The Basílica and the Reverie (in reverse chronological order)

February 21, 2007
Mood: Pensive
I sit on the bus knuckles white and clenching the seat in front of me. It’s the first time in about 3 weeks that I’ve recognized the smell of pollution; I guess I was getting accustomed to it. The bitterness stings my lungs and I don’t feel like breathing. I can feel my pulse in the fingers on my plastic bag-laden left hand which is sitting on top of my heavy backpack. I recall the first week of my arrival when I thought that the air smelled like the organic waste material I disposed of at my job in the Chemistry Stockroom in Colorado. The bus slows in the traffic that’s as thick as molasses and the car in front of us begins backing up to let another car into the lane. Mental. I tighten my grip a little as the bus jerks to a stop about 2.5 inches from the other car and the driver lays on the horn.

My Spanish teacher told us that as many people that have died as casualties of the Iraq war, is equivalent to the number of people that continue to die every day in car accidents in Costa Rica Alone. Costa Rica is probably close to half the size of Colorado, population about 4 million. Yesterday another professor was talking about how a taxi crashed into a bus killing all 5 people in the car. But what’s sad is that the Ticos are beginning to build up an immunity to the daily bloodshed, ‘oh at least it was only one taxi today and not 3’.

I talked to a Tico on the bus the other day and he expresses his frustration and sadness at his country explaining that there are people in the country that haven’t seen the other side of their own country because they can’t afford it.

I’m caught in a dream, daily, wondering where I am in time and when and if I missed something. I’m caught off guard when people speak in English, and even more so when I throw in an English phrase into my conversation. But time doesn’t pause to allow for thinking, we’ve got to function as we are able brains working overtime to translate, contemplate, recreate scenes, and dream when there is a moment or two to spare.

We went to the Basílica in Cartago today, which is a huge Catholic church built in honor of the Virgin Mary. It is quite spectacular. The story of the founding of this church goes something like this:
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there was a young indigenous girl who was walking around outside, surely on her way from one place to another, when she came across a small dark figurine of a woman sitting on a rock. The figurine seemed very beautiful to her, and very kind, so she picked it up and took it home with her. She didn’t want to risk someone taking it, so she wrapped it in cloth and put it beneath her bed. When she got up in the morning, she pulled out the cloth and discovered that the figurine had disappeared. The girl was stumped and didn’t know what to think. But the girl went walking about and passed by the same place where she first encountered the figurine and there she was perched on the rock again. The same thing happened again, and this time the girl went to the father of the church and told him about it. The father doubted the girls story, but went to the site and encountered the figurine. He too took it back with him, and he discovered that the girls words were true. Together they decided that that was where the dark skinned Virgin Mary wanted to stay and so they constructed a church on the site in her honor, and enshrined the Virgin Mary inside the temple, where she remains to this day.
The place definitely has that ancient religious feel to it, and the reverence was added to because of the fact that the church was full of people for Ash Wednesday. I found myself intrigued by different symbols I found in the church, very reminiscent of the DaVinci code. On a lower level outside is a place where water passes beneath the church, and people hold this water as holy in their minds. People are filling up jugs of water, rubbing it on their children, and on parts of the body that are injured, in hopes that the Virgin de Los Angeles will cure them. It was pretty powerful to watch.
We ended up the day by visiting a beautiful lookout where we could take some awesome pictures, and then going back to the school.

Next entry: Pizza and Chocolate