How Costa Rica Has Changed Skip's Point of View, and How Tere has Enjoyed it from the Start! Lessons from Living the Pura Vida Life.

When Skip arrived in Costa Rica, he was full of enthusiasm, checklists, and enough bug spray to protect an entire village. He’d read about the Pura Vida lifestyle but didn’t quite understand it yet.

To him, it sounded like a catchy slogan printed on a coffee mug. Then came Tere — a born-and-raised tica with a quick smile, a sharp sense of humor, and a deep understanding of what Pura Vida really meant. From the very beginning, their friendship became a cultural exchange — part comedy show, part life lesson, and entirely Costa Rican.

Skip’s first big surprise came at the bank. He was in line for nearly an hour, growing restless, when he noticed everyone chatting and laughing as if they were at a family reunion. Tere leaned over and said, “Skip, here we wait — but we wait happily.” He wasn’t convinced at first, but slowly learned that patience isn’t a weakness in Costa Rica; it’s a form of grace.

By week three, Skip was the one starting conversations in line and proudly announcing that he could now wait an hour for anything — except maybe coffee. For Tere, seeing her country through Skip’s eyes was equally enlightening. She had grown up surrounded by mountains, rainbows, and wildlife, but never realized how extraordinary it all was until Skip reacted to every toucan sighting like he’d just discovered a new species. “Tere! Look!

Another one!” he’d shout, pointing to a bird she’d seen a thousand times. She’d laugh, roll her eyes, and admit, “Okay, that one is pretty amazing.” His enthusiasm reminded her that Costa Rica’s everyday magic is something locals often forget to notice. Skip, in turn, learned from Tere that being “on time” in Costa Rica means something entirely different. He once showed up at a gathering exactly at 2 p.m., only to find the hosts still in the shower.

Tere just grinned and said, “Now you’ve learned about tico time.” He also learned to appreciate a good casado lunch, how to navigate roads that sometimes disappear into rivers, and how to shrug off life’s little surprises — like a sudden downpour in the middle of a sunny day.

Over time, both of them grew in ways they hadn’t expected. Skip learned that true success isn’t about speed or productivity, but about joy and connection. He learned that life can flow beautifully when you stop trying to control every detail. Tere rediscovered her own roots, her culture, and the richness of simplicidad — simple living, deep laughter, and gratitude for what you have.

Today, Skip and Tere often enjoy a few cups of coffee, laughing about their adventures — from mispronounced Spanish words to runaway iguanas. They’re proof that Pura Vida isn’t just for those born into it or those who move there seeking it. It’s for anyone willing to listen, learn, and laugh their way through life’s imperfections.

Costa Rica didn’t just change Skip and Tere point of view — it opened them. It reminded them both that joy hides in the small stuff, that slowing down doesn’t mean falling behind, and that sometimes the best plan is to have none at all.

Because in the land of Pura Vida, the lesson is simple: live lightly, laugh often, and never forget to enjoy the view. 

Tere's Take: Costa Rica has Changed a Gringo's Point of View (and Remembering Why It Matters)

When I first met Skip, I knew exactly what I was getting into: another expat with big dreams, tight schedules, and absolutely no idea how to just... be. You know the type. They arrive with spreadsheets for everything, including fun. But Skip? He was different. He actually wanted to learn. Or maybe he just really loved coffee and I had good connections. Either way, I became his unofficial guide to surviving Costa Rica without losing his mind.

The bank incident still makes me laugh. There he was, checking his watch every thirty seconds like it would make the line move faster. I could practically see his North American efficiency dying a slow, tropical death. "Skip," I told him, "here we wait — but we wait happily." He looked at me like I'd just suggested he eat with his feet. But you know what?

Three weeks later, that man was chatting with strangers in line like he'd known them his whole life. I created a monster.

What surprised me most wasn't teaching Skip about Costa Rica — it was rediscovering my own country through his eyes. This man lost his mind over everything. A toucan? Amazed. A rainbow? Took seventeen photos. A sloth crossing the road? I thought he might cry. And I'll admit, after years of just seeing these things as... normal... Skip reminded me that normal here is extraordinary anywhere else. When he shouted "TERE! ANOTHER TOUCAN!" for the hundredth time, I'd laugh, but inside? I was grateful. He gave me back my sense of wonder.

Teaching him about "tico time" was pure entertainment. The look on his face when he showed up on time to a party and the hosts were still getting dressed? Priceless. "Tere, you said 2 o'clock," he protested. "Yes," I said, "2 o'clock tico time. That means 3:30." He's still not entirely comfortable with it, but at least he stopped panicking.

What I didn't expect was how much I'd learn from him too. Watching Skip transform from a stressed, schedule-obsessed gringo into someone who could shrug off a sudden rainstorm with a smile — that taught me something. It reminded me that Pura Vida isn't just something you're born with. It's something you choose, every day, even when life gets complicated.

These days, Skip and I meet for coffee and laugh about his early days here — the mispronounced words, the cultural mishaps, the time he tried to argue with tico time and lost spectacularly. But mostly, we laugh because we're both different now. He's slower, happier, more present. And me? I see my home through fresh eyes again.

Costa Rica didn't just change Skip. It reminded me why I never wanted to live anywhere else. And having a slightly less stressed gringo friend who now makes decent coffee? That's just a bonus.

Pura Vida isn't a tourist slogan — it's permission to live better. And sometimes, you need a friend from another country to help you remember that.