The DR attracts a certain type of expat that are best avoided. This list is far from conclusive, and should not be taken to mean that all expats fall under any one of these categories-
1) The retired drunkard with money. An old survey mentioned in GQ magazine noted that over 70% of all expats are or become alcoholics once they have settled into their new country. They can be found sitting in some bar surrounded by other red-faced gringos complaining about Dominican women only wanting money, despite the consequences from hanging out almost exclusively with low-class, uneducated whores eluding them.
2) The retired drunkard with NO money. He'll always be looking to mooch off someone and never stops bothering others. Eventually he may try to scam you while in cahoots with local Dominicans just to get your money, either through a confidence scheme, an orchestrated break-in robbery or physical violence upon your person.
3) The crook on the lam. Respectable on the outside, but on the run from the law in their own country. A crook never changes his stripes-whatever he did to someone in his own country, once he gets comfortable he'll attempt to continue his actions in the DR.
4) The sexual deviant/serial trolloper. Anyone who is single has a right to a good time however they see fit if co-mingling with other consenting adults, but someone whose driving force for relocating to the DR is cheap and easy sex ain't someone you want to befriend. Some expats take it to the extreme and become the worst kind of perverts, all while attempting to maintain a facade of dignity and respect.
5) The extremists-anyone with extreme political/religious/racial views, whether it's to the far left or far right are better off given a wide berth. These people are probably the ones who are the most uptight and angriest of all the types of expats I've had the displeasure of meeting, despite the fact that they moved to "paradise" to be happy.
Banana Republic
Jimmy Buffett
Down to the Banana Republic
Down to the tropical sun
Go the expatriated Americans
Hoping to find some fun
Some of them go for the sailn'
Called by the lure of the sea
Trying to find what is ailing
From living in the land of the free
Some of them are running from lovers
Leaving no forward address
Some of them are running tons of ganga
Some are running from the IRS
And late at night you will find them
In the cheap hotels & bars
Hustling the senoritas while they dance beneath the stars
Spending those renegade pesos
On a bottle of rum & a lime
Singing, give me some words I can dance to
Or a melody that rhymes
First you learn the native customs
Soon a word of Spanish or two
But you know that you cannot trust them
Cause they know they can't trust you
Expatriated Americans feeling so all alone
Telling themselves the same lies
That they told themselves back home
Down to the Banana Republic things aren't as warm as they seem
When none of the natives are buying any second hand American dreams