As I embarked on my trip to Costa Rica, I didn't know what to expect. The idea of a hostel was so foreign to me; a strange place with beds shared by thousands of travelers every year, a shared dirty kitchen, a language not my own, and people from all over the world. As we entered San Jose Costa Rica, the first person we met was Israeli, a man named Daniel. Because I was not aware of the large population of Israeli's that travel the world after they get out of the army, this was a very exciting arrangement! An Israeli? WOW! What a cool thing! I am really an ignorant American at this point...We shared a taxi to a hostel in the ghetto of Costa Rica but recommended by Lonely Planet. I thought I was so cool with my green youth Northface 55 Terra backpack. I felt so special wearing it because since I was a child, I used to respect anyone with a big backpack going somewhere. I don't know why. Perhaps it was because they were actually
going somewhere, other than the known, into the huge deep world, with a backpack and nothing else. I envied them since I was a child traveling with my parents in the big, lonely airports.
I secretly didn't want to go to the hostel. I wanted to walk around with my cool backpack (although not strapped correctly and hurting my back) just to show off to people that I had a backpack; I was
going somewhere. Yeah. To the hostel. To eat free pancakes and sleep in an overly used mattress with washed sheets that have been used hundreds of times by who knows who doing who knows what. But I put trust into the world, into the scene, into my new lifestyle, that I had no idea I was going to embrace. After a few days of rain in San Jose, I told Mike and Gary to pick a place, not tell me, and go. So the next morning, we got on a bus and were on our way! Destination: unknown. We ended up in Santa Theresa, on the southwest side of Costa Rica, after 3 bumpy, packed, dirty bus rides and a ferry trip over the peninsula. Santa Theresa: good waves, sunshine, yoga, parties, and hippies selling bracelets on the beach. And luckily for me, some cute Costa Rican locals. Party, party, party, drink, drink, drink, and sleep, sleep, sleep. No time to eat or care about anything else. Only time for beer, futbol (no I do not refer to it as soccer anymore), and some love to be shared. It was there where my eyes were really opened. Israeli's dominating the scene by far, Norwegians, Costa Ricans, Americans, Argentines, Brazilians, French, Spanish, Australians, and more. I was doing it! I was living my dream! I was meeting people from all over the world, sharing the universal language: futbol. Time to leave Santa Theresa, and north to Samara, Nosara, and then to cross the border into Nicaragua. Do you remember your first border crossing? What a pain in the ass! "I bring you here," "Don't take that taxi, take my bus" "Take my taxi!" "No his taxi is much more expensive!" "I need US$5 from you now to cross." And all I'm thinking is "WAIT JUST A FUCKING SECOND!" But in my broken spanish, I am absolutely not assertive enough. After a few hours of border hell, we finally settle on sharing a taxi to San Juan del Sur, one of the most beautiful places I have yet to encounter in my life, not because of the beach or the scenery (although it is fabulous), but because of the Nicaraguan hospitality, the futbol on the beaches at night, and the $1 ice cream right by Casa Oro, the hostel where I met lifelong friends and celebrate my 23rd birthday.
At this point in my travels, I am learning the hostel lifestyle, and opening up my eyes to the culture of travelers that exists in the world; the culture of travelers that move from place to place, the bracelet makers who travel Central and South America living in abandoned lofts and hammocks on the beach, the tourists who stay in hostels for a month or two at a time on their university break, the Peace Corps volunteers taking a weekend trip from their duties at their specific sites, the expats who have found what they are looking for in their lives in that specific place, those who had a "round-the-world" plane ticket and decided to further their stay by working in hostels, the writers who travel to learn of different cultures and express their interpretations through words, the fire dancers, the guitarists, the performers, the volunteers devoting their time to underprivileged people of "third-world" (i quote this because I do not necessarily agree with the term) countries, the students who are studying abroad for a semester, and many, many more. Who would have thought their was such a culture? I was stuck in Concord, CA dreaming of a different life than getting up and going to work everyday, going out on a Friday night to get wasted, and then enjoying a weekend with friends before the same cycle started over again. I knew there was something better: I had to find it. All we have in this life is life itself, we have to enjoy it. I was not enjoying the 9-5 world. I was stuck. I was bored. I didn't like the routine, the commute, the traffic, the idea of living life with two things that everyone's life focuses on: time and money.
Well guess what I learned on my travels thus far? Probably one of the most important concept of all! Time and money do not exist. Actually, they are human creations. Today, I went to pick up my mom from her job (she is a teacher and I am lucky to be able to share a car with her as I am visiting her and do not own a car but in California and in the suburbs of the Bay Area, you pretty much need a car) and walked into her second grade class where they were learning how to tell time and how to count money. I told her, "Mom I remember in second grade, the two things I hated doing the most was trying to count time and make sense of money." I never got it. I never understood the importance. There was just too many other things much more important! Playing tag, four square, and futbol during recess for instance. Then they wanted to sit me down in that stupid little chair when the bell rang to teach me how to count something by 10's that doesn't even exist in the natural world. Are you serious? I'm a nature girl, not an accountant. Don't train me to become one. I was more interested in learning how to play house, how to share, how to care, how to garden. And don't even start me with the concept of time. Let's just say, if we have to keep changing our clocks because of some weird phenomenon like daylight savings or daylight endings, why waste our time? It's life. The sun rises, stays in the sky, sets and then the moon rises, stays in the sky, sets, and then we're back to the beginning! Simplicity. Humanity fits in well with this. We hustle when the sun is out. We move from place to place. We garden, cultivate, plan, learn, think, grow, create and ultimately, be. We are human
beings after all, not human
doings. How simple it is when we look at it this way, huh? No money to chase, no time to run away from, just enjoyment of the sunshine, of the wind, of the rain, of the love that is ever present between each and every one of us. Oh how simple our lives could be only if we made them that way.
More to come....
