You may be an ex-pat living in southern Costa Rica if... Part IV

You pass an average of 15 people hawking fruit that looks and feels like colored testicles anywhere you go

You no longer take for granted safe roads, beef, ac, drainage, hot water, utilities, healthcare…

You now listen to hunches because not doing so may cost you your life or the cash equivalent to your highest annual salary

You buy your meds one pill at a time

You have new appreciation for immigrants

Your pillow, bed and clothing feels like they were taken out of the dryer 40 min early

You still can’t figure out how to say “for rent” in Spanish

You learn to use your children to get through traffic stops, bank lines, customs....

Acquiring a rather common item you used to buy on the way home from work now requires ebay, UPS, a friend in the states, Delta, a courier and a taxi

You never paid so much for bloomed crappy chocolate that tastes so bad but feels so good, kinda

Rain, now a daily occurrence, may cause you entire schedule to be changed, canceled or abandoned

You drive slower, not due to traffic tickets, but because the road ahead may disappear at any time

A successful outing  may be judged by the sum of  expected new mosquito bites  divided by volume of new bites times existing bites :    {ENb/Nb}*Eb

Every day you see an amazing new bug, plant and butterfly that science has yet to discover

The word “botfly” is spoken in hushed conversations, away from children, off to the side… never  with those whom love you back home and, if questioned by family, you pretend not to know much about them

You have nearly killed half a dozen motor cyclists in the past month alone driving at night, without lights wearing black in the rain

“the border” is no longer  a fence to keep others out, it is an ethereal place where your future hangs in the balance, your own Mecca; you seek renewal and a glance of approval

You may be an ex-pat living in southern Costa Rica if... Part III

You give barely a glance of interest now to life threatening insects in your house
You haven’t see dentists, insurance agents, bankers, doctors, or the like for longer than you remember
You drive and own vehicles you would never have considered before moving here, none the less pay $ for
Nothing is anti-theft
Postal what?
You swear much more than you used to
Buying some screws in the hardware store involves more people than were in front of you at the bank
The only smell you are accustomed to more than fried banana is mildew
Ants are no longer considered worth mentioning even when crawling on your own clothes
In the last 7 days you have consumed more varieties of fruit than you ever dreamed existed
“lock the car” used to mean securing the doors but now involves removing any non-fixed item
You allow your kids to play on things that look like remains from WWII German bombings
Creatures you used to only see in horror films now live in your own house and you really don’t care
Your yard at night sounds like a car alarm
Putting your vehicle in four wheel drive is a daily event instead of something you once did near Tahoe
You don’t know the day of the week, none the less the date, nor does anyone else for that matter
You used to wish to be “taller”, now you wish you never saw those letters
“banking” is an calendared event
Making a left turn while using your signal is a life threatening event
You eat breakfast with exotic birds
Hot water is now considered optional
" behind bars "  no longer carries a negative stigma and actually feels comforting

You may be an ex-pat living in southern Costa Rica if... Part II

Having a simple conversation by cell phone includes 2 disconnects and a wrong number

The last time you had 5 bars of internet that actually worked you were in a neighboring country

Included in your daily contact “social circle” is your auto mechanic

You still have no idea how fast 60km is

You know your attorneys number better than your own

One of your daily duties is cleaning frog crap from your porch

Your days activities end at 6pm and staying out late is after 730

Your budget includes considerable monthly sums for auto repair

You got rid of your alarm clock thanks to howler monkeys

Your business has been fully open for months despite no signage, address,  insurance…

Your conversations with local friends are closer to therapy sessions than to social gatherings

You make quarterly prayers for the numbers 90 to be added to your passport stamps

You choose bugspray for effectiveness and overall perfume smell as you wear it with greater frequency and volume than deodorant, perfume, makeup and clothing

Your address sounds like a description of where the dog ran away to

You use “manana” to describe tomorrow, everyone else uses it to describe distant future events

You don’t remember what cheese tastes like

You use “pura vida” as a friendly greeting, expression of joy, resignation  and an expletive   

You may be an ex-pat living in southern Costa Rica if... Part I

YOU MAY BE AN EXPAT  LIVING IN CR IF…………….

You judge the need to wash clothes by stench, disregarding days worn or volume of stains

Your day is considered a huge success when you get one thing accomplished

You drive from your house fully expecting to be pulled over and/or ticketed

The $20 in your wallet is earmarked for bribes

Your laptop is “put away” only when it is hidden in with your dirty laundry, on your person or in a safe

You are soaked with sweat by 8am after taking out the trash

Your ‘bare essentials’ include keys, phone, passport, colones, hat, bugspray, sunscreen and a 3ft machete

Taking a stroll in the yard requires knee boots and a knife longer than your arm

“Going into town” may be an all-day event

You fully expect to several wait weeks for the successful arrival of a repair man, cable guy or any similar tech

You fully expect several visits by the repair tech over the course of a month before your issue is truly done, only to find the "repair" broke 2 more things

You are shocked, giddy and feel like having a party when something actually goes according to plan

Your monthly food bill is more than rent

Your fried food consumption is only surpassed by pineapples and mangos

You plan your daily activities based off of which utility you expect to lose first

Sweat dripped on the keyboard as you read this

Taller ("garage")

I have been writing blog posts... just doo depressing to put in here, the last month has been the most difficult of they year.  4 1/2 weeks ago a seal on our cooling system in our vehicle blew, causing the coolant to abruptly leave the motor... nothing looked out of the ordinary, we drove down the mountain and the truck started to act funny.  I checked fluids, though not coolant since it was a warm motor, but the overflow looked fine, little did I know that I would cook my motor in the next few miles while the temperature sensor read "all is well".  Now a month later we have been waiting to wrap up the repair and sale of our vehicle.  We have had about every possible set back and had we known it would be 4 weeks we would have left an came back, instead we have been waiting while the string of 3 and 4 day delays turns into weeks on end.  In a few hours I will pack the car and begin our drive north to eventually fly out of CR with a vehicle still sitting in the shop. Crazy days these are.
I guess this would not be an outstanding event if it were not highlighted by the vehicles of our friends also having major issues, break downs and outright problems... someone threw a wrench at the car god and thing have been unseasonable weird here.  A funny one, in hind sight, is mu friend Dave taking his Trooper in for a problem starting it.  After replacing the alternator, the battery and a few other parts it is determined that it is a STARTER problem.  It would still start, just it took a few times.  The shop came out, told him they tested the starter and it is on order, come back in a week or so. They push started his car, gave it to him and he drove home, only to find they had never replaced the starter that was still partially functional.
Or then there is Rocky, who saw brakes getting finished up, he pointed out to the mechanic that a tensioner spring had been forgotten, it was still sitting on the floor next to the wheel.  The mechanic looked at it, smiled and tossed it over his shoulder into a heap of parts.
Now why would our vehicles be breaking down, I wonder....

Skin

Skin

Who would have thought that skin color determines so much of life… I guess every adult learns the lessons of life but these are not things we think of much as kids.  Having an African American daughter has made me very aware of the issues for better and worse regarding skin color that I overlooked being white in a white bubble.  Costa Rica has been an interesting thing to this regard… I don’t know if it is a good thing or not but people of all ages here fall over themselves to tell Audrey how beautiful she is.  I used to attempt to keep them from touching her, her braids, her skin… until it was impossible, it is a cultural thing.  From young boys of 7 to old men of 90 to young teen girls to the aged grandmothers and all in between Audrey is someone they notice, pour over, smile and wave at, take pictures of and merely adore.  We talk about it, she doesn’t like it all too much, though she is used to the stardom.  I lay awake and think about what does that look like from her eyes, what does that mean, if anything, to her… I am grateful for the definite positive tone, it certainly would be horrible were the same attention paid in a negative way.  It causes me to wonder why I am a white man with US citizenship, good education and functioning body in this world that hold all of those things in high regard, why did I win the ovarian lottery. What would I be like if I were constantly ridiculed for how I looked, how I walked or did not.  I certainly can say I hold animosity every time I check out at a store and know I have been overcharge because I am a gringo, which is more common than not.  There is a small red button in the lower right of the cash register that adds 18 to 80% to every transaction made by a gringo  (I have not seen this button but there is most certainly evidence of its existence, at least in their minds)  I think often of the millions of African Americans and other races that have, for hundreds of years, seen far more injustice for the color of their skin than what I have experienced and learned to be silent about it, compliant, even polite and loving… would I? I fear not.  What would i be like were I a discriminated minority?  I do feel pretty bad as some locals give the stare of hollow hate to me, whether it be from a perception of what they have been taught or if it is just hating the seemingly "rich american" or what, it does bother me.  Most ticos are very nice, some are exemplary and have become my best friends, though just as many are dark towards the guy in the red ball-cap and worn out Keens.  There is a disturbing trend where all advertisements are a fair skinned model, even if they are tico.  I have yet to see ANY tico advertisement featuring darker skinned models, though I am sure one exists.  Funny dichotomy in a country falling over themselves to adore my daughter.  I think I lack some character strength, I want to be filled with love even when hated, I hope that this experience grows my tolerance gland.  

Wet

We brought a double stroller to Costa Rica, it was our personal luggage cart in the airports and hotels, it was handy in flat beach towns for pushing around our "rice and beans" kids, Audrey and Autumn, and we actually met another couple who did the same but reported that it rusted into a pile of trash and they had to dispose of it. I thought they exaggerated a bit, or maybe they left it out in the rain or brought a really cheap Chinese knock off... nope.  They lived in the cloud forest. To give you an idea of a cloud forest you need to marry a few things in your mind, first, the weather of Seattle (as of this writing it has been raining 22 of the last 23 hours and it is not yet rainy season ) as in lot of rain and very nice temperatures, about 70 usually; mix that with the humidity you get when you cook rice in an enclosed room and everything is covered in a thin layer of moisture, then add clouds.  We are actually in clouds about 1/4 of the time. a grey ghost-like mist that rolls and envelopes the jungle like a slithering snake, bringing with it moisture that is unprecedented.  The jungle canopy shows the full foliage then retreats again into curtains of ghostly smoke.  From this dream-like trance enters real life...  Without a dryer there is no such thing as dry clothes here.  We are thankful to have access to one, however it is shared between over a dozen other people it still is a functioning dryer.  We had to move the double stroller into the house and off of the covered deck because mold was starting to overtake it.  I am sure one year out there and it would be a pile of plastic parts and moldy fabric with only hints of the metal remaining.  When I get dressed in the morning it is like putting on clothes that were removed from the dryer too early, only they weren't, they just spent the night hung up.  Mold seems not to act like I have seen it before, it is not in the corners, the dark areas, etc, here in the could forest I keep thinking that one of the kids put dirt on a wall, when I go to wipe it off, a small brown patch in the center of a wall, I realize it is a lump of mold. Very odd..  We had friends whom returned to the states for a couple of months, stored their Land-rover by the airport, returned to drive home after the long journey only to find the ENTIRE interior of the car fuzzy with mold.  My cellphone is only warranted until you expose it to humidity, meaning there is no warranty.  Even my Ipad was covered in a layer of fog on the glass the other day, making the picture on the cover look like the view out my window...  living up here though has been awesome.  I love the cloud forest; sleeping to the sound of rain, the temperature, the rapidly changing views that nature provides nearly in a continual movement, the 1000 hues of green from black forest to brilliant neon that we have mistaken for spray-paint on more than one occasion.   At night the little girls go to bed saying "good night jungle, good night clouds, good night.......  The journey continues.

Spoiled

Inspection
Every year all legal vehicles get inspected in Costa Rica, this is called Retive, this is also called "one full day per year".  In a first world country it would never fly to need to take time off from work for a car inspection, but here is blends into the backdrop of the rotunda of holidays, this however is your own holiday with your car.  The special day depends upon your plate number and determines what month you get to do Retive. If you miss it your vehicle is illegal and the only legal way to get it to inspection then is to hire a tow truck, I am not kidding.  There are no options for a 'one day pass' so you can drive it there and since the stations are few and far between driving it with risk of merciless impound brings a whole new angle to the puzzle.  For me it was a mere hour and fifty minutes to the nearest Retive station, one direction. You must make an appointment in advance, the tell you when to come and get 
In line.  During my commute to Retive my headlight went out, which i realized once in the parking lot and 10 min until my appointment, I chose to keep the appointment betting that I could explain it and pass and fix it later since otherwise my vehicle was safer than 95%of what I saw on the road here.  No dice.  They are very thorough here, checking far more things and to a greater extent than i have ever seen done in the states... A funny dichotomy considering the pathetic condition of most of the cars driving around me not to mention the litany of Moros with no lights driving at night. I wonder how the pass, seriously, because there are many traffic stops around that demand proper vehicle papers and impound the poor schmucks that leave it home. Retive was indeed an 8 hour process including barely passing the second time as the inspector became fixated on figuring out if my headlights were aimed too high in the air (no joke here, he seriously tried not to pass me for this while i am surrounded by vehicles held together with bailing twine and sheetmetal) in the end I did pass, got my sticker and green lights me for 12 more months of traffic stops.

Inspection

Inspection
Every year all legal vehicles get inspected in Costa Rica, this is called Retive, this is also called "one full day per year".  In a first world country it would never fly to need to take time off from work for a car inspection, but here is blends into the backdrop of the rotunda of holidays, this however is your own holiday with your car.  The special day depends upon your plate number and determines what month you get to do Retive. If you miss it your vehicle is illegal and the only legal way to get it to inspection then is to hire a tow truck, I am not kidding.  There are no options for a 'one day pass' so you can drive it there and since the stations are few and far between driving it with risk of merciless impound brings a whole new angle to the puzzle.  For me it was a mere hour and fifty minutes to the nearest Retive station, one direction. You must make an appointment in advance, the tell you when to come and get 
In line.  During my commute to Retive my headlight went out, which i realized once in the parking lot and 10 min until my appointment, I chose to keep the appointment betting that I could explain it and pass and fix it later since otherwise my vehicle was safer than 95%of what I saw on the road here.  No dice.  They are very thorough here, checking far more things and to a greater extent than i have ever seen done in the states... A funny dichotomy considering the pathetic condition of most of the cars driving around me not to mention the litany of Moros with no lights driving at night. I wonder how the pass, seriously, because there are many traffic stops around that demand proper vehicle papers and impound the poor schmucks that leave it home. Retive was indeed an 8 hour process including barely passing the second time as the inspector became fixated on figuring out if my headlights were aimed too high in the air (no joke here, he seriously tried not to pass me for this while i am surrounded by vehicles held together with bailing twine and sheetmetal) in the end I did pass, got my sticker and green lights me for 12 more months of traffic stops.

5 people

5 people 
The Costa Rican culture deserves a bit of space here as there are a few fascinating things we have seen.  i will start with some background.  Picture if you will a world where nothing ever really changes as far as the weather, you can live out your life under a thatched hut if you wish as the temperature, on a whole, is 70 to 90 degrees F all year.  The land provides so many sources of food that you can actually subsist in the rural area by eating from the trees, plants, etc. If you really needed to.  Winter never comes. Drought never happens and basically no need to plan ahead exists.  Layer on top of that a sense that there are few 
Mortal enemies to the country as a whole, a Switzerland of the Americas... Giving rise to not a whole to lot need for outsmarting enemies, creatively scheming but instead giving rise to a culture with no military, a nearly nonfunctional police force and nonexistent coastguard.  adding to this nonchalance is then topped with a GDP of tourism and coffee.  Now let's get into daily life...   
Costa Ricans will avoid conflict like the plague, we have witnessed first hand and heard many tales of workers leaving a job over minor confrontation.  The genesis of confrontation is not far away as the culture also dictates that if you ask a question 90% of the time they will give you an answer.  It doesn't matter if they actually know the answer or not, they want to be seen as knowing things and do not want to disappoint you so they just make up answers that may be true. When you are needing directions this is particularly interesting as we have the 5 person rule now, it takes asking 5 people to get to your destination.  They will even tell you firmly with exactness exactly where to go as if it is their own house when truly, they have no idea at all.  Time is also relative, truly the word "tomorrow" ( manana) translates to tomorrow, but means some day after today.  If the promised deed is not done within 2 days you must begin a type of personal coaching,  

Cloud forest

Cloud forest

After several months in the beach town of Uvita my eyes got all moist as the truck pulled out onto the costal highway to make the move to the cloud forest.  I wiped those sweat drops and drove south for half an hour.  It was 9 pm, I had been packing most afternoon and this was the second trip, I was soaked from a mix of sweat and rain water as it had been raining for the last 6 hours lightly.  Audrey had been my sidekick on this second trip and had fallen asleep upon contact with her car-seat after an afternoon of helping dad and playing with the scattered remains that get left behind when moving.  I said a prayer of gratitude for Anna, our cleaner, in whom I have complete confidence... She also cared at times for the kiddos and we will truly miss her. I turned off the costal highway  after 30 minutes and carefully and started the climb... 7km of dirt road lay ahead that nestle us up and away from traffic, theft, mosquitoes, heat and the grocery store. The clouds had rolled in as the Isuzu scratched and clawed slowly up the steep inclined road which by US standards would never be allowed to be built, clearly  near or above 30 degrees inclined in places.  We will spend the next 6 weeks here, at OSA Mountain Village at about 2000 ft elevation and a little slice of heaven. As I unpacked the rain increased, the last five loads were cut short at two and left for morning as the clouds opened up a deluge... A downpour that continued until about 2am at which point it rained even harder for another hour.  The hustle and bustle of beach town life that never really stops was replaced by rain, the hum of crickets, insects, chirping of tree frogs, and a melodious silence.  We have been here a week now and that silence has been both welcomed and not.  The cell phones occasionally work here, not in the house, but 100 or 200m up the hill, the Internet is spotty on the corner of the deck but does exist, thank goodness.  The temperature is chilly at night, the days are temperate with the clouds rolling in for afternoons and looking like a day at the bay in San Francisco.  We are clearly deeper in the jungle, the foliage in impenetrable unless cleared, and the sounds of the jungle are enveloping.  We watched Earth, the DVD about animals and earth climates and saw some views that could have been shot from our deck or bedroom windows... The adventure continues.

No electricity

No electricity
Last week an arrangement was made for the school that our girls attend to arrange for a meeting with members of one of the indigenous tribes that live in the south here.  The tribe, the guyami, are the original inhabitants of this area and have a distinct Indian look. The tribe members wanted to come to the school and visit so lthey met at the school and brought some handmade wares and dressed up for the occasion.  This sounds like a typical meeting of a few cultures and was, but what was most striking was that some members of this tribe had never before left the mountain, an altaplano area where they live, a few hour walk from the end of the dirt road that is the closest access to the area.  These group members had never seen electricity, they had never seen a cell phone and have huge culture shock... Funny since they were in culture shock coming to Uvita, I was in culture shock coming to Uvita as well only for the opposite reason.   
We are visiting Escazu, a suburb of San Jose basically, that has a striking range from the most affluent to the poorest slum-like areas we have seen here.  Poor squatters and farmers are one thing, usually happy and living in a home-made shanty drinking coconuts and eating of the land, these metro pockets of slum are tucked in a few hundred meters off of the main access to palatial homes and are were very reminiscent in several ways to me of Kibera, a massive slum I visited in Kenya.  There is something different about the faces of the adults in these areas that i hope to be able to capture some day on film.  I wish i had time and connections allowing me to interview the inhabitants as i did in Kenya, as it was a fascinating window into the lives of the poorest of the poor and only fills me with more vigor to spend the bulk of the rest of my life in a venture such as micro finance.  Amy and I share a passion therein.
A few quick stats that I must share about all of this since we are on the topic... About 1/3 of the world population lies on $2 per day or less, something that those whom have never been able to leave US soil have no point of reference for. The Kibiera slum houses about 1.1 to 1.2million people in an area roughly 2-3 square miles, no typo there. There is on toilet for every 40,000 residents, extremely few have electricity and there is no indoor plumbing and no water provided.  The average dwelling is 10x10 and houses 6 to 15 persons and rent is $32 per month.  

more on culture

There are a couple things that I wanted to write about that have been interesting cultural differences.  

meds

As we drive south from our house on the costal highway we pass a variety of small eateries that sell fried fish, ceviche (a delicious raw fish salsa of sorts) and a variety of veggie stands... one stands out as the sign reads a full list of the types of fish for sale followed by viagra....  just in case the red-snapper didn't do it for you...
You don't go to a doctor to get prescriptions south of the border, you can, or you can buy them self prescribed at the pharmacy. Pharmacists are schooled however there seems to be discrepancy in levels of education for medications and the bare minimum is the bar.  We have a Tico friend who is a pharmacist and he said that he didn't seel like he knew enough to work at teh hospital so he worked at a local pharmacy... good to know. When you buy a medication they ask you how many, as in how many pills, where upon you serve yourself to the open package and pay per pill.

hazards

Last night we had a few expat friends over for dinner and we were talking about the road hazards.  This is truly a fend-for-yourself culture as is most of the southern hemisphere, only in north american and europe are there well marked pitfalls it seems.  It is not uncommon here to drive along and find your lane in the road to have been washed away leaving a gaping hole that would swallow a bus into a dropoff of over 50feet.  There are markers in advance though, no worries... sometimes a small reflective roadsign  in the pave 6 feet in away so you have time to stop as night, or my favorite, north of Montezuma, marking a 3ft wide 6ft home in the middle of my lane was a stick, about 4 feet out of the hole and as wide as a broom stick with half of a white plastic bag stuck on the end.  you also see these in the sidewalks where, without warning there will be an abrupt drop-off into an 8ft pit for some street work. 
I drove the canyon with the washed out sections the other day and yes, there were 2 sections where the markers had been run over and were no longer visible, though not to worry, the sheared metal markers are visible during the day.

Left turn

There is an interesting driving habit here; when you want to have the driver behind you pass you, drivers will turn on the left turn signal to tell them to go around them on the LEFT. Coincidentally this is ALSO the sign for a left turn... yea, go figure.  There was a recent article talking about the accidents this causes; who'd of thought.

I have been running low on time... I can hear you already- "what? you live in the jungle, how could you be 'low on time'!?" well maybe you are right, maybe it is more motivation than time... blogging hasn't been high on my list of items, it comes just after sweeping poop off of the patio (a daily job as we have a jungle pal with an attitude and a bad nightly habit). Actually it must come lower than that because I actually HAVE been sweeping poop and I have not been blogging, sorry.
So my membership ran out, I didn't know I needed to renew it but the Fan of CR membership that helps you every time you swat mosquitoes, get ripped off or just sit in a pool of sweat expired and I got sick of the above short list as well as a longer more detailed list added thereafter.  Seriously I think I got homesick for the first time, missed my Wasatch mountains, my friends and yes, I missed snow.  I think I just heard you sneer.  I feel better now, it is not crazy hot, the mosquitoes have lessened a bit, at times, and then our power went out.
 
Saturday morning 7am I hear "POP" and look out to see a fire shooting from our electrical box, followed by smoke and the oh-so familiar smell when you leave a spatula on a burner. We had fried one of the main lines to our house... must have been my furious blogging. THANKFULLY we had a second line that kept the fridge working, a couple of rooms had light and an electrical outlet in the kitchen... I was slowly more and more thankful for that as the days passed and now, Monday afternoon, we have power again in the last 30 min.  It made me think about life before power, how dramatic it is when the sun goes down at 6 and it's DARK. Refrigeration and life without it, that is a whole article by itself. I thought I could wing it but I ended up sleeping, you guessed it, in the kitchen with a fan.
I moved to CR thinking I would alter my inner thermometer and be more 'tico' by just getting used to the heat. Granted it is only this hot by the beach, but I wanted the challenge. After a couple weeks I changed my mind... as I became hotter (a progressive slippery slope of sweat) the AC was used more and more.  My resolve to alter my inner whatever became a quest for AC, ice cold smoothies and anything under 80F. I guess it takes longer than a few months and opening the pores for me.
Church... we have been trying to go to church every week.  I knew it would be a challenge, but really? The drive to San Isidro has over 160 turns in the serpentine road (more, though I lost track between vomiting kids), causing me to clean more than my share in the car from sick kids.  The drive is 75 min and we are about to move 15 min further away.  The entire service is in spanish (no kidding) however I, in my "fluency" I struggle to understand anything since I can't concentrate as well while managing kids... my poor wife is just glazed over in a fine shellac. The two younger kids, being too young for any real classes become the job of one of us for the bulk of the meetings, or we divide and conquer reducing the experience to whatever net gain our 5 year old gets from meetings fully in spanish.  I will say I think part of the gain is the kids knowing it is important for us to go, and maybe the church attendees gain by our presence (since ours are the only kids disputing the meeting), but somehow it is not what I had pictured before. The people are VERY welcoming (a contrast to our aged congregation in SLC) and very happy we are there. I have had some experiences that tell me to keep going with this even though it is crazy, the love of God has a softening affect that imbues patience with the present.  All in all it is a 7 hour process from door to door... and yesterday took the cake.
We left 30 min early so we could stop and avoid vomiting... thought it would be good measure too.  We didn't need a break as there were areas of road being serviced that gave us a good 30 minutes of sitting, then we arrived in San Isidro and I quickly found myself having driven into a crowd of horses and riders, looked like  a festival.  Somewhere I missed a sign that said "do not enter, parade line up" and the next thing I know I am driving IN the parade of horses, band members, twirling girls and the like.  I could almost hear the "CRAZY GRINGO" thoughts as I attempted to reverse out of the situation, then, for the next 2 blocks, in reverse, without a way to turn around amidst the cowboys, onlookers, crowds and everyone else and their dog. We had stopped to give a tico girl and her baby boy a ride earlier, and she was in the back at this point, and asked me if it was usual to drive like that in reverse in traffic in the US... jokesters they are.. After we parked, crossed the procession by foot and found church, only 10 min late, we spent the next hour in the holy sacrament meeting with a parade passing on the street outside the doors, full bore drummers, trumpets and bells while the speaker at the podium gave the discourse.  I think they actually were speaking, though we heard only celebrations of Dia de los Patrones. Amy almost kept a straight face.

pics from the jungle party

Friday night we attended a party for the grand opening of Osa Mountain Village where we have a fractional ownership of a condo in the jungle.  Anyway, here are some pics of the party!

musical beds

I used to sleep like a rock... people that spent any time around me knew that when I put my head down on a pillow it was a done deal for the next 8hrs.  Then we had a child.
 I am pretty sure most parents relate when I say I don't get a great night's sleep, but since we have moved things have changed, we used to sleep okay, a bit of night time bustle, but now my nights have become part parenting, adventure race and musical chairs..  The AVERAGE night now consists of what my wife affectionately calls my "sleeping around".
Let's take last night for example....this may sound s bit crazy but this has become, much to my dismay, "average";   I laid down with Autumn (1) as she was going to bed, my head hit the pillow after a long day and I promptly fell asleep.  A few hours later Amy needed my help so I am up, and we go to sleep in the same bed (the third time in weeks)- oh no, don't let those lids drop too long there fella- not so fast, about an hour later Audrey(2) needs help as only a two year old can while going potty. I get her back to bed and fall asleep on a pile of blankets on the floor next to her only to be awakened by my hip in an hour that didn't like sleeping on cement.  I get up, return to bed only to have Ava(5) wake up with a bad dream so I go to comfort her and realize that Amy has already left our bed to join Autumn(1) who had awakened sometime during my cement slab cat nap. Ava(5) and I lay down together and promptly fall asleep- only to be awakened at 4:30 by Audrey(2) who is up and excited to get dressed and pack her backpack with snacks for school.  Despite all of my efforts to change her mind she decides that her day has begun, and so has mine.  Autumn joins us at 5am and Ava is up at 5:30.
I failed to discuss as of yet Tico(Costarican) life in this regard.  So local time for getting up IS 5am, as the bustle of motos, fourwheelers and trucks begin in town.  Somehow this early awakening time has no bearing on the time businesses begin operating, which is 9 and you get incredulous looks if you try to get a hold of people there before the opening hour, as if "what? it's way too early to (fill-in the blank: expect to get directions, find an internet cafe, a bathroom....). Tico schools begin at 6am, pretty smart as things get pretty warm by 8:30 along the coast where I doubt the schools have AC, and a 6am start allows kids to be done with school by around noon or 1pm when the world has become a baking steam sauna.
The costal temperatures are much  warmer than even a few miles inland, a heavy price you pay for quick beach access and I believe a poor trade off since the beach comes with baggage like more mosquitoes, higher prices and more traffic.  On the Osa, the southern Pacific peninsula where we live and known as "where the rain forest meets the sea", the jungle mountains rise quickly from the beach areas and give way to a dream-like cloud forest that is only really beheld in person as clouds actively envelope you and sweep through jungle and extremely steep hillsides with an average temperature of 68 degrees. It's dream like conditions and BEAUTIFUL farms and jungles are loaded with wildlife.
Gotta run, it's 1:30am and I am off to tuck in a little one and go to sleep in the third bed for the night... I will barely have time to fit in a fourth bed this time... though I wouldn't trade putting the little ones down for any possession or position in the world. sweet dreams....

moto

"lowering the bar to show improved performance" reads the title of a "demotivators" poster. I scorned it thinking that there was enough negativity in the world who needs posters, even if it is a joke.  I am now living that poster.

March 19; I ask around about buying a motorcycle, something cheap to get around on while I shop for a real vehicle for our family... since most of the autos you see for sale and look like they MAY be priced well and MAY actually be more than a new paint job (in the photos on crautos.com it is common to see everything under the hood have a new coat of "Chrome" spray paint.... the engine, wires, sparkplugs, aircleaner and anything else under the hood, all shiny shiny new silver) as interesting autos are located hundreds of kilometers in equal and opposite directions from where-ever you live.  It's a universal law.  I find a gringo fourwheeler dealer in town who seemed honest, cool and had a few options for sale.  Mind you, a motobike I wouldn't think of paying over $600 for in the states is $2000 here, but hey, it's faster than walking, the bus or hitchhiking(an entire other blog post soon to come). I take one for a drive that is able to be road licensed, has turn signals, etc.. seems to work fine.
March 21, I tell him I will buy it so long as everything remaining to be done to make it street legal is finished (mirrors and speedometer) and we call the attorney.  You need an attorney for everything you need to do here other than using the John. When purchasing a vehicle you can inherit tickets and violations, unpaid dues and other nightmares completely separate of the host of mechanical issues that can be lurking under the chrome.
March 22, the attorney says papers will take a couple days, as the title is missing.
March 24, I pay for the bike and take it home, the shop seems to want it out of their space, the seller is actually a gringo away on a trip.
March 25, I wake up to a pool the size of a XXL pizza under the moto of a grayish red liquid, a stong smell of gas and quickly realize I must have overdone it when I rode the bike 200meters to my house, it was just too much for the little guy.  Something it wrong, broken or all of the above and I suspect it stems from the fact that I bought a vehicle in Costa Rica.  I have that sick feeling like I just bought unseen oceanfront property in Florida that is in reality, swamp.  The attorney needs more time, title is in, other paperwork is missing, bla bla bla. The shop says they thought they fixed that leaking thing, and, the speedometer won't be fixed, but they have a bicycle speedometer I can super-glue to the wheel.  I am not kidding, this is the real deal.
March 26, I email the owner and explain the ever increasing saga and petition for his assistance.
March 28, the attorney tells me the papers are here, in San Isidro, however she is going to send them to me because if I am driving without them the vehicle will be impounded.  No one ever mentioned that part.
March 29, I get the papers, unknown liquids are now no longer dripping from the bike, it is flowing, yes, like you you squeeze ketchup on a burger you can't wait to eat.  The shop is nice and fixes the problem, he hears my petition since I have driven the bike less than 2 miles at this point.  With the papers having arrived (miraculously) and a full tank of gas, my passport, photocopies of it for everyone I may encounter, I head off to get the inspection done.  Oh yea, forgot, so since the papers need stickers as well as the bike I am to take a back road trail system to San Isidro since I guess I am still dodging the police with threat of huge fines or impound of the bike.  I guess everyone not as adventure driven take new motorcycles on the bus with them to get inspections done.  I make the trip following sparse directions, into town and actually find the place.  The attorney shows up 30 min later and hands me some docs, failed to tell me I needed an appointment for the inspection.  It's 1:30, they give me an appointment for 4:30, meaning by the time I am done the INS office that I also need to go to will be closed.  I will need to take the back roads back to Uvita, where we live, an hour away, and come back the next day to get the INS sticker and THEN I will be legal.
I decide to blend in like a only a gringo can in a sea of Costaricans and try to slip into an earlier appointment... it works and I get out of the inspection place by 3:15.  The speedometer jerryrigged thing actually passed despite that it didn't work~ Bueno- time to spare... I will get my INS sticker, grab a good late lunch and cruise home. NOpe.
On the way to the INS office it begins to POUR, I enter looking like I just got out of the pool, fully clothed and try to look put together like only a drown cat can. INS office looks at all my paperwork and tells me I need an original of document XYZ.  I only have a copy. Bless that attorney, who not only picked me up but CREATED a document that would pass and could be used, all in under 30 minutes.  She really was a God-send.  I was only slightly concerned when, on the way to her office, she asks me where I left the motorcycle.  "Parked it outside around the corner" I respond- "No! no! she declares, with a look of fear.... it will be stolen!"  - I don't know what I was supposed to do with it, as I am pretty sure the guards at INS would not have allowed it in the staff lounge, but apparently without the stickers on it is fair game or something. I was too tired to care, laughed it off and tried to put her at ease.  I mean come on, she's only lived there her whole life... what does she know about the crime rate.  Long story short a cab gets me back to INS minutes before closing and I get the stickers.... I can now enjoy a LEGAL ride home, 65 minutes in the dark (sunset is  early at the equator) and pouring rain on a bike that was, thankfully, still there when I returned.  I truly owe a debt of extra measure to the shop and the attorney who bent over backward to make this happen in under 2 weeks.
I am itching now to buy that car... no, wait, that's a series of mosquito bites- my bad.

The Move

The Move

We have, by nature of some of our family goals and our business and investment  choices, moved frequently.  This became a science with labeled alphanumeric totes, categorized and very efficient.   This is no small thing; however it paled in comparison to moving out of the country.  We indeed underestimated the amount of work it takes to downsize life to some suitcases, compounded by the litany of kid-gear that comes with parenthood. I recommend downsizing, there are few feelings more liberating than hauling a truckload of unused life to a charity and watching it all go away; “stuff” becomes parasitic. 

We left SLC with our house rented furnished, some items at friend’s homes, a lot of packing into owner storage areas at rentals, but overall we packed carefully.  It took TIME.  Much more time was needed than ever expected to pack and downsize. We recommend taking your estimate of how long it will take to prepare and times it by your oldest child’s shoe size.   A day before our flights out two children became sick and began vomiting; this was a blessing and a curse.  While the airlines could care less and will only allow changes without penalty if you die or contract measles (no joke) it gave us another week and allowed us to become better organized.  It was actually cheaper to buy new tickets at that point than to pay the change fees and be reissued tickets… crazy, and telling.  Cheaper is relative; you must take your planned budget and times that by the sum of the ages of your children for concise fiscal numbers these endeavors require, if you don’t have kids add up the  your area code.

We made some great travel decisions…  a double stroller that, with a few added bungee cords, can carry 250lbs of luggage made airports negotiable, like our own checkable luggage cart, though no children ever sat in it the large wheeled stroller it was a huge hit, and cheap, $100 from a craigslist type site and new in the box.  I recommend them even if you have no children,  motorized they may double as a golf cart.

We flew and stayed overnight  due to a long layover, giving opportunity for some much needed R and R at a hotel with a pool and play area, continental breakfast and a host of other amenities available to guests  that check in earlier than  11pm and leave later than 3am as we did.  Never have a slept so well on an 8minute shuttle ride as that night.  

As you can imagine, with 3 kids, 4 carry-ons , 4 laptops, a stroller the size of some European cars and a pile of dolls, “purses” and other baggage only parents know,  for we caused travelers in line behind us at security screening to start making alternate plans, canceling pick-up times, etc. They actually opened up another screening line at one airport because we sufficiently stopped traffic while they removed Autumn’s milk from her sippy to thoroughly test for explosives.  Strange they failed to test contents of her diaper which have a known track record of fitting every description of what you cannot mail, ship or bring within 100m of an airplane.

Arriving, after a gratefully uneventful trip was like preparing for judgment day. I feared customs.  I was not importing crack or handguns, but knowing what potentially awaited us and the LINES of people that ran a head of our amoeba-like procession to serpentine of lines before customs… I was bracing for the worst. God must have seen our predicament, our tired kids and tired eyes as He led that wonderous employee whom I will forever remember, whom graciously ushered us past EVERYONE to the front of the line….  I knew behind me were not many angry people, but several which had watched us on the flight, smiled and were now quietly giving thanks for such an aware attendant.  We had checked 8 pieces of luggage, weighing between 46 and 50 lbs each as well as the other pile we flew with.  It seems like a lot but given the circumstances and in retrospect we planned and packed well for a move.  We shipped nothing, and yes, we did fit it all in a microbus cab. Bien Veniedos, we had made it.

The blogging begins!

I swore I would never be a blogger.  I also swore off carrying a cell phone, maintaining a manicured lawn, spending weekends "at home", vacationing with relatives as well as a dozen other personal laws that I have tossed out over the years, and grateful I did so.  Then there is the other side; the things that I swore I would do someday, the big jumps, the "what if"s and thankfully I HAVE done a few of those dreamy ones.  Presently I am sitting deep in the tropics, working remotely looking out into the jungle while the kids play in the pool, we are 5 minutes to the beach, have monkeys behind the house and generally stare at each other a few times a day wondering if this is really happening.
We can't believe we did this at times, at the same time we have that part of the brain that said "you're nuts it you don't".  With three kids we packed, cleaned and rented our house, grabbed a bunch of suitcases and car seats and came to Costa Rica.  We left what I deem to be a pretty amazing place in Utah, situated 15 minutes away from incredible ski resorts, minutes from top climbing, biking, hiking and the best Salt Lake has to offer.  We left a land nearly devoid of insects.  We came to the southern Pacific of Costa Rica, the top of the Osa Peninsula in a small rural town by the beach called Uvita, or Uvita de la Osa as the locals call it; a land with seemingly more insects and wildlife now living in my house than used to inhabit my entire neighborhood.
This all started in 2006 as my wife and I lay on the beach on the Osa peninsula and felt that longing to never leave.  My heart felt attached to something here... was it the climate? We are snowboarders, love snowmobiling, ice skating and other things below zero.... -or was it the greenery? Utah's brown and grey color scheme seems arid and barren in contrast.  -was it the slower pace?  no, I mean SLOWER pace... sometimes maddeningly slow as you wait DAYS or WEEKS for services available "same day" in the states.  Who knows, but we felt like it would be a dream to live in Costa Rica, and to raise kids... and so began the schemes, the planning, the research and a lot of dreaming.
We will have been in the country one week as of later today, it's already been a ride, complete with amazement (on both regards) and a lot of joy.  We begin this blog to simply share what we did, how we did it and why we did it laced into the log of our lives as we give a shot to living abroad with a young family.  We plan to share all of the ins and outs that we employed so that you, in your own way, may be inspired to grab those aspirations that light up your mind.  We welcome comments, ideas, followers and friends. Thanks ya'll! :)