The excitement over being back in Costa Rica after twenty years did not hit me until I was outside the airport and met Jorge’s dad, Marco, and Hugo.  I didn’t know that Marco would be there to meet me, but I recognized him right away.  Hugo surprised me a bit, probably because he was bigger and taller.  But what else was I expecting?  This first day was a whirlwind of reuniting with many old friends.  Of all the great trips and experiences that I’ve had, that first month-long trip to Costa Rica still brings back some of the best memories.  That must have been because of the people, who make you feel so welcome.  I’d also forgotten how open, friendly, and giving that everyone was.  Not everything was joyous though as one of the dad’s that I was fond of had passed away the year before.

When I was in Costa Rica the first time, I stayed with Jorge and his family.  He has two siblings, one of which was Marco, who met me in the airport, and a sister named Maria Lydia.  To my delight, Jorge’s dad told me that they lived in the same house and after a nice lunch, we went to visit.  I met Jorge’s mom there, who still had quite a young face.  It seemed that many of the women fared this way, and the men seemed to age more rapidly.  Of course, I remembered the little room I stayed in, the small school across the street where the youngsters were still wearing the blue uniforms, but the coffee tree field directly across the street was replaced by some new houses.

Jorge’s dad took me for a ride around town.  There aren’t many memorable buildings there other than the church on the mail square which I didn’t remember all that clearly.  We also went to meet the Costa Rican teacher who had hosted us when we came to Costa Rica.  I recognized her immediately and she too had aged nicely.  I enjoyed staying in her house chatting with the two of them in the large room full of tables and chairs and Costa Rican decorations.

Later in the evening, Jorge showed up at his parents’ house to take me to his house in San Jose.  Aserri, to be precise, is the name of the small town on the hillside, just outside of San Jose.  There, I met his wife of four years and his nearly three year-old son.  We watched most of the Costa Rica vs. USA World Cup qualification match.  When the score was at 3-0 in favor of Costa Rica, and I could barely keep my eyes open, I bade everyone a cheerful good night and went to bed.

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