Caribbean Life?

Two of our favourite TV shows that helped us move forward with our retirement plans were Caribbean Life and Beachfront Bargain Hunt. The stories and images sent our hearts fluttering and our dreams soaring. And if it’s a repeat…well, let’s just say that can spoil the whole evening as we have memorized every episode in great detail. We were drawn in hook, line, and sinker - the thought of selling everything and moving to a Caribbean island was quite alluring - and here we are. They always presented something like a huge plantation home on St. Croix, a thatched roof house in the jungle in Belize, or a glass condo on the beach in Grand Cayman; all featuring steel drum music, beautiful beach scenes and, of course, delicious umbrella topped tropical drinks.

It seemed the best part of each episode was the little segment at the end... you know, after the nice couple from Vancouver buy their dream house on a tropical beach, they serenade you for sixty seconds about it being the best decision of their lives. They are tanned, relaxed, happy and sipping on a glass of champagne while lounging in their His and Hers chairs on their new wrap around deck. Yes, watching those blissful “after” segments from our couch actually helped to reinforce the big changes we were about to make by trading in our bustling city life in the great white north for the sleepy pace of tropical life.

Fast forward a few years, as we have found out there is much more to life here than warm sunsets, great rum and bottomless piña coladas, but we enjoy every day here and try not to take things too seriously.

We thought it might be time to share yet another one of our "tongue-in-cheek" installments of hard-earned knowledge to help anyone doing similar planning, because paradise isn’t always a dream vacation with snorkel gear. We have said this in previous posts... yes it's beautiful here, but living here is different than visiting for a day on a cruise ship or a two week vacation in an all inclusive resort.

With spectacular sunshine comes spectacular sunburns, and April showers bring thirsty mosquitoes along with the occasional hurricane thereafter. So before you go running off to fulfill your HGTV-fueled dreams of sand, sun, and surf, embrace these tidbits that are a bit different from our previous posts:

Two things: raw boobs and swamp ass. When it's 32 C and you're sitting sitting on a patio sipping on a bevy, or day-drinking at a fun event, you are a prime candidate for a damp situation under your bosom and/or booty. You're then hesitant to get up during a four-hour-happy-hour on a patio because of the trickle of sweat running into your underwear. Yes, adult diaper rash is real. Your butt has never been as wet and raw and sore as it is after three consecutive days of cruising the beach scene and dropping in for a quick dip along the way, ...and then sitting on a beach chair in a wet bathing suit. It's officially called swamp ass.

As we all know, the temptation to cast off city clothes in favour of a bikini or swim trunks is strong, but we recommend a dry change of clothes at least once a day. We found a special powder in Mexico (thanks to our friend Patty) called Mexicana. It's basically medicated baby powder. Or you could pick up the official scent free / anti-chafing swamp ass powder in the handy easy to apply can. We highly recommend this if you value the unblemished state of your smooth North American ass.

Then there is always the New York solution: Butt Botox - it works by blocking the chemical signals from nerves that stimulate sweat glands, which can halt sweating where injected for three to six months. Hmm - no thanks. We haven't tried it but underarm antiperspirant might work... but then it's probably a lot easier to take off the wet swim suit, apply powder, and put on a dry pair of shorts...

You’re in the jungle now baby... We grew up in Canada and thought we had a yard full of critters in the summer. We had flies, frogs, crickets, garter snakes, wasps, and the occasional honey bee... If you’re gearing up for a move to the tropics, we suggest you quickly come to terms with expanding your relationship with massive spiders, cock roaches, huge frogs, giant snails, lizards of all sizes, snakes, and sneaky rats. All doable...

And we can confirm that mosquitoes carry Zika, Chikungunya (see previous post "Chick Gets Gooned" posted in January 2017), and Dengue. You don't want any of them but Dengue is the definitely the worst. Mosquitoes spread all kinds of diseases and then there is all the itching and the buzzing that keeps you up all night. The one big winner in all this is the insect repellent company called ‘Off’ this is the #1 selling brand here, and the most expensive (not so expensive is "Go" bug spray but it's kinda smelly). At the beach you will find nasty little gnats in the sand that come out to chomp on your ankles and feet just as you are standing there motionless enjoying the spectacular sunset. Luckily, over time, you will find that you develop a bit of natural repellent or shield (...might be the ratio of rum in your veins...). When people come to visit, you will notice that the bugs tend leave you alone as they love fresh, tasty, non-Caribbean snacks! We see many non-tanned newbies with multiple bright red bug bites on their legs. Yes, bug spray is your friend.

If you are new to the tropics you might also have an encounter with barracuda, lion fish, wild monkeys, 2000 pound sea turtles or perhaps the occasional alligator but you would need to modify your personal repellent somewhat for these critters. We recommend a sturdy 10 foot stick for testing those "logs" that have eyes before stopping to have a picnic on them.

Funny money... Adjusting to a new currency (and knowing its grocery value) is not for the uninitiated mathematician. Moving from one country to another every year makes it harder and makes your head hurt. Converting Mexican pesos, Barbados dollars, Eastern Caribbean dollars between US dollars and Canadian dollars can be somewhat of a challenge some days with the yoyo currency rates... kinda like watching a dog in one of those post-surgery lampshade things try to get access to where his “manhood” used to be. I digress. Many people move to the tropics specifically for a lower cost of living. That apparent "savings" flies out the window when you have no idea how much you’re spending because you have no idea what 12,187 divided by sixteen is, and you just say f*ck-it three times a day at the checkout counter and try to remember to do the math later.

Getting lost in translation... We are amazed by how many English-speaking retiree refugees fail to learn some basic (yet helpful) words of the country they’re moving to before they rush to get that one-way plane ticket. We have fallen to that ourselves but we were also fortunate to live in an expat enclave in Mexico where you can actually get by on English plus an abundance of fast moving hand gestures. But that is truly luck on our part as the locals take the time to learn a little English to cater to tourists. We were very thankful for that. In many of the small Spanish speaking beach towns you’re going to miss out on a lot of potential friends, opportunities, and drink specials if you don’t make the effort to engage in la lengua materna. But then we heard someone invented an App for instant translation that can be loaded onto your cell phone - cool.

Coming to the Caribbean is a bit easier but the App won't help you here as you will need to deal with the various local dialects and accents. Some of these accents have a reputation for being pleasing to the ear and could be a great start to a romantic overture. Of course, no accent is sexy when it's strong enough to crush a beer can. Which means not all accents are created equal. People from Trinidad (Trinis) speak in a very sing-song dialect which offers an undulating, melodic gumbo of pan-African, French, Spanish, Creole and Hindi dialects mixed together in their "English" phrases. French creole is spoken in many Caribbean countries and is mixed with British English, it's kinda mixing the come-hither of the French tongue with the upward nobility of the Queen's English by folks like James Bond and Hermione Granger.... we can't understand or follow either one so it's a bit of a crap shoot to get what they are saying... And then they have an annoying way of putting the emphasis on the wrong syllable.

Most locals in Caribbean islands chop off their words so you only hear the first half of each word, and they speak very quickly. Example: My family was born in the Caribbean and we are very happy to be living here... May fam bo da Cayabbeeeean mon n way hap lev hey. ...takes a bit of getting used to...

It’s not just the sun that burns... As in many of the Caribbean, South, and Central American countries featured on Beachfront Bargain Hunt, one of the primary modes of transportation is a crotch rocket. The locals drive them like crazed fools fueled by high octane rum. If you don’t know the proper way to hurl yourself up and over the seat as a passenger, you’re liable to wind up with a “Caribbean tattoo” ... aka the inner calf burn that results from your exposed leg being seared against the motorbike’s tail pipe like a nice piece of tuna. (No photos here as you can google it and throw up on your own time). It hurts like a shark bite and the scar will be roughly the size of the entire island of Grenada.

Say goodbye to Oxfords... After a couple years of wearing nothing but flip flops and open-toed sandals, we can’t return to the land of cold weather and "real" shoes without developing a blister or two on every toe. Walking on sand in bare feet every day seems to add girth to your northern footprint so squeezing into Canadian snow boots and lacing on high top runners becomes next to impossible. The resulting foot festers are like some sort of localized Bubonic plague - both hideous and freakishly painful. After just a few hours of returning to mall shopping in the great white north you begin weighing the pros and cons of voluntary amputation. Sweat beads start forming on your forehead and run into your eyes and then freeze there, due to being north of 49, while you contemplate an early return to your happy little island. Flip-flops are your friend.

Tomorrow is another day... They say it in those last TV segments all the time. Caribbean life is all about taking it slow.... then cue camera to a wide angle shot of the happy couple holding hands and ambling down the sunset beach without a care in the world. But once you actually live here, you kinda do have some cares. Like plumbing emergencies, power outages, mould, palm trees covering the road, window screens that flap (hello, mosquitoes!) and a million things that need to be painted, installed, or repaired in constant rotation – mostly due to the ever-present and unforgiving sun. Be prepared to wait, and wait, and wait a little more until things finally get started but never finished. It's the Caribbean way.... it's a good idea to throw your wrist watch into the sea - you won't need it.

The bottom line: Living in the tropics is different but it is also magical and beautiful, and, don't get us wrong, we love it here as we have learned to embrace a bit of swamp ass from time to time. We have also found some new ways of doing things, and we have no regrets. When we meet people on the beach we try to let them know that they might also need a slight adjustment to their expectations as they too will find out that there is much more to getting used to life here than warm sunsets, great rum and bottomless piña coladas. Hopefully these tidbits will be helpful to you too...