in a park near my house (pictures posted later). Later, I spent my afternoon sketching one of my favorite portraits of Tanya that I think turned out pretty well. It'll make a great going away present for her mom at least.

missed my hot tub...

realized I am going to miss my host dad so so much. He keeps hinting about how he's going to shed some tears when we part.

learned that we aren't going to the beach after all... In standard tico culture protocol, when I showed up at my front door at 1 pm, overnight bag in tow, my host mom said, "Oh, didn't you know? Your host dad has to work late and Raquel has to pick up her driver's permit." We are, however, going to have a picnic with the entire family tomorrow -- supposedly.

smiled when I got some sun today. Maybe I won't come home white after all!

- Hannah

PS I can't believe I said anything about this earlier. My high school back in the States is taking part in an incredibly sweet music video competition. Check out what they made and vote for them here: http://goskagit.upickem.net/engine/welcome.aspx. We're only 100 votes behind Sedro!

Day 243.

Today, I...

saw Nazareth's baby for the first time! Little Jeremy was born three days ago and is a teeny bean of a being. Naza lives in a semi-sketch part of La Carpio (it's the entrance to what's known as La Cueva or "The Cave"), so I was accompanied by two of my other students. The beautiful thing is that both of them also have their own children; Karen has one-year-old Suyen and Ceci has four-year-old Tanya. I felt so out of place, but so honored, to be included in their conversations about childbirth, hospital rooms, and crying the first time they saw their children.

missed my mom's baked sweet potatoes.

realized I am going to miss getting the ghetto-hello-nod from busdrivers in Carpio. Anacortes is such a close-knit community -- I loved being able to walk anywhere and have people greet me by name, often by people I didn't even recognize. The same thing is happening where I work. Whenever I meander down the dusty garbage roads, little girls will leap into my long arms, parents will ask how their daughters are doing in my ukulele choir, younger siblings scream my name from across the street. I've become a part of this place.

learned that my host family is going to take me to the beach this weekend! It's my host dad's birthday on Sunday and my host mom wanted me to make it to the Pacific Ocean one last time (I gently reminded her that I live on the Pacific Ocean, but she then gently reminded me that I cannot swim in my Pacific Ocean).

smiled when I began planning which treasured belongings I'd leave with each girl who gave me a piece of her heart.

- Hannah

PS Enjoy. :)

Day 242.

Today, I...

saw that I've been here for eight months today. For those of you who think eight months is a long time, it really isn't. For those of you who think eight months isn't that long, it really is. The rainy season has come and gone and come again. Shoes have gone out of style, hair has grown. Babies have been born, first steps have been taken. Spanish has been learned and Calculus forgotten. My brothers have grown taller. I've grown wider. The sun sets in a different spot on the horizon. Memories have faded and others have taken their place. I've changed. I've been changed.

missed hanging up cords in Mr. Thompon's digital media room. It's a strange thing how pieces of your life fling themselves back at you when you least expect it, like hearing Shaggy's "You're My Angel" blasting out of a shoe store and thinking of the fourth grade Valentine's dance.

realized I am going to miss this state of transition. This year for me has been such a great step -- now I'm about to go make a much more permanent home in Chicago come September. I like the limbo though; it's a lot of looking back and gazing forward.

smiled as my heart split and swallowed up all my homesickness. Little Tanya, the daughter of one of my students (she's wearing a crown in a photo I posted recently), flew up to me, latching her skinny arms around my neck and smothering my cheek in a sticky lollipop kiss. I held onto that moment, wrapped it in a fragile lining of simple smiles, and laid it down next to other things I carry within me. Wrenched back to reality, I broke the news to Tanya.

"Tengo que irme en dos semanas. I'm leaving two weeks from today."
"¿Pero por que? But why?"
"I need to work. I need to study."
She looked at me, her elbows hugging my neck, fingers toying with the sun-bleached frizz-curls at the nape of my scalp. All her movement stilled as my reflection grew in her brightening cow eyes. The wisdom of children radiated from her.
"Why don't you just stay and study here at the Refuge?"

- Hannah

Day 241.

Today I...

saw a kid in Carpio wearing a Seattle Sonics jersey. That made my heart hurt a little.

missed the sea and the part of me squeezed between the magazines in the library.

realized I am going to miss looking out the bus window after my classes, passing my girls as they run in between the raindrops on their way home. I'm going to miss the way they smile up at me and wave their goodbyes until I come back the next day. In two weeks, there won't be a next day.

learned that my students don't get their test results back until May 14! The test itself is this Sunday, and I'm feeling pretty good about it. We finished all the material on Friday and are having a pretty intense review. For two of my students, it will be the third time they've taken this test.

smiled when I taught the girls how to play Mafia. Brought back so many memories as I simultaneously made new ones.

- Hannah

Day 240.

So this is it. The end.
I leave two weeks from Tuesday -- I hope this gives you a glimpse of how hard it will be for me to say goodbye:

Day 239.

So I'm not sure if you all can view this yet (sometimes youtube takes a while to process), but here's something I thought I'd share:



One final Video Update should be up this weekend...
- Hannah

Day 238.

Within the last week, I have had several experiences that make me realize how God is teaching me to value this place for everything it is -- the good, the bad, and the in between. There is no where else like it on earth.

Let me share a few happenings:

As I got off the bus today in Carpio, a school-uniformed girl leaped out of her mother's embrace and flew to me. She flung her arms around my waist, pressed her head into my gallo-pinto-filled stomach, and just as quickly dashed back to hide herself in her mother's arms. I never saw her face. I have no idea who she was.

Two days ago I was watching the news with my family when a story about a protest at the University of Costa Rica came on. I watched as policemen brutally beat enraged professors and students; they kept playing the same clip of a man getting his mouth bloodied until he spat out teeth.

Earlier that morning, I was running late to work and got to the bus stop just as the bus took off. Another woman had done the same and we began small talking. Did I speak Spanish? Yes. Was I a student? No. Was I a Christian? Yes...how did she know? She could "just tell." She began talking about her faith, how she had gone to church until five years ago when her now ex-husband began sleeping with another woman in her congregation. How could God do that? Wasn't she doing the right thing, being in His house? Didn't He know what heartbreak felt like? Before I knew it, this tired woman was crying in front of me -- I had known her for all of two minutes and her bruised spirit was breaking down. I had no words of comfort, no easy answers. I asked if I could pray for her. The two of us held hands and hearts as we clung to the only similarity between us: a God that loves abnormally tall gringas and fragile ticas.

During class today, blue skies hid themselves and we were in the middle of quite possibly the worst rainstorm I have experienced yet. Lightning and thunder struck almost simultaneously and the tin roof made it pointless to try and bellow instructions to my students. As the rain lightened, class ended and I went out the gate with Katherinne, Karen, and her baby Suyen under my umbrella. Katherinne asked me if I had every slipped and fallen because of the rain and I told her that although I was an American (and thus quite the klutz), I had never wiped out due to the weather. Less than two minutes later, as we joked about baby names and long days, I lost my footing and plunged shin-deep into a drainage ditch. That sounds gross enough, but let me kindly remind you this was a drainage ditch in La Carpio -- the stagnant rainwater is an opaque black from motor oil, dust, kilograms of garbage, and I don't want to know what else. As if that wasn't enough, my foot got caught and my knee scraped against the slick street; I was a muddy bloody mess. Katherinne whisked me into her home three blocks away where her mother cleaned my wounds with cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol. While the stinging stopped, I sipped on warm milk and watched a vomit-inducing romance reality show with Katherinne, her five siblings, cousin, mother, and Karen with baby Suyen in tow. At that moment I wondered how I can ever dream of leaving this place.

A woman on the mission team from Kathy's church also has a D90 and she graciously let me borrow a lens of hers for the day. Here are some photos I took:








- Hannah

Day 237.

So I was sifting through my external hard drive when I found these photos that I took during my first few weeks here...hope you enjoy them as much as I did. :)
-Hannah

Day 236.

So as you all know, my beloved iBook G4 went to laptop heaven two weeks ago. Because of this, Megan (another volunteer here) generously offered to let me borrow her MacBook Pro for ten days while she was with a team from her church in the States.

YES.

I can't explain what a blessing this has been for me. I was able to update my "Why I love my life" blog with my less hassle, I have access to my footage/photos on my external harddrive, and I got to see my family for the first time in four and a half months! You see, my laptop didn't have a webcam built in...

Anyways, all this skyping with friends and overdosing on facebook has made me begin to really realize that I'll be back in the States in three short weeks. My bicycle will be waiting for me, I'll be living with a mother who believes in a healthy diet, the Pacific ocean will wake me up every day, and I'll be able to stay out past 5:30. All of those things seem so close, so tangible -- so missed.

Then of course, God reminds me about here. About now.

The team from Kathy and Megan's church put on a tea for the girls today. They were given Little Debbies, photos of themselves, and a single red rose. To return their incredible acts of love, the girls and I sang the songs that I've taught them.

As I heard my own voice get swallowed up by my students', my throat started to swell shut. Suddenly it hit me:

This hurt, this homesickness, this longing in my heart for that place that I left behind -- in 21 days, I'll be feeling that all over again. Except this time, I'll be missing Costa Rica.

- Hannah

Day 233.

Today, I...

saw my family's beautiful faces for the first time in four and a half months! My laptop has never had a webcam, and now that it's dead, it doesn't even matter. However, my friend Megan (another volunteer down here) is spending the next week and a half with a team from her church and asked if I'd like to use her laptop during that time. Would I ever! THANK YOU MEGAN!

missed the Rutz family!

realized I am going to miss the days when I come home and tell my host mom that my tummy is upset. What does she do? Grab a spoonful of shortening and massage my arms. Some how that's supposed to calm my stomach.

learned what bull testicles look like (mind you I didn't learn what they taste like).

smiled when I realized a huge advantage of these final days. Although counting down can be agonizingly slow, it only makes every moment last longer -- something I'm consciously trying to make happen.

- Hannah

Day 231.

Today, I...

saw a flock of green parrots perched on a telephone wire as I walked to the track.

missed playing Sardines at the Raff's lovely home.

realized I am going to miss watching the girls get to be girls. I love seeing them experience pure joy by dancing, singing, goofing off. They get to forget maturity and responsibility and just be a teenager for a moment or two.

learned that Carmen (one of the cooks) has her eye on a house on the main street in Carpio, rather than down near La Cueva "The Cave" where she and her family live currently. She told me though that there was no way they could pay for it -- the house costs around $3000. Her plan to get that money? Go on Fear Factor. Or get me on Fear Factor when I get back to the States.

smiled when my host mom took me to the central market to buy a tortilla press! I'm gonna start selling those homemade fresh corn tortillas when I get back...college, here I come! :)

- Hannah

Day 230.

Some days I wake up and think,

"Wow. In four weeks, I'll be back in a bed that fits me. I'll walk downstairs in the morning and see my mother who tells me she loves me in English. I'll ride my bike. I'll go to the library. I'll get a job and make money. I'll be able to eat apples and grapes and ice cream (three things that are crazy expensive here). I'll walk around at night and go to the lake and smell the ocean and see the place that nurtured me into who I am."

Then other days I wake up and think,

"Wow. In four weeks, I won't wake up and immediately see the sun. I'll start to forget what plantains taste like and my host mom won't be there to teach me funny Spanish sayings. My students will have a new teacher. I won't get to play my ukulele for them any more. Babies that were born while I was here will grow into girls and I won't get to see that happen. I'll miss out on first words, first steps, and seeing my students' faces when they find out if they passed their tests or not. I won't be there for them like they've been there for me. I won't be in this place that has changed me into who I am."

- Hannah

Day 229.

Today, I...

saw how that little "I Love My Life Because" facebook group is growing! That made me a little excited. To join, click http://www.facebook.com/#!/group.php?gid=110529058975948&ref=ts.

missed being able to crawl into my mommy's lap. I don't know if that could physically happen any more, even if I wasn't countries apart from her.

realized I am going to miss not having a cell phone. It seems like the less technology I have, the less stress enters my life. I will say this though -- one feels much more lonely.

learned that every day from here on out is going to be a raging war within me. Half of my heart is aching to get home, the other half will never be able to leave this place. It's bound to get broken sooner or later.

smiled when I realized that exactly four weeks from this very moment, I will be counting down the minutes until I see my family for the first time in 22 and a half weeks.

- Hannah

Day 228.

Today, I...

saw what happens when your bus breaks down. You file out the front, the driver gives you back your change, and you wait until the next bus comes. Then you ride a bus that's twice as full as it should be and arrive at your destination roughly 30 minutes late.

missed school.

realized I am going to miss the incredible wisdom that comes out of 13-year-old mouths. I gave my girls an essay prompt in typing class, asking them to write what they would do if they had a billion dollars. Everyone immediately wrote how they would build a house for their parents, "to get them out of this place." Many wrote about adopting every black baby in Haiti, creating homeless shelters, constructing institutions for alcoholics and drugs addicts, and of course -- if there was any left over -- buying shoes and clothes and plane tickets to Paris. One student turned to me and said, "Hannah, I think the reason God doesn't give us all this money is because then we'd be so caught up in doing all of these things that we'd forget about Him. I think maybe it's better if we just stay poor like we are now." How am I supposed to leave this place four weeks from today?

learned from Karen, one of my girls who has a one-year-old girl of her own, that no public hospital offers epidurals. She and I went to visit Nazareth, my star math student who is currently starting her 41st week of pregnancy. When I (with a shocked face) asked Karen why on earth this country expects its (mostly) young mothers to withstand such pain, she looked at me almost incredulously and said, "Do you know how much those things cost?"

smiled as I heard this mantra throughout my math class, "Por Tanya...por Suyen...por Jeremy..." Two of my five students have children and another is about to pop. As the sun blazed through the windows of the Refuge, threatening to burn every ounce of concentration, my student-mothers kept repeating why they were there: "For Tanya...for Suyen...for Jeremy..." These are the names of their children.

- Hannah

Day 227.

Today, I...

saw the illuminating glow of facebook for the first time in a long time. To be completely honest, it was not nearly as fulfilling as I anticipated. I guess I'm -- what's that word again -- maturing...?

missed being with my family on Easter. I missed flowering the cross at WPC, I missed searching for my Easter basket among the tops of shelves (my parents always hide them depending on one's height. Mine tends to be on top of the fridge), I missed seeing a crocus bloom.

realized I am going to miss being pampered by Kathy. Today she made us a chocolate cake that was simply divine.

learned how friendly the DePaul class of 2014 is! As I plunge further on my roommate quest, I'm stumbling across faces and future friends that I can't wait to spend time with.

smiled as thousands of miles away, my brother Henry proclaimed to me, "He is risen!"

HE IS RISEN INDEED.

- Hannah

Day 226.

Today, I...

saw a Costa Rican ritual on the news: make giant paper mache versions of Judas and burn them in the streets. That's not unnerving at all...

missed competition. I got to watch the Butler vs. Michigan State game on TV and the adrenaline, anxiety, and excitement all came rushing back at me. If any of you are in high school sports right now and reading this, APPRECIATE WHAT YOU HAVE. I know practice can be a pain, but it's one of those things that you consider a burden now, but you will look back and realize it was a blessing.

realized I am going to miss the weather. John Mathis emailed me saying that he and his family returned to the 45 degree drizzle of Washington while I woke up comfy cozy wearing nothing more than shorts and a tank top. Starting off the day with sunshine makes life so much less depressing.

learned that often times you don't get to know a person until you are thousands of miles away from them.

smiled at the anticipation of Easter tomorrow! My parents sent down peeps, I'm back on facebook, and the tomb is empty. Can't get any better than that.

- Hannah

Day 225.

Today, I...

saw a Good Friday procession at the Catholic church. It included a large plaster Mary:



missed having conversations where I don't have to include back stories to all of my tales. Last night I got to see the Mathis fam one last time before they left this morning, and it was so nice to just throw out names of Anacortesians without having to explain their role in the community. In other words, I miss the folks of my hometown.

realized I am going to miss how much I play my ukulele here. I have a feeling my future roommate won't be quite so tolerant with my pluckings.

learned what pineapple tea tastes like! Better than I expected, I'll say that much.

smiled as my inbox continues to fill with insight from my friends who are also my teachers and mentors. I haven't really asked for their permission, but I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I shared their thoughts with you...(if you do, just email me and I'll take it down!)

"Yesterday my two flower seeds, which I planted last week with my mentee, sprouted. It was one of the best things ever. I have to keep making things sprout. This is what I'm meant to do. Things, people, whoever, whatever. I need more life in my life. Spring is making me yearn so much. (I also had my first experience walking on stilts.)"
- Sarah Moses-Winyard

And that's Beauty.

A beauty that lifts like a song

strum across my emotions.

And you're the musician

who knows how

to make my beauty sing;

to coax forth my melody.

From that first note you struck,

my soul takes over;

transforming that ditty that I thought I was

into the grand overture that I am.

And as you round out the harmony,

we sing together.

Our songs, however distinct,

are somehow perfectly intertwined;

an everlasting opera.

Joy and Sorrow. Beauty and Pain.

And that,

that is the beauty of Love.

- Elisabeth Raff

- Hannah

Day 224.

Well...this week has been semana santa (holy week) so pretty much everything in the country has shut down. It's the only time apart from Christmas when my host dad gets off of work, none of the buses run, and my family took off for the beach. Meanwhile, I single-handedly gave myself food poisoning on Sunday night (too much cake mix cookie dough mix = NOT a good idea), so I've spent the last three days in reflection, prayer, and MTV's Teen Mom marathons.

It has all been wonderful, except for when it hasn't, to quote my mother. Monday morning shortly after my host family left, I had my first honest to goodness meltdown since I've been here. The last time I cried that hard was as I sat in SeaTac, waiting to board a plane and leave my home seven and a half months ago. These same sobs kept stumbling out of my mouth:

• Why isn't my mommy here when I'm sick?
  
• What if I throw up?
• What if my girls don't pass their tests?
• Do I really want to go to school half way across the country?
• WHAT WILL I DO WITHOUT MY LAPTOP?!
• Will I be able to lose the weight I've gained here?
• Since when did I get so lazy?
• Did my facebook fast cure my addiction? Or will I have to do it a third time?
  
• How can I serve people and still be so selfish?
• Will I forget all my Spanish?
  
• How much have my States-side friends changed?
• How much have I changed?

All these things kept spilling out until there was just an empty me in an empty house. The phone card that Alanna generously left me wouldn't go through, but my amazing incredible holy wonderfuly brilliant fantastic parents sent me some very encouraging emails. I received a whole helping of meaty nuggets of strength from a variety of friends and family. Let me pass on a few to you:

"All we can do is keep breathing..."
- my mother / Ingrid Michaelson

"I don't think that there is any way we can feel God's grace without some sort of turmoil going on in our lives."
- Evan Knoch

"I LOVE YOU! BE SAFE!"
- my cousin Ali

"You're an excellent communicator and it doesn't always have to be done through film or photos."
- my daddy

"Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."
- Forrest. Forrest Gump.

I woke up this morning and clung to these two thoughts:

God is good.
I love my life.

What else is there to say?

Love,
Hannah

Day 221.

Today, I...

saw my laptop's illuminated screen for what I'm afraid may have been the last time. While skyping with my family, the screen suddenly went black, but everything seemed to still work. I figured I'd restart it after our conversation, but suddenly my precious baby shut off completely and won't start up again. She's lasted me a good 4.5 years...may she rest in peace. :´(

missed Palm Sunday at WPC. Growing up, I always loved parading around the sanctuary with our make-believe palm frauns -- beautiful Washington ferns. Here, we celebrated Palm Sunday by watching two grown men gallop around in a donkey costume. The paper mache head was terribly frightening.

realized I am going to miss all the free time I have to do things that actually add substance to my life. This morning I sat on my bed and recited every poem I had ever memorized to myself.

learned that Sophie, my future DePaul roommate, ended up getting a great financial package to the University of Michigan. After what sounds like a very rough decision-making process, she gathered that it would be best to graduate from college debt free. I probably would have slapped her silly if she hadn't come to that conclusion any earlier. A huge part of me is grieving that I won't get to know her, but I know that some other lucky young woman will be incredibly blessed by having Sophie in her life. I know I have been.

smiled when I had this epiphany: God is bigger than the internet. For my generation, that really means something.

-Hannah

Day 220.

Today, I...

saw how the refreshments for today's lunch in La Carpio were made. All it took was water and a couple pumps of syrope -- basically the sickly sweet syrup you put on snow cones.

missed my neighbor's yard. And all of L Avenue for that matter.

realized I am going to miss the deep discussions I have with Kathy (a missionary who has been here for five years) as we drive back from Carpio. Today we discussed how some people believe that God creates tragedy, that it is all part of His big plan. We talked about how neither of us believe this is true. We both agree that God can use catastrophic events to change us, that we can learn from our mistakes, but that's just it -- so much of the pain in this world stems from human error. God gave us free will and we (for a lack of a better term) really effed it up. Meanwhile, God is constantly shifting, moving, filling in the cracks we put into this planet-present we were given. What are your thoughts on this?

learned that my host mom bought "Un Sueño Posible" and "Desde Mi Cielo" -- literally translated "A Possible Dream" and "From My Heaven". Try and guess which movie titles those really are.

smiled when Karla (one of my former campers who I had a tough time connecting with) saw me taking pictures, gently tugged at my arm, and shyly asked, "Can you snap some shots of _____ for me?" I promised I wouldn't tell anyone the boy's name. I'm finally earning her trust, three months later.

--Hannah

Day 219.

Today, I...

saw a very pregnant Nazareth bask in an onset of blessings and humble presents from all of us at the Refuge. We had a very fun baby shower for her in her final moments of not being a mother -- her doctor said the baby is coming any minute. Being around babies so much has made me think about motherhood in a completely new way. Once you have a baby, you are always a mother. That baby can grow into a child, it can move out, it can even leave this earth before you do. You're still always and forever a mother.

missed the beautiful Lenten services at WPC.

realized I am going to miss the royal purple clothes that loosely hug wooden crosses on the front doors here. Lent ends in a little over a week and I'm doing just fine without facebook.

learned that a guard where my host dad works was murdered in his home. My dad asked, "Does anyone know where Carlos has been the last couple days?" A co-worker said almost matter-of-factly, "Didn't you see the news? He was shot and killed out in his house in La Carpio. His funeral is today." I'm thinking of how my host dad probably isn't the only person I know who was affected by the loss of that poor man.

smiled when one of my students handed me a pair of pink bow earring with plastic diamonds in their centers. As she squeezed me tight, she whispered into my ear, "So you never forget me."

--Hannah

Day 218.

So it seems my chat setup plan didn't really pan out as planned...no matter, I will be back States-side to answer questions in less than six short weeks. Still can't get over that.

Today, I...

saw Alice in Wonderland at the theaters with the girls. I saw it dubbed in Spanish, but I have a feeling it would be just as weird in any language.

missed living with a mother who would never even consider serving me fried cheese, something that is a breakfast staple here.

realized I am going to miss riding taxis and having people tell me they're impressed with my espanol. That's a great self-confidence booster.

learned that one of the short-term volunteers I work with will have to say goodbye to her boyfriend in October for 12 months. He's being deployed to Afghanistan -- please pray for the both of them.

smiled when the lights dimmed in the theater and a few of the girls were still talking. Suddenly, the daughter of one of my students commanded in her f0ur-year-old voice, "Callase! Shutup!"

--Hannah

Day 217.

Today, I...

saw the beloved vendor Johanna at La Casona -- a souvenir store I took the Mathis family to. I mentioned this woman a while back when I first returned here; she's some one who remembers me from six years ago. I haven't seen her for a good four months or so and when she saw me, she embraced me with a smile and said, "Ya! Por fin eres gordita! Finally! You're getting fat!" Man I love this country.

missed the tulips.

realized I am going to miss my students so, so much. I cannot even begin to think about saying good-bye to them. They are my friends, they are my sisters, they are my teachers...they are the people who know how to test my patience, cheer me up, and make me love my life. They are irreplaceable.

learned that we are going to the movie theater tomorrow with the girls! We'll be seeing Alice in Wonderland (someone donated twenty tickets or so). I explained to my students that going to movies in the States generally costs $10 a person. Here, it costs $3. One girl asked me how many movies I've seen in theaters. "Demasiados. Way too many," I responded. I returned the question back to her. "Y tu? Cuantos veces has ido al cine? And you? How many times have you gone to the movies?" She looked at me. "I haven't."

smiled when my little choir sang the songs I've taught them to the Mathis clan (they're leaving Carpio and going to enjoy the Costa Rica that guide books talk about). I've always loved young people's voices, but these girls have a raw youth to them that can't be described.

--Hannah

Day 214.

Today, I...

saw quite the sight when I was with the Mathis family at San Jose's Gallo Pinto Fest. On one of the many stages erected along the packed street (we were one of only three gringo families I saw during our two hours there), a dance competition of sorts was taking place. This is a normal thing that would perhaps happen in the States -- a handful of people are selected out of the crowd to make fools of themselves in hopes of winning a petty prize. We are not in the States. We are in Costa Rica. And in Costa Rica, dance competitions consist of blaring reggaeton beats and sixty-year-old women who try to move like Shakira. I don't know many grannies who would tie their shirts under their wilting bosoms so that their even saggier stomachs could be flaunted in front of friends and family. Pura Vida!

missed late night facebook/messenger chats. Only two more weeks until lent is over.

realized I am going to miss the way my friends pour out their hearts into emails and letters so that I may grow from the way they share their souls.

learned how great Where the Wild Things Are is! My family sent it down to me and I watched it last night for the first time. Beautiful filmmaking.

smiled when I uploaded this picture on my Why I Love My Life blog:



-Hannah

PS I installed the fancy new toolbar on the bottom of your screen awhile back with big plans of holding weekly online conferences where I could hear from all of you readers and tell you about my work, my day, my life. Obviously that didn't really take off. Having said that, I would like to plan an online meeting with anyone who's interested for this Thursday, March 25. I'll be on the chat feature and will have my microphone set up from 7 - 9 pm my time (that's 6 - 8 pm for all you Washingtonians out there). Feel free to swing by, post a question, and be on your merry way. Or tell me about your life! I like the sound of that. See (or should I say hear) you there! :)

Day 213.

Today, I...

saw the Mathis family for the first time in a long time! They arrived safe and sound, thank the Lord, and I went with them to check out their hotel. We ate a dangerously delicious Italian buffet (THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!) and talked about things in Carpio, how stuff is going at church back home, and the way the two tie together. Tomorrow we're going to Gallo Pinto fest downtown -- allegedly all you can eat free gallo pinto! Huzzah!

missed all the teachers at AHS. As Aiden listed off his classes, I realized what a huge impact every one of the staff at my high school had on me. Thanks for that.

realized I am going to miss getting little surprise packages from my fam. Every time some one comes down to visit, I always receive candy, cards, some new music, and good pieces of literature (such as Relevant Magazine). Those things say "I love you" in ways that words never can.

learned a great deal from my book of Lenten readings. Here is an excerpt from Night by Elie Wiesel (an Auschwitz survivor):

The SS hung two Jewish men and a boy before the assembled inhabitants of the camp. The men died quickly but the death struggle of the boy lasted half an hour. "where is God? Where is he?" a man behind me asked. As the boy, after a long time, was still in agony on the rope, I heard the man cry again, "Where is God now?" and I heard a voice within me answer, "Here he is -- he is hanging here on this gallows..."

smiled when I gave my host mom the food processor I had my parents send down with the Mathis fam! She has always wanted one, but they cost way more here than they do in the States. Right now I'm listening to her call up every one in her family, her voice beaming. She keeps saying, "And it's a Cuisinart! It's a Cuisinart! THAT'S WHAT I'VE ALWAYS WANTED!" Love that woman.

-Hannah

Day 212.

Today, I...

saw a mini Harley Davidson...with training wheels.

missed my WPC family. Good thing the Mathis clan are coming tomorrow! I'm so excited to see them, show them Costa Rica, and show them off to Costa Ricans.

realized I am going to miss running into people on the street. It's inevitable in Anacortes, and I'm getting to the point where I can't walk the main drag of Carpio without having to stop and chat with a student, a mother, or a child. I don't know if that's going to happen in Chicago.

learned that I do not care for mondongo -- cow intestine.

smiled when I played Heads Up 7Up with my students. It was the second time we've ever played it and when I announced that's what we'd do for the last fifteen minutes, one of the roughest, most intimidating girls let out a yelp and laughed "Si! Eso es BUENISIMO! Yes! That's SO GREAT!"

--Hannah

PS I haven't really put up any deep chunks of writing for you all to chew on, so I'm going to post an excerpt from a recent scholarship essay I cranked out. Hope you get something out of it and spit some feedback my way.

The bigger my world is, the smaller my problems are. I have always known this, whether my world was enlarged by cracking open an unread book, migrating to another lunch table, or traversing to far-off lands via the Discovery channel. After spending the last seven months teaching in La Carpio, a slum settlement in Costa Rica's capital, my world has grown exponentially and my problems suddenly seem so empty in comparison.
One of the greatest life lessons my students have nurtured into my being is that every worry can be transformed into a prayer of thanksgiving. Why did I have melt downs when homework piled up? That only meant people were pushing me to my full potential. Why did I dread three hour practices? They were precious moments to treasure with my teammates. Why did I get angry when people expected so much of me? It was obvious that they were confident in my abilities. The girls I teach approach life this way. Why get worked up about a failed test? You already know more than yesterday. Why worry about going hungry? That only means you must be satisfied now. Why be anxious about your child's future? They are in your arms today. Obviously they do not all think like this, just as not all Americans are stressed-out worry hounds. It is just another shift in my perspective.
Perspective: such an underestimated word. I spent my high school years building an empire of extracurricular wealth -- I entered film festivals, won art contests, earned such titles as "captain", "president", and "headmistress". But where has that gotten me now? Can I cook? No. Can I do my own laundry? Barely. The girls I work with know how many fistfuls of rice can feed a family, but they still count on their fingers. We’re on this planet to teach each other.
My workplace in La Carpio (appropriately named “The Refuge”) is a sanctuary of small steps and stress-less smiles, so different from the competition-driven culture awaiting me in my own country. Having said that, I want to clarify something: cynicism is just as dangerous as ignorance. Why fawn over another society when you can change your own? The people here have stories that have woven their way into mine—I want to reach out so that other strands can be added to this cord. It is by telling these compelling life stories that I plan to enlighten others of the miracle I have discovered: human emotion.
Feelings cannot be explained like math or logic. People have discovered what's inside the sun, the physics of flight, how the rain returns to the ocean and back again, but no one knows why we laugh, where disappointment comes from, or how love happens. There is an infinite chasm between science and passion...but there is also a bridge: art. Right now you are looking at pixels and plastic, concrete things you can touch. Language twists this into something complex, stirs something inside of us that we can only feel. Paintings are nothing more than pigment on parchment, but the colors swell before our eyes until tears swim there too. I believe film is the strongest of them all — it is nothing more than sound waves and photons, but it is capable of filling us with sorrow, igniting us with hope, and even moving us to action.
The young people of La Carpio have never applauded for one of my departmental awards or shouted my jersey number in a packed-out gym. Speaking in a second language has stripped me of my charisma and there is no school television program to showcase my latest creative production; Costa Rica has taken away everything I am proud of. It has humbled me. It has made me realize that people believe in me not because of my abilities, but because I enable their own. Teaching, showing, expanding...these are things I will do for the rest of my life. My films will not just excite or inspire, rather they will act as mirrors reflecting what the viewers themselves are capable of. I will share people's stories, making our world family a little bigger and maybe, just maybe, our problems will all seem a little smaller.

Day 211.

Today, I...

saw understanding creep onto one of my students' faces as I asked her be the teacher for a few minutes, forcing her to really learn what she was expected to teach. I would raise my hand and ask her questions, making her thoroughly explain the problem, and she would finish all of her answers with, "Entiendes, alumna Hannah?" "Do you understand, student Hannah?"

missed my dear friend Alanna. This country is simply not the same without her.

realized I am going to miss being around babies all the time. Those creatures provide way more entertainment than any television, Wii, or internet every could.

learned how to make corn tortillas! Yummy.

smiled when I taught the girls "Every Move I Make" with my ukulele. They just loved the "La, la, la, la, la..." part, and so we replaced the "La's" without different barnyard animals -- they just ate it up. Keep in mind that these girls are all 13-22 years old. We sang like roosters, like dogs, like ducks, like cats. Just as we were about to finish, one girl yelled, "Don't forget the ass!" and let out a huge "Hee-haw!"

-Hannah

Day 209.

Today, I...

saw a two-lane street turn into a three-lane one as three taxis tried to pass each other simultaneously.

missed my high school friends.

realized I am going to miss the way my hosts mom fries an egg, wraps it around a hot dog, and calls it breakfast.

learned how to do some sweet new tricks on my ukulele.

smiled when I taught the girls "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and they kept asking for me to sing it again. Those lyrics mean so much more coming out of their mouths.

-Hannah

Day 208.

Today, I...

saw how no one could sleep in my family because of the excessive heat (experts are saying it hasn't been this hot in San Jose since 1991) so I started and finished one of my favorite books of all time -- Stargirl.

missed springtime in Washington. Here, everything is either lush, moist greens or coarse, dry browns. I miss the dismal grays with silver linings of hope sewn in.

realized I am going to miss going to bed at eight pm and not feeling like a total loser for doing so.

learned that I was mistaken about the "El Nica" showing. We finally got hold of the theater and it turns out that they showed it March 16, 2009...

smiled when I began my online hunt for a Chicago parka! I will be in SUCH a different place come six months from now.

-Hannah

PS Forgot to mention this, but I ran into a man at the grocery store who used to be the manager for McDonald's in Anacortes! Now he's studying Spanish in Costa Rica with his family before they head to Peru to be missionaries. I've also met a woman who's husband grew up in Mt. Vernon and another woman who was born and raised on Lopez Island. Small world.

Day 204.

Today, I...

"saw an obese homeless man sporting a shirt that said 'DANGER: Educated black woman'."
-- Brenna and Megan, two fellow missionaries

missed my family. It's a hollow feeling inside your gut that is harder and harder to surpress as my return approaches.

realized I am going to miss praying in McDonald's. Today Brenna, Megan, and I wanted to go get some fruit salad (DELICIOUS here) instead of doing our weekly Bible study with Kathy who just returned from the States last night and told us she needed to rest up. We saw a soda, a family-owned restaurant, advertising "Enselada de Frutas" so we went in. Turns out they didn't have any fruit salad. We found another soda brandishing the same delicious combo of papaya, canteloupe, bananas, mango, watermelon, strawberries, ice cream, and Jell-O (yes, Jell-O). They didn't have any either. From there we decided to check out an upscale ice cream place, but they were closed. Grudgingly we headed over to McDonald's to try the new Guayabita McFlurry (scrumptious Costa Rican chocolate filled with guava jelly). It turned out to be rather tasty and after an hour of great conversation and fellowship, we closed our time in prayer. As soon as we finished, a young woman approached us and asked if we spoke Spanish -- she wanted to know if we would pray for her friend's unborn child. We went over to the expectant mother (she couldn't have been older than sixteen or seventeen) and prayed for her in a combination of English and Spanish, thanking God for the miracle of this tiny seed of a life and asking Him to comfort, calm, and keep the young mom-to-be. If Kathy wasn't exhausted, if the other places had been open or had stocked up on fruit, if we hadn't decided to close our eyes and talk to God, none of that would have happened. Amen.

learned that I'm not a huge fan of green, unripe mango and handfuls of salt.

smiled when one of my students presented me with a necklace, blue star earrings, and a Mickey Mouse valentine. I suddenly understood how Jesus felt when the poor woman parted with her few precious coins.

--Hannah

Day 203.

Today, I...

saw the last of Alanna for a while. We went out this morning for our last banana smoothies together. I know she will miss this place and that she will be greatly missed by this place -- good thing she lives in Snohomish.

missed thinking of what Washington was like. Now I've begun thinking about how it will be.

realized I am going to miss the way that Costa Ricans support the Special oOympics. They have entire parades for their athletes when they return from competitions and on TV, I've seen more announcements supporting the disabled than I've seen car commercials. I have a feeling part of this has to due with the fact that abortion is illegal in this country -- I've noticed many more handicapped young people here than I do in the States.

learned how much I've changed when I consider other people's points of view. Previously I was so angry all the time -- angry at our previous president, angry at the big corporations, angry at what American society had become. Now...now it's less anger and more ache. Today I read a Glenn Beck quote that would have once given me a hernia; now I just turned off my computer, opened my "Lent is for Lovers" journal (somewhat like my "Why I Love my Life" blog. I pick a subject and write a love letter for them), and began scrawling all the things I love about Glenn Beck:

• He's from my corner of the planet.
• One of his daughters is named Hannah.
• When he was fifteen, his mother committed suicide.
• A few years later, his stepbrother did the same.
• Like all of us, I'm sure he's looked at all he has done and wondered if it was right.
• He's been diagnosed with ADHD.
• Alcoholics Anonymous has changed his life around.
• People like to pick on him.

Don't get me wrong, much of what Glenn does and says goes against everything I believe in and I am not going to drop my passion for social justice any time soon, but you have to agree with me when I say that the internet doesn't need any more hate-blogs. Aren't there enough red faces in the world already? Why waste energy spreading angry propoganda when you can send a simple love note? Which do you think will make a bigger difference in the long run? If I'm not mistaken, the most published book in the history of mankind is also the biggest love letter.

smiled when my host mom accepted my invitation to go see the play El Nica (The Nicaraguan) with me on Tuesday.

-Hannah