So today I’m gonna share how I stumbled upon what makes Costa Rica genuinely unique. See, I planned this neat little research trip with spreadsheets and everything – totally NOT what ended up happening. Talk about flying blind!
Getting Schooled by Reality
I landed in San José buzzing with my pre-made itinerary focused on beaches and volcanoes. First thing I did was hop into a local soda (that’s a small eatery) and proudly showed my plan to a guy named Carlos I met there. He looked at it, chuckled a bit, and said straight up, “You’re missing the point, amigo.” He insisted I ditch the rigid schedule and just… experience things. Already felt like my whole research angle was wobbling.
Watching Where We Point Our Finger
Next day, hiking near La Fortuna, I saw something simple but weirdly powerful. Some tourists ahead of me were pointing at howler monkeys way up in the trees, but they weren’t using their fingers like normal. Instead, they had their lips pursed, gesturing with their lips or chin. Felt strange seeing it. My guide later explained, “Pointing fingers directly is considered rude here, especially at animals or people. We use lips.” That tiny detail hit me – a whole different layer of respect built into everyday body language.
That Time Everyone Just… Stopped
Later that week, walking down a street in Monteverde around noon, it got downright eerie. Suddenly, music shops lowered their volume. People talking just naturally hushed. Even construction nearby seemed to pause. I stood there confused until Carlos (I’d met him again!) walked over and whispered, “It’s the National Anthem.” It plays on radio stations nationwide at noon. Everyone stops. Total silence. Not enforced, just done. Seeing that collective respect, spontaneously happening? It floored me.
Calling Bullsht on Clean Air Claims
Now, Costa Rica bragging about clean energy wasn’t new to me. I figured it was mostly political spin. Real proof? Found that when I tried chatting up an older farmer, Roberto, near his land. Instead of bragging stats, he took me to the edge of his property bordering a forest reserve. “See this creek?” he asked. “That water was brown mud when I was a kid. Years of planting trees, letting the forest grow back… look at it now.” Crystal clear. He wasn’t quoting government reports; he was showing me decades of work right there in the clean water flowing past his farm. That felt honest, tangible proof.
Why Does This Stick With Me?
You know why I ended up seeing this stuff? Because my pre-written plan crashed and burned instantly. I had to listen, to slow down, and actually notice the small things people just did. Not grand policies shouting from rooftops, but quiet habits woven into daily life: a different way of pointing, stopping for an anthem nobody forces you to stop for, an old farmer proud of clean water he helped bring back. That’s Costa Rica’s special sauce. It’s lived, not just promoted. Weird but cool.
