300 meters west of...: Lately it Occurs to me What a Long, Strange Trip it's Been

It was bound to happen. Everyone warned me it would. But I didn't listen. I was convinced I was one of the lucky ones. That I was above the advise of others. That somehow it would work out perfectly. And then it happened...

It should have seen it coming. There were signs. But I ignored them, forged on. That will teach me not to ignore the check engine light. Unfortunately it became harder to ignore the excessive amounts of smoke billowing out from under the hood.

As you probably guessed by now, my new [old] car broke down. And it wasn't one of those easy breakdowns, like it just wouldn't start one morning in the driveway, no, this had to be one of those complex driving in downtown, by myself, up a hill on a narrow, one-way road. And the added challenge of not speaking the language made this one hell of a morning.

Thankfully I was able to roll back down the hill and as close to the side of the road as possible, but I guess it wasn't close enough since the front of my car was now blocking one lane of traffic. In an attempt to stop the honking and screaming, I opened up the hook to make it known I wasn't moving anytime soon.

I took a step back and looked around. I was smack in the middle of downtown Heredia with people everywhere, but I never felt so alone. Not knowing what to do next, I got my phone and called the one person I knew I could count on.... Roberto Machado.

Roberto was spending the weekend at his parents in Catargo, about an hour away, but even from afar he managed to save my life (more than a few times in one day). He called a tow truck and told them where I was and where I needed to go. I took a seat on the crub and just tried to busy myself on the side of the road, re-reading the same sign in Spanish, which I think said something about not stopping on the side of the road.. oops.

The tow truck driver arrived surprisingly quickly, accompanied by his 13 year old son, who drove my car onto the flat bed... hmmmm how did he reach the pedals?

It wasn't long before I was sandwiched in between Francisco and his son Pablo on our way to the mechanic I knew of down the street from my house. We pulled up out front and Francisco laughed and said "no mechanico"... ummmmmmm shhhiittttt. Turns out, it wasn't in fact a mechanic, just a service center. But apparently this wasn't a problem, because the car driving baby child sitting to my right, called Mom and asked for their mechanics phone number. Thankfully, just around the corner was their friend, who just happened to be a mechanic, pure coincidence I am sure.

Now the challenge of getting my giant truck off the flat bed on the most narrow road I had seen in Costa Rica yet. I sat back and watched the show...

As shocking as this may seem, Raul (my new mechanic) spoke no English, weird.. I know! But that is ok, Roberto Machado to the rescue once again. Over the phone, he told Raul everything that had happened leading up to the breakdown, gave him all my details and even asked Raul to drive me to my apartment. I kissed my truck good-bye and prayed she's make it to see another day.

Now carless, I was actually forced to sit home and study! But who can study when I had a 4th of July party to plan.

Wanting to bring a little bit of American culture to my new friends, I planned a 4th of July BBQ at our apartment. I spent weeks planning and making decorations. Even bought a charcoal BBQ and all the necessary essentials for a backyard BBQ, including some backyard patio furniture!!