By Plane and Horse

By Plane and Horse
A Peace Corps Adventure

My Peace Corps assignment was with an organization called, “La Associacion Regional Para El Desarrollo de la Peninsula de Nicoya” in the province of Guancaste. Our office was based in the town of Nicoya. Our areas of emphasis included building impact roads, developing self-help projects as water systems, 4-S agricultural loans, and community organization. In promoting community action in the villages and towns, I was introduced to many needs and people.

One day a young man named Francisco Acevedo Acosta from a community named Garza stopped in my office. He said to me, “We want you to help us build a landing strip.” He explained that their problem was during the raining season, all the roads were washed out and the only access they had was by boat, jeep, and airplane. The airplane would only land during low tide limiting access. I told him, I would help them.

I flew in on a small plane, landed on the beach, and planned a meeting with leaders from three communities. In the meeting of some thirty people, I was told, “We have the land. We will clear the brush with the machetes.” But they need help from the central government for equipment, dump trucks, graders, and materials. We selected a group of three representatives to meet with the Aeronautic Board of the government in San Jose, the nation’s capital.

Earlier, I had visited Garza during the dry season and met Francisco and that’s how we got acquainted. He was a young, determined, and motivated leader of that community. He had done some preparation for the planning and informed the people of the meeting.

I stayed overnight in a home and was scheduled to fly out at 10:30 that morning. A white flag was placed on a pole as a signal to the pilot, a passenger was waiting for a flight out. At 11:00 a.m., there was no airplane. I was told, the plane is coming. I waited until 12:00 noon. No airplane. A kindly woman brought me lunch, arroz con pollo (rice and chicken), and beans

I talked to Francisco and told him, I needed to fly out that day, because I was scheduled to take the bus the next day to San Jose for a Peace Corps meeting. He assured me that I would have transportation out. He arranged for a guide to lead me out by horseback. At 7:00 p.m. the guide told me, he wanted to attend a dance and asked if I could wait. I agreed, it was not a problem. I even attended the dance.

It wasn’t until 12:00 midnight, the scout was ready to hit the trail. Luckily the Peace Corps trained me in Texas to prepare a horse for a ride, putting on the bridle and placing the saddle on the horse.
It was a moonless night. The trail leading through the wooded areas was pitch black. My friend, the guide told me, “Don’t worry. You have only two legs. The horse has four legs.” “Thanks a lot!” was my reply.

As we rode through a stream, in total darkness, I could hear the hoofs splashing in the shallow water. Then we hit a muddy spot, the horse sinking in the mud, and in struggling to move through the mud, I was thrown off the horse. Fortunately, it was just soft mud.

Later, as we moved up a small hill, the horse pushing up the hill, the saddle strap got loose and I slipped off the horse, saddle and all. Again, good training came in handy to a young Peace Corps volunteer, me. I rode on. It seemed like an endless journey, along trails unknown, trusting a scout I had just met for the first time.

The horseback riding in San Marcos, Texas, the long treks (40 miles) in Puerto Rico, the rigorous swimming for survival, the rock climbing, the early morning calisthenics and running, the soccer competitions—all these prepared me for this moment. Here we were, two night riders determined to reach a destination without a rest stop, not even a Seven Eleven.

Seven and a half hours later, my hide battered, my arms and shoulders shaken loose, my spirit was still good. The sun had awakened, it was a fresh morning, and my guide said, “Here we are!” I said, “Muchas Gracias!” My guide headed back to Garza. He said he could do it in four hours. I got on the 8:00 a.m. bus and headed for Nicoya.

When I got home, I had enough time to shower, have a bite to each, and catch the next bus for San Jose. It was another long ride, eight more hours.

As we had planned at the meeting, we met with the government officials in San Jose. I drove the three representatives in the jeep belonging to the Association. They explained the need, how they had the land, that they would clear the overgrowth with their machetes, but needed government help for the completion of the project. The officials promised they would provide the gravel, the dump trucks, the grader. It was a cordial and successful meeting. Two months later, the landing strip was completed.

When I drove back to Garza, I stood at the landing strip, with a deep satisfaction in my soul. A group of small villages, with self-will and desire, once isolated, now had access to air flights out of their communities. In the Peace Corps, when one can tap the will of the people, to work together, to overcome a struggle, to seek the proper resource, life can be a lot better.

May 31, 2010