Early on Monday morning, Paolo rose to the sound of thunder and rain, which meant Pilar would be driving him to school. Paolo pulled the covers over his head and closed his eyes for an extra thirty minutes of sleep.
Meanwhile, Pilar was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. She boiled rice in a saucepan and sautéed chopped onions and red peppers in a skillet. She added spices to the vegetables and stirred it with a wooden spoon. She added a can of black beans and chicken broth to the skilled and let it simmer.
After the broth had cooked, she drained the rice and stirred everything together in a mixing bowl. Breakfast was now ready, all Pilar needed now was a hungry little brother.
“Paolo, it’s time to get up!”
He quickly showered and returned to his room. As he put on his clothes, a sweet smell came from the kitchen. As usual, Pilar finished her breakfast gallopinto by adding sautéed coconut flakes to sweeten the dish.
She served it with a tall glass of mango juice. Gallopinto and mango juice were Paolo’s favorite things to start the day, especially when it was made by Pilar.
“May I have some toast?” he asked.
“We don’t have any bread. I’ll have to get some from the store this afternoon.”
“I can pick some up on the way home,” replied Paolo.
“Let me give you some money,” she said.
“How much do you think I will need?”
“Four, maybe five colons,” she replied. In Costa Rica, their money was called \the Colon, similar to the American Dollar, the Mexican Peso, or the Japanese Yen.
She counted out a handful of coins and gave them to Paolo. “We also need a couple cans of corn and a small bag of rice.”
“Do we need anything else?”
“That should do for now. I’ll go shopping later this week.”
They returned to their eating until Pilar glanced at the clock. It was 8:45, fifteen minutes before school began.
“We’d better go,” urged his sister.
They hurried to the car and Pilar drove down the mountain road to school. As Pilar stopped in front of the school, Paolo got out of the car. He stomped in a giant rain puddle.
“Pato!” scolded Pilar.
Paolo always loved rainy days. He often splashed from puddle to puddle as he walked. For that reason, his sisters called him “pato.” In Spanish, Pato means duck.
Paolo grinned at his sister and then closed the car door. Children escaped the rain as they filtered into school. Paolo waited patiently, lifting his head towards the sky. He opened his mouth and drank in the raindrops.
For Paolo, it was a perfect day. He took off his raincoat and galoshes and stored them near the coat rack. His hair was sopping wet and his clothes had wet patches from the rain.
Children took their seats as the morning bell rang. Paolo took his seat in the back of class, between Tomas and Rafael.
Senora Tagubase carried a small grocery bag to the front of class. She pulled items out of the bag, one by one, placing the items on the desk. She then used a pair of scissors to open each bag and empty their contents into the large bowl. There were raisins, coconut flakes, walnuts, dried apples, bananas, and pineapples. She stirred the ingredients and passed the bowl around the classroom.
“Buenas dias, mis pupilitos!”
“Buenas dias, Senora Tagubase!” greeted her pupils.
“What is so good about it?” asked Tomas.
“We’re all here, eager to learn,” replied Sra. Tagubase.
“Not me!” replied Tomas.
“Me neither,” said Rafael with a chuckle. Paolo joined in the laughter.
“How about you, Paolo? Do you have anything to add?”
“I like rainy days,” he replied.
“That makes two of us,” said Sra. Tagubase, “It helps flowers grow.”
“It also helps ducks grow, too,” added Paolo.
“Water is good for many things. Without water, Columbus would have never landed on the shores of Costa Rica. Does anyone have any idea what the world was like before Columbus?”
The children raised their hands and Mrs. Tagubase selected a girl named Juanita.
“Our ancient relatives were Indians,” she said.
“Indians are from India. We were Aztecs,” said Rafael.
“My father says that the Spanish brought slaves from the Bahamas to dig for gold and that’s where we came from,” said Tomas.
“We couldn’t have all come from the Bahamas,” said Paolo, “just look at how different we are.”
“Actually, you’re all right,” replied Sra. Tagubase. “The first Costa Ricans came from the Americas. Others came from Spain and still others came from the Bahamas.”
“Did any come from India?” asked Juanita.
“Not the way you’re thinking. When explorers crossed the Atlantic, they were looking for a different route to India. Until that time, they had to either deal with pirates in the Mediterranean or sail around the southern tip of Africa. That’s why they went west. Naturally, when they found Central America, they thought it was the eastern coast of India.”
“So we’re a mix of many cultures?” asked Juanita.
“Precisely, that’s why we’re called ‘Mestizos.’ Mestizo means ‘mixed.’ It’s what the Spanish used to describe anyone of mixed cultures. Today, it still means mixed cultures, but usually with Spanish ancestors.”
“Is that why we’re called ‘ticos’?” asked Paolo.
“Ticos comes from the word ‘hermanticos,’” she replied.
“Which means little brothers, right?”
“Exactly,” replied Sra. Tagubase, “It’s another word from the Spanish. Costa Ricans share many cultures, including Spain, the Bahamas, and even people from half-way around the world. The word hermanticos means we’re all equal – little brothers.”
“Or little sisters,” added Juanita.
“Ticas, too, Juanita. That’s why I call you my pupilitos or chiquitos or chiquitas or any word ending in –ito. It’s like using a nickname.”
“Then what was Costa Rica like before the hermanticos and hermanticas?” asked Paolo.
“Latin America was inhabited by Mesoamericans – what many people call American Indians.”
“Like the Aztecs,” added Rafael.
“Like the Aztecs or the Mayans or the Incas. The Mesoamericans settled all of Latin America. Costa Rica connected many different cultures, too.
In the time of the Mesoamericans, the people of Latin America shared an ‘Indian tribal culture.’ They lived off the land on an immediate basis, not yet forming a large-scale trading culture. The tribal men went into the wild with bow and spear, killing food for that day or week.
There were not yet traders who specialized in their own skills, like pottery, blacksmithing, leatherwork, weaving, or even farming.
Since the Mesoamericans had not yet discovered farming, they were nomads. They traveled throughout the Americas, often in search of food. Hunter-gatherers foraged (or gathered) food on a daily basis, too. They picked fruits from trees and gathered berries and nuts from bushes and shrubs.”
“Is that why you served the bowl of fruits and nuts?” asked Juanita.
“Exactly,” replied Sra. Tagubase. She reached into her grocery bag again. She pulled out packages of meat and cheese. She also pulled out a loaf of bread. She prepared sandwiches and cut them into the quarters.
“Here are some sandwichitos for my hermanticos,” she said with a giggle.
“When the Mesoamericans discovered farming, they also discovered livestock.”
“What is livestock?” asked a student.
“Livestock includes anything raised on a farm, like cows, sheep, and pigs. Instead of hunting for their food, they farmed it. Cows provided a constant resource for the Aztecs. They milked the cows and produced dairy products like cheese. They slaughtered the steer for meat. Then, they learned how to plant seeds and farm the land.”
“That’s where we get the bread?”
“Farming also provides us with tortillas, tomatoes, potatoes, and corn. When they learned to farm, they formed governments.”
“Why didn’t they do that before?” asked Juanita.
“You can only travel as fast as your slowest person, so it’s hard for nomadic tribes to be very large. When you have farming, you have the ability to create cites and towns. These towns have different needs, like mayors, policemen, and fire-fighters, too.”
The children continued their discussion throughout the morning. They also discussed how the slave trade influenced the culture of Costa Rica. The slaves weren’t only used to look for gold, but to farm the land. Eventually, the Spaniards left the slaves behind, and the slaves farmed the land for their own use.
That afternoon, as Paolo headed home from school, he stopped by the grocery store. He purchased bread and rice, like his sister asked. He also bought himself a pint of chocolate milk to drink on the way home.
He plodded up the sloping mountain road while he carried his bag of groceries. He passed a farmer and his oxcart as it came downhill. The oxcart was loaded with bags of rice.
The farmer walked beside the oxen, while they pulled the oxcart. He used his walking stick to gently guide the oxen. He nodded to Paolo as they passed.
“Hola, tico,” greeted Paolo.
“Ay! Hola, mi tico!” replied the farmer.
On the mountainous coast of Costa Rica, fields were carved into the mountainside. Rice and corn were planted on the terraces, using every available plot of land for farming.Paolo looked down into his grocery bag. He was both a farmer and a hunter-gatherer. He went into his house and placed the groceries on the kitchen table. Pilar cooked a fine dinner, using the things Paolo brought home to his family.
