A Simple Life Can Be Awfully Complicated

This was a day of big accomplishments. First we found the post office. Then we actually rented a PO Box. If you think that's no big deal come on down to Costa Rica for a while and you might leave with a deeper appreciation for how complicated a simpler life can be.

The whole idea of doing so started two weeks ago when we asked a friend if Palmares has a post office (correos). He responded in the affirmative but said he would have to show us where it is because it's hard to find.

You may be asking just how hard can finding the post office be? But, when you consider that in more than one month we've never seen one single street sign -- anywhere in Palmares -- you realize that trying to explain the exact location of anything could get a little hairy. To make matters even more complicated, not only are there no street signs, there are no street numbers -- anywhere!

Instead, addresses are given in relationship to landmarks. For example, a store might have an address that reads: 50 meters south and 25 meters east of central park. Believe it or not, that is useful information to someone who knows the lay of the land. And even newcomers like us can figure some of these things out, but there's a catch. Always there's a catch, right? Sometimes the landmark doesn't exist anymore! It could be a school that was torn down ten years ago, but why change the address? Everybody knows where it is.

So we set out today on a mission to find the Post Office and save our friend the bother of having to show us where it is located, knowing that the address of Central between Calle 6 and Calle 8 that we had found on the Internet wasn't going to help us one bit!

We hiked to town and started asking around. That was our first mistake. If you ask a question in Spanish you'll get an answer in Spanish! So we listen for bits and pieces of words we might recognize and watch the body language. Usually the hand motions will give us a clue that will get us going in the right direction. In this case, we caught "banco" and the hand signal that told us we should turn right. That would put us in front of the Banco de Costa Rica. Good! We were off.

When we reach BCR, there were two people standing in front awaiting their turn at the ATM machine. I approached with my best espanol:
"Pardon. Donde esta la officina de correos?" They chatted between themselves for a few sentences then the man responded in perfect English.

"Palmares doesn't have a post office."
"They don't?" I asked.
"No. We've lived here all our lives and we've never seen a post office. The only post office is in San Jose."

Of course, we knew differently, since our friend had told us there was, indeed, a post office in Palmares. But we also had seen one in Alajuela. So we thanked them politely and continued on.

A block further down the road, we asked a taxi driver, who declared his inability to speak English. He pointed in the direction we were walking and managed two important words in English, "Two blocks."

Onward.

Two blocks later, we found a little blue building with a sign that read, "Correos. Post Office." Eureka.

Once inside, we were greeted by a postal employee who also claimed to speak no English, but managed to convey to us that, yes, there were post office boxes available, but that we would need a copy of mi esposa's passport to rent one.

Off to the libreria. (Remember the book store is really an office supply store and usually also provides copy and fax service, as well.)

Back with the copies, I completed the application with a little tutoring from the postal worker and mi esposa paid 9,550 colones (almost $20), at which point we were told that we could come back tomorrow to pick up the key. Why tomorrow and not today? We didn't ask her, so don't ask me. The answer would have been in espanol anyway. Suffice it to say that this is the way things work in Costa Rica.

The important thing is that we now have a real "American style" address, not just 75 meters west of..., which of course, is the address the mail carrier, taxi driver, electric company, etc., will use to do business with us.

Like I said, a simple life can be awfully complicated.

Pura Vida

Post script:

If you're still wondering why the two locals claimed no knowledge of the little blue officina de correos, the answer is really quite basic. Most people live their entire lives here without ever needing to use the services of the local post office. Consequently they have no idea it even exists.

Recipe for An Almost Perfect Day

Wake to fog after an all-night rain.

Watch skies clear.

Sweat a little by mid-afternoon.

Welcome afternoon thunderstorms that drop the temperature fifteen degrees in a few short minutes.

Jump when lightening strikes a few hundred feet away.

Burn dinner.

Create a delicious new soup recipe with what can be salvaged.

Take a photo of the clearing skies as night falls.



Grab a sweater and share your near-perfect day with people you love who are very far away.


Pura Vida

The Scavenger Hunt! Shopping in Costa Rica

We bought a set of sheets yesterday. In the States, that might not be worth noting, but here – for us – it constitutes a major milestone. Come to think of it, even small purchases like clothes pins and bleach can turn into a scavenger hunt with real challenges.

> Where to find it
> Reading labels that might be written only in Spanish
> Calculating price per unit, usually listed in grams not ounces and always in colones, not U.S. dollars
> Evaluating quality which can vary greatly from the States to Central America
> Identifying products we may have never seen before
> Getting large or heavy purchases home

The list seems endless and often overwhelming.

Luckily, we began this adventure anticipating – and even looking forward to – a serious learning curve. Still at the end of a long day shopping day, I find myself trying to decide which I need more: aspirin or a stiff drink.

In some respects, shopping in Costa Rica has a bit in common with shopping in a small town in rural Arizona, with a preponderance of specialty shops and few big box stores that we tend to frequent in Big City, USA. Still, while a small town here may have a similar concentration of commercial acres in the center of town, the area seems to be shared between a greater number of smaller stores – many carrying very similar products and with large voids in product offerings.

Take refrigerators and pillows for an example. Even in tiny Palmares, there are probably six different stores where you can purchase a new refrigerator and have it delivered before the close of business. They all carry the same brands and models, with price, service and credit terms often influencing the purchase decision.

At the same time, we’ve been searching for decent (not luxurious) bed pillows since we arrived. Perhaps the answer was as simple as Price Smart (the Price Club/Sam’s Club of Costa Rica) or some other big box stores that we have not discovered, but we assumed we would find them in one of the hundreds of independently owned housewares stores that populate every town we’ve visited. Nope. At least not yet. We found flimsy little pillows that will surely crush to nothing in no time at all – at a price we weren’t willing to pay. But after a month of searching, yesterday we settled on two somewhat dense throw pillows that we think will hold up until we return to the States in October. Trust me when I say that we will be stocking up on such things and sending them to Costa Rica in our shipping container.

Want chicken or bread? Head for the meat market or the panaderia. You’ll probably find at least three of each on one block in the center of town. You buy your sausage at the sausage store. Cheese, natilla (sour cream), or eggs? These you can often find at the meat market or supermarket (yes! There are supermarkets, usually small, always slightly more expensive), but you’ll pay less at the feria (weekly farmer’s market). Ditto with fresh produce.



Spices. You can buy little packets or jars at the supermarket, or you can buy them by the gram at the central market.





Books are bought at the libreria, which is more of an office supply store than a book store.

Cell phones and related items – there’s a store for it. Ditto for computers and accessories.

Looking for a new puppy or kitten? Visit the feedstore. While you're there you can buy some chickens or a love bird.




Toys? You’ve guessed it. Palmares has no fewer than ten little toy stores!

Hammer and nails are bought at the ferreteria, or hardware store. While you’re there, ask about clothespins. They may not have them, but if you’re as lucky as we were, the owner will dash down the street and bring you a package from another store, collect your money and, presumably, settle up with the other merchant later.




Prescriptions – head for the farmacia, no prescription necessary except for narcotics.

Aspirin - You’ll find that in the farmacia , but be aware that over-the-counter and prescription drugs are sold on foil sheets sealed in plastic bubbles (probably due to humidity) and are priced by the unit. Want just one? No problem, the pharmacy clerk will cut one bubble off for you. Want the equivalent of a whole bottle of aspirin? Plan on mortgaging the house! So while prescription drugs cost less here than in the States as a general rule, not so with over-the-counter meds. We’ve already added a super-large Kirkland brand bottle to the list of things our daughter will be muling over to us in August.

The farmacia will also offer beauty supplies like lotions and deodorant, as well, but you’ll find better prices at the perfumeria – or sometimes at a store that sells ladies accessories, such as hair brushes, barrettes, jewelry.

But while you’re at the farmacia, you can consult with the pharmacist and save yourself a trip to the doctor, by the way, and even get a flu shot or other routine injection.

And then there is ribbon? There are entire, albeit small, stores that offer every kind of ribbon you can imagine, along with a small smattering of gift wrap.

So there, in a snapshot ,is the world of consumer commerce in Costa Rica. It’s a country filled with small businesses with very specialized focus. As such, customer service plays a serious competitive role in a business’ success or failure. And how do two lone gringos forge a path through the mercantile jungle? With determination, tenacity, and a sheet of very expensive aspirin!

Pura Vida

P.S. In an ocean new "newness" don't be too surprised when you see a Payless Shoe Source in town - along with McDonalds, Burger King, Quiznos, KFC, Taco Bell, Pizza Hut... and all the other fast food places that weren't part of the motivation to move to Costa Rica.

A Day in Paradise

Today was one of the most amazing since we arrived in Costa Rica. After a series of scheduling complications, we finally made it to Zarcero! The tiny mountain town, known internationally for the fabulous topiaries that populate its central park, is the hometown of our very own Ms. M., who escorted us on this trip.

After a tour of the town, its beautiful church (Ms. M.'s brother is the artist who painted the ceiling!), and a light snack of coffee and tamals at a local soda, Ms. M. drove us to the dairy farm owned by her aunt and uncle. I could write for hours about the beautiful setting and the breathtaking panoramas, but the photos will do a far better job.











What can't be captured in photos, however, is the warmth and generosity of Ms. M.'s family. After greeting us with open arms, her uncle led us on a stroll along a concrete path bordered on both sides by an electric fence to the top of the hill behind the cow barn (forgive my obvious lack of dairy farm lingo!). About half-way to the top, we had to yield to about half of the 60-head herd of milking cows headed down the hill to the barn, ready and anxious to be attached to the mechanized milking machines.










Later as we sat at an ancient kitchen table, covered by a worn plastic table cloth, in a room that hadn't been painted in probably twenty years, eating a simple meal of homemade tortillas with a diced potato filling, natilla (sour cream), and a few bread-type pastries and coffee, it was clear that every extra resource this family had at their disposal was directed at keeping the cows safe, healthy and happy. And with that, their tattered home, a large circle of family, the beauty of their surroundings, and the pride that comes from honest work they, too, were happy.



Life just doesn't get much better.

Pura Vida

Pause to Meet Flash

This is Flash, one of five Green-breasted Mango hummingbirds that visit our feeder. Actually, we think that Flash has claimed sole proprietorship, although defending his turf is a full-time job.

Even a hard-worker like Flash needs to take a break now and then from fighting and feeding, and his favorite place to pause is on a stick of PVC stored under the eaves of our apartment -- four short feet from where we sit.

Flash seems oddly curious about us, repeatedly turning his head to get a good look at the creatures who fill his juice jug and talk softly to him. Occasionally, on his way back after snacking on tiny flies or chasing an interloper from his manna, he will pause in flight a few feet in front of us, too, giving us a good, but quick, look over. And then there are the fly-bys - the dog-fight skirmishes that take place within inches of our heads - and high-speed excursions through the apartment - in through the open bedroom window, into the living room, and finally back outside through the front door. Flash appears perfectly calm and in control as he passes through, so we've concluded that he knows exactly what he's doing on these little trips. We just hope he snags a little protein along the way.


Today this Blue Cracker butterfly found his way to our place, too. Someone (presumably birds) had poked a large hole in the bottom of one of the plantains we had hung outside to ripen, and Blue, as we call him, stopped by for a taste.
He stayed for close to a half-hour, until I accidentally frightened him and he moved to the hummingbird feeder. Of course, Flash would have none of that, so we bid Blue farewell and invited him to stops by again some time.


Pura Vida

Paper Work

Yesterday I mentioned that in my next post, I would describe how different transportation is here, compared to the U.S. That was before I realized that I left an important part of the personal hygiene topic unaddressed: TP, or bathroom tissue as some prefer to call it. For sure, it's an awkward subject, but one that certainly takes many gringos by surprise. I will attempt to address the subject as delicately as possible.

I'm told that much of Costa Rica operates on septic systems. Some newer ones; many more older ones. And there seems to be a universal concern about TP accumulation clogging up those systems. Whether or not those concerns are justified or not, I'll leave to folks who know about these things. All I really care about is what to do with the stuff when I'm finished with it. And the most common answer to that is - DO NOT FLUSH IT unless you know it's okay to do so. Ick!

Actually, once we got over our initial repulsion at the thought of tossing our little wad of used tissue in the basket next to the toilet, the realization that it is indeed an almost universal custom and that pretty much everybody has to do it, we began to relax and go with flow. (No pun intended - honest!) Now, a few short weeks after arriving, we simply take it in stride.

A bigger issue is the fact that public restrooms rarely have any TP at all. And forget paper towel dispensers in the bathrooms. If you're lucky, there will be an operating air dryer, but not always.

The solution, of course, is to leave home prepared. I carry a canvas shopping bag with me everywhere I go. Its contents are carefully chosen to rescue me from my biggest worries when I leave the house:

> My Spanish/English dictionary
> A composition notebook for jotting down important information
> A pen or pencil
> Three plastic bags containing:
... A clean, dry washcloth to use as a towel or dampen for a cleanup if necessary
... 4 or 5 little bundles of TP
... Several clean papertowels - because you never know!
> Two or three 100-colonie coins, because free public toilets generally don't exist

So now you know the rest of the personal hygiene story. Next up: transportation.... really.

Until then...


Pura Vida

Getting From Here to There

Make no mistake. We do miss our car here in Costa Rica! Not because it's shiny and new. It isn't. What we miss is the sheer convenience and freedom that came with having one in the States. That said, we are getting along just fine in Costa Rica without one and will probably choose to so for the foreseeable future.

Surely you're wondering why. Or more precisely, your're wondering why we don't just buy another one or transport the one we already own that is paid for and in great condition down to Costa Rica. Like all things Costa Rican, the answer is both simple and complex.

The simple answer is that we don't need one here. Remember the line we're trying to establish between need and want? For us, a car most assuredly fits on the want side of that line - at least for now. But the need, or lack thereof, for car ownership is not a one-size-fits-all topic here. And that's where it gets complicated.

To understand that, let's begin by examining public transportation - the means, by which the vast majority of Ticos and Ticas get around town and travel across the country.


Our Local City Bus

Buses and taxis are plentiful, convenient, and affordable -- and mostly comfortable. They are also highly regulated by the government in an attempt to keep travel safe and affordable.

Taxis line up alongside the central park, near every bus terminal or parada de autobuses, shopping centers, and at the airport, as well as just about everywhere else large numbers of people come and go. And they cruise the city looking for potential fares. A ride from the bus station in Palmares to our apartment, a distance of about a mile and a half, costs about $2 USD. A taxi from the airport to our hotel in Alajuela, about a 10 minute drive, cost $5.

Buses come in two flavors: city and long-distance. City buses are older and less comfortable (think hard plastic seats), but they are cheap, frequent, and go just about everywhere.

We live in a somewhat rural community on the outskirts of a small town. Now in the U.S. that would likely translate into no bus service at all. But we not only have daily bus service, we have hourly bus service from 5:30 am until about 7:00 pm, Monday through Saturday - at a cost of 240 colones, or about 50 cents, USD. That's a 75% savings over a taxi, for one person and 50% savings for two.


Inside the San Jose/Palmares Bus

The one-hour trip to San Jose makes an equally compelling financial argument, at 1250 colones (about $2.25 USD) round trip by bys.

While on a car ride with a Tico friend, recently, we passed a bus on a winding road half way up a sparsely populated mountain. Our friend explained that the community has 4x a day bus service!

I can't even imagine public transportation anywhere in the U.S. that would compare, so clearly a price comparison would seem a moot point and of questionable accuracy.

Long-distance buses are typically newer (often Mercedes or Volvo), larger, and more luxurious. They come in two varieties: express and collective, the latter stopping to pick up passengers more frequently along the route. To get an idea of how affordable it can be to take a bus rather than drive a long distance, consider that for about $12, one can take an 8-hour bus ride from San Jose in the central valley to Golfito, near the Panama border. Of course, one trades the freedom to stop wherever and whenever along the way, but for some, cost is a far more compelling factor.

So, what about car ownership? For certain, many Ticos own cars -- as do probably the vast majority of gringos. We are, after all, expatriates from relatively affluent, car-loving countries, like the U.S. So, this is where the subject grows more complicated.

Life in some of the more remote locations can certainly make owning a car an absolute necessity - for safety, if nothing else. But car-ownership comes with a hefty price tag here in Costa Rica. Because of high-import duties, they can cost anywhere from 40% to 70% more than a comparable vehicle would cost in the U.S. Just as importantly, there are vastly more bad roads than good -- and bad roads translate into high-maintenance costs. To demonstrate "bad," consider that it is commonplace in the city for a local to plant a tree in a pot hole that has remained unrepaired too long. This way, at least the green sprout in the middle of the road gives drivers advance warning of the approaching hazard. On a country road, it's every man or woman for him/herself. Even on the main highways, it is not uncommon to encounter entire lanes that have crumbled down the mountainside from heavy rains.

Gas is expensive here, running the equivalent of about $1 a gallon more than the U.S.

Parking is expensive and inconvenient. Car theft is a real issue, so and parking in anything other than a secure paid lot is simply asking for problems - which basically means that for the most part you're going to be shopping on foot whether you drive yourself or take a bus.

Street markers and route signs are virtually non-existent, making navigation at best frustrating and at worst dangerous.

Finally, speed limits, stop signs, red lights, and yellow "do not pass" lines are perceived as mere suggestions, in spite of the government's attempts to clamp down on offenders. In short, driving among Ticos is not for the faint of heart.

So for now, we'll think longingly of the days when we could hop in our car on a whim and drive at our convenience to the destination of our choice, as we trek to and from bus stops, take an occasional taxi when it makes sense, sit back and relax while someone else worries about crazy drivers and pot holes... and get a little healthier from the extra exercise in the process.


Pura Vida

The Anatomy of a Suicide Shower

Coming to Costa Rica from Arizona, with its high-concentration of Hispanic-speaking people, where almost every other restaurant has a Mexican-sounding name, with its upscale grocery stores specializing in south-of-the-border foods, and when virtually every day one encounters elements of Hispanic culture, it’s tempting to imagine that living here might have an air of familiarity. Likewise, living in a small town. After all, aren’t small towns similar all over the world? Well, tempting as it might be, such assumptions could lead to some serious surprises and disappointments.

For sure, even in a small town in Costa Rica, everyone knows just about everyone and for sure everyone knows when there are new-comers in town? And , yes, Spanish is the language of the land. But spend a little time here and you’ll quickly learn the folly of painting with too broad a brush, whether you’re discussing living conditions in one country vs another or cultural differences between one population or another. Fortunately for us, we had spent a little time here before making the move, so we knew at least that much –if little else. So as we look back on our first month in Costa Rica, this would seem a good time to reconcile expectation with reality and share with our friend and family a bit of what we have discovered to be some of the most significant, and in some cases traumatic, differences between life here and back in the States.

And where better to start that at one of the very basic keystones of survival no matter where one lives – personal hygiene. Or more precisely, the anatomy of a suicide shower.




To understand the whys and wherefores of a Tico-style shower system, one must consider that in Costa Rica, electricity is expensive. Compare the starting rate of 22 cents per KWH here to the .8 cents we paid in Arizona. At that rate, heating a large tank of water and keeping it warm and ready for use would be cost-prohibitive for most Ticos. Consider also, that Costa Rican infrastructure does not include natural gas lines threading their way underground across the country. And the small propane tanks most people use for cooking would prove highly impractical for that purpose, as well. Consequently, most Tico homes do not have a hot water tank. And even a Tico or Tica, who has no qualms abou washing dishes or even his or her face in cold water, would certainly draw the line at a cold shower before work every morning. Hence, the instant water-heater shower head, gringos like to call the suicide shower.


The unit is comprised of a shower head that contains a small electric heater. It is wired to the household current – hopefully with a solid ground wire – and then connected to the cold water supply. If it is mounted low enough, one simply slides the switch to the left for hot water, to the right for warm water, and to the middle to turn the heater off completely. Most likely, that would position the showerhead too slow for a tall man, however, so often it is mounted high, the switch set to “high” and left there, activating only when the water flows through it. To fine-tune the water temperature, one need just increase or decrease the water volume – more results in cooler water, less in warmer water.



Lest you conclude that this is the crudest of showers, I will point out that the suicide shower also comes with a “hand shower” that is handy for rinsing feet and cleaning the shower walls and floor. It’s a simple flexible plastic tube that drops from the shower head and secured in place with a wall-mounted clip when not in use. To use it, one simply pulls on the little plastic nipple at the end to expose the spray orifice. To turn it off, push it in.



You may be asking if we miss the shower we left behind in Arizona, with it’s octo-rain-shower head and multi-function high-powered handshower, and the virtual certainty that only an act of God would result in death by electrocution while showering. Not for one minute!
Sure we enjoy the luxury afforded by State-side amentities. But that’s all they are… luxuries. And one of my personal objectives for this move is to find out for myself where the line is drawn between need and want. For us, that line falls a lot closer to a suicide shower than our octo-shower. The suicide shower is simple and effective. What more could one ask for? And there’s no standing around waiting for the hot water to get from the other end of the house to the bathroom!


Keep an eye on this spot for our next installment, in which we'll talk about transportation. Until then...


Pura Vida

Snapshots of life in Palmares

This guy lives, along with four other big guys and a handful of smaller ones, at Parque Central.


A woven work of art that greeted us this morning.



The past meets the present: Pizza Hut alongside the bull fight arena









Pura Vida

Mondays have turned into mini-marathons here now that precedence has given me first dibs on our landlady's semi-automatic Tico-style washing machine. (From here on, I'll refer to my landlady as Ms M - and while she is indeed divine, we'll keep it simple.)

Being in the depths of the rainy season, the first of my weather-imposed two-load limit has to be finished and on the line by no later than 7:30 a.m. So early it is; coffee at five o'clock, breakfast and a second cup of coffee at six, followed by pre-soaking the whites while I make myself presentable.

Trading language lessons with Ms M, who speaks ingles only slightly better than I speak espanol, has also become an integral part of our Monday morning routine. We spend a good bit of our time making confused faces, but after a bit of floundering for a strategy that will help each of us increase our vocabularies and grammatical correctness in our non-native language, we've finally settled on a system in which we simply ask questions and converse - first in our own language, then with a word by word translation, followed by a grammatical tune up. In the process, we discuss things like what Tico cleaning products work best, the names and uses for local produce, idiomatic expressions in both languages, and, of course, the usual getting to know you conversations on which friendships are built. It's fun, but hard work, and in the end both gratifying and stressful.

Like most Ticos, Ms M is incredibly generous, occasionally surprising us with a bowl of one of her homemade soups (tipica comida, or typical food)-- the most recent one no doubt made from one of her hens. I didn't question the health or completeness of the hen house because, as a born and bred city girl, I'd truly prefer to remain unsure. But the soup was delicious, so we'll let it go at that.

This morning she presented us with a package of natilla, a fresh sour cream that is a staple condiment on the Costa Rican table. Like Mexican crema fresca, natilla is light and smooth, with less pungency than American sour cream. Just a small spoonful on top of almost any dish adds amazing complexity and flavor dimension.

So today I am returning her generosity with a taste from ethic America -- cabbage rolls, or as they would be called here, repollo relleno (filled cabbage). It's a dish I can only dream of mastering at the level of my late mother-in-law, but I think they will enjoy it.

As I wrap up this post, I am reminded that last week marked our first full month in Palmares and how comfortable we have become in such a short time. And since such an important milestone deserves more than a passing acknowledgment, look for a series of posts to follow over the course of the next week or so in which we will examine what we see as the biggest differences between life here and in the U.S. In doing so, we will grant that our observations are bound to be fraught with misconceptions born of inexperience and will likely change somewhat over the course of time. However, they will certainly reflect the viewpoint of gringos who are "fresh off the boat," so to speak.

Until then...

Pura Vida

The Dish Detergent Mystery

Today I’m pondering certain assumptions we take as gospel in the U.S. Those who know me well know this is not something new. One of my perennial conundrums has been the question of why one must refrigerate cooked eggs but not a cake that has been baked with eggs. Or why we refrigerate applesauce but not apple pie. Go figure. Someday I may find the answers to these and other life mysteries, but until then I’ll turn my attention to dish soap.

At home I relied on my automatic dishwasher to clean – in piping hot water, I might add – the seemingly unending supply of dirty dishes we managed to generate in a given day. That was then; this is now.

My “now” includes a kitchen equipped with a sink, refrigerator and a two-burner propane cooktop. It also comes with a generous supply of ants ready to sound the battle cry if even a crumb remains on the floor or counter for very long. Fortunately, with a bit of diligence I can keep dishes and countertop clean enough that they are content to shop elsewhere – until the moment when I let down my guard, of course.

That diligence translates into hands in the dishwater three+ times a day (we do love our snacks!) So my hands should be a wreck, right? Wrong.

Now, I’m not a neophyte when it comes to washing dishes by hand. Every summer when we set off in our motorhome, a bottle of Palmolive or Dawn traveled with us. Without fail, my hands would be dry, cracked, & sore within a few days. But I’ve been washing dishes by hand for almost three weeks now and they are in better shape than when I left Arizona.

It begs the question: Is it the dish soap or the cold water?

Yes… in Costa Rica we wash our dishes in cold water, just like I did most times in the motorhome, even though I was sure I was risking food poisoning and/or going to hell for doing so! So I’m thinking it’s probably not the hot water that damages your hands but the formulation.

The label on my little bottle of Axion reads, “Poderoso en Auga Fria” or “Powerful in Cold Water" and it does! A little goes a long way, too, so it must be pretty concentrated.

So now I have two questions: Is it really necessary to use hot water with the detergents we buy in U.S. supermarkets, or have we been brainwashed into believing something that simply isn't factual? And why can the folks who formulated Axion make a product that is strong enough to clean your dishes without ruining your hands, but not the folks who make the stuff for the U.S. market?

Fortunately, I'm accustomed to living in a state of confusion, so not having anything more than suspicions that center on big business manipulating us for bigger profits, I’ll remain content to file this one for now alongside my unanswered questions about applesauce and apple pie. You have my word that when and if I figure it out, I'll be sure to let you know.

Pura Vida



Oh yes... one more thing.

Check out the eggs displayed in the window of this Alajuela store. Eggs are never refrigerated in Costa Rican grocery stores even though we're told in the U.S. that it's unsafe to store them at room temperature. But that’s another subject for another day -- assuming that eating those eggs doesn't kill us in the meantime, of course.

The Dish Detergent Mystery

Today I’m pondering certain assumptions we take as gospel in the U.S. Those who know me well know this is not something new. One of my perennial conundrums has been the question of why one must refrigerate cooked eggs but not a cake that has been baked with eggs. Or why we refrigerate applesauce but not apple pie. Go figure. Someday I may find the answers to these and other life mysteries, but until then I’ll turn my attention to dish soap.

At home I relied on my automatic dishwasher to clean – in piping hot water, I might add – the seemingly unending supply of dirty dishes we managed to generate in a given day. That was then; this is now.

My “now” includes a kitchen equipped with a sink, refrigerator and a two-burner propane cooktop. It also comes with a generous supply of ants ready to sound the battle cry if even a crumb remains on the floor or counter for very long. Fortunately, with a bit of diligence I can keep dishes and countertop clean enough that they are content to shop elsewhere – until the moment when I let down my guard, of course.

That diligence translates into hands in the dishwater three+ times a day (we do love our snacks!) So my hands should be a wreck, right? Wrong.

Now, I’m not a neophyte when it comes to washing dishes by hand. Every summer when we set off in our motorhome, a bottle of Palmolive or Dawn traveled with us. Without fail, my hands would be dry, cracked, & sore within a few days. But I’ve been washing dishes by hand for almost three weeks now and they are in better shape than when I left Arizona.

It begs the question: Is it the dish soap or the cold water?

Yes… in Costa Rica we wash our dishes in cold water, just like I did most times in the motorhome, even though I was sure I was risking food poisoning and/or going to hell for doing so! So I’m thinking it’s probably not the hot water that damages your hands but the formulation.

The label on my little bottle of Axion reads, “Poderoso en Auga Fria” or “Powerful in Cold Water" and it does! A little goes a long way, too, so it must be pretty concentrated.

So now I have two questions: Is it really necessary to use hot water with the detergents we buy in U.S. supermarkets, or have we been brainwashed into believing something that simply isn't factual? And why can the folks who formulated Axion make a product that is strong enough to clean your dishes without ruining your hands, but not the folks who make the stuff for the U.S. market?

Fortunately, I'm accustomed to living in a state of confusion, so not having anything more than suspicions that center on big business manipulating us for bigger profits, I’ll remain content to file this one for now alongside my unanswered questions about applesauce and apple pie. You have my word that when and if I figure it out, I'll be sure to let you know.

Pura Vida



Oh yes... one more thing.

Check out the eggs displayed in the window of this Alajuela store. Eggs are never refrigerated in Costa Rican grocery stores even though we're told in the U.S. that it's unsafe to store them at room temperature. But that’s another subject for another day -- assuming that eating those eggs doesn't kill us in the meantime, of course.

Capitalism the Tico Way

Capitalism is alive and well in Costa Rica. In fact, it’s flourishing in spite of high taxes, hefty import duties, and stringent regulation on such matters as labor law, renters' rights and other aspects of living, working, and conducting business here that we have not yet discovered.

To be clear, Costa Rica is a democracy with a progressive constitution that protects the individual rights of its citizens, permanent and temporary residents, and even visitors. It also has nationalized medicine, alcohol, telecommunications, electricity, oil refining, and mass transportation. Still, the drive into San Jose from the airport presents clear evidence of the vast number of foreign corporations who have chosen to locate at least a portion of their operations here in spite of those regulations.


A spice vendor at the central market.

But more importantly, to my view, is that the streets of every city, town, or village we have visited are lined with clothing stores, shoe stores, jewelry stores, pharmacies, hardware stores, office supply stores, cell phone stores, computer stores, Internet cafes, diners (Ticos call them sodas), bakeries, private clinics, pharmacies, hair salons, furniture makers, auto repair shops, industrial suppliers , street corner produce venders… well you get the picture.

While some of these businesses are clearly owned by large corporations, most – in fact, by my observation, the vast majority -- are small businesses. Some of these businesses are robust operations that provide a paycheck to large a extended family and other employees, as well. Just as prevalent, though, are tiny, tiny businesses in which one or two people work the entire operation, often in a little cubby of a shop.

For sure, Costa Rica reminds me of the way the U.S. was perhaps 40 years ago. A place where an idea, a few dollars, and a lot of hard work can earn a person a living and the satisfaction of making one’s own road in life. A place where entrepreneurism is as common as gallo pinto and fried platanos.

Pura Vida

Going Green

Our decision to move to Costa Rica hinged primarily on a practical need, specifically gaps in my healthcare insurance. An equally compelling reason, however, was a restless feeling that had turned into a desire to make a total change in lifestyle and to learn something in the process about how people in a developing nation live. If reducing our carbon footprint crossed our mind, it was fleetingly at best.

As we've established a new, spartan lifestyle, however, curiosity about how the changes might be measured in green terms has begun niggling at me. So yesterday I set out to find the answer.

I quickly learned that most of the carbon footprint calculators on the Internet are designed for use in the U.S. With a little patience and persistence, though, I finally found one that lets you specify your country of residence. I plugged in Costa Rica and estimated our electricity consumption, based on the minimum usage bracket on the ICE website. (ICE is the Costa Rican government-owned electricity provider.) The number is clearly much, much higher than we currently use, but is intended to give us an idea about how our usage might look under more normal circumstances. Then I threw out what I thought would be a high number for the kilometers traveled by bus each year and even included one flight back to the States annually just to make sure I wasn't understating our case.

The resulting calculation shows that even when we ramp up our lifestyle with creature comforts like reading lamps and an oven, our CO2 emissions will register somewhere in the range of 10% of the typical resident of the U.S.


Our Individual Carbon Footprints
House 0.20 metric tons of CO2
Flights 0.69 metric tons of CO2
Car 0.00 metric tons of CO2
Bus & Rail 0.21 metric tons of CO2

Total = 1.10 metric tons of CO2

According to the EPA, the average emissions per person in the United States runs about about 20,750 pounds, or 10.3 tons.

The volume of trash we throw away has reduced dramatically, as well, now that we donate our fruit & vegetable waste to the compost and buy very little in the way of processed foods. Since arriving here almost four weeks, we have bought two cans of refried beans and two more of tuna. A small plastic jar of peanut butter will be repurposed when it's empty. Paper products are pricey, so we use them sparingly. As a result, we put out one 10-gallon trash bag for pickup 2x a week. Compare that to at least double that when we lived in Arizona.

So all in all, we're feeling pretty good about this one instance where the rule of unintended consequences actually benefits all of us.

To be certain, we aren't implying that everyone needs to live the way we do right now. It's extreme to say the least and temporary even for us. But if you would like to measure your carbon footprint and think about ways you might be able to reduce it, here are links to two different calculators.

http://www.carbonfootprint.com/calculator.aspx
http://www.epa.gov/climatechange/emissions/ind_calculator2.html

Pura Vida

Mutt and Jeff

One of the more obvious differences between Costa Rica and the U.S. is the total lack of leash laws here. Stray dogs and pets, alike, run lose in neighborhoods. Downtown street dogs wander undisturbed in and out of meat markets (carnicerias), bakeries (panaderias), the central market, and even a restaurant now and then. Often they lie nearby waiting patiently for handouts that are sure to be offered.

Some dog owners tie their dogs out in the yard at night or corral them behind iron or chain-link fences, presumably for both the dog’s safety and their own, as the disturbance of a barking dog is likely to avert any would-be intruders.
With such freedom comes a serious degree of street smarts. It’s not uncommon to see a dog lay down in the middle of the rural road near our apartment only to scurry to the safety of a nearby road when a car approaches. Walkers and bicyclists are frequently escorted – and even playfully chased on occasion – by friendly canines. Reach for one, though, and they are likely to shy away until learning your intentions.

Mutt and Jeff, the names we’ve given to two neighborhood pets, have become a key component of our daily entertainment as we sip Costa Rican coffee on our balcony each morning. Mutt is a youngish (perhaps a year old -- certainly not much older) yellow lab mix. Jeff is a rag mop of undermined age and breed. Mutt is definitely the adventurer. He’s first out of the yard each morning, rip roaring and ready to go. Jeff takes his time because he knows that Mutt will wander only so far into the vacant lot across the street and then stop and wait until his little bud has sniffed a meandering path and finally caught up with him.

Then they’re off – chasing opossums, digging holes search of one vermin or another, blazing trails through the thick underbrush of a nearby wooded lot. What we enjoy most about watching them, however, is their patient loyalty to their friendship. Where there’s Mutt you can be sure Jeff is not far behind.

Everybody deserves to have a friend they can count on the way Mutt and Jeff do. That way no path would be scary or lonely to travel.

The Big Day

Yesterday we attended the wedding of our Tico friends. We approached the event with ample curiosity, given that we have never attended a wedding in a foreign county. We had read a little about Costa Rican wedding traditions, but you never know which elements a modern couple might choose to incorporate, alter or omit completely.

If there was one thing remarkable about the wedding it would be what appeared to be a total lack of stress. For sure, the wedding itself was structured very much like weddings in the US, but at the same time it was quite different. It was far from a Hollywood production, as hubby described most weddings in the States – and devoid of worries over inconsequential details.

The bride wore a beautifully embroidered, strapless white dress. Her long dark hair was artfully arranged in curls on the back of her head with a short veil attached below. The maid of honor wore a purple, ruffled “spaghetti strap” dress. There was a flower girl and another little girl who carried the rings (ages probably 8 & 10). White calla lilly sprays dotted with 3 large orange blossoms were placed in the usual locations. But the event was more casual than weddings usually are in the US. No ushers. No "bride's side" and "groom's side." Everybody just came in and sat where they wanted to sit. No programs. No pew ribbons. No reserved seating, although people seemed to understand that the parents would sit in the first couple of pews. Both sets of parents, by the way, sat on the same side of the church. None of this his and hers stuff anywhere to be seen!

The groom walked down the aisle with his parents. His bride walked down the aisle with her parents. No "Here Comes the Bride" ... just regular mass music, with a bit of a Latin beat. A bench and two side chairs were positioned at the front of the church - all covered in white slipcovers for the bridal couple, the maid of honor and the best man sit on during the mass. The happy couple chatted periodically during the mass, and at one point her maid of honor stood up and adjusted the bride's veil so that it dropped behind the back of the bench. Very casual... and very comfortable. Babies cried and nobody got hysterical about it (although the parents were probably a bit stressed). The 2 or 3 year-old son of the maid of honor broke free at one point and ran to the front of the church to be near Mom and threw a nasty temper tantrum when they removed him, but everybody seemed to take it in stride.

The priest invited the photographer to come forward for shots of important moments. Speaking of the priest, we couldn't understand much of what he said, but one of the groom’s English-speaking friends who sat next to me explained that he was giving them down to earth advise in the form of a parable about building a house. He spoke with humor and grand animation. It was fun to listen to and watch, even without a word by word interpretation. Never before was I more aware of how beautiful the Spanish language is.

After their vows and exchange of rings, the priest blessing 13 Costa Rican coins that the groom presented to the bride as a symbol of their commitment to share their worldly belongings with each other and those less fortunately than themselves.
When the ceremony was over they did not exit the church to Mendelssohn, the way American couples do only to reassemble a few minutes later for pictures, leaving the guest to mill about awkwardly awaiting the next stage of the event. Nope. The bridal couple stayed at the front of the church as they were swallowed up by hugs and congratulations from family and friends, which turned into a prolonged photo shoot. After the usual pictures of bridal couple, their parents, attendants, etc., in turn each person in attendance was invited to the front of the church for pictures with the bride and groom! It was absolutely fabulous!

Finally, more than an hour after the ceremony was over people started to leave. Since the groom’s parents had hosted a pre-wedding fiesta last week, there was no wedding day reception. No cake cutting with the requisite face smear (which I personally detest!). No first dance -- (they took the floor for their ever so romantic solo dance at the fiesta). No toss of the bouquet. Yet it seemed all perfectly normal and complete.

And how blessed we feel to have been invited to be part of it.

Pura Vida

Saturday is feria day in Palmares. And after yesterday's disappointment with the San Ramon feria, today we were up early and ready to go - especially since we have a wedding to attend later.

While we're far from expert expats yet, we felt surprisingly at ease this time as we worked our way up and down the two aisles of vendors - commenting on prices, remembering which ones we had good experiences with last week, who had better prices on this or that. Our number skills are still pathetic, though, which continues to prove a challenge when it comes time to pay for items that are priced by weight. But we manage...and don't mind being the butt of the jokes and headshakes we surely leave in our wake.

Consistent with my pledge to try cooking with new foods whenever possible, we bought a few new veggies today: Choyote (which I believe we might have eaten in a soda yesterday) a red-skinned root that I think is related to the yucca, and a small yucca root.

We've had yucca a couple of times. Once was in a soup that our landlady gave us. The other time is was shredded and mixed in with a delicious tamal, a sweet baked masa. I think the red-skinned root and choyote may have also been in the landlady's soup, so I'm planning on trying something similar.

Milk, cheese, eggs and meat are all expensive here compared to the US, which is clearly why they are used more for flavor than for substance in Costa Rican cooking. Today we bought 1 kilo (2.2 lbs) of boneless skinless chicken breasts (~ $3.28 per pound) and about a pound of spicy chorizo ($1), which will be more than enough meat to get us through until next week's feria. All together we spend about 10,000 colones, or approximately $19 (US) for everything -- including the chicken and sausage and a kilo of large eggs (14 of them), for which we paid about $2.

A couple of things we found interesting: both the chicken and the chorizo vendors put on fresh gloves to handle the raw meat products. And the chorizo vendor held out a basket to receive our money so that he would not have to handle it. I presume that another person would have made change if that had been necessary. These are the kinds of things that give us confidence shopping and eating in this strange new world.

Pura Vida

We took the bus to San Ramon Friday to pick up a package from our mail forwarding service. While there, we figured we would check out the Friday afternoon feria, which we were told is better than the one in Palmares.

Clearly we did not think our timing through well and arrived at a little before 10 a.m. The feria didn't open until about 1:30. So what to do for 3 1/2 hours? For starters we visited a series of pharmacies, picked up one of hubby's meds and discovered that my lipid medication (Pravachol) can't be bought here. Oh dear... Another problem to be solved on another day.

Around noon we stopped at a tiny little soda (Mom & Pop cafe, except in this instance is was Mom and Two Daughters cafe.) It was a little hole in the wall place that gave me a moment's pause before entering, but turned out to be the perfect choice. When I asked if there was a menu, an English-speaking patron said there was none. She said they have fried chicken (okay, something we don't get often), rice, beans... the usual. So, hubby ordered that. In the meantime, Mom produced a laminated menu. Perfect! Especially since I really didn't want a whole big meal. I chose the "sandwich jamon & queso" (ham & cheese sandwich). Sorry, they don't have it. So I tried un hamberguesa. Nope. No sandwiches. By now I was getting the picture, so I ordered the chicken plate, but pequino (small).

No more chicken... okay, carne (meat) would be fine. I haven't had real good experience with Costa Rican beef, but by now I was willing to take the path of least resistance. My pequino plate turned out to be every bit as big as hubby's. And my carne turned out to be a beautifully fried (sorry arteries) pork chop. On the side we were served rice, black beans, mashed potatoes, plantains, a delicious diced vegetable that I think might have been choyote & a beet salad.

The ladies were cheerful, joking with us about our meager language skills, and they were clearly proud of the fine food they served - as well they should be. We paid the bill on our way out - 2000 colones, or about $4 - and left feeling good about our choice. On our way to the feria we passed numerous other restaurants, some small sodas and some "nicer" places, and were agreed that none of them would have been as satisfying as Mom's place.

The feria turned out to be a bust for us, as few of the vendors displayed their prices. One thing we've learned during our time in Costa Rica is that a gringo without espanol language skills is a sitting duck for being charged the "gringo tax" - an inflated price reserved just for people like us. So we looked around, bought some clearly priced Roma tomatoes (the first we've found!) from a little old lady with just a tiny display and decided to come back with our Tico friends and give it another try on another day.

After nearly 3 hours of walking we had just one more stop: the mail forwarding service. "Sorry," we were told. "The package won't be in until Saturday." (sigh & shrug) We have a wedding to attend on Saturday so we'll be back sometime next week -- after we call first to confirm that our package has indeed arrived!

In retrospect, this is pretty much the way our life here goes. A few successes intermixed with a few challenges that give us something to do on another day after we rest our tired legs and feet.

Pura Vida

What We Miss the Most

A friend asked in an email what we miss the most now that we've been here a while. I suppose that in time we may miss things like Costco pizza (the pizza here is great, but not quite a match for Costco :) - or maybe American-style Mexican food.... Time will tell. Right now, though, we're missing some basic conveniences that simply did not fit into our four pieces of checked luggage and four carry-ons...

Things we wish we had been able to bring with us:

A hammer, nails, screwdriver, and screws
Gardening tools
Rototiller
Pillows --- LOTS of pillows
Pressure cooker
A toaster oven --- any kind of oven, for that matter
Auxiliary speakers for the computers/Ipod
More music
More videos
Lamps
More plastic containers to hold stored foods, leftovers, and "stuff"
A bigger blanket
A large cooking pot
A comfortable sofa
A clothes washer
More sheets

Clearly some of these are on our priority shopping list. Still, forking over money for things we already own (some in duplicate & triplicate) -- and will be shipping here in a few short months -- is a hard pill to swallow.

This much is certain... We wouldn't mind having a Home Depot or Lowes right down the street. And a 99ȼ Store wouldn't be bad either!

Nearly 3 weeks have passed since we arrived in Costa Rica and we're just now finding the time and means to post an update.

Aside from a whirlwind of tasks to be tended to, like finding an apartment, getting a telephone and Internet, and signing up for a mail-forwarding service so that we can receive mail and packages from the States, there's been the inconvenience of trekking to an Internet cafe for email and brief Facebook postings to let friends and family know we're still alive and well.


This is the kitchen of our log cabin apartment.

We did hit a sizeable speed bump a few days after our arrival when one of our bags was stolen on the bus from Alajuela to Palmares. With our laptops safely tucked into the backpacks we kept with us in our seats, we had to stow our two other bags on the shelf above the seats. We were well aware of the risks of doing so, but you've got to do what you've got to do on a crowded bus. And so we paid the price when we lost our new cell phone, my jewelry, and some important papers.

Our friends in Palmares were shocked that it happened on "their" bus because this is a quiet, reasonably safe, crime-free little hamlet. We assured them that it could - and does - happen everywhere.... even in the good old U.S. of A. The important thing is that we will be able to reconstruct most of the papers and the rest is just stuff... granted several hundred dollars worth of stuff, but still replaceable.


With most of that now resolved, we are settling into a pleasant, comfortable routine. Our apartment is located in a somewhat rural district (comun) of Palmares, Alajuela. To get to town, we can choose to walk the distance of a little more than a mile or catch the bus, which stops directly in front of our property every hour from 5:30 am until about 10 pm. The bus is easy and a lifesaver when it's raining, but the hilly terrain makes for great exercise, so we usually choose to hoof-it.

We've been trying to buy most of our produce at the weekly feria (farmers market) because it is grown by local farmers and comes at unbelievably low prices. But with a small (by U.S. standards) refrigerator and an equally small amount of cupboard space, we find ourselves making frequent trips to the market in town for other groceries, to the pharmacy (farmacia), hardware store (ferreteria), etc.



The photo above is what we bought last week for a whopping $19! The flower bouquet was a hostess gift for a pre-wedding fiesta we attended last Saturday at our friends' home. It cost us $1.85! With prices like that, we've agreed that we will have fresh flowers often.

And at least once a week we hop on a bus and explore a nearby town.



This is inside the church in Sarchi.

Clearly and most importantly, we are reminded daily of the value of good friends. Without the help of our Tico friends our first weeks here would surely have crossed the line from somewhat overwhelming to nearly catastrophic. We'll never be able to repay them their kindness and generosity... but then we're learning that such is the nature of these warm people. And so we can say with conviction that we're happy we started this adventure and look forward to what is yet to come. After all... look at the view we wake up to every morning.