La Fortuna
I adamantly refused to believe it. Running up to the driver, I begged him to call the police. They came, spoke to a few witnesses, took my information, and drove me to the police station to file a report. The woman amongst the three had an air of confidence; they would do everything in their power and sometimes things turned up. The demeanor of the two men, however, told me that they had zero hope and saw the whole thing as pointless.
It wasn’t real. It wasn’t happening. I would wake up any moment and discover none of it was true.
But I was all too familiar with those moments. The ones that you refuse to believe are occurring despite the irrefutable evidence to the contrary.
The worst part was that I knew better. I always kept my valuables at my feet. I knew never to lose sight of it. Never to fall asleep unless the bag was securely clutched to my body. I don’t know if it was the fact that I was travelling with someone, or the fact that so many people told me “Costa Rica is very safe.”.
Whatever it was, for some unknown reason I let my guard down. I did the one thing I constantly warned people about. “Don’t put yourself in that situation.” But I did. I had walked right into it and I couldn’t take it back.
Sara stayed with me the entire time. Her mere presence was a comfort. I honestly don’t think I would have held up as well as I did without her. Once the report was filed we took a cab back to the bus station and waited to continue our journey. I wondered how many of the people remembered me from before. How many of them has seen the girl who was stupid enough to leave her pack unattended for even a second?
Then it hit me! The worst thing imaginable. Babi’s necklace. It had been in the bag. My ears began ringing. I was going to faint. I was going to die from shame and heartbreak. It was gone. It was gone! The one piece of my grandmother that I prized the most was gone! How could I have been so stupid? How in my right mind could I have ever let anything so important out of arm’s reach? What had I been thinking? I hadn’t been thinking. My brain was obviously defective.
It was then that the first tears finally came. I held them back, willing myself to breath, praying the world would right itself.
The last leg of the journey passed in relative silence. Occasionally, I would crack a joke in the hope that it was dull the knife in my heart. The bus was empty so the driver allowed us to keep our larger packs with us. I held mine the entire time, occasionally leaning over to rest my head. It was safe; it was home. It was all I had left aside from the tiny purse that had saved my passport, phone, and credit cards. They had been spared from the theft along with my kindle. I had planned to read it on the ride but never did. Rain slid down the windows as the clouds cried the tears I refused to relinquish.
Sara and I parted at the station; we would remain in contact throughout our stay in La Fortuna. My rain jacket had been amongst the things that were stolen, leaving me entirely exposed to the elements. I arrived at my hostel drenched and depressed. After checking in, I asked the front desk where to buy beer and proceeded to purchase two bottles of a Belgium ale-my supper that evening. Though I hadn’t eaten since breakfast I had no desire for sustenance. I was numb to the world, raw, violated.
I’ve traveled the world: walked home alone in the middle of the night in Korea, hitchhiked on motorcycles in Colombia, stayed at a stranger’s house in Chile. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before.
Yet, I am and always will be a “silver lining person,” I attempt to see the good and beauty in even the worst situations. The wave of support that I received from friends and family cannot be sufficiently portrayed. I am eternally grateful to everyone who reached out, donated money, and sent their love.
It’s interesting that I should be staying in a city called “The Fortunate” for that is exactly what I am. I would like to share an excerpt from my personal journal. At the moment it’s the only one that exists because my other journal was in the stolen pack.
“I sit here in wonder, beneath the beautiful falls of La Fortuna, surrounded by the warm embrace of green. There are probably at least ten mosquitos biting me right now, but I don’t care. I’m here. I’m now. I’m alive, nothing else matters.
“The sun was out today, a little gift from Mother Nature after the storm that hit my life yesterday. I lost so many valuable things, not monetarily-but emotionally. Babi’s gold pendant of Prague Castle had reminded me of her every time I wore it. I felt as though I was carrying a piece of her.
“Her life wasn’t easy; it was full of hard work and loss. She arrived with her family in Canada with sixty dollars and together they built a new life. She knew what it meant to lose everything, to have nothing. In my heart of hearts I envision the necklace finding its’ way to a family in need. Perhaps it will merely serve as a symbol of hope, or maybe it will buy them food for a month. Every time I tell a Costa Rican this they look at me like I’m crazy. They believe it was my stuff and no one else had a right to it. Yet, I think Babi would like it, knowing that she inadvertently helped someone in need. That she gave hope to someone with none. I know it is more likely the necklace is being melted down into a hunk of gold, but it brings me peace imagining a happier alternative. Besides I’ll never truly know what happened so why think the worst when I can believe the best.
“The journals I lost are another item that haunts me. One was a “To Do List” book but the other was where I opened my heart and spirit. I got to know myself there and came to deep resounding revelations. I explored my individuality, spirituality, and inner self. In fact, a few days before it was stolen I thought to myself how wonderful it would be to look back on all I had written.
“In reality I am fortunate. Loss forces us to realize what is truly important. The reactions of my friends and family…there are not words in any language or dialect, past or present, that can come close to conveying my gratitude and love for them. I am so very lucky to be living a life where I know what it means to be loved, and that is more valuable than anything that I could put in that bag.”
Over the past few days people have said things that really resonated. When I told my mom I would miss my camera because the pictures it took were so good, she responded with, “You mean the pictures YOU took.” During one of my self-blaming rants my best friend asked me, “If our roles were reversed would you find me at fault for being robbed?” Of course not! If she messaged me from a foreign country telling me someone stole her most valuable possessions, I would instantly want to hunt down the bastard that hurt her and punch him in the face. In my eyes it could never be her fault even if she handed over the belongings. Why then was I insistent on abusing myself with regret and guilt?
I can’t change the past. All I can do is look to the future, to laugh through the tears, smile through the pain, and move on. Babi lives on, not in a necklace but in my heart. The revelations written in the journal still flow within me. There are other backpacks that will climb mountains with me. A picture is worth a thousand words, but the best pictures are those held in our memories.
I can lament but instead I chose strength, compassion, positivity. I face life head on. Instead of throwing the lemons back and souring up the rest of the world, I use them to make lemonade and share it with those I meet along the way.
