Having retired and living the good life in Costa Rica, where I am surrounded by verdant mountains, populated by colorful birds and even more colorful butterflies, it is, surely, the good life.
But my idyllic life was thoughtlessly interrupted by a frightful noise and an invasion by a prehistoric creature. It must be said that the weather here is almost perfect. There is no need for heating or air conditioning. To me this is the meaning of perfection. Down here 9 degrees off the equator but at high altitude, homes leave doors and windows wide open here day and night. My home has a front door which is left open during the day for ventilation but is still secure due to a locked impenetrable outer metal door composed of metal bars welded together. There is just enough space for our cat to head out to do her business or to gaze lovingly at various birds that happen by our garden of Eden.
There I was, enjoying an afternoon cup of delicious high altitude coffee, seated in my favorite chair when a sudden racket took my focus away from my reading material. I focused on the unusual disturbance. The sounds were like that of a small army of tap-dancing midgets running at break neck speed across my living room line of sight, moving rapidly and noisily from the open front door. My cat and I were stunned. We were not frightened by this 6-foot long iguana that had decided to escape some menacing enemy by seeking refuse in our modest home.
The creature raced across the length of the living room, entered the kitchen where a back door, which gives us a great view of a volcano in distant Panama, this door would have been a great exit for this uninvited guest but at the least instant it turned hard right as my wife was shrieking and sought solace in a small storage room next to the kitchen away from the inviting open door leading to the outside and freedom.
It was at this point that my wife showed her true colors. Here in Costa Rica the women are the more dominant of the sexes, long known for their beauty, they hold important positions in commerce and government and comprise the majority of the country’s doctors and lawyers. After my wife made a quick call to the bomberos (fire dept. where they were watching a soccer match) she took control of the situation. I was helpless, as always, and wanted to protect the cat from the harm of this monster. I found out later that iguanas are vegetarians. With my cat in my arms she ordered me into a nearby bedroom. I was happy to comply.
She then donned a pair of rugged garden gloves and went after the monster that was situated under a storage shelf. We could not even see him/her/it, but we knew it was lurking ready to do bodily harm and property damage. I was having none of it.
Living in Costa Rica is greatly enhanced by having someone to help us, extranjeros (foreigners) please don’t call us gringos, with the language. The native people are very helpful but if they hear a simple question in espanol, they assume the questioner is fluent. Many times, I will ask someone a very simple question like, “Is the bus station on this street?” and will not get a yes or a no in response which I can understand, but several paragraphs of a foreign language that to this gringo is beyond understanding. Luckily, I married a native who speaks fluently, is truly beautiful both inside and out, but who will engage in long conversations with anyone about anything. Conversation is the culture in this friendly and beautiful country. My wife has earned her badge of courage many times over and today she received a commendation.
The menacing iguana was evicted without a word of distress or a call of help from my lovely wife. The beast was now outside within 15 feet of its natural habitat, a large tree, but was surrounded by our three dogs who were menacing the intruder and thinking thoughts of havoc. I had to get the beast out of harm’s way and armed with a broomstick I sent the dogs scurrying, but the wild animal did not choose to seek respite in the branches of the afore-mentioned tree. It instead flourished its tail in a menacing manner toward me, the rescuer, actually connecting with one attempt across my forearm but it did not draw blood. I was still in the fight. At this point my wife handed me a shovel that was greatly superior to the broomstick I was using. Not only brave and beautiful but wise, as well. Soon the monster was safely in our tree and my wound was cleaned by my loving, miraculous, brave and beautiful wife. But what she then said served as a severe warning. She said that the next time this occurred she would take the garden gloves off and use deadly force. I was hoping she was referring to the iguana and not me.
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