We were celebrating a friend's birthday in a rented log cabin on the banks of Lake Tarnita when I met Steve (not his real name). Steve was well dressed, in dark coloured slacks and a white button up shirt with cufflinks. It's only worthy of mention because I found it overly formal for a cabin get-together where the principal activities were eating, drinking, and karaoke, but to each his own. He'd kept to himself most of the evening, but then he came by the kitchen-counter/bar where I'd gotten comfortable with a bottle of Ballantine's and we got to talking, initially about travel. "If I could live anywhere in the world I'd move to Costa Rica." Steve said. "Why there?" "Nice, peaceful country. The weather's perfect. And it's far away from here." "And you'd leave Romania for good?" I asked. "Oh yeah, this country is done for." "How about the future?" I asked, just to be philosophical. ...