quesada, costa rica.
side note: this is the first trip where i was accompanied by my new (new to me, but previously loved) camera.
in the summer of 2008, i had the privilege to travel to costa rica for a medical mission trip with several members from my home church. it was my first summer home from college, and i had been hired as the summer intern along with a couple of my collegiate friends. a little over a week’s worth of time was spent on providing eye and dental care for the local people of quesada (no fear, we had professionals in the house) in the town’s local community center. i proudly worked the eye-chart as if i were vanna white of wheel of fortune, carefully holding my ruler, indicating the line to be read. when i wasn’t posing as the lovely mrs. white, i played with the local children. along with convincing them that my name was indeed “madison” and not “marisol”, we colored multiple pictures out of a coloring book, played a hand game called “choc-o-late”, made funny glasses out of pipe cleaners and even had a few acrobatic acts in the mix, involving hacky sacks, hand stands and back flips.
growing up in texas where spanish is basically a second language, i would try to muster up the right words in order to form at least one simple sentence so that i could communicate with these precious kids. i hadn’t formally taken spanish since my sophomore year in 2005, so let’s just say i was more than just a bit rusty. i was AWFUL. i distinctly remember trying to tell a little girl “you are beautiful”, and it came out completely butchered: “tu eres bellissimo.” an spanish/italian hybrid sentence (and i blame it on the fact that the last time i heard the word beautiful in a foreign language, it was a word thrown around quite often on a school trip to italy the summer of 2005 from a newly befriended owner of a gelato bar across the street from our hotel in rome. this kind, middle-aged man who could pass as my dad insisted that i was a claudia schiffer look-a-like, and my best friend was cindy crawford…. ha. i think thats a bit of a stretch buddy….
anyway….
where were we?
yeah, so, let’s blame my little sentence mishap on that…
i remember the children distinctly raising their eyebrows and laughing at me as i muttered this foreign word, yet they wanted me to keep trying to say something. anything to have that connection. (after my embarrassment was over, my friend caroline informed me that the correct word for “beautiful” in spanish was in fact, “bonita”. ahhh, yes. bonita. “tu eres bonita”.
the week was filled with every emotion in the book. i witnessed a woman being able to see and read her bible again for the first time in her adult life, praising God and singing a song in spanish for all of us in the community center. i also remember another woman who came in and not only had the last few remaining teeth pulled from her mouth, but who needed medical attention far more advanced than anything we could offer. seeing her was as if i was staring death itself in the face. my heart breaks every time i think about her.
i am amazed at the extreme wealth and privileges i have by simply being born in the united states. expanding one’s worldview, i believe, is not only necessary, but vital in human connectedness. pushing ourselves out of our comfort zones in order to not only educate ourselves about the desperate circumstances of those around us, but to reach out a loving and helping hand as well.
my camera was my true companion on this trip. capturing landscape, laughter and life. each day i whipped it out of my “mochila” (backpack), and the children would flock to me as if i held the key to revealing their true identity, squeezing to look at the small glimpse of themselves reflected back on my small camera screen.
as we sensed the end of the week drawing nearer, we were saddened by the fact that our time together would soon come to an end. kimberly, one of the little girls who i had bonded with, offered me her 1st communion certification. i felt so humbled by her gift, and yet i knew i couldn’t accept it, as it was something precious to her and her family. so i wouldn’t offend or upset her, i asked one our fluent spanish speakers to explain to her why i couldn’t take her precious gift.
as we were about to pack up the last of our medical instruments and my vanna white eye charts, and drive away from the community center for the last time, a young boy named jovan asked me if he’d see me again. and not knowing when that next time will be, i said yes. and we left, driving out of the parking lot as the children ran and chased after us.
after we left quesada, and embarked on our three hour drive to san jose, i decided to pursue the language of spanish again. because of those kids, and the warm friendships we made, my love of the language reignited within me.
part of my heart still remains in that little town tucked in the costa rican hills, and yes, one day i do plan on returning, and hopefully finding those children who are probably young men and woman by now, and personally thanking them myself for the direction they pointed me in my life. if it weren’t for kimberly, jovan, jose pablo, alison, and juan among many others, i wouldn’t be the person i am today.
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