11 Year Olds Driving Cars

Hola amigos y amigas! My time in Costa Rica was great--it was a lot of fun seeing the crazies from Damascus! (Everytime someone did something good, they started in on the Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole song.) It was also great to see my dad in action, working with the construction head there, Martin, to get the top floor of the guest center/educational building rebuilt--the old one had termites that had eaten thru the wood so they were reconstructing the frame using metal. Cindy and Cindi headed up a Vacation Bible School that was lots of fun, and I helped translate, so I felt like I actually knew Spanish. They also donated lots of supplies for me to use during the children's program here in Nicaragua, so that was sweet! (Or dulce, as the guys on the trip kept saying and neither Reyna or I could translate.) Kate (my mom) was in all of her glory as well, managing everything and translating. It was also fun being with Adam and Michael, my brother, whom I immensely enjoyed calling Miguelito, or little Michael, in front of all of the guys. On our last day there we went zip lining and swimming in the hot springs near a volcano...it was a rough week :)

I thought I had seen it all in Nicaragua, but there was something in Costa Rica that trumped all of that craziness: an 11 year old driving. The first time I saw Jonathan (the 11 year old) pulling out of the grassy area, I ran to go find someone responsible that could actually yell something cohesive in Spanish at him, only to find that it was actually not a problem at all. Martin, the construction head, who is his dad and who my mom also has a crush on (apparently it's ok because my dad knows about it, along with her obsession with Gilbert Arenas from the Wizards), taught him to drive--it's a stick shift--so that when he's not around Jonathan can tote the rest of the family around--his mom and his one a half year old brother Leandro. Jonathan's mom Natalia, who is 2 months pregnant, is also learning to drive, Martin tells me. I jokingly asked if Jonathan was teaching her, but of course I should have known--he is. Jonathan says that she has too much fear of getting on the main road and that she just needs to get over it!

So, one night Jonathan's friend comes in with a bruise the size of a baseball on his forehead (I'm not even kidding--it was literally half a baseball planted underneath his forehead..I had to stop eating). First of all, no one was really freaking out about it and finally Martin gets up from the dinner table to go look at it. He tells us that the kid is going to go to the hospital/clinic, and so we are thinking, good finally he'll get taken care of. Then we look out the window and see Jonathan peeling out with his friend in the front seat. Apparently all you need is a parent signature to get treated when you're under 18 in Costa Rica. The friend came to the gathering an hour later with a slightly less enlarged bump, so it was good to see that neither Jonathan nor the bump killed him.

To tie this all together, like any good story does, I was sitting inside with Leandro, Jonathan's one and a half year old brother, on the last day of Vacation Bible School. The kids were making bracelets using pony beads, and per usual, spilling them all of the floor. So Leandro, like any other 1 and a half year old that I have known, starts trying to stick them in his orifices, beginning with his ear and proceeding to his mouth. I was able to use my command form of Spanish to get him to look at me in bewilderment and in the process drop the beads. I pick him up and walk with him outside, where we are fine for a few minutes until the welding starts. Sparks are raining down over the side of the building, and Hallelujah for Kendal's last name being Sparks, so I begin screaming Chispas, Chispas! Again, he looks at me in bewilderment and waddles over and as I pick him up I wonder what I should do with him--take him back into the room where he can eat beads, put him in the front yard where he can get hit in the head with the soccer ball all of the kids are roughly playing with, or leave him here with the flying sparks. I decide to leave it in God's hands, so I put him down and Adam comes along a few minutes later, scooping him up and teaching him to play with a drill bit. Then I begin thinking about how in 7 or 8 years this baby will be learning to drive, and I say a little prayer for him and his unborn sibling!

OK, Adam and I are headed off to Esteli...see you folks in a couple days! :)