If there is one thing I know well about Chicago, it’s the grid. Put me in an unfamiliar part of the city and I could find my way in a matter of minutes. The grid is simple. Every decreasing number will lead you closer to State and Madison. Every increasing number will lead you farther away from it. The south side of Madison is all numbered streets and the north side – all names. If you’re still lost, find out where the lake is to know that that direction is east. Otherwise, look up to the sky for God’s sake, and find out where the sun is.
Unfortunately though, this mode of determining your location is beyond Sir Optimization’s directional optimization. The man got lost driving into the sunset saying, “what direction are we going in?” One would believe that the inability to find the way around his own neighborhood would lead him to dangerous situations. (Especially in a foreign country where he has never been and road signs are as absent as his internal GPS.) Well, one has never been so wrong.
When you visit Costa Rica, know this – there are no road signs. Only until recently did they even put a number on their major highway. Before, it was known only as “a highway”. Directions are given like this, “Take a right at the orange fruit stand, left at the soccer field and then follow your nose until you find any sign that will say the name of the town that the town you’re going to is near.” Not only that, we were in the mountains and our drives looked like this:
I was paralyzed by fear. The woman who rented us the car said, “Make sure you put it into first gear when you go up the really steep hill. You don’t want the car to stop in the middle of the hill.” I have never used a gear other than P, R, N & D. “Is first gear the one will the ‘L’, “ I ask. She rolled her eyes jokingly at Sir Opti as if to say, “Women!” Later that night, I asked Sir Opti, “did you know that first gear was ‘L’?” He said, “No clue.”
So here I am, in the middle of a country I’ve never been to, with hills that are like driving up the side of a wall, directions that resemble a treasure hunt on the back of a cereal box and an Eagle Scout husband who doesn’t know in what direction the sun sets. But like many times before, Sir Opti stepped up to the plate and pulled out a deeply instinctual knowledge that he only reveals when I threaten to take Valium.
The man steps into the beaten up Mitsubishi Montero and takes to the Costa Rican roads like he’s a damn tour guide for Jurassic Park. He’s even smoking a cigarette with one hand out the window while the other is casually drapped on the steering wheel.
At one point he looked like an actor from an old Western, “Say sweetheart, why don’t you go ahead and shift gears for me.” My heart fluttered like a little school girl. Look at my little computer nerd getting all rustic on me. “What are you doing later tonight? You taken?” And then I saw the “really steep hill” and was thwarted back into reality. This is how I reacted:
And yet I look over at Sir Opti and he’s wearing an expression that’s a hybrid of Mr. Cool and Relaxed with a kid playing a video game. And then he said, “This is so fun. It’s like I’m playing a video game.” I realized my computer nerd is taking his rustic nature and turning it back into a nerdy computer reference. “Yes, but we don’t get an extra lives in this game.” (Cue the potential vomiting.)
I will give him all the credit. He really did just “follow his nose” and we traveled through a country we’ve never been to without having to turn around or retrace our steps. He just took to it. We saw the most beautiful country side and the only injuries I sustained were calluses on my hands. Still, give me a grid any day and I can find out where we need to go. Give Sir Opti a riddle from a cereal box and he can tell you where to get the best produce in town in the middle of Central America.
And in true marital fashion, we learned that how we get to our destination is completely different. But we still get there nonetheless – with only a few minor panic attacks, darting glances and a curt “I GOT IT OK??”.
Ah, love. Just like a Costa Rican road. Sometimes you just gotta “follow your nose” even if there are no road signs.
