A tale of two markets

Ask anyone who's visited Costa Rica what they liked and they'll regale you with stories of rain forests, tropical birds, pristine beaches and zip lines. Food courts? They don't make the tourist route quite as often. Not being tourists in this place, we hopped in one of our favorite red taxis today to make a quick trip down to the Mutiplaza Escazu.

Two floors of luxury shopping

Boasting over 500 stores, this mall sets the pace for western commercialism here in Costa Rica! Cartier, Hugo Boss, The North Face, and and Timberland are just a few of the big names we passed on the way to our two main destinations today: the pet store and the food court.

Danna rubs noses with a feline friend

As you can probably imagine in a place like this, the food court is filled with exotic, Costa Rican restaurants. Like MacDonalds. And Taco Bell. And Pizza Hut.

Fast food - Costa Rican Style

Two cajitas felices ("happy boxes" = happy meals) and a Taco Bell meal in hand, we headed to an empty table and chowed down on junk food that looked and tasted just like the stuff in the US. OK - the happy meal boxes were in Spanish... but apart from that, we could have been eating the processed, frozen, reheated and internationally uniform meals in the Quail Springs mall in Oklahoma City! As a point of reference - the "Happy Meal Economic Index" here is about $4.

Donuts? Fashion? Ride-on toys? Multiplaza Mall is your kind of place!

Just down the road from our house though, is a very different kind of market. Open every Saturday morning, the Escazu Feria (Farmer's Market) is the place to go for fresh produce, fruit, and a much less "developed" shopping experience.

A street in the center of Escazu turns into a weekly farmer's market

This is the kind of market I grew up around. A busy pedestrian street packed with temporary stalls. Shoppers wandering from stall to stall to find the freshest veggies or best deal. Dogs playing in the gutters. There didn't seem to be much haggling here - prices were scribbled on handmade signs, and that was that.

Kyler and Danna check out some HUGE bananas!

This market wasn't the most fun for the kids... especially on a hot morning. But the copos (shaved ice with flavored syrup dumped on top) made the trip worth it!

Ice + Flavored syrup = Copos

And if you're really feeling energetic, you can join the guys on the basketball court next to the market for a quick game up pickup hoops.

Wanna shop? High-class or low-class, San Jose's got you covered. And those rain forests and beaches? We'll get there eventually!

Splash down in Costa Rica

San Jose, Costa Rica gets an average of 10 inches of rain in August. Most of that 10 inches seems to have fallen in our first 7 days here in San Jose. It's not the constant gloomy drizzle of say - the Pacific Northwest in the winter. Rather, the average day starts out gorgeous - puffy white clouds against a blue sky. Around noon, the dark grey clouds move in to replace the white ones, and with a clap or two of thunder, the heavens open up. The clouds move down from the mountain tops surrounding the city. A single watery splat on a leaf is joined by a ping on the tin roof next door, which is accompanied by a cascade of slaps on the leaves of the palm tree... and then BOOM. The heavens open up, and the air turns to water with a liquid roar.

Rain on our driveway

We got the full taste of a San Jose rainstorm firsthand on day two here in Costa Rica. We had noticed a frozen yogurt store "just down the hill" from our house, and decided to take an afternoon walk to get some dessert. As we left the house, the clouds were beginning to gather - and about half way down the hill, down came the rain. The kids were suited up in their rain gear, "just in case", but Erin and I quickly found that our Old Navy anoraks were just not up to keeping out a real rainstorm. After a drippy snack, we headed back up the hill to the house in the middle of a thunderstorm. Kyler, buckled in his stroller, promptly fell fast asleep. Soaked the bone, we made it back home 15 minutes later - having survived our first family walk in the rain.

Stuck in the rain without an umbrella? No worries - just pick a REALLY BIG LEAF!

Costa Rica is an interesting study in contrasts. It's a country fighting for "developed" status, but not quite there yet. In our neighborhood, high walls surround palatial villas and condominium complexes (AKA town houses on a compound). But the houses are wired for electricity via a bare wire twisting down between the tree branches from the overhead lines to a junction box outside the gate. Tap water is clean and safe to drink in San Jose. But the gutters on the sides of the potholed streets look (and smell) quite a bit like open sewers.

Our neighborhood in the Escazu hills above San Jose.

Taxis are clean and safe, and are driven by smart, tie-wearing drivers. But the "addresses" those taxis are dispatched to start with a well known (you hope) landmark, and proceed with directions such as "100 meters south, 125 meters southwest..." The distances - and even compass bearings seem to bear little resemblance to geographic reality, so most rides involve the taxi driver waving down a passerby to ask for directions. Add our mangled "Spanglish" to the mix, and it's a wonder we're able to direct a taxi to our place at all!

One of our neighbors.

TV and Internet in San Jose is provided via cable, but the installers insisted that the only place they could install our internet was in our laundry room. This is the same laundry room that came complete with plugged drains and pipes that can't keep up with our washing machine's output. Worried about a flood outside during a torrential downpour? Well, we have a flood inside as well - but thankfully only during the rinse and spin cycles!

Yet another reason to always pack duct tape, and our "home office"

It's always tricky to land firmly on your feet in a new place - and our arrival to San Jose has been no different. This first week, we've felt like we've been caught in a rainstorm - and not just the one outside on the way to the frozen yogurt store.

Trying to describe to a taxi driver in Spanish on a cellphone how to find your house... SPLAT!

Meeting a whole new Embassy worth of people, projects, issues and personalities... PLOP!

Fighting leaking washing machines while keeping three kids occupied and off each others nerves... DRIBBLE!

Trying to figure why the cable guys are looking for the "cable largo y negro" poking out of a wall and why they have to install the internet in the laundry room instead of at any of the other perfectly good cable jacks in the house... PITTER PATTER DRIP DROP.

BOOM! FLASH! ROAR!

But the nice thing about the rain in San Jose? It never lasts for long. The clouds move on, the sky clears up, and a light breeze circulates the cool, slightly damp air through the house. It's crisp, clean and refreshing. And tonight, as I look down on the lights of San Jose glittering like a thousand diamonds in the valley below us, I realize something. That this type of "everything is frustrating and a little bit overwhelming" thunderstorm is normal for a splashdown in a brand new place. And just like the rain, it too will pass eventually. With every new word of Spanish, each new discovery, each new friend and contact, this place, like any place we bring our little tribe to, will feel more and more like home.

I do need to get a new raincoat through!

Coming "Home"

As a kid, America was a tantalizing but slightly hazy dream. When television came to Sri Lanka, my brothers and I learned about the multi-lane highways waching CHiPs or Knight Rider. Pictures of National Monuments would shine from the pages of our World Book encyclopedia set. To us, America was the land of the impossible. Drinking water from the tap without getting sick. Flying along in a car at 60 miles an hour or faster, and not having to dodge potholes, elephants, pedestrians and ox carts. Our mouths would water at the mention of that mystical temple of culinary elightenment called McDonalds. Everything was bigger, shinier, cleaner. America was the place our passports told us was home. Though we didn't really know why, it was the place we were "from" somehow.

Our kids, growing up in an age of instant information and connectivity, webcams and satellite TV still feel a little of the same cultural dislocation. When Jad informed us at the dinner table that the New York Yankees were his favorite baseball team we were surprised. How did he become a Yankee fan? Turns out that his Polish buddy at the International School in Prague told him they were the best. Ask him to how the game is played and he wouldn't have a clue. An Eastern European first grade teaching our American kid about his national pastime. In a way, it tells the story of sometimes strange life we lead as expat Americans.

Sipping from Portland Oregon's "Benson Bubblers"

"Home Leave" is all about closing that gap with your homeland. Seeing through your own eyes what your own country is all about. After three years in Europe, we were ready to re-introduce our own tribe of global nomads (including ourselves) to "home."

Saying goodbye to Rubesh cousins (Thailand branch)


Kyler's not so sure about the cold waters of the Pacific


Trout fishing in Trout Lake, Washington


"Kissin Cousins?"


"Real live cowboys" in Washington State

Spending time with the kids' Great Grandparents


On the rim of Crater Lake


Danna makes a new friend at the AKC Dog Show


Fourth of July "picnic" during an Oklahoma thunderstorm


Small-town Fourth of July Parade


Finale of the Fourth of July fireworks show


Kyler meets a new friend at Toys R Us


A couch full of cousins.


Hanging out in the pool.


Living room fashion show


Hanging out with the Cartoon Network


High School reunion in Boston


Collecting eggs on the farm in Texas


Meeting "Barbara Manatee" in Dallas

We didn't quite make it all the way from "sea to shining sea," but we got close! From the West Coast to the East, from Boston to Dallas, we made fantastic memories in during the last two months. Memories we'll all file away and add to our cultural identity as Americans. Mental snapshots to remind us of what America is all about as we head out tomorrow for our next adventure overseas - this time in Costa Rica. Farewell for now - but we can't wait to find out what new things we'll discover the next time we visit this place called home!

Chasing 7200

The house already sounds lonely. It's those empty echoes of noise bouncing off of bare walls that make this move thing finally seem real. As the last box was packed, loaded and sealed into a shipping crate the metamorphosis from home to house became complete. 6835 pounds of computers, bikes, electronics, toys, stuffed animals, pots, pans, trash cans, pictures, coloring books... and all the stuff that we drag around with us from post to post around the world, packed away to be seen next sometime this Fall when we arrive in Costa Rica.

7200. We've been chasing the magic number for the last month or so. 7200 pounds. The limit within which we're required to compress our lives every three years as we travel around the world. It's nice in a way. Call it a periodic forced "Spring Cleaning." A chance to look at what you have, and decide what's really important to keep around.

The National Geographic Magazine collection that's been gathering dust, waiting for that perfect moment of down time to read all those fascinating articles? Donated to a worthy cause. Ten year old road bike that's only been ridden once on Prague's cobblestoned streets, and isn't likely to get much use on San Jose's congested calles? Sold at bargain basement price. Collection of hundreds of CD's? Digitized and downsized. Untouched toys, plastic bits and pieces and scores of precious "works of art" in crayon, marker and watercolor? Given away or surreptitiously carried out to the trash once the kids were asleep.

And so the bits and pieces of our lives here have been sold, donated, trashed or packed away until there's not much left but an echoing, empty house, some suitcases ready to wing their way across the Atlantic next weekend, and the little bitty computer I'm typing this on. But as the truck with our 6835 pounds of stuff pulled away down Nad Markytou road, I realized that the really important things we've accumulated here in Prague don't weigh a pound - and we don't even need to pack them away!

Goodnight snuggles; discussions over breakfast oatmeal on whether or not Aliens really exist; walks over the Charles Bridge in the dead of winter when no tourists are around; ruined castles and medieval festivals; fresh snow in the morning; friends old and new - some who've left Prague before we will, and some who'll be here long after we move; Presidential "Hi-Fives" and chats with "Joe" (Biden); goulash and dumplings and chicken schnitzel and words with absolutely no vowels. All these memories and more we get to take with us wherever we go, and talk about for years to come.

And home? It's not really where the stuff is. It's wherever in the world our little tribe of global nomads happens to be. No matter what stuff we have surrounding us!

Pulling up roots

Maybe you remember what it's like when you've just plunked a potted plant into new soil. It's all self-contained and portable, not firmly attached to anything. You have to push the dirt down hard to make it stand up straight - pack it tight and add a little water. Come back a couple months later and it's a different story. Roots have wormed their way firmly into the ground, the plant has grown... and try to pull it out? You're in for a chore!

It's been three years. In this odd work/life thing we call the Foreign Service, that means it's time to yank up the plant. But as usual, "Family Rubesh" isn't quite as portable as it was when we pulled in to Prague - six suitcases, three car seats and a stroller in tow. Our family plant has done a bit of growing and root-spreading. Tendrils have been working through the classes of ISP, through the neighborhoods and back yards of Mala Sarka, winding their way around the chairs of Sarka Valley Community Church... and even through and under the 400 year old walls of my palace office. Ripping this plant up and starting in a brand new hole - on the other side of the world - is never easy.

2007

2010

Five weeks from last Saturday, we file onto a plane to start a new life (again), this time in Costa Rica. New climate, home, school, friends, church, wardrobe, work, boss, colleagues, language, food, currency, voltage, address, doctors... (did I miss anything?). It's exciting. It's stressful. It's frustrating. It's also an adventure - one more chapter in a book of memories that's taken our growing plant to three continents.

We have it easy(ish). My grandparents moved 5 kids to India via ship and steamer trunks. My parents did the same to Sri Lanka with 3 kids via 747's and 55-gallon barrels. We'll be using a team of packers, lift-vans and a 777 or two to transport the third generation of globe-trotting Rubeshes to the other side of the world.

So - let the fun begin. Chores for this week? Do a packing survey (packers come to estimate how much stuff they'll need to ship), wade through three years worth of accumulation in preparation for our neighborhood yard sale (ie: will I really need my cross-country skis in Costa Rica?), and go digital with our entire collection of CD's (too many - that's how many!)

Easter on the Hilltop

He is Risen!

Our Easter service this morning at Šárka Valley Community Church was a little different than usual. To start it off, we went in our hiking boots! Hiking boots firmly strapped on, we headed down the trail into the forest.


The first stop was the "tomb" (a cave) where the "stone" was still firmly in place. Note the plywood "stone" (OK, I know... but you get the idea, right?)


We moved up the hill to see the empty cross...

... and then returned to the tomb to find our plywood stone rolled away, and an angel telling us that Jesus was not there!

A great visual reminder of the Easter story - and one we'll remember for years to come.
We returned to the church for a brief message on Easter, a story for the kids, and a delicious Easter Brunch!

All that walking builds up an appetite!

A Bethlehem kind of year

Have you ever had plans go awry? Had a "sure thing" dissolve in the mists of uncertainty? A well practiced tune go a bit flat? Yeah? Us too! In fact, our entire year seems to have trundled well off the track we thought we'd set for it! If we've been out of touch with your recently, feel free to click the links to 'catch up'.

Here was the plan - Erin and the kids return from the uncertaintly of a three month "exile" for medical treatment in the US. We'd be back together as a family, and Danna's kidneys would respond well to the "mini-chemo" treatment. She'd join Jad at the school just a couple hundred meters out our door, and they'd both have a great final school year here in Prague. Meanwhile, at work, I'd coast to the end of our three-year tour here in Prague.

Ahh... (I chuckle)... how plans quickly go awry! Erin and the kids were back from the US for about a month before Danna relapsed again, and she went back on steroids (so much for the the chemo-cure). Our intricately planned ski vacation (day care for Kyler, Ski School for Jad and Danna, and "ski-dates" for Erin and me) went south when half of us got sicker than dogs (and the other half had to take care of the sick dogs). I passed the "sickies" on to Erin and the kids, who were nice enough to pass them back to me just in time for the Prague half-marathon, for which I'd been training for months (bronchitis and races do not go well together). We zipped through the summer in pretty good fashion, and things kind of went back to plan... for a while. Danna started Kindergarten, but shortly after she did so, also started a new course of drugs that severely suppress her immune system. Meanwhile, I kind of disappeared from the scene (and banished any dreams of "coasting" at work) for a while when I simultaneously took over my boss's job for the rest of our tour here in Prague, entertained guests from the White House, and hosted 160 of my colleagues for a regional conference.

By the end of October, the Rubesh Jalopy looked to be heading back to the Autobahn when we hit another detour... by the name of Swine Flu. As you may have read in the news, severely suppressed immune systems do not get along well with Swine Flu, and Danna's combination of strong medications and underlying health issues made her high risk for complications. Vaccine? Nowhere in sight. Jad and Danna went from ISP (International School of Prague) to RSP (Rubesh School of Prague) starting in November. Erin went from Chief Domestic Engineer to Educator in Chief. Ever tried to homeschool a first grader and kindergartener with an energetic toddler underfoot? Yeah? Not easy, eh? As if teaching / babysitting / cooking / mothering wasn't enough, the search for H1N1 vaccine was on. We looked under each rock and around every corner - emailing Doctors, Senators, and even the White House! In the end, the US Army came through, and we got the entire family vaccinated at a nearby base.

By now, you're probably wondering... "Wow - that's great and all, but I thought this was going to be a Christmas letter." Well, I was thinking the other day about the challenges of this year... and realized that all this "planning gone awry" stuff is really nothing new. In fact, the central characters in the Christmas story had a year even more chaotic than ours has been! I'm sure you've all heard the story - but here's what stood out to me this year.

Joseph strikes me as my kind of guy. He was a planner - you kind of have to be, to be a carpenter! No doubt he spent months planning his wedding - only to find out his fiancee was pregnant. Talk about a change in plans! He had just about finished redrawing his blueprint, deciding to protect Mary and end the engagement quietly when he got a visit from an Angel. Hard to plan for that! Knocked back onto his original track by the heavenly visitor, the dutiful husband probably starting working on getting the house ready for the new addition. Until the next bombshell hit - this one in the form of the Roman Emperor! Before you know it, he and a very pregnant Mary are on the road to Bethlehem - over 100 kilometers away - to take part in Caesar Augustus' census. This is back before you could hop on the internet to plot the best route and reserve a room at the inn. By the time they arrived in Bethlehem, there wasn't a bed in town! As a planning Dad/Father/Provider that's gotta hit hard! Fortunately, the baby arrives safely, Mary's OK, and apart from a couple unexpected visitors with sheep and camels in tow, things are looking good. Soon it's back to the woodworking shop , home, and "the plan"... right? But no - now a jealous King Herod's after Joseph and son, and the story takes another dramatic and unexpected turn - an exile in Egypt!

Unexpected pregnancies. Angelic visits. An Imperial summons. Death threats and exile in a faraway land. And I thought our year had surprises! The thing of it is... even though Joseph's year probably was nothing like what he had planned, the twists and turns fit perfectly into God's design. Amid the chaos of upset plans and unexpected detours, God's plan was born - in the shape of an infant... lying in a manger. In the commotion of a crowded stable the Prince of Peace entered the world.

Our year? Definitely not one for the planner in me! But if the story of Bethlehem is any indication, God uses the shattered pieces of our best laid plans to accomplish His purpose. Among the joy of presents, trees and wrapping paper this Christmas lies the reminder that the real reason for the season will continue to guide us, and give us Peace no matter how many unexpected twists and turns our path takes.

God bless, and Merry Christmas from Prague!