STORY: My Jeep Cherokee Saga

I THOUGHT I WAS SO SMART!

I was going to beat the system. Warning, this is not a short story. But, if you want to know why it took almost a year for us to finally receive our car in Costa Rica after shipping it, read on.

POT HOLES ARE THE RULE

Research on our relocation to Costa Rica began years before the actual move. We decided on Costa Rica as our retirement destination after vacationing here with friends about ten years ago. On several trips we would spend a week fishing with our group from Texas, then rent a car and just explore for a week. We got a good idea about what driving is like in this country...... not for the faint of heart.

Road conditions go from bad to worse. Potholes abound during the rainy season, particularly on the unpaved roads here. Residents talk about having to replace shocks and suspension systems regularly. Because most Ticos don't have much money, the government tries to get as much revenue from foreigners who move here. And, the best way to do that is in the form of a luxury tax on things they bring with them. It might be the last chance to seriously dip into their pockets.

Although you wouldn't think so while caught up in a traffic jam in San Jose, most Ticos don't own cars. Most citizens can't afford them, or the gas to run them. That's why there is a fabulous bus system that handles people's needs both in the city and in the countryside. But of course Gringos have to have a car!

IMPORT DUTY

The import duty on cars is hefty. As I remember, the duty on a relatively new car is about 60% of its current value, as determined by the "black book," although I remember it as the "blue book." Because they are trying to keep the country free of pollution, and are concerned about junk cars making the roads even more dangerous then they already are, older cars are taxed at a rate something like 80%. They really don't even want them here.

So, say you want to import your trusted 2007 Toyota SUV that you have loved since you purchased it, and you know it would be a good vehicle in Costa Rica to get you where you need to go. And, say its current used car value is about $15,000. Besides the shipping cost of about $1,000, you might have to pay as much as $10,000 to nationalize it. Say....what? Plus, you won't really know how much the tax is exactly until after it gets here. Your shipper will give you an estimate, but until it goes through the taxing officials, you won't have an exact price.

Then, if you think it would be better to just sell your Toyota in the states before you leave and purchase another used one here, you go down that slippery road of "buyer beware." Cars here generally look very good on the outside (body work labor is cheap). But, you have to remember that these cars have been used on these awful roads. They have most likely been shaken to death!

Tico mechanics are masters at figuring out how to keep a car running with a little duct tape and glue. Some parts for some cars are hard to find, so parts are substituted, and are often taken off other cars. Used cars here are also more expensive then what you would pay in the states because someone at some point also had to pay the import duty. The best bargains are from Gringos moving back to the states and dumping the car they purchased for whatever they can get –– usually at a loss. About half of the Gringos who move here, move back within a year. They didn't do their homework. But, I'll save that discussion for another post.

1990 JEEP CHEROKEE

This is the photo of the Jeep from Craig's List.

So, that's some of the background on why I did what I did to "beat the system." And, what exactly did I do? I found a 1990 Jeep Cherokee on Craig's list for sale in the Texas beach town of Port Aransas where we had our art gallery and bought it. My father had been in the car business and always said not to buy a car which had been used at the coast. It would most likely be full of rust, a product of the brutal salt air. But, he was no longer around to make that sensible suggestion, so I dove right in.

We were about a year-and-a-half out from reaching retirement age and collecting our Social Security,  thus qualifying for residency in Costa Rica. We owned a Dodge Durango and a Chevy Suburban. I read that GM cars were not a good idea in Costa Rica. They had a better trade deal with Asian manufacturers, and parts were easier to find for those. I knew that gas was also more expensive in Costa Rica, so the last thing we needed were our two "gas guzzlers" from Texas. Of course it turns out that my Jeep gets about the same mileage.

The Jeep was only $700, leaked oil and looked like hell. So, how good could a $700 car be? Not good at all. That's why it was only $700! But there was nothing that couldn't be fixed or replaced.

My plan was to buy a car that I knew would do well in Costa Rica and totally restore it –– even make it more heavy-duty than stock. I'd make it last forever, and the import duty and annual tax would be next to nothing. It wasn't a Japanese car like everyone recommended, but it was a Jeep, which there were plenty in Costa Rica. Jeeps were the exception to the rule. I see them everywhere. And, the Cherokee was one of those vehicles that Jeep enthusiasts rebuilt and used for "rock-climbing" events. I discovered that there was even a catalog of after-market stuff just for Cherokees.

JOHN'S TRANSMISSIONS

I had been driving by a mechanic's shop near where we lived in Aransas Pass called "John's Transmissions." I had been using a mechanic in Rockport, but he charged by the book, and I thought he would be too expensive to do all the things to the Jeep I needed. So, one day I stopped by to meet John and discuss my car.

John was a Viet Nam Vet from a small town outside of San Antonio. He and his two son's moved to Aransas Pass a few years earlier and set up shop. There was a need for a good transmission shop, but he could also do just about any other work needed, with the exception of body work. He was a rough character, but friendly. I told him that I wanted to have my car rebuilt over the course of a year, and I wanted him to do the work as I was able to pay –– a little at a time. He said bring it over and he'd take a look. I drove the car over to him –– leaking all kinds of fluids along the way. But it did drive!

He gave it a quick look, rolled his eyes and said, "It'll be $5,000 to rebuild the engine and transmission. I'll throw in the transfer case and differential if they need any work." I dropped off the car at his shop the next day and paid him half the cost. Then, over the course of a year, the Jeep became "good as new," so I thought.

Also during that year, I had John install a new, heavy-duty Rancho suspension with a three inch lift, and heavy-duty Rancho shocks as well. I also ordered a new set of black 10"wide wheels,  and 31" Goodyear off-road tires. That should take care of the potholes!

INSPECTIONS & UPGRADES

This is what my Jeep could look like one day, or maybe not.

Like I said, I did a lot of research. One document I found online was from the Costa Rican ministry that handles inspections. I went down the list, trying to make sure my car would pass inspection on its arrival. The only thing I found on their list about tires was that fenders needed to cover the tires completely. I inquired with two different shippers who were bidding on shipping our goods and car, about whether that meant the tread or the total width of the tire. I got an answer back that said the whole tire. The catalog had some 4 inch Bushwacker fender extensions that replaced the stock 2 inch ones, but my new tires stuck out more than that. When you put on the wider wheels, and then the wider tires, the front came out 7 inches past the body and the back 5 inches. I had to have a better plan.

I had met a friend who had a welding shop in Lamar. Jack mainly did boat trailer work. After a few conversations with him, he told me where I could buy some raw flat sheet metal in Corpus Christi. He used to work there and gave me the name of the foreman to talk to. I drove over there and told him what I needed. He said to come back the next day and he would have them for me. I ordered four, four-foot pieces of metal, 12 inches wide. Of course, he didn't have them ready the next day, so I waited in his little shop office for an hour while one of his welders cut them for me. I paid $20 for all four sheets.

Finally, I came home with the metal and started to make a pattern to follow. I cut pieces of cardboard, taping some here, cutting some there; and ended up with pretty good patterns that fit the car well. I had already removed the old, stock extensions. I used my SawsAll with a metal blade to cut some of the existing fender away so the tires would fit. Then, I taped my pattern to the metal, drew a line with a Sharpie, and started cutting with the SawsAll.

Once I had the metal cut, I beat and bent them until they matched the patter and fit the space. Then a trip to Jack's shop to have them welded and placed on the car. He was an old biker with a heart of gold. He knew I was short on cash, but wouldn't give me a price for the work, which was considerable. A friend of his came by and helped, and I helped also to get the new extensions attached to the fenders. Once the fenders were on and I was about to leave, I asked Jack what I owed him. He laughed and said, "Nothing! Good luck in Costa Rica!" Wow, he didn't have to do that, but I certainly appreciated it. Now, I had the tire-fender problem taken care of. Or, so I thought.

GETTING OUT OF DODGE

Soon we were on our way. We had rented a 26' Uhaul truck along with a car carrier for the Jeep. We loaded the Uhaul with all our belongings it would hold, hitched up the trailer and drove the Jeep on. With a canoe and extension ladder fastened on top of the Jeep, along with a metal basket on the back of the Jeep with a generator and lawn mower, we were off –– driving from Texas to Florida... eventually on our way to a new life in Costa Rica. We looked like "Ma and Pa Kettle" driving down the road, but we made it to our daughter's house in St. Petersburg, and delivered our household goods and car to the shipper nearby.

It was a bit sad to leave Texas, but my wife and I had been married for 39 years, raised a great family, and were ready for our lives to start over. Hopefully we can get another 20 or so years out of it together. At least that's the plan. We needed something to spice up our lives –– and we found it in Costa Rica.

After a week's visit with our kids in Florida, on December 1, 2010, we flew off to Costa Rica with the maximum eleven suitcases allowed on a flight, filled with everything we thought we needed until our container and car would arrive.

MECHANICO NUMERO UNO

Now it is February, 2011. Whoohoo, our Jeep arrives in Costa Rica!... However, our shipper, "Ship To Costa Rica," called to say that when his mechanic took our Jeep to the Costa Rican inspection service, called RETEVE (re tee ve) it didn't pass. There was a long list of issues. He said he wasn't in the business of fixing cars and he was having our car towed to our house at the beach in Esterillos Este on the Central Pacific Coast. It had been several weeks since we had arrived and a neighbor was letting us borrow his little Chevy pickup when we needed it.

The shipper said that beside a number of small things, it didn't pass the emissions test. Once we fixed the things on the list, we could send him the RETEVE papers and he would finish his part by getting our plates and tax sticker for the window. We had prepaid him for those items, so now we should have a few simple things fixed and have our car.

Well, then I found out that an older vehicle imported into Costa Rica has to pass the emissions standards of current model U.S. cars. Hmmmm, and why didn't I know this little bit of info before?

Oh yeah, AND oversize tires are not allowed,... AND those fenders stick out too far!

My original set of tires and wheels we left in Texas.

Okay, neither of the shippers I talked to from the States said anything about oversize tires. What people do is take their old regular size tires and switch them out for the inspection, then put the large ones back on. No one cares until the next year's inspection. IF I had known that, I wouldn't have given away my wheels and tires in Texas before I left! Okay, this is something I can get over. I heard that people just rent the tires off another car and no big deal. A mechanic (mechanico) would take care of that.

Now, what about those emissions. I didn't know crap about that. Texas has no emissions test, so no one has the equipment. Neither does Florida. I figured that a rebuilt engine would runs about as good as it could and should run clean. Nope, it doesn't work that way. But, I'll get to that.

MECHANICO NUMERO DOS

Richard, our next door neighbor recommended the mechanico, Luis Cruz, in the nearby town of Parrita to do the work. He always used Louis, but said he always had to remember to not leave too much gas in the tank when he took it to him, because for some reason his tank always came back on empty. That should have told me something, but it didn't. I was still in a daze over the beauty of the country I had just moved to. So, one day he and I towed the Jeep with a rope the 10 miles or so to Parrita and left it with Luis. Richard told him in broken Spanish what I needed. I left him the failed papers from RETEVE that had the list of things that needed fixing. He put the car on the emissions testing machine he had at his shop and sure enough, it didn't meet the standards. He said he would work on it and get it to pass. So, we left it in good hands...???

Cruz's Shop (Taller Cruz) on a back street of Parrita.

A week went by, then another week, then another. We drove by Luis' shop and he said he had fixed the headlights, put a safety latch it needed on the hood and he was about to tackle the emissions. So, we said okay and left.

Another week went by, then another. One Saturday we were eating lunch at "The Pig Farm" tucked in the Palm Oil Plantations south of Parrita, when Luis and his worker showed up to eat. We shared a beer with them and finally got around to asking about the Jeep. He shook his head and said that the Jeep didn't have a catalytic converter.

What? No cat? I know it had one. I had it up on the lift at a muffler shop in Texas where they welded shut a leak in front of the catalytic converter. Plus, I actually drove the Jeep while it was being towed and if someone had stolen it before it got to Louis, I would have heard the loud exhaust. If it didn't have one, it was stolen in front of Luis' shop! So, he needed $250 to pay for the new one because it was a large, 6-cylinder engine and had to have the large size. I guess he was just going to wait until he ran into me to ask for the money?

I got some cash from the ATM in Parrita that Monday and took it to Louis to buy the cat. Another week went by and then another.  Then, Linda and I saw Louis eating lunch at a little cafe (soda) on the way into Parrita. We said hello and I inquired about my Jeep. He fround and said some stuff we didn't understand. So, we shook hands and left. 

The next day Richard got a phone call from him that said the car was ready to pick up. WooHoo! We got in Richard's car right away and drove to Parrita. When we got there Luis said that he had done all he could do, but the car wouldn't pass RETEVE. He said the numbers were very bad and he didnt want to just start replacing parts. He just needed to be paid for the work he had done and we needed to take it to someone else who had the equipment to determine what was wrong. Counting the $250, I paid Louis about $600 and still had no RETEVE. Now I'm getting the idea that what these mechanics needed was a scanner to plug into the dash and get a reading as to what is wrong. I need a mechanic that has one.

MECHANICO NUMERO TRES

Once again I had the car at my house on the beach. Another friend recommended a mechanic she had been using in Jaco. Dieter was a Belgian-Canadian mechanic. He had a shop at his house that he shared with his girlfriend, Sylvia. Many nice cars were in front of his house, including a couple of high-end vehicles like a fancy, black Hummer.

Dieter only spoke French and Spanish, so Sylvia came out and translated. She seemed to be a Tico and her English was very good. She had a clipboard and took notes as we told of our problem. Dieter indicated that he could fix the problem. I asked if he had access to a scanner and he said he did. So, we drove off with the idea that we had finally found the right mechanic, plus he had someone who spoke English! Sylvia said she would call us when he was done.

So, a week went by, then another. We called and were told Sylvia wasn't there. We called again. Then, we drove by and talked with Dieter's mechanic, Javier, who actually did most of the work. He spoke a little English, but not good enough to figure out what was going on. He shook his head and said something about brakes. I said I had had the brakes overhauled in the States, so they should be fine. I asked where Sylvia was and he shook his head again and said she wasn't there. Neither was Dieter. So, we left with no information.

Another week went by. We called and nothing. We drove by again. Nothing. Another week, then another. Dieter was there one time, but we couldn't communicate very well. He indicated he was working on the problem.

Another week went by. We had our friend, Rob, call because he spoke good Spanish. He didn't get much of an answer either. No Sylvia. No Dieter. Another week went by. We drove by again, now really starting to worry. The Jeep sat with the rest of the cars. This time I had a heart-to-heart talk with Javier. He again shook his head and indicated that Sylvia was gone. He said that the Jeep had "mucho problemos" and that he was working on them.

Finally, Rob got through to Dieter on the phone. Dieter said the car was ready to take to RETEVE now, but that he was having a hard time finding tires and we might want to help locate some. So, one day we stopped by another mechanic's shop in Jaco, which was owned by a Gringo. I asked him if he knew of a source for renting the tires and he said he was working on a car now that would fit. He said to tell Dieter that he had them, and that the rent would be $35 when he was ready. I told him that I was having a hard time communicating with Dieter, and that we haven't seen Sylvia since the day we dropped off the car. He said Dieter spoke better English than she did, and that without Sylvia he would have a hard time running his business.

Then, our friend Richard called and said he saw our car heading down the highway towards Parrita. Our Jeep is fairly easy to spot. We were thinking that maybe he had found tires and was driving it to Parrita for the RETEVE inspection, seeing as Parrita was the closest RETEVE location. So, maybe this was a good sign.

Rob called again. Dieter said the Jeep was ready to pick up, and that his bill was $600. Rob asked if he had receipts for the parts and Dieter said he could break them down for us.

WhooHoo! So, we drove to the shop to pick up the car. Dieter came out to meet me. He had a slip of paper in his hand with some numbers written on it. He said my Jeep engine was very bad and he couldn't get it to pass RETEVE. He was giving it back to me, but wanted me to pay for the work he had done. But I said he didn't get it to pass and I wasn't going to pay him that much. The numbers on the paper indicated that he replaced some of the sensors and the hood latch. The hood latch that Louis put on was borrowed from another car, so he had taken it off. I asked him for receipts for parts and he said he didn't have any, and that what he had written down on this slip of paper was right.

After some back and forth, I agreed to pay Dieter $400 and told him I would get the car another day. I couldn't drive it on the roads because it had no plates or stickers. Now I had to find another mechanic.

MECHANICO NUMERO QUATRO

So, now Rob offered to help more. He was our last resort because he lived about an hour away near the town of Esparza. But, Rob spoke good Spanish and had a couple of mechanics in his area he has used over the past eight years he has lived in Costa Rica.

Rob called a tow truck guy he knew and the Jeep got picked up and towed to a new mechanico in Esparza named Miguel. Now we were at a distance from where the car was being worked on, so we had to rely a lot on Rob to get 'er done. I asked Rob to tell Miguel that we had already had the car with two other mechanics who didn't fix the problem, so "no fix –– no pay." Miguel assured Rob that he could do the work. He was a young, handsome fellow with a modern, clean shop. And he was a specialist in emissions. He was given all the receipts from the previous mechanics, including the failed RETEVE paperwork, which actually showed that the car had worse emission numbers after Dieter had worked on it and taken it in to pass.

So, a week went by. Then another. Then another. Miguel doesn't answer his phone while at work, so Rob had to drive to the shop to talk with him. Sometimes he was lucky enough to find Miguel at the shop, and he would say he was working on it. Another week, then another, then another.

We drove to Deb and Rob's house for a visit, stayed the night, and went to talk to Miguel the next morning. He was there, but said he was having problems finding the time to work on the Jeep. He pointed to other cars in the shop and said that he had four engines to rebuild. He said he thought the problem was in the wiring that connected a number of sensors to the onboard computer. He had to work on it at night and on the weekends because it took a lot of concentration and he was always interrupted during the work day. Okayyyyyy... We drove home.

Another week went by, then another, then another. Rob went by the shop, but car wasn't there. Miguel said he didn't have room for it so he took it to his house. Said he was trying to find the time to work on it. He was trying to get better numbers by changing out the injectors with injectors from a different make car. They would be smaller and might not put out as much bad emissions. Another week. Another week. Okay, this is getting crazy –– again!

Then, we made another trip for an overnight stay with Deb and Rob. We needed to do some grocery shopping in Esparza, so we drove into town and saw Rob's friend, Juan in the square. We had met Juan several times before. Juan is a Tico, but spent many years in California where he owned a shop that specialized in working on Mercedes. Juan didn't work on any other brand, but knew a lot about cars in general. He said he knew a guy that we could take it to and that he would help make sure I didn't get ripped off this time.

So, Rob called Miguel and told him enough was enough, and that we wanted to pick up the car in the morning. He understood and said he would put my old injectors back in and have it ready to pick up in the morning –– no charge. Several months had gone by since our car landed here. We were losing faith.

Juan called a friend who drove a tow truck from Tamarindo to San Jose on a regular basis and he would haul it over to Juan's mechanic in the morning. I gave Juan the $70 cash I had on hand to pay for the tow and get the new mechanic started. We didn't know where this was going, but had our fingers crossed that with Juan's help we would get it done. Meanwhile our car looked horrible. There were grease marks all over it and several new dents. The problem was that we didn't know which mechanic to blame.

MECHANICO NUMERO CINCO

Another week went by. Both Rob and I were talking with Juan now. Juan was doing this as a favor, so we didn't want to bug him much. Another week went by. Juan called and said his mechanic told him that my car would never pass the current inspection standards no matter what they did. He also told Juan that our Jeep was a piece of junk and I needed to buy another car. He didn't want to work on it.

Juan suggested that we might think about using his buddy mechanic in Puntarenas that might have a way to get the Jeep inspected regardless of emissions. Hmmm, I think I knew what that meant. We were desperate at this point, so we said, "Sure, whatever. Anything you can do would be great."

MECHANICO NUMERO SEIS

Now Juan gets the car towed to his buddy's shop. We just sit back and hope. Another week went by. Juan called and said his buddy discovered that the catalytic converter on my car was too small for the engine. We needed the large one. What? Which #@*'n mechanic stoled it? Or, did we ever even get the large one in the first place. I had a receipt for $250 from a muffler shop in Parrita given to me by Luis. Remember Luis? Did he even put a new one on? He had a Cherokee in his shop when mine was there. Did he put the new cat on that one instead? At this point I really didn't know, and not knowing Spanish kept me from a full investigation. By this time I was getting numb anyway. Just get me the damn paper! We need a car!

This is Juan's mechanic's shop. Never got his name. 

That's my Jeep in the doorway. This new mechanic (I never got his name) specializes in emission problems for RETEVE. Notice the light blue type on his sign. "Catalytic converters for rent!"

Okay, the car went through three mechanics after Luis, so it would be hard for me to blame any of them. I just had to go with the flow. Juan said the guy can rent us a catalytic converter for not much money. Rent? How does that work? Well,... the guy cuts your cat off, welds his on, gets the car inspected, and welds yours back on. "People here do this all the time," they said, "same for the tires." Even people with bald tires that won't pass, rent good tires and then put the bad ones back on.

So, we get the call that the car was ready and passed RETEVE –– legally! –– at least we think! We drove up to Deb and Rob's house to pick up the car. Everyone said we didn't need to pay for the tow again, we just needed to drive the car either early in the morning before the traffic police are out; or at night when they are gone. They only work during the day, but they have little road blocks here and there to check on papers.

We decided to pick up the car early in the morning, so we woke up at dawn and drove down to the mechanic's shop to pick up the car. Of course he wasn't there yet. He doesn't get there until about nine. So we waited. It was on a highway of sorts and cars were whizzing by. Finally he gets there and one of his guys backs the Jeep out of the garage and into the street, where he parks it close to the curb. Cars are whizzing by very close to the car and us.

We say our thank you's and I get in the car to drive it. It doesn't start. They had just started it minutes before! But, nooooooo. Its not gonna start for me now. Everyone is standing there saying goodbye, which soon turned into WTF? So, several guys come over. One lifts the hood and fiddles. Now more people, including Juan. They do a lot of cranking the engine over and over and over. More fiddling. More cranking. Then the little tools comes out that checks for voltage going from place to place in the wiring. Nope, the injectors are not getting the signal from the sensor to open and let gas go into the engine. No one knows why, but tomorrow they will work on it some more. We pushed the car back in the garage and left, driving back to our house in our borrowed car once again...... without the Jeep.

Now the troops are starting to get discouraged. I'm hearing all kinds of, "sell the damn thing," and "Its just not the right car for here," and "I bet if you had known what you know now, you wouldn't have brought that thing here." Sell it, I've got about $12K invested in it thus far and I could only sell it for about $3K. I never meant to ever sell it!

I'm a patient man in general. Sometimes too patient. And I do get discouraged, but in my life things have always gotten better...... somehow. I wasn't sure just how this particular setback was going to get better, but I had faith in our little Jeep. It could pull out of this! If it just had a little more fixed. Hell, most everything has been replaced, and it now has its RETEVE paper! We just have to give that paper to our shipper in San Jose, then in about a week we could pick up our new plates (pla-que) and tax sticker (called a Marchamo). All I had to do was believe.

The next day we got the call. The next day! The mechanic got the part quickly. It was one of the sensors and the wires were touching the exhaust pipe and shorted out. He just replaced it and... Whala!... and another Whoohooo!

So we drove back to Puntarenas, got Rob to follow us, then picked up the Jeep and drove it to Deb and Rob's house. I followed Rob and didn't see any police stops, but I was nervous. The Jeep ran great for about half the distance to his house. I felt a little sputter of the throttle. A little hesitation. Then a few more miles and I felt a bigger hesitation. We reached Rob's gate off the highway and turned in heading down the dirt road. It was really giving out now. It felt like it was starving for gas. We had given them money for gas, but who knows how much they put in. I couldn't tell by the gauge.

Rob's road has a lot of ups and downs and pot holes. Pumping the gas and going as fast as I could, I made it to the top of the hill and it died right in front of his driveway gate, actually blocking his drive and the dirt road. I told Rob that maybe it was out of gas. It certainly felt that way. We pushed the Jeep a little out of the way, walked to the house, got the gas can and drove into Esparza to buy gas. It was pitch black night by now.

We got back, put in the gas and tried to start the car. It didn't. It wasn't out of gas. I said maybe we should try to tow it with my borrowed car. Rob said he thought we could push it on into his driveway. So we did, but not without back aches afterwards. So with a final tow of a hundred feet to get the Jeep parked out of the way, we were back to square one..... again. We pushed the car right up to the edge of the cliff outside their carport. Their house is perched on a steep hill high above the Port of Caldera. Rob and I looked at each other and smiled. One more good push and the thing would be out of our hair for good. It would take years for anyone to notice the car at the bottom of the cliff. It was a thought.

But, this episode was over. We spent the night and drove home the next day. We lost count of how many mechanics had worked on it. The Jeep was now sitting dead at Rob's house. This same car ran fine for six month in the States before we shipped it! Juan was going to come look at it, but was ill. Rob called about a week later and said he knew another mechanic in Esparza that did light mechanic work for him, maybe he could figure out what the last mechanic did wrong.

Well, we were really numb by now. We didn't care what anybody did to it anymore! Just do something! Please! Anybody?

MECHANICO NUMERO SIETE

A few days later, Rob drove the Jeep to the mechanic in Esparza. He worked behind his house. There was no sign, but when the wooden gate next to his house was open, you could see cars back there. Ho hum... Yawn... been there, done that. Sure this new guy is gonna fix the Jeep. We got a call the next day. The Jeep was ready to pick up and running fine. Uh huh... "Okay honey, they say its ready! Lets make the hour drive all the way to Esparza once again to pick up the Jeep!"

We got to Deb and Rob's house and I got in Rob's car for our trip to Esparza, about ten minutes down the road. We pulled up to the mechanic's house and the Jeep was sitting out front. We paid the mechanic and got in our respective cars and drove off. I returned to Deb and Rob's triumphant! Now, will the damn thing get us back home? It did.

On the way back we stopped at the post office in Jaco and overnighted the RETEVE paper to our shipper. Yes, you can get overnight service in Costa Rica, but only if they know the place it is going. Like a business, or maybe if you were well known in town. Otherwise there is no home postal delivery –– no postal addresses or zip codes. Our shipper's office is in an airport terminal, so the address was good.

Chino's shop near Jaco.

MECHANICO NUMERO OCHO

As of this writing, we are still driving our car, except I am having some small items fixed. The bright lights were shorting out the other night, so I've had that fixed by Chino –– Mechanic Number Ocho! Actually, there was Ernie, "mechanic number nueve," but he worked for Chino, so I can't count him. But, to solve the problem with the lights he had me drive him to his house near Los Suenos where he had an assortment of fuses we needed. Here's a photo I took of my car in the front yard of Ernie's house.

Ernie's house.

Chino so far has treated me well. Good work for not much money. But the other day we got a call from a Gringa friend in Jaco telling us to get our car out of his shop. That he totally ripped her off by putting a stolen engine in her car and stealing parts. Hmmm. What I don't know is if her new mechanic lied to her to get her to stop using Chino. Who knows???? My new plan is to sit all day if I have to while my car is being worked on. I will be watching their every move.

The Jeep as it sits in my driveway today.

DIAL "M" FOR MURDER!

There is something about mechanicos in Costa Rica. I had one Gringo mechanic tell me that he went to their technical school to give a talk and found out they not only teach them auto mechanics, they also teach them ways to create more work for themselves by doing something bad to the car. Its all built into the culture. We're having to get used to that.

But wait! I had problems with lots of mechanics in the States. And, I heard on the U.S. news the other morning about a study on how much people get ripped off in the states. A qualified mechanic checked out a reporter's car and put in a faulty little part on the air conditioning. It was a $20 part and easy to diagnose and replace. The dealers were the worst with quotes up to $2,500. The independent muffler chains didn't do so well either. Only one shop told her that she could just go down to an auto parts store and buy this little thing and put in on herself. It just plugs in under the hood. I would guess that this is a problem world-wide, but they've got it down well here for sure –– especially if you are a Gringo who can't speak Spanish worth a darn.

Oh,... remember Dieter –– Mechanico Numero Tres? He's in jail for murder. I won't go into the details, but it had something to do with a love triangle. Funny, he was the most professional looking one in the bunch.