THE morning’s first light streams in diagonally through the shuttered window, casting a staircase of shadow along the far wall. Across the house, a coffee grinder spins to life and an egg sizzles against hot metal. Eyes open cautiously and legs flex under blankets, the shuffle of bare feet across the hardwood floor of the kitchen blending seamlessly with the tail end of dreams as bodies throughout the house begin to stir.
There is much to be done today. The roof of the greenhouse must be washed, the beds of lettuce harvested. The horses must be gathered from around the farm for a waterfall tour, the bamboo cut to size for the new cabin, not to mention the preparation of the three-course dinner of soup, salad and barbecue chicken.
So go the days at Finca Pura Suerte.
FOR founder and operator Drennan Flahive, a contemplative, ponytailed young man from Colorado, days such as these have blurred together over the past five years as his farm has matured from a one-house plot without electricity into an impressive, vibrant grouping of gardens and cabins complete with telephone and Internet.
“Sometimes it’s hard for me to grasp all that has happened since I got here,” Flahive admitted over a morning cup of coffee. “It still amazes me that my life is here now, especially because my visit to the farm and the decision to buy it was pretty spontaneous. That’s where the name Pura Suerte comes from; being here today is nothing more than pure luck.”
If that is the case, then good fortune has blessed Flahive with quite a bounty. His 150-acre farm in the tiny community of La Florida, in the mountains about one hour west of San Isidro de El General in the Southern Zone, sits quietly on a gently sloping hill facing a shallow valley whose horizon bursts open to the expanse of the Pacific Ocean.
Capable of sleeping up to 50 volunteers and guests, the property consists of a main house with kitchen, three newly constructed bamboo cabins with hardwood floors and two additional houses on an adjacent property.
THE farm itself is impressive. A visit to Pura Suerte lends credence to the proud claim that virtually everything can grow in Costa Rican soil. The grounds are replete with dozens of types of fruits, vegetables and herbs. A massive greenhouse below the main house shades crops of tomato, cucumber, coffee and cannon ball-sized squash. Banana palms and mango trees surround the main house, and well-constructed paths wind throughout the property to smaller gardens, vibrant flowerbeds and benches from which to watch the sun set along the coast.
All this is a lot for one man to maintain. Apart from his six full-time employees, all residents of La Florida, the maintenance and development of Pura Suerte hinges on the support, skill and knowledge of volunteers. Last year alone, 100 eco-minded souls spent varying amounts of time on the farm, weeding, planting, harvesting and building.
“Their help is critical. Without it, I would drown in weeds alone,” Flahive said.
THE weekend I visited, the farm was relatively quiet. Livy Bridges, a high school friend of Flahive’s who had just finished two years of service with the Peace Corps in the Caribbean province of Limón, had stopped by before heading back to the United States.
“I am honestly blown away by what Drennan has done here,” Bridges confided as we helped prepare dinner. “I just keep thinking of the unassuming kid I knew in high school; funny how things can change.”
Pura Suerte accommodates its guests according to their level of participation in the daily chores and ongoing projects. Those who choose to volunteer on a semi-permanent basis are given room and board free of charge, more than compensating for their presence through hours of labor and shared knowledge. Others who prefer to do less strenuous work and spend more time riding horseback or visiting nearby waterfalls pay $7 a night. For $25 a day, guests have the option of staying in one of the newly constructed bamboo cabins, enjoying the delicious food and passing the time as they wish, lounging in hammocks or exploring the surrounding jungle.
That weekend, I was feeling particularly useful and acutely short on cash. The confluence of these two factors found me disposing of thousands of beetles ravaging vines of passion fruit, laying concrete footers for a new house, unloading dozens of different tree species just delivered and making a bowl of guacamole.
“We put our volunteers to work,” Flahive said with a shrewd smile, as he passed me a potted mango sapling. “You can expect to work hard if you volunteer here. But most learn something in the process and feel good about the day’s efforts.”
THE ultimate goal of the farm is to become a world-class ecotourism retreat with abundant lodging, a restaurant specializing in organic dishes and a natural amphitheater, all situated in lush forest buttressed by ongoing reforestation efforts run by Pura Suerte. Never abandoned is the overarching ethos of sustainability – meaning, “you don’t consume more than you can produce,” Flahive said.
Another maxim to which he subscribes is giving back to the community that was so welcoming upon his arrival. Flahive was one of the first foreigners to buy property in the immediate area and was anything but sure as to how he would be received. But he says his neighbors were nothing but patient and helpful.
He initially returned this kindness by offering an English course at the local elementary school. But he soon decided to switch the subject of the classes to gardening, a topic about which he is more passionate. And recently, as if to emphasize the degree to which he has become a member of the community, the mothers of his students began attending the classes along with their children.
“I try to never take for granted what I have here,” Flahive said. “I want to wake up every morning grateful for what this place has given me. I want this farm to be as beneficial to the people here as it is to me.”
Sounds like a worthy goal. And as time goes by, luck has less and less to do with it.
