Coming back home has been a strange feeling. These past three weeks went by so quickly that it hardly feels like the trip is truly over. One thing I will always carry with me from Costa Rica is the importance of being present in the moment. That lesson found its way to me again and again during the trip, even on our way home when our flight was delayed because of a storm. As everyone rushed through the airport trying to make up for lost time, I was stopped at security for a pat-down. In the middle of all that urgency, I had no choice but to slow down. It turned out my La Selva Biological Station shirt was just tucked weirdly in my pants. It felt like one final reminder from Costa Rica just as I was leaving. Even in moments of rush and disorder, there is something powerful about pausing. And it feels meaningful that a country built around the values of pura vida and slow, intentional living might hold answers in a world where climate change continues to speed up.

In class, we discussed Six Degrees by Mark Lynas. It is unsettling to realize that a two-degree Celsius rise could flood entire countries like Vanuatu and displace millions. Climate change is often described as too big to tackle, and it can feel like individual action is meaningless. But Costa Rica reminded me that meaningful change does not have to begin at the global level. It can be seen in everyday life. Our homestay was one of the best examples of this.
Homestay was one of the things I was most nervous about, but I quickly grew to appreciate it. Our host-mom, Ofelia, was kind, intentional, and deeply connected to both nature and her community. It was easy to see how hardworking and caring she was. One day, she casually mentioned how she was planting trees on her family’s land, and it was amazing to witness the passion she had when talking about it. During my time there, I also noticed how thoughtful her lifestyle was. She composts food scraps, washes clothes at night when electricity is cheaper, and uses natural daylight from ceiling openings instead of electric lights whenever possible. None of it felt forced or inconvenient. It reflected a natural way of living with awareness. On our last night, she took us to visit her family’s land, and it was beautiful to realize that most of the houses on the block belonged to her relatives. She told me that once a week, her extended family gathers for a shared meal. It was moving to see how deeply community is rooted in her life.

On another night, my homestay group walked into town just to explore. We stopped by a small market, bought some snacks, and wandered into a local bakery. There was something special about walking slowly through the streets, watching how people gathered outside their homes and moved through the town. The next evening, we went a little farther into the town center with the rest of our class. It was more touristy, but still fun to walk around and browse a local shop. These informal outings gave me a different view of Costa Rican life. They also made me think about something Diana from Café Monteverde said about gentrification. She explained that while tourism brings money and attention to communities, it can also raise prices to the point where locals can no longer afford to live in their own neighborhoods. Tourists who do not engage meaningfully with local culture often unknowingly contribute to this process. Diana offered a powerful perspective. She emphasized that the answer is not to stop visiting new places, but to be more aware of how we engage with them. As tourists, we can start by talking to locals, asking what prices they pay, and being more intentional with our spending. When visitors come in with large amounts of money and little awareness, it can change the mentality of business owners and service workers, who begin overcharging tourists. This in turn raises the overall cost of living and slowly pushes local families out. Learning this made me realize that responsible travel is about more than sustainability. It is also about humility and respect for the people who live in the places we are privileged to visit.


At Café Monteverde, these values came together in a way that really stayed with me. One of my favorite moments was painting benches with our class. Seeing all of our ideas mix into singular art pieces was something really special. It was also surprisingly really fun to fill bags with compost. There was something really meaningful about working alongside people I’ve come to care about. Another one of my favorite moments was climbing the Tree of Life, a large and old guava tree with long, intricate branches. Diana mentioned that despite taking up space, the tree hadn’t been removed as it had earned its spot by attracting tourism. One could consider the tree lucky, but at that moment it felt like we were the lucky ones, laughing and climbing together among its branches.

Food also took on new meaning during this trip. Every meal felt like a reward, not just a necessity. We often found ourselves guessing the ingredients and trying to identify the fruits used in the daily juices. There was a shared appreciation for the care behind each dish. Eating became something to savor and reflect on, not something to rush through. It made me realize how much joy and meaning can come from slowing down and being fully present.
The trip to Costa Rica has become one of my most valued experiences. I feel grateful to have engaged with a land filled with so much biodiversity, life, happiness, and thoughtfulness in everyday actions. I feel even more honored to have met everyone who came alongside this trip, including the professors and the new friendships created. I came in not knowing much about planetary health or climate change, but I have left with valuable knowledge and a desire to keep learning about the ways I can live sustainably and help protect the life around us.

-Maria
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