Paradise Loaned
A mixed bag of fortune brought us to Puerto Viejo. I love being here and we can stay… if our Humboldt Park house sells for what we hope; if the budget’s right; if we can swing building a couple of rentals in Cocles. Then we can live here simply with a ton of gratitude. I like how I feel here; the extremes surprise, challenge and educate me. Puerto Viejo’s dynamic syncretism gives rise to a way of life that’s exciting and fun. I’m becoming so fond of the constant barrage of visual stimulation. I might get used to this.
I’m happy here- even though my fancy food budget was slashed. I’m getting creative at home. My landlord has a papaya tree and I’ve made everything there is to make with it, including Papaya BBQ baked beans. Whether you’re visiting Puerto Viejo or expatriating, you’ll want try your hand at cooking with local foods. It’s a survival skill for living here and the coolest souvenir to take back home with you. Cooking several meals a week with exciting local foods will stretch your euro/pound/dollar. There’s a farmers market on Saturdays in Puerto Viejo. The vendors are friendly and share information* on food prep.
Though I want to call Puerto Viejo home it’s, in all truth, too soon. I toss the idea of home around and tease out what that would mean here. What’s my responsibility here, anyway- as visitor, as a resident, as someone new?
Dibs on Paradise
My mom’s home was ceded by Spain to the United States after the USA invaded Puerto Rico in 1898. Economic boom on the mainland U.S. opened up opportunities for Puerto Ricans to relocate to places like Chicago in the half-century that followed. Manufacturers wanted and needed cheap labor and Puerto Ricans came! They settled in a lot of neighborhoods; Humboldt Park was one. My grandfather successfully got a hold of a great apartment in a different neighborhood, but was kicked out after my grandmother and my dad showed up. The latter were too dark for that part of town. My family ultimately rooted in Humboldt Park, where my sister owns a bar.
With hopeful determination Ary opens the bar to Puerto Ricans who’ve been playing dominoes there for decades; young professionals of all ethnic variety who are excited to brand Humboldt Park ‘hip;’ and many folks who fall somewhere in between.
She loves the convergence of cultures; “it’s who we are” we’ve told each other in excessively saccharine tones while looking at the Park. But that sentiment doesn’t predominate. Often she worries how to navigate the line between the new and old. Old- school Latinos declare Humboldt Park is home. That’s true. Newcomers remind them that European immigrants settled there before Puerto Ricans ever did. That’s true. It’s a slippery slope; if we go down that road we’ll end up in a contentious debate about the pre-Columbian Potawatomi People- actually there first. And, you know, it’s a bar.
Humboldt Park is not mine, not really.
Paradise Maybe
So here I sit in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica and I’m trying to understand how to responsibly integrate me. I don’t know if I can attain a level of ‘acceptable responsibility’ as a visitor or an expat. I should try. I should know something about the history, culture, and art of Caribe Sur; the indigenous Bribri who live here still; the vibrant West Indian community; and folks from all over the world who made this their home decades ago.
My responsibility likely lies in the nuance of what I do with that knowledge. Right now I patronize businesses owned by a variety of stakeholders; I’m reverent, I hope; and we donate what we can to local organizations. Other visitors offer their skills and time which is fantastic. I want to contribute in other ways- when I learn how. My skill set is tailored to mental health in the US; something that mayn’t be so useful here. Or it might be; I don’t know.
When buying property here a new friend offered advice. He thought it would be good to try and provide employment opportunity for one or two people, maybe build a house on the property for a caretaker. He was helping me navigate this new context responsibly. I’m glad. There are forces beyond my desire to be happy at play in paradise: geographic, historic, and economic realities are- well- real. I came here; I hope I may stay; and I’ll be glad if you come too. Whether we’re staying short or long term humans tend to change things. Hopefully our choices are guided by ethics, humility, and love. Hopefully we do some good while we’re here.
Paradise isn’t mine; it’s mine to care for, though.
…and if you’re ever in Chicago, stop into humblebar and tell Ary, “hello.”
*One such important piece of info, for instance is to soak fresh or dried beans for 5 hours; throw away the water; and cook them for at least 30 minutes to get rid of toxins that can make you very sick (not just here, anywhere).
