How Costa Ricans Make Everyone Feel at Home
And How You Can Make Everyone Feel at Home Too.
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How Costa Ricans Make Everyone Feel At Home (and How You Can Too)
What This Important Word Means
I’ve been using the word Tico since we arrived in Costa Rica. It’s a ubiquitous word down here and if you ask anyone what it means, they’ll tell you it means “Costa Rican.” Men born here are Ticos. Women born here are Ticas.
I, in my infinite hubris, thought it was just a shortening of the word Costa Rican. It’s got the Ta of Costa and Ca of Rican, so it must just be a shorthand for saying Costa Rican. I’ve been using the word all over the place. “My friend is a Tico my friend is a Tica.”
Then a friend from the US asked, somewhat horrified, “Can YOU say that word?” “Isn’t that a racial slur?” And we laughed.
Tico is a Friendly Word.
Tico is anything but offensive. It’s a friendly word, a word that denotes pride. The way New Yorker’s call themselves Native New Yorkers or Bostonians take pride wearing the green. The main newspaper down here is called The Tico Times. But as much as I’ve been using the word, I didn’t know what it actually meant. So I looked it up.
Just when I thought I couldn’t love a country any more, I found another reason to adore it.
Tico/Tica is a Spanish language suffix that denotes affection. It basically means, affectionately, “little one,” or “sweetie pie.” The way in English we sometimes add y at the ends of words to make them more precious, so mom becomes Mommy, and dog becomes doggy. In Spanish the way you do this is by adding the suffix Tico or Tica. Native Costa Ricans add the suffix “tica” and “tico” to everything, including themselves. And so the name stuck.
This is the Kind of Word a Language-Nerd Like Me Globs Onto.
It’s the kind of thing that a language nerd or a poet like me would glom onto. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.
I know it sounds silly - calling everything by its diminutive, affectionate name, but in a world that is so dehumanizing and distancing, I find it charming, restorative even. It puts me in mind of what I’ve been reading from Robin Wall Kimmer who wrote Braiding Sweetgrass. (You can listen to a talk with her about the book here.)
How people of various Native American tribes never used to refer to the plants or animals as “it,” but instead referred to them as “he,” and “she.” It shows respect for the elements of the world.
St. Francis Assisi used to call the earth by familiar names like “Brother son and sister moon.” (Which is also the name of a movie musical about his life, made in the 60’s.)
My husband likes to make fun of this. I once made the mistake of calling him “The prince of love” and he said, “I think I’m more like the under secretary of love.” After that we had a lot of fun thinking about alternate titles and relationships of things. “Second cousin river otter,” “Sweet stepbrother dandelion.” “There’s my annoying kid sister Katydid,” and “Obtrusive uncle poison ivy leaving its mark,” and “all our cousins the crickets are serenading us tonight.”
I’d imagine that like with any other idiom, people eventually start to gloss over it. They forget what it means or why they use it. But I’d like to think the intention behind the word remains. Maybe on some less than conscious level people feel more affectionate towards one another, like they belong to one another, like they are family. Not just the people, but also the plants and animals too.
I try to use the English equivalent of “Tico.”
To try to live a more Pura Vida life, I try it on for size myself. I go for walks down the sweet little road, look at the sweet little birds, sit at the restaurant and look over that sweet little ocean, which is becoming more and more familiar to me each week. I ask the sweet little waiter if I can have a sweet little cup of coffee and when he brings it to me I drink it slowly. Sweet mother coffee, nourishing me and waking me up to this adorable, adorable world.