Monopoly.

I took a video of this little boy and I playing Monopoly. I think it pretty much sums up my relationship with him. And it made me realize just how often I say the word 'verdad.' Oops. Guess I need to expand my vocabulary. :)

Ps. If you would like to receive a newsletter to read about what else I'm doing (other than playing Monopoly) please send your email adress to lizm_10@hotmail.com. God bless :)

My life goal...

Food.

Last week I made salsa. In San Jose I struck lucky and had the good fortune of meeting a Mexican who was more than willing to share a salsa recipe with me. I have been missing spicy Mexican food ever since I left Mexico (way back in April.) And so I found myself bitten by the "cooking-bug." In Costa Rica, the typical food has more of a sweet taste and I was appalled to find out that for the most part, they don't like spicy food! Blasphemy to my ears! So Liz took a trip to the local grocer and paid far to much for a pack of Jalapeños in order to appease her jonesing for a little kick in her "comida." In the United States we are blessed with the option to buy one Jalapeño at a time (usually the proper amount for any enjoyable food) if we so desire. This is not so in Costa Rica. For a salsa that called for one Jalapeño, I found myself buying ten. Well worth it. Off to the kitchen I went, not exactly sure of what I was up to. I pulled out a frying pan and plopped in a Jalapeño and a half. Although the recipe only called for one Jalapeño, I had used part of one the day before in my cooking and decided, "Why not add in an extra half? It needs to be used up anyway.... What can it hurt?" Perhaps too much spice is the reason people say "everything in moderation." But I proceeded to fry up my peppers. I was told to fry them up until blackened along with a tomato. I put a tomato in the pan and immediately thought to myself, "What on earth are you doing?" It did not put my mind at ease when the tomato started to hiss. Frying tomatoes is not necessarily a normal custom back home in the U.S. and for that reason I began to doubt my super chef skills. Plus, it's very difficult to blacken a tomato that only wants to roll around the pan. But carry on I did, ever wondering if the tomato would stop hissing or if it would blow up in my face. It did. (Just kidding.) I began to think what other fruits do you fry? Isn't that just a bit odd? I realized that I eat fried fruit almost every week. Make that deep fried fruit. Rice and beans are the staple diet here in Costa Rica (probably in every other Latin American country as well.) And with those rice and beans deep fried plantains are the norm. I'm not sure if I had ever really eaten a plantain prior to living here, and now I eat them regularly. And though it may seem a bit strange to you that we deep fry our plantains, it's actually quite tasty and helps keep the rice and beans from getting too boring. And so I fried up the tomato and Jalapeño and a half until I could stand it no more and put them onto a plate for a bit of dissection. You see that even though I was supposed to blacken my ingredients, the next step of the recipe called that I peel off the blacked areas. Interesting. I attempted to do so with burning myself although my lack of patience would not hear of it. After this was said and done... into the blender they went with a bit of onion and a clove of garlic. I pushed blend until my creation had turned into a hideous shade of dark olive green. I thought, "Oh dear, what have I done?!" I opened the lid and decided to take a whiff to see if it would be any good. My sinuses have never been so clear in my life. With one little sniff I was sent into a coughing spree. I could tell that it was going to be good salsa. I dipped a finger in just to try a little bit. Daring of me I know. With one little taste my tongue was sent into a full on blaze and I could hear myself screaming in my head, "WHY did you add that EXTRA half a Jalapeño?!?!!" I had done it. I had succeeded making a very spicy salsa. My craving for spicy food? Satisfied. And the salsa? After sharing it and giving much of it away.... there is still some left in my fridge being slowing eaten up one teaspoon at a time because that's about as much as I can stand.

Using your gifts.

I think it was last Friday. It was about two o’clock and we had just opened the ramp. I was in my house taking my last few swallows of very old coffee before I ventured out to brave the jungle of wild children that I knew awaited me. I was chit chatting with Leslie and Lisa when the sound of a very loud, “HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” came ringing through the air. And whose voice might it be you ask? It was little David and he knew that he was not supposed to be that far back in the rancho. Lisa jumped up to see what exactly it was that he was up to when he shouted up to her, “NO! The OTHER one!” You see, I am often referred to as “the other one.” These days, Lisa and I are fairly interchangeable and our names are very similar (especially with Spanish pronunciation.)  And so I took a step outside to see what he wanted. Wide-eyed and grinning ear to ear he told me, “I brought you a gift!” "You brought me a gift?” I asked. “Yes! Come see!” he said and in his hand was a bag. Are you familiar with those “go green” bags? You know the recyclable grocery bags with witty sayings? He had one of those and waited as I discovered what was inside. He had brought me a little white teddy bear about the size of my palm. As if that wasn’t sweet enough, the recycle bag was also part of my gift. He pointed to each word on the bag and read to me what was printed on it, “I want a better world."I gave him a BIG hug and we walked around the ramp showing some people my new gift before I went inside to put my bear on display.

Let me tell you a little bit about David. Although he is only nine, his feet are bigger than mine. And although his feet are bigger than mine, his shoes are smaller than mine. When I asked him about it he told me that he has to walk with his toes bent and that it hurts his feet. That's probably why he always walks around the rancho barefoot. He wears the same short almost every day. They are full of holes. When he is not spending time at the ramp, he sits outside one of the super markets begging people for money or food. Although David is nine he has a very difficult time controlling his emotions and relating to other children.  He is often on the brink of crisis. He would fight and cry and throw inconsolable fits when he first started coming to the ramp. Turns out though, it got better. It gets better. For the most part, these days, David behaves himself pretty well. We have discovered that David can control himself and have be and be fun IF he has a “buddy.” What this means is that between the three workers at the ramp one of them commits to being David’s buddy for the day. If David has someone to watch him, play with him, and encourage him, he behaves and enjoys himself. And so David has become my little friend. I’m not always his “buddy.” Sometimes we switch on and off on buddy-patrol. But either way, David loves me and brought me a little bear and a bag. You ought to see this sad little bear. It's a little white puff ball clutching little white and red flowers between it's paws. There's a stain right between it's beady little eyes. The best part is, there's glue marks on it's back and bottom. He clearly pulled it off a greeting card or a bouquet of flowers. I have no idea where he got it, or how, but I love it. What a blessing and encouragement it was for me to receive that bear. It's reassurance that me being here is actually doing some good and an inspiration to be a better buddy. 

The Karate Kid in all of us.

When I was a kid one of my favorite things to do was wrestle with my dad. I always won too. I remember one time in elementary school I was telling my friend Josh how strong I was because I always won when I wrestled with my dad. I didn't believe him when he told me that my dad was probably just letting me win. We are blessed to have fond childhood memories. We are entitled to them. Childhood should be filled with loving memories of times spent with our parents. But for some kids it isn't. Some kids don't get to pretend they're the Karate Kid and try out their new moves on their poor defenseless dad. But fortunately for the children at risk in Jaco, Costa Rica, there's a Scott Freeman to be a surrogate punching bag (and I mean that in the best way possible.) This afternoon I had the priveledge to watch four kids beat up my "boss" Scott Freeman. Usually I freak out when there's fighting at the ramp, but for today, it was okay. I'm not sure how it started, but it was a lot of fun to watch. I watched four young boys gang up and take on Scott. You should have seen their faces light up with every swing and kick. What a blessing it was for those four little boys to be able to play and goof off with a male role model. I was blessed by just watching this scene. I wish that every kid had that kind of opportunity. Can you imagine the world if every child had a dad or a Scott in their lives?

Shortly after the sparring session, a water fight broke out. Hoses, plastic cups, pans, and buckets were involved. I had so much fun. The kids had so much fun. By the end of the battle, it looked like a thunder storm had decided only to visit our little property. Water was everywhere and everyone was soaked. You cannot schedule that kind of joy. You cannot plan for that kind of spontaneous, crazy joy. It comes naturally from relationship. It comes from playing monopoly and coloring with kids for hours on end until they trust you and love you enough to dump a bucket of water all over your head. They can splash and soak you and know that they are loved. They know that they are loved and they expect to be splashed right back. So we finished off our day wet and happy with our love tanks filled to the brim, and it looked a little something like this.

Shall we color?

Coloring with a new friend!

She even drew a picture of me! Crown and all!