Thelife- Dena Levitz lived in Costa Rica for one month on a voluntary work exchange.
- She found the program through a website that connects yoga instructors with resorts.
At the tail end of 2019, I moved from Dublin, Ireland — where I'd spent the prior four years on a work visa — back to the US to make a new life in New York City.
Living in a major urban center with skyscrapers, subways, and endless entertainment was a goal of mine for years, but after a mere three months enjoying and settling into NYC, the COVID pandemic abruptly shut everything down. As a seasoned traveler, who'd visited 35 countries, staying put ran counter to all of my impulses, and I leaned into my yoga practice and teaching for needed solace and comfort.
Once COVID became less of a threat, I decided I needed to get back out in the world and, perhaps, I could do it differently this time. I started brainstorming out-of-the-box, cheap travel hacks earlier this year with a friend and ended up swapping yoga instructions for a free month of living in Costa Rica, courtesy of a work exchange program.
The experience reinvigorated me and has changed my approach to traveling and living sustainably ever since.
I came across a website that listed retreats offering free stay to yoga instructors
The website is set up like a dating platform. Yoga teachers create profiles to tout their training and experience, while retreat centers, studios, and resorts post openings for instructors to come lead mindful movement classes or special events onsite.
From what I could gather, the frequent setup was that teachers were compensated not so much with money, but with free lodging, meals, and other perks. Right away, a sustainable ranch in a remote rainforest-laden part of Costa Rica stuck out to me. It was close to Lake Arenal and the Arenal Volcano, and I appreciated that, while guests came from all over the world, its 50-person staff was primarily Costa Rican.
The ranch required a one-month commitment for a voluntary work exchange gig
It wasn't a yoga center per se; more of a carbon-negative community. The eco-resort sat on 400-acres and had a beautiful outdoor yoga shala, natural swimming pools, an extensive garden, and a farm with chickens and pigs, and horses who ran free when not being corralled for riding excursions.
It was exactly the kind of nature-focused setting I was so desperately craving, so I reached out. Getting "hired" and setting arrangements took an application; reference checks; and an interview with the ranch owner's wife, a yogi herself. The application process took three months. By March we had agreed on my start date, July 15 with the option to extend my time if both sides desired.
Essentially, each day I taught one or two 60-minute yoga classes. Most days I also spent two or three hours assisting with basic physical tasks on "La Huerta" (the vegetable garden) like pulling weeds. In exchange, the ranch provided me with a bed and three meals a day, cooked by a well-trained kitchen staff from food primarily grown on site.
My stay was complimentary, but there were aspects I needed to cover
I mainly needed to get myself to Costa Rica and to the sustainable ranch site itself.
Naturally, the price of flights vary. I booked a direct flight to San José, Costa Rica, from JFK in May, far enough in advance that the round-trip direct flights cost me under $700. The ranch required proof of travel insurance as a sort-of guarantee that volunteers would show up. This I managed to purchase for about $175 overall.
The other travel cost was a shuttle from the airport in San José to the very remote ranch site about four hours away. Here, the volunteer coordinator suggested a local shuttle company that made the trek once a day for about $65 per person.
Back home in New York I managed to find a friend of a friend who could stay in my apartment, care for my plants, and pay my living expenses while I was away, so I could afford the trip.
Not being entirely free to enjoy down time was a bit of a bummer that we poked fun at
Because I was essentially unpaid staff, there was a set routine and certain rules the team of volunteers had to abide by. We especially had to follow rules around when to access the buffet at meal times and which swimming areas were on and off limits (so guests got first priority). We learned to accept the schedule, given all of the positive aspects of the experience.
As opposed to the more spacious bungalows, complete with hammocks and fans, work exchange volunteers stayed in the more dorm-like farmhouse. That setup lacked any internet access and featured communal showers, small individual rooms with twin-size bunk beds, and a steady slew of mosquitoes whose preferred feast seemed to be my feet.
The accommodations weren't exactly the high point. But it was the one aspect that pandemic life in a small Manhattan apartment had prepared me for.
Of highest value to me, I was able to be part of a sustainable community
I really got to know the inner workings of a sustainable community. It's the kind of place where nothing is wasted — animal excrement is composted, cooking oil becomes the basis for soap, and extra greens like kale are chopped up and fed to the fish, swimming in a pond adjacent to the farm. Seeing this level of environmental urgency in action was truly inspiring.
The two daily yoga classes were predetermined: a 7 a.m. more dynamic class and a 4 p.m more restorative class. After a few days of adjusting to teaching over the vibrant sounds of the rushing river, chirping birds, and frequent rainstorms, my creativity as a yoga teacher soared.
I wasn't bogged down with the kinds of peripheral thoughts that might distract me at home: How would I get to that far-off Brooklyn studio where I'd be subbing today? Did I need to bring props? Was there a different invoicing system for this business? As I began to feel comfortable with the regular cadence of the day, I found myself clear-headed, more present and loving the ability to teach exactly who was in front of me.
This is how life should be lived
It's fair to say I was eating and sleeping better. By day five I was waking up at 5:45 a.m. without an alarm and sitting in meditation amidst the trees before doing anything else. In contrast to New York, where I was often awake well past midnight, evenings at the ranch usually wrapped before 10 p.m. with me practicing my Spanish, having sing-alongs with staff, and cozying up to a book.
During the day, the work that I undertook in the garden felt meditative and meaningful because, through my individual efforts, I was tangibly contributing and creating. If I was harvesting jalapeños, for example, the peppers would show up on the dinner spread later, and this made me proud.
Being connected to something bigger than myself was more satisfying than I could have imagined and something I'm constantly trying to recapture back in New York. This experience made me feel like my truest self. It's a reset I'd like to repeat each year going forward and would recommend to anyone else seeking a similar feeling of connection in a travel destination.