When I was a kid, I got my hands on every fantasy book I could read. Magical forests, kingdoms and battles and landscapes unbeknownst to this reality. The battles were cool, but the woods were the wizards and creature lived – that was always the kicker.
I wanted to live in a hobbit hole since my first foray with Tolkien. I would sit in the pines behind my house and read for hours, then climb down covered in sap and needles. The books were where the magic lived.
Turns out, Tolkien and my team of beloved writers were maybe all dreaming of this country. I can’t account for the number of times my breath has been snatched away in the last few weeks by the scenery around me. The tears that have come to my eyes, and the wild rush in my stomach and throat and heart.
As if this magnificant beauty wasn’t enough, I am floored again and again by the beauty and joy of the humans who keep taking care of me.
On my last weekend at the farm, our neighbors and beloved friends took us up into the mountains to spend a weekend with a family on a coffee farm. I was bowled over by the land around us – the steep slopes and hills on which these people have shaped their homes and farms and lives, and the magnitude of happiness and love that just radiated from everyone around. The family we stayed with didn’t know anything about us, but they shuffled us into a bedroom, fed us amazing meals, let us play with their kids and dogs and, Sunday morning, took us with them on their family drive up to the top of the mountain. We stopped at the top to take pictures and pick and eat sweet limes, and on the way back down we stopped to pick fruit and vegetables the whole way down. We caught fish and they fried them for lunch, and one of the daughters cried when we left.
We walked the hectres of coffee plants and picked some (very, very slowly). My farm and traveling companions, Kaddi and Stephi, two darling twins from Germany, took me to Jaco, adventured around the farm and sent me on my traveling way with hugs and prayers. I had such fun playing along as the third twin during our last days on the farm.
Nelson and Marlen, our neighbors at the farm, fed us some lovely dinners, took us to the beach and took us to see their coffee friends. I already miss them.
And now I am closing out my stay in Monteverde. Five days of cool weather, a world of rainforest green, and the sheer love of the Ficus trees in the woods behind the neighborhood. Since the second day here, when Jorge took me back up the hill for the first time, I felt what Tolkien must have felt when he created the Ent. A truly magical layer has formed over this trip, one of rainforest walks that make me want to lay down in the mossy green and sleep for hours – climbing into the sky in the skeleton of the Ficus Tree, the adrenaline of climbing a massive living ladder and standing at the top, feeling it sway in the breeze. I. Can’t. Even.
And, of course, more beautiful people. Everyone here is so welcoming, and so friendly, from our hostel boys to the other travelers. Everyone has helpful advice on good places to stay, where to eat, what to visit and when the buses are running. I almost missed my bus here, and when I dropped into the last seat, I found myself sitting with a young man/writer/rocket scientist from Noway who was well-versed in travel and human dynamics. His book is this year’s English best-seller in Norway.
It’s an excellent book, even if you aren’t from Norway. I read it on the bus and thoroughly enjoyed it.
I had Christmas Eve dinner with the hostel boys, my new friend Josephine from Holland and some other roommates floating around. Pizza, ice cream, plantains. Christmas Day lunch was tamales and my sheer hunger joy at these delights. My new-adopted family has been such fun.
I climbed the Ficus Trees with Ticos, Dutch and Israeli friends. I had a traditional Israeli dinner with a magnificent couple who asked if they could adopt me, along with the young man who invited me along in the first place. I sat at the table and let the Hebrew wash over me like music, as I find myself so often doing with the Spanish here.
Every experience is a treasure. Every hug and smile and shared adventure sings with its own clarity of purpose. I have a sign at home that says “The Whole World’s My Hometown,” and I couldn’t be happier to truly feel this way. Next up, La Fortuna and the Carribbean Coast.
Love, Ents and Ficus,