**San Diego to Costa Rica to Brazil***

Lovelies! Let me catch you up on what tha dilly.

After some existential crisis, I decided to do some travelling. Nothing like a good ole fashioned existential crisis to shake things up. I sold my car, gave up my housing, put my clients under the care of other trainers, put my stuff in storage, and disconnected my phone to save money while abroad. I drove down to San Diego to be with my family for the holidays and get things in order. I had a delightful time, hanging with the fam, training at Victory MMA, and eating cookies.

On January 7th, 2016, I got on the plane and landed in Costa Rica to work on a small farm in the southwest town of Uvita, through a work-exchange program called Workaway. I took a bus, a taxi, another bus, and another taxi, and miraculously ended up at the farm.

Uvita hammock

one of the options where to sleep. thin mattress on the ground, or hammock.

I planned to stay there for two months. However, it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. The owner, Patrick, was a raw vegan German nudist. I have no huge problem with any of these adjectives (well, raw vegan really challenges my carnivorism, but I could temporarily suspend my scathe); it really was his contradictory personality that drove me away.

It was two main things. One, it was his personality. One moment he is preaching about being emotionally conscious and loving; the next moment, he is going off on people and acting like a complete dick. That shit is just not cool. He tells me to make myself feel at home. Yet a moment later he will make sure items in the house are exactly the way he specifies. The first day I got there I was eating a papaya in the morning and offered him some. He says no, and then asks me how could I possibly be hungry? He continues that no one needs to eat before noon, because we still have food in our stomach from the night before. Then the next moment he says if I need to eat, I can eat. Not judge-y at all. Right. Countless instances of this, and other more harsh diatribes. The second reason why I wasn’t so happy at the farm was because I really missed jiu jitsu. My plan was to stay at the farm for like a month or two. And although from the outside it looks like I am living in paradise, not too far from an incredibly warm ocean surrounded by lush greenery, where the motto in life is “Pura Vida” and I can surf, or hike to my soul’s content….

Playa Uvita

The beach at Uvita. Warmest waters!!!

What if I feel like something is missing? What if I am discovering how much I have a passion for jiu jitsu and there is not a single opportunity I could find to learn here? Is this really a paradise then? It’s interesting what travel illuminates…It illuminates aspects of ourselves, and illuminates where are the boundaries of our comfort zones…and it also illuminates what we feel our priorities are in life at the moment…

So…the first step was the get the hell off Patrick’s farm! I was freaking out because I had no Plan B. I usually only have a Plan A. And this was my plan. But…this wasn’t working out. But I guess travelling is also about rolling with the punches, and making new plans on the fly. So I hit up my girlfriend Pernilla, who I was besties and roomies with, back in my dancing/b-girl days. She was living in Alajuela, which is north of the capital, San Jose. I took a 4 hour bus ride up there, and BAM, reunion time. She was living in an apartment with her boo Jorge, and they are the kindest, coolest couple. They are obsessed with rock climbing, so I accompanied them rock climbing on Sunday, the day I arrived.

Pernilla and me

Pernilla and me <3

 

Rock climbing at Atenas Turrubares, Costa Rica!

Rock climbing at Atenas Turrubares, Costa Rica!

Monday we went to the beach, and they dropped me off at Athletic Advance, where I had a fabulous time taking a jiu jitsu class, followed by the MMA class. I didn’t understand everything but I just watched the movements.. We got ready to go at night, and in the early morning, we drove a few hours to La Escalada Cachi, for Pernilla to teach a 3 day rock climbing camp for youth.

escalada cachi

Cachi! Gorgeous, right?

I stayed in a tent and tried to help out as much as possible. On Thursday, Jorge dropped me back off at the airport, and off I went to Brazil, the birthplace of luta livre, to train….LUTA LIVRE! Although I am sad to have left Pernilla and Jorge, I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, and although there are jiu jitsu classes in San Jose area, Brazil is truly the mecca for jiu jitsu/luta livre. Since I was planning on being in Brazil Feb 15-29 anyway to do work-exchange, I figured I would arrive early and train some jiu jitsu 😉

I am staying in a dorm room at Jabanga hostel, which is the closest and cheapest hostel I could find, next to where I decided I would train, at Renovação Fight Team (RFT). It’s a decent hostel in that it’s cheap and they have wifi and provide this addict coffee in the morning, and have pretty good security, and have a fridge and kitchen we can use. It’s a shitty hostel, though, in that the rooms are fucking crowded as shit, dirty, poorly lit, there is no space, and the shower/bathrooms are tiny and gross.

RFT is pretty cool, it’s only about a 9 minute walk away, through a neighborhood that feels pretty safe. I chose RFT because the website was clear, so I could see the classes that were offered. I saw they offered classes I’m interested in: luta livre, wrestling, boxing, muay thai, MMA, more luta livre, etc. When I checked it out, they also have an on site gym, and a locker room where you can shower. Plus the price was good, about $50 for unlimited classes for 2 weeks. Yeah buddy! So far I have taken MMA starter, Luta Livre, Boxing, and Pro Luta Livre.

Luta Livre class at RFT

Luta Livre class at RFT

 

Pro Luta Livre class at RFT

Pro Luta Livre class at RFT

I don’t understand a word, but I just watch the movements and try to follow.

Although training is my priority, I have also walked around Copacabana, tanned on the beach of Ipanema,

Ipanema!

Ipanema!

danced with the crowd at a Carnival practice, stuffed myself silly at a Churrascaria, witnessed many a bootie in a thong, cooed over cute baby monkeys (called micos) on electrical wires above the streets, and otherwise tried to stay open to adventure, when I am not doing my laundry or washing dishes.

Lots of love,

Kristina

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