The Corobici etc.

So.  The past two weeks or so have been kind of whirlwind.  Understatement – the past two weeks have been a hurricane of information and demands both work-related and personal.  Today felt like the first time I had to breathe and...if I'm being honest...the first time that things seemed to just click.  A friend texted me yesterday to say, ''Huh, upon coming home, I actually feel like a real volunteer now.''  And I texted back, ''I think it's because this time we are not so bewildered by everything that we forget how capable we are.''

I'm not sure if he agrees with me because he never texted me back.  But I'm going to run with it because I think it's absolutely true.  So bear with me while I talk about training because I swear I'll come back to the great realization that we're legitimate volunteers.

It's true that during In Service Training all the volunteers had pretty sweet accommodations at the Crowne Plaza in San Jose.  But if I didn't get to snuggle down at night into white downy comforters that kept out the chill from the air conditioning unit, IST could have been really bad instead of just...overwhelming.  The first three days were a workshop to which we were asked to bring a community counterpart.  I brought my host sister which turned out to be a good choice.  Some volunteers didn't have as much confidence interacting with their counterparts, I noticed.  Bummer.  We make a good team, though, so I was happy.  The week after that was dedicated to further technical and language training.  That was all kind of a blur until I checked my email today and saw all the documents that backed up the sessions.  Then I was like, ''Oh yeah, ok, I remember listening to this.''

Then I got robbed with some broken glass and lost my camera.  Dammit.

Ok, but then a bunch of the Rural Community Development volunteers went to Quepos/Manuel Antonio.  This is a national forest/beach with a pretty decent town on a harbor.  It's absolutely beautiful and (shhh!  I'm about to be unfaithful to my adopted regional identity) I'd prefer it any day to the beaches of Guanacaste.  Too bad I didn't have a camera or I'd post some photos.  But is anyone familiar with the verse about nature and alcohol from the song Big Rock Candy Mountain?  It can give you a mental picture of what it was like.  I'll give it a go...

In the big rock candy mountains

you never change your socks

and the little streams of alcohol

come a-trickling down the rocks.

I'm just saying, it sounds like a parallel experience.  Magical, verdant mountains, no clean clothes and never ending rum.

Ok, so how does this transform the perception I have of myself into a ''real'' volunteer...I'll tell you: It was good to detox (erm, or maybe ''tox'' just a little) after IST and absorb some rays.  It was probably the first thing I'd label as a vacation since I got here.  And then, because it felt like vacation, I went back to work at the end of it.  Getting into my town I realized that I finally feel like I have something to offer.  That IST didn't just numb my brain and make me crave the shoreline, that I really took away solid information and built some of the skills I was needing.

And when I got back to town, I really thought, ''Que dicha, I'm home.''  I'm not starting from square one and I know this town better than any other person who wasn't born within a five mile radius of it.  Also, I learned some pretty sweet things I can do to um...well, to do my job.  I reviewed the RCD project goals and thought...wow.  Everything that I've talked about with my town about what we can do fits under these goals, which is a great sign, right?  So I gotta get crackin' because I've only got so much time left.  The magical transformation I was waiting for didn't feel magical, it felt like someone constantly squeezing my brain every day for ten days.  Correction: every day for six months.  But it happened.  I'm confident now that if I apply myself, cool things can happen in conjunction with my community member's interest and participation.

Not that I'll never have doubts about my own abilities again, but I have stopped feeling lost and stopped asking myself what I'm supposed to be doing here.