Two hillsides separated by 50 years rushed into my mind during a Monday morning prompt in Poets and Writers’ The Time Is Now group. We were asked to think of a place to which we couldn’t easily give directions. While many in the group gave imaginary places such as in a dream, my places were real. During the 15 minutes of writing time, I mainly described what each place looked like and the context in which I was there, but I soon realized that each of those places foreshadowed important aspects of my life.
The first hillside was a neatly trimmed grass hill that gently sloped up to the youngest campers’ cabin at Belgian Village Camp in Cummington, Massachusetts. I was 13 years old and had been given a full scholarship to attend. I would be a regular camper in the oldest group, able to participate in all the activities. In return I was to lead creative dance classes for the younger campers. Belgian Village Camp was founded in 1948. I remember two of the owners, Mary Beasley who taught at Dalton School and Berta Carlson who admired the poet William Cullen Bryant. William Cullen Bryant was born in Cummington in 1794.
The camp had a lovely theater with just the right size stage for performing, and I remember having fun playfully leading the younger campers, particularly ages five to eight, with leaping, waving scarves, and making up stories in dance. This was my first teaching experience, and most of the material was based on what I had learned in the creative moment classes of Genevieve Jones. Toward the end of the six-week season, we created a piece about a toy store, which we performed for the older campers.
The counselor of the youngest group lived in a separate room of the campers’ cabin. I would climb up the gentle hill in my free time or the early evenings to visit with her. She provided suggestions on how to lead my classes with the younger campers.
Looking back, I realize that teaching came naturally to me. Leading workshops and teaching have been a core part of my life since I was 13. Recently I led a workshop at my home in Costa Rica using the labyrinth in the garden as the prompt for activities.
The second hill that came to mind was from many years later when Murray and I traveled to Costa Rica to visit Rara Avis Rainforest Lodge and Reserve. Rara Avis introduced the concept of ecotourism as a conservation tool to Costa Rica in 1983. We visited in the late 1980s. We flew into the San Jose airport and spent the first night in a bed-and-breakfast near the airport. The next morning a cab picked us up, and an hour and a half later we arrived at Las Horquelas where the tractor to Rara Avis departed at 9 a.m. It then took us three hours on a path just big enough for the tractor, with mud sides that sometimes reached halfway up the sides of the tractor. About six of us climbed aboard for the nine-mile ride through the rainforest. Once at the Reserve, we registered and had lunch around a big table that seated all the current guests. After lunch we were escorted to our room at the top of the long grassy hill. About eight cottages made a semicircle around the edge of the hill. Our sweet cottage was at the top and had a hammock on the porch, as well as hot water and a toilet. In looking at information online, I see guests now stay in a lodge rather than individual cabins. What I remember is this open, grassy hill surrounded by the cabins, with the kitchen and dining area at the bottom, and trails that led into the rainforest. We enjoyed the nature hikes and learned much and got our first introduction to the busy cutter ants. We learned not to put our hands on a tree, as one never knows what one might encounter. A favorite short hike took us to La Catarata Waterfall which is a “180-foot cascada that cuts a brilliant, white path through the dense, emerald forest.” https://www.costarica.com/attractions/rara-avis-reserve
I have vivid memories of quietly sitting there and photographing the beautiful blue morpho butterflies. Later I would go on to paint them.
That was our first introduction to Costa Rica. If you have been following this blog you know that we moved here with eight suitcases at the beginning of 2020 right before COVID would have kept us from traveling. And now Costa Rica is my home.
While I didn’t exactly follow the writing prompt – as I CAN describe how to find these places – they no longer exist exactly as I remember them. Both hillsides were indeed hints of what my life would be like in later years. What fun it is to see what ideas emerge from writing prompts.
