We're Not in Kansas

When I was a kid, every fall we would watch “The Wizard of Oz.” This was back in the day when we only had a handful of TV stations and they were all black and white. Watching the adventures of Dorothy and her tiny pooch, Toto, in the Land of Oz was an annual ritual. It was a fall tradition that our family looked forward to.

One line uttered by Dorothy is etched into my soul. She looks around at the fascinating new world of Oz and says, “Well, Toto, I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

Pam and I have repeated that phrase countless times in our various migrations-for-Jesus around the globe. Recently, I repeated it again as I have been attempting to get my Costa Rican Driver’s License.

The adventure began several weeks ago when I finally completed my “residencia.” (How I got my “residencia” is a saga I’ll save for another day.) Long story short, I am now a legal resident in Costa Rica and no longer officially considered a “tourist.” Because of the cost, we did not process the “residencia” paperwork for Pam. I guess that means I’m married to a professional tourist.

With my new Costa Rican ID in hand, I naively thought that getting my Driver’s License would be a snap. I guess I forgot that “we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

A few weeks ago, I drove down to the Costa Rican DMV. The roads are tricky, so we often use WAZE to navigate. WAZE is a handy GPS app that rarely fails. True to form, WAZE took me right to the DMV.

The only problem is it doesn’t look like a DMV. It looks more like the UPS shipping terminal in Sparks, Nevada. So, I drove right past it looking for a building that looked like a DMV.

I was quickly corrected by WAZE and turned around and drove back more slowly. That’s when I saw it. A well-camouflaged smallish sign that said COSEVI, the Costa Rican equivalent of DMV. Ah, I now know where it is.

Next adventure, finding parking. You must be smiling. No, there is no parking lot at the DMV. What a silly thing to expect. “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

I drove down several blocks until I found a side street that had a parking space. I grabbed my things and headed back to the DMV. It opens at 7:00 AM. Despite my stumbling to locate the facility, I still arrived 5 minutes before it opened. There were about 15 people in line ahead of me. “What a blessing,” I thought. “I might actually get my license today!”  Wasn’t it PT Barnum that said, “There’s a sucker born every minute.”

Once I reached the front of the line, the guard asked what I was there for. I’m thinking to myself, “Well, I’m at the DMV, I’m not here to get a tooth pulled. What do you think, sir?” No, I didn’t say that. I may have thought it, but I didn’t say it. I was polite. After all, I am an ambassador for Jesus. (Sometimes I have to remind myself that several times a day.)

Once I explained my purpose, the guard directed me to an office at the very back of the facility. Remember I said that it looked like the UPS terminal in Sparks? Well, the office I was sent to was literally about a half-mile away. As I walked and walked and walked, I thought to myself, “Gee-wiz, I’m not here to train for a marathon, I’m here to get my Driver’s License!” After about 15 minutes walking, I finally found THE office.

Once I arrived, I was met by another guard. Sometimes I think they have guards that guard the guards in Costa Rica. They are ubiquitous, (that means that guards are literally everywhere.) This guard also asked me what I was there for. I started to point to a tooth, and then resisted and explained my plight. I was at the DMV, oddly enough, to get my driver’s license. Is that not what happens here, I asked?

Now, not to be boastful, but I speak and understand Spanish fairly decently. It’s rare these days when I’m left in the dust by someone speaking Spanish. I can track with almost everyone.

Well, except the guard at the door of the office that issues driver’s licenses. He spoke. Rapidly. I smiled. He spoke more. I smiled more. Then, he handed me a paper detailing more than a dozen steps I needed to take to get my license. At that point, I was quite certain I would not be getting my license that day. “Toto, I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

I slowly walked the half-mile back to the front gate. What was I do to? Now, this might sound strange, but the biggest obstacle was that I needed an appointment. Ah, silly me, you think. Come on, Steve, how hard is it to get an appointment at the DMV? Glad you asked. Let me explain.

The type of appointment I need is only made online AFTER the 25th day of every month. And I must be in Costa Rica for 91 days in a row (without exiting) BEFORE I can have the appointment.

AND I was told clearly (I understood this part) there are thousands of people trying to get an appointment. So, when the schedule opens up on the 25th day of the month, I will have about 5 milliseconds to get an appointment. If I miss, I have to wait until the next month and try again. Did I already say it? “Toto, I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

Once I got back to front gate (now well-prepared for an upcoming marathon), I had a brain flash. I’m not in the USA! I’m in Costa Rica! Maybe there is a “back-door” to make an appointment?

So, I asked the guard. He smiled and said, “Well, come to think of it, there is a guy who stands out front every day who sells appointment slots.” Of course, I thought to myself. A cottage industry! Brilliant!

Once “the appointment salesman” arrived, I was told the cost for an appointment was $75. Ouch! Someone is making a killing! But a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. I need an appointment and he can get me one. Done! Sold! What did PT Barum say?

But there’s one more caveat. I have to be in Costa Rica for 91 days straight before I can apply for the license. I qualify today. I’ve been in-country for more than 91 days straight. But I’m traveling to the USA next weekend for my nephew’s wedding. That knocks me out of line. Once I return to Costa Rica, I have to wait until early December before I pass the 91-day test again.

As a result, the saga continues. As it stands, my “appointment salesman” is going to make my appointment for the first week of December…for a fee, of course. At that point, I’ll make the long walk across the DMV again, and hopefully, will finally be able to get my Costa Rican Driver’s License. “Toto, I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore.”