Busted Flat in California – Let’s Move to Costa Rica!Pura Vida was his sign-off on his Match.com profile. Pura vida? What did this guy from Montana know about Pura Vida? If he hadn’t signed off that way, we never would have met … or should I say re-met?
What, exactly, does Pura Vida mean? Literally translated it means pure life. Costa Ricans use it frequently for many different reasons. The first time I visited Costa Rica in 1989, I was told to use it often. It never failed to break the ice or bring a smile to the face of the receiver. I learned it meant many things – rather like Hawaii’s “aloha”: hello, goodbye, I like you, have a nice day, relax, everything is just fine, nothing we can do about it, lucky us, things could be worse, life is good, enjoy life, life is short – eat dessert first!
Pura vida brought us together; pura vida keeps us together. Shortly after our first date, we discovered we had known each other twenty-two years prior; he was my dressage horse-riding instructor in Santa Cruz, California, but due to his strict “no dating student” rule, we didn’t connect on a romantic level. Looking back, the timing would have been off anyway; we each had adventures to pursue which, at the time, would not have been compatible.
According to his profile, he was looking for a woman who would be comfortable living in Costa Rica. I had mostly given up on finding an age-appropriate man to share life with, and was on the verge of deleting my profile and moving to Costa Rica, where my parents live, to pursue my writing aspirations.
One little “Pura Vida” changed everything!
Our first date ignited a whirlwind romance! We set about building a life together as baby boomer newlyweds starting from scratch. Due to a variety of circumstances, we were both free and clear of all stateside obligations, and both collecting social security. He suggested we could live nicely in a town called Atenas, on our combined income. I said he was crazy, based on the price of living in Nosara, Guanacaste, where I spent most of my Costa Rica time.
We booked our flight and started exploring options. The first stop – “El Sueño de Mariana”, the magical spot built as a family home, but evolved into an elegant retreat. We drove from San Jose to Nicoya, the capital of Guanacaste, and the last big town before turning onto the dirt road for the one hour drive to Don and Micki’s palace. I suggested we buy supplies in Nicoya as they would be cheaper than Nosara. He said: “Can’t we just buy fruits and vegetables at the Farmer’s Market?”
“What Farmer’s Market? There is no such thing in Nosara.”
He looked astonished. “In Atenas there is a big outdoor market every Friday where you can get your whole week’s supply of food for under $20.”
“Ha!” I answered, “For $20 you might get a pineapple and a couple of avocados! Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it is NOT cheap there. When’s the last time you went to this so-called farmer’s market in Atenas? I think you’ll be surprised to see today’s prices. You’ve been reading fairy tales on the internet.”
He politely declined to discuss the matter any further. We spent a week driving around Guanacaste using my folks’ house as home base. We drove to Marbella, San Juanillo, Playa Negro, and Tamarindo looking for a place we might like to live. Nothing was affordable on our meager budget. Nothing.
The day before our flight back to California, I impulsively blurted: “Hey, let’s leave today and go to this Atenas you keep talking about. You’ve got my curiosity up!”
“No, that’s okay. I’ve already resigned myself to living at the beach, close to your parents. It’s going to cost more – way more, but we’ll just have to work it out.”
“Wait a minute! I want to see it. I don’t see myself as a Central Valley girl, but I still want to see for myself. I want to prove to you that you are mistaken about the cost of living there. Things just aren’t cheap in Costa Rica. When we first came in the early 90s, they were, but not anymore. I don’t know how some of the Ticos (Costa Ricans) can afford to live in their own country. Well, maybe if they just eat rice and beans, I suppose it’s possible. Based on their wages, I just don’t get it.”
So, off we went! It took about four hours to drive from Nosara to Atenas. As we started up the mountain road from Alajuela, a bustling town, a peaceful shroud seemed to descend from the sky. I felt a shift in the universe and a peaceful tranquility engulf me as we left the commercial district of Alajuela. We wound around and around until we came to a sign: “Welcome to Atenas, El Mejor Clima del Mundo (the best climate in the world)”.
As luck would have it, there was a real estate office right at the entrance to the town of Atenas. We decided to go in and inquire about available rentals, not expecting to actually see anything on such short notice. Surprisingly, the rental agent offered to show us three properties.
The very first one knocked my socks off! The casita was in a gated community, walking distance to town, furnished beautifully right down to the linens. It was fairly new with modern amenities, views of the town, and a swimming pool to boot. The price? $750 a month including gardener, utilities, internet and gate guard fees. I was astounded!
We didn’t commit to leasing the casita at that time. We went home to California where I was struggling as a real estate agent in a plummeting market; my husband was battling to stay afloat in an uncertain construction market. We were killing ourselves just to meet the basic food, clothing, shelter expenses. I hadn’t bought a new pair of shoes in months and was suffering from severe withdrawal. We were paying ONE THOUSAND dollars a month to rent a room in somebody else’s house!
Our plan was to work until we had a suitable stash with which to move to Costa Rica. It was taking every penny to keep the status quo, let alone gather seed money! There was something wrong with this picture.
One Sunday morning as I sat in the real estate office waiting for the phone to ring, I kept thinking about that casita in Atenas. With our combined social security income, we could pay the rent, buy food at the farmer’s market, and still have money left over.
We made the exploratory trip to Costa Rica in May; we pulled up stakes in California in July. We gave away most of our worldly goods, packed a few suitcases and started our new life as American Expats!
And guess what? My husband got a job after we moved. Because of us living here, a California based company hired him to cover the Central American portion of the business. Although he travels more than we would like, it provides us with a good income and luxuries we would not otherwise be able to afford.
We are happy living in Atenas. There is a strong expat community mixed in with the Tico culture. We eat healthy food purchased at the farmer’s market that was harvested just prior to being loaded on the truck. We enjoy “the best climate in the world” (this according to a study done by National Geographic some years ago), and we are less than an hour away from the city of San Jose where we can attend the theater, visit museums, and enjoy fine dining at restaurants from all over the world.
Should you move to Costa Rica? It’s not for everybody! We are expats living in Costa Rica. Could you move here and live happily on your pension and/or social security? Maybe. The answer is different for each person. It’s best to visit, spend some time traveling throughout this diversified country and decide for yourself.
Pura Vida!
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