Meet Rafa. He has lived with all of his life until last night.
We are in Costa Rica wondering exactly what happened. But really we know. It’s gonna take a while to process.
Rafa’s Dad came to live with us over twenty years ago. He was living in a man camp. And kept getting fired from all of his jobs. I met him when a man building my fence asked to hire him. When I saw how Nestor held a hammer I knew why he got fired all of the time. I took the hammer from his hand. ‘It’s OK.”
He came to live with us. He got married. He had two children. We lived here like a family. Many things have occurred. We have been through a lot together.
Rafa graduated high school and wanted to go to college. I believe Rafa is an exceptional person with a high I Q.
His parents refuse to let him attend the University. We offered to pay for his tuition. He is now working as a laborer. He is now a laborer who belongs in academia. He wants to be in academia. I didn’t make this up for him.
His parents have moved to a Nicaraguan “hood”.
There is much racism here in Costa Rica. The general consensus is Nicas are not smart. Drunks. The women are loose. And they will never get anywhere. I have experienced a lot of racism dumped on this kid. And now I have seen it dumped on him by his own parents.
Unbelievable. They sincerely believe he needs to stay out of school. No education for Rafa.
I am writing this because Fisheyefarm.com is a personal journal.
I follow a blog https://idiotorial.wordpress.com. She recently made a comment about her education creating a separation her from people. She is from India. I guess that is one of the effects of studying. You separate from some and you are drawn to others.
I am not the kind of person who wants to follow someone who is cute and looks like a cat – on instagram. I am anti-AI. I want to hear voices of real people. View real art. To learn from humanity.
We are on this planet together. Equal. But we are also separated by the color of our skin. The money in our pockets. Our ambitions.
There’s nothing I can do about this situation. My hands are tied.
This personal story shows me how things really are. To put it lightly-it bums me out.
Like Bukowski said, “People are bad to people.” You can be good to someone. Share your home. Share your money. Share your time. And it can still go haywire.
Nicaragua is the second poorest country on this hemisphere. When we first came here 1996, I was aware of the families giving their daughters to the brothels to support their family. Or sell them for the one time hit. This is a hard world.
At least, Rafa’s family has come this far.
I don’t know what is going to happen.
Only God knows.
Crabs in a Bucket are real.
Fish Eye Farm 