Peace of the Pie

Costa Rica’s Labor Day. May Day! Dance around the May Pole or drive to the Liberia airport? Hmmm…Oh, alright, I guess we’ll spare Chris a morning of hitchhiking and drive him to the airport; it’s bad enough he has to go to Virginia. (Oh, just kidding. I revere George Washington’s home state and the capital of the Confederacy just as much as the next person.) Anyway, we’re becoming quite intimate with the lush route around the lake, through the hills, and down into the dry plains of Guanacaste. I think we’ve probably done the drive about umpteenth times now, to drop off or pick up Chris and various visitors. It’s actually quite a fun venture – we get to witness some of the most gorgeous views of the lake and volcano, visit the big city, eat at one of our favorite restaurants, maybe stay at a hotel, go shopping, Wilder gets to ooh and aah over a small fleet of airplanes, and I get to watch all of the departing tourists, pulling unmanageable loads of luggage, scuttling around dazed and confused, fresh from the beach in their toob tops and shorts, lobsters trying to pass for golden salamanders. … It’s always hard saying good-bye when the time comes for Chris to make his way through customs with the rest of the herd, but we’re learning to deal with these small absences with greater aplomb. Travel = employment = paycheck = American dollars = current existence. Plus, you know what they say about absences and hearts and fondness . . . We make the best of it.

We also reflect quite often how thankful we both are for our jobs and how fortunate we are to have them (and how much more secure they’ll be when we finally get reliable internet service this week!). A lot of people we meet want to know how they can do what we do, which is great validation when we start fantasizing about not working at all or quitting our jobs and opening a B&B, adventure company, or organic farm. But we’re in pre-tirement, not re-tirement and still having our jobs in the States while living down here is the Holy Grail. Many extranjeros try to make a go of it by opening businesses that thrive on tourism – souvenir shops, restaurants, ATV rentals, bed and breakfasts, hotels. We often theorize about doing the same. But Costa Rican tourism dollars don’t often seem to adequately subsidize even the most successful establishments nor to support the pura vida their owners are seeking. So those not already drawing on large pensions, trust funds, or savings accounts, in other words, those seeking more “plata” (silver, slang, as in bling-bling), are inevitably drawn into the same hustle – real estate. No matter what the business, you can almost always guarantee that they dabble in land sales too: “Rent a Kayak, Ride a Horse, Buy A House!”; “Souvenirs, Comida Tipica, and Lake Front Property”; “Se Vende Cafe, Pan Dulce, y Lotes.”

Everyone’s selling and a lot of people are buying. We did, obviously. It’s a great place to live and invest! The development around here is happening pretty quickly (relatively speaking, of course; we’re still on Tico time here!), and I’m sure we’ll continue to see some big changes in population and property values. But while things here are still competitively “affordable” (though not on most local Ticos’ salaries), everyone is looking to make a deal. Aside from the extranjeros who get into the game, there are also Ticos who want to play, many of whom are looking to sell off a nice chunk of the family farm to secure a nice chunk of the family’s future. We often get approached with such a deal or opportunity and I guess we’re not the only ones. Our neighbor says, “S*&%, just because I’m an American, they think I’m a real estate agent!” I guess extranjeros have made a reputation for themselves, not just as buyers but as brokers. Everyone simply wants a piece of the big, juicy pie. I like pie, but personally, I just want peace.