Expats aren’t flocking to Costa Rica just for more of the same. Obviously, it’s the lure of something different and more exciting that attracts them…
And I’m not talking about the typical differences that come to mind, like weather, cost of living, food, language and general pace of life. All those differences, while appealing, are a bit routine and sort of, well, meh…
So, what is at the heart of this quest for the quixotic?
What really makes Costa Rica different?
I’ll kick off the search for an answer with a personal anecdote…
You know, in my 22 years of living in Costa Rica, I’ve never looked up into my rearview mirror only to be surprised by the site of flashing blue lights…
Well, one time my son and I were driving down some lonesome Costa Rica highway when Zack noticed a police car approaching from the rear with lights flashing. He looked at me and said, “dad, you better pull over!” I just ignored him. As the police car drew closer he became more adamant and I continued to ignore him until the police car went around us and on his merry way…
You see Costa Rica doesn’t have highway patrol cars that will dart out from behind some hiding place and chase down an unsuspecting driver, sometimes out of the mere suspicion that they “might be” doing something illegal…
That just doesn’t happen here.
So, what does all that have to do with the answer to the question posed?
In my opinion, there are two aspects of life in Cost Rica that really stand out to me as different:
First, there is a refreshing lack of what I would call “big brotherism.”
Second, there is a sometimes startling difference in the way “risk” is perceived and handled, which sort of dovetails with the first point.
In the U.S.A., where I came from, there is this oppressive cloud that hangs over your daily life that I would ascribe to the watchful eye of big brother, or as we say down in South Carolina, the gubment.
Now, make no bones about it, Costa Rica has its own problems with the gubment. But those problems are different. One can to a large extent avoid interaction with the government down here. When those interactions do take place, they admittedly can be painful, as anything to do with government in Costa Rica will end in frustration from the mind-boggling degree of bureaucratic ineptitude.
But you don’t feel like your every move is under its watchful eye. In the U.S. you generally do, mostly because you generally are.
And why is that, or why does that have to be the case?
Well, that brings me to the second related point…
In the U.S., we try our best to eliminate all forms of risk in everyday life. And as soon as something bad happens that we weren’t expecting, well the good old government rushes in with new laws and regulations to eliminate the risk of that too ever happening again.
After all, once a risk is known to exist, there are multitudes of lawyers salivating at the chance of being able to sue if anyone disregards the risk to the detriment of any potential plaintiff.
Things just don’t operate like that down here in Costa Rica.
It is sometimes amazing to see the level of lack of risk aversion that the ticos exhibit in their daily lives. Do bad things happen to them as a result? Oh, for sure they do.
And what is the government’s response? Well, mainly just clean up the mess and move on. Tico culture is not one that generally rushes to group activism in order to stimulate new laws that eliminate the possibility of similar accidents ever recurring.
And there is no personal injury bar in Costa Rica, whatsoever.
People take risks and sometimes get hurt. They mend up and go on, often doing the same things that got them hurt to begin with.
I guess the bottom line is that this attitude towards risk aversion leads to less government oversight of our daily lives down here – less big brotherism.
And, at least for me, I really sort of like that. And I would venture a guess that most expats who’ve been here for a while do as well.
Now, granted, these days we’re undergoing a migratory invasion of newly minted expats who probably haven’t caught on to these more subtle differences yet and certainly haven’t learned to appreciate them. They’re still stuck trying to get used to the more in your face food, language and pace of life variety of obvious differences.
And many of the new ones are bringing American style risk aversion with them as they gather in gringo enclaves that try to replicate a more American style of life.
I really like being able to have a couple beers in a bar, get behind the wheel of my car (with my senses completely intact) and drive my own ass home without worrying about my life being completely upended by some cop trying to meet his monthly DUI quota.
I’m sure there are some who might read that and be aghast at my irresponsibility! Hopefully, those readers end up deciding against the move to Costa Rica.
We old timer expats relish in our ability to stay off the radar screen of big brother and just live our lives in quiet passionate obscurity.
Not that I want this post to be painted political, but there is one area that flies in the face of what I’m stating in terms of risk aversion and big brotherism. And that is the attitude towards gun ownership. That is one case where things are a bit bassackwards, with the U.S. exhibiting more of stunning lack of risk aversion.
Costa Rica is not a gun culture and I thank the lord for that difference as well. That’s one risk we don’t generally run down here, i.e., the risk of getting shot up at a shopping mall.
You’re more likely to meet your end from the the sharp point of a terciopelo fang that the long end of an assault rifle.
