A Broad In Costa Rica

"You had your eyes done? [Pause.] Really?"

I kid you not: a woman I really like, who I consider a friend, said this to me at lunch the other day. To her credit, she looked a little chagrined... but she didn't take it back. She waited for an answer!!!! Am I wearing a sign that says, "Abuse me, please. My ego is way outta hand."?

So, no, I am not 60 yet (although it's creeping up: I'll be 54 in about 3 weeks and, yes, I'm a little depressed about that). And, yes, I've had my eyes done. Please, whatever you say, do NOT mention my weight, do NOT ask me if I would consider voice lessons, and do NOT ask me if those giant handsome boys are my grandchildren. Otherwise, we can talk about anything at all. Thank you.

Huge Bummer

Costa Rica seems intent on passing the new immigration bill. A revised version just passed the first hurdle unanimously. The only good thing in the revision was that one can still apply for permanent residency after three years instead of five. As long as you have beaucoup bucks to be able to stay here the first three years. Which we don't. Au contraire. We are livin' on faith now...

A major sticking point is whether or not those who have already applied for residency and have their cedula [SAY-do-lah, id], either as rentista, pensionado or inversionista, need to meet the higher income requirements. If yes, we have to move. End of story. "A Broad In Dubai" anyone? (Just kidding - wonder what Dubai's income requirements are? Probably through the roof.)

As usual, the expats are on fire over at Costa Rica Living. A friend is having his lawyer get a copy of the bill and interpret it for us. Most of my friends here have so much more to lose if this passes and they can't meet the new income requirements. Think of the flood of property on the market... Life savings and dreams down the tubes.

I am curious about motive. And the future of living in Costa Rica.

If this passes and grandfathers in those who already have cedulas, that would be a relief. However, we would still be living in a country where we are basically only tolerated. Perhaps that is how it is now - some longtime expats suggest this is true - but I've never felt that way. Until now.

If middle class gringos can't move here, what will happen to the real estate market? A few weeks ago, there was a real estate conference here. Ellie said that the tico brokers were unconcerned about the new law, that they were focused on drawing big developers here. But big developers are going to need the gringo middle class to buy their condos. Would an educated gringo buy into a country where their resale value will be contingent on a smaller pool of buyers? Richer, but significantly smaller in number. Said buyers having an abundance of property from which to choose?

Scarcity of a thing makes the price go up. Abundance makes it go down. This includes employees.

It seems to me real estate and tourism are the two biggest "employers" here, tourism including gambling and sex. Gambling and sex will always draw people. But the majority of other businesses (restaurants, movies, movie rentals, gringo grocery stores, gas stations in Escazú, all businesses that cater to gringos) are bound to suffer big, putting ticos out of work. There will be plenty of maids and gardeners from which to choose and those wages will go down. Even though the expats will be richer.

Maybe there are big new corporations building factories/call centers here and offering jobs? Maybe the goal is to kill the real estate market because Costa Ricans see their land being priced out of reach of ticos? Somewhere, somehow, the politics of envy* seems to play into this decision.

From what I've seen, the administration has no real interest in preserving ecology for future generations so I don't see that as valid reasoning for the admin to stomp the real estate market.

For now, we are making contingency plans. Even if we can stay - and that is my first choice - I keep coming back around to "do I want to live in a country that doesn't really welcome me?"

Plus, I do have increasing concerns about crime. (OK, Adam, you were right.) It seems certain that, as the economy gets tougher, violent crime will increase. It seems to be now. How much can I take? We watch our backs as we pull into our garage. We have a frickin' gun, which is normal for us. We usually have a frickin' arsenal. But now, we would not be surprised to have to use the darn thing on another human being. That is new. Our house is locked up ALL the time - dogs in or out. My sons now wear alarm buttons on their belts. How cool is that?

One of our favorite things about living here has been the live and let live attitude. Peaceful. It's how it felt when we arrived three years ago. Maybe we dreamed that? Maybe we were so anxious to find that, we did. It doesn't seem like that now.

Our future at this moment is uncertain. That doesn't mean we can't have a delicious Thanksgiving feast tomorrow! We have so much to be grateful for: the boys are good, we are all healthy, we've had an incredible experience the last three years. And there's a great big world out there. We just have to keep the door open to what's next. Pura vida. We're definitely keeping that!

*The desire for material things, and envy of those who possess them.

In America

"In America, you'll get food to eat. Don't have to run through the jungle and scuff up your feet. You'll just sing about Jesus and drink wine all day. It's great to be an American."
                      - from Sail Away, Randy Newman's clever slave-trade ditty

All true, so far. We're here in the good ole U.S. of A. Hal's mom was not well (she's better now), Spirit Air had tickets for $250 each = a good time to see what's up here. I guess the USA is still the same... but a few things struck me right off. Like:

• Once the shock of Naples' grandiosity subsided, it feels like we never left (Hal's mom lives in Naples)
• Cottage cheese is the best thing since sliced bread. We've eaten at least one large container a day.
• We are doing all day here what we do all day there: sit in front of our computers for work and play. Does it matter where we are?
• For all my whining about missing my buddies, we've seen and actually talked to those buddies more during our visits in the last two years than we did the 25 years before that. Ok, that's a slight exaggeration, but not far off...
• There are fewer people here who are really important to me than I thought. The really important people are in my radar no matter where I am in the world.
• Everything in Florida is flat, not a hill in sight. Except for the...
• Convoluted highways with overpasses three and four deep
• Drivers know how to merge
• Going 80mph
• Girls as tall as Morgan (6' 1")
• $2.50 tolls
• Too much English spoken
• Everybody comes to a complete stop at stoplights, then they wait till it turns green to go. What a concept.
• Country music on the radio
• All the roads have names. In Naples, they all have two-word names, like Rattlesnake Hammock Drive and Imperial Wilderness Way.
• I have not seen one guy peeing on the side of the road
• No farm animals tied up to people's houses
• No farm animals being herded through town
• No farm animals grazing along the road
• No farm animal poop anywhere
• If you don't jam on the gas pedal the second the light turns green, no one honks their horn
• Restaurants are EXPENSIVE. I will never not complain about Costa Rica's restaurants.
• Even though we constantly chat amongst our expat selves over there about how civil liberties are being sacrificed right and left over here, when you are here, you don't even notice. Which is, of course, how they get away with it.
• Everyone says "cahstah" Rica, even after hearing us say "coast-ah" Rica.

Have we really been gone two years? I feel like I stepped through a wormhole. The only way I know it's been so long is that I'm different: calmer, happier. And the boys have doubled in size. Otherwise, it seems so regular to be here.

I admit it: I love Key West. I love seeing my girlfriends, I love seeing Key West so green and lush - it's finally recovered from Wilma. The houses are so pretty, the streets so whole. The town maintains a prosperous air (even though it is most decidedly not.) A pretty, sunny, familiar face.

I spent last week running around, doing unexpected business. Like I got a new property management customer, wrote an offer for a buyer on a foreclosure (plenty of those around), joined forces with a long-time REALTOR® here, met with a REALTOR® up the keys who's had a Costa Rica real estate office in Heredia for 25 years. Perhaps I will do some referral work with her.

From here on out, it's playtime. Like there is some very fine music to be enjoyed. Photo left: Skipper Kripitz, Leanna Collins and Gordy Michaels make the jazz at The Gardens Hotel on Sunday Afternoons.

I saw a local dance company's beautiful production at the Waterfront Playhouse, one of the three busy theatres here. Starting top left in the photo is Kyra and Andres (oh my God, you cannot take your eyes off Andres), then Leigh, Denis (ditto Denis) and Mary Kay. Real honest-to-God dancers.

The Robert Frost Festival starts next week. Key West is famous for its talent. I'm suddenly very aware of it and determined to enjoy as much as possible. Because, you know, I'm a singer in a geezer band now. Gotta stay up with my people.

Key West's real estate market is suffering badly and the worst is yet to come. Like a house I sold (not pictured) for $850,000 the winter of '05 is now going for $350,000. I've heard of others. "Deals" like this are just now making the Coconut Telegraph. Countrywide has $500M in loans here in Key West; $90M are in foreclosure. The snowball is at the top of the mountain. Once all these foreclosures hit the local MSM, it's all she wrote. I'm thinking the bottom will appear in the next year to two years. Unless you are a savvy real estate buyer, save your money.

"Ain't no lions or tigers, ain't no mamba snake. Just the sweet watermelon and the buckwheat cake. Ev'rybody is as happy as a man can be. Climb aboard, little wog, sail away with me."

After being stateside these past few days, a Deep Thought crystallized. I've circled this bridge before and nobody wants to hear me say it out loud, least of all my husband. It's practically blasphemy in the expat world. But here it is: Costa Rica is not cheap enough to justify how hard the day-to-day life is. Hard being mostly culture shock, roads and crime. Feeling like a target all the time is wearing on a body. As is being jostled around in your car practically every minute you are in it.

It's not all bad: I love the life there. I'm looking forward to going back. We've made excellent friends. Nothing would have forced us to think outside the income box except living where that's the only option. Besides, what would my geezer band do without me?

If I were rich, where would I live right now? I'd live in Costa Rica and travel on a whim, no contest. But we're not rich and cost of living is key: it was a major consideration when choosing Costa Rica. Yes, there are places in the U.S. cheaper than Costa Rica. Not that I want to actually live any of those places, but at this point in my life, I'll consider anything. Necessity and all that.

In a year, Key West will be affordable. The really critical thing is: I can work here. I've LOVED working the past few days. I like earning money, I like dressing up and doing my thing. I spent twelve years building a business, then just walked out. I could still walk back in - that is compelling. I guess I miss that more than I thought.

Here's something else that been eating at me lately: the boys can get jobs here. They are ready and it's not possible in Costa Rica. Probably seems like a little thing to you, but niggling at me...

Plus there's Hansa's cooking. Oh my goodness. Spicy, delicious vegetarian food. Hansa can cook and I'm always welcome at her table. Like tonight. She told me I can go on YouTube and find videos for making her recipes. While her dishes are so exotic to me, I guess they are "everyday" in India... if I cooked in Costa Rica like Hansa cooks in Key West, I'll bet our food bill would be way cheaper!

For now, I'll keep pretending I'm rich: living in Costa Rica, traveling on a whim. One day at a time. This sure seems to be working for us. Funny, every time I think this issue is settled, something comes along to rattle that cage.

"In America every man is free to take care of his home and his family. You'll be as happy as a monkey in a monkey tree. You're all gonna be an American."

Mavis

My new friend Mavis died yesterday. This is a picture of Mavis with my other new friend, Barbara, at January's lunada. The lunadas are at Mavis/Barry's house, Mavis being the mother of Barry, the head geezer in my geezer band, Harmony Roads. Barbara, the only other chick in the band and not really a geezer ... yet ... has known Mavis since Barbara moved to Costa Rica 39 years ago.

To me, Mavis is an inspiration, La Reina (lah ray-EE-nah, the queen) of Costa Rica's expats. She's lived here so long, it's hard to think of her as an expat, an outsider. Particularly since, along with her son, Rick and her daughter-in-law Karen, she wrote The Ticos, Culture and Social Change in Costa Rica. Published in 1998, it is a fantastic resource. Even though it's non-fiction, I actually thoroughly skimmed it. (The only books I read cover-to-cover these days are bodice-rippers. Sad, but true. Blame it on Jan.)

I met Mavis a few months ago at a book club meeting at her house. She was the one who read the poem about Carrots Fucking The Earth. I loved her immediately and decided to do whatever it took to hang out with her. I have a penchant for LOLs (little old ladies). Like Sandford, my Key West mom. Sandford and I had sushi every week for 17 years. She just celebrated another birthday and is well into her 80's. Then there's Jo, my other Key West LOL of many many years... The fact is some LOLs know some very useful stuff. Stuff you only learn by living a really, really long time.

Mavis, a prolific writer, had just started a writer's group, planning to meet every two weeks at her house. There were five of us: Barbara, Mavis, Jo Stuart, Sandy and me. I'm not sure how I got in this group... I can't even identify a subjective tense. Maybe they didn't know that. But I do write, sometimes endlessly... that must qualify me. I secretly think Mavis felt about me like I did her: energía simpática. The few times we were together, we laughed a LOT. The first writer's group meeting was a week ago last Tuesday. We each read something we'd written - I read This Ain't No Workout-Time, a post that got us all laughing. They, on the other hand, read stuff that could actually get published... I was impressed.

Mavis looked a little peaked at the meeting. Two days later she was in bed and in CIMA two days after that. I visited Monday. Every breath was a struggle, I never expected she'd live through the night. But I underestimated her like we tend to do LOLs. Mavis' family was getting to Costa Rica as fast as they could, the last arriving yesterday morning. She very generously decided to wait. As soon as they were all there, holding hands around her, she took her leave. Talk about living to the end. I aspire to this.

Where've I Been?

Just now at Volcán Arenal with Mom and Aunt Gay, mom's baby sister. This was my third time at the volcano, my favorite place in Costa Rica so far. Volcán Arenal is flawless, when you can see it.

Did you know, on a clear day, you can see the top of Arenal from San Ramon, two hours to the south of it? Huge and magnificent, an incredible sight. This picture (right: you click on it to make it bigger, Arenal's peak is smack in the middle) doesn't do it justice. Remember the look on Sam Neill's face when he sees the brontosaurus for the first time in Jurassic Park? That's how I felt seeing the top of Arenal looming in the distance. Amazing.

Saturday night, after a brilliantly clear day, we got a brilliantly clear night. Several thunder rolls from deep in the belly of the beast - at first you think it's thunder or a jet flying overhead. 'Cept no storm clouds and no jets... Arenal, she speaks. Then display after display of fire rocks rolling down the side. We were very lucky to see that because the next two days, until our drive home, she was completely in the clouds. You just see the bottom of a hill, not even a peek of a peak.

Sunday afternoon, we did the hanging bridge tour which was lovely, but I wouldn't do it again. It was just like the La Paz Waterfall walk without the waterfalls. In both, you walk for two-three hours through wet rainforest, mesmerized by the opportunistic life around you. If something dies, something else grows on it, sucking the last bit of life out of it, making the dead thing part of the living thing, thriving. Our guide pointed out that when something falls in the jungle, it's just making room for something else. You get a real sense of that happening here, even as you are walking past. Nothing goes to waste in a rainforest.

This afternoon we drove back a different route, via Ciudad Quesada/San Carlos. Wow. This is one of the most beautiful roads I've been on in Costa Rica. Treacherous and curvy, mountainous, very much like Cerro de la Muerte (hill of the dead), the road to San Isidro de General on the southern Pacific coast near Dominical.

Loaded with 18 wheelers (one of which was turned on its side after touching bumpers with a compadre) taking up more than their share of the road, adding to the thrill. But the views: mountain range after range, so green, providing incredible vistas with Volcán Arenal as the backdrop. Huge wow for me.

Where I've been the past two weeks is at a crossroads. A little panicky. Today, 28 Jan 2008, marks our two year anniversary in Costa Rica. It's been heaven, we have grown to love life here. It really is different. We are different. We never expected it. At least I didn't. Hal's been ready for a change for some time, but neither of us would have prophesied living in Costa Rica for good. If you'd known us then, you wouldn't have either. But here we are.

Spending our children's inheritance, now too pitiful a sum to call "inheritance," but, thankfully, still enough to buy an income. Which we must do NOW or move in with one of you. Any volunteers? There's just the five of us and three big muddy dogs. I'll keep checking my inbox for the invites. In the meantime...

What to do, what to do? We've filled and erased three oversized white-boards with every Option & Idea we can think of, now filling the fourth. The first white-board was the most revealing.

On it, we'd listed pros/cons on going back to the states. Any business we do, especially if there were product involved, would be easier in the states. Like, Hal's been trying to get a test copy of his book in paperback from Lightening Source. They've shipped out three, so far. All three lost, sent to the wrong address even though he's emailed the exact dirección. The last copy went to Mexico due to a typo. Customer service for a product would be a nightmare from here. So, product from here? That's out. Product in the U.S.? Doable.

Buying a business with employees in Costa Rica is out. All we hear from gringos who own businesses here are the many ways you are taken advantage of and ripped off. You have to be at your business every minute it's open. You might as well have a job. On top of that, if you are going to own a business here with employees, you better be fluent in Spanish. As comfortable as we are with the language, we are at least a year out from being anywhere close to that. Probably ten. So employee biz here? Out. In the U.S.? Doable.

Our ace-in-the-hole plan would be to move to Gainesville, buy a business there (bar or shooting range, natch) while I spend three years in acupuncture school. That was the loosely held plan before moving to Costa Rica. We saw the end of the real estate game looming large and acupuncture is a good fit for me - I would love this career. Definitely doable.

As far as the boys go, being in the U.S. would be a good thing. They could get part-time jobs. There's a wealth of learning opportunities in a college town for teens, including college. We could live in Gainesville for probably less than what it costs to live here. Sad, but true. Security would not be an issue there. Better roads. Cheap Triscuits. Huge cheap bookstores. I mean, the only thing we can no longer live without is an income. If having one means living in the U.S., so be it. Would it be so bad? Heck, you do what you have to.

Well, we sat with that pro/con list for a few days, pretty much avoiding the white-board, coming to grips. Realizing the pros of moving back far outnumbered the cons when contemplating income. But man, were we getting depressed. At first, the list looked inviting. A return to familiarity. To knowing how everything works. No razor wire. Within a day's drive to all our Key West buddies. I could go to school. Teen growth opportunities...

I guess we've crossed some invisible line, rounded some curve, burnt some bridge... life looks different now. We so like living in Costa Rica. I mean, it's something, alright. Breathtaking, frustrating, hilarious, no question. There's no logical explanation. I wish I could put my finger on what has captured us so completely. Here we have a perfect reason to go "home," perfect timing, no one could fault us for going back. Turns out we'd rather eat monkey brains. Going back? Not doable unless there is flat out no other option. Erasing that pro/con list was SUCH a relief.

So we've filled three more white boards with Os&Is. And cartoon stick figures... Narrowing the field, we've been shopping biz for sale sites, calling, writing, negotiating. Owning a business in the U.S. would still be OK, as long as we didn't have to live there. Ruminating on all this, when, last week, out of the blue, a madcap millionaire inventor we just met wants Hal to do a business with him. Then the MMI's abogado [ah-bow-GAH-doe, attorney] invited Hal to participate in another business idea... both of which could work out. That's sure hopeful. Meeting with both in the next two weeks... hmmm.

So that's where I've been. Sorry to have dropped out of sight... I can't do two things at once. The reality of Must Have Income Now overtook us and I couldn't focus on anything else. But I'm back, and no longer panicked. Three days around Arenal, in the rainforest, driving over mountains, that puts things in perspective!

That we will come up with something, there is no doubt. They say the best indicator of what a person will do is what they've always done. We've always done fine. Personally, I'd like something pretty and fun. That we can do in Costa Rica. If you could send up a little prayer or white light, however you do it, that would be so lovely. I mean, do you really want to read a blog about life in Gainesville?

Knee-Jerk Reactions

Jacqueline's pistol-whipping break-in, along with everything else I wrote about yesterday, is upsetting our apple cart. Not to mention today's A.M. Costa Rica article about how the I.R.S. is "helping" Costa Rica redefine it's income tax laws. Because, you know, the U.S. is the expert when it comes to owning its citizens. Apparently, Costa Rica sees this as a good thing.

Back in the discussion of the surprise dollar devaluation against the colón, I totally skipped reporting on the inflation rate. El pais [pie-EESE, country] says it's 10%. My pocketbook - and those of other expats - say it's at least 20%. More like 25%. So the $3K/month we live on now will be $3,600 next year. We have yet to find a savings account offering 20%. It's not just me whining. Pensionados living on fixed incomes as well as plenty of other expats are concerned by these facts.

We love Costa Rica, we love our life here, the quality of which is still better than in the U.S. To stay, we'll justify almost anything. Money is not the biggest concern. We have to earn a living. If we can't do it here or an opportunity drives us somewhere else, well, we'll just have to deal with that. But earning a living is like the Cost of Doing Business factor. A fact of life, not an emotional breaking point.

The pistol-whipping break-in of a neighbor and friend is an emotional breaking point. Look at your kids and your old mom and your three goofy dogs and justify that.

I guess my Costa Rica pink cloud phase is over. This particular event has definitely turned our thinking upside-down, if only for the moment. So much so that Hal and I just tippy-toed around The Discussion. You know, the one about moving.

We HATE to see the violence take this turn. If we stay in this house, we need cameras, more plastic roofing material to block anyone seeing into our yard - which has the added benefit of looking Trailer Trashy enough so we don't look really rich, and getting automatic combination locks installed on our doors. We can do all these things and not feel anymore fortress-y than we do now. Our house is VERY secure; J's was not... I could have broken into J's house.

But that's not really the point. We don't mind living in The Fortress. We just don't want to have to defend it...

Our options are to 1) stay here; 2) move out of Escazú to a less-gringo rich area; 3) move to another country; 4) return to the states. Everything has a price. What are we willing to pay - in dollars, sanity, personal safety - in exchange for the best quality of life for our family?

Moving back to the states would make earning a living much easier, just logistics-wise, if nothing else. The U.S. is still familiar territory; until you've experienced culture shock, you won't understand how deeply those ties bind and pull, especially when something scary happens in your foreign home. Still, we are not so naive as to believe if we moved from Costa Rica to Gainesville, we would not seriously doubt our sanity.

A new country is out for now. For starters, starting over would be hell. And expensive. The learning curve is tremendous. Even if English or Spanish were the native tongue, conquering a new land might be fun in a few years, but not yet. Besides: we aren't done here.

Moving out of Escazú is a real possibility. I am definitely going to explore that. As long as my maid will come with me.

And Costa Rica, for all those negatives I mentioned, is still a magically beautiful place peopled by interesting, peaceful... people. I'll bet actual money those robbers were not ticos. If we ran away, we'd be very, very sad.

Honestly, most of my disappointments are brought on by my First World expectations. There are still no mass shootings in malls, schools and churches here. Because SSRIs are not prescribed like candy. It's a fact that the world is more dangerous everywhere. No IRS here. Yet. We don't own property so tax hikes don't affect us.

So... still here. Today. Not taking this lightly at all. Just working to avoid knee jerk reactions while evaluating options and the paying of prices. In the meantime, I'm installing cameras, changing locks. And expanding the Trailer Trash look into the back yard. I am from KY after all. This will make me feel right at home.

Gotcha Day Glitch

In the adoption world, Gotcha Day is the day we gotcha, the day we brought our new baby home. I get all teary remembering our two Gotcha Days. Yesterday, December 10th was Mo's 16th Gotcha Day. To celebrate, Jen made cookies and brought them over. Hey, Jen, we ate every single one immediately, every delicious morsel!!!!

Serendipitously, yesterday was also Gotcha Day to pick up our cedulas [SAY-do-lahce, Costa Rica's ID cards]. The cedulas that confirm our legal status as rentistas. We've had the appointment for weeks now: 9am at the Immigration Assistant Service's (IAS and not its real name) office. We were told to come a little early.

If you've ever owned a business, you've had the Customer For Whom You Can Do Nothing Right (CFWYCDNR). It's a nightmare situation: no matter how many times you've done a thing, for this customer that thing is always totally screwed up. The simplest thing will never go right. It's uncanny. Ridiculous. If you've ever owned a business, you are shaking your head in recognition.

We are IAS' CFWYCDNR. Everything we've done with them has been difficult, fraught with ill-will and screwed up. The difference between you and me and IAS is that IAS doesn't attempt to make it right. In fact, IAS makes it clear we are the CFH: Customer From Hell. Even though we are paying CFHs. I'm like totally sick of this attitude. For instance.

We arrived at the office at 8:30am. We told the receptionist why we were there. She made a call, told us the attorney would be in shortly. Great. We sat.

During the hour we waited, two employees chatted us up as they passed by, congratulating us on gettin' legal. El Presidente of IAS, who I've met and had lunch with, rushed by us several times without saying hello or nodding in our direction. I thought that was pretty rude, but what do I really care? Nada. I mention it so you know it's not like people didn't know we were waiting. And waiting and waiting. About which I did care.

By 9:30, we'd waited long enough. We got up, asked the receptionist to please reschedule the appointment and left the building. Serendipitously, our ex-attorney was walking up as we were walking out. We get a questioning look.

I said, "We've been waiting an hour...."

He interrupts me: "Your appointment was at 8am."

Me: "I was told 9."

Attorney: "It was at 8." Not, "Oh, gee, we've had a miscommunication, so sorry you've been waiting all this time, someone should have called me, let's get you down there, yada yada yada..." None of that. Just: "Your appointment was at 8."

I asked why no one called us? How could we have sat there in the waiting room for an hour and no one thought to call the attorney? Are all expats this late? Apparently the assistant had been down at migración holding our place in line since 7:30am... Didn't he wonder why we hadn't shown up? Why didn't he call? This is met with a shrug. This attorney is not accepting any responsibility. Our appointment was at 8 and we were late. Our problem. End of story.

You know, our dentist calls us the day before dental appointments to remind us. She speaks no English, yet we've never missed an appointment or gotten the time wrong.

In fact, December 10th was actually our second cedula appointment. Our first appointment last September slid by without us even being notified. I was perfectly lovely about it then. I am not lovely now.

Since the assistant was already there, we decided to go to migración. The attorney says great, expect to be there between one and six hours. We stare back in stunned silence. SIX hours? As in SEIS? We get a nod yes, no smile.

You know, it would have been nice to know that in preparing for the day... but, ok. This is Costa Rican bureaucracy; to expect anything less would be madness on our part. We remind ourselves inefficiency is part of the reason we love it here and head to the car.

The attorney stops us and asks if we've forked over paid the $1,300 migración holds for plane fare in case you get deported. We said yes. El Presidente is with us by now and says no, that is never paid up front. Since we do not have our receipts with us and IAS does not have a record of this payment on file, there is nothing to do but reschedule and leave. Completely annoyed.

This payment SNAFU happened before with IAS. When we first signed up, back in February '06, we paid 1/2 the IAS fee in cash. BIG MISTAKE, but we didn't have debit cards yet and were still carrying around wads of cash. Hal and I both clearly remember counting out the cash. But in the early days of our adventure, we must've lost the receipt. IAS, who still handles their receipts the sweet old-fashioned hand-printed carbon-copy triplicate way, did not find a receipt either. With no other choice, we paid that first half again. I mean, they'd already submitted the mounds of paperwork to migración...

And here we are again, distinctly remembering paying - with a credit card - the deportation deposit, and IAS doesn't have a record of it. We'll have to go home and sift through our drawer full of receipts to find the proof.

But not today. Maybe not ever. We are completely over this kind of service.

You know, maybe we haven't paid that deportation fee yet, even though we both remember doing so. Maybe we were just told about it. Every time we went to the office to take care of some paperwork, we were informed of a new fee, a new law, a new requirement. This is not their "fault" of course. Hey, maybe we really are old and confused. Hal could be.

The thing is, I'm a paying customer in a new country with a new language hiring the very people who promised to help smooth the way. Instead, I get stonewalled, taken advantage of, haphazardly helped, then blamed when things don't go as planned. Who needs that?

But, whatever! I'm looking on the bright side: it was a Gotcha Day and nothing can ruin a Gotcha Day

Surviving A Hormone Bath

We have just had the loveliest day and I wanted to write about it before I fall into bed after being up all night. Mo had a birthday party/sleepover last night to celebrate his 16th birthday. There were seven teens here: Mo and Ryan, four girls and another boy. At around 9pm, three of the girls went home for the night; Maya and Dennis spent the night.

Logistics make co-ed sleepovers the logical choice. Almost everyone lives at least an hour away, so coming back and forth to a four hour party - particularly a nighttime party - was just out of the question. Everyone was invited to arrive at 4pm, spend the night and we'd have brunch for the parent pick-up Sunday morning. Party for them, party for us... perfect!

For sleeping arrangements, I had planned for Myra to sleep in Mom's room. The kids told me in no uncertain terms ["No."] they were having none of that. OK. It's not like any of them were dating... I know all four of them. What was I going to say? "I don't trust you, you'll have to sleep separately." I wasn't going to get away with that. Besides, I do trust them. So we loaded mattresses downstairs to the living room and they all slept in there. "Slept" being pretty much a figure of speech.

I patrolled every couple of hours, but when I'd tiptoe down to spy, they were always just watching movies, laughing and talking... I finally went to bed at 3am, woke up at 5:30, ran down to make sure there was no mattress sharing (although you can't tell by looking, I was a teenager once.) Myra and Mo were talking still, Ryan and Dennis sleeping. M&M swore they'd slept, but I don't think so... I went back to bed. When I came down at 8, they were all asleep.

Between 11:30 and 1pm, two of the girls who hadn't stayed over came back for brunch. Three sets of parents arrived. We hung out, ate, drank coffee. One of the dads and most of the kids hung out till early afternoon, playing chess, ping pong, playing with the dogs, chatting.

Around 4pm, when everyone had gone, we watched The Pink Panther with Steve Martin. Even though this is the third time we've seen it, we laughed and laughed. Stupid slapstick - only Steve Martin can make a grown-up laugh at a fart joke.

The oddly note-worthy thing about today is that it has been so normal. This has been our first really normal Sunday. Having people over, hanging out with friends, having the boys' friends over. These are all people we have known for awhile and hung out with before - this wasn't one of the many awkward first-time-getting-to-know-you get-togethers, which is how most of ours have been. This was having actual known quantities over to break a little bread. Like we have a life here. Like we belong. That feeling is very, very nice and something we have definitely missed.

And, whaddya know, there are fireworks to celebrate the end of such a nice day! I'm telling you: they do it up big here. These are not backyard fireworks by any means. These are like 4th of July fireworks that a small town will save up all year to do. And we get them every single night! Sometimes more than one. Already tonight, we've had two huge amazing displays in different parts of the city. And it's early yet. But if there are more, I will miss them. I'm going to bed!

Wrong Question

This morning, I had to admit to Hal that my homesickness has ratcheted up a notch lately. A big notch. So much so that, in my mind, I unconsciously find myself adding "when we go back" to the end of my thoughts. Unconsciously, until this morning when I heard my thoughts loud and clear. It stopped me in my tracks. Why was my mind going there? Why am I so homesick all of a sudden?

Consciously, I don't want to go back. Our lives are good here. We are comfortable, we know people, we get around, we love the country, the adventure. The language is even manageable. We are certainly as comfortable as anyone could be after such a short time in a new country, learning a new language, having left behind "x" number of years of familiarity. TTTT.*

Two years is the common turnaround time for expats who go back and we are fast approaching two years. No comments from the peanut gallery, Mr. Jones. But is there some catharsis that does or doesn't happen at the two year mark?

Sandford, my Key West mentor for 18 years, taught me a couple of things. Like the notion of displacement of effective stress: like yelling at the boys when I'm upset over a work situation or really mad at Hal. Like, it is darkest before the dawn. Confusing situations are most confusing just before clarity. Discomfort is most intense just before the seas calm. I've noticed that if I just hang in there long enough without quitting or running away, the answer comes. I'm going to assume this intense homesickness a) is not what it seems and b) will resolve. There is a light at the end of this tunnel. Maybe it's lighting up a path back to the states... I have to be open to that possibility. But I can't run back because I'm homesick. That would just be too embarrassing. Too weak. Heck, I'm no quitter.

But I'm looking for resolution. I can feel this anxiety in my body. That can't be good.

I had a dream a few nights ago. We had moved back to Key West and had done it very quickly. Sort of like how we moved here. I don't remember what precipitated the move, but we were in an empty rented house in Key West. It was really HOT and we were sweating. The house was your basic ranch style 1100sf three bedroom 1 bath center hallway CBS** with older yellow carpeting.

As I walked around this house in my dream, there was no strong emotion, just a pleasant familiarity, relief from the anxiety of "new" which I guess I still feel here more than I care to admit. My dream house was perfectly livable, but definitely the Key West house we would now be able to afford instead of the spacious, newly renovated Key West house with a pool we'd left behind.

As I walked, those nice feelings of familiarity evolved into feeling disoriented, then an overwhelming homesickness for this house, our Costa Rica home: the light, the view, the space. The feelings of accomplishment and security I have when I'm here. Of relief because we escaped to a friendlier place. I thought, "Oh my God, what have we done?" Probably the thought most of our friends had when we left Key West... In my dream, I was so confused, very sad, so much that I started crying which woke me up.

Ok, so I'm a little conflicted. Emotions are messy, illogical and unpredictable. There's a saying: feelings are not facts. Good thing. Feelings are just clues so you know to look for the effective stress hiding underneath. As far as actually going back...

Politically, we can't imagine going back unless Ron Paul were to win, which, as Pollyanna as I can be, just seems unlikely. Until last week, I was pretty certain it was gonna be Hillary which will make Mom happy, but I'm in the ABH camp. A Clinton in the White House will be more expensive and destructive for our economy than even we can imagine. Sadly, I don't believe Obama or Giuliani will be any better. Happily, there's still a year of promises to go before Decision 2008. What fun.

Financially, going back to Key West right now is out of the question. Cost of living is just too high. We'd be flat broke in six months with the same money that will give us almost two more years here.

Earning a living there that will allow us an equivalent quality of the life to the one we enjoy here seems unlikely, even in Key West where I still have a business and contacts. My small property management business there is good, expanding, even with me here. But the real estate sales business is costly to be in and sales are way, way down. Key West is out, for now.

Then there's the weather. I don't know if we could live in Florida heat again. Especially when we enjoy perfect weather here: no ac, no heat, with our choice of cold mountain or sweltering beach within two hours' drive.

So if we moved back to the states, we'd have to move to a new city, probably in central Florida. No language barrier, but we'd be going through the whole New Surroundings thing, culture shock of a different ilk, all over again. We just got through this one!!! Plus starting a business in a completely new place... oy vey. We are doing that here... what advantage is there to moving to yet another new locale?

Besides, it's my friends and familiarity I miss, not the U.S. So moving anywhere but Key West still leaves me homesick. Logically, there's no comfort to be found going back. So... what's the effective stress???

Leave it to Hal, my accidental therapist. When I told him all about my homesickness, wondering if he felt the same, he laughed out loud. He said, "You just say that because we don't have an income. Let's keep working on the income. Then the question we'll be asking is, 'Where do we go next?'"

Whoa. There it is. I've been asking the wrong question. See why I married him? You know, I always go back to safe. Hal never does. The "where do we go next" question completely eluded me. If the answer turns out to be "back to the U.S.," I can live with that. I'd just like to be driven forward by hope and possibility rather than driven back by anxiety and fear. If Hal can do it, I can learn to. There's something useful to teach the boys!

*TTTT = Chat room talk for "these things take time."
**CBS = Concrete Block Structure

Or Maybe...

I just need more to do, idle hands and all that. Maybe if I were busier, I wouldn't have time to sit around examining my navel. I wouldn't hear the what because maybe there is no what. Maybe I'm just making it all up for Something Important to do.

Speaking of which, there are two more to dos on the list I neglected to mention:

1) Tamara, Margaret, two women I met through Helping Hands Costa Rica (HHCR), and I worked with Gail Nystrom, truly an angel to the poor here in Costa Rica, to help the women of La Promesa [la pro-MAY-sah] sell their crafts at The Newcomer's Club bazaar last Saturday and at the Women's Club fair coming up on the 10th of November.

La Promesa is a very poor neighborhood created by the Costa Rican government for (mostly) women escaping abusive relationships. In her efforts to help them be self-sufficient, Gail arranged for these women to learn crafts - beading with seeds, wood, plastics - and they churn them out. They are simple and beautiful - I'll post photos from the Women's Club.

The women also put together an educational/entertainment day at La Promesa. For $10, you go for a tour, a short talk, a native dance by the children in costumes made by the women, lunch, then shopping for crafts. Mom went last time and loved it. (Have I mentioned she loves everything?)

Unfortunately, the Newcomer's bazaar was very poorly attended. I don't think anyone sold anything - and there are some beautiful artisans here, local and expat - to anyone who wasn't also a presenter! Hopefully the Women's Club will be better attended.

2) Evangeline and I are speaking at the International Living conference next week being held at the oh-so-fabulous-and-swanky Los Sueños Resort in Jacó. That will be VERY fun. An audience and applause. What's not to like?

Evangeline, as founder and head of HHCR, is speaking about volunteer opportunities. I am speaking about life as an expat, what it's like, what happened, culture shock - the whole nine yards. Basically the blog on stage. The only topic I'll skip is real estate. As might be expected, they have TONS of real estate people talking there. It is, after all, geared toward people moving to Costa Rica!

And I will, of course, be pushing my book*... I swear, it's coming. Turns out writing the damn thing is the easy part!!!

E & I are putting together Power Point Presentations for both talks. Really exciting. After it's over, E will have a presentation ready-to-go for talking about Helping Hands locally, like at the Women's and Newcomer's Club, the Rotary Club - all those clubs.

And I'll have a presentation all ready for when I'm on Oprah. You know, on the book tour. No time for examining my navel today. Back to the book!

*Advice From A Broad: The First 100 Things You Need To Know About Coming To Costa Rica. Catchy title, eh?