Davia Antonio, who left the United States for Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica, 10 years ago, when she saw a Trump presidency as a real possibility, sums up the vibe in the town by explaining what happens when power goes out–a fairly regular occurrence in the still-developing nation. 

“We just go to the beach and wait for the power to come back on,” she says, speaking of the sizable and growing population of fellow Black Americans who’ve left the U.S. for Costa Rica. “We have a group chat on WhatsApp; it's like 400 people. It’ll be like, ‘Who else's power is out? Let’s meet at the beach. Who has dominoes? Who has cards?’ It’ll be like a little pop out. If I was in LA and the power went out, I’d freak out. Let's just hang out until the power comes back on. Because what else can you do? When you live in freedom for so long, your mindset shifts.” 

Antonio, who runs a relocation service, LifeAcholic Costa Rica, to help other people move to and get settled in Costa Rica, is part of an increasing number of Black Americans fed up with the U.S. and seeking solace and safety abroad. As part of BET’s ongoing series chronicling the experiences of Black Americans who have left the United States, Antonio and her husband, Gregory Antonio, whom she met there, shared their expertise on leaving and settling far away from home. “For me, it was a combination of things,” Gregory says. “It was the reality that no matter how hard I worked, I wasn't getting anywhere really, that I wasn't going to be able to really own things there. Combine that with the racism that's endemic in America, and I felt that I deserved better than that. It’s liberating.” 

As with cities like, say Lisbon, Portugal, Puerto Viejo holds a special allure for Black people; its roots as a place where many Jamiacns came in the late 19th century to build railroads make it a destination with heavy Afro-Caribbean influence, and therefore organically welcoming to Black folks looking for a sense of belonging and community. Both Davia and Gregory say that, beyond the systemic and perpetual racism that plagues the U.S., they’ve found the pace of life in Costa Rica, as well as the simplicity of living there, supremely beneficial to their well-being. Davia jokes that when she moved there a decade ago, she arrived with suitcases full of designer clothes and pricey handbags that sat unopened for so long they became moldy and eventually found their way to the curb for disposal. “I was able to let go and focus on what matters: people, their children, how much time you can spend at the beach…all that stuff in the suitcase doesn't matter. I'm a changed person.” Her husband, a lawyer who can practice remotely and travel to the U.S. as needed for work, agreed. “You need to have peace and love, relationships, and community. That's it. Everything else doesn’t matter.

Laurnea, the artist that people of a certain age remember from the seminal 90s group Arrested Development, lives close to P.V. and co-signed their assessment. She says the differences between life here and there boil down to the very basics. “It’s just beautiful here,” she says. “It’s green. The air is fresh. The people are wonderful. You don’t have to lock your doors. The vegetables are delicious; food here is not like food in America, which is not really food but a bunch of stuff.” 

A longtime performing, recording, and visual artist, Laurnea has found Costa Rica to be incredibly beneficial in providing her with the mental clarity and freedom she needs to create; she moved there to build an amphitheater and a healing retreat. “All the stress being in the music industry, film, and TV, all that sense of competition all the time. I’m in a place to really be open and do the things I want. I wake up every morning and I do what never makes me happy.” 

Of course, life there isn’t all roses. Particularly for people from a wealthy nation like the U.S., moving to a country considered “developing” can present some challenges and frustrations. There are infrastructure issues, such as the aforementioned power outages, and this isn’t a place where ultra-modern conveniences like Amazon or Postmates delivery are reliable or even existent. Davia says it took her six years to really learn how to use its banking system, which she called “absolutely atrocious.” She says that some people who arrive there expecting the same lifestyle and preferences they had at home often receive reality checks that send them back home. 

“I bring my seasoning salt [when I return to the U.S.],” she says. “I bring my Slap Yo Mama. And that's it. You learn to live like the locals, learn to buy locally, and then you won't have those issues. They don't have no edge cream out here. I'm like, ‘Girl, let them edges snap up and be free. Nobody cares about your hair. No one.” 

Ultimately, the Black expats who’ve moved there find that the things they gain far outweigh the things they had to give up. “I call my friends back in the States, and they tell me what’s happening because I don’t watch. I tell them, ‘You don’t have to live under those stress levels.’ I’m not going back.”