Our last day in Costa Rica was reserved for white water rafting. An hour and half drive led us to the Sarapiqui River where we met the outfitter to take us down the river. After putting on our required life vests and helmets, and getting warned about piranhas, we climbed up a fifteen-foot cliff that overlooked the river.
“Jump!” a guide shouted up to me from below. Of course, I was the first one in line. I sighed, plugged my nose and stepped off the ledge before I could change my mind. I fell through the air and hit the water hard, sinking into the surprisingly cold water before I quickly popped back to the top. Once we were all in the river, we paddled over to our rafts and hauled our sodden selves in.
“Jump!” a guide shouted up to me from below. Of course, I was the first one in line. I sighed, plugged my nose and stepped off the ledge before I could change my mind. I fell through the air and hit the water hard, sinking into the surprisingly cold water before I quickly popped back to the top. Once we were all in the river, we paddled over to our rafts and hauled our sodden selves in.
Most of the rapids were small, but the lush surroundings made me feel like I was in a scene out of Jurassic Park. There was green in every direction, and it didn’t take long for it to start pouring rain. We continued to float down the lazy river, then went through a few exciting rapids. Our guide instructed us to jump out and swim to the shore, where another raft was waiting with several pineapples and watermelons. A staff member with a thick-bladed knife cut the juicy fruit into fist-sized chunks, and we ate it right on the water’s edge.
After swimming around in the river bend, one of the guides starting throwing chunks of watermelon into the river. The chunks disappeared—fast. Too fast, in fact. I was standing waist deep in the water, and my heart rate quickened when a piece of fruit landed right by my elbow and vanished in under a second. I casually called to the guide on shore and asked what kind of fish were in the water. Nonchalantly, he replied, “piranhas.”
I assumed the outfitter was joking about the carnivorous fish that was mentioned at the start of the trip, but I suddenly had the desire to eat some more fruit and got out of the water. I quietly asked my own guide if the other one was being serious. “Yeah, he is,” she said, while grabbing some abandoned paddles. I took another step forward away from the water. She smiled, “but they’re too small to bite people.” The guide spent the next several minutes assuring me that the fish were not the same species as in South America that eat meat down to the bone. I felt slightly less panicked, but still made a mental note not to fall out of the boat on the next rapid.
I assumed the outfitter was joking about the carnivorous fish that was mentioned at the start of the trip, but I suddenly had the desire to eat some more fruit and got out of the water. I quietly asked my own guide if the other one was being serious. “Yeah, he is,” she said, while grabbing some abandoned paddles. I took another step forward away from the water. She smiled, “but they’re too small to bite people.” The guide spent the next several minutes assuring me that the fish were not the same species as in South America that eat meat down to the bone. I felt slightly less panicked, but still made a mental note not to fall out of the boat on the next rapid.
