Polish

2/24/14
“Rafa!” my host mother called in a hurried voice. “Come see what the student is
doing!” My host mother Herminia stood behind me in the outdoor patio, swaying from side to side putting her weight on each foot, watching me as if I was her child taking his first steps. “What’s he doing?” Rafael asked before he made it out of the doorway. “I’ve never seen a student do it before. Look, he’s polishing his shoes!” I replied to the two parents in Spanish, “It’s good for the leather, and don’t they look nice?” I held up one shoe, halfway polished. Rafael smiled and disappeared to his workshop. “No, I know,” Herminia assured me, “...but no students take care of their shoes. Not even the young Ticos.” I returned the smiles, and continued to polish my boot. Rafael reappeared and tapped me on the shoulder. “Here, use this,” he said, showing me a worn brush. He grabbed
my other boot, tapped the brush in the polish, and began to scrub away at the worn leather. “See? Now you give it a try,” he smiled, handing me the brush. Herminia continued to sway with subdued excitement in the background.

           With a solid month here in Latin America under my belt, I’ve yet to settle on a final opinion of how I believe I’ve settled into this new culture. I feel almost no friction between my host family and I, but lack a real connection. I’ve done some incredible touristy things, but haven’t felt the high of true cross-cultural connection. Currently, my state of mind leads me to believe that I might not have been letting myself feel the small victories here in Costa Rica, like the morning of bonding that rose from shoe polishing.
         Sandwiched between a long week of ICADS and the “finals week” that I’m one day into, Sarah, Lauren, Sam, and I headed to a beautiful valley town called Orisi. After classes on Friday, we stood outside “Popeye’s Chicken” (the Ticos love the American fast food chains here and sometimes use the restaurants as refrence points), caught a bus, and headed to the nearby city Cartago. From there, we took an Orosi bus and caught a picturesque vista as we slowly decended the windy valley road. Orosi is a town no more than 2000 located just west of Cartago, and is covered in small coffee plantations. On arrival, we enjoyed the lack of scheduling pressure and began to wonder the city wide eyed and laughing. We bought 8 Maraguyas (sweet passion fruits) and took turns pointing out our favorite aspects of the landscape.
       After more than an hour of aimless wondering, a friendly school bus driver picked us up and dropped us off at the dirt road that led to our hostel. Hostel Case Del Café, a brightly lit, couldn’t-miss-it building was run by a tiny Dutch man. Walter spoke little English, and even less Spanish, had a trendy ear piercing, blue eyes, and two adorable boys, Jericho, 5, and Orobi, 2. I spent the remaining afternoon and better part of the evening sharing life stories with the man, who seemed desperate for conversation.
      The next day featured a ride in the in the back of an unmarked 4x4 to Tapantí, Costa Rica’s wettest national park. Hidden by dense forest, too dark to wear sunglasses in, was a pristine and secluded river where we spend the better part of the morning swimming and sunbathing, and downstream we found some natural hot springs. By late afternoon, Sam and I were headed to Cargtago, not even a full day after we’d arrived in Orosi.
I felt bad chatting on the phone with friends in various countries, unable to properly capture the feelings of contentment springing from Orosi and recount the warmth generated from the little shoe polish episode connection. I read the blogs of other students studying abroad in Italy, the Netherlands, and Botswana, and can’t help feel like I’m wasting time studying in a program where I’m not learning much. But then I have moments like today’s breakfast.


“And where are your boots? I can smell the polish, ¡Ay, que rico huele!” Herminia asked me. I put down my papaya, turned, and lifted my leg. “And don’t they look great with these socks?!” She laughed, she cackled, she smiled. Rafael poked his head out of his room, “But in all seriousness, they look good,” he beamed.