Careers - Article six

The rhythm of life tends to be slower here in Costa Rica, at least to me. Going out to lunch will take the whole afternoon, and I can spend an entire Saturday morning lazily playing my borrowed guitar as I wonder how to spend the rest of my day. But I forget sometimes, as I’m floating through this little pocket of air in my life, that time is speeding by for all my classmates as they prepare to make the biggest decision of their lives. I’m in 11th grade here, just like back home. But that also means I’m a senior – the Costa Rican school system only has 11 grades. Suddenly things seem a lot more serious as the deadline draws closer for them to answer the question, “What will my career be?”
In general, people tend to know what they want here. Everyone always seems content with what they have and they make decisions quickly and happily. (Well, except for the other foreign exchange student at my school, a nice girl from Switzerland - she tends to be neutral about everything.) However, these past few weeks I’ve encountered an exception to that. I find people staring off into space, deep in thought, then turning to a friend and whispering, “What are you picking for a career?” as if they were confirming their answer on a math quiz. I joined the class in taking the classic “job-placement” test, which asked me seemingly meaningless questions in Spanish such as, “Would you rather: a) “Organize files in an office” or b) “Pick up stones from city streets” (at first the choice seemed far too obvious, being that I mistook the the Spanish word for “stones” for the very similar word for “babes”.) The scary thing is most people have already made their decision. They tell me they’re going into fields like “Public Communications,” “Chemical Engineering” and “Aviation.” At least that’s what they aiming for – not everyone gets to go where they want.
The college major system is a bit different in Costa Rica. Everyone here takes a test much like the SAT, called the Bachillerato, towards the end of their senior year in high school. All the possible careers are listed on a big chart, with a numerical value next to them – the score you need on the Bachillerato to enter that field. If you don’t do well enough on the test, generally you’re out of luck, and it’s time to pick a back-up college major. I find this really hard to wrap my head around – not being able to follow your dream career because you didn’t score high enough on a single test? It’s not as if Costa Ricans can look for another college that sees things differently either – there are only three public universities in Costa Rica, and the view by many is that if you’re not attending one of those three you might as well not go to college at all.
I guess the college system is just another thing here that’s hard for me to get used to, like having nothing to eat in the fridge that won’t splatter when dropped, or not being able to leave my room past 10:30 p.m. without setting off a house alarm that sounds like an air raid siren. I asked my host brother here, Gabriel, how often people end up doing what they studied in college. He looked as if my question didn’t make sense, then said, “In Costa Rica, everyone works in the field they studied in the university. Once one graduates, that’s where they work for the rest of their life.”
Frankly, I don’t know how anyone can make that decision at 18 ( sometimes even 17). I can barely decide what to have for lunch. Watching all my friends here make these life-alternating decisions really makes you think about your future – I’ll be struggling with the same indecision just months from now, during my senior year in the states. College majors in the U.S. certainly aren’t as constraining as they are in Costa Rica, but you wouldn’t want to just roll the wheel of fortune with your choice. Sometimes I feel like I’m doing just that though, changing my mind daily, wondering which path the arrow will land on when it’s time for me to make a choice. I’m hoping I’ll find something down here, in Costa Rica, that will give me a little bit of direction, maybe a different point of view. Who knows – maybe I’ll be a writer.