Blog Puente

Tres Rios Church Update

2008-11-12T12:02:00.001-06:00

We’ve been asking you for your prayers concerning where the church has been meeting since April 2007. To review, the city closed the establishment (an old restaurant) because the neighbors complained about a lot of loud parties there (not our parties!). Two developments have taken place just recently. One is that a meeting is to take place between the church, the mayor, and the owner of the property, who is favorable to the church. The hope is that the place will be reopened for church use, and we’ll be able to move out of the circus tent and off the (rainy!) basketball court and back into the building. The other possibility that is still pending is the purchase of a former church building for sale in the downtown Tres Rios district. It is a bargain at $136,000, and would be the best long-term solution. But of course, the folks in the church would need to come up with some initial funding and financing. You can all pray about that, without a doubt, and for wisdom in these times. And please know that we so depend on your intercession and interest in this project. If we deceive ourselves into trusting in our own understanding and then pretend that God has led us, we are deceived indeed! Thanks for your prayers!

Will My Self-Interest Assure Your Well-Being?

2008-11-11T13:47:00.003-06:00

Many of you will remember a few weeks ago, back before the recent election, when it seemed that suddenly our nation’s economic health was headed over the precipice unless some major legislation was immediately passed. Oh yeah, the bailout thing! Does that seem like distant history now? It’s funny how quickly the next news item displaces the spectacle that preceded it. It’s also interesting how normal all this can seem to us who live in this world, but are hopefully not of it. How different is the world in its general outlook on the future, anyway? I found an interesting article in USA Today (http://usatoday.com/money/economy/2008-10-23-greenspan-congress_N.htm) reporting on former Federal Reserve Board Chairman Alan Greenspan's testimony before Congress. You'll find the usual economic news and predictions, which of course seem to be the basic fuel of the economic fire in the world. But more importantly, you'll find in this article some telling statements regarding basic worldview. Consider these:

"the crisis has exposed flaws in his thinking and in the workings of the free-market system."
Greenspan had a "belief that banks would be more prudent in their lending practices because of the need to protect their stockholders..."
Greenspan said he had made a mistake in "believing that banks in operating in their self-interest would be sufficient to protect their shareholders..." (emphasis mine)
Greenspan called this "a flaw in the model that I perceived is the critical functioning structure that defines how the world works." (emphasis mine)

People do not make decisions in their personal lives or create policy for nations in a worldview vacuum. There are assumptions (e.g. that self-interest will naturally translate into interest and care for others?) that we consciously or sub-consciously refer to in all that we do. Alan Greenspan is not the only individual with influence and power in our society that actually does have a carefully considered "model...that defines how the world works." Without knowing Mr. Greenspan personally, one has very little with which to question the sincerity of those worldviews or models. But sincerity is not the most fundamental question, since sincerity is not analogous to truth. (And there is a hint about my own model, i.e. that truth exists and is of the highest value.) We do have the freedom and capacity to compare other models with truth to determine their veracity (correspondence to ultimate reality) and justness (consequences for others). We are currently privileged to be looking upon some of the real-time logical conclusions and consequences to a model like Alan Greenspan's.

Your Prayers Must Be Coming True...

2008-10-11T12:24:00.004-06:00

As we've traveled and shared with congregations that support what we do in Central America, we are always asked about what they can pray for. In EVERY instance, we have asked that you pray about the location where we meet for Sunday services. When we started gathering for worship there back in April of 2007, it was a great answer to prayer. We had been meeting in a residential home where we had our offices and housed some of our students. But we soon were making our neighbors uneasy with all the new faces in their midst, and we knew we had to leave. The current location is ideal in many ways, with no worries about the noise we make, and a swimming pool for baptisms to boot! But it seems that it has served its purpose for the time, and as the congregation grows in maturity, a new place to come together seems imminent.

Basically, there are a couple of reasons we should probably be meeting elsewhere. One has to do with the neighborhood. It is no better or worse than other neighborhoods in the township, but the locals themselves make a distinction as to its perceived dangerousness. While the neighborhood is indeed a hotbed of drug activity and even some violence, even the worst neighbors see us and our students as a blessing, and have never threatened any of us. On the contrary, when Roger recently had a cell phone stolen out of his car, some of the local toughs made every effort to locate it and defend his rights (and our students' efforts) in confronting the obvious thieves on his behalf. They were too late, as stolen merchandise moves very quickly in those markets! But it illustrates the impact that the Church has already had in a very rough place. On the other hand, those same neighbors who are part of the Church are very hesitant to invite their other acquaintances (from work, school, etc.) to join us, because they know what everyone thinks and what their fears are.

The other reason we need to meet elsewhere has to do with centrality. If we can find ourselves meeting in the central district of the township, everyone can not only arrive at church on their own, but also know that their invited friends can easily arrive. Central location is a question of logistics and future self-sustainability and independence.

So I think you must be praying about this. Why? We've been shut out of our present location! The place is rented out to other parties (literally) because we only rent it by the hour. And of late, some pretty wild drug parties have taken place on the grounds! They were so wild and raucous in fact that the neighbors called the police, on more than one occasion. So the municipality closed the place down. The church missed one Sunday of worship together, but are planning to meet this Sunday on the basketball court next door. Pray it doesn't rain! And keep praying for the right place. This may actually be a blessing, because if we're forced out of the present locale, the neighbors would understand our leaving better, and not feel so much that we were abandoning them. Your prayers can come true!

Of Mice and Men

2008-09-22T09:39:00.017-06:00

Today I think I'll do the Central-American thing and tell you that I had a birthday this last weekend. To be truly Central-American, I might have reminded you before my birthday, but this will have to do. I had a great day, thanks in no small part to my dear wife Chrissy, who is the sole reason that any of our kids will have any sweet childhood memories of any occasion whatsoever. Party? She IS a party. And this weekend was no exception. Allow me to digress.

Apparently, a parade was planned for me in Mason City, IL. It had all the trappings of the Prairie Harvest Festival, but I think that was just a ruse to get me to the celebration. We stopped at Casey's on the way, and indulged in the finest cappuchino a buck and change can buy. But what made the parade super special was that our niece Haleigh was in the running for the Prairie Harvest Princess competition. We cheered as her float tottered by, so pleased to see her among the candidates, waving politely and wishing one and all a very good morning. The entourage of antique tractors and a long line of emergency vehicles made time fly, and when we were surprised by the horses at the end of the parade, it was nigh on lunch-time. We headed for the carnival with our carry-on suitcases full of projectile candy (no-one was hurt in the distribution).

The time came for the announcement of the winner of the Prairie Harvest Princess for 2008, and Haleigh won! We cheered again, hugged one another, and pumped our fists. Time to finish lunch, enjoy a little live entertainment on the flat-bed trailer, and make our way back to the car. But the car was parked on the far side of the carnival, and so we promised one ride for each child and headed that way. Of course, Chloe and Wyatt wanted to ride different rides, so we were in a conundrum. Was Wyatt big enough to ride the Rock-O-Plane by himself? Yes, but the ride-operator preferred that he not. So we quickly purchased a few more tickets, and I rode the Rock-O-Plane for the first time in maybe 25 years. Did I mention that we had lunch? Fortunately, the only things that went flying were the unsecured jaw-breakers I had snagged when the Shriners went by in the parade. In fairness, I had ignored the clearly posted warnings and left them in my shirt pocket. Wyatt thought it was awesome, but Chloe got pretty woozy on the swings.

We might have missed the climax of the event had Chloe not gotten a bit nauseous, though. While she was catching her breath, the boys found the mouse-roulette wheel sponsored by the local MCFD. This attraction is a 6-foot diameter wooden table, with holes drilled around the circumference, corresponding to different colors. Participants put their quarters down on a color on the surrounding counters, the wheel is spun, and a mouse is released in the center. If he runs down a hole corresponding to your color, you win the number of quarters indicated by the hole. It must be a good fund-raiser, because the place was packed, and the look of the whole set-up seemed to have a few years on it. Zach won 8 quarters, Austin wound up donating a few to the MCFD, Chloe managed to regain her equilibrium, and we made our way home. We finished the evening with a 3-birthday wing-ding at Amy Lowe's house (Chrissy's sister), celebrating with Jeremy Lowe (Amy's husband) and Jeni McLaughlin (Chrissy's sister also.) So you can see it was a special day, in part because of the events associated with it, but mostly because of the special people I could be with. We have been very blessed on this furlough to be able to spend time with family, first around Joplin with much of my family, and now in Illinois with Chrissy's family.

D-Group Leader Training in Panama

2008-09-11T08:50:00.009-06:00

It seems of course that we've been back here in the USA on furlough for a loooonnnngg time...when in fact it's only been a few months. September 15th is around the corner, and you know what that means! Independence Day for the five Central American countries, who received their independence from Spain on the same day back in 1821. Which are the five? Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica. "What about Panama?" you will earnestly inquire. Panama also won their independence in 1821, but not until November 28, and they immediately decided to join Colombia. It wasn't until 1903 on November 3, however, that they broke away from Colombia, and became the Republica de Panamá which we know today. Soooo... Panama celebrates TWO Independence Days, and they kind of are, and kind of aren't part of Central America.

Speaking of Panama, that is where the next International School of Youth Ministry will be held in January, 2009. This conference/camp is in its fourth year, having rotated back and forth between Costa Rica and Panama. As I write, Roger Twitchell, with a delegation from the churches in Costa Rica, is on the road (the red Panamerican Highway in the map at right) to attend a training session near the border. It's about 7 hours from San Jose, and they'll be there through Friday and Saturday, probably coming home late Saturday night. Roger told me that they'll be staying with Eliecer Carrera, who is one of our graduates of the Institute. It sounds like they'll be sleeping on the floor, and eating at Eliecer's Aunt's restaurant! The food should be great! Another note of interest is that Eliecer will be getting married on September 20th, so if you were thinking about being at the wedding, you better look into some tickets before it's too late!

A Fish Story

2008-08-23T18:12:00.006-06:00

While vacationing with my family on Table Rock Lake over the 4th of July, I had the opportunity to revive an old practice. I've been trying to fish with my kids this summer, but this was the first chance to fish...by myself. The lake was high, and lots of trees provided both challenges and opportunities. When you fish, though, you don't think about that, you just fish. I finally caught a little bass on a beetle spin, and thought maybe things were looking up. As I worked my way around a point, I got my spin caught in a sycamore tree, no more than 4 feet off the shore. The beetle spin now had added value, so after I exhausted my un-snagging tricks and broke the line, I took off my shoes and socks, rolled up my jeans and started to wade toward my little purple bass-slayer. One step led to another, the water got deeper, and in a flash I was at that place where you decide whether getting really wet is really worth it. I got wet. I clutched my beetle spin (my precious-es...) and started thinking about how to appear back at the cabin, wet and yet wise. My aspirations to a fishing sage-like reception evaporated (the water didn't) as I suddenly felt my wallet in one pocket....and my smart phone in the other. Dang.

Long story made medium, Chrissy didn't laugh at me, and suggested 1) a hair dryer and 2) prayer. I got the hair dryer out, mostly to humor her, since you could see the water in the display! The next week I left it in a ziplock bag with a couple of silica gel packets (Chrissy's next idea), the ones that come with your shoes and you shouldn't eat. When we got back a week later, I popped in the bat'ry, and enjoyed my PDA revival. Oh sí, el teléfono vive aun! (the phone still lives...) Chrissy nonchalantly remarked, "I prayed about it..." But I realized I hadn't. I wonder why I didn't?

I think it comes down to this. If one of my kids, or a friend had done the same thing, I think I would have been sad, but thought to myself, "Well, that's what you get." And essentially, that's how I felt, that if I was idiot enough to walk into a lake with a phone in my pocket, I didn't deserve to have one. And, ergo, I didn't deserve to have God resurrect it for me. But is God like that? I've accused Him of being that uncaring and callous, but He hasn't given any evidence to support that notion. To the contrary, that's the whole glorious point of His love in Christ, that "deserving" isn't in the picture. It's just uncomfortable when I see that motive in my own heart. I guess if I'm going to wait to ask God for help until I deserve it, I'll be waiting a while. But hey, more time for fishin'....

Chatted With Edwin & Jessenia

2008-08-20T15:25:00.002-06:00

Chrissy and I had a good chance to catch up on some news from Costa Rica. We talked with our co-workers Edwin & Jessenia Guerra for about an hour. Jessenia shared what's going on with worship in the church at Tres Rios, and she seemed encouraged that the musicians and singers are improving in their technical skills. She's planning to have them all over to her house on Friday to just be together and talk a little about where they find themselves as a ministry. Jessenia also mentioned that she taught last Monday at a ladies' get-together. She said it was a challenge, but I know she did a great job. Edwin told us about a little Mother's Day bash (Mother's Day is August 15th in Costa Rica) at which the men served the ladies. The great thing about this occasion, though, was that a large number of men/husbands helped out that don't usually attend, or have only shown minimal interest thus far. Many of those men then have showed up at church on Sunday. It's only been 5 months since the Institute phase of the project finished, and so that's really good news as the congregation is gaining its own identity.

Dominican Students...Rest of Story

2008-08-19T14:01:00.005-06:00

Our students from the Dominican Republic, 7 of them, didn't actually arrive and begin classes until May of 2008! Talk about riga-ma-roll... It's all about who you know, or don't know in Costa Rica. We knew the right people (I mentioned the diputado, or legislator), and they knew the right people... but they also know a lot of other people, and they all have something to do with who calls whom, and who signs off on what decisions. It's a small country, more like a huge family, and we're not related to anyone! We got the Dominicans in, and they were with us for the rest of the Institute, and legally! But they couldn't leave during that time, on pain of not being allowed back in. That's because their status the entire time was under review, and still is for the one Dominican, Edward Rosario. He's part of the team that stayed on with us for the next couple of years (pictured above). As things stand now, a new law was passed that makes specific provision for religious workers. The same diputado and some other brass worked to get it passed, and now we all have a real option at being able to acquire residency in Costa Rica. (Residency isn't citizenship, but rather the luxury of not having to leave the country every three months.) We've spoken with one of the immigration lawyers that helped frame the legislation, and she seems to be the real deal. How do I know that? The price was right, and you get what you pay for in the professional arena! Anyone have around $6,000 they're not using?

Filling In the Gaps

2008-08-19T12:28:00.004-06:00

Furlough is going well. We've had some marvelous opportunities to reconnect with some people. Some of those we planned to visit, and many of those we have run into by "coincidence". If we haven't run into someone, that wasn't planned, it was probably just nearly impossible. I would imagine that most expatriates experience that during a visit home, because you can't see everyone in such a short window.

Some people may not know just what a furlough is. It's a military term actually, and for people who do any kind of work in another culture outside their own, it can be a very exhausting experience. And so another word for furlough is "rest", though one can only take so much resting before you get the jitters! Our rest has been a combination of reporting to churches that help support the work we do in Costa Rica, and spending as much time as possible with our families. Summer has been a great time for both. Now we're preparing to begin the school year (we'll home school our kids for a semester) and I hope to take a class also, if possible. Some travel still awaits us as we continue the work of telling all that we have seen God do, and some more good times with family are in the offing. But I'm confident that when December arrives, we'll be ready to "get back to work", i.e. return to Costa Rica and keep working there.

When you're on furlough, you hope to regain perspective on what you do and why. You also may have opportunity to do some work that you can't in your overseas routine. One thing I've been at work at lately is revamping our communication system, i.e. how we communicate with friends, family and churches so they can remember us and even pray for us. I hope to be able to not only do that, but to also perhaps revisit the last year in a sort of review. I didn't write much last year about what was going on, but maybe I can do that soon.

Latest News

2007-01-22T11:46:00.000-06:00

Well, the last I wrote had to do with visas for the students from the Dominican Republic. We're still in limbo on that one. Information has been sent, names and numbers faxed, and we're still awaiting word about a meeting with a "diputado" (legislator) who might be able to help us. At the very least, the students there reapplied for their visas, and this time received permission to come for 3 months, but not until April. Our last two students arrive today, from Panama and Nicaragua. Classes will officially begin tomorrow, although informal training, organization, and activities to get to know people has been going on for more than a week.

We did find a 25-passenger bus for Institute use, and it's already passed the test by going to Panama and back! We took our students there for the International School of Youth Ministry, and subsequently the International Youth Conference, both in conjunction with Christ In Youth. It was a tremendous time of service, learning, and bonding for the group. It's good to be back in San Jose, though, as Panama was quite hot.

We ourselves, the King family, have a bit of a speed bump to deal with at the present time. On Friday last I went for our next appointment at the immigration office. I'm not sure I wrote about the last appointment, when they scheduled me for a follow-up visit -- on a Sunday! That kind of gives you an idea of what the system is like here, when they stamp your paper with a date that isn't even a working day for them! If that didn't alert me, the word "rechazado" (rejected) written in ink should have tipped me off. But I asked them as I left, more than once, "When should I come?" They told me I could come on Friday or Monday, my choice. "And this word here, "rechazado," should I be worried about that?" No, by no means should you be alarmed. Just come for your next appointment." At my next appointment, last Friday, I received six official notices of our application for residency in Costa Rica rejected. And they were right, I didn't have any reason to be alarmed or worried, as it wouldn't have helped anyway! Our next step is to consult with an immigration lawyer (I thought we did that when we started, hmmm.) and file an appeal. After that, who knows? Shouldn't I just say, "Everything is going to be alright?"

Visas for Dominicans

2007-01-03T13:30:00.000-06:00

No, that's not credit cards for monks and friars, it's permission for students from the Dominican Republic to come and stay in Costa Rica for a while. We've had some immigration bugaboos here of late, and I've mentioned that via some various avenues as an item that might come up in conversation with God. I wanted to let anyone who's interested know that we've not made any real progress yet, but we haven't been eliminated from the playoff picture just yet. Apparently, according to our legal sources here, the immigration track has been closed to us, since visas were applied for and then denied. But the political track is still open to us, and that is what is being pursued. There is good reason to believe that one of the congressmen here is favorable toward religious causes, and is in fact a believer in Christ. They tell us that he can make a couple of calls and get permission for our students to come, because both of the mainstream parties here need his vote to get anything done. So it comes down to a political favor, I guess. The apostle Paul wasn't above playing his Roman citizenship card when necessary to avoid a beating, so I guess we can ask a public servant for help in an immigration matter.

At the same time, I need to say how great it is to have here with us the students who have already arrived from Mexico and Honduras. We're still hoping for Costa Ricans and some Panamanians after the CIY Youth Conference. The students that are here up to this point are really excited, busy preparing drama and music for the conference, and an incredible encouragement to us all. So we're going to be grateful and enjoy to the full the opportunities we have, and not fret for what we can't control. Thanks for reading!

Mis Casas Son Tus Casas

2006-12-14T15:31:00.000-06:00

Well, we've been concerned about our housing situation for some time now. I guess I've felt impatient and frustrated, like we always do when we don't get what we want when we want it. But we have to say that the wait has been worth it, as we fianlly landed not one but two houses for about the price we were going to pay for one before! Now we have our location for the Institute settled, and housing for both the guys and gals taken care of. As it stands now, we are expecting 6 young ladies to be a part of our crew, and that will be a tremendous asset to the impact these young people will have where they visit and teach. The houses are on a dead-end street, and so that's a plus for security, as well as noise levels. Both houses have an ample back-yard area, which will be good both for recreation of the students as well as possible get-togethers of a church nature. And these houses are large, 3 bedrooms each plus addtional living areas and maid's quarters. We'll be able to house groups when they visit, and have our offices there, as well as study and library space.

Now that we have the lodging issue adequately addressed, we'll be spending the rest of December getting the houses ready and moved in as far as offices are concerned. Another big chore left to tackle is to finalize the purchase of a small people-mover type bus for the students and groups. At the time of this writing, we nearly have a deal finalized. We're just waiting for the call back from the owner, who has to convince his son of the price that he verbally agreed to.

The two houses are actually separated by another house that just rented also, and a North American family is apparently living there. There goes the neighborhood, huh? That's probably what they'll think after they see our bunch! What do you bet they're missionaries or something? I've seen their kind before, swarthy do-gooder types, always smiling like they won the election or some other mish-mosh.

This picture is of the second house, probably where the guys will stay, the classes will take place, and where the cooking and eating will occur. All that green behind the houses is an impenetrable wall of bamboo. We'll probably build something out of it, like a pole barn, or an internet cafe, or a tanning salon. Actually we may create some covered spaces, and have worship there. Still, some giant numb-chucks would be pretty tempting for some recreational combat. I hope my boys don't read this blog. Speaking of them, I better finish this and get home and watch some Bob Esponja. After an afternoon of high-tech blogging like this, some laughter might be the best medicine.

Institute Update

2006-11-28T14:34:00.000-06:00

Hey, this is crazy. I just haven't posted enough to make this a good communication tool. But I'm back, and there's always stuff going on, stuff I know many of you are waiting to hear about. If I haven't said so on this blog, the project that we're involved in here in Costa Rica is a regional training institute that we're calling the International Evangelism Institute. That describes what it's for, "preparing young leaders for the urban church." We're calling this edition of it "El Legado," or "the legacy". Here's how it works. (Picture at right is a student before the Institute)

We've recruited between 10 and 20 young leaders from the Christian Churches in Central America and the Caribbean to come and live in Costa Rica for 14 months. We hope to have around 15 or 16 when they begin in January 2007.

These young people have to have finished high school, be single, and already be leaders in their congregations. While living here in San Jose, they will receive Bible, practical ministry, and life skill classes in the mornings. In the afternoons, they'll be sent out in teams to study the Bible with interested persons in the community we've chosen in which to plant a new congregation.

So these kids will be practicing in the aftenoon what they learn in the morning.

So these kids will be our all-star giant church-planting team for more than a year.

So it's going to get pretty crazy around here, but that's because there's going to be a lot of cool stuff happening.

So we're really excited, as you can probably tell.

So what are the honorable missionaries going to be doing as far as this grand plan is concerned?

Speaking for myself, I will teach some classes, translate for professors and pastors that come to teach, and help with giving spiritual care to the people who decide to follow Christ and become a part of the new congregation. I'm also a contact with the USA, which means I handle communication, legal issues, and fund-raising for the project. We'll also host a good number of groups which will come to visit and/or help with the Institute and/or church plant. That's all.

(Picture at left is same student after the Institute. Impressive, isn't it?)

Right now, if you'd like to be a part of this fiasco, (You think I'm going to ask you for money, right? No way, I need you to read this blog and tell all your friends. Sometimes it's funny.) As I was saying, if you'd like to be a part, do read this blog, and if you pray to God ever, you can mention to Him some of what's happening and ask Him to help us and the people here. He won't mind you mentioning it, since I'm not sure He reads blogs, even this one. How could He choose to read just certain blogs, without offending some people whose blog He didn't read?

Anywhooo, we need to get a couple of things squared away pronto. One is a house to rent for the students and the classes. It would probably also serve as office space for us, and we've found a few really good houses. But they were either too expensive (we're getting over that, now that we've seen the market) or the owners didn't want to rent to 15 students for a year (you can't really get over that). Our last option seems to be a closed door now, as all was cool until they said they would only rent for a 3-year contract. Everyone here signs a 3-year contract, and you can always get out of it if you need to, and people understand that. But since they specifically mentioned it, and know we only need it for about a year and a half, it would be dishonest to rent it and act like we were going to stay for 3 years. Don't you think?

NOTE: Why wouldn't we need it for 3 years, for maybe another Institute? Good question. The Institute idea isn't like a Bible College, with a new class each year. Rather it's a tool that's used when there are young leaders in the region ready for that level of training, and when a new congregation is ready to be planted. It's also intense, and we don't think it would be cool to do them back to back, not very cool for our families. We'll need a break by then.

The second thing we need to take care of before too long is a small bus to cart around students and groups. It's secondary to living quarters, but still necessary, and December will see lots of them for sale, since school is out for the Costa Rican summer. All bussing of students here is private and by contract, rather than provided by the schools, and so lots of busses will be for sale, having finished their contracts.

Well, that's enough writing for now, so I'll bet that's enough reading as well. I'll try to write again soon.

A Walk to Work

2006-10-23T12:06:00.000-06:00

How was your walk to work? Anything novel to report or share with the class? A great book about a walk is Dr. Seuss' "To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street". Sometimes I feel like I'm living on that street, except that I don't have to make any of it up. Yesterday we went to a church in Turrialba, about 2 hours from San Jose. The occasion was to teach in their church service (I did that) baptize some new believers (Roger and I did that), and perform a wedding (Roger did that). Don't ask me why we had to do it and not the local pastor, but we did leave our notes with him so he can step up to the plate next time. Anyway, on the way I saw what topped the pig on a leash that Roger saw in Haiti once. We saw a rooster with a string tied around his leg, and the string then tied to a rock. It kept him from wandering out into the highway I guess. It was a beautiful drive up into the mountains and down into the Turrialba valley.

But I don't have to leave the city to see marvelous things. When I get on the bus, and the driver is in a good mood, that's marvelous. When I get off the bus, and hit the crosswalk just when it's turning green, that's a thrill. When I see the little old lady selling her homemade empanadas, and she proudly shows me her new product, baked cheese empanadas, made with love and no grease or cholesterol, it's a good day. There is always the possibility for a mistep or two of course, for though they call this place paradise, it isn't usually so. For example, the other day I was walking to work, and in a place where lots of people walk, you're bound to find persons that don't walk at the same pace. If someone passes you on the sidewalk, what's that to you? But in some instances, your going to have to find the way to gracefully pass the tortugas who block your speedy access to the path. I usually quicken my step, and even veer off into the street a bit, so as not to make it any kind of personal affront to their carefully reasoned and chosen pace. This approach has worked a number of times in the past, and I think I'm rather good at it by now. I guess I was busy congratulating myself the other day however, as I suddenly found myself walking down the wrong street...oh crud, I took the turn a block early!@!! That wouldn't normally be a problem in most neighborhoods, but in this one near to our office, the blocks aren't all connected. I had no recourse but to turn around and go back, and that would mean, of course, passing the same people that I had just successfully overtaken just moments ago.

Some of you guys know what I'm talking about when I speak of the humiliation of passing the same cars or trucks any number of times on the interstate. That's usually because we're so compassionate with our families and will readily pull over and go the bathroom again, no matter who just went, or if the number of the necessity changed, or the Diet Coke is gone or got warm, or whatever. In doing so, we nearly always lose our position in the race, but that's okay. That's just the kind of guys we are. But you need to hear me when I say that such interstate
humiliation is so insulated and impersonal compared with the urban sidewalk in Central America. My fellow pedestrians know I'm lost, they know I'm a wandering child in a foreign culture, it doesn't matter how shiny my shoes are. They can see my red face, feel the heat of the embarrassment, and I can hear the snickers, which sound so similar to snickers in English. I know I shouldn't complain, it's such a minor thing. It's just my walk to work. How was your walk? Didn't you just come by here? Are they laughing at you?

Live from Honduras

2006-10-06T11:28:00.000-06:00

Hey, this is crazy. I'm in Honduras, and that often means that things don't go as planned. I know that's true of life in Costa Rica, and life in general, but when we lived here, we learned to expect (or at least be open to and not quite as disappointed by) the unexpected. Shall I begin with my bus trip?

I left San Jose at 3:00 am, on a bus line called King Quality. And it's pretty much that, with a few small exceptions. This was a pretty good trip, I was able to sleep a lot, and I probably needed that. Another highlight was that the movies they showed weren't quite as raunchy as the last time. They showed one called "She's The Man," another called "Second In Command" with Jean Claude Van Damme. By the grace of God, the DVD player was very sorry, and so they skipped a lot, and I'm not sure either of them finished. The sound is kind of bad, and if they put on the spanish track, it's a lot easier to ignore. And the spanish subtitles will nearly always translate the dirty words in a much softer presentation. With those advantages, I just about finished two books in between my naps.

The bus wasn't full at all, so I was able to stretch out my legs. An elderly woman and her grown daughter were traveling in front of me, though, and the elder's violent motion sickness was a distraction every so often, poor thing. Later in the journey, the daughter started praying over her, in a similarly violent manner (which isn't funny, rather it represents conviction), and I prayed along silently for her health. There was also a man with a US passport traveling with his wife and another lady, and he had to have the biggest lungs ever known in a human. I didn't see them myself, but I did hear him coughing up various parts of them every so often, poor smoking sufferer. They kept the bus air conditioning at about 55 degrees, so it was a frigid ride, but that is one of the attractions I suppose of traveling in the "Avion Terreste", the "earthbound airplane", as they promote it. A bathroom on wheels, meals and a couple of drinks, and of course the B-movies are all included in the round-trip ticket, total cost about $74.00, taxes and fees at the Nicaraguan and Honduran borders not included.

The direct bus to Tegucigalpa from San Jose is actually the direct to San Salvador, El Salvador. That means you have to change busses in a place called Jícaro Galán about an hour into Honduras. That's no big deal if you know what's going on, as you simply wait at a hotel called El Oasis until the San Salvador-Tegucigalpa shows up. It's a double decker, all the fun thrown in at no extra charge. I waited more than an hour for the second bus, and I was the only passenger to make the switch. As I waited, I watched other busses pass on the highway in the dark (it's about 7:oo pm by now), and I believed I saw the King Quality bus go by without even slowing down. That didn't bother me, I'm expecting the unexpected. I started to make my plans to stay the night at the hotel and find a bus to Tegus the next morning. We had been at this hotel a couple of times when we lived here, and it's got a great pool, and AC! But my new plan was dashed as the real King Quality did in fact pull in, and accepted my ticket even without the correct boarding pass, which they failed to issue in San Jose. What are details like that compared with the overall adventure that life is?

I arrived in Tegus at around 9:00 pm, not bad. But no one was there to pick me up, and so after waiting a spell and arguing with the taxi drivers that wanted to help me (I didn't know where I was supposed to stay, or that might have been a good idea), I hatched a new plan. First, I asked the guard there if they sold phone cards at the terminal (don't read too much into the word "terminal", it's not what you picture) and they did. Right on. Now, to make a couple of calls, which wouldn't be a problem with the list of numbers that Edwin just gave me before I left. But my agenda wasn't in my back pack, I thought I put it there, where is it?!! Okay MacGyver, think, what to do now? My memory doesn't serve, but I remember that I do have my PDA, into which I haven't yet put the new numbers, but which may contain some old ones from the year 2000. I tried a couple of wrong numbers, but they were wrong numbers. I finally got a hold of my friend Darwin Pineda, who grew up in the church at Tegus and has served as the youth minister there. He is studying medicine and works at the morgue right now. Fortunately he wasn't on a call. He said he would make some calls for me, and eventually showed up in a taxi with a friend who drives it. Saved at last, we started to leave the terminal, and went past the police station a half block away. They pulled us over, the driver forgot to put on his lights. And when they asked for license and papers, he realized that he left his license at home, in the rush to get out with Darwin to pick me up, pobrecito waiting alone at night at the terminal. Diay. We were parked there for about 30 minutes while they argued and cajoled to avoid both a fine and a bribe. But we left, we arrived up at the church, and I don't know what time it was when I went to bed.

Turns out that the Pastors, Jorge and Manuel, had indeed gone to pick me up, but at 6:00 pm thinking that's when the bus arrived. Not finding me, they returned and assumed that I would be coming the next day. (Yes, we had discussed all this, but the internet phone connection was pretty sorry, that's the way it goes.) But all's well that ends well, if you don't get your panties in a wad on the way. 18 hours on the bus had left me hungry (no evening meal from Jícaro Galán apparently, just a boxed apple nectar) and I was embarrassed to tell Manuel that I hadn't eaten by that late hour, especially since he was half in his jammies. He left me to rest at the clinic apartment, and I gave thanks to God for a good trip, and for the two bowls of raisin bran and milk that had been left by the last group that visited Tegus. I found the list of phone numbers later, by the way, I had put my agenda in my suitcase so as to make my backpack lighter on the bus. Still live from Honduras.....

Bag Man

2006-10-04T16:30:00.000-06:00

On one of those magical Saturday mornings when you don't have to be anywhere in particular, you can get up when you like, which might still be early. One of the kids will no doubt express their certainty that it's their turn to go to breakfast with Dad. And that might be so. If you don't have to be anywhere, you can go to breakfast, either at McDonald's (cheap, easy, painless), or at a soda, which is a small home style restaurant here, maybe no bigger than your tool shed. Either way there's no hurry, and you can enjoy a cup of coffee with your rice and beans, or Gallo Pinto. But before the middle of the day, you'll want to grab your veggie bag (that's mine in the picture) and saunter down to the feria. The feria is what Costa Ricans call the open air market, if I remember my English colloquialisms. Or maybe you call it a farmers' market. Either way, that's what it is. Produce and knick-knacks everywhere, mostly fresh, and mostly cheap. Do you save any money? I don't know, some would probably say not. Is it all about saving money? Well, saving money is probably not why most people grow gardens, but that's what we often say, isn't it? I go because I like to be there, see people and feel like I'm a part of things.

You Spanish speakers will be correcting me by now, pointing out that the bag in the pix is a sugar bag, not a veggie bag. I guess that's so. But it's been sewed and re-manufactured into a veggie bag, and resold at 300 colones, about 60 cents. And it doubles as a beach bag, too, and who knows yet what else. Are you the kind of family that goes to Grandma & Grandpa's house, and along with the suitcases you have about 37 WalMart bags with all the extras stuffed inside? We used to be like that, but now we have a veggie bag, and I love packing the car. You would, too, if you had one like mine. I may save up and buy another one.

I'm writing an entry here because I'll be heading to Honduras tomorrow so I can teach at a couples' retreat with the Church in Tegucigalpa. I'll enjoy being with so many of our friends there, and I'll be back on Monday night, so I hope I won't miss my family too much. But I'll miss the feria on Saturday morning, and I was just getting into the swing of making it a habit. I've been taking Wyatt with me, or Chloe, and so people are nice to me and fawn over my kids while I buy radishes. They offer sample fruit to me and marvel that a human being could learn another language. I've been eating salad a lot in what amounts to a parasite-prevention campaign, though I guess that could backfire (oh, that's a funny word in this context) if I don't wash my lettuce well. I've been thinking of experimenting with some homemade salad dressing recipes, and we've even planted a few tomato and pepper seeds in pots. But that will have to be on hold for another week, and so I write to spread the grief around. I didn't think anyone would mind.

High Life in Costa Rica

2006-09-28T21:20:00.000-06:00

One of the tremendous experiences of living in another culture is to be able to establish meaningful relationships and have real friends. Our wonderful friends the Abdallahs invited us to share in their little girl's 4th birthday. We spent a fabulous day at the Parque de Diversiones, and then shared cake and coffee at their house. Our kids really enjoy being together, as you can see from this picture of Wyatt and Chloe with Beatriz. Sure, we make every effort to adapt ourselves to the local culture. And we try to always be students of others as we serve as teachers and culture agents. But it looks like Wyatt may have had a little too much fermented banana juice, or maybe not enough coffee. His hostess seems enchanted with his presence, and Chloe is adequately caffeinated.

Not sure what to say....

2006-09-28T20:52:00.000-06:00

I'm not sure what to say about this photo, but it goes along with the street sweeper motif, and is in the same downtown area. I've heard names for this work of art, but I can't repeat them with children in the picture. You can imagine the interest it generates among the tourists, and you can see it on the faces of Wyatt King and Carlee Miller. Actually, their Mommies put them up to it, always looking for a new way to take a picture. Better watch your toes, kids.

Believe it...or not.

2006-09-28T20:24:00.000-06:00

San José is a really neat city. It probably doesn't compare in some ways to other Latin American metropoli in terms of size, wealth, or even development. But it has many advantages that others don't, one of which is the climate. Another is the sense of art and culture that is evident in so many places. New sculptures have turned up in the downtown area, this one in Parque Central off Avenida Segunda. Wyatt and Carlee were happy to lend a hand to the street sweeper. They all stood real still for the photo op.

Drugstore Tales

2006-09-28T15:18:00.000-06:00

Hey, I gotta keep this blogging thing going, don't I? You wouldn't think it would be that hard. I guess I've just got to get focused, get my game face on. What do I want to accomplish here, anyway? I suppose I kind of want to get it all off my chest, release the buildup of experiences and information that accumulate when you live, when you live in a city, and when you live in a foreign city. Tons of things happen everyday, things many people would rather hear about than the dribble they see on CNN and Fox. And I'll be honest, I'm not in all the places of the former, and as for the latter, I decide what gets reported and spin it as I like. This is all free of charge, too.

Any of you out there ever had a parasite? Not like a leech that latched onto you when you were rock bass fishing or putting rice plants in your paddy. I mean like an amoeba, or some worm or critter that finds its way into your system. I lived 5 years in Honduras and never had a hint of a bug. I'm in Costa Rica barely 2 years, and I've been hit like three times. It's a humbling experience. It's uncomfortable, and you feel drained all the time, no energy. When I had one in January, I deserved it, because I was hotdogging it in front of North American visitors, drinking the water right out of the tap. And You can do that in Costa Rica, but not at a camp where the water comes out of the local stream. I got back from Camp Hotdog, and a couple of weeks later, I paid the piper. Eventually I paid the pharmacist, and a few tablets cleared that up. When I got hit again later this year, though, it was more of a mystery.

Since I hadn't been sipping stream water, I thought I better get a lab check before I did any self-medicating. Did any of you ever watch "Quincy" with Jack Klugman years ago? I loved it when he would say, "Sam, get this down to the lab, and get back with me right away. C'maann, Saaam, dis' is impawrtant!!!" I wish I had a Sam to say that to, but here in Costa Rica, everyone carries their own lab cup, and that only after you buy it in the local drugstore and adorn it at home. I had carefully orchestrated my steps so as to be on public transportation the minimum time necessary with my cargo. It all turned out for naught, though, as the results came back negative. When I then decided to treat my symptoms to cheer myself up, the pharmacist (they pose as prescribing doctors here) assured me that a negative test didn't mean that I didn't have an intestinal visitor. Do you think you know more than a pharmacist? So I bought some worm pills, it turns out. I found that out when I finally visited the doctor.

The doctor, of course, asked me to get some new lab results. That meant another trip on the bus, smuggling contraband in my backpack. It also meant a new encounter with a pharmacist. I looked for a different drugstore, and resolved not to volunteer any unnecessary information that might compromise my rugged veneer. Just my luck, only one other customer in the store, a young woman, and the pharmacist was a gal, too. I waited my turn and toyed with the idea of dashing out of the store. But then they would all know for certain that I had a paramecium or something. When she turned to attend to me, the other muchacha was still arranging her purse, so I know she overheard me. "May I help you?" "Yeah, I need a cup for a lab specimen." "What kind of lab cup?" Dang. The last druggist had given me some options, and I just said, "sure, that's fine." Now this one was pushing me to the wall, making me spill my guts. "One for feces....please." It sounds better and very natural when you say it in Spanish, please believe me. I didn't perceive that she necessarily viewed me as any less rugged in that moment, so she must have been a real professional. I paid my money and made a hasty retreat.

Well, this long story needs to finish, and you've probably had all the details you can stomach. With this blogging, I'm like a guy who doesn't have much money for a haircut, and so goes from Ted Nugent to Telly Savalas every 6 months. I got more results at the lab, all negative, and so the doctor is treating me as if I had a parasite anyway. I feel better, and I know the doctor does, too, since he has lots of funny stories at my expense. The one he liked the best was when I told him that I had been taking Phillips Milk of Magnesia. I had mistakenly purchased that when a medical school student friend of mine in Honduras suggested aluminum magnesia to help my stomach symptoms. Now I know the difference, and my doctor knows me as the guy who was taking the home remedy of purging himself with a laxative to flush out a parasite.

I Am....Harry

2006-08-17T13:35:00.000-06:00

I woke up the other day feeling really in between, one of those days when you're not sure what direction to point first. I knew I had a few basic errands to run before I got down to whatever it was that I would later say was what I did that day. So that got me out of the house and on a bus to begin with. A couple of the errands didn't work out (ATM machine down, I don't remember what else) and after dropping off a sample at the lab (maybe it was pesky parasites?) I found myself headed to a sector called Tres Rios. It's a community about 10-15 minutes from our house in Curridabat by bus, and one where I had taken groups before to walk and pray for the people in the area. As I wasn't sure how I would get my failed errands accomplished, I figured I could at least think about a plan to solution everything while walking the plaza. Maybe I could meet some people and make some new friends. I boarded the bus and remembered that I also wanted some maps of the town, for planning purposes concerning our Institute project.

Upon arriving, I headed for the municipality building, not a very good translation, huh? No maps there, it was mostly a place for paying bills and taxes. I did a bit of exploring after that hoping to find the right ATM that wouldn't be out of order. No luck there, and then I had a brainstorm. I needed a haircut, and I had seen a barbershop on the main road before. Why not drop in there and see if I couldn't make contact with the community while improving my appearance? And who knows the community better than a barber, right?

He wasn't doing anything when I walked in, and the price was right, around $3.00 for a haircut. I sat down, and he got started. When I get my hair cut in the USA, I just hate it, because I don't like to talk with someone I don't know. And I don't get to know a haircutter in the USA, because it's so stinkin' expensive. But in Costa Rica, getting my haircut in Spanish, it's easy for me to just talk with someone. After the prefunctory chit chat about how I wanted my hair, I noticed a number of photos on the wall, all of soccer teams. So I asked. Indeed, he was in a couple of them, and told me about them all. In one photo, I recognized the church at Orosi in the background, and thus learned that he had grown up there. He told me he was 64 years old, but had left Orosi when he was a youth. He was mostly from Tres Rios by now, and had cut hair for many years. From there, it was all about his daughter who lived in the USA, his visits there, fishing as a boy, those mountains over there where all our water comes from, the time he was mugged in San Jose, how many times someone had broken into his barber shop and what part of the building they came in, and so on and so on.

Somewhere in the midst of this lonely-barber saga, another older gentleman came in, dressed kind of like a cowboy, sans spurs, more like someone who worked in the hay field, with long sleeves and a straw hat cinched up under his chin. He greeted the barber and asked him if he wanted some of what he was selling, which turned out to be a fruit drink. "What kind is it?" he returned. "Noni," came the reply. Affirmative, and the offered refreshment appeared straight away, along with a little salsa kind of dance, no extra charge. So I asked about noni, a fruit I had heard little about. Noni, I was told, was good for many things, just like vitamins, but they say it is especially good for "sexo". That sounded good, and I told him I bet it was cheaper than Viagra, too. That drew a pretty good laugh, an honest laugh, and I think we were hitting it off.

From there we continued talking, and presently he asked if I would like an order of noni fruit drink for myself. How could I say no, after all we had shared? He went to the door and whistled for his friend, and paid for my first noni drink in Costa Rica. It was really and odd kind of sweet, but I've tasted worse in my travels, and was able to easily get it down. Before I left, we had exchanged names, which doesn't always happen right away in Costa Rica. He is Edgar, don Edgar, and I told him my name was Darrin. I couldn't say it very well, though, and in the end he preferred to call me Harry, which does sound a lot like Darrin when you pronounce it in Spanish. I told him that as of yet I hadn't been given a nick name in Costa Rica, which almost always happens more than once when you grow up here. He did a good job with my hair, as you can see in the picture, but I did change the combing style after I washed it. I have a barber now, and I hope a good friend, and I am Harry.

Darrin

Untitled

2006-08-11T11:37:00.000-06:00

I'm thinking of something a lot lately. In reading some good books lately on the subject, I'm kind of thinking I agree with the idea that the kingdom of God isn't exclusively what Dallas Willard refers to as a "gospel of sin management." By gospel of sin management is meant that the basic point of what Jesus came to do was to make sure that we can be forgiven of our sins and get into heaven when we die. The goal then is to be made good, and stay good until some future state that happens after we struggle through this life. In contrast, it is suggested that the "good news" that was announced as being at hand or available was in fact an interactive relationship with the king (God, Creator) that would be better than not experiencing that interactivity. If you look at the response to that announcement by Jesus, you see people falling over themselves to be a part of it. It was accompanied of course by demonstration in the human life of Jesus of what that interactivity looked like.

Into The Abyss

2006-08-11T10:55:00.000-06:00

Okay, yeah, that's where my blog went, into the pit. I spent a few hours yesterday afternoon creating a masterpiece of a blog for our present and upcoming project, which we're calling very traditionally, International Evangelism Institute. I was kind of satisfied with it, but then the maintenance thing happened, and I didn't calculate the time change well (we're CST always in Costa Rica, so try to figure that with PDT, eh?). Before I know it, I'm getting the page announcing that maintenence of the Blogger site was underway, and nothing saved from my blog. I tried to log in, and no dice. I'm waiting on an e-mail to see if I forgot my username, which is possible. Blogs aren't like figure skating routines that you practice and can reproduce again when you need to. This is part of my job, by the way, to keep a hungry public and prayer support team informed in any way possible. I need to do one in Spanish, too, huh?

I was on the bus this AM on my way to the office. All of a sudden, people in the back of the bus were whistling and hollering. I looked back, and a seated gentleman was kind of looking like he might pass out, his head back and very white. Other passengers were yelling at the driver to stop, which he may not have heard, the bus being very packed. They were all trying to help him, and I wondered if he was headed to the doctor or something. One or two acted like they knew him, but all were very concerned. One lady gave him a chocolate from her purse, like she thought he needed a little high-suger pick-me-up. This is not the first time I've been impressed with how people here are really ready to help someone in trouble. They don't talk much on the bus, but I guess they're altruistic when the occasion calls for it.

Maybe I don't need to manage more than one blog. Maybe I should just include it in this one. That's probably a better idea, to have a mixed salad of sorts in terms of info and stories that can be found here. Anecdotes of cross-cultural living, family stories, Institute updates, recipes, complaints about my health and bowels, etc. Hey, here's a cool bit of lyric poetry that I posted yesterday on my erstwhile lost blog.

I'm so bored of little gods
While standing on the edge ofsomething large
While standing here, so close to You
We could be consumed
What a glorious day

D. Crowder

I hope to be more consistent with postings concerning the Institute for those who want to follow the progress.

Darrin

Are you a pilgrim?

2006-08-04T15:43:00.000-06:00

I guess we're all headed someplace, in this journey of life, how poetic. August 2 marks the celebration of Our Lady of the Angels, Costa Rica's patron virgin. And pilgrims are what it's all about, for days, even weeks before. The idea is to walk from wherever you live to the city of Cartago, pretty much in the center of the country. But you want to arrive on or before August 2, when they have the mass at the basilica. They said they were expecting around 2 million visitors this holiday, in a nation with a population of just over 4 million. Here's how it works.

The brief history of the virgin (also known as "La Negrita") in Costa Rica is that the little black statue (about 20cm high) appeared to a young lady in 1635 on a rock in a forest. Afterv the statue was moved a number of times, always reappearing in the place later, a shrine was built for it. The first pilgrimage was made in the 1650's after it cured a serious illness. La Negrita replaced Costa Rica's original patron saint in 1824.

So now, if you have a sickness or a problem, or just need to be more prosperous, you can make the journey to the shrine, which will involve much suffering and inconvenience. When you arrive, however, you will have some merit with which to ask favors of the virgin, especially after you go the final distance up the aisle to the altar on your knees. If your petition is granted during the year, you'll want to repeat the journey, called the "romería", the next year to give thanks. There have reportedly been numerous cases of answered prayers and healings attributed to Nuestra Señora de Los Ángeles, and you can see many gifts and offerings to the effect housed in glass cases in the Basilica.

There are also a number of deaths and injuries attributed to the journey itself, which can be more than 180 miles if you come from the northwest province of Guanacaste. As the pilgrims crowd the shoulders of the roads (where they exist), there is great risk from inattentive or drunk drivers, and many are killed by cars each year. You can see entire families, and mothers carrying babies in the hot sun, and lots of vendors take advantage of the opportunity to sell water, food, hats, rain gear, etc. Street vendors are not permitted once into Cartago, however, and they won't accept pilgrims who come on bicycles or skateboards either. The Costar Rica Red Cross has more than 1500 volunteers ready, and the police force is increased and on alert.

One other tradition is connected with el Día de la Virgen, and that is new clothes for La Negrita. More than 1000 little dresses were submitted to the Catholic Church here, each hoping to be chosen by the Archbishop as the clothing for the virgin for the coming year. With the fitting of clothes and the gold decorations all around, only about 4cm of the statue can actually be seen. But of course the whole thing has to do with what people believe concerning the statue. While many Costa Ricans express their devotion and affirm the validity of the object of their faith, many others consider that the whole system simply allows people to live in any way they wish during the year, and then make up for it all with a visit to the virgin in August. If you read Spanish, check http://www.nacion.com/ln_ee/2006/agosto/02/ultima-cr5.html for a brief summary of this year's event.

Artsy Fartsy

2006-07-24T13:51:00.000-06:00

Hello all, thought it might be time to drop a note about some interesting stuff here in Costa Rica. A lot of people know that Costa Rica is quite an eco-tourism destination, and they assume that since it’s a Central American republic, it must be underdeveloped. While it is a developing nation, it’s still a far cry from primitive. Especially here in the city, you can feel at times that you’re a part of one of the most cosmopolitan places on the planet. Well, at times. One of those times was a while back, when Chrissy and I had the opportunity to go to an opera. Yeah, where they sing all the lines, usually in a language you don’t understand, and you know it’s done when one of the ladies sings (they were few not amply blessed). This year is the 250th anniversary of the birth of Mozart, and so in honor of that the production was Don Giovanni. And what a production it was! The scene was very simple, even abstract, but they did a good job with the lighting to create moods. We had a great time putting on nice clothes and getting to see the National Auditorium for the first time. It’s right next to the Children’s Museum, which was a nasty prison in times past, but has been totally redone and is truly worth going to see (you’ll need more than one visit, it’s really big). The neighborhood around it hasn’t been remodeled yet though, and so on the way we encountered some very interesting sights, sounds, and even smells. The National Auditorium isn’t very large, perhaps seating 1000? It’s where they have a lot of the beauty pageants, and Zachary & Austin have been in there to see plays on field trips from schools. The seating was comfortable, and we could see that even the cheapest seats would have a good view of the opera. The most expensive seats were in the balcony, about $50 a pop, and that includes a souvenir of the opera, and wine and cheese at intermission. We sauntered up there to check it out, but lost our nerve before we could sample any of the goodies. That wasn’t the case with the couple sitting next to us. They got right in there and seemed to be enjoying themselves well beyond the $50 cover charge. We’re pretty sure they were from some other country, perhaps France, and during the entire production he kept clearing his throat quite loudly (I’m sure you could hear him in the balcony, so at intermission I’m sure they all thought he was one of them). He also clapped quite enthusiastically after each scene, offering lusty shouts of “Bravo! Bravo!” with the conclusion of each aria. He had to know a lot about opera to be doing that, and I sure didn’t have the courage to join him, opera novice that I am. Fortunately, we had found some excellent summaries of the libretto and story online before we went. And Italian has a lot of similar words with Spanish, so we got some of the jokes. It looked from the gestures and such that it was absolutely hysterical! We laughed each timed it seemed appropriate.

Well, after a great night out at the opera and some great tacos al pastor at a local restaurant, we thought we might have reached the pinnacle of artsy fartsy, and we’re still anxious to continue our interface with “culture” within the culture of Costa Rica. There’s always live music, whether at bars, coffee shops, various theaters, or even on the street, and in every genre and style you could want. We read the review of the opera in the paper later, and according to the locals here, it was a tremendous disappointment. We learned that it’s “the only completely Costa Rican opera to be presented since the 80’s, and with good reason” they added. “It just shows how far the country has to go to really be a part of the arts, yada yada.” The whole review came as rather a surprise to us, as we don’t remember seeing anyone there who didn’t seem to enjoy it. Maybe if the critic had attended the same night we did, and heard the opera fan we sat next to, he might want to join us and other families on the long-hair bandwagon. Or maybe it was a simple case of sour grapes, not enough time spent at the wine and cheese table.

Well, that’s all for now. I hope to write again soon with some thrilling insider information from the public transportation arena.

Darrin