Am I crazy? A month-long experiment moving the family to Costa Rica
Last December, snowflakes in abundance, I spontaneously signed our family up to decamp for a month to Costa Rica.
From the comfort of my bed, experienced virtually, the Airbnb villa features airy indoor spaces and a plunge pool for cooling off. The ocean? A mere 10-minute walk to a protected parkland beach.
My twin 14-year-olds are having a bummer of a freshman year. School feels like all of the drudgery and none of the fun. So why not? The kids are fully-remote, and so am I. Let’s get the hell out of here. Let’s do this.
Countdown: Three days to Costa Rica
Flash forward to days before departure. Let’s face it: I’m anxious. Nature is dumping a foot of snow on New England. Will we be able to travel? Have I bought enough extra insurance? Is it the right kind?
Best case scenario for Costa Rica: The Internet is fabulous, our house is luxurious, we savor long walks on the beach. Monkeys and exotic birds greet us with fabulously unfamiliar sounds.
Or maybe Costa Rica is a shit show. We’re delayed for days getting there, the Internet is terrible, no one can work, bugs bite endlessly, we’re felled by food poisoning (or worse), we get tired of one another quickly, and snarling ensues.
Go day
We’re actually taking off. The snow at Newark airport is pushed into mini-Everest piles, the runway is clear, and we’re headed Southward toward paradise.
Upon arrival in Costa Rica, we are unceremoniously ejected from the immigration line to get our special COVID-era health insurance validated. To my relief, I don’t get fleeced to buy more insurance. We find our driver easily and embark on our 4-hour trip to the coast.
Our new home away from home
After a visually-thrilling but grueling trip, we arrive at our little casita in the pitch dark. A pack of local dogs greets us with cacophonous gusto. The house is as lovely as the online photos. That first night, responding to an irritating high-pitched hum, I turn off every light switch. “It’s cicadas mom,” says my daughter. As I’m about to go to sleep, the electricity goes out. Pops back 5 seconds later. The neighborhood dogs carry on their conversation. I’m thinking: Why did I leave my creature comforts? My rockin’ Internet, the peace and quiet?
In Residence
The kids and I figure out where to work. Kids are doing Zoom school. The promised fiber-optic Internet is indeed fabulous. Haven’t heard a woof or howl in weeks.
My outdoor office is a shaded porch with a fan directly overhead. My Zoom background is a stylized tile pattern that looks rustic and calm. A steamy 85–90 degrees every day, our plunge pool is 10 feet from my computer. The kids stare into the webcam, a blank background behind, and the school has no idea. Classes end and we head to the beach, body surf, then celebrate family happy hour while we frolic in the pool. We explore waterfalls, complete with parrots and sloths. Costa Rica, in a word, is fabulous.
The experiment is a smashing success! In the dream/nightmare continuum, definitely a dream. I’m damn proud of myself for doing this.
So if I can possibly inspire you…
Thinking your big or small version of “if not now, when?” Choose now. A leap into the unknown? Maybe, but do it anyway. Do it now. Take the risk.
Chances are, it’s worth it.
Pura Vida!
Katrina
