Behind the Facade
It’s moments like these that are beautiful. When your body smells like three-day-old cheese that’s been sitting in the sun and your one set of clean clothes is damp from the water that leaked through your rain cover and into your backpack.
I have given up on trying to tame the curls that look great right after a shower, but bare more of a resemblance to Mrs. Frankenstein two hours later. Perfume is a luxury that I deny myself; it will only serve in increasing the appeal of my body to mosquitos.
I love travel.
I love the dirt and the pain, the heartache and stress. In the moment sometimes I hate it, but later on when it’s all said and done, when I’m sitting on a secluded beach or sweating at the top of a mountain…it’s worth it.
Though some believe strictly in the budget route. I’m a firm believer that it’s important to treat yourself, every once in a while. Since I stick predominantly to dorm room hostels, filled with as many as nineteen other people, I don’t always get privacy. Though extremely extroverted, I can only maintain my sanity if I get a certain allotment of alone time. Otherwise I become a very moody, unpleasant, and unapproachable extrovert.
So every few weeks I like to book one or two nights in a hotel or private room. I walk into a restaurant and request a table for one; I find a tranquil coffee shop and dive into a book or block the world out with my music. I run and let the ache of my muscles remind me that this is what living should feel like. In other words, I treat myself.
I allow myself to have what I know I need, rather than restrict myself. For my last night in Costa Rica, which I don’t really count as my last night since it wasn’t about experiencing the country, I booked a hotel room at a nice resort.
Although Nora would be meeting me later that night, I had several hours all to myself. I took an Uber to the US Embassy, explaining to the driver that traveling alone not only forces you to meet others but also yourself.
Even though my doubts tell me I’ll never see any of my belongings again, I refuse to relinquish hope. A friend recently posted a quote:
This is me to the core. Reason says Babi’s necklace is gone, but it takes equal effort to believe that it will find its way back to me, somehow, someday. So why not believe?
The embassy took a copy of the police report and a picture of the necklace to help with the investigation. They promised to keep me posted and wished me safety in the rest of my travels. Some may see the trip as a waste of time. For me it is a smoothing balm to my conscience…I did absolutely everything in my power, and the rest is up to the universe.
From the embassy I walked a mile and a half to Starbucks. My first in two weeks…for those of you who know how addicted I am. Sitting by the window I pictured my time in Costa Rica.
I saw the photographer on the kayak tour, greedily telling a German woman that she had to pay double since she had been in a two person kayak. The guides shoving pamphlets in my face in Manuel Antonio reminded me so much of the plaza outside The Vatican in Rome.
Costa Rica had been so drastically different than I expected. In a manner of speaking I was disappointed by the way that everything had been placed into a clean box. It was perfectly designed to cater to eager tourists, yet for those of us looking for something raw and real…it was a facade.
Don’t mistake me, I enjoyed my time and found both the country and its people beautiful. However, I think living in Costa Rica is really the only way that you can EXPERIENCE Costa Rica. Not the drop that is hung up for tourist, but what’s going on backstage, behind the sets and props.
Maybe one day.
While on the ride back to the hotel I took note of the small things few people notice: the brands of cars that aren’t sold in the US, the Korean writing on the windows of the Hyundai buses, the depth of the gutters to accommodate the heavy rains. Traffic lights are yellow on the outside. I know it’s random but I can’t help seeing the little things. The countless number of trash cans that are always positioned next to at least two different types of recycling bins.
One of my favorite things about CR is the fact that 93 percent of its energy is from renewable sources. The seven percent that isn’t, is only used in case of an emergency. For the past two years they haven’t needed to resort to that. In the next decade they plan to become the first country in the world to run 100 percent on renewable energy.
Another admirable thing is the fact that the country has “survived” for 70 years without a military. Imagine all the money that they are able to funnel into other programs like education, which is the cornerstone of our future.
I digress. That night I had dinner alone, enjoying the silence of my own company. In the morning Nora and I would book tickets for a fourteen hour bus to Panama City.
Farewell, Costa Rica. Pura vida.
