Where the Streets Have No Name

Bono wasn’t writing about Costa Rica in his popular song, but it’s entirely possible that he got the idea for it here! One of the craziest things about this country is that the residences and businesses do not have numeric addresses, and many of the streets do not even have names. I’m not talking about dirt roads, I mean major thoroughfares. ¡Sí, las principales calles! There are no street signs on the corners here, and all directions are given descriptively—a nightmare for anyone who doesn’t know the area well.

For example, when I asked for directions to a local bike shop today, here’s what I was told: Go past the fire station (la estación de bomberos) near the park (cerca del parque), continue one block north (una cuadra al norte), then turn right (a la derecha) and walk approximately 100 meters past the shoe store (la zapateria). As if it’s not enough work to translate all of this from Spanish into English in my head, I also have to remember the series of directions I was given. As you can imagine as I get closer to my destination I often have to stop and ask again.

I could go on an on about the impracticality of this, but I won’t. You might be amazed, however, to know that mail is also addressed in this same descriptive manner. Can you just picture the front of the envelope? And can you imagine the job of sorting mail here? Fortunately, most businesses use P.O. boxes.

I did, by the way, manage to find the bike shop. After switching out the pedals and pumping up the tires of Diego’s soft-tail mountain bike (the owner of the school loaned his bike to me for the week), I followed a long road out of the city to the nearby foothills where I rode for most of the afternoon. With the breeze tunneling through my helmet, the sun on my arms, and the music of my MP3 player in my ears, I felt the true freedom of vacation.

The freedom and contentment I feel when I´m biking alone on backroads is almost indescribable. Maybe you know it too. It´s in these moments that I feel God´s presence and hear His voice most clearly. It is where we best connect.

I rode along palm-lined streets, through lush tropical gardens, and in and out of sugar cane fields. The weather was perfect: 75, sunny and breezy. The hillside was colorful and varied. I rode past fields of strawberries, coffee plants, banana and citrus trees. As I stopped to take pictures (like this self portrait) I gave thanks to the One who designed it all. Costa Rica is a masterpiece- His masterpiece! After one final long ascent (think Bee Caves hill, squared!), I enjoyed the downhill trip home to Grecia, via The Street with No Name.