For those that don't speak Spanish, Copa Indigena translates as the Indigenous Cup, and that's what it was. Note-soccer enthusiastic countries like Costa Rica pretty much assume that cup refers to a soccer tournament, not something one drinks out of. Copa Indigena, as I understood it, had two main goals: to promote athletics/healthy lifestyles among the youth and to promote communication, recognition, and friendship between the various indigenous communities in Costa Rica. Most of the indigenous communities live pretty high up in the mountains or pretty deep in the forest in Costa Rica. For two groups my understanding is that that is their traditional land, more or less. For the other five groups (there are seven recognized groups) it's my understanding that this is where they eventually chose to go/were forced to go/ended up, after colonization and then the establishment of the modern Costa Rican state. The indigenous population is spread across the country, so the Copa Indigena was trying to overcome these different obstacles and try to eliminate the sense of isolation/being singled out that many indigenous youth may or do feel. The first stage of the Copa Indigena was a traveling, round-robin tournament, where the men's and women's teams from each community traveled to the other communities to play games, meet the other youth, and engage in some team-building activities. All of these games cumulated in the weekend tournament in San Jose. Travel problems meant some teams showed up late, but eventually, all the teams showed up on Friday evening. We went into the gym of a local high school where the teams were staying (on sleeping mats in the classrooms) and broke them into groups, mixing all the communities and playing all sorts of ice-breakers and team-building exercises. I noticed that, the more I yelled and tried to get the kids motivated, my Spanish became less and less grammatically correct and the pronunciation took on a greater and greater Ugly American accent. Looking back, the same thing used to happen when I would try to yell at the refs in Spain when I was assistant coaching el Club Baloncesto de Santa Marta. Many of the kids were dead tired from early a.m. wake ups and spending all day traveling. But, for a bunch of kids that just met each other, they were pretty awesome.
Most of us were pretty tired that night, and actually got chastised at the hostel by some British blokes for not going out. Best line was when they said "you're only in Costa Rica once" and all of us looked around at each other thinking, umm, well actually, we're all here for two years. Saturday was a pretty cush day as volunteering goes. I tried to be as helpful as possible without seeming officious, but Josh had asked for more than enough volunteers, so we pretty much just hung around and watched soccer games. Despite all Josh's worries, it was quite well organized, and all there was for us to do was hand out water, lay the chalk lines, keep score, and kindly remind the teams when they had to play, go back for staggered lunch breaks, help serve lunch (feature photo above). I did my best to chat with the participants, but invariably only talked about pro soccer with the guys and most of the girls/young women were pretty shy. I was able to squeeze a couple of words out of two cousins that had only recently moved to Costa Rica from Panama (they were now living with an aunt/grandmother). For them, the trip was their first to San Jose and it was neat to talk to them about what they thought of it, how the tournament was a great opportunity for them to see more of Costa Rica, meet more Costa Ricans. Their team, like another one or two of the female teams, had just been formed for the tournament. Most of the communities had men's teams-which they selected the younger members to participate, but for some of the young women, it was their first time being on a sports team. And considering that, the level of soccer was quite solid. Remember, all these awesome new experiences and great life skills being developed had nothing to do with me, it was all Josh H. from Maine. Oh, and, during the day Josh was splitting up duties amongst us Peace Corps peeps, and I was all about volunteering for bathroom duty, halfway because I didn't think others would want to do it, and half way because I enjoy cleaning. Somehow, Josh interpreted my raised hand as speaking for Darryl L., standing next to me. Needless to say Darryl wasn't exactly stoked with mopping and plunging. Furthermore, among the various skills I learned as VP of the Kappa Sig house was a touch for plunging toilets. Said skill came into use, Darryl was only mildly impressed.
The big deal came on Sunday morning, when the men's and women's finals were played in the brand new National Stadium. It is important to remember that Costa Rica is a country of just 4.5 million people with a level of economic prosperity just 1/5th that of the United States, and to see their National Stadium in that light. I was fairly impressed, it has nice TV screens, and is pretty attractive/modern looking as stadiums go. Although it quite reminded me of the stadiums I'd been to in Changzhou and Nanjing (you'll understand in a sentence or two). It was just opened in March, with a
game between Costa Rica and China. Why China? Because China built the stadium as a gift for Costa Rica-because Costa Rica cut ties with Taiwan and established ties with China during the previous president's administration. I think Ticos (and the Chinese) prefer to see it as a gift rather than a pay-off, but either way, it's the third largest stadium in Central America, and by far the most modern/technologically advanced. And I got to go inside just more than a month after it opened! Legit.
In between the games and at half, some of the different indigenous groups performed skits or dances in traditional dress, which was pretty cool to see. Some of the skits had fairly strong and thought-provoking messages. The men's final was pretty solid soccer, so it was a joy to watch, and chat soccer with one of my bosses-Jose-who is a typical Costa Rican male-aka a soccer nut. As opposed to my typical weekends of review class, ice cream cones in the plaza, reading on the porch, and lesson planning; hanging out with a bunch of indigenous kids and watching soccer games in La Sabana (San Jose's main park) was quite a joy. 
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