Under Grumpa's Hat

I have come to a simple conclusion after years of people-watching: we live in the golden age of the participation trophy. Somewhere between “try your best” and “you’re special no matter what,” we accidentally raised people who think they deserve applause for putting on matching socks. I am not saying encouragement is bad, but life does not hand out medals for remembering to floss.

Costa Rica has a way of stripping that mentality down to its flip-flops. This is not the land of “it will be delivered to your table before you even know you want it.” This is the land of “you want it, you find it.” That’s how it was when I grew up and part of the reason why this country feels so “homy”. The beaches will not carry your surfboard for you, the jungle will not clear its own path, and the mango tree will not send a notification to your hammock saying your fruit is ready for pickup.

One afternoon I was at a small soda, sipping my Imperial under a mango tree heavy with ripe fruit. At the next table, a young traveller was staring up at the branches like he was trying to manifest mangoes using sheer willpower. “They should pick these for customers,” he said to his friend, who nodded in agreement. From the look on their faces, I half expected them to lodge a formal complaint with the mango tree itself.

A Tico wandered by, sun-worn and smiling, carrying a long stick with a loop of wire. Without breaking stride, he hooked a couple of mangoes from the tree, sliced them open with a pocketknife, and enjoyed them right there, juice dripping down his chin. He never looked around to see who might do it for him. He knew the truth: if you want a mango, you bring a stick.

The travellers, meanwhile, sat there like two judges at a fruit competition, waiting for the mangoes to leap off the branch, peel themselves, and arrive on a silver platter with a hint of mint. They were the living, sweating embodiment of the participation trophy mindset, expecting the reward without the effort, the prize without the game.

You see, life is not a coach handing out ribbons just because you showed up to the rink or at the field. It is the ocean, tossing you into the waves whether you paddle or not. It is the vending machine that sometimes eats your coins and dares you to shake it. It is the mango tree, standing there full of opportunity, watching to see who will get up and reach.

If you spend your life waiting for the fruit to come to you, you will end up under the tree with nothing but an empty plate and a good view of someone else enjoying the mango. The world owes you nothing. It is giving you the tree, the fruit, and the chance to reach for them. The rest is up to you.