Samaya Prakke 

Post Costa Rica Separation Anxiety

 

I'll admit that sometimes I'd almost gone haywire with the torrential downpours that seemed endless and never failed to wake me up, the bugs that relentlessly fought to devour me, and the inability of my toes to wiggle within my rubberboots. 

Rubberboots that would be there for me when I encountered snakes, built gardens and embarked on sunrise hikes in the rain. 

I couldn't sum up Costa Rica into a blog post, it would be fair. I can however, stumble with words to attempt to do so. 

It seems like an extremely long time ago, but I remember that right at the beginning we went ziplining. It was breathtaking, like an actual version of a national geographic photograph. But where I was trying to take this blog post, was the tarzan swing that we survived.

Basically, you walked out to the end of the bridge (it wasn't really a bridge) to get to a platform, where the instructor strapped you up convincingly enough and then opened a little gate, which at this point was the only thing keeping you on the platform as the ropes tugged you into the abyss. 

At this point, you jumped/got pushed/got pulled off the little platform. For a moment that seemed like forever, I was straight up, 100%, no doubt about it, plummiting towards earth. That's what Costa Rica felt like. 

We were thrown in the deep end, surrounded by Costa Rican culture. Within a month we had drifted along the pacuare and fought its rapids, lived with host families and had partaken in a chocolate/yoga ceremony with a german turned tico at a farm for regenerative living.

I'm currently in a latter stage of the tarzan swing. It doesn't endlessly continue to fall to the earth, it recedes in adrenaline, unfortunately. It swings you violently a couple times, a reality check essentially. And then slowly lowers you back to the ground, the point I'm at now. Writing down my memories to hopefully encapsulate them.

There is something about that moment of terror as you plummit, an excitement that is tired and enthousiastic all at once. Maybe there is even a slight realisation that you are tiny person in the grander scheme. But hey, maybe I'm over analysing. 

I'm going to have dinner now, and I admit I might miss rice and beans two years from now.