Our Pacifico Condo

The "River Pool" at Pacifico

Welcome to our Pacifico Penthouse in Paradise. The purpose of this blog entry is to introduce our home to those in Costa Rica or elsewhere who may be interested in a home exchange for a week or more.  For more information about this gated community along with tons of photos, videos and descriptions go to www.Pacifico-CostaRica.com .  There you can see the buildings, grounds and amenities that make living here so special.

We are in Playas del Coco, a very small town on the Northwest coast of Costa Rica where the beach is protected by the Pappagallo Peninsula.  A village where fishing and tourism are king, Coco boasts one main street lined with restaurants, bars and souvenir shops.  This is one of the few coastal villages in the Guanacaste province that offer amenities such as banks, grocery stores, and a wide array of professional services. In addition, there are numerous adventure trips for fishing, diving, zip lining, hiking, and sight seeing...just to name a few.

We enjoy a 1,200 sq/ft top floor unit with central air conditioning, one bedroom, one large bathroom with walk-in closet and a washer/dryer included.  The kitchen is fully equipped with granite countertops, a center island/breakfast bar, side-by-side refrigerator/freezer, glass top stove, microwave, dish washer, disposal, clothes washer & dryer and loads of cabinet space.  With the cookware and accessories in our kitchen, a gourmet chef would feel right at home.

There are flatscreen TV's with DVD players in the living room and bedroom and the unit includes a high speed, secure WiFi internet connection.

The extra large balcony includes a stainless steel barbeque grill, dining table and 4 chairs, and a complete living room set of love seat, 2 large matching chairs, coffee table and end tables along with indirect lighting to maximize your outdoor night time living and entertaining.

As you can see from the Pacifico website ( www.Pacifico-CostaRica.com ), the amenities are truly 5 star quality and the 24/7 security is the best around.  The pools and landscaping on the grounds are incredibly beautiful and the Pacifico Beach Club is directly on the ocean with 2 pools, a gymnasium and fabulous restaurant and bar which features live entertainment on weekends.

Playas del Coco is only 25 minutes from the Daniel Oduber International Airport (LIR) just west of the city of Liberia, Costa Rica.  For inquiries regarding a possible home exchange please email us with information about your situation at: email4Jim@Yahoo.com.

The View from our Balcony

Outdoor Living Room

Outdoor "Kitchen" and Dining Table

Living Room

Living Room

Breakfast Bar

Kitchen

Bathroom

Bedroom

Computer Workstation

Geri's Rainbow

Balcony Dining Table

Balcony Living Area

Are You Smarter than a Groundhog?

The question in that headline is one I’ve been asking myself for over 2 long years.  Sadly, my answer has been a resounding NO.  That’s right, a big fat NO…NO How…NO way…in capital letters.

This sorrowful saga actually began over five years ago, immediately upon moving into our North Carolina home on a wooded mountainside in south Asheville.  It was while we were still unpacking that Geri first noticed not one, but two, fat and playful groundhogs peeking around the corner of our front deck.

As most people know, a groundhog and a woodchuck are one and the same…thus the names Geri bestowed upon them…Chuckie I and Chuckie II.  She thought they were cute and truly entertaining as they (in Geri’s parlance) “played hide and seek” with her throughout the day.  It was, however, an opinion which would prove to be quickly reversible as this pair of critters began wreaking havoc with all things green and rooted in soil.

As it turns out, groundhogs are seriously destructive.  Not only do they have an insatiable appetite for all varieties of vegetation, potted plants, and whatever grows in a garden, they can quickly undermine the structural integrity of a building by burrowing large, lengthy tunnels and cavernous spaces under the concrete slab upon which the building sits.  It was this latter practice which brought about my declaration of war.  A war that spanned 2 plus years …a battle of wits which I am ashamed to admit I lost repeatedly no matter the sophistication of my strategies nor the technical ingenuity of my tactics.

With cunning calculus I attempted to ward off both Chuckies by creating an annoying environment.  I mounted a wind chime at the entrance to their cave under our foundation.  I created other noise making devices hoping the unpleasantness of their surroundings would drive them away in search of a more peaceful abode.  I tried introducing mothballs to their cozy environs with the hope if noise did not repel them, unnatural odors might.

When those methods, among others,  failed, I labored ceaselessly to construct barriers designed to preclude entrance to the underside of my home‘s foundation.  With each contrivance more elaborate than its predecessor, my frustration grew as time after time I consistently suffered defeat at their paws of persistence.  

Driven nearly to distraction by the two Chuckies, I could not accept that I was being habitually outsmarted by these demons of destruction.  My sanity was becoming fragile and my mental health was at stake.  I had to find a way to defeat them.  I was becoming completely obsessed and could think of little else.  When I could sleep, I even dreamed of the ongoing battle and how I might one day outsmart these destructive monsters.

Finally, I stumbled upon the idea of employing a live animal trap…a heavy duty wire cage, baited with food to attract the offending animal, and equipped with a trap door that quickly shuts and locks once the animal steps inside to retrieve the food.  Once captured, the animal can be relocated unharmed to a habitat well away from the site of their original malfeasance.  Problem solved!  Simple….right?  Not so much.

OK, it’s true that getting Chuckie #1 into the trap and relocated was a piece of cake.  I’ll admit that my success only hours after purchasing and staging the Hav-a-hart trap rendered me smug.  I was gloating in the glory of my victory.  Now all I had to do was get set for a repeat performance and…bingo.  Chuckie no mas!!!

Little did I know that the second Chuckie’s observation of my capturing Chuckie #1 would have a lasting and profound effect on #2.  What I thought would be a simple matter turned out to be a series of vexations that would make the trials and tribulations of the preceding two years seem like child’s play.  My attempts to get Chuckie #2 out of the picture began one of my most harrowing experiences to date.  Indeed, this ordeal may have been most frustrating experience of my entire life.

Satisfied that the Hav-a-hart trap was my best strategy for the ensuing war, I tried for weeks to entice Chuckie #2 to take the bait.  But NO !!! There was absolutely, positively nothing that would do the trick.  I could have put a winning lottery ticket in there…a certificate for an all expenses paid trip to Woodchuck Wonder World… fresh fruits and scrumptious veggies…nothing worked.  He had been sensitized and he was not to be seduced.  With each ensuing failure, I began to fear the mounting evidence was clear.  I could not outsmart Chuckie II.  The damage to my psyche was indescribable.  My feelings of inferiority were so profound, I would have sought psychiatric help had my deductible not been so outrageously high as to make my health insurance policy useless.

So, I had no choice.  I had to regroup.  I had to think.  Surely this little…OK, not so little… good for nothing plant pilfering, foundation fouling, obnoxious, intellectually infuriating beast could not get the best of me ad infinitum…could he?!?!

Mustering all my mental resources, I realized I had to DE-SENSITIZE Chuckie II regarding the food baited trap.  Thus began my program of placing enticing food, not in, but in the area and well away from the cage.  Gradually, the food was placed closer, then still closer until Chuckie decided there was no harm associated with getting close to the trap.

With persistence that surpasses the dedication to complete a Ph.D. in nuclear physics, I eventually got my boy Chuckie to eat from the top, the front, and the rear of this now familiar, do-nothing cage.  The door, after all, had been kept shut during these days-upon-days of “training”.

At last, I fixed the door to the trap in the open position, but secured it so Chuckie could not trigger it when he finally entered the cage to receive his reward.  Once he was comfortable coming inside and experiencing no negative consequences, the day had arrived to allow the door to slam shut.

It was, perhaps, one of the crowning glories and most major achievements of my life to date when I heard the bang of the Hav-a-hart trap door securing Chuckie II for his ride to his new home, miles away on the other side of the French Broad River where, with his mamouth mental skills, he would surely find his pal, Chuckie I, in short order.  And for me, I could, for the first time in a long, long time, retire for the evening secure in the knowledge that I was…smarter than a groundhog.  Glory Be!!!

Why I’m Not Writing a Blog for August

I’ve heard from a few of you now, asking if I’ve given up posting blog entries.  The answer is:  I’m not sure, but, I am going to tell you why I’m not writing my blog for this month.

You see, we’ve been way too busy for me to sit down and blog away.  Too busy to even think up a topic about which to blog.  First of all, there’s been that baseball thing.  Yes, I’ll admit I finally got bit by the baseball bug and it left an indelible mark on my psyche.  Kind of like a tattoo on the grey matter, perhaps in the shape of a diamond with a striking resemblance to a ball.

Anyway, until last summer, I could not even spell baseball…unsure whether it was one word or two.  Then, as fate would have it, we decided we should at least put in a token appearance for our hometown Asheville Tourists Class A minor league affiliate of the Colorado Rockies Major League Team.  I figured while they were busy trying to hit and run, I could guzzle beer and eat peanuts to pass the time.

But, much to my amazement, I discovered there is a reason that hundreds of millions of people around the world are enthusiasts of the game.  I became as hooked as a large mouth bass on a hand tied fly in calm waters at the break of dawn.  I became a fan.

So, as those of you who know me best can clearly attest, I don’t normally get into things in a small way.  My response to my new interest in baseball was to purchase front row, box seats for the entire 2011 season right beside the on-deck batter’s circle with a clear view directly into the dugout just whispering distance away.

Now, the benefit of this vantage point is that we are close enough to the players to count the beads of sweat dripping from their foreheads.  We can see the determination in the set of their jaws, the hope in their eyes and the power in the muscles of their forearms as they flail the bat through their practice swings.

There are undoubtedly better views of the action on the field providing an overall perspective of the game.  But, seeing those faces up close and getting to know the personalities beneath the uniforms is a captivating aspect of the game that no grand, overall view can provide.

And, furthermore, our seats were in the “family section” where the visiting mothers, fathers, brothers, cousins and other relatives of the players are assigned to sit.  So, over the course of the season, we became acquainted with many of the players’ family members who traveled to Asheville from all over the US and Puerto Rico to see their pride and joy play baseball at the professional level.  For them, it was perhaps the thrill of a lifetime.  For us, just the pleasure of getting to know these people, in this exciting arena, where everyone present is feeling the buzz, where everyone is happy and in a great mood…this unique pleasure of becoming personally acquainted with these folks was an aspect of the game that most people in the stadium never know anything about.

Now, if you are wondering what this tangent has to do with not writing a blog this month, I offer the following explanation.  Professional minor league baseball teams play nearly every day or night of the season.  There are only a handful of days or nights that the team has off.  During the season between April and the end of August there are 140 games, 70 of which are “home” games.

As a season ticket holder, one attends every game unless detained by a major illness… such as death.  So, you do the math.  Approximately one half of the summer is consumed by attending the home games of one’s baseball team.  That is a large chunk of time my friends.  It is roughly one half of one’s life between April and the beginning of September which is one of the main reasons, and this should be self evident,  I do not have time to write a blog for August.

“BUT”, you say.  “There is still that other half of the summer.  That should leave plenty of time to write a blog in August.”  To which I reply, “No no no.”  That “other half” of summer life has been spent battling groundhogs, tending to home improvements…mostly cleaning, then recleaning…and the cycle continues, in hopes of snagging a tenant to occupy our home for a year so we can fritter our time away in Costa Rica and wander around the USA when not in Central America.

So, now you know why I’m not writing a blog as previously planned for the month of August.  There simply is not time to sit around tapping the keyboard of my laptop for such an otherwise pointless purpose.  I hope you understand.

It's a Spring Thing...

Spring just sort of tip-toed in, quietly, without fanfare this year. As though it didn’t want to offend Winter by taking over in a sudden, pushy fashion.  

Green Grass...Spring Ice on the trees !!!

It allowed Winter a most gradual exit. Co-existing for the longest time, Spring timidly, finally, laid claim to most days while very often giving up its hold on nights, conceding the struggle to its forerunner, letting the mercury slip back down into the low forties and occasional thirties.  

Asheville’s minor league baseball team appeared on schedule, flashing their subtle signals around the playing field.  Though hard for outsiders to interpret them, it seems certain that some of those arm pats, top-of-head touches, finger-to-nose moves were meant to tell Spring it was time to show up.  But Spring failed to heed the call, and most of the night games were played with fans shivering even while wrapped in blankets.

Spring Flowers at Last

Rhododendron in the "back yard"

Coaxed by sunny, albeit sometimes chilly days, blossoms of purple, pink, white, and yellow slowly adorned the trees and bushes that nourished them.  Bare limbs of trees large and small greened quickly, almost suddenly, and at last, by Mother’s Day, it appeared Spring’s late arrival had finally occurred.

Our Dreaded Driveway...to be avoided in Winter!

Of course, Spring has its traditions, one of which is cleaning house and home, top to bottom, inside and out.  It’s the “out” part of that equation that has presented the greatest challenge for us this year.  Surrounded by 2.5 acres of wooded mountainside, our little homestead here in South Asheville has typically been left “au naturale”.  Absent grass, the forest floor has been left covered with leaves, blackberry bushes and tree limbs resting wherever nature put them.

Geri "down in front"

However, with plans to put this property on the market, we decided it might be best to call in a “grounds crew” and clean up several years’ worth of the stuff discarded by nature.  While one could hardly call it landscaping, we did engage the services of a small landscaping crew whose efforts over the span of a couple of weeks did make the ground almost visible as it slopes away from the front of our house WAY down to our mailbox on the street below.

Of course, working with plants or anything that grows, is a form of entertainment for Geri.  Even though ravaged by poison ivy, neither she nor the Mexicans working along side of her, were to be deterred.  Thorny bushes, invasive vines and volunteer trees too numerous to count were uprooted and removed.  And, slowly but surely, there appeared clearings where heretofore had been growth of near jungle density.   The result:  there is now room to place a realtor sign which may even be visible to passers-by.

Trust me...there's a house up there somewhere!

It’s the perfect place for anyone wanting to purchase a view…with a house!  

Now all we need is a HOME RUN...........Spread the word!

The Journey Home

It had to happen…eventually.  It’s amazing how quickly 3 months slides by, but, at last the day arrived when we had to say goodbye to Costa Rica and those few friends who had not yet made the northerly trek.

Of course, packing for the return trip is a trip in itself.  For us, at least this year, the key was figuring out what NOT to pack.  Since this year’s condo, like the past year, was a rental unit, Geri came prepared just in case she was invited to participate in The Iron Chef competition.  Pots, pans, machete size knives and sharpeners, spices, pepper grinders, garlic press and sorted kitchen tools, all made the trip from NC to Costa Rica.  The good news is, that all these cooking utensils, as well as most of our clothing and many miscellaneous household items, did not have to make the trip back.  Friends took pity upon us, presented us with a key and offered storage space in their condo where upon our arrival this Fall, we can reclaim the goods and add them to the already fully stocked condo that will be our Playa del Coco residence for all future stays.

So, following a few hugs and handshakes, promises to stay in touch, and reciprocal invitations to visit in the States, it was off to LIR to meet the 3 hour advance check-in recommendation for international travel.  OK, I’ll admit we cheated on that by nearly an hour, but still….!

In spite of leaving quantities of household items and clothing that would require hauling by a team of pack mules, we still managed to show up at the airport with our carry-on luggage plus two large suitcases which were 1 lb and 1.5 lbs OVER the 50 lb weight limit respectively.

Now, here is where I plan to share a tip that will save you the $50 extra charge per bag when your luggage is over the weight limit.  I’m doing this for free, as a public service only for the benefit of those on my little “Friends and Family” email/blog list.   All others should send royalties of $5.00 per bag…US currency preferred.

Always pack a light-weight nylon duffle bag that can be rolled, folded or wadded up so as to take up a very small space inside one of your main suitcases.  Then when confronted with the “over weight” baggage issue, step back, remove the nylon duffle bag, transfer some items from the over weight luggage into it so everything comes in at under 50 lbs and check it all again.  Happy trails to you!  No excess weight charges!

As we all know, flying in this day and age is a mode of travel that makes the camel caravan seem attractive.  What with the marvelous work of our Department of Homeland Security, the Transportation Security Agency, and others who want to get into your pants, going through airports is not a welcome experience for the faint of heart, the impatient, or those modest types with a regard for privacy.  Add to that, the suspicious and doubting looks from Customs and Immigration Agents.  Their glares are enough to stir paranoia among even the most sane and law abiding travelers.  Rarely do I pass through this portion of the journey without feeling like maybe I really am a criminal and I am just being given the benefit of that insight by these agents of doom who upon staring intently into Big Brother’s digital database gradually determine whether or not I shall be allowed to proceed.

But this says nothing of the waiting…..the lines where a time warp morphs minutes into hours.  Where those in charge, who have the ability to move things along with efficient action, work as though they are Olympic contenders in the slow motion event.  Where the relay becomes a delay and he who comes in last….WINS.

But the real reason that our journey from LIR to AVL took from noon on Monday until nearly 4:00am on Tuesday was a potpourri of insults to the great sidereal movement by which time is generally reckoned.   Yes, there were the lines… the TSA lines, the Customs lines, the Immigration lines, more TSA lines, baggage check lines, flight delays, etc.  But somehow, these individual swindlers of time managed to conspire so that the sum of the parts far exceeded the whole.  It was puzzling even to me, a longtime student of calculus.  A total of nearly 16 hours, of which only four were actually spent in the air.

Flying……  isn’t it fun!!!

Home Again, Home Again

Blue Zones

The Nicoya Peninsula here on the Pacific side of Costa Rica is categorized by scientists and demographers as one of five “Blue Zones” in the world.  These “Blue Zones” are places where people often live active lives beyond the age of 100.

Researchers have found there are certain characteristics that each of these areas have in common…factors  that contribute to the longevity of the residents there.  And, although I did not make the connection at the time, I have been able to witness these factors in action while spending the past 3 months in Playa del Coco.

What I observed were the incredibly strong family values that serve as the platform for all other activities of daily life.  Costa Rican families tend to be large.  Young couples have not one, not two, but four, five or more children in fairly rapid succession.  Adults spend huge amounts of quality time with their children, playing with them, enjoying life together.  Old people are always included in family outings to the beach or a favorite picnic spot.  Families are cohesive, support each other and derive joy from their interaction.

Next to the importance of family structure, another prime factor in the Blue Zone is that the main staples of the Costa Rican diet come from things that grow in the earth with legumes being the most common.  Though not strict vegetarians, their food is certainly based more on plants than animals.   Smoking among Costa Ricans is rare and their daily activity level is high.  Working, walking or riding a bicycle are all forms of exercise that everyone here gets loads of on a daily basis.  So, slim and trim is the standard body type among most of people who live in this region.

Finally, as noted in a previous blog, Costa Ricans are happy people and it is this state of mind combined with family values, healthy diet, and a high level of physical activity that result in people living long, healthy lives frequently for more than a century.  The Nicoya Peninsula: one of only five Blue Zones in the world!

And for a brief update on the wild and crazy week just past, it is difficult to figure where to start.  Dottie and Roy were here for 2 weeks, having just headed back to Tennessee this morning.  Gay, our friend and former neighbor at Venetian Golf & River Club in Venice, Florida got here last Saturday and will be with us for the rest of this week.  Tammy and Monte just came down to Coco for their 2nd trip here this winter.  Several of our local friends just headed home after spending their winter here.  Kenny and Diane, Bob and Judy, John and Pam, Ralph and Carolyn………..all gone just in the last few days.  Chaos is the only order that exists as the end of our stay draws near.  So much happening and so few days left to squeeze it all in.

Scrambling around like chickens at a fox convention, we’re trying to wrap up things for a May closing on our just purchased condo here at Pacifico.  Above is the view from the living room.  Pura Vida!!!!

For the Love of Souvenirs

One of the most captivating places to sit and sip a beer (margaritas work well too) is on “the rail” at the Z-Lounge or Coconutz or the Lizard Lounge down on El Coco’s main thoroughfare.

These are open air restaurant/bar type establishments famous for their warm beer and lousy food but revered as champions of the all day happy hour.  And consistent with the true nature of Costa Rican style, it is sometimes possible to get same-day service.

The “rail” is a bar-height, foot deep, counter that defines the street-side perimeter of the food service area, the floor of which is elevated from the street level by 4-5 feet.  Bar stools along the rail provide the preferred perch to look out over the commotion amidst the roadside shops and vendors, the ever thrilling traffic flow and the potpourri of pedestrian shoppers streaming by as though line dancing.  In some cultures, this is referred to as people-watching.

The “main” thoroughfare is more accurately represented as the “only” thoroughfare in downtown El Coco.  It is a narrow, partially paved and plentifully pot-holed street that produces copious shrouds of dust when it is dry and measureless mud when it is wet.  Lacking the benefit of actual sidewalks, it creates pedestrian obstacles which are as hazardous as they are challenging.

The stakes for survival along the street are heightened due to the unrelenting stream of traffic attempting to weave its way through the chaos spawned by drivers stopped in the street to chat with an amigo, bicycles loaded with up to 4 passengers spastically striving to stay upright, shoppers on foot fecklessly meandering from side to side as delivery trucks, buses, motorcycles, cars, trucks and electric vehicles bob and weave through the whole mess struggling to avoid collisions with competitors seeking the same path.

The speed at which these maneuvers are accomplished varies between the pace of a centipede on crutches and the brief burst of a motorcycle at full throttle spurting past stymied drivers of less nimble vehicles.

This muddled mishmash of motorized and pedestrian traffic is a recipe for disaster as those driving are attempting to arrive at an actual destination to which they are already late even by Costa Rican standards and those hoofing it who have no idea where they are going but all the time in the world to get there.

Lined with shops, restaurants and bars, this congested artery is nearly as perilous as the plaque-clogged passage in the neck of a sclerotic cardiac patient.  Nothing flows smoothly and danger lurks constantly as the flow pulses onward.  In spite of that, there in the relative safety of a bar stool on the rail, the intrigue is inescapable as the scene commands vigilance from the ever attentive gallery.

A steady stream of tourists from all points on the globe parade from one shopkeeper’s outside table to the next clad in their shorts, bathing suits, flip-flops, sunburns and sunglasses as young ladies employed to watch over the goods work to entice spenders inside where even more stuff waits to be bagged.  Canadians and Europeans far outnumber Americans and most are here for brief visits.  But, regardless of the amount of time spent in El Coco, nearly all want to use some of their remaining money to acquire reminders of their vacation in Costa Rica before departing for their next destination.

Thousands of trinkets adorned with “Costa Rica” in script, “El Coco” burned on the bias into wood or stamped onto molded plastic, and colorful towels, wraps, or garments in the primary colors of Costa Rica’s famed parrots all compete for the attention of would be buyers.  Native looking necklaces, bracelets and jewelry fabricated from shells or stones are everywhere. So many choices to aid in the memory of a trip to Costa Rica!  And nearly all of it … are you ready???     Imported from China!

Don't anybody tell Geri about this babe I picked up!

Wow, the Ides of March is upon us (tomorrow) and the air is still cool in the morning and evening.  That's especially convenient as our central air conditioning died Saturday night and it would be hard to take under normal circumstances.  Which leads me to the topic of my Monday blog that follows.  It points toward some fundamental differences in people and cultures.....between the 'haves' and the 'have nots'.  Happy mid-March to everyone...........

Not everything about Costa Rica is grand and beautiful.  Oh sure, there are the stupendously impressive  volcanoes, the ecologically unique tropical rain forests, the hundreds upon hundreds of miles of beaches lining the western Pacific coast and the eastern Carribean coast (Costa), and the enormously diverse wildlife amid  flora which is so intensely rich (Rica) as to be one of National Geographic’s top biological wonderlands in the entire world.  But there is also that poverty thing.  Not so pretty.

Of course, nearly every country on the planet has its poverty related problems.  The point here is that Costa Rica is no exception.  There are undoubtedly countries around the world where profound poverty grips the nation on a pandemic level and strangles its people more than here.  But there are far too many Costa Ricans who must endure what by our standards is a pitiful plight.

There are ironies wrapped in conundrums as one observes unsavory levels of destitution alongside the grandeur of the fiercely rugged landscape.  There are people living in shelters framed by lashing dead tree limbs together with twine and tying corregated tin to them to fashion sides and a roof.  The best such dirt floored shelters provide is shade from the sweltering summer sun and slight protection from the wind driven autumn rains.  The only running water in these quarters is what falls from the sky.  Some such huts are found right beside a main road so that the entrepreneurially inclined can fabricate homemade tables to display locally grown fruits in hopes passersby may stop and part with a dollar or two in exchange for a watermelon or some succulent pineapples or mangos.

And then there are the more substantial huts consisting of 4 concrete block walls and something that passes for a roof.  These structures of concrete block are typically found farther off the main roads, on dusty gravel trails with rutted, washboard type surfaces where local residents are assaulted by the clouds of dust born by each passing vehicle, where the battle is never ending, never won.

The nicer ones may even sport a coat of paint.  The walls commonly have rectangular openings and the more upscale versions may have actual windows to fill these openings.  Whether enhanced with glass or not, these openings are typically fortified with iron bars…a deterrent to any unscrupulous among them who may be tempted to misappropriate what little may be harbored within. Except for those driven to thievery out of sheer desperation, Costa Rica is an incredibly  peaceful and non-violent country. 

There is, however, one amenity all of these “homes” have in common.  They all have a clothes line.  And while they may not have many clothes to wash or hang out to dry, the ones they have are clean.  Laundry is an every day affair in every Costa Rican hovel.  Done without the benefit of washing machines, it’s a task which consumes the major portion of each mother’s day.  Uniformed children go to school in white, starched shirts and blouses no matter their station in life.  They wear their clean clothes with pride because  they are a proud people, these Costa Ricans are.

Of course, not every Costa Rican native lives in abject poverty.  Some are actually wealthy… most are not.  There are those who seek and obtain a college education compliments of their socialist government. Those few who do acquire an advanced degree provide professional services and enjoy a comfortable lifestyle.  Those who don’t, have a difficult life to endure.  Laboring in the infernos of sugar cane fields, cantaloupe farms or other back breaking drudgery day in and day out is the destiny faced by the majority.  There is little to look forward to and much to dread.

Yet in spite of these masses who endure the challenges of a substandard lifestyle, there is one singularly  ironic fact that emerges from this cauldron of beauty and the beast-of-indigence.  Costa Ricans are happy.  They do not wallow in misery nor dream enviously of the life enjoyed by the more fortunate.  They celebrate each day with a song in their soul, a smile on their face, and a light in their eye.  They laugh, they cajole, they love their journey.   They are welcoming, they are helpful and they are kind.    Though many of these folks lack even the most basic needs for day to day living, they possess a wealth of cheer and a level of satisfaction money can’t seem to buy.  Costa Ricans are happy people and Costa Rica is a happy country. 

POST SCRIPT: The “Happy Planet Index” from Wikipedia, ranks Costa Rica as the happiest country on earth and  Forbes magazine ranks it the 6th happiest, the top five being Scandinavian countries.  Needless to say, the USA doesn’t make any of the “happy country” lists.  That’s kind of depressing, huh!?!

A Photo Blog...

4 Masted Cruise Ship in Coco Bay

OK, so for all you people who have been whining about the paltry use of photos in my blog entries, I am dedicating this week’s blog to you, as proof that it truly is the squeaky wheel that get’s the grease.



While sorting through the zillions of pixels residing in the depths of my hard drive, I was reminded (because of the HUGE number) of the time one of George Bush’s top advisors informed him that 3 Brazilian soldiers had been killed by an IED over in Iraq.  President Bush then famously replied: “Three brazilion….wow, that’s really a LOT isn’t it?”

Boats moored in Coco Bay

Sorry, I couldn’t resist the temptation to digress.  I must say, however, it is extremely easy to wander when writing about no particular subject, where the boundary lines are about as confining as a ring of smoke and the needle on your mental compass spins haphazardly out of control.





Be that as it may, the photo gallery being passed along in today’s “picture blog” consists of random shots of the locale in and around El Coco, photos of Geri and me as proof to the family that we have not been kidnapped even after living for two-plus months in a Latin country, and photos of friends we’ve had the pleasure of knowing while mutually avoiding the horrors of winter in North America.

Horseback Riding on the beach

The pictures of Geri and yours truly are meant primarily for our family and those friends on my limited distribution email list who enjoy making fun of my hair by claiming it has turned grey.  In the interest of full disclosure and self defense, I am here to claim that it is not really grey.  Rather, it is bleached by the sun and chlorine to a blondish, grayish beige which in daylight and some artificial light just looks kind of grey.  But it is not….mostly.  Really!

"Storefronts" in downtown Playas del Coco

The photos of our friends here in Costa Rica are primarily for THEIR benefit to aid in reminiscing and to remind them where they were, who was here and what they did during the winter of 2011.

Rare rainbow over the condo

Another rainbow shot

I will avoid going into great lengths to identify our local friends as they all pretty much know who they are and who each other is while most of you in the North won’t know or care.  I must say, however, that some of our El Coco friends are conspicuously absent from or appear infrequently in this group of photos so the album is incomplete at best.

Geri hanging out at a BAR of course

View from our tent on the Osa Peninsula

Being true to my word I am sticking to my promise to be short on verbiage and long on pictures in this week’s photo blog.  So, continue looking...........

Geri with our little friend Morgan

Actually, Morgan lives with John and Pam and we just get to babysit on occasion!

Bob and Geri (his Geri, not mine)

Judy and Bob (Judy's Bob,not Geri's)

Bob serving refreshments...per usual

Bob 2, Larry, John, Jim and Bob 1 in conference

Carolyn and Ralph when the ghost walked in

Geri "A" and Judy

Geri "A" in the kitchen

Geri and Diane beaching again

Hal and Jim at the Wednesday happy hour

Heidi....ready, set, HIKE

Our tri-atheletes...John and Pam

Kenny in Dominical

Louise at Hermosa Beach

Jack at Hermosa Beach

Pamela under the rainbow

Pam, Deb and Erika at the Wednesday pot luck

We particularly enjoy Wednesday evenings here at our Pacifico complex as that is when we congregate in our veranda for group therapy (happy hour) and pot-luck hors-doeuvres which are substantial enough to be our dinner.  As the Wednesday gathering is a 'scheduled' event, it is different from the more random and impromptu poolside happy hours which occur on the other days of the week.  An important distinction for those who need help remembering the current day of the week.

Larry on "Rainbow" day

Geri, Kenny and Diane on the Osa Peninsula

Monte and Tammy

Tammy chillin'

That's all Folks, bye bye for now............