Pixie in Paradise

Remember all of the fun I had the first few days after arriving in Costa Rica and making my way to Puerto Viejo? To recap, I left Belize unexpectedly early and under a tiny bit of duress – not dancing, in a little bitty dress. Then, I crossed through three Central American countries to get back to Costa Rica, being picked up extremely late by Carlos the shuttle driver who took us on the ride of a lifetime (action packed/scary) and I arrived to leaking water faucets and a toilet that didn’t want to function as toilets should. I knew there would be no hot water because that was one of the few accurate things listed in the Amenities section on Airbnb for this rental and that’s common in housing here. But, I’d argue that a wobbly glass table with no chair is a “Dedicated Workspace.” I don’t agree that it is.

The cool thing is I did figure out how to wash my hair in the sink with cold water and it’s not actually that bad! However, after staying there almost eight days with five of them requiring the host’s boyfriend/handyman in and out of my house, I said, “fuck this.” Actually it was one of many of those little “shit-fuck” moments I described in a previous post and last week we just had enough of those to make a pile big enough for me not to want to deal. It’s hard enough to stay focused on writing and life in this part of the world but then you take away my ability to prepare food, shower or flush when I poop, and I can be a real B (more like the “C” word). In addition, the two counter top burners – gas stove top, no oven – only had one somewhat functioning burner, the other one didn’t want to cooperate. The one that did also seemed determined to take one of my eyebrows as a sacrifice. Again, fuck this. 

I found only one decent place left to rent down here before Christmas and I got very lucky. For a similar price to the one I originally rented but near a different beach I got a smaller, much nicer, cleaner place. And a cat! This quieter location is further from the shops, restaurants and dancing that I started to enjoy in town, but as with everything there’s a reason for this move. The main reasons, are all the things that don’t function properly – or at all – in the original rental. This relocation won’t be too difficult because there were endless distractions that I didn’t need, those gorgeous shops, delicious food options, and so on. In my new space the new beach is just as close to my house – still five minutes’ walk – but there are only a couple of restaurants and one small gourmet grocery store ($6 USD for a 4-roll pack of toilet paper!). I plan to rent a bike or hire a tuk tuk – which also gets expensive ($16 USD roundtrip), so I plan on only heading to town on select days, once or twice a week, for errands. 

This new location will hopefully force me to concentrate on writing and other projects requiring computer time, as well as finding peace while connecting to a quiet beach with the most beautiful sand. Do you like where I prioritized “peace” in that sentence? Jesus. Have I learned nothing down here? I have, but it’s a process, folks. You’ve seen the memes or done the therapy: growth, just like grief, isn’t linear. In fact, Life is not linear. I repeat: life is not linear. If you’re over the age of 25, you know this. Life can be insanely awesome one moment, then it kicks you in the twat the next – or the balls: equal opportunity.

But here is how I ended up on the doorstep of my Costa Rican Viking compound. Two Sunday evenings ago, when the toilet tank water overflowed and spilled onto the bathroom floor and then the kitchen floor, I had to get out of that place. After sending an S.O.S. message to Airbnb which I knew wouldn’t elicit a response until Monday morning, I started looking online for new places, using search filters for what I needed in a space. Specifically, I needed Wi-Fi, a dedicated workspace, kitchen and a washer. I preferred to also have a hammock (it’s actually a must), and hot water (never guaranteed in Central America), for hopefully under $1000 USD. Less than six spaces fit that description in the locations I hoped were still walkable to stores or restaurants I could find food at. This was the clear winner and it looked too beautiful to be true but I had to take the chance. I messaged the owner/host, Pia, and asked about availability, discount for monthly rental and begged her to keep it on the down low until the other rental situation got settled. I didn’t want the previous host to see that I had already booked something new before they refunded me for the days I wasn’t going to be staying at theirs – the issue was that it stated “nonrefundable” but I had a stellar argument, which I did eventually win.

Pia, my gracious new host, let me move in and I stayed an ENTIRE week before paying her for that first one and the upcoming three more that I’d be with them. She took a huge leap of faith with me and I’ll always be so grateful. Pia is from Norway and has owned this sweet little resort for ten years, co-hosting with the help of her sons, Cam and Luka. They have clearly balanced the Costa Rican pura vida spirit while retaining their native work ethic, drive and ingrained love of nature, something Norwegians are known for. You can see it in the upkeep of the property, and in her hustle and involvement in the day to day operations of the space.

For example, I’ve been here for a week and my new hosts have shown such attentiveness and desire to make sure I have everything I need, to make my long-term stay very pleasant. And lucky for me, they aren’t on the laidback “local” schedule. (This is very different than at the previous place where the handyman said I just needed to pray to god more and my plumbing wouldn’t break all the time). When I mentioned to “the Vikings” – as I lovingly think of them – I needed a towel or sharper knife or even something requiring more of their time or energy, it was done with immediacy and care. When we realized it wasn’t the knife necessarily, but rather the denseness of a Costa Rican pineapple I brought home from the farmers market, Cam and his huge arms had to slice and dice the fruit for me. I do hate asking for help but there was a good chance I’d have lost some fingers going at it with the approach I was taking. This poor guy should be chilling on the beach every day but between me and Pia he now has two older women yelling his name across the pool, instead of one!

I think the combination of pura vida and her Scandinavian approach to living, is what makes Pia’s property exactly what I needed too. There are many words used to describe Scandinavian life philosophies, some originating in the Norwegian language and some borrowed from neighboring countries, but all have the same basic meaning. Below are descriptions and meanings from a Norlii blog post, of some of the concepts that I think Pia brought with her across the pond from Norway, down here to Costa Rica.

Lagom: This Swedish word describes, “The value of “just enough” which can be compared to the idiom “less is more”, or contrasted to the value of “more is better”. This word is also found in Norwegian but they have a slightly different meaning: “fitting, suitable, comfortable, nice, decent, well built/proportioned.” 

This is exactly how I’d describe Pia’s resort property and the dwellings she has created for her guests, set in a luxurious tropical environment. It’s the perfect combination. But, I also think this beautiful location is a bit more than “lagom,” because it definitely has a huge dose of “losji” mixed in. 

Losji: The Norwegian word for finding contentment and peace of mind in nature. 

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’ve never found so much contentment and peace as I have in the last week in my “Costa Rican Viking” bungalow, five minutes from an exquisite black sand beach. The amount of wildlife that I’ve been able to witness is outstanding, having jungle and beach within a short walk is probably the most precious gift I’ve ever received. Here there’s every color of green imaginable, different textures and appearances of tropical plants and trees, combined with endless black sand beach which contains subtle patches of sparkly gold sand too. These two powerful forces of nature quietly command reverence and respect. (Evidence of this was when I witnessed the rip tide beyond that beach almost swallow a man whole).

Friluftsliv: Translating roughly to “open-air living,” this concept is deeply ingrained in the Scandinavian heritage. Friluftsliv is a commitment to celebrating time outdoors, yes, even in cold weather. ‘Tis the season for me to ignore that part! Friluftsliv is the belief that time spent in nature will expand our spiritual and physical being. 

Pia designed the bungalows herself, the front of all bungalows having floor to ceiling tall glass doors and a wrought iron overlay with flower-pattern design on each. Most of the guests – including Pia, who lives there most of the year in a larger two-story bungalow – keep their huge doors open, or at least partially cracked, all day long and into the evening. All of our doors face the lush middle gardens and pool. The somewhat sheer polyester curtains on the two glass doors and our windows are thin and impossible to wrinkle, so we just tie them in a big knot once we wake for the day. This allows us to see the lizards, hummingbirds and lately – due to the rains – the brightly colored little poisonous dart frogs. Pia doesn’t tell us what we have to do with the curtains or doors, it just feels right to keep everything open and inviting. It also feels completely safe.

The other huge factor in that for me is safety. For some reason I struggle with feeling safe and secure, not as a person emotionally or mentally, but physically, in a location or certain situations. It seems absurd to write that because I’m also the same person that just got off the back of a stranger’s scooter in the dark yesterday evening.  As I was ordering my meal in Spanish, she looked over and nodded and in English said she understood it. She said that because my waiter was very unsure of why I wanted yellow mustard with french fries – it’s the best sir, just trust me. My new friend invited me to sit with her and made me eat two of her chicken wings, while we drank Tequila Sunrises, discussing her failing marriage – and of course exchanging pet photos – ten minutes into meeting each other).

My point in all that was that not only do I feel more happiness and contentment in this last week at Pia’s place, I also don’t remember the last time I felt this safe either. I truly can’t remember back that far. Pia’s property has those huge heavy doors on each bungalow with maximum security prison-quality deadbolts but the entire property is also enclosed by ten foot tall fencing. Nothing is getting in unless we want it to. You know, except for Mo, who comes and goes as he pleases and did, walking right into my little house last week, and every day since. He continues to do so because I keep the curtains up and doors open and I hope he does this the whole time I’m here, now that I’ve bought him an entire bag of cat food and discovered he likes oat milk. Besides, there’s worse people and places where he could spend his winter holidays. 

Lykke: In Danish and Norwegian, there’s the concept of “Lykke,”  which is the word for joy and happiness, a general state of happiness with life, often based on making the most of life’s simple pleasures.

We’ve just all around got this one pretty well figured out down here. I’ve found joy in very small, simple things that I never thought about before the move abroad. I’m always overjoyed when a big new bottle of water is delivered for me to drink and cook with. I love walking five minutes to the small grocery for  a couple of pieces of frozen fish and a bottle of wine or small homemade cup of ice cream with absolutely no chemicals or preservatives in it. These Central American countries seem to take such pride in homemade ice cream and there are small ice cream shops everywhere, Belize was the same way. (Yet, I’ve just realized there aren’t many cattle, so where is the milk coming from)? 

There’s no bulk shopping, we are living the anti-Costco lifestyle here and it’s incredibly satisfying. I didn’t say it was always easier, and it can be more time consuming for sure, but it’s definitely more satisfying. The pace is slower and I don’t want to give that up.

Even the way I make morning coffee has made an iteration. Six months ago I relished making my oat milk cappuccino every day with the free espresso machine I got from my last job, then I switched it up to stovetop espresso, Italian style. After my first visit to Costa Rica a couple of months ago I started making coffee tico style. I use a chorreador but since I need to pack light and compact, my method is even simpler and takes time, forcing me to slow down and be present even for making the coffee, not just sipping it. I bought the “coffee sock,” heat water in an electric tea kettle or on the stove in a small pan if it has a handle that’s cool to touch and a pour spout. With a tablespoon of coffee grounds (from you know what country) inside the sock, I hold it over my mug and very slowly pour a little hot water over them at a time until my mug is full.

There are so many more examples of little things that I’ve seen while traveling and tried to implement in my life on this new adventure that will hopefully stay ingrained in my lifestyle wherever I go.

In the meantime I am at peace and very content in this foreign land with my Vikings, and my cat, who only understands Spanish.