Parting Remarks; New Realities by Cindy Wang

Week 14: Las Cruces biological station and the penultimate week of the semester, a final week of many. Monday, promptly after lunch, data collection for our independent projects commenced and perhaps, sadly, I saw what I had expected. The Ngöbe-Buglé people working on these plantations lived in families with 10+ members under a single roof, the women had children at a young age (and they have many of them), housing conditions were consistently dismal and run down, high body mass indices (BMIs) were the norm, and if it weren’t for the Caja Costarricense de Seguro Social (CCSS) and our indigenous cultural advisors, none of them would have spoken to us. I think it’s a very different phenomenon hearing about how these people live and seeing them first hand. 

A photograph taken on day 1 of data collection (November 16, 2015). Photograph of a kitchen inside the residence visited for observation. This house was not occupied at the time that the picture was taken.

At first I felt sad for the women who seemed so timid and reliant upon the men in the community. Then I thought perhaps this is exactly the type of ethnocentric thought Hector warned us about: as much as I am a fervent proponent of equality, it’s unfair to assume that their culture is like mine. But to what extent do we allow these differences to be “cultural” before they turn into negligence on our parts for not helping these people live and survive? In walking through one of the houses, I found it hard to believe that people lived here. Not only because of the uncleanliness or minute size, but also because of the billowing smoke filling the rooms; the “kitchens” were outside yet the smoke seemed to follow you throughout the house; the smoke was so thick that standing in a room for barely a minute to take heights and weights made my throat, eyes, and nose ache and burn. In seeing this, I was no longer surprised that these peoples were ‘respiratory symptomatics’ – suffering from a productive cough lasting longer than two weeks. In fact, I was surprised that they didn’t have more respiratory problems from living in these conditions...

A photograph taken on day 4 of data collection (November 19, 2015). The local health officials (CCSS) have set up tents and lights in order to give a presentation about various health topics to the highly mobile, indigenous coffee workers. They subsequently provided basic health services to those who needed them.

By the end of this tiring week, I don’t know that I feel more satisfied than I did 6 days ago. The way that these people live is miles beyond the world that I have grown up in, no matter how much I try to align our commonalities. Coming from the United System, given the privilege of birth into a particular system, I have mobility and opportunities more than people from most other countries. I have grown up believing the right and access to education was innate, yet it is in reality a privilege the US government gifts to us. Education and healthcare, housing and support, freedom and mobility: the list is expansive. Beyond what implications this project may or may not have, regardless of whether or not any of our data prove to be significant, this project, and perhaps this entire semester’s experiences, has left me humbled in acknowledging my privilege, and indicted with a hopeful mandate to use this knowledge to some betterment in the future.

Running through the Semester by Masha Toulokhonova

            By now, our eyes open naturally at the crack of dawn. Without speaking a word we change out of our pajamas, lace up our shoes, and quietly shut the door behind us. Watches beep as the timer starts and we place one foot in front of the other, slowly waking our bodies up. Morning runs have become the singular constant throughout the fast-paced, ever-changing semester. With this daily activity we’ve created an outlet to de-stress, honor our bodies, explore the beautiful surroundings, and form lasting bonds.

            Since we have not had a permanent home for the past four months, I’ve been living out of my bag (probably not the best idea), with the exception of my running clothes. A group of us has made an effort to run in every location we visit and because this is our second visit to Las Cruces and the final destination, our goal is accomplished. Not only have we attained our goal, but also looking back on the semester in terms of running locations has been a means of evaluating our progress and growth.

The past three weeks have especially been a time of reflection. With the onset of our individual projects (IP) and with the closing of the semester, our runs have been particularly beneficial. To lay out the vibes: all four IP groups had different schedules in terms of data collection, everyone had a lot of work to do, and we all had conflicting feelings due to the semester ending. My group’s project involved data collection from 3 PM – 10 PM with no defined schedule. Although I am self-proclaimed lover of fast-paced, unmonotonous work, it was tiresome and difficult at times. After data collection, we had to analyze the data, write the final papers, create posters that highlight our project, and discuss our findings during a two-hour presentation session. On top of that, conflicting emotions hover above. I’m excited to go home but apprehensive about leaving Costa Rica, happy to see my friends but sad to leave the ones I’ve made here, eager to taste my favorite foods again but troubled by the fact that I won’t be able to make gallo pinto that compares to Costa Rica’s.

Despite the disorderly schedules and tumultuous emotions, running has been the channel to a clear mind. I’ve been able to think through my emotions, slow down, appreciate my accomplishments, and most importantly express gratitude for the experiences I’ve had here.

The Better Way: Addressing Differences and Leaving Costa Rica by Rachel Black

            Before heading to Las Cruces for the last few weeks of the semester, we spent a couple days at the small research station of Las Alturas, which is located on a privately owned farm near Panama. It was a complete 180 degree change from the atmosphere and pace of life in San Jose: the forest was right outside our window, we went without electricity for most of the day, and the people lived closely and shared produce from the local community gardens.

During our time we had the opportunity to volunteer at a local health center, which operates similarly to an EBAIS, and tour the local dairy and livestock farm. The second day my group visited the farm, and I tried my hand at milking a cow (not as easy as it looks). After a brief introduction the local agronomist told us how the farm raises livestock and milks cows the, “old, old, old, old way,” in comparison to larger, mass-producing farms. After seeing how much land the animals had for grazing and how kind the workers were to the animals, I proudly said, “It’s the better way!”. However, without skipping a beat, he quickly reminded me that everything’s a trade-off; although the milking is all done by hand and the cows have more land, that means at some point more of the forest had to be cut down. He mentioned how it’s not necessarily one way being better than another, because all have downsides and changes that need to be made.

Although in my personal opinion, this method of cattle-raising and dairy production truly is better than the many highly mechanized and confined versions we have in the States, this served as a good reminder to me, especially as I think about my return to the United States. There are many things about Costa Rica that remind me of or are very similar to the United States, but obviously there are also staggering differences in culture, family and social interactions, food, health systems, and day-to-day lifestyles. During my time here it was very easy for me to see a difference between the two and automatically write-off one as ‘better’ and one as ‘worse’, or one as ‘good’ and one as ‘bad’. This is generally human nature, but as I transition back to my routine in the US I want to think more critically about the differences I saw in order to make conscientious changes to my life back home. For example, it’s very easy for me to become frustrated by how much money we spend on healthcare in the US with how many people still lack access to care, especially when I compare it to the universal system in Costa Rica. But once again, there are advantages and disadvantages to each, and I believe this process of examining both sides will provide the longest-lasting impact in my life.

Public vs. Private Healthcare Disparities by Cindy Wang

           

            Once again, I am reminded about the value of healthcare; we spent the large majority of last week traveling the roads of Nicaragua with the Vida organization (http://www.vidavolunteer.org/), visiting and learning about aspects of their public health care system. In Nicaragua, unlike its Costa Rican counterpart, public healthcare is free and mandatorily dispensed to anyone in need. The public clinics were overcrowded, over-heated, and underwhelming. In our tour of this facility, similar to our experiences in Costa Rica, we were allowed to walk into the rooms of patients who appeared before us exposed and vulnerable. We were told that this invasion of privacy was “okay” because we were students and we were there for academic purposes. In absolutely no healthcare facility in the United States would this be permitted as it undermines the most fundamental ethical code of patient privacy. Did being allowed in by local officials somehow make this ethical? Or was it perhaps more unethical of me to be in there because these practices are not accepted in my country? As much as I admire the efforts of the government to attend to the health of its people, in walking through those halls I could not help but feel guilt in comparing my standards of health care to theirs. I have never been packed into a waiting room so full that people had to stand against the walls and still find themselves touching. I have never had groups of visitors, even students, walking through the halls gawking at the facilities and the patients. And unfortunately, because I can afford it, I may never have to.

Inside an empty patient’s room in a private hospital.

          

As part of our experience in Nicaragua, we also visited a private healthcare facility and the disparity between the two hospitals could not have been greater. The clinic mirrored those found in the US both in appearance and efficiency: the building was fully air-conditioned, every inch was immaculate, the staff was well trained (and English speaking) and all of the facilities were modernized. The biggest difference? The waiting rooms, and a seemingly large number of patient rooms were empty. We were given a tour of the grounds and the codes of privacy that I am accustomed to seemed to be re-established. While we were allowed to walk through patient recovery rooms in the public clinics, our guide told us that we were not permitted to enter any patient rooms to protect their privacy. Where people seemed to be lined up for treatment in the semi-urban facilities, waiting rooms and treatment areas in this hospital were next to empty. In walking through these vastly different halls, I became very aware of how much the value of a dollar truly is and how great the disparity between the classes is perpetuated. I agree that healthcare is a fundamental human right and your ability to pay should not affect your quality of care, but what possible solution is there? I admire Nicaragua and Costa Rica for their efforts to make healthcare universal; however, I think that Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and the US alike have different yet great strides to make on this front.

Inside the endoscopy examination room, also in the private hospital

Palo Verde National Park, Costa Rica by Masha Toulokhonova

The entire bus shouts “CLOSE THE DOOR!” with terror and panic resonating in our voices. Given all of the forewarnings and advice we received regarding Palo Verde, this was a highly anticipated moment. In the less than five seconds that the Coaster bus door was open, at least eight hefty sized mosquitos flew in. At least we were mentally prepared.

            Although I cannot speak for the rest of the group, I can say that personally, I had negative emotions coming into Palo Verde. However, I certainly left with a positive outlook on the experience and a newfound appreciation for the less well-known ecosystems of Costa Rica.

One-centimeter sized bugs called mosquitos caused these negative emotions. To be honest, I was very afraid. Right before jumping off the coaster and into the nearest building, I put on sweatpants and a sweatshirt in order to protect my extremities. As pajamas for the first night, I wore a long sleeved shirt, long pants, and I requested that my roommate tuck me into my mosquito net. I am ashamed to admit that it was between 80 and 90 degrees while I wore this clothing. Absolutely ridiculous!

Much to my surprise, the mosquitos were not as bad as expected. I was able to run outside on a beautiful path each morning without a bother and by the second night I was able to wear shorts and a tank top like a normal person would do in hot weather. Tempted by the delicious food we were served, white-faced capuchin monkeys strolled the roof of the comedor and leapt from tree to tree to examine us curiously with their cute little faces. We saw the rarest of migratory birds bathing in the beautiful wetlands as horses and cattle strolled nearby, and we stood nearby as two elegant tayras (Eira barbara) fought on the limbs of a tree and then fell into the river below. The wildlife I was able to see and the knowledge I gained from experiencing the wetlands and dry forests of Costa Rica allowed me to totally neglect the cause of my concern.

From our stay in Palo Verde, I realized that I shouldn’t let rumors or speculations affect my outlook to a great extent. It’s important to be prepared and to have some expectations, but to have such strong emotions beforehand can leave you predisposed to have a negative attitude. This week was a valuable experience and one I won’t forget!

Neglecting Roots to Tend Branches by Amanda D. Strong

Granada, the first settled town in Nicaragua.

During our stay with VIDA Volunteer in Nicaragua, I found myself attempting to answer a quite controversial question. After traveling to many different parts of the world it seems that every country has its own special history that makes it unique from the rest, especially in the non-Western world. For the first time I began to wonder what Costa Rica’s was. When you “Google” countries in Central America to visit, it is obvious to see that Costa Rica is one of the most internationally sought after travels. After spending a month and a half traveling to different provinces of the country and witnessing vastly different levels of living, I have yet to discover what really makes Costa Rica, “Costa Rica.” I mean, after traveling to Nicaragua and having traveled to Panama in the recent past I can definitely say it’s incredibly different from its neighbor countries.

A cave under Volcán Masaya - where tribal rituals took place.

Whilst in Nicaragua and speaking with our VIDA guide, a self-proclaimed historian, I was able to learn in detail about the history of Nicaragua. Not only are there many tales of rich origins of its people, but there are also many discussions based on the history of war and broken government there. That moment was when I began to realize that Costa Rica doesn’t have that type of complex history at all; as a matter of fact, the history of Costa Rica is very simple and consistent. The only controversy that the country has suffered from (and still suffers from) was between the Spanish (now, the government) and the indigenous communities. Even so, all of the indigenous communities combined only make up less than 2% of the population, which makes the problem easy for most of Costa Rica to ignore.

If I could describe Costa Rica in two words, they would be: biodiversity and tourism. There seems to be a lack of native culture, as if Costa Rica lacks its deep roots that remind it of its time before Europe made her mark. I can’t tell if the country changed to appease the world’s tourism or if the tourism came because Costa Rica has always had a sense of isolation from the rest of Central America. In the beginning of our ethnobiology course, we watched a Ted Talk by Wade Davis entitled, “Dreams from endangered cultures” (that I recommend anyone with any worldly sense watch). As an Afro-Caribbean American I immediately related to this lecture. However, I am just now finding myself in a position to realize that Costa Rican culture is truly on the edge of extinction. Other than the indigenous communities, the people of Costa Rica seem to have always been content with the influences of Spain and even take pride in it. Of course, there is absolutely nothing wrong with taking pride in all that you are, but is it fair to neglect your roots while tending to your branches? Wouldn’t you surely perish?

P.S. A good example of these issues is found in the last paragraph of “Ethno-tourism: Leaving an Unwanted Mark” by Keaton Stoner (October 15, 2015).

Ted Talk Link: https://www.ted.com/talks/wade_davis_on_endangered_cultures#t-38584