"The better to understand what was transformed."- Moving back to the US but no regrets on 3 years in Central America

First off, I apologize to who have written to me offline asking really great questions about sabbaticals, I hope many of you are living it now or planning is going on. I will respond to you!

An explanation for going AWOL virtually and our big change: we have moved to the  Pacific Northwest. Three years ago we left very abruptly thinking it would be a year; we didn't focus too much publicly on the fact that our oldest daughter was having a lot of health problems. (A post to follow about international insurance- buy it, it's not more expensive than peace of mind and it happens to be reasonable.)

One year turned into three but the realization that something remained elusive in understanding our daughter's health became very clear. Finally, we have an answer that is years in coming. It took a young Costa Rican doctor who was an international conference hound to piece together the puzzle and in doing so set off a bomb in our world. This Spring he suggested that our daughter had a hereditary blood disorder.

 The short conclusion is: the minute we learned that there was medicine available in the U.S. (it will never be available in Costa Rica we are told because it is too expensive and ironically enough has been available in Europe for 30 years) we knew we had to come back.

This week we saw the doctor for the first time and our lovely and brave daughter will start weekly transfusions of the medicine just as soon as the insurance can be sorted out. You know it's at scary financial levels when the drug company assigns you a case worker.

There's a lot to catch up on and we want to communicate it all to those who feel a stirring as a family to take a sabbatical. We've been back now for a little more than two months and I've listened to what feels like a million times people probe the kids about living in Costa Rica and speaking Spanish etc. I wish there was a way for you to hear them yourselves, you wouldn't doubt for a minute that taking a sabbatical might be the best thing to happen to your kids.

I was reading an article by the NY Times Magazine's photography critic, Teju Cole and I stopped cold when I read the following: "When I'm moved by something, I want to literally put myself in its place, the better to understand what was transformed. . . how do raw materials become something else, something worth keeping?"

We are completely transformed by the love and friendship that was offered to us so openly by the people of Costa Rica. I will say one more time- try to learn the language, even a couple of phrases. With free YouTube lessons to sophisticated programs, there is just no excuse. I rarely strike that tone but I say it for your own good. I remember vividly an expat who spoke no Spanish saying, 'you'll never become truly friends with Costa Ricans and they won't show up at your parties.' Both not true but I have to say with full honesty that speaking the language helps. 

Our older children knew barely a word of Spanish before we left and now they are virtually fluent; it's possible to take on another language but it takes some elbow grease and the belief you can. 

We are transformed by what we learned.

We are transformed by what we saw.

We are transformed because we have become different people forever- a thorough a dramatic change? Absolutely.

Is taking a family sabbatical an idea worth keeping? I believe so with all of my heart. 

The Road Never Traveled: What We've Received By Living In Costa Rica

The Road Never Traveled.

Three years ago when we moved to Costa Rica, I wouldn't have guessed that one of the side effects I would value most for myself and for our three kids is the constant shot in the arm of facing the unknown. It's never an easy feeling but it's quite impossible to avoid when you are forced to face it on a daily dosage.

"On today’s journey to the future you don’t have a choice between the road less traveled and the road more traveled. No one has been where you are going. No one has experienced the future you will experience. The only choice you have is the road never traveled." HB Gelatt 

It's great when it looks like this:

or this:

and I'd be lying if I didn't say that we've learned not to put things off that we want to do or see and that means getting out and about.

But sometimes, it looks like this:

In your bed or in your room. Twice in one night. This recently happened when we were traveling with Swedish friends we met 20 years ago backpacking around the world. 

My friend's reaction (brave as hell and honest at the same time about how much it terrified her) got me thinking about what's happened to our kids over the last three years and how it adds up.

Persistence. Living abroad delivers you a lot of obstacles. There's not a lot of room for giving up on a daily or hourly basis. The obstacles start looking more like chance events or something to move through, around, under, or over. Because time has a quality of finiteness (How much longer will we be here? That's a real question.) taking action or inaction is easy to spot. 

Flexibility. You have to become really adaptable. There's a lot of 'unfolding' that happens and things that just can't or won't be rushed. One of my Swedish friend's said he would go crazy living here when we attempted to buy him a chip for his phone. The sitcom-esque experience that took place in the shop was just another day on my end but drove him nuts when he viewed the interaction through the lens of Scandinavian efficiency and customer service. I'm not saying for a second ineffieciency should be to a model to follow or that I don't get driven absolutely crazy sometimes, but I have found that it's easier to be mindful of my reaction because it's in my face all the time. 

Risk-taking. There's a lot more shifting of this behavior into the 'necessary' category. There's just no way around it. There was a recent article that was titled, 'The Odds are Better than you Think' that talks about the human habit of over-estimating the probability of something going wrong. And how we underestimate our ability to handle the consequences of risk. Or that pesky way that we tend to exaggerate the consequences of what will happen when things go wrong. . .

Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents which in prosperous circumstances would have lain dormant.

-Horace

In a nutshell, there's just a hell of a lot of chances for things to go wrong, and they do. And to doubt ourselves, and to have to jump anyway. I'm convinced that one of the reasons that people love to visit Costa Rica so much is the ubiquitous zip-lining. The Swedes tell me it's the first thing that pops up in a search about the country. Sure, the beaches and sloths are exhilarating to experience, but it's nothing like facing yourself and coming out whole. Every time (and it's often) I see the kids do it I am grateful for taking the sabbatical plunge which turned into becoming an expatriate family.

20 years ago we met 'The Swedes' on the deck of an Indoneasian ship. We would go on to miraculously meet up again in Hong Kong on a street corner (these were the days before cell phones so that our plan worked felt like a miracle). We went on to travel through China together, meet in Sweden and later in France. We love them in a way that is profound. Together, we experienced serendipity and the wonder that is possible when you travel. Now our collective children are the ones playing hours of card games, fording rivers, and surmising what makes a place phenomenal or 'meh'. 

When we talked about pursuing the plan we hatched 20 years ago to motorcycle the Silk Road once the kids have left the roost, the kids first reaction was, "But we want to come too!" 

The roads we've traveled with 'The Swedes' are precisely the ones I would never ever give up, they've been amongst the most meaningful, exhilarating and fun of my life. 

It's January 2015. How long have you been thinking about traveling or taking a family sabbatical? 

Don't let the fact that there's no bridge slow you down. 

Hiking in Costa Rica: "There's no place to hide from yourself."

10 hours a day. Rainy season. Mountain ranges. 

How was it? "Super hard but great" reports J on the 6 day Outward Bound hike that he and his classmates returned from last night. 

*Love how a night's sleep changes a memory. Today the rendition is, "Not great, but you learned a lot."

"If Ms. Anne (the school director) wanted us to appreciate what we have her mission was accomplished." J came back speaking of how much water, shelter, food, his bed and his family meant to him. Oh, and the bathroom. 

At times, they stayed with indigenous families.

It inspired a deep appreciation for shelter and comfort that was profound. He spoke of the idea that when you're hiking 10 hours a day that everything falls away. You are left only with yourself. We could tell from the whites of his eyes and the rest of him that he had come back changed.

We asked what the guides' role had been and he told us that they 'were like rocks in the river. They were there along the path not telling us what to do but showing us that we decide our way and that we live with the consequences. That there are many paths."

He spoke first of knowing what he needed to work on and that the hike shows you where your weak points lie. And that fundamentally, you are able to endure. He told us that the guides had spoken to them about the idea that there are many paths and that the important thing is simply to choose one.

When I asked him about the highlight his face lit up like a roman candle and what came out of his mouth surprised me- 'The sunset on the last night! We had hiked up so high, way above the clouds. There was no way to take a picture of it." 

Doesn't matter because I know from looking at him and hearing him speak that he holds it within him.