Bridge Year Costa Rica – Spring 2025

After a week of trying to pry out hints from our supervisors, we discovered our future worksites through a scavenger hunt led by Karol and Steven. Some of our initial guesses were right, including mine that I would be placed at the central tourist office.

I would interact with foreigners, collaborate with the local government, and be comfortable in the city center. I was already envisioning the cool air from the AC massaging my back while observing people outside in sweltering heat in a little cubicle. Not bad. Before I could mouth any questions, Steven informed me that I would be working somewhere different instead. The Escuela de Música Sinfónica De Pérez Zeledón, not the tourist office, would be my second home for the next nine months.

And so far, I love my work site. I’m fortunate to intern at an organization that accommodates my passion for music, and I would like to share some highlights from my work.

For the first two weeks, I transcribed physical scores (aka sheets of music) onto the computer through software. Pieces varied from full-on operas, which took what felt like years, and short guitar duos that took an hour. All the works that I transcribed are from an old professor who passed away and are crammed into three cardboard boxes below my desk. What makes this task fun is that a lot of notes are illegible due to mold and mildew. So, I get to use my harmonic knowledge to guess which notes most logically follow and fit the underlying chord progressions.

Once my work schedule was increased to thirty hours per week, I started to lead an English club every Friday from five to seven in the evening. Younger students would meet from five to six and older students from six to seven. These club sessions were the bane of my existence. I had no strong teaching experience or fluency in Spanish; my boss expected me to run a perfect classroom without any instructions. The first few classes consisted of awkward slideshow presentations that bored those who knew English and confused those who spoke no English at all. The hardest part of teaching was to create an environment that engaged all levels of speakers. I decided to focus on playing games instead of reminding them of school, and the club began to feel like a true club. However, participants dwindled little by little each week due to school finals and rehearsals (definitely not because of my teaching). I was adamant about teaching the club I once hated, yet as an anticlimactic conclusion, no one showed up on the final day.

Besides the English club, I play third trumpet in the orchestra, wind ensemble, and jazz band and accompany students on the piano for their violin or cello rehearsals. Right now, however, my work looks like Fudebiol’s as I am cleaning everything during summer break. While scraping paint off of chairs is oddly satisfying, I look forward to going back to my usual tasks once students return.