Growing up on the Lower East Side of New York certainly didn’t prepare me for the culture shock of moving to a sleepy little fishing village in Guanacaste, Costa Rica; where Brahman cows own the roads, pelicans own the skies, and howler monkeys own the trees in the verdant landscape of this tropical dry forest. From the moment I arrived, it didn’t take long to hear the famous Costa Rican catch phrase from Ticos and tourists alike. Pura Vida!
For such a small country tucked between the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean Sea, Costa Rica is home to some of the highest levels of biodiversity in the world, with nearly 6% of the world’s species. It also includes six active volcanoes (and many more dormant), cloud forests, rainforests and more. The Gold Coast of Guanacaste offers dramatic sunsets, incredible diving, and world class fishing and surf. What’s not to love about this tropical paradise?
Over the last three years of living in Playa Potrero, I’ve come to learn that Pura Vida means very different things to different people from different parts of this diverse developing nation. Pura Vida is a shared cultural phenomenon that can hook you right away with its beautiful beaches, delicious fruit, and luscious rain forests, but often takes years to come to terms with the darker sides of Pura Vida. An experience I describe as surrendering to Pura Vida.
Expats like me and tourists have the luxury of having a love-hate-relationship with Pura Vida. Of course the Gallo Pinto in the morning and coffee time in the afternoon are staples of the shared Pura Vida experience, but so are the more unsavory moments like changing flat tires in the middle of nowhere, dodging zaguates, dealing with crazy motorists passing you on winding roads, getting stuck in the mud on undrivable terrain, not to mention the petty theft, armed robbery, and worse.
It is true that Gringos or American tourists are often easy targets. Even the US Department of State issues travel warnings not to resist in the event of a robbery. That said, there is somewhat of a police presence that doesn’t always make us feel any safer. It can feel like the wild, wild west at times and at others a utopian paradise. All of which is Pura Vida!
When I consider what the future holds in store for me and my family, who all love where we live and can’t get enough of the Pura Vida Lifestyle, the reality of trying to survive in a tourist zone with high costs of living on a teacher’s salary draws stark obstacles. Surprisingly the biggest shock of living and working in Costa Rica hasn’t been getting used to Tico time, but having to come to terms with the double edged sword of gentrification and the disparity of wealth that exists in our area.
Many of us have a role to play by just being here. There are countless faces that I pass by everyday living very distinct realities and enjoying very different states of Pura Vida based on their living conditions. So many people that I interact with on a daily basis live in dilapidated wooden houses or tin shacks, but at least have a roof over their heads. Whereas, an equal number of the people I meet live in million dollar mansions with vistas al mar, have fancy yachts and enjoy the finest things in life. The entire spectrum is Pura Vida.
The town of Potrero, a blip on the pacific inter-american highway, is the gateway to some of the wealthiest places in Costa Rica and home to places like Reserva Conchal, Las Catalinas or Zapotal. Thankfully there are places like La Paz Community School, CEPIA, Abriendo Mentes and more that strive to bridge the divide and provide opportunities to educate local children and help raise them and their families out of poverty. This is also Pura Vida.
Herein lies the problem, by being here I help fuel the gentrification pushing out local Guanacastecans, even though my presence adds value at the institution where I work and the communities to which I belong. Of course I do my part to make the world a better place from where I stand, but does my effort outweigh the harm that I cause? Whatever the answer may be, I am past the point of no return.
I have just received my temporary residency and intend to continue teaching English at our local international school. Whether I love to hate Pura Vida for all of its faults, or hate to love it, there’s no denying that Costa Rica is a magical place, and a blessing to call it home. I acknowledge that the privilege I have that allows me to write this piece, can seem uncouth with all of the nightmarish atrocities happening in the Middle East and around the globe. But my taste of Costa Rica has left me wondering if I am truly ready to fully surrender to Pura Vida.
