Clowns, Catrinas, and Coffee: A Costa Rican Halloween

I love Halloween so much—it’s a very, and I mean very, close second to my favorite day of the year: Noche Buena. When I got accepted into my program, I remember thinking how exciting it would be to celebrate the holiday here in Costa Rica. It just seemed like such a fun, quirky holiday to witness through a different cultural lens. But before we dive into the festivities, let me walk you through my week.

Coming back to school after my relaxed, reggae-filled weekend in Puerto Viejo just... didn’t seem fair. My brain was still on the beach, my skin smelled faintly of salt and sunscreen, and I swear I could still hear the faint rhythm of Bob Marley echoing in my head as I opened my laptop Monday morning. Nonetheless, I was back in the swing of classes. And can we take a moment to acknowledge that I’m actually finishing school in a little over a month? Stepping into November feels strange—it carries this weird weight to it. It’s my last full month in Costa Rica and my last full month of college. Both of those realizations bring their own set of unknowns and big, blurry questions about what’s next. But, as this experience keeps teaching me, I just have to keep swimming.

The week itself was pretty chill, as most are here, sprinkled with a little brainstorming for the weekend ahead. I knew I wanted to stay around San José—partly because I wanted to see what Halloween was like in the city, and partly because I have a bunch of field trips coming up and needed a breather. So I made a deal with myself: this would be my weekend to really enjoy Chepe and soak it all in. And it all started on Thursday...

Even though Halloween technically fell on a Friday this year, for some reason the Ticos started celebrating a day early. No complaints here. With the limited resources we had, Anna and I decided to dress up as funky clowns—bright colors, glitter, and a lot of chaotic face paint that somehow looked both hilarious and slightly terrifying. Coming from West Palm Beach, where every holiday means a full-blown block party that shuts down entire streets and turns into chaos, I went in a little guarded. But honestly? It was such a fun night-drinks were had, dance floors were shredded, and laughter echoed off the walls. By the time we made it home, our faces were smudged, our feet were tired, and we couldn’t stop smiling.

Friday was slower—a much-needed recovery day, if you will. Anna and I wandered into this adorable little café near our house that I somehow hadn’t tried yet (a crime, really). It was the cutest place: sunlight streaming through hanging plants, tiny ceramic cups lined along wooden shelves, and the faint sound of indie music floating through the air. My lunch and midday coffee were spectacular, and the best part? You can paint pottery there! So of course...I will be coming back. Art for the win, people! Later that night, we met up with some friends for dinner, drinks, and card games. And let me just say—Costa Rican sangria hits different. It’s fruity, refreshing, and just sweet enough. I’m going to miss it so much.

Saturday started with a slow, sleepy morning that eventually turned into one of my favorite days yet. We found our way to the Catrinas Festival in Parque Nacional—a celebration inspired by Mexico’s Día de los Muertos. The park was alive with color and sound. Vendors filled the pathways with handmade crafts, painted skulls, and vibrant artwork that seemed to glow in the sunlight. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed as elegant Catrinas—their faces painted with intricate skulls, their clothes exploding with vivid reds, yellows, and purples. It was mesmerizing. The air was bursting with the smell of tacos, grilled corn, and sweet bread I’m still sad I couldn’t eat all of, and the steady beat of mariachi music made the whole park feel like it was alive. I could’ve wandered around for hours, admiring the artistry, people-watching, and soaking it all in. At one point, I just sat down with my tacos, listening to the music and watching families dance, just simply taking it in.

Sunday, we switched gears completely. After all the noise and energy of the festival, we decided to end the weekend outdoors. We drove about 45 minutes outside of San José to hike the Hacienda La Chimba and make it up to La Mano de Mantra—a massive hand sculpture overlooking the entire valley. The drive wound through lush green hills and coffee fields, and by the time we arrived, the morning mist was just starting to lift. We lucked out with perfect weather: clear skies, golden sunlight, and a soft breeze that carried the scent of pine and wet earth. The trail climbed steeply at points, winding through dense trees and rocky switchbacks, and by the time we reached the top—after about three miles and 700 feet of elevation—it felt like we were standing on top of the world. The view was unreal. Mountains rolled endlessly in every direction, the valley stretched far below, and clouds drifted lazily around us. Standing on that giant hand, it felt like we could touch the sky. And in a weird way, I realized how much I needed that hike—not for any deep or dramatic reason, but just because sometimes you need a good hike and sweat.

So, that’s my week. Nothing too wild, but perfectly pura vida. Maybe that’s the magic of being here—everything slows down just enough to make you appreciate it. And honestly, I’m not in any rush.

As always, pray for me and wish me luck!