You Have to Live Where They Grow the Food!

This was one of the first things Larry said to me, coffee-stained teeth showing, eyes a little wide. Larry had disheveled white hair, white beard, and work clothes that were worn and faded from the Costa-Rican sun – but well-cared for. I thought he was a bit crazy, at the time. Of course you need to live next to food – my twenty-something mind thought – why would you live where there was no food?

“When the economy goes bad, they will no longer ship food to many places… you need to live where you can grow your own food!”

This was a decade ago. I spent three months in Costa Rica surfing – a little bit of adventure before starting a graduate program.

Larry lived with his Tica wife, Lupe. Lupe and Marisol (sisters), ran a little posada in the village of Domincal on the Pacific coast. Larry looked like he could be in his early sixties – he was literally getting long in the tooth – but he was fit and wiry. I occasionally spoke with Larry, he seemed to spend his time gardening, repairing the posada, and working on various projects. I thought he had that slightly-crazed ex-pat vibe, but he didn’t share the beer-gut and perma-sunburn that most older gringo-men seemed to carry around.

Domincal – and this posada – became my Pacific-coast home-base for a good chunk of that summer. The surf was, at times, heaving beachbreak barrels. Domincal is known as the Puerto Escondido of Costa Rica. A restaurant/bar there has scores of broken boards on the ceiling. If a wave snaps your board in half, you can trade it to the restaurant for a free dinner – and add to their decor.

Consistent surf, a friendly place to stay (Marisol spent quite a bit of time teaching me Spanish, and seemed to look after me – I felt welcome like family), and good food kept me coming back that summer.

There were quite a few expats living there – many there to surf, some because they could grow thier own food, and others seemed like they had nothing better to do except drink cheap beer and smoke dope in the jungle. In other words – paradise. There was even an authentic Italian restaurant run by two young Italian couples. Eating real pizza in the tropical jungle after surfing is something I will never forget.

A decade later, I find myself thinking Larry’s catchphrase quite often – “You need to live where they grow the food!”

They do grow food here locally (and dope – dope is the largest contributor to the economy in far-northern coastal California). I’ve thought quite a bit about settling here and buying land (land that I could grow food on).

Now that the credit-card debt has been paid off, my life has been downsized, I have a new job and started saving money like a madman – I think about my options. I’m ready to hit the road and see the world – but shouldn’t I buy a piece of land that I can grow food on? The economy looks a bit bleak – and the fact that I have a good job seems more valuable than it did a year ago.

My original timeline was one year from Feb 1, 2008 before leaving on my trip. I calculated the cost of the trip, and realized that I wouldn’t be ready until working and saving until the summer of 2010. My new job is better (how could it get worse than this?) – but it is still a burnout job. I’m in a good position to save – so how long should I do this?

I originally posted a flowchart of my employment options. After surviving the second half of 2008 (I wasn’t writing on this blog because life got a little strange) – I’m more determined than ever to get out. After thinking about it for a year – my escape fantasies look like this:

1. Sell the truck, leave the dog with family and travel around latin america and/or world for 1-2 years. Estimated departure: Jan 2010 (nine months from now).
2. Drive with dog in latin america for a year. Estimated departure: July 2010 (one year and three months).
3. Stay at the job long enough to get vested in the pension program – two years and three months. Use the accumulated savings to buy property either here or somewhere cheap and surfy with good soil. Estimated departure: July 2011.

Now, I know I’m ripping you off a bit, because this project was not named “The 2+ Years of Living Frugally”. For that, I’ll refund your cost of admission to this page.

Somewhere, in the back recesses of the human-brain, is that grandmother-given idea – the Protestant work-ethic). Although I’m not Protestant (and I’ve been accused of not having a work ethic by some…), my grandmother used to tell me stories about living through the Great Depression. She taught me how to surf-fish, and how to can food, and garden – how to rely on myself. I can hear her stories – and how they survived – by taking care of themselves and living simply. She essentially gave me instructions on how to survive an economic depression – and for now I’m trying to follow those rules.

I’m not ready to leave today – I do need to save more money – so we get to see how this economic crisis will play out.

In the meantime, I get the feeling that today’s dollars are more valuable than yesterday’s (bubble economy) and tomorrow’s (likely high inflation). Maybe buying a piece of land would be the best thing to ensure the type of life I want to live. (”You need to live where they grow the food!“)

I haven’t forgotten this project. I’ll post a year-end wrap-up of how I have done soon. I’m still breaking off the writing-rust.