Costa Rica Unplugged: Day 6, Part 2-- Don't Walk, Dance

Unlike our 90-degree Thanksgiving Day-in-L.A. weather, Costa Rica had constant rain.

On our sixth day there, the clouds stopped crashing into each other and causing downpours around 1pm, just in time for us to head into town and visit an elementary school. I hate admitting it but since I am an educator, I was interested in comparing a Central American school to all I knew of my own education and career in the States. Plus, I was excited to see the promised traditional Costa Rican dances that the children were going to perform. I wanted to see how similar they were to the Mexican dances I studied and took part in during my college years. 

Finally enough clearing to view Volcan Arenal on our way to the lobby.

The students were eagerly awaiting us in customary folklore attire. As we descended the bus, a child took two of us in each hand and guided us to their computer lab. During our short walk, they introduced themselves and asked our names. I asked my little guide, a wild girl whose name I've now forgotten, what grade she was in and she said fourth. 

A very friendly welcome.

Computers were aligned along the perimeter of the classroom with chairs facing towards the center for us to use. Then, a teacher introduced all of the children and they came around for a meet and greet.  

We were impressed with the level of professionalism the children had demonstrated thus far. They were organized, cordial, and welcoming. My students can probably run the class on their own already but they're so messy and talkative. Even if I warn my students that district people are coming to visit, all I end up doing is classroom management instead of a lesson. The kid's teacher snapped back to the present when she described the first dance. Then the children began their number barefooted. 

The wild girl didn't perform in the beginning. Instead, she sat at the teacher's desk banging pencils to the beat of the music. Then, she accidentally turned the stereo off. The instructor turned it back on and the kids started the performance all over again.

During the middle of the dance, a young man walked into the room and sat on the floor with the rest of the kids. He appeared to be in his late teens and reminded me completely of a former student of mine. The kids seemed to know him-- perhaps he was the custodian-- and they started playing together as if they were all 9 years old. I looked at the teacher, waiting for her to put a stop to the rowdiness occurring behind the kids owning the floor. The woman in charge did not seem fazed. But I was. I didn't know if the man-boy suffered from a condition that delayed him mentally, if he just got along really well with the children, or he if he had other intentions.

The time finally came for us to join in the fun. The teacher explained how the next dance worked, and in simplified terms, it resembled musical chairs. Everyone danced in a circle while holding hands. When the music stopped, you had to pair up. Whoever was left without a partner had to dance with a broom. Jackie and I were some of the ones chosen to participate and without fail, she was the first one to have to dance with the sweeping device.

After a couple of rounds of the broom dance, our tour guide turned the event into a Q&A session. The students were allowed to ask us anything. They asked where we came from and what we did for a living. Then we turned it around and asked them what they wanted to be when they grew up. We heard responses never before uttered by U.S. children, I bet. Some mentioned typical answers, like policemen, lawyers, and teachers. But others left our mouths agape when they said tour guides, zoologists, and my favorite, ecologists. Children there are so aware of their country and the importance of caring for it. Trashcans are found everywhere in very public areas for paper, glass, and plastic. A lot of business use renewable energy to power the water supply amongst other sources and animals are free to roam their natural habitats because people have no desire to turn forests into suburbs or cities. 

My students don't even know how to keep their desks clean, much less conserve our planet for their future! I accept partial responsibility for their lack of knowledge and understanding when it comes to preserving nature. My job requires me to focus on standards and everything else gets tossed aside. But sitting in that classroom made me realize that we teachers have a lot of work to do. Using both sides of the chart paper even though the markers have bled through isn't enough awareness. 

Feeling like a failure, the kids then escorted us two by two again to the patio area. There, moms and volunteers were selling crafts. Being the cheapskate that I am, I ventured off to take a sneak peek of the classrooms nearby. 

The classrooms had no windows or doors; the natural air was their sole method of ventilation. They lacked student work and reference posters on the walls which made for a much preferred clean look. The desks were pushed to the sides and I wondered if the kids did that daily. Also, if they swept and mopped everyday since it rained frequently. 

It was then time leave. The students led us out one last time. Since our shuttle was waiting at the next stop, we boarded a large wagon. The wild girl and the man-child were chasing each other making 8's around parked cars. We panicked when the adult kid hopped in the tractor connected to our wagon. I wondered if he was licensed to operate a motored vehicle but who could I ask? My tour group shot panicked looks at each other like pool table balls as the children waved goodbye.