On Culture and Clippers

Back at work.  The weekend over, reality restored, my students re-launched, if a bit sunburned!

Aaron - in pain!

Our morning session went well, and quickly, at the University classroom.  Design solutions are rapidly being refined, the estimates sharpened with every bit of new information, our work plan evolving, and our proposals started.  Sarah will have her hands full in the translation department, but we are doing everything to advance work early enough for her not to be overloaded - translation, I have discovered, is a more complicated task involved as much in understand meaning and intent rather than just replacing English diction with Spanish.  Call it new appreciation - she is a trooper!

We returned for a sumptuous lunch at the hostel, posed for our official group photo in front of the hostel, and then each student/team went about their work, leaving me time for exploration of a different sort.

L to R: Crystal (of Oshkosh), me, Peter, John, Ann-Marie, Paul, Tayler, Sarah, Amy, Aaron,
Travis, Jack, Carrie, Jordan, Bobby and Beverly (of Maryland)

Our college is commencing another applied degree in Health Services Management. Taking my Learning Abroad experience with the Construction Management program and translating that to another discipline brought Sarah, Crystal, Beverly, Dustin and me to the nursing home - Hogar de Ancianos.  An imposing structure from the street corner, this facility looks more like a prison with high stone retaining walls topped by coils of razor wire.  Past the heavy steel gate we were greeted by the Board President, Myra, who described the center, A different impression emerged on our tour than from the street corner - one of single story wings of rooms, dining rooms, TV rooms, and the usual support facilities. And sitting in relative quiet were the residents, usually in wheelchairs. Unable to attend memory care patients, the 50-55 beds serve a traditional audience of senior citizens. Graced with plenty of open air spaces, greenery, friendly staff, and a lime orchard, the sense of the place belied the hard, imposing exterior.

However, things are changing culturally.  Traditionally, Costa Rican families were large - ten+ kids - and when the grandparents were in their declining years, they were "passed around" and cared for by the children.  Yet today, birth rates have fallen dramatically, which means more pressure on the nursing homes to care for the aged.  So Hogar struggles to determine how to accommodate growth, both physically and financially.  Perhaps there is a place here for our students in the future, a few years from now.

I couldn't help think about Dad whilst walking around and seeing these older folks in decline.  It reminded me of how long I have been away from home this past month, and frankly, I was getting a bit shaggy.  So I wandered over to a barber shop used by Dustin to get a badly needed haircut.  Now this is a tiny shop - a single office type chair centered in a space perhaps 5 or 6 feet wide, by a like depth, open to the sidewalk with a wooden bench for waiting, and a large mirror to trick the eye on the size of this diminutive space.  When I arrived, three men were ahead of me, so I waited and contemplated how I would transact my business, having steadfastly practiced "quisiera cortar mi pelo?" (can you cut my hair?), but not really certain of my response if the barber rattled on as to specifications, settling thus on merely the use of fingers to communicate length.

Now within this shop, or closet - the Brayza Salon Profesional - it became suddenly clear to me why men were awaiting her services.  This barber has a simple operation - clipper combs of various colors representing depth, a few scissors, combs and some potion she applies to the finished scalp - tools of her trade.  Likely more compelling to the waiting patrons was her attractive appearance graced with tightly bound shiny black hair, a tight fitting azure dress and close fitting black top, very high heels, and a turquoise necklace that often lay horizontally atop her ample, and amply supported, bosom nearly bursting forth from her low cut neckline.  Within 15 minutes she was done - $2.78!  I paid her a 25% tip for including my beard.  My weightloss de-shag now complete!

As Dustin and Beverly had stopped by whilst on the chair, and of course shot the photo above, we proceeded to the Colombian "soda" (a small fixed menu cafe) owned by "Salsa David's" family - the site of our upcoming celebrando on Friday - to decide a menu and discuss size/table arrangements. And there is no better way to determine the menu then to be served a plate of platanos with four different salsas, prepared by David's very animated mother and sister.  Accompanying this tasting plate was a Columbian drink of juice and beer. A lively discussion, a few platanos, perhaps a few too many sips of the drink concoction, and we were sold!

I was smiling while walking back to the hostel in the warm late afternoon sunshine, gunk in my trimmed hair, Colombian tasties in my belly, thinking that Dad would have enjoyed these same simple pleasures.