“Nobody can discover the world for somebody else. Only when we discover it for ourselves does it become common ground and a common bond and we cease to be alone.” -Wendell Berry
Yesterday, I opted to end my 10 days in Costa Rica with a walking tour of San Jose. It’s an easy way to squeeze in history, exercise, and tourism in a short amount of time. There were six of us tourists, all solo travellers. The interesting thing when you travel solo is you are out of your comfort zone, no familiar friends or family to converse with, and you have the opportunity to have conversations with people around the world.
On the tour, my only fellow American spent the past week clowning around Costa Rica. She literally was clowning, through an organization run by the infamous Patch Adams. They spread smiles around the world through comedic performance. We were an international group from Ecuador, Colombia, Netherlands, and Scotland. One was brought here for work, another has moved here temporarily as a digital nomad, and most for pure pleasure.
The day unfolded without much plans, we walked the laid out path our guide had set for us. But then we inquired about the restaurant he recommended La Esquinita de la Abuela (Grandma’s corner), an awe inspiring place with a cheap menu and local cuisine, decorated as one’s grandmother’s home would be. Our guide stated “you know how minimalism is popular, but Central America is not that. Minimalism is boring, we are maximalists. And this is decorated with maximalism.” In the corner of the restaurant, where chicken soup was being served, was an homage to St. Martin de Porres with brooms next to him. Upon exploration of who this Saint was and why was he here, he was a mixed race friar from Peru. He’s the saint for social justice, racial harmony, and mixed race people. The broom served as a symbol that all work was sacred, regardless of how small the task. I felt that in this restaurant that served authentic Costa Rican cuisine in it’s kitchy plates and glasses. The love was offered to all who entered.
We listened to local stories our guide shared with us over lunch, such as who was author Jose Leon Sanchez. He allegedly stole La Negrita (the beloved Black Madonna) and condemned to jail for years, and upon release fleeing Costa Rica, and found fame in Mexico City. We heard about a tradition of people wearing folk masks in small towns, who look like pinata heads but the opposite occurs. Instead of this pinata like figure being hit, you are hit with a stick, “you know what you may happen if you are too close.”
It was as if some of us didn’t want it to end. We enjoyed wandering (flaneuring) the streets taking in the recommended restaurants, cafes, and markets. The 2 ½ hour tour extended to over 8 hours, as we shared our professions, travel history, political views of our countries, and dreams over coffee and shared desserts. We stumbled to one of the top 100 cafes in the world, and also one of the most beautiful in the local theater. Our guide told us, if we couldn’t make it to a show, we could get a peak of the theater while walking to the restroom.
As we walked the streets, I was reminded of the film Before Sunrise, without the romance, and instead of two main characters, there were four. Who knows if we will see each other again, I made sure to share our contacts. Life has a funny way of working out, “we may end up meeting in another country” I told a fellow traveller as I gave her a hug goodbye.
As we meet strangers, when we travel solo, we have the opportunity to pause and reflect on who we are in this moment, where we’ve come from, and where we opt to go. What are the stories you choose to share? Where are the destinations you hope to go? What type of life are you stepping into when you return home? Where is home, and will home change? All of this occurs within the backdrop of an unfamiliar country, which adds to the allure of the fleeting moment. I can’t help but notice the nomadic wanderluster arises in me at times like this. The 25 year old backpacker who visited 15 countries in one summer, and so many hopes before landing my first full time job. Do I forever want to wander? Will I ever find one home? At moments like this, I don’t just meet new friends, but meet that old version of myself who still longs for adventure, wonder, and feels ephemeral.
When’s the last time you’ve met that version of yourself?
It Only Takes A Smile 