When in Costa Rica, you will become closely acquainted with ‘pure life’ in the form of a wide-smile, bright-eye greeting that beams across pot holes and drain pipes clogged with crumpled milk cartons.
“ Pura Vida, Senora!” my gardener used to holler from underneath a smothering vine of flesh eating plants in the back of my garden at seven o’clock in the morning, and it was the last I heard from the armed guard closing the gate after our 4x4 steam ship had heaved itself into our drive way at night.
Over the four years that we lived in Costa Rica, “Pura Vida!” became to signify stubborn serenity in the face of abject nonsense. For Christ’s sake, enjoy this while it lasts. It’s just life after all. This is it!
Costa Ricans, at least the humble majority of them, grow up to be amazing problem- solvers. They take life one minute at a time and try not to worry about the big picture, a strategy which all those whose lot in life is less fortunate may be well advised to adopt.
Being able to switch into a “pura vida” mode from time to tome is something I have worked on over these past years and I am proud to report that I have been able to perfect it to a surprising level, given that all that I had going for myself was relentless perfectionism.
I guess, being a mom which entails problem-solving 24/7 everything from torn toe nails, broken bikes to problem pets, I have turned into sort of a subcontinent myself. Just making it through the day...minute by minute while making the best of it.
It’s an art.
Pura Vida!
1 comment:
You're right; the "pura vida" mentality is actually pretty remarkable underneath its somewhat dismissive sheen.
You kind of think they are saying to you, "Don't worry about all that crap" because you're dwelling on the insignificant.
Indeed, they say this, it seemed to me, but the Ticos don't judge you for fretting. Saying "pura vida" is sometimes like saying, "I can relate to the stress you're feeling, but let it go for your own sake and for the sake of harmony."
It's a pretty poignant message in the right context, and Centroamerica is the place to sweat it out, just not the small stuff!
Your hindsight on the San Jose years is sharp, Senora!
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