Welcome to the jungle…and to life beyond the edges of the postcard.  As I reflect back on my first two and a half months on the tip of the Nicoya Peninsula, I realize that the terrain of this mountainous jungle is itself a perfect metaphor for life here:  many exhilarating high points with expansive and breathtaking views…all interconnected by plunging, hard-to-navigate valleys.

The postcard shows you the beautiful beaches of the Montezuma area with their soft white sand and picturesque ocean waves tumbling onto the palm-lined shore.  It does not show you the jellyfish that call these waters home, nor the blister-like bumps that formed on my arm after an encounter with a medusa* on my first afternoon here.  This didn’t turn out to be too big of a valley for me as all evidence of my jellyfish sting disappeared within an hour.  What will never disappear from that day is the memory of the exhilaration of being on a stand-up paddle board on the ocean and looking back at the exquisite jungle shoreline and marveling that this would be my home for the next 6 months.

You can find many postcards that show (in close-up detail if desired) the myriad fascinating insects and spiders that live in this jungle.  What you don’t see in the postcard display however is the necessary housekeeping in order to keep these fascinating and abundant creatures (ranging from annoying to scary) outside of your house!  A single crumb will attract an army of decomposers within minutes, so…dishes cannot be left for later, garbage that has touched food goes into an airtight container, compost is kept in the fridge until a convenient time to walk it across the road and toss it into the jungle, and crumbs are accounted for as if they were little nuggets of gold.  Because housekeeping is a constant necessity, houses in the jungle are very simple.  Lots of tile and not a lot of stuff.  This is not a particularly deep valley in our experience here.  More like one of the ravines that we traverse whenever we go anywhere around here.  In fact, it has turned out to be a wonderful opportunity for Owen and Quincy to really step up their game with household chores (and a nightly gift of one-on-one time for me and one of the kids as they dry and put away the dishes that I wash).  Nota bene: For those of you who will come visit me while I am here, you will be happy to know that of the 12 species of scorpions in CR, none are poisonous!  Scorpion stings here are much like bee stings.  They hurt, but unless you are allergic, they are not dangerous.  Still, my heart skipped a beat the morning I picked up my camera bag in a groggy stupor only to find a scorpion underneath, tail at the ready.

You definitely won’t find any postcards depicting someone coughing around the clock.  By far my deepest and widest valley here was getting sick with chemical bronchitis and having the worst cough of my life for 6 weeks.  It is never fun to be sick.  Adding to it the layers of being far from home, being alone, starting my teaching job, navigating the medical system of a foreign country, and coughing hard enough that I cracked a rib…made for a pretty miserable experience.  It’s also a boring story and not one I want to rehash, but I am including it here because it brought with it a high point, and that was the realization that I was already part of a new network of lovely folks.  So many people—from my coworkers to my landlady—gave me rides to the doctor, helped me find a sub in the wee hours of the morning, made me homemade concoctions and remedies, and offered me an endless supply of empathy and sympathy.  All of a sudden, in the midst of feeling like it was me vs. the jungle, all of these people reached out in their own way to let me know instead that we’re all here, ensconced in this fairly remote big jungle together.  And that I wasn’t actually alone, but rather that I already had a tribe.

One of the many cough remedies made for me

Tribe!

At the risk of using what has become a cliché word, the jungle is AMAZING in the truest sense of the word.  And everything seems larger than life.  Too incredible to be real.  Monkeys overhead.  Butterflies with glittering wings.  Leaf cutter ants on the march.  Horses snacking on mangos.  Agouti and pizotes and coatimundis scavenging.  Everywhere you look there is life.  Plants, animals, insects, and spiders doing an intricate and endless symbiotic dance.  It took me a while to find sure footing, but I think maybe I have finally fallen into step with my fellow jungle inhabitants.

In teaching, the goal is always to find the zone of proximal development for each student.  That sweet-spot that is beyond the student’s already accomplished level of comfort and abilities but not quite into the frustration level that is so hard that learning and growth become out of reach.  This is exactly what the jungle is for me. That place just beyond my comfort zone, the place where I can learn and grow every day.  My ZPD.  Too bad “Welcome to the zone of proximal development” just doesn’t have the same ring to it as “Welcome to the jungle.”  Still, from now on whenever I hear that iconic song, in my head I predict that I will sing, “Welcome to the ZPD” and be instantly transported back to this special and transformative place.