Big news here in Costa Rica: The city of San Jose is putting
up street signs! If you've never had to find a location based solely on
"turn left at the red barn"-type of directions, you may not fully grasp
the significance of this step. It's not that the streets have no names, it's
just that nobody knows what they are. Addresses here are given in 100-meter
segments, meant to indicate a city block but it's a loose measure for sure, and
distances are counted from landmarks. For instance, our home address is
"200 meters east of the Catholic Church, on the left side." But that
doesn't get you to our house. What's on the "left side" is a street,
which, unless you know otherwise, looks like a driveway, especially since the
surface quickly disappears from view in a steep incline that hides the houses
below. So there's that. But then, said street has two houses on it; ours
happens to be the last one on the left. Try telling that to a taxi driver - in
Spanish! So it's a big deal to be getting street signs. First thing you know we
may even have numbers on buildings!
The other recent big news for Layne and me was that we
successfully renewed our cedulas, the
plastic identification card that says you are in the country legally. It's
amazing to us that two years have flown by since we got residency here, but
it's true. So with our friend Carmen as hired translator, we started the
process a few weeks ago. I had already called our residency attorney to learn a
little about the process. She explained the documentation we would need, along
with a fee of $129 in colones, and she gave me a phone number to set up an
appointment. Oddly to us, this transaction would be handled by the Banco
de Costa Rica (BCR), a banking institution
instead of immigration. Perhaps that just reflects the key point for the Costa
Rican government: get the money.
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| My Cedula |
Requirements for pensionado or retiree residency in Costa Rica include transferring $1000 per
month into colones and maintaining a paid-up membership in the Caja
Costarricense de Seguro Social, better
known as just the CAJA, the country's universal health care system. So our
first step was for Carmen to call BCR to make the appointment and learn what we
should bring. This included a letter from our bank proving we had transferred
the required amount of money each month, copies of our cedulas, copies of our CAJA receipt and, of course, those
fees.
Next we met Carmen at our bank to get the letter, which
proved to be an amusing example of Tico bureaucratic inefficiency. Layne and I
had printouts of all the deposit confirmations, which included dates and dollar
amounts from our online transfers. When the clerk looked at our paperwork,
however, she told Carmen she was unsure whether they were acceptable. Since the
banks "say" they only keep records going back six months, we had a
moment of panic. If they didn't have the records and wouldn't accept ours, what
would we do? Fortunately, after checking with her supervisor, she said our
copies were fine. Then she proceeded to handwrite each month's date and dollar
amount on a blank sheet of paper to check against the records in her computer.
Never mind that the same information was right in front of her on those
printouts. But finally, after a mind-bogglingly slow process, she typed up our
letter and sent us on our way. Pura Vida!
For the next couple of weeks, Layne and I stressed over
whether we had everything we needed: copies of cedulas, copies of CAJA receipt,
copies of the bank letter, proof of Social Security income from the US Embassy,
a form showing his check is direct deposited here, a letter showing I am his dependent
(in Costa Rica, I'm a married woman so dependent on mi esposo) and of course, the money. We had it all organized
in separate folders, carefully paper-clipped together.
On the day of our
appointment, we had everything with us as we bused with Carmen to the
International Mall in Alajuela where the BCR was located. At BCR, however, the procedure was anti-climactic. After a
long wait, (Pura Vida again), it was finally my turn. The unsmiling clerk
entered in her computer my street address (see above re addresses), asked for
my CAJA receipt and the $129, of course. That was it. No proof of income; no
letter from the bank; no issue of dependency. She took my picture and my
fingerprint - same finger, four times. Go figure. Then in a classic case of
ineptitude, she lost all of the data she had entered, had to restart her
computer and go through it all again. Hey, lady -- hit Save next time!
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| No photos allowed in BCR, but here's the food service at Int'l Mall |
For Layne the process took less than ten minutes. In neither
case did she ask for proof of income or the letter from our bank, even though
that is one of the most stringent requirements. All we could do was shake our
heads in amusement and count our lucky stars that our cedulas will be renewed. For how long? we asked the clerk.
She didn't know. And neither will we until we receive our new cards. Sigh. Pura
Vida indeed.
Check out Layne's book "Moral Turpitude,"
available for only $2.99 at Smashwords.com. High adventure with corporate
intrigue, danger and romance; from the exotic jungles of Borneo and Costa Rica
to the erotic jungles of San Francisco. Sample or purchase at --https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/159570
