July 6--A note from Connie

Pura Vida! It's a phrase I've encountered over and over, since the first moment we began planning our trip. The travel literature repeats it. Our host signs every email with it. He said it as we hung up at the end of our first telephone conversation. His staff uses it. And all along, I've been touched by how quaint it sounded and how nicely it created the mystique that so often goes along with anticipating a visit to a new place and a new culture. And finally, I looked it up.

Pura vida! It works for "Hello." It works for "See you later."

How are you? Pura vida.
How was your day? Pura vida.
Is this alright with you? Pura vida.
I'm sorry. I hope you're not disappointed. Pura vida.

It works, apparently, for just about anything.

But suddenly we were here, and our guide Hurben delivered a meditation on Pura Vida, urging us that it was so much more than something to say. Costa Ricans, he said, embrace it as a way of life. He told the kids this visit would ask them to try new things, to challenge the limits of their comfort zones, to shrug off expectations, to encounter life as it comes to them, to dig deep and find the most positive force the could bring to bear in every situation. And in doing so, he assured them, they would experience the verve and purity of life that Pura Vida conveys.

While Hurben held forth, our bus made its way through San Jose. Three times we stopped for directions to a place that had no name for an event Spanish teacher Susan Soares had refused to describe. The guides were confused. The drivers were unsure. And we were exhausted from a trip that had begun at 4 am and 3,000 miles away. When the busses cut their engines on a steep hill, we crossed to an unmarked driveway that fell away at a similarly steep angle.

An enormous dump truck sat at the bottom, as did a large tent decorated with balloons and welcome signs and a tiny house and yard from which Susan's mother, aunt, and uncle emerged. They threw their arms around her. They served us dinner, serenaded us with marimbas, and promised the arrival of dancers. And we watched as Susan enjoyed her first visit home in 12 years.

More family poured in. Time ticked by. The kids' energy waned. The guides became restless. We waited for the dancers--none of sure where, how, and when the evening would finally end, and we would sleep.

And then it happened.

Austin B grabbed three fruits that had fallen from a tree and began juggling.
Maddie asked the marimba player for his mallets and tried playing.
Laura, Nkenge, Mercy, Breanna, AMelia, Aurora, Liz, Lauren, Bekka, Marissa, and Mandy started dancing.
Nick, Brooks, Hailey, Austen, and Katie introduced a young cousin to Freeze Ninja.
Ian leapt from the table and ran to join the game.
Gabby joked and played with another small cousin.
Graham, Jesse, Michael, and Brooke limboed and danced with costumed dancers who had finally arrived.

And Susan walked across 12 years and up the driveway to open a car door and greet her teary dad, who did not know she was coming to Costa Rica and whom the family had arranged to surprise.

Pura Vida indeed.