Muchacha!

Today is my last day at my site since tomorrow is a holiday. We brought another 300 piece puzzle for the kids, this time knights on horses. We started out with coloring at Rayito de Luz today. The volunteers got very engrossed in their pictures and the kids loved showing us theirs as well. Some were beautiful, random scribbles here and there, while others were very accurate according to the image they chose.

After a little while, I brought out the puzzle. Kids rushed over and I had some of the same problems as yesterday. I don't know what it is but children love picking up puzzle pieces and throwing them. It also makes me cringe when kids force puzzle pieces together that obviously don't fit. What do they think? "Maybe if I push a little bit harder?" Luckily, most kids lost interest except for the ones who were really good at puzzles. We worked and worked, but this was a hard puzzles. Many pieces could've gone in so many different places. But we had a great time and worked on it for a while. One little boy chose a specific section to work on. Every time he would find a piece, "MUCHACHA!" And would point to the piece. "Muy bien! Perfecto!"

Unfortunately, the two kids who were really into the puzzle lost interest once everyone went outside. I didn't feel it was appropriate for me to stay and keep working on it, even though I felt incomplete. I hesitantly walked away and headed outside. Everyone was eating a nice rice pudding snack and we ran around for a while. All I could hear was "Muchacha" this, and "Muchacha" that. Muchacha is the term the kids use to speak to the volunteers who are women. It literally just means "girl". I swear. If I get called a "muchacha" one more time... especially for the amount of times I told everyone my name...

At about 3:30, it was time for us all to say goodbye. We explained to the kids and the women who run the shelter, "the Tias", that we were all headed home. It was a sad goodbye and we would all miss each other. But I did feel like it was a good amount of time to work there. It was enough time to get to know the kids, but not enough that I felt bored with my placement, like I wanted to do something else.

We headed back to Maximo Nivel, the main office for volunteers, and me and one of the volunteers, Sarah, decided to head out and get some dinner. One of my friends told me about a great cafe, so we headed over and got some food. It was extremely delicious, and the restaurant was a cute little hole-in-the-wall place. Sarah goes to school in Boston, and she is headed back home tomorrow. We had a lot of fun eating and chatting, and turns out we have a lot of things in common, especially our taste in food.

When we were finished, we wanted to catch the bus together since we live in the same neighborhood. However, because of the holiday tomorrow, the buses were slow and not running the way we needed them to. Tomorrow is Virgin of Los Angeles Day, which is the time when many people have started walk to Cartago's Los Angeles Basilica to pay honor to La Negrita, Costa Rica's black Virgin. The streets were crowded with people all walking the same way. It was quite a site.

Sarah and I caught a cab together and she got dropped off first. I then showed the driver my address and he headed off. A few blocks later, he stopped and asked another driver for directions. He headed off and I started to recognize the area. A bit before my turn, there is a fork in the road. He stops there and asks me which way to go (mind you, he doesn't speak any english). I point to the right and he tells me, "Oh no, Santa Marta (my neighborhood) is to the left." I was pretty sure it was to the right but stayed firm and went to the left. We drove for a while and this whole time, I'm thinking, "It was to the right, I just know it." Eventually, he pulls up to Chicago Bar, the bar my host family owns. "No way. Otra de taxi." This man was kicking me out of his taxi because he didn't know where to go. Not only that, but he still insisted I pay him. I didn't want to argue with a language barrier or because of the fact that I was alone, so I payed and got in another taxi. He knew exactly where to go and took me straight there.

I was so happy to be home, I wasn't even that upset about my double cab ride. That didn't stop Diego, my host father, from being mad though. "Estupido!" Diego is probably one of my favorite people ever. One day, while we were eating, he says to me, "Claire! I'm a DJ!" He brings me out to the garage and shows me all his equipment. I told him about how impressed I was that he was a DJ and owned a bar. He then proudly said to me, "And I'm an attorny." I don't get to see Diego very much but when I do, he always points to me and says, "I love you." "No, I love you!" "I love you first." I am definitely going to miss Diego and Ivannia when I leave. They were the perfect host family for me: relaxed, yet loving.