While still gainfully employed I had arranged a trip over Xmas to the Dominican Republic, thinking that I would either be employed and off, or unemployed and available to travel. Regrettably, it was the latter that came about.
I was going to meet Raquel Ramirez, one of the unforgettable people I have ever met. Orphaned at a young age, she had been married to a Dominican who one disappeared off the face of the earth never to be seen again. The only evidence of his existence was a request for divorce that showed up in the mail one day and threats of taking her boy away to the USA delivered through her ex mother-in-law. Stuck with two kids, Raquel has fought and scratched for everything she has, she is a fantastic person by any measure. We had an on-line friendship that spanned two years covering her divorce and mine, job gains and losses, and the usual ups and downs. She suddenly announced her long-hidden love in an email, stating that she had tried every hint in the book but none of them flipped the switch in my head. So we went from friendship to romance in no time flat, complete with lusty messages and revealing photos zipping around cyberspace. It was cool while it lasted.
To make a long story short, as soon as my trip was inked and commitments made, the tone of the relationship subtly changed from a heady romance to "need another quart of milk for the kiddies." OK, the hints were much more subtle, but either way, I was not impressed and quickly bowed out.
Enter Bianca, another charming young Dominican babe with a sweet little 5 year old girl living in Nagua, out in the boonies on the East coast of the DR, where life is slower and more civilized than in Santo Domingo, the sprawling mess of a capital. Very appealing.
Real nice girl with a stable family situation, studying to be a lawyer (this definitely got a red flag up but I deftly put it to the side), very intelligent and witty. Her mom is a teacher and her father owns a little store. I told her that I want out of this rat race in the coming years and definitely would like to spend at least part of the year abroad and why not in the DR? As always, I stated right up front that I have no intention of bringing anyone to the US for any reason, ever. This suited her fine and her parents even more - no need to worry about some graying gringo stealing their daughter and granddaughter off to his far away land.
As my Christmas eve departure date neared, the tone became more and more commercial. As you know, I hate Christmas, as it is a symbol of how commercialism has taken over everything to the point where we can hardly remember what it is we're celebrating, so I was not pleased to say the least.
First came the gift list, which got longer. Then came subtle but clear changes in the agenda, with the sprinklings of romance replaced by meetings with parents and relatives and a businesslike tone that got me nervous.
The deal-breaker came in the form of a text message the day before my scheduled departure: "Pls send money right away." Hmmmm, sounded ominous, so we got on the blower and then on the internet to hash this out. After a lengthy discussion, it turned out that she wanted to buy a dress for her daughter. Now, there's an emergency if I have ever seen one. I thought the house was on fire or something.
Sincerely, I would have been happy to oblige and had even mentioned wanting to get something cool for the little girl, it wouldn't have been expensive, and I understood right from Day One that this was a package deal including daughter. It was the tone of the whole thing that set a new expectation: I could now see that in her mind I would be responsible for every breath Bianca and her daughter will draw for the rest of their natural lives!! YIKES, where's the door?
Now, I do some crazy stuff and I'll be the first to admit it. I wasn't looking for anything for free with Bianca, least of all with a budding lawyer, but that was a bit too much, so I feigned illness (I have been grappling with sniffles and a grip for a week or so, so it wasn't hard to do) and said sorry, can't make it, talk soon! Sure, if an old fart like me wants a charming young lady, she's going to want maturity and stability in a number of ways, money's one of them, but if it's at the top of the list it's probably not a good sign for the future. Put in another way, would she still like me if I was broke? (I am but she doesn't believe me, they never do hahaha!!!)
Let's get into this a bit mre. First, a disclaimer for the lady readers out there: this is written from a man's point of view. And, let's say, an extremely international point of view. Remember, I have spent more of my adult life outside the US/Canada than in it, so I have a different perspective.
The fact is that two times in a row the wrong expectations were somehow set. Make that three - a similar thing happened with the Colombian babe I went to visit in summer who really thought her role in life was to sit in the corner being beautiful while the whole world revolves around her. (A knockout babe no doubt - maybe that IS her role, it just won't be with me haha.)
Obviously, as a Project Manager who prides himself on Change Management above all else, I have been doing a poor job of having the result match with what was expected. Either that or these babes are keeping an ace up their sleeves until just the right moment (like AFTER I have spent a bundle on a plane ticket and am committed), then pull it out and start adding demands. I don't really think so, probably they feel that the money side of things is automatic and, anyway, all gringos are millionaires (so they think), so whatever they may want is peanuts, right?
There are two reasons why these girls want gringos: Virtually all of them have had bad experiences with their own men. The odds are stacked against these girls getting someone decent as the chauvinism is so ingrained in their value system. This makes it great for gringos, as your average schlepp like myself comes out smelling roses for just treating the girl like a lady.
For sure the other reason is the girls want a chance to go abroad (but this excludes me and my headline hollers out that I'm not bringing anyone here to USA because I do not want to commit to living here) and have a better life, or stay in their country and get a guy with some money. Not an original thought by any stretch. And why not? I think everyone has the right to a better life and a chance to get it, whether it means escaping in a boat or marrying or whatever.
So, in conclusion, I'm at the right Race Track, now I just need to bet on the right horse. I am in no rush whatsoever, at the rate I'm un-saving money I will not be headed to live in the Latin world any time soon. These girls are all super: they have good jobs, well-educated, good personalities, very sophisticated, beautiful, can actually perform household chores with great pleasure, etc., etc. I should know, I've been talking to them for almost THREE years on the internet. I can pick out the visa-seekers and phonies in about 10 minutes, maybe half an hour at most. My experience at Friendfinder was also invaluable in this context. We heard international broken heart stories every day. Of course, the years in Thailand were the most valuable, as the national sport for quite a few women is to find a gringo and relieve him of his savings.
I will not reveal any further details at this time, but suffice it to say that there are several backups in place in different countries. A good PM always has a backup plan for everything. If and when my plan to move to FL comes to fruition, it will be much easier to actually meet in person: it's 2 hours to the DR or 3 to Colombia from Miami!
Anyway, back to the story: A flurry of activity followed during which I re-arranged this week to take place in south Florida, which probably should have been my destination all along given the way the other two ideas turned out. I grabbed my laptop since it is my connection to the "real" world: I have no life in the Valley of Silliness, my body is there, I go out with my buddies, but my mind is long gone.....
I have had it in my mind to move to Florida for several years for a long list of reasons: my fading professional skill set, a feeling of mission accomplished in the Valley of Silliness, high cost of living, dislike of the cold weather, and proximity to my aged parents on the East coast. Add to that my love affair with the Latin world that has been budding over the last 3 years and a strategy was hatched:
A. look for a short gig in San Jose and put my house up for sale, then
B. find a place in Florida to live and move if the house gets sold before the gig arises,
C. collect California Unemployment Insurance while spending at a Florida rate while looking for a job in my Project Management space.
D. if that fails, look for a job involving my languages, and finally
E. go abroad and teach English, French, and/or German and wait out the economic crisis here in the USA. Not only would I gain experience, but in a year my Spanish would be fluent and I could still seek out employment in my Project Management space.
Anyway, so here I sit in my favorite little hotel in Miami on Christmas Day 2008. Today, I will relax, recover from the 3 hours time change, study the area, and guzzle beers at my favorite Cuban restaurant, the Airport Cafe. Check out the ham and cheese sandwich they sell for 5 bucks pictured below. The pic doesn't do it justice, the thing is a MONSTER. Haha. Here is a video of the Cuban place, it's a real TRIP, I love it. Check out the caboose on the Waitress while you're at it:
By the way, no sooner did I say on the video that I have never seen a gringo in the Cuban bar and sure enough, a whole bunch of them showed up. Check them out in the other photo at the top of this page. One of the waitresses said to the other in Spanish "I don't understand anything, do you?" HAHAHA.
Maybe I'll write a book about all my Internet romances!! Maybe that's what I'm already doing? haha.
Anyway, tomorrow, I will head up to Deerfield Beach in my Rent-A-Wreck car (that's the real name of the outfit! Well, at least they are cheap.)
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