Jan 14 2017
January 14 – Soccer in Sierpe
Costa Rica Jan 14th
We woke to the smell of hot coffee and the sound of something sizzling on the stove, the beautiful perks of living in a home-stay. Emily and I sat across the table from each other and drank the dark Costa Rican coffee with eyes barely open, a typical sight at 5:30am. Our host mom had very kindly made us pancakes for breakfast, which we proceeded to scarf down in five minutes, still only half awake. We met up with the rest of our group, each coming from their own home-stays. Then we all loaded into the back of a pickup truck and sped down the only road out of Sierpe, passing kilometers of palm oil plantations as we headed towards our starting point for the morning kayaking trip.
We all slipped into our own kayaks, each of us sitting in small puddle of water that sloshed around under our butts as we became familiar with how to effectively paddle. The channel we were starting in was just one of many that gradually made there way down into the Sierpe River, eventually leading out to the Pacific Ocean. The channel was shaded by looming stalks of bamboo, among a variety of other tall vegetation, and we were kept well hidden from the sun for the majority of our venture. Our guide was a young, quiet man named Anthony, although we were told most people call him Pan, or “bread”. We paddled our way towards the river, lush greenery on all sides and the sounds of a myriad of different animals resounding around us. As we went, Anthony pointed out Toucans and Herons, White-Faced Monkeys, a small boa-constrictor tucked under a tree branch (I still have no idea how he spotted that), and many other beautiful creatures – all only a few feet away from our boats. After an hour and a half the tall trees began to fall away to low marshes and our waterway opened up into the larger river, where we spotted the familiar tourist bars and boat docks of Sierpe. The rest of the morning was spent showering the river water and sweat off and doing a bit more work on the sewing project at Dona Magda’s.
Lunch was a delicious variety of the typical rice & beans, steamed vegetables, platanos, and fresh fruit, all prepared by the wonderful Dona Magda. Everyone split up afterwards, some heading back to the restaurants in search of internet connection, others passing time playing out on the towns soccer field. I sat in Dona Magda’s, finishing up our paper that was due soon. As Kyle and Caroline kicked the ball around the field, I noticed a local man sitting on the far edge of the grass, observing them. I recognized him from around Sierpe; he wore the same oversized tshirt and had long stringy hair that covered his eyes. I’d seen him meandering around, always trying to talk to tourist or locals, seeming a little out of place, maybe asking for money or maybe just looking for a conversation. But now he sat quietly on the side of the field, close enough that my friends could see him but far enough that they could avoid acknowledging him if they so chose. However, this isn’t at all what they did. As I watched from behind the counter, I saw their first initial wave, and I’m sure a few words of broken Spanish were exchanged, then they continued to play on. The next time I looked up he had moved a few feet closer, eyes on the ball that passed between their clumsy feet. A few minutes later I again looked over, and there he was standing in the soccer goal, tshirt hanging to his knees and a large smile spreading across his face. The three of them stayed out there for another thirty minutes before two local boys pedaled up on their bikes, hopping off and running out to the field to join.
I gazed on in pure admiration as this group of strangers, humans with completely different back-stories and a very definite language barrier, laughed and joked together, running around the field. I noticed I wasn’t the only one either; locals driving through the center of town would slow down their vehicles as they passed, no doubt wondering about the peculiar group that had come to take form out on the grass. It made me consider just how impactful one kind act can be – all the good that is perpetuated by one simple compassionate move. I thought of our work with Dona Magda and wondered what all would come of this project, what good it would continue to generate.
Within the next hour everyone had met back up at the small restaurant, all of the previously purchased sewing gifts in hand. The sign was now finished, and we were ready to surprised Dona Magda with the sewing machine and other materials we had bought for her. There was a buzz of excitement in the group as we set everything up and covered it with a decorated table cloth, preparing for the big reveal. We gave our praise to Dona Magda, thanking her for how gracious she had been during our stay and commending her for the incredible impact we had come to understand she had in her community. We were so excited to be aiding such an intelligent and kind female entrepreneur, and we all looked on eagerly as she removed the table cloth to reveal the gifts. Our time in Sierpe had allowed us to understand Dona Magda to be a rather reserved woman, so there was no surprise when her reaction wasn’t one of hysterical crying or expressive hugs. However, there was a polite smile and elated eyes that displayed her gratitude, as she plugged the sewing machine in and sat down to show us what it could do. It was clear that our gifts would go to great use and that she would take full advantage of this new opportunity.
The rest of our day was spent eating dinner with our host families, which was delicious as always, and getting back together at one of the small restaurant/bars to spend time with each other. It was nice to have this first project done and under our belts as we prepared to head out to Campinario the next morning, ready to face an entirely different experience.
-Jess P
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