Tarcoles is a tiny fishing town in Costa Rica; a person could walk from one side to the other in under ten minutes. Upon arrival, my friends and I snuck off to the beach while the teachers were getting organized. Immediately a fisherman saw us white folks and money signs began flashing in his mind. He offered to take us fishing (for a small fee, of course). Doubting this guy had any kind of certified safety license, we graciously denied.
Seeing us mingling with the locals, our teacher rushed over and corralled us back to a building that ended up being the big fishing corporation that was hosting us. We were given a lecture about the town, and just as I began drifting off to sleep we were told it was time for a crocodile tour! Thrilled, we drove to the site. My teacher told me this was a very "Gringo" thing to do, but that it was fun nonetheless. He was right! 15-foot crocodiles were swarming under and next to the boat. To top it off, the scenery was gorgeous, too. It was an experience I will remember with a smile for the rest of my life.
When we arrived back from the crocodile tour, it was time to meet our host families for the night. Although it was such a short amount of time, all of the initial feelings of being paired with a family started cropping up again, all stemming around anxiety and fear. However, once again Whitworth prevailed. My friend Tori and I were assigned to the kindest woman. Her house was even attached to her daughter's house, who was hosting two additional students, so we were able to eat meals together in a big group which was fun. Here is the house I stayed in, along with my host mom and temporary housemate Tori:
What seemed like a full day was only half-way through. We had some free time before the final event-- karaoke night at a local bar with our Professors-- so we went swimming in the stunningly beautiful and shockingly warm Tarcoles beach.
At first I felt awkward spending free time with Professors, but my perception was altered when my friend told me that on her study abroad trip to the Middle East she went to a public nude bath with her teacher. I then thought that a beach and karaoke bar would be just fine.
We were then given an official tour of the city. An adorable little boy, Julian, was following us on our tour with no parents in sight. I noticed that he was walking on the extremely dirty ground which was littered with glass/cigarettes/etc. barefoot, and would wander into dangerous rooms full of tools/knives/boat motors with no supervision or worry from the local adults. In the picture below he was climbing on a high wall and only myself and my friends rushed over to pull him off as he was about to fall. It seems as though children in this town learn from their mistakes, rather than parental guidelines. I also noticed that he was carrying around and playing with a toy: a dead fish. Needless to say, visiting Tarcoles quickly became a very big culture shock.
The next day we were given the opportunity to join Tarcoles fishermen on a fishing trip. This was especially neat because this experience was unique to the Whitworth program. We divided up and were assigned to our boats. As we began to cruise down the ocean, I noticed someone in the front of the boat who was leaning off the side and under the fast-moving death machine. It seemed like they were making a quick repair of some sort. It was too small to be a man, but there was no way a woman would be doing labor of this sort in this society. It was a child! I asked the fisherman and he said it was his son, and children begin contributing to the workforce around age ten. The boy didn't seem to mind spending the day boating on the beautiful Tarcoles ocean-- he layed on top of the boat for the majority of the trip.
We fished and, thank God, came up almost empty. The one time we caught a fish, I felt so bad for the poor little guy flopping around and blinking. Since this was the fishermens' livelihood, however, I tried not to be too extroverted about my discomfort. Luckily for my conscience, however, it was not a type of fish they could sell so they threw it back. Unfortunately, they were not able to get the hook out so it will have a less than desirable remainder of its life.
Unfortunately for these little guys below, they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and were the only casualties of the day (besides an octopus that the boy found, which actually attacked him and left his arm seriously cut which he thought was very funny. He told me the story as he was nonchalantly plucking its eyes out with his fingers to prepare it for selling).
We then cruised over to a stunning private beach where we swam in the warm ocean. After some exploring and hiking, we came across a waterfall! The afternoon was spent swimming, sitting under the waterfall, and of course, eating.
The trip was one that cannot be put into words. I am hoping in my case that the pictures will speak for themselves. Tarcoles was an amazing, beautiful town full of kind people.
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