Pura Vida: Part 2

Iimmediately hit it off with Pita, my new driver. He is a large man that wears a constant smile and has a philosophy on life that would make Fonzie blush. After just a 10-minute ride from the beach to my hotel in Paquera, Costa Rica, we both agree to meet up later for drinks. Pita wants to show me around the tiny town. My new friend and his lovely girlfriend pick me up on time, if not a little early — quite an impressive feat for most of Latin America. I have almost become accustomed to the cultural norms revolving around punctuality outside the United States. Almost.

“Pura vida!” he shouts out the car window when he sees me.

I respond with an enthusiastic “pura vida!” feeling like a true Tico (Costa Rican) as I hop into the back seat.

I’m greeted with a road beer, which, apparently, is for the arduous 15-minute journey to the bar. I ask, “Is it legal in Costa Rica?”

“Well, not exactly for the driver,” Pita explains. “But it’s no problem. If we get pulled over, now you are drinking two beers! Pura vida!”

Without a care in the world, we drive in the dark Costa Rican night from one destination to the next. The food is excellent, drinks flow, and the music is loud. Not even the pouring rain slows us down. At the end of the night, I offer to pay Pita, but he declines. Instead, he offers to take me to the Curú Wildlife Refuge early in the morning. Like many Ticos, he wasn’t interested in being a pushy salesman.

The following morning, we drive through the entrance of Curú and witness several deer. I hear there are many monkeys and other wildlife and am super excited to spend the day here. In the parking lot, I’m swiftly greeted by a raccoon, a giant iguana and several monkeys. One larger monkey in particular appears agitated — which, from my experience, seems to be the default state of many primates.

While one of the park staff members gives me details of the many different trails I can take, I feel a gentle, warm rain. It is an unusually hot day, but as I look above through the trees, I only see blue sky. I begin to ignore the staff member as my eyes focus on that angry howler monkey overhead, relieving himself on me. I’m horrified, but the worker ensures me that it’s good luck — all while laughing.

I wander the grounds and notice an opening: beautiful sand that widens to a gorgeous and sprawling beach with hardly anyone in sight. The untouched beauty of these sites is what makes Costa Rican conservation, nationwide, so incredible. You constantly feel as if you’re on the set of a movie but without the film crew.

I do believe people have a strong influence on shaping the landscape of their respective countries. But I also believe nature makes a major impact in return on the populace. I believe the pace of Costa Rican life is evidence of exactly this.

The sand underneath my toes is spongy and cool. A much-needed breeze gives me relief from the heat. As I walk towards the shoreline, I quickly forget about the gift of good luck I received from the howler monkey. I become in tune with the environment and feel all of my worries melt away. This is a reminder of why I travel. Breaking free from the restraints of our own mind and way of living can make way for a new, evolved philosophy on life.

Maybe it was good luck after all.

Trevor Davis, former cidermaker and working musician from Frederick, is a writer, content creator and cultural traveler. Follow his adventures at roguevagabond.com.