Classroom Costa Rica

When we in America thought of home stays in a different country, we started thinking “Oh! This will really help me in my studies of this language. Well, maybe after spending enough time there I will be able to pick up some simple words.”
But really,  home stays aren’t helping just us. What if the people that you are taking up residence with know only a limited amount of English? We don’t think of that side of the story much do we? At least not here in the States. We automatically assume that everywhere we go people will know English. After all we’re always hearing that English is spreading widely and quickly. Why wouldn’t these people speak English? Maybe because they don’t know it. I made the mistake of assuming that at least one person in the household would speak some, if not fluent, English. There are schools in Costa Rica, like the Monteverde Friends School, that focus on English as a part of the curriculum. When we were there for the soccer game, we encountered this little eight-year-old named Francis and he was speaking almost fluent English to us! They must really do good work there. A little boy, nearing nine spoke English as his second language almost perfectly, compare this to us, who with several years of Spanish study, still don’t speak it as fluently as Francis spoke English.
Of course that experience only made me more sure that the kids at my home stay would know English. I was wrong. We arrived at the home stay to find that none of the family could speak English. Only one kid had studied English and it was only his first year so he wasn’t fluent at all. That kind of jolted me. So now communication was up to the Spanish that we knew and an everlasting game of charades.
I know that my home stay group had a little bit of trouble, but we found ways to communicate. For example, while we were waiting for dinner, we took out a deck of cards and started to play blackjack. Mandy, Robin, and I then realized that Eric and Jasmine, the kids at our home stay, might not know how to play. So we spent about ten minutes trying to explain that the closer to twenty-one your cards are then the better it is. We explained the value of each face card in  choppy Spanish. We hit a snag when I realized that I didn’t know how to say above and below. As I mentioned before, when you don’t know the word, its time for charades. So I held up my hand, pointed to it and said, “viente-uno” twenty-one. Then with my other hand I pointed under the “twenty-one” hand and said “bien”, good, and then above the hand and tried to show the word “out”. I made a fist with a thumbs up and then sent it back over my shoulder and kept saying “out” hoping they would understand. By the time we were ready to play I was crossing my fingers hoping they would get it,  and they did.  After a few rounds, with a little more explaining in between, we decided to play a universal game, Chutes and Ladders.
It surprised me that this kid who was in the ninth grade was only just starting English. I mean after seeing what it was like at the Friends School I was really surprised. We heard maybe five words of English from this family the whole time we were there. Language is one of the biggest barriers between people. After the home stays we brought up the question, what if everyone spoke the same language? It doesn’t have to be English or Spanish. It could be Indonesian or Russian, but everyone would speak it. What do you think? If we all spoke one language it would be easier for everyone in these sorts of situations. No charades and no struggling to find the right words and feeling the heat creep over your cheeks when you realize that what you just said might not really be what you mean. It’s an interesting thing language, it really connects us to others who speak the same one. If we only knew one language, lets say English so we can all relate, it might make traveling easier, and homestays. But for those of us who enjoy learning languages and get a certain thrill from learning them it wouldn’t be as enjoyable, no other languages to learn. As the discussion continued we realized a couple of things. First, that by using only one language we would lose all cultural differences, and secondly, it wouldn’t stay just English for long. And all English is different now anyway. What about accents? Southern, New Jersey, Brooklyn,you name it there’s an accent! It’s definitly better that we have many languages in the world and not just one. But it’s times like these that you wish there was only one language. There’s a lesson in this isn’t there?
Learn your languages so you don’t end up playing charades all night long!

-Starcie

We all had a topic before we went to Costa Rica, and I chose frogs. At first frogs seemed like a pretty easy topic-frogs are suppose to be everywhere in Costa Rica. But I only saw one species of toad. It was big and lumpy and looked like it would go into a witches cauldron in a storybook. This was disappointing because while looking through book and surfing the Internet about rain forests  frogs was one of the major topics.
Frogs are such a popular image because they are so funky looking, with all their different colors and poisons that could kill you. But the truth is, most of the frogs live in the canopies of the cloud forest, and some of them never leave for their entire lives. So even though it was a little disappointing to only see this one kind of toad, it was not very likely at all to see anything else.
One thing that I should mention is the Golden Toad. In this case it wasn’t just an unfortunate discovery not to see one. Thanks to global warming they have gone extinct. The main reason they have gone extinct is because of a fungus that came when the weather started to get hotter. As they were dying off the frogs didn’t always find mates. So when they died they couldn’t leave offspring behind.
While working on our projects we were expected to have questions, and to translate them into Spanish. One of my questions was: do the local people need to be cautioned about poisonous frogs? At least twenty kinds of frogs in Central and South America have developed a deathly poison. Their alkaloid poisons are so toxic that they can paralyze a large bird or small monkey immediately. I wondered if parents might feel worried about their children playing outside. My view did change because the only frog-like thing that I saw was a brown toad, and the worst it could do to you is irritate your eyes.

-Ashleigh

Ever since I was a little boy I’ve wanted one super power. Out of every choice I wanted to fly. It just looked so cool. Well, now I know that it is. I had this experience when I went to the Selvatura Park Canopy Tour in Santa Elena, Costa Rica.

When I was getting all suited up in my harness and helmet, I was just thinking how fun it would be, then I thought, what if the cable snapped? I thought to myself that the zip line could not be in business if it wasn’t safe and that the teachers would never take us anywhere where we could get hurt. Then we learned the signs that I would receive throughout the course.

When I got up to the first platform I was completely spaced out. As the guide hooked me up to this wire I realized that this would be the closest experience to flying in all of my life. With a great smile I flew off the platform, not to fall but to glide through the air. I realized that this was the first time I would do this out of 15. I put on the brakes by pressing firmly on the top of the cable with the gloves (any type of friction on the line makes you stop). Right after I landed on the platform I was already in the air again, but going even faster. I hardly noticed that I had touched this platform way up in a tree and that I was switched to another cable leading to another platform. I was going really fast and nearing the end. The guide was looking right at me and not telling me to slow down or stop, so I didn’t. I was about to hit a tree when suddenly I was stopped by a special brake opperated by the guide. This time I was able to stand on the platform and watch about seven people come in and join me. It was so fun to see everyone’s facial expressions as they were stopped.

As I looked out on where I would go to next, I just saw sky and a line of cable. This track goes on for 650 meters (.4 miles) and you’re soaring about 100 feet over a 125 foot canopy. Now I would really get to fly! All I wanted was to stop in the middle of the track and just sit over the canopy. When I was flung off I just sort of hung there looking around me. It was so amazing. “It was awesome and went on forever.” (Liz) This was the most fun zip line in the whole course.

By the time I reached the other side I was again quickly brought from one side to another only to sail off again. I had not even been able to say how cool it was when I was back in the air. After two more cables, they sent you up this path that led to the Tarzan Swing.

As I reached the point where you could really see it, I looked up to the top only to see Audrey just looking out and then down in Awe. The tower that she was on was about 55 feet high and was very sturdy looking (I didn’t doubt the safety of anything). I yelled as many others who were there did. Audrey smiled and then looked like she was pushed from behind. Her stomach thrusted out and then she was falling and screaming. I soon realized that after asking if you’re ready, the guide opens up this gate and then pushes you really quickly. I watched a couple others go, but finally it was my turn. I was all ready. I knew that the guide would push me, so I jumped right as that gate opened. I started to fall thinking I would just hit the ground, but at the last second I swung out and up really smoothly. When I reached the peak I was in such amazement, just looking all around me realizing I can’t find any of this in Vermont. As I started to come back, I was so happy to be here, then the guides hit my feet to slow me down. I swung back and fourth a couple more times in such peace. Then I was done. I watched the rest of the class go. Some screamed the whole way, some had their eyes shut, some had their eyes wide open with a huge grin, and there were even nods of heads saying Ohh Myy GOD.

The Selvatura Park Canopy Tour was my favorite part of the whole trip and I realized that the zip line is not about the Cloud Forest at all–it’s about having fun and I did just that.
-Jackson

If you had a minor crisis on your hands, you would fix it, or at least try to, wouldn’t you? I certainly would, but I don’t think Costa Rica decided to attempt a fix. Why? Because maybe they can’t.

What is this minor crisis? Roads and cars and trucks and everything to do with them. According to the CIA webpage, Costa Rica has one of the highest vehicle accident rates in the world, and is the country with the highest vehicle accident mortality rate in the world. The rate is about twenty-four deaths for every 10,000 miles driven. That may seem relatively low, except the US has about eight deaths for every 10,000 miles driven. That means Costa Rica has about three times as many deaths related to cars than the US. This is due to the poorly kept roads. Roads are often very potholed, are made of loose, large gravel, have very steep grades, and sharp, snake-like turns. Also, the roads are narrow, and on the sides are heavily potholed ditches that are very deep and have a sharp, almost, “curb,” to them from years of water erosion. With another car coming, you have to pull over into the ditch. Gee, why are there so many deaths?

Some of the blame can be put on the drivers as well. Turn signals are a rare and exciting occasion, and road signs were only seen in large towns and cities where they are used very sparingly. This means that there are no established speed limits, thus drivers confidently whiz down the road. Also, it seems to me as if drivers in Costa Rica don’t care much for safety. One time, we were driving in the bus at maybe thirty to thirty-five miles per hour, when, suddenly, an overzealous motorcycler revved past going about forty-five. While the bus took up the entire road, the biker drove into the ditch to pass us. The ditch was a horribly potholed and dangerously rocky pass. He swerved and skidded, so he stuck his feet out to get balance. Hitting grass and pushing himself off the bus, he nearly got himself killed.

Another reason for a high death rate is that major roads and highways are often used as crossing lanes for cowboys and their cattle. Some things I could suggest? Put up road signs like, “Stop, Speed Limit, or Cattle Crossing.” They could establish a better driver safety program, put out some roadside guards or police to enforce laws, and, definitely fix the roads.

But maybe the Costa Rican government can’t afford those things. They might have better uses for money, like feeding their poor. Of course, they do get the money to put up big, fancy hotels, but then again, tourism is by far their biggest economy.

You want my solution? Here it is, there are hundreds of thousands of US tourists who go to Costa Rica every year. They are US Citizens. If the US has enough money to make all these nuclear weapons that we are NEVER GOING TO USE, why not ensure the safety of our citizens? I think the US should donate for better roads and better safety. I think we should keep our people safe, wherever they might go, rather than keep our people dying for worthless reasons in places like Iraq. HERE’S A PLACE TO START!

-Nicolai

Costa Rica,  according to the guide books, is one of the world’s greatest sources for finding music of different sorts, and even genres mixed together to make something you’ve never heard before.  People say the country holds some of the world’s greatest dance, music, and singing competitions and also parties on the planet. However this was not quite the experinece we had on our trip.
One of many events is Juan Santamaria day. The morning of the homestay was actually Juan Santamaria day but you would not have known it, I guess the people we were with were just doing their daily work . We had thought Juan Santamaria day was going to be a week of fun that is celebrated across the country of Costa Rica that includes bands, parades, concerts, and dancing. And maybe it did happen at the capital or some other big town, but we did not see it.
Before we went to Costa Rica I did a lot of research on music of the country. I read about how there is a community civic party where everybody gets together to listen to local bands. And how the morning starts with a parade that goes through the streets around 5 am and is followed by a car with sirens.  Unfortunately most of the things I read about in the guide books, or on the internet we did not get to experience. (Although we did get to experience the howler monkeys.)
This could have been because we were not in a town where young people are out at night and having fun. The place we stayed was quiet and remote and people concentrated more on ecology rather then music and parties.
The class had also noticed that posters in the kid’s rooms of the home stays had the pictures of Black-Eyed Peas and other bands we know today. Also my classmates had the home stays listen to music on their  Ipods, and they seemed to enjoy the songs of Fergalicious very much. Also when I interviewed the class about what they remembered about the music it turns out they did not remember much, nor had they written about it in their journals.
All in all we did not hear a lot of music in Costa Rica, not even in the markets or on the streets. Maybe if I go to Costa Rica again and stay in San Jose I will have the chance to hear these things.

-Skylar

Despite less choice, Costa Ricans manage well on the foods they have.  Rice and beans are the staples, with lots of variation.  We had rice and beans every day but with different varieties; sometimes black and brown beans and sometimes yellow and white rice. At my home stay I had sweet yellow bread, but I do not know what is was made of.

We had a lot of fruit. We had watermelon, mango, coconut, orange, banana, plantains, sugarcane and lots more. We had salad twice. I had steak and two hamburgers.
We had hardly any meat because the people did not have much money I think most of their cows were for milk, though the only way I had milk there was in hot chocolate.
The food was very different but I ate all of it to be polite.  There was much less junk food and candy in Costa Rica then in the United States. I saw some in super markets but not where we had our home stays.
I had started to read about the cuisine of Costa Rica before I left for the trip. A lot of the things I had read about I got to eat such as rice, beans, fruit and eggs. But some things I did not have. For instance we did not have corn, tortillas, or squash.
All in all the food in Costa Rica was great I would recommend it to you.

-Tim

     I am pretty scared of heights, but I love the adrenalin rush of being so high off the ground. I sort of disappointed myself in Costa Rica when we climbed the strangler fig tree. Everyone went either all the way to the top, or about half way, and I chickened out a fourth of the way up the tree. Standing around the enormous tree made me realize that it was about twenty times my size and it would really hurt if it fell on me. The outside surroundings of the tree were surprisingly smooth, and there wasn’t any really stable branch you could climb up. All of the vines and hollow trunk made it seem bigger than it actually is. On the way down the tree there wasn’t a lot of places to put your feet or hold on to, so it was pretty nerve-racking if you couldn’t find a spot.
The strangler fig tree grows in dark tropical forests. Birds, monkeys, and bats scatter its seeds into little nooks in other trees. The epiphyte grows down until it roots, winding its vines around the host tree, and “strangling” it. Eventually the fig tree completely takes over the host tree trunk. During that process the strangler’s shady canopy steals the energy from the sun, and the host tree is losing its nutrition. But, that event takes years to happen.
All the reading I did definitely didn’t prepare me for the actual experience of being there. All the trees in Costa Rica seem even more beautiful and unreal than in where we live Vermont. The leaves are HUGE and unrealistic that you don’t know if some scientist made them or not! Every single tree we passed (except the ones covered in bugs, spiders, webs, or anything else that is gross) I wanted to jump on and start climbing! They all look like they are from “The Lion King”, the movie. One of the questions I have been asking myself is why are the strangler figs so deadly to other trees? Then I realized that evolution needs viscous deadly trees to keep the circle of life going around and around.

I was so excited just to be in Costa Rica that I didn’t want to let anything ruin my trip. Even though I am very disappointed in myself because I didn’t climb the tree all the way to the top, I am happy because I would have never known how scary it was if I had only read books about it. The only thing I am trying to say is that I am really happy I got to climb the tree part of the way up, and it’s the real experience that counts.

-Maddie

There’s a kid riding down the highway coming from Monteverde thinking, “Costa Rica isn’t really as developed as I had thought; it’s actually not that bad at all.” I come down the highway and see Liberia. This area is developed, it’s a city. As I turn the corner down the highway to Playa Hermosa I am shocked to see there are no lush green hillsides, just hillsides covered with trees with no leaves and torn up soil that makes this look more like a desert than a forest.
I wake up in Playa Hermosa to the sound of howler monkeys and birds. I step up on to the beach and look out into the hills, but instead of seeing a lush green hillside what do I see? I see a sight that is all too common now on Costa Rican beaches, condos. You would think the owners of these condos would like to have a green hillside instead of a brown one covered with trees that look more like bramble than anything else. You would think the owners of these places would like the actual place to look sort of like the pictures on the highway billboards. You would think the owners wouldn’t want to scare off their customers, but they don’t. After deforesting the hillside, and putting out tons of waste, these businesses still claim to be “ecofriendly,” a word that used all too easily these days.

In Costa Rica the government is working on a program called the CST (Costa Rica sustainable tourism). This gives different hotels and resorts different ratings which depend on the following criteria: the interaction of the company with the environment including amount of generated emissions, pollution and conservation measures. They also look at the company’s internal systems and process for handling waste. This also has to do with ways to conserve energy and water. Telling guests the importance of using water and electricity wisely and a company’s efforts to have people follow beach codes, as well as the interaction with the community by buying local foods is also important. This program gives hotels a leaf rating going from one leaf to five leaves. Although this sounds like a good idea I question its reliability. A few things I have read said that it is easy for rich businesses to get this rating and that the standards are too general. Also, when I visited the Ecolodge in San Luis I found that they make most of their food right there and also are very conscious about energy conservation and yet they only had three leaves. But, while I was working on the internet I found a hotel that had four leaves but had a fifty foot pool, a bar and a Jacuzzi in every room, and a complementary gourmet breakfast that definitely wasn’t the country’s normal rice and beans. How can a place like this have such a high rating and the Ecolodge not have a high rating? Well, maybe they put up little warnings in each room telling people not to leave trash on the beach but does that make them ecofriendly?
It is sad that Costa Rica might not be the way it is now in the future. In this future, that is almost knocking on Costa Rica’s door, Costa Ricans will have to tighten their rules and shut down some resorts. If they do not do this they will face the loss of all the beauty of their land and give way to the steamrollers, chainsaws and rich beach resort owners and let their beautiful country become a land of pavement, resorts and buildings.
-Lloyd

    What I first noticed about Gilberto, a Costa Rican coffee farmer at Finca La Bella, was his pride.  He stood before our tired faces and slouched figures speaking exuberantly of his life on his family’s abundant coffee farm.  Finca La Bella is a cooperative of a bunch of different farmers, he explained.  It’s helpful to work with other people and easier money wise.  He pointed to the small bowls, arranged lovingly on a stout table, filled with beans at different stages of life.  One held the round, crimson cherries that each cradled two small beans, tucked away among the fruit.  Another held the beans after the pulp had been peeled away, two more papery layers that sheltered them.  He blushed as he announced that he had a tendency to over talk, and to cut him short if it seemed like he was doing so.
With a wave of his hand, Gilberto started down a path to his house and we proceeded to scoop up our bags and follow.  After a tour of his small yet comfortable home and his running medals, displayed elegantly on a wall, we started through the woods toward the farm.  We ventured toward the rows of bush like plants and halted when he began speaking.  He bent down, stroking a shiny, dark green leaf between his thumb and forefinger, making gestures with his other to go along with his fast Spanish.  Pedro, our Spanish teacher and translator for the tour, explained what he was speaking of.  He told us how Finca La Bella’s coffee was grown without harsh chemicals in the blaze of the sun.  He explained how because of this, different coffee plants on Gilberto’s piece of land sprouted flowers and cherries at different times, depending on how much sun, shade and water each plant gets.  This makes it easier to pick because the harvesting times are scattered.  On sun grown farms, all the picking has to be done at once, and often they don’t get all of the cherries in time.
As we walked through the farm, we noticed this was true.  Some of the chest high plants were barely sprouting buds while others had bloomed wonderful smelling, white flowers that fall off when it’s time to make room for the cherries.  Since it was not the harvesting season, there were few plants with cherries, usually just a branch or two with bunches of fruits crowded together.
He beckoned us back into the woods and toward a large boulder.  We all scrambled up as he began to speak again.  He told us that when he was smaller, his grandfather used to take him to this exact place and spoke to him many wise words that Gilberto still remembers.  His grandfather told him how if you treated the land with care, it would give back to you.  The land was not just a farm.  It was the family’s way of life and it must be passed down.
After these words, we were all intent on turning stalks of sugarcane into juice by cranking the simple machine.  We jumped down from the boulder, eager and ready to do the job.  He told us to stand two people, one on either side of the machine, and turn the handles.  We listened to the stalks twist and crunch, strained of their juice, which flowed in an even stream down to a bucket.  He poured the juice into plastic cups and handed them out to the class.  My first sip stung me with sweetness; nothing could get more pure and fresh than this juice, literally straight from the farm.  I looked over and noticed Gilberto stripping a stalk of its outer skin and cutting the inside into small pieces.  He grinned as he handed me a handful.  I gave out the little sticks to other classmates and began to chew.  As I munched, the taste of sugar flooding my mouth and throat, I thought of Gilberto’s words throughout the tour.  How they were filled with so much knowledge and love for what he did.  The passionate words of a true farmer.

-Charlotte

    Ugh! Be QUIET! I pulled the heavy wool blanket down over my head and tried to block out the sounds of the WAY-too-early life at my Costa Rica home stay. I tossed onto my side and felt my wrist up and down until I found my watch and pressed the glow button. 4:47 am. I sighed and sat up, looking across the cozy shack to see if Liz, Charlotte, or Rachel had been woken by the monstrous moos and cock-a-doodle-doo’s. Nope. Liz and Charlotte were dead to the world, and Rachel had already gotten up. My bare-feet hit the cold cement floor and the cold-shock sent a rush of chills to the top of my head. I tip toed over to the small window and stuck my head outside. No more than two feet away was the huge pink snout of possibly the biggest cow I had ever seen. Why the rooster was giving its wake-up call before the sun rose, I don’t know. Why had the cow had been sticking its head through the window and unleashing its ENOURMOUS “roar”? I have no idea. But I know I had never been this close to this big an animal at this early in the morning, nor had I heard a more annoying rooster in my life- and I live in Vermont! Well hey, if there’s a place for new experiences, Costa Rica is the place to go.

I crawled back into the comfortable bed I had slept so peacefully in the night before, and realized I shouldn’t even try to fall back asleep, so I did a quick run through of what I had experienced the night before, my first night ever in a Spanish-Speaking only home stay:

    Walking into the cozy home was like walking into a plume of constrained silence. I had kissed Blanca (my home stay mother) on both cheeks as I entered her home, and my first impression of her from the looks of her house was definitely religious. I had stood gawking at the gigantic holographic picture of Jesus, hanging just above the TV. Rachel, Liz, and Charlotte entered with Blanca trailing behind, and we all sat down on the couch, staring at each other and chuckling nervously when no one could think of what to do or say. I must say I felt a little bit out of place, and couldn’t help but think of what Blanca thought of the tourist girl in her house with crazy hair, wearing ripped shorts with striped leggings underneath and bright green shoes! The Tico’s style and our style were pretty much the same. Blanca wore a flower printed dress and white apron and her granddaughter who stayed the night wore jean shorts and a pink top. Compared to my clothing they weren’t quite as crazy as my clothes, but the resemblance was quite similar to what you might witness in the US.
Some of the silences we sat through hung so heavy over our heads that I felt like I was being pushed down by a force. I had succeeded at getting out some easy sentences that had been drilled into my head since day-one, but when I was actually in a situation where they were my last strands of hope before actually committing language suicide, I only had one thought: “Darn! I should have paid more attention in Spanish Class!”
The TV was on the majority of the time, more often than my own home, and we watched a soccer match and the movie “Spanglish”. (I thought this was quite the coincidence.) It was even on through most of dinner, which Charlotte, Liz, and Rachel and I ate alone because Blanca had already eaten. But Blanca cooked us a great meal of (you guessed it) rice, beans, as well as cheesy noodles and vegetables. Since I didn’t eat with my home stay family, so I asked Starcie how the dinner at her home stay went: “Dinner was interesting. We were having a staring contest and the boy was just looking at us and laughing, cause he didn’t know what was going on. We had chicken rice and beans… it was ok. The TV was on constantly, and we watched their home videos!” After dinner we tried to “break down” the language barrier again, but didn’t have much luck. I showed them pictures of my family, we gave them our gifts, and then we played Pick-Up-Sticks for about an hour with the grandson and granddaughter. Throughout all of this we figured out that Blanca was the grandmother of twenty kids, and had ten kids (all grown up) of her own, who all lived on the same road as she did…

Rachel walked into the shack, putting my thoughts on hold. The sun was catching up with the rooster, and within the next half hour or so we were all awake and sitting in the yard munching on toast with jam and sipping coffee. As Liz noted in her journal: “There were seven dogs that followed us around along with chickens and a cat. We ended up feeding the dogs most of our toast, but the coffee was good.” I walked into the kitchen to refill my cup, and walked into five older Costa Rican men, Blanca’s sons, watching soccer and all eating together. When they all finished eating they put on their work boots and went out to the animals and worked on Blanca’s farm. I found it really interesting that even though the sons had their own farms to manage, they would still all work for their mother. The level of respect between family members in Costa Rica was outstanding, and seeing all these men still come back to work on their mother’s farm was a really great thing to witness.
If I had to take something away from this home stay experience, I would have studied a lot harder before I came. I fell into many situations talking to Blanca where I felt almost depressed because I couldn’t figure out a sentence with words I had definitely heard before. Others (like Ashleigh) had language frustration as well: “We were playing UNO with the boy from our home stay and we got to a skip card and ended up floundering for about fifteen minutes because we didn’t know the word for skip.” I feel like I had one chance to connect with this person who, despite our different ways of life, had so kindly let us stay in her home when she knew nothing about us. I had been so determined to do it. I would break down this ever-so-looming “language barrier” and actually interact with someone in Costa Rica. This was an amazing learning experience. But, I took way more away from it than just an “experience”. I took away the knowledge that next time I would be in this situation, I would do something about it. I would know next time that I would want to stay up late talking in a foreign language with foreign people and actually get to know them, instead of crashing after about our fiftieth game of Pick-Up-Sticks. I myself tried to claw through this language barrier, tried to jump over, tried to dig underneath it. I tried desperately to get to the other side… yet looking back I hadn’t really said anything. Next time I face a language barrier, I will knock it down with the power of my words.

-Audrey