Tuesday, September 15, 2009

The Devil is in the Details

Over the past few weeks, we’ve begun to understand why houses here in our corner of Costa Rica all look more or less the same. The truth of the matter is, design options are severely limited by the supplies the hardware stores are able to stock. Basic building materials are easy to find ~ concrete, wood, nails, tubing ~ but special items needed to finish a “non traditional” house are about as easy to find as a Democrat in South Carolina.

For the past couple of weeks, we’ve been searching for the hardware to make our sliding doors actually slide and shut. We were finally able to find one company that imports rails and rollers from Italy, so the sliding issue has been resolved, but we’re still struggling to figure out how to keep the doors shut. We found one nice “American style” mechanism with a simple butterfly lock at a specialty store in San Jose, but at more than $1,000 to outfit our 18 doors, we need to go to Plan B! Patrick is considering altering another mechanism he found with super glue, but glue and locks aren’t usually a very good combination. We’re starting to wonder if we really need doors after all…

We’ve had similar problems finding the length of glass we need for our restaurant windows and the nails we need to construct our deck. It took more than a week to receive our exterior paint (special order from San Jose), and when we realized we needed a darker color, we were reluctant to change for fear of the delay.

Needless to say, we’re in the final stage of construction and are almost done. Unfortunately, we don’t quite know how long “almost” is going to last, but we’re hoping to resolve these devilish details sometime before Hell freezes over.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Making an Entrance

From an early age, those of us from societies where consumerism reigns supreme learn the importance of packaging in promoting products in the marketplace. We beg for the cereal with the coolest super hero on the box, and despite parental warnings, we inevitably judge books by their covers.

Here in the Southern Zone of Costa Rica, where there are few books to choose from, and bags of rice all look more or less the same, people generally just take what they can get without much concern for packaging. The same holds true for restaurants. Of the handful of dining establishments within an hour´s driving distance from our place, you´d be hard-pressed to find one that didn´t have a standard-issue neon beer sign hanging over its door with the restaurant´s name in small block lettering -- a free gift from the beer company in exchange for supplying the local bubbly.

Despite our desire to blend in with the local community and follow established norms and customs, we have decided to do things a little differently with regard to packaging our jungle retreat. Our customers will get their first impression of Morphose from the road, so we have made a concerted effort to have our entryway reflect the quality experience we intend to deliver. The gate is made with the same teak and sandstone as our restaurant and has a similar Asian design. To create a welcoming feel, we have removed the fencing that once encircled the property and replaced it with a border of miniature Birds of Paradise.

So far, we seem to have succeeded in generating positive buzz about our new place. Now, when describing the location of our property to new acquaintances, there´s an immediate recognition when I mention our gate. One day, I drove up to the entrance to find a truck full of people having a picnic. At first I thought they might be delivering some construction material, but I quickly realized they had simply chosen our entrance as a pretty place to stop and eat. When I mentioned this encounter to Patrick, he chuckled and told me that he had heard that our entryway has become sort of a Lover´s Lane for local teenagers on weekend nights!

We can only hope that the clients we attract with our special ¨packaging¨ will be genuinely happy with the surprise they´ll find inside.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Home Stretch

We just returned from a summer break back to the States, which served a variety of different purposes. In addition to allowing us to reconnect with family and friends and restock our supplies of familiar over the counter remedies (Who can explain why Jiff peanut butter and Pepperidge Farm cookies are readily available here, but Pepto Bismol and Advil are not?), this trip unexpectedly launched the pre~operation phase of our new business. With some time away from the daily diversions on the worksite, the reality began to set in that in just four months, the doors of Morphose should be officially open for business.

One indication of our evolution in thinking was the contents of our suitcases on our flight back to San Jose. This time, instead of exclusively packing khaki colored clothing and waterproof wear, I returned with a few dresses and skirts, appropriate to my future role as Hostess~With~The~Mostest. One entire suitcase was filled with Ikea feather pillows, comforters and mattress pads (impossible to find here), in anticipation of live bodies actually inhabiting our guesthouse. We also managed to fit in a few sets of curtains, a selection of chopping knives, and special hardware to build our own McMorphose playground. (As a side note to the previous post, another very large suitcase was crammed with light fixtures. Go figure!).

Our stateside book purchases are additional evidence of the mental shift that has occurred. Patrick has been pouring over Daniel Boulud’s new cookbook, and I am now the proud owner of “How to Open and Operate a Bed & Breakfast”. While Pat has been pondering how to prepare sugar cane grilled shrimp with peanut sauce without the authentic Asian fish sauce the recipe calls for, I’m taking quizzes on how often our shower curtain gets changed and the microwave gets cleaned (Good thing there’s still time to improve my score!).

Since returning to Costa Rica, we’ve taken some important steps toward readying ourselves for opening day. We’ve met with a CPA who has walked us through the intricacies of the Costa Rican tax system (including an explanation of the annual “culture tax”), and we now know how to identify an illegitimate sales receipt. We have also hired a graphic designer friend to start working on a logo and marketing materials, including developing our new website.

So, ready or not, the time has come to stop thinking of our place as a construction project and start thinking of it as a restaurant and guesthouse. Our adrenaline levels are cranked up, and with a mixture of both excitement and absolute panic, we’ve started mentally preparing for the arrival of our first curious customers.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Shelter from the Rain




San Jose: Marital Boot Camp

Before the marriage of my Catholic friends, I remember hearing about their required “Pre~Cana” counseling sessions, which were meant to prepare them for marriage and to identify areas of difference that may become a source of future conflict. I would like to propose an alternative to pre~marital counseling, which I call Marital Bliss Boot Camp. Loosely modeled on the reality show, “Survivor”, my boot camp would place couples in real~world situations that would put considerable stress on any normal marriage. If the couples pass the challenges they are given and survive the weekend without splitting up, they get the green light to go waltzing down the aisle. If not, they get to save thousands on a pricey wedding and an even pricier divorce settlement.

The couple’s First Challenge (testing Role Expectations, Interpersonal Communication, Risk Management, and Accepting the Faults of Your Spouse) would be to drive over the Cerro de la Muerte (The Mountain Of Death) to get to San Jose. The “highway” is a shoulderless, slick, two lane road with dangerous curves and occasional rockslides, that climbs to an altitude of 11,500 feet. The road is a main thoroughfare for slow, smelly trucks transporting goods to and from San Jose. If the couple can agree 1) who should drive, and 2) when to pass the dozens of trucks they will encounter (keep in mind the slippery, curviness of the road…) AND are able to engage in some meaningful conversation during the two hour trek, they pass their first test and get to continue on.

The Second Challenge (exploring Interpersonal Communication, Conflict Resolution, and Accepting the Faults of Your Spouse) would be for the couple to find their hotel. They would be given directions and a map, but that wouldn’t matter, because there are no street signs in San Jose. If, after repeatedly asking for directions (“Do you know the way to San Jose?”) and realizing that nobody knows where anything is anyway, they agree to pay a taxi to lead them to their hotel, then they pass Challenge Two.

Challenge Three (focusing on Finances, Conflict Resolution, Religion and Philosophy, and Accepting the Faults of your Spouse) entails an all~day shopping excursion to find exterior lamp fixtures for a new Balinese style house. The couple must navigate their way to five different lighting shops (see Challenge Number Two), and then agree on a fixture. The challenge is that they have a limited budget, and the only affordable fixtures are ugly and cheaply made. Throughout the day, the couple will have ample opportunity to explore issues of religion (as in, “Oh my God, that is soooo ugly!,” and “ I swear to God, if you don’t put that lamp down, I’m going to scream!”). If couples can choose a fixture without telling each other to go to Hell, their relationship is still alive.

Challenge Four (exploring Interest and Activities, Finances, Sexuality, and Accepting the Faults of your Spouse) requires the couple to decide on an evening activity after their grueling day of shopping. The challenge is that they are NOT allowed to go back to the hotel to crash in front of the TV (they’ve been living in the boondocks for the past three months, and have been severely culturally and culinarily deprived!). If they agree to start by throwing back a couple of martinis at the poshest lounge they can find, followed by an abundant sushi dinner and can relax enough to (at least) give each other a kiss goodnight, then they have survived Marital Bliss Boot Camp, and will live happily ever after… hopefully far, far away from San Jose!

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Off the Grid

Part of the beauty of our property is that it’s located in an area where there is very little development. Its steep mountain terrain is unsuitable for farming, and there are very few places flat enough to build. On the positive side, we’re surrounded by forest, filled with animals, birds and towering trees. On the negative side, the population density is not high enough for our cash~strapped municipality to justify connecting our area with water, telephone or electricity.

Now, you might think us crazy for building a restaurant and guest house totally off the grid. Well, I though so, too, until Patrick and I took a trip to Uganda in late 2007 and stayed at some of the most wonderful, disconnected, out~of~the~way hotels. They were fully~functional solar and generator powered places that had river water or rainwater pumped into their rooms. If they could do it in the middle of the bush (much farther away than we are from big towns with services), then we certainly could, too!

For us, telephone service isn’t a major issue because we do have cell phone reception on our property. With wireless internet service, we should be able to manage all the company’s business over the airwaves. Water is a trickier issue, but with an average of 15 feet of water falling annually in our rainforest, we aren’t too terribly concerned. We have installed huge, 3,000 gallon water tanks next to each of our buildings which will collect rainwater from our roofs. We’ve built small pump houses that will be equipped with filtration systems to provide all the water we’ll need. If we do happen to have an exceptionally dry period (like we did this year from January through April), we can easily have an outside company deliver water by truck to fill our tanks.

Electricity has been our biggest challenge to date ~ mostly because of the cost involved than anything else. Ideally, we would have liked to install solar panels to supply our energy needs, but the price tag for that was out of our range (especially considering we would have needed a back~up generator during the rainy season). Our second choice would have been to install underground electrical lines, which would have been much more aesthetically pleasing, as well as safer for our wildlife. Unfortunately, that too, was cost prohibitive (not to mention it would have taken eons to dig through our rocky ground!). So, we are currently undertaking the private installation of 20 poles to bring power the 1.5 km from our closest electrified neighbor to our new place. Despite the fact they are above ground, we are taking some comfort in the fact that the lines will be covered with a special insulation to protect our furry friends.

Throughout this process of infrastructure development, we’ve gained a new appreciation for public services. Yet again, we’ve realized how lucky we’ve been in our (past) lives to have been able to take hot running water, high speed Internet and lamp light for granted. Still, there’s no substitute for a candlelit dinner to enhance the romance of the rainforest!

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

The Name Game

Since we arrived last year, we’ve been referring to our project as “Petit Paradis,” or in English, “Little Paradise.” As time has gone by, we’ve realized that name doesn’t quite convey what we want to say about our place. While we do believe that we’re sitting on a slice of paradise, we want a name that’s more subtle, creative and evocative (and is easy to say when answering the phone). We are now in the process of finding that perfect name, and we need help!!

One theme that we’re exploring is transformation. Both Patrick and I would like for our guests to feel transformed after spending time with us here. Our hope is that the Gringos who stay with us will detach from their hectic lifestyles and be able to relax and reconnect with nature. For the Costa Ricans who visit our restaurant, we hope they will enjoy being exposed to new cuisine and architecture, and also have a chance to spend time in the forest in a part of the country where much of the land has been converted into fields and pastures. An obvious symbol of transformation is the butterfly, and we have some of the most beautiful butterflies flittering all around our property. One possible name we are therefore considering is Morphose, which is French for morphosis. Since the beautiful blue Morpho butterfly is one of the species found on our property, there is an appealing double entendre to this name. Along the same line, Crysálida (Spanish for chrysalis) has a nice ring to it. Another more obscure possibility is Ovidio (or Ovidio’s), which is Spanish for Ovid, the Greek author of Metamorphoses.

Another theme we find intriguing is the idea of interconnectedness, which our rainforest ecosystem demonstrates so well. Unfortunately, the name Symbiosis was already taken by a restaurant down the street from us, but we’re still looking for other possibilities. It would be great if we could find a more elegant expression of Food Chain, which would be quite a clever name for a restaurant in the wilderness!

We’re also exploring names that reflect the idea that our forest contains different spiritual forces. In Greek mythology, Meliai were nymphs who inhabited the trees, and Kodama is the name for similar Japanese tree spirits. Ambrosia (or Ambroisie in French), the name of one of the Hyades nymphs who are said to bring rain, would be an apt name for a rainforest restaurant. Calling our restaurant Ambrosia might be seen as pretentious, however, and we wouldn’t want to create expectations that we might not be able to meet! Finally, the Chinese belief in ch’i, or “the life force that flows through water, earth and all living things”, appeals to Patrick and me. Harmonizing ch’i energy is the purpose of feng shui, and we have (unintentionally) incorporated some elements of feng shui into our Asian~style building designs. The name Sheng ch’i, meaning “vibrant strong energy,” is a possibility, although answering the phone, “Bon soir, Sheng ch’i” might sound a bit too bizarre !

We would like to solicit as many comments and suggestions on this matter from anyone and EVERYONE reading this blog. We need your help finding a big name for our little piece of paradise. Thanks in advance!

P.S. As a sidebar to this post about names, Lucas seems to have acquired a new nickname at school: “Lucas Peluca,” which in Spanish means something like “Lucas the Wig~Head.” The irony is that when choosing Luc’s name, we consciously selected one that (we thought) would work well in English, Spanish and French. Let’s hope we do better this time around!

Friday, April 10, 2009

School Days

Last month, both Lucas and I went back to school. Luc began nursery school, or “materno”, in the little school at the center of our village (800 meters from our house, according to our postal address). All we needed to show was a copy of Luc’s birth certificate showing that he was at least four and four months old ; his passport; and a record of his immunizations for him to be allowed to attend. I’d be surprised if it’s that easy for immigrant children to enroll in American schools!

We had originally intended for him to go to a larger school in a nearby town, which is closer to our future home. That school is well~equipped with computers, a music room, and foreign language instruction, but the one thing it lacked was a teacher for Luc’s class! Apparently, the teacher from last year is on maternity leave, and rather than replacing her, the central administrators in San Jose decided just to let the kids wait ~ for three months or more! We decided that wasn’t going to work for us, so we enrolled him in the small school down the road. He’s very happy to be with all his friends from the neighborhood, and we’re happy his teacher has the patience of a saint! School has greatly improved his Spanish, and he has already learned a whole repertoire of adorable children’s songs.

If I were a typical Costa Rican mom, I’d walk a mile back and forth to bring Luc to school every morning at 6:30 (school starts at 7:00), and then back again to be there when school gets out at 10:30. But, since I’m a lazy Gringa with a car (and don’t particularly enjoying tromping down a muddy road at the crack of dawn), my Mitsubishi has become San Gabriel’s new school bus. On our route, we manage to pick up nine crisply uniformed neighborhood kids. It’s a tight squeeze, but I don’t have the heart to pass anyone by.

Now that I have a few hours to myself each day, I decided to use some of that time volunteering at the local high school. I presented my teaching qualifications at a meeting of the English Department and suggested several ways that I could help. After promising that I wouldn’t bail out on them halfway through the school year, the teachers agreed to take me up on my offer. Now I’m teaching two mornings a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The high school has the same problem as the elementary school, with teachers not having been hired yet, so I actually have four of my own classes until the “real” teacher shows up. Most of my students are happy to have the chance to practice with a native English speaker, and I love feeling like I’m back in my element. Just a few hours in front of a classroom has made all the difference.

In addition to adding structure to our lives, school has helped both Luc and me feel more a part of our little community. It’s hard to be an outsider when you’re attending parent meetings and schlepping half the class home. The other day, we joined in a pick up soccer game for the first time since we moved here. We knew the kids and they knew us, and we laughed and played and acted like our own, true, silly selves. Finally!

First Day of School

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Sunday, March 29, 2009

Interior Designing

Bone or “blanco”? Large tank or small? High seat or low? Who would have thought so many decisions could go into simply choosing a toilet! Pat and I went to San Jose recently looking forward to starting the process of designing the interior of our homes and restaurant, but our excitement waned as we were confronted with walls upon walls of faucet handles, shower heads, light fixtures and tile samples. Talk about sensory overload!

It helped that we had the somewhat limited mission of finding “acabados” or “finishings”, for the bathrooms and kitchens. Window treatments, door hardware, and wall paint were thankfully set aside for a future date. Our task was further simplified by the fact that our range of choices here in Costa Rica is much more limited than it would have been in the United States. Using a Costa Rican design magazine (Su Casa) as our guide, we compiled a list of about eight design centers in San Jose that we knew would have the quality products we were looking for. Compared to the eight million design centers in the Greater Washington area, we thought we’d be in pretty good shape. Well, we thought wrong.

First of all, the idea of choosing permanent fixtures without being able to “try them on”, is really rather daunting. Pat had a minor freak~out on our first shopping day, and was rendered completely incapable of making any decisions. He kept asking over and over, “But how do we know that this will look right ?”. The best answer I could come up with was, “We don’t, but we have to choose something. We’re just going to have to trust our guts and get something we like… and we can’t go too terribly wrong with beige.” The urgency of the situation helped push Pat into high gear, and by the second day, we were able to make considerable progress.

Our second major obstacle is our bank account. As our architect has commented on more than one occasion, we’re trying to build a million dollar home on a million Costa Rican colones budget (exchange rate 560 to 1!). So, although we continually gravitate toward the onyx sink basins and custom Italian tiling, the sticker shock brings us back to reality. We try to make ourselves feel better by thinking how difficult those fancy surfaces are to maintain, and how impractical they would be in a public restaurant (but it doesn't really help).

By the end of our trip (among other things) we had chosen:
Seven bathroom sinks
Six fountain lights
Five possible floor tiles
Four low~flush toilets
Three types of faucets
Two office chairs
And a painted lamp with a toucan in a tree!

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Asian Accents

Over the past three weeks, we’ve been fortunate to have had visitors from both sides of our family come to see our project take shape. While entertaining has impeded my blogging process a bit (OK, a lot!), thankfully our construction team has continued to be productive.

If I’ve been successful in posting the two pictures below, you can see that our walls are now completely up. We can walk from room to room debating what piece of furniture will go where, and comparing the views from each of the four bedrooms. We served the first bottle of wine in our “open air” restaurant to my parents while they were here, and we had fun imagining our future life as we watched the sun set into the ocean.

We are now looking forward to the Roof Raising phase of construction, which will begin next week. As I’ve described earlier, we’ve designed our buildings in a Balinese style, which is characterized by high (5 meter), steep (70 degree) roofs with exposed rattan and rafters, held up with tree trunk~sized pillars. In preparation, we've put an improvised saw mill into operation to slice our teak trees into carefully measured posts and beams. We are now the proud owners of an industrial strength sander, which will (supposedly) pay for itself within a couple of weeks. If all else fails with the restaurant and guesthouse, the carpentry business might offer a good a fall~back option!

In order to get an authentic Balinese look (and because some materials are simply not available here), we have been working with two Asian importers to provide the supplies we need. We’ve ordered all the rattan for the roof, sandstone for our gate and water feature, custom wall sculptures, and carved doors directly from Bali. We’re crossing our fingers that the rattan shipment will arrive on schedule, since any delay could bring construction to a halt. We’re cutting things a little close here, but we think the rattan will give our buildings that special something that will make people want to come take a look. As they say in Costa Rica, “Ojala que si”!

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

A Harsh Blow

The weather in Costa Rican can be summed up in one word: Extreme. From September through the beginning of December, hardly a day passed without at least one good downpour. Since the beginning of January, however, we’ve barely felt a drop, and the ground has become dusty, dry and cracked. We are now in the middle of Costa Rican summer, and there’s no question now that we’re just ten degrees above the equator.

Apparently, it’s not unusual for the winds to pick up here in summertime, as evidenced by the kite salesmen who have recently emerged selling their wares next to wide open soccer fields. Last week, though, the winds were completely out of the ordinary, reaching speeds of 60 miles per hour due to the arrival of a Caribbean cold front. The winds were strongest for us last Wednesday night, when we were awakened by loud banging noises. We assumed that parts of our tin roof were just flapping about enthusiastically. As it turns out, the racket was coming from the car port which was about to become completely unhinged. We’re still not quite sure how exactly it happened, but one large gust picked up the entire structure and carried it clear over our roof to the other side of the house. It landed right outside the bedroom window where Lucas and I were clinging to each other with our eyes squeezed shut (which was a shame, because it would have been really cool to see the garage in flight!). Of course, Patrick, being a man, was compelled to go out and survey the damage immediately, which made me wish the Worst Case Scenario guys had included something about dodging flying sheet metal in a wind storm. Thankfully, the cars were untouched, but the satellite dish has seen better days!

As if losing the garage weren’t bad enough, we were in for a terrible shock when we arrived at our property the following day. It was as if a hurricane had ripped through the place, uprooting trees by the dozens, splitting huge branches and defoliating the entire forest. It was almost as though a micro~system had developed in that particular location, which intensified the destruction ten~fold. After all the care we have taken over the past six months to beautify the property and to protect the trees and plants, it was like a punch in the gut. More than a few tears were shed that day.

The good news is that nothing on our construction site was damaged, and the main road is still accessible. Luckily, growth happens quickly in a rainforest, and with the rains that are sure to come eventually, the leaves will be back in no time. On the bright side (and we haven’t given up looking for it!), our views to the ocean (which we were reluctant to clear on our own) have improved quite considerably. Mother Nature works in mysterious ways.

Wind Damage

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Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Taking Shape

After four weeks of construction, the transformation of our property has been nothing less than amazing. We now have three foundations laid, and tubing for water and electricity has been put into place. We can walk through each building, room by room, and imagine what it will be like to actually live there. Little by little, this is all turning into reality.

Getting to this point in the process so quickly has not been easy. For one thing, our property is located in an area called Fila de Cal, or Line of Calcium, referring to our mountainside. In other words, we’re building on top of huge quantities of solid rock. Apparently, sledge hammers are in short supply (or cost to much to use), so our foundations were dug mostly with pick axes and muscle power. The work was so cumbersome, I could barely watch... Because the terrain posed such a challenge, Patrick suggested to our contractor that he hire more guys to get the job done. Pat rounded up an extra ten men in our small town, and set them all to work. Unemployment in our region is a problem, so for days after that, we received a steady stream of visitors who heard that we were hiring. We now have thirty guys on site, which makes the place hum with activity from every direction.

Although we’ve hired a General Contractor for the construction, Patrick goes to the site every day to answer questions and make sure the materials (which we are supplying) are on hand when they’re needed. I’m not convinced he needs to be there every day, but he can’t seem to tear himself away. He has caught some small mistakes, so it’s probably best that he’s there keeping a watchful eye.

Lucas is also thrilled to be part of the excitement. He loves being able to “help”, and thankfully, the guys are tolerant of his efforts. One thing about Costa Rica is that everyone has a big family with lots of kids, so people are very patient with youngsters. Sometimes, Lucas gets a little too excited ~ Last week, I turned around to find him rubbing cement mix all over his head and body!

So far, the weather has been cooperating, and we’ve only had one big rain shower. The ground is staying dry, which means it’s not as heavy, and the cement has been setting quickly. The sun is hot on the workers’ shoulders, but they seem more accustomed to it than we are. Pat knew what he was doing when he started construction in January.

We’re continuing to cross our fingers and knock on wood, but so far things have been coming off without a hitch. Stay tuned: Next week, walls!

Friday, January 9, 2009

Breaking Ground

After six months of prepping and planning, we finally broke ground this week on the three buildings that will make up our jungle mountain retreat. We’ve been dreaming about this for so many years now, that it’s hard to believe that it’s actually happening! Seeing the buildings take shape on the ground is both exciting and, to be honest, a little daunting. There’s no turning back now, and if all goes as planned, we’ll be in business by this time next year (Yikes!).

Getting everything ready for construction to start was a huge undertaking that almost put Patrick in the loony bin. Among his biggest tasks was finishing the entry road through our property leading to our restaurant and bungalow. This involved finding affordable gravel and having truckloads of it transported (by a rented Mack truck) and distributed (by a rented backhoe). An extended rainy season delayed the work since heavy machinery doesn’t operate well in mud! Thankfully, the road was finished just under the wire.

Once the road was complete, we were able to transport materials in to build temporary living quarters for our construction workers. Unlike in the United States where builders return home every night, here, they often spend the entire week sleeping on site. On our future parking lot, we now have a large shack~like structure, complete with bunk beds and a kitchen. We’re thrilled that the work crew includes women who prepare lunch and coffee breaks each day!

The drivable road also makes possible delivery of the wood we need for our walls and roof. Finding the 150 teak trees we need occupied the majority of Patrick’s time for more than a month. He visited dozens of plantations (by foot, car, and on horseback!) before he found the quality and quantity we require. Throughout the process, I was continuously amazed by Pat’s negotiating skills (in Spanish no less) that allowed us to avoid paying inflated “Gringo prices”.

As if all this wasn’t enough, Pat also secured all our building permits and had our water source approved by the health authorities. Finding and connecting water was another major undertaking since we don't have access to the public water supply. Luckily, a generous neighbor with underground springs has agreed to give us rights to his water. This, combined with collected rainwater, should fill our tanks and sustain us through the dry season.

So, in a country where people say everything takes longer than anticipated, Patrick has managed to keep things on schedule in order to adhere to our desired start date. Having done that, our roofs should be raised before the light rains begin in April, and the structures should be finished completely before the September/October deluges. It’s in our contractor’s hands now, and I just hope his are as capable as my husband’s have been :)

Tuesday, January 6, 2009