Uno, Dos, Tres.....

As American Flight 1234 landed in San Jose Costa Rica, Jason M was hard pressed in between a native Costa Rican and an American escaped convict in misery class. I had given up being upset that my upgrade to first class didn’t go through. I’m sure I lost out to one of the 4 kids from the same family wasting prime ass space and free cocktails in the big seats up front. For the record, kids should NOT be allowed in first class. Yeah I said it. The flight from Miami is defiantly not one Ill take again. The Dallas flight is much less crowded and less third worldly feeling. I was waiting for the live chickens and incense to make their appearance, he body odor already had.

I bought and stuffed the two single largest suitcases I have ever seen with clothes, laptops, some pictures and stuffed armadillo for good measure. I had to pay to put them on the plane, but that beats the 50% import taxes levied on goods shipped here from the US. The Manuel Noriega customs agent looked at me and laughed as I maneuvered my bags through his line. I think he waved me through out of pity, knowing I was about to be attacked by the hoards of screaming taxi drivers and local nardewells that crowd the airport exit as you try to make your way to your car. I literally had to swat them off of me.. Note to self: White boy with big, unmanageable, awkward bags= huge opportunity to be taken for a ride from a local yokel.

My company had a driver pick me up/ I would say that made me feel pretty fabulous, except I was in the passenger seat of a dodge neon with no exhaust pipe. We wound our way to the corporaty-apartmenty place im hanging my hat for this week. I checked in and then immediately checked out the bed.

Today was filled with introductions, a welcome lunch, my first conference call, and most importantly house hunting. Juan-Pablo, my realtor, worked his Columbian ass off driving me around the city. He speaks fantastic English and kept saying “im sorry very much Mr. Jason” every time he hit a pothole. Evidentially he believes Potholes don’t occur in America, I didn’t have the heart to correct him. I found a fantastic place to live. It was built last year by a local architect who also lives on the property. There are 4 detached townhouses in the complex. 3 bedrooms, a maids room, a security guard, and for good measure a toothless german shepherd (not kidding) who gets fed mashed up corn meal with vitamins in it. Houses here don’t come with ANYTHING in them.. so you have to buy kitchen appliances or get your realtor to negotiate that into the deal. Juan Pablo pulled out his Columbian card and the landlord (also Columbian) magically agreed to appliances and a reduced rental rate. I told Juan-Pablo that he “rocked”, he thought I meant I was going to throw something at him. Im doing the American reputation loads of favors here.

I was so beat when I got back in, I attempted to call and order a pizza and somehow got soup and a sandwich. I have no idea if that’s what I ordered or if they just got it wrong. I ate it anyway. It is clearly time for some espanol leciones por favor. Si, como no! Gracias. (Jasons Spanish vocab condensed.)

Tomorrow, I have to be at the office at 8am....... um.....yeah.