Costa Rica 4

Yesterday after my evening pilates class with Angie (my new goddess) I pulled a card from the pile at the Healing Center desk at Fiorella's invitation. You believe in miracles, it read. Yes I do! I told Fio. I shouldnt even be here, but here I am!
I told her my situation and she fist bumped me in sisterly solidarity, her nose ring flashing in starry admiration. It was meant to be, we agreed.
I've found a sisterhood that I am not yet part of, but I fit. We share olive skin (though mine is yet to take on the full caramel hue) muscly short legs, hair that is both dark and gold at the same time, and a predisposition to pura vida.

So, still accepting miracles, this morning I went off with a real estate agent, Bram, to see a few properties in Playa Pelada that are going for a steal. Yes, I want the first one we see. But that would mean selling up everything in Cambridge, and making a fulltime move here with no promise of any income.
Bram also took me to the school he and other expats started on the hills over the beach - Del Mar Academy. A Montessori program from toddler to 6th grade, growing a grade each year, planning to go through high school. There I met his wife and two groms, beach-blond and sassy. How happy my own chickens would be in this small school, with resident sheep and pigs for tending, long stretches of green play space, nestled in rainforest. I ached for them to be there with me.
Then Bram took me to the desirable double-E section further around the hill, catching exquisite beach views if you have the right property. We passed a large house built by the inventor of the Wonder Bra. Is this the double-D section then, I asked. As dessert we there stopped into a property available for rent, owned by a hard-working Atlanta couple, currently empty. I stood by their pool and drowned in the bougainvillea framed vista - green forested hill against the cerulean sky; Playa Guiones and the Pacific strung as a white and emerald lace ribbon between. Oh to hell with the little house for a steal, plant me in this spot, eyes glued to the heady view of paradise!

Thunder, lightening cancelled my surf lesson. Angie called to say safety first. Yet after the storm hour, the sea was perfect. It's meant to be, I say to myself, and accept this loss with grace. And yes, with the energy not spent in waves, I make it to Angie's fitness class. There I meet my sisterhood - caramel and laughing, accepting me without question; we run together, a group of 5 chicas showing up the 4 guys who cannot keep up. And as I follow the instructions in Spanish, I forget for an hour that I am a gringa - no, I'm just one of the chicas, and feel at home. This, the most wondrous miracle so far...