Photo Booths and Funny Faces

When I was growing up, my mom and dad always had a photo on the fridge of the two of them in a photo booth out on a date one night when they were in their early 20s. They look so young and happy in the photo. I think everyone should have a photo like that on their fridge.

Got $100k? Would You Like a House or a Landcruiser?

Costa Rica is a strange place.

Mothers legally cross the freeway (the freeway!) with their 3-year-old and their 1-year-old in tow...

yet...

it is illegal to drive while talking on your cell phone.


You can buy a house here with 4 bedrooms and 3 baths for $100,000...

yet...

a brand new Toyota Landcruiser costs $100,000.


Traffic on the freeway can sometimes back-up for 20-30 minutes behind a toll booth on the freeway...

yet...

they are only collecting a toll of 75 colones. Which is roughly 15 cents.


The country is technically advanced enough that you can walk into any grocery store and pay your phone bill, your electricity bill, your cable bill, etc...

yet...

to change the name on our cable bill from our landlord's to yours, you have to visit both the cable company's office and a laywer's office and sign 4 documents. With your landlord in tow.


The cell phone company is advanced enough to send out "Happy Whetever-Day" text messages to everyone's phones on holidays...

yet...

Cell phone calls only go through two times out of three.


You can call virtually any restaurant in the country and they will deliver to your house...

yet...

The power goes out a couple of times a week. For a couple of hours. Minimum.


We get ABC, NBC, and CBS...

yet...

ABC is blocked out every night from 7:00pm to 9:00pm. Although I guess I should just be glad that we get ABC in the first place.

Weird.

Growing Up

I had a rough childhood.

First, I was almost eaten by an alligator at a very early age. A near death experience like that made me think about entering the seminary, but I knew I couldn't cut it. Instead, I thought seriously about attending Duke University, but decided against it in favor of joining the Navy.

When I got out of the Navy, I had a bad drinking problem and one night was arrested Nick Nolte-syle. Coming out of rehab, I cleaned up my act and walked the straight and narrow. Even dressed the part for awhile. OK, maybe quite awhile. OK, probably too long.

I tried becoming a professional golfer, but was told that only professional basketball players where their socks that high. So I tried playing in the NBA for awhile, but that too didn't work out.

Shortly thereafter, I landed a guest role on The Partridge Family, but they killed off my character during the first season. That led to a stint with a Triple A baseball team, but we only had four players so we didn't win very often.

Coming off golf, basketball, and baseball, I was feeling pretty on top of the world and the world needed a lot of help, so I became a super hero, but had to quit shortly after I outgrew my size 3 suit.

The next spring, I landed a spot on the US Track and Field team and the following winter skied with the US Ski Team, but at that point I had had it with sports.

So I re-enlisted in the Navy. I just couldn't support the US war efforts, however, so I left the Navy and protested instead. Protesting was exhausting so I took some time off to go fishing for a few weeks.

Coming back, I really missed my time on The Partridge Family, so I went back to find my roots in the theater. I played Danny Zuco in the Broadway cast of Grease. I tried being a puppeteer. I joined a small traveling group of Evel Keneval impersonators, but quite frankly, I just couldn't stop laughing. I joined a ragtime band. I performed with a Chinese acrobat troop. I went back to Broadway and played Oliver Twist. I worked at a local McDonald's as Ronald McDonald. I even played a leprechaun at St. Patrick's Day festivals.

By the end of it all, I was exhausted so I went fishing again for several months this time. I needed to rest my mind for awhile, so I took up the arcane hobby of making chairs from milk cans. It didn't last.

It wasn't long before calls for Superman's return were rampant across the nation. I knew I couldn't keep up with it all. So I cloned myself.

One of me moved to Hawaii and took up surfing. The other version of me was last seen continuing to abuse the use of the sweater vest.

And now you know why I am how I am.

Some Random Things About Living Abroad

Here are some random observations about living/traveling abroad:

• I am much more aware of what time zone I am in at all times.
  
  
• I now know what the "+" sign means in phone numbers. Don't know? E-mail me and I'll explain.
  
  
• As Americans, we completely take for granted how lucky we are to cross any border into any country—no questions asked.
  
  
• For the first 29 years of my life, I carried my passport with me once—on a month long trip to Europe after college. Now I carry it with me all the time. Or at least a copy of it in my wallet when I'm in Costa Rica.
  
  
• I always have weird money in my wallet.
  
  
• As Americans, we live in a bubble of self-interest with little knowledge/care for the world outside our borders. Or as one non-American said to me today, "In fourth grade Americans learn every step in the legislative and judicial system, but they can't tell you where Canada is." Don't get me wrong—I'm as pro-American as can be. We just don't realize there is an entirely other world out there.

Did You Know That...?

Every now and then I learn something and I think to myself, "How in the world could I have gone 29 years on this planet and not have learned that yet?"

Well I had one of those the other day.

Kerri and I used to have two cars. One car had the gas tank on the left hand side; one car had it on the right hand side. For some reason, I could never remember which was which so I was perpertually turning to her and saying, "Is the gas tank on your side?" every time we pulled into a gas station.

The other day, we were driving in Costa Rica with our friend Kimberly and we needed gas so we pulled into a gas station. I turned to Kerri, "Is the gas tank on your side?"

Before Kerri could answer, Kimberly pipes in, "Just look at the fuel gauge on your dashboard."

"What?"

"Just look at the fuel gauge. There is a little arrow pointing to the side the gas tank is on."

Wow. I've probably asked that question 200 times in my life. And all I had to do was look for a little arrow on the fuel gauge? If you figure the entire conversation takes 20 seconds, that's 4,000 seconds. 66 minutes. An hour!
Don't you think someone at the car dealership could have told me that?

I want my hour back.

And on top of that, I'm convinced that, say, 50% of you out there that are reading this are leaning it for the first time also. So I am hereby making this post my personal crusade to re-educate the planet on this crucial issue.

Spread the word.

Like I Said, It's All About the Amplitude

My brother Jeff and his wife live in Germany. They moved there in August 2005 for Jeff to take a new job within Adidas at their world headquarters in Nuremberg. In the last year, the two of them have gone through quite an experience moving out of the US and transitioning into a foreign country. Blythe often writes about it on her blog.

Wait—this is starting to sound familiar. Ok, ok—I clearly got the idea of starting my blog from Blythe. We were both English majors—we're used to "borrowing liberally".

Earlier today, Blythe made a post to her blog ("Anniversary") that really hit home for me. As a result, I'd like to "borrow liberally" again (Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right? Right.) and expound upon my feelings on the same topic. Thanks Blythe. I owe you two ideas for blog postings now. Or maybe just one of those smoothies you like so much from Starbucks.

So living abroad—what's it really like? Well, in our post-blog conversation, Blythe put it best: "Sometimes the hardest part isn't living abroad—it's admitting to people that living abroad isn't always as glamorous as it seems."

Or as I like to put it—it's all about the amplitude. (What is amplitude?)



When you live abroad (or really, take on any new challenge in life), the amplitude of your every day experiences increases dramatically. You go from a life with a relatively low amplitude to a life with high amplitude. You go from a life that is more "hum drum" (not in a bad way, it's just consistently consistent) to a life that is full of very low lows and very high highs.

The hard thing is determining whether or not the net yield of the low-lows plus the high-highs equals the net yield of hum-drum.

Life for Me in the States
+1 + -1 = 0

Life for Me Abroad
+5 + -5 = 0

But the funny thing is, the human mind and spirit doesn't work that way. Even though the net yield is still 0, you are not the same after the experiences.

My Conclusion: Living abroad is a good thing to do—for a defined period of time. Not your whole life. And if you have defined that period of time in your own mind (1 year? 3 years? 5 years?), it makes it that much easier to get through the low times because you know it is not forever and you are—temporarily—trading those low times for the high times.

PS—As I finished writing this, I just looked out my office at home to find a huge spider walking across the hall. This proves my earlier point. Needless to say, he is no longer with us.

Car-less

While Kerri and I have been in Denver this past week, we took the opportunity to turn in the Mercedes at the end of our lease. For the three years we drove it, it was a great car. And we weren't too bad to it—showing it Salt Lake City, Dallas, Napa, and Denver. :-)

Bye Bye Mercedes!

We have not yet bought a car in Costa Rica so—for the time being—we are car-less. It's a bit odd—this is the first time we have not owned a car since 1997. Hopefully we'll be able to find a car in Costa Rica soon. We've been taking taxis for the last 7 months which hasn't been the end of the world because our time in Costa Rica has been so erratic, but it has gotten very old very quickly and its now time to pony up and buy something. Problem is, 1) cars in Costa Rica are very expensive (40-50% more than in the US), and 2) financing is very difficult to get and even more expensive.

Before our travel schedule got crazy in June and July, Kerri and I went out searching for a car last May. We were beyond lucky when we rolled up to the first dealership we saw, found a 2002 Mitsubushi Montero Sport that we loved, and at a price we felt we could afford. We had a mechanic come by to look at the car, he gave us the thumbs up, so we put a $200 deposit down to hold the car. Yes, a $200 deposit.

We started talking on the way home and Kerri reminded me of some guidance we had heard from another ex-pat to do your due diligence when buying a car in Costa Rica as a lot vehicles in Costa Rica came from Louisiana in 2005. We asked why that would matter and he reminded us that Hurricane Katrina had hit Louisiana in 2005. Insurance companies wrote off the cars that were in the hurricane as losses, then turned around and sold them at auction to dealers who cleaned them up, and then turned around and shipped them to Mexico, Central America, and South America to sell. Apparently, to sell to unsuspecting ex-pats.

So we went home, logged-on to CarFax.com and ran the VIN number from the Montero Sport. Not only did the vehicle's last known address appear as New Orleans, Louisiana, but the last registered mileage reading on file from 3 years previous was 128,000 miles. The odometer now read 78,000 miles. Not only had the vehicle been salvaged from the hurricane, but somewhere between Louisiana and Costa Rica, someone had turned back the odometer 50,000 miles—at least.

We called the dealership and got our $200 back. Rest assured, we'll be checking the VIN on any further cars we look at.

Jumping Back Into the Pool

Whenever Kerri and I come back into the US, it takes me about 24 hours to re-adjust. 24 hours before I stop telling the taxi driver "derecha", "izquierda", and "directo". 24 hours before I stop saying "Buenas" to every cashier I walk up to. 24 hours before I stop pulling out the colored bills from my wallet and instead start reaching for the boring green ones.

And then the same thing happens again when I go back to Costa Rica. For 24 hours, I forget how to speak Spanish altogether. I walk out of the airport and break into English with Christian, our Costa Rican driver. He just gives me this look as if to say, "So do you think I learned how to speak English in the two weeks you were gone?" Disculpe, Christian—mi culpa. But by the next morning, it has all come back to me.

It's like jumping into a really cold pool. Right when you jump in, all you can think to yourself is, "What was I thinking???" Then after about 2 minutes, you've adjusted to the temperature, it feels fine, and you're now talking everyone else into getting in the pool because "the water is actually quite pleasant." Right.

The next time you go to jump in, you know it will eventually feel fine—but the first 2 minutes are still rough. And so are the first 24 hours off the plane.

Loading Up (or Not?) in Dallas

When we moved down to Costa Rica, we put a bunch of our stuff in storage at our friend Megan's house in Dallas. Wait--let me re-phrase that. When we moved down to Costa Rica, Kerri drove a 20-foot long U-Haul truck by herself for 3 days from Denver to Dallas and got stranded in Kansas when she hit a tornado while I was sunning myself down in Costa Rica. OK--I was probably actually working, but that's not the version she tells. ;-) Since Dallas is a common point-of-entry into the United States from Costa Rica, we figured that we would pick up a little stuff each time we went into the States and bring it back down with us.

So on this last trip back to Costa Rica from Las Vegas, we stopped in Dallas for 2 nights to pick up a load of our stuff. As we started to rifle through the 20 or so boxes in Dallas, we quickly realized how little of it we actually needed. We'd been living down in Costa Rica now for 6 months with maybe 10% of the stuff we own and were doing just fine. In the end, we filled one more extra suitcase and took our golf clubs.

Now, granted, it is great to always have access to all of your stuff. To be able to pull out the blender/cuisinart/insert other random appliance here/etc. whenever you need it. To be able to spend a random Saturday afternoon looking through a box of old high school memories. Or to hold on to that favorite shirt that you haven't worn in over 2 years and that is filling your closet but that you just can't seem to part with.

But in the end, Costa Rica has been a great lesson for us in really how little "stuff" we actuallly need to get by in life.

(Megan--So sorry to have left you with so many boxes. We'll put them in storage the next time we come through Dallas. And dinner at Three Forks is on us the next time we are in Dallas!)

Big Business Comes to Town

A store called EPA recently opened up near where we live in Costa Rica. EPA is basically Home Depot meets IKEA. All of the same stuff as a Home Depot but in the blue/yellow/white color scheme of IKEA. Some people in Costa Rica don't like it. They make the commonly heard argument about big business pushing out the local merchants.

Late last year, Wal-Mart bought a stake in Central America's largest grocery store chain. According to a conversation that I had with a guy who works for Wal-Mart in Central America, they are now building 6 Wal-Marts in Costa Rica.

About 5 years ago, Costco opened up a Pricesmart here in Costa Rica.

I have to be honest. As much as I don't like to see small retailers and local merchants get squeezed out, I like EPA. I like Pricesmart. And I'm sure I'll like Wal-Mart when it opens. Why? Because convenience is important. And you don't realize you don't have it until--well--you don't have it. And Kerri and I noticed it right away when we moved to Costa Rica. It was hard to get anything done because we didn't know where anything was and--when we would finally get there--they wouldn't have the size/color/quantity/etc. we wanted.

Now I guess we'll have that a bit more.

Although Wal-Mart isn't entirely taking over the world. As 100,000 square foot warehouses start popping up all over Costa Rica, Wal-Mart quits Germany and South Korea.

How Do You Meet People?

Having lived in 6 different cities in the last 6 years (San Francisco, Denver, Salt Lake City, Dallas, Napa, Denver again, Costa Rica), Kerri and I often get asked the same question: "How do you guys meet people when you move somewhere new?"

It isn't easy. Kerri and I always joke with each other that we've done a great job learning how to be each other's best friend because for the first 3 months in a new city, we're the only person the other knows! And we've found that it honestly takes about 9-12 months to really settle into a new place. Find your favorite restaurants, your movie theater, your grocery store, your dry cleaner, and--oh yeah--meeting some people. And in the case of Costa Rica, learning a new language!

And the meeting people thing isn't easy for me. I'm not the type of person who is just going to go out to a bar, walk up to some people, and say, "Want to be my friend?" For anyone who has been at a multi-family gathering with the Butlers, you're more likely to see me sitting in the corner with Jeff Butler talking about Arsenal vs. Barcelona in the Champions League final or how to play AK offsuit in late position with a raise and reraise in front of you than you are to see me chatting up third-cousin twice-removed Hilda at the punch bowl.

But you only make friends if you put yourself out there. And that's what we've done everywhere we've lived. In Denver the first time, Kerri joined the Junior League. In Salt Lake City, we joined the Mormon Church. In Dallas, we moved all of our friends to Dallas. In Denver again, Kerri started modeling. In Costa Rica, we joined an Ex-Pats Group that gets together a couple of times a month. OK, so 3 out of 5 ain't bad. And maybe we didn't actually join the Mormon Church. And I guess 2 out of 3 of those was really Kerri putting herself out there rather than me. Well, good thing I married someone I can tag along with.

Our newest friends in Costa Rica are Adam and Carla whom we met through the Ex-Pats Group. Here's us at dinner at Samurai Fusion (Kerri's hands-down favorite restaurant and the best sushi in Costa Rica). Adam is an American living in Costa Rica producing documentaries about the country and his wife Carla is a Columbian who lives in Costa Rica but handles her company's business interests in Africa.

Samurai with Adam and Carla

Home, Sweet Home

Kerri and I are back home in Denver for a couple of weeks! Due to booking our tickets separately, I took off an hour and a half before she did from the Juan Santamaria Aiport in Costa Rica and went through Phoenix, she went through Dallas, and amazingly we arrived in Denver 5 minutes apart from one another.

Man, does it feel good to be home and sleep in your own bed after 6 weeks in a foreign country. And a week of that in a foreign hospital!

I'm Going to Disney World!

The Steelers outlasted the Seahawks in a defensive battle in the Super Bowl today. The only reason I bring it up is because my good friend Zach (best man at my wedding) is the biggest Steelers fan I've ever met in my life. And I took the Steelers and the points. At 21-10 and a 4.5 point spread and the Seahawks with the ball, I had a tense final 60 seconds.

¡Si!

Today is the presidential election in Costa Rica. Things are crazy here. People are out and about everywhere, waving flags, handing out flyers, etc. They have a law where they stop selling alcohol in the country on Thursday night and then don't resume again until Monday morning after the election is over. Kind of ironic considering it's the same weekend as the Super Bowl.

The Costa Ricans even have a carpool system set-up to get people to the polls, especially people that live outside San Jose and other towns. People attach huge colored flags to their car of the candidate they support and then drive around picking up anyone else who wants to vote for their candidate and take them to the polls. Rumor has it that Oscar Arias will win. As foreigners, we obviously can't vote. But folks tell us that Arias is the way to go—he's very "pro-American" and is trying to pass further legislation to encourage immigration and investment by Americans into Costa Rica.

Was That Bernie Ebers I Just Saw at Hooters?

There's a lot of ex-pats living in Costa Rica. Americans for sure, but also lots of Canadians, Australians, Brits, etc. There's a funny saying down here about the ex-pats: "Everyone here is either not wanted back where they're from, or they are wanted back where they're from."

Take my hair stylist for example. She came down to Costa Rica, opened a salon and spa, was hauled back to the United States by the Feds for securities fraud, spent three years in jail, then came back to Costa Rica to her salon.

But she's a nice lady. And she gives a good haircut. So who am I to judge?

Hooters in Costa Rica?

So probably the strangest thing about Costa Rica so far is the restaurant selection. Within 1 mile of where we live, we have:

• TGI Friday's
  
• Tony Roma's
  
• Outback Steakhouse
  
• Hooters
  
• McDonald's
  
• Burger King
  
• Kentucky Fried Chicken
  
• Taco Bell
  
• Subway
  
• Quizno's

It's like we never even left the US!

(I say "the US" because you don't say "America" down here. When you say "America", they say, "You are in America." Central and South Americans are a little senstive about the whole North/Central/South America thing.)

But to really make things interesting, Tex-Mex food (my personal favorite) is nowhere to be found in Costa Rica. OK, yeah, we have Taco Bell, but that doesn't count. I've looked everywhere and asked everyone and I always get the same answer, "Yeah, we don't really have Mexican food down here." It's 500 miles to the Mexican border and you're trying to tell me that Mexican food has never made it down here? Not a taco, an enchilada, or even a chalupa or two? I e-mailed the CEO of Chevy's and informed him of the market opportunity. He hasn't responded yet.

And on top of that, every restaurant is Italian. I'm exaggerating a little. We have found a sushi place and an Indian place and people have told us about a great Thai place. But we have probably been to 10 different Italian restaurants so far. Costa Ricans love their Italian.