Tuesday 4/1/08 Golfito, Costa Rica
“I swear, the best thing I ever did was pick a team,” Nancy, my Couchsurfing host, said in that heavy, confident voice of hers. She lit up a cigarette like only seasoned smokers do, barely looking at the pack or the lighter. She pulled a short, strong drag and exhaled. “All ticos love soccer. If you pick a team, you can make friends with other fans. You can learn a lot. The ticos will see you’re not just some gringo who doesn’t care about Costa Rican culture.”
I looked around her kitchen. Paraphernalia for her favorite soccer team, Saprissa, the current top-ranking team in Costa Rica’s national league, lined the walls, which, as Nancy pointed out, were painted purple and white—Saprissa’s colors. There was a Saprissa clock. Saprissa flip-flops. Even Saprissa jerseys for her dogs.
“You know ticos don’t celebrate April Fool’s Day on the first day of April like we do in the states?” Nancy asked.
“They don’t?” I asked.
“Nope, they celebrate it some other day. One of my friends got me real good, though, one time on the Costa Rican April Fool’s Day. When I saw him, he ran up to me, all excited. He said, ‘Nancy! Nancy! Did you hear they traded so-and-so and so-and-so from Saprissa to La Liga?! La Liga is Saprissa’s rival, and he named our two best players. He had me goin’ there for a minute, I swear.”
We laughed. Nancy let out a deep hearty laugh that fused into a phlegmy smoker’s cough, leaving her wheezing. I didn’t ask if she was all right because I knew it would pass, just like my grandmother’s coughs used to.
When she caught her breath with the help of a drag from her cigarette, I asked, “So how did you end up in Golfito? It seems like a sleepy little place with not many expats.”
“Yeah, and I like it that way!” Nancy laughed. “I checked out a few other spots in Costa Rica with a friend of mine before I found Golfito. When I came up over that hill and saw the bay and the islands all spread out like that, I was hooked. I knew I had to live here.”
“How long ago did you start living here year-round?” I asked.
“It’s been eleven years now.”
“And has Golfito changed much since you first moved here?”
“Ohhh yeah, of course. I don’t want it to, but it keeps changing. More development with each passing year. They’re talkin’ about puttin’ in a 200 slip marina real close to here. It’s crazy. I just hope this place don’t change like I’ve seen other places change. I watched Key West lose itself to development. I watched Coco Beach in Florida change. Zancudo, a little town on the beach about an hour from here, totally changed in just three years. I’m hopin’ they don’t take Golfito from me, too.”
The type of change Nancy feared would take place in Golfito was almost inconceivable. The town, sandwiched between a small bay and a ridge of mountains, is filled with quaint, antiquated houses succumbing to the area’s humidity, family-run stores where the cashier knows each customer, and old people with weathered hands who look content to keep Golfito just the way it is. The place has a tangible charm, a type of grittiness, that’s rooted in its rusting marinas, storm-battered fishing boats, and neighborhood bars. Imagining a big strip mall or some fancy hotel here would be like picturing a pyramid in the middle of New York City.
I relaxed in Golfito at Nancy’s for two days and nights. She was a gracious host and made me feel right at home. At 60-years-old with a lot of excitement behind her, Nancy tells a mean story and knows how to laugh. Any Couchsurfers heading to southern Costa Rica should definitely seek her out. Thanks Nancy! Until the next time!
Posted in Bike trip: Costa Rica
