Hmmm...Phew!....Funny...Flabbergasting

I’ve got six months of material but only one more month on location! Add to that minimal non-breastfeeding/non-babyholding time and the ability to post all of my profundities before we leave Costa Rica is dwindling. … “Leave.” The leaving is hard already. . . . But the experiences keep on rolling in and with “the leaving” in mind, I have constant vigilance over the Tico experience – past, present and future. I can’t stop seeing it all as blog fodder or, better yet, book fodder. (Enter daydream fantasy #273: I am sitting at a table, surrounded by books, holding a pen, signing my name to inside covers of Pura Vida, Dura Vida, smiling at my adoring public (through glasses for maximum intellectual effect) with a smile that says, “Elizabeth Gilbert, eat your heart out!”) OK, er, um, anyway . . .There’s a lot to write about. We really have lived 5 lifetimes here (as newcomers, then as leisure hounds, then as a pregnant family, then as city dwellers, and now as a family of four) and I feel like we’re JUST settling in and really becoming a part of the community. Go figure. At the same time, I have been dreaming of “home” in California and, it would seem, that the universe is making that dream come true. For now. Who knows what the future holds. Vamos a ver. But, right now we’re still here and I’ve got a few morsels to share . . .

Varicella Update

I am happy and relieved to say that it has been confirmed and reconfirmed that the Martinez family does NOT have the chicken pox. Phew! I found this out when I saw Diego, Andrey’s older brother, sitting on the side of the road in town, waiting for a ride home. As I drive up, he stands and waves and smiles and expects a ride. I am in a dilemma – because if he’s been exposed to chicken pox, I’m leaving him sitting on the side of the road. We chat, and he answers me again and again – very patiently – that neither Andrey nor anyone else in his family has the chicken pox. Then, only then, do I allow him in the car. Poor guy – victim to my momentary medical paranoia. I guess I can reschedule my picadillo-making lesson.

Lavapalooza Dos

Lavapalooza Dos (doh!) is less then two weeks away. An update email with directions and reminders is coming soon! We’re busy preparing – Sue’s back muraling the rancho walls, food’s being planned, t-shirts/glowsticks/wristbands are all on the premises . . . We can’t wait to welcome all you freaks here for the show! If you’re missing it this year, we’ll see you next year for Lava Tres, as our geographical location in no way hinders the production of this party!


Major Accomplishment
Yesterday I mastered a new skill. I can now breastfeed and drive at the same time. No – wait, let me up the macha factor on that one. You know what our road is like. I can actually say that I can breastfeed and 4-wheel drive at the same time. Necessity (read: screaming baby) dictated that I perform said skill, and I must say that I do it very well. This is unfortunately not a skill that will transfer to life in California – unless I want to attract the attention of the CHP or risk being called Britney.

The Ferreteria
The big hardware store in town is called Colono. Very few people would disagree that the majority of time they, well, suck. But it’s the biggest hardware store in town so they theoretically have the most variety and quantity of materials and, thus, the most variety and quantity of customers. I say “theoretically” because even though they profess to have, say, paint – they may not necessarily have a single can on the shelf. Why would a hardware store keep paint in stock when every builder in town needs it? Silly! Ultimately, what is supposed to be available and what is actually available at Colono is often in direct contradiction to the other. And the customer service. How to describe it? Would you believe that customer service can be both totally overdone and yet completely nonexistent? The young fellows who work at this fine establishment are not only underattentive, but they remind me of the two young men I encountered once working at a CompUSA in the Bay Area arguing about whether or not “one-quarter” and “one-fourth” were the same thing. Now, I’m no math genius either, but let’s just say it’s amazing that young men like this are allowed to handle money and heavy machinery. In any case, going to Colono is often a tragicomedy. You want to laugh, you have to laugh, but the tragedy of incompetence one is forced to encounter time and again nears epic proportion. It goes something like this:

You walk into the store. Ten employees stand around looking arguably busy or “helping” someone else. They are very sharp in their white, button-up shirts, dark blue polyester pants and name tags. You stand around (anywhere from 3 to 15 minutes), waiting until someone will look at you and listen to you. Then you make your request. “I need a kilo of nails,” or “I need two sacos de cemento,” or “I’d like a can of paint, por favor.” One of three things happens:
1) He stares at you blankly.
2) He stares at you blankly and says, “Que?”
3) He walks away.
Numbers one and two are frustrating, but number three sucks because sometimes you don’t know if the guy’s going to ask someone else and come back to help you, or if he’s simply walking away.

After the employee understands your request and/or if he returns (anywhere from 3 to 15 minutes), one of two things will happen:
1) He’ll actually get you what you’re asking for.
2) He’ll say, “No hay.” In which case, they may or may not have it, but they’re telling you they do not and there’s nothing you can do about it. It may really just depend upon who’s helping you that day.

Once you have procured your item(s), if there are indeed items to be procured, you must go to one of several blue-formica-ed counters within the store where the employee will then ask your name, look you up on the computer, input your purchase, and ask you how you’d like to pay for it. This hunt and peck routine can take another 3 to 15 minutes, after which he will hit “Return,” and send that info to an employee sitting at another counter near the front entrance. In the meantime, he takes your purchase to yet another counter on the other side of the front entrance. If you’re not used to this routine, it’s a bit of a clusterf&%$ trying to figure out what you’re supposed to be doing as you follow the employee and your purchase to the wrong counter where you just might wait yet another 3 to 15 minutes before someone tells you that they’re waiting for you to pay for your items at the other counter. So you cross to the other counter near the front entrance where the female employee is sitting officiously, looking at you as if you’ve just insulted her mother, and pay your bill. Then you cross back over to the other counter again where it takes two more female employees with slightly better attitudes to check your receipt, bag your purchase, and finally hand it to you. And this is all on a good day. Really makes you appreciate The Home Depot.