A Better Explanation

Hopefully my last post didn’t make it sound like I was having a bad time down here! I heard back from a few of you who thought that might be the case. I wouldn’t say I’m having the time of my life yet, but it’s definitely been a lot of fun – and, more importantly, a very new and interesting experience. I’m still working on the Spanish thing, and I bought a pocket-size English-Spanish Practical Conversation Guide yesterday. I’ve found that I’m getting okay at asking the important questions, but that I never have any luck in understanding the responses people give me. It’s a work in progress and I’ll just hope it gets a little better each day!

On Friday, I tried to upload a blog description so that you all have a better idea of what I’m doing down here. It didn’t work, though, so I’ll dedicate this post to a better explanation. I didn’t really have a clue what I’d be doing until this past week was over, so I never had a very good answer for anybody who asked about it. I’m still not 100% sure, but I have a much better idea than when I arrived! To be clear, I’m not teaching English to Costa Rican children at an orphanage or anything like that. Lots of people assumed that’s the sort of thing this was when they heard the word “peace.” The University for Peace is really just a graduate school for peace-related disciplines. In case that’s still too vague, here are some examples of degrees you can earn at the university: International Law and Human Rights; Media, Peace & Conflict Studies; Responsible Management and Sustainable Economic Development; Gender and Peacebuilding; and Natural Resources and Sustainable Development. Most students leave the school with the hopes of having some tangible impact on the direction of their countries and/or the world. They’ve been pretty successful in that regard, and alumni have become policymakers, diplomats, journalists, professors, members of NGOs and the United Nations, and entrepreneurs.

In this year’s graduating class, there were 175 students from 51 different countries – which is pretty incredible. Last week, I sat in on a discussion about the importance of inter-faith dialogue. The classroom had no more than 30 people in it, but there were students and professors from the Democratic Republic of Congo, Rwanda, Tanzania, Uganda, Zambia, China, Germany, France, Burundi, Egypt, and the United States. On a bus ride back from UPEACE on Friday, I spoke to a Rwandan student about the current state of his country, and we discussed some of the reasons why Rwanda has made such an unprecedented recovery from its 1994 genocide. It’s really a cool place and I doubt there’s another one like it in the world. I’m extremely lucky to have the opportunity to be taking this all in.

My personal responsibilities at UPEACE are not fully defined yet. So far, I’ve been doing more office work than anything else – scanning documents, entering grades into the University's system, etc. But in a couple of weeks, we’ll be hosting students from UC-Berkeley for a five-week course on human security and peacebuilding. Then there will be a group of students from Loyola Law School in LA, followed by another from Western Washington University. I’ll be helping out with the logistics for all of these programs and, hopefully, I’ll have the chance to sit in on as many courses and lectures as possible. There seems to be a lot of flexibility in my job, so I’m expecting to have helped with a wide variety of tasks before I come back in August.

This post is already pretty long, so I’ll share some funny stories in the next one. And I’ll be sure to update you all on the internship as I learn more about it. For now, I’m off to bed so that I can get a run in before work. ¡Buenas noches!

Companionship through Isolation

          On my flight to Costa Rica, I was reminded of the time when, while attempting my very first Elementary Spanish assignment, I mistook the Spanish word “llamas” for the plural form of the English word "llama," denoting the South American camelid bred largely for its wool (not its skills in magic).  I remembered being totally confused, finding no relevance at all between this peculiar animal and my workbook exercise; and, eventually, I resorted to calling my younger sister, who had studied Spanish for several years in high school.  Her response was helpful but humiliating.  “Llamas,” she explained, a Spanish conjugation of the reflexive verb “llamarse,” meaning “to be called,” is actually pronounced “yah-mahs” – not “lah-muz.”  My foolish mistake was the result of a failure to link the double-L to the “yah” sound.  I had never studied the language before and, consequently, I had no knowledge of this very basic linguistic nuance.  Since then, my family has loved giving me a hard time about this embarrassing misstep.

          I smiled at this anecdote while I flew over the southeastern United States, convincing myself that I was nearly a Spanish expert compared to those days.  How wrong I was!  Just over 48 hours into my summer in Ciudad Colón, I can’t help but feel as though I’ve jumped into the deep end without any ability at all to swim.  I’ve been utterly unsuccessful in understanding the native Costa Ricans (the “ticos,” as they are called), and my own attempts at communicating in Spanish have been dismal at best.  Luckily, there are enough English-speakers that I have not been forced into complete, monastic silence; but the experience so far has been extremely isolating.  My personality, I have realized, relies almost entirely on my capacity to talk, to joke, and to engage with others.  So far, I have not been able to do any of these things on any meaningful level.  And, accordingly, my first few days have been a bit demoralizing.

          But, today, I noticed an uplifting paradox in these circumstances: through isolation, I have found companionship.  Christer Persson, a Swedish professor of International Law and Human Rights at UPEACE, genuinely offered me his help this morning and assured me that he knew firsthand what it was like to be young and alone in a foreign place.  Last night, at the university’s commencement, I met a man from Alabama who told me that he, too, had traveled to Latin America some years ago without any knowledge of Spanish; learning it that way, he insisted, was the best way to do it.  Finally, this afternoon, I had coffee with Elena García, a UPEACE intern from Spain, who recounted her experiences of learning English while living in London.  She promised to assist me in mastering Spanish by refusing to talk to me in English, and she very generously bore with me through a laborious twenty-minute attempt at a Spanish conversation.  Certainly not the most painless strategy, but I think it’s what I need!

          I will keep these three encounters in mind as the days and weeks transpire.  Indeed, my cultural isolation is not an unusual plight – no matter how much it has felt like it thus far.  Many millions have done it before me and many millions will continue to do so in the future.  All who endure this isolation will find companionship through others who have treaded similar paths – immigrants, exchange students, travelers.  This companionship is quite unique, as it is contingent on a particular set of experiences, disappointments, exclusions, and difficulties.  Those who manage this isolation seem to have a special bond – a bond that is unknown to those who never leave the comforts of their familiar cohorts.

          More than anything else, these first few days have taught me to believe that all isolation has the potential to generate some valuable form of companionship.  At least this is what I’ll tell myself until I can actually speak Spanish!