My 10-Year Costa Rica Reunion
Six Months in South America, Part 26
“Sometimes, Ash, you have to jump off the edge of the world.”
These were the words my father said when I left Texas to study in Costa Rica, a trip that shaped my worldview in ways I’m still unpacking 10 years later.
My experience in Costa Rica is what empowered me to travel and learn languages in the first place. So, it was appropriate that my last stop on this formative six-month trip was a return to Cartago, San Cristobal Norte, and San José, to visit my host families who I hadn’t seen in a decade.
Do you know that feeling when you connect with people who instantly make you feel like you belong? As if you’re welcome in their space and even though you haven’t seen them for a long while, you feel as if no time has passed? That’s how I felt when I spied Nati at the airport in San José, standing with her younger brother Luis.
Nati was my next-door neighbor in San Cristobal Norte, and I went over to her house often where her abuela taught us how to make arroz con leche and her siblings Ginnet and Luis helped me practice my childlike Spanish.
Nati and Luis scooped me up and took me to Nati’s new home in Cartago where we made plans for the week, which would end with a trip to the small mountain village where we used to live, San Cristobal Norte.
I had a fantastic time in Cartago with Nati, Luis, and their sweet partners. We visited holy pilgrimage sites like the Our Lady of the Angels Basilica, dedicated to the famous Virgen de los Ángeles. We took day trips to chase waterfalls in Bajos del Toro and got decked out in pink to see the new Barbie movie. We went to Maria’s pueblo, “a pueblo de verdad,” and ate at a Lord of the Rings-themed restaurant where I geeked out and made everyone take hobbit photos with me.
Finally, Nati and I made the trip to Irazú. Ten years ago, Nati and I tried to visit this iconic volcano with her family. I still remember us all packed in the car, hearing my dad’s favorite song come on the radio and missing him, but happy to be with people who cared about me despite our language barrier. The rain and fog were so intense that day we barely saw anything two feet in front of us, much less the volcano, but it was still fun hanging out and seeing the mischievous coatis running about and tricking tourists into feeding them.
Now, 10 years later, Nati and I were prepared. We checked the weather multiple times during the week, opting for a day with minimal cloud cover. We drove up the familiar, winding road to the volcano, stopping at the visitor center so I could read about the area and buy a small souvenir chorreador.
We were the only ones in the park when we made it to the scenic overlook and our first glimpse of Irazú. Delayed gratification is often sweeter, and I felt nostalgia and gratitude that Nat and I were sharing this view after growing into more complete adult versions of ourselves.
At the end of the week, Luis drove me up to San Cristobal Norte where I got to see the rest of the family, including Nati’s parents and grandmother. Abuela looked exactly the same as she did 10 years ago, and she even made arroz con leche. I spent an incredible week with the family and got to visit my host parents Lidio and Yorleny, two of my favorite people in the world.
The best “job” I ever had was helping Lidio on the small, family-owned farm next to his house when I was in college. Back then, we would harvest squash and pumpkin, and I planted entire rows of beans by hand. These days, he was growing chiles, and he showed me the different types and talked about their varying degrees of spiciness, sending me home with a basket for Nati’s family while Yorleny gave me giant sunflowers from her garden. Later, I was able to reconnect with their daughter, my lovely host sister Ana, whose young son was now an adult.
It was wild to me that everyone looked exactly the same, and the pueblo seemed mostly unchanged. Even Beto, the family dog who was my best friend, was still around. He was much older now, but he forced himself to get up and hobble over to me as if he knew me after the long years.
As I prepared to head home to the States, I traveled to San José where I spent time with my very first host family. Beca and Nicki were kids when we all shared a room my first few months of the semester. I often think about what that must have been like for them, having a stranger who barely speaks their language come into their space as they went through the changes of childhood. But, they were so patient and loving with me back then.
I vividly remember telling the girls that I put mantequilla (butter) instead of maquillaje (makeup) on my eyelids and us howling with laughter, or Beca reaching out to hold my hand in the space between our beds when I was feeling homesick and missed my family.
Spending time with my Costa Rican host families is what got me hooked on the transformative power of travel in the first place. Not because I got to climb volcanoes or swim in waterfalls, but for these moments of relationship that surpass language barriers and cultural expectations.
I am a different person from who I was 10 years ago, standing at the airport with my family, waiting to jump off the edge of the world. But even a decade later, the love my host families taught me about travel, language, and reaching across cultures, remains the same.
What an incredible experience that you were able to re-visit them again! I feel so happy for you.
I stayed with a host family during a high school summer exchange trip in Germany. They came to visit my family in China a few years later. I've been wanting to visit them in Germany again, but haven't found a good chance. I think that experience in high school inspired me to study and live outside my home country after high school.
What a great reunion Ashleigh, and what a neat sendoff from your father. Congratulations on 10 years on the traveler trail!