Settling In (Pt. 2): So Many Curveballs

Power outages, embassy confusion, and Pookie's first challenge.

Oct 24, 2025

Most of Pookie’s routine involves hanging out in the balcony waiting to bark at something

Staying curious sounds poetic, but in Costa Rica, it’s also code for we’re about to be tested again. Power outages. Embassy headaches. A drugged-up Pookie on the way to the vet. Every day is a new experiment in patience and perspective.

But we are also slowly settling in. Finding our rhythm. Getting comfortable with our new lives.

We are becoming walkers and explorers.
We are getting accustomed to the great weather — minus the daily rain.
We are helping Pookie adapt to his surroundings.

That’s just how life is. Even though we are doing new and exciting things, you eventually start to settle down and build a routine.

And just when we think we’ve adjusted, life tosses us another curveball.

Those curveballs started coming almost immediately. Our garage and keycard issues weren’t the only hiccups that first month. June also came with a string of small power outages.

For a week or two, we’d wake up without power or lose it randomly during the day. Luckily, the outages were short, usually just a few hours, but they still threw us off.

Anita went upstairs to the coworking space which still had power.
I sat close to the window and used the mercado’s wifi from across the street.
At one point we both went over to the sister tower and worked in their coworking space.

Our conversations went a little something like this:

“Is it out again?” Anita asks from bed.
“What do you think?” I say laughing.
“Of course,” she laughs back.

It was a crash course in flexibility. It’s also something you’ll never find in any travel or self-help book.

You might be wondering how Pookie has been adjusting to his new home. On the surface, his life has been great.

He gets to spend all day with us now that we work from home full-time.
He gets to run around all the dog parks to his heart’s content and he’s made many new friends.
He gets to explore the city and a fair share of sights and sounds.

But not everything has been sunshine and rainbows. In many ways, Pookie’s story mirrors ours — full of obstacles and finding his way through them.

When we first arrived, we thought we were finally done with our residency paperwork. We’d already jumped through so many hoops back in the U.S., from birth certificates, to FBI checks, to banking info, you name it.

Boy, were we wrong.

Turns out, we were only halfway there. We still had to register at the embassy, bounce between banks, and get our fingerprints and photos submitted.

Thankfully, we had Lorena by our side. Without her, we’d be up the river without a paddle and probably still floating there.

One of the most important, and confusing, tasks was registering with the embassy, and we had the hardest time figuring out what they needed from us. So, in true “let’s just figure it out” fashion, we decided to go there directly and talk to someone.

At the US embassy in San Jose, we discovered there’s no onsite parking, a fortress-like gate, and only one way in: the call button.

“Buenos dias, how can I help you?” the woman asks.
“We need to register,” I say, still unsure what’s required.
“Set up an appointment online,” she tells me.
“Thanks,” I say dejectedly.

Another roadblock — seemingly endless.

I pull up the embassy website to sign up for an appointment. After navigating a maze of options I finally find it.

“The next available appointment isn’t until July, and there are only two openings all month,” I say to Anita.
“Well book the next one,” she says matter of factly.
“That’s a month away. I wish they had something earlier,” I complain.
“There’s nothing we can do about it. Things will work out,” she says, full of wisdom.

We’d have to wait until July. Defeated, we walk across the street for lunch.

There we find a tiny restaurant full of people. We grab some lunch specials and devour them — not a single grain of rice left on the plate. It’s still our favorite spot when we’re in the area.

It’s just another reminder that living here means endless surprises and sometimes stumbling into small joys along the way.

Bonus tip for finding amazing food anywhere you go: follow your nose and look for a mom and pop spot full of people. That’s how we’ve found many of our favorite restaurants here.

Our outfits for the Bad Bunny concert in Puerto Rico

It’s Sunday night.

We spent the whole afternoon in Chinatown.
We found the perfect outfits for the Bad Bunny concert in Puerto Rico.
The whole day has been great.

At least for us. For Pookie, not so much.

Pookie has been licking his paws like a puppy possessed. This happens occasionally, especially when his summer allergies flare up. So we grab his inflatable doughnut, which acts like a cone, and place it over his head.

A few minutes later we are greeted with a sound no one wants to hear. BLECH. Pookie has just thrown up.

“Honey, Pookie threw up!” I yell at Anita from the bedroom. “Grab stuff to clean up.”

We noticed a few bites around his eyes earlier in the day but thought nothing of it. But now it’s time to investigate further.

I lift his shirt up.
He has rashes EVERYWHERE.

Anita comes back with paper towels and disinfectant spray to clean up. I start frantically looking up how to deal with his rashes. The best solution in this scenario was giving him an oatmeal bath.

After cleaning up, Anita gets to work in the kitchen while I hold Pookie to prevent further licking.

Our kitchen goes from tranquil to madhouse in seconds.

The sink’s water is ice-cold, so we heat a half-sink’s worth with two pots and a giant measuring cup. Meanwhile, Anita blends oatmeal in the food processor.

When the water finally heats up, we pour it until the sink bath is warm.
Anita scoops in the oatmeal.
I ease Pookie inside.

The sink isn’t tall enough to soak his whole body, so we pour cups of warm water over him for ten minutes.

After Pookie’s soak is done, I sift out all the ground up oatmeal from the sink while Anita dries him off. Pookie is not a fan of baths, so he’s just happy to be done.

The oatmeal bath helped for now, but a vet visit was inevitable and would have to wait until tomorrow.

When the whole ordeal is over it’s 2am. We’re ready to sleep, and Pookie is too. So we give him a piece of ham with his calming pill wrapped inside. Pookie drifts off, and at last, so do we.

It felt like chaos then, but looking back, every chaotic moment helps us find our rhythm — and somehow, it starts to feel normal.

Power outages, embassy confusion, even 2am oatmeal baths are all reminders we’re still learning. But somewhere between all the chaos, Costa Rica starts to feel less like a test and more like home.

Of course, there’s more to these stories: our official embassy visit, Pookie’s vet visits, and a punch card’s worth of bank visits test us all over again.