RICO’s Q — This is a post from the Costa Rica Pura Vida Lifestyle Facebook page about Americans living in Costa Rica, titled “How to Spot an Expat Who’s Not Happy Being Here.”
“You can usually spot them. They’re the expat walking around Costa Rica looking like somebody stole their Wi-Fi, their air conditioning, and their last good pair of socks.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Costa Rica isn’t paradise every single day. There are traffic jams, bureaucracy, rainy afternoons, barking dogs, power outages, and the occasional encounter with a government office that makes you question every decision you’ve ever made.
But there’s a difference between adjusting to Costa Rica and being absolutely miserable about Costa Rica.
First, they complain about the weather. It’s too hot. It’s too rainy. It’s too humid. The sun is too bright. You’re standing in Costa Rica. What exactly were you expecting?
Second, they compare everything to “back home.” “Back home, they do it this way.” “Back home, the roads are better.” “Back home, the coffee is…” Stop right there. You moved. Costa Rica isn’t supposed to be back home. That was kind of the point.
Third, they have a serious relationship with their clock. Everything must happen at precisely 9:03. Costa Rica gently suggests, “Pura Vida.” They respond, “No. 9:03.” That relationship usually doesn’t end well.
Fourth, they get personally offended by bureaucracy. They walk into an office expecting logic, efficiency, and immediate results. Five hours later, they’re staring at a form they don’t understand, holding a number they don’t remember taking. Welcome to Costa Rica. Take a deep breath.
Fifth, they refuse to learn Spanish. They’ve been here six years. They know “hola,” “gracias,” and “cerveza.” Then they complain that nobody understands them. That’s not a Costa Rica problem. That’s a commitment problem.
Sixth, they only hang out with other unhappy expats. This one is dangerous. They sit around complaining about Costa Rica with other people who complain about Costa Rica. Soon they’re convinced the entire country is falling apart. Meanwhile, the Tico at the next table is laughing with his family over a plate of casado.
Seventh, they never slow down. They brought the American rat race with them. They work constantly. Rush constantly. Check their phones constantly. They moved thousands of miles to Costa Rica…and somehow brought their hamster wheel in their suitcase.
Eighth, they don’t make friends with Ticos. They know every American at the local sports bar but couldn’t tell you their neighbor’s name. One of the greatest gifts Costa Rica offers is its people. Miss that, and you’re missing a gigantic part of the experience.
Ninth, they are always waiting for Costa Rica to become something else. Better roads. Faster service. More American restaurants. More familiar systems. More of everything they left behind. At some point you have to ask yourself: If you wanted everything to be exactly like home…why did you leave home?
And tenth, they forgot why they came. This may be the biggest one. They came for the mountains. The ocean. The coffee. The monkeys screaming from the trees. The warm smiles. The afternoon rain. The little soda around the corner. The freedom to sit outside and watch the world go by. They came looking for a different way to live. And somewhere along the way, they started measuring Costa Rica against the life they were trying to escape.
Maybe that’s the real secret to being happy here. You don’t come to Costa Rica and demand that Costa Rica change for you. You change a little bit for Costa Rica. You learn to slow down. You learn to laugh at the things you can’t control. You learn that not everything needs to happen today. You learn that sometimes the best part of the day is sitting with a cup of coffee and having absolutely nowhere you need to be.
And eventually, something strange happens. You stop saying, “This isn’t how we did it back home.” And you start saying, “You know what? This is pretty damn good.” That’s when Costa Rica starts getting inside you. That’s when Pura Vida stops being something you say…and starts becoming something you feel.
Iris, who just celebrated her 74th birthday, sent this in to the Americans in Costa Rica Facebook page. She lives in La Fortuna de Carlos area and always has a smile on her face!
My story in brief
Next year marks three decades since I made Costa Rica my home. In just a few days, I’ll hit 70 and still feel strong. Judging by what I hear from friends still in Toronto—where I spent 33 years after my family moved there from Italy—I probably wouldn’t be in this good shape (healthwise) if I’d stayed there.
At first, it wasn’t easy. But I never regretted it for a second. Along the way, I was lucky to cross paths with some amazing people—even Americans—and I’m still close with some of those who are still standing.
Costa Rica is not for everyone
Living here can come with challenges that catch many off guard. The pace of life moves slower, which some find refreshing but others frustrating. Infrastructure can be hit or miss—though the old days of common power outages and patchy internet, especially outside the main cities, are gone, the traffic nightmare continues. Healthcare, while decent, varies in quality and often requires travel to larger towns for specialized treatment.
The cost of living has also crept up, driven by demand from foreigners, which we like to blame, making it less affordable than many expect. Add to that the bureaucratic hurdles for legal residency or business permits, and the dream can quickly turn complicated.
For those who can make it, Costa Rica offers incredible beauty and a unique lifestyle, but it demands patience, flexibility, and a readiness to embrace imperfection. It’s a place to love for some, and a place to move on from for others.
Pura Vida, Mae!