Drivers here have a habit of flashing you to warn you to be cautious for something. At first, it was very disorienting. Like are we doing something wrong, is this the wrong road, is there a checkpoint, a fight, what is happening?! Half of the time it’s been that there’s traffic or people walking on the road. The other half is because it’s night and we are driving with our lights on and we’ve pissed them off. Why? Because the previous owners put in the brightest headlights they possibly could, so there’s no difference in brightness if we use our brights or if we have our headlights on. There’s also no medium ground between lights on and lights off.
For the first time since we started a trip, I wish I could go back home. Home with all the luxuries: space to move around without constantly bumping into someone or something, AC so I am cool, a flushing toilet that’s easily accessible, feeling refreshingly clean every single day, never having to worry about meals and how am I going to whip something up with so few ingredients because I’m in the middle of nowhere and there’s no grocery store in sight to refill, never worrying about using up all the power. I wish I was back in my home that I no longer have, as my current home is a car where everything I use is within sight and dusty and I sometimes hold my pee in the middle of the night because it’s just not that easy to use the toilet and wake everyone up and it’s better to just fidget all night long with this pressure in my bladder.
P.S. In a home, you can take refuge from the heat and humidity.
When we first arrived in Costa Rica, we learned that people here are sensitive to dogs being left in cars, and with Arya not allowed to enter national parks, we were worried that we may end up not being able to do much here. With some research and thinking outside the box, I think we were able to turn around that worry and make the most of Costa Rica so that we actually hit most of our activities!
What did we do? Sometimes we would leave notes in the windshield stating that Arya loves to bark but she has cool air and water. Other times we would tie her to the outside of the car when it was sunny so people would see she is fine with water, air, and the ability to crawl under the shade of the car. When possible, we would inform the parking attendants that she was in the car so they were aware she might bark, but is alright. All good tips we learned from an expat during our first week in Costa Rica :)
I don’t know why (and it’s not just because we are in a camper van), but we have been struggling to be partners for the last three months. Not all the time, but enough that it was becoming tiring and exhaustive and sad. More than all the issues we have gone through in our shared life - from working on a van with idealistic expections, to family obstacles, to sharing a life with another human being - it has been challenging to share a 6 by 10 foot living area. But I think we are getting over this damn hump that is too big and too ugly because this past week was a good one for me and Clark.
Yesterday was a day of rest. No errands. No worrying. No fixing. No arguing. A day to exist. To be present. Nothing more. During this time, Clark and I had some lengthy conversations about our future and what the could look like. One of the topics that came up was the idea of investing in yourself. For me, I've had this idea to start a research company to develop and use a model that would be beneficial to millions of people. But that requires spending money on myself while I apply and try to get funding. But as two people who are unemployed and traveling full-time, spending more money on us for a possible future is scary. But believing in one's self is even scarier. I think I'm going to do it though. Believe in myself. Believe in my partner. Invest and see what happens.
Nos vemos pronto. See you soon. The idea that there’s a small chance, whether through plans or by accident, that you will run into each other again. That through the infinite places and times along this journey, you will be able to reconnect with these people who have become friends. Despite different routes, different paces, and different goals, the hope is that that small chance comes true, even if it is just for one evening.
Can you believe that we have been on the road for only three months? We’re in Guatemala and this life feels so normal and like this is what we have been doing forever. Our life in Cary feels like such a long time ago. Sure there are days where it's hard and miserable and just like what the heck are we doing. But the longer we are on the road, the more this feels natural. Not a dream. Not an adventure. But our life. And yes today, when I am writing this, it’s a good day. We are sitting outside our car, in a grassy area in the middle of Antigua with friends, drinking our coffee and enjoying the morning. It’s a blissful day.
The end of 2025. Our last day of this year. We ran errands fruitlessly and at what felt like the last minute. We drove back and forth across the town in chaos. We ended in exhaustion. This day was an apt summary of our year. Clark defended his PhD, I wrapped up my postdoctoral research, we packed up our entire life in North Carolina, bought a van, built a home, and started a new adventure with very little rest and too much (and somehow still too little) planning. This was a very busy and taxing year. It is not what I want for our 2026. In honor of this hope, we spent New Year's doing the things we want to do more of — being outdoors, being partners, and most importantly, being present.
Driving through the rural mountains. It’s Christmas Day. The kids are all out enjoying the nice weather and playing around. They also all seem to be waving at us. Naturally, we wave back. Quickly we realize they are waving at all the cars and that the local taxis are honking back at them. Our honks don’t sound as friendly so we continue waving back. But…the kids slowly stop waving and their faces contort into confusion…it seems waving back is too weird of a concept, especially with our very odd-looking van. But not waving back seems more rude, so we keep waving anyway.
About once a week, we have these days called drerrands days. They sound as awful as they are. These days are days where we are driving a significant distance and have errands to do like supermarket shopping for things like Greek yogurt, plant-based protein, and soy milk, filling up our water tank, taking out waste, and maybe one or two other things. It’s not a lot but it takes its toll on us both mentally and physically. To combat this, we have started treating ourselves to some cheap comfort food, such as Sam’s Club pizza. Why, you may ask, Sam's Club pizza? Well, most of our past drerrands days have involved a plaza that has Walmart, Sam’s Club, AutoZone, cinapolis, and a couple of other stores all in one plaza which makes doing our errands much easier in the sense it’s a one-stop shop. Anyways, I hope our drerrands days just become regular old errands days in the sense that it doesn’t take such a heavy mental toll on us.
My natural inclination is to always give someone something tasty. Sometimes for no reason, like if we are passing them on the road, and sometimes when they show kindness for helping us fill our water tanks or chasing us down to let us know that our bumper is half off. I always worry though that it could come up as rude especially because unlike when I have a large kitchen, I don’t have many tasty things to share that are homemade or substantial enough for an actual giving of it.
I am lucky to have a partner like Clark. He’s easy when it comes to dumping the pee in the grass or into the sewer. Taking our waste bag and throwing it in the trash. I, on the other hand, would be too worried about what other people are thinking about what I’m doing. Because it does look a little odd. Our urine diverter is attached to a solar shower bag, so to dump our pee out, we take the shower bag and the urine diverter, flip it upside down, and let that liquid drain out the same way it drained in. And when I say we, I most definitely mean only Clark. Our waste bag is a little different as it’s a compostable plastic bag that’s tied up and could be thrown in the dumpster like any other trash. But it feels weird because you know what it is and maybe the people around you are putting two and two together. Who knows.
Arya likes to get really excited as we approach our next stop and that would be cute except for the fact that Clark and I need to focus on the road a little more. And you know how when you are trying to listen to directions or focus extra hard on the road, so you turn the radio down because well, I believe that when one sense is in overdrive we try to dim our other senses. Well, you can’t really mute Arya’s whining and pacing so it’s just all very overwhelming while trying to keep an eye out for shaded topes and watch out for the upcoming turn and hear the warnings we are each outputting.
Drivers here have a habit of flashing you to warn you to be cautious for something. At first, it was very disorienting. Like are we doing something wrong, is this the wrong road, is there a checkpoint, a fight, what is happening?! Half of the time it’s been that there’s traffic or people walking on the road. The other half is because it’s night and we are driving with our lights on and we’ve pissed them off. Why? Because the previous owners put in the brightest headlights they possibly could, so there’s no difference in brightness if we use our brights or if we have our headlights on. There’s also no medium ground between lights on and lights off.
All the military and police. It’s a little jarring. They’re all standing in these pickup trucks but not a pickup truck. You know? When I say a pickup truck, I typically think of a ratty but reliable truck. Nowadays though, pickup trucks are all beefed up. It’s a sad departure in my opinion from what a pickup truck should be. Anyways, these officers will stand all geared up with their rifle and wear a mask over their face which makes them look even more intimidating. The mask is solely for their protection from the dust though. They are standing with their guns in the back of the truck, ready to go. It’s a very imposing image.
There’s this form you fill out when applying for some grants where you write down all your collaborators, professional relationships, and what your students that you have mentored are now doing. It’s weird to think about what my advisor is going to write: Vrinda D. Desai, graduated in 2023, not affiliated…N/A.
Now, I consider myself to be a kind of ambitious person who wants to go out and do great things and make an impact on this world. But when I consider this trip, I may not make an impact on the world…but maybe I’ll make an impact on me.