Dover Sherborn Students at the EF Global Student Leaders Summit in Costa Rica

April 15

Today, we woke up bright and early in the Gran Hotel at San Jose to travel to Tortugero. We took a 2 and a half hour bus ride (or, like the natives here say, 2 hours and a half) to a canal, but it seemed much faster considering the majority of us slept most of the time. When I heard that we were to take a boat ride the rest of the way to the hotel, I assumed we would be crossing some kind of big body of water in a big motor boat. But when we arrived, to my surprise our bags were being loaded into two long boats wading in a small canal. Even though it wasn’t what I expected, the 2 hour canal ride was beautiful. We stopped every now and then to look at the wildlife and beautiful trees. While we were all hot, sweaty, and anxious to get to our hotel, the ride was extremely peaceful.

After we arrived and got settled, we took another boat to a village in Tortuguero. Two statues of a toucan and a parrot towered over the small stores and houses that first came into view. Little children ran around screaming and laughing as the calmer adults sat on the sidelines. Two little boys let me play soccer with them for awhile, then their minds wandered to something else and they quickly ran away. A few of us wandered over to an outdoor class going on with 7-10 year old children. They were raising awareness about earthquakes (which I had to tell the teacher how to say in english) and collecting money from people passing by. I thought at first that they wouldn’t be interested in another group of tourists, but they immediately initiated conversation (I tried to keep up with their Spanish as much as possible) and were willing to take pictures. One little girl presented me with stickers that she stuck on my head, laughing. We said our goodbyes, and continued through the village.

The farther we went, the more obvious the natives poverty was. Stray dogs ran around the streets, and many people were simply lying outside to get some rest. The unstable shacks crowded each other, and fences were topped with barbed wire. But with as little as these people had, it struck me how happy they were despite of it. It was rare that I passed by someone who didn’t smile or say “hola!”. Mother’s held their children tight, the children played nicely, and the elders sat around having pleasant conversation. One image in particular stuck with me. A man with barely enough teeth to chew his food sat alone on a stoop playing guitar. He gave me the biggest smile as I walked by, and I have never seen more joy in a single full smile then I did in his toothless grin.