When my wife Tabatha and I decided to move out of the United States a year ago, we first thought about Canada. We thought about the weather there. It would be cold, and there would probably be lots of snow. Then we thought about Canada’s official languages: English and French. I took French in high school, but you know what happens to the language we learn in high school after so many years of never needing to use it.

When I moved to Easton PA in 2016, I noticed there were many Spanish speakers in the city. That inspired me to start learning Spanish. So I downloaded Duolingo and played around on it off and on for a few years. About a year prior to our decision to move, I felt inspired to get more serious about learning Spanish, so I started using Rosetta Stone.

I didn’t want to move someplace where I would have to start learning another language. I wanted to use the Spanish I had learned, and neither Tabatha nor I wanted anything more to do with the cold and snow. We wanted someplace warm where I could speak Spanish.

Tabatha had been ill for a long time. She needed to retire early. The pandemic helped her a great deal because she was able to work from home for a while. Soon, everyone was forced back into the office, but that environment was too stressful for her. All around her, people were working well past their retirement ages for fear of not having enough money or health insurance benefits to live well in retirement. Tabatha decided that she wasn’t going to destroy her health for fear of not having enough.

Tabatha knew that she would need to continue working part-time and that I would need to work nearly full-time in order for us to make ends meet. Before she retired, Tabatha set herself up with meaningful part-time work as a grant writer for the local homeless shelter. I had been working a part-time job. After Tabatha retired, we realized that even though we had a small mortgage and no other debt, the cost of health insurance, utilities, and home maintenance could quickly deplete our savings unless we continued working – most likely well into our old age.

However, in order to obtain affordable (government-subsidized) health insurance, our income couldn’t exceed a certain threshold. If our income exceeded it, we would have to pay back the subsidy in full. We seriously doubted we would be able to live off the limited income necessary to avoid having to pay back thousands of dollars in taxes. Our income wasn’t enough to pay for health insurance coverage without a subsidy. With a subsidy, our allowable income wouldn’t be enough for us to survive.

We felt stuck. Suddenly, we were inspired to think outside-the-box. Most Americans never think about the fact that there might be better places to live than in America. We hear so much talk about “the American dream” – people coming to America in search of a better life. Our “American dream” turned out to be leaving America. We decided on a place where we could live well enough on Tabatha’s pension alone, and by working a little on the side, travel and play.

Costa Rica was the place, but working a little on the side would be problematic. We would seek residency through Tabatha’s pension, but as “pensionados,” we are not allowed to get a Costa Rican job. Tabatha has been lucky enough to be able to continue working remotely as a grant writer for the homeless shelter. But what work would I be able to do?

Anyone in Costa Rica is allowed to work for themselves. I am a minister and a teacher. Would I be able to continue working as a minister in Costa Rica? Costa Rica is mostly Catholic and therefore fairly conservative. That’s definitely not me, so I didn’t count on finding many ministry opportunities. However, I could see myself having plenty of teaching opportunities, especially if I moved into the realm of TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language).

About four months prior to our move, I got onto TEFL.org and started training to become a TEFL instructor. I took the general 120-hour TEFL training course. After that, I took a 40-hour Teaching English Online course since I knew I wanted to teach online. I started thinking about the competitiveness of the TEFL instructor market. There are many TEFL instructors out there. I may have almost 30 years of teaching experience, but I don’t have any TEFL experience.

How was I going to leverage the experience I do have to market myself? I was advised to find my TEFL-teaching niche. Do I want to teach kids? No. Do I want be a pronunciation expert? No. Do I want to teach Business English? No. Do I want to focus on a specific nationality? Perhaps. It may be beneficial to teach Central American students since I would be living in Central America and learning Spanish. Do I want to teach proficiency test preparation?

BAM! There’s my niche! I had been teaching GED test preparation for as long as I’ve been a teacher. I know how to prepare people for testing, and I love helping people pass whatever test they need to pass to move onto bigger and better things. A month after we arrived in Costa Rica, I took a 40-hour Exam Preparation course, and I started figuring out how to market myself as a TEFL Exam Preparation instructor.

Acorn Test Prep was born. I created a website and a Facebook page. I’ve written some blogs, made and shared some posts, made a video and Facebook reel, and shared my expertise on an IELTS test prep group and on Quora. I’ve spent money on advertisements on both Facebook and Quora. I’ve grown my Facebook page to 23 followers, and I have had a bunch of people contact me who are interested in my business.

I have yet to earn a single dollar as a TEFL Test Prep instructor. 😊 It’s okay. I know it takes time to built a business especially in a competitive market. I’m optimistic. I believe that with continued work marketing myself, I will eventually start attracting students. You all can help me out by liking and following my Facebook page and sharing my website with anyone you think might need at TEFL instructor.

Next Post: Torn Meniscus and Other Pains

My promised next post was supposed to be “Moving to Costa Rica: Figuring Out Work.” Since we’re still figuring out work, that post will have to wait. For this post, I’ve decided to come clean. I’ve been posting all good stuff about our move to Costa Rica, but the truth is it hasn’t been all good.

Believe me.

When we first got here, the weather was perfect. The temperature was always between the mid-sixties and low eighties. Now, it’s not-so-perfect. The end of the dry season brings higher temperatures, and the beginning of the rainy season brings higher humidity. The intersection has resulted in the middle of the day being unbearably hot and humid. That’s how we discovered the brilliance of “la siesta.” It’s just too dang sweltering to do anything but nap.

It’s peaceful here, but that doesn’t mean it’s quiet. The neighbor behind us has a chicken coop. I thought that roosters crow only at sunrise. Nope, they crow whenever they feel like it even if it’s 3 AM. They are just like barking dogs. Speaking of barking dogs, one of our neighbors has a yippy little dog that yips incessantly. It yips at every little sound. It starts yipping when it hears the little squeak the gate makes when I open it to take Jackson for a walk.

So far, I’ve resisted the urge to yell, “Oh shut up, will you?”

Trash is picked up every night, but recycling is picked up only once per month. Sadly, bags that are left out for trash are often thrown out into the middle of the street, torn open, and inspected for anything useful. Once we found our recycling bag torn open and its contents scattered about in a nearby park. Many of the Ticos are very poor, and this is how they survive, but it makes a disgusting mess. To deal with this issue, we hired someone to pick up our recycling and take it to the recycling center every couple of weeks. We take only a small bag of trash out every night, and if our street is a mess, I go out with a broom and bucket and clean it up.

There are often homeless people napping on the sidewalks, and when we go downtown, we are panhandled most of the time. In the grocery store, women have asked us to buy them a few necessities, and on the street, we are often asked for coins. Yesterday, one guy was pretty persistent. I don’t think he knew any English except for “One dollar!” So, I gave him one dollar (a 500-colone coin). The locals see dollar signs when they see Americans and Europeans, and they aren’t wrong. Tabatha and I aren’t rich, but compared to what many Ticos have – we are. We don’t mind helping people out, but being frequently panhandled can be a bit unsettling.

We were delighted with the supersized avocados, but not so delighted with the supersized rats. One rat decided to mosey into our house through our front gate while we were eating lunch. We swear, it looked right at Tabatha as if to say, “Hola! Que hay de comer?” (Hello! What’s to eat?). First, we screamed like a couple of frightened children. Then, we chased it around the house. It left droppings everywhere. The poor thing was obviously terrified. We trapped it in the bathroom and enlisted the help of our neighbor Mayela. She arrived with her specialist equipment for rat elimination: a broom. Unfortunately, she couldn’t save us. The rat was hiding inside a hole it dug in the wall.

I deduced that it was far better to let the rat come out of hiding and find its way out of the house. I didn’t want it to starve to death inside our wall because then we’d have to deal with the distinctive aroma known as “rotting rat carcass.” First, I created a barrier so that the only way the rat could go was out. Then I opened the bathroom door and waited. Eventually the rat came out, but when I saw it, I gasped. That spooked it, so it ran back into hiding. It came back out a few minutes later, and I held my breath while it scampered around, eventually discovering the way out.

It didn’t take long- thank goodness.

Speaking of our neighbor Mayela, she is a gem. We love her. She is like our “mom away from home.” But just like a next-door mom, she can be a bit intrusive. She regularly rings our doorbell, or stands at our gate yelling, “¡Upe!” (Yoo-hoo!). It causes quite a commotion because the dog starts crazy barking and bolting to the gate. It’s quite disruptive when we’re in the middle of an online Spanish lesson, or talking to someone on WhatsApp, or in the bathroom. To deal with this issue, Tabatha and I devised an ingenious plan. We created a “Do not Disturb” sign (post image). We explained to Mayela that when this sign is on the door, we are working, so we can’t come to the door. We plan to use this sign not only when working, but also whenever we want some privacy.

Two days after we got here, a water main break disrupted the water supply for the entire city for a couple of days, and the water supply is sometimes cut off for maintenance. The electricity blips off and back on regularly, so the electric company occasionally turns off the electricity in sectors for a couple of hours to prevent brownouts. We’ve learned to invest in a surge protector with battery backup. And the plumbing in our house? Not-so-good. We’ve had a major sewage back-up into our shower. It was so gross. We’ve learned to use the smallest amount of toilet paper necessary and to use drain cleaner monthly to avoid clogs.

The truth is that no matter where you go, a city is a city and people are people and life is life. The problems we may hope to escape in one place often show up in the new place, and/or we may end up with new problems to replace the old ones. To live here more happily and healthily, we’ve needed to make some attitude adjustments and lifestyle changes.

That’s not easy, and we’re just getting started.

Do we regret moving to Costa Rica? No, we don’t regret it. To be happy anywhere is a choice and that choice often involves hard work. We have chosen to be happy here, and we will do the hard work that requires.

Next Post: Figuring Out Work

Six months ago, when we were back in the States thinking about our move to Costa Rica, we knew we would be faced with language challenges. Tabatha had been studying Spanish for only a couple of months, and although I had been studying for a couple of years, I was still only a beginner. There was no way for us to know what it would be like.

It didn’t take long for us to find out. From the moment we stepped out of the plane, Spanish was everywhere.

We read all kinds of reassurances online about how we didn’t have to worry about not knowing how to speak Spanish because you can always just use Google Translate. Google Translate is great! It quickly became our best friend. It helps us translate signs, grocery store labels, ingredients, and product descriptions. It helps us figure out how to ask for what we want or need, and if our pronunciation is so bad that we get confused looks, it will even speak for us.

I found that to be very useful one day when I asked a grocery store clerk where I could find yeast. The Spanish word for yeast is “levadura.” It’s pronounced leh-vah-doo-rah. Now, I thought that’s how I pronounced it, but apparently I pronounced it “lav-ah-dor-ah.” The clerk was quite confused. You see, “lavadora” is the Spanish word for a washing machine. He might have thought, “Why the heck is she looking for a washing machine in a grocery store?”

I have found another Spanish word that can get you misunderstood if you fail to pronounce it precisely. The word for hair is “cabello,” pronounced “kah-bay-yoh.” It’s very easy to mistakenly pronounce it “kah-bye-yoh.” You might think you’re asking the hairdresser to wash your hair, but what you’re really asking her to do is wash your horse (caballo).

Google Translate also has this wonderful feature called “Conversation” that can automatically translate between two people. Theoretically, that is. If you’ve ever heard a native Spanish speaker, you know that they seem to speak very fast. That’s because the words flow into each other, making it difficult to pick out the individual words unless you have a trained ear. You can ask the person, “Por favor, hable más despacio” (speak more slowly please), but I’ve found that most can’t because it’s just not natural for them. Google’s “ear” may be better trained than mine, but it is still no match for my next-door neighbor’s or the handyman’s thoroughbred pace.

Google also does not translate local slang accurately, so the translation doesn’t always make sense. For example, in Costa Rica, there’s the saying, “¡Que torta!” It means, “What a mess!” A Costa Rican “torta” is like an omelet or a quiche – a mess of ingredients thrown together and then cooked. Google translates “¡Que torta!” as “What a cake!” According to my Costa Rican Spanish teacher, the word for cake is “queque,” which Google translates as “what what.” Another Costa Rican saying is “¡Que chicha!” This is an expression of anger that often follows an unexpected and unwelcome surprise. Google translates that as “What a girl!”

“¡Que torta!”

We read all kinds of reassurances online about how we don’t have to worry about not knowing how to speak Spanish because many Costa Ricans speak English, and they will often switch from Spanish to English if it appears you are struggling to understand. We’ve been here over a month, and I can count the number of times that has happened on the fingers of one hand. It has happened most often with key service providers such as doctors, lawyers, and bankers. I learned not to bother asking the guy behind the meat counter “¿Habla usted inglés?” (Do you speak English?). No, I’ve learned how to say, “Quisiera un kilo de carne molida por favor” (I’d like a kilo of ground beef please).

There are more bilinguals in tourist areas, but we are not living on the beach. We are living in the Central Valley in the city of San Ramón. Here, it seems, most people don’t speak English even though Costa Ricans learn English in school. I learned French in school. Guess how much French I remember today? The other day, my neighbor introduced her eleven-year-old “nieto” to me. When I looked confused, the kid said, “grandson.”

Yes, Costa Ricans learn English in school, but just like with the French I learned, if you don’t use it, you lose it. Some do remember a little bit of English from school, and they like to use it. Occasionally, we say “Buenos días” to someone on the street, and we get a “Good morning!” in response. And sometimes, we get a “thank you” in response. We can’t help but grin. We all love to hear our own language – even if it isn’t quite right.

I guess we can’t hide it. We are obviously English-speaking gringos. But we are living in a Spanish-speaking country now, so I feel it is my responsibility to learn how to speak the language. The Spanish phrase that comes out of my mouth most frequently is an apology: “Lo siento. Mi español no es muy bueno” (I’m sorry. My Spanish isn’t very good).

There are many other English-speakers who live here, some for many years, who haven’t bothered to learn Spanish. I don’t blame them. It takes a ton of time and hard work. I believe that not knowing the language puts you at a serious disadvantage, and I’m not willing to accept living that way. Admittedly, the choice to learn was easy for me because I’m a language geek. Tabatha isn’t, but she has become fascinated by the structure of the Spanish langue.

When I first got here, I was afraid to try to communicate in Spanish. When listening, I was so focused on translating the words that I would miss the obvious meaning from the context and the person’s body language. Tabatha was much better at this because she didn’t even try to translate the words. When speaking, I was too afraid of making mistakes: using the wrong part of speech or conjugating a verb incorrectly.

I was too focused on vocabulary and grammar. Yes, being a language geek was getting in my way. I’m now finding that I can speak Spanish better than I think. Many people have said, “Habla usted español muy bien” (You speak Spanish very well). Of course, taking Spanish classes four days a week for the past month has helped a lot! There are times when I feel great – like “Yeah, I can do this! Look at me! I’m speaking Spanish!”

Still there are also plenty of times when I fall flat on my face. I feel dumb – a lot. Many times, all I can say at the end of a conversation is, “Gracias por su paciencia” (Thank you for your patience).

People are people wherever you go. Some are more patient than others, but I’d have to say most people here are patient and really appreciate people’s attempts to speak their language. I think my fears of their impatience and intolerance are mostly in my head. It takes a lot longer to communicate here. Perhaps I’m projecting my own impatience and intolerance onto them. Yes, I’m the one who is impatient and too hard on myself.

Truly, I have never experienced anything more humbling.

Next Post: The Not-So-Good Stuff

We arrived in Costa Rica on March 21, 2023 early in the morning on a beautiful day and began our new lives in a country we have never visited – not even once. We anticipated that we would experience a culture different from that of the United States, but we couldn’t have imagined what it would be like. Now that we have been here for over three weeks, we are beginning to get a taste of culture shock . In some ways it has been bitter and in other ways sweet.

I will start with the bitter. First of all, in Costa Rica, the traffic is horrible. We chose not to drive in Costa Rica, and we are so glad we made that choice. We hired drivers for two trips from San Ramón to San José and back, and both times, the hour-long drive took more than two hours. On the second trip, the driver attempted to avoid the traffic by taking death-defying cliff-hanging back roads that made us seriously doubt if we would survive. The reward for our near heart failure was that we got to see some fantastic views. We certainly didn’t get to San Ramón any faster.

Second, I thought the sidewalks in Easton, PA were bad. Not compared to the sidewalks in San Ramón. You need to pay attention when walking, or you could easily step into one of many holes, trip over a sudden rise or fall in the sidewalk, or fall into the deep drainage ditches (our poor dog has done that a few times). Just today, while walking downtown, I looked over the edge of the sidewalk, and there must have been a four-foot drop onto the street. I felt like I was walking along a cliff with no railing. In Easton, I saw people with disabilities riding around in powered wheelchairs or scooters all the time. I haven’t seen anyone doing that here. They would have to be loco.

Why are Costa Rica’s roads and sidewalks so bad? Because they don’t prioritize infrastructure issues. They expect people to be aware of traffic and infrastructure issues, take responsibility, and act like rational adults. Costa Rica spends most of its money on three things: education, social services, and healthcare. Knowing this, I can forgive the horrible traffic and horrendous sidewalks.

Now for the sweet. The park is always full of people of all ages enjoying recreational activities, whether they are working out with the provided fitness equipment, walking or running around the field, playing on the playground, or playing a game on the basketball court or soccer field. Their faces are all brimming with sheer pleasure and relaxing enjoyment. Whenever I saw the few people in U.S. parks engaging in recreational activities, they didn’t appear to be enjoying it so much. They appear to be trying get fit for some big event or engaging in serious competition. That kind of pressure doesn’t seem to exist in Costa Rica. Apparently, it isn’t necessary. Costa Ricans are generally healthy and fit.

Some of the conveniences I enjoyed in the U.S. are non-existent here. I wanted to buy a mop with a disposable head – like a Swiffer. No such thing here. The way you mop in Costa Rica is by clipping a rag to the end of a pole. You wring it out by hand, and if you want it clean, you have to rinse it out or wash it. Why do I consider that sweet? In the U.S. there are many products that make life more convenient, but we don’t think its impact on the environment. For example, when we were living in the U.S., we were using a Brita pitcher, and we had over two dozen filters that we needed to recycle. Unfortunately, the company had dissolved their recycling program, so all those filters sadly ended up going in the trash. Many U.S. companies refuse to take responsibility for recycling the products they sell, and the environment suffers. The Costa Ricans don’t sacrifice the environment for convenience.

The sweetest thing of all is that in Costa Rica, you get treated like a real person who matters. More than once, I received a hug and kiss on the cheek simply for introducing myself. The sincere hospitality and generosity of our neighbors has also been a shock. We are foreigners, but we are treated like friends. Our neighbor has brought us wonderful tortillas and custards and complete plates of food. When there was a water main break, they took care of us, taking us in their car to the water truck and giving us containers so that we could collect water for ourselves. In the U.S., foreigners are treated with cold indifference at best.

In the U.S., when people meet for business purposes, they immediately get down to business. In Costa Rica, before business is conducted, people talk to each other. They actually take the time to check in on each other’s wellbeing and to get to know each other. When they say, “Cómo está usted?” (How are you?), they genuinely want to know how you are. There is about ten minutes of chatting before they actually get down to business. This has been extremely enlightening for me. I didn’t realize this before, but the message we Americans send in getting right down to business is this: “I don’t care who you are. I care only about what you can do for me.”

In America, the focus is on business. In Costa Rica, the focus is on relationships: relationships between people and the relationship between the people and the earth. In America, it’s all about money. In Costa Rica, it’s all about community.

That may be why Costa Ricans are among the happiest people on earth, and we are very happy to be living among them.

Next post: Language Shock