My day began early. I’m not a morning person — ask anyone — but when Costa Rica’s beaches are only open from 5 to 8 a.m., you have no choice but to set an early alarm.
By the time I made it to the ocean, the rain had stopped and the sun was beginning to burn through the clouds. I sat on a log and watched the surfers, the swimmers, the children building sand castles and collecting sea shells.
Hermit crabs scurried through the sand, hiding in their shells whenever a person drew near. In the distance, throaty squawks of macaws interrupted the rhythmic pounding of the waves.
At 8 a.m., after a man with a megaphone escorted everyone away, I walked to an overlook to appreciate how forest-covered hills bordered the white-sand beach bordered the shimmering blue water.
Minutes later, dwarfed by giant trees that bordered the trail, my hike was interrupted by a group of spider monkeys rustling through the canopy overhead.
Closer to the ground, lizards watched carefully from rocks and leaves, remaining still before darting into the underbrush.
By nightfall I was back in San José, listening again to the sounds of contention that have defined the last several weeks.
* * * *
News cannot be entirely objective. Publishing a story, even one that relies entirely on facts rather than opinion, is a subjective decision. Choosing not to report on a story is also a subjective decision.
Silence is a statement.
I choose not to be silent, and to share a fact: Black Lives Matter.
* * * *
Convincing people over the internet is near-impossible, and I have no expectations that the words of one person in Costa Rica will change anyone’s mind about just about anything.
Instead, I’ll close with some thoughts: People matter. Empathy matters. Words matter.
Your experiences are not everyone’s experiences. There are people who know more than you, or know differently than you,
There are many people more qualified than myself whose stories and research are worth your attention.
I can tell you the latest details about Costa Rica’s coronavirus response; I can tell you about this country’s many natural wonders; I can tell you my experience of growing up with the name “Alejandro” and being Jewish in mid-Michigan.
I don’t know what it’s like to be Black in the United States, or Bribrà in Costa Rica, or Uighur in China. I’ve never experienced police violence, nor have I felt threatened due to my gender, sexual orientation or color of my skin.
We all exist for a limited time in a beautiful, ugly world. We can never experience everything, but we can appreciate the good and try to improve the bad.
The world is beautiful, even when it’s ugly. The days are short, even when they’re long.
People matter, empathy matters. Words matter.
