“Do you want to go see the baby turtles hatch at Playa Ostional?” my husband says to our new friends Will and Sandy.

We’ve only known them a few weeks and I want to make a good impression by suggesting we drive. This good impression doesn’t last long when the night before the trip Rob discovers our alternator is on the fritz. However, Will graciously volunteers to drive and we all agree to meet at five in the morning outside a bakery in town.

Our road to the house is falling apart and is rough on even the sturdiest of vehicles. Since Will is being so accommodating, I don’t want him to have to deal with my road as well.

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This morning we hop on our scooter to meet them, but half way down the hill the back tire flattens and falls off the bike.

“Don’t worry, I have a can of Fix-a-Flat,” Rob says while he tries repositioning the deflated tire back on the wheel. Rob has been carrying this can for two years under the seat of the scooter. Whenever we came across a treacherous road, he would confidently say, I’ve got it covered honey, don’t worry. He all but made me believe this ingenious product was the solution to any tire problem we come across, and possibly, any problem at all we encounter in Costa Rica.

He finds the tire plug and connects the can of Fix-a-Flat. He presses the nozzle and I hear the can spray air into the tire. I also hear the air spray out a hole on the side.

“Rob, something is wrong. I can hear a leak.”

“That’s how it is supposed to sound.” Rob says as he continues to use the entire can before realizing his brilliant wife was right. We spend the next half hour pushing the scooter back up the hill.

“Maybe our car will turn over,” Rob says as he climbs in the driver’s seat. Luckily, it starts and we are a half hour late meeting our new friends. They don’t seem annoyed and we continue on our road trip. The day turns out great and when we got back into town, our car starts once again. We make it all the way home where the car breaks down for good.

“This is bad. The car’s alternator is shot and the scooter has a flat tire. What am I going to do if something were to happen to you, if you fell or hurt yourself?” Rob says.

“Why am I the one who is always getting hurt in these scenarios? It could just as well be you.”

“No, it won’t be me. And you’re my wife and I have to make sure that we have some transportation if the need arises. It’s my responsibility to take care of you.” The rest of the night Rob obsesses about getting both vehicles to the mechanic, manically devising a detailed scheme one might see when planning a bank heist.

“We have a battery charger, so I’ll first charge the car battery. Then we will lift the scooter into the hatchback and secure it with rope to the inside grab handles.”

“We?” I ask.

“Yes. I can’t lift it myself so you will have to help.”

“Can’t we just hire someone to tow it? The last time we shoved the scooter in the back of the SUV, it hung out over the bumper and both mirrors broke off. I think it would be easier getting it towed.”

“No, I want to do it my way.”

The next morning is spent trying to get the scooter into the car. “Hold it there while I go around and tie it inside,” Rob says. Ironically, the scooter is close to falling on my head, the exact medical emergency Rob is trying to save me from. With the scooter securely fastened, we start the car and proceed down the hill, only to break down in the middle of the road. Lucky for us, Will calls to see how we are doing.

Rob describes our predicament and Will and Sandy volunteer to pick us up. We sit by the side of the road until Will calls back and tells us he is stuck in the mud. Not only stuck, but his vehicle is slowly sinking and tilting to the right. It’s only a matter of time before it falls over and disappears completely. It’s becoming apparent that being friends with us causes problems for all parties involved.

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“I’m going to find someone to pull me out, don’t sweat it. I’ll be there soon.” And just as Will promised, they come to rescue us. Sandy stays with me while the men go and do manly mechanic things. They end up jumping the car, which gives the car enough power to go roughly 500 meters. They continue doing this, charging the car and going 500 meters until they reach the final 500 meters of the journey where they break down for good. After all the hassle, Rob ends up calling a tow truck.

The mechanic wants a day to work on the car, but can have the scooter tire fixed in a few hours. Will and Rob hang out for a while in Tamarindo, but when they return the shop is closed for the night. However, this doesn’t discourage Rob.

He walks into the pitch dark garage in search of the scooter. As he blindly walks through the covered area cluttered with vehicles and parts, my husband–the man who needs to rescue his clumsy wife from the impending emergency that will surely befall her–walks right into an empty bay pit. All this I find out when Rob limps into the house with Will.

“I was walking around thinking, this is pretty stupid, there are pit bulls around and I can’t see a thing. But I really wanted my scooter. The next thing I know I’m falling. By the time I realized what was happening I stretched out my arms and nearly bashed my head open. I ended up smashing my leg pretty bad.” He rolls up his pants and shows me his shin. It looks awful –possibly broken–but Rob insists that he is fine. “I just need ice, a few ibuprofen… yea… maybe I should elevate it for a while too.”

The next day, our good friend Will picks Rob up and brings him back to the mechanic. Rob drives the scooter home and goes back to bed for the rest of the day. I’m not sure where Will went; possibly changing his phone number would be my guess.

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That’s how it goes in Costa Rica. No matter how much you want to do things on your own, every once in a while you need a buddy like Will to walk into your life. A guy, who for no other reason than being a nice person, shuttled my husband around and was close to rescuing him out of an empty bay pit at a mechanic’s garage.

As for me, I did not injure one thing during this calamity. However, I am now playing nurse to Rob’s swollen leg.

“See that sweetie, I’m glad if anything happens to you, I can get help,” Rob says as I bring him two ibuprofens, fresh pillows, ice, the remote control, and a grilled cheese sandwich.

Yes Rob, it’s a good thing I have you looking out for me.

Happier Than A Billionaire Book About Living in Costa Rica

Nadine Hays Pisani’s Book – Happier Than A Billionaire Book About Living in Costa Rica

Nadine Hays Pisani Living in Costa Rica

Nadine Hays Pisani Living in Costa Rica.

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Written by Nadine Hays Pisani who was born in Elizabeth, New Jersey and attended Rutgers University. Nadine moved to Costa Rica in 2007 with her husband and dog, Clementine. When not writing, you can find her at the beach, on the back of a scooter, or frantically tossing scorpions out of her bed. She shares her weekly adventures on her blog: Happier Than A Billionaire.

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