Solo quiere basilar

It seems like this week I had quite a few moments where I thought: I need to put this in my blog. Some were funny, some serious. So, here you are:

One of Marta's grown daughters, Leonore, invited me to the rezo (prayer and Rosary) that they hold annually to remember her husband's death. I accepted, even though I was pretty nervous about going to a recitation of the Rosary when I do not in fact know how to say the Rosary, especially in Spanish. I can stumble through it in English (we Presbyterians know the "Our father", and I can pick up on the rest by the second recitation) but I am absolutely hopeless when it comes to Catholic ceremonies in Spanish. As I may have already noted in an early blog- I demonstrated this incompetence when asked to say grace at dinner at Don Abdon's house. I said the classic: thanks for the food, for each other, watch over and guide us- pretty proficiently. But then everyone looked at me awkwardly, and someone else mercifully led them through the Lord's prayer without me. I didn't know that was part of grace here. Similarly, I went to mass once and was pretty lost. In any case, I went to the Rezo, assured by Marta that no one was going to be offended that if I didn't recite along with them. Leo's oldest son Pablo is a priest, and he was officiating. It was actually a really awesome experience. The whole family got together, prayed, and then had a cafecito. I admire that they still take the time to remember their deceased husband/father/uncle/son in a formal way, even though he died thirteen years ago. Marta was pretty curious how we mourn someone in the United States. She says that mourning is a big deal here, with 9 days straight right after the death, and then a big ceremoney one year later, and then continued prayer sessions every year thereafter. I explained to her that, while traditions vary by family and religion, I have not experienced grief as as such a formal and extended process. We have a funeral, and we pray there, but after that there is not usually any official celebration. If there is a continued remembrance, it is usually initiated by the family, and usually doesn't keep happening for thirteen years. Of course, every family is different: in my three years volunteering as a grief support group facilitator in Tucson, I was invited to a couple of death-anniversary remembrance ceremonies. Also, my sister and I, and sometimes our friends, try to go to the site where my mom died from time to time and maintain the cross that her friends put there. I do appreciate the respect that Leonore's family has for the memory of their dad; and it wasn't sad. They prayed, and then they drank coffee. It was simple, yet I am sure that their dad would be glad to be remembered in such a way.

This fairly serious family event on Saturday contrasted completely with lunch on Sunday. I thought I was going to go insane! There were probably 15 people in the kitchen; Patri was cleaning out and defrosting the refrigerator, and so there was water and food everywhere. Marta was cooking and serving soup, Gaudi and Sharon were yelling to each other across the house, while Macho was jumping up and down and screaming, but apparently for no specific reason. Leo, Rosita, and I were trying to find room on the cluttered table for the soup bowls we were being handed, while also locating spoons, and quieting Macho, and arranging chairs. It was, to say the least, chaotic. I finished my lunch in half the time that it took everyone else, mostly because I couldn't follow the 5 different conversations closely enough to contribute. So, I ate quickly and in silence, and then hastily gave up my seat to someone else who needed it. I had to go lay down afterwards, because I was a little bit stressed out. After more than two months here, I am pretty confident in my Spanish skills, but this was defiinitely a scenario where they failed me. My Spanish also proves pretty weak when I go out dancing with Dixie and Nelson; loud music isn't conducive to serious conversation in any language, but it's even harder for me when it isn't my first language.

Speaking of dancing, I went to Los Pinares (the only bar in Santa Rosa) with most of my friends here to watch the Costa Rica-Surinam fútbol match on Satruday. I even dressed in Red and Blue (national colors). We destroyed Surinam, 7-0. It was fun. Afterward, we stayed and danced a bit. I was wearing my crocs (not exactly high class attire) but didn't really worry about it (I stand out no matter what I wear here). I got more awkward when Rene asked me to dance Merengue with him- I am not so good at Merengue yet. And then, to make matters worse, the DJ (who lives in a Habitat house) decides to give me a shout out over the loudspeaker and comment on my dancing skills. I was bastante embarrassed! But wait, there's more: Cuti (the DJ) then proceeded to play a Phil Collins song and dedicate it to me. Everyone sat down and stopped dancing, and I was left to regret ever having mentioned to Cuti my dorky obsession with old Phil Collins music. I survived the verguenza (embarrassment) however, and ended up havind a pretty fun night. For some reason, my friends decided that I needed a theme song. They narrowed it down to 2 options. The first one's lyrics go: "ella no tiene novio, solo quiere basilar" (She doesn't have a boyfriend, she just wants to joke around). The other option goes: "¿Tan bonita para que? Si no tiene alma, ¿Tan bonita para que? Si no tiene corazon" (which means, So pretty for what? if she doesn't have a soul, so pretty for what? if she doesn't have a heart?" I had to assure them that I do indeed have a soul. But, since I have shown no interest in finding a romance in Santa Rosa, they insist I must be heartless. In any case, it was funny, and they were all singing, and the bartender had to come ask them to be quiet.

The Child Care Center committee is making me happy: they are taking more initiative to plan things, and are not relying on me to do all of the work, as much. This is a necessary step, especially since the Child Care Center is a really long term project, and there is no way that we are going to be able to get it up and runnign while I am here. It's just not possible. So, I was ecstatic when Doña Rosario approached me and said that she want to organize a karaoke night to benefit the Centro Infantil. We are planning to hold the event in October, with food and prizes and music. We even had a meeting and divided up planning responsibilites. I hope that it all turns out well. Today I worked on writing a grant for the Child Care Center (first in English, now I am translating). It's boring. But hopefully it gets us some plata (money). Sometimes I worry that I am doing all of this work, and it won't amount to anything. But that's only on days when I am being negative. Usually I am pretty optimistic. Today, I am somewhere in between.

That's all I have for now.