Don't Stop Believin'

It's funny how easy it is to speak English when you're belting it out during a nice round of Karaoke. Such is the case here in Costa Rica. Okay so maybe it didn't happen at an official karaoke bar setting, but the public bus on a weekend morning is close enough, right? Sure it is.

I was on my way to the Caribbean coast, to the town of Gandoca, when I got my first real experience with Tico Karaoke. It was new, yet oh so familiar. It was foreign, yet so very known. As I sipped my coffee and bounced along the rough rural road heading south toward San Jose on Saturday morning, I was completely caught off guard by this particular fellow a few rows behind me who saw fit to celebrate the end of the work week with a Costarricense rendition of Journey's Don't Stop Believin'.

Perhaps it was the elderly woman snoozing next to me. Or it might've been the fact that that morning I happened to have been sold a hotter-than-usual cup of coffee. Whatever the reason may have been, it took every fiber of my being to not join in with him. [Lesson learned; Next time, if I want to join in the fun, I'll have to just choose water over coffee.] This joyous Tico was just loving life and didn't care who knew it, including the long-haired gringo blanco who couldn't stop smiling at the moment.

It made me think about something I've been turning over in my mind over the last few amazing weeks: I'm living in Costa Rica.

Allow me, if you will, to repeat. I'm living in COSTA RICA. It's a place that's been securely fastened in the deepest part of my thumping heart since I first touched down in Liberia back in 2007, and I can't even begin to tell you how many times my own patchwork plans to return to this amazing place have fallen apart. (Side note: Probably the most notorious would have to be when I had a 10-day research trip to Guanacaste planned for a potential camp location, but I resigned from that particular non-profit the day before I was scheduled to fly out.)

It's one of those things where I have to pinch myself every now and again just to remind myself that I'm actually here. It's never been a problem for me, that whole situational awareness thing. Ordinarily I'm really good at knowing where I am, what I'm doing, and what's happening around me; however, I can't even begin to list the times I've just been walking about the square in San Isidro, sitting on a beach on the Caribbean, or strolling the busy streets of San Jose, and I have to stop and introspectively pronounce, "Yeah, Dak. It's real."

The view at sunset from just outside my house, to the north.

Another good shot, just after sunset, facing south from my community.
The lights are the capital city of San Jose

What a beautiful life I've been allowed to live.