The seller of the Goce property needed a response from me by Monday. I knew I wanted it. That was the easy part. I didn't need the weekend to make up my mind. The 9,800 Euro down payment was the issue, and one I needed to address with Zvonka on Monday morning.
Running Man (RM) and I spent Saturday on a beach in Croatia with his brother, sister-in-law and nephews. It was the first time I had been in Croatia and another stamp in my passport. The beach was in Moscenicka Draga, on the Adriatic Sea near the port of Rijeka. I experienced for the first time changing out of my shorts and shirt and into my bathing suit in a tiny three-wall canvas changing room on the beach. To call it a "room" is misleading. It was about two feet by two feet. I just hoped I didn't knock the structure over in the attempt. But had I suffered such misfortune, it would have gone virtually unnoticed. Europeans are far less modest than Americans at the beach. I saw many men and women changing in and out of swimsuits while gripping a beach towel around them. I also saw a few topless sunbathers, mostly women whose breasts had lost their pertness long ago. It's not for me but it's a free country. Well, I think it is anyway.
It was a sunny, hot day, perfect for lounging on a reclining chair near the water. The chairs and umbrellas were lined up and down the beach. Some people sunned themselves on towels laid upon the beach which would have been terribly uncomfortable. The beaches there aren't sandy. They're nothing but stretches of large white, ivory and pale yellow stones. Thank goodness for that pair of Keen sandals I had bought on sale before leaving the States. Good for hiking and wearing in the water. Not so good for my tan lines, but that's okay.
The beach was packed with people of all ages, shapes and sizes. What a phenomenal place to people-watch. I'm not sure I ever saw or heard more than a dozen Croatians that day. As RM had foretold, the beach was filled with Italians. They came for the same reason they spend so much time in Slovenia; it costs less to do everything in Croatia and Slovenia than it does in Italy. I chuckled from time to time listening to the conversations going on around me. Not at what they were saying but how they were speaking -- loudly and with that duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-duh rhythm I thought was merely a stereotype. And while speaking, there were hands flying all over the beach, moving this way and that way, up and down and around. That stereotype is also deserved. It was fun to be among all of it.
We enjoyed an interesting lunch at one of the cafes on the water. Personally, I'm not a fan of fish with heads still attached or scampi (small lobsters) that are still alive when you eat them. I prefer my seafood dead and unable to stare back at me from my plate. But as a traveler, I have to be a little adventurous, and I'm very good about at least sampling things I've never had before. I braved the fish but skipped anything with flailing pinchers. I can enjoy such things vicariously and not feel like I'm missing out.
All of the activity around me helped keep my mind off the fact that I needed to come up with nearly $13,000 for the down payment on my dream property. Lottery winnings, perhaps? Doubtful. I would have to play to win. I had several things I could sell, including my rare and classic 1983 Mercedes 500SL convertible. I loved that car but it wasn't a diesel so shipping it back to Europe, from where it had been shipped to the States so many years ago, didn't make sense. I should be able to sell it for around $5,000. I had jewelry I might be able to get $1,500 for, and $20,000 worth of unfinished kitchen cabinets (long story) I should be able to sell for at least $2,500. Not only was it highly unlikely that I would be able to sell all of that immediately to raise some cash, but it still left me several thousand short.
Someday, I plan to return to this beach without such a burden on my mind so I can enjoy it even more. But I did find out as we left that it's a lot easier to change clothes in the beachfront hotel bathroom stall than on the beach. Live and learn.
RM and I were in Zvonka's office first thing Monday morning. I wanted the house. Now what?
Zvonka said we needed to meet with the seller in the morning to sign the contract. I asked, through RM, if I needed to have the down payment in hand. Zvonka told me that I could work that out with the seller tomorrow. He might give me a month or so to come up with it, or just have me pay everything when the sale closed. He and I could reach an agreement on the date.
"Wouldn't that be great?" I said to RM. "I could have time to get all of the financing together." It sounded too good to be true. Again.
I had to ask Zvonka what happened if one of us couldn't keep up our end of the contract. I had to be concerned about the consequences if I was unable to come up with the 101,000 Euros. Moreover, I was worried what would happen if the seller figured out he could sell the property for a lot more than what I was paying for it. According to Zvonka, in Slovenia, if the buyer fails to come up with the money by closing, she loses her down payment. But if the buyer reneges, he has to pay the buyer two times the down payment. Apparently, the government put that law into play because a lot of sellers were reneging and giving the country a bad name in global real estate.
I had to decide if it was worth losing $13,000 to take a chance on buying the Goce property. I had another night to sleep on it, but knew I was willing to risk it. Then, I did the math from the seller's perspective. Unfortunately, the double-the-down-payment penalty wouldn't be much of a disincentive for him. If he could sell the property for 150,000 Euros, he could pay me 9,800 Euros and still make more than 140,000 Euros on the sale which was 42,000 Euros more in his pocket than what he would get from our deal. I really hoped this guy would do the right and honorable thing. I really didn't know if I could handle the disappointment.
RM and I returned the next morning. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as RM opened the door and I stepped into the little office. Jana was there wearing a huge smile on her lovely face, and a man and woman sat in chairs facing Zvonka's desk. They were Mr. and Mrs. M. Zvonka made the introductions. I greeted them with my little bit of Slovene, then RM and I pulled up chairs in front of the desk with Mr. M. to my left and Mrs. M. to RM's right. Zvonka started passing copies of a two-page document to each of the four of us. RM cleared his throat and prepared for the arduous task of translating Slovene legalese to me. But before we started with the document, RM asked the seller several questions that I had written down in the little notepad I carry everywhere with me. They were questions about the water and stove and items in the house and the history of the house. I wanted to get to know the man who was selling the house of my dreams and he wanted to get to know a little about the Americanka (uh-mare-i-chanka) buying it. Mr. M. was very nice and smiled when he answered my questions with a soft and pleasant voice. At some point, Mrs. M. replied to a question in English. Aha! She could speak some English. Would that be a good thing or a bad thing?
Finally, Zvonka started reading the clauses in the contract. She would stop at the end of each clause, allowing RM time to translate for me. I would either ask questions or signal that it was okay for her to proceed to the next clause with a nod of my head. Speaking of heads. My name issue reared its ugly head right off the proverbial bat. I wanted to put everything in my maiden name but all of my identification, namely, my passport, was still in my married name. I had no choice but to comply. Now, I'd have to change everything in two countries. Geez.
Section one was the property description. It contained the assurance that Mr. M. was the sole owner of the property as verified by the authorities. This is a fairly important issue in Slovenia where individual property ownership was somewhat non-existent during its time as a Yugoslav Republic. Something we don't have to think about in the United States.
Section two was the sale price and the down payment. Zvonka had left blanks in this portion, but not the overall price of the property. The sale price was no longer 98,000 Euros. The tax had been added, bringing the price to 99,000 Euros, and that pushed the 10 percent down payment up to 9,900 from 9,800 Euros. Okay, so that's a difference of only about $140 dollars, but when you're struggling to come up with it, it makes a difference.
Zvonka asked Mr. M. about the down payment due date. RM asked if he would consider just requiring the entire 99,000 Euros at the closing. Mr. M. responded. Then, Mrs. M. spoke up, shaking her head. Mr. M. shrugged his shoulders and looked at her, then to Zvonka, then to RM. He spoke to RM.
I knew the gist of this conversation but had no clue what had just occurred. RM translated.
"I asked Mr. M. if you could pay the full price at the closing and he nodded. Then, Mrs. M. said no, you had to pay the 10 percent now. Apparently, he's going to let her make that decision, even though he's the seller," RM said.
"So, when do I have to pay it?"
He asked the question of Mr. M., turning his back a bit on Mrs. M. just to make sure his nonverbal was communicating his opinion that the property was Mr. M.'s and not hers. I just hoped RM wouldn't make her mad. But she wasn't about to be left out of the conversation. She said something while looking directly into her husband's eyes. I waited for RM.
"She wants the money today."
"Today!" I said. "Will she take a check? I don't carry 10,000 Euros on me." I know there was panic in my voice.
Then, Mrs. M. addressed me in English.
"Your checks don't work in Slovenia. We work at the bank. We can go there now and you can have the money wired," she said.
I'm not sure how we got from pay-it-all-upon-closing to cough-it-up-right-now-or-else. Surely, we could agree upon something in the middle.
"I fly back to the States on Thursday but it will be too late to do business at the banks there when I return. I can try to have the money wired by Monday."
Mrs. M., apparently the negotiator, slipped back into Slovene, this time looking at Zvonka. RM translated.
"She wants something now to guarantee the payment. She doesn't trust you."
RM spoke with a hint of snide. Zvonka looked uncomfortable. Mr. M. looked a little apologetic. Frankly, I really couldn't blame her. I wasn't just a stranger, I was also a foreigner.
Had I known I would be sitting here now, actually buying a house, I would have come up with money to leave in my bank account. But I had no clue I would find the perfect place and have to buck up for it before I left for the States. I remember starting to shake and sweat, just a little.
RM spoke, again to Mr. M., in Slovene. More discussion. Zvonka weighed in.
"I asked if they would take a personal check from me, written on my account in France. If you don't get the money wired by Tuesday (he'd negotiated an extra day somehow), they'll deposit my check instead," RM said.
"I can't let you do that," I responded. I knew he didn't have that much sitting in his account, although I wasn't going to say that aloud since Mrs. M. could understand some English. RM looked me in the eyes and I knew what he was thinking. First, he was confident that I could wire the money by then. Second, he knew that if I didn't, his bank would extend him the credit and I would pay him back. I guess he was willing to take the gamble with me.
"Okay," I said slowly and with a total lack of confidence. "Is that acceptable to them?"
More conversation in Slovene. Everyone smiled. I smiled last, hoping I was smiling because we had all reached an agreement.
Apparently, we had because we moved on to the closing of the sale and the date I would have to pay the balance due. RM and I had discussed this previously as well. Zvonka had told us there was no standard for the number of days until closing so we could ask for whatever we wanted. I knew I needed time to come up with the rest of the money, and I wasn't in a huge rush to move in since I didn't have a job here and I had a place to live in the States. I just prayed that this negotiation went more smoothly than the last one.
RM spoke to Mr. M. who posed a question in response.
"He asked if October 31st would be okay," RM said to me.
It was July 13th so that would give me more than 3-1/2 months. If I couldn't come up with the money in that amount of time, I wasn't going to. I nodded my head in agreement. Mr. M. smiled at me. Zvonka looked relieved. Mrs. M. still looked a bit skeptical.
The rest of the contract was standard language and a clause about the two of us splitting Zvonka's fee. Jana plugged in the negotiated information and produced a final document. Zvonka made copies of my passport and told me she would email my tax identification numbers. She smiled as she placed an original in front of me and another in front of Mr. M., pointing to the appropriate signature lines. Mr. M. smiled at me and I back at him as we signed our names then swapped to sign again. Then, RM had to sign both originals as the person guaranteeing my down payment with his check. I felt like a kid whose dad has to co-sign for her first car.
The atmosphere lightened a bit as everyone made small talk while Jana made copies. Mrs. M. and I even exchanged a little pleasant conversation in English.
We all said our farewells and walked outside. RM and I decided to walk over to the microbrewery restaurant nearby to celebrate. Once there, I had to give him a huge hug and a kiss. I would have nothing to celebrate right now without him. It wasn't just the check he wrote. It was for his translation, his carting me around Slovenia and Italy to look at properties, his love for me and most of all, his confidence in someone who was trying to find her wings again.
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