When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.
When the ocean gives you mangoes, you eat them.
Though one is sweet and the other is sour, after a beach day at Manuel Antonio, I can confidently say that both fruits have metaphorically and literally taught me a lesson.
On Friday, Luis Carlos and Silvia, whom I consider my adoptive Costa Rican parents at this point, arranged for a few of us pasantes ir a la playa en Manuel Antonio. We left the house at 4:50 am with our beach bags and extra snacks in hand. After a successful transfer from our Uber to the short bus, nosotras dormimos until it was time to stop for a traditional Costa Rican breakfast.
At seis y media en la tarde, nosotros bebimos mucho cafe con leche (y azucar por me), y comimos frutas, una tortilla, gallo pinto, platains, y huevos. At first, the tranquility of the mom-and-pop restaurant was punctuated only by the occasional collision of silverware and china. However, our group came to life with the jungle that surrounded us. As the chirping of toucans and macaws intensified, so did our giggles. After being properly fed and caffeinated we piled back onto the bus to put more distance between us and the city.
Our driver Enrique made several pit stops along the way including a scenic view of Jaco beach, a gift shop, forests teeming with sloths and tropical birds, and the infamous Tarcoles Bridge. The brackish waters of Rio Tarcoles are home to over 2,000 large American Crocodiles. The downpour from the previous day had made the water too high and fast-moving to see anything. As locals yelled from their fast moving cars for us to "ten cuidado", our imaginations may or may not have got the best of us.
A view of Jaco beach, one of the best surfing beaches in the world!
My bus buddy was another intern, Maria Paola who reminded of just how big, and vast, and different pockets of the world are. She grew up in the heart San Jose and is studying international relations at the University of Costa Rica. I grew up on a farm at least an hour away from a major sign of civilization and refused to touch numbers. Everything from how we spent our summers to the books we read was completely different. Aside from personal preferences, the differences between our countries were even more striking. We compared populations, poverty and crime rates, politics, environmental policies, health insurance coverage, the cost of university tuition, and pretty much everything else that two political science enthusiasts are interested in. After almost four hours on the road, we finally arrived at the entrance of Parque Nacional Manuel Antonio.
My favorite welcome sign in the park.
To enjoy la playa Manuel Antonio, we spent roughly half an hour walking through a quaint but vibrant pueblo and lush jungle. Along the way, we saw women selling fresh coconuts and colorful tapestries, more sloths and spider monkeys, and even some iguanas scrabbling across the gravel. Though the jungle was very much alive, it was the closest I have gotten to true peace and quiet since arriving. The jungle pulled me closer to its heart and the beach. The knots in my shoulders began to unwind as my lungs expanded all the way against my ribcage.
The wooden bridge that took us from the park entrance to la playa.
A change in location often leads to a change in perspective and a deeper appreciation for things you once took for granted. I've kept a gratitude list every morning for the last year. It's interesting to compare entries from this summer to those from a year ago. Here are a few funny (and some serious) additions:
Water seven days a week
Hot showers
Air conditioning
Reliable internet
Intellectual conversations with people from completely different backgrounds
Growing up in a two-parent household/strong support system
Being financially stable
Leadership opportunities
Living in a democracy/political stability
Having access to food whenever I want or need it
Dryers and dishwashers
Electric stoves and ovens
Being able to carry conversations/express what I am thinking
Animal control
My education and literacy
Liquid coffee creamer
My health
Ability to travel
My siblings
Two sets of grandparents
Friends who motivate and encourage me
Most of all, I have grown to love this city and the people that call it home. However, sometimes a girl just needs some silence and Wide Open Spaces (cue the Dixie Chicks).
Many precede and many will follow
A young girl's dreams no longer hollow
It takes the shape of a place out west
But what it holds for her, she hasn't yet guessed
She needs, wide open spaces
Room to make her big mistakes
She needs, new faces
She knows the high stake
She traveled this road as a child
Wide-eyed and grinning, she never tired
But now she won't be coming back with the rest
If these are life's lessons, she'll take this test
After a steep hike downhill, we threw down our bags, shed our hiking gear, and raced into the ocean. The sting of salt water in our eyes and nose didn't stop us from diving deeper into the clear blue water. Waves crashed into the rocks and a wall that I had built around myself. Before I knew it, the stony exterior I had constructed to keep questionable strangers from approaching crumbled as my laughs harmonized with those of my sweet friends.
I am keenly aware of the fact that I don't look like I belong in Costa Rica. And truthfully, most days this Nebraska farm girl doesn't feel like she belongs here either. Living in a Latin American city is unlike anything I have ever experienced. On days like Manuel Antonio, it's an exciting adventure when I can physically feel my worldview expanding as my jaw drops in awe. But on others, it's exhausting. Simple things like carrying on a conversation, taking a trip to the grocery store, or finding a safe neighborhood for dinner requires extensive planning and research. Just because I am a fully competent and capable human who can figure things out doesn't mean it's not tiring. Escaping to the beach was exactly what I needed to recharge.
La Playa Manuel Antonio.
After a quick break lounging on the sand while keeping an eye on the monkeys that were closer than I deemed necessary, we jumped back in the water. As we waded through seaweed and other debris, I noticed something small and green buried in the muck. With a cautious curiosity, I plucked it out of the mass and handed it to Paola. She instantly recognized it as an unripe mango. I barely had time to process what she had said before she polished it off and took a gigantic bite from the flesh. The delight that spread across her face encouraged me to follow suit. My eyes watered as my tastebuds were greeted with a punch of sourness from this exexpected treat. It was easily my favorite thing that I ate that day.
If you were wondering what pure joy looks like, my discovery of an ocean mango is a pretty accurate representation.
Like I do with most things in life, I did a fair amount of research before I went to the beach. After scouring TripAdvisor and watching a fair amount of YouTube travel vlogs, I had a set agenda with clear expectations for the day before I even stepped on the bus that morning. First we'll do this, then this, see this, eat this, stop here...
Mangoes from the ocean were nowhere on my itinerary.
In the past, I would have refused to deviate from my very clear plan for the day. If we stopped to eat the mangoes, that means we wouldn't have enough time to spend on the other beach, which meant that we would have less time to shower, so we would be late for lunch, and... Yeah. You get the point. I will be the first to admit that I am not very adaptable. When things change quickly, it derails not only my plan but my mood. But I'm pretty sure it's against the rules to be stressed at the beach. I mean I'm by the ocean, I should be able to "go with the flow" directly next to a large body of water right?
Being able to plan and execute is a strong suit, but Costa Rica has taught me that maybe flexibility isn't so bad after all. In fact, it's kind of necessary. I've come face to face with the reality that there is in fact very little within my sphere of control. For me, flexibility isn't so much about surrendering control or trying to fight the way that my brain is wired. It's about practicing gratitude for unexpected blessings in the moment, not just in the morning.
It starts with finding more (literal and metaphorical) mangoes in the sea.
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