After living in Costa Rica for a couple of years, I set out to explore Panama. Traveling light, I had set out an ambitious schedule to take me from San Jose to Panama City by bus, with one or two day stopovers along the way. The first stop was David, third largest city in Panama, best known as a “visa run” destination for resident tourists in Costa Rica, where I checked into a hostel for the night. That proved long enough and I boarded an early morning bus for Boquete, famed as one of the best retirement destination in the world. I lucked out with the weather, usually rainy and unpredictable, and under blue skies and sunshine, spent two days exploring the area and talking to other guests in the pleasant hostel >>> set off the main road next to a brook.

After two days, I was ready to move on and resolved to visit the island of Boca Brava in Chiriqui, even though the guide only mentioned the area briefly and it wasn't clear how to get there. After getting the bus back to the terminal in David, I was able to find a minibus heading that way, from there I would need to get a “collectivo” to the port of Boca Chica to catch a “lancha” over to the island. All new terms to me, and the minibus driver sensing my confusion, called ahead and dropped me off at a local store where the “collectivo” driver was waiting for me.

The “collectivo” was a small open truck with benches installed in the rear. I was thankful to ride up front, on the slow bumpy road that seemed to stretch endlessly, past teak plantations and small villages with modest houses made of sheet metal propped up on wood over bare earth. What struck me was how well tended they were: front yard swept clean, flowers lining the fence. People smiled and waved as we drove past and I felt as though I was going in the right direction, without knowing why.

In Boca Chica, I paid the driver the $1 fare and he waved me towards the end of the road which came to an abrupt end at the water's edge. There, all was commotion as locals unloaded a truck heavy with food, water, tools into a long narrow boat, the “lancha”. As I stood unsure what to ask for, I heard someone speaking French. The couple, were working out how to get everything into the boat and directing the others in Spanish. I greeted them in French, and they stopped to chat then called over someone who could take me to Boca Brava.

The boat ride took only three minutes and yet I felt suspended in time in that narrow waterway between the mainland and the lush island. Large frigate birds and pelicans swooped overhead in the afternoon sun, the rush of wind drying off the heat of the journey. When we pulled up to the dock of the Boca Brava hotel, I was spellbound and there my journey began.

Since moving to Costa Rica in 2010, 'god willing' is the expression I hear most often after 'Pura Vida'. Most future events are subject to divine intervention from "I'll see you tomorrow" to just about anything that you plan to happen. When I first heard this, the idea that god could have a different plan filled me with dread. In time, I came to understand that when things don't go according to plan, it's that another day may serve just as well. However, I can't help but think that the common use of this expression has direct correlation with lack of commitment and low productivity. 
You can use this expression any time you are making plans in the short term, it goes hand in hand with the Costa Rican way of saying 'yes' to everything and then deciding at the last moment and without notice whether 'yes' actually meant 'no'.