At some point during the torrential rains of the last three days, the entire settlement of South Guiones was swept into the ocean. Exactly when this happened remains uncertain, as no one actually noticed it until today, when Gobi did not show up at Tuesday market with her gluten-free tortillas, pastas, and breads – plunging much of Guiones into nightmarish 48 hours of gluten vulnerability and extra trips to Organico.
But in a miraculous stroke of luck, no one from South Guiones was lost in this tragic event. As it turns out, Gobi was at a 3-day rave in San Jose. All the other residents of South Guiones had been paid 40 thousand colones each to be bused up to Garza in Terratour vans – where they cast 32 crucial votes for GondyBondyDingDong before continuing onwards for an excellent meal at the Black Marlin. And, as fate would have it, it was this meal at the Black Marlin – and a few turns on the Black Marlin dance floor – that saved 32 lives. By the time the last Imperial was emptied, the road back to South Guiones was completely flooded, preventing their return.
At Nosara Lately, we wish what came next was a heartwarming story of people returning to rebuild their lives. But this is not what came next. A little-known colonial-era Costa Rican law from 1892 states that “in the situation of entire villages being taken by natural disaster, the resulting empty land shall be turned over in whole to qualified local realtors, and previous tenants shall be relocated to the nearest oddly-named residential area.”
In shock at what we were reading, we swung by the offices of Andres Gonzales, legendary Nosara barrister and cognac aficionado. He nodded and said, “The law is clear. South Guiones will be turned over to the seven largest real estate firms in Guiones, and the entire population of South Guiones will be resettled in the 506 Tennis Club.”
Andres went on to say that he had spoken to several families from South Guiones, and while anger and helplessness were running high, there was also a palpable sense of relief that the ‘oddly named’ clause did not result in them being relocated to Become Nosara.
With emotions running raw, and no tennis lessons or internet connections yet arranged for the displaced families, local real estate agents did not want to express themselves publicly. Privately, however, many confided in us that they see a ‘new day’ dawning for Nosara property sales. As one agent put it, in a headspinning mix of Ayn Rand and Lao Tzu, “Every market needs an engine. And a rising tide lifts all boats.”
Another said, “It’s a game-changer for us. It’s just what we needed to turn this market around.” She paused, then added quietly, “As long as they don’t name that fucking Gondola ‘GondyBondyDingDong’. Bongola, I can work with. Plenty of Colorado money coming in.”
As night fell, the lights on the courts came on in 506. The dogs of South Guiones cautiously approached, and carefully sniffed the dogs of 506. A black helicopter carrying lawyers from Sfera Legal lifted off from the helipad atop Surfing Nosara. Donald Loria began to sketch the palm trees of South Guiones, leaving just enough room for an infinity pool in the foreground. Small children in Garza being tucked into bed looked up at their mothers with wide, hopeful eyes, and asked, “Mommy? Where will GondyBondyDingDong sleep at night?”
And we at Nosara Lately sat back, watching it all.
