Pura Vida: A Memoir about International Love and Growing Up

Prologue

My Essays Concerning Marriage

Recently I came across a series of auspicious essays I had written as an undergrad student. I was majoring in theology at the time at a small Catholic college and taking a class on the theology of a Catholic marriage in the modern world. At the beginning of the semester I was given the assignment to write an essay about my reservations and expectations of marriage. As a final project I was asked to write another essay, this time about my modified expectations and reservations of marriage based on our work in the class, assigned readings, and interviews with married couples. Little did I know when I wrote these essays that within four months I would be married…to a man I had yet to meet…in a country I had yet to visit. Needless to say, the way I outlined marriage in my essay was not the way my marriage was to be –in fact it turned out to be about as close to opposite from my vision as possible. I have highlighted excerpts from my two essays that portray how I felt about marriage before my life got turned upside down.

September, 2002 (19 years old, sophomore in college)

When first given this assignment I thought, Wow, that will be easy! I have had my marriage planned out since I was five! I sat down to brainstorm some of my ideas and found myself staring at a blank sheet of paper. I thought for a while longer and my paper remained blank. I soon realized that my problem was not that I did not know what I wanted; the problem was that I had too many hopes and plans in all different aspects of marriage, but I had never put them together in an organized way… I have come to realize that my main hope for my marriage is that my husband and I will be a continuing support system for each other, best friends and great lovers every day for the rest of our lives.

My biggest fear about marriage is that I will not find the right guy for me. I rule out a guy after only a date or two if we do not have chemistry, we have different goals, our religious or moral beliefs are not compatible, or if we do not have enough in common to hold interesting conversations…Through dating I hope to find the guy that I can trust completely, confide in fully and have fun with. Dating is the time I feel that I need to get to know a guy’s values and opinions on all matters of life…It is very important to find someone who connects well with my family. I am looking for someone who is strong in his Christian faith. I want a confident man, but not someone who is filled with pride. When I find someone who fits all of this, and will also be able to provide for me and a future family, I would like to get engaged…

…my fiancé and I will be able to plan the wedding together with our family and friends without getting overly stressed out and forgetting the reason we are getting married…I want it to be a time to bring us closer together… the tone we set from the beginning will affect our attitudes through much of our marriage.

…I want to have a perfect wedding… I want my sister, cousin and best friends to stand up with me…I want a long train and a pretty veil…I want my groom to wear a white tux to symbolize how pure our love for each other is….I want us to have a special honeymoon. Our honeymoon will be the first time we come together fully as a man and a wife.

…Some of the areas of married life that I foresee problems arising are in raising children, financial matters, owning and caring for a home, friends and sex. Those are the things that I worry about most and also the things I have the most dreams for.

…My dream is and has been for as long as I can remember to have five children. I envision my husband and I raising them in a loving Catholic home.

…My ideal financial/working situation would be one in which my husband is able to make enough money so that I will not have to work outside of the home. I would like to be a stay at home mom. If we are not financially able to have that kind of a situation I plan on doing daycare out of my home until my children are all in school.

…I am my own person now, and I would like to be my own person for the rest of my life. We should be our own person, and yet always feel need, want and love for the other.

…Without being married myself, these reflections are based mostly on what I have witnessed in other couples. Some are taken from things I have seen work with others, but most are from things I have seen gone wrong, and I do not want to happen in my own marriage.

December, 2002 (after completing a course on Catholic marriage)

…My main hope is still that my husband and I will be a continuing support system for each other, best friends, and great lovers every day for the rest of our lives… I will have to use my good judgment and my previous experience to decide if a guy is right for me and if he is mature enough to enter into a lasting marriage with me….I have learned that it is not as important as making sure everything for my wedding will be perfect, but to use our engagement period to prepare ourselves for a life together. This is the time we should go through pre-marriage counseling and discuss what kind of future lifestyle we will want…I think I have very romantic ideas about my wedding, and I need to adjust them because I will be disappointed if everything does not go exactly like I want it to. Later on, when my husband and I look back at our wedding, I want us to remember how happy we were. I want us to remember the confidence we had in our love for each other as we recited out vows before God and our community… The more I learn about marriage the more I realize that there are going to be so many obstacles in marriage that location may not be as big of a factor as I previously thought. I know I will be able to make a home anywhere, so if something prevents us from living exactly where I would like then I will be okay with that… The most important things I learned are that in order for a marriage to work both spouses have to be committed, loyal, and patient. It is also important for the spouses to have good communication with each other and be able to have fun together.

PART I

Immersion in a New Life

Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things – air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.

Cesare Pavese

Arriving in Costa Rica

January 2003

The stars outside blink and twinkle in the immense darkness. I stare at them, my face pressed against the thick double pane airplane window. Down below I can scarcely make out the distant lights from the Costa Rican pueblos breaking through the ominous night sky. I swallow hard and will myself not to think about the bubbles that are doing a not so merry dance all around my stomach. I try not to focus on the unknown –both the places and the people that will become part of my life once we land. I glance over at the other girls in my group. Some are listening to music, one is sleeping and two are writing in their journals, surely capturing every detail of the flight. I watch them writing furiously, as if not to miss a thing, although there really isn’t anything happening to write about. I ponder what they may be writing –letters home already? relationships that have been left hanging in the air? the other girls on the trip? It feels weird to be traveling with these girls that I really don’t know at all. I am sure I will know them well enough soon. We have already been on the flight for three hours and the initial excitement has long since passed. I am bored sitting on the airplane, but at the same time I’m not sure I want to get off it when we land. I glance at the girls once more, put on my headphones and listen to my music (Best Friend Mix, from my roommate Kami.)

I have never been much of a journaler, however my roommates gave me a journal as a going away gift and I vowed that I would capture as much of my trip in writing as possible. As I reach in my backpack for the journal, I envision the things that I will soon write. I expect things like lazy days on the beach, dancing, class, and exploring the jungle. What I am really excited about is the unexpected adventures I’m sure to have. I’m not sure where to start or what to write. I chew on my pen cap for a minute as I think –this feels so forced. Well, I may as well write about the flight. I flip open the journal, but rather than start writing, I re-read, for about the tenth time, the notes my roommates had written me before they gave me the journal. I think about the great going away party they threw for me.

The five of us started out with a Chinese dinner and ice skating down town. Then we went back to the apartment, and much to my surprise (ok, I kind of knew, but I pretended it was much to my surprise), it was jam packed with just about everyone I had ever met and plenty of people I had never seen in my life who heard there was a college party with a keg. I saw friends from both college and high school and the party was already in full swing when we arrived. As I opened the door to the apartment, I thought I did a pretty great job feigning total shock and surprise, but I guess not because in the moment of silence that followed the choral Surprise! I heard my buddy Taylor yell, She knew. She Fucking knew! which was then followed by brief laughter, which in turn was followed by card games, keg stands, and hook ups. Life seemed so fun, carefree and easy that night that I almost hated to leave it behind, but I knew it was what I needed to do with my life. I also knew that my particular life style was not doing me any good –in fact I was not sure I liked who I was turning into. All night I got a lot of well wishes, advice, and plenty of jokes about the men I would meet. Since my cousin Melisa and I had a small obsession with Enrique Iglesias at the time, we kidded that I would meet my own Costa Rican version of the Latin god. Kami’s boyfriend Stan had named a certain body part of his Pablo, and many partygoers warned me not to meet a Pablo of my own. I also got a lot of Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…ha, ha that leaves just about anything open. However, the truth is that I am really more interested in the jungle than the men.

At the time of the party I was still struggling to stay away from Max and our toxic, dysfunctional relationship and did not think looking for a new man a continent away was what I really needed. I was pretty sure that immersing myself in the language and culture while learning as much as I could was what I should and would focus on for the next four months –it would benefit my future. Besides, Max was at the party and he was much more interested in the keg than in spending time with me before I left. And still, I could not completely let go of him or maybe it was the idea of a him rather than the actual him, I’m not sure.

I had called Max during a moment of weakness a couple of days after the party, the day before I left. I was spending some time at my apartment, and all the other girls were working; I was feeling lonely I guess. I think I also wanted to see if I should hold onto hope for Max and me or if it was time to really let him go, so I picked up the phone and called.

"Hello," he mumbled, as if I had awoken him. What was he doing sleeping? I glanced at my clock, it was 10:23 am, way too late to be sleeping.

"Hey Max, what are you doing?"

"Just sitting around, I have to go to work in about a half an hour."

"Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for a bit?" I hoped I sounded relaxed and not desperate.

"Maybe later, I don’t have much time before work."

"Well, I’m going home later and I leave tomorrow morning for Costa Rica, so I guess good bye."

"Oh, well, have a good time I guess." He dragged his words out slowly. Was this really how he wanted to end things? I needed closure because he definitely was not giving me any hope for a future.

"Well, don’t break too many girls’ hearts while I’m gone." I tried really hard to keep my voice light and playful. There was no way I was going to let him hear that I was really hoping he would have said, ‘I’ll be right over, I’ll wait for you while you’re gone.’ But he hadn’t, and he didn’t owe me anything so I was trying to just let go and I didn’t want him to know I was hurt by his lack of caring.

"Don’t worry about me, I’ll be so busy with baseball as soon as spring training starts, I won’t have time for girls. It’s you I should be worried about; don’t fall in love with some Casanova."

"I won’t, I’m going on this trip to study. I’ll be much too busy for guys." I meant it when I said it –it wasn’t just for his sake.

"Hey, let’s just not worry about each other for a couple of months. When you get back, if we are both single, and still feel something for each other maybe we can just start over and forget the past. If either of us finds someone else or isn’t interested anymore, then I guess it wasn’t meant to be." I was surprised, but for once I actually agreed with him; this sounded very reasonable and oddly mature.

"OK, sounds good. Bye."

"Bye, have a good trip, be careful."

"You be careful too. Good luck with the season." I would have liked some closure in person, maybe a hug, but I guess that was as good as I was going to get. I decided I would do just as Max had suggested and not worry about him until I got back, which meant I would not call him or email him or even buy him a souvenir.

Would you like a drink? The flight attendant breaks my wandering memories of the life I am temporarily leaving behind. After I guzzle my signature mid-flight apple juice, I jot down a few unimportant observations of the trip so far, put away my journal and sit back and focus on my music.

The rest of the flight is pretty eventless. As the plane begins to prepare for landing I know that my true adventure is about to begin. My first steps into Costa Rica are at the same time filled with fear and excitement; exhilarating and paralyzing. I am actually really doing this! It still doesn’t feel real to me. I have planned for months and read mountains of brochures and web pages about Costa Rica, but I still feel like I am in a dream. Studying abroad has always been something I heard of other people doing, not something I do. None of my family or friends have done anything like this. I think about my new familia that I will be staying with. I’m sure once I give them the gifts I brought and get to know them this will all feel more real. I take my first steps out of the airplane and take a deep breath and whisper a quick prayer, God, please help me to do this. I know I can. Please make me brave. As scared as I feel, I know I will be ok, I do not quit at anything in life, I will see this through.

I’m walking toward customs when I suddenly feel a lurch of resistance from my big old fashioned roll suitcase. I tug hard and see that it is caught up on something. I stop and frantically try pulling it out. I look up and I see no one from my group…I am separated and alone! Everyone else kept on walking. I feel panicked for a moment, but take a deep breath, again, and concentrate on what I am doing. I quickly free my wheel and catch up to the group. This brief scary moment makes me realize one very important thing; I. Am. Alone. Here. I am not physically alone, but rather with a group of 9 other girls. I don’t know them and they are all on their own adventure with their own agendas. Nobody is going to stop to help me if I get stuck, lost or hurt along the way. Nobody is going to wait for me or check on me. I can do this I repeat to myself yet again. At that moment I burst out of the crowded airport into the tropical breeze and the hustle bustle and sense of urgency I had felt inside is replaced by calmness and tranquility, which I will later learn is pura vida. [Literally Pure life. It is a common expression similar to Hakuna Matata, and embodies the laid back atmosphere abound in Costa Rica.] As our group is ushered away from the airport doors and into the Costa Rican night my new life begins –one that I hope can truly be pura vida.

The first tico, as the Costa Ricans are called, that I meet is Don Jose, the director of my college program in Santa Ana. I stare, and try to keep my mouth shut, at this old man with a full head of very gray-white hair and the most enormous bright red glasses I have ever seen that dominate his plump face. This is not at all what I was expecting. He speaks in a loud booming voice, but I notice, he takes care to be slow and deliberate enough so that we gringas can understand him. As I stare at Don Jose and semi-understand him, I think about how different my new life is going to be compared to the life I left behind in Michigan. Don Jose begins to walk (still babbling on in his loud but slow voice) and we follow. We follow him out of the airport and onto a little bus with a large luggage rack on top. We jam in all of our luggage and sit in expectant silence as the mini-bus speeds away from the airport and into the darkness.

I stare as the tropical trees fly by the side of the bus in a frenzied blur. I listen to the warm but refreshing air navigate in one set of windows and out the other set and instantly have visions of the beachy breezes that await me. We have almost arrived! As we approach Santa Ana I wonder some more about my familia. I hope they have kids; I brought some toys to give them. I also brought a photo album of my family back home to share. I really look forward to becoming a part of this family and learning from them, and although I love my real family, I secretly hope that my new familia is not as screwed up as them and that we can all just be happy together. Don Jose gives us a cinco minutos heads up and I feel my excitement and nerves escalate more. I have a great feeling that I am really going to like my Costa Rican family.

Meeting My Family

The bus stops and we all get out and stand nervously behind Don Jose. Suddenly even the chattiest girls in the group are silent. There are a lot of people watching us; some on foot, some with cars. The families stare at us like we are animals on display in the zoo. Likewise, we stare right back at them. These families are to be like our own for the next four months. We will soon get to know these strangers very well as we live with them day in and day out in their homes. We continue our mutual staring until Don Jose breaks the silence and all attention averts to him; There are two families that are not here because they don’t have cars. I will bring those of you staying with them to your houses after everyone else gets settled, explains Don Jose. Great, with my luck one of them will be my family, I think and then quickly remind myself to stop worrying and think positively.

I stand back in scared silence and watch as one by one each student is paired up with a family –all except Jenna and me. I watch as each student leaves with her new family. They all seem like they bonded instantly; everyone is already engaged in animated conversation with a few laughs infiltrating their easy talk as they make their way toward their homes. The chatter of their conversations begins to quietly fade as they walk or drive further away from the gathering place. The families I saw leaving were like the families I long to belong to…a mom, dad, a couple of kids. Everyone seemed so happy.

I had promised myself I would not worry about my real family, and I would have fun with my new family, but as I stand there alone I cannot help but think about them. Just last week I met my mom’s new boyfriend; Ken, and just days before I left she broke the news –she is in love. I should have been happy; it is what I wanted for her. Since as long as I can remember I had wanted her to divorce my dad and meet someone who would treat her nice and act like a loving father to us. From what I have seen and heard of Ken so far, he has the potential to be that loving father and husband figure, and yet when my mom told me she was in love I reacted like a spoiled brat. Something deep inside me hurt when I heard the news. I can still see that sparkle in her eyes that I don’t ever remember having seen before, the excitement in her voice as she confided in me as if we were girlfriends rather than mother and daughter. "Andi, I’m in love!" "Your what!?" Her voice went down a tone in excitement, the glow drained from her face. "I’m in love with Ken. I thought I should tell you before you leave, I thought you would be excited… Well, I’m not, I don’t want to hear about my mom being in love, you barely even know him! What about us kids?" Such an outburst was very uncharacteristic of me; I was usually the calm, patient and optimistic child of the family. The second the words left my mouth I regretted them, but I was too hurt and embarrassed to apologize, instead I stormed to my room, leaving my mom in tears and slamming my door behind me. As I lay in my bed that night I felt so alone, and I again feel like that standing here and waiting for a family in Costa Rica –a family that never showed up. I never did apologize to my mom like I should have, but things have already returned to normal between us, and I sure wish she was with me right now on my first night in Costa Rica. I am glad that at least it is Jenna that remains alone with me because she and Kathy are the only ones in the group I even remotely know. At least I am not the only one without a family waiting to greet me. The two of us re-board the mini-bus with Don Jose. I really hope we stop at my house first. I silently will the bus to my unknown address. I don’t know why, but the thought of being all alone on a bus with and old fat man I don’t know scares me to death. The bus stops. Don Jose stands (in what seems like slow motion –all of a sudden everything feels like a slow motion dream) and says in his booming voice, Jenna, this is your house. I’m sure she actually bounds down the steps and toward her new home, but it feels as if she takes ten minutes and then the bus takes another five to close its door and begin accelerating toward my new home.

I bravely hold back the tears that so badly want to spill out as I watch Jenna go down the steps. It is just my luck. Now I am truly alone, physically and in spirit. Well, I guess I am not really alone, I am still with Don Jose, but I don’t count him because he is still a stranger. Gosh, I sound like a five year old afraid of stranger danger. What has gotten into me? It only takes five minutes, but it feels like five hours till we arrive at my house. I am so nervous, and the tears continue to threaten their release, so I just concentrate on my breathing: in, out, in, out, in… I can do this, I can do this, I can do this. My heart beats so hard that I wouldn’t be surprised if it jumps right out of my chest. But, here I am, far, far away from Michigan and I have no alternative but to be brave and meet my new family. My feet mechanically carry me off the bus and to the front door of a cute white house. In the doorway stands a stern looking older woman. She seems to be about sixty years old, the same as my grandma. My first thought is ok, maybe the family lives with their grandma.

I’d like to introduce you to Emma, Don Jose says and then he is gone. He left me! I am really alone with a strange woman. And what about the family? I look to the left. I look to the right. All I see is an old woman. An old woman and me. Alone.

In an instant I feel a familiar lonely feeling. It is the same feeling I had my first night at college. When my mom said good-bye and left me alone with my roommate, Kami, I felt like there was a golf ball stuck in my throat. We looked at each other and neither knew what to say to the other. I