This is what a typical orphanage volunteer experience looks like. Thinking about volunteering? Why not bring joy and companionship to children ages 1-12? Some are orphans while others have been put up for adoption by their parents or have been taken from their parents by social services.
Costa Rica Frika volunteer Teagen talks about her immersion experience:
This store owner was probably thinking “Who said Black Friday only had to be on Friday?”. In the United States they probably had the same discussion but realized it would look something like this….
Note: I grew up in Wisconsin, one of the colder places in the United States.
Fall used to mean the beginning of the end.
As the mercury began to drop and the days began to shrink, it was a slow, steady countdown to the abominable winter that always awaited us.
For me, the leaves changing colors used to be the first signs of death. I always used to cringe upon opening the closet to look for my jacket and would curse in vain having to scrape the ice off my windshield.
The end of my high school football season was always a blessing in disguise, as it signaled the end of my required outdoor activities for the year. Winter was coming. Long johns, fires, lip balm, snow shovels… ugh.
To me, fall was just a little tease from winter, sprinkling in enough nice days with enough terrible days to remind us of the ever-approaching deep freeze. Even with the beginning of the holiday season and the weekly meetings around the TV to cheer on the Badgers or Packers, I always felt an emptiness, knowing these would be short-lived highs as there was no turning back the clock on old man winter.
But then I moved to Costa Rica.
It was never about the weather, of course; I wanted culture, language and sights. And living in a tropical climate was just a bonus.
Now that I live here year-round, I have developed an “outside looking in” perspective, and what I’ve realized is that if you take winter out of the equation, fall becomes the greatest cheesehead season there is.
Not only is it a nice buffer between my favorite and least-favorite seasons, it has so many traditions attached to those subtle changes in the weather and carries so many childhood memories.
And that makes me a little jealous sitting on the sidelines in Costa Rica.
Living in Costa Rica has meant more or less the same weather every day. Consistently good and tropical with the occasional rain.
That is good enough for me to brag to friends and family that 75 percent of the year, the weather is better than in Wisconsin. For the other 25 percent, it’s not that the weather in Costa Rica gets worse, but rather the lack of fall.
Umbrella or no umbrella is the only change you’ll recognize here, and the monotony of that, to an experienced snow-shoveler, takes some time getting used to. When it is fall up north, it is the heart of the rainy season here. It is not by any means an apocalypse, but we receive heavy thunderstorms almost daily and the roads deteriorate faster than a stick of butter on an open stove.
I can’t complain about the heat and sun, but I do miss the climatic and environmental changes, along with the traditions of fall.
Every fall my biological clock gets flipped on its head. I don’t know what is more awkward, trick-or-treating in shorts or eating turkey without a wearing a sweater vest. The other day, I helped put Christmas ornaments on a palm tree.
Yes, a palm tree.
And Monday Night Football en Español? Well let’s just say I would rather watch the game on mute than learn how to say (much less explain), “intentional grounding,” in Spanish. Ex-pats have tried to bring fall traditions with them to Costa Rica and as much as they try, they just can’t be replicated.
I’ve stopped trying and am now figuring out how to fill the void. I think that’s part of the problem.
Nothing of great nature happens from September through November. Many people are flat broke from summer vacations and are trying to save money for the Christmas season. By law, they are required to receive a year-end bonus, but that doesn’t get paid until December.
There is also a lot of anticipation for the rains to end so the harvest season can begin and resupply the world with fresh coffee. Needless to say, there is a lot to think about during those rainy afternoons.
Once a sign of death, the beautiful September foliage now paints every hillside in my imagination. Grabbing that jacket from the deep ends of the closet? Duh, it’s gotta be football season. Scraping the ice off the windshield? At least I won’t have to mow the lawn anymore this year.
Maybe it’s easier to see the brighter side of fall knowing that I won’t be there for the ensuing deep freeze.
Last year my timing was perfect. I got to spend the better part of October and November in Wisconsin, and I felt shame. Like a corrupt politician splurging on a yacht with taxpayer money. The day before I headed back to Costa Rica, we received our first substantial snowfall of the year.
The pre-Costa Rica Dustin would have rolled over in bed and willed a profound sleep until May, but this year I was content as ever. I could have been the first one out making snow angels.
With old man Winter out of the way, I could finally embrace fall and usher in the onset of winter.
Here is one way to get more cars off the road. Just force everyone to take the train by blocking their driveways.
I just had to read the article and here were some of the highlights:
– Government claims that they are operating within the right a way.
– Project planning took 40 years to complete.
-40 million US dollars were spent just on studies and planning costs. In other words they spent 40 million before even putting a shovel in the ground.
I think maybe they’re lacking just a little common sense…
It’s not as bad as it looks. As long as you get all your shopping in by 2pm you should have all
afternoon to nap to the soothing snare beats from the rainwater as it bounces off the sheet metal roof. ¡Pura vida!
This post was originally published in January 2014 in a local publication in Verona, WI. It follows the experiences and adventures of Costa Rica Frika founder, Dustin, in Costa Rica. Enjoy!
A little more than a week ago, I married the girl of my dreams. Now, I find myself in Panama City, lounging next to her at the pool, sipping mojitos, and working on my tan. I can smell the sirloin steak coming from the kitchen; it will be my dinner in a few hours time. After that, perhaps I’ll go down to the casino or ask the concierge for a good nightclub to go to. There is no doubt in my mind that it will be a classy night. After all, Donald Trump also has a building named after him in this city.
Three days later, back in my home in neighboring Costa Rica, I counted all the luxury hotels, five course meals, room services, and ten dollar drinks and wondered if I had made a mistake. No, Mom, don’t panic… I definitely married the girl of my dreams, but our honeymoon was totally out of character.
It was the height of luxury, but we didn’t learn anything about the culture or the country. We never ate the regional food. We didn’t wander off into residential neighborhoods. Besides my wife’s innocent chatter with the taxi driver about why people don’t swim in the ocean (it’s contaminated), we hardly spoke to the locals. We just spent a lot of time in shopping malls and nice restaurants and without a friend to show us the ropes, we felt fairly restricted to the superficial tourist area. In effect, we treated ourselves to the all-inclusive package, yet it was probably the most exclusive thing either of us had ever done.
Fortunately, my honeymoon reminded me of why I chose to live in Costa Rica: so I could continue to re-live and share the experience of authentic travel that swept me off my feet so many years ago. Most of us know the joy of experiencing a baby’s firsts: first words, first steps, first tooth, etc. Well, what if I told you that I get to live that euphoria of firsts every single day with people of all ages? I have seen a fifty-year old’s first words in Spanish, a twelve-year old’s first gallo pinto breakfast, and countless others first realization that the world of Latin America is not half as scary as people point it out to be – people are quick on the smile, generous with laughs, and eager to help – and REAL travel has nothing to do with nightclubs and luxury hotels.
Every once in awhile, this constant, privileged euphoria slowly gets lost in the day to day routine until a special group comes along and gives me another injection. This January, in fact, I came dangerously close to an overdose. First, a group of University of Minnesota students came down for two weeks during their winter break. I didn’t really begin to understand the real depth and impact of their experience until the final night when their professor proceeded to give a 15 minute bilingual (he is not bilingual) speech in a pizza parlor where he reflected on his experience and expressed his gratitude to all of the Costa Ricans. A few days later, I received an email from the professor with a link to his THIRTY-EIGHT page journal that he had been keeping since he arrived. It was complete with pictures, diagrams, and reactions – practically ready for publishing. It wasn’t just about good food and comfortable beds, a cultural immersion in Costa Rica had inspired him in many new ways. It reminded me of why I am here.
And if that wasn’t enough, my extended family flew down for an exciting week of adventure that culminated in my wedding day. Every day was filled with an amazing energy to share and to embrace different cultures. Every effort was made so that the events took place in both languages and when communication broke down, people got creative. (Well, not so creative, we just uncorked more wine!) I got to watch my family’s first attempts at dancing salsa and cumbia, first cracks at Spanish pronunciation, and unfortunately, firsts exposures to EXTREME sun. People were eager to organize, record, and document every aspect of their newfound Latin American family and our Costa Rican counterparts were delighted to share and learn as well. Many notebooks were filled with memories, countless photos were taken, and everyone agreed that whatever just happened was a blurry, amazing, heartfelt, unforgettable experience.
It’s sometimes hard for me to fathom how what I consider to be my daily life now is the experience of a lifetime for others. I do remember that feeling some 8 years ago though and it still comes back to me on occasion: the insatiable curiosity, the sense of adventure, the relaxed pace of life, the tropical climate is different and intoxicating when you come from a fast-paced, extreme-driven society. Even though that seems so long ago for me, it is good to have that reminder of where I started.
In the end my trip to Panama ended up being a very refreshening experience for me as it reminded me of what I’ve got and at this point I don’t see myself trading in the open ended for the all inclusive anytime soon.
This post originally appeared in a local publication in May 2014 in Verona, WI. It highlights the experiences and adventures of Costa Rica Frika founder Dustin, now living in Costa Rica.
If there is one thing that resists the times of change, it has to be a park. Grandparents can watch their grandchildren play just as their grandparents watched them play as children. For me, it is a capsule that brings time to a halt as the world races around it and nowhere is this phenomenon better observed than in San Ramon.
In Costa Rica, to be considered a “town”, an area must have the following: a park, a church, a school, a soccer field and a bar. The best designed towns use their park as the main gathering space and the rest of these amenities make an orbit around it, like the sun at the center of the solar system. Only at the center, no one is running around trying to complete their own world orbit. Here, you can find couples eating ice cream, the elderly playing chess, and families watching their kids play. In other words, everybody sits comfortably on their axis. This is where people go to get their entertainment: meeting up with friends, watching community performances, or just people watching. The park is where the laid back “pura vida” lifestyle really shines through.
Any day of the week you can go to the main park in downtown San Ramon and see people hanging out. My wife goes to the park just about everyday. It doesn’t matter if she has to run errands or not because it’s really her way of getting refreshed and socializing with whoever she might bump into.
I force myself to make it to the park a few times a week now I could never believe the amount of people I would find there. What are they all doing? Are they waiting for a bus? Is there going to be mass soon? Are they waiting for their kid to get done with school? Don’t they have anything better to be doing? Usually right after I get done asking myself those questions, I bump into somebody I know and we start to chat and before I know it we have been talking for 20 minutes. Didn’t they have to be somewhere? Weren’t they wondering if I had to be somewhere? What is so special about this park?
Finally, I concluded that being from the “land of opportunity” drives me away from the park everyday and into the office. I am a workaholic. It now makes sense to me why I rarely saw people at the park in Verona growing up and even less if the park didn’t have a playground or a soccer field (San Ramon’s park does not). Many of us are workaholics who are taught to continuously strive to improve our situation. Still more of us are just trying to get by. The majority of Costa Ricans fall into the latter category, they are trying to find make ends meet with the limited employment opportunities that their country offers.
A wise Costa Rican friend of mine once told me that there are rich people and poor people lying sick in hospital beds. What difference does it make should they both die? They both go to the next life as equals. It doesn’t matter how hard you’ve worked when you can’t take any of that with you. He did mention the importance of having a good lifestyle, but quality of life takes precedence. (And while he has a good quality of life, he agreed that he wouldn’t mind having a little more lifestyle as well). That’s the choice I find myself having to make on a daily basis. Is a smart phone considered a lifestyle or life quality choice? Watch enough TV commercials and I’m sure you’ll be thoroughly convinced otherwise. Maybe that is what I miss when I stand there, perplexed, looking at the 60 year old man chatting with his buddies at 10am on a Tuesday at the park. He doesn’t have an iphone or a 60¨ flat screen, but he is emanating life quality in HD.
The park in San Ramon not only serves a purpose for the day crowd but it also provides a haven for nightlife. I used to joke with my friends that the only thing to do in San Ramon was to go the park, but this isn’t far from the reality. The highlight of a teenager’s weekend might be to go with their friends on a Saturday night to the park and watch everyone drive their cars around the park. After a long week of work, people like to display themselves and one way of doing that is to take a few laps around the park. If you can do it in a nice car, even better.
This is a scene that is repeated all over Costa Rica. Consumerism is alive and well throughout the country, but locals are willing to do it at their own pace. Even those with employment reason that if they work less now and have to wait a few more months for the gratification of having the latest gadget, then they’ll gladly take their time and do things at their own pace so as not sacrifice “park time” or “life quality.”
About a year ago, the city gave the park a face lift. It put in new sidewalks, re-landscaped and installed cool LED lights that allow the color of the park to change every few minutes. All this effort affirmed the great pride that the town takes in displaying its prime attraction. You see, without a park, a town looses its center of the universe. With nothing to orbit there is no base, no starting point, no common ground or identity to the town. All you have are cold concrete buildings, open for business.
Immersion Experiences 