Flipping through a February issue of Sports Illustrated one recent afternoon, the headline “What Was He Thinking?” grabbed my attention. It was the story of why former Denver Bronco quarterback Jake Plummer retired early and walked away from $5 million in guaranteed money just to do something different with his life. The article got me thinking: 'Would we have done that?' Well, we kind of did.
Though we didn’t walked away from millions when we left for Costa Rica nearly 11 months ago, we did walk away from a helluva lot to join the Peace Corps. Let’s face it: right now we could easily be teachers in the Anchorage School District, making decent salaries and living comfortable, convenient lives. But years ago Megon and I both knew that that kind of life could be put on hold.
Our Peace Corps life is teaching us there’s more to life, more to money, than what we ever had in Alaska. Between the two of us we live on ¢424,000 colones a month, or about $850 (that was a month’s rent in our tiny old Anchorage cabin). But $850 goes a long way here, especially when rent is only $140 a month.
Welcome to the Jungle
When I first told my mom we were joining the Peace Corps, her response was kind of like that Sports Illustrated headline. She had no idea what we were thinking. This past week she got to spend eight days in Costa Rica and get a glimpse of the life we’ve created. We told her to pack light and she did it wonderfully, taking only what she needed so we could travel around efficiently by bus and by foot.
My mom got to experience a lot in very little time. She attended two of our community English classes (such a social butterfly she made friends immediately with all our students), survived a 3K walk in the hot morning sun, ate and drank weird and wonderful tasting fruits, walked though a jungle and thwarted off an attack of angry ankle-biting ants, learned how to boogie board in the warm Caribbean Sea and learned what Pura Vida means. She even learned a little more Spanish, like mucho gusto, muchas gracias, and tranquillo. We loved having her here and can’t wait to host her again!
Rings and Things
More than a month ago, my best buddy/marriage commissioner/college roommate Jacob Urban hosted us for a week at his home in New Haven, Connecticut, to help him celebrate his wedding. He and his lovely bride Ivory got married on a beautiful July afternoon at an amazing beachside venue. The ceremony took place on a sandy beach, which was a fitting way for those two to get married (they’re relationship started on a Lake Michigan beach), but it was also a bit nerve-racking.
Being the best man and all, I was in charge of the rings. There were three of them – two for Ivory and one for Jacob. The time came for the first ring. I stepped forward and pulled the satin bag from my pocket. Not knowing which ring went first, I thought I’d be wise to just dump all three into my hand. Then, to my horror, I saw one of Ivory’s rings – the one that went on first – whorl downward and disappear into the sand. What the hell was I thinking? The guests took one collective gasp as I took my hand and dug for a handful of sand. All sorts of thoughts ran rapidly through my head: What if I can’t find it? We’re gonna need a metal detector! Jacob’s going to kick my ass! But as I straightened up, I opened my hand and there it was, a wedding band glittering with diamonds – and sand.
“Who hired this guy?” Jacob joked to his marriage commissioner. But she didn’t find it all that funny. A very stern no-nonsense kind of lady, she proceeded to ask him, “Are you sure you trust this man with your other rings?” Jacob nodded and the ceremony continued without any more ring droppings. It did, however, end with the lady telling me “not to trip on my way out.” Though I felt like a complete jackass, retelling the story provided some excellent best-man speech fodder.
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