Costa Rica :: Part 1

Part 1

I was still enjoying the fall colors of eastern Canada — as usual, not quite finished one vacation before scoping out the next — when one of the women on the tour mentioned Majesta’s Costa Rican tour as her favorite trip to date. Her name was Lisa, and she had been to an enviable number of places in the world but had a tendency to talk about them in a way that felt more like bragging than conversing. Her favorite part of the tour, she said, had been the zip-lining adventure.

And I, still carrying a bit of a need to prove something to myself, was instantly hooked. There are fears I am willing to face in the name of adventure, and heights is one of them.

I think that I am brave. I didn’t know then just how many fears I had, or how many I would face along the way.

I booked the tour for early September, ordered Spanish language lessons online, and went back about the business of daily life. I would listen and repeat the audio lessons during my commute, learning a smattering of the language and few key phrases I hoped would be useful.

Buenos dias. Me llamo Susan Webster. Soy rubia con los ojos verdes. Soy de los estados unidos. Estoy aqui de vacaciones. ¿Donde estan los baños publicos? ¿Puedo sacar su foto? Muchas gracias, es muy amable. Lo siento. Hablo solo un poco de español. ¿Hablas ingles?

I spent the hours between these drive-time lessons facing the madness of office projects. September seemed an eternity away. The madness of work projects were taking me and my entire team to the edge of a breakdown. Then, suddenly, the trip was only a month away. The final tour materials arrived in the mail, and the reality of it began to sink in.

At around the same time, I met Eddie, who had been to Costa Rica years ago, and our first dates were full of his fond memories of it. Talking about it made him want to return there again; he took off just days before me for his own adventure.

Meanwhile, the nightmarish project at work was beginning to wind down; the final presentation to the panel the week I would return. I needed the break, but in all honesty it was unlikely that I’d really leave the stress of it behind, even by going. But my tour was paid for, my time off precious. I left the project in the capable hands of my team, packed my belongings, and winged away.

Copyright © 2010


~ by lorakceel on April 28, 2010.

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