This picture was taken by my father on July 27, 2009 in Costa Rica. I remember the exact date for two very specific reasons. The first being that the moment captured in this photo occurred the day before my family left Costa Rica, and also because of the action which we had all just completed prior to the this picture being taken.
The three people standing in the forefront of the photo are my younger sister, me, and our Tico guide Fernando. The three of us, as well as my father, had been travelling together for a total of five days and were on our way back to San Jose to catch a plane back to the US when we stopped at this location. We had discussed stopping here on the way to Monteverde, a beautiful mountain town surrounded by thick rainforest and located strategically located between two national parks, but had put it off due to nerves. The thick metal railing dissecting the picture hint at the fact that we are standing on a bridge, as does the plethora of green trees who's height is dwarfed by our own elevation, but it is impossible to gauge the distance between it and the ground. There is an approximately 265 foot drop from the bridge to the roaring water rushing below us. If one is afraid of heights, which I admittedly am to some degree, looking straight down would not be advised.
The two men wearing yellow shirts in the background were responsible for tightly securing our ankles to a long rubber band of a rope and fashioning our wastes with harnesses just in case something went terribly wrong. For a few brief moments, our lives were completely in their hands. They were encouraging, although somewhat sarcastic and taunting at points, and assured us that everything would be fine. The instructions that they gave us went something like this, "You will sit on the edge of the bridge facing us as we secure your ankles. After we have finished you will turn around and step out on the ledge, which looked very much like a diving board, and drop the rope over the edge in front of you. You should align your toes with the edge of the ledge while holding on to the pole beside you, and we will begin to count from four back to one. At the point that one is called out, you jump, hands out beside you as if you are flying. Oh, and don't look down..." As if we hadn't already looked down and our hearts were not beating fast enough already. I remember my hands feeling like they were being pricked by a thousand little needles and feeling my heart beat in my ponytail, which was obviously taken out before the picture.
All four of us had already made the jump before the picture was taken, and although one cannot easily glean it through our smiling faces and laid back postures, we were still shaking from the surge of adrenaline that shot through our bodies moments before. My shoes have yet to be put back on after the jump, even though I went first. My camera is hanging across my body, still warm from shooting the descents of my father and sister. My sister still holds my father's belongings, including his wedding ring and pocket change, removed before the big jump. The Tico's behind us are undoubtedly still laughing softly to themselves about the terror that they saw cross our faces in the moments between stepping out on the ledge and flinging our bodies toward potential death by impact.
This picture captures the aftermath of few mere seconds of my life that I will never forget, and that I hope to reenact someday in the future.
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