For now over 75 years, The Baylor Line has been publishing vivid storytelling from across the Baylor Family. I don’t think our archives full of deep, inspirational features should live solely on shelves, so we are bringing them back to life in BL Classics. In this Classic article from May 1990, six Baylor students recount trading spring break beaches for shovels, building homes with Habitat for Humanity in Costa Rica. Their trip reveals unexpected lessons in generosity, culture, and purpose.
Spring break… words that break into a student’s weary conscience with visions of lazy days at the beach and party-filled nights—a time to leave behind oppressive homework, to sweat in the sun and sacrifice oneself for a bronzed body.
In March five other students and I spent spring break sweating in the tropical sun of a Latin American country. We, too, came home with sunburns to show off. But the visions in our heads were not of bikinis and beaches, but of shovels and cement. We went to work, not to play.
Eleven of us, six students from the Baylor chapter of Habitat for Humanity and five adults from Waco Habitat for Humanity, committed ourselves to building houses in Esparza, Costa Rica, from March 10 through 18. We worked with Habitat supervisors and Costa Rican volunteers to build the forty-second and forty-third Habitat houses in Esparza.
“Why are you going to work during vacation?” people asked us before we left. Our friends and family had difficulty understanding our intent, at times; possibly we did not fully understand either.
We researched the culture and climate and read reports from previous workcamps to the area. None of our findings, however, prepared us for the discoveries we made about Costa Rica and about ourselves.
The Habitat project in Esparza, supervised by Habitat volunteers Dick Stiefvater and Kay Brown Spofford, is Waco Habitat’s sister project. In the past three years, Waco Habitat has sent money to complete ten homes in Esparza. This time we sent ourselves as well.
“There’s more to Habitat than just building a home,” said Kirstin Eddings, a junior from Athens, Texas. “Habitat for Humanity is bringing the world together.”
Habitat for Humanity is a grass-roots Christian ministry established in 1976 by Millard Fuller to eliminate poverty housing. The first official goal of Habitat is “to witness to the gospel of Jesus Christ throughout the world by working in cooperation with God’s people in need to create a better habitat in which to live and work.”
The organization thrives because of volunteers who work side by side with Habitat homeowners to build adequate homes. The homes are sold at no profit with no-interest mortgages, which the homeowners repay over a fixed period of time. The home payments are deposited in the local Fund for Humanity, which, in turn, supplies money for more homes to be built in the community.
In Esparza we helped build two cinder-block houses. John Durham, a Waco junior, noted that if we built those same houses in the United States, many people would consider them substandard. But the standard of living in Costa Rica is lower than that of the United States. A typical house Habitat works to eliminate is made of old zinc or wood walls, a zinc roof that leaks, a dirt floor, and a pit latrine out back. In a country like Costa Rica, where housing expectations are different, a two-bedroom, one-bath house with a concrete floor is a step up for many families of six.
Compared to its Central American neighbors, though, Costa Rica is a wealthy nation. While Nicaragua has a gap between the rich and the poor, Costa Rica is developing a solid middle class. In Guatemala, 75 to 90 percent of the population live in adobe houses with dirt floors and heavy tile roofs that tend to collapse during earthquakes. The housing norm in Costa Rica, on the other hand, has shifted toward solid, earthquake-proof structures with tile floors and decorative stucco walls.
Since disbanding their army in 1948, the Costa Rican government has established a successful housing program to combat poverty housing. But not every needy family is eligible, explained Habitat volunteer Kay Brown Spofford. The government works primarily with people who own their own land and earn approximately $130 to $520 each month. Their funding is limited, though, so their program does not meet the needs of all those who qualify, she said. So Habitat works to provide homes for families who cannot go to the government for help.
“We work mostly with people whose incomes are not steady enough to qualify for another program,” Kay said. “We also bump into the bottom levels of those whom the government reaches, because their funding is so limited.”
“We build a much simpler house than these people would receive from the government. We put in a cement floor instead of tile because we want to keep housing costs low, and we don’t stucco the outside. Some people don’t like that. Their ideas of housing are pretty developed here, but there is still a great need.”
Our group discovered that becoming a Habitat volunteer does not require special skills, just availability. Some of us left Waco with hands not yet calloused by the rub of a hammer. As the week progressed, however, we thickened our skin and developed skills that ranged from installing a septic tank to raising a zinc roof.
Habitat operates on the theory that technology appropriate to each country should be used to build so that the people of the country can continue the work themselves after the Habitat supervisors leave. Therefore, the tools we used in Costa Rica were powered by sweat rather than electricity; we just considered the change a part of the experience.
Our job was not to go into Esparza and tell them how to build homes but to help them do the job their way. We could have taught Martin, the mason, and his assistant, Mario, the finer points of power tools, but we went to learn, not to teach. Besides, such mastercraftsmen who can be artistic with a shovel and a trowel have little need for our “necessities.”
Cement mixers seem to be extinct in Costa Rica, so we made concrete their way: we grabbed our shovels and dug into the mixture of sand, gravel, cement, and water, turning it over and over in search of the right consistency.
I was struck by the irony of wishing for modern conveniences as we mixed mortar and laid block for the walls of Socorro Soto’s home. Socorro is a homeowner who works three jobs and keeps all her worldly possessions in a rickety lean-to made of old wood and tin sheeting. As I looked at her present home and considered her lifestyle, I wondered how I could complain about the cold showers and my split ends.
We worried about sunburns and minor concrete burns while Socorro worked without shoes, and Martin, without gloves. Martin and Mario frequently seemed amused at our attempts to shield ourselves from the elements with suntan lotion and work gloves, but I think they understood that we needed extra help to do things their way.
Our workday began about 7:00 A.M.; even at that hour we felt the sun’s heat and wondered how many Coke breaks we would need. At times I thought I could see the heat undulating down the Pan American Highway near our work site. We were grateful for the shade of banana and orange trees to break the searing rays of the midday sun.
As we worked, the children at the site frequently climbed up in the trees above our heads to pick oranges for us. Their gesture was indicative of the giving nature we encountered again and again among the Costa Ricans.
Kay and Dick, our Habitat supervisors, also have shared their lives openly and have been warmly welcomed into Costa Rican life.
David Stricklin, faculty sponsor for Baylor Habitat, described their impact on Esparza in this way: “They have not come in with an air of superiority; they have come in as gracious helpers. As a result, the affection that the people have for Kay and Dick is obvious—not just the Habitat homeowners, but all the people they know.”
Kay and Dick introduced us to their friends, and we were quickly drawn into the circle of comradery and acceptance. Homeowners showed us around their homes without reservation. The family who owned the lodging house where we stayed always had a smile and a word of greeting for us when we came in after a hard day.
At the birthday party of Habitat homeowner Miguel Calderon, we seemed to be the guests of honor instead of Miguel. His wife prepared a Costa Rican salad and a delicious fruit drink for all thirteen of us, at no small expense to their limited budget. We made valiant attempts to communicate with our broken Spanish, and we laughed. Precise grammar was not important; they appreciated the efforts we made. We, in turn, appreciated their patience and good humor.
For many of us, the Costa Rican children reflected the spirit of the culture more than anything else. At Miguel’s birthday party, he and others took turns swinging at a clown piñata until it broke open, spilling candy around their front yard. Of course, the children immediately broke from the protective arms that held them away from the flailing stick to gather all they could find.
I watched in amazement as Luis and Eduardo, Miguel’s twin sons, both went straight to their four-year-old cousin after scavenging the yard; each gave him some of their hoard. Then, one by one, each of the children offered the adults some candy.
Their parents had proven to us earlier that what was theirs was ours by inviting us to the celebration and serving us a meal. The children’s sweet gesture emphasized to us their willingness to share what they have, as sparse or as abundant as that may be.
With all of the news we receive of political upheaval and social unrest, tranquility is a concept rarely associated with Central America. But Costa Rica fulfills its claim of being the garden of peace and democracy. Rich in natural beauty, the small country wedged between Nicaragua and Panama ironically does not even have an army.
Abraham Lincoln once said, “Those who are at war with others are not at peace with themselves.” The pervading sense of contentment visible in the lives of Costa Ricans illustrates Lincoln’s point. Comparatively, Costa Ricans may not have a wealth of material goods, but they possess an invaluable attitude: they seem to be a people at peace with their plight.
Why did we choose to go to a foreign country to work a fifty-hour week during our spring break?
John Durham summed up our feelings when he said, “I remember getting off that bus and starting to walk down the dirt road. I was thinking, ‘What am I doing in this place? Why am I not back in Waco?’
“I look back now, and I’m satisfied that I did something that really matters. There’s a house that represents my hands, my work, and my time that a family and families from now on can live in and have adequate shelter. That’s a good feeling.”
