Our last night in San Jose, I was in our hostel dorm room when one of our dorm mates walked in, exhausted. She had told us the day before that she was living in San Jose for a month, volunteering at a shelter for previous prostitutes and their children in one of the poorer neighborhoods. I asked her how her day was and she replied, “It was good, but the kids demand a lot of energy from me. I’m just going to rest for a bit and then I have to go back at 7. You can come with me if you want.”
And that’s how the most amazing night in San Jose began. We left at 7, in a hurry to catch the bus, and introduced ourselves along the way. Her name was Amanda, she was from Spain, and she works ten months of the year and then travels for three, always volunteering for one of those three. She explained that the place we were going to was in one of the poorer neighborhoods, and that the organization she was volunteering for had been working to collect 25,000 gifts in time for Christmas. We were going to be packing the gifts, and then later there would be a church service in celebration.
When we got off the bus, Amanda was immediately swarmed by half a dozen kids. “Hola mi amor!!” she would say. She had only been in San Jose for 2 weeks, but it was clear that everybody at this place already adored her. And soon Jasmine and I could see why. She had turned into a determined, bustling woman who had an incredible leadership talent- she could get anyone excited about anything, and seemed to practically run the place. Jasmine and I were dawned with red smocks, and were put to work stuffing bears into bags for babies. Box after box of bears, the stack was daunting. But we were introduced to some other volunteers and had fun chit chatting and practicing our Spanish. After maybe an hour of stuffing bags, Amanda handed us each a pear and we were rushed over to the church, where the service was starting.
When we walked in, everybody was already kneeling in prayer, and we were pushed to the middle of the isle. I tapped Amanda on the shoulder and whispered, “Are we allowed to eat in here?” she looked down at the pear in her hands and then at mine and said, “Probably not. Hurry! Eat!” So Jasmine and I knelt down to look like we were praying and I felt like a chipmunk trying to hurry and eat my pear. Hardly anytime had passed before the congregation stood up and started singing. Jasmine and I just followed the crowd of volunteers, and a few of the donated gifts were handed to us to place at the alter. We set down the gifts, and were moved to the front row of the church. The entire congregation was singing in celebration, dancing and smiling. We sang song after song and danced dance after dance. I had always thought that following a Catholic service in English was hard. Try following a Catholic service in Spanish with synchronized dance moves! And of course we stuck out like sore thumbs anyway- we were the only Gringos, we standing in the front and towering over everyone, I have bright blonde hair, and we were trying to sing and pray in Spanish while dancing. It was loud and happy chaos. I’m pretty sure I saw the priest look over and chuckle.
It didn’t matter much that we couldn’t sing or dance; we were having an amazing time. At one point Jasmine turned to me and yelled, “WE’RE AT SOME CHURCH IN SAN JOSE….. AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT WE’RE DOING, BUT THIS IS FUN!!” The priest led the congregation in his raspy voice, singing Christmas carols and songs of praise. The music was upbeat and everyone was so incredible grateful and happy. It was truly an amazing feeling just to be caught up in such positive energy.
After about a million songs, the tone changed. The lights were turned off, the music slowed down, and the priest began to speak. I was having trouble concentrating on what the priest was saying (partly because I was tired and partly because I was too busy trying to get pear peel out of my teeth), but the energy went from grateful for the donations to grateful for being forgiven. It all happened so fast. People began really singing with their souls, and started crying. Some were laying on the floor, heads down and crying. There was always somebody at their side, rubbing their backs to console them. They cried and cried, praying, reaching for the cross and then kissing their hands. One girl got so worked up that she fainted at my feet. For about an hour this went on. Sobbing for sins. It was intense, but you could tell that these people just needed to let it out and be refreshed. A plume of frankincense filled the sanctuary and it was soon over. It was quite an amazing cultural experience.
We walked back to the warehouse, where we continued stuffing bags with the people who had literally just been lying on the floor in tears only minutes before. But they were now refreshed and happy, and ready to work. We worked for a couple more hours, and finally, exhausted, we returned to the hostel, feeling as though we had a secret treasure. It had been a night of seeing a side of Costa Rica that not many tourists get to see, and undoubtedly the best night ever. A perfect ending.
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It was strange saying good-bye to Costa Rica after 6 weeks, but we’re now in Bogota, Colombia, and loving it. This place is awesome.
Merry Christmas, Arianna! And Merry Christmas to Jasmine! We will be thinking of you during this special season. It seems strange to not have you and Maren here to help with the Swedish Meatballs and Krumkake. In fact, we have invited the Interim Minister and his wife over for dinner on Christmas Day. I told them that I have always had 2 sons or 2 granddaughters to help with the Swedish Meatballs and Krumkake, so they are coming as substitute kids, so don’t dress fancy. They loved the idea and they are the type that will enjoy the activity.
We are so anxious to read about your new adventures in Colombia! Much love to you and again, Merry Christmas!
Wow, Arianna, what a great story. That was worth the wait! I wonder if we can do a service like that at Countryside … ?
Will you be able to call or (better) Skype on Christmas Day?
Love,
Dad
yup! i have internet here, so we can skype anytime!
Merry Christmas to you and those who share your life, Arianna. May 2010 treat you well and gently. With Love, Faith and Ken C.
Hi Arianna, For Christmas I ordered a Jane Goodall book for Maren and somehow managed to end up with 2 of them, so I kept one for myself. In Jane’s experiences growing up I am often reminded of you. As a teen-aged girl she went through the awful bombing in London during World War II which was tramatizing, but as she became involved in living life after that she made some observations that I suspect you would identify with.
“. . . taught me a great deal about human resilience, both physical and mental; and made me appreciate my own extraordinarily healthy body. I know how lucky I am, and I do not, not ever, take it for granted.” She also wrote a poem to attempt to describe her own constantly evolving personal beliefs about God and the universe. Here’s the one I love.
THE OLD WISDOM, by Jane Goodall
When the night wind makes the pine trees creak
And the pale clouds glide across the dark sky,
Go out, my child, go out and seek
Your soul: The Eternal I.
For all the grasses rustling at your feet
And ever flaming star that glitters high
Above you, close up and meet
In you: the Eternal I.
Yes, my child, go out into the world; walk slow
And silent, comprehending all, and by and by
Your soul, the Universe, will know
Itself: The Eternal I.
Jane also regrets that she did not journal her experiences as a young woman. So again, I am so thrill that you are doing so in this blog. You will treasure re-reading your experiences many times over the years.
Much love to you, from Grandma and Grandpa Elnes
thanks, grandma! love you!