Incoming sixth-graders getting ready to start school in February got a pleasant surprise yesterday: Public Education Minister Leonardo Garnier announced that starting this year, the students will no longer be required to take national tests in order to enter high school.
Instead, the exams – now worth 60% of the overall score educators use to determine whether a sixth-grader gets promoted, with the remaining 40% coming from their average grades – will be given to a randomly selected group of students each year with the sole purpose of giving the ministry data about what students are learning.
Garnier, who made the announcement during President Oscar Arias' Cabinet meeting, held yesterday in Alajuelita, a mountain town south of San José, said the National Council for Superior Education made the decision this week after studying the issue. The minister said his visits to schools last year and conversations with teachers and students showed him that because preparation for, and execution of, the standardized tests varied wildly from school to school, they required a huge investment of time and money without providing reliable results.
Also, because students' classroom grades were worth only 40% of their year-end score, students and teachers alike were neglecting the sixth-grade curriculum in favor of drilling on test content, Garnier said.
Results from the test given to a random sampling of students will be used to identify students' weaknesses and design teacher training courses, according to a statement from the ministry.
Public school students also take mandatory graduation tests, called exámenes de bachillerato, at the end of high school. Though these exams are controversial and teachers' unions have called on the ministry to eliminate them, Garnier has expressed no plans to do so. |
A broken air conditioner producing “unbearable” working conditions led employees at Liberia Hospital's pharmacy, in the northwestern Guanacaste province, to go on strike yesterday, according to National Union of Social Security Workers (UNDECA) spokeswoman María José Núñez.
The pharmacy is located in a small, enclosed space that becomes stiflingly hot under Guanacaste's high temperatures. Its air conditioner broke six months ago, and hospital officials have said they ordered a replacement part from Japan to fix it but have done nothing to remedy the situation in the meantime, according to a statement from UNDECA. The Tico Times was unable to reach the hospital yesterday for comment.
In addition to creating miserable conditions for workers, the heat could potentially ruin medicines that must be stored in cool temperatures, Núñez said.
“This situation is very serious because in Liberia it is very hot, and the infrastructure of the pharmacy multiplies the heat,” Núñez said, adding that workers will continue the strike until a solution to the problem is found. In the meantime, patients are getting their prescriptions filled elsewhere. |
|
“I’ve been cooking gourmet meals for the whole household, but, you know, I think they would just as soon eat gallo pinto. I’m not going to do it anymore.”
The person speaking was a Canadian married to a Tica friend of mine. My friend and my husband had left us alone to speak English while they visited in Spanish.
“At least they’ve been eating it,” I replied. “My husband won’t even touch my lasagna, a dish for which I’m famous among my friends and relatives in the States.”
All right… those of us who live here all know that when we get together, we tend to complain about either the Ticos or their beautiful country. I sometimes imagine that when they get together, they tend to complain about us, as well. It’s normal, and despite the fact that I have been witness to a few virulent and unjustified attacks, in most cases it’s harmless, even affectionate.
Food, of course, is a prime target. Not only is it something that is extremely important to us, it is a source of numerous and compelling cultural differences, especially in what we eat, how often we eat it and how we prepare it.
 |
Always Together: Rice and beans form the staple of the casado, a traditional plate of the day, accompanied here by cabbage salad, fish, mashed potatoes and plátano maduro. |
Tammy Zibners | Tico Times |
A Gringo once asked me if I knew what the national dish of Costa Rica was. When I answered, “No,” he replied, “Leftovers” (referring, of course to gallo pinto). It’s just another tacky Tico-bashing joke, but it reveals a good deal about our attitudes. We all need to practice a little more tolerance. The Italians have a constructive saying: “Tutti i gusti son gusti” (“All tastes are tastes”). This means that the fact that I would much rather eat a crunchy stir-fry than gallo pinto doesn’t mean that I have better taste, just that I have different taste.
My husband, bless his soul, always claims that the crunchy stir-fry hasn’t finished cooking.
Food variety is another issue. I had a highly stressed friend in the United States whose husband demanded that each week she prepare exact menus for the household, with no repetitions. I wasn’t married to a tyrant like that, but I do remember always worrying about what to have for dinner that wasn’t the same as the night before. Those days are over! All I need to do anymore is make sure there is a sufficient supply of rice, beans, salad and plátano maduro.
And here’s the point. We need to understand that most Costa Ricans eat basically the same thing every day. As a result, their perception of food is different from ours. If theirs seems odd to us, ours seems odd to them. To them, it must seem rather like suggesting that we change houses every day. Why go to all that trouble?
Sometimes, my husband’s sons visit and bring boxes of pizza. Because we live in the mountains and don’t go out, I gorge. Then, as far as I am concerned, I have eaten. After they leave, my husband generally complains that he hasn’t eaten any “comida” (food). What he means, of course, is that he hasn’t had his ration of rice and beans. Until he does, he has had only snacks.
And he won’t hear of risotto a la milanesa or rice croquettes. Yes, even the preparation of the rice always has to be the same. This drives me crazy, but, let’s face it, there are worse things.
The rice-and-beans meal in a restaurant is called a casado (“married”) – because they are always together. The Costa Rican diet is based on this couple. Rice and beans are almost always present and usually form the bulk of the meal. They are often accompanied by some form of cooked ripe plantain (plátano maduro) and a salad, usually cabbage. Picadillo (chopped, sautéed vegetables or potato), eggs, a small piece of meat, chicken, fish or a regional dish may also be present.
In the Caribbean province of Limón, the rice and beans often take the scrumptious form of what the limonenses call, of all things, “rice and beans.” Here, the beans are cooked in what is called leche de coco, which is not coconut milk as we know it, but rather the liquid from strained coconut pulp.
Once in a while, there are exceptions. A popular alternate dish is olla de carne (“pot of meat”). This is a kind of meat soup, usually consisting of rib meat, potatoes, corn on the cob and especially large chunks of vegetables unfamiliar to us: plátano verde (green plantains), yuca (cassava), chayote (mirliton squash), ñampí (taro root) and tiquisque (blue taro). It is served in a bowl with rice on the side.
The fact is that, if it weren’t for the trans-fats – the manteca (in Costa Rica, this is solidified palm oil), the margarine and the highly processed oils – the Costa Rican diet would be much healthier than that of most Gringos. The combination of rice and beans forms a perfectly acceptable protein, free of the hormones and antibiotics found in meat. Add the perpetual cabbage salad and the potassium-rich plantain, and no está mal. Unfortunately, the lack of information here about the nature of fats sabotages the entire deal.
It’s also true that, when Ticos are not eating at home, they are probably out eating fried chicken, greasy hamburgers or French fries.
Too bad.
And just who, I might ask, is responsible for that? |