Cuáqueros
The universe has landed me in this humble Quaker hostel in the middle of San José, Costa Rica. I´ve been here a week, and already feel like one of the family. I´ve bonded with the staff, and have heard the woes of fewer travelers due to the whammies of pig flu and economy, so I celebrate with them when business seems to pick up.
And the ´business´ really is a rainbow of activists that I continue to be amazed by as I meet them at the breakfast table day after day. Attached to the lodging area is a peace center called´"Centro de Amigos para la Paz" which is likely the attraction of so many visitors who champion various causes of justice. The director of the peace center is an impressive woman who, among other issues, has struggled to convince the government to cease sending national police for training at the School of the Americas in the US (to my surprise, since I´d assumed CR´s abolishment of the army some 60 years ago would preclude this relationship).
Otherwise, each guest has had quite a story. It began with three biologists from the University of Kansas who´ve come to help with studies of frogs on the Caribbean coast who are being threatened by some species of moss. In the next days I spoke with a woman who leads the organic farming movement in Costa Rica, who spoke to me of land issues and challenges to expand the interest in organic. Today I spoke with two indigenous Costa Ricans who traveled 8 hours to the capital to meet with others to discuss how to best continue on with their 16-year quest for indigenous autonomy. Another guest from the US spoke to me of her job loss in the states which impelled her to pack up and fly away to see what she could find here in Costa Rica.
And this morning after a long run I settled into Quaker meeting with four others, three from the US and one local. The local man, Don Francisco, gifted us with a recounting of history related with the story of his peace activist sister, Libia, who passed away just two weeks ago. He explained that as she was awaiting death, they wrote down many memories, among them the story of her 28-month imprisonment. In the ´80´s, as the CIA was labeling movements of which they aimed to stomp out any deemed communist, the CIA identified 28 Quakers they deemed as dangerous to the stability of the US-friendly Costa Rican government. They accused Libia of having ties to-- surprise-- Lybia, and put her away for 28 months. They asserted that the pacifist was capable of putting together automatic weapons with her eyes closed... They finally released her due to no evidence.
Another woman present during the Quaker meeting today who is co-founder of the peace center, shared her side of the story: that she took it on as a personal mission to visit Libia throughout her imprisonment, and did so at least once a week. She welcomed this ´mission´ because at this time, her husband of 32 years, had up and left her for a Tican woman. So she wrote letter after letter to international bodies who might pay attention to Libia´s unjust imprisonment.
Besides my perpetual education here at my Costa Rican home, I´ve been adopted by a second ´family´ where I´ve been volunteering, at ´Centro de Educación para la Paz´. The director is an elder, yet also a soul sister, who I´ve been able to witness in action during several workshops about creative responses to conflict. Amazing how the simplest of techniques can bring out the most healing of dialogues. I´ve been heartened by the surge of positive energy generated through these workshops; a needed balance to the otherwise depressing conversations of people here-- lamenting the rise of drug use, of violent crime, of homelessness, of consumerism, of environmental demise... all which I´ve been experiencing myself in Costa Rica, despite my short time here thusfar.
Nontheless San José, as a major city, offers impressive events. Last night I walked about 3 minutes to a free concert given by one of the most famous bands here, Malpais. Awesome. The night before I saw four artists from the Juliard School in NY who performed at an American Cultural Center theatre, dancing out goosebump-powerful messages of struggle, pain, dreams, love... All packed houses, all in solidarity.
I´ve been open to the question of "what brings me here?" and am listening as the answers echo in. Another week before flying back to the ´patria´, the Dominican Republic, where after five years I will walk again the steps of the Peace Corps era.
And the ´business´ really is a rainbow of activists that I continue to be amazed by as I meet them at the breakfast table day after day. Attached to the lodging area is a peace center called´"Centro de Amigos para la Paz" which is likely the attraction of so many visitors who champion various causes of justice. The director of the peace center is an impressive woman who, among other issues, has struggled to convince the government to cease sending national police for training at the School of the Americas in the US (to my surprise, since I´d assumed CR´s abolishment of the army some 60 years ago would preclude this relationship).
Otherwise, each guest has had quite a story. It began with three biologists from the University of Kansas who´ve come to help with studies of frogs on the Caribbean coast who are being threatened by some species of moss. In the next days I spoke with a woman who leads the organic farming movement in Costa Rica, who spoke to me of land issues and challenges to expand the interest in organic. Today I spoke with two indigenous Costa Ricans who traveled 8 hours to the capital to meet with others to discuss how to best continue on with their 16-year quest for indigenous autonomy. Another guest from the US spoke to me of her job loss in the states which impelled her to pack up and fly away to see what she could find here in Costa Rica.
And this morning after a long run I settled into Quaker meeting with four others, three from the US and one local. The local man, Don Francisco, gifted us with a recounting of history related with the story of his peace activist sister, Libia, who passed away just two weeks ago. He explained that as she was awaiting death, they wrote down many memories, among them the story of her 28-month imprisonment. In the ´80´s, as the CIA was labeling movements of which they aimed to stomp out any deemed communist, the CIA identified 28 Quakers they deemed as dangerous to the stability of the US-friendly Costa Rican government. They accused Libia of having ties to-- surprise-- Lybia, and put her away for 28 months. They asserted that the pacifist was capable of putting together automatic weapons with her eyes closed... They finally released her due to no evidence.
Another woman present during the Quaker meeting today who is co-founder of the peace center, shared her side of the story: that she took it on as a personal mission to visit Libia throughout her imprisonment, and did so at least once a week. She welcomed this ´mission´ because at this time, her husband of 32 years, had up and left her for a Tican woman. So she wrote letter after letter to international bodies who might pay attention to Libia´s unjust imprisonment.
Besides my perpetual education here at my Costa Rican home, I´ve been adopted by a second ´family´ where I´ve been volunteering, at ´Centro de Educación para la Paz´. The director is an elder, yet also a soul sister, who I´ve been able to witness in action during several workshops about creative responses to conflict. Amazing how the simplest of techniques can bring out the most healing of dialogues. I´ve been heartened by the surge of positive energy generated through these workshops; a needed balance to the otherwise depressing conversations of people here-- lamenting the rise of drug use, of violent crime, of homelessness, of consumerism, of environmental demise... all which I´ve been experiencing myself in Costa Rica, despite my short time here thusfar.
Nontheless San José, as a major city, offers impressive events. Last night I walked about 3 minutes to a free concert given by one of the most famous bands here, Malpais. Awesome. The night before I saw four artists from the Juliard School in NY who performed at an American Cultural Center theatre, dancing out goosebump-powerful messages of struggle, pain, dreams, love... All packed houses, all in solidarity.
I´ve been open to the question of "what brings me here?" and am listening as the answers echo in. Another week before flying back to the ´patria´, the Dominican Republic, where after five years I will walk again the steps of the Peace Corps era.
posted by Amanda Joy at 1:41 PM
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