Moving To Costa Rica

In the early parts of 2009 my family planned to relocate from small town, Greer, South Carolina to points unknown in Costa Rica. I don’t remember the exact day or date that John suggested we move our family to a third-world country, but I remember distinctly how excited I was with the notion. We were going to travel much of Costa Rica before deciding where to settle. We began to plan and prepare. We talked about how to go and what we would take, how long it would take to be ready to actually board a plane. We discussed what we actually needed of our possessions and then we long talks about what we wanted to own, had we become just objects in our own home? Were we over-consuming, were we complaining about the very lives we’d made for ourselves. The more we examined how much excess we held on to, the more clearly it was to us that we needed to change our lives so that we would be more in line with our values. We started saving the large amount of cash necessary for our travels. Our two daughters began to mention how much money we could put in our Costa Rica cash box if we skipped the fast food and made sandwiches. We wanted to explore and travel, we wanted to more respect our community and respect the childhoods of our children. We had discussions with the children about what five things they would grab if the house were on fire. We asked what each would grab if they could take five things for the other members of the family. How many boxes of holiday cards did we need to reassure ourselves we’d had good birthdays and good Christmases? How many handprints and elementary school papers do we need to feel like good parents? Were we held captive by gifts accepted long ago, or photos and letters we didn’t intend to enjoy? We wanted to narrow our possessions so that our most beloved treasures would fit in a cedar armoire we own. The very best of all our things, based solely on our personal feelings; objects made special by our conditions, not by a price-tag - that is what we kept. A tiny wooden train car, less than size of an egg, it was left in our V.W. Bus. John loves it. I discovered that more than art or any other thing, I treasured a green beaten up wooden tool box. It had been used long ago by John’s grandfather at the textile mill. Riley had to have her blankie and Finley wanted to keep something my mom gave her. Our plan was to store that armoire at my aunt’s house and go to South America with just a suitcase each. We planned to send for our treasure when we were ready to settle. My husband came to me in January or early February and put us on the track to move. We did hundreds of hours of research about individual cities, towns and we even started learning to speak Spanish. We followed blogs by other American ex-pats in Costa Rica, we made it our full time job to read material about our new land. It was very fun practicing with the girls and discussing whether we wanted to live on the coast or in the mountains. We decided that it would be interesting and good practice to try to live without some of our American comforts, or at the very least we would jump well out of bounds of our comfort zone before we actually moved. We cut off cable just around the time that digital signals became a requirement and without cable we had no television. We still had the laptop but no service without short trips to the Wi-Fi hot spot. It was a very educational experience for us. We learned that we liked to play scrabble and we learned to exist together without electronic distractions. We learned to use our television to watch movies on purpose, with intention and as an occasion not as background noise. We started eating together and eating unusual meals, different varieties of foods, off brands, different brands. Knowing the likelihood that we couldn’t get Duke’s Mayonnaise or Jiff peanut butter in Costa Rica we were practicing to choose differently and notice the good and notice the unpleasant. We stopped using paper products and started walking more and more. We began to frame our lives around being in Costa Rica. Our girls were excited about not going to school at first or homeschooling. We were very keen on moving about freely, lowering our cost of living and improving our chances of mere contentment. “When we get to Costa Rica…” It was so common that it became bigger than our family. “Going to Costa Rica” would make all of everyday’s trouble go away. We were evolving yes, for certain, but not fast enough to realize that we were delaying some of our Costa Rica ideals until our passports were stamped. Sure we had sold eighty percent of our furniture, clothing, kitchen items and toys. Sure we had gone without TV and creature comforts, but saying that we would spend more time with each other when we got to Costa Rica was just silly. We could spend any amount of time we wanted together in Greer, S.C. The upside of really focusing on our family dynamic and planning in this way is that you have time, time to dream, time to plan and for us most importantly time to change our minds. Time to change our lives was ours, ours alone. Some friends upon hearing that we would move to Costa Rica were so limited in their imagination were compelled to ask what we were running from. These accusations were hurtful at first and then somewhat funny – we questioned ourselves. What we were running toward and away from and the short list was the religion of consumerism that is so prevalent in our part of the world. We wanted to get away from the fat people at the buffet, stuffing themselves in oblivion, unaware of how sick they made others. We wanted to get away from our own stagnant routine, our lack of enthusiasm for the lovely farmhouse we lived in. We wanted to be away from racism, stupidity and spoiled kids. We wanted to change and so we did, all the way up to the passports. We changed our entire family and decided we would move, but stopped just short of going. We would enjoy a new house, newly built and in a community we truly love. We decided we could ultimately control what happened in our home and choose if we wanted to look away from the buffet table. We chose to accept the simple impending truth that John would eventually be unable to continue to stand for work. We accepted that his limitations would make Costa Rica less than what we wanted. We came to understand that for our family alone, Costa Rica and this trip we had planned had really turned into a journey. We could imagine, plan, implement and concede and build all in a short time, without checking in with each and every family member, friend and acquaintance for permission or acceptance. People that know me have heard big ideas from me before and perhaps one day I will have heard another – the Costa Rica idea was actually something that my husband came up with and I am so happy he did. So excited in fact that I told everyone I knew and everyone I met about it. How incredible it was to think about being in third-world paradise that was mostly bi-lingual, where the schools are taught in English and where our dollar was worth more. I was incredibly chatty about our trip, our discoveries and our intentions. I was also childishly embarrassed when we changed our minds. I was convinced that my friends would think I was crazy. Crazy for planning the trip, crazy for telling people and perhaps crazy for thinking we could do it. I was embarrassed and still stung from the skeptics that doubted our motives. I didn’t get over the initial embarrassment until we started building a home in Taylors. Our values are never constant and neither is our situation. Life changes and being comfortable with the fact that it does is very, very cool. I can’t imagine where life will actually take us, but I am thankful we are here and thankful for now. I can idle or throttle or fly, so long as I pause to take a bearing and navigate for myself. I still want to travel to Costa Rica. I feel like the notion of going there was more rewarding than the trip.