In This Jungle, the Wonder Won’t Fade

There’s a lot to love about Costa Rica; turquoise waters, white sands, emerald mountains. The sounds and odors stimulate the imagination bringing to mind fantasies of exploration and adventure in a bygone age. Hiking through the rain forest I couldn’t help but conjure up images of those men, trekking through these lush jungles, every sense tuned to the slightest sound or motion, hearts aflame with the strange amalgam of fear and wonder attainable only when we wade waist deep into the unknown. That wonder, that sense of mysterious enchantment, permeates these sun dappled thickets, like the torrential rains that wash and renew the forest, soaking through to nourish each and every leaf, every blade of grass. It is as much a part of the ecosystem, as the trees and vines, the birds and the insects. Like the heat and damp, it envelops everything.

San Jose is another sort of jungle. Concrete and shattered pavement, glass and wire, cobblestones, brick, and corroded mortar. It can be chaotic, it’s often loud, and it is almost wholly unpredictable. As surely as the metropolis climbs the slopes of the wooded mountains which hem it in, the forest finds a way to work its way back in. The vibrant colors, the whirlwind of movement, up down and around, never linear, never direct. Not haphazard but never quite planned either. The city meanders and spins like some magnificent tropical gyroscope, a sea of color, scent and sound. Vendors hawking everything from DVDs to fish spill out from the storefronts and onto the bustling streets. The city is simultaneously self-contained and bursting at its seams.

And again I find it. Here, in this bustling capital, that nervous anticipation rises so that it’s with a heart giddily threatening to pound out of my chest that I slip across the threshold of one of the neighborhood’s innumerable restaurants and order lunch. I sit and eat my fried plantains and chicken expecting the sense of wonder to fade but when I step back onto the sun baked pavement it’s still all too fresh. I feel like a child as I carve out a niche in the river of humanity pushing its way down the sidewalk. A smile crosses my lips and I realize that as long as I’m in this jungle, the wonder won’t fade. Because I don’t know how to live here, but I’m learning, and through that processes the child in me grows.

The preceding piece was written by our Program Advisor Cameron while he was in Costa Rica participating in an environmental and humanitarian program for five months. He has also shared previous written works on the collective travel blog, The Open Window Exchange. Visit this site for “travel sketches that bypass the big picture.” A place where adventurers of all sorts share stories – the best stories – about the unique parts of their travels. Consider submitting your own story for one of their latest story collections!