Money, even a little, is power

Posted on by stanleyobando

Right before I started the Daily Boost last year, I stumbled upon the Alma Artesana shop in Curridabat and fell in love with its mission of helping individual artisans make it as a group. I realized how important it was to buy my Christmas presents there instead of ordering things on Amazon to await my arrival in the States, as I sometimes have in the past. The shop, featured in an early post, awakened a new interest in shopping local.

From Alma Artesana via Instagram

Over the subsequent months, I got out to more farmer’s markets, an incredible family pasta shop, independent bookstores and neighborhood shops. I learned about Local Keeps, which connects lots of Costa Rican “makers” to international customers. I wrote about lots of artists: Raudyn Alfaro, Vivian Víquez of Corteza, Francisco Munguía, Priscilla Aguirre, Carolina Rodríguez of Chepeart, the street art platform Costa Rica en la Pared, No Estamos Todas, and many more. However, things really shot into a new gear with the global pandemic. Like so many other consumers around the world, I realized that every dollar I spend supports somebody. Sometimes, it’s a gazillionaire in a castle made of gold bricks, and that’s just the way that is. Whenever possible, though, we can try to support the person who’s on the other side of the counter or bank transfer.

I also realized that incremental changes are ok. They’ve had to be, during a year this overwhelming and with this many economic challenges. But the weekly box of veggies that arrives now on Sundays from a local farm: that helps. The meals we order from a rotating circle of the neighborhood restaurants we’re most worried about: that helps. Somehow, 2020 helped shake loose some of the guilt I used to feel about responsible spending and make me realize that hey, any dollar (or colón) redirected to a better recipient is a win. So just focus on your wins.

My family went back to Alma Artesana a few days ago for the first time in awhile. I went in for cloth face masks, but we ended up lingering much longer than we meant to, thrilled by the store’s gorgeous new location (just south of the McDonald’s across from Plaza del Sol, if you’re in the neighborhood), and the amazing work of the craftspeople it represents. While every product in the store and every woman working there has a story of stress and 2020 trouble, it was inspiring – and a huge relief – to see them surviving and maybe even thriving.

I think the newfound consciousness so many of us have gained about the power of our money, even just a dollar, might help more success stories come true as we emerge.

By Vivian Víquez, of Corteza

I’m a writer in San José, Costa Rica, on a year-long quest to share daily posts on inspiring people, places and ideas from my adopted home as a kind of tonic during a rough time in the world. Sign up (top right of this page) to receive a little dose of inspiration every weekday in your mailbox; tell a friend; check out past posts; learn how to join my Overwhelmed Writers’ League, every Saturday at 1 pm EST; and please connect with me on Instagram or Facebook! To learn more about how to support Costa Rica during the crisis, visit my COVID-19 section – or for ways to enjoy Costa Rica from afar, visit Virtual Costa Rica.

The world’s saddest and most beautiful Instagram account

Posted on by stanleyobando

Today marks two years since my father’s death. These 24 months have convinced me more than ever that, if we loved well, we leave behind an almost physical presence when we die – an influence on the minds and memories of others that continues to affect the way they move through the world for years to come.

That’s why the No Estamos Todas project (Not All of Us Are Here) and its account on Instagram or Facebook is both heartbreaking and unmissable. It takes the faces of women whose lives were cut short and brings them into our day-to-day existence: the Mexico-based project invites artists from around the world to create illustrations of the victims of feminicides and transfeminicides. Yendry, from Limón, just 16 years old. Jessica, from Puntarenas, 36. Alejandra, from Cartago, 27. And on and on they go, from Costa Rica, from Mexico, from place after place and town after town.

Angelica and Karla, Mexico. No Estamos Todas via Instagram.

It’s brutal, and yet: scrolling through No Estamos Todas reminds you of the love that remains. The fact that so many talented artists, some who knew the women, some who didn’t, have pored over their stories and worked hard to capture their essence, is in itself an antidote to the feeling of helplessness that is so dangerous when it comes to this issue.

Yendry. Limón. 16 years old. No Estamos Todas via Instagram.

Some of the portraits are solemn, but not all. Look again at Nicole, from Argentina, just 21. She makes me want to cry, but she also makes me smile. She makes it impossible to wallow. She makes the viewer want to do something in her honor. Tramp through the streets in the next protest. Hike over mountains and see the world.

Nicole, Argentina.

It is comforting, somehow, to know that these women left something behind. Inspiration. Gumption. Most of all, love. But these portraits also show us the power of the living, and the responsibility we bear every morning that we wake up, still breathing. Because if love can be this powerful after death, imagine what we can accomplish while we are still here to paint, draw, write, speak, shout, march and vote.

Jessica. Puntarenas, Costa Rica. No Estamos Todas via Instagram.

That’s what these artists are reminding us. They are building a sisterhood where none existed. They are choosing to show love to people most of them didn’t even know.

Ingrid. Mexico.

That’s what all of us can do when, with every day that passes, we choose the people we honor, even through as something as small as a pause in our scrolling, a smile, a little prayer. A vow to a woman holding flowers in the same valley where I live with my daughter. A promise to an Argentinean, barely more than a girl, charging forward into the world with a bravery we’ve seen in our own children’s faces. A scrambling, passionate resolve to make this stop. To remember them. To love on their behalf, knowing love’s our only legacy.

María Alejandra, Cartago.

I’m a writer in San José, Costa Rica, on a year-long quest to share daily posts on inspiring people, places and ideas from my adopted home as a kind of tonic during a rough time in the world. Sign up (top right of this page) to receive a little dose of inspiration every weekday in your mailbox; tell a friend; check out past posts; and please connect with me on Instagram or Facebook! Each month in 2020 has a monthly theme, and February’s is marriage equality, so scroll back through the month to see several posts highlighting people and organizations working on behalf of this issue in Costa Rica. 

 

Day 18: Did a British pharmacy* just change my life?

Posted on by stanleyobando

You know how we scroll on and on through our social media feeds or news pages, searching vaguely for some kind of relief? You know how, secretly, we’re hoping we’ll come across the one post or bit of information that will make us feel better? It’s a terrible drain on our mental health and physical energy – most of the time.

Occasionally, we really do come across something that reorders our brain cells and jolts us into action.

“What are you doing?” my husband said when I still hadn’t turned out the light at midnight a few evenings ago.

“Writing poetry!” I replied, just as bemused as he was.

A few hours before, I’d come across news of the grand opening of the Poetry Pharmacy in Bishop’s Castle, England, where the weary of heart can find solace in words. Poet Deborah Alma used to drive a Poetry Ambulance, as one does, but she raised funds on Kickstarter to renovate a high street property and create a permanent space where visitors can get recommendations for literary comfort, browse books and art, attend workshops and more. You can even get little bottles of “pills” full of perfect phrases waiting to be unfurled when you need them most. She says the idea began when, during long talks at her kitchen table, she saw how friends loved hearing just the right verse for their predicament, and realized others might benefit from something similar.

For some reason, this idea was like a match to kindling in my brain. It echoed everything I’ve been thinking lately about the magic of bookstores and the power of words. I wanted so badly to walk into that cozy space. I wanted a Poetry Pharmacy on my block right this minute. I especially wished I could set up a card table in a corner, set pen to paper and try out some improvised spirit-lifting. In minutes, I found myself hanging out yet another virtual shingle inspired by Deborah’s shop: Poems on Demand.

This latest challenge I’m setting for myself during my Year of Living (more) CostaRican-ly is to let myself be small. To relax and play, simply because I feel like it. To write something no bigger than an Instagram square; no more ambitious than “let’s have fun”; no more polished than “totally unpolished”; and no more organized than “send me any topic you want and I have to write about it.” Great Thunberg. Crickets. Reality star and activist Jonathan Van Ness. A vegan having a sudden craving at the meat counter.

So far, I’ve been scribbling with more glee than I have in more than a decade. I hope that you will send in a request or two (silly, grandiose, mundane or obscure) and follow along on Instagram or Twitter. I’ll add a fresh batch of little poems to the website every so often. Stay tuned, because as I was writing this, I got two new requests that will really test my mettle. One of them may involve radioactive peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but you didn’t hear it from me.

Have you ever been ignited by a stranger’s idea before? Have you ever fallen down a rabbit hole of a new hobby or lark that made you happy? Do you use poetry to boost your mental health? Do you want to fly to England with me tomorrow and go to Bishop’s Castle? So many questions.

Let me know what you think. And thank you, Deborah Alma and your Kickstarter Donors, for creating a place so comforting that it can resonate across the sea. I started the Daily Boost because I believe that my adopted country is full of inspiration that deserves to be shared, but you reminded me this week that, by the same token, the world is full of great ideas that can strike our fancy at any moment, borders and oceans be damned.

May your customers be many.

I’m a writer in San José, Costa Rica, on a year-long quest to share daily posts on inspiring people, places and ideas from my adopted home as a kind of tonic during a rough time in the world. Sign up (top right of this page) to receive a little dose of inspiration every weekday in your mailbox; tell a friend; check out past posts; and please connect with me on Instagram or Facebook! You can also find me churning out small, square poems on any topic under the sun (here on the site, on Instagram or Twitter). 

Day 17: Words that knock down tyrants

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On Sunday, a woman literally leapt over hurdles to make history. Today, I invite you to meet a group of artists who blazed their trail on the page. This year, they created an anthology written, edited and illustrated by women working in concert to tackle a single theme, the first anthology of its kind in Costa Rica. The result was “Mi desamor es una dulzura invaluable” (a title that actually started out in English as “My Sweet Unlove Remembered Such Wealth Brings,” inspired by Shakespeare’s Sonnet 29).

I got to hear some of the women behind this project talk about their book – which united rising stars in playwriting, poetry, fiction and journalism, along with illustrator Alejandra Montero Agüero – at a Librería Internacional over the weekend. As I listened, I felt myself filling with questions: how is it possible that this was the first all-female project of its kind in Costa Rica? Why on earth is it still so unusual for women to take up artistic space like this? What should we do about the enduring gap? When award-winning journalist Natalia Díaz Zeledón, the editor of the anthology, read her preface to close out the activity, she echoed some of those same thoughts. Here’s just a taste, with apologies for any errors in my translation:

Words are marvelous… in the correct order, they can dispel confusion, heal wounds and reveal new worlds.

…Knowledge, or so we’ve been told, defeats despots. Women who produce knowledge break down the walls that hold back the rest of us. Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, Virginia Woolf, Gabriela Mistral, Clarice Lispector, Maya Angelou, Margaret Atwood, Giaconda Belli, Ana Istarú, Valeria Luiselli… many western women have use their words to create openings to new worlds. Still, there are not enough of us: we can see this in bookstores, in the guests at literary festivals, and on the shelves of libraries.

…The #MeToo social movements and the testimonies of women don’t spring up from a sudden outpouring of dissent. It’s clear that those crimes have been hidden beneath a population that is unequal, that is educated to be that way… There is suffering that we still do not put into words because those who could use those words have not done so. That’s what true equality is about, in which gender ceases to be an obstacle to communication.

-Natalia Díaz Zeledón

As she finished her reading, I realized the answer to my questions had been sitting right in front of me all along. The answer is for individual women to raise their voices, and for more of us to do this in groups so that we can bring others along. What’s more, all of us have the power to help women reshape the shelves of our bookstores: by buying their books, by reading and sharing their creations. Every time we do this, we cast another vote for this kind of work. We pull up another seat at the table these writers shared on Saturday.

If you read Spanish, I highly recommend you check out this slender volume that covers so much ground and is beautifully illustrated by Alejandro Montero Agüero. Here’s to words that heal and words that reveal new worlds, all in the hands of brilliant new talents.

Who are your favorite women writers? I’d love to know.

I’m a writer in San José, Costa Rica, on a year-long quest to share daily posts on inspiring people, places and ideas from my adopted home as a kind of tonic during a rough time in the world. Sign up (top right of this page) to receive a little dose of inspiration every weekday in your mailbox; tell a friend; check out past posts; and please connect with me on Instagram or Facebook! You can also find me churning out small, square poems on any topic under the sun (here on the site, on Instagram or Twitter).