Favorite whispered sentence:
"I can't believe what I have just accomplished!"
Our last day as locals couldn't have been better. I ran to town early to begin checking off my to do list for our departure. Veered off to the beach, sunk into the ocean and slowed my heart down from the run, before picking up cinnamon rolls for the boys.
Over breakfast, we talked about how we adjusted this month. How our bodies adjusted to the heat, and how our feet were super tough and calloused from the sand. We talked about being covered in salt, and wearing bathing suits as clothing: no shirts, no shoes, no problem. We noticed how we wake earlier in Costa Rica from the heat, monkey howls and coo birds, but fall asleep heavily at 8:00p. We saw more smiling, slower walking and more nature-/less man-enforced rules. Nate was nostalgic and wished for more time. Max was pumped for his sailing lesson, wishing we could stay next week. They were pleasant and chattering, and sounded like two other boys. Last night, my boys were just about done with the summer, and dying for Brown Bear and Ti. These guys always trip me up, especially when I'm exhausted. Personally, I felt like this trip was a struggle at times, and was sure that they agreed. I thought I read discontent from Max and Nate, but maybe not. They are growing into people, and my handle on their working minds is loosening more each year.
I check off bank, check off laundry, check off breakfast, check off boys packed.
Beach. The sun was monster hot, and competed with very few clouds. There would be no rain today. We ouched across the sand and tsssssss cooled our pigs in the water, where we set our goals.
Nate had agreed to borrow a life jacket and swim to the dock with me, during Max's sailing lesson. Max agreed to sail alone with Jeff, the instructor (who reminds me of Nicky). I agreed to swim all day and encourage these goals into reality. Five minutes until the lesson, Max had begun his doctor-visit-like apprehension, and the sand was so hot that it served as an excuse for both boys to ask to bail. "Let's just go, mom. Please we hate this."
This is a common and never, ever easy position for me. I know both boys with be wonderfully changed if they stick to their personal challenges, but they are fighting me with last minute nerves. Like embarrassingly so. Like stubbornly and angrily so. Sew, so I swallowed my own brat down, grabbed Nate and ran to the water.
"Don't look back! 'Do like mothers in nursery school!'" I yelled over as we ran. Nate and I stayed underwater or ducked down until Max looked semi-cool. Jeff waved and started dragging the small, blue, racing sailboat to the water. Max was getting started, and I looked at the red boy to say,
"Let's go get you a life jacket, son."
Now Nate did the dance of hesitation. "I don't know, mom! I think I'd rather not. Maybe next year.."
I'm just the worst mom ever. Nate was loaned a life jacket by Justin (who grabbed his lapels in a 'get a hold of yourself, man!' sort of way) and made sure of the tight fit. We ran over the searing sand and headed toward the dock.
Well folks when all was said and done, both boys left the beach very proud and happy. Nate was astonished and all teeth the entire swim to the dock. The jacket allowed him to really focus on his arms, (how to best cup and pull the water to propel himself along), and his form really improved. And he felt it. He was beaming, and super amazed every time he looked back at the shore. Max sailed by us and the boys yelled excitedly to each other. Nate climbed the dock ladder, and (as quoted earlier) couldn't believe what he had accomplished. He waved to Max who showed us how to capsize his boat. Then we basked like seals.
Max sailed for another hour, and Nate and I watched from the dock and then from shore. The last ten minutes or so picked up, and the water went from gentle to choppy; showing Max how quickly the conditions can change. The sun was getting lower in the sky and making those dancing sparkles along the horizon and on Max's boat. Wait until you see the sailing pictures! Max was awesome, and really enjoyed himself. He is now looking for a used sailboat to restore. Jeff said he was a natural and hoped Max would be able to keep it up. Max was absolutely lit up.
So I got my beach day of swimming and handstands and mud slopping and picture taking, and the boys both exceeded their personal expectations. Perfect last day.
We handed out our contact info and promised to pop in for goodbyes before flying out in the morn.
These new lives of ours- these summer lives- and the relationships that we cultivate over a month's stay, weave into our hearts, and change us. Experiential education demands a multidimensional focus, unlike the teachings of a lecture or collaborations in a classroom. All are different and essential beasts of education. The necessary analysis and conversation make sense of the experience, and can spawn further research and innovation. But if you are the seeker, being the seekers, we are in it. You feel the air, the adjustment with mind, body and soul. We are part of the experiment. To watch my boys adapt to our month long adventures first by establishing a home, makes perfect sense to me, but is still warming to watch. It's structure but it's personal and touching. Us human beings are pretty fascinating.
We loved our dirt road walks and scurrying creatures. We loved watching the ocean pour and pull over our feet and Earth. We loved seeing new friends waving. And speaking different languages, but laughing and crying universally; left the language barrier to shrink by comradery's wayside. I think we all just loved feeling comfortable, finding our feet, following a routine and becoming familiar faces. It sort of makes the whole world feel approachable.
Sailing
Ocean
Shack
Road home