It's been a while since my last post. I just haven't been inspired to write anything.
I started this blog 3 and half years ago. The purpose was three fold: stay in touch with my friends and family, document in real time the trials and travails of relocating to a 3rd World country, and entertain.
Most of my friends and family read the blog for a while, then dropped off. A couple of you, you know who you are, have continued to read. Thank you!
I did document the process of moving and getting established in a foreign land. I was tired of reading books authored several years after their relocation process. This sanitized and romanticized the move. I wanted people to see what it is really like. No bullshit. Straight talk, unedited and in-the-moment. Hopefully, this has helped some in their decision to relocate.
And the entertaining part...you have to answer that for yourself.
Now, most of the challenges and problems have been solved. Or our lives have been normalized to the effort required to do the simple things that are now difficult to do. Maybe we expect things to take longer, require multiple trips for anything, and nothing gets done as quickly as before.
I am running out of stuff to write about.
I feel this blog is complete. It has served it's purpose.
I will miss it. Most of the time it is like a good friend, coxing conversation out of me, on my mind about what will make good entertainment. I look upon the blog with fondness, kind of like family.
I will miss it.
But it is time to put it to bed.
A few final thoughts...
The first year was wickedly difficult. Un-spoiling the American Brat, putting the Type "A" personality through treatment for the "Get-Er-Done" syndrome which has no place in a Latin culture, making new friends, learning a new culture. And letting go of a wonderful life in Colorado.
All in all, a rough first year.
But, it was worth it. We love it here. The ability to retire early while we are young enough to be active, the unworldly natural beauty, amazing culture and people, an extraordinary group of gringos, opportunity to "reinvent" yourself...where else would I have gotten to be the male lead in a play or learn how to play screaming rock n roll lead, and e-x-h-a-l-e a-n-d r-e-l-a-x.
Yes, I miss my family and friends, for sure, especially our grandchildren. We are missing much of their growing up. Skype helps. The Internet is the most amazing tool to stay in touch with home.
But we love it here!
So it is time to say "Good Bye".
You have provided so much for me. Your time reading this blog has been generous and expansive. I don't take this gift lightly.
Thank you!
Hasta Luego, mi Amigo!!!
Monday, August 20, 2012
Friday, July 27, 2012
A Roller Coaster Ride
I just wrote a angry, pissed off blog and deleted it.
I couldn't help it. I wanted to strike out at something.
But in the end, I thought it was unfair so I deleted it.
This trip has been tumultuous.
Is this the nature of Big Business? When 10's of millions are on the table, do emotions have to run high?
Probably.
One thing is for sure, people act the same whether they are three years old in the sandbox or 50 years old in business.
No difference, I think.
Events this week have gone from magnificent to awful.
The end result is one happy client. He told us that he has gone through this procedure many times and that this was the best he has experienced.
So the brain damage has resulted in a successful trip.
I made it until this morning unscathed. Many of my co-partners is this venture have been through hell and gone but I avoided it until today.
In a panicked situation, I was asked to prepare a presentation. Three of us worked hard and fast and got it done. When I arrived this morning to deliver the presentation, I was told that someone else was going to do it.
I HATE to waist time! I HATE to have my time waisted. I especially HATE to work in panic for not.
I will get over it but I learned a lesson. Don't buy into the panic emanating from someone else.
I have to ask myself, "do these multi-million dollar projects have to go through this? Or is there another way?"
I think yes but what do I know.
Well, back home tomorrow.
Sanity is around the corner.
I couldn't help it. I wanted to strike out at something.
But in the end, I thought it was unfair so I deleted it.
This trip has been tumultuous.
Is this the nature of Big Business? When 10's of millions are on the table, do emotions have to run high?
Probably.
One thing is for sure, people act the same whether they are three years old in the sandbox or 50 years old in business.
No difference, I think.
Events this week have gone from magnificent to awful.
The end result is one happy client. He told us that he has gone through this procedure many times and that this was the best he has experienced.
So the brain damage has resulted in a successful trip.
I made it until this morning unscathed. Many of my co-partners is this venture have been through hell and gone but I avoided it until today.
In a panicked situation, I was asked to prepare a presentation. Three of us worked hard and fast and got it done. When I arrived this morning to deliver the presentation, I was told that someone else was going to do it.
I HATE to waist time! I HATE to have my time waisted. I especially HATE to work in panic for not.
I will get over it but I learned a lesson. Don't buy into the panic emanating from someone else.
I have to ask myself, "do these multi-million dollar projects have to go through this? Or is there another way?"
I think yes but what do I know.
Well, back home tomorrow.
Sanity is around the corner.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
A Couple of Colombian Quirks
If you want to be treated right in Colombia, grab a cane or wheelchair.
People will jump up, open doors, pull out chairs and anything else to help you if you are disabled in some way.
I was sitting at a sidewalk cafe, bundled up in a long sleeve shirt and light jacket because it is chilly at 8500 feet in the tropics. This was a packed little cafe with small round tables and 3 light chairs around the table.
Up rolls an old lady in an electric chair.
The waiter and 2 patrons start to clear a path for her to get her to a table, through the dense forest of chairs. Then they help her damn dog down off the electric chair and hook the leash to the table for her.
It doesn't stop with the disabled.
Three young teenage girls arrive on in-line roller skates. Completely out of control, banging into seated patrons, chairs and tables.
Same thing. The waiter rushes over to help.
Being teenage girls, they are up, down, up, down, up, down. Each time the process is repeated.
With my US ways, I'm miffed! Damn it! Sit down! And stay put!
I ordered a salad and no drink. Kind of unusual. The waiter doesn't say anything, not that I could understand his Spanish anyway.
I finish my salad, ask for the bill, pay with a credit card.
Only then does the waiter ask about not ordering a drink. Not to chide me or sell something extra.
He was concerned that I was having a problem and wanted to help.
The Land of Courtesy! Very charming.
We sophisticated, have-the-best-of-everything US citizens should pay close attention.
It really is a great way to relate and live.
People will jump up, open doors, pull out chairs and anything else to help you if you are disabled in some way.
I was sitting at a sidewalk cafe, bundled up in a long sleeve shirt and light jacket because it is chilly at 8500 feet in the tropics. This was a packed little cafe with small round tables and 3 light chairs around the table.
Up rolls an old lady in an electric chair.
The waiter and 2 patrons start to clear a path for her to get her to a table, through the dense forest of chairs. Then they help her damn dog down off the electric chair and hook the leash to the table for her.
It doesn't stop with the disabled.
Three young teenage girls arrive on in-line roller skates. Completely out of control, banging into seated patrons, chairs and tables.
Same thing. The waiter rushes over to help.
Being teenage girls, they are up, down, up, down, up, down. Each time the process is repeated.
With my US ways, I'm miffed! Damn it! Sit down! And stay put!
I ordered a salad and no drink. Kind of unusual. The waiter doesn't say anything, not that I could understand his Spanish anyway.
I finish my salad, ask for the bill, pay with a credit card.
Only then does the waiter ask about not ordering a drink. Not to chide me or sell something extra.
He was concerned that I was having a problem and wanted to help.
The Land of Courtesy! Very charming.
We sophisticated, have-the-best-of-everything US citizens should pay close attention.
It really is a great way to relate and live.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Colombian Fair
One of my Colombian partner's took us to the Bogota Fair...similar to a state fair. Bogota is a huge city of 8.5 million.
As you can imagine, this was a massive event. We had trouble finding parking, naturally.
It was full of the same type of booths that you see in the US except they sold different stuff, mainly hats.
These were HATS. They were woven of thin tan and brown straw with intricate designs and large, wide brims. And you could roll or fold them into any shape you want so they could be stored in your pocket or whatever. The hats bounced back into shape when unrolled...like magic. They are water proof...a working rancher and farmer's hat.
They also had a woven hat band, made right there on the spot. Another of our Colombian partners bought a hat and he wanted a feather in the band, which they didn't have. He is a gringo and has gringo tastes, thus no feather. He was told to return tomorrow and, by God, they would find a feather.
Got to love Latin accommodation!
They weren't cheap. Good ones cost about $70.
As we walked through the fair, with tens of thousands of people, our Colombian partner was greeted by people every step of the way. It seemed like he was known by EVERYONE. It took a l-o-n-g time to traverse the fair!
He and his father are actually known world-wide in the ranching and cattle industry.
We eventually ended up by an arena where his father was showing his cattle and winning awards. And, of course, buying and selling cattle.
His father was greeted by more people than the son. As we sat in the stands, a constant parade of people climbed the bleachers to greet his dad.
His dad looked 50 years old and was 70. He had a jolly, pleasant face with a constant smile. I could see why he was popular.
But that is not all the story.
His dad was also a prominent attorney, now retired, who was a powerful ally of many past presidents. His knowledge of the hidden power struggles and corruption is legendary.
If we are looking at a mining concession, we ALWAYS check with his dad for the REAL STORY. He knows all the ins and outs of the country. Who is corrupt, who is honest, who will sell you down the river.
But he looked so pleasant! Talking about his milking cows and bulls, disguised as a farmer.
I had just met one of the most powerful men in Colombia.
You just never know!
And as always in a Latin country, a true gentleman.
As you can imagine, this was a massive event. We had trouble finding parking, naturally.
It was full of the same type of booths that you see in the US except they sold different stuff, mainly hats.
These were HATS. They were woven of thin tan and brown straw with intricate designs and large, wide brims. And you could roll or fold them into any shape you want so they could be stored in your pocket or whatever. The hats bounced back into shape when unrolled...like magic. They are water proof...a working rancher and farmer's hat.
They also had a woven hat band, made right there on the spot. Another of our Colombian partners bought a hat and he wanted a feather in the band, which they didn't have. He is a gringo and has gringo tastes, thus no feather. He was told to return tomorrow and, by God, they would find a feather.
Got to love Latin accommodation!
They weren't cheap. Good ones cost about $70.
As we walked through the fair, with tens of thousands of people, our Colombian partner was greeted by people every step of the way. It seemed like he was known by EVERYONE. It took a l-o-n-g time to traverse the fair!
He and his father are actually known world-wide in the ranching and cattle industry.
We eventually ended up by an arena where his father was showing his cattle and winning awards. And, of course, buying and selling cattle.
His father was greeted by more people than the son. As we sat in the stands, a constant parade of people climbed the bleachers to greet his dad.
His dad looked 50 years old and was 70. He had a jolly, pleasant face with a constant smile. I could see why he was popular.
But that is not all the story.
His dad was also a prominent attorney, now retired, who was a powerful ally of many past presidents. His knowledge of the hidden power struggles and corruption is legendary.
If we are looking at a mining concession, we ALWAYS check with his dad for the REAL STORY. He knows all the ins and outs of the country. Who is corrupt, who is honest, who will sell you down the river.
But he looked so pleasant! Talking about his milking cows and bulls, disguised as a farmer.
I had just met one of the most powerful men in Colombia.
You just never know!
And as always in a Latin country, a true gentleman.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Arriving In Colombia in Style
As I walked out of the airport in Bogota, Colombia, I was met by Alberto, the driver/body guard, with an armored Toyota Prado.
Before you freak out and buy into all that violent propaganda put out by the US government, let me explain.
Traffic is so congested in Bogota that you are only allowed to drive your car 3 days a week. Unless...you own an armed car which can drive any day. Many pay the extra $20,000 to armor their car so they have the freedom to drive every day.
Alberto, when he was younger, was the equivalent of a Secret Service body guard for dignitaries in Colombia. Now he is a driver for our affiliate business in Bogota.
Still, it is comforting to be picked up and transported by someone who knows how to handle, ah, let's say, sticky situations.
Alberto is a perfect gentleman. He grabbed my luggage, open my door and treated me like royalty. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I am just some guy, not a dignitary.
One of the things I enjoy the most about Latin culture is the courtesy. People are polite, courteous and kind, with all the time in the world to help or simply talk.
And, they are proud of their appearance. Men look sharp and women, well, you can only imagine given the reputation of Colombian women.
The last time I was in the US, I was appalled at the slovenly dress and appearance of Americans. Not to mention the rampant obesity.
On the half hour drive from the airport to the office, I practiced my spanish and he practiced his english.
I was shocked when he complimented my spanish. I feel totally inadequate speaking and hearing spanish. Colombians have impeccable pronunciation which makes it so much easier to hear spanish.
As I would get some piece of spanish, he would laugh and compliment me. And, when he would come up with an unusual english word, I would laugh and compliment him.
There is a joy to hearing someone speak a new language, and to help them, and watch their progress.
I arrived at the office to pandemonium.
More to follow later...
Before you freak out and buy into all that violent propaganda put out by the US government, let me explain.
Traffic is so congested in Bogota that you are only allowed to drive your car 3 days a week. Unless...you own an armed car which can drive any day. Many pay the extra $20,000 to armor their car so they have the freedom to drive every day.
Alberto, when he was younger, was the equivalent of a Secret Service body guard for dignitaries in Colombia. Now he is a driver for our affiliate business in Bogota.
Still, it is comforting to be picked up and transported by someone who knows how to handle, ah, let's say, sticky situations.
Alberto is a perfect gentleman. He grabbed my luggage, open my door and treated me like royalty. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I am just some guy, not a dignitary.
One of the things I enjoy the most about Latin culture is the courtesy. People are polite, courteous and kind, with all the time in the world to help or simply talk.
And, they are proud of their appearance. Men look sharp and women, well, you can only imagine given the reputation of Colombian women.
The last time I was in the US, I was appalled at the slovenly dress and appearance of Americans. Not to mention the rampant obesity.
What happened to our personal pride? Since I have been living in Latin cultures, I automatically dress better and keep my hair cut neatly. I just can't help it. These people compel you to look better, and be more polite and helpful.
On the half hour drive from the airport to the office, I practiced my spanish and he practiced his english.
I was shocked when he complimented my spanish. I feel totally inadequate speaking and hearing spanish. Colombians have impeccable pronunciation which makes it so much easier to hear spanish.
As I would get some piece of spanish, he would laugh and compliment me. And, when he would come up with an unusual english word, I would laugh and compliment him.
There is a joy to hearing someone speak a new language, and to help them, and watch their progress.
I arrived at the office to pandemonium.
More to follow later...
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Behemoths on the Road
Just down the road, toward the country, is a new development under construction. They leveled a lot of jungle to clear for the roads. The houses will do more jungle removal once they are being built. No one, including the local Panamanians, are happy about the destruction of jungle.
Several troops of cute, white-faced monkeys are wondering through the neighborhoods, looking for a new home. Sad.
Rumor has it that it is being funded by drug money.
That is the rumor for almost anything new so I have no idea if it's true. Most things are false here so I would bet on "no drug money" in this project.
Not far from the development and our house is a hydroelectric dam.
Every year, the hydroelectric dam operators dip out all the sand, gravel, cobbles and boulders that build up behind the dam each rainy season. This massive debris has to be hauled somewhere.
This year they are hauling it to the new development...over our roads...which are in piss poor condition as it is...now in really bad condition from the use of off road "Volvo" type massive dump trucks normally used in mining only. Each tire is about 8 feet in diameter and 2 feet wide.
Inevitably, no one will be held accountable to restore the roads to their prior condition.
So is the way of Panama and most other 3rd World nations.
Driving to and from our house has become dicey, to say the least. In many areas, there are guard rails and embankments that make it impossible to pull over out of the way of the huge trucks.
One afternoon, I was headed through a blind curve, guard rails and embankments on both sides of the road, when a behemoth barreled around the curve. Thank God he was empty. As it was, the back 4 huge tires locked up and skipped down the road. I pulled over as far as I could...a useless attempt to stay alive.
Fortunately, he stopped about 5 feet off my front bumper.
Whew! It took a few minutes to stop the pounding of my heart. My profanity flowed for several more minutes.
You just never know what Panama will throw at you.
I am headed back to Colombia this week for another whirlwind tour. These trips are heavily populated with WORKAHOLICS. Not my style.
Each trip, I give them a lecture about: I eat 3 meals a day, every day, every week; I sleep 8 hours a night, every night, every week; I don't enjoy working 12 to 16 hours a day, not now or ever ever.
The result of my lecture...if I'm lucky...is that I get one meal a day and 4 hours of sleep a night.
You could say my lecture can not trump addiction!
Hahahaha! I knew that! I just love to give a self-rightous, indignant lecture.
Several troops of cute, white-faced monkeys are wondering through the neighborhoods, looking for a new home. Sad.
Rumor has it that it is being funded by drug money.
That is the rumor for almost anything new so I have no idea if it's true. Most things are false here so I would bet on "no drug money" in this project.
Not far from the development and our house is a hydroelectric dam.
Every year, the hydroelectric dam operators dip out all the sand, gravel, cobbles and boulders that build up behind the dam each rainy season. This massive debris has to be hauled somewhere.
This year they are hauling it to the new development...over our roads...which are in piss poor condition as it is...now in really bad condition from the use of off road "Volvo" type massive dump trucks normally used in mining only. Each tire is about 8 feet in diameter and 2 feet wide.
Inevitably, no one will be held accountable to restore the roads to their prior condition.
So is the way of Panama and most other 3rd World nations.
Driving to and from our house has become dicey, to say the least. In many areas, there are guard rails and embankments that make it impossible to pull over out of the way of the huge trucks.
One afternoon, I was headed through a blind curve, guard rails and embankments on both sides of the road, when a behemoth barreled around the curve. Thank God he was empty. As it was, the back 4 huge tires locked up and skipped down the road. I pulled over as far as I could...a useless attempt to stay alive.
Fortunately, he stopped about 5 feet off my front bumper.
Whew! It took a few minutes to stop the pounding of my heart. My profanity flowed for several more minutes.
You just never know what Panama will throw at you.
I am headed back to Colombia this week for another whirlwind tour. These trips are heavily populated with WORKAHOLICS. Not my style.
Each trip, I give them a lecture about: I eat 3 meals a day, every day, every week; I sleep 8 hours a night, every night, every week; I don't enjoy working 12 to 16 hours a day, not now or ever ever.
The result of my lecture...if I'm lucky...is that I get one meal a day and 4 hours of sleep a night.
You could say my lecture can not trump addiction!
Hahahaha! I knew that! I just love to give a self-rightous, indignant lecture.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Pity Pot Hangover
I thought I better write a reprieve after yesterdays wining fest.
The rainy season has been mild. April and May were very wet, as is usual. And we have dried out some in June and July which is the "Indian Summer" that happens most years.
This is nice because even though I like rain, enough is enough.
Last night our band played at the Oasis restaurant. We knew the gig might be short on people because the last 3 times we played there last year, they took 2 to 3 hours to get the dinners served. This pissed many of our fans off. They vowed to never return.
And they didn't return.
We had about 40 people, (100 to 120 is normal) which is a miserable turnout for us. And, we have never seen these people before...an all new audience. Very strange!
To make matters worse, Yella was sick and struggled through the night feeling poorly. She did a great job through the sickness but it was a strain for her.
Those that attended had a good time. We played marginally.
A let down for sure. Just as our last job at Las Ruinas last week was a let down.
I believe that the times are a changing, as I alluded to in yesterdays blog.
Time to move on!
This is a day of rest. All I have to do is take in the trash to the trash truck, conveniently parked in front of the fire station. This is our weekly outing with the dogs who get to ride into town and maybe take a walk. Since our dogs are unruly, mayhem will dominate.
I think I will watch Wimbledon tennis today while eating quarts of ice cream, chips and dip and copious quantities of coffee.
I can't wait to see what shows up next. The last wave of was excellent. Who knows what the next will be?
The rainy season has been mild. April and May were very wet, as is usual. And we have dried out some in June and July which is the "Indian Summer" that happens most years.
This is nice because even though I like rain, enough is enough.
Last night our band played at the Oasis restaurant. We knew the gig might be short on people because the last 3 times we played there last year, they took 2 to 3 hours to get the dinners served. This pissed many of our fans off. They vowed to never return.
And they didn't return.
We had about 40 people, (100 to 120 is normal) which is a miserable turnout for us. And, we have never seen these people before...an all new audience. Very strange!
To make matters worse, Yella was sick and struggled through the night feeling poorly. She did a great job through the sickness but it was a strain for her.
Those that attended had a good time. We played marginally.
A let down for sure. Just as our last job at Las Ruinas last week was a let down.
I believe that the times are a changing, as I alluded to in yesterdays blog.
Time to move on!
This is a day of rest. All I have to do is take in the trash to the trash truck, conveniently parked in front of the fire station. This is our weekly outing with the dogs who get to ride into town and maybe take a walk. Since our dogs are unruly, mayhem will dominate.
I think I will watch Wimbledon tennis today while eating quarts of ice cream, chips and dip and copious quantities of coffee.
I can't wait to see what shows up next. The last wave of was excellent. Who knows what the next will be?
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