Life is a Highway, I Want to Ride it All Night Long, if You're Going my Way, I Want to Drive it All Night Long

Not wanting to get another ticket for driving without proper identification, I embarked on an adventure to obtain a Costa Rican drivers license. 

After checking the website for a list of requirements I would need: my US drivers license, my CR resident card, a medical exam, and copies of each, I was ready.  Well sort of....  With the advise and semi-detailed instructions from colleagues, I said a prayer and left the office with only a mental map of where I needed to go and a physical list of what I needed to do.  That all went out the window when I pulled up to the Costa Rican version of the DMV. 

First item on the list, get a dictamen médico aka a medical exam.  I was told this would be easy, that there would be people out front that could escort you to the doctor's office and help you get a medical exam. You would think after 4 months I would have been smarter than to think it could be that easy.  As I pulled up I did see a sign that said dictamen médico aqui, but that sign was written in paint...on a piece of broken wood.  No joke! Seeing no other options I parked the car next to that 2nd grade art project, hopped out and looked around for any sign of life.  Seconds later, almost out of thin air, appeared a man, a man with a big smile and a total number of teeth I could count on one hand, mumbling something I can only assume was "stupid American, welcome to the end of your life". 

Trying to stay positive, I responded with the phrase written out on my notecard, "yo necesito un dictamen medico".  Another toothless smile and a wave of the hand and I was following my new friend to what I could only hope was a legit doctor's office.  Who was I kidding, I was surrounded by run down houses and there was no way a legit doctor's office was going to be just around the corner, but I had driven all the way here, might as well see this disaster through.  I followed my friend right to the basement level of one of the houses lining the street.

Doctors Office

There I was introduced to the "doctor".  I say "doctor" because I can't be certain he actually was one.  This man was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, there were no credentials on the walls and I'm pretty sure I was now standing his basement, but god only knows. There was however an eye chart on the wall and he was wearing glasses, so maybe, just maybe he actually was a doctor.  Still time to run back to the car.  But instead I sat down in the chair in front of his desk, I gave him my resident card and I waiting in silence as he filled out some paper work.  As instructed I read the lowest line I could on the eye chart with one hand over each eye.  I sat back down. More paperwork.  He asked me my blood tpe. I said B+.  He said 15,000 colones (~$30).  I paid him.  He signed the paperwork, gave it a stamp and I was out the door 2 seconds later.  Ummm what the hell was that? No pulse reading, no blood drawn (not that I'm complaining), no medical procedures of any kind, and I'm pretty sure I could have made up any blood type.  Well, if it was that easy, maybe the rest of it wouldn't be so bad!

Will I never learn? The answer to that question is brought to you by the letters Y, E and S.

Back in the car, I now had to get past the guard station to the DMV.  I gave the guard a big American smile because 1) he was carry a big ass gun and 2) I have absolutely no idea what he asked me.  But he let me through and on I drove in search of a clue as to what to do next. Figuring I'd be able to use hand gestures to find my way, I parked and headed off in the direction most people were walking.  Wait! Is that a sign that says licencia and is that an arrow pointing in the direction I am walking? Wow the first right move I've made all day. That feeling lasted approximately 5 minutes, the same 5 minutes I waited in line to get to the guard admitting people into the building, the same guard who took one look at my paperwork and laughed.  OK! He didn't laugh, but he might as well have. From what I could make out from my ever-growing vocabulary, I had color copies of my US license, passport and residence card and they needed black and while copies.  Seriously? When has a B&W photocopy ever been better than a color copy? 

I turned and started to walk in the direction he was waving hands.  I managed to walk pretty much back to where I had parked when I saw a sign that said copia. 3 minutes and ~30 cents later, I had 3 black and whites copies of everything I thought I needed.  Time to get back in that line.  Success! This time I was admitted in, only to be told to wait in the chair next to the entrance and not in the line everyone else was, while different guard brought my paperwork upstairs.  Oh jesus what now? Thankfully it was only a 2 minutes in that chair and I was being motioned upstairs, which did not seem to be where anyone else was going. Oh this is going be fun!  Another chair. Another 2 minute wait and I was called in to see The Man.  He asked some broken English questions about where I lived and what I loved most about Costa Rica before stamping my paperwork and telling me to go to cubicle 2.  Wow! This might be it! I might actually get my license! Practically skipping down the stairs I took one look at the line for cubicle 2, which ironically or expectantly, however you look at it, was 3 times the length of the other lines.  As it turned out cubicle 2 was only for expats.  Awesome! I started talking to a few of the women in line who said they had been there since 8 am.  Mind you it was 11 am that point and I had only just gotten there.  Oh shit! Might as well settle in for the long haul. I took a seat on the bench alongside cubicle 2, got out my book and got comfortable, prepared to read for the next 3 hours.  Surprisingly enough the line was actually moving. Slowly, but it was moving.  It was about 10 minutes per person, and there were 7 people in front of me. The strange part was the people would come out for cubicle 2 and leave the building, but about 10 minutes later they would reappear, wait outside cubicle 2 and when there was an opening, jump back in to take their picture, then come out, wait a minute then reach back in and take their finished license.  OK, wait a minute. What the hell is going on here? How does this process actually work? 

I decided to ask my new American friends sitting on the bench next to me. As it turns out the process is: you wait to see the only person who can help expats in cubicle 2, they enter your paperwork into the computer, this take about 10 minutes.  Then you get a receipt, take that receipt to the bank (which is back where my car and the copy place are), pay $8 at the bank, get a receipt from the bank, walk back, wait for a free opening, go back into cubicle 2, take your picture, wait a minute and then your license prints out.  You have GOT to be kidding me. That is stupid.  No.... that is Costa Rica!  Seeing no alternatives and no way of telling anyone this is the stupidest process ever. I settled back into my book and waited patiently for my turn.  If I come out of this experience with anything, it is a new respect for patience. 

What seemed like forever later, but in reality was close to 1 hour, it was finally almost my turn, only 1 person in front of me.  As we watched the last person walk out of cubicle 2, the person in front of me stood up to walk in, but wait, the agent is leaving her desk in cubicle 2. Where she going?! Get back here lady!!!!

We found out 5 minutes later, she had gone on lunch, and that she would be back in 1 hour, and that since she was the only person who could help us we had to wait till she got back. ARE YOU F@#$%@$ KIDDING?  Sadly, it was not a joke and the worst part was my butt fell asleep about an hour ago!

I think I passed out at some point, or maybe I just blacked out from the heat, but somehow I managed to make it through that hour without any violent outbursts.  Our lady was back from lunch and looking a little too smug for my liking.  But it was finally my turn. With my paperwork entered and a receipt in my hand I walked back toward my car to find the bank everyone was talking about.  Pheww there it is!!!! Internal celebration!  Oh but wait, is that a sign in the window? Does the sign say the Spanish equivalent of  "back in 15 minutes"? This can't be happening! Now this is just comical.  I took a seat and waited that 15 minutes for Mr. Bank Attendant to get back from his lunch.  Funny, I just realized I myself haven't actually had lunch yet.  Ok, deep breaths!

When he returned, I practically ran to the window as I thrusted my receipt in his face and then threw money at him.  But I didn't care, I had what I needed. The golden ticket! At the fastest walking pace I could maintain, I got back to the DMV and now I was one of the lucky ones waiting outside cubicle 2 to take my picture! Ha ha suckers! Have fun waiting 3 hours! I jumped back in, smiled extra wide and tried not to blink! Not more than 60 seconds later I was holding in my hand my very own Costa Rican license!!! SUCCESS! I can now legally drive in this country!

Medical exam: $30
Copies: $.30
License: $8
Feeling of getting your license all by yourself: Priceless


Pura Vida (sorry for the lack of pictures!)

Travel the world and the seven seas, everybody’s looking for something

You may have been wondering where I have been for the last few weeks.  I myself have been wondering the same thing.  The only answer I can come up with is that I've been everywhere.

There was a week in Boston: A work off-site in NH (what happens at Mt. Washington, stays at Mt. Washington),  a meeting of the Dining Divas, and a much needed night at the Thirsty Scholar with Sets All Night Long.

All my favorites

Group shot

There was a week at BCR, with a whole lot of grenades (double Jager shots) and a little bit of learning sprinkled in.

Say hello to my little friends

Jaggggerrr Bombs!

And here is a little bit of that learning

A week on Long Island, RIP Aunt Alice.  And finally another week in Boston.  At some point in the middle there were a few days in San Jose, where I did manage to pick up some wheels! Check out my new (old) car.

The Troop

A 1990 Isuzu Trooper, and other than a small dent on the hood (from me, standing on it to change the light at the top of our car port) it's in good shape. And after purchasing a life-time supply of coconut scented air fresheners it actually smells good too. There was of course the small incident of the car not starting after work on the day I picked it up, but again my fault, I forgot to turn the headlights off while I was in the office. And I guess again the next morning when it didn't start, but also my fault, I didn't charge the battery enough before parking at the house.  The positive side of all this is that I met a few of my neighbors when they tried to jump me, the car that is, not a drive-by mugging, and I learned how to say "my battery is dead" in Spanish (mi batería está muerta).  And ever since then it's been just fine!

With the weekend peaking over the horizon, I wanted to get this baby out on the roads, open her up, and she what she could do.  At the suggestion of Rockstar David, Clay and I planned a trip to Tapanti National Park for a lunch/hike.  Google Maps (now and forever to be referred to as the anti-Christ) claimed the National Park was a short 30 minutes away.  This may have been true if 1) Roads had signs.  2) One small wrong turn didn't cause you to be lost for 1 hour.  3) You didn't get pulled over for driving without passport (or you knew how to offer a bride to a cop).  4) The map you drew on napkin made any sense at all.

3 hours and 2 stops for directions later, we were nearly certain we were going the right way and actually believed the entrance would be on our left in 25 kilometers.  Oh you stupid Americans.  It wasn't until our 3rd stop for directions that we were told it would be another 40 kilometers.  That is when we gave up hope and turned the car around.  Fail #1.

Deteremined to salvage the trip, we pulled off at the gate for what appeared to be a different National Park.  But after a brief visit to the ranger station, we found out it was too late in the day to head out into the trails.  Fail #2.  Back on the road and eager for some sort of adventure I took a chance and cut the wheel to the right and took a turn down a dirt road that descended into what we could only hope was part of the National Park.  It wasn't long before we came upon our first sign of life, a man... walking a horse.  Notice I didn't say riding a horse. Nope, just taking a horse for a stroll down the road.  Clay babbled something in Spanish, but all I heard was "perfecto" and "claro", thinking shit, this could be good.  Turns out there was a some sort of sports fishing expedition  up ahead. Now we're talking, I could get into sport fishing! 

If you could have seen the condition of the road we were driving on with mud slides and giant boulders all throughout, you too would have been proud of how the Troop handled herself.  No hesitation, no pause, exactly what I look for in a 22 year old car in a 3rd world country! Pure force!

We quickly came upon a sign that said sport fshing, and then another sign that said parking. So we did! We got out to take a look around, and this is what we found....

Before the disappointment

Dirty hole

Just in case someone comes up and tries to steal a fish

Sport Fishing my ass! It was a dirty pond with fish I think I could have caught with my bare hands.  Fail #3.  The only semi redeeming aspect of the day, that would be forever be known as the day we drove around for 5 hours and saw nothing, was we stopped into a side of the road souvinier shop to look around.  Clay bought a pretty cool cloth coffee drip thing and the store owner gave me a calla lilly because he thought I was pretty. Awwwwwww.

That night the Heredia Soccer team was playing in the National Championship game (a very big deal!), and if they won, it would have been the first time in 22 years.  So we though we'd save the day and go out in town to watch the game with the locals.  Rocking our brand new yellow and red Heredia jerseys, we headed out for the night. 

Badasss

We got as far as Bar Lido.  I dont think i've ever told you about Bar Lido, but this place is magical.  The best part is it's within walking distance from our apartment (if you are up for a brisk 25 minute walk), but also a very short drive. It's hard to describe the exact theme the decorator was going for when they opened this place, because it's more of an iSpy game of name all the weird shit on the walls and hanging from the ceiling.  They've got giant oriole nests, halloween lanters that flicker, some animal horns (not the head, just the horns), actual animal heads, garlic bunches with only a few garlic heads on them, dusty wine glasses that I hope they don't use for customers, tree stumps as bar stools and so much more. None of it makes sense, but I still love it. 

Hey dude!

That night in particular was especially fun because when Heredia won, the place went berserk.  In fact the city went crazy, but I wouldn't find that out until my 3 minute drive home with people running with flags and screaming in the streets.  Congratulations Heredia, glad I got to be part of history!

 More on my neverending travels to come! Stay tuned.

Pura Vida!