We bustled into the Spanish room chomping on trail mix and plantain chips and expecting another subjunctive lecture. But instead, the professor dimmed the lights and flicked on the projector. You can imagine our surprise when an emotional singer appeared on screen, strumming his guitar and holding back tears while singing his song “El Hubiera No Existe” (“I had” doesn’t exist).
We stopped mid-chew and perked up our ears to find out why he was crying. Some key lyrics:
“Si no hubiera olvidado cuánto es que te amaba” - If I hadn’t forgot how much I loved you
"Pero no, no existe, El hubiera no existe" - But no, it doesn't exist, 'If I had' doesn't exist
“Y aunque me arrepienta, No hay boleto de vuelta” - And even if I regret it, There is no return ticket
By the end, we were all singing our hearts out. Que triste una canción.
(Aprendiendo El Hubiera No Existe - 07/08/24)
The point of this lesson was for us to learn about “el hubiera,” (“if I had”). If only the singer had acted differently, he might still have his lover. But No, No Existee; he can't go back in time and change his ways.
Spanish and wisdom. I have less than two weeks left to live in this beautiful place. I will leave with no regrets, no remorseful singing about what could have been.
I spent that day’s dinner belting the song to my friends. My week has been filled with music – or maybe I’m finally starting to notice all of the music that fills life here.
Every morning, I wake up to the mezcla (mix) of birdsongs at 5:30 AM. I just sleepily sit up, blink slowly, and tune in for a few minutes. Whether I’m slouched in my bed, riding my bike to La Fio (the organic farm and location of my project), or walking along the many streams/rivers here, the animals are always playing their symphony.
On the other hand, students are always blasting music from their speakers (altavoces). There’s this person in my dorm building who plays 2010s music midday after classes, and sometimes I’ll return to my room just for Maroon 5.
We use music to express our joy, affection, and to have fun. Fhernando often writes out English songs and translates the lyrics into Spanish. He and I traded songs in Spanish and English to learn. For his birthday, I wrote out one of my all-time favorites “Us,” by Regina Spektor, and he showed me Natalia Lafourcade’s “Hasta La Raíz” ("Until the root [heart]"), a beautiful but melancholy song about an unforgettable love.
I spent the next hour memorizing the song and its rustic, natural lyrics, which equipped me with the perfect vocabulary for the phytopathology field trip the next day. It also helped that this was the one song I downloaded for the 2-hour and 30-minute drive. When we ascended slopes, I knew they were called lomas (hills), and when we reached elevations high enough to ride through the clouds, I excitedly yelled “¡Nubes!” (clouds).
The purpose of our trip was to observe differences in agricultural conditions, practices, and diseases at different elevations. We first visited the Ministry of Agriculture and Livestock (Ministerio de Agricultura y Ganadería) in Cartago to better understand the general agricultural landscape, but we also learned about some of the most pressing issues in Costa Rican agriculture. 98% of Costa Rica’s agriculture employs conventional farming and the use of agrochemicals, which leads to soil degradation and erosion, health risks, and lower-quality produce (https://english.elpais.com/economy-and-business/2024-02-17/organic-farming-in-the-land-of-agrochemicals.html). Although the transition to organic can be complicated, organic accounts for only 1.9% of total agriculture, so there are more opportunities in this exclusive market.
After the overview, up we went to the farm at the highest (and coldest) altitude. Hugging to stay warm, we took in the gorgeous, green rolling hills surrounding us. The cabbage patches in front of us were covered with lesions due to Cabbage Anthracnose, and we learned about the need for crop rotation to move roots so that diseases do not have sufficient time to take over; this is one strategy farmers can use reduce their pesticide usage. After everyone had the chance to say hi to a dog (perro) roaming around the crop, we hopped on the bus and rode to the next altitude.
(Cabbage Anthracnose - 07/12/24)
(Rolling Hills of Cartago - 07/12/24)
Our final stop was a low-altitude tomato mono-crop. This time, when we deboarded, we peeled off our sweaty coats, put on our hats (gorras), and reapplied sunscreen. A young girl (around 8 years old) raced by with rollerblades, sizing up our class. We filed into a row of tomato crops covered by translucent tarps of plastic, there to block rain and humidity from creating the perfect breeding ground for diseases. If a disease were to infiltrate the mono-crop, it could easily and rapidly spread. Then, the girl, Emilia, popped in to pick some tomatoes and listen to the lecture. She gifted her favorite Earthians tomatoes (aka. me) (aka. the people standing around her). With fresh tomatoes, notes, and diseased leaves in hand (to analyze in the lab), we reboarded the bus (aútobus).
(Diseased Tomatoes - 07/12/24)
On the way back to La U, I didn’t need my “Hasta La Raíz” download because the class blasted Reggaeton and shouted along.
The smells here are just as powerful as the sounds (even with speakers). Someone farted, and everyone groaned and opened their windows. Then we passed an area that reeked of manure, and everyone closed their windows (ventanas).
(The Bus - 07/12/24)
The following day, I applied the natural pest deterrent Apichi to fight the worms feasting on my lettuce, and my hands reeked for the next two days. My friends told me I smelled like EARTH. Ronal, on the flip side, smelled EARTH because an insect flew into his nose and remained for a good half an hour.
(Ronal’s Insect - 07/13/24)
Después (after), I showered, washed my hands three more times, and then departed on another bus bound for Guápiles, a small city 30ish minutes away from EARTH, to celebrate Fhernando’s birthday. The city was filled with color, life, and millions of cute dogs (perritos :) ). We walked over to the central park to listen to live music and take pictures with the perfectly aligned path of palms. We swayed to the music, breathing in the sugary scents of the street food vendors, watching distant lightning strikes, listening to the shouts and laughter of children, and waiting for the Uber.
(Palms of Guápiles - 07/13/24)
But taste, too, has created this blissful week. The taste of marshmallows and Oreos on the way to Cartago, the taste of coco-pineapple birthday smoothies, the taste of crackers with peanut butter and honey as the ultimate breakfast. The Borlaug-Ruan Intern last year, Sophia, wrote about tasting fresh Malay apples around the EARTH campus, and my friend Steven coincidentally enough took me to look for some. Though none were ripe, I can’t wait to try one for myself.
Unrelated, we also saw an injured Toucan (túcan). Steven tried to throw it chunks of fruit, but the pieces were too green for the Toucan too.
(Pobre Toucan - 07/14/24)
This week has been melodic, scent-sational, and flavorful. I will spend these last two weeks paying attention, feeling and holding close every moment. I will savor everything and regret nothing.
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