Travel
Nine Years of Living Abroad…Am I Nuts?
Apr 25th
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 my 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 worry many potential expats 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 me 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.
Fine weather that lasts all year has its price, as it sometimes can take 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!
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.
One’s 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 only social 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!
Maybe I’m nuts, but at least I’m a happy nut!
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Argentina’s New Tourist Tax Targets Canada, Australia, and USA
Mar 22nd
As a result of yet another ill-timed law passed by Cristina Kirchner’s government, travelers visiting from Canada, the US and Australia are now required to pay a tourist tax upon arrival in Argentina. The law went into effect late in December, 2009, and has raised grave concerns from the Argentinean tourist industry, already reeling from the effects of the last recession.
Photo courtesy of Brian Lary
US citizens are asked to pay 138 USD for the right of entry. Although the fee is collected once during the lifetime of your passport, this isn’t a visa, and it isn’t clear how it is tracked by Argentinean authorities. Meanwhile, Canadians will be the hardest hit, since they have to forfeit seventy US dollars each time they disembark in Argentina. Australians are bilked for 100 USD. The amounts can be paid in US currency or the equivalent in Argentinean pesos. Note that this new tax is in addition to the departure tax you have to pay upon leaving. If you have dual Argentinean citizenship, then you’re exempt from paying the new tax.
The explanation given by the government for this new policy is that it’s an act of reciprocity for the costly and complicated process imposed on their own citizens when they apply for a visa to one of the three countries. Brazil was one of the first to impose reciprocity several years ago, although I should point-out that what you get is a real visa, good for five years. It’s absolutely true that Argentineans are discriminated against by several economically rich countries, and the fees they’re charged for their application isn’t refunded if it’s refused. I agree this is unjust, but on the other hand, before the 2001 economic meltdown in Argentina, visas weren’t required of them – this changed when the flow of illegal immigrants from Argentina became an exodus of millions.
The real concern here isn’t whether this policy is justified, but what effect it will have on the already battered economy, where tourism is one of the most important sources of growth and foreign income. If you read the postings on this subject in online forums, you get a definite sense that the sector will take a big hit, judging from the virulent reactions of would be travelers to Argentina. If an American family of four was planning to go to Buenos Aires for a once in a lifetime vacation, they might reconsider upon discovering that their tab just went up by 552 dollars.
This tax will also have a negative impact on neighboring countries, particularly Uruguay. Many combine their visit to Uruguay with Argentina, typically landing in Buenos Aires, then traveling by Buquebus to Colonia or Montevideo. If you’re a Canadian, are you going to visit any neighboring countries knowing that you’ll be tagged for yet another 70 dollars upon returning to Argentina? The same problem arises for Canadians living in Argentina who have to renew their 3 month tourist visa, typically by crossing over to Uruguay for a brief visit. That, my friends is at least 280 dollars a year!
Currently, the tax is only collected in Ezeiza airport (Buenos Aires), probably because they haven’t fully worked-out the logistics of collecting the fees country-wide, but their plan is to extend it to all entry points, be it by land, air or water. The Kirchner administration predicts it will collect forty million dollars a year from this tax, but that is probably very optimistic in view of the dampening effect it will have. More importantly, the tourism industry will lose ten times that, thus making it a net tax revenue loss.
The Kirchners are almost guaranteed to be voted-out in the next presidential elections, so we can only hope that the next government reverts this law.
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The Medical Tourism Check-Up
Mar 22nd
There’s an old story still going around about doctors in poor countries re-using syringes and even bandages. It’s a myth. If it ever did happen, it was in some remote outpost, and even then I would still doubt it. Fact is, medical schools in large cities across the developing world turn-out highly skilled doctors and the facilities they work in are often as good as in any in the developed world. The major difference is in what it costs to be treated by these doctors and those hospitals: a fraction of what it does in the United States. Furthermore, the cost of medications is also vastly less than in the US, and can usually be bought without a prescription.
Photo courtesy of Fernando Audibert
It’s no surprise, therefore, that medical tourism is all the rage, especially in areas usually not covered by insurance plans, such as plastic surgery. Flip through the pages of the on-flight magazine on any plane bound for Buenos Aires and you’ll notice the abundance of ads by state of the art plastic surgery clinics. Learn to dance tango and get a face lift! Just how big is the cost difference? A heart bypass surgery invoice for 140,000 USD in the USA might only be 20,000 in Mexico, 10,000 in India, or 9,000 in Thailand. A face lift would set you back 15,000 dollars in America, while only 6,500 in Costa Rica, or 5,000 in South Korea. Even after you factor-in your return airfare, hotel, food and the rest, you still come out ahead and you get to spend time in an exotic locale!
Medical insurance is also generally less expensive and more generous in its coverage than in most developed nations that don’t provide universal medicare. There’s usually a free government-run public insurance plan, but it’s almost guaranteed to include the lowest level of care. Instead, if you’re gainfully employed in your new country, get hooked-up with your employer’s health plan, which will be inexpensive and offer complete coverage. For example, Sura, a health insurer in Colombia offers a plan through employers which covers even medications and dental work for as little as 40 dollars a month for the entire family of the insured. There’s usually a small user fee for each service performed, but it rarely amounts to more than a dollar. There’s also private insurance plans which are much more costly (but still less than in the US) but will give you priority care (no waiting!) in the top hospitals and clinics.
Why does medical care and medicine cost so little in developing countries? First and foremost, because the cost of living and wages are much lower, but also because malpractice insurance isn’t a requirement or is inexpensive since patients aren’t as likely to litigate, and finally because the medical industry’s profits aren’t so hefty and protected by lawmakers greased by lobbyists. Just to mention a couple of advantages for the user: generic versions of drugs are more freely produced and distributed, and experimental treatments are readily obtained as they aren’t blocked by laws.
However, the lure of cheap medication and surgery comes with a warning label: Stick to the reputable clinics, many of which cater in large part to medical tourists, and don’t get your drugs from just any dispensary, lest you want to run the risk of a botched operation or ingesting bogus medicine.
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Quick Guide to Montevideo
Mar 22nd
La Rambla
South Americans often refer to Uruguay, that small country sandwiched between giants Argentina and Brazil, as the “first world of the third world“. I don’t share that opinion as you can plainly see there’s still far too many people living in extreme poverty in this country, but it is, de facto, the most stable democracy on this continent.
Just last week I made my way from Santa Fe, Argentina, to Montevideo, Uruguay’s capital and biggest city. I had visited Uruguay before, a few years earlier, but I had limited myself to Punta del Este, the country’s premier vacation destination, and Colonia, a well-preserved colonial city. Travelers often overlook Montevideo as it’s not a very touristic city, but it appears to be on the verge of a renaissance, finally recognizing the potential of its vast historic district, the “ciudad vieja”, in the port area. Countless old buildings are being renovated and new pedestrian malls are being created. Not too long in the future, this part of town could become as popular as Buenos Aires’ fabled San Telmo.
For now, Montevideo’s downtown is rather gritty, almost every building and monument suffering the indignity of ugly graffiti, and its streets are populated by a large number of beggars. The avenida 18 de Julio, the main commercial street, reminds me of avenida Santa Fe in Buenos Aires. Its sidewalks are bustling with activity during the day, but as soon as night falls, it transforms into a lifeless landscape. Locals warn you not to walk the streets at night, but that’s good advice anywhere in Latin America, not just here.
While Montevideo may at first appear as a kind of mini Buenos Aires, comparisons quickly end when you discover it has a large number of white sand beaches stretching eastward from just outside the port at Pocitos, as well as a coastal walkway that seems to go on forever. The salty water lapping the shore here is milky brown, as it’s still the river Plate (rio Plata) loaded with mud and sediment from sources deep inside South America, but local authorities certify that its safe to bathe. With its long rows of apartment buildings facing the Rambla (the coastal road), some beaches are reminiscent of Rio de Janeiro’s Copacabana, minus the mountains. Curiously, there’s virtually no shops or restaurants along the Rambla. You’ll find those usually a couple of blocks in.
One of the aspects of Montevideo, and Uruguay in general, that can be considered “first world” are its prices. Things are more expensive here when compared to other south American nations, and even more so if you rely on the US dollar, which has fallen from 24 Pesos per dollar to just over 19 in the last year. Wages, however, are only slightly higher than in other South American countries.
Quick Facts:
La Puerta
Language: Castilian Spanish, virtually identical to that of Argentina.
Electricity: 220 volts. 2 round peg sockets or 2 slanted plus 1 vertical (same as Argentina).
Meals: Expect to spend at least 200 pesos (10 USD) per person for an ordinary meal. Cuisine is almost identical to Argentina’s. The national dish is the “chivito”, which can be as simple as a piece of steak or as crazy as a huge stack of wildly different items inside a hamburger bun.
Taxis: taxi meters don’t display the fare, but rather a number that has to be looked-up in a table (“tabla de tarifas”) in order to determine the cost. Taxis must have the table displayed in the passenger compartment. If one doesn’t, you might want to wait for one that does. A typical medium distance fare, say from downtown to Pocitos, would be around 5 dollars (100 pesos). Fares are about 25% higher at night (different table).
Public Transportation: There’s no subway, just buses, which are modern and cheap: fare is 17 pesos.
Cheap hotels: There’s plenty of hostels, but if you want a room with private bath, it’s more economical to stay at a hotel downtown, for rates as low as 45 USD per night.
Getting there: Direct, long distance flights to Montevideo are a rarity. Most travelers prefer to combine a visit to Uruguay with Argentina, typically crossing the river Plate from Buenos Aires in Buquebus, the high speed ferry service (about 90 dollars per person) if you book early.
ATMs: More like Brazil, where few ATMs support foreign debit cards. If your provider’s logo doesn’t appear on the list (say Cirrus,Plus or Maestro), find another machine. ATMs typically dispense Uruguayan pesos and dollars.
Internet: Most restaurants have free wi-fi, and do most hotels and hostels.
International calls: There are a few calling centers, but be forewarned that long distance calls are very expensive, as are calls to local cell phones. You might want to use Internet telephony, say Skype, if the wi-fi bandwidth is good enough where you connect.
Apartment rentals: If you’re planning to live here, the best areas are along the Rambla, from Pocitos to Carrasco, the latter being far more expensive. Rents are higher than in many similar sized North American cities. A very ordinary one bedroom apartment would rent for 500 dollars, while a 2 bedroom would set you back about 700 USD a month. Rents are almost always quoted in dollars and sometimes even paid in that currency. Shared costs, such as heat and water and condo fees are typically charged separately. Unlike Argentina, you don’t require guarantors, just documents proving you have sufficient income (bank statements, letter from employer), but you have to post a monetary guarantee equal to five months’ rent. These funds are placed in a special bank account which both you and the owner must sign for to withdraw funds from at the end of the lease. Rentals usually include no appliances at all except a small water heater. A few furnished apartments can be had, but for more money.
Tipping: Most Uruguayans aren’t good tippers, but as a foreigner you should remember that people here earn only a fraction of what they would in the first world (the real one), and be more generous!
Tourist Traps: There really isn’t any, but prices do seem excessively high in the port market (mercado del puerto), since Anthony Bourdain featured its eateries on his TV show.
Entertainment: No specific entertainment area, although there’s a few discotheques in Pocitos and a handful of bar/restaurants that stay open at night on the Sarandi pedestrian mall. Best way to find live entertainment venues is via the local newspapers. Carnival period lasts virtually all of February. Movies are generally subtitled rather than dubbed. Matinees cost about 5 USD per ticket. There’s an opera near Independence Square, the Solis theater.
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Beware of the Buenos Aires Mustard Squirters!
Mar 22nd
Plaza del Congreso
I had visited one of my favorite cities, Buenos Aires, dozens of times before without incident, but this particular trip at the end of February, 2010 was to prove different. Barely had I left my hotel to venture out in the Plaza del Congreso, a small backpack containing my laptop computer and digital camera slung over one shoulder, that some band of miscreants attempted to turn my holiday into a fiasco. Suspect number one, a young man, approached me in the middle of the square and asked me for the time, oblivious to the obvious fact that I’m not wearing anything on either wrist. I shrugged and continued walking at my usual rapid pace. A little further ahead I noticed the same fellow running by my side and then turning away.
A few more steps and a very old man taps me on the shoulder and tells me I have something on my back. I stop and reach behind me, touching my lower back and looking at my hand, now smeared in bright white paint. What the…? I didn’t go anywhere near any painted surface and the many pigeons in the vicinity don’t typically poop paint. An instant later an elderly woman appears on the scene proffering tissues to clean the offending material off my person. I tell her “no thank you”, which is when their little plan began to unravel. That, and a passerby who told me “Beware, that’s how they rob you”. I then glanced over and saw both elderly phony Samaritans standing together, looking like deer caught in the headlights.
I quickly returned to my hotel, furious that I had almost been mugged. The only other time something like this had happened, and I had also had managed to escape any loss, was when street urchins accosted a girlfriend and I on the streets of Rio de Janeiro. After changing out of my clothes, which had a white streak from top to bottom, I returned to the square in an attempt to identify the thieves to the police. However, none of the many federal policemen in the area would accompany me and after milling around in the park for about 15 minutes and seeing that the culprits were nowhere to be seen, I gave up waiting for the phantom foot patrol the other cops had supposedly radioed.
After speaking to a fair number of people living here, it became evident that the robbers’ scheme is a popular one in this city, although they typically squirt you with mustard rather than paint. I’m certain now that the lad who asked me for the time was the one who “marked” me (as I mentioned, I walk fast), and the two seniors attempted to distract me, which would have resulted, had they been successful, in my backpack or wallet, or both, being lifted. I was targeted because I was alone, as such a scheme could not work if the victim was accompanied.
The “helpful citizen” distraction scheme comes in many different forms, this being just one of them. Sadly, you have to be suspicious of anyone offering help you didn’t ask for.
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