Thursday, March 18, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
One Year in Costa Rica
It has been exactly a year now since we left the beautiful Mercer Island, Washington to move to Costa Rica. I personally did not know for sure whether I will like living in Costa Rica or not. We arrived Costa Rica in March 1st of last year while our house was being built. It has been a very painful journey, but we managed to finished the house this year.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Rockin' and a Rollin' - Did the Earth Move for You?
There are parallels between being in Seattle during the WTO demonstrations and an earthquake in Costa Rica. In both cases unless you are at ground zero, it is a mere curiousity - or annoyance.
During the WTO, my office was directly above the worst of the demonstrations. Watching CNN, you would believe that all of Seattle was chaos. Looking down from 20 floors up, I watched demonstrators and police play their parts. The sight of a news camera would cause a demonstrator to run at it and grimace menancingly. Aside from the tear gas that settled in our parking garage, the whole WTO debacle was interesting, news worthy and annoying. It did, however, spark a deluge of calls and emails to see if we had survived.
Today, we had two quakes in Costa Rica of 5.7 at 11:24 a.m. and 5.9 at 3:04 p.m. The first gently rocked Nim and I on the couch. During the second, Nim was concentrating on paint colors in a store - and never noticed it. (Being color-blind, Sousa and I were holding down a gently rocking chair.) The epicenter for both was about 100 miles away. (Granted, folks at the epicenter report a more attention getting effect.) Here in gentle Atenas, the quake was a curiousity. We are again flattered that friends from around the world noted the quake and inquired of our health and continued existence.
From any distance, Costa Rica is a mere speck on a map. It must unimaginable to some that an infinite number of angels can dance on the head of a pin or that there is enough room in Costa Rica for a few million people to ride out a quake without toppling each other like dominos or even noticng that it occurred.
During the WTO, my office was directly above the worst of the demonstrations. Watching CNN, you would believe that all of Seattle was chaos. Looking down from 20 floors up, I watched demonstrators and police play their parts. The sight of a news camera would cause a demonstrator to run at it and grimace menancingly. Aside from the tear gas that settled in our parking garage, the whole WTO debacle was interesting, news worthy and annoying. It did, however, spark a deluge of calls and emails to see if we had survived.
Today, we had two quakes in Costa Rica of 5.7 at 11:24 a.m. and 5.9 at 3:04 p.m. The first gently rocked Nim and I on the couch. During the second, Nim was concentrating on paint colors in a store - and never noticed it. (Being color-blind, Sousa and I were holding down a gently rocking chair.) The epicenter for both was about 100 miles away. (Granted, folks at the epicenter report a more attention getting effect.) Here in gentle Atenas, the quake was a curiousity. We are again flattered that friends from around the world noted the quake and inquired of our health and continued existence.
From any distance, Costa Rica is a mere speck on a map. It must unimaginable to some that an infinite number of angels can dance on the head of a pin or that there is enough room in Costa Rica for a few million people to ride out a quake without toppling each other like dominos or even noticng that it occurred.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
It Is Only A One-Bedroom!
Houses and babies have a lot in common. During the first few months, you try to figure out the appendages and whether it is what you had hoped for. Now gestation has had its effect and our baby is starting to look like a home. (Our house is a bit of a premie, the Lovely Nim has used PhotoShop to “paint” our house a bit prematurely.)
Casa de Animas is not the home that we would have planned for in a financial meltdown. That home would have been our shipping container with sky-lights. Having taken the construction plunge, we are now “stuck” with our creation. Readers (plural?) of this blog will know that the gestation has been almost six years. It is only a one-bedroom home, but what a one-bedroom it will be.
We arrived at “just the right time. The contractor is now getting down to the fine details. In general, contractors will default to the expedient if not give clear direction to the contrary. By way of example, our contractor did not think that more than one color in or outside the house was necessary. Likewise, why mess with different types and colors of tiles, when one will do? The Lovely Nim has literally spent days with her chauffer (“at your service”) driving from one supplier to the next. Costa Rica is a small country. In a spiraling construction economy, vendors simply do not have unlimited stocks of materials – particularly imported items.
We have now been residents for a week. With the house, catching up with friends and actually practicing a little law, we have been amazingly busy. We are loaded with communications devices courtesy of Al Gore and the Internet. We have a landline, a Tico cell, a US cell, a Vonage Seattle number and my office phone. There have been a couple of times that more than one phone is ringing. More than once, the yell “Please get the phone.” Followed, by “What phone?”
To the recipient of my calls, it appears that I am sitting at my office desk rather than surveying a beautiful valley in Ticolandia. My assistant says it is spooky when I call her or am on the phone as her unit lights up with “He is busy”. This week as I spoke to several clients, the neighborhood rooster spoke up. “What is that?” “Nothing,” I replied. “My partners are under a lot of stress in this economy and have become a little chicken-shit.
In our short week, we have been disappointed and hugely pleased. One example, the house features a spiral staircase that swoops down from the second floor in about a 260 degree arc. Having seen a staircase by another contractor (really ugly), I was afraid that it would bounce. No problemo now, but ten years from now – who knows. I then discovered the staircase was to be of concrete. Ohmigod, concrete is ugly – what are we going to do? When we showed up, the artisans were putting the finishing touches on a truly elegant curving staircase with broad stairs that even a future geezer could navigate on Prozac. Who would have believed that you could sculpt such a majestic feature with a little steel and concrete?
A word from Sousa the Portuguese water dog. "While my domestic staff was getting regular updates from Continental, nobody told me anything. Here I am stuck in my kennel in a noisy aluminum tube with a nearby Chihuahua rambling on about his career in fast food advertising. No food on this flight! My water bowl was frozen and then sloppy. Hey! Isn’t this thing supposed to have oxygen masks? Finally, we arrive. I have no idea where the hell I am. My staff is there grinning like fools. I am tired and dehydrated. I look forward to going home and amusing Peter by chasing some tennis balls in the morning – he easily amuses. What a minute here, this place is warm. Who turned on the summer? I froze my butt off in Seattle with this summer clip – maybe Peter planned this from the beginning.
At first I thought, I will do the Porty mind-meld on Peter and he will take me home. For the first few nights, I stood by the bed and got as close as possible – people have bad breath. There I stood eyes wide open “Take me home, Peter, I chanted” For three nights, I tried. I managed to keep him awake by not compliant. The Porty mind-meld has never failed before. Peter has a weak mind and I can use the meld to get him to play, feed me or scratch my butt. No matter how long and hard, I stared and focused, we are still here. In fairness, I am getting used to it. There are some terrific butts to smell and the food better. Peter and I fixed some coconut/macadamia muffins this morning with fresh mangoes and some homemade chorizo. Now that is a dog’s breakfast if I ever saw it.
Watch my jowls. When the Obama's put a Portie in the White House, the world will be a better place."
Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place
We did it! If it were not for our mentor/savior George W. Bush, we would still be enjoying the unseasonal cold and snow in Seattle. Each morning, the gloom of a late morning would beset me until our northern skies brightened. Thanks to George, we are now officially gone.
Unfortunately, also gone is a good chunk of our nest egg. But with a little help from his friends (and predecessors), George screwed up the fundamentals of the US economy so badly that it became obvious that our time to vamoose had come.
Sometime after narrowly surviving a family reunion in South Carolina, the Lovely Nim and I looked at each other “What are we doing here?” Next came a rapid series of decisions involving job, house, dog, documents, container, cars and family.
Due to some work that I did pro bono on expat economic resources, I was asked to speak to the American Chamber and used the excuse to sneak down to Costa Rica to speak to the American Chamber (Thursday), rent an apartment (Friday), take my buddy, Mike Passage, to the beach to buy us a great home that he and wife Laura could own and pay for (Saturday-Sunday). Whoosh, we did it. Mike & Laura are signing a purchase agreement as I type this.
On February 25th a container was parked in our front yard and filled with our “stuff”. That is a lesson in itself. The Lovely Nim packed most of the really fragile stuff. For everything else, Chief Moving Character and Good Guy, Ian Cockle and his crew took over. This took days (before the 25th). Stuff, stuff and more stuff was packed. Fortunately, I was able to hid in the office for most of this, but found that a ton of garage stuff that could have been recycled into boat anchors was packed. No doubt there is a need for a Model A fender in Costa Rica and some really good skies. On the 26th, the house was empty.
On the 28th, we were airborne. A little back-story on this. Our Atenas house is not completed. The contractor will miss the penalty date (April 20). As I had rented a very nice apartment, the Lovely Nim wanted to make sure that we could survive. That meant luggage and more luggage. The final tally was 10 pieces – eight of which were large “LBC” boxes (let a Filipino explain them to you).
Pictures of my net worth (not much - thanks to George) evaporating danced in my head as we approached the airport. First stop, Continental Pet Services for Sousa. He went amiably into his kennel. He shed no tears. We did! It was like leaving your child for the first day of school. Would he be safe?, fed? Cared for? Do dogs get oxygen? Son Chris remarked that I did not act that broke up on his first day of school – or the time that I tried to trade him to gypsies for a Model A fender.
The Lovely Nim and I were basket cases as we slowly approached the outside Continental luggage counter. Would the agent laugh “Sorry, they may be essential, but they ain’t going.” We were in luck, the outside guy was a Pinoy!
Not all of you are lucky enough to marry a Filipino/a. (There is still time.) As we have traveled to exotic places – like Virginia Mason hospital, the Lovely Nim’s countrymen have gone overboard to treat us well - even pallid me. In this case, we were charged only for four of our six bags and none of them were judged overweight – you bet.
Waiting in Houston for the San José flight, we were paged. “I am sorry Mr. Parsons. Sousa will not be on your flight – Too much luggage.” What can you say? Something about your own petard? With the friendly help of Continental, I made calls to the pet guy in San José. We agreed that we would wait for Sousa’s flight a couple hours later. What can you do? We boarded the plane – that did not move.
Soon the gate came out to the plane and I am paged. Continental just wanted us to know that Sousa was on board. I cannot say too many good things about Continental’s pet transport service. They care.
Landing in Costa Rica more worries. Let’s see. Two large aluminum cases, eight humongous LBC boxes and a 100 lbs of dog/kennel that cannot be released until customs is cleared. Just how many hand carts is that and do they come with a back surgeon? Faster than you case say Pura Vida appear two young Tico porters with big carts. Everything is packed on them. We zip through customs to a waiting taxi van. More fretting as we approach the apartment in Atenas. We rented on the top floor! Again, no problem, the taxi driver and the caretaker Sherpa-ed all the stuff to the apartment. Taxi's in Costa Rica do not expect tips, but sometimes they earn them.
We were home! Thank you George.
Unfortunately, also gone is a good chunk of our nest egg. But with a little help from his friends (and predecessors), George screwed up the fundamentals of the US economy so badly that it became obvious that our time to vamoose had come.
Sometime after narrowly surviving a family reunion in South Carolina, the Lovely Nim and I looked at each other “What are we doing here?” Next came a rapid series of decisions involving job, house, dog, documents, container, cars and family.
Due to some work that I did pro bono on expat economic resources, I was asked to speak to the American Chamber and used the excuse to sneak down to Costa Rica to speak to the American Chamber (Thursday), rent an apartment (Friday), take my buddy, Mike Passage, to the beach to buy us a great home that he and wife Laura could own and pay for (Saturday-Sunday). Whoosh, we did it. Mike & Laura are signing a purchase agreement as I type this.
On February 25th a container was parked in our front yard and filled with our “stuff”. That is a lesson in itself. The Lovely Nim packed most of the really fragile stuff. For everything else, Chief Moving Character and Good Guy, Ian Cockle and his crew took over. This took days (before the 25th). Stuff, stuff and more stuff was packed. Fortunately, I was able to hid in the office for most of this, but found that a ton of garage stuff that could have been recycled into boat anchors was packed. No doubt there is a need for a Model A fender in Costa Rica and some really good skies. On the 26th, the house was empty.
On the 28th, we were airborne. A little back-story on this. Our Atenas house is not completed. The contractor will miss the penalty date (April 20). As I had rented a very nice apartment, the Lovely Nim wanted to make sure that we could survive. That meant luggage and more luggage. The final tally was 10 pieces – eight of which were large “LBC” boxes (let a Filipino explain them to you).
Pictures of my net worth (not much - thanks to George) evaporating danced in my head as we approached the airport. First stop, Continental Pet Services for Sousa. He went amiably into his kennel. He shed no tears. We did! It was like leaving your child for the first day of school. Would he be safe?, fed? Cared for? Do dogs get oxygen? Son Chris remarked that I did not act that broke up on his first day of school – or the time that I tried to trade him to gypsies for a Model A fender.
The Lovely Nim and I were basket cases as we slowly approached the outside Continental luggage counter. Would the agent laugh “Sorry, they may be essential, but they ain’t going.” We were in luck, the outside guy was a Pinoy!
Not all of you are lucky enough to marry a Filipino/a. (There is still time.) As we have traveled to exotic places – like Virginia Mason hospital, the Lovely Nim’s countrymen have gone overboard to treat us well - even pallid me. In this case, we were charged only for four of our six bags and none of them were judged overweight – you bet.
Waiting in Houston for the San José flight, we were paged. “I am sorry Mr. Parsons. Sousa will not be on your flight – Too much luggage.” What can you say? Something about your own petard? With the friendly help of Continental, I made calls to the pet guy in San José. We agreed that we would wait for Sousa’s flight a couple hours later. What can you do? We boarded the plane – that did not move.
Soon the gate came out to the plane and I am paged. Continental just wanted us to know that Sousa was on board. I cannot say too many good things about Continental’s pet transport service. They care.
Landing in Costa Rica more worries. Let’s see. Two large aluminum cases, eight humongous LBC boxes and a 100 lbs of dog/kennel that cannot be released until customs is cleared. Just how many hand carts is that and do they come with a back surgeon? Faster than you case say Pura Vida appear two young Tico porters with big carts. Everything is packed on them. We zip through customs to a waiting taxi van. More fretting as we approach the apartment in Atenas. We rented on the top floor! Again, no problem, the taxi driver and the caretaker Sherpa-ed all the stuff to the apartment. Taxi's in Costa Rica do not expect tips, but sometimes they earn them.
We were home! Thank you George.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Mumbai Karma: Do Things Come in Threes?
A week ago, the Lovely Nim and I were staying in room 2062 of the Mumbai Oberoi. While attending a meeting of the Pacific Rim Advisory Council (PRAC), we saw the sights including visits to the Taj Mahal Hotel across the street from India Gate. Our India hosts were wonderful. At these meetings, we re-connect with friends from around the world. Still due to the business nature of the trip, it was exhausting. Flying for 30 hours for 18 hour days of schmoozing and meetings is not my idea of a good time.
The Oberoi chain includes fantastically opulent hotels. See www.oberoihotels.com. Notwithstanding what you hear on CNN, the Mumbai Oberoi is a very nice business hotel. It is not a palace – the Taj may fit that description (and the Oberoi in Agra certainly does).
I am not paranoid, but the fragility of life is sometimes brought vividly to your attention:
Close Call One: On Tuesday, I was at a luncheon in the Oberoi. Suddenly, my chair collapses throwing my head into a wall and an inch from a steel reinforced corner that might have split it. My neck and back are still sore. At 63, I am not quite as resilient as when younger. As the initial “thud” was diminishing, I assured the banquet manager that his job was safe. (The neck and back hit me in the evening.)
Close Call Two: Upon returning home, we picked up our dog, Sousa. To please him and combat my jet-lag, I took him for a walk in the nearby park on a beautiful day. Walking home, we were crossing a deserted street intersection. Suddenly a car comes out of a side-street and turns right at us. In fractions of a second, we make it across the line and the car keeps coming. Sousa jumps clear and I roll across the hood and down the driver’s side. Excepting a bruise on my right arm that hurts as I type this, no real damage. The driver “I am so sorry! I have a crick in my neck and could not turn my head in your direction!” If I had been a child or semi, somebody would be dead!
Close Call Three: As I type this, there is a terrorist still at large in the Taj. During the past 48 hours PRAC delegates have been sending their prayers and thoughts to our Indian hosts and friends in Mumbai. (One delegate checked out of the Oberoi the morning of the attacks.) Everyone is safe, but what a difference a week makes.
An alarming technological serendipity:
The Lovely Nim's iPhone burped this morning (Nov. 28) and sent the below email that had been unsent for unknown reasons. Obviously, she has followed up with the potentially concerned family member recipients. See photo.
-----Original Message-----
From: Nim Parsons
Sent: Friday, November 14, 2008 7:58 PM
To: April Hernandez; Henry Pacayra; Celia A. Pacayra
Subject: Greetings from Mumbai waterfront!
Dear All-
Enjoying Mumbai--right now on tour on ferry ride full of attorneys.
Cheers,
Our Thanksgiving celebration had a special meaning this year.
A scary footnote: We learned on December 1st that , the U.S. intercepted a cell call offshore Mumbai from the bad guys on the 18th. The Indians sent out a patrol and the terrorist put off their plans for a week.
But for a little NSA snooping, my presentation would have been tragically interrupted.
I may send flowers and candy to the Puzzle Palace. Phew!
The Oberoi chain includes fantastically opulent hotels. See www.oberoihotels.com. Notwithstanding what you hear on CNN, the Mumbai Oberoi is a very nice business hotel. It is not a palace – the Taj may fit that description (and the Oberoi in Agra certainly does).
I am not paranoid, but the fragility of life is sometimes brought vividly to your attention:
Close Call One: On Tuesday, I was at a luncheon in the Oberoi. Suddenly, my chair collapses throwing my head into a wall and an inch from a steel reinforced corner that might have split it. My neck and back are still sore. At 63, I am not quite as resilient as when younger. As the initial “thud” was diminishing, I assured the banquet manager that his job was safe. (The neck and back hit me in the evening.)
Close Call Two: Upon returning home, we picked up our dog, Sousa. To please him and combat my jet-lag, I took him for a walk in the nearby park on a beautiful day. Walking home, we were crossing a deserted street intersection. Suddenly a car comes out of a side-street and turns right at us. In fractions of a second, we make it across the line and the car keeps coming. Sousa jumps clear and I roll across the hood and down the driver’s side. Excepting a bruise on my right arm that hurts as I type this, no real damage. The driver “I am so sorry! I have a crick in my neck and could not turn my head in your direction!” If I had been a child or semi, somebody would be dead!
Close Call Three: As I type this, there is a terrorist still at large in the Taj. During the past 48 hours PRAC delegates have been sending their prayers and thoughts to our Indian hosts and friends in Mumbai. (One delegate checked out of the Oberoi the morning of the attacks.) Everyone is safe, but what a difference a week makes.
An alarming technological serendipity:
The Lovely Nim's iPhone burped this morning (Nov. 28) and sent the below email that had been unsent for unknown reasons. Obviously, she has followed up with the potentially concerned family member recipients. See photo.
-----Original Message-----
From: Nim Parsons
Sent: Friday, November 14, 2008 7:58 PM
To: April Hernandez; Henry Pacayra; Celia A. Pacayra
Subject: Greetings from Mumbai waterfront!
Dear All-
Enjoying Mumbai--right now on tour on ferry ride full of attorneys.
Cheers,
Our Thanksgiving celebration had a special meaning this year.
A scary footnote: We learned on December 1st that , the U.S. intercepted a cell call offshore Mumbai from the bad guys on the 18th. The Indians sent out a patrol and the terrorist put off their plans for a week.
But for a little NSA snooping, my presentation would have been tragically interrupted.
I may send flowers and candy to the Puzzle Palace. Phew!
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