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

Day 202.

Today, I...

saw sorrow on my students' faces as they said good-bye to Alanna. In two short months my own parting will be the cause of those tears.

missed whipped cream.

realized I am going to miss watching the sunrays spill out of the sunset I soak in every day as I walk home from the bus stop.

learned that Carmen, the cook in Carpio, is one of sixteen children in her family. Her aunt had twenty-two kids.

smiled when my girls belted their hearts out as we presented Alanna with the songs I had taught them.

-Hannah

Day 201.

So sorry about the lack of posting this week -- I have been having incredible technical difficulties that just love to make life hard. My power cord is now working a whopping 17% of the time and the letters K and I on my keyboard no longer function. Wahoo.

Let me give you a little re-cap of what I've done as of late:

-Watched Nazareth's eyes open fiercely as something inside of her moved. I don't really remember my mom's pregnancy with Luke or Henry, so this is really the most I've been around a pregnant woman (pregnant girl?). It's been such an experience to be explaining negative integers one minute and then reminding Naza to breathe the next.
-Saw my beloved Karen have a well-deserved meltdown. On Thursday Karen spent the class with her head on her desk; she's a hard worker so I let her take a nap. At the end of the lesson though, one of the other girls told me that Karen wasn't sleeping, but crying. Her overwhelming life was catching up to her -- taking care of her two-year-old sister-in-law, caring for her own child as she learns to walk, visiting her sister in rehab when their own mother refuses to, trying to stdy for her tests which are rapidly approaching...she is such a strong young woman and the tears and the anguish I saw on her face were not her own; they were the gutteral sobs of Christ aching for his beloved creation. She hurts for others. I want to learn how to do that.
-Visited another one of my student's house. They had fumigated that day, so as I walked in, I saw fifteen of the largest cockroaches I have ever laid my eyes on. Her four-year-old daughter was playing with them.
-Spent the night in Carpio on Friday night with Alanna, Kayla (a new volunteer from Vancouver, BC), Carmen's three sons, their best friends Rudy and Pate, and Rudy's cousin Oscar (a boy who lived in Maryland for four years, started getting in trouble, and then was sent to live with his aunt and uncle in Carpio. So logical -- your kid is making bad decisions, so of course you're going to send him to the gang-infested ghetto of Costa Rica. It's actually working out really great for him). We watched District 9, played jump rope for a solid two hours, and ate a hearty meal of rice and frozen chicken patties. There were nine of us. We had four plates, two cups, no serving utensils, and a machete the size of my leg.
-Yesterday my host mom and dad took me on a paseo or day trip. We decided to try out the new highway that was just completed in January after twenty years in the making. It took us a little over an hour to get to the beach where I tried cashew fruit, candied papaya and pineapple, and thoroughly enjoyed a Puntarenas Churchill -- shaved ice doused in a sickly sweet red syrup, sweetened condensed milk, ice cream, and evaporated milk. YUM.

This week, I...

saw a dead monkey on the side of the road.

missed my bed that fits my feet.

realized I am going to miss listening to my host dad sing along to worship songs with a falsetto voice on long car rides.

learned where the apostraphe button is on my host fam's Spanish keyboard.

smiled when I realized I've been here for over 200 days.

-Hannah

Day 196.

Yes, it's 4:37 am.
Yes, I've spent the last eight hours strangling iMovie.
Yes, Update No. 5 is online.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jDsyoqyq7M

Day 195.

Today, I...

saw one of my student's homes. Karen, the eighteen-year-old sister-in-law of two-year-old Wendy pictured in my last post, invited me to her house. She, her husband, and her daughter live in one bedroom in a house that belongs to her mother-in-law (who lives there with her own husband, other son, and daughter). The house is falling apart, made of nothing more than wood and nails. It's interesting...six years ago when I would visit these kinds of places, I would sit on the edge of the hole-covered couch or stare at the stains on the plates people served me. Now none of that enters my mind. It's a home, just like my own.

missed the Farmer's Market in Anacortes! Luckily it will be just starting up again when I return.

realized I am going to miss how Pizza Hut and ampm are high-end restaurants/grocery stores here.

learned that my laptop's power cord is frayed and about to die. Yay.

smiled when Karen told me that getting pregnant, married, and moving out were the best things that God could have given her. Her own household consists of four girls (one of her older sisters has had four miscarriages due to alcohol consumption and the other is caring for her newborn baby while in rehab), her father moved out and lives alone with his drinks, and her 44-year-old mother beats Karen's twelve-year-old sister, has had four other children with a handful of her 20+ boyfriends over the years, owns a bar, and moved in with a 22-year-old. In all of this, Karen looks at her baby and sees her for the miracle she is. We were discussing how so many mothers beat their children (a very accepted practice in Costa Rica), and Karen had this great line: "There's a reason I don't beat my baby. It's not because I'm afraid of leaving marks on her body...it's the wounds that I'd put on her heart."

--Hannah