Author: Kortney Cena

Location: San Jose, Costa Rica

Before we left Santa Rosa, Costa Rica, our program director Heidi Michelson put us through a re-entry workshop. We talked about the things we would miss, what we have learned, and about some serious fears and doubts we had about returning home. Fears that our friends and family will not understand us and how we have changed, that people will not listen to our stories, or, worst of all, that we will forget it all and revert back to the people we were 5 months ago. But, whether we were mentally prepared for it or not, May 10th came, and we had to say heartbreaking goodbyes to our host families and to the country we have grown to love.

As I took-off in the first flight of a line of planes that lead from Costa Rica to Denver, CO – home— I was a little overwhelmed by all of the emotional and exciting things that had happened already that day. Saying goodbye to my host family was harder than I had even imagined and saying goodbye to Costa Rica itself, the beautiful country full of mountains and trees, through the small and just-slightly-lower-than-is-comfortable plane window was unexpectedly difficult. And the forecast was for more emotional turmoil in the coming hours, as I knew that I would see my real family for the first time in months. Little was I to know that this was only the beginning of my travels that day—and travel is never adventure-less.  Recorded here, in a 3 part series, is the epic tale of my journey home, physically and mentally, and the record of a re-entering experience with plenty of lessons to be learned. In the end, you will find that in all my experiences in Costa Rica, of all the time spent with “ticos”, no one has truly driven home the heart of Pura Vida like an old Granny I met from Houston, and she was able to drive away the fears I had of home.  

Part 1: The Basic Blunders

Erin, another student in the Valpo Costa Rica Study Abroad program, had the same flight as me to Houston. While her connecting flight heads off to Chicago and mine goes to Denver, we got to spend the last few hours in Costa Rica together. As we flew out of Costa Rica and passed over Nicaragua, I happened to look out the window and notice a mountain with clouds around it. But that was no mountain, and those were not clouds either. On second look, I saw that it was an erupting volcano. I elbowed Erin, and we marveled at Central America giving us a last glimpse of its natural beauty. We visited Nicaragua a couple weeks before, we hiked one of its many volcanos, but the view of an erupting volcano, from a safe distance away, was another level of cool. Around the cone, you could see bright red lava, and down the sides, you could see trails of black where the magma had cooled. The steam coming out the top spiraled into the sky. Before you get worried, the volcano didn’t hurt anyone, it was in a rural area and even so, the lava didn’t travel much past it’s base.

As the attendant came around with drinks, both Erin and I responded in Spanish, which I’m sure he found confusing. As we arrived, I creaked my neck to look at Houston through the plane window. Everything was…perfect. Big. Placed with perfect spacing between buildings. The roofs were white—there were none of the cheap and typical tin roof rusty-orange color roofs or green roofs that mark the houses in Costa Rica. Neighborhood blocks were perfect squares and each high school had its own meticulously kept sports fields. To look at all of the wealth, in every direction, it’s easy to forget that most people in the world don’t live this way. Most people couldn’t afford to keep their lawn perfectly trimmed with manicured flowers and bushes rimming it. In fact, my host family couldn’t even afford a lawn. What are lawns for anyways? Do they have a purpose other than to impress neighbors? As all these thoughts ran through my head and we landed in Texas, I had to admit that everyone was right when they said that culture shock is always harder on the way back. As we went to the bathroom for the first time in the US for months, both Erin and I made the mistake of throwing the toilet paper in the trash can and laughed at ourselves for it afterwards.

Immigration in Houston went without a hitch. Well, except for the one moment that Erin tripped on her shoelaces and wiped out as we walked toward the security checkpoint. But we made it through the whole first step of returning to the US with only a few minor scrapes and bruises. We decided to head towards Erin’s gate together, since my flight was leaving an hour later– and unbeknownst to her, her real mother and I had planned a surprise for her! Conveniently, Erin’s mom also needed to take a flight from Houston to Chicago, and had set it up so that she and Erin could take the flight together, but she wanted this to be a surprise for Erin. I knew that this plan was going to result in tears– Erin had barely slept the night before, trying to make the most of her time in Costa Rica and putting off packing until midnight, and she had also already cried a couple times today when saying goodbye to her host family and to Costa Rica. As soon as Erin saw her mom, she erupted in tears, and the two enveloped each other in a great big hug. After a couple moments of happy sobbing, and some cute pictures, the two of them had to get in line to board. And after all we had been through together, Erin and I had to say goodbye (for now).

Blogger: Kortney Cena

Program: San Jose, Costa Rica – Study Center

When you study abroad, you are thrown out of your comfortable little pillow of friends and family, and you must grow an entirely new community. Your cohort becomes like family, and your host family, even more so.  

There are only 3 people in the Valparaiso Costa Rica study abroad program this spring—Erin, John, and I. While I knew Erin before coming here, I had never before met John. After this experience, we have grown close enough to talk about anything together, and we often do talk about anything and everything in order to entertain ourselves during the train or bus rides home each day. We have shared classes, group trips, ice cream stops, and all of that really has been wonderful, but when it comes to bonding there really is something special about being able to talk to people who are going through the same struggles that you are. For example, it is far more satisfying to discuss the language barrier I face with Erin or John than it is with a friend from home, even if it’s just because one of those two can respond by telling me of their own language mistakes! But like we all say, nothing helps you bond like fending off a persistent drunk guy who wants to chat you up on the bus ride home from San Jose. After that experience, we have a greater level of trust and comfort with one another. (Don’t worry, that’s not normal here, that only happened once).

As for my host family, it has been such a humbling experience to receive their love, to learn to relate with them, and to finally grow relationships with them. When I first showed up, I only seemed capable of making messes. They do things differently, and so I didn’t understand how I could help out with anything in the house. And the worst part was I couldn’t even ask about it since my Spanish was at such a low level. But my family loved me anyways and expected nothing from me. Over time I have learned how to fit into the families’ daily schedule and help out here and there. I’ve also gotten more and more able to discuss things with my family, more in-depth things than just the daily necessities. To give you a little taste of the people I am growing to love like family here, here is a little introduction to my host family:

I have a pretty strong connection with mi Máma, Isobel (probably because she feeds me every day). She is both enormously hospitable and also feisty. For example, when I arrived, she made sure to let me know I was welcome by giving me gifts— a butterfly postcard that read “Bienvenidos Kortney!” and a cute little moneybag. But also, when one of her teenage children get out of line, she has been known to chase them out of the kitchen with a large mixing spoon, asking Dios Mio for patience. The special thing we always do together is go to community Zumba classes with a bunch of other women in the neighborhood. She swears that the exercise of Zumba makes you thinner, and she tells everyone who meets me that Zumba is teaching me to dance like a Tica! She also loves to brag about my cooking habits to everyone. She tells people about how I like to cook united-statesian meals for the family sometimes, or how I made my host sister Ashly a coconut chocolate cake for her birthday.

Mi Pápa, Francisco, likes to keep busy. He is always working on some new home project, and yesterday I helped—minimally—while he constructed a new table. Once we discussed how to live a healthy lifestyle, and he explained that taking time to yourself to relax is important for your emotional and physical health since it lowers overall stress. But when I asked how he ever gets time for that, he joked that his personal relaxation time is whenever he is working on refurbishing a new couch. He loves to share things with his family, and sometimes he’ll go on a surprise ice cream trip to bring everyone ice cream!

The oldest son, Kendall (18 yrs old), goes to school some mornings and works some evenings. He is pretty busy, but when he is around the house, he is quite chistoso— he only seems to open his mouth for funny or sarcastic comments! He loves to learn about new cultures, so he enjoys having foreign exchange students living at his house. The company he works for is actually going to be sending him out to the United States for 6 months of training in August, where he will likely learn what it is like to be the extranjero! He also has a talent for baking, and I have to say, his tres leches cake is one of the best baked goods I’ve eaten!

Ashly, my beautiful 15 year old host sister, is kind but feisty (like my host mom) and she has a crazy personality. She has a horde of poor Tico boys who want her attention all the time. She finds school exceedingly boring, and always doodles during the times her school friends get together to do homework together. But it has been cool for me to be able to help her with her English and Math homework whenever she can be motivated to work on them. She loves to listen to popular music, dance like a silly person, and to make you laugh.

And, finally, Ian Santiago (Santi for short) is only 6 years old, and he is my constant companion. He seems to think my second job (other than being a student) is to entertain him! Which, most of the time, I really don’t have a problem with: we watch movies together, give each other pen tattoos, and play with cars. It is also very fun to go to his futbol games, even though he has his head in the clouds and doesn’t really touch the ball much– (last game the only time he touched the ball is when some other kid accidentally kicked it into his face). He is an especially sweet kid and already great with the ladies—he told me (bashfully) about how he has four girlfriends! Apparently, none of them have a problem with his infidelity, and he doesn’t seem too conflicted about it. But I suppose that is relationships in elementary school!

Other than my host family, there are a lot of other unexpected friendships that have bloomed up and grown the community that I have in Costa Rica. I have had good times with people from classes in the University of Costa Rica, have met people from around my neighborhood who come over to hang out with my host family, and have spent considerable time with both Erin’s and John’s host family and their friends. Finally, I didn’t expect to have such fun spending time with the program director/professor Heidi Michelson! Class discussions with her often feel more like friends meeting together and talking about life than a necessary academic activity.

This all goes to show, that you may leave your comfort one and head to a new place where you don’t know anyone, but with time, people come in and fill up your life. It happened when I first headed out to Valparaiso University after high school, and it happened again in Costa Rica. Without these connections and people, I think I would probably be miserable, even in Costa Rica, the most beautiful of places. In fact, I think this is why the first couple of weeks were the hardest, because it was before these relationships had really formed. But being kind, attentive, and interested in the people around you– asking other people questions and then listening to the answers—these are the things that have grown my community. Little by little, people are being added to my family, people from all kinds of different places in the world: Colorado, Indiana, Michigan, Florida, Costa Rica… and all I can do is be so thankful for them all.  

Blogger: Kortney Cena

Program: San Jose, Costa Rica – Study Center

All my life, I hated the taste of coffee. Even through college, I resisted being one of the many students who were coffee or caffeine dependent. But after only two weeks in Costa Rica, I have learned to like coffee. I suppose when coffee is fed to you in the morning, again during morning coffee break, then during afternoon coffee break, and sometimes even with dinner, you have no choice but to start enjoying it. And a lot of sugar helps!

Indeed, Ticos like their coffee! But the cultural tradition of the ‘coffee break’ is about more than this rich drink. The coffee break is a cultural expression of Costa Rica’s community culture.  In a community culture, there is a greater commitment to relationships than there is to work or to other obligations. Everyday in Costa Rica, there is at least one break sometime around 3:00 pm for people to get coffee and to develop relationships with the people around them. At work, the time is spent getting to know co-workers. In school, sometimes we have multiple coffee breaks throughout the day in order to break up 3 hour long classes and to talk about life with other students. When I have spent coffee break at home with my Tico family, I have found the coffee break is a greater family event than even dinner is. Everyone sits together and talks during coffee break, while the same may not be true of dinner.

I very much enjoy the community culture of Costa Rica, but it is very different from the culture that I come from in the United States. In the United States, work is done first while relationships happen second. At first, I thought that business in the United States was more efficient because of this priority. Maybe this is true, but having seen business in a place with a community-oriented culture like Costa Rica, I would challenge that idea a little bit. The idea here, is that doing work with others is easier when you have a relationship with them and have established trust. And I have seen this to be true. It is not as if work doesn’t get done!

Confronted with this different way of life, I do wonder if the different priorities of the community-oriented culture is better than the priorities in my home culture in some ways. When every business transaction is also about the relationships with other people, I tend to think that those transactions would be more enjoyable and could result in new friendships. Overall, we end up with a population that is more happy at work, and each person has more friends to speak of. Finally, the community is more connected on the whole. There is a reason Costa Rica is one of the happiest countries in the world! So even if these priorities are not the most efficient way to run a business, would this be justified by the fact that the people are more happy? In this war between happiness and efficiency, it seems to me that while Costa Rica has chosen happiness,  the United States has chosen efficiency. I have seen this through my experience in college, where the amount of work that students are expected to do is ever increasing and a great importance is given to a student’s productivity. Its almost like a competition between students: who can handle the most work?

Perhaps the United Statesians can learn something about happiness from this small, central American country where everyone wants to go on vacation and where people live la pura vida, the pure life. Perhaps we can change the cultural structure that makes work separate from friends and leave little time for relationships to have a more community based culture too. But the most concrete takeaway I can give here, is try and take time to appreciate the people around you, and if you ever get the chance to visit Costa Rica, don’t miss out on spending time with the Ticos during coffee break!

Blogger: Kortney Cena

Program: San Jose, Costa Rica – Study Center

During Holy Week, the Costa Rica study abroad program took an educational trip to Nicaragua. Though the trip was technically to teach us about the realities of poverty, the impacts of historical events upon current day circumstances, different types of healthcare systems, and many other things about the unique Nicaraguan culture, it conveniently served the dual purpose of fulfilling Costa Rican immigration law, which only allows foreigners to stay in the country undocumented for up to 3 months at a time (After a week in another country, we were safe to re-enter Costa Rica for another couple months)!

To make sure we are all on the same page here, geographically, Nicaragua and Costa Rica are so close to each other on the map that they share a border (neither Costa Rica nor Nicaragua is islands, they are both small countries that make up part of Central America, connecting Columbia to Mexico). So, driving up into Nicaragua from Costa Rica only took a couple hours. The weather in Costa Rica is amazingly temperate most days– Ticos say it’s cold when it gets down to 65 and they complain of heat when we get to the upper 80s. I expected Nicaragua to be similar since it is so physically close to Costa Rica on the map.

But Nicaragua is different. Now I have experienced heat—I was born in Arizona, have lived through a Midwest summer, and even have visited Texas during the hot month of July—but heat is different when there is no air conditioning, no ice, and no possibility of a break from the constant heat. The only moment of any day when I did not feel smothered by heat was when I was taking a cold shower (which was good because warm water was not really an option). Nicaragua has the kind of heat that makes your clothes stick to you, that makes it hard to concentrate, and that saps all of your energy. Being in the car felt like being in an oven, and opening the windows only let more warm air in. Erin, Daniella, and I, who were riding in the back seat of the car, ended up plugging in little USB powered fans into the phone charging port of the car order to survive car trips!

Knowing that us extranjeros were delicate, my Nicaraguan host family provided a fan for me. I became very attached to this fan— It is funny how valuable something so simple can be when it is all you have. My first host family was a middle class, typical family in Managua. It consisted of about 11 people living in one (relatively) big house. There was one shower and one toilet, both in the backyard. I didn’t mind using them, though I haveto say, there is a special trick to being able to put on new clothes while in the shower, with sandals on, in the dark, without dropping all of your stuff or old clothes in the soaking wet. They fed me gallo pinto most meals, a simple mix of rice and beans and a staple for poor families in Latin America. But often, wanting to make something special for me, they were nice enough to make me fruit juice from purified water, since I couldn’t drink the ordinary water which often harbors bacteria or even parasites.

After only a couple of days, the people of my host family were talking about me as part of the family, and I was amazed how fast these people had accepted and decided to love me. The mama of the house, a delightful older lady who loves to tell stories, wanted to share everything she had with me. She even paid a motorcycle-taxi to take us to the house one night, just so I could have the experience of riding in one (which was very exciting by the way). The little girls of the house did my hair, gave me stickers, played games with me, and one even translated my homework for me! The stories go on. From these people, I learned about the openness, kindness, and willingness of the Nicaraguan people to share their lives, their limited resources, to teach what they know, and to welcome you into their midst.

More than learning about generous hospitality, I also learned some practical skills as we traveled in Nicaragua. I learned to wash clothes by hand and hang them up in the courtyard to dry overnight. I also learned to play “duck duck goose” in Spanish. Some ladies taught our whole group how to handmake corn tortillas, laughing at our weak hands which get burnt so easily, and explaining how some days they make over a hundred of these tortillas. We also learned to make some traditional Pascua (Easter) deserts. When it came to the farm, we learned how to milk a cow with your bare hands and how to catch a baby chicken (tip: you get a local kid to do it).

Of all these things that I learned, the most impactful experience was in rural Nicaragua, a small town called El Bonete. The people in this town were severely impoverished and had little access to resources. It was explained to me that the only way to have a real house is to have a family member in the States. Despite the fact that every adult in the village had at least one school degree, and many had two or three, they were all struggling hard and fighting to get by. Recently, this has become a fight against their very environment, as each year it gets hotter and the rain starts later. Most of the livelihood of this community comes from agriculture or livestock, and those things directly depend on the environment. As I looked at each dusty, brown field where herds of emaciated cows tried to find shelter from the sun in the scant shade of a couple trees, I wasn’t sure who was going to win this fight. The change in the environment for these farmers has been partially due to the deforestation of Nicaragua. Most Nicaraguans still cook with wood rather than electric or gas stoves, and as the land is deforested it gets hotter and has worse soil. But additionally, Nicaragua has the severe misfortune of being geographically situated where climate change has great effects. “Our children don’t know what it was like before, they only know what it is like to grow up in this heat,” said one mother. “Go back, and tell the United-Statesians, how we are suffering from the heat,” said the Pastor of the town. As we drove out of El Bonete, seeing the heat waves radiating off of the road in front of us, we noticed on the side of the road a bony, white horse laying in the dead grass, unmoving.