Language Shame

Last week I traveled with a team from our congregation and a group of high school students from Gonzaga Prep to work with the ministry wing of Pura Vida Coffee. It was a rough week for me personally since I ended up feverish and coughing so violently for three days that I nearly cracked a rib. I hope others felt better about the week.

On February 12th (the third day of the trip and... full disclosure... in the middle of my fever) I wrote the following:

I know a few Spanish words, but quake at the thought of putting together a sentence “en Espanõl.” Thus here in Costa Rica I find myself in a place of dependence on others who know what I don’t. Far more of the Costa Ricans are effectively bi-lingual while I have arrived down here to “help,” and I can’t even talk to them. And far from irritating me, what I feel more is shame: shame that I have so much materially and have done so little with it, shame that I don’t even know when I am offending someone, shame that I am imposing myself on these people. I keep wondering what they think of me… of us.

I don’t yet know the average income in Costa Rica.

I don’t know what percentage of the population could stay at Colaye Apartotel without hardship.

I don’t know how many Costa Rican’s think $10 U.S. is a screaming good deal for lobster.

How can this shame become humility? How might I truly give something in the next few days that those I come in contact with need to receive?