Expat Philosophy

By the time the month of June rolls around, I will have lived as an expatriate for nine years. I have no regrets and will likely end my life living quite far away from the land where I was born: Canada. Why would any sane person want to abandon what is said by many to be the best country in the world? One word immediately comes to mind: cold. Canada is also the coldest country on earth, even colder than Russia. It’s not the only reason for my exile, but as one Canadian who spent every rainy cold autumn dreading winter, every never ending frigid winter waiting desperately for spring, every cool spring wishing for summer, and every brief, bug infested summer hoping against hope it would stick around just a bit longer, leaving was salvation!

My escape started in Cozumel, Mexico, then Argentina, followed by the Canary Islands, then Argentina again, then a stint in Mauritius, and finally ending-up, to my greatest surprise, in Colombia, where I’ve now been for two and a half years. I should admit I had a brief relapse after the Canaries, briefly returning to settle in my native Montreal, only to flee as autumn chilled my spirits. A lot has happened during these nine years, including a lot of invaluable experiences in living on this beautiful spinning orb. I’m not a millionaire, nor retired, yet I’ve lived an idyllic life, including years by the sea. More importantly, I’ve only been reacquainted with snow and cold ever so briefly on my mandatory trips back to the north country.

The first rule of an expat is to leave your culture behind and adopt that of your host country, or at least try to. I would never attempt to live in a land where I didn’t speak the language, as it would be extremely difficult to achieve a true connection and understanding of the local customs. Thus my fluency in French and Spanish has served me well. I would be lying if I told you I have never been called “gringo de m…”, but this was more the result of the domestic residents’ prejudice against foreigners, than any abrasive behavior on my part. However, by not responding in kind, I won their respect, if not their lasting friendship. You have to understand that in a lot places in the world they haven’t had a lot of exposure to people not their own, or have had rather negative experiences with tourists who may not have respected the local mores. For instance, a frighteningly high percentage of visitors to Colombia come as sex tourists, or come for the cheap drugs, or both. It’s not easy for them to shake off the perceptions that all gringos are twisted!

What stops many more people from doing what I did is the misconception that their life will be in danger in a foreign land. In over two years living in Medellin, the city made famous by Pablo Escobar, I cannot cite a single incident where I’ve felt remotely threatened. Again, I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I said absolutely nothing bad had happened while living abroad, but none of the events resulted in any harm being done to myself or my loved ones. Let’s start with Colombia: although nothing happened to me, as I mentioned, a young entrepreneur I befriended was murdered about 6 months ago in what appeared to be a premeditated execution at one of his businesses. About a year ago, assassins also ended the life of my better half’s uncle, a lawyer in a smaller city that I never got to meet. These are the only people that I’ve ever had any kind of relationship with and that were murder victims.

In Mauritius, thieves broke into our townhouse at night while we were home, taking flight with my wife’s laptop computer which had been imprudently left on the kitchen table. After this incident, I discovered that virtually all the expats in our neighborhood had their homes broken into, some as many as five times. On a visit to Rio de Janeiro, my girlfriend from that epoch and I had barely left the restaurant where we had dinner when we were immediately swarmed by favela (slum) kids. We managed to hop into a taxi, with the street urchins in hot pursuit. The only other incident happened recently, when thieves attempted, but failed, to rob me when I walked alone in Buenos Aires, in broad daylight.

Most of these incidents resulted from errors which could have been avoided by following a few simple rules: don’t walk at night; avoid walking alone anytime; don’t leave valuables where they can be seen. The biggest robbery I ever suffered actually happened while I was on a brief visit to Canada this past summer: someone cloned my credit card and tagged me for about 2300 USD in gasoline (what did they have, a tanker?). In other words, the possibility of being a victim of crime is directly proportional to the level of caution you exercise, not so much the country where you find yourself. Plus, there’s always cities and towns where the local traditions are strong and crime virtually unknown. I found myself living in one such place, Esperanza, a town of 45,000 in Santa Fe province, Argentina, where you could walk safely at any hour and street beggars are nowhere to be seen.

Another concern many will have is for their health. While there’s no denying it’s hard to get better medical attention than in first world countries, it’s a myth that quality health care is hard to find in the rest of the world. True, the public hospital system in the developing world is often poorly run, but pick any city and you’ll find top notch private medical facilities. I’ve been well attended to the few times I required it, and for a fraction of what it would have cost in the US. Living in warm climates, however, does carry the risk of infection from a host of diseases you wouldn’t likely encounter back home. In Cozumel, Mexico, I suffered a year from giardia, which left me gaunt and weak and finally forced to seek a new home elsewhere. In Argentina, I could never get rid of “forunculos”, ugly welts on one’s backside caused by bacteria, and in Colombia I only recently managed to control the constant nuisance of an amoeba infection. There’s much worse diseases than these, of course, and if your health is frail, perhaps expat living isn’t for you.

Year round fine weather has its price too, as it sometimes takes an extreme turn, albeit briefly. In 2002, I’d run from an incoming hurricane in Cozumel, kids in tow, catching the last ferry, only to find out the storm had spun around at the last moment and landed further south. Not tempting fate is another expat motto, as a few years later a category 5 hurricane leveled Cozumel. Later on, in 2003, I unknowingly dodged one of the worst floods in Argentina’s history. A gutsy tax driver had found the last road out of Santa Fe that wasn’t yet blocked-off by slum dwellers burning tires and attacking vehicles (a daily occurrence). I’ll never forget the indigenous mother, baby in arms, rushing in an attempt to cut our path! One hour later, the city was almost completely flooded and cut-off from the outside world. Four years later, I wasn’t so lucky, and spent two weeks unable to leave Esperanza, completely inundated by days of non-stop torrential rains and hail. My future bride and I actually had our world limited to a single city block during an entire week. Medellin, my current home, is prone to earth movements, but I’m happy to report that apart from frequent “mini shakes”, I haven’t added quakes to my experiences!

The day to day living outside of North America made me realize how spoiled and vain we are. A dishwasher isn’t only a luxury, it’s seen as unnecessary. A clothes dryer is the sun, and hot water, percolated by a small gas or electrical heater, is usually only hooked-up to the shower. The stove is a basic gas one. Using air conditioning is unthinkable, despite the stifling heat, thanks to the expensive utilities. Owning a tiny car makes you privileged. The grocery cart contains no canned goods, save perhaps a tin or two of tuna, and definitely no frozen foods unless it’s sea food. Cooking the local specialties at home is merely normal, while going to the restaurant is a rare treat. Living without the frills soon becomes normal. There’s more important things in life.

Family seems to be placed above everything else in many of my adopted lands. Families are big and extended and not dysfunctional! Everybody in the family is cherished, including cousins, uncles and aunts, as well as the newly added members such as I. Friends and lovers are also valued, but can never stand in the way of the family! I admit making new exotic friends wasn’t always easy. My tendency in Cozumel, the Canaries and Mauritius, I’m ashamed to say, was to bond with others in the large expat communities. A lot of these expats are fabulous characters, far from boring, not surprisingly. There were a lot of casual relationships with friendly locals, of course, but I don’t think I’d call them all friends. It was different in Argentina and here, in Colombia, because the expats are few or non-existent in the areas where I’ve lived, thus befriending the local gentry is often the social only option.

A serial expat like myself, is one who changes countries more often than most people change their hairstyles! It’s perhaps not the choice of most expatriates, since changing countries isn’t like moving within the same borders, as you invariably leave everything behind and start from zero when you arrive at your new host country. Some tourist destinations with lots of European expats, such as Tenerife or Mauritius, have no shortage of reasonable furnished rentals, but generally speaking the apartment or house you rent will be as bare as a nudist! I’ve sold or given away mounds of furniture, appliances, and housewares several times already. I could have bought a couple of houses with the money I threw away, but then again, if I’m never going to be in one place too long, what am I going to do with property in a far away land? If this isn’t your bag, then pick your future country well before packing-up!

Winter? A white Christmas? Not for me, thanks!

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