May 16th, 2001, was the date of our arrival into Costa Rica. All of the antics that followed are a bit cloudy. I can’t remember the exact order of how things occurred. But that’s OK. No need to beat myself up about that. Memory is what it is.
I once was told when something happens to you that is traumatic; you will remember your surroundings in great detail. I have some vivid memories of our first months, in this country. In my head are detailed images of snakes, scorpions and crazy cats; blood on the wall, and the view of fireflies, as I gazed out the upstairs window. They were only in that one lot, as if the fence kept them in. A magical, nocturnal happening, after an exhausting day of killing scorpions and chasing away rogue, wild cats. Regardless of the incidents, each day, I knew I was in the right place. I was experiencing something special.
The good always made we want to overlook the bad. Or just learn to live with it. Pura vida, right! At first, that saying is like honey on everyone’s lips and later it turns into a second meaning for another two word saying. Pura vida means pure life and it’s an appropriate saying for the Costa Rican lifestyle. They also have another fitting saying, “Live like the Cows,” but that’s another story.
When we were still travelling down on vacations, as new land owners, I would look out at the red clay roads and open savannahs, and I would be gripped by an overwhelming feeling; how am I going to make this strange land my home.
Ten years and seven months later, I know how; don’t leave and don’t give up.
This picture is from the front door, of a family that lives with us here on our property. It’s not the location we started with, it’s the one that God gave us. We are very blessed.