Download & Share PDF Version

Not long ago, my friend Nancy and I took a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Costa Rica. I was excited for our adventure and bought a string bikini for the occasion. After all, if no one back home could see those extra 20 pounds on me, did they really exist? Nancy seemed absolutely giddy about our trip—until we landed.

Standing in the jet's open doorway, gazing out on the tarmac, the heat and humidity of our destination country swooped up to greet us.

Nancy gasped. "Oh my gawd! Why did we choose Costa Rica again?"

"Because it's tropical," I said, "we can afford it, and they have the cutest jungle guides."

After going through customs and checking into our hotel in Jaco, we immediately took to the beach. Native kids wasted no time in approaching us to sell their homemade wares. I bought a necklace made of seashells from a sweet boy missing his two front teeth, while Nancy turned a withering gaze on me.

"Such a waste. I work too hard for my money to throw it away like that."

I wrapped my new purchase around my neck. "They're seashells, and the kid is just trying to earn a few bucks."

"You're encouraging them to pester tourists."

I smiled at her. "It's all part of the experience, my friend. We're not in Kansas anymore."

Later, with our base tans established, I enjoyed a scrumptious lobster dinner while Nancy fretted about how her fresh shrimp might impart a nasty case of gastroenteritis and whether her bottled water's seal was intact before she got it. I tried to assuage her fears, but after a few bites, she quit eating and ordered a bottle of cerveza to take to her room.

Oh well, I thought, putting a positive spin on it. Early to bed, early to rise.

The next morning, with a tico breakfast in our bellies, we headed inland to meet Ranger Randy, our guide for the next 36 hours. Ranger Randy was to lead us on a perfectly tame jungle expedition—which I was certain Nancy was dreading, if her plaintive begging to head back to the beach was any indication. But she couldn't dispute what a waste of money it would be if the non-refundable deposit we'd paid was forfeited by our not showing up.

"I guess I'll suffer through it," she muttered with a sigh.

So to the jungle we went.

Ranger Randy was adorable, as expected. The first afternoon, we traveled by Jeep through mountains where the wildlife was incredible. Nancy took a bazillion photos, which distracted her from whining. The next part of our journey was the zip line, high in the jungle canopy. I couldn't wait to hook up and zip down the cable, over waterfalls and spectacular terrain, with the wind in my face. However, I could have done without the soundtrack of Nancy's incessant screams during our ride, and the subsequent complaints of how many bugs she swallowed. The part where she shrieked at me because I had not dissuaded her from Costa Rica was especially memorable.

That night, Randy gave us a lesson in setting up camp, while Nancy moped about doing "man's work." We cooked fish over the fire, which Nancy only picked at grudgingly. While Randy and I shared stories and a few good laughs, Nancy sulked and nibbled on a power bar. Afterward, we pitched a tent alongside a river that trickled over boulders and made for subtle romantic ambiance and a great night's sleep. For me, at least. Nancy didn't sleep a wink, worrying about chirps, caws, and rustling noises. When the tent collapsed during a torrential downpour around 5 AM, Nancy lost it.

"I want to go home, NOW!" she cried. "I don't care how much money I lose, I'm done!"

Remember that Nancy and I planned this trip together. She wanted to go to Costa Rica and the jungle tour. She made our reservations. So while I empathized with Nancy's fears of the unknown and the inconvenience of being outside her comfort zone, her negativity spoiled the trip for both of us.

I learned some valuable lessons on my trip.

1. Your level of positivity or negativity in any activity is directly proportional to how much enjoyment you experience as a result.
   
   
2. If you live in fear and dread, that's what comes back to you; the inherent surprises from any new activity will become nightmares and regrets instead of the gifts of joy and unforgettable life experience that they are.
   
   

I also learned that networking is important, even in the jungle. I get to play G.I. Jane again this summer when I return by request from Ranger Randy.

Sigh.

I guess I'll suffer through it.