Costa Rica -- Day Six

After breakfast, our day began with the zip line/canopy tour.

11 different zip lines, 2 rappelling stations, and one Tarzan swing -- which I did not partake of.

 (Paul says this is my you-fucker-I'm-gonna-get-you-while-you-sleep look.

I didn't know I had that look.

Did you?)

 (he had so much fun!)

 After the almost-two-hour adrenaline rush, we went to check out our land again and found our first squatter. :)

 (more views from our lot)

Then we had lunch in town and came back to our hotel, which I haven't shown you yet, so here you are:

 (view coming downstairs from the recepcion)

(the building on the other side of the delicious pool is the restaurant/bar)

We hung around and rested from the excitement of the morning. I read on the patio off our room and Paul wrote a skit for No Shame. Then we had dinner and treated ourselves to Pina Flambee. OMG.

 (This is our favorite waiter, Olman.)

 (here he has set the liquor on fire, turned the lights out and pours the liquor back and forth to mix the two -- brandy and triple sec -- in two different pitchers.)

(it's super rich and to die for)

Yum.

Costa Rica -- Day Five

(my favorite thing I've seen here so far)

It has been noted by one of my readers (how cool does that sound?!) that I haven't written about any of the people or wildlife here. At the hotel I see very little accurate representation of either. The people at Cristel Ballena smile and laugh and are extremely gracious -- but that could be because they're paid to be. :)

And the 'wildlife' here at the hotel mostly consists of butterflies, hawks in the distance that ride the thermals in spirals, and this really cool spider I saw today. Also, an occasional little lizard that looks like the sticky lizard toys my son used to throw at the wall.

Yesterday on the property we saw an animal meander across the road called a pizote. It's kind of a racoonish animal with a longer snout and bigger everywhere. And I've heard howler and congo monkeys in the distant jungle around the hotel.

So, sorry to disappoint on the wildlife aspect. :) Though up in the mountains and earlier in the morning -- like 5:30am -- I've heard that the monkeys and macaws come to life and make a delightful racket. I'm looking forward to hearing them. But that will have to wait until I move here, as I don't anticipate being up in the jungle at 5:30 in the morning within the next four days.

We met with Jorge, a local realtor, who is so super nice that I feel guilty not buying anything from him. I almost want to pay him some commission just for the amount of information he's given us. He's given us names of some reputable real estate lawyers in San Jose, he's taking us to the bank on Friday and translating for us so we can get a construction loan (or at least the pre-approval process started.) And he's also given us specific things to ask the developer for, such as: do you have the water concession already? are the lots already separated and can I get a legal copy of the plan to take to the bank?

Jorge's just awesome. He works for Century 21 right now and has been a realtor for many years and lived in a handful of towns around this area. His English is charming and says a long drawn out "A" while thinking of his next word -- like a monotone Fonzie.

He's in the process of starting a sports bar for the tourists in a couple of months. He's going tomorrow to buy "four big screen TVs, plasma." He told us three times. :)

He's generally interested in how things go with Osa Mountain Village and wants us to keep in touch. he admires the concept and approach of OMV and says they are pioneers. That this concept they have hasn't been done in all of Central America, he thinks.

Today we were stopped by the policia (for the third time this trip, btw. The first two times was because they were looking for someone ... one officer even had a rifle. We had to show our passports.) I'm not sure why we were stopped today. The officer's motorcycle was parked on the side of the road, and he stood a little into the highway. He walked towards our oncoming car and waved his hand for us to stop. We did.

"Buenos Dias," we say. 

"Buenos Dias. Como esta?" 

"Fine," we answer in English, cluing him in that we didn't really speak Spanish. Though I'm sure he could tell by our accents.

"Habla espanol?"

"No."

"License?"

I handed him my passport and I fished out my driver's license, too. 

It turns out in Costa Rica it costs $400 (as in US Dollars) if you are not wearing your seat belt.

Paul. Paul. Paul.

I always wear my seat belt.

Always.

Through very bad Spanish and English on both our parts (the police officer and us), we discover that the way it works is this: he writes a ticket, we take it to a bank and pay it there.

"Ok," I said, a bit haggard. I'd even pulled out the cash I had on me to both show him that I didn't have $400 (in case he required the $ then -- that's when I found out about the bank), and also to make it available to him in case he decided to not write the ticket. If you know what I mean.

When Paul finally handed him his passport, the police officer asked if we were on vacation. (Paul caught that, I didn't understand it.)

"Yes. Yes. On vacation."

"Ok," and he flicked his hand. "No ticket."

"No ticket?! Thanks!"

"No ticket. Ok." And he stepped back.

And we left -- with Paul's safety belt on.

We continued our search for an open restaurant. It was lunchtime and after a couple of misses, we found a nice open air on on a hill with views of the ocean. The waitress didn't speak English and we'd left our dictionary behind. Two only-Spanish speaking people in one day. Not that I'm surprised that people speak Spanish in Costa Rica, but I guess I'd fallen into a false sense of complacency due to every other person I'd spoken to up to today had spoken English.

But we do fine with pointing and asking for Coca and aqua.

And the newest news: Paul talked me into going on the zipline with him tomorrow morning.

Fuck.

After lunch, we tried to find one of the beaches here. Playa Tortuga (Turtle Beach) didn't work. We found it alright but the tide was in so there was hardly room to walk between the water and piles of driftwood, let alone lay down. So we opted to go back to the pool and try to find the other recommended beach tomorrow -- after talking with Gary and going on the zip line.

We saw the entrance to it, though, on the way back to the hotel, so I spontaneously swung in.

I haven't yet mentioned the state of the roads here.

We were warned by our friends, Dr. Matt and Robbin Freedman about those roads. But when we got here, the highway was perfect. Ok, there were three potholes in a section of the highway that I've driven back and forth on since we've been here, and , it's true that when you turn off the highway and drive into the teeny towns, you will experience a bumpy ride, and I've had to shift into first gear to get up the road to OMV. But the road to this beach ...

(this looks deceptively easy)

Well. It just wasn't passable for a couple of tourists like us. At least with Paul in the car. :) (His lunch hadn't agreed with him.) So we turned around -- which was educational all by itself.

We laughed at ourselves all the way back to the hotel.

It started to rain on the way. Sigh.

Paul went and laid down and to check if any emails came back from the builder or Jim. I went to the pool, dammit, despite the clouds and drizzle. Because it was still in the 80's! It's the rain forest, doncha know! :)

Olman, my awesome waiter, helped me open a pedestal umbrella over my deck chair and brought me a pina colada. (I'm having one for you, Robbin!)

Does anyone actually know the next line of the song: "...if you like pina coladas, and dancing in the rain...."? That's all I ever hear anyone sing. It's a famous line, to be sure, but I don't even know who the singer is, or if it has any other lyrics. !!! LOL

The rain has stopped. It's not hot at all. The sun is taking a break and only shining silvery on the ocean which I can see from the pool side. Perhaps I'll hang my feet over the edge of the pool while I read my book.

Costa Rica -- Day Four

(the view from the tarzan swing on the property)

Just back from the property again. We met Jim Gale, a couple (Robin and Lea) that have already moved here, and had lunch in the nearby town of Ojochal.

I'm sitting by the pool in humid 80 degree weather with a slight breeze. I've left my camera at the room and now, of course, wish that I haven't. I see my strawberry daquiri approaching, so all is well. :) My towel is coming soon so I can slip into this delicious-looking swimming pool. I'm not a huge fan of swimming pools -- I don't begrudge or discourage them for others, but I don't swim gracefully and without effort, so I've never seen much use for one personally. A couple of feet of water to wade in or sit in socially to keep cool in the summer -- sure. But, like, swimming laps? I can't really do that. I'm more of a: keep-my-head-above-water-after-I've-fallen-out-of-the-boat kind of swimmer. But this pool looks divine and I so want to share it with you. Thus, the missed camera. Perhaps another day.

On the Costa Rican adventure -- I think we're sold. After meeting Jim Gale, we shifted our original villa idea to purchasing a home lot. Because the value of our homes in Oregon dropped along with the housing market, we have far less money to purchase property with. 

With the purchase of a villa, you also received shares in the company (that collects rents from the tourists staying on the property, among other things) -- but no actual deed. So, no bank would lend money on it. It needed to be purchased free and clear. 

With a homesite, however, we can get a bank loan for the construction of the house. (We can buy the land using a loan off Paul's 401K and a line of credit off our Albany rental.) Plus, our line of thinking was corrected today on the case of building a home here. We assumed we wouldn't be able to afford both a plot of land and building a house on it. In the States, that could easily run us $350,000. Here, you can build a nice three bedroom house for $57 - 80K. The labor costs are considerably less expensive.

Jim's wife built their house here (she was the general contractor) for $57,000. Jim's invited us to go and see their home on Sunday on our way out of town. So, we'll see how much house $57K can buy. :) Our's would be closer to $80K because we'd have to hire a contractor instead of doing it ourselves, and it'll cost more to truck the supplies in. Osa Mountain Village isn't on the highway; it's quite a haul up the mountain and getting a truck there will, frankly, cost more.

Looking at the property again today -- with more of a focus on home lots -- I admit, I shifted out of if we decide to move here, to I really want to move here. I don't know if it was: considering the benefits of a home lot to a villa (like: we'd get to keep our dogs with a fenced yard), Jim's extra energy and excitement about the place, or if it was the amazing sob-inducing views from the lots -- but I did find myself tearing up.

Wow.

Can you imagine? Living an expat life, in dream jobs, with like-minded people, off the grid, growing and raising all your own food (oh! I found out they'll have pigs for food and goats for dairy on the property, too!), and having a loving, accepting community around us from the start?!

Ok. That last one was wishful thinking, but I'm calling it "manifestation" instead. I'm visualizing into being.

I was worried about the schooling for the kids, but the teacher they'll have on site will be a lovely substitute for a Spanish-only speaking high school. It'll be kind of like homeschooling/HomeSource, but not. And if they want to go to the public high school, we'd be happy to take them. Jim also said that if we had any schooling ideas, the parents had a ton of say in what and how the teacher taught. If I find a Waldorf school high school curriculum for Aubrey, for instance, I can have the teacher use that to the best of her ability. If Aubrey wants to learn Japanese, she can be supervised by the teacher there. Giving the kids the choice between the two schools will give them some sense of control.

And ultimately, though I hate to play this trump card because it feels so righteously unfair -- we are the parents. We can make this choice whether the kids are on board, or not.

But the stance I think I'll take against their opposition -- which might not happen, but I'm thinking it will -- is this:  This is our dream. Mine and Paul's. We really want to do this. We understand that this quite probably isn't Aubrey and Robert's dream -- though it could become so -- and when they are 18, they can go and live their dream. And we'll totally support them 100% of the way in whatever capacity we can. And we think this move will give them the courage to go and live those dreams. 

Because they saw their parents do it.

(Paul keeps telling me there's something wrong with the glasses that keep coming from the bar. The pina coladas keep emptying too quickly -- there must be a hole in them.)

Tomorrow we'll meet with a local realtor (the one from the other day) and see if plots of land in the less-than-quarter-of-an-acre, distant ocean view and 300 degree mountain and jungle views go for $110K around here. 'Cuz that's what Jim is selling our favorite of his lots at.  (Then we'll hit a beach or two in the afternoon.)

 (view from our favorite lot)

 (the lot we want)

On Thursday we're meeting with Gary, the builder for Osa Mountain Village (but we could use anymore we wanted), to talk about plans and permits, etc.

If we bought the land before we left, or shortly after we got home (after having a real estate lawyer look over the papers) and got the building of the house started right away (after securing a construction loan, of course), we could have a rentable house by the summertime.

We'd go up and see the construction at least once during the building probably, and then Paul wants the family to stay in it first, before we rent it out to any tourists.

We'll have to furnish it, too. Hmm.

We've also been talking to Jim about the ice cream shop idea. That is an excellent business that could be run without us here that would generate income for us now. We could have two locations for the shop. One up the mountain for the people getting off the zip line tours. ("Whoo-eee! I just flew down a mountain! I need me some ice cream!") And one on the highway where the Osa Mountain Village office is.

It costs about $350 to get a limited corporation here, and then Jim would provide the locations for us, so it would be simple and easy to get it started. We'd hire a local person to serve the public and collect the monies. And a really nice wage around here is $500/month (taxes included). Sounds easy enough to me.

Now all we have to do is make up some upscale recipes -- using local ingredients, of course: coconut, mango, etc., try them out and buy the equipment to make it with. And the freezers to keep it cold. :)

Stay tuned to hear about whether this is a good local deal, and if the beaches are, in fact, awesome here. :)

Pura Vida!

Costa Rica -- Day Two and Three are a blur

"... and we're driving, in my car ... " ~lyrics from a Cake song


Jesus! We've done so much driving in the last two days.

We landed in San Jose, Costa Rica on Sunday afternoon, found our rental car company, rode in the shuttle van to the office, and I drove out in a manual four-wheel-drive SUV. (It's been fun using a stick shift again ... which reminds me of another Cake song ... )

(following a plantain truck on the new road to Caldera)

We drove from San Jose west to the Pacific coast, and then south down to Uvita. Osa Mountain Village was supposed to have housed us in one of their villas while we were there, but the villa wasn't ready yet -- I think the rainy season slowed down construction a little bit. They found an awesome place for us to stay though: Cristel Ballena. One of the admin/sales people from Osa Mountain Village emailed me and asked me if it was ok to reserve this space for us. It looked way too beautiful to be in our budget, but when I asked him, it turned out to be less than it would've been if we'd stayed in the rental villa. So I confirmed the reservation through the Osa Mountain Villa dude. (Can you hear the foreshadowing?)

We reached Uvita in about three hours of driving from the airport. It gets dark early here, so at 5:30 p.m. we are driving slow, trying to find the entrance off the highway. We find it, we drive up the long driveway, park the rental rig, drag our sweaty, stinky, travel-worn, haven't seen a shower in 36 hours asses into the recepcion and. find. it. full.

At this point we are ready to sleep in our car, we just want a shower and brush our teeth, maybe some food.

We explain the situation. They explain the situation.

Apparently there was a reservation, but they had no credit card info or contact info to hold the room. They held the room until 4pm with a family waiting in the restaurant just in case we didn't show. So they finally released the room to them.

I would've done the same thing.

They were so gracious. So accommodating. Totally bent over backwards so far I'm still feeling guilty for it. See, they have this spa. It's a lovely suite of rooms that has a waiting area, a huge bathroom, a massage area, a place for other spa-like treatments, and a manicure station. And then called someone up at 6pm to come into that room, shove everything in there up in a corner behind a curtain, and bring a king size bed in.

We are mortified at all the effort put into this. But our evening is marvelous. We were given complimentary drinks while we waited for the manager (who also came in special to talk with us), had dinner in the restaurant and had a delightful waiter who made us pineapple flambee in the dark (!!!), showered for many hours (not really), had a romp in the king-size bed (!!!) and slept forever.

The next morning, well-rested, we had a complimentary breakfast (it comes with price of the room -- which is only $67/night!).

(the view from our breakfast table)

(this is Paul-well-rested) <3

After breakfast, we drove into Uvita and found a realtor to chit-chat with. We talked about different locations, which towns he recommended living in, schools, and factors and tips to consider if we decided to move here. Then we drove down to the Osa Mountain Village office and met up with Ricardo. He's the sales guy/realtor for OMV. We talked to Glenn, who is designing all the greenhouse verticle growing systems for the village. It's way high-tech and super simple at the same time. And then Ricardo hopped in our rental 4x4 and we rode up the mountain in first gear (the road's still unpaved) to see the property and the building sites.

 (a ginormous mango tree)

 (a pineapple growing wild on the property)

(Ricardo let one of the workers know that he was low on plaintains and when we were done with the tour, we found these by the SUV, waiting for him.)

The goal for the food production at OMV is to be able to grow all the community's food. Whenever you need something, it will be available for you. There will be a "market" on the property, but when you "shop", you just collect what you need with no money changing hands. Your $150/month in "fees" covers all the food your family can use.

(the first set of villas in construction)

 (This villa is a four bedroom unit.)

(The site for the community center.)

(Ricardo is cutting up a citrus fruit for us to taste -- it tasted a bit like grapefruit to me.)

(one of the zip lines on the property)

(the start of a small nursery ... plantings will be provided for any resident that wants to grow something in their yard.)

(a mango tree that sprouted up in the middle of the road)

(a tiny chicken coop ... for the time being. chicken will be one of the foods OMV will provide for its residents.)

(a "marker" for future tilapia ponds -- another food provided)

(building materials that now stand in the future location of a big tilapia pond that will house mature fish ready to be caught and eaten. any resident is welcome to go fish and catch dinner!)

After the tour, we drove into a couple of the neighboring towns and Ricardo showed us a bakery one of the community residents owns, a few supermarkets, the place where the farmers/saturday market is held and introduced us to an American woman that opened a private elementary school in Uvita. Then we went out to lunch.

We're meeting up with the landowner, Jim Gale, tomorrow and will check out Dominical -- a town close by that supposed to have some night life. Hmm. We shall see. Also, I bet we check out some beaches tomorrow, too.

With thoughts of starting up businesses like coconut ice cream shops, bookstores and yoga studios, I am ready to slip into bed next to Paul -- who has been sleeping for an hour and half.

Our only real concerns so far have been: the kids being bored. Sure there's zip lines and waterfall rappelling (cool! maybe we'll run that business, too!) and having your own machete to harvest bananas whenever you want them, but what about going to a Spanish high school where you can barely speak the language?

Maybe we can bribe them with their own personal lap-tops and Skype accounts ....

Anyway, bedtime.

Pike's Place Market

The search for rice milk for Paul's coffee led us past 8 Starbucks, two independent coffee houses, a Seattle's Best and landed us in Seattle Works. Hands down awesome. I even charged my cell phone that will be un-useful soon enough.

We fly all night and land in Miami tomorrow morning. One more use right before we board the plane to Costa Rica to check in with the kids before the phone working ceases for the duration of our trip.

We have an almost ten hour layover in Seattle, so Paul and I took the train (electric, btw) to Pike Place Market. A nine-acre conglomerate of historic buildings, indoor markets, outdoor markets, vendors, farmer's markets and artisans. And food.

And flower markets. (Gorgeous! I've never seen such brilliant and huge blooms.) And O.M.G.-How-Hilarious-There-Are-So-Many-Coffee-Shops. Seattle is definitely the birth of the coffee shop.

I've found AMAZING handmade journals that I really want to go back for, but we haven't even left the country!! Part of me wants to wait until Costa Rica before I buy handmade art, but another part demands I go back and support the local artists here! :) See how I'm trying to rationalize?

There was a burgundy buffalo hide, handmade cotton paper journal with black leather binding that I was particularly drawn to.

Sigh.


Here's me being responsible and not going back to buy it. If Paul asks me if I want to -- I don't think I'll be able to withstand it. I'll break under the power of suggestion.

We found Indian food at a food cart and walked down to the waterfront to eat lunch and listened to an Asian busker playing a string instrument I didn't know the name of.

Paul is holding my hand and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles while he reads his novel and I've finished my 2nd latte today (it is Seattle after all) and listening to Ingrid Michaelson over the cafe's sound system.

We've found ourselves browsing in an anarchist bookstore, Seattle's own Left Bank Collective, and watching (with tipping some) buskers that ranged from guitarists covering Monkees and Beatles favorites, an organ player, awesome gospel singers, a banjo player, and one guy that played guitar, sand, blew on a harmonica and kept a hoola-hoop up all at the same time.

We read in cafes, took photos, talked about the type of city architecture that Paul misses from New York and bought applesauce bread and oatmeal raison cookies from a gluten-free bakery called Cinnamon Works.

A walk to the other side of downtown revealed the Science Fiction Museum Hall of Fame, and the Experience Music Project entrance fee to be $15 a piece, and closure in a half an hour. We opted not.

"I've been to Seattle a few times now and never been to the Space Needle," Paul said.
"Well, let's go then."

We get so far as taking pictures of ourselves outside of it, but don't actually ride up it. I don't actually mind this as it seems uber-touristy (which I don't want to be) and I'm slightly nervous of high places, which is code for:

"Shrek! I'm lookin' down!"

But I was trying to gird myself up for the canopy tour/zip line that we'll undoubtedly do at Osa Mountain Village.

I'm resting now in Seattle Center's Food Court that looks and feels (and therefore is) a depressing facsimile of a mall, but without the shops. And in a few minutes we will go in search of a real Chinese food restaurant and then to the airport for another round of security and waiting for our flight.

My Wheels are Spinning

Paul says my wheels are spinning. They are. I'm obsessing about something and I've been purposely not posting on my blog about this because I didn't want to upset anyone, but part of my draw to this thing I haven't been posting about, is that it would give me a whole new market of people to write to. To sell to. To build audience and platform for. So I'll just write it now. Possible side effects for the reader have been noted.

You've been warned.

Before I start explaining, I should say here (as purely a reminder for myself so I don't get lost in the edginess I'll feel writing this post) that:

Whatever's meant to be, will happen. We will land right where we are supposed to.


So. Now that that message is plastered to my psyche's bathroom mirror, I shall continue.

We've long wanted Paul at home with us. He works many hours away from home and all of our relationships suffer for it. The children forget to consider him, I (on bad days) feel like a single parent, and Paul is lonely and misses his family. And we all miss him. The children beg for family game nights and one-on-one time with Paul and I, and with Aubrey turning twelve earlier this week, Paul and I worry that the window of time when the kids will want to connect with us may be closing up and we don't want that to happen. Or if it has to -- like some child psychology books say-- we want to be prepared for it with lots of loving quality bonding time under our belts, to stay the execution of us, as parents, on pedestals. Fuck. Us, as human beings.

I remember as a teenager thinking my mom was afraid and cornered and didn't understand. And that was with a good relationship with her. I had a non-commital relationship with my dad. He was just there around the fringes. ( I don't want that kind of relationship for Paul and our kids.) Imagine how I would have felt if I'd had a bad relationship with my parents.

So it is against this that Paul and I want to secure ourselves. And we think the best way to do this is by him being home more. We can't do this if he's at his current job, with us living in our current house, with the current state of our budget (like we have one) and our bills. So, Let's get creative.

On a previous post, I spoke about selling this place and buying a smaller home in Eugene. We figure the mortgage would be a smaller sum, or non-existant, if we move our assets around judiciously. Without a mortgage payment, we could wrangle ourselves into living off my income -- freeing up Paul to open up his own business, buy an existing one, or working part time at .... Blockbuster. :)

Sounds good, right?

Enter Scary, Exciting, Life-Altering, Alternative Plan.

We move to Costa Rica.



We've been researching for months now and have been in contact with a land developer from the States that's moved there full-time and married one of the locals. It would cost us $150/month to feed our family of four. Homegrown, organic food. All living expenses wouldn't exceed ... $1300/month? We wouldn't hardly have to work. Though without the competition, we could open our own bookstore and coffee shop that most certainly wouldn't thrive here in Eugene.

So, a cool kick-ass job for Paul (one he owned), I'd still get to write as my chosen profession and Paul would be home. We'd finally get to hang out as a family on the weekends! Something we've never been able to do because of the industry Paul works in. And we'd get to do it all in a paradise Southern Pacific Costa Rican location. With waterfalls, wild animals, zip lines, river rafting, canopy tours, and jungle.

We'd live in a sustainable community that grows and raises 80% of their own food, and would be off the grid within three years. That in and of itself is dear to my heart.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QCXGUL9cP3gOsa Mountain Village video

But.
I love Eugene.
I love the communities we've been a part of, or still are.
I love the friends I've made and the connections that are still very dear to me.
I don't make friends very easily. (Maybe the universe is giving me the opportunity to get better at this.)
I live a unique and alternative lifestyle/sexuality that may not be accepted in the Osa Mountain Village community, whereas I am (and it is) here in Eugene.

And that brings me to my relationships. I have a couple of long-distance ones that wouldn't technically be altered by my moving, but -- but -- somehow I fear that by living out of the country I wouldn't see them as often. Which is silly, really. And most likely inaccurate.

I worry about the kids' friendships and connections, and their school experience. I worry about Robert's special needs being met.

I lose my writing community.
And what would we do with our dogs?! :( Most likely we couldn't keep them.

And there's so much more to think about .... it's flooding my brain.

But, I'll stop here. Paul and I are going to Costa Rica on a "vacation" to scout out the area and see if the village is compatible with our dream. So we shall see. Most likely we will be making a decision over there, and I will be able to come home and tell you what we've come up with.

We'll return the last week of October.

Wish us .... Clarity.

:)