Weather Woes and Family Fun

         Well, Toto, we’re not in Costa Rica anymore! In fact, we’re huddled indoors in Portland, Oregon, in a cold rainstorm following a hurried drive across Mount Hood to miss the foot of snow in the forecast. After the balmy weather we’ve become accustomed to in beautiful Atenas, Alajuela Province, Costa Rica, the return to the United States has been a rough adjustment. Who would have thought, here in mid-May, that we’d need muck boots and down coats?

         Tomorrow, leaving Layne behind here in the frigid Northwest, I will fly to warmer climes in Texas. The mid-80’s forecast combined with typical Texas humidity should feel more like Costa Rican weather. From San Angelo in the west, my mom and I will drive to Austin in Central Texas for still more residency work. In the Capital city, I will take my birth certificate to the Secretary of State for certification in my home state. Next, we’ll drive on to Houston to deliver my now-certified birth certificate to the Costa Rican consulate there, which has jurisdiction over Arkansas, Colorado, Kansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Nebraska, New Mexico, Oklahoma as well as Texas. With $40 and a self-addressed, stamped envelope, I should obtain my authenticated document by mail within a few days. If all goes well at the consulate, Mother and I will continue on to Galveston for a short vacation at the beach.

         All of this comes on the heels of other residency adventures last week when Layne and I headed for the local Sheriff’s Department for what we thought would be a simple task: to obtain a “clearance letter” stating that we have a clean police record. Foolishly, we assumed it would be a matter of looking us up online and printing out a computerized report. But, no. If it’s not the bizarre and convoluted requirements of the Costa Rican Immigration Department we’re dealing with, it’s American bureaucratic idiocy we face. In this case, we arrived at the Sheriff’s office only to learn that we needed an appointment and that they were booking dates two weeks out. Not only that, but since the person who would be signing our letter was not a public official, such as the Sheriff himself, but only a “sheriff’s technician,” the signature must be notarized to meet Costa Rican immigration requirements. Therefore we must bring along to our appointment a Notary Public because the Sheriff’s office doesn’t have one on staff. Go figure. Undaunted, we made our appointment for after we return from this trip to Oregon and Texas and we even found a “mobile Notary” online who agreed to meet us there for a reasonable fee.

         Reasonable fee in that case but still the various fees are quickly adding up as we found on our next task, the trip to get our marriage certificate authenticated. The following day we headed up the High Sierras into Nevada where Layne and I were married. At the County Recorder’s office in Minden, we easily obtained a dated and embossed copy of our marriage certificate. Ka-ching, another $15. But the fee at the Secretary of State’s office was where we really faced sticker shock: either pay $95 for 24-hour expedited service or wait five weeks or more for the authenticated document. And if you actually need to obtain the document in one hour, get ready to pay $1000! And you thought slot machines were the only form of legalized highway robbery in Nevada.

         We are determined to get these documents pulled together, certified and authenticated and mailed off to our attorney Monika Valerio de Ford in Costa Rica by mid-June but it has been, and continues to be, a challenge with obstacles at every turn. Yet these confusions pale in comparison to the still-unsettled state of the new residency law in Costa Rica. Earlier this year, our attorney understood the new law to require applicants to join the Caja, the national medical insurance group, as part of the application process. But in a phone conversation with Monika a few days ago, we learned that the latest interpretation of the new regulations indicate that membership in Caja must wait until after residency is achieved. That information, however, was only in a La Nacion newspaper report so next week Monika plans to check with the officials at Caja and with Immigration to see if she can get a definitive answer. In the interim, Layne’s status is unclear since he joined Caja before we left Costa Rica! And to further complicate things, we find that Banco Nacional’s online payment system is not set up for payments by non-residents into Caja and yet Layne’s June payment will soon be due. Wurra, wurra.

         Still, when we look outside at the weather and we calculate the added expenses we face here in the States, our little chalet in Costa Rica looks very good indeed and we can hardly wait to return. Visits with family and friends are the delightful rewards for enduring the trials and tribulations of these frozen northlands! 

Rigamarole Es Necessario!

Thursday, April 29, 2010
(Click on photos to enlarge)

         With our days here dwindling down, Layne and I look wistfully at our three-month sojourn in Costa Rica, appreciating the verdant beauty, ecological diversity and affability of this tropical land even as we face the continuing challenges of the residency process. The last two days have been filled with meetings with our attorney Monika, (in photo below) obtaining forms, faxing documents to the US, standing in lines, making phone calls. Achieving legal status is an intimidating ordeal but it has been made more manageable because of Monika’s organization, thoroughness, patience and generosity with her time. How many attorneys in the U.S. would stand in line with you for nearly an hour to resolve an issue? And at no additional hourly charge! Well, Monika did that this week as we awaited our turn in the crowded Caja Costarricense de Seguro Social Clinica lobby.

         Caja is the first-rate national medical system here in Costa Rica, a socialized program that covers everyone for everything. The new residency law requires foreigners applying for legal status to join Caja, paying a small monthly fee for coverage, a sliding scale based on income. In our case, Layne and I will both have medical insurance for $87 per month, no limit on pre-existing conditions, no annual maximums, and covering doctor visits, exams, hospitalization, dental and eyes. Of course, as we saw yesterday, lines can be long and we understand waits for appointments may be lengthy as well, which is why some people opt for the excellent private doctors also available. Still, for middle- and low-income people, the Caja is a wonderful national benefit.

         So last week, Layne and I set out to get signed up. First, we went to the medical clinic where we expected to obtain the proper forms. The first office sent us down a different sidewalk to another large waiting room. With limited Spanish, I tried to ask the clerk where to get the application. My communication failed but he snagged a nurse who led us down the hall to still another office. There I tried to convey my needs to a kind senora who also could not understand what we needed. Finally, she called a doctor over who spoke English and I learned that we were in the wrong building! Around the corner was the Seguro Social and it was there we could obtain the application form. Off we went, only to find the building with a “Seguro Social” sign apparently abandoned. Luckily, it was adjacent to a Ropa Americana (American clothing) store where I had just bought a blouse the day before. The friendly Tica shop owner noticed my confusion and pointed to the correct entrance, which was set back off the sidewalk and hard to spot. To my dismay, my Tica friend also told me they had just closed for the day only 15 minutes earlier. Patience, patience, patience, I reminded myself.

         The next day we returned and managed to acquire the right form. Alas, it was all in Spanish! But again Monika came to the rescue, patiently walking us through the application by phone. The following day, we returned to the Seguro Social offices to see Senor Sandoval, the inspector who would approve or deny our application. He looked over our papers - rental contract and electric bill proving we live here, a copy of our marriage certificate, Layne’s Social Security income statement which we had obtained from the U.S. Embassy, passports - then typed up a form with Layne’s Caja membership number on it and sent us on our way. No problema, we thought. But at the bank, as we inquired about opening a bank account, the English-speaking officer there noticed that Senor Sandoval had checked the wrong boxes -- one indicating Layne was a single man and another indicating we lived in a house we owned, instead of a rental! Back we went to see Senor Sandoval, and after only a short wait, we obtained a corrected Caja membership form. Still more patience required.

         Next we returned to the Caja Clinica where I was to apply as Layne’s dependent. But the clerk was behind glass and spoke Spanish too softly for me to hear what he said. Monika, help! And she did at our next meeting at few days later, translating the papers the man had given me and waiting in line with us to complete the process. As you can tell, this rigmarole is not for the faint of heart! Still, everyone we deal with is friendly and helpful, sympathetic and yes, patient. The residency process will continue while we’re in the States this summer as we must obtain mandatory documents and have them authenticated by state officials or the Costa Rican Consulate; we will keep you posted on that.

         But here in Costa Rica a sense of adventure seems to define our days, with some unexpected enchantment greeting us at every turn. Just recently, as we were entering the gate to our chalet, a few field workers walked by and we waved and said our “Buenas” greeting. One of the young men walked over to us and as he neared, we realized he had a large snake coiled around his neck and body. He and I chatted a moment in Spanish and I learned that it was perhaps a boa or a python and that the men planned to build a cage and keep it. We suspect these are Nicaraguan immigrant farm workers that we have seen camped in a dilapidated empty house nearby, their hand-washed clothes hanging on a line outside. We wished them “Buena suerte,” or good luck with their new pet. Sadly, we did not have the camera with us so the stunning exotic snake must remain in our memories only.

         There are many things we love here, from the warm climate and laid-back lifestyle to the lush foliage. It seems everything grows here. On our walks and throughout Costa Rica we find “living fences,” built of cuttings from a particular ubiquitous tree. Ticos simply cut branches from the bigger trees and stick them in the ground where they immediately take root, then they string wire from branch to branch creating a sturdy and growing fence line. Creative and effective!

         In our local Tico neighborhood, many animals roam free - chickens such as this beautiful rooster, dogs, cats, goats, even horses are sometimes let loose to graze along the roadside but more often are tied in a rich grazing spot. We often stop to pet these two as we take our daily hike. It’s all part of Pura Vida, a lifestyle that is pretty easy to adopt. 

Expat Hurdles and Yigüirro Birds

Saturday, April 24, 2010

(Click on photos to enlarge)

         After a brief but heavy rain yesterday afternoon, we enjoyed another spectacular tropical sunset, with pale blue sky breaking through gold-edged clouds, their dark hearts presenting a tantalizing threat of another shower, which never developed. As we sat out on the patio, the relentless voices of the early evening birds punctuated our reverie with staccato chirps and ringing trills, a soprano chorus welcoming the night. There are so many such breathtaking sights and sounds here; we find joy in every moment.

         With almost three months in Costa Rica now, Layne and I are more convinced than ever that we want to make a permanent home here as expats, doing some travel writing and blogging, seeking out rewarding volunteer opportunities, basking in the tropical climate, enjoying those amazing sunsets and a national temperament of warmth and good cheer. Of course, “perpetual tourists,” those who stay on as visitors rather than acquiring legal residency, are not so welcome, and for good reason. Such tourists tend to take more from this friendly and generous country than they give. The new residency law, which went into effect March 1, 2010, aims to make it more difficult for those folk who ignore the immigration rules by staying on past the 90-day tourist visa allotment or, as often happens, leaving the country every 90 days for 72 hours then returning and getting a new 90-day tourist visa. Under the new law, tourists will be able to do this twice (or alternatively, pay $100 to renew each time) but the third time they will have to stay out of Costa Rica for at least 15 days, a policy designed to encourage long-term visitors to seek another form of residency. Violators who are caught will pay dearly in money or even expulsion from the country.

         For those of us who choose to go through the rigorous process to obtain legal residency in one of several categories, the procedure can be challenging, lengthy and yet, with the right attitude, downright amusing. Without a good sense of humor, parts of it can be a royal pain! Once Layne and I made our decision this spring, we started looking for a good attorney to help us. Now, you can do all the paperwork yourself, you can deal directly with the Immigration Department, you can achieve residency on your own - BUT it is truly a daunting prospect and a little research will inform you that horror stories abound: paperwork lost, problems with language or translations, bewildering or contradictory instructions from bureaucrats, unresponsive or even dishonest attorneys -- all resulting in long waits for residency.

         The laws and regulations are definitely confusing. Indeed, written rules for implementation of the new residency law are yet to be approved. In February Costa Rica elected a new president and the task of drafting the new regulations has been deferred to her new administration, which will take over on May 8th. Meanwhile, even veteran immigration attorneys are confused as to how the new law will be enforced. Our attorney, Monika Valerio de Ford, who enjoys a top-notch reputation among the Gringos here in Atenas, is unclear on several points herself, such as whether pensionados (retirees) must show a guaranteed $1000 per month income per couple or $1000 for each person. Huge difference, of course.

         Layne and I are nowhere near the end of the process but our experience to date might be illustrative of the hurdles one must overcome along the way. First of all, after hearing of a few unfortunate situations, we would urge thorough due diligence on your attorney. Ask for references; talk to people who have used him or her; look into their track record (how long did it take them to get residency for others?); and most importantly, insist on a written contract that specifies the total amount of money they charge, what services that covers, what extra costs are NOT included, and when the monies are due. A reputable attorney will not require you to pay all the fees up front so don’t. In fact, in our contract, the final 1/3 of the total is not due until AFTER our residency is completed and we have our cedulas, or residency identification.

         Before we even signed a contract, Monika provided us with a step-by-step outline of the process we were facing: what papers we would have to get from the United States, how they would be authenticated, what kind of timeline was involved, and what steps we could handle here in Costa Rica prior to our departure. Our first task was to have eight small headshots made. When we easily had that done at a local photo studio for less than $5, we felt we were on our way to becoming residents. Little did we know what was ahead!

         We were also told to go online and register with the U.S. State Department as tourists living in a foreign country, then print out the confirmation they would send us and bring that to our next meeting with Monika. Foolishly, we failed to do this step promptly and when we realized our error had to scramble to get copies made at a local libreria (stationery and copy store) since we have no printer. At our next meeting we signed the contract, then Monika drove us into San Jose to have our fingerprints recorded by the police department there.

         The fingerprint procedure began with a lengthy wait outdoors along with two dozen Ticos sitting in a few chairs or on a low concrete wall lining the sidewalk. The wait seemed interminable and when we were finally called inside, the scene was a Third World tableau of peeling light green paint on walls and bored bureaucrats seated at ancient metal desks. But they were working on modern computers and the actual process of answering questions and fingerprinting took only a few minutes.

         Next stop: the U.S. Embassy to obtain documents proving our Social Security income but when we arrived, we learned that that section of the Embassy was open only from 8:00 a.m. until 11:30 a.m. each day. Since it was early afternoon by then, that part of our day’s activities were scrapped. The next day Layne and I went in once again, this time by bus and taxi, and got the necessary documents promptly and with little bureaucratic hassle. Quite a contrast from the fingerprinting experience.

         Lest I bore you with too much on the residency process, I’ll end this post with a very happy recent occurrence. Big numbers of the national bird of Costa Rica, the clay-colored robin named the Yigüirro, live near our casa and are the source of many of the melodious birdcalls we hear. A few days ago as Layne and I were sitting inside with the sliding door open to catch the breeze, there was a sudden movement, then a loud clunk as something hit the floor-to-ceiling window. We looked behind the sofa and there was a Yigüirro, stunned from his wrong turn into our living room! Quickly but gently, I picked him up and set him outside in the shade of a plant, hoping that his open mouth and inert body didn’t indicate a mortal injury. For long minutes, he didn’t move. I even went back out and petted him softly but got no reaction so I left him alone. Soon, I looked out to find him gingerly pecking at the ground, apparently picking up small bugs and shortly after that, I was relieved to find that he had flown away. It seemed worthy of a minor award of some kind, saving the life of a national bird!