The True Meaning of Pura Vida

I opened my inbox one day to find an email with a peculiar subject line. "Congratulations, you have won a trip to Anamaya Yoga Retreat in sunny Costa Rica". I promptly deleted it but a nagging feeling prompted me to retrieve that email and read it again to be sure it was, in fact, just another scam. Four months after I reread that email, I boarded a plane for San Jose, Costa Rica. A long drive through the countryside that led to a ferry that took me across the gulf of Nicoya and onto the small Pacific Coast village of Montezuma was the beginning of an unforgettable journey…one that taught me an important lesson in life and in living it to the fullest.

There wasn’t much going on at Anamaya Yoga Retreat on my 4th day in Montezuma, Costa Rica. I developed a routine of waking early, watching the sunset, reading in the hammock, taking a dip in the infinity pool and checking emails all before breakfast was even served. On this day, I decided to break the routine and do something a little different. I didn’t want to waste the day sitting by the pool so I strolled down the hill into the village and spent the day exploring the little streets and surf shops and enjoying the beach. The village had so much energetic ambiance. Smiling, energetic people of all walks of life, embracing the day and one another. I can still feel that ambiance now if I close my eyes and bring myself back there.
It was the hottest morning in Montezuma since I’d arrived and the walk down the hill was torture. I was only half way down the hill when a young man on a motorbike stopped. “Senorita, I take you to bottom of the hill if you like.” He was wearing a nice shirt and khaki shorts which gave him an air of coolness and confidence - like he often picked up strange women who were about to pass out while walking down that hill. I usually don’t take rides from strangers but I didn’t think I was going to make it any further without collapsing. I took him up on his offer and a few minutes later he dropped me off at the beach. With a wave and a friendly “Buenos dias”, he sped off.

I walked a few feet to the beach and plopped myself down in the sand in a shaded area and relaxed for a bit. A storm had passed near Montezuma the previous night and the water was extremely rough. I tried to go for a swim but the waves were too powerful and the undertow too dangerous. The smell of Cerviche and Empanadas in the restaurant a few meters away filled the air. The sounds of palm trees rustling in the gentle breeze and locals and tourists going about their daily business lulled me. A dog chased a stick nearby while some children egged him on. A stray cat sat near a food cart, waiting for a hand-out. The rhythmic sound of the waves coming ashore, like a lullaby, gently rocked me to sleep.

Shouting zapped me out of my trance to see people on the beach pointing to something in the water; some brave, fool-hardy surfers were attempting to surf dangerously rough waters close to some jagged rocks. It looked like the scene might end in tragedy but, fortunately, the surfers made it safely to shore. Welcome to Costa Rica – home of adventure seekers, lovers of life and daredevils!

By late-morning, the heat was really getting to me and I started to feel dehydrated. I was craving a refreshing fruit smoothie but didn’t want to pay the going rate of about 7 dollars for one at a tourist trap. So off I went, up and down those little streets, in search of a reasonably-priced smoothie. At the end of a side street, I noticed an interestingly-decorated, outdoor smoothie bar. The thatched-roof and colorful plants sprouting from the walls caught my eye. It looked like just my kind of place!

A free-spirited and friendly, young man was eager to take on the challenge of making me something that was refreshing but not-too-sweet. It took a long time for him to make it as he carefully thought out each ingredient and made sure it was mixed to perfection by allowing me to taste it at intervals. After some mixing and shaking and adding of various exotic fruit, some of which I never heard of, he placed his finished masterpiece before me. For the price of 3 dollars, I received a delicious, orange-colored smoothie in a massive glass.

I stayed at the bar and took a seat. “So, are you from around here?” I asked him. “Yes, born and raised in Costa Rica, just down the road a little bit.” He obviously loved his life in Montezuma and at one point, he asked if I knew what "Pura Vida" meant. To me "Pura Vida" meant The Pure Life and it was what I had witnessed over and over again while traveling through the country. Natural, untouched, simple and pure. He went on to explain it in more depth for me. “That is how most people interpret it. You see, 'Pura Vida' can be a greeting, a state of mind, a way of life. You meet someone walking down the street, you say 'Pura Vida'. You catch the perfect wave while surfing, you say 'Pura Vida'. You have a wonderful day, instead of saying goodnight, you say 'Pura Vida'. You find a great smoothie bar while walking the streets of Montezuma, you say 'this is Pura Vida'. It can mean anything but always something good. Anytime something good happens, “Pura Vida” is the appropriate thing to say.” Made sense to me. How can you not be living the “Pura Vida” in a country that is considered to be one of the happiest in the world according to the Happy Planet Index?

It was mid-afternoon when I started walking up that steep hill to Anamaya. I made it to the top without collapsing in the ditch. There was still enough daylight left to hike to Montezuma Falls. I had gone there the day before and chickened out of jumping off the falls into the pool below but now I was determined not to leave Costa Rica without taking that plunge.
The path to the falls was steep and rocky. I stopped to take a rest mid-way down the trail and that is when I became fully aware of my surroundings. The growling of nearby howler monkeys, the buzz of millions of tropical insects, the sound of the distant waves crashing onto the beach below, the trees rustling in the gentle breeze. The rainforest sounded so alive. It was like the forest itself was living and breathing.
I made it to the waterfalls and again, paused to take in the beautiful sight before me. Beautiful, cascading water falling into a crystal clear, blue pool beneath a canopy of thick rainforest. Before I could talk myself out of it again, I took the leap into the clear, refreshing water. If there is one thing I absolutely hate, it is missed opportunity. I take every chance that comes my way because, sometimes, you only get one chance to do something. And to think, if I had not listened to that little voice in my head telling me to read that email again, I would have missed out on the time of my life and would never know what it is like to live the Pura Vida.

A Week at Anamaya Yoga Retreat - Pura Vida at its Best

In November 2012, I opened my Gmail account, like I usually do first thing in the morning, and noticed an email from an unfamiliar address. I wasn’t expecting anything from anyone but this email didn’t look like spam. So I opened it. I read it. It took a while for it to sink in.

I often enter contests on the internet and many of them are travel related. Many of them turn out to be scams and many of them get so many entries that it would be pure luck to be the one chosen to go on an all-expense paid trip. But lo and behold, this official-looking email did have to do with a contest I recently entered and it stated that I had won a trip to Costa Rica. The information in the email sank in, excitement ensued and than doubt set in. There was no way this was true…but it looked so official. Research commenced immediately. I searched for scams dealing with the company hosting the contest. I searched for complaints against the company. I searched for others who had won contests from them in the past. I searched for the retreat I would be staying at for complaints against them. Heck, I even searched for the person who sent the email to see if there was anything sinister being said about them. Nadda. Everything turned up squeaky clean but I was still in doubt. I responded to the email to get more information. Again, everything seemed very official and all the pertinent information was there with no hidden undertones that this was fishy. And they didn’t ask for my credit card number and that told me that this could be the real thing.

So when it was all said and done, I did, in fact, win a trip to Costa Rica and I have already been there and back and believe me, there was nothing sinister about my stay at Anamaya Yoga Retreat in Montezuma. I had an amazing time and this trip provided me with the opportunity to do something else while I was there; I took an extra week, on my own time and expense, to explore a country that is said to be among the most beautiful in the world.

I left Halifax airport in late April during a snowstorm and made the almost 24-hour journey to San Jose, Costa Rica. No, it does not usually take that long to get there if you are picky with flights but I’m not picky so I chose the longest route with hopes of seeing a city I had never visited before, Houston Texas. I had a 12-hour layover in the city and lets just say my plans to go explore the city didn’t work out well and my failed attempt at making the most out of a layover resulted in me nearly starving to death (everything was closed the entire time I was in the airport), sleeping on a very uncomfortable bench in a noisy area and being bored out of my mind. Unfortunately, I booked the same route home and had to repeat this entire process all over again two weeks later. I arrived in San Jose to the sun splitting rocks. When I had checked the forecast before leaving home, I was disappointed to see that the entire week called for rain in that area of Costa Rica. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky that day and I don’t think I saw a cloud or raindrop the entire time I was there and the temperatures remained very hot the entire time. That was just the beginning of my good luck on that trip. The beginning of the adventure started the next morning when I checked out of my hotel and boarded a shuttle to Montezuma and Anamaya Yoga Retreat.

After a long drive and long ferry ride to get to the Nicoya Peninsula, Montezuma soon appeared. Anamaya was located on a hill above the village. A very steep hill that is not fun to walk up in the searing mid-day heat, so I learned on my first excursion into town. I had no idea what to expect before I arrived at Anamaya but what I was met with far exceeded my expectations from the get-go. I arrived around noon and was greeted by a very friendly staff member who led me to the pool area where I could wait and meet the other guests I would be staying with me over the course of the week. That was one of the best things about Anamaya; there wouldn’t be busloads of new recruits coming in every day, it would be the same twenty-something people from all over the world staying there together for a whole week. No one leaving, no one coming in. With a welcome cocktail in hand, I made myself at home around the infinity pool and introduced myself to the people who were already there waiting. The first thing that caught my attention was the view. It was one of the most spectacular views I had ever seen. The Pacific Ocean lined with miles of rocky and mountainous coastline and the infinity pool strategically laid out in a way to allow bathers to relax in the saltwater pool while taking in that sight. I just couldn’t wait any longer to experience that for myself and the heat was enough to make one want to jump into any body of water that presented itself. How could I not want to jump right in and stay there for the rest of the afternoon? And that is what I did. Others followed and soon we were all relaxing in that pool, a group of people, each from a different part of the world, who just met a few minutes earlier, sharing our first of many wonderful experiences that transpired that week. By that time, I knew the place was special and I was about to have a week-long experience that I will never forget as long as I live. If you have ever seen the movies "The Beach" and "Eat, Pray, Love", than you have an idea what my time in Montezuma was like if you take the main points of both of those movies and combine them.

After our little meet and greet/swim, registration and receiving the keys to our rooms, we went off in various directions with a request from staff to meet in the common area in an hour for the official run-down of our week at Anamaya. There were various buildings around the grounds that housed themed rooms but mine was located on the top floor of the main house. I knew I was staying in the cheaper accommodations because I had won the trip but my room was incredible in every way possible. My roommates had not arrived yet so I had first pick at a bed. Of course, I chose the one that faced the glass patio doors that overlooked that view of the pacific ocean. Imagining the sunrise the next morning was instant motivation to wake up at the crack of dawn. I did, however, find one problem with the room; geckos. Not that I have a problem with geckos. They are the cutest little things that stick themselves wherever they please and don’t really bother anyone…except when they show up in weird place like right above your bed, in your bed, or in your luggage. They were even on the walls of my closet and, out of fear of accidentally bringing one of the tropical creatures back to not-so-tropical Canada, I made sure to keep my luggage closed tightly.

I felt immediately at home at Anamaya. There was just something about the atmosphere of the place. It was so happy and positive and inviting. Maybe the surrounding scenery, the smell of fresh ocean air the sound of waves crashing of the rocks below us had a lot to do with it. Whatever it was, I instantly liked the place and when dinner arrived, I liked it even more.

During my first evening at Anamaya, I discovered that dinner was an elaborate, social event at the retreat. I entered the dining area and was met by dim lighting and candlelight, elegantly set tables and light music to set a relaxing ambiance. More than twenty people who had just met a couple of hours before took their places and instantly started the process of learning more about each other. What choice did we have in such an intimate setting? By the end of the night, it was like we had known each other all our lives.

Then there was the food. I don’t know how to describe it except to say that the seven dinners I had at Anamaya rank in the top ten dinners I’ve had over the course of my life so far. There were four courses every night – soup, appetizers, main course and dessert. All the food was made right there at Anamaya by local chefs, all the food was organic and some of it was even grown nearby, all meals were healthy and I had the choice to request all vegetarian meals for the entire week. Alcoholic drinks were not served at Anamaya except for the last night but we were permitted to purchase our own at the supermarket in town. That was fine with me as there is nothing worse than a vacation spent listening to drama, fighting and stupidity caused by over-drinking, not to mention wasting half of it in a drunken stupor and the other half with a hangover. I was completely fine with there being no alcohol except for the occasional bottle of red wine bought in town to be shared between everyone while winding down before bed.

The first morning at Anamaya started off with me waking up at ten to five (without the help of an alarm clock) just as the first rays of the sun were beginning to appear on the horizon. I walked the few feet to the balcony and quietly took my place with the geckos and strange-looking tropical bugs (that may or may not have been poisonous) and watched it come up over the Pacific Ocean and shed light on the surrounding mountains. Our first yoga class started at 8:00 but I tiptoed downstairs quietly only to discover that almost everyone was already awake and eating the fresh fruit that was served a few minutes earlier. Since returning from that trip, my main staples at the grocery store have been pineapple and papaya, two fruits I had never taken much of an interest in until I went to Costa Rica. There was still a little more than an hour until yoga, plenty of time to send a few emails home and take a quick swim in that luxurious infinity pool.

I understand yoga. I know how beneficial it is to both mind and body. I have even tried a few beginner classes in the past and sometimes practiced the basics at home. I soon learned that the people who actually booked and paid for their vacation at Anamaya came for the yoga. It was a yoga retreat after all. For some reason, that connection didn’t click with me until that morning and I just assumed the classes would be for beginners. Well, this was not the case and let’s just say my first advanced yoga class was an epic fail in so many ways. Trying to keep up with those guys with all the bending in ways I didn’t even think were possible in that 40 degree heat equaled me, semi-conscious in the pool suffering from pain and near heat exhaustion. I didn’t attend anymore yoga classes for the rest of the week.

I missed the delicious-looking breakfast that was served right after yoga because I had zero appetite. By mid-afternoon I was feeling well enough to finally get out of the pool, get a shower and make myself look presentable to go into town for a bit. Presentable enough I should say. No amount of product or straightening would tame my usually straight hair in that heat and humidity. I was a bit worried about the heat by that time and thought about my disastrous past experiences with heat exhaustion in hot climates and that was when I realized I had left my hat at home. First on my list when I got to Montezuma? Buy a new hat and stronger sunscreen. Since I was in a beach/surf town, finding both items was pretty easy and with SPF 75 (I didn’t even know they made the stuff that strong!), I wouldn’t have to worry about getting sunburned.

And so it went like this for the next week. Early wake-up, fruit, breakfast, swim, lunch, go into town, return for dinner and relaxing in the common area…just minus the Yoga. I decided I was not advanced enough for the classes and exerting myself in that heat would be too risky. When my final day at Anamaya arrived, I regretted not jumping into it because I heard everyone else talking about how great they felt. I guess I will forever go down in Anamaya history as the “rebel” who played hooky during Yoga class and went to the beach instead. But I did take something to do with yoga home with me; a new found interest in it and the desire to learn more and even enroll myself in a beginner class this winter.

Although it sounds like every day at Anamaya was the same, nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, parts of the day were structured but no one was obligated to take part in any of the activities. However, most of us took part because the atmosphere was so relaxed and everyone became so close that we enjoyed doing things together. Every day saw a new and exciting activity. One day it was surfing lessons, another day was ziplining and the last day was a mini road trip to another nearby town to have a bonfire and drinks on the beach. If all all-inclusive vacations were like the ones at Anamaya, I wouldn’t mind them so much. I had free-will to do whatever I wanted at all times while still having scheduled and planned activities available if I wanted them. No one tried to talk me out of wandering into town, no one tried to scare me into thinking it was too dangerous to wander around alone and no one tried to sell me any tours or try to persuade me to participate in a planned activity. I felt free at Anamaya. Free to think how I wanted, free to express my opinions, free to do what I wanted and…just free in general. This is a feeling I am not used to back home in Canada. I often feel judged by others who loathe my sense of adventure, my “flighty” (as they call it) attitude that sees me embarking on many adventures and never turning down an opportunity to do something new, my minimalist lifestyle and preference to gather experiences rather than material things and my hatred towards television. At home, many people think of me as weird or abnormal…an outcast. But in Costa Rica, I met so many people like me. People who love life and want to fill it with as many experiences as possible. People who gave up all their material possessions to live in peace and harmony on a beach in Costa Rica. In fact, that sense of freedom was felt everywhere in the country. The people are so happy and their top priority is living life to the fullest and not letting negativity or fear get in the way of that. You can be whoever you want to be in Costa Rica and no one judges you. I guess that is where the Costa Rican saying “Pura Vida” comes from. The Pure Life.

A Broken Camera, A Final Trip into the Village, a Farewell Beach Excursion and...Goodbye Montezuma and Anamaya

Although time seemed to stand still for most of my time in Montezuma, ultimately, my last day there came too quickly. By mid-morning, I was packed and ready to catch my ride back to San Jose the next morning. Getting the packing out of the way early meant I could enjoy the rest of my last day in paradise. Before I set out to enjoy the day, I checked my camera to make sure it was charged. It didn’t turn on, so I plugged the rechargeable battery into the wall while I went downstairs to grab some breakfast.

When I returned a little while later, the battery was charged and the camera was still not working. Panic set in; a broken camera is one of the worse things that can happen on vacation! I tried desperately to get it to work and, by accident, discovered that the camera would turn on if I hit the button that plays back previous pictures and than hit the shutter. It would only turn off if I removed the battery and put it back in and hit the shutter. At least I got it to work even if it was a hassle to turn on and off. There was going to be a farewell bonfire at a beach an hour away for all of us who stayed at Anamaya and I was running late to go into the town of Montezuma one last time and make it back in time.

The ride to the beach was a bumpy and long one. This was the first time I had traveled on the road system outside Montezuma and driving on those deserted, bumpy, gravel roads had me thanking my lucky stars that I did not rent a car and drive from San Jose to Montezuma like I had originally planned. In some places, there was no shoulder, just a steep, long drop into the rainforest below. Combine this with very sharp turns and steep inclines and declines and you have a very dangerous combination. Fortunately, our driver was unnerved by these conditions and got us there without any mishaps except for almost hitting a couple of cows crossing the road.

We didn’t have that bonfire because the beach was practically gone when we arrived because of the abnormally high surf but we did all change into our swimsuits and run into the waves to cool off from the scorching afternoon heat! There was a road running along the beach and I took a long walk to the end of it and admired the beautiful scenery and took advantage of having that place almost all to myself. It was the perfect way to end a perfect week. After a delicious meal of Ceviche, Tacos and beer, we called it a night and piled back into the van. The drive back to Anamaya was even scarier because it was at night…with no street lights.


Back at the house, we were treated to a large dinner complete with wine and probably the most delicious desert I had ever tasted – besides my mom’s blueberry cheesecake of course. The wonderful staff who made my stay at Anamaya so memorable performed a variety show for us to enjoy and than we spent one last evening socializing by the pool. In the morning, a number of people I had come to know so well would be headed off in different directions, back to their lives in cities and countries far away from my own. We had become so close during that week and most likely would never cross paths again. It is a sad thought but, at the same time, a joyful one because I was so fortunate to meet so many great people and spend time with them even if it was for just a short time.

My First Attempt at Surfing...and Overcoming my Fear of Sharks and Undertows

I have to admit, I was a little scared to try surfing for the first time. Some of the other guests at Anamaya had tried it out the day before and they all came back with stories of being tossed around in large waves and the bruises they proudly showed off that evening at dinner said it all. I am only 5 feet tall, weigh just over 100 pounds and I bruise very easily. The water was rougher than usual the day they went and they were calling for even rougher surf for my first attempt. I put on my brave face and stood up to the challenge. Besides, if ziplining, jumping off waterfalls, hiking up a steep hill in 40+ degrees in mid-afternoon and walking around at night in the rainforest didn’t kill me, I was pretty sure surfing wouldn’t do me in. How hard could it be anyway? I have always wanted to try surfing. I heard the stories from surfers about the rush you get when you see that wave coming towards you and how peaceful it is to just let it take you.

A shuttle arrived around noon to pick me up and take me to Playa Grande on the outskirts of Montezuma. I assumed the shuttle would drop me off at the beach and I would just get out, grab a surfboard and commence my lesson. My guide neglected to inform me that there was a 45-minute hike involved and it was very hot out. After spending a good amount of time applying that dreadful SPF 60 and changing out of my flip flops into more comfortable walking sandals, we set out towards Playa Grande.

The walk to the surfing area was spectacular. A well-beaten trail along rocky coastline and sandy beaches that were literally deserted, making for a very serene backdrop almost like something you would see in one of those movies about passengers being stranded on a deserted island after their ship is wrecked at sea.

Playa Grande was a sight to behold with its soft sand and surfboards lined up waiting for someone to claim them and bring them to their calling beyond the breakwater and waves…massive waves. After a very quick lesson on how to hold the board, how to get the board past the breakwater and how to stand on the board, I was ready to try my first attempt ever at surfing...once I tossed aside thoughts of shark attacks and strong currents sweeping me out to sea. Initially, it did not go well. Trying to get a surfboard through very rough breakwater is not as easy as it looks. With each and every wave that broke around me, I lost my grip on the board and was sent careening through the surf, banging every limb off the ocean floor while the board flew dangerously in all directions, threatening to knock me unconscious. It was wipe out after wipe out for the first hour or more. I swallowed so much sea water that I actually got sick to my stomach but I was determined not to give up; I was determined that I would make it to where those big waves were cresting and catch one wave back to shore.

I eventually made it past the breakwater and was greeted by cheers from my instructor and some other more seasoned surfers. I continued to be battered and beaten by the waves but managed to climb on the board, get into position and catch one. But stand up and ride it into shore I did not. I remained on my belly until the board shifted sideways and I was tossed into the surf to acquire more cuts and bruises. Once again, I fought my way back through the breakwater to repeat this torturous routine over and over again until finally, I positioned myself on the board before a massive oncoming wave, looked straight ahead, waited for my instructor’s signal and finally managed to stand on the board and let that wave take me all the way back to shore! And it was amazing. I will never forget the feeling for as long as I lie. That feeling that pro surfers are always talking about. That feeling that keeps surfing enthusiasts going back to the sea in search of that adrenaline rush that one can only feel when they become one with the unforgiving sea.

Sunburned, beaten and bruised, I fought to stay awake through dinner back at Anamaya and than crashed immediately after. I had never been so tired in my life! Who knew surfing could be so exhausting? I knew one thing; I fell in love with the sea all over again that day. I conquered my fear of those massive waves and forced myself to push through when it looked like there was no hope in me ever catching a wave and now I know what all the fuss is about!