The Cdn_Gringo Story Resurrected

Prologue:

Beunos dias mes amigos. It was a dark and stormy night, in a galaxy far far away, there once was a man from Nantucket...screw it That's not gonna work.

The sun has come up again over Hispanola. There is a pretty (last time I use the alliteration "pretty I promise) double rainbow beginning in Casa Linda and ending somewhere in the Sea Horse Ranch. I do believe there is a little green guy there with a bucket of gold just off highway 5. I'm tempted to chop down that 800 year old tree that has survived countless encounters with drunk drivers over the years because that is the logical place for a green guy to hide a bucket of gold. Recent shenanigans by underpaid and under trained secuidads certainly gives one good reason to not implement this plan. More Baileys and the cover of darkness might change my mind...

As I lay in bed last night cursing everything Webster I got to thinking about this little project. Authors are a persnickety self absorbed bunch who prefer to command their audience like a conductor at Carnegie Hall. Using lots of tricks of the trade we lead our followers on a magical carpet ride to destinations and through situations that dazzle, inspire and amaze. The truth be told, it's all BS. The human mind wants a picture as reference. Painting an interesting and pleasing picture on the blank canvass of another person's mind is not an easy feat under he best of circumstances even if that person is already inclined to be lead down the rabbit hole. The subject matter being present must be carefully constructed to provide the right combination of intrigue, empathy, recognition and of course interest. I could go on about the conquests of Joan of Arc and I would lose most of you by the sixth sentence unless I prefaced the tale with the alluring fact that she sleeps with her entire army in the 7th sentence, then I've got you.

On every book, there is a blurb about its author on the jacket cover and there are a few things you need to know about me to derive full value from this tale. This information serves as a point of reference so that you can appreciate my perspective and use this information to interpret the mental pictures I will be placing behind your eyes throughout this process.

I do not feel old but I am old. Not old in the sense of a wise old man with a white beard with a lifetime of experiences and the practical knowledge and understanding that comes with the passage of time. I am old because everyone under 30 calls me a geezer except my kids, they use a different word or words that are not appropriate for a family audience. If this were a book being sold by Double Day, you bet your sweet betootie, I'd be using those words...that's another trick of the trade more on this later when I talk about the rules. So I am old but I am not. I am Canadian so I am predisposed to intervene and break up arguments, broker the peace and procrastinate until the cows come home hoping the someone else will open the corral as I would prefer not to have to stand up and actually get involved in the process or any process for that matter. I am retired from a career that has encompassed military service, civilian airlines and a heating & air conditioning company. There are a myriad of odd jobs and professions in between, but they serve only to afford me the opportunity to credit myself as a collector of knowledge but a true master of very little.

I am a sociable person but I do not like people. How's that for a morning conundrum? I am quite content to be by myself for long periods of time. Often preferring my own company because I am low maintenance. The effort of being nice, polite and appearing interested in the minutia of other people's lives is taxing. Remembering their names, their interests and the details of their 55 grand children bores the hell out of me. "I do not like people", is a general statement. There are human beings that I do like. There are others that I have no desire or interest in ever seeing again. I will and do talk to everyone in a social setting. I am a chameleon in that regard. When I do crave human interaction, a good time is had by all and I soak up that comradery and dole it out to myself in small manageable amounts to sustain me during those times when solace seems more appropriate. John-Paul Sarter says it best, "L'enfer, c'est les autres" or "Hell is other people". I am confident that I will touch on this concept many times in the days to come as it applies to Dominicans and people of all cultures and races wherever they may be.

I am an in my mind's own eye one of the good guys. I do not wish harm or ill fortune on anyone. I am not above gaming a system provided that no identifiable individual is harmed in the process. I don't mind depriving a faceless Govt. of a few duckets but would never takes from the mouth of a struggling family their daily bread. I believe in and try to practice as often as possible, the do unto others as you would have them do unto you principle.

That's enough about me. This should give you just enough insight to be able to formulate an understanding of the prose that you will soon subject yourself to. If additional reference material becomes required, I'll offer it up at that time.

Finally this morning, it is Sunday after all, let's discuss the rules:

I have been tasked with the mission to convey what is essentially a very boring fact based chronology of how I got from there to here. If I didn't give a damn, I'd present a bullet point list of everything I remember and be done with it. That, however, is not not really me and certainly not what you all want. To pull this off without having people throwing themselves out of second floor cabana windows or consuming all of the local alcohol that I so much crave and need, I will be taking certain liberties on this journey.

I will avoid like the plague recounting all of those step by step how to apply for residency and other similar topics that are covered elsewhere here on DR1. This will not be a "How to Run away & Hide for Dummies" manual. The subject matter that I choose to include will be true...for the most part. I reserve the right to use all of an author's tricks to keep you captivated and interested otherwise I am just wasting our collective time together. I will employ satire, pathos and irony to name a few. I will and reserve the right to embellish anything and everything. You are free to draw your own conclusions, but I strongly caution you against accepting what you read as the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. By way of illustration, there is a big difference between "he is a pedophile" and "he likes little girls". One does not necessarily equal the the other, although they could and the conclusion one draws from the latter, one does at your own peril.

You may not take umbrage at my spelling mistakes especially with Spanish words. You may not critique my grammar or the fact that I change tenses and perspective on a whim. I will not turn this into a 3rd party tome or a first person narrative. I will work for as long as I feel inclined to do so. I work for Baileys, coffee and smokes, feel free to drop any or all off with my agent whose address I will be provided upon request. This story is far from over. Each day brings me new material and new insight. I am not an expert in all things Dominican and I am learning as I go, just like all of you have done and are doing to this day. While there is a start and part of a middle there is no end in sight. Please do not expect that at sometime in the future there will be a grand reveal that make everything right with the world and leave you with an understanding of our place in it.

I have a plan in accepting this assignment. The details of which are not important at this point. Depending on how it goes I'll refine or cancel this plan all together. I welcome your comments after my posts. Please keep in mind this is my story. It's all about me. When I choose to include you, I do so because it serves my purposes. Please remember and take to heart the immortal words (sort of) of Jack Webb, "My name is Friday. The stories and people you are about to see and meet are true, their names may or may not have been changed to protect the innocent or the guilty." Always keep in mind as I said above, these events are based on fact. However, any resemblance to actual people that you might someday come to know is intentional but in no way should you accept what I write as an accurate reflection of them, their actions, feelings, personality or character.

Finally, I must proclaim that I seem to be most content when I am complaining about something. If you detect a morose or noir'ish slant from time to time, just accept it for what it is and try not to attribute it to anything other than alliteration and a story telling. There will be good, bad and the ugly, not necessarily in equal proportions.

This train departs soon. Should I stop now or is there sufficient interest for me to carry on now that you have an ideal of what you are in for?

Chapter 1: What's that you said?

Gentlemen, gather around, let's commiserate. Usually, the best place to start a story is at the beginning. I cannot do this, because I do not really know when this story begins - I missed the beginning completely.

I, like some of you guys I'm sure, suffer from the male condition known as selective hearing. A direct result of having a "Y" chromosome, something the women in our lives often fail to appreciate, we are different than they are. Usually we males are pretty good at multitasking. We can talk and drink beer at the same time. Most of us can watch sports on TV, drink beer and eat pizza without skipping a beat. Some of us can do those three things and even plan to put some wings on the BBQ and have them cooked and served in time for the second half.

There is a set of circumstances that does seem stymie the male of our species and infuriate the females. If I am reading the manual for my newest tech toy, or writing an email, or basically doing anything more complex than breathing and mi esposa enters the room and makes a statement, I do not process it. I do not hear it. I do not remember it. To make matters worse, I sometimes subconsciously reply to such a statement without being aware that I have done so. Those of you who are similarly afflicted will recall being reminded of having uttered a phrase similar to, "yes dear, that's nice dear, I'll get right on that dear" in the past and having no recollection of having ever done so.

At some point more than 4 years ago, my wife says she told me that that she wanted to move. I have no memory of this event and I know why. Now you do too.

I was happy with my life back home. I had a roof over my head, more cable channels than I needed, super fast internet, a place to buy beer within walking distance, although I never walked because beer is heavy at least in the quantities that I purchased. Life was good. I had sold my business and now officially viewed myself as retired. I was young, relatively speaking which made saying "retired" really cool and always resulted in looks of disbelief from those I was talking to. My wife had her own career and went to work every day. Life was better than good, it was great! The dogs and I had the house to ourselves Monday to Friday, we didn't have to get dressed if we didn't feel so inclined. I had long since trained the wife to stop leaving notes for me with tasks to complete. The administration of those lists was just too daunting to deal with, so the lists grew and grew and much to my delight, stopped appearing altogether. I was in heaven, lots of time to waste and I wasted it like a pro.

We can now safely skip a few months forward in time. Eventually, the circumstances were just right and I heard my wife's proclamation that we are moving for the very first time. There are a few milestones in every man's life which result in the same look of astonishment, disbelief and sheer panic that I was experiencing at that precise moment. By way of illustration, "I'm pregnant, I backed into a fire hydrant in the new BMW or your Mother-in-law is coming to live with us for a few months." Need I say more?

There was a discussion. I dislike discussions. They usually result in me having to do something that I don't really want to do. My wife informed me that she was planning to retire. What the hell! Is this possible, is this allowed, don't I have to sign papers giving my permission? Yes, Yes and No. Damn. I should have retired 20 years earlier. I would have just started shaving at that point in time, but at least I would have had the time to really embrace solo retirement. I perceived my world crumbling before my very eyes and I was powerless to do anything about it. I listened intently, or so she thought. I was too busy listing all the ways that this new scenario would change my comfortable routine. She stopped talking. I think I was expected to say something..."that's nice dear."

A moment or two later, after forcing my brain to shift back to the present from the future where I had been for the past 10 minutes or so, I collect my thoughts, I opened my mouth, "when, why?" was all that came out. "Haven't you been listening? "Yes dear." "What did I say"? "You are thinking of retiring", I mumbled. "You weren't listening", she exclaimed. She started again.

I'm getting too old to work. I don't like my job. I don't like having to go to work during the winter months, standing at cold bus stops and the weather aggravating my chronic sinusitis. I want to live somewhere warm, with palm trees, I want to sit around the house all day and not have to do anything. I am no longer interested in working all week and then having to do all the housework on the weekend. I'm tired. blah,blah,blah blah...

F@#k me! This is catastrophic! Over the next hour I was able to establish that all of this was not going to happen next week. She had a little more than 3 years before being able to collect a full pension. She was not keen to wait that long, but my wild gesticulations and sound logic seemed to have saved the day. I convinced her that having worked as long as she had it only made sense to get a full pension instead of the partial one she qualified for at this very moment. It was agreed that she would not work for during the six to 8 weeks of deep winter between now and then. It was the best compromise I could come up with the bring this very disagreeable discussion to an end.

I think I hurt myself. From that point onward, every time my ears registered to words "move", "retire" or "I don't want to work", regardless of who said them, I broke out into a cold sweat. I had a little more than four years...no problem, lots of time. I set up a countdown on my computer. 1533 days, tick tock, tick tock.

Chapter 2: The journey of a lifetime begins with the first step

Tick Tock, Tick Tock. Time is a funny thing. Logic tells us that the passage of time is a constant. Yet I swear time flies by when you don't want it too and it takes forever when you are waiting for something good. The number of days displayed by the countdown timer are still too large to be of any real concern. Yet the protestations and declarations of intent from my wife continue with a regularity that seems to be on the increase.

I'm the world traveller not her. Before we were married, my wife had never left Canada except for a trip to Washington DC as a child on a family vacation. After I arrived upon the scene, a honeymoon in the USA and yearly vacations both at home and abroad became the norm. I suppose it can be said that I am the author of my own destiny as it applies to my current situation. I was not adverse to moving to another country, I just wasn't convinced that it was necessary or that I really wanted to. My time in the Army and being the child in a military family fostered a familiarity with relocating that prepared me well for the prospect however. I understood all too well the mechanics of an international move. I could grasp the challenges of integrating into a new place, a new culture and a different language that I could not speak. My wife not so much.

As a child I moved 9 times in 10 years. It was no big deal, only because all I had to do was get on a plane and everything else was taken care of by someone else - in these cases, my parents. Even as a young adult, in the military, when the powers that be said you're going, all I had to do was pack my kit, get on a plane and show up at my new duty station. This time was going to be different. I had a house, full of stuff accumulated over what can easily be equated to a lifetime. My wife had no concept of the scope of the logistics that would be involved to pull this off so that the result was what she expected, what I had experienced as a child, a seamless, hassle free relocation from one place to another with no interruption or inconvenience in-between.

Now that it had been made abundantly clear to me that this was going to happen, it was time to get started. "Where do you want to live dear?". Over the years we had been coming to the DR at least once a year, sometimes as often as three or four times a year in more recent years. This destination was the obvious first choice. We ruled out Mexico, Bermuda, the Bahamas and any place under the care and control of the USA pretty quickly. My wife, throughout this time maintained an, "anywhere but Canada" position with just a few ancillary requirements. We did not wish to relocate to a snowbird community of transient part-timers and it had to be warm, moist (no dry heat for us), there must be palm trees and the destination must afford us the opportunity to maintain a lifestyle we were accustomed to at a price we could afford on our pension over the long term and with a stability that would not see us being forced to move again unless we chose to do so on our own terms.

I like the DR. The climate is acceptable. It is humid for the wife's sinusitis, there are palm trees, an ocean or two and the infrastructure if somewhat sporadic in nature, for the most part, exists at a level that precludes me from having to rub two sticks together to cook up roadkill for dinner. I pretty quickly dismisses the DR as a primary focus of our attention because I was not too keen on being on an island and I was not too keen on living on an island in the Caribbean. I, like many other unknowing sun worshippers immediately think hurricane when I think of bad weather in the tropics. Being from a section of land locked Canada, I have not experienced a hurricane. I have not even experienced the remnants of a hurricane that has managed to stay together long enough to drop 12 inches of rain anywhere near me. It was my thinking, that on an island, when the doomsday storm approached, I would be fighting with everyone else of means for the last available seat on the last available plane to save my wife over myself. Life on an island presents challenges. Goods and services are usually more expensive and may not be readily available when you need them. On an island, you may not be able to drive far enough inland to avoid the unpleasantness of a storm and in a really bad situation, it may take quite some time to extricate yourself to a place where Baileys y Coffee are readily available while the aftermath of a calamity is cleaned up and restored to normal.

So with the DR off the discussion table, it was time to find somewhere else. Where? Of all the places that we have been, none were suitable for one reason or another. Briefly, I was getting excited. I'm going to be able to do some travelling. I suggested we go shopping... for a new country.

In modern times, when you need to learn something about something, you surf the net and all will be revealed. Of course it will! Central America quickly because our focus of attention. Warm (read hot!), humid (read wet!), relatively cheap (read yeah right!) and some countries were offering great sounding incentives to get retirees to come live there. It sounded perfect. An internet publication called International Living came up frequently in searches for just about every country I researched. These folks seemed to have their finger on the pulse of NA retiree expectations, wants and wishes. Without exception, their presentations on various countries and in particular various locations within countries were filled with glowing praise and nary a negative word about anything. So I dropped a few duckets on a year's subscription to their online newsletter. Soon after, came the incessant deluge of requests to purchase their more in-depth and insider filled detailed country reports. Quickly on the heels of these enticing offers came the invitations to attend their in country seminars promising introductions to local contractors who could and would transplant your NA dream home right smack in the middle of your very own plot of virgin rainforest close to reliable electrical service, cable, high-speed internet and just about everything else that was just down the street at home. Wow. A sliding clad NA home, constructed from imported material from HomeDepot ? it would be home away from home all fat $20/sq foot guaranteed and a warranty good forever.

I smelled a money making scam. I was right. I wasted the funds for that subscription and the extra fees for a few in-depth country reports that were loaded with promises and great sounding opportunities but scant on any real practical details, exact costs and creditable success stories. We're going to have to do this the old fashioned way ? we have to put feet on the ground and go see what's what.

Further, more discriminating, research resulted in a short list of potential countries consisting of Belize, Panama, Ecuador and Costa Rica. Join me in the next chapter for a whirlwind trip of Central America and learn (if you don't already know) why every single country there is still solidly ranked as third world, a hazard to your continued existence on this planet and not at all the Shangri-la as proclaimed by internet publications that make their fortune telling you differently.

Chapter 3: If today is Wednesday then this must be hell

We are off once again, dressed in our Sunday best prepared for a luxurious and relaxing airplane journey to an exotic faraway place to relax and embrace the warm welcome that all heathens extend to potbellied foreigners who grace their exotic shores. We are determined to avoid the resorts and the throngs of foreigners who are determined to redefine the meaning of eco-tourism by insisting on organic water in their beer. We have done our research, we know where we want to go within the country, we have internet confirmation for ultra-luxurious accommodations at each stop. We have a transportation schedule and the promise of a limousine to transfer us from place to place with no advanced notice required, just a phone call 10 minutes before we wish to be picked up. Everything is going to be perfect and all of our focus can be directed towards answering the one pressing question: Do we want to live here? In retrospect, I think a more appropriate question would have been CAN we live here Or how long could we live here before something eats us, whacks us, or disappears us?

We leave Ottawa on a clear frosty December morning. After a bunch of "convenient" flight connections, several pleasurable touchy feely airport security encounters, and at least one screaming child under 4 months old on every flight, we arrive at our destination. A total of 12 hours has elapsed since I dragged my butt out of bed with the eager anticipation of sampling a new brand of beer I haven't tried before. Why else do people get out of bed every morning? We are weary. The type of tired that is the result of being constantly on the move for extended periods of time, of not being able to find a comfortable chair anywhere, of eating overpriced airport food and even more expensive airplane food. Of not having had enough water to drink so that one needs not make use of the urine soaked airplane washrooms. A tired that screams for quiet, immobility and a good night's sleep on a comfortable bed after a good home cooked meal and a new brand of beer.

When one leaves North American in the dead of winter for the DR and the airplane door is swung open, we all have experience the waft of heat and humidity that rushes from front to rear. This is what I was expecting. As I have often done in the past, I changed in to a pair of comfy shorts and sandals at the airport. I was ready for the tropics. Woohoo! The Ottawa airport is about 300 feet above sea level. We landed in Quito Ecuador which is at 10,000+ feet in altitude. The door of the plane was flung open and there was no rush of heat and humidity. In fact it immediately got colder in the plane. The outside temperature was a brisk 70 degrees with a stiff breeze. I found myself seriously underdressed.

Ok I'll speed this up, we still have a few more countries to visit saving the best for last. Grabbed our luggage, got out of the airport hailed a taxi and got to the hotel. The internet promised the Astoria, we got Super 8. I was really tired. I was breathing very heavily. Putting one foot in front of the other was a struggle made easier by resting for 5 minutes between steps. I had a headache. I don't get headaches. I was no longer looking forward to a meal or even a beer. All I wanted was oxygen. My entire body screamed for oxygen. Very quickly my condition got much worse. I was ill, I was really ill, I was suffering from altitude sickness.

Went to the doctor, got some pills and a promise that I would feel much better in a few days. Great! I was only in Quito for three days and the very thought of moving about was enough to send me running for a bathroom, which only exacerbated my laboured breathing. The wife was fine. Sent her out on her own to meet and greet the locals, to soak up all that Quito had to offer and to see what type of housing was available for rent. This whole affair was her idea after all, it's only fair that she contribute to the exercise. She made it to the corner store, bought a tube of Pringles, came back to the room and proceeded to eat them in front of me, which sent me scurrying for the bathroom. We saw nothing of Quito. I did not feel better. I didn't get any worse, but my head hurt all the time. My lungs felt like they needed a vacation and I was miserable. Time to leave.

Ecuador can be broken up into three distinct regions. The mountains (Quito), a mid-level temperate rain forest region and the sea shore. We were off to the mid-region. I was ecstatic, a lower altitude should bring me much needed relief. It did. Began to feel pretty good after another 24 hours and a drop of 4000 feet. Hotel was better and I was mobile again. Towns in the mid altitude region are very far apart. Lots of "jungle" in between and the mountainous roads always seems to have a 2000 foot drop on one side or the other. Few guard rails and every so often a marker denoting the spot when someone turned the wrong way. We can't live here. Nothing to do, no Supermarcados, a Range Rover with Velcro tires is a must and it rains all the time. Warm moist from the ocean meets tall mountains condenses and pours, everyday, most of the day. Everything is always soaking wet. You, your clothes, you things, your vehicle. The roads are muddy and waterfalls arch over them at regular intervals. The incessant flow of water seems to narrow the road measurably before your very eyes. You can go nowhere fast at anytime. Meet another vehicle on some of these roads in the wrong spot, and someone is backing up for miles to find a spot wide enough to allow the vehicles to slide by each other with barely an inch to spare and that's with one vehicle's tires extending an inch or two over the edge. I like to drink. Drinking is suicide here. Lots of jungle critters looking to get out of the rain and share your accommodations. Foreigners are few and far between. Preferring to live in the larger towns and practicing a very sedentary existence because travel risks death.

We left after a couple of days, feeling pretty dejected. Ecuador has not lived up to our internet induced expectations thus far. The coast was much better. Warm, palm trees, lots of foreigners, towns that didn't require an expedition and porters to travel to. Decent roads, stores, things to do, the ability to get snoggered and being able to stumble home afterwards without a lifeline. Really liked this part of Ecuador. Nice people, colourful buildings and clothing. Lots of funny looking hats. We could live here quite comfortably, except...

Very expensive to live on the coast. Purchase prices for housing are excessive with limited ability to recoup your investment if you needed to sell. Limited rental opportunities except for apartments in a town or city. We grabbed a real estate Agent and spent a day looking at what was available. He was sure we were going to buy, us, not a chance. We did get a really good feel for the lay of the land. We could live here but we decided we didn't want to. You can't get to the coast without flying into Quito. You can't get to the coast without travelling through the "death zone". You can't leave the coast without doing the reverse. I don't ever want to risk being stuck in Quito for any length of time as I never want to be higher in altitude than birds fly unless I'm in a pressurized airplane cabin.

Time to go home, via Quito. The road trip to the airport proved our thinking correct. Not something to do very often and it is easier if you keep your eyes closed. At 9000 feet my headache started to return. We're at the airport, finally, and three hours later heading home.

An interesting trip, learned a lot, most significantly this country was not for us. No significant inducements by the Govt to attract foreigners, volcanoes that erupt frequently and drip lava all over the place, difficult to travel to for visitors and just not an easy all around existence. I would feel trapped by the geography and isolation. Beer would help, but not alleviate what I feel would quickly become a preoccupation at least in my mind.

I'm stopping here today. I'm running out of time and you are getting tired of reading this. Kind of boring I know, sorry. Tomorrow will be better. Panama and Costa Rica will breeze by and Belize will be an eye opener. After tomorrow, we'll be back in the DR and what all of you are waiting so patiently for; what I've learned, how I made it work at least so far, the part you all have played in this journey and my insights for those who are to follow.

Chapter 4: Heaven on Earth

Costa Rica and Panama. Need I say more? Beautiful countries filled with beautiful indigenous people great scenery, lush green jungles, oceans, mountains, a reasonable cost of living and on the surface they appear perfect and for a lot of Expats they are. The feasibility of living in either of these countries depends a lot on where you are coming from, what lifestyle you wish to maintain and how much money you have to devote to the endeavour.

Costa Rica, like Ecuador, has a varied topography. Mountains, stepped countryside and sea shore. For the longest time, this country offered a fantastic incentive program to attract retirees to its shores. The program backed up by the country's appealing climate, geography, affordable cost of living (at least 5 or more years ago) and the security afforded by a very large US military presence made this the #1 destination for discerning North Americans and Europeans looking for a change. This incentive program was so wildly successful resulting in a such large influx of Expats in a short period of time that it was repealed in its entirety and there are no longer any incentives offered over the beauty and present day reality of living there.

Property of all types from cleared lots, to completed homes, apartments, condos were all for sale at prices that one could easily afford with change left over if you chose to sell your property at home. If money was not an issue, you could get a lot for a dollar. Rentals in all categories are available but it might take some time to secure that dream home rental. As anywhere, some willingness to compromise is required. At the time you were there looking to rent, you could have a sea view but no pool. Or a pool but no sea view. Four bedrooms but only two bathrooms. A pool and 13 bathrooms but no view. That type of choice.

It is very easy in Costa Rica to be overwhelmed with the obvious and become completely blinded to those aspects of daily life that will dictate how successful one would be living there for the long term. A colourful culture, nice people, little Govt interference and decent infrastructure in the population centres. Quality food is available, just not the brands that one is used to at home. If you like Mac & Cheese, sorry no Kraft Dinner, but there is lots of pasta and cheddar cheese and milk, make your own. Great daily food markets in the towns and cities. Seems perfect. A pleasing green vista, nice beaches and lots of beer. Pricing is fair and reasonable. There is no widespread "gringo tax" but you can be taken advantage of if you are oblivious.

Remember where you are! This is central america and here, there are pets that will eat you, kill you and/or make you very, very sick. Healthcare costs in Costa Rica are or were disproportionately high. Cheap root canals, but reconstructive surgery would set you back a few sheckles. A broken arm not too big a deal but surgery for appendicitis would be. When we were there, health insurance was primarily provided by companies back home such as Blue Cross etc. I don't need to compare the costs of Blue Cross with Universal in the DR do I?

Picking up a colourful poison arrow frog for a closer look and then rubbing one's eye to shoo away a mosquito would be bad. Lots of poisonous snakes, spiders and insects that carry diseases and misery. Oceans are teeming with sharks, rays, poison stone fish, jellies. Costa Rica is post card perfect and looks are definitely deceiving.

Let's talk Americans. To my American friends, please don't take offense. It is a fact of life that American influence has enveloped this planet. Foreign affairs policies, economic will power, moral suasion and just sheer numbers make an American influence difficult to avoid. Not everyone shares the view that America is the greatest country on Earth or that Americans are cool. In Costa Rica, American influence was impossible to avoid. There was a very large US military presence in the country. Numerous bases, submarine pens, and naval stations dotted this small country. Here was the base of operations for central america for the US military and by logical extension the US Govt.

For many years, the rent paid to Costa Rica by the US allowed for improvements in the lives for those who lived here. Medical facilities improved, infra structure, imports/exports, the general quality of life got better. As with all long term friendships/partnerships, hiccups developed over time. This is not a history lesson so suffice it to say, at the time we were there, locals and their Govt. had come to resent and despise the American presence in their country. The President of Costa Rica, had a pair, and told the US to get out and not slam the door when they left. The US moved lock stock and barrel to Columbia and that was that.

This is a country that is difficult to get to without transiting through the USA. At times other than when travel companies are offering direct service here during the tourist season, the old adage, "you can't get there from here" applies. For the past 10+ years travelling through the US has for some proved problematic and today some prefer to cut off their big toe rather than saying "Hola" to US immigration. I am sure that Costa Rica is on some list somewhere within the US Immigration burocracy that if every "I" is not dotted or "T" crossed, some residual animosity could come into play if the planets were aligned just right.

For Americans and Europeans, Costa Rica is still a popular destination that meets the needs of retirees and despite the total absence of any incentives to move there, many still choose to. There is a requirement for foreigners to maintain a minimum balance in their accounts at all times and a monthly infusion of new cash even if you haven't spent all of last month's deposit yet. Costa Rica occupied the #2 spot on our list of potential countries.

I could write exactly the same thing about Panama as I did for Costa Rica with the exception that the US military presence was not exactly invited or wanted when it occurred. A varied geography provides for all types of micro climates and resettling options. Panama City is modern and cosmopolitan. The countryside not so much, but copious towns mean that everything one wants or needs is not far away. Everything one wants just like in the DR = if it is available and surprisingly in Panama, it usually is. Panamanian currency the Balboa is pegged to the US dollar so is exchanged 1 for 1 and often US dollars are used instead of the local currency. Panama offers the single best set of incentives to retire there that I have come across. ? price international flights for retired foreign residents, free landline telephone service, dedicated lines at banks for foreigners, discounts on electricity, reduced admission prices to movie theatres, a reasonable required retirement income level, really pretty low all things consider $500/month per person. Good medical/dental services available from mostly US trained professionals. In country medical insurance is available at much cheaper prices than using Blue Cross. A very enticing country to move to. Then and now - If your income is in US dollars. Canadians and Europeans are still subjected to changing economic conditions based on the value of their own currency at any given time.

When I was there, I was having a salad for lunch and added some pitted olives to my bowl. One of those olives was not pitted and when I crunched down on the pit, I split my lower right molar. I had to fix this or I wouldn't eating for the rest of my stay, so into a taxi I climbed, 2 hours later I am in Panama City. Saw a dentist. $125 for a temporary fix until I get home, $350 for a permanent fix but I would have to remain in country for follow up treatment after I was scheduled to depart. I opted for the temp fix, had the work done, paid and 2 hours later I was back at the hotel, I ate when I got back. Taxi cost $60 for 7 hours of the drivers time and I gave him $100. Back home in Canada, the permanent fix cost me $1300 dollars of which 30% was covered by insurance. I would have been better off staying an additional week in Panama but hindsight is 20/20.

At this point we need to talk about wild life and crime. As in Costa Rica and anywhere else in central America, you have to be careful where you put your feet, hands, and head. Many species of venomous snakes, make all parts of the country home. Critters that bite, sting, and colonize open wounds abound. Bare feet anywhere that is not a beach is not recommended. Hell, thick chaps should be a fashion requirement. Beer is not as cheap as elsewhere, but we must all compromise. Rental housing was plentiful as it seems the whole country is geared up to embracing foreign income and to make spending it in Panama as easy as possible.

Crime. It exists, can be plentiful, be brutal in nature and usually continues unabated until some arbitrarily defined line is crossed prompting the gringos to get upset and the police to finally step in to act. Not necessarily solve the crimes, but to agree to look at the situation and see if anything can be done. The outlying regions of Panama, especially the area around Bocca del Torro can be equated with the wild west of times gone by. There are lots of firearms in Panama and gun violence is the method of choice if someone wishes to ruin your day. As in the DR security of one's person and property is an ongoing concern.

Panama is hot! Being a stone's throw away from the equator means that year round the temps are high. Better in the winter months, but still potentially much hotter than the DR at the lower elevations and near the coast. There is a breeze but unlike Sosua, the breeze feels like the exhalations of Smaug from the Hobbit story. Humidity is oppressive at times and if one wishes to use a camera outside coming form an air conditioned room, you might need to set the camera outside for an hour to warm up and the condensation that coats everything to evaporate before the item can be used. Eye glasses immediately become opaque upon going outside and take a while to revert to clear. Wiping them usually leaves streaks meaning back inside you go to find some glass cleaner.

Smoking. Panama has the most restrictive laws regarding tobacco use of anywhere I've been. No one may smoke anywhere in public. Not in the bars, not walking down the street not in your car. You may smoke within the confines of the walls of your house, but in your yard is open to interpretation. Tourists are generally left alone and not hassled, but if you are known to be a resident, then the same graduated fines that are levied on the locals apply to you. $20 for the first offense, $40 for the second, $80 for the third and on it goes until your lungs become the property of the state and they decide to take them from you. Not a big deal to most I know, but important to know if you are tobacco dependant and intend to stay that way.

Panama at this point in time has become our first choice. The residency process needs to be initiated from within Panama. A lawyer while not required is a good idea especially if trips back and forth are not your idea of a good time. While I have no direct experience with the process itself, I would be very surprised if it is anywhere near as convoluted and inconvenient as the one in the DR. Functionaries seem to know what they are doing and what is going on. The costs are reasonable and the time frames for processing seem to be of no great concern.

You need to really understand that Panama's southern neighbour is Columbia. Separated only by a strip of jungle known as the Darien. The Pan American Highway ends abruptly at the Darien by design, there are no plans to extend it to the border. The sign at the end of the road says something like, "Here be dragons. Pass and you will certainly be eaten, kidnapped, killed, lost or otherwise be subjected to such misfortune that you wished you were dead." Panama and Columbia do not like each other and they like that way. Columbian drugs abound in Panama. With this comes everything you hear happening in northern Mexico these days. No Gringos enter the Darien. They don't even entertain the idea of going anywhere near there. Truly a lawless frontier is the southern part of Panama.

Until recently, Panama was a favoured destination of those who wished to disappear. The US has now donated and maintains a fairly modern computer network that tracks the movement of people coming and going. It is no longer very easy to arrive with a new identity supported by questionable documents. This was not always the case and there are many, shady inhabitants whose stated identity may not be accurate. These miscreants are involved in the movement of drugs northward, are just plain predatory creatures who make their living separating you from your money and things, are Nazi descendants still living off the avails of plundered Jewish riches, serial killers and generally not nice people on the lam from the authorities at home. These people don't leave due to the new immigration system so they are there to stay. As recommended so often on DR1 for those living in the Dominican Republic, one must be very judicious and careful of "friends" in Panama.

Three countries are now ranked 1, 2 and 3. One left to go ? Belize, the only English speaking country in central america. Tomorrow we deal with Belize then on to the final chapters that everyone is waiting for to address how anywhere else became here, what it took to get here, what it takes to stay here and how not to screw it up so badly that you have to leave in six months. I will also offer a mini-DR1 survival guide which should make me a bunch of new friends for sure.

Hasta leugo.

Chapter 5: Belize - Ouch, that really friggin hurts... Part 1

Time marches on, it waits for no one. 1500 plus days has dwindled to just under 630 according to my computer which seems to direct my entire life now when the wife isn't inserting herself into the equation. We have one more research venture to complete. I'm looking forward to this country. The all knowing internet has painted me a mental picture that I find pleasing. Mayan ruins to scamper up and down when I feel like vicariously reliving the Rocky movie, quiet, slow pace of life and a carefree existence to be envied by everyone. Belize is a member of the British Commonwealth, a useless fact that we Canadians somehow tend to find comforting because we erroneously assume that such a designation means that the country and us enjoy a meeting of the minds that guarantees a shared value system and preferential treatment not afforded to others from non-member countries. Hey, I've met the Queen. In my mind, the single biggest plus for Belize not having ever been there...they speak English. Beer is beer. "Where are the bathrooms", is not a conversation that requires the intervention of the United Nations.

Belize is a small country. Population less than 400K, relatively cheap cost of living, has palm trees, is hot, has an ocean (one Gulf and one ocean), has lots of humidity, it seems to meet all of our predefined requirements set forth by Wifey with one big plus...they speak English. The internet proclaims this small country just south of Mexico to be one of the premier retirement destinations for anyone savvy enough to actually read the internet ad nauseam. Guatemala, lays claim to most of the territory that is Belize today based on a claim that predates the arrival of the British to colonize this part of the world in their relentless pursuit of bananas and all things prestige related. The fight for reclamation continues to simmer even to this day.

From the outset I was sure this was the country for us. I had high expectations, I knew the price of a beer in a local cantina, I knew where the local cantinas were, I knew almost exactly where I wanted to live and I had this country figured out and I was only looking for confirmation that I had found "the place" that we would soon call home.

Let's go to Belize. What do you mean there are no flights to Belize from Canada? It's a member of the Commonwealth don't you know? Oh I see, not enough people in a year want to go there so it makes no sense to schedule a flight. Can you make an exception for us? No! Ok, we'll look elsewhere. Oh Dear, we can't get there from here. Want to go to Mexico first? I had two options that didn't involve the USA. Via Mexico City and then a transfer flight to Chetumal or go to Cancun and then a 5.5 hour bus ride to Chetumal which is on the border right next to the Belizean town of Corozal where I saw us settling down. The cost of an AeroMexico flight from MC was too much to justify so, I booked a week at an AI in Cancun (we'd been there before so I knew what I was doing and what I was getting). The bus to the border would be about $9.50 USD each, much cheaper than the cost of a flight on a rinky-dink airline.

Cancun was enjoyable. I stayed fit by giving my liver a work out every day and I ate like I was about to disappear into a dark hole in the third world and would need some reserves. The week flew by and it was time to get on the bus. The trip was just like the metro bus from Puerto Plata to Santo Domingo in the DR. Modern bus, air conditioned, comfy seats and no chickens or goats to be seen anywhere on board.

At a smoke stop and an intermediary loading and unloading point on the bus trip, I met a fellow Canadian sitting a few rows in front of me who proclaimed to own an island just off the Coast of Belize. He extended an invitation for us to visit him and his wife and I readily agreed. Something to do to break up the monotony of going through the motions of confirming the Belize as the perfect country for us I thought. I got this gringo's phone number and promised to be in contact around mid week. Back on the bus rolling down the Mexican highway, I was thinking to myself, I kind of like the idea that the journey to Belize is not all that easy and convenient. Relatives would not be flocking to visit us at all the time and we could enjoy a degree of solitude that had thus far been lacking from our existence at home. Add another check mark for Belize.

Back home when I was figuring out how to get from the Mexican city of Chetumal to Corozol Town in Belize, I had opted for cheap local transport using a bus service that left regularly from where we would be going to where we wanted to be. My new Canadian friend pointed out that was the stupidest idea he had ever heard of and offered us a ride in his VIP transfer service. Door to door from the bus depot in Mexico to our first hotel in Belize. Always the pragmatist I couldn't refuse. I was lucky. The local bus service to Belize would have included chickens and goats wandering up and down the aisle, would have been hot, sticky, slow and probably would have broken down twice during the 10 mile trip and taken hours instead of 20 minutes.

We are in Belize. The border was a breeze. Had to pay Mexico a fee for future re-entry that was cheaper than paying the exit fee and then a fee to come back in when it was time to return to Cancun for the flight home. Checked into the hotel was surprised yet again that the internet had lied, this was not the Taj Mahal, it was a in fact a room right out of a Hemingway novel based on Belize as it existed in 1935. No big deal, there was wifi service. I asked the proprietor for the password and was informed that his son infected the computer with a virus and wifi no longer worked. Unacceptable. I ordered 4 beers from the bar to be brought one after the other and sat down to fix this guy's internet. It was a self motivated act of kindness and I was sure the four beers would be free when I was done. They were not but the internet was available again and that was a small consolation.

We spent four days getting to know the lay of the land. There are no fast food restraints anywhere in Belize. A chicken dinner from a restaurant was about $2.50 US. Produce was cheap and plentiful once you figured out what it was and how to prepare it. Oranges were sold green, pineapples looked like pineapples, potatoes were still roundish in shape and that chicken dinner you were anticipating later on was still running around the market at 10 am complete with head and legs.

We looked at rentals in Corozal and the surrounding environs. Nothing was found that I was interested in. Pools in a rental were nonexistent. Nothing big enough for our tastes. Not enough bathrooms to prevent a line up when guests were present or when I was on a bender. Uncleared property was dirt cheap. A couple hundred USD/acre. 5 acres cleared was $12,000.00.

It quickly became clear that if Belize was to be home, we would need to build. Having watched all of those "reality" based HGTV shows about people finding their dream home in faraway places I already knew exactly what I configuration I wanted to build. More research was needed. Back to the hotel and my internet connection to get more "facts".

Time for a break. Called my island buddy and told him we would be there tomorrow to accept the offer of a visit and a free lunch. Belize consists of a mainland portion (which I liked, because I can drive all the way home if I needed to) and a collection of smallish islands called Cayes (pronounced Keys just like in Florida). The options to get to this island off the coast of Ambergris Caye were limited to two. By boat, about a 3 hour trip each way for a couple of bucks and by small plane for $75 each, return. By plane it was. I am an impatient gringo on a mission to ensure that the local beer (Belikin) was of sufficient quality and capable of being brewed in the quantities that I would need to stave off dehydration should I come to live there. I did not have hours of free time to fritter away on a boat.

For most of that day and a good part of the evening I had settled into what I was sure would become my second home in Corozal town. A small cantina that sold Belikin for 75 cents a bottle. They had wifi, a tad slow, but sufficient for the research I wished to engage in. I envisioned my daily routine to follow something akin to: Monday ? Friday, get up, coffee and Baileys to start the day. Do some chores around the house and then head to the cantina, drink, surf the net and engage in social pleasantries all day and take a cab home for supper. I liked the potential cost break down of this lifestyle. I figured, $15/day would accomplish the above with the ability to buy a round or two for all my new friends that I would surely meet, especially if I was buying. So far no problems that I couldn't work around and we were still on budget.

Went to the island. Immediately knew I could not live on a Caye. Height above sea level for these places was measured in inches not feet. A bather performing a cannon ball would result in a rogue wave large enough to wash everything away, never mind what a hurricane would do. My Canadian friend turned out be a developer. His motivation for inviting us to his island was to show us the turnkey condos he built for $300,000.00 each only inches above the level of the rising tide. No friggin way. He presented a second option. A new development he was planning located not too far away but far enough that it was not easy to visit. For $40,000.00 we could buy a plot, that would someday be cleared. If we wanted he would build us the perfect solar powered home on this plot for $55/sq foot and all we would have to do is pay and move in.

Chapter 5: Belize - Ouch, that really friggin hurts... Part 2

He showed us a spiffy power point presentation and lots of conceptual drawings that looked really appealing. No friggin way. At least he was somewhat honest in admitting that at this very moment, the area was a mangrove swamp. He expected construction to begin within 6 months. Prices at that point would go through the roof and this was our only chance to buy in at bottom basement prices. In time we would be rich he promised. We did not buy and we did not get lunch.

Belize is a poor country. It is appealing to expats for several reasons, but many get taken for a ride. There were no less than 25 developments that were actively being sold to foreigners when we were there. Just about every evening while we were at dinner in a restaurant, we could overhear the same conversation play out with different players. "Thanks for accepting our invitation to come to Belize. Tomorrow we will go visit some Mayan ruins, see the monkeys and parrots, then I'll take you to our new development. You will love it. There is going to be a golf course, community pool, a marina where you can park your boat for almost nothing. Your new house will be built and furnished. All you will have to do is move in and sit on the terrace soaking in the Belizean weather and waving to all of your other extremely fortunate neighbours who have also seen this to be the "chance of a lifetime" that you are now being offered. Most of the time we never saw these gringos again. BTW the Mayan ruins are not a good place to pretend to be Rocky Balboa. Too steep to be considered safe, crumbling rocks due to their age and the oppressive humidity from the surrounding jungle would land you in a Hospital in short order with heat stroke if you tried to run up the sides.

The reality of these developments is pretty bleak. 85% of them are never completed. Those who bought in and actually got a house, ended up paying more than they expected and the community they were promised never sprang up around them. No marina, no pool no community centre and no shopping mall with all the things from home that they could not otherwise get here. Those fortunate enough to actually get their house rarely received the deed to the property. Real Estate transactions in Belize just like here in the DR are often completed with a promise of land registration and transference at some future time. The developers are never around long enough to follow through with this and never planned to anyways. The country is dotted with uncompleted developments consisting of abandoned gringo properties in various stages of completion with no infrastructure to support them. The Govt got its cut and doesn't seem to care.

There is a large Mennonite community in Belize. These people grow most of the food that feeds the country. They are a hardworking people and dabble in many side businesses. One of these is the construction of wood homes. A typical home was in the neighbourhood of $40,000 and I figured I'd need the equivalent of two homes, double the price. We were not moving just to come back home later. This move was going to see us live somewhere else for a long time. Housing could not be a compromise. But wood? Probably not a good idea. Think termites, hurricanes and fire. I had not yet thought this through completely.

There are about 13 different species of venomous snakes in Belize and lots of really big constrictors that are just as troublesome. They are everywhere. You are guaranteed to have at least once species living in your backyard. Army ants often invade homes on their relentless search for food. If they arrive and you are there, you, your pets and any living creature in the vicinity will get eaten and carted off to line their pantry. When the ants come, you have to leave for a few days until they go elsewhere. There isn't enough juice in a case of raid to even put a dent in the numbers of advancing ants numbering in the millions in columns that snake off into the distance for as far as the eye can see. I did mention these things bite and take chunks out of you didn't I? Jaguars are present in the jungle in sufficient numbers not to be considered about to become extinct but not so numerous as to been see all the time. These big cats do hunt and eat people and pets. They do leave the jungle proper from time to time and are yet another concept to keep in the back of your mind when out and about in the countryside. The snakes are in the trees, in the shrubbery, in the grass, under logs and rocks, in holes, under your house they are everywhere. For someone not used to thinking about such things, remembering to empty your shoes before putting them on is difficult. Of course there are scorpions here, several species in fact. Some of these snakes are downright viscous and territorial. The Fer del Lance aka the Tommygoff, the yellowhead or Bothrop's Asper are known for chasing people as the flee for their lives. People are bitten and do die regularly. All manner of tropical insects, abound. Spiders literally as big as dinner plates, consume bats and birds and mammals and quite frankly creep me right out. There are killer bees, bot flies, worms and other parasites that only want to live inside you and spend all their time tracking you down. Ticks, fleas and leeches all reside within a short distance of humanity. Dengue, malaria and fevers of all types are endemic . Belize is the one place that has it all. Some places within the country are worse than others but being so small, there is no locale that is truly free of natural hazards.

After a day at my favourite cantina practicing my proposed daily routine, I opted to walk back to my hotel. Corozal is a small one traffic light town. Maybe 4 cars constitutes a serious traffic jam. My hotel is on the outskirts of town 20 minutes away. I successfully negotiated the broken and incomplete sidewalks in town and am about 2/3 of the way home. I have to urinate. There is not a soul around. I am on a dirt road with drainage ditches on either side. I stop, step to the side of the road, proceed to relieve myself only to really offend a 6 foot caiman by peeing on his head. I wasn't finished, but I was if you know what I mean. My leg was wet, and I was moving at a fair clip towards my four walls and thatched roof. Lesson learned. Complacency, drunkenness and a failure to appreciate the reality of living in Central America is dangerous and no insurance company lists being eating while taking a leak as an insurable risk. Even the plants have a hate on for you. The poison wood tree akin to our poison ivy plant on steroids springs immediately to mind. Resting against this tree for some shade and bit of a breather is not the respite you are expecting nor is it a good idea. If you don't recognize it for what it is because you are unaware, you will soon learn to and you'll notice it is everywhere. The tree that provides the only remedy usually grows nearby. If you don't know about the poison wood, you certainly don't know about the remedy either.

There are two paved highways in Belize, one running north sound and the other east west. Just about every other road is dirt or gravel or a combination of both. When it rains, and it does rain in Belize, roads quickly become quagmires and travel is difficult or impossible. 4 wheel drive is a must but not a guarantee of getting to where you may need to go at any time. Most of the population resides in or near Belize City or the capitol Belmopan. Belize City and to a lesser degree the Capitol are a place of daily gang/drug violence. Firearms are seriously restricted in Belize but this tends to only prevent law abiding foreigners from being able to protect themselves from those who do not necessarily observe or support the applicable legislation. These laws did not prevent a gang member from lobbying a hand grenade at a rival. A hand grenade! Most Expats I talked to opt not to go to BC and if they must, they hire a car & driver for the trip.

The Govt is corrupt. Blatant political payoffs are the norm if you want a deed to a property, or if you have been noticed as a person means and just wish to be left alone. Just ask John McAfee. The local constabulary often set up roadblocks to solicit cold drinks and food on days when it is hot, which are numerous. The police are seriously underpaid, even more so than in the DR. They cannot make ends meet without finding an additional source of financing, so they do. Speed bumps on the major motorways are insidious. These are three feet wide and three feet high. Your vehicles climbs up one side, drives across and down the other side. Hitting one of these at speed in the dark will without a doubt deposit your drive train in the centre of the road. These "sleeping policemen" are also where you meet many of the Mennonites selling bags of peanuts and produce by the side of the road. You are literally crawling by them at speeds so slow that one has enough time to have a detailed conversation about price before being able to make use of the accelerator again.

We've learned a lot about Belize in a short time, not everything, but enough. Time to go home. Bus back to Cancun after a VIP transfer from Belize back into Mexico and the bus depot. One night in the Holiday Inn Express scarfing down pizza and beer. Mmmm, pizza! I'm going to miss pizza while living in Belize. Medical care was primitive with better facilities in the two largish cities. Minor medical problems could be dealt with cheaply but complicated procedures or ongoing treatment would probably be problematic. It was a good thing we were going to live so close to a major and modern Mexican city. No worries...

Why move to Belize? Because they speak English. Despite everything above, I felt that we could make Belize work. Even with having to build a house and knowing that I would never be able to sell it in a timely fashion or for anything near what I had paid, it didn't seem to matter. No fast food, no big deal. A Mexican city within a 20 minute drive means fast food (that's not so fast to get to), advanced medical care, Sam's Club, Sears, and Robertson screws could be had with a minimum of logistical overhead. I was in denial and I had no clue.

I did check up on my island friend about six months later. He had disappeared. No new development started and the existing condos had been abandoned as there was still no permanent electrical service to this spit of sand he called an island. The generator that did supply power when we were there, had long since broken and no replacement parts could be found. One of these condos was featured on a HGTV International Living program on Belize and some misguided lady actually bought one. I feel sorry for her. There, but for the grace of god, and my common sense, went I.

After arriving home and before all of my mental faculties started working again (I think there was something in the beer) I kept abreast of news coming from Belize. The whole sordid McAfee thing, the immigration and passport scandals, the bribes and misappropriation of public funds for personal gain and this story. Just outside Corozal Town is a fishing village and Expat community called Sarteneja. Population of much less than Sosua (in the off season). The water processing plant blew a gasket or something. Part would be $20,000 to replace. The town went without water for three months while waiting for the Govt to cough up the funds to fix the problem. I never heard anything further. I assume it got fixed eventually, but sh%t, three months with no running water (wells are few and far between because low lying places on the coast tend not to draw anything but sea water when you dig a hole). If I lived there, I'd probably have a building named after me as I would have had to write a cheque for the part. I'm not prepared to wait three months for water or 8 weeks for electricity after a storm blows through. This is me now, not me then...

Chapter 6: The answer is 42...Part 1

We are now at the point where all of you are expecting some sort of grand revelation or a snippet of wisdom that has defied being known for millennia. How does a person leave home for a place far away to start a new life, to choose wisely and give themselves the very best chance of success? Here it is are you ready? I'm not going to tell you just yet. Let's see if you can figure it out for yourselves.

I now know as much as I am going to. I have a year before I am expected to move lock stock and barrel to somewhere else. The only criteria I have been given by the instigator of this grand plan is warm, palm trees, humid and anywhere but here. I've been married only once and to the same person for 27 years. I know my wife. I know what she likes and what she doesn't. I know how to keep myself out of trouble and exactly how much I can get away with and with what frequency. I know what she wants despite whatg she says and that means I know what I am expected to provide. She is not a "follow me, we are going this way" leadership type person. She leaves that to me, partially because she wants to and partially because I am so good at it.

I know when she says, "warm, palm trees, humid and anywhere but here" she really means tropical, great weather, some rain but not too much, no snow, lush green scenery, a place where she is safe, can be well fed with comfort food she likes, not subjected to food she doesn't like. She wants a place where she doesn't have to do much to enjoy day to day life. She doesn't want to worry about money, can get treatment if ill or injured, has a more than adequate roof over her head and a bunch of bathrooms and above all else can live exactly as she does in Canada but somewhere else without so much as one iota of stress or bother. Oh yeah, she needs to be able to watch the same shows on TV as she did at home. I gather this last prerequisite is pretty important.

That's a tall order but it falls on me to fulfil it. This is why she keeps me around and it is my obligation to provide for her wants and needs. This is what was expected and what I agreed to when I said I do" so many years ago. My life experiences and my success in business makes the logistics of this enterprise fairly straight forward. The unknown factor is everything I don't know (obviously), what I think I know that is wrong and those things that I can't possibly know until I encounter them.

We talk about the countries and our experiences on and off for a couple of weeks. I force myself to listen to what is often a meandering and shifting set of likes, dislikes and expectations. If I was Donald Trump, I'd buy her an island that she can come and go from anytime she wanted and that would have worked out nicely. Unfortunately, that's not possible, and as I have suspected all along, my wife has absolutely no clue or appreciation for the realities of moving everything we own and ourselves to a place far away where neither of us has any real practical experience existing for the long term. I can't and won't go through all of this again anytime soon. I have to step up and get it right. I have to do so in a way that my wife feels a part of the process with her input being at least considered and in the end she can continue to believe this is all her idea and what a good idea it was, "Right Dear?" "Yes Dear" I will say.

First big revelation. Of the four countries we thought were acceptable, all were lacking in a few fundamental ways. Ease of transportation. No central American country is easy or convenient to get to reliably all year round. Some like Panama and Costa Rica were fairly accessible during the NA tourist season but the rest of the year forget it. You already know my requirements for airline travel so no further explanation should be necessary.

Safety and security. I am a Canadian. At home the biggest challenge to my safety and longevity comes from my fellow man and the occasional bear or moose. I do not have to contend with poisonous critters so I am not programmed with that innate survival instinct. When it comes to all manner of perversions of nature whose habitant and habits are foreign to me I am out of my element. I may be able to learn, but this is a steep learning curve and mistakes will be costly. Not only do I have to learn to recognize new life forms quickly from a distance, I have to train myself to look for them in the first place. I also have to constantly evaluate potential threats and scenarios for my wife. I am not convinced that I can pull this off reliably anywhere in central America. A hand grenade lobbed at a gang member has never entered my mind as a possible threat nor has jumping in a pool to find something that wants to eat me waiting there. Until recently, taking a leak hadn't been considered potentially life threatening. I will have a mental lapse at some point and when I do, someone could get hurt or killed. I do not want to live where I am constantly on guard for the happenstance appearance of a creature big or small that poses such a serious risk to one's health. I'd be a paranoid mess within 6 months.

Too far, too hot, too volcanic, too high, too much like work, too much that is unknown and most importantly too hard to recover from if an error is made. We don't know anyone in these countries nor do we know anyone who has ever lived in these places. I have no frame of reference beyond a week or two of real on the ground experience. I can't make well informed decisions about any of these countries. Since I lack so much practical knowledge I can't possibly formulate a fallback position or alternate plan if something goes wrong. I am not naive enough to think for a second that something, sometime isn't go to go wrong, maybe very wrong. I have to account for this and have a plan in place should such a situation occur. I need to know what I am going to do so I don't have to figure it out then and I must be confident that it is practical and will work.

With the stroke of a single figurative pen, I have placed us right back at square one. We can't move to central America because I cannot meet my wife's expectations with the degree of certainty that she expecting even if she doesn't fully appreciate what she is asking of me.

If not there where? I know the most about living in a foreign land from my time in Europe. I know there are palm trees in Spain and other countries in the Med. The economic stability in some of these places was not the greatest at the time and I was sure that none of these countries have ever even entered my wife's consciousness. Too big of a departure from the norm for this late stage in the game. I was not prepared to engage in a European tour to solicit input on options that to this day have not even been entertained by the party searching for warmth and palm trees. Time to go with what I know.

We have been coming to the DR for about 15 years. We may not know a whole lot about living here but we do know the geography, culture and have an inkling of what life would be like here. We know what type of housing construction is available, that services are available if not 100% of the time, most of the time. The DR is 4 hours south on a single plane, is serviced by Canadian airlines year round and it is relatively easy for visitors to come see us and for us to get home if we need to.

My initial reservations about living on an island and hurricanes seemed really trivial and much more manageable when compared to getting eaten by caiman, cooked in a lava flow or having your lungs fill with fluid from altitude sickness. I can and will make the DR work. I informed my wife of my new state of mind and got a casual sounding OK that I felt belittled the mental exercises I had been performing for weeks. I know my wife. Palm trees, warm, humid and not Canada. How could I realistically expect anything other than a simple Ok.

Everyone can pack and hire a moving company to ship their stuff. Everyone can rent their house if they choose to do so. I won't belabour these points. How does one move to the DR? I never considered the non-formal approach as I knew nothing about how people had been coming here for years and paying a fee when they leave. Living, driving and partying here without status, carefree as birds on the wind, who knew? Time to contact the DR embassy in Ottawa and see what I needed to do. I knew from the outset that we could get residency because we were retired and had pension income. I did not know how many steps would be involved or how long it would take.

I listened as a disinterested functionary answered my questions for what seemed like the 1000th time that day. In the end I knew I was not prepared to do all of this myself. I don't mind getting documents together. I understood some needed to be apostilated(sp?). I understood the need for everything to be translated into Spanish. I knew that very few people in Santo Domingo would be able to deal with me in English. I can't read the forms, I don't understand the instructions, I don't know where anything is and I have no way to tell a taxi driver where I needed to go. I needed help. I asked the Embassy if they knew of an immigration lawyer they could refer me to and they did. I contacted this person and we were off like a herd of turtles.

$2600 US per person to the lawyer got me the following; all documents translated into Spanish, paid my passport visa fees, letters of guarantee, letters of introduction, all processing fees in Santo Domingo, plus pictures, plus finger prints, plus a cup to pee in, plus the medical fees, basically everything except the cost of the documents I needed but didn't have and the $100/stamp for each document the Embassy needed to ink. I started gathering documents for the lawyer in Feb. 2014. I started looking for moving companies and tenants for the house. I started researching the DR in more depth than I had previously and I joined DR1. Never much liked the site before, really only used it for weather and a quick check to see if anything of major concern was going on before I hopped on a plane. Had no interaction with any of the denizens who inhabited this place but I was about to. I sort of half heartedly started to see what type of rental accommodations could found. I found so many on the internet that were perfect, I stopped looking. It's much too early to rent something. My wife's retirement date is finalized. Moving day is Sept. 9 2014, the movers are booked the house renovations are scheduled, the lawyer has all the paperwork what could go wrong?

Chapter 6: The answer is 42...Part 2

About 7 months to go until moving day. I have put in place just about all of the preplanning that I can do. What's left is actually packing up that which we intend to ship to the DR to make the new place just like the old place. Of course I still have to do all of the tedious things such as forwarding mail to someone who agrees to scan it and email it to me, changing addresses at the banks, cancel utilities etc.

Even as I sat in my comfy chair at home I was being schooled in the ways of the DR, I just did not realize that was happening at the time. Being made to run around getting documents, getting them stamped, submitted, and a lot of waiting was advance training for Santo Domingo. I did not realize or appreciate the amount of duplication in the process. Many of the hurdles one jumps over to get a resident visa stamp in your passport will need to be done again when you apply for residency in the DR. I asked a lot of questions to make sure the documents I submitted were exactly the ones that would be needed. One problem I encountered ? My lawyer insisted that a local police check for good conduct would be sufficient. Whether the rules changed or I was given incorrect information I do not know, but my Ottawa criminal record check was not accepted because it contained no finger prints. When notified of this, I immediately applied to the RCMP and received the correct forms for an additional cost. My lawyer said I could bring these down to the DR when we came in July to look for a house, so I was relieved at not having to pay FedEx again. I did however, have to get these two forms stamped by foreign affairs in Canada and stamped by the DR Embassy to the tune of another $200 US. Oh well it's only money and nothing I could do except comply. More on this later.

I still think everything is moving forward as planned and on schedule. I go over and over in my mind; What do we need to have in the DR? What size house, is air conditioning a priority, medical insurance, transportation. Am I prepared to rely solely on public transportation and taxis or do I need a vehicle. A moto or a car? What is going to take in the DR to duplicate as closely as possible my NA daily existence? Can I get that? Can I do that? Is that even realistic?

I hear from the lawyer. She is not going to submit my application for a residency visa to the Embassy in Ottawa until the last possible moment. She wants to have the full 60 days of validly to work her voodoo in Santo Domingo. I understand, but take no comfort in the fact that I won't know if the visa will be approved until I am about to step on a plane. I am confident the approval will be given and I believe we'll be fine, but that part of me that needs to have things done well in advance makes me feel uneasy. Life rarely offers a guarantee or "the best laid plans..." and all that.

Time to find a place to live in the DR. Back to the internet I go and guess what? Every single suitable properly that I saw listed months ago, is still listed as being available for rent. I get that ominous sinking feeling. Sure enough, properties for rent here get listed quickly, but those properties that are not available never seem to get removed. Property after property is not available. Dealing with DR real estate companies is a pain. You ask a question and it usually takes 48 hours to get a response. "Is this property available?" Two days pass and the reply "no" comes back. Just that, "no." No alternatives are suggested no additional information proved, just "no". Very frustrating. I am dealing with about 5 companies at the height of my search. Language is a bit of an issue with some agents. I time the emails so that I am for the most part hearing from someone every day. The search for property from 3800 Km away is not going well and is taking much longer than I could have imagined. I'm not panicking yet, but I am concerned. It was the plan to come to the DR late in July to file the papers in SD and to walk through one or two promising properties before signing a lease. It now looks like a large chunk of our two week stay may be taken up just finding four walls and a roof and not devoted to conditioning my liver for the onslaught to come, as I had planned.

Just when I was about to admit defeat, a knight on a white horse rode into my life. This person runs a local NC real estate company and is a lurker here on DR1. I am sure he found me after one of my exasperated forum posts. I do not have his permission to drag him into this tale but if you search through some of my past posts you will find my recommendation to use his company if someone finds themselves in a situation similar to mine.

Finally a promising lead. A villa that looks good, is available and within our price range. I confirm there is a pool, there is hot water, the property is fenced, has a clothes washing machine, a bath tub, is located where we want to live and most importantly, is air conditioned at least in the bedrooms. Everything is confirmed to my satisfaction and for the first time in my life I visited a Western Union to send some $$$ for a deposit. An appointment to view the property and sign a lease is scheduled for early August.

I can now go back to focusing my attention on the minutia of this upcoming move. Which I do exceptionally well if I do say so myself.

I am pestering my lawyer incessantly, to the point that I feel she is now intentionally ignoring me. I am not her only client but I act as if I was. When do I get my visa? Do you have everything you need, are you sure? What about these record checks that I've had for a couple of months?

We land in Puerto Plata on July 29. Tomorrow we go to SD on the bus to file for residency with the help of our lawyer. Discussions to date suggest that two full days in SD is more than enough time. In SD we are picked up by our lawyer at the bus station. We go to the hotel and the next morning we expect to go to Migracion at 8 am and "get 'er done". I give my lawyer the record checks and we are done for the day, eat and go to sleep. The next morning lawyer picks us up, we spend hours opening bank accounts, I'm a foreigner without status and no place to live yet so this is not as easy as I was lead to believe it would be. We went to apply for health insurance with Humano as recommended by our lawyer, needed a medical exam, said "screw this" as Universal did not have such a requirement, so wasted some more time. Wasted time seems to be a requirement of life here I am quickly coming to understand. 3.5 hours to fill out forms to open two bank accounts and 2 hours to apply for health insurance only for that process to end abruptly. It's hot, I'm sweating and nowhere near enough beer so far today. We did not get to Migracion. The record checks need to be translated and stamped. Something that could have been done months ago had the lawyer asked me to send them to her but no, let's do this the Dominican way- wait until the last minutes and be stymied by "the process". This was going to become a often repeated and ongoing theme.

Lawyer suggested we stay in SD over the weekend and maybe we could proceed on Monday. Sorry, can't do that a) because there is no guarantee that we will be able proceed on Monday and b) I have an appointment to view the villa on Monday. I can't afford to screw up both activities at the same time. Back to Puerto Plata we go on the bus Friday evening. Lawyer said she would email us and maybe we could go back to SD on Tuesday to file the paperwork and pee in a cup. Sure I said under my breath. I was angry at the delay that should have and could have easily been avoided if someone had done their job.

Went to the villa on Monday morning. What a mess! The pictures of the property on the internet are at least 5 years old. I know because the plants in the photos are now about 5 years worth of growth bigger. The gleaming white walls are not so white and aren't gleaming. The pool is black and half full of green sludgy water that turned my stomach. No power in the property, no water, cupboard doors falling off their hinges, plumbing fixtures not secured to sinks and missing handles and other hardware, the place was dirty and guess what? No air conditioning, no bath tub and a Dominican washing machine that that looks as foreign and inadequate as "I don't know what". I made a 5 page list of deficiencies and back to the rental office we go to say, "what the hell".

A fiasco in SD and now one in Sosua. I was now sure two weeks here would not be enough time and I had a really bad feeling about the future. We are moving here in just over a month! We are committed. This runaway train will stop for no one or anything.

Bless the real estate company. They took our list and insisted they would get it all fixed up. Back to our resort to wait for the lawyer. The long and short of it is that they pulled off a miracle when they and the owner made really significant improvements to the property including installing the air conditioning that was supposed to already exist, but no bath tub. We can live without a bath tub. In September, the villa had been painted, the pool was repainted and the water azul blue. The grass was cut, there was power and water, sort of. After we moved in, most of the problems that still existed were addressed. All of this happened in the future so did nothing to reduce the angst I felt in August praying that we could move forward at Migracion soon and the villa would sort itself out. I was not enjoying my cerveza as much as I should have been with these snafus hanging over my head and our time in the DR quickly slipping away.

My lawyer got sick and we waited all week to hear from her about going back to SD. Our flight home was scheduled for the following Tuesday and on Saturday the lawyer broke her silence and asked if we could come back to SD on Tuesday. No! I told her we would come to SD by bus on Sunday evening, spend Monday filing the paperwork, return to Puerto Plata Monday night and catch a plane on Tuesday morning. I was insistent she make this work or risk experiencing a display of anger she could not possibly fathom. She was not pleased with my tone. This was just great!

Got back to SD checked into the hotel again, ate dinner went to sleep. 9 am the next morning the lawyer calls, she is on her way to collect us. I was told I needed to wear long pants. I hadn't brought long pants with me as our suitcases were back in POP and we only had a small overnight bag with us. Sh&t! Somebody was not doing their job again and the smallest of details was allowed to become a big problem unnecessarily. Off to a store to buy some pants I go. Mission accomplished. No tailor available that early in the morning and I had no time to wait around, so I rolled up the cuffs and it was off to Migracion, finally. After 4 hours there, we had our pictures and fingerprints taken again. That was all we managed to get accomplished. The file was not complete and not ready to be submitted. We knew the medicals that were supposed to have happened already are still needed before we can finish up the process. Guess what, we'll have to come back for a 3rd time.

Back to POP and the flight home. Back in Ottawa, I was dejected. Nothing in the preceding two weeks had gone anywhere near as well as I had hoped and I could not cross anything off my lengthy list of tasks to be completed before Sept.

Heard from the lawyer, the week after we arrived in the DR for good, we would go back to SD for our medicals and to pee in a cup. The movers came and took our stuff. The new tenants paid their first months' rent and were to move in the day after we left. The house in Canada had been painted, the carpeting changed, the cleaning done and all the utilities had been told not to contact me ever again. I had money, clothes, a few essential items we would need immediately upon arrival and we left Canada for the last time. First time in a very long time that I only had a one way ticket anywhere.

The villa was habitable. I got some bottled water, some food and some beer. I sat down to de-stress. That took a very long time to accomplish. Over the next few days, we had to buy a water cooler. I couldn't chill bottled water fast enough for the rate that we were consuming it. I had to buy some pots and pans. We have lots of everything in our stuff coming from Canada, but the pans here were gross. I am still cooking complete meals with one big pot, one small pot and one frying pan. We had adapted and are making it work.

Back to SD we go. Spent 4 days sitting in a hotel waiting for the call to go to Migracion. Because of an error made by Migracion (at least that's what we were told) we would not be proceeding with the residency process this trip either. More paperwork is needed. We came back to Sosua thoroughly dejected and sure we would become illegal long before we actually applied to reside here.

Three weeks later back to SD for the 4th time, and success! Pee'd in the cup and smiled for the x-rays. We were done! Now just like everyone else we wait for someone somewhere to dust off our application and decide that we have waited long enough. Our stuff from home is nearing Panama where it will be transferred to a ship heading for the DR. Don't even think about asking why Panama and not direct. I don't know and I don't care as long as it gets here.

I'm going to stop here. I wrap all this up nice and neatly tomorrow with my thoughts on what I thought I knew, what I know now and how you too can succeed despite the deliberate attempts to thwart your efforts at every turn. I want to share why it is so difficult to sometimes get Dominicans to meet you half way. I also want to offer one possible strategy that might help someone survive existing within the DR1 community. I have glossed over or omitted a lot of smaller issues that arose for the sake of brevity and while entertaining are these really are just more examples of how small things can and do sometimes surface and make you want a drink even more.

In the end, with the exception of a few disappointments and challenges, living here has been exactly as I expected it would be. Every day brings with it new lessons, insights, and sometimes even moments of joy. Expats can live here. It is not as bad as some say. Neither is it a rose garden all the time. It is, however, hot, humid, has palm trees and is anywhere but home. If your expectations are limited to these, you'll love it here. My wife does. Me, I just sigh and continue to provide a life just like home, only it's not...

Epilogue: Know thy self...Part 1

We have arrived in the Dominican Republic. We are living where we chose to live and it is our intention to stay for as long as possible. There will always be a certain set of circumstances that would necessitate a return "home". A death, a serious illness requiring ongoing specialized treatment such as cancer or a serious legal problem where the probable outcome disregards one's innocence. Everyone should have a few thousand dollars stashed somewhere it can be easily and quickly retrieved. Double wrapped in thick plastic ziplock bags and buried in a capped and sealed section of PVC pipe under your favourite palm tree in the yard comes to mind. If you gotta go, you gotta go and time may not be on your side. Have a plan to get off this rock that does not include standing in line at a DR airport to board a plane. If the authorities want you, that's where they will be looking for you. If your reason for a quick departure is not legal in nature, then pick your airport and good luck at home.

There is no magic involved in pulling off a successful international move and relocation. It does require some effort and copious amounts of factual information upon which all of your decisions will rely. First and foremost, you need to know yourself. You need to know exactly what you need to be happy, comfortable, safe and to be able to live the lifestyle your want to live. You need to know how much just such lifestyle will cost and you must be confident you can sustain these costs (which always increase over time) indefinitely. If you don't like hot weather, do not move to Dubai. Nice little town, but you will very quickly come to curse each and every sunrise and you will be miserable. If you don't like potholes, don't come to the DR as potholes are everywhere and you will deal with them daily.

Just as important as your own needs are needs and expectations of those family members you are bringing with you. If you drag a 14 year old daughter along who has not been away from friends (boyfriend) and school for longer than a week at a time, you are in for an extended period of 7734. You must take the time and devote significant effort and resources to meeting their needs even if they do not appreciate or cannot tell you what those needs will be. In my case, I know what my wife can do, what she is willing to do and she will struggle with if I don't do it for her. I know exactly what she wants and expects. Your responsibilities are the same for each member of your family. Their happiness directly equals your happiness. The reverse is equally true.

You should think and rethink every aspect of your international move regularly. If you begin to doubt the viability of the plan, STOP! Do not proceed until you are certain that your doubts have been completely alleviated. Piling more bad decisions on top of bad decisions never leads to a positive outcome in the long term.

Be realistic. Stop deluding yourself that anywhere else can be made to resemble home. It is not home, it cannot be moulded to be the same as home. Life will be different because of the very fact that the location is different. Everyone will have to adapt and adjust in many ways over time. You can make daily life similar to that you experienced at home by throwing money at any situation or bringing enough stuff with you that you do not have to change peanut butter brands for years. Eventually, you will come face to face with a situation that you cannot change, or reshape or fix. If you are not prepared to accept change or you cannot embrace change, it is probably not a good idea for you to relocate until you get your own attitude adjusted and in sync with the fundamental realities of living fulltime in a different country.

If your religious beliefs require a specific set of observances, you really should check to make sure those services can be found where you want to move to. You also need to figure out if your religious devotion to a plate of spaghetti will cause consternation within your new community. You can to a limited degree change yourself, but you cannot with any reasonable degree of certainty change the beliefs and practices of others. If you cannot ingratiate yourself with your new neighbours you will never attain the safety, and comfort that will make living anywhere possible never mind enjoyable.

Why is it so difficult to deal with some Dominicans? When dealing with grandiose generalizations, I have to first point out, this does not apply to every Dominican. As in any group of people, some are smart, some are not. Some are honest some are not. Some are good people and some are not. It doesn't matter if we are talking about a group of policemen, doctors, labourers, businessmen or vendors on the beach. Within any group there are good ones, who know their jobs and perform them well, there are those in the middle who are competent but not very energetic or accountable and there is the segment of the group who are downright nasty, criminal, incompetent and nothing good ever comes from your dealings with them.

Dominicans on the north, east and to a lesser extent on the south coasts of the DR are primarily engaged in what we would call the service industry. They spend their time making a living dealing with a group of people who for the most are only here for 7 days at a time. Sometimes 14 days. Most Dominicans know that if they stall for or wait for 7 days any problem you represent to them will most likely go away without any further effort required on their part. After years of primarily dealing with transient foreigners, many do not readily accept that the gringo standing in front of them causing them grief is not going to disappear in a few days. As such, to avoid giving a refund, or exchanging defective merchandise or providing a better hotel room, they fall back on what has always worked in the past, do nothing, claim it will take three weeks to change or get a replacement part or product or simply state there is nothing they "can" do. "Can" usually = "want to".

In these situations, it has been my experience, that once the person to whom you are requesting redress is made to understand that you live here, will not be going away and are determined to present this problem for their consideration on an ongoing basis, a resolution is quickly proposed. Not always, but usually. Not everybody actually cares about you and your issue and this reflects back to the concept that in any group some are just not nice people. If as you reach into your wallet to produce a receipt at the beginning of a conversation and the person to whom you will be speaking can see a cedula with your picture on it, even before you open your mouth, chances are that the conversation you are about to have will end much sooner than it would have otherwise.

Here in the DR the general education level of the population is not all that high. Since it is hard for Dominicans to travel anywhere without obtaining a visa first, many have never left home. Their understanding of cause and effect relationships are limited. Don't eat for a day and you get hungry. Drive as fast as possible get there sooner. Rip off a gringo and they will soon leave and you are free to do it again to someone else with apparent impunity. What we as residents can do to help each other is to begin to demonstrate that cause and effect can have a much larger impact on a local's business, or ability to eat. We need in our dealings with locals who offer substandard service to offer a learning experience. Many locals may not appreciate a threat to tell others on an internet forum not to do business somewhere initially, but if enough people passing by tell the owner that they heard not nice things about their business and while you really like that <insert good or service here> that they offer, you are hesitant to do business with them because of what happened to someone else, the business owner will eventually get the message. Conversely, if you tell an owner you are here to do business because one of their customers has said really good things about their service or craftsmanship, Dominicans do learn that it is in their best interests to keep the foreign residents as happy as possible.

Epilogue: Know thy self...Part 2

The internet can be your best or your worst resource for information. It all depends on understanding a few simple principles and following a few standard practices.

First and foremost, the internet lies. Just because you find the etchings of someone who has taken the time to make them available, does not necessarily mean the information is true. Most of the information that one comes across was written a long time ago and the situation or circumstances may no longer be as they were then. Be sure you can determine who wrote what, when it was written and you are able to determine if the site you are reading is really a authoritative site or if it is a front for someone trying to sell you something. Often the information presented is written to entice you to learn more after opening your wallet. All such information presented in this manner should probably be discounted in its entirety.

Forums, are places where people with experience or knowledge on a particular subject hang out and offer their unbiased, totally accurate and always unfettered wisdom to all who bother to listen. Sure they are! All forums can and should be treated just like any other group of people. There is the good, the bad and the ugly. DR1.COM is no exception. This is the Expat forum I have to most hands on experience with so I use it as a general example representative of any other internet forum on any topic.

I don't know how many registered users DR1 has. I suppose there are lots. Comprising this list of users are those who post a lot, those who post less frequently and those who post very infrequently if at all. The number of posts made a person is not a good indicator of the veracity of what they have to say. Someone's second post may be far more factual and useful than someone who has 8000 posts under their belt. All a posting total is good for is determining just how much time someone spends banging away on a keyboard.

When you need information on the Dominican Republic, I think DR1 is as good a place as any to come to find it. You, however, have to filter everything you read. Keep your questions simple and direct. Make it easy to receive a reply that is honest and fact based, not one that calls for a conclusion on the part of the author. At no time should you ever ask someone you do not know to make value judgments on your behalf. "Should I marry so and so I met while on vacation in Punta Cana", is just asking for more grief than useful information.

Trolls are people who live on the internet and take great delight in being as negative, condescending and unhelpful as possible. Do not feed the trolls. When you ask a question, read all the answers and refrain from engaging with someone who is obviously attempting to draw you into a protracted discussion. You asked a question, you received some number of replies, you are done. If you ask if the cost of beer is expensive in the DR and 15 people say no its cheaper than home, 5 people say yes it is and 1 person says no it's free to all those who ask for it if you know the secret word; you need to apply common sense when interpreting the responses.

In this example, the cost of beer is generally cheaper than at home. That is true. It is supported by the fact that the vast majority of the replies say the same thing. The five people who say that is expensive are probably people that don't have enough discretionary income to consume all the beer they would like and their frame of reference could be different than yours. The 1 person claiming it is free is a troll just itching for you to ask them how you too can get free beer. Don't take the bait.

On DR1 there is a core group of posters of which I guess I can now be considered a member, who post all the time. For me, I am using DR1 as a social activity. Before I arrived here I was using it for research and information. I still use it for information and there is a wealth of valuable information and sage advice to be had here. Until you get to know the players, you just have to be careful what you accept as the undisputed truth on any subject. This is the same on any site on the internet. Only you know you and not everyone has your best interests at heart.

So in conclusion. I like the DR. I enjoy living here and I look forward to meeting more people as times goes on. I enjoy and accept the challenge of learning to speak Spanish. If you live here, it is a simple truth that sooner or later you will have to be able to ask for something in Spanish. You cannot live here as a unilingual Englishman, German, Russian or someone who only speaks Swahili. Not prepared to learn another language or at least the fundamentals, go to Belize.

Foreigners can and many do come to live here. I cannot recommend you do so without formally applying for residency. That would be illegal and even though it is currently possible to live here without formal status, that may not always be the case and doing so does nothing to secure your future here and all the preparations you have made to get this far.

Be very careful about buying property when you get here if you do not already have significant experience living in this island. I was a homeowner at home and it was my preference to own my casa here so that I was not subjected to the unfamiliarity of being a tenant and depending on someone else who may not share my values or expectations with respect to decent accommodations or maintenance. Just like my initial presumptions of living on an island and dealing with hurricanes changed over time; I quickly learned that being a tenant, at least for me, is a much more appealing and practical approach than owning property. One can always move if a change of scenery is needed or you can't stand your neighbours. This is not so easy when a large chunk of your available assets are tied up in a house that you are having difficulty selling. I have yet to hear of someone listing their house on the market and within three months having sold it without taking a financial bath. I guess it has happened and could happen in the future, it's just not very common. It often takes more than a year for just the right buyer to wander through your Dominican oasis and make an acceptable offer.

If you know thy self, if you plan carefully, if your families expectations are realistic and accepting of change and if you can embrace such change and a different way of living without knowing exactly what that is going to be like day to day, then come on down. If you are a multimillionaire and can spend your way to happiness you'll be just fine. If you are not absolutely positive that you can provide for yourself, if you do not qualify to live in the country legally, if you do not have a good idea of what to expect and what you are going to do when you step off the plane, then maybe the timing or this country is not right for you.

You are the master of your own destiny. The maker of your own luck and the keeper of your family. No matter where you want to go or where you end up, there is a right way and many wrong ways to get there. You, yourself, are the secret to success. You will flourish or flounder based on your own preparation and actions. Know thy self and wipe away those glossy thoughts of palm trees, sparkling blue water and the concept of paradise. Paradise exists in the Bible, not on this planet as a complete package. Don't expect it, and you won't be disappointed.

Thanks for reading though all this. Good luck and I look forward to meeting all of you someday, sometime, somewhere.