Expat Life Archives - Page 2 of 4 - Sonia Marsh

I’m an Expat Alien Who Had to Find My Way

April 7, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 13 Comments

Finding My Way Across Continents

“My Gutsy Story®” Kathy Gamble

I was born in Burma and grew up on five continents. When I was 18, I went to college in the US, my passport country. It was very difficult for me. I was used to adjusting to new places and blending in but this time it was different. I looked and talked like an American but I had no knowledge of popular culture or how to identify with my fellow classmates.

My roommate had never been out of her home state except to go to college. She spent her time telling wild high school stories. I thought since she was telling her stories, I could tell mine. That was a mistake. “I learned to drink beer at the Hofbrouhous in Munich. I skied at St Moritz. I walked around the Parthenon and Knossos.” Of course she could not process my stories and said I was a liar. She told everybody I was a liar. I was ostracized and if I tried to speak to any of the “group”, I was ignored. I thought there was something wrong with me. I could not understand why they were so strange and closed minded.

I was very naive about the US. I had been in multicultural environments my entire life. I knew there were bigoted people but I didn’t understand how it was manifested in society at large. One day I went to lunch in the cafeteria and I saw a long empty table and I thought ‘I’ll sit there and then maybe I’ll meet some new people’. Well, as the lunch progressed people sat around me but they were all black and none of them would speak to me. The next day I commented on it to somebody and they told me that whites are not “allowed” to sit at that table. It is for the black girls only. I thought they were kidding. But they weren’t. It was too bad because they surely had a very different experience from mine and I probably could have learned some things from them about their perspective of America.

Halfway through my freshman year an old friend from high school showed up for a visit and as soon as I saw him I knew everything was going to be all right. He knew exactly what I was talking about and assured me I was not a crazy stupid idiot. Eventually I made other friends and things turned out okay. However, I stopped telling my story. To this day, I don’t volunteer anything about myself unless I know the other person’s story first. Then I usually adapt mine to theirs in a way they can relate to it.

Twenty years later I ended up in Moscow, Russia. My husband was a Russian American who grew up speaking Russian at home and had relatives in Moscow and St Petersburg. He moved there in the 1990’s and decided to open his own business. I moved to Moscow not knowing much about it and not knowing the language at all. I landed there with no support system. I was on my own. My husband was working most of the time or out with his Russian buddies.

I was horribly unhappy at first but what I ended up doing, and what saved me, were two things. I cooked and I wrote. I made everything from scratch. I often could not find what I was looking for so I improvised. I poured over cookbooks. My husband was always dragging people home for dinner – mostly Russians who were happy to eat anything I fed them. I think I fed half of Moscow. I was fearless. Everybody was a potential guinea pig. And then by a weird twist of fate I became the editor of the American Women’s Organization newsletter.

In the end it all came together and I edited, designed and produced the AWO Moscow cookbook. By that time I was an old hand and everybody knew me. I was satisfied and I was content. I had carved out my new persona.

All those years growing up in places like Mexico and Nigeria taught me to have inner strength and to be creative. We never had all the things we needed or wanted but we found ways to get around that. If Christmas Trees were not available, we made one out of paper or cards or cloth. We always made each other’s birthday cards. We rarely had TV so we read, or played cards, or listened to music. When we lived in Lagos I went to boarding school, so I didn’t have any friends to hang out with but there were always new things to see and experience and learn from all around me. I never felt lonely or bored.

We became such a tight family unit that it didn’t really matter. I think that is why I had such a hard time in the beginning in Moscow and in college. I didn’t have the support system people need in those situations. Whether it is an old friend or a family member or a new friend who “gets” you, as long as there is somebody telling you, ‘No, you haven’t lost your mind’, it really helps. But when there was no support system, I was able to find something I really loved to do and enjoyed the ride. An open and curious mind always helps.

Kathleen Gamble was born and raised overseas and has traveled extensively. She started journaling at a young age and her memoir, Expat Alien, came out of those early journals. Expat Alien was published in 2012 and she recently published a cookbook, 52 Food Fridays, both available on Amazon.com. You can also follow her blog at ExpatAlien.com.

Please Follow Kathy on:

Twitter: @ExpatAlien
Please like Kathy’s Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ExpatAlien?ref=hl

Kathy Gamble Book cover.jpg — Click on cover to go to Amazon

SONIA MARSH SAYS: Kathy, your story shows that travel makes us more open, and accepting of others. Your statement, “To this day, I don’t volunteer anything about myself unless I know the other person’s story first. Then I usually adapt mine to theirs in a way they can relate to,” is a clear signal that in order to be “accepted” we have to try to “fit in.” This is something that applies to expats all over the world. Thank you for sharing your insightful story.

REMEMBER TO VOTE for your favorite March 2014 “My Gutsy Story®.” VOTING ends on April 16th.

The WINNER will be announced on April 17th. 13th.

MGS FINAL COVER Small — Click on cover to go to Amazon

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

PLEASE VOTE AND SHARE THESE STORIES USING THE LINKS BELOW.

Next Expat Stop-Tanzania by Yelena Parker

March 3, 2014 by Sonia Marsh 9 Comments

Next Expat Stop- Tanzania

“My Gutsy Story®” by Yelena Parker

Have you ever shared your story with new and somewhat eager listeners and got the reaction: “Wow, that was such a brave thing to do!”? Last year I started feeling as if anything I had done that was remotely brave was in the too far distant past. I wouldn’t quite call it a mid-life crisis but more of a realization that something has changed. Then, in a serendipity moment, there was a tweet in my timeline “When was the last time you did something that was the first time?” Indeed.

My “gutsy” story began almost exactly 15 years ago when I left Ukraine with $600 dollars in my wallet and a one- way plane ticket to study for a Master’s in Business Administration in California. On my first international flight to Amsterdam, before connecting to San Francisco, I sat next to one of those American men who came to Ukraine in search for his fiancée. We talked about his desire to find love in an obscure small town where women have no prospects and my dream to see the world on my own. This was before I knew that the flight etiquette strongly advises against engaging into annoyingly long conversations with people who you are stranded with. I was chatty, naïve and ready to take on the world. What I didn’t consider at that time that it was a gutsy move. When you have nothing to lose, an opportunity to come to the US on a scholarship, work and study, with a chance to see if you can make your American dream come true, is really a “no brainer” – at least that was how I saw it.

Fast forward and my dream has become more global than I could have ever imagined. Getting an MBA in Silicon Valley during the dotcom crash was far from perfect timing. While we were learning about innovation and planning for rapidly and ambitiously building our big international careers, the economic climate changed dramatically. One day my fellow students and I had visions of choosing any cool company we wanted, and the next thing I knew I was working as the lowest possible status of sales rep generating leads by walking door to door to sell copiers in the spookily empty tech parks along highway 101.

Having got over the disappointment that many over-educated and underemployed MBAs experience, I fell into a sales operations career in high tech, pretty much starting at the very bottom. In retrospective, it was the best move I could have made which took me to see the world and led to opportunities to work and live as an expat in Switzerland and United Kingdom. None of these moves I thought of as brave at the time. Once you are on a serial expat path, new relocations get easier. You already had to adjust once or twice to a new environment, pick up the pieces of friendships left behind, introduce yourself to new people and learn or improve a foreign language. You are a chameleon, an international wanderer and a global citizen. Surely you can do it again!

Last year I looked at a career map that my accidental mentor put together with me 6 years earlier over coffee. Senior manager responsibilities- check; director level- check; expat assignment- check; executive education program at Oxford University-check; vice-president role at a smaller tech company- check. All done. 3 years ahead of schedule. What’s next? I have finally uncovered that it takes more guts to change direction and do something completely out of character when you have something to lose.

I quit my job and focused on writing a book about expat and life abroad success. Over the last year I kept comparing experiences of my friends, women expats, who made their own moves without fear. And there it was, “Moving Without Shaking”. At the same time, I started reevaluating what the meaning of work was for me. Should I join the movement of solopreneurs? Should I go volunteer while I am thinking about what to do next? What do I really know a lot about, besides running sales operations in tech and going to school abroad? I looked for what I truly had become passionate about in my 15 years of corporate adventures and living abroad.

I wanted to do something for the first time again but it had to be not for my career. March 1 I am starting on a volunteering journey in Tanzania. I have signed up with African Impact, a wonderful organization placing many volunteers in programs all over Africa. The first community project is based in Moshi, on the foothills of Kilimanjaro, and focuses on women and children empowerment. The second project is for a community in Zanzibar, teaching English, and helping the local school. The local communities are in need of educational resources that we often take for granted. My first career was in teaching English at a university level in Ukraine. This is an opportunity to take everything that I was good at before I started my journey abroad, add in the business experience and give back in the form of time and knowledge. I was able to move abroad because I met an American professor volunteering in Ukraine, willing to help me with a scholarship abroad. It is my turn to see if I can help someone in one of the countries that my academic mentor is passionate about. I am excited about the learning opportunity, the chance to make a real impact in people’s lives, the challenge and the longest break from paid work I have ever had.

YELENA PARKER is a founder of expat and executive coaching consultancy, Moving Without Shaking Ltd. She is a serial expat, living in the UK, her fourth home country, as of this writing. She blogs about expat and life abroad success at www.movingwithoutshaking.com

Her first book, Moving Without Shaking, is coming out in spring 2014.

Check out Yelena’s Website

Follow Yelena on Twitter: @yelenaparker or @movingwtshaking

SONIA MARSH SAYS: You are living life to the fullest and stepping out of your comfort zone. I am sure you will have so much to share after your experience in Tanzania, and I cannot wait to do a Gutsy Google+ Hangout with you for an update when you return.

***

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

Would you like to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our 2nd anthology?

Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

VOTING for your favorite February 2014 “My Gutsy Story®,” starts on February 27th, and ends on March 12th. The WINNER will be announced on March 13th.

PLEASE VOTE AND SHARE THESE STORIES USING THE LINKS BELOW.

“My Gutsy Story®” Linda Kovic-Skow

April 22, 2013 by Sonia Marsh 23 Comments

French Illusions: My Story as an American Au Pair in the Loire Valley

( Prologue)

One week after placing my ad for a French teacher in the local newspaper, I met Rob at a local café.

“Linda, your plan may backfire,” he warned, furrowing his brow.

My eyes searched his face. “I guess I’ll take that chance.”

“All right then, I’ll help you.”

Most lies are told with the expectation that no one will uncover them. In the summer of 1979, I told a monumental lie, fully aware that mine would be discovered.

I was twenty-one and working as a medical assistant for a busy family practice clinic in Seattle. Every morning at seven o’clock, I dragged myself to the office and performed the same mundane tasks—answering phones, scheduling appointments, and escorting patients to examining rooms.

My roommate’s burgeoning career presented a dazzling contrast to my dull job. Carline, an aspiring model, returned home from auditions bubbling over with enthusiasm as her glamorous vocation took off. Dressed in stylish clothes, she dashed in and out of our apartment from one appointment to another.

Cindy, my other close friend, seemed poised for stardom. She took to the stage, blowing audiences away with her strong voice and artistic abilities, her years of hard work finally paying off.

Months passed and I grew increasingly disenchanted with my career.

“That’s it. I’ve had enough,” I mumbled, frowning at my reflection in the mirror. “I’m finding a new job.”

Intrigued with the notion of overseas travel, I researched my options and decided to pursue a flight attendant position with an international airline. I imagined myself on sojourns in cities around the globe, meeting fascinating people and living life to its fullest.

My resume landed me an interview with World Airways, Inc. and three weeks later I flew to California for the event. The panel of two women and two men voiced their approval as I answered a battery of questions, but their smiles vanished when they discovered I didn’t speak a second language.

“I’m sorry, Miss Kovic, but World Airways requires all flight attendants to be bilingual.” The interviewer’s words struck like daggers in my heart. “However, if you learn another language, we might consider you for a position in the future.”

“Which one would you recommend?” I held his gaze to emphasize my sincerity.

“Spanish, French, or German.”

“Thank you.” I replied, rolling back my shoulders as I left the room, already contemplating my next move.

French appealed to me more than the other languages because I loved the way it sounded, and total immersion seemed the best way to become fluent in the shortest amount of time. Once I learned the language, I would return home and reapply for a flight attendant position with World Airways. But where would I get the money? I only had a few hundred dollars in my bank account.

A coworker came up with a remarkably simple solution. “Maybe you can become an au pair for a family in France?”

Linda Kovic Young.HIGHRES — Linda Kovic as a young woman

Unsure what this would entail, I wrote to several agencies and received applications along with informational brochures detailing the job expectations. My primary responsibility would be childcare, twenty-five to thirty hours a week, along with some light housework and cooking. In return, I would have my own bedroom, a small allowance, and one day off per week. One brochure boasted “the au pair becomes almost like a member of the family as he or she is immersed in a new cultural experience. Often both parties remember the experience fondly for the rest of their lives.”

Reading on, I discovered a colossal problem. All the agencies required prospective au pairs to have familiarity with the language, conversational French at the very least.

How will I get around this, I thought. Maybe I could fill out the applications as though I spoke French. I would hire a private tutor and learn some common phrases before I left. Once I arrived in France, I would somehow persuade my host family to allow me to stay.

Aware that the hoax would upset my parents, I kept this element of my plan a secret, confiding in only a few of my closest friends. Both Carline and Cindy questioned my judgment on more than one occasion, but I dismissed their concerns. I had set my mind to go.

With Rob’s help, I completed four applications. A month later, one of the agencies replied detailing a possible match. The response read like this:

We have found you a host family living in a real-life castle in a small town called Songais within the Loire region of France. Monsieur and Madame Dubois have two children, with another one expected very soon. They are excited to welcome their first American au pair and they are especially impressed with how well you write and speak French. How soon can you make the trip to France? Can you stay for a full year?

The Dubois family sounded perfect, but a shudder ran through my body as I formed my next thought. I hope they’ll forgive me when they learn that I lied.

Pulse jumping with anticipation, I wrote back, agreeing to all their terms, with an expected arrival date in August. I purchased my ticket, sublet my apartment and gave notice to my employer.

Three weeks later, captivated by French illusions, I boarded a plane for Europe.

***

Please connect with Linda on her website, become a fan on her Facebook Page, and join her on Twitter @LindaKovicSkow

A great book trailer for French Illusions.

Linda Kovic-Skow resides in Gilbert, Arizona. She earned an Associate Degree in Medical Assisting in 1978 from North Seattle Community College and a Bachelor of Arts in Business Administration from Seattle University in 1985. She has been married for 27 years and has two daughters. An enthusiastic traveler, Linda also enjoys boating, gardening and socializing with friends. French Illusions, her debut memoir, is the culmination of a three-year project.

Sonia Marsh Says: What an exciting “gutsy” thing to do. You took a risk and it paid off. Now I want to read french Illusions to see how you handled your “lack of” French, and how Mr. and Mme. Dubois treated you. Can’t wait.

***

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story®.” Please see guidelines below and contact Sonia Marsh at: sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

Please read and share our April 2013 stories by David Prosser, Win Charles, and Carol Bodensteiner.

Voting starts on May 2nd-May 15th.

You can find all the information, and our new sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

“My Gutsy Story®” Sandra Bornstein

February 4, 2013 by Sonia Marsh 18 Comments

Becoming an International Teacher in Bangalore, India

I dropped off a package at the FedEx office today. As I walked back to the car, my thoughts drifted back to 2010. I was sitting in the same parking lot staring at the majestic Colorado Rockies as I contemplated my future. If I returned the adjacent envelope to India, I would be committing to a two-year teaching contract at a notable international school. If I chose not to send it, I had no idea what I would do.

Eventually, I walked into the office and dropped off the envelope. For weeks, I had pondered my options always returning to the same question.

Would I be foolish to pass on a once in a lifetime opportunity?

My friends and relatives saw it in a different light. Most were not shy in voicing their opposition.

“You’ll never survive.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

Only a handful of my friends were supportive and politely agreed that it would be a wonderful experience. For the most part, it was my husband and me against the world. To counter this onslaught of opposition, I referred to our new career paths as an adventure. The pervasive negativity, however, did cause me to momentarily pause to reflect on our sanity.

We had not lost our minds.

Months earlier, my husband had accepted a job that required living in India for approximately 6 months each year and extensive travel during the remaining months. I could have decided to remain in suburban Colorado. Instead, I chose the less popular route.

My husband’s employers represented that we would see more of each other if I chose to move to India. The chance to teach at an international Indian school fulfilled a lasting passion to truly make a difference. I wasn’t willing to take a pass.

After arriving in India, I started to have my doubts. Everything was foreign and strange. I was totally unprepared. I was resisting culture shock much like you would fight severe allergies. My frequent allergy shots were daily exposures to a new culture.

Daily doses of Indian culture initially caused adverse reactions. Within a day of arriving, I shuddered with fear when a monkey entered our fifth floor apartment and jumped up and down on our dining room table. I sat in disbelief.

How could a monkey enter a fifth floor apartment? What could possibly happen next?

The peace and quiet associated with a small community of less than 15,000 people was turned upside down when I found myself living in a congested urban area with more than 8.5 million people.

From the time I was in elementary school, I freely crossed American streets. Now in India, I winced whenever I approached a street. Cars, trucks, buses, rickshaws, and motorcycles rarely followed any traffic rules. I was terrified. I wanted a crossing guard. I wish my expat supervisor had had one. She was the victim of a hit and run accident.

While many of my day-to-day encounters caused a high level of stress and anxiety, I was intrigued by Hindu culture and the ancient structures that dotted the countryside. Acting like a tourist, I was able to expand my limited understanding of Indian geography, history and culture. By engaging strangers, I was able to gather bits and pieces of information. I overcame my childhood anxiety of “stranger danger” and relished the chance to find answers to my questions.

My travel adventures were limited since I spent most of my time teaching at the international school. Monkeys once again were part of my daily life. These curious mammals frequented my guest room, classroom, and the playground. Food was their primary target. Security guards with long wooden sticks would chase them away. The monkeys quickly returned whenever they spotted any child carrying food. Luckily, none of the students were hurt while I was at the school.

There were only 18 students (12 boys and 6 girls) in my 5^th grade classroom. Overall, the students were exceptionally polite and interested in learning. Completing homework assignments on a regular basis was another story. Many were not motivated and the problem permeated the entire primary school.

One of the highlights of my teaching experience was the 5^th grade outdoor education trip to Kabini River Lodge. By being in a less formal setting, I was able to get to know my students and some faculty members better. Taking daily safaris into an Indian jungle was more than I ever anticipated when I signed my contract. When one of the jeeps broke down, I wondered what calamity would happen next. Fortunately, the perils associated with being vulnerable in the jungle did not materialize.

Cochin on way back from synagogue in Jew Town.

Another high point was the trip I took with two of my teaching colleagues. We traveled by plane to Cochin and then by car to Munnar. The mountainous terrain and the cool crisp air was a respite from the pervasive pollution and intense heat of Bangalore and New Delhi. Taking hikes through the countryside with my colleagues refreshed my spirit. It was a welcomed mid-semester break from the day-to-day rigors of teaching. An extra bonus was our stop at the Paradesi Synagogue in Cochin, the oldest active synagogue in the Commonwealth.

Sandra-Bornstein-Sandra Bornstein Temple Day Trip Parshvanatha and Shantinatha Basadis — Sandra Bornstein, Temple Day Trip Parshvanatha and Shantinatha Basadis

While my teaching experience provided new insights into cultural diversity and learning to deal with people who did not share the same educational philosophy, I longed for the companionship of my family. Contrary to the terms of my husband’s employment, he did not return to India after I started working at the international school. I lived in India by myself for almost an entire semester.

In order to survive this unexpected twist of fate, I relied on my inner strength. I faced each day head-on. When I returned to the US, I embraced my husband and children and accepted the fact that the core of my existence was my family. As long as I had my husband, my sons, and their wives by my side, any year could be the best year of my life.

Sandra Bornstein Bio: Sandra Bornstein, an international educator and writer, has taught K-12 students in the United States and abroad as well as college level courses at the University of Colorado and Front Range Community College. Sandra holds two master’s degrees- one in Education from the University of Colorado and another in Jewish Studies from Spertus College. While pursuing a master’s degree in Jewish Studies, Sandra Bornstein wrote Rose Haas Alschuler: A Chicago Woman’s Life of Service 1887-1979 and five biographical essays on American Jewish women. The essays were published in encyclopedias and later added to the Jewish Women’s Archives website.

In 2010, her husband’s international job created a unique opportunity to live abroad. In India, she fulfilled three passions – a desire to travel, a zeal for writing, and a love of teaching. Sandra’s Indian adventure became the backdrop for her book, May This Be the Best Year of Your Life: A Memoir. Watch Sandra’s video book trailer

Sandra currently lives in Colorado with her husband and their cat, Chloe. You can contact Sandra at info@sandrabornstein.com.

Join Sandra Bornstein on social media: Please visit Sandra’s website, join her on Twitter @Sandrabornstein, as well as Facebook and LinkedIn

Sonia Marsh Says:
I love your “gutsy” adventure to India, and find it interesting how people react to those who step out of the box by saying, “Have you lost your mind?” What an experience you had learning about a different culture, and way of life. A pity that your husband did not return to India as planned.

***

VOTING for your favorite January 2013 “My Gutsy Story®” started on January 31st, and ends on February 13th. You can read all 4 submissions here.

The winner will be announced on February 14th, Valentine’s Day. We have a new sponsor, Carolyn Howard-Johson, who is offering her e-book as a prize: The Frugal Editor.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story®” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story®” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story®” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

I Can’t Believe I Have John McAfee As a Facebook Friend

November 15, 2012 by Sonia Marsh 5 Comments

Yes, you heard me right. John McAfee, the anti-virus pioneer who is being sought for questioning about a murder case, lives on the island of Ambergris Caye, where my family lived for one year.

Thanks to a mutual contact on the island, I became “friends” with him on Facebook.

It’s not like I ever wrote to him on FB, however, today with US News covering the scandal with John McAfee, it no longer surprises me to read about crime, gossip, guns, drugs and dog killings on the island where we lived. Even the Telegraph has an appropriate title: John McAfee: sex, drugs and anti-virus software.

John McAfee moved to Ambergris Caye, a popular island in Belize, after we left in 2005. We did not know him personally, however we did know the murder victim, Gregory Faull. He lived a few houses north of ours on Ambergris Caye. Greg was a contractor from Florida who was building his retirement home on the island. We invited him for a beer in our house, and nick-named Greg the “lobster guy.” I shall never forget when he told us he caught thirty lobster in about an hour or so, while my son Steve and his dad caught only one puny little lobster in two hours. We were all so envious of his lobster-catching skills.

Greg was a fun guy who spent half his time building houses in Florida, and then the rest building his own home on Ambergris Caye. He invited us inside his house to show off the huge rooms he built. (Read page 193 of Freeways to Flip-Flops, and you’ll find him. I changed his name to Mitch.)

Life on the island of Ambergris Caye was both scary and exciting. For such a small island, there was always something going on, and for those of you who have read my memoir: Freeways to Flip-Flops: A Family’s Year of Gutsy Living on a Tropical Island, you might recall certain chapters where I expressed fear once in a while about living on Ambergris Caye.

Here is one excerpt about a drug boat from Columbia:

I strolled along the beach to get away from the bustle of golf carts, taxis and bikes on Front Street. The next Island Ferry was scheduled for 11 a.m., so I collapsed on the wooden step in the shade, thinking about how much our lives had changed in just two months. Curiosity led me to the end of the boat dock, where some locals had gathered. They were pointing at something in the distance, and when I saw what they were looking at, my heart skipped a beat. A boat had capsized and six men holding long poles were attempting to flip it over. “Oh, my God, Duke must have lost control of the Island Rider,” I thought, straining my eyes to see if a Cubs baseball cap was floating in the water.

“Mario, what happened to the boat?” I asked. Mario was one of the Island Ferry’s boat captains.

“It’s a drug boat from Columbia,” he said.

“Does this happen often?” I asked.

“Yes, lots of drug smuggling from Colombia to Mexico.” After years of living in my safe Orange County neighborhood, I suddenly felt vulnerable. When I reached home, I hurried upstairs to tell Duke about the capsized boat.

Another excerpt about my fear of being alone with my two younger sons on Ambergris Caye when Duke left for California.

My ears were on high alert for any unusual sounds, so we watched a comedy I knew would make Josh laugh and me forget my fear for a while. “Can I sleep in Steve’s bed?” Josh asked, snuggling closer to me than usual on the couch.

“Of course,” I replied. At least that way, I wouldn’t be all alone downstairs. Alec would sleep upstairs with Cookie.

I hid a solid mahogany rolling pin underneath Duke’s pillow and tucked a machete behind some books on the shelf next to my bed. I regretted not following Lucy’s advice – she was a 70-year-old woman from Michigan who lived alone in town – “Keep a bullhorn next to your bed. It’ll scare the heck out of any thief or rapist.”

So this time Belize is making national news due to a scandal involving a famous American businessman: John McAfee.

What a small world.