Even I have had enough discussion on what to do in Iraq. President Bush must be utterly full up with suggestions. One of the comments during a discussion about the war among ambassadors and army brass has stuck with me: “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there.” As President Bush is exploring the various roads to success in Iraq, I wonder if that phrase has applied to my own life. Many times I didn’t know where I was going until I was almost there. More often than not, I have lucked out. (Or is it lucked in?) My coming to Costa Rica and the moves I have made since I’ve been here have been pretty much unplanned.

As my retirement approached, I did consider what I was going to do. I knew that continuing to live in the United States was not financially feasible unless I moved to a small town totally off the beaten path and therefore where rents were reasonable. I like a city. Like most people in the U.S. I knew little about Costa Rica, but when one of my poker pals told me her uncle had moved here and was very happy, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to visit. But first I spent a month in Mexico on Lake Chapala with a friend. I did not feel at home there.

I made three visits to Costa Rica and on my third one, as I was walking to catch a bus in Escazu the day before I was to leave, I saw a young woman come out of a house and get into a Volkswagen. She waved to her friend in the house and called, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” As she said that I felt a wave of envy wash over me. I wanted so to be able to say, “I’ll see you again tomorrow.” Again and again. That’s when I knew that I was moving to Costa Rica.

Any move means an adjustment period with discomfort and disappointments as well as the joys that come with the breakthroughs. This is especially true in another country where the language and culture are different. I have had my share of both. From time to time I have felt like the ‘ugly American.’ My physical therapist, Karen, recently gave me the comforting opinion that Ticos generally like gringos because we come here not to take but to add to the economy by buying or renting property and giving people work. She also said that as patients we work harder, have a positive attitude and do our homework. (I am not sure that with that last statement didn’t have the hidden agenda of getting me to work hard on my broken wrist.)

Once arrived, I moved a number of times. I saw my last apartment because I was looking at it in order to recommend it to a possible someone else, but it had picture windows and a balcony and I decided I wanted to live there myself. When conditions became unlivable in that apartment, my new friend Alexis said we were going looking.

After more than a dozen years in Costa Rica, I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I know that if I returned to the States the adjustment probably would be more than I could handle.

Meanwhile on Sunday at the Little Theatre’s Blanche Brown Theatre there was a benefit concert by the Costa Rican string quartet, El Ebano. It was for the Angel of Love Foundation’s Tom and Norman Home for abandoned old people, a cause that Don Paco Havener has supported for many years – and he himself just celebrated his 88th birthday. One of the pieces Ebano, played was entitled “Military March,” but violinist and spokeswoman Mercedes Rodriguez said they didn’t like that title so they were not calling it that and were looking for another name. I thought, “March of the Penguins?” but didn’t suggest it. I also thought, how wonderfully Costa Rican.

There have been two big displays of fireworks in Sabana Park this past week and my bedroom balcony has a ringside seat. I remembered that my other apartment on the hill also had a great panoramic view of the fireworks in the same location. No military fireworks, but a celebration of the coming holidays. Once again I have lucked out — on all counts — in Costa Rica.

Jo Stuart is the author of the popular book about life in Costa Rica entitled, “Butterfly in the City.” To order a copy of her wonderful book please contact her at: jostuart@amcostarica.com

Finally, I bit the bullet and agreed to visit my friend Sandy in Tilaran. Getting there got off to a bumpy start as my original ride lost a muffler in a pot hole, then the second driver, from Grecia, spent an hour trying to find my apartment building. But eventually Alonzo and I set off, only to find ourselves caught in the bottleneck on the highway in front of the airport. The trip though the mountains is a joy of vistas that change constantly when they are not blocked by semis. Trucks, of all sizes dominate the two-lane highway over the mountains and dictate the flow of traffic. (Slow.) Reestablishing the train that used to go from San Jose to Puntarenas, I think is a must.

Once into the Canton of Puntarenas, the scenery changes dramatically. Here there are rolling hills, large pasturelands, and fewer trees. Houses are few and far between. Beginning in the 1960s and encouraged by foreign investment and demand, Costa Rican farmers decided to diversify and raise beef cattle. Guanacaste was where most of the cattle ranches were located. Pastureland replacing forests has been blamed for the persistent droughts in the area. Another unfortunate side effect was the loss of work for many peons since fewer hands are needed to round up cattle than to grow coffee, bananas or rice.

Having heard that the road conditions were terrible, I expected the worst and found the roads quite good – until we got to Tilaran and the road that leads to and from the house where Sandy and Roger live. I have never seen potholes the likes of those, and so many of them! Later, when Sandy and I drove to the restaurant “The Black Horse,” I had to close my eyes to keep from having a heart attack as time and again Sandy had to drive off the ridge of the road to avoid potholes. Beyond the ridge there was nothing to stop us from rolling down the steep hill leading to Lake Arenal neither tree nor a herd. Sandy has lost two tires to potholes in the past few months. Intrepid indeed, are the tourists who venture into that territory in rental cars.

The house that Roger built is a work of art. The ground floor is taken up with the garage and utility rooms. The second floor is the living space, all of it open except for the bedrooms and adjacent baths. A verandah runs around the entire building. All of the woodwork was done by Roger – well, the entire house was. And it is warmer and snugger than my breezy apartment. It has to be, I guess, since Tilaran means ‘place of wind and rain,’ and it usually lives up to its name.

Willy and Monica, along with their triplet daughters, run The Black Horse Restaurant and the adjoining gift shop. The family (along with Sandy and others) is involved in rescuing stray animals, getting them neutered and finding them homes since as yet there is no animal shelter in the area. Sandy and Roger have three cats and two dogs – so far.

The restaurant was a great place to comfortably bird watch. While we were eating, we saw a half dozen different birds at the bird feeder, including some magpie jays that truly looked and acted as if their ancestors could have been dinosaurs.

The weather turned beautiful my second day, but I was there to work with Sandy on the final proofing of my book, so we spent the time inside.

Returning to San Jose was much easier and faster with Sandy doing the driving (going to Tilaran I had a driver who had never been there before himself). As we approached the city and we saw the first large cluster of homes in the distant valley, I evidently breathed aloud the words, “Ah, civilization.” because Sandy burst out laughing at my incorrigible preference for city life. I did confess to her that the air smelled slightly used compared to the fresh air in the country. The next day it turned cold and rainy in the city – as bad as any weather I had encountered in Tilaran. Sometimes it takes a strong constitution as well as courage to be a city girl.

Jo Stuart is the author of the popular book about life in Costa Rica entitled, “Butterfly in the City.” To order a copy of her wonderful book please contact her at: jostuart@amcostarica.com

By Jo Stuart

Although I had no intention of becoming so, I am now familiar with all of the hospitals, except the children’s, in the metropolitan area. My experience includes three hospitals with the Caja and three private. If there are more, I don’t want to know about them. My doctor at Hospital Mexico referred me to a doctor at San Juan de Dios, the last to complete my repertoire. Actually, the referral was some papers giving me permission to seek an appointment.

Each hospital seems more confusing than the last upon first entering.
San Juan de Dios is right at the foot of Paseo Colon and is a mammoth structure, although upon first entering, the reception area and hallways are not large. There was, fortunately, a window indicating that it gave information to patients. That was my first stop. The man behind the window sent me on my way to another office, and told me to return after I had my papers properly stamped.

The man in the designated office told me I had to go out of the building to another office. When I returned to the first window, Carlos (as I was to learn was his name), looked slightly annoyed and told me he would take me to the correct place. For the next hour Carlos led me to the various offices, sat with me and chatted while we waited. In one waiting room, a pretty teenaged girl asked me where I was from. I told her and she said she had lived in Kansas. “Like Dorothy, you are not in Kansas anymore,” I joked. She was Tico American. Then I asked her how she liked living in Costa Rica after Kansas. She said she preferred it here because the people were “so happy.”

Finally, we made it to the window that would give me my appointment (by now I had a folder with my name on it – I was in the system!) A woman was just closing the window and there was a sign that said that there would be no more appointments given out until April 18.

I was not all that upset because Carlos had made my passage quite pleasant. A long time ago I wrote about “Tico Moments” in a column, referring to the kindness extended beyond the ordinary by a Tico.
Carlos’ help qualified.

Then, on Sunday I decided to stay downtown after the concert.
The city is obviously emptying and closing down. The National Theatre was almost empty, but those of us who were there thoroughly enjoyed the violin and piano recital.

By the time I was on my way home, the rain had begun. The first rain of the season and it entered boldly – and I was without an umbrella. I got on the Cementerio bus just before the downpour, but when I got off at the new bus stop on Avenida 2 east of Soda Tapia, it was raining hard. Fortunately, there was a bus stop for the Estadio bus at the same stop.
I sought dryness under a small awning about fifteen feet from the bus stop. Shortly a man came out of the building attached to the awning and asked if I would like to seek better refuge on the porch. I explained that I would not see the bus coming if I did, so he came out and stood with me and when the bus came down the street hailed it, stopping it before the bus stop. The bus driver was most gracious when I scrambled on. There weren’t many people on the bus and they were all discussing the recent bus accident that landed the bus among the trees of the Sabana Park or being entertained by a little boy of about six.

When I stood up right after the driver stopped at the parada in front of ICE building, he slowed down and asked if I had missed my stop. I said no, I wanted the next stop – well, I really wanted to get off at the corner (a good 75 feet before the next stop). With encouragement from the other riders, the driver kindly dropped me off at the corner. I am sure the Pavas bus driver would not have done so. I hurried home in the lessening rain, not minding getting wet because I had had my share of Tico Moments to keep me warm and cheerful. Perhaps it is the coming of Easter, but everyone who is left in the city seems to be even more kind and helpful than normal. I’ve never lived in Kansas, but I do find it easy to be happy here.

Jo Stuart is the author of the popular book about life in Costa Rica entitled, “Butterfly in the City.” To order a copy of her wonderful book please contact her at: jostuart@amcostarica.com

By Jo Stuart

I arrived home early Tuesday morning. The flight returning was not nearly as pleasant as that going to the States. First of all, the plane was full. At least Economy was full; Executive Class had only about three people in it. Recently I have made this rather Quixotic decision to do a good deed when the opportunity presented itself. This time I said I would give up my aisle seat to a young couple who was very upset because they had been assigned separate seats and were complaining to all the flight attendants (and probably the pilot, too, since they were holding up our take-off). So I got to endure an overnight flight in a middle seat.

Everyone was sleeping except me and a very large man who spent the night standing in the area by the toilets. I thought it was because his seat was too small, but maybe he was just airsick. On one of my excursions down the aisle to get my circulation going, I was sorely tempted to ask him if I could have his aisle seat. Sometime during the wee hours the plastic glass of water on the tray of the woman next to me tipped over and spilled all over her and half over me. She spent the rest of the night sitting on her Ladies Home Journal and fanning her jeans with the airline’s safety instruction folder. I thought this was a great opportunity for Lacsa to do some fine public relations by putting someone into the nearly empty Executive Class; Lacsa didn’t see things my way.

Once home in my apartment, I intermittently napped and ate. I thought again that it would be interesting to research the idea that when one basic need is frustrated, we substitute another. In this case I couldn’t sleep so I was eating whatever I could find in my bare refrigerator and cupboard.

It takes me about three days to unpack and get back into my regular routine. It was not until I saw three of my little sparrows keeping dry on my balcony while the rain came streaming down that I felt like I was in my apartment.

The next day I had to replenish my cupboards. I had clipped an interesting column written by Drs. Joe and Teresa Graedon (he, a pharmacologist and she a medical anthropologist) in the Pasadena newspaper. It was entitled, “Prudent exposure to sunlight may be good.” We all know what that means – medical science is changing its mind again. In this case a Dr. Edward Giovannucci, in his keynote speech to the AMA for Cancer Research, said that exposure to the sun might prevent 30 cancer deaths for every one caused by skin cancer. It’s the vitamin D, stupid. Most people don’t get enough of it – and certainly in countries where people stay indoors and in cars most of the time, they don’t.

This new information pleased me because I have long thought that sunscreen does more harm than good, and that exposure to the sun in Costa Rica has probably helped prevent osteoporosis in both men and women. (Vitamin D is also necessary for the absorption of calcium). It will be interesting to see if the increased use of cars in this country is going to affect the health of the people on yet another front. Of course, as in most situations, moderation is important.

We actually need more than twice the currently recommended 400 International Units IUs) of vitamin D daily. Sunshine is important because it stimulates the production of Vitamin D in the skin. High SPF sunscreen reduces the amount of vitamin D the skin can take in. One can overdose on vitamin D taken orally, but the skin only makes as much as the body can use.

Armed with this knowledge I headed for the Auto Mercado without sunscreen – which I normally am, anyway. On my way home in a taxi with my 18,000 colones worth of groceries (about $37 — more than I have ever spent at one time), the warm pillowed breeze coming through the open window of the taxi felt like a caress. That is when I really felt I was back home in Costa Rica.

Jo Stuart is the author of the popular book about life in Costa Rica entitled, “Butterfly in the City.” To order a copy of her wonderful book please contact her at: jostuart@amcostarica.com

By Jo Stuart

From the number of letters about gallo pinto that have come in, it is obvious that my experience struck a nostalgic chord with many gallo pinto lovers. Rigo informed me that this dish of rice and beans actually originated in Nicaragua, where it is just as popular as it is here. That is interesting because another favorite Tico dish – Tres Leches – a cake made with three kinds of milk – also originated in Nicaragua.. James, whose family is from Cuba sent me what looks like a great recipe for Cuban black beans. Even my son Justin wrote to tell me he loved gallo pinto when he was here and would like the recipe.

Paul, an egg lover, lamented the “lacy edged” eggs he always gets at the bed and breakfast where he stays when he is here. He’d like to introduce Tico cooks to American fried eggs. But my friend Sandy says she that didn’t know anything but fast-fried lacy edged eggs when she was growing up in Texas.

She also said, “there is gallo pinto and gallo pinto.” Unlike most of the other people of Central America, Costa Ricans, as a rule, do not like hot (picante) food so some gallo pinto is pretty bland. When it is prepared with enough onion, garlic and Tabasco sauce then it can be delicious for those with heat-seeking taste buds.

Pearl wondered if things have changed much in Costa Rica since 2002. Funny she should ask about that. I haven’t been downtown much during the past months – I often am not ready to leave my apartment until the afternoon and by then, in the rainy season, the rains have started. Theoretically the rainy season is over and I was downtown the other day walking along Avenida Central. In some places where stores had once been were tall metal fences, behind which, obviously new stores or businesses are being built. In other locations, where once there were narrow dimly lit stores selling stockings or T-shirts, or baked goods, now I saw large brightly lit stores with row after row of the latest fashions in clothes or shoes – with, I suppose, prices to match. This is in the same area where the brand new indoor “commercial center” PlazAvenida is. And speaking of commercial centers, new huge shopping centers are popping up in many communities around San Jose.

As I looked at all of these shiny new things, I wondered why I felt sad rather than pleased. Perhaps it was because I was also looking around at the people on the promenade. Nobody (including myself) seemed to be buying or wearing any of the items for sale. Are these stores preparing for the future? Like the upscale luxury hotels, spas and gated communities?

But there have been some changes that I appreciate. Like the covered benches at the bus stops. It’s really nice to be able to sit while waiting for a bus. But the roofs over them are not very effective in the rain, thanks to the wind that usually accompanies it.

And there is a change that takes place every year, usually at the change of seasons, and that is the trees that come into bloom. There is the pink roble, the brilliant orange llama de bosque, and the yellow malinche. Drive anywhere and you will see these gorgeous trees in their full glory. And not to be undone, the ever present bougainvillea seems to be wearing its most brilliant colors. Mother Nature has been pretty cruel in many parts of the world, including the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica, but right now, in the Meseta, she is dressed in her glorious best.

Pearl says that she misses the “pace and peace” she found here, even in 2002. You can still find it here in 2005. Peace is a tradition here, along with gallo pinto.

Jo Stuart is the author of the popular book about life in Costa Rica entitled, “Butterfly in the City.” To order a copy of her wonderful book please contact her at: jostuart@amcostarica.com