“Where do you want to go to college?” 

The all-important question flowed from the mouths of teachers, family members, and the occasional passersby on the small streets of my NY suburban town. It loomed heavily over me as I made my way through high school and imagined what it would be like to follow the perfectly laid out path that was unfolding in front of me. While college was on the minds of just about everyone around me, I couldn’t seem to get myself excited at the prospect of spending another four years behind a desk without first really experiencing the world. And so, I settled on a gap year.

Volunteering in the Jungle of Costa Rica

My adventure began in a camp tucked away in the jungle of a Costa Rican surf town. After Coronavirus had closed most of the world and tarnished many of my plans to travel, I was willing to go pretty much anywhere that would take me. The minute I read that Costa Rica had opened their borders (with many provisions), I got to work. I found a surf camp searching for volunteers on the website WorkAway and emailed them immediately. A few weeks later, I was on a flight headed to Central America. As my transport from the airport rolled down the dirt road that led to the camp and inched further and further away from civilization, I uneasily wondered what I had gotten myself into. But when I exited the car and was greeted warmly by an array of unfamiliar faces, I knew I had found something special. The next two months were filled with days of lounging by the beach, meeting the various characters that inhabited the nearby town, taking shots of chili guado, eating infinite amounts of rice and beans, learning how to cope with being permanently covered in mud, and getting to know people that I now consider family. While I was experiencing things that some people can only dream about, I never felt truly present. I’d often find myself staring at a beautiful beach and thinking, “how am I not happy right now?” For some reason, I was constantly looking for something more. This search brought me to my next Central American country…

Backpacking Around Mexico

After a six week hiatus in New York, I was ready to get back out there. A friend I had met in Costa Rica was in Mexico with her boyfriend and urged me to come join her. I figured, “why not?”, and spent a week travelling on the Pacific coast with her and some friends. We celebrated a lively New Years Eve together and then parted ways. I had a volunteer job at a hostel in the city of Puerto Vallarta lined up and plans to finally take some Spanish lessons during my time off. I was looking forward to having a routine and to settling down in a new city, but the first week that I spent in that hostel was probably the hardest of my life. It was the first time I had ever felt truly alone, and it took everything in me not to get on a flight back to New York. I stuck it out for two weeks before I ran away to a new town- a recurring theme of my time in Mexico. I spent four months running from place to place, from Jalisco, to Quintana Roo, to Chiapas, to Oaxaca… my ideas about settling down had completely faded away. I met people from every walk of life and every part of the world. I ate food that I still dream of. I fell in love with everything about Mexico and I learned more about life in those months than I had in my whole eighteen years of living. But still, it always felt like something was missing, and no matter where I went or how fast I ran I just couldn’t seem to find it. By the end of my trip I was burnt out and craving home more than ever. When I landed in New York I practically ran out of the plane. For once in my life, it was the only place I wanted to be. 

There’s No Place Like Home

I returned home with the knowledge that I had some major work to do on myself. The time I spent travelling made me realize that I could make my way around the entire world and never find what I was looking for; it was something that I was only going to find within myself. I began processing the events of the last year, spending time with my family, and finally learning that I could be happy regardless of my location. I found a genuine inner peace, something I don’t think I would have accomplished without nights of crying on the floor of my muddy tent, frantic phone calls home after losing my wallet on the streets of a foreign city, or bumpy bus rides that lasted 13 brutal hours. The world had turned into my classroom, and it had tested me in every possible way.

My San Carlos Adventure Begins

Before I knew it, my zest for travel had returned. If I’m being honest, my previous time in Latin America had been... less than authentic. I was staying in touristy areas, living with mostly Americans and Europeans, and spending the majority of my time in hostels. On top of that, I struggled to apply any of the Spanish that I was learning as I was constantly surrounded by English. This time around, I wanted to do things differently. I wanted to truly immerse myself in a new country and make a real effort at learning the language. This desire brought me to a finca near the small pueblo of San Carlos, where our story comes to an end. In searching for my next adventure, I found a Workaway for a Spanish school in Colombia, a place where I could take quality Spanish classes, go on adventures each day, live near a town with no tourists, and experience the true Colombian culture. I can easily say that the week I have spent here so far has been the most content I have felt in a long time. My Spanish has already improved astronomically, I have met a group of wonderful people, and I am learning more about this country every day. I am incredibly excited to see what these next few weeks have in store, and I am ready to be embraced in all that the world has left to teach me.