Thursday, August 16, 2012

The First Day

Although exhaustion threatens to knock me from my chair, I feel it is my duty to write a new post before the pell-mell of the year sets in. After two hours of 'sleep', I departed this morning from the comfort of the place that I have called home for the past 18 years and embarked into the unknown. This unknown included huge security lines, a two-hour long conversation with a complete stranger about everything ranging from books, to religion, to aerospace engineering, nearly missing my connecting flight, giving directions to another stranger about where and how to reach the mountains of Costa Rica by bus, and various existential thoughts about humanity (this final item is not so much the unknown as well-charted territory, but is worth noting).  After what I would consider a normal day of flying, I am finally outside the San Jose Airport. Every fear, worry, excitement, confidence, and doubt about the year, about what I was doing, and why I was doing it, culminated as I stood outside, breathing the humid Costa Rican air with my luggage piled in tumbling pyramids about me, and the hum of an unfamiliar dialect weaving in and out of my consciousness. And that is when the car pulled up, Dani Diaz holding a red star-shaped balloon in her hand and a huge smile on her face. It is marvelous how so many of our expectations, both good and bad, pale and dissolve in the clear light of reality. In that car ride home, the tour of the house and the general introductions that followed, I experienced the sweet taste of living in a moment and cherishing that moment. I could end there, but it gets better.
Despite the alternations between 'hola' and 'hello', the tendency to bite on the french word threatening to spill out because there isn't a spanish one to take its place, the frequent desire to even supplement latin into my mostly-english-spanglish, and the joyfully humbling fact that the 7-year-old, Sophia, has been assigned as my language buddy (she works on her english, I fumble a reply in Spanish, mostly consisting of cómo se dice...), my family has already welcomed me so well into their hearts and their homes. There is community here, there is laughter and joy here, there is life just as much here as anywhere else. Above all, God is here. He doesn't check out when we pass through customs, and although tomorrow is sure to bring it's own challenges, tonight brings sweetness, and comfort, and hope in Christ. 

Blessings from (finally) Costa Rica, 


  1. CMV,
    You have a great skill in writing. I hope you stay with it on your venture in CR. G'ma and I will hang on every word and discuss and feel close to you.
    God has blessed your work.

    1. thanks Gpa; it's always good to hear from you!