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