At some point near a tunnel Karl said, remember if we go under the tunnel, back around the top and down the path we get that awesome view and those plants that fold up when we touch them and that view of the Volcano?  Now I do.  I couldn’t have found it again if my life depended on it.   Yup, Karl, you were absolutely correct.

Dentist

Off to Fortuna

Dentist

One spring day, many years ago, I took my boys out of school so that I could fly them to an exotic location, there having been so many that I don’t recall the destination. That was the only day of school my son Karl has ever missed. Karl has not been sick a single day in his twenty three years.

In April he to a detour while riding home on his bike from a bar late at night. After face planting into a parked automobile he found himself absent an upper incisor and with two chipped bicuspids. Shortly thereafter the other upper incisor was pulled to complete that West Virginia Mobile Home look.

Today we start to rectify the situation. A dentist in San Jose Costa Rica was highly recommended by a woman in Bocas who had the full complement of her dentition replaced. Karl awoke after a restless night, we had a bountiful breakfast and were driven to the dentist’s office by a driver, Maurice, a service that is included in the fees as is pickup and drop off from the airport. Accustomed to overblown dental offices in Southlake, Texas designed to impress the little attached building did little to appease Karl’s growing apprehension. We met the doctor for the first time and Karl was handed a stack of medical disclaimers. I watched him read them with his forehead on his hand possibility of stroke, paralysis, bleeding, coronary failure, death among other warnings followed the description of every procedure include local anaesthetic. “Karl, all your friends have had local anaesthetics, it’s no big deal.” Karl has never had a cavity so this is new to him. After that, it’s just a couple of holes drilled in the head and some screws. Buck up, Bucko.

Karl entered the dental chair and was quickly examined and was offered two options. In the traditional approach a couple of holes are drilled, the screws inserted and the gums stitched shut. The jaw is given four to six months to heal and fuse to the screws. The doctor also offered a second option in which the teeth are immediately affixed to the screws. Nothing harder than baby food can be eaten for six months and any errant tap on the teeth by a beer bottle (more likely) or a coffee cup could cause the formation of fibrous tissue rather than bones. Overhearing this, I walked in and had a brief talk with Karl. “Don’t worry about me flying you down here again. Don’t be crazy. You can’t go six months eating oatmeal. This is just an excuse to get you down here again.” OK, doc, just the screws today.

Laughing gas, local anaesthesia, more nitrous oxide. While Karl, buzzing under the gas was taking pictures of himself with his cell phone the doctor set about drilling and screwing. An hour later all was done and Karl walked out with a bloody mouth full of gauze. We were given two prescriptions for pain and one for antibiotics. Maurice drove us to the pharmacy where the prescriptions were filled for $23. Ummm, about these syringes. Fortunately the pharmacist took Karl aside and gave him a shot in the ass. I’ve never injected a human and didn’t feel the need to practice on my older son. Maurice took Karl back to the house where he quickly found sleep.

Glasses

Margot needed some eyewear. I had related home much less expensive eyeglasses were in Panama and that exams were free. We throught we’d give CR a shot. Maurice dropped us off in front of an optical store/pharmacy/restaurant. Few frames were displayed but Margot approached the counter and was met by a very heavily made up trans-sexual or transvestite with an extremely large cleft chin as the most prominent feature on a very large head. The cleft must have been an inch and a half long and at least 3/8” deep. It was akin to having a small ass at the base of her face above which was enough makeup to make a small pancake and a couple of whisk brooms attached to her eyelids. I stood back to watch the show.

The optician kept insisting on frames gaudily adorned on the temples of the outrageously colored frames. Each pair was presented to Margo. Rather than just rejecting them outright she courteously feigned the possibility that they might be appropriate for her. After taking them off the optician would don them and flutter his long eyelashes and say “Beautiful!”, the lashes near reaching the lenses. Every pair, same thing. Eventually a suitable pair was found for $130 for frames and lenses.

An old man, the optometrist gave Margot an exam. No time was wasted on glaucoma, color blindness, or any fancy machines that would give an automatic determination of initial estimate of prescription. Just an old fashioned eye chart consisting of symbols of a wide letter E in each of four positions. That done, as Margot was paying for the glasses I spotted a Tica, all boobs, big butt, tight skirt, tight blouse and high heels standing in the doorway. I looked at the old man. He made no attempt to disguise the shit eating grin on his face as he caught my eye and tried to point out that which could not be missed.

Museum of Modern Art

That taken care of we walked to the Museum of Modern Art. Margot felt it my manly responsibility to navigate. Sorry, that’s just laughable. If a sense of direction is required to get a man badge, mine would have been yanked from my sash a long time ago. Still, with a map in hand we found our way to a converted house with a locked front door. Hmmm. Ok, the guy came and let us in.

The first room had a large sheet of canvas with some bullet holes painted on it. After that, things go so bad that it was great. This museum was a parody of modern art. One room had as the masterpiece, a collection of cardboard boxes painted with blue clouds were strewn about on the floor. It made a statement to me. A folding wooden ruler with a spoon affixed was hanging by a fishing line from the ceiling. Damn, I was museum worthy in first grade except I would have had my ass slapped for screwing a spoon to a perfectly good carpentry tool. I was relieved to find that Margot found no merit to any of the pieces. I would have had to leave her there.

What next?

I only had carry on but Margot’s backpack was far too big so it had to be checked.  “Has this bag been inspected?”  Margot said that it had not.  “You should have just said, ‘yes'”.   “But it hasn’t been.”   Ok, off to “security”  where we walked into a room placed it on a desk and a guy gave it the most cursory of inspections.   No tag, no paperwork, one now just had the right to say “Yes, it has been inspected.”  The bag was turned over to check-in, which meant that it was placed on the floor near the door.

A wonderfully painted prop plane pulled up.  An hour later about a dozen passengers boarded and we had a wonderful low altitude flight over the mountains at but a few thousand feet.  The scenery was spectacular most of the trip, occasionally obscured by clouds.   Arriving in San Jose we turned in our forms, I showed my forged exit flight details and we cleared the terminal in about a minute.

My son was coming in a few hours to the other airport.   We took a bus to “Coca Cola” a region in town for which I can offer no explanation about the name.   We wandered through fruit stalls and generally killed some time.  Finally it was time to go to the other airport.   Taxi drivers constantly asked “Where are you going?”  It’s really none of your business.   A couple of times we told them and were offered a ride for the equivalent of $22 to $28, “no waiting.”  Great, what a plus for a couple killing time.   We walked about a mile to the bus terminal where there were five buses queued up to leave, as soon as one would fill the next would go.   We waited two minutes to board, got on the bus and paid 450 colones, just short of a buck and took big spacious seats that were far more comfortable than the back seat of a Corolla and enjoyed an easy ride to the airport.

Half an hour later my son Karl’s flight arrived.  Unfortunately there were two exit doors, 50 yards apart and I had no idea through which he would exit.   I had not known that free transport to the bed, breakfast and dinner place was included with the dental bill.   Two drivers told me the price was $30 to get to our lodgings.  I had no idea where the place was.  As is everything else in Costa Rica, its location was relative to other well known locations.   Karl showed up and we headed off to our lodgings.  Margot explained that she was a vegan and what that meant to Maria, who owns and runs the place.

Around seven dinner was laid out, steak, three kinds of vegetables, soup, salad, fruit and breads and accommodation had been made for Margot’s diet.  For $30 a night one gets a private room with a TV, access to a huge screen house computer, free phone calls anywhere in the world a large deck, a living room and a fully stocked kitchen as well as a huge breakfast and dinner.  We were joined by another fellow I could never understand a gravelly voiced man from Louisiana who was temporarily living in the place.

We did nothing more than play a little checkers, chat and go to bed early.

I made reservations on line and asked for her passport so I could enter some information.   A short while later a one way trip for two for a one hour flight was booked, costing more than the round trip flight for my son from Dallas to San Jose.  

A rainy morning, an afternoon in town, forging flight tickets, I’ll explain later, promise.

Brandy, my room-mate and Nick her guest came along for the ride. “If we work around your schedule can we get a ride to town with you and back?”   Nick is a man of few words, a seasonal forest firefighter.   Nick is best explained by his answer to Margot’s hypothetical question.  If you were stranded on an island, never able to get off for the rest of your life, what five people dead or alive would you choose to have with you?

“I don’t know five people.   I’d take Jim, because he has a boat and Abraham Lincoln.”

Enough said on that.”

One empty propane tank to be swapped, a box of empty rum bottles, Jesus guys, and a bag of trash to be disposed of in town an enormous tupperware container filled with the food scraps from last nights vegan meal were carried down to the dock, the scraps giving to the fish.  

Back in town I checked with my boat guy, yes he could repaint my boat while I was gone.  This also leaves me with a way to keep her under covers so she doesn’t sink in the rain.   Brandy asked, “How much time do you need?” A couple of hours.  She said she’d call me at three, it was two and she didn’t have much that she needed to do.   Umm, my schedule, remember. Forge ticket, check.  Bank money, check.

Walking back I was hailed by Worth a local legend.   I could go on about Worth for hours a fun loving, boat repairing, fishing, snake catching, story telling guy who thinks all things should be consumed in massive excess.  He and his running mate, Mike were in the usuals spot, sitting on the small deck of an upscale hotel, drinking heavily and smoking on deck sitting next to a no smoking sign.  I made introductions and Margot and I each got a beer.  The stories started to flow out of Worth and Mike at speed which made Margot grin.  Damn, some more characters.   The sunken boat.  Another sunken boat.   A ten day cocaine binge in the the slums of Panama City where gringos don’t tread.  A drinken binge that ended with Worth passed on with his hair stuck in some cement that had dried with vultures perched by looking at him.   Another with him laying on the floor of his kitchen in pools of black blood from his stomach lining.   Holding his herniated guts in with duct tape and getting sewn up by a dancing surgeon who banged his head on the surgery room light.   Scores more.   Couldn’t stop laughing.

I was informed that my other room-mate Becky had moved out living in town with three young musicians that refer to this twenty nine year old as “the old woman”, this I’ve heard from Becky, the rest is too far out to be believed.

Packing.  “I can’t find my passport.  Last time I saw it was next to your computer when you were making reservations.”  It went missing for at least an hour and Margot remained remarkably calm.  Finally I found it on my dresser, in my passport waterproof holder.   I believe I was showing the case to Margot and just casually flung it on my dresser after demonstrating how it is used, with her passport inside.  I doubt she’ll ever let me touch her passport again.  Exploded shampoo bottle, everything needs to be washed at midnight and we have to get up at six.

No I had to get the registration laminated, by law, that was quick and easy, a quick walk down the street 15 minutes and $4 later I was done.   We ate, picked up some beer to give to Verne, went to his place, not a person in site, you see right through the house on the water.   I have the watch dog a pat on the head, walked up to the wall-less house and deposited our gift at the door.  Back around the other side of the island we encounted them.   Have to stop and chat.   “Hey Verne I left something for you at your house.” “Thanks, did you leave her tied up?”  

More boating, went over to Bastimentos, walked over the island and swam at Red Frog Beach.  “This is the most awesome water I’ve seen!”   Yeah girl, I told you Panama is better than Costa Rica.   An early night, a home cooked meal and some cards.