Issue #39: Finding Balance: How We Built a Life Between Canada and Costa Rica by Jamie Alexander
It was 3 a.m. a few days before Christmas 2020, and I was tapping my wife on the shoulder while she slept. “Ange, Ange, wake up! I just got us tickets for Costa Rica. We’re leaving in two weeks,” I said.
“Get the hell out of here. What are you talking about?” Ange replied, a mix of sleepiness and confusion in her voice. Under normal circumstances, we’d have discussed a decision like this as a family long before buying tickets. But these weren’t normal circumstances.
We’d already survived a lockdown that stretched through spring and half of summer 2020. We’d endured being cooped up in our house for over four months, pretending to be tutors for our 12-year-old daughter, Ruby. Props to all you homeschooling parents out there! When our city announced yet another lockdown, I thought, We need to get the f*** out of here. At the time, anyone taking a flight out of the country was branded a pariah, so Ange’s reaction was no surprise.
I canceled those tickets within the 24-hour grace period, knowing the decision was a bit impulsive. But my little stunt worked—it got our gears turning. We started hatching an escape plan. To be clear, this wasn’t about fleeing Canada to escape an authoritarian regime. Ange and I are firmly in the rule-following “normie” camp—you know, the kind of people who take Advil for a headache. We love Toronto, with its four seasons and vibrant diversity. It’s a city where immigrants like us are the majority, and we’re proud to call it home.
Still, we needed a break. I reached out to Juan, a friend we’d met in Playa Samara over 20 years ago during an 18-month luna de miel backpacking trip across Latin America. Though we’d stayed connected on Facebook, we hadn’t spoken since that first meeting. Juan replied within hours. When I sent him a photo of himself playing guitar on the beach, he remembered me instantly. He told me about Ecovilla, an eco community in Costa Rica. I’d seen the Netflix documentary about it a few months earlier. There were no houses for rent but plenty of properties for sale. Things moved fast from there. Within days, we arranged a Zoom tour of Casa La Paz, the house we now own. One month later, we were on a plane with no long-term plan—just ready to go.
This holiday season marks four years since that move. Unlike many who’ve relocated to the tropics permanently, we now live with a foot in both worlds. Each year, we align our schedules with the school calendar, spending a month in July and a few weeks over the winter holidays in Costa Rica. This hybrid lifestyle gives us the best of both worlds—our cake, and the chance to eat it too.
Over the years, we’ve built a new circle of friends in Costa Rica. I’m the guy who reaches out three weeks before arriving, reconnecting with people who probably haven't thought about me since I last left. We try to organize a potluck soon after we return. It is our way of reconnecting with old friends and meeting the ever-changing community of vibrant personalities. Where else can you talk to someone channeling their deceased spouse, a flat-earther, and a world-renowned astrologer all in one evening? Though I’m still a “normie,” I love the exposure to such diverse perspectives.
Watching the evolution of Alegria and the seeds of Ecovilla San Mateo has been breathtaking. The changes are stark when viewed after months away—like noticing how much a friend’s kids have grown. We’ve hiked up Copali Road from Ecovilla countless times, marveling at the stunning views from the yoga shala and seeing houses pop up one by one. From the beginning, I’d envisioned inviting artists to our home for jam sessions. Over the years, we’ve hosted many, building connections with a vibrant community of musicians and creatives in the Machuca Valley.
Despite now being among the longest-standing residents of Ecovilla, we sometimes feel like we're on the margins of the community. We tend to keep a low profile and steer clear of controversial discussions that arise from time to time. We’re aware that this means missing out on the full experience of communal living, so we make an extra effort to savor every moment when we’re here.
I try to strengthen our bond with others by bringing people together. Many in the area enjoy organizing around a specific intention, but for me, the only intention is to share laughter and good conversation. Hosting gatherings and watching friendships spark and grow between those I’ve introduced brings me immense joy. Even while I am away, knowing that these connections continue feels like a meaningful contribution to the community. Nothing pleases me more than seeing friends come together and enjoy each other's company.
If you’re considering splitting time between two worlds, here are some strategies we’ve found useful. First, understand that owning property abroad won’t make you rich. High rents in places like Ecovilla won't cover the combination of maintenance, property taxes, your mortgage, and travel expenses. Treat it as an investment in lifestyle, not finances.
Spend significant time connecting with the community when you first arrive. Find a trustworthy housekeeper to look after your home while you’re away, and assemble a reliable roster of “fix-it” people for inevitable maintenance issues. Learn some Spanish to navigate Costa Rica’s bureaucracy and work with locals. A great mentor, preferably a Tico, can be invaluable—shoutout to Christina Rodriguez for being ours!
Long-term tenants are crucial. We’ve been lucky to have wonderful tenants, first Anton and Elvi, and later Eros, Trisha, and Jeff, who’ve all embraced arrangements allowing us to reclaim our home twice a year. Including housekeeping in the rent ensures consistency and peace of mind.
As Anton noted in his post The Impermanence of Community, nothing in these communities is permanent. Friends move on, relationships implode, and the energy ebbs and flows. Florian’s Welcome to Paradise post echoes this sentiment—life in paradise isn’t always easy. Yet, some things remain constant. Human still organizes musical events and Chef Fernando is always cooking delicious food. People still spar over pets, and my roof springs a leak every rainy season. Permits for new builds in ESM always seem to be six months away!
If you’re looking to live a hybrid lifestyle, you can find your balance. Foster relationships that can endure breaks. Accept that you’ll sometimes be forgotten while away but can reignite connections when you return. Stay involved in a meaningful way and cherish the moments in both worlds. They’ll enrich your life in ways you never imagined.
P.S. We are coming back in a couple of weeks and having a Hanukkah potluck party. You are all invited!
