family

Wild ‘glamping’ Trip Brings Rainforest Back to Life

| vivitronv

We were on a rural gravel road going through the rainforest when my aunt and cousin heard what seemed like a dinosaur roar and saw the trees shake.

“Dustin, Dustin! Can you stop and go back?”  I mean, sure why not.  Jurassic Park was only filmed in Costa Rica.  They didn’t really bring dinosaurs back to life, right?  

Howler monkey with mouth open
Howler Monkey

I slowly pulled to the side of the road and we began to crane our necks up toward the rainforest canopy to see what was going on. It turned out we had stumbled upon a pack of howler monkeys that really do sound like a T-rex. 

At first, I didn’t even want to get out of the car, as it was just another pack of monkeys in the trees, but my aunt had never seen monkeys in the wild. Thanks to her literally starting a conversation with them, we learned there was more than one pack, they were much closer to us than we thought and they had babies!

I rarely encounter wildlife this far out from civilization, but when I do it’s special.  With humans roving into all parts of the planet it was really cool to see monkeys that roar at you like they are trying to communicate with aliens. It was so far out, it felt like we were on another planet – or that I was in Jurassic Park, expecting a dinosaur at any moment.

We never did see any dinosaurs, of course, but I know have a new favorite Jurassic Park moment, courtesy of my aunt. She showed me new ways to experience the rainforest, only a couple of months after I wrote a column about how it no longer excited me.

Because she and my cousin were visiting me on vacation, we had decided to to find some of the most isolated and pristine beaches in Costa Rica, and that meant pushing the envelope. We took a ferry from the former port town of Puntarenas to the tip of the secluded Nicoya peninsula and hopped on a windy, two-lane road going into the mountains.

Aside from a few small towns or “bumps in the road,” as my dad would say, all we saw along that road were vast expanses of farmland, national reserves and the occasional breathtaking view of the ocean.

Eventually, the road ended and we came to the property. I call it that because we had rented a house, but it was nothing like what I expected. The jungle was amazingly manicured, and the “house” lacked doors and windows.

This place had it all, minus the doors and windows. There were pools, gardens, a pool table, a private beach, and of course, plenty of bat droppings. There was a waterfall a five-minute walk from the property on yet another secluded beach that we would have visited more if we didn’t already have our own private beach to enjoy.  

beach panoramic
Our view and beach below…

I was informed this kind of vacationing was called  “glamping.” and it’s something I would never have chosen on my own had I known what it was.  I’m a sucker for peer pressure though and my aunt, who fears no risk, was in charge. She brought me a hammock with a built-in mosquito net so I could sleep on the balcony overlooking the sea.  

The first night was incredible, as a thunderstorm ended up putting us to sleep. I had envisioned myself dozing off to a music on my phone, but nature was too intense not to take it all in.

Crab in the brush
A crab from our night walk, during the day

One night, we drove to a nearby beach and were truly amazed. We hadn’t realized while walking along the tide line in the darkness, that we were right at the bottom of a cliff. When we started to hear waves coming from the shore we became so puzzled until we turned to see the sound was actually reflecting off the cliff we’d been walking along the base of.  The water reaches the cliff during high tide, so this was really a treat, to see the underside of the sea and the caves and creatures that live there.

On our way back, it started to rain a bit, and when we arrived, the jungle was alive and well. The sounds of the crickets, frogs, and the combination of the tap-tap of the water falling through the canopy made it jungle-spooky.  

It was just quiet enough for one errant sound to provoke sheer fear and… thankfully, no dinosaur sightings. But I had to get out of the car to open the gate, and at that moment I could have sworn I was in the movie.

Looking back, I can’t get out of my head how wild that trip was.

Next weekend, I’m traveling to the beach again and I am disappointed already knowing my lodging has doors and windows. It will be a relaxing, fun time, but it will quickly blur into all the other typical trips I’ve done to the beach.

This one will stay with me, and the stories will probably get better over time. However, unlike that one time I almost caught a humongous fish with my uncle, I have video proof of my aunt talking to monkeys.

Returning to the U.S. is no Foregone Conclusion

| vivitronv

People almost never ask me if I will leave Costa Rica, but they really should.

As upwardly mobile as society is, nothing is ever set in stone, and I’m no exception. I’ve cliff-hanged about my intentions of staying in Costa Rica many times. But no matter how many times I’ve wanted to stay, something has always come up and forced me to leave.

Recently, I was put on the spot by a visiting colleague of mine from the United States. It was her first time to Costa Rica, and she decided to come visit me and my family her first night here.

She started with a softball: So how does a twenty something year old gringo end up in tropical Costa Rica?

I get asked this question about as often as it snows in winter, so this was an easy one. This time, I chose to go in chronological order: The first time I was in college, the second time I was volunteering, then I met my

They even have pizza in Costa Rica, what's not to love?
They even have pizza in Costa Rica, what’s not to love?

girlfriend, started a business and married my girlfriend and rode off into the sunset.

It was my best explanation yet. It included all the highlights, the tense, do-or-die deal-breaker moments and the realization of my new life. Had I had a pen and paper, this would have been the first draft of my autobiography.

At the end of my tale, which she had shown great interest listening to, there was a brief pause, followed by her question: “So when do you plan on going back to the U.S.?”

I was mildly startled by the question. “What kind of question is that?” I thought.

“Of course I plan on… I mean in a few ye-ye-years… This will all… eh, eh… When I get a job with CEO pay!” I finally blurted out to dodge the question.

I didn’t know why that was so hard to answer. I should have been prepared. Wondering why I wasn’t kept me thinking the rest of the night.

I came to the conclusion that it was quite a loaded question.

Had I planned to go back, I couldn’t expect people to think what I’m doing here is serious. It would seem this almost 10-year voyage that led me here would be for nothing. And if I didn’t go back, would I be running from the American dream?

I’ve never thought much of what other people think of me, but this was heavily influencing my answer. How I answer might cause people to form a different opinion about me.

The question reminded me of a couple I met once in Costa Rica. They had been married for 15 years and had no children, and every year they are still asked about having children.

They had no children because they didn’t want any – and I’m sure they decided that a long ago and that it is a non-issue for them – so I imagine they, too, are caught off guard when the question comes up.

I wonder if they ever make up an excuse just so people won’t think it is so different. Maybe that should be my strategy, too. Maybe what I am doing is a little too off the norm and people unconsciously assume this will all end.

Well, here’s one reason that’s a faulty assumption.

From 2004 until 2013, I never had a single address for more than 10 months at a time. Whether I was at college in Minnesota, teaching English in Spain, riding out the recession at home or traveling throughout Central and South America, I never had any intention of settling down.

So you would think that now after over more than two years in one place and one year of marriage I would be itching at the sides to make a change, if only to go back to the United States. But that thought has never really crossed my mind.

I still travel back a few times a year, and I have a place here for my parents to stay whenever they want to visit. Plus, with technology, a video call is never more than a moment away. If I do get lonely there is more than enough family to go around.

Over the years, I’ve been “adopted” into many families and married into one whose family tree is bigger than a sequoia. I don’t know in what moment the question became irrelevant but other than in the CEO salary scenario, I think I am pretty well settled in.

My colleague really stumped me that first night with that innocent, curious one-liner, and my answer probably wasn’t satisfying at the time. But redemption was served up fresh the next week, when my colleague, now back at work, messaged me: “Oh my gosh, Costa Rica was so wonderful, I can’t believe I was only able to stay for a week.”

I’m sure now she doesn’t even recall asking me that head-scratcher in the first place. Maybe that is why no one really asks. Spend any amount of time here and you’ll forget you had that question for me in the first place.

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¡Pura Vida!