Costa Rica Blog 2012

It had not occurred to me that there would be people outside of CU Winds that would be reading this blog.  I think it would be appropriate for me to go over briefly exactly what it is that this tour is about.

Cornell Winds has a partnership with a Costa Rican organization called SiNEM.  The purpose of this org. is to promote a strong work ethic, peace, and cooperation amongst Costa Rican youth.  When I went on this trip two years ago, I could see how music education would foster development in those areas, but I was not entirely convinced that the program was successful.  It was too early to tell to be honest, as it was only founded a few years before.

My goal for this trip was to find out a little more about the impact SiNEM is actually making on Costa Rican youth, at least on the microscale of individual people.  My improved language skills helped me immensely in this as did the presence of Costa Rican musicians that essentially joined Cornell University Wind Ensemble for this tour.

I found that some of the greatest problems that afflict Costa Rica are domestic ones.  I met a girl who was violated at the age of 8.  She in turn told me about her classmate, aged 17, who has 3 children already.  I met several who no longer lived with their parents for whatever reason.  I met people who did not know who their fathers were.  I met someone who was abused by his mother.  And of course I heard a number of other stories secondhand.

This music program was, for many, a means of escape.  A way to avoid going home, a way to avoid getting involved with gangs or drugs (other problems that Costa Rican suffers from), even perhaps a way out of the country for some.  Even so, I noticed some limitations that most likely impede these students from getting the absolute most out of music.

1. Poor quality of instruments: I saw and heard many terrible instruments.  Cornell tries to alleviate this problem by bringing forgotten, but very playable instruments, from the US to Costa Rica.  A flute player from two years ago, who had received a new flute, improved so much that he joined us on tour this year.  Aside from donations, I know a few of us were also able to fix some instruments that kids were playing when we arrived at each school.  You never know what a single act will do.

2. Poor teachers, lack of teachers:  I actually cannot comment specifically on the quality of teachers but there was a distinct lack of them.  One notable bassoon player never had a teacher, only learned by ear.  She had only been playing for a year, yet was as capable as a student who had been playing for 3 years.  Cornell brought 40 of us musicians-turned-teachers to pass along some advice and tips we have received over the years.  We shared breathing exercises, scalar work, tuning tricks, posture, the nitty gritty of embrasure form, and so forth.

3. Familial support: I have already mentioned how broken some of these families are, but the ones that do have relatively intact families are not always the most supportive ones.  Encouragement from the home I believe can go a long way with a budding musician (or really a budding any-human-being).  The purpose of our nightly performances in all of these communities is to bring everyone together.  I can say certainly that we achieved exactly that goal in a particular barrio of the capital, San José: Leon XIII.  The priest at the end of the night approached Cindi (our conductor) and said something to the effect of: “The sounds you make are beautiful and not what we are used to hearing.  We are used to hearing gun shots.”

It is clearly evident that music can improve people’s lives.  This really is quite an incredible thing we are doing.

SAN RAMÓN: This was also a one-roomed school but that room happened to resemble something of an attic.  It was a room, certainly, but it opened up into the rafters.  Our band took up the entire floor, so the audience sort of draped themselves over staircases and wooden beams going every which way.  It was actually very pretty.  Unfortunately pigeons generally accompany rafters – makes for good brooding nests – so I got the shock of my life when they squawked during the conducting master class.  I did not get pooped on.

It was here that I taught a very adorable 10 year old named Kimberly.  It was only then that I realized I had met quite a number of female Costa Ricans with white people names but absolutely no such males.  At any rate, she made my heart melt even though she laughed at my Spanish.

On the other hand, one of the conductors of the school thought I was actually South American.  As far as I am keeping record, this is the third person on this trip who has thought so (the immigrations officer, one of the Costa Ricans traveling with us, and this guy).  I am flattered I suppose.  He later found me, unexpectedly, in the back corner of the rafters, packing up my flute, and gave me his business card.  I have no idea what to write to a Costa Rican conductor, but I will add it to my growing pile of business cards from strangers.

And finally this was probably the worst day of the week for me.  Totally congested, eyes watering, shivering and shivering and shivering.  Already we had our oboe player sitting out – I was not about to let that happen to me.

PUNTARENAS: literally means sand point.  So yes, it is a beach.  We had some hours beforehand to go explore and the tenor sax player and I found an intact sand dollar, crabs, and an entire fish head.  It was very gross especially because I thought it was a piece of coral at first.  Other people spotted jellyfish and a clam with its own defenses: fang-like structures.

The school was quite poor and reminded me completely of Poas, from two years ago.  It was the first open air school of the trip, with rooms that flanked one side of the main floor space.  Despite how poor the school was, they still offered us a snack (like every other school, I should mention).  I am not at all sure of how this happens but I am very grateful for it.  It was at Puntarenas that I discovered JUGO.  The juice they have here is I think just fruit in a juice press.  It is completely real, completely genuine, and with a flavor I’ve very rarely had in a juice.

CÓBANO:  Cóbano is located across the sea from Puntarenas.  You can catch a ferry for less than $2 (if you are a person.  More bling if you are a vehicle).  It’s complete with wooden benches lined with leather seats and a rather extensive snack bar.  We were greeted by guava and coconut (most likely.  It sounded like birds screaming CA-CA-NA) sellers and then hopped on the bus.

The bus ride was fairly eventful in of itself, with lots of tropical foliage including trees that seemed like they belonged in Africa.

Apparently it’s called a guanacaste tree and it’s the national tree of Costa Rica.

We also had to cross some very tiny bridges.  So tiny that all I could see outside of the bus was water, no actual road.  Props to Michi, our bus driver, of whom it was also his birthday (grammar anyone?) for getting us through that.

This was the last school of the week and it was similar to Puntarenas in that it too was open air.  We ate lunch first with tamarino juice.  I have never had a tamarind but if it is anything like the juice, I strongly recommend it.

We did not have a conducting master class here so instead we decided to have a mini concert with the kids.  Each section would teach their students a piece and then we would all get together and play it.

Okay I know I’ve been talking for ages but in Cóbano, there was a very notable, very talented bassoon player.  She looked about 12 and had been playing for only one year, but was very quick to learn and could play well in tune.  She told me she does not have a teacher but does everything by ear.  I had actually taught her at Puntarenas on the flute.  I told her that if I were her, I would stick to the bassoon.  Todo el mundo toca la flauta.

Ahora ya está.  I think it will be worth my time to go into a few other topics more in detail at a later point.

It’s been a week or so since I last wrote, and I do apologize for not being more timely with these posts, but it has been a bit of a whirlwind down here.

The entire week was packed with master classes, conducting workshops, and performances.  We’ve played with limited lighting, sun in our eyes, kids on tricycles and skateboards, and surprise guest artists in the form of pigeons.  And so I begin.

PAVAS: This was the only school we repeated from the last visit.  Two years ago, it was a one roomed building that also hosted Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.  It is still exactly that.  What did change, actually, was the snack they fed us.  I remember many puzzled wind players, pulling apart slices of bread to find pate smashed in between (not complaining, I frankly love pate).  This time they offered us a bologna sandwich (a bit more American, I daresay), Chips Ahoy rainbow-chip cookies (super American), a very large piece of chocolate that was white with dark specks (Costa Rican I imagine, meant to resemble a soccer ball), a Canadian candy bar called Mr. Big Deal (complete with nutrition facts in both English and French and a Canadian hockey player with a missing front tooth), and a glass of Coke.

Musically speaking, the program has expanded considerably.  Instead of three flutes, for example, we had six or more, and nearly all of them had been playing for at least a year.  We had a full concert with a very excitable and awed audience.  It certainly made me thrilled, even though our performance was not quite up to par.

GRECIA: The plan was to stop at a specific restaurant for lunch before starting our master classes.  In actual fact, we somehow got lost or perhaps just did not know exactly where the restaurant was, and pulled over into a semi-touristy restaurant.

Two notable things: Costa Ricans may or may not (again, touristy restaurant) eat deep-friend pork fat, also known as chicharrones.  A waitress patrolled the very long line, handing out cubes of this.  Unfortunately, it was very tasty.  I think it would do well in certain areas of the United States.

The second notable thing was that there was a very tiny fruit stand just outside of the restaurant selling a papaya like fruit and avocados.  They were not normal avocados, at least normal by my standards.  They were actually the size of half my head.

We had known beforehand that this school had a number of decent musicians already.  Therefore we were not surprised when we found we could quite easily sightread flute quartets.  I personally have no notable stories about this school, except that one of our Costa Rican French Horn players conducted beautifully.  I almost cried.

More later.  We are going bowling now!