Don't Give Me No Bull

Don’t Give Me No Bull

John W. Gilmore

Just another day in Costa Rica, during the dry season. In Santa Anna de Piedades there was always a soft, gentle breeze. Fran and I sat in the Unity Church of Costa Rica located at the top of a hill on its own little campus at a workshop on some type of meditation or the other. It was too long ago for me to remember. I do remember how much Sarah and Benjamin enjoyed it--just as much we enjoyed them.

They were an older couple. I am not sure what their ages were, but they were pretty old--really old and not in good shape. They lived in a big, beautiful house right down the street from the church and wanted to move out of the neighborhood, which was getting a little too loud for them, and try a quieter place. We told them about San Ramon, where we had lived before and had purchased land from Joe Cart, a person who bought and sold land for a living.

San Ramon is a small, traditional town located along the western edge of what is known as the Central Valley Region of Costa Rica where almost 80% of the Ticos (the name that Costa Ricans have given themselves) live. San Ramon is located in the mountains so the temperature is cool, almost 65 to 70 degrees all year around and even cooler at night when you usually have to go outside wearing a sweater or jacket. It is quiet and surrounded by a large amount of land and many other small towns. One can get around the town just by walking, or taking cabs.

There are a few expats there, but mostly Ticos. We used to gather at the Solo Bueno Bookstore, a bookstore owned by an Expat Cuban named Jose, a rabid antagonist toward Cuba, Venezuela, and any revolutionary types of governments because his parents apparently, had fled Cuba during the Revolution. He had four computers in his bookstore for public use, and many used books written in English. I even set up a chair massage demo once in the bookstore. It was a great meeting place for expats. It was one of the many internet cafes that existed in San Ramon and many parts of a country where the majority of people didn’t have computers at home, or Wi-Fi. What made it best for us expats, was that we could meet there, have coffee, and swap stories. I thought San Ramon might be just the place for Sarah and Ben.

Jose was also a person who sold land and who had a small construction business going He and Joe were the main ones selling land. Joe Cart was a character who we had bought a large swath of land from at a reasonable price. Each plot was $50,000 for 5,000 Square Meters. “But if you get in early,” he said, with his deep southern Arkansas accent, “I’ll give it to you half price. As soon as we start building an infrastructure the price of the land will double. We’ll level the land, set up the infrastructure and everything for you free.”

We liked that idea and had him show us some land. He would pick us up in his silver Land Rover and ride us all over San Ramon up and down narrow unpaved roads that shook you so much and jarred your body so much that you had to clench your teeth to stop them from clacking together. We understood why he had the Land Rover and ended up buying a beautiful piece of land from him in an area called The Ridge. We had a good experience with him so we recommended Sarah and Ben visit San Ramon and set up an appointment with Joe. That day Joe picked us up in his large Land Rover. We took off exploring many little sites he had, up and down narrow, rocky roads. They were whole farms that developers would buy to cut up into parcels to make more money. They called it flipping land. That is how Joe made his money. Apparently several of these places existed all around San Ramon.

With Ben and Sarah we hadn’t found anything yet that day and decided to try one last place. “This one isn’t ready for sale yet,” Joe said, “But the deal will be closed soon.” We rocked back and forth going up the chopped up road--no black top, not even just a dirt road, but several rocks and stones and large potholes. We rocked and clung to whatever we could find for just a bit more stability. “We’ll smooth this road out, of course. When we sell a few pieces. This is a good road. You should see some of the other ones.” Fran and I looked at each other. What the heck was he talking about?

“I can see smoothing the road out, putting up a Wi-Fi tower and hooking up the water pipes. It all takes time, but when we have done it you’ll have a nice little home here. Your community will be up here in this quiet place, or it could be an investment.” He pulled the big truck over, put it in park, turned it off and took the key. “Let’s take a look,” He said. We began to get out of the car. Ben and Sarah were very old. They could barely walk or get out of the vehicle. They had an old dog that couldn't even walk as well as they could. It took a long time for them to extricate themselves from the high Land Rover.

We began to walk across the beautiful, green field. The grass was thick, the sky bright blue. A wind was gently blowing on this beautiful day. As you looked over the field you could feel the tranquility. Looking out from the top of the hill we saw only the rooftops of the town far below, and trees, and if you looked far enough, even a view of the ocean. And then we heard something like a roar.

We turned, and way across the field there was a bull charging in our direction. My jaw dropped. I just couldn’t believe it. Joe started shouting, “Quick! Get back in the car!” Sarah and Ben couldn’t hear him as Fran and I rushed toward the car and paused, concerned about them. “Get in the car, quick! Ben started shouting!” They looked bewildered until they looked up and saw a bull charging down on us. They tried to run, but couldn’t. They just hobbled as quickly as they could.

“I’ll pull the car in between us,” Joe shouted, as he jumped in, started the engine, and pulled closer to them while blocking them from the charging bull. We were lucky it was far away. We shoved the old dog in like a sack of potatoes and then we piled into the car and he hit the gas when it was only about ten feet away. The tires spun and we took off as the snorting bull chased us for a distance and then got tired and went back to its field.

My heart was thumping. We were all breathing hard, but I just had to laugh. That day we didn’t find any land for Sarah and Ben. I don’t know if they ever went back to him, or if that adventure made them more willing to settle down in Santa Anna de Piedades. It was just a little more crowded, yes. It was a town that was growing and was noisy like most of the towns and cities in the Central Valley, but at least they wouldn’t have to deal with driving up broken, choppy streets, or hobbling as fast as they could over grass, rocks, and stones to get away from charging bulls.