¿Cómo se dice...?

It's still hard for me to believe that I am communicating in a world where English is not my primary language - well, at least it shouldn't be. LASP (Latin American Studies Program - the program that I am a part of) is an immersive program, one that throws you into the thick of the culture and language of Costa Rica. If the thought of being outside of your comfort zone maks you, well, uncomfortable, then don't study abroad. 

This past weekend, we took a trip to the port city of  Limón (along the Atlantic coast). Our primary aim was to interact with the people there and learn something about the conditions in which they live. We were to ask them what they thought about the poverty in Costa Rica, namely, their town. Needless to say, we had a few interesting encounters. If you want to know more, ask me about it some time.

I think that one of my favorite experiences from this weekend was our visit to a local Methodist church on Sunday. Our huge group of 40+ students and faculty split up into two groups: one went to a Catholic church and the other, my group, to the Methodist church. The thing about Limón is that it has a large Afro-Costa Rican population/culture, so this area has more of a Caribbean culture. A lot of people came over from Jamaica, freely, to work on the railroad in the 1870's (I think... maybe the 1890's..) between the Central Valley (San Jose) to the Atlantic coast. Anyway, I was suprised to find out that this service was going to be in English because a lot of the older generation only knows English, and not Spanish. Within the Caribbean sub-culture, the younger generation knows more Spanish than English and less about their roots. But yes, the service was in English and it was a beautiful, small church that reminded me a lot of my church. 

As some of you may know (or not know), my church back at home in Massachusetts has a large African population. Most of them are refugees from all over Africa and they have come to live in the Massachusetts/Rhode Island area. A lot of them have carried over their Free Methodist church membership to our church. Our services are also bilingual, in a way. My pastor, Pastor Wills, will speak for some time, and then Samy, a great man (and former refugee) from Burundi, will translate the message into either Kirundi or Swahili to the African population in our church. In the church setting, I guess you could say that I am used to being part of the minority - and it is a beautiful thing. The Africans have brought so much life and spirit to our worship on Sundays. I don't ever remember a church experience so genuine and comforting. Despite our differences in language and culture, God has allowed us to have a community of believers where the differences only serve to enhance our body of believers and mold it into a family. And all of that is to say that being in an entirely different country, worshipping with an entirely different group of people wasn't as strange or foreign as one might think it'd be. Maybe it was a bit odd for others, but I felt right at home. And I thank God for the opportunity to worship in such a familiar way.