Mistakes & Earthquakes...

I should know better than to think that I know better. It is so difficult as an educated American to follow cultural norms that I deem as ignorant or irrelevant. For instance, here in Costa Rica, people always wear their shoes in the house. I don't like wearing shoes anyway, so as soon as I get inside I tend to kick them off and ignore the fact that my Costa Rican mom thinks I will get sick if my feet get cold (after all, I know that it is the presence of germs and not the cold, especially the 70 degree “cold” that they have here, that is responsible for sickness). I mean, what kind of Californian would I be if I didn't enjoy the freedom of bare feet or flip flops every once in a while? I continued with my bare-footed ways for a couple of weeks, confident that I would change the entire mindset of the Costa Rican people by not getting sick... that is until I found out that there is another reason to wear shoes in the house. It was early morning and I was readying my stove top espresso maker to prepare a cappuccino when something funny happened. As I set the all metal espresso maker down on the stove, I heard loud popping, noticed that my hand was hurting, and that it wouldn't let go of the maker... I managed to jump back after about 3 seconds of 220 volts pulsing through my hand and out my feet. My Tica mom just looked at me with a smug little “I told you so” smile and said, “hmm, it's because you don't have shoes on.” Apparently Costa Rican appliances don't come with ground wires here... thus, I became a homemade ground wire because my feet were in direct contact with the ground. Needless to say, I haven't flipped a light switch on since without lacing up first.

Language school has been going well. It is still tiring and I still feel a bit out of my element, but I feel like I am understanding people on a whole new level. If forgetting English is directly proportional to the amount of Spanish I am learning, than I am nearly fluent. I have never been so tongue tied in all my life! While eating lunch and waiting for Cailah to pick me up for sports day in “Las Fuentes” I made what I consider to be my biggest mistake so far. I was eating in a bit of a hurry because I was due to be picked up in a few minutes and still had about three plates of food in front of me (my Tica mom is trying desperately to make me fat) when she asked what time I had to leave. I told her that I had to go in a few minutes and she then wanted to know why so soon. I responded with the spanish equivalent of “Because my friend Cailah is coming over to mount/ride me (Montarme).” After dislodging the piece of food from my mom's throat, resuscitating her, and picking her up from the floor, I was able to explain that the word I was looking for was not “montarme,” but rather, “manejarme” (drive me). Directions: open mouth, insert foot!

After Cailah came over to “manejarme” we headed out to Las Fuentes. We took a few minutes to stop by the house of the Pastor of the communities church to so that I could meet him. As we were talking (and by talking I mean he talked and I did a lot of sign language and head nodding) we heard a very large shaking sound up the road. It subsided just long enough for him to ask, “is that an earthquake?” The following few seconds were very profound. I felt the ground move, I heard the chaos of the shaking, contrasted with the silence of no dogs barking and no children playing, shattered by the prayers of the pastor who had made his way to the doorway by now. I am pretty sure that the pastor thought I had a case of “the slows” as I was the only one standing out in the open while everyone darted for doorways of safety. But it really was amazing. How could something be so powerful to move the unshakable ground that I was standing on? But the most astonishing part was his reaction, his instinct to call on God. He was praying as loud as he could, calling to God, drowning out the rumble of the earth itself... and what was I doing? Nothing! It got me thinking. A side note: If you would like to think of me as a missionary who is completely in touch with God and has everything together, please stop reading here and join me next blog. For all of you still with me, how typically stupid and selfish this reaction is of me! When my world shakes (metaphorically) I am more comfortable living in my self pity and grief, concentrating on how I am feeling, and what is happening to me. I call on God, but I do it when I am ready... after all, this IS my world right?! Yet this pastor's knee jerk reflex was to call on God. He was crying out to him. He was asking him for safety and for protection. He was submitting to God out of instinct because that is what he has done for years. I want to be there. I want to have that reaction to trouble. I want the submission to God to be a thing or reflex and the way I feel to be a secondary emotion, but I'm not there... not even close. But it is always good to have goals and always good to have something for people to pray for you about.

I still don't know the roads we'll take, but it seems like we're heading in the right direction...