On January 15th, I arrived in Costa Rica for what would be the start of an 12 month adventure. I had a job lined up in the city of Quepos, a small sea-side town down South. I had never been there before. Regardless, I signed a year-long contract to teach at a private bilingual school, booked a one-way ticket, and packed my bags.

I landed in San Jose, the capital. Despite my 17 hour journey to get to the San Jose airport, I still had a long road ahead of me. Quepos was a 3.5 hour drive from the airport, and I needed to decide on an apartment. Moving through customs was strange. Its not often I lie to border patrol agents, but this day I did. When asked where I was staying that night, I said some random hotel I found in Quepos. I’ve actually forgotten the name of it. I just needed to say something so they would let me enter the country. The truth? I didn’t know where I was staying. I had no accommodation booked, had not rented an apartment, I was putting my faith in the universe to lead me to the right place (and it did).

After immigration, I made my way to Alamo where I rented the car that I would drive to Quepos. I remember doing everything I could think of along this ride to keep my eyes open: blasted music, windows down, calling family and friends, even hitting my arms and cheeks in efforts to keep sleep from my body. I remember one point along the journey when I passed a serious motorcycle accident. A man laid injured on the ground with a group of 10 people or so surrounding him. Some children used pieces of cardboard and sheets of tin to create a barrier of privacy for the man from on-lookers driving past. I remember thinking he was dying. It was recent, ambulances had not yet arrived. I didn’t stop. This served as a reminder for me, not to let my eyes get heavy, to keep moving forward.

I arrived in Quepos around midday and immediately toured an apartment I had seen advertised online. It was about 5 minutes outside of town, tucked into the jungle off the main road. The apartment itself was on the second floor with square, beige tiles making up the floor and floor to ceiling windows overlooking the jungle making up two of the walls. The living room opened to a balcony that would later become the home of my many plants and a sacred space of morning meditation. The kitchen was simple: an oven, a sink, and a rusting fridge. I remember being thrown off by the rust on the refrigerator when I first toured this place. Now, it is covered by drawings given to me by kids at school. All the furniture in the apartment was made of bamboo, which was odd to me at first. Being from the mountains, I’ve never lived somewhere so jungly. Over time though, I’ve come to love this bamboo, though many spots have been chewed on quite seriously by one of the two dogs that have called this place home since January. I may not get my security deposit back. There was an AC unit – I would come to learn later that it is very old and only works at night when the sun is asleep. What were once white walls are now filled with photos of my travel, of my sisters and my parents and my friends. My necklaces hang from the light fixtures in the bathroom adorning space with beads and shells and memories from around the world.

I toured another apartment after the first one. This one was in the center of town. I parked my car on the side of the road and remember a man staring at me as I waited to meet the woman showing the place, it made me uncomfortable. The apartment was gated, on the second floor. The whole inside had just been redone- no rusting refrigerator here. But also, no yard, no jungle outside the window, no ridiculous bamboo furniture decorating the home.

I called my dad after touring the second place. He let me talk for a while before chiming in, “It sounds like you’re leaning towards the first place, Sophia.” He was right.

Before even driving away from the second place, I messaged Vicky- the woman who gave me a tour of the first apartment – “¡Hola Vicky! He decidido alquilar tu apartamento. Estoy en la ciudad comprando algunas cosas y almorzando, pero regresaré en las próximas horas.” Hello Vicky. I’ve decided to rent your apartment. I’m in the city buying some things and lunch, but I’ll be back in the next couple hours.

I returned a few hours later with a jungle-themed rug, a blanket for my couch, and throw pillows for my bed. Vicky was inside sweeping the floors. I sat and ate my lunch at the bamboo table and we talked in Spanish while she finished up final touches cleaning the place. Then, I started moving in.