So, I'm going to Costa Rica. One might wonder, "Why?!" and rightfully so. Not that Costa Rica isn't worthy of a visit, but I've just never really given it any interest. The short story, or the not so short story, is this:
All spring I've been milling about Moab, worrying over where I should go. I told my boss I'd be leaving town the first of May, and after days and weeks passed, I hadn't gone anywhere, mainly because I just didn't know where to go. I considered all sorts of options, spanning the map with several different pursuits, from interning on a goat farm in New Mexico to working at a skydiving business in, well, anywhere, from California to Norway. Everything seemed interesting and possible, yet I just didn't quite want to leave. I felt like I was supposed to be off doing something new, and yet there I was still planted in the same old town, for reasons I couldn't explain.
One afternoon, during this confusing time, a new friend of mine, Aaron, casually let on that he has a farm in Costa Rica, where I'd be most welcome. No, I'd never considered Costa Rica before, but it suddenly held great appeal. Of course, I have other places where friends would put me up, but Costa Rica sounded so refreshingly different, maybe because I'd never considered it--it was outside my imagination.
Aside from this special newness, the idea was appealing for two other main reasons. First, I've been wanting to try surfing pretty badly for the last several years, and I've done a very poor job thus far of making it a priority. Second, I love linguistics and languages, yet I've never put myself in a reasonable position to learn another language. Of course, I certainly won't be fluent in either Spanish or the ocean after this trip, but I'll at least have my feet wet... and salty!
I immediately started looking up flights to Costa Rica, and thought that if I went, I'd go immediately. This was late May, and I considered being there for the better part of June. And when Aaron told me he was going down there in late June, I figured I'd be back in Moab before he got there.
However, days and weeks passed again, and I just wasn't completely sold. It seemed like a good option, but I was still holding still, even to the point that I was accepting the possibility that I'd just be in Moab all summer. That is until 3 days ago, when I woke up one morning with great clarity (and apparently no explanation) thinking, "I'm going to Costa Rica." Not so much a decision, as a realization. And a couple hours later, I had an email with my ticket confirmations.
That day that I bought tickets, I was happy to find that Aaron was willing to go to some effort to get his tickets for the same day and same flight down there, leaving from Denver around midnight the night of June 29th. He'll be staying down there for several months, but my return date says August 3rd. I'm very much looking forward to a new place, and also excited to get to do some of the traveling with a friend by my side (especially a friend who speaks Spanish, on account that I do not). For the time being, I'm running around in circles, frantic to check everything off this massive pre-trip checklist that haunts my mind (note to self: make a blog--check). But soon I'll be on my way and I'm quite excited to be so.
As to the months of milling in Moab, feeling like I should leave but also wanting to stay, I'm starting to understand it. I felt like I should be off doing to something new, but what I didn't realize--not consciously anyway--is that everything I've been doing in Moab these last few months has been new. New work, new activities, and, best of all, a lot of new friends. It's been a great season in Moab, and though I excited to leave now, I'm so glad I didn't leave any sooner.
Now, before I rush off to that gnawing check-list, a quick last word on communication: I won't have cell phone down there, but creating a blog does imply that I intend to write something in it, doesn't it? I hope to get internet access once or twice a week, and keep you all up to date, maybe even with pictures. As always, thanks for the support. Friends and family, you're the reason I feel confident enough to wander, and the reason I always come back. Les quiero muchisimo!
