Traveling Alone

I haven't traveled by myself for several years, so I approached this adventure with trepidation. I flew American Airlines from Philly to Miami and onward to San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica. The flight went smoothly, but I was chagrined to learn American would charge $2 for water. A bargain, I suppose, to the $3 for an oatmeal raisin cookie or a granola bar. Soon we'll be charged to get our seats cleaned, or to remove a used barf bag.

I arrived in darkness. Costa Rica is close to the equator: the sun goes down at 5:30 p.m. and rises about 12 hours later. I nervously tried out my Spanish at the money exchange, where the young boys behind the counter appeared to be laughing at me. It's possible, but I'll never know since I couldn't understand a word they said.


I sat in the back of the cab on the way to the Hotel Aranjuez, palms sweating and wondering whether I'd made a mistake. We drove through some rough-looking neighborhoods, with young people dressed in tight, black clothes, and trash strewn along the streets. Dogs ran up to the cars and barked. Was I crazy traveling alone outside the United States? I decided to focus on the squat homes, painted in teal and pink and ochre. As we passed through the city center, I thought about the murder rate in Philadelphia. I'm probably safer here, I thought.

My room was simple but beautiful. Pine floors and furniture, with bed linens a burnt orange and walls adorned with paintings of Ticos, the word Costa Ricans use to describe themselves. Some believe this diminuative comes from a colonial expression, "We are all hermaniticos (little brothers." I ran the overhead fan to cool and calm myself. The focus and energy it took for me to reach the hotel had exhausted me. I looked forward to meeting my roommate, said to be from Belgium. Her plane had been unable to land, so she was spending the night in Panama.

I listened to the dogs bark outside my window and thought about the cat that had raced past me after I had checked in. I wondered whether my travel mates would like me and whether I could find some of the self I'd lost in the craziness of the past year.