introduction

As of today, it is well into the new year, and I have returned home after three long, glorious months spent living in the Southern Hemisphere. Many emotions have accompanied my return to Colorado, but one thing is crystal clear as I sit here and reflect on the past three months: they were amongst the best of my life. You can read my previous entries detailing month one and month two if you would like some context on this final entry. My most significant source of gratitude when viewing the numerous Insights that South American culture instilled in me was a true sense of presence. When the ninety-day mark rolled around, it felt like a genuine part of my being.

29 nov - 02 dec

When I left off in the month two entry, I had already been in my home away from home, Nosara, for a few days with Estephania. However, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the heinous bus ride she and I endured to arrive in Nosara from San Jose. Tepha, being a Tica, assured me that the bus was a better option financially than the private shuttle I had initially considered. To her credit, if we had been able to get seats on the bus, it would have been worth the penny-pinch, but, comically, we did not. After trudging onto the jam-packed bus with my two massive duffel bags full of camera gear and clothes, we found the only available spot: the floor of the handicapped section accompanied by several others. I buckled up (mentally) for the six-hour bus ride ahead of us as we fixed our bags as makeshift cushions and began to read. The second inclination that I was in serious trouble occurred when my bladder started to beckon, and our halfway stop was still three hours away. Oh, Costa Rica.

Halfway in, we arrived at the trip's only bathroom and food opportunity at a local soda. I would consider Tepha and me very like-minded, and early on, we had mutually agreed to sit in our suffering with a perspective of growth and opportunity; after all, being stripped of the creature comforts of America had served me well, and this was just another opportunity to lean in. When the time came to stretch our legs, we were ecstatic and grateful. A short fifteen minutes later, we were back on the road. Just as I’d begun diving back into my book, still on the floor, the bus suddenly stopped, and a stream of police officers appeared at the entrance demanding that everyone exit for a random inspection. This was, mind you, my second of three unprovoked encounters with the Costa Rican police, so I knew what was about to happen. As all eighty or so passengers disembarked, placing our bags in front of us, the drug dog began making its rounds until it eventually sat down in front of a bag - the universal sign in the drug canine world for “I found something” - and find something he did indeed. The search turned up a mason jar of weed for which a slap on the wrist was given and maybe a little embarrassment on behalf of the guilty party. Despite the delays and discomfort, we eventually made it eight long hours later, dehydrated and delirious, confident that we could file it away as a memory that would never be forgotten.

03 - 10 dec

The sting of the journey quickly healed day by day in the majesty that Nosara had to offer. I reclaimed my long-forgotten habit of walking upon waking, the only difference being on a beach rather than on snow-packed trails back home. I made a point to watch each and every sunset during those weeks, and apart from a couple of rainy days, I succeeded. Tepha eventually returned home, and I wished her sincere luck on her bus ride back. After my morning walk, I created yet another ritual of making coffee and cooking breakfast in the outdoor kitchen that accompanied my renovated school bus Airbnb. I worked on processing a lot of content I had captured in the prior months of traveling that I had yet to process and caught the occasional tuk-tuk ride around town to gather groceries and other things. My friend Kylah and I enjoyed smoothies at the Bodhi Tree resort just outside of town, where I also discovered the world’s best yin yoga classes in one of the most beautiful shalas I’ve ever seen. After a few days spent without transportation, I neglected my budget and rented a little Honda Navi to get around for my remaining time - a great decision in hindsight

My last week in Nosara was truly blissful. I did little besides wake up and surf with the morning crowd, return home and make breakfast, work a little, catch a yoga class, lift some weights, and cap the day off with a sunset spent in the waves. I felt like I had created an incredibly authentic and fulfilling routine. I felt connected to the ocean in a way I had never previously, and I made some great contacts through surfing and just being in the ocean. One evening I was enjoying my sunset wading in the ocean when another guy slowly began making his way over to me. Over an hour later, we emerged after talking about life and becoming quick, natural friends. I patted myself on the back for being able to converse almost exclusively in Spanish and for making new friends where I previously may have been too involved in my world. My new friend, Alex, was lovely enough to offer me his house should I return to Nosara for an extended time. An almost equal opportunity presented itself with another newfound friend, Heiner, a local surf shop photographer. Heiner and I hung out a few times in the course of that week, and we ran into each other surfing frequently and began discussing my emerging goal of living in Nosara for half the year and working together.

11 - 12 dec

When I left Nosara, I was sure I would be back and that it would be soon. Heiner and I grew closer and closer as we discussed our dreams and the apparent opportunity to work together that began pressing on both of our hearts. I dedicated time to finding all the essentials I would need should I decide to return and do just that, and to my surprise, I was able to locate them all. A good grocery store, a gym, a yoga studio, a lovely surf beach, suitable workspaces, a house to live in, and the beginning of a good community. Often, when I have a clear divide between a goal of mine and where I presently find myself, I refer to that space as a ‘God gap.’ A God gap is an opportunity we create by inviting Yahweh to intervene in our dreams. We can’t envision the path from A to B, but we give it to Yahweh and allow Him to show up for us alongside our hard work. As I stepped onto the bus to return to San Jose, I left my God gap hanging out there and already seemingly having been fulfilled. I had found everything necessary to live in Nosara, and now all that was next was to step into the gap when the time was right.

13 - 19 dec

I returned to San Jose via bus, this time with a seat, and I’m happy to report that it was much more tolerable. I had a few days to kill in Alajuela before departing for Mexico, which I spent in a grand and vintage Costa Rican Airbnb. I took the bus from Alajuela up to San Ramon one afternoon to visit my friends Josué and Carlos, whom I had stayed with in October. I made a pit stop at the local Lecanto coffee shop to stock up on Christmas presents for my friends and family. When I arrived, we took a little road trip near San Mateo, where they had bought some property and were beginning to develop it - the first step was to tend to all of their banana and fruit trees. Our road trip home was where I had my third and final encounter with the Costa Rican police as we pulled through a random checkpoint problem-free. I spent my last few days hanging out with Tepha in her home city and joining her on one of her work assignments - interviewing locals and taking their photos at a city market. My flight departed San Jose on the 14th at 02:00, so I opted to grab a pizza and take a quick nap before the taxing journey.

I wish I could say my flights to Cabo San Lucas were stress-free, but that would be a fib. Arriving in Mexico City at 05:00, I found myself at the back of a mile-long line of people waiting to go through customs. A bit panicky, considering I had thirty minutes to make my connection, I asked an airport employee for some help, and they escorted me to a separate, faster-moving line for which I’m very grateful I was doubly helped when I encountered the same situation in the declarations area. Luckily, I narrowly made my flight, and that morning my sister Jourdan and brother-in-law Kit picked me up at the airport - my first reconnection with family since being gone. They opted to live in Todos Santos for December, and we shared many talks about the utter shift in world perspective gained from doing so. Spending a week in the Baja with them before arriving home was a pretty awesome and needed buffer. We had a fantastic time eating good food, making friends with the strays (Scooby), releasing sea turtle hatchlings into the ocean, and enjoying Jourdan’s DJ sets on our rooftop bar.

20 - 23 dec

Fortunately, we squeezed in several fantastic days in the first half of my time in Baja because, on the 20th, disaster struck and changed the dynamic of the trip significantly. That morning we went to enjoy a morning surfing at Playa Cerritos. Things were going well, but it was nothing like the surfing I was used to in Costa Rica, with gentle, gradual point breaks in deep water. I caught a few short waves, but when I consistently saw people get tossed uncontrollably in a massive wave that whipped up and broke out of nowhere, I started to get antsy. Before leaving, I took a short break and returned to try my hand one last time. I got pushed a little too close to shore, and suddenly, a big wave came up behind me. Just as quickly as I paddled to catch it, the wave broke and threw my board nose first into the ground and then did the same to me right into the tail fins with extreme force. I immediately knew something was wrong as I collected myself and limped off the beach. A baseball-sized hematoma formed on my right quad in minutes, discolored and bleeding. I took a painful ride to the hospital in an ambulance, and after determining there was nothing broken via X-ray, I was sent on my way to recover for the remainder of my trip.

Physically, I was bedridden for most of the remaining trip, which was unfortunate, considering we were scheduled to swim with whale sharks in La Paz the day before I flew home. I spent a couple of solid days with almost no movement, with a heavy emphasis on taking care of my severely injured leg. Those days served my body well, and by the time the day rolled around to swim with the sharks, I felt good enough to entertain the idea. Until the day of, I had been convinced I would need to cancel this bucket list venture, so it was a relief when I stepped on the boat and began to troll out to a spot where the sharks had been spotted. Swimming with the sharks was one of the most extraordinary moments of my life, although the water was quite murky. On my first dive, I found myself surrounded by half a dozen adolescents feeding, and, at one point, I got caught a little off guard by a massive open mouth coming right at me. It was surreal and every bit worth the little bit of discomfort I felt trying to use my legs to keep me afloat. The following day I was at the airport, being wheeled through security, ready to catch my flight back home. My injury was undoubtedly a hiccup in the grand scheme, but, keeping with the theme of presence, I felt accomplished and grateful for all the moments I had thoroughly enjoyed and not taken for granted.

Thank you for reading, and much love.

South America, Month III