Pura Vida Short Story

Pura Vida

We’ve all been on a vacation. Florida, The Bahamas, California. We’ve all been somewhere and I went somewhere. The whole way there I tried to act like a seasoned traveler, like I knew what I was doing. But I was a newbie. I had never travelled without my family. I had never left the East Coast and here I was, on a flight to Costa Rica with 20 of my peers and teachers. I have the window seat. So I sit down in my pajamas and wait to see who will sit next to me. I move my things around and get situated, close my eyes. And we’re off. Well, my “nap” only lasted about 20 minutes, so I decided to look out the window and enjoy the scenery. After the 5th hour I was probably hallucinating, because there was no scenery at 36,000 feet. It was

3 am. So, after six hours, we landed in the dark. We didn’t even know what the country we were staying at looked like. Our first impression of Costa Rica was pitch black.
However, after being there for two weeks that could not be further from the truth. Costa Rica was exploding with color. It was so happy. The trees, the flowers, the beach. I swear the sky was a “happier” blue there. When we arrived to our hotel, after a two hour bus ride, with no air conditioning, it was not what I had thought it would be. It was not a “Hilton Garden Inn” or a “Comfort Inn”. It was a surf camp. It was a blue concrete building with some white details. There were large potted flowers everywhere. Red, purple, yellow, any type of flower. I looked up into the palm trees that hung over the building and saw a crowd of birds swoop down and land on the edge of the pool. They were quawking to a point where I couldn't hear the man showing us to our room. Everything was outside. The pool, the restaurant, everything except our beds. Four girls and myself stayed in a large room. There were five beds set up in a row.

Each equipped with a white cotton sheet and a pillow. At the back of the room there was a door and behind it was a toilet and a sink. “So… where do we shower?” my friend asked. Good question. After unpacking we explored the grounds of the camp and became friendly with some of the instructors. I decided to take a walk down to the beach. I sat in the sand and I just absorbed it all. I closed my eyes for a few seconds before feeling a tap on my leg. I opened my eyes and there was a small child smiling at me, probably about 2 years old. I was sort of startled because there was a random toddler sitting with me. But her sweet, gray eyes quickly made me realize that she was harmless and just looking for a friend. “Hola!” I said. And she just giggled. Soon after, a boy came running over. He yelled a few things at her in Spanish and scooped her up and took her away. Then he was back. “I am so sorry. She is my sister. She is looking for our mom. She’s gone.” Well it turns out their mom has been “gone” for 6 months. For the rest of my time there, I could not stop thinking about these children and what would happen to the girl with the sweet, gray eyes. Day after day we learned to surf. We raced into the salty, blue water. There

were no rocks, no seaweed, I didn’t even see any fish. Just the waves. I wasn’t the best, but I didn’t care. You know, you’d see a wave, ride the wave and fall. It’s simple and it’s dumb but it was frustrating. But we all fell and we all kept surfing. When we came in, there was always food ready. Every type of exotic fruit imaginable, arranged in a way that looked like a work of art. Everyday we got to enjoy this food. We were really experiencing the culture. Towards the end of the trip I decided to sit out a surf session. I walked the beach for a while and there she was. I saw the girl. She was splashing at the edge of the water, all alone. I walked over and I smiled at her. I thought of how her mother was gone. She bounced towards me and put her arms up. So… I bent over and picked her up. I laughed and giggled with her and sang her a song in Spanish. Back at the camp, I told one of my instructors about her. He knew immediately who she was. “Negra” was her name, it was his neighbor. He told me that her mother passed away after she gave birth to Negra’s sister about 6 months ago. My heart sunk and I remember thinking how could something so awful happen in such a beautiful place and to such a beautiful child. I thought about this the whole way back to Boston. I did not sleep in the airports. I did not sleep on the plane. I did not sleep the night I got home. I just thought of Negra.
As I begin to close, you’re probably thinking to yourself, “How is this an educational experience?” Here’s how.

It taught me important skills that cannot necessarily be taught in a classroom. There are many important traits that make up a “well-rounded” student, or even just a well-rounded person. Things like being caring, open-minded, reflective and even a risk taker. They are all very important aspects of being a successful student and person. I learned so much about these traits while on this trip. I learned the importance of being caring. It is always important to be caring. I learned to be open-minded. So open-minded. I had never been to another country. Never flown without my family. And I did it anyways. I was a risk-taker. And lastly, this trip forced me to be reflective. I thought about it for a long time while I was home. I have even thought about returning and doing a study abroad program. I thought about the food and the music and the beaches but the one thing that I could not get off my mind was that sweet child. Meeting that young girl and coming in contact with her sweet demeanor and contagious laugh motivated me. It made me want to be around people with that same character. It made me want to be with children, everyday. And it made me want to begin the path of becoming a Pediatric Nurse Practitioner. This trip was extremely influential in helping me decide my future. So here I am 6 months later enrolled in a Nursing program. It was greatly because of the

lessons learned in Costa Rica that I am here today, pursuing this career. So, looking forward to the future, each time I become overwhelmed with school work I will think of Negra, what motivated me to take this path.