¡Estamos en Costa Rica! 🇨🇷

WE. ARE. HERE!

The Voyage

Flying in was surreal– we began our travel day in the dark gray ambience of a Wisconsin January, and then we flew into this:

But before I get to that, let’s just recap what exactly happened between my family dropping us off at Midway Airport and our arrival into this beautiful country.

We said our tearful goodbyes and then proceeded to security, where they had a drug dog doing laps around incoming passengers. Pro tip: DO NOT MOVE YOUR CARRY-ON OUT OF THE DRUG DOG’S PATH, EVEN IF THAT MEANS THE DOG TAKES A HIT FROM YOUR BAG. Landyn, bless his sweet soul, made this mistake and we were IMMEDIATELY whisked away into a separate security screening area. They were very thorough: they put us through two different x-ray machines and then still felt the need to wand us down. So yeah…don’t avoid the drug dog while getting onto an international flight because they will assume you’re a drug lord smuggling their loot to Central America.

Our flight from Chicago to Fort Lauderdale was extremely uneventful. By the time we got off the plane in FLL we only had ten minutes until we re-boarded for San Jose. I have a serious flying phobia so I’m not one to get pumped about boarding an aircraft, but damn, when we got on the plane for San Jose we were like kids on Christmas Eve.

When we got off the plane in San Jose I was punched in the face by the humidity. I began my day in sub-zero temperatures and painfully parched air, and just 8 hours later I was in 70 degree sunshine and dense humidity. The change was extreme, abrupt, and overwhelming. I must have been disoriented from it, because the first thing I did in my new homeland was open an “in case of emergency only” door, setting off a shrill alarm throughout the terminal. Guess that’s one way to make an entrance.

Six international planes all landed within 20 minutes of each other, so we spent over two hours in an immigration line with minimal air conditioning. During this time, we witnessed an extremely intoxicated couple’s future go up in flames as the woman found out/announced to all of us in line that her partner had given herpes to another (married) woman. They ostentatiously, incessantly berated each other for over 90 minutes. *Yikes*

Truth be told, I tried to quit this trip about fifty times during our wait in the immigration line because it was just too fricken hot. I was a sleep deprived, famished ship that was sinking fast. I thought there was no way it could get any worse. And then, Landyn and I both watched as a thick red droplet fell from his nose onto the pearly white airport tile. The only scenario I did not prepare for was the one where Landyn’s nose starts gushing blood in the immigration line.

Nevertheless she persisted, and eventually we made it through immigration to baggage claim. Somehow, the magical forces of the universe enabled me to fit all of my essentials into two suitcases, one carry-on, and a backpack. I am currently working on a personal thank you letter to Southwest for their generous baggage policy.

Finally, after more than twelve hours of traveling and quite a few pockets of turbulence, we got into a taxi and made our way to our new home.

El Rodeo

Our apartment is quaint and adorable and has lots of dogs, cats, and birds roaming around the property. I’m immersed in nature and the tranquility that brings is almost unsettling at times because it’s so opposite to my life in the United States. I have a feeling this place is going to be great for my anxiety.

The town is extremely small. The kind where everybody knows everybody and waves and says “hola” and all that. Also polar opposite of my hometown. The people are so nice and so understanding when I speak my pitiful, broken Spanish to them while paying at the tiny supermarket here in town or ordering food at one of the two restaurants. It has really made me consider how we treat people struggling with a language barrier in the United States.

Which reminds me…

On Monday we wandered around the nearby city of Ciudad Colón. The Pura Vida culture is tangible in every vibrant square inch of Ciudad Colón. It is significantly more inhabited and fast-paced than our town, allowing for more of the anonymity you’d find in an American city.

And yet I have never felt more under the microscope. I was stared at. To some extent I get it– I’m a very pale white person and I just dyed my hair a blonde hue reminiscent of Daenerys Targaryen. Not exactly the norm around here.

But when you feel like everyone is looking at you, muttering inaudible words in a language you can’t understand, it really doesn’t matter why they’re staring, it’s intimidating and a little unnerving.

In Costa Rica I am in the minority, and despite my glaring ineptitude at speaking the language and looking the part, they have treated me with such kindness and respect that my cheeks flush when I think about how some people are treated for not speaking English or not looking the part in America.

Language barriers are REAL and they’re hard and scary and you bet your ass Landyn and I are speaking English to anyone down here that can speak it too; it’s easy, it’s convenient, it feels like home. But discomfort is the cornerstone of growth, so Landyn and I are putting in hella hours on Duolingo to see who can achieve Spanish fluency first so that we don’t rely on the complacency that speaking English brings.

Even just three days in, I can tell that this experience will bring me new perspective in ways I never imagined possible.

Until next time, friends.