Round the World N Back Again: La Pura Vida

La Pura Vida

- Andrew J. Smith

The sand and the day were gritty, but not unenjoyable. Quite the contrary. Though the heat was just below stifling, and the garbage and poverty omnipresent, there was a relaxation and contentment I had not felt in weeks. The sky was clear and the temperature was in the high 90’s, though when the breeze seized momentarily, it felt even warmer.

As I walked down the pier from the ship and towards the city of Puntarenas, Costa Rica, the joy floating in the air covered me like a soothing blanket. It was a beautiful Sunday in late April, and all the locals were taking advantage of some time off to enjoy the wonderful weather and live La Pura Vida.

The people of Costa Rica pride themselves on this phrase: La Pura Vida. It means “the pure life,” and it epitomizes the way in which they live. Everyday is a blessing, a celebration, and better than the day before. Stress is a word rarely associated with this slice of the world. You can almost feel these words permeating your lungs with every breath you take in this magical place.

People littered the ash colored sand of the beach. A group of boys were kicking around a soccer ball that had seen its share of boots. Girls were playing in the surf, but running from the bigger waves with squeals of pure bliss. Young couples strolled along the sidewalk with babies in carriages and toddlers at their heels. Old men, dressed in jeans and flannel shirts, found shady corners and benches and wouldn’t leave their post for hours. Vendors of all ages; hawking bracelets, earrings, t-shirts, hand carved wooden bowls, and more, set up make-shift shops of an old table and tarp covering along the promenade beside the shore. It was a bright and beautiful juxtaposition of chaos and order all at once.

My fiancé Maeve, and our friend Jessica joined me. Together, we make up seventy-five percent of the Entertainment Team aboard our luxury cruise ship. In addition to performing in various cabaret shows in the evenings, we are also in charge of hosting all on-board entertainment events. From shuffleboard, to Bingo, to line dancing classes and hosting five-course dinners, we really do it all.

Though a cushy job to those not in “the know,” the stress of always wearing a smile and keeping six hundred and eighty guests entertained 24/7 can wear you down just a bit. Needless to say, the three of us were anxious to escape the confines of our ship positions and revel in the absolute enjoyment of this tropical locale. And we knew just where to go...

We had all been here a few years ago and had made a discovery. When encountering a new city, I love to explore. I rarely ever eat in a chain restaurant, I hardly ever shop in brand name stores, and more often than not, you’ll find me on a bar stool of a local pub chatting to a regular who’s been sitting at that same stool for a lifetime. Whenever I can, I try to use a least a few conversational words in the native language, and beyond all else, I pride myself on being approachable and respectful to every bit of the local culture.

While I may not be a modern day Magellan, I do aim to take in as much as I can, not just what the tourism board wants you to experience. To do this though, you must not be afraid to put down your guidebook and iPhone, and put on your walking shoes and smile. Mindful meandering is the key to foreign discovery, and that’s just what we did two years ago, when we first ventured onto the shores of Costa Rica.

As you make your way through the pseudo circus, down a ways from the terminal, past the food vendors in their more than ventilated cooking shacks, and across the street from the beach, there is a little hotel with a hand-painted sign out front: “Piscina.”

The hotel, and I use the word generously, is not much to look at. Quite literally as it is only a few rooms and hasn’t seen a paintbrush in years. Attached in front is a nice open-air (less for the ambiance and more for the lack of construction) restaurant and bar, and behind that is the piscina, or pool.

We made our way through the dining area, past through the gate and paid our $5 (American) entrance fee. I’m sure many of our more frugal guests would have thought this price a little exorbitant but, to be honest, on a ninety-plus degree-day with one hundred and twenty percent humidity, I would’ve paid with my first born for a pool. I thought $5 was a bargain!

The pool was full of locals enjoying cervezas and each other’s company. Children ran around shrieking and diving, playing imaginary games only known to innocent souls. Teens flirted and competed amongst themselves in the age-old way of growing up. Parents enjoyed wading in the deep end or a basking in the warmth of a deck side sun chair.

Quickly flowing Costa Rican Spanish was thick in the air. The whole scene was frenzied and hectic, but very endearing.

Maeve and Jessica found a table right in the thick of it all, placed down our things, and headed for the bar in search of the one item missing from our increasingly perfect day: Imperial, Costa Rica’s most popular national beer. I had my faith they would succeed and dove head first into the water, instantly cooling and reviving my over-heated body.

As soon as I surfaced, Maeve was waiting poolside with a frosty Imperial. This is one of the many reasons why I asked her to marry me. I took the beer, gave her a wet smooch to the cheek, and then returned my attention to the brew. I took a sip, ah, just as I remembered. Then I drank deep, letting the icy liquid cool my core.

Imperial is a lighter lager, similar to a Corona, but with less citrus and a more robust flavor. And in 100 ° heat, when it’s so chilled it’s almost slushy, it taste like heaven…

If you’ve ever had a Guinness in Ireland, a glass of Prosecco in Italy, or vodka in Russia, you know what Imperial is to Costa Rica. Just one sip and you feel there could never be a better pairing. It just seems to match the sun and sand and air. There are other Costa Rican national beers, but for me, it starts and ends with Imperial.

The pool, though filled with dozens of bodies, was still clear, cool, and reinvigorating. I chose to sip my beer in the sanctuary of this man-made lagoon as the girls found a perch on the side, letting their feet dangle just below the surface. The girls began talking about any and everything, and I just waded around, taking it all in.

Was I really here, at a hidden pool in Costa Rica, when not too long ago I was an unemployed actor, living off meager tips from a failing Lower East Side bar and questioning what to do with my life?

The answer was a resounding yes, and I couldn’t be happier.

Two years ago, Maeve and I had made the decision to take a job working on cruise ships and we never looked back. It had been quite a whirlwind, taking us across the globe, seeing places and things I’d never imagined I would. If you gave a fourth grade Andrew a list of all the cities I’ve been, I’d have thought you crazy.

However, there are negatives as well. We don’t have an address. We’ve missed weddings, birthdays, holidays, and even funerals. We have no cell phone when we travel and pay per minute for Internet. It’s nearly impossible to stay in touch with everyone and everything we care about. But, I think to myself as I take another icy sip and dunk my roasting shoulders under the crisp water, the down sides barely nudge the scale away from the good.

By this point, the sun had gone from pleasantly welcomed to an imposing guest on my shoulder blades who promised to leave his impression even after he left. I decided I should seek solace at the shaded bar, and my grumbling stomach hinted I should order one of my favorite dishes in Latin America.

The girls were still chatting, but I noticed some accompanying empty bottles as well. It didn’t take much convincing to move the whole party over to the bar. We ordered three more Imperials and asked for a menu.

Much like the hotel itself, the menu lacked in aesthetic appeal, though promised to be enjoyable. After a moment of browsing, my eyes fell upon the dish I was searching for: Ceviche¢!

If you happen to be from under a rock, or Middle America, and don’t know what Ceviche¢ is, let me educate you. Ceviche¢ is chopped, raw fish with onion, pepper, and cilantro, all marinated in lime juice, which denatures the protein, thus “cooking” the fish. It is served with tortilla chips, avocado and, of course, salsa picante! On a hot day, when eating feels more necessary than enjoyable, it’s a refreshingly light meal, packed with protein and veggies. Just perfect! Add an Imperial to wash it down, and it may be the best meal ever created.

The ceviche is served within minutes and it does not disappoint. It’s very citrusy, but not overpowering. The fish is fresh and chilled, and I imagine it was swimming earlier that morning. The avocado is perfectly ripe and creamy adding a savory component to this acidic snack. The chips were perfectly salted edible spoons and the salsa picante was not a misnomer. Overall, a delightful meal.

Very shortly our dish is empty and hunger satiated. It’s a great feeling. We decide to return to the sun and pool for a few more moments of relaxation before we make our way back towards our home away from home.

Immediately after my last bite, I jump right into the pool, completely ignoring an entire childhood of mother warnings. I can testify that I did not drown. Instead, I instantly revitalized my overheated self, and after a minute or so of liquid frolicking, it was time to leave our haven and make our way back towards our ship.

We say our adieu’s to our newfound Latino friends, many of them wearing Dora the Explorer arm floaties, and begin meandering towards our ship. Though later in the day, it is a bit hotter than I remember, but I have spent a few hours in a cool pool and with cooler drinks. We peruse the many stands of t-shirts, wooden bowls and artwork, and fake sunglasses. Somehow, each salesman and woman claims to have the best prices. At one stand though, I find the most beautiful and delicate piece of art I’ve seen in 31 years of life. An artist is selling seagull and dove feathers on which he has painted glorious portraits of landscapes and sunsets. The intricacy is enough to hurt your mind trying to comprehend it, and for only 20 US dollars, I walk away with two of the amazing works of art.

We finally navigate through the labyrinth of “Good Prices!” and “You like? You Buy?” and arrive at the armed gate to the ship. Though Costa Rica has no Army, they do have an armed police force making sure no vagrants enter the dock area. We still have a few hours before departure, and though Jess chooses to return to the ship for a nap, a very precious commodity among cruise ship employees, Maeve and I decide to check out a little surf bar across the street.

To call this establishment a local hangout is a gross understatement. Walking in the structure (I dare not use the word building) I feel as if I am entering someone’s home. My eyes fix upon beer coolers that labeled the exact chilling degree of the beer within. The three TV’s are all playing an English Premiere League soccer game and every person in the bar (about 17 men and 3 women) have their eyes glued to the screens and their hands glued to a frosty Imperial. Not wanting to stick out, Maeve and I immediately order the local brew and sit back in the open-air saloon to enjoy the ambiance. Without disappointment, we are enthralled with “local watching.”

These moments of my day where I get to mingle with the locals of any and all cultures is what makes this job an absolute fit for me. I’ve always been obsessed with learning different cultures and histories, and now I actually get to live it. As I’m soaking this all in, a table of older patrons begins to obviously talk about us.

Within an instant I recognize them as guests we have met on our ship. They have seen our shows, enjoyed our activities. We’ve even shared a wonderful dinner with them in the Grand Dining Room a few nights before. They beckon us over and before I know it, there is a shot each of Guaro for us all.

Guaro is the national liquor of Costa Rica. It is derived of sugar cane, and though it has a sweet taste, it packs a less than sweet punch! We all shout a “Salud!” and pound our shots before we can second-guess the repercussions. It goes down easy, but stays a bit longer in the throat than you’d like. Nonetheless, with good company, it is a welcomed show of friendship and we all order another round of beers as we smile, laugh, and agree we’ve had an amazing first week of our cruise.

Let me perhaps unnecessarily reiterate: I have a wonderful job. Though there are common day annoyances as with any career, I am blessed to travel the world, literally sing for my supper, and make many, many people smile while doing so. However, perhaps the greatest part of this crazy journey I’ve been on is the establishment of relationships, often times with people I would have never crossed paths with without this opportunity. The sharing of stories, joy, and companionship puts life in perspective and a huge grin on my face each night I go to sleep. People are wonderful and the more you meet on this journey around the sun, the more blessed you are.

After an hour or so of more laughs, Guaro, and EPL, Maeve gives me a knowing look. We reluctantly excuse ourselves and head across the street to the docks, and ultimately, our ship. It’s been a superb day, the type of day that justifies all the missed weddings, birthdays, and holidays back home. Maeve and I walk hand in hand down the pier, and seem to be floating a bit on a cloud of exuberance. As if a sign from above, I take a brief glance back to the sleepy beach town that’s brought me great joy and see one of the most stunning sunsets I’ve ever enjoyed. Cutting over the dark green swaying palm trees is a blood orange sun, illuminating the dark black sand beach into an almost lava colored red and turning the cobalt sea into a grapefruit shade of happiness. The white crests of the waves still bit the shore and highlighted the scene, while the roar of the beckoning ocean only heightened the moment. I pulled Maeve in tight, gave her a kiss only this type of sunset can illicit, and took a moment to breathe it all in.

We were headed back to work and stress and responsibility, but for this one day, with these wonderful people in this exact moment, I had never felt freer in my life.

I walked up the gangway feeling extremely fortunate and ready to take on anything that came my way.

Today was the kind of day they write books about...

Today, I truly lived La Pura Vida…