I had almost forgotten the sound of rain.
Well, for the past several months in Oklahoma, rain itself was something almost forgotten.
But I'm talking about the sound rain makes.
In the States, we keep our storm windows closed so the cool air doesn't escape in the summer and the warm air stays comfortably inside in the winter. To listen to the rain you have to open something up, and, for most of us, it's just too much of a bother to do so.
But here in Costa Rica I have yet to be in a space that is completely closed off from the outside. The windows, for the most part, aren't solid glass. Most of them with which I've become accustomed are louvered shutters, glass or plastic, and even when they are closed there are gaps to allow the outside air to flow through. Most of the time there are not even any screens, so the air blows freely and the sounds of the outside are constantly with you.
So during the night, as I am lying in the dark, there is the sound of the rain gently falling, and the glug-glug as it fills into every hole and crevice outside. I find it immensely calming. Even the thunder is not threatening or crashing like we hear it in Oklahoma. Instead it's the low rumble of the surrounding mountains clearing their throats.
Right now, because it is the rainy season, it rains every day, and most of every night. We have perhaps a few hours in the morning when the clouds have not yet fully developed when we are a little dry. But even then the water drips from the leaves and the pavement always has a sheen. Some of the leaves from which the water drips, by the way, are huge! Large palm fronds, banana leaves, and massive elephant ears. Sometimes they fill with water and then dump a waterfall as you are passing beneath. Once on a trip to Volcan Poaz during another visit, the guide let us break the elephant ears to shield ourselves when it started to rain on us. They worked very well. It is no wonder they call them 'the poor man's umbrella'.
I had almost forgotten. But now I remember.
I arrived in Costa Rica just eleven days ago, and already it feels like I've been here a long time. That is not a bad feeling, by the way.
The University where I am volunteering is a mission of the Methodist church and their objective is to provide a quality education in Bible and Theology for everyone, no matter their race, sex, or social status. In the lobby there is a magnificent statue of a young woman, obviously an indigenous individual, carved from a single piece of what looks like walnut, but is probably from a tree from this area. She is reading from a bible and her expression is one of pure delight. It is an apt symbol for this place and I feel priviledged to be here.
I wasn't sure what I would be doing as a volunteer. There was some initial talk of working with Alvorez in the library. Instead, I have been assigned to Sylvestre Cortez, the ever-curious and very apt maintenance and handy-man. I have yet to see him tackle a job he couldn't complete, including taking apart and restoring the carburator of a mower, resoldering a chip in a tv, replacing the bushings in a washing machine motor, and the list goes on. He speaks no English at all, so our communication is slowly growing as I become more comfortable speaking. He doesn't usually correct my mistakes, but figures out around them what I am trying to say.
I think we are working well together. I hope he feels the same.
So far we've built a wrought-iron structure around an electrical power station for some university apartments(which involed a lot of welding), done all the things listed above, and completely painted and put in new lighting in another apartment owned by the university. They forgot to mention the eight and nine-hour workdays when I signed on.
Later, I am told, I will be working with groups as they arrive to do volunteer and mission work, helping to supervise their work and being of assistance to them in their stay in Costa Rica.
I really didn't bring work clothes. So I have been trying hard to find some. Finally, just today, I found a couple of stores in San Jose that have used 'american' clothing. Got four shirts for a couple of dollars and one pair of jeans. Another pair of jeans will about fix me up. I'm told there are several other of these shops around town. I am determined to search until I have success.
There may well be other tasks to which I am assigned. But for now, I really like working with Sylvestre. For some reason the Costa Ricans can't seem to say the name 'Rick'. It just doesn't compute with them. But Sylvestre calls me 'Ricky' and the other 'Ticos' have picked up on it. I guess 'Enrico' must ring a bell with them. So, I guess I have officially reverted back to my childhood name. That does not give any of you (other than maybe my sis) license to call me by that name, by the way.
I haven't traveled much yet. I did take a day trip with other volunteers to Volcan Irazu. The drive there was quite spectacular and beautiful and the volcano itself offered more of the same. It is the highest point in Costa Rica (over 3,000 meters) and on a clear day (I am told) you can see both the Pacific to one side, and the Caribbean to the other.
It was far from a clear day when we were there. However, there was a brief break in the clouds and all of us were sure we could make out the Caribbean. We may have been kidding ourselves, but it was very beautiful. It was actually quite chilly up there(a little over 55 degrees) and rained very hard while we were lunching. Fortunately the rains let up a little for our drive home. I've taken pictures and will post them to facebook when I figure out the camera, and also to this blog, if I can figure that one out.
The rain seems to have let up a little. I think I may take a little walk around the area to find things I haven't yet seen.
More later.
Hasta luego, amigos.
