I cruised to a stop in front of my house, about three houses down from the old church in San Joaquin. Just returning from my regular Friday morning breakfast in Santa Domingo with a few ex-Marines — American Vietnam vets who meet regularly and have adopted me as an honorary member of their small club.

Andy is a regular, he’s a Silver Star winner and all of the guys are great story tellers. I like to tell a story or two myself and this is probably my qualification for entry to their exclusive little group.

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Fiddling with one hand in the center console I locate the garage door opener and I press the button expecting the doors to swing open. Nothing! I press a few more times… Nothing! I take the control apart, clean the battery and still nada!

Frustrated and a little irritated, I’m thinking that the shop that had replaced the battery only last week, had stuck me with a bad battery. Typical Costa Rica!

I drive on to the small locksmith shop around the corner. Marco, the shopkeeper, has unilaterally taken on the job as my professor of local slang. Each time we meet he gives me a list of six new slang terms to master and tests me on them at the next encounter.

I rarely do well but he maintains his sense of humor, he restrains his disappointment and launches into the next six.

Marco’s father is Italian and he is fluent in the language, as well as Spanish of course. Today he tells me about the magnificent water park in the mountains above San Jose. He promises to close shop and take me there in a few days.

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Having examined my garage control, Marco agrees with my diagnosis and directs me to an electronics store around the corner. “Leave your car here. I’ll keep an eye on it!” he tells me in Spanish.

A smiling Tica gives me a “buenos dias” as I enter and listens to my problem. “No hay problema,“, she says and off she scoots into the back room.

Mil cien colones” she charges me (about US$2) and I have a packet of two fresh batteries. She apologizes – she can’t issue a receipt because “no hay luz, no electricidad!” (“There’s no light, no electricity.”)

Our eyes meet and we burst out laughing as the power returns and the interior lights go back on. “No hay electricidad! El motor por mi garage no puede funcionar!”

She offers me a refund but I offer to take the batteries for next time. She asks me where I live and we exchange first names. She laughs again as I exit. I have a new friend in the neighborhood.

Typical Costa Rica!

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Written by VIP Member Ken Zaborniak who is Canadian, from Ottawa, raised in Winnipeg and who has traveled extensively both for business and pleasure is now retired and living in Costa Rica. Ken has been a Human Resource Management and Organizational Consultant, Executive Coach in Ottawa for last 15 years.

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