Six Months in a Leaky Boat

Who knew saving the turtles would be such hard work?

I mean, obviously, there was the part about walking 10 miles a day - from home to camp, to the runway, down the runway, to the end of the North Beach and back, to the end of the South beach and back, and then just when you were soaking wet from the storm that hit somewhere between 1:00 and 2:00 AM, back up the runway and all the back to the house....

I mean I expected a lot of walking and a good dose of bad weather. Besides, sometimes we even got to ride bikes (pity that I fell off into a puddle 90% of the time).


But, what I did not expect, was the amount of time we would spend in a leaky boat.

Each day, after you've trekked (or precariously rode) what seems like the width of Costa Rica, and after you've made it down the runway without getting hit by a plane, you make it to the river mouth. I should add that this river mouth, which you will come to see causes quite the collection of difficulties and logistical obstacles, is actually man made. At the beginning of the rainy season, the locals dig a narrow path from the river to the ocean so that it doesn't flood when it rises. Then, the flowing water does the rest and it opens wider and wider each day. Sometimes it even moves a few meters over the course of a day - which is super helpful when you're trying to navigate past it, lest the tide be going out and wash you out to sea.

So, you (and probably three friends) have made it to the river mouth. There are supposed to be two boats (which are really more like canoes), but one has a hole and so is not available. Of course, the other canoe has a hole too, although it's not as big as the real hole in the other canoe, so with a little McGivering, you can deal with it. So, the four of you tip over the canoe to empty out all of the water that has collected both through the hole and because of the rain, and now you are faced with a major decision. The river mouth separates the North Beach and the South Beach of Drake Bay, and you have to patrol both beaches. If the tide is out and the river is too low, you get beached on lots of little shallow bits, and if the tide is high and coming in, the waves coming through the mouth will probably knock over the boat if you don't know what you're doing. Also, you should probably be a guy, or a super awesome girl (not me) to be paddling four people with gear while navigating sand bars, tides, waves, and Caymans (never saw one, but I was definitely navigating away from them in my head). So - do you do the North Beach or the South Beach first? You have to keep in mind where the tide is, where it's going, and where it will be in one hour - because that's when you'll be back to go to the other beach.

Theoretically, you can get to the North Beach from the river mouth without crossing the river, but it involves crossing a bridge, which probably should require a harness even in daylight - let alone in pitch black. So, crossing the "bridge" at night is a no-go.

So, you make your decision about which beach you will go to first, finish dumping out the water, and climb in - very carefully, one at a time. If one of you are too fat, or if there are too many people - you will have to take two trips. Once in the boat - everyone serves a very important purpose. You will need a bailer to bail water out of the boat with milk jugs that have been cut in half. You will need a paddler (again, a guy or superwoman). You may need someone to use their flashlight to figure out where the hell you are in relation to the river mouth (but, red light only please - so as not to disturb the turts). You will need someone to take off their shirt and put it in the hole then hold it down with their foot. If you are the paddler, you may need to stop every few minutes to bail water from your part of the boat too. You will also need someone to hold the packs of gear and make sure they don't drop into the river (or the boat, since it is now full of water). So you'll paddle and paddle, and bail and bail. You may be going nowhere for a while because of the current. When that happens, a martyr will have to get out of the boat and pull it for a bit, then get back in when it gets better. When you get to the other side, you will clamber out of the boat into sand that's wet and swallows you whole. You will ooze your way out of the sand and then everyone will have to pull the boat up to a log to tie it up so the tide doesn't get it. Probably, it will be too heavy and you'll have to dump the water out. But, don't forget to take your flip flops out before you turn it over, or they'll get washed out to sea. This whole process will probably take more than half an hour. And that's how you paddle a boat across the river mouth.

Unfortunately, all these pictures are in daylight - but just imagine them in pitch black, rain, and at 2 o'clock in the morning. If you close your eyes - that will pretty much sum up what it really looks like.

So, now that you've successfully made it to, let's just say, the North Beach, you will tie up your boat and patrol the beach. You'll walk all the way to one end, and then back (about 1.5 miles, I think). Also, it's not really a walk - more like 2 feet forward and one step back since the sand is so soft... When you get back to the holey boat, you'll untie it and paddle-bail yourself over to the South Beach. You'll then do another inefficient walk all the way down the South Beach and back (about 3 miles?). You may be making good time (each patrol is 4 hours - either from 8PM to Midnight, or from Midnight to 4AM), so you'll be a good little patroller and decide to do the North Beach again. You'll get back in the canoe and paddle over to the North Beach for the second time. However, the whole point of a patrol is to hopefully stumble upon turtle tracks, a turtle, or a nest (or all three). So, just remember, that if things are working in your favor, and you happen to see one of these on the North Beach - you'll have to collect the eggs and then make your way back down the beach, across the river, and to the hatchery - which, you guessed it, is located on the South Beach. =). And that's if things are working in your favor.

After you've delivered your eggs to safety in the hatchery, you will get back in the boat and navigate back to the runway so you can go home. It'll probably start pouring during this final trip across the river, if it hasn't already been raining the whole time. But that's okay - because you're in Costa Rica and you just saved 100 little turtle eggs. Pura Vida.

Two Gringas in a Ditch

Since I didn't have internet access regularly in Costa Rica, I let the blog lapse. And of course, writing a blog in retrospect is a totally different ballgame. So, I'm going to try to blog the trip in chapters, or stories, rather than chronologically. I might as well start with one of the many ridiculously strange situations I found myself in...

I love to look at things in a context that goes something like..."where was I a month ago?" and, wherever I was, "would I ever have guessed I'd be here, and in this current situation?"

For example, after getting back from India two years ago, I couldn't help but think, "One month ago today, I was in a temple in India, surrounded by my Tibetan friends, looking at the Dalai Lama...today, I am in a demountable classroom in Homewood, surrounded by my 3-year old "friends", looking at a boy's ass while he is trying to poop in the urinal." Oh how the mighty have fallen.

It's amazing how your life can seem so different from one month to the next, and the bizarre situations you might find yourself in.

Even when I left for Costa Rica, I honestly never imagined that I would be laying next to my mom/mum (I'm having an identity crisis) in a ditch on the side of an airport runway - hiding, of course, from the poacher arsonists that were lighting our canoes on fire. I guess I should have known.

It all started with a turtle nest...

After many days of finding no eggs, nests, or turtles on the beach, our team had found a nest on the beach and relocated it to safety in the hatchery. It was the first nest to be relocated, and quite an exciting beginning to the turtle-saving season at the Corcovado Turtle Project. However, the next night, poachers broke into the hatchery, found the nest, and took the eggs. Likely, they would sell them for people to eat - or, if they were particularly randy poachers, keep them to eat themselves (turtle eggs are thought by some to be aphrodisiacs).

Of course, as we set out the following night (to patrol for turtles - and by default, poachers) I was a bit on edge. Afterall, my head lamp was not likely to be a match for any of the machetes carried around by the locals. I should add that generally, the poachers - at least at our beach - are not typically a problem as far as being any danger is concerned (well, except if you're a baby turtle, I suppose), but nonetheless I try to steer clear of people who have both machetes and different opinions than me.

So, Mum and I set out at dark to meet the rest of the team down at the beach, equipped with our black clothing and head torches. Now when I say dark - I mean DARK. Like, no moon, no lights, no nothing. On a cloudy night by the beach, you can't even see your hand in front of your face. So, we left our little pink house, and walked the mile (?) to the airport runway. We picked up speed as we passed the airport/house with the dog that chases people, but made it to the runway sans rabies. Now, in order to get the the beach, you need to cross a runway. Yes, a real runway. Like the kind that planes land on daily. So, we looked both ways and started walking down the runway.

We were really early to meet the team, and as we got closer to the end, we saw something off in the distance. Naturally, we kept walking toward it - and we realized it was smoke. We got closer and closer until we realized that the smoke, and also flames, were coming from exactly where our canoes were parked (do you park a canoe?). Now I should explain that this was not a forest-fire looking smoke (as if I'd know), but rather, looked to me like an intentionally set fire coming from right about the proximity of our canoes. And honestly, tensions were high after the whole hatchery/stolen nest debacle, and who knows what people are capable of?

So, at this point, Mom and I looked at each other and then I did the next logical thing - ran to the side of the runway and sat in the ditch. Not wanting to be left alone in the middle of the runway to die (either by arson, machete, or being hit by a landing plane), Mom followed me into the ditch, where I promptly told her to be very quiet. She obeyed willingly for about a minute - and then turned to me: "Um, why are we sitting in a ditch?" Since I clearly didn't have a good answer for this, I just started at her blankly.

As I'm writing this in retrospect, I feel like the noble thing would have been to go to the canoes and attempt to put out the fire. But really, they were sitting in water already - what more could I have done, and the bottom line is - who knew who was down there?! We were really early for patrol, so I knew it wasn't the rest of the team, and that no one would have expected us to be there so early - so what were two machete-less ladies going to do in a run-in - spit on the canoe and blind them with our torches?

So anyhow, being the cowards we are, we were sitting in this ditch hiding from an arsonist we didn't know were there and a canoe fire we hadn't actually seen. Just as Mum was losing patience with me, we saw this dark shadow appear out of nowhere clomping along in galoshes. Next thing you know we were both laying flat in the ditch shushing eachother.

We sat in this ditch for another five minutes letting our heart rates normalize, then all of a sudden it occured to us how ridiculous we were being. I mean seriously - I was embarrassed for myself (still am, honestly). So we relaxed a little, sat up in our ditch and started chatting while we waited for the others. We started remembering all the snakes that live in the area and began to consider emerging from our ditch. Then, all of a sudden the fire goes out and people start materializing out of the dark toward us.

And, once again, we're laying flat down in the ditch - silent as can be - as the people pass by.

"Do you think they saw us?"
"No way - who would think to look in a freaking ditch?!"
"I dunno - maybe they heard us?"
"Wouldn't matter - can't see us anyway."
"Shhhhh....did you hear that?!"
"Hear what?!"
"It sounded like a snake!"

And as quick as we were down - we were up.

So, now that we were standing up anyway, and it seemed that all the arsonists had left, we channeled our inner Horatio Caines and went to investigate. We walked down the runway to the boats - and sure enough, there had been a fire almost exactly where we thought. Except, instead of being actually in/on the canoes - it was on the grass above them, and there were teenagers making out in the bushes.

So essentially, we traveled all the way to Costa Rica to find out that kids will be kids, and while teenagers may do some crazy things - it's probably not necessary to spend half an hour in a ditch over it.

And, after a good laugh, we promised never to speak of it again...

Somewhere between Nowhere and Unknown

So, as there is essentially one internet card for the entire camp here, getting extended internet time is quite difficult - but that's really one of the nice things about being out here. Our phone doesn't work, and as long as I can get the essential e-mail in and out, I'm good to go.

I'll start at the very beginning - our bus ride down here.

We loaded onto a bus in San Jose, which would take us almost all the way here, to El Progresso, a little village just off Drake Beach on the Osa Peninsula. The bus itself was quite comfortable, especially compared to a few specific Indian bus rides I can recall...

We drove out of San Jose, up into the mountains and through the "cloud forest" - you know you are somewhere spectacular when you are driving along and the clouds are below you, or passing by your window.

After about 3 hours, we stopped for a quick break and some more people got on the bus, including a young couple (about 17?). The girl was decked out with hot pink lipstick, a cute little braid, a denim mini skirt, and a bright tank. Put me to shame in my cargos, for sure. The guy proceeded to busy himself with taking care of everyone and everything on the bus - helping load and unload bags, collecting fares, etc. etc. etc. Mom and I are at a disagreement as to whether or not he actually worked for the bus, or if he was just that ADD. Who knows. However, after looking at the poor girl 6 hours later, she was hardly recognizable. Her lipstick and makeup had melted away, her hair was stuck to the back of her neck, and she looked just as miserable as the rest of us to be spending 9 hours on a bus ride without AC.

Soon, our nine hours came to an end, and we got off the bus at some unmarked section of road, where we were to wait for a local bus.  And by local bus, I mean that a local guy from El Progresso (or his son) owns a van and comes and picks people up for a small fare. So we waited...and waited...and of course it started raining. Soon enough, before we were completely drenched, the bus arrived and we got on, as well as a few locals who were also waiting. These locals clambered aboard with their wares - a box of ducklings, a propane tank, and some groceries. We followed them aboard, climbed over the tanki and duckling, and found a seat.

Then, all of a sudden I hear, "No Woman, No Cry.....No Woman No Cry." Now obviously, there was no radio on said bus, but there were three drunk Frenchmen sitting in the back with all their packs, bottles of booze, and a guitar. They were quite horrible singers really, and insisted on singing very American songs, with the wrong lyrics - or maybe it was just their accent. "Every sings gonna be alight."

We forded three rivers (probably the same river three times actually), drove through an hours worth of jungle, before arriving to the camp that will be our base for the next three weeks.

Simple. Rustic. Amazing. Believe you me, you wouldn't want hot water anyway. =)

Then, we moved on to our homestay where we sleep and eat. More on the details of that later, but here are some pics of our humble abode.

 (I didn't have the heart to tell mom her mosquito net only works if she's under it)

Rasta restaurants and packed lunches

We made our way yesterday to Maximo Nivel - the headquarters for the local volunteer organization. It's quite a cool place - it's an intercultural center which houses tons of different programs, in addition to the volunteer projects. Local people can come here to learn English, foreigners can come to take Spanish courses, and they also host a TEFL course (Teaching English as Foreign Language) so you can become certified to teach English worldwide.

A quick note on finding locations here in Costa Rica. There are really no addresses. If you're lucky, places are listed as "on Avenida Central between Calle 4 and 6", but mostly it's not even that explicit. For example, the address for Maximo Nivel is something like "on the street of the Bomb Pharmacy, 75 meters south, in the blue building". Combine this with the language gap between us and the taxi drivers and it's a miracle we get anywhere.

So we made it here and had a basic orientation yesterday, where they told us things like not to walk alone after dark, and not to flash tons of money around. They were nice enough to make copies of our passports so we could keep the originals safe some place. It was a really nice gesture, especially after mom pulled it out of her purse, handed it to the lady and a whole bunch of panty liners fell out of it.

This, of course, was not the first passport issue we've had. When I was at the bank this weekend changing money, they looked at my passport picture and passed it to Mom, saying she had to sign for the money. I was really confused until I realized it was because she thought the picture was of Mom, not me. How embarrasing!

Mom had an idea of a cute little Carribean/Rasta restaurant she wanted to eat at yesterday, so we got directions, walked two miles, to find that it was closed. And, since it was Sunday, everything around it was also closed - so, we walked back in the direction we came and got a pita.

Last night and tonight we are staying at a home stay here in San Pedro, and we'll catch our bus out to the boonies tomorrow morning. Our "mama" cooks amazing meals and packs our lunches for us during the day. There are about 10 volunteers at the house at a given time - mostly staying in a series of bunk beds across three different rooms built on the roof of the house. People are constantly coming and going and it's really cool to meet so many different people. As usual when I travel I feel like an  ass for only speaking one language fluently, as so many others speak multiple languages - and I'm not even referring to just Spanish.

This afternoon we had the orientation specific to our turtle project at Drake Bay, which I'm really excited for. Maximo Nivel has only sent two groups to this site so far, and we're the only two traveling there tomorrow. It's supposed to be one of the most beautiful and remote places in Costa Rica and I'm really hoping that in addition to some great experiences at the site and with the turtles we'll get to see some things around the area. Drake Bay is near Corcovado National Park, which is consistently on lists of best places to see wildlife. In addition to turtles, I really want to see a sloth. Also a jaguar would be pretty cool.

Photos!!

Just a few pics I finally figured out how to upload from my camera...

Downtown San Jose

 Avenida Central - where you can buy lots of bootleg DVDs and 9 out of every 10 stores is a shoe store

 And some pics from our long walk home...

Our breakfast buffet at the hotel - soooo good!

The outdoor eating area - so cute, but would be more useful if it stopped raining.

Good Tico food - chicken, salad, plantains, beans, rice, and chayote (my new favorite food).

There's been a gate change...

Of course, I can never quite figure out how to the photos up on these things. It certainly doesn't help that everything on this computer is in Spanish. On that note, you'll have to excuse any mispelled words, since the spell check is Spanish and is identifying every one of my words as wrong. Also, please excuse any missing/wrong puncuation, as it's all in a different place on this keyboard. =)

So far things have been fine, really. I few hiccups that all seemed to be related to airport gates, but other than that - itś been smooth. Of course Houston was having massive storms, including flash flooding and the like right as we were supposed to fly out, so our flight was delayed two hours - which included changing gates 3 times. But, we obviously made it to San Jose (in Costa Rica, not California, which is apparently a distinction I need to make to people) safely.

I did have a moment of concern as we landed and the pilot came over the loudspeaker and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, it looks as though there has been a gate change and our gate is currently occupied. So, we are parking somewhere remote and you can take the stairs and a bus to the terminal." Um okay. Will do. So, true to his word, we went past all the gates, anything that looked like an airport, under all the landing planes, and parked next to a corrugated iron shack. No worries though, there were stairs and a bus, as promised, and we were taken back to the airport - all in due time.

We went through customs - which was a bit of an issue for Mom, who refused to put her nationality as USA, rather than New Zealand (even though sheś traveling on a US passport), but they let us stay anyway.

We took a taxi through San Jose to our cute little budget hotel. Our room had a shared bathroom, but thatś okay, because we have our own hammock outside our room and thereś a great breakfast buffet.

We spent the day today walking around downtown San Jose - got lunch at a little local spot (equivalent of $6) then got coffee and a dessert at the Grand Hotel restaurante (equivalent of $15).

Highlight and lowlight of the day: a pigeon sat right next to our table for our entire coffee break and I held it together - well, mostly. Thatś my challenge to myself this trip - to get to a point where I can at least put up with the birds without screaming, crying, and running away.

So, I made it through our break without making a scene and we walked back to the hotel. We did see an iguana cross the street, which was cool - and I should note that iguanas don't turn me into a nutter at all.

So here we are at our adorable little hotel, resting up for the evening. Tomorrow we'll hit up San Pedro, a neighboring town, and then head to Maximo Nivel HQ, which is the company in charge of our turtle adventure.

Hopefully I can figure out these photos...

Turtles Here I Come!

So, as you may or may not already know, I am safely back from Bosnia. Yes, I know - I've been a bad blogger. However, wifi connection the last stint in Bosnia was difficult to come by, and after the fact, things seemed slightly less necessary to share.

Anyway, I'm on to new things now. Departure for Costa Rica in less than 48 hours.

My mom (mum) and I are doing turtle conservation for three weeks, with a few extra days to ourselves at each end of our trip. What, exactly, turtle conservation entails - we will all find out together.

We arrive in San Jose on Friday afternoon and have to meet up with the volunteer group on Sunday night. I made a half-assed attempt to find a hotel for Friday and Saturday night, but then sort of gave up. I guess we'll figure our minor details like housing when we get there.

Monday we will have a 9-hour ride to the Osa Peninsula (way south and way rainforesty), where the turtles are desperately awaiting our arrival and help. According to our informational packet (entitled "Extreme Turtle Adventure"), we will "be left at a specific junction in the road where another bus will pass by to pick us up". This sounds promising. No doubt, I am thankful mom has been diligently learning Spanish so that she can get us out of the situation this is likely to become.

I couldn't help but note that when I googled the Osa Peninsula and Drake Bay, the overwhelming comment was that roads are often unpassable during the rainy season. Another website said if you're going between May and November, you'll definitely need a 4x4. Good thing we're going in July, during the rainy season, and are relying on two different buses to get us there. =)

We "should expect to live quietly and simply in a small, coastal farming community" and will be placed in "very rustic, rural conditions, in a gorgeous, isolated part of Costa Rica." There will apparently be running water and electricity (huge plusses), but we should "not expect any luxury; there may well be no mirrors, modern plumbing or tubing." I'm not sure what tubing is, but I'm pretty excited either way. After all, if I wanted luxury - I could just go back to Bosnia ;).

So for the first week of so, I think we are doing a lot of prep work for the turtle nesting that begins later in the month. We'll be helping to build the hatchery, preparing the beach (who knows?), and doing patrols to register nests. After the nesting season begins - then....well, I guess we'll see. We're supposed to be in one of the most eco-diverse places in the world, so hopefully we'll see some awesome (non-birdlike) animals. Other than turtles, that is.

So, after three weeks of turtle-related work, we will move back north, where we have a 4-night reservation (ah, Living Social) at a Thermal Spa and Resort so that we can wash off our grime before fully returning to civilization. From the Osa Peninsula, we have the option of taking the 9-hour bus ride, or a 1-hour plane ride...I should add that said plane ride would be $35 on an 18-seater passenger plane. I mean really, did you have to ask? Imagine the views! Although, as my mom commented, "Yep Kris, those views will be great when we are plummeting to the ground for buying a $35 ticket on an 18-seater prop plane."

So, there's not much to report now until I arrive for my Extreme Turtle Adventure (does that mean extreme adventure for the turtles or for us?).

Nothing left to do now except start packing and try not to wear anything Costa-Rica-worthy for two days - which would be much easier if it wasn't 90 degrees here.

Sarajevo Classroom Experiences

So I have had some trouble getting on a computer the last few days, hence the drought of blogging. Plus, we have been so busy and only recently had any down time.

The last few days we have been working in a Sarajevo classroom for kids with special needs - autism as well as other disabilities. Local staff worked at stations targeting specific skills, and then we rotated through the stations with our child and a student from the University of Tuzla. The first day was a rough start - imagine eight children with autism walking into their classroom to find over 30 adults standing there waiting to make them work. Let's just say there was a lot of crying, screaming and pinching. And the kids had a hard time too. ;).

My little guy was two years old, and was definitely having a hard time with the huge change in environment. It is amazing how quickly everything you thought you knew about therapy and behavior management can go out the window in the face of a screaming two-year old. He cried and screamed through the better part of two hours. However, we did get some great exchanges with PECS to help him to request a break. PECS is a system of communication using picture items that a child will hand to an adult to request the things he wants or needs. Although it may sound like it replaces verbal language, research shows that it does not - in fact it is shown to help many kids develop verbal language while giving them an effective means of communication in the meantime. So, we made it through two hours of screaming, but were rewarded with a lovely team dinner up on the hills surrounding Sarajevo. We got to see the sunset over the city and were able to hear the prayer calls coming from the Mosques spread over the city. As the city got darker, we were able to see the tops of all the Mosques lit up, as well as the glow from the new National Library, replacing the one that was burned to the ground in the war.

I settled into bed hoping the next day at school would be better.

We woke up in the morning and made our way to the Tunnel Museum. During the war, Sarajevo was almost completely surrounded by the Serbian Army, with the exception of the airport, which is located at one end of the city. The airport was occupied by the UN and they tried to keep it a neutral zone. However, Sarajevans would try to cross the airport to get out of the city and most were killed in the process. So, they built a 1/2 mile tunnel under the airport connecting Sarajevo to the zone on the other side that was unoccupied by the Serbian Army.

The museum was a nice look at history, and that tended to be the theme of the day. It's amazing to think that a city the size of Pittsburgh was essentially surrounded and under siege for almost four years, and what the people went through. However, there are two sides to every story, and I know very little about the other side of the story.

Since there are so many of us traveling together, it takes us a minimum of 3 taxis to go everywhere. The highlight of my day on Thursday was taxi drivers. A local man drove a group of us from the museum to downtown that day. He had lived in the neighborhood near the museum before the war. However, since this was essentially on the front lines, his family moved away during the war, and then moved back later. He took us on a little tour of the city between the museum and downtown. He pointed out all the lines separating the different sides, as well as important landmarks in the city. We saw the brewery where Sarajevans got water during the war, and the bridge on which Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria was killed - contributing to the start of World War I.

Later in the day we actually had a taxi driver who was a commander of the Bosnian Army during the war and who had used the tunnel extensively. They both talked about the different cultures and religions that currently coexist in Sarajevo. The second taxi driver said that he was Catholic, and the other two drivers with us were Muslim and Jewish. One commented that one big problem in Sarajevo was that no one could build any factories, because there are too many parties of people to please. For example, if someone wants to build a factory, everyone wants to know who they are - Croatian, Bosnian, Serbian, etc., and that nothing ends up getting done because nobody can come to an agreement. I couldn't help but think that it all sounded a bit familiar...

So after our history tour and lesson, we strolled through downtown, got some street food (cevapi), and made our way back to the hotel to set out for day two at the classroom.

Of course, it was much better than the first day. All of us and all the students had the hang of things from the day before, and although we had a different set of kids from the first day, things went much more smoothly, and there was a lot less crying. My child definitely had is issues, but was so smart and worked really hard at everything. I served as a much better teacher to both him and the student who was paired with me and left the day feeling like I may actually know what I'm doing from time to time. It's amazing how much confidence plays a role in everything. The first day, my confidence was shaken within the first 10 minutes of the session, and I felt useless and incompetent the rest of the time. Truthfully, I probably was - I was too in my own head to help my child or teach my student. But, being rejuvenated the next day, I was able to remember why I am here, why I love my job at home, and what I have to offer.

We went to an Italian restaurant downtown for dinner, then came back to work on our presentations for Saturday's conference.

On Saturday, most of us presented a topic to each other, as well as many of the students and therapists we have been working with over the past 9 days. I don't know about the students, but I learned so much from the other people on our team and know I will be a much better therapist next year because of it. I am really excited to go back to school next year with all this new information and with so many new skills and ideas.

After the conference, we walked to a restaurant in a park, where we had pizza for lunch. On our way, we ran into a Muslim family - a couple and their child. The dad was trying to talk to us in limited English - literally spitting out random words that he knew. Eventually, we found out that his wife was a psychologist in Kuwait, and Anna, our team leader got talking to her. Anna explained what we were doing here, and even as a highly-educated psychologist, she was so surprised to learn that kids with autism can be taught and that they could learn to speak. So, with that humbling thought, we made it to the restaurant, tried to avoid making out in public (see picture), and ate pizza.

Then, we took a horse-drawn carriage ride to a nearby park with natural springs. Sounds so nice, but I felt like the horses were so skinny to be pulling us, and our horse got spooked by a bike whizzing by and some stupid ladies who wouldn't get out of the road. So, I couldn't get off the carriage fast enough and insisted on walking the two miles back. I felt better both physically and morally after my walk, but realized I was turning into my mother =).

The park itself was beautiful. And, since the weather had dropped below 85 degrees for the first time since our arrival, we were actually able to enjoy it. While we were in the park, we saw a Muslim woman in a full burqua (although this one was purple). She had a little boy with her who clearly had some issues, and it was so difficult not to go up to her and try to explain about the classroom here and what it can offer. The classroom we are working in is really the only place like that in Sarajevo and there are so few services for kids with special needs here. However, I was so happy and impressed to see this woman out with the child in the park. As I've mentioned before, the culture in Bosnia view disability much differently than we do in the States and so many of the children are hidden in the house. It may not seem like it, but for this mother to have her child out and about in the park really was a big deal.

We went to a casual restaurant for dinner, and had yet another amazing meal.

The best part of the day - making it into bed before 11 for the first time since I've arrived.

This morning was our last day at the Sarajevo classroom - we ran two two-hour sessions for the two different groups of kids. As it turns out, the family of my two-year old child is from a different city in Bosnia (about 3 hours away) and had moved here to get services for this child. However, they have another child, and since he is enrolled in school in the other city, he stays with his grandparents and then the family drives the three hours to visit on the weekends. Since today is Sunday, my child wasn't able to come to school. This family literally split themselves up because the only services available were three hours away.

So, I worked closely this morning with the university student to develop some goals for our child and now have made it back to the hotel for some uninterrupted time on a computer.

Tonight, we are headed to dinner then out to a bar/club called Pussy Galore. Honestly, some things are the same wherever you go. The only difference is that here, the local women refuse to say the name of the bar.

Tomorrow, we take the three-hour bus ride to Tuzla/Zenica where we will stay until Friday morning.

Two cities down, one to go. I might actually survive this. =)

"Home" in Sarajevo.

Last night we made the bus ride from Zenica back to Sarajevo. I had to laugh on the bus when I realized I was feeling like we were going back "home".

Zenica home visits definitely had their ups and downs - but overall it was an amazing experience. We were able to work with both the current Bosnian therapists, as well as two university students on each team - modeling therapy techniques and providing feedback. The six Bosnian therapists are part of a team here that has recently become an NGO (Non-governmental Organization - basically a non-profit). Most of them have other full-time jobs and they go to people's homes in the evenings to provide therapy to the children. Some of the children have autism, others have other disabilities like Down Syndrome or cerebral palsy. The therapists are mostly speech pathologists, but some are psychologists, and they are all doing many different types of therapy. Scope of practice is a non-issue here, and I have to thank the COTAs and OTs I have worked with in the past for providing me with so much knowledge I could pass on here. These therapists have to work with the children and families on fine motor, gross motor, speech, language, swallowing, cognitive skills, school skills, behaviors, and pretty much anything under the sun. The concerns of the families seemed to be very focused on outward and visible signs of disability (i.e., hand flapping, squealing), and it has been a big challenge to help the families understand the benefits of treating the causes of these "symptoms" rather than the symptoms themselves. As we provide children with more functional ways to express their wants and needs, their screaming and other behaviors will decrease. I left Zenica feeling as though it had been a true success and it was so wonderful to hear that all the groups felt the same way. One therapist from our team works in California with older children with autism, with a heavy focus on taking them out into the community for functional skills training, and by her second day here had the Bosnian children out and about at the grocery store. The only real negative that there wasn't more time. Hopefully though, we have shared enough with the therapists, students, and parents that they can share with others.

Here are some pictures of the area surrounding one of our homes (about an hour outside Zenica) and of the Bosnian therapists going through all of the awesome things we brought.

So after three long days of therapy, we gathered at the hotel for pizza, loaded our 23 bags (yes, for 14 people) into the cars - and headed to the bus station. One of the SLPs in our group speaks the language here and we've learned quite a lot that we wouldn't otherwise have heard. For example, when one taxi driver called another he said "yep, it's a whole bunch of girls and lots of bags". And yes, I said pizza. The food here has truly been awesome (and cheap), but the pizza is spectacular. Thin crust, amazing cheese, and very little sauce. Who would have though I'd come to Bosnia and be obsessed with the pizza. I am pretty sure when I return, I'll be craving Bosnian pizza. Plus, they serve it with ketchup - the sweet kind.

We arrived in Sarajevo late last night, were assigned rooms, and set out to locate them. Of course, room 311 wouldn't be next to 310 or even 309 - or even in the same building as 308, so we had quite an experience finding it. We were directed at first to a totally different building across the courtyard, so we rolled ourselves past all the people (wait, did I say people? I meant men - since there are only ever men anywhere) eating ice cream (yep, grown men eat ice cream sundaes here on a regular basis) to the shady building across the way. We found the elevator, and when the door opened, neither of us moved. The 'elevator' was about 2x2, and didn't exactly look like it has annual inspections. After a look at each other and a shrug, we squeezed on, just to the have the elevator lurch six inches. Let's just say it was quite a scene to see us scramble out of the box, tripping over each other and out of the death trap. So, we rolled ourselves up a spiral staircase, up and down hallways, to find that every room number except ours appeared to be present. So we ambled back down to ask for directions (a third time) and were directed to another part of the hotel (in the original building). We finally found our room, just to find that the air conditioner wasn't working - in fact, the buttons were completely missing and the window was open. Since it's 90 degrees here and we were on the first floor, we figured this wasn't going to work, so we made our way back to reception where they informed us that someone would fix the air conditioner. We tried to tell them that the button was completely missing, but they assured us that it could be fixed. Sure enough, someone was able to fix it - by shoving a metal key into the holes and wiggling it until it kicked on. Oh thee of little faith. We cheered, and said Hvalla (thank you), and sent the man on his way (his reflective vest said "SECURITY"). Of course, the A/C wasn't actually working - just blowing out air, but hey - you've got to pick your battles.

We washed out feet in the designated basin, and went to bed.

This morning, Christine and I made our way down to the breakfast buffet. We were the first of our team to get there, and then realized we were literally the only women not wearing burqas. Now, today I am wearing cargo capris and a loose tank (so you can't see the sweat dripping down my back). In the grand scheme of things, the dress here varies and I've seen many people wearing tanks, strapless dresses, etc. But, as it turns out, we are staying at the same hotel as the Kuwait Consular Office, so all of a sudden I feel like a tramp. Based on the looks I get when I walk around, I don't think I'm the only one who feels that way. =)

So today we have a bit of free time this morning and then we work at the school from 3-7 (I think). This time, we will be in a setting more like a classroom, and are each paired with a specific child and a new university student. We will follow our child through their day in the classroom, and help them participate in activities, providing models and feedback of therapy to the current therapists and students. We do the same thing tomorrow and Sunday. On Saturday we are hosting a conference where we will each be presenting for all the therapists and many of the students from all three cities that are participating in this years program.

And with that, here are some photos of Sarajevo from our first day here.

In the back you can see a little green-topped structure. Back in the Ottoman empire, they were very concerned with hospitality and felt that water and food should be provided to travelers passing through. To this day, drinking water comes out of it. 

Markets in the old section of Sarajevo.

The Miljacka River, which runs the length of the city.

The Miljacka river, and houses on the hills surrounding Sarajevo. During the war, snipers held the city under siege from these hills and the others surrounding the city. The siege on Sarajevo lasted nearly four years (from '92 to '95) and was the longest siege of a capital city in Europe since WWII. Civilians were particularly targeted and the UN estimates that 50% of children at the time witnessed a death and 40% were themselves directly targeted (over 16,000 children were injured or killed). On the left of this photo you see construction of the 'new' National Library, which replaces the one that burnt to the ground during the siege.

 

Zenica Day 2

Yesterday was our first day of home visits and suffice it to say, there were a few glitches. Overall the day was just fine and there is no doubt in my mind that we are so appreciated here. In Bosnia, there is such a different view toward Autism (and all disabilities) than we are used to. Many of the families we are seeing are trying to keep any diagnosis of Autism, or any sign that their child has a disability, a secret. Many of these kids can not attend school on account of their Autism, so they often do not leave the house. The local group of therapists here is trying to find some space to rent for an office/clinic, but no one so far will help them because no one knows/understands/cares about the work they are doing.
That being said, an American on the flight from Pittsburgh to Boston did tell us, "I thought Autism was only in America." Looks like we're all a bit in the dark.

So yesterday my partner and I did two hour (that's a long freaking time to spend doing therapy with one child!) sessions with three different children , while the local therapist, two university students, and the parents watched. Talk about pressure! All went well, and we returned to the hotel for an Fanta.

My highlight of yesterday was sitting on the porch of our hotel as a bus pulled up and let off a whole bus load of traditional Bosnian men and women. The filed onto the porch, even sitting in the empty seats at our table - not like 'oh may I borrow this seat and take it over to where my fellow Bosnians are' but more like 'hello, I am going to sit in this seat at your table, but turn away from you so I can listen to the accordion we brought with us.' So we sipped our Fanta and listened to live accordion music then retreated to our rooms for a shower.

Dinner with the group was at 8, followed by a night out with our Bosnian team.

Bar hopping in Zenica apparently means walking down a dark alley to a hidden staircase, then climbing up 4 flights of stairs to end up in what looks like someone's living room. Now, don't get me wrong, it was amazing - but I sort of wondered when I was going to have to use the secret password to get in.

To fully complete the effect of being in someone's living room, there was a tap that you poured your own beer from. Yep, you just went up, got a glass and poured your beer. Then, at the end told them how much you drank and paid your "bill".

With over thirty of us at the "bar" on a Monday night, we were quite the show, and this resulted in us being allowed to sign our names on the wall and also in them cooking us food. And no, this isn't a restaurant/bar - just a drinking bar. But the owner took it upon himself to whip up some salad and chicken at 1 in the morning to feed us all.

Not that I think people here diet, but if they do, they absolutely don't appreciate the concepts of low-carbs, or not eating within 5 minutes of bedtime. Everything is served with bread (my breakfast this morning is literally a basket of really good bread, and a plate of spreads - butter, jam, cream cheesy stuff, cheese, etc).

So with that, I will finish carbo loading and be off for another day of Bosnian culture training. :)

Zenica

We arrived safely in Zenica last night after a one hour bus ride through the countryside. Now I am sitting outside sipping coffee (more like espresso) with a lovely view of the steel mill across the street.

We are at a little hotel called Motel Almy which is quite nice (we have ac!) with the exception of the stuffed animals in the lobby .... not just a stuffed bear or anything, but one animal eating another.

Last night we met the team here in Zenica. Basically, the company I am with (Speech Pathology Group: Children's Services International / SPG: CSI) did a training here two years ago, and one of the speech pathologists, Bojan, from the training went home and helped a child with Autism in his home neighborhood. Then, that family told another family, and that family told another family, and so on. Now, Bojan has a team of 6 that does home visits around Zenica. People actually come in from Croatia to see the team and have them help.

For our time here, we are paired in groups of five - two SLPs from SPG: CSI, the therapist from Bosnia that currently works with the child, and two students from the University of Tuzla. So the five of us as a group will see three kids today, in two hour sessions, from 9-11, 1-3, and 5-7 (driving up to an hour between each child). We then follow the same schedule and see the same three kids tomorrow and the next day.

So, since blogging from my iPhone is quite tedious and my breakfast just arrived, that's all I have to report for the day, but at least I can get some photos up today.

Bosnia, barely.

So far I have easy access to wifi, which means easy blogging, face booking, and e-mailing, but no great way to upload pics from my camera, but bear with me. So far it's been quite the whirlwind, and of course not in any way you might expect. To begin our travels (we flew to Sarajevo from Pittsburgh via Boston and Munich), we sat down and assessed our connections, realizing that we only had 60 minutes in Boston to get from one terminal to another (obviously complete opposite sides of the airport). So, being the proactive person I am, I went up to the desk to find out what our plan B would be, in the case that we would miss our connection. Of course we only had one hour in Munich also, and since there are not exactly hourly flights in to Bosnia, a missed connection would mean arriving at least a day later. At least. So, as I am talking to the gate lady, she asks me to hold on, gets on the speaker, and announces that the first officer was coming in on another flight, which was late. So, our 60 minute connection dwindled away to 30 minutes. However, being that there were no other flight options, we decided to just get on the Boston flight and then assess the damage from there. In Europe it is so easy to get from one country to another, so we decided if we could just get somewhere in Europe that night, we could get a train or another flight to Bosnia the next day. So, we get off our Boston flight at 8:00 (our next flight is already boarding) and the gate agent is already calling our name, telling us we've missed our connection. I asked him if there was any chance at all of us running to make it and he's all like "um, uh, well..." .... Enough said - let's go! So we take off running, with backpacks banging, wheels squeaking, and flip flips slapping - oh, and I of course am laughing hysterically because we are 'those people' looking like absolute idiots running through the airport for a flight we're not likely to catch. 20 minutes later, after the longest sprint of my life, sweating and panting, we squeeze into the middle two seats between two German guys who are not happy (along with the entire crew of Lufthansa) that we have delayed their departure by 30 seconds. All was well for the first three hours of our flight, until I woke up from napping light headed and passed out in my sleep. My last memory is of the infamous announcement "we have a medical emergency - any medical personnel on the plane please ring your call button". How embarrassing. But, Matt the medic was very helpful and brought me back to life. I spent the rest of the flight sitting in the galley in one of those flight attendant chairs, which are not, by the way, particularly comfortable. Miraculously, we arrived in Sarajevo in one piece and on time, sans luggage. I know I'm not the world's fastest runner, but unless that luggage moves faster than I can sprint, it never stood a chance. We spent the day yesterday fighting sleep and wandering around Sarajevo. It's really a beautiful city. Geographically, it's located in a valley between mountains, but the city itself is quite flat. It's really narrow, with one main street and river running through it. Now, I'm not an architecture guru here, but even I can see the striking difference between different parts of the city. There are the oldest buildings, from the Turkish-Ottoman empire, and then Austro-Hungarian styled buildings, all in stark contrast to the Communist-style housing. All of them are missing chunks out of the sides. As you move through the streets the stores change from little bazaars selling trinkets and tin, to L'Occitane and high-end clothing stores. Mosques and churches are mixed in between, as are hundreds of little outdoor cafes. In fact, many restaurants didn't even seem to have an inside at all - just hundreds of chairs organized outside and labeled with chair covers. We meandered through the shops, got some coffee, and made sure not to sit too long so we wouldn't fall asleep. There is such a contrast between people here - walking down the street you'll see a girl in a mini-skirt and heels, followed by a woman in full body and face cover. I did, however, have to stay outside the mosque on account of my bare shoulders. Slutty tanktop. The churches, mosques, and temples are everywhere. You can be standing outside a Jewish temple and hear the Muslim call to prayer from across the street. We returned to our hotel room, I washed my feet in the designated foot basin, then went back out for dinner. So far the food here has been quite good - not so different really, but it's always fun to find out what you ordered since the menus are in Bosnian only. The biggest challenge so far will be avoided an asthma attack as people here smoke EVERYWHERE. Supposedly, there is a law prohibiting smoking indoors in Bosnia, but since there are ashtrays as soon as you get off the plane at the airport, I am thinking this isn't widely enforced. After depriving ourselves of sleep all day, we slept well, had breakfast at the hotel, and then met to split up all our therapy materials for the three different cities we will visit. SO MUCH STUFF! We have 10 FULL suitcases of materials for the therapists and kids here - its so awesome! Right now, we are sitting and sipping espresso as I blog and send happy thoughts to the airport in hopes that my bags are there. We will catch a 4:30 bus for the hour ride to Zenica, where we will start home-visits tomorrow. Next time I'll try to blog from a computer so I can upload some pics. Love to all!

The Beginning of a new venture...Bosnia 2012

So, as some of you know already - Bosnia and Costa Rica are both in store for this summer. In Bosnia I'll be traveling with a team of professionals, mostly SLPs (that's Speech Language Pathologists for those of you who clearly don't know me well =)) to help provide some training, assistance, and materials to three different places in Bosnia, all relating to autism. We'll be doing a seminar, working with university students, and the best part - helping kids with Autism and their families. 


Check it out: Speech Pathology Group: Children's Services International


Not sure where Bosnia is? I had to look it up too:

In Sarajevo, we have specific kids we'll be working with, and I am so pumped to have a little 2-year old guy! Also, I'll be presenting with a coworker at the seminar: "Targeting Communication Skills in an Inclusive Classroom Setting." For you non-SLPs, BORING I know...but I'm pretty pumped about it!

In Lukavac, we'll be working more in "shifts" either in the morning or afternoon each day, where each of us will sort of host a center through which all of the kids will cycle throughout the day - meaning we will be working with each of 17 different kids each day with our own little areas of expertise.

We're still waiting for information about the kids from Zenica before I know for sure how it will work there.

So, that's all the professional stuff....

Now my rant.

I often look back on my wandering from 2 years ago and realize what a miracle it was that I made it across 4 continents, more than 7 countries, and god knows how many flights without 1.missing a flight 2.having cancelled flights 3.losing any of my bags. 

Obviously one person can only have so much luck...

And so it has already begun with Bosnia. 

I woke up this morning with an e-mail explaining one of our flights back from Bosnia had been changed (by two hours!), leaving us with exactly 25 minutes to connect in Newark, and get through customs. Obviously, that was a no-go, so I called Lufthansa, who explained that I would need to call Expedia. Of course, Expedia explained that I needed to call Lufthansa, who proceeded to tell us that the flight had been totally cancelled, the next flight out was full, and there were no other flights the next day. We now have all new flights, connecting in Chicago. Crisis averted, but I hope this is not a sign of things to come.

I'll just think of my little 2-year old waiting for me and it will all be fine. =)