It is a good thing to get away. Getting away is good for perspective. Diane and I have been blessed these last four years to journey to places that were out of reach while working. Of course, our jobs gave us remarkable perspective into human nature and the many arrays of joys and challenges all sorts of people commonly face. We still have that, fortunately, in the life we choose to lead. But getting away is definitely good.

Costa Rica seems to be a place held in high regard for North Americans. Latin America can be an iffy thing in some locations but Costa Rica apparently sits apart. It is one of seven countries in Central America, that narrow corridor separating the massive continents of North and South America and the two massive oceans of the Atlantic and Pacific. The region is not known for stability. Costa Rica’s six Central American neighbors are Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Panama and Belize. Some of these other countries are historically very unstable and the homes of brutal dictators and terrible civil wars. Costa Rica has managed to stay above the fray and has known tremendous peace. In fact, they have no military. At all. They are like an unarmed neutrual Switzerland which, you may know, is extremely armed. It is also a beautiful country with very pleasant people. While traveling a bit, we did see poverty like we’d see in Mexico but we saw no guns, only one or two police cars, almost no graffiti, and friendly people everywhere. In fact, as we were told, the country continues to rank in the top three happiest countries in the world.

Their slogan is Pura Vida. Pure Life. It is like a universal greeting. You hear it constantly. It is cheerful and uplifting. One cannot say it with a frown. It does not ring hollow like that constant exchange we hear: “How are you?” “Fine.” To exclaim, “Pura Vida,” is to speak a celebration, actually. It’s a recognition of what is important and fundamental. It calls into the moment the fact that we are connected and it is good.

While there, we seemed to be surrounded by happy and very pleasant people. Of course, we were tourists and could only see a protected side of things but we have talked with enough people and have read enough to know that that what we experienced was not just a show. We always try to learn a bit about the people who serve us in our travels, be they waiters or taxi drivers or tour guides: Their history and families. You can’t not like Costa Ricans.

One of my great joys was to hear Diane speak with so many people in Spanish. While I can’t understand 99% of what they said … and they spoke at light speed, of course … I just sat back and marveled. They invariably looked over at me and asked if I spoke any Spanish (and I could tell when they asked that!) and then commiserated with her about how and why I could be married to such as she and be so deprived. They also marveled at the quality of her Spanish and asked her how she learned it so well. In English they told me she speaks as a Latina, a very high compliment. I’m a very proud husband.

One of my other great joys was realizing early on that no one asked about or seemingly cared about American politics. While I followed some of the news via the internet, the world of anger and strife and personal attacks and overall toxicity that is the norm these days in the First World, might as well have been on Mars. We made friends with a lot of people. A couple from Chicago, he has worked the past 30 years as a conductor on the CTA trains. A couple from Brighton in southern England. A young woman and her best friend from South Carolina. Couples from D.C. and Mississippi. White people. Black people. Brown people. Young people and old people. No one talked politics. No one expressed anger. No one threatened to defriend someone on Facebook.

Pura Vida.

Of course, it can be argued that the political life is a necessary life. We cannot stick our heads in the sand and ignore how forces are arrayed in the landscape. Power is. And the political life is a natural response, whether for good or evil. It is so woven into my DNA that I suspect it will always have a hold on me and that is not a completely bad thing. But, I resist its seductive draw … its pull to a place that can turn a soft heart hard and to drive a wedge between the thing easily seen and the thing not so easily seen.

And, so, I’m grateful for this past week. For the reminder that life can be so much more than that contained in the western modern mindset. For the reminder that life in a pure state is a place for joy and celebration. To our new friends to the far south: We will miss you and thank you for the time we spent together.

Pura Vida!