I’m Rob, a 49-year-old, Canadian expat from southern Ontario. And for the last year I’ve been living in a small village in the foothills of Mount Chirripó – Costa Rica’s tallest mountain at 12,500 feet, and, if you believe the new age hippies around here, a spiritual tuning fork for the entire planet.
Bumble led to this place where everything is energy and energy is everything.
And I have to admit, there is a solid basis in quantum physics for the idea. I’m just not quite used to the habit some have that, when you can’t put something you believe into words, you can just shrug and say something about energy.
As for me, I didn’t come here for enlightenment – though I do meditate every morning.
I came here because I matched with Spirit (not her real name). She was a few years older than me, and while I’m used to dating women a little bit on the other side of the equation, her smile, sun dresses, and breezy personality won me over.
We hit it off in the way you sometimes do with a stranger on the internet – followed by fifteen hours of phone calls, a growing sense of possibility, and the shared desire to have someone to share life’s – the expat’s – unique challenges with. I told her I was the open-minded type, but was pretty skeptical about most “conspiracy theories” and “woowoo.” She just laughed, and said, “That’s fine.”
At the time we met on Bumble, I was holed up in a town called Tronadora, near Lake Arenal in the Guanacaste province of Costa Rica. Beautiful, yes, but lonely as hell. My social life was a local WhatsApp group and the occasional conversation with a passerby. So when Spirit mentioned the house next door to her was coming up for rent, I didn’t think twice. I borrowed a truck, packed my life into boxes, and drove 250 kilometers south – straight into the shadow of Chirripó.
Welcome to Woowoo Central
Here’s the thing about this place: it’s not just a mountain. It’s a magnet. Healers, seekers, yogis, tarot readers, crystal enthusiasts, breathwork coaches, astrologers, tantric sex therapists, colloidal silver dealers, cacao purveyors, plant medicine shamans and frog medicine gurus, and people who talk about “light codes” with a twinkle in their eyes. Most of it is pretty harmless, and some of it even quite helpful. Transformational in some cases, I’m sure. But if you can name even the most obscure New Age wellness trend, somebody here is already offering it on weekend retreats.
So, imagine my surprise when I landed on the mountain and realized I’ve moved into something of a conspiracy theory Bermuda Triangle. Suddenly, I’m surrounded by people who won’t drink tap water because chlorine “blocks their pineal gland,” and who think 5G towers are part of a global plot to depopulate the planet. Some people here even believe the government can control the weather. … I had no inkling that Spirit believed any of those things. My first clue was when she said she knew someone that was a “breatharian.” Someone who can live on air and the Universe’s freely available energy. No food, or even water.
Hippies Are Different Here
I grew up around hippies up north. They were into 60s music, pot, acid, and, of course, astrology and tarot readings. But these folks? They’re next-level. They talk about astral travel like catching a bus. They host cacao ceremonies under the full moon. Some of them genuinely believe alien lizard people run the government. They align their politics with the Alex Jones’ of the world. Yikes.
To each his or her own, has always been my motto. Unless you’re hurting someone else, you have every right to your beliefs. And Spirit was truly sweet and caring. Nonetheless, we slowly started to drift apart. There’s only so much self-censorship you can accept in a relationship, and we both were wary of saying exactly what we thought. … But I soon learned that as a non-believer in most of it, I’m the outsider. Once word gets out that I’m a skeptic, everyone gets cagey. Conversations shift. People start sentences, then stop. I can see them mentally editing, wondering if I’ll laugh or judge. I’ve become the “normie” in a village of cosmic hippies. It’s a strange feeling, being the odd one out – not for being too weird, but for not being weird enough.
I do consider myself “spiritual.” And I believe nature is an essential part of that. I can go on glorious hikes and feel one with everything. And then be at a gathering and someone starts talking about how they astral-projected to the Olympus Mons on planet Mars last night. Or that Hurricane Helene was caused by a government “weather weapon.” No kidding. You try to keep a straight face, but then you realize you’re the only one not nodding. That’s when you start to feel the edges of reality shift, just a little. … But here’s the thing about living at the base of a mountain everyone calls “magic.” Some days, the line between what’s real and what’s just a story gets blurry. I started to notice little things. The way the mist would roll down from Chirripó at dusk, swallowing the hills in a hush that felt almost holy. The way the birdsong at dawn sounded less like a chorus and more like a coded message, if you listened long enough. I’d laugh it off, but sometimes, just for a second, I’d catch myself wondering if maybe there was something to all this talk of energy and portals.
Spirit and the Unspoken
I soon began spending nearly all my spare time alone. I’d come a long way to live here, thinking I’d found a true kindred spirit on Bumble. I go on long hikes. And I’m planning my next move. Life goes on. … I did learn a valuable lesson though. It’s very important to define your belief system, red flags, and deal-breakers before you commit time and energy to a relationship. No matter how well things are going and how easy the conversation seems.
As for Spirit, we’re still friends. We wave at each other at the farmers market, sometimes share a coffee, but there’s a distance now. I can’t help but wonder why she never brought up any of this before I moved. If the spiritual stuff is so central to her life, why keep it hidden? Was she worried I’d bail? Or did she just assume I’d catch the vibe once I arrived?
I now realize I should’ve done more due diligence. Maybe I wanted to believe in the fantasy of a fresh start at the foot of a magic mountain. Maybe, after a decade on dating apps, I just wanted to settle down and Spirit seemed like a good bet.
The View from Here
So here I am: a Canadian expat skeptic in Costa Rica, living among people who think living in reality is sort of optional. Some days I mentally roll my eyes, even though I do believe in a “higher power” and maybe even other dimensions. Most days, I just try to keep an open mind and not get into discussions about chemtrails at the farmer’s market.
I currently rent a little cabin a few miles from the nearest village. It’s quiet. The mountain looms above, shrouded in mist, ancient and indifferent to all our human dramas. I still see Spirit. I still go to the farmer’s market. I’m still looking for connection, but I’m a little more cautious now – about people, about promises, about the stories we tell.
