29.06.2013 – Maleku Community, Costa Rica

The day began well before I was ready for it to with breakfast finished and buses loaded by 6:45am. We started the long climb toward La Fortuna from Turrialba. The Turrialba volcano spouted smoke to send us off toward the warmer, more humid lowlands of the Alajuela Province near the Caribbean Sea. We made two stops along the way for restrooms and snacks. At the first stop I gave into temptation for a tortilla queso similar to the papusas if of El Salvador. Something of a large, savory, cornmeal pancake, it was warm and salty with crisp bits of cheese that soaked through to the grill. I couldn't finish it myself and what I couldn't pass off onto fellow chorusters I dropped to a small dog who was clearly nursing and looked woefully thin. Our next stop offered lesser options in the way of food but did provide some animal entertainment as the area outside the roadside store was inhabited by large iguanas. They were wild in nature but accustomed to people - so much so that one posed for photos and approached with abandon to crawl on my leg seeking food scraps. This time, I had none to share with my animal friend.

Our two tour buses divided into groups and split in different directions down the road, one toward La Fortuna, our hotels, and a day at the famed hot springs. As a lover of all things water, it was with some heaviness that I watched that bus veer away. But, in our direction lay the Maleku community near San Rafael de Guatuso, a indigenous population of Costa Rica.  Charlie had been in contact with a community leader on an earlier visit to the country and asked if they would be interested in having us sing for them. They enthusiastically agreed and took to planning a day with us, the first cultural exchange of this kind these community members have had.

The day began with a general introduction from our primary host, Jimmy, with time for some questions from our group. We learned a lot in a short time, including that they are one of three  "palenques" or villages, in the area that collectively number more than 600 individuals. We also learned that the government of Costa Rica designated a “reserve” for the Maleku people (as they did other indigenous peoples of the country) in 1977 which, for the Maleku, consists of 3000 hectares. However, at that time the Maieko were only inhabiting 15% of the land, the rest of which was controlled by white people (it should be noted here that anyone who is not a member of a native Costa Rican group is considered to be White in this context, including other non-native Costa Ricans). The reserves do not provide any legal ownership of the land or its resources to the indigenous peoples and are therefore seen as little more than a mark on a map rather than a protection for the people. Members of the community have made some protests on the land of farmers who own land on the reserve in an effort to garner political attention but do not feel they have as much political capital as the wealthier land owners. After all, it was only in 1994 that the indigenous peoples were awarded the right to vote in Costa Rica. We also discussed their efforts toward reforestation, struggles with the local economy, the social and organizational structures of their community, and more about their relationship with the government of Costa Rica.

Our group would have continued asking questions for hours but Jimmy insisted that we break for lunch, a simple but delicious preparation of steamed fish and rice, fried plantains, salad, and fruit, with a sweet lemon drink on the side. After lunch we were gathered again for a presentation that was prepared for our group: a short drama depicting a story from the community’s oral tradition about relationship conflict, domestic violence, and community intervention. It was a striking portrayal that we then debriefed with the actors to better understand its meaning. Questions about other aspects of cultural life for the community also prompted Jimmy to coax his mother into a song – something a chorus group is always keen for. We also discussed the impacts of Catholicism and the Evangelical Church on their traditions and community.

Later, some members of our chorus were taken into the main residential area of the community while others of us gathered under a thatched roof building to greet nearly 20 Maleku children who were going to join us in our concert later in the evening. We selected three songs which each had a simple, Spanish language chorus. For one of these songs, Somo Sel Barco, we also sang the chorus in the Maleku language. The children were delighted to sing the songs and asked that we practice them over and over again. We did so as a deluge swamped our rehearsal site and thunder cracked so loudly that we could hardly hear the music. Children seem to be the highlight of my time in Costa Rica... or anywhere, perhaps?

With a bit of time before the concert we were able to purchase handicrafts, dry ourselves after a wet walk to the bus, and take a few breaths or a couple minutes of sleep. We eventually made our way up the road to their community center which doubles as a school house. 

(A sidebar: the government of Costa Rica provided the Maleku with the building but does not equally fund their education or materials. Members of the community teach their children the compulsory subjects and also provide Maleku culture and language education. Some children from the community do go onto University and some are living in other cities in the country in various professional sectors.)

The space was small but bright with murals of local flora and fauna. It was warmed by the smell of dinner cooking in the back room which was kind enough to overpower the smell of the amp we blew during sound checks. We preformed a shorter set as the sun lowered behind the hills and the children joined for the final three songs. They, of course, stole the show. Any trepidation turned to smiles as they sang boldly into the microphone that passed among them.

The evening concluded with a shared meal between the chorus and community members who were able to attend. An exchange of gifts and words of appreciation ensued and a rousing circle of the Hokey Pokey (obviously) before bidding our final farewells and stepping out into the rain toward our bus and heading onward to cold showers and early bedtimes.

On the one hour drive back to La Fortuna I thought about the difference between cultural awareness and cultural humility. Cultural awareness has become a popular term in the United States to describe the acquisition of knowledge about “different cultural groups.” Cultural humility, however, implies that knowledge of culture cannot be presumed and that learning happens through individual relationships. I had concerns about today's visit and still have many thoughts to process about the experience – some of which I may at some point share in a post. But the people we met in the Maleku community seemed genuinely happy with the day as it unfolded and it did feel like an opportunity for mutual contribution. I will wager for this moment that it was a well spent day and hope that it will inspire members of our group to continue learning from the experience we were generously offered and make some use of it back home in supporting the native peoples of the United States.