It’s summer as I remember it. The days are long. The days are warm. I get more of a tan here than I do in Costa Rica (unless we’re at the beach of course). The colors burst every where from the trimmed grass to the drying towels on the beach chairs.

The only thing that’s a little odd is that I want to speak Spanish to people, especially in stores. I have become this cultural mutt. I could never breed Minnesota out of my blood. Much of what I do and who I am is rooted in the backyards and screen porches of my past. Sometimes I feel like speaking Spanish. Maybe I should think about barking instead - being the mutt that I am.

Throw toilet paper in the toilet bowl; sidewalks as far as the eye can see; highways with no potholes; green manicured grass - what is this paradise? Oh wait a minute, it’s a developed country. Oh yes. I’m in the United States.

Accilimating to a culture goes both ways. I’m back where I came from, yet I’m used to where I am now. Since this is not making sense, I suppose it is best to stop writing before I write something I will regret. Finding Internet cable has been a bit more challenging than I expected. Finding a moment without the kids is more challenging than I remember. No school or husband or nanny to take them off my hand for an hour or two. My relatives are super wonderful, but that special needs thing adds just that extra zip in the holiday challenge.

When I stopped in Target to get some diapers, of course the “Baby” section was on the opposite end of the store. My mom waited out in the car with a sleeping Addison and a coughing Coco. I grabbed a pair of sunglasses on my way to the check out with the mega-super size of diapers (was everything always mega-sized???). I opened the bag of M&Ms after checking out. The super-sized bag dumped into my handbag. I could hear them jiggling on the bottom as I walked out. I couldn’t get the red or black price tag off the sunglasses, so I walked out AS IS. For a second I thought: what if I meet prince charming on the way out. I shrugged. Guess he’ll have to take me AS IS.

(Special note: Since my mother’s computer came out of the box when dinosaur’s walked the planet, you may experience spelling or grammatical errors that were out of the operator’s control in fixing. I’m trying to talk her into a new one, we’ll see about that.)

Sunstruck Radio hits again with it’s second program. My great friend Anna Jordan and I put together this spiffy show about what it is like to actually make that move to the postcard you’ve always dreamed of. Cool, crazy, calm and sometimes collected, but always interesting.

Meg Latshaw shares with us what it was like to pack up those boxes and relocate from the United States to sunny Costa Rica. She’s retired and looking forward to a brand new life in Central America.

SunStruck Radio

We grab a few other voices and ask them some interesting questions on what they brought with them; what exactly do they think; and what did they leave behind.

I share a story that spins from downtown St. Paul, Minnesota where I actually lost my cookies on my journey to paradise. It’s not all that easy to pick up everything and move to another country. Even my pets had to adjust.

I hope you enjoy. Perhaps spread the word and subscribe. Paradise is really just a matter of the mind, isn’t it??

P.S. It’s all FREE! So Subscribe now!

I hate to admit it, but I am at McCafe again (just repeating the word gives me the shivers). It’s the only place with Internet close to my daughter’s gym class. I’ve still got one more meeting to go before the night is over. Did you ever have one of those days where EVERYTHING is scheduled on the same day? This morning the Internet was on for like….oh ten minutes. Rather than resort to cleaning my storage room, I went out for run. It was the only time for myself in a day of spinning events wrapped around the children.

Music presentation; gym class; birthday party; gym class; school meeting……..Oh the humanity! I even started out the day backwards and showered before I got all sweaty due to the running and high humidity. I think the nannies must thing I am a bit cuckoo at times. I mean imagine them as they watch me run around, carting kids as if I was mad, trying to get to it all on time as if I was Chicken Little in fear of the sky falling on my head. These ladies come not only from Costa Rica, but el campo. They take buses, and that alone makes what I do impossible. I can’t begin to imagine what it is like for mother’s with kids that have special needs in situations where they have to take the bus. My son is heavy, and the stroller is incredibly awkward. We’d stay home.

absorbing all this faux Italian atmosphere, and hoping the sky won’t fall on my head.

One of the advantages of having someone inside my home, working alongside me with me the kids and helping out with the chores around the house, is that I get to question my habits and the roots of my cultures right down to the sink basket. I grew up thinking that metal little catch-all-the-food gadget was for, well, catching all the food that either didn’t go in the mouth or the garbage. Without that little thing, what horror! What trouble we will have. Every time I approach the sink when either a maid or nanny has washed some dishes, the sink basket disappears. Sometimes it’s in the dish dry rack under all the dishes, and sometimes I can’t even find it.

What “heck” I would have gotten from not only my mother but myriad of landlords who would have shaken their fists at me due to all the clutter I was sending down the drain. Do you know how expensive it is to call RotoRouter?? Have you ever seen the black sludge caused from all those little bits of uneaten food?? Shame on you! Whenever I return to the sink. I dutifully put the thing back in it’s hole. When I return, the maid or nanny takes it out. Guess who’s sink clogged up more? In ten years here, I’ve never had a drain back up. In the States? Oh, the sludge I’ve slogged through.

It’s also a custom to dry all the wet towels fully open, splayed across the counter tops. I, on the other hand, installed two spiffy plastic hooks on the side of the oven. What brilliance! I thought. The wet towels will hang out of site (because even though they have cute little red checks when you get them home from the linen store, after two washing they are just plain ugly) and dry from the warmness of the oven and stove. Do you think anyone but me hangs them there? No. Without out fail, when I return to a sparkling kitchen after someone was kind enough to help with the dishes, I can’t find the sink basket and wet towels cover all the kitchen tops.

Ten years ago, I would have fumed at the missing sink basket, just like my ancestors did. This is cultural adjustment in the most basic form. Lifestyle patterns root deeply in the past, and we pass them on often without even considering if they are useful or not. A friend of mine, an anthropologist turned owner of the Don Carlos hotel in downtown San Jose, said once when I interviewed him that culture is like a ball and chain around our ankles. We just drag it along with us, accepting it as our lot. Shaking loose that ball and chain can be hard and scary. I mean THEY cut the grass differently here; THEY use a different kind of soap; THEY eat rice and beans; THEY don’t return phone calls like WE do. Culture is the music, language and artistic tradition created and carried on through generations, but I also see culture as passing on the things we need, or think we need, to make it through our day. I can now speak the language and manage the climate in Costa Rica, but it’s been a much more interesting journey to challenge my own “culture” and shake loose what I have valued as “so” important.

Working women in Costa Rica don’t have dryers. It’s all powered by the sun and not those high-tech panels that capture the energy so it can be harvested for future use. No. The actual sunshine. Flat means it gets dryer faster. Drive across any country side and you’ll see towels and clothes laying on top of bushes and even over the grass - each grabbing it’s spot on the sun in hopes of getting dry before the afternoon rain begins. A working women has no time to concern herself with a stylish kitchen. It doesn’t matter where the towels hang, as long as they get dry.

The funny thing, is not matter how I try, I can’t get myself to wash dishes without that little sink basket in the hole. I’ll dig it out plop it in there. And when the towels cover the kitchen, I take each one down. And instead of getting all worked up that things weren’t done as I would do them, I appreciate the care that went into the act and the history behind it. And the dishes pile up the the sink regardless of what I think.

I’m thinking these guys are crazy! They are going to drive down the highway like that? Up and down mountain passes, along the freeway, and through the narrow city streets?

That’s insane! Heck there’s room for one more bag up there. What were they thinking anyway?

Being a parent means I get to be an expert in everything - or at least in the eyes of my children. Coco’s learning a song for a father’s day breakfast. The moment she got off the bus, she starting singing off-key (sadly she’s inherited my genes here) to You’ve Got a Friend. I joined in. She looked up at me because not only did I know the chorus, but I knew other versus, all the versus. For a few moments - before I explained to her that the song was written by one of the most successful female song/writer singers in the last fifty years named Carol King and the album was this huge success - I was in that goddess status of: mommy knows EVERYTHING.

I waited until I got into the house to explain that Tapestry was one of the biggest albums - like ever. I mean, four Grammy Awards, Album of the Year, Song of the Year. Carole King was such a big roll model for me. She did IT back in a time when girls were stuck with imagining what life “could be” like if only we could dress, act, and be more like a man - THEN, we’ll be making some serious money and get all that respect. Carole came out as herself with this one and the world ate it up.

We sang the song a couple of times over. Coco’s already got that kereoke thing down. She tilts her head and does heart-felt hand gestures to the words. We played the song at breakfast a couple of times. Addison clapped, though I spared him the brief history of the great song writer behind the words since he’s only two and would prefer to rip the CD cover to shreds than listen to what I know. I showed Coco the album cover and she said:

She’s got a cat. She’s lucky.

The bus arrived and Coco and I mouthed the words together as she buckled up. Addison blew me kisses as he was plopped into his car seat. The door shut, and I went back inside. The house was quite. I pushed play and listened to the entire album.

I was talking to a friend about the environment in Costa Rica. She said: Companies like Auto Mercado and others have to step into the 21st century and get a clue that they are part of the bigger picture. This coincided with an article I was reading in Vanity Fair about an architect and designer, William McDonough. He’s written about a concept he termed: Cradle to Cradle Design. Waste is food. No one gets squeamish when we think of cow manure being spread on plants to fertilize fields. What if we thought of the world as this abundant place that just recycles and regrows and re-digests everything it spits out?

“Minimizing toxic pollution and the waste of natural resources are not strategies for real change….Cradle to Cradle Design’s strategy of eco-effectiveness is rooted in the systems of the natural world, which are not efficient at all, but effective. Consider the cherry tree. Each spring it makes thousands of blossoms, which then fall in piles to the ground-not very efficient. But the fallen blossoms become food for other living things. The tree’s abundance of blossoms is both safe and useful, contributing to the health of a thriving, interdependent system. And the tree spreads multiple positive effects-making oxygen, transpiring water, creating habitat, and more. And it is beautiful!

Eco-effectiveness seeks to design industrial systems that emulate the healthy abundance of nature. The central design principle of eco-effectiveness is waste equals food.

When waste equals food, the “be less bad” imperatives of efficiency fade. When a product returns to industry at the end of its useful life and its materials are used to make equally valuable new products, the minerals or plastics of which it is made do not need to be minimized-because they will not become waste in a landfill. Industry saves billions of dollars annually by recovering valuable materials from used products. Similarly, products designed to be made of natural, safely biodegradable materials can be returned to the soil to feed ecosystems instead of depleting them.”

I think Costa Rica has this great opportunity to pass over some of the destructive ways of our more “developed” neighbors. We have a culture of people that at one time, used everything! Nothing went to waste. Unfortunately, I see these sad signs of the times when motor oil is dumped down the drain, insecticides are sprayed wherever and whenever someone wishes, and cars spit out disgusting fumes and “supposedly” pass inspections. Sometimes I wish I could scream - no! no! Costa Rica you had so many things right. I mean, WE DON”T HAVE AN ARMY!! Let’s be leaders - even as small as we are - for designing a culture that relishes and reuses everything we need.

When I went to the grocery store, mentioned above, I looked up and right in front of me where canvas bags - the kind that’s reusable. For a moment I was so happy! I bought one right away. The answer? No. A little step. You bettcha! Cotton involves an intense agricultural barrage of chemicals…yikes….sometimes change seems impossible. But I get excited about the fact that someone is thinking a little.

I sold lemonade on the corner of my block. Little table, a sign, and a few cups…I think I made 30 cents. So my daughter decides one day off from school she’s going to sell lemonade. She makes the sign - in Spanish and English - squeezes the lemons - which are really green limes here - decides on a price of 100 colones (about 20 cents) and sets up for sale.

It’s amazing how songs and traditions pass down like blood pumping away, and we don’t even know it. I told her nothing about selling lemonade on the street corner. Well, today it’s in the condo complex, but the lessons are all the same. The budding entrepreneur made 300 colones. As she wait sitting for more customers to pass, she drank the rest of her profits.

I had this nice little piece I was going to post this morning about finding style in Costa Rica. And then I couldn’t stop thinking about this “comment” I received yesterday on a site called The Real Costa Rica. I’m not controversial, at least I didn’t think so. Until someone took issue with my “complaining” about the prolific use of plastic bags here. He was referring to a post I wrote about how I’m trying to use less plastic bags in Costa Rica.

He said he owns a home here, part-time, and then went on to say……” I love Costa Rica and if you (that’s me he’s talking about...) carry plastics bags back and forth in buses and public transportation and complain about it, then you are probably not the kind of American who should have moved to Costa Rica.”

I wondered if he actually read what I had written because in the next line I wrote how plastic bags were helpful, especially on buses and in the rainy season…..

“Then, I moved to Costa Rica. A plastic bag free-for-all. There’s no question these bags with handles are handy, and since it does rain in Costa Rica, paper bags aren’t always a good solution especially when one has to take the bus or walk home. But the other day when I came home, my AAA batteries (which are encased in plastic to begin with) were inside a plastic bag inside another plastic bag…….”

Basically he continued on and on how I should just ship out. He stopped short of calling me an “idiot” or a “gum-chewing-hussy” or you know - THAT word. But the the tone was clear: because I was such an ingrate, I didn’t deserve to live in the country where he lives a few months out of the year, and he so dearly loves. Although I never met this fellow, I could see him shaking his finger at me. He finished up with this:

“SO, stop complaining and if you dislike it there, then come back to the USA, we most certainly could use another complainer!!“

Well, I’m chewing on my napkin instead of giving power to all the negative - and quite clever - things I could say. Guess maybe he didn’t read a few more of my posts like the grateful column, or how I adore the organic food in Costa Rica, or how this great community of people rallies around my son and his special needs. Details I suppose. I would teach my children to use conscious consumption no matter where we lived. I happen to believe small acts, such as one or two less plastic bags, actually makes a difference in the world. Not only because maybe one less fish will tangle up in the handle of the plastic bag that happened to miss the garbage can, but also because these acts bring on an awareness. Our thinking changes from “Hey what’s in it for me” to “How am I affecting my family, my community, and my world with the decisions I make?” No we can’t analyze every decision all day long or we’d go mad. But with a little practice, it gets quite easy. Are my tires the correct air pressure so I am more fuel efficient? Could I eat more fruits and vegetables produced locally and thereby reduce fuel consumption? Could I walk instead of drive? Could I be kind instead of crabby?

What kind of American should move to Costa Rica? I’m the kind of American that lives in Costa Rica and will continue to examine lifestyle choices that lower have the potential to raise our planet’s health and consciousness or chip away at it’s delicate balance. When I accept the status quo, then you’ll see me moving back to the States to chum up with the group of complainers he asked me to join. Until then, I’ll continue to write about the things I adore about Costa Rica and the challenges we face as a developing country and the little things that can make a big difference. If my views get someone’s underwear in a bundle - welcome! Step right up. Though the line is long, you’ll be in good company.

*If you want to see his whole response, go to Tim’s site at The Real Costa Rica Blog. This is a great site with a lot of helpful information.