Last week I returned from a four week trip that included my first return to the US in 7 years, as well as trips to Panama, Belize and the Dominican Republic, Thank God my health has so improved that despite being very busy and tired, I came back healthier than I left. It seems like the I am finally on the mend on a more permanent basis.
I thought that perhaps after 7 years, I might experience some twinge of homesickness upon my return to Florida–but instead, I found it even more foreign than the last time I was there.
Certainly, some things were simpler to get done there; and traveling alone, having almost everything handicapped accessible was really nice. But I was forced to travel alone because the US Embassy here was, as to be expected TOTALLY UNCOOPERATIVE in arranging a Visa for one of my assistants to accompany me. As far as I can tell, from multiple dealing with the US Embassy here, apparently they think the Americans with Disabilities Act does not apply to them, and I have had less cooperation and more downright obstructionism from the Embassy than from any other source in my entire travels.
Nevertheless, I was able to get around in Florida quite nicely–I rented a Chevrolet Suburban, which was big enough for me to drive and flew into Orlando via Panana. Doing that saved me hours clearing Customs and Immigration in Miami, which is a particularly onerous form of purgatory…
After that it was a 2-hour drive to Clearwater and my hotel.
The most important things I did were personal; I spent a lot of time with my nephew and his fiancé, went to my home church, and, for the first time was able to visit my brother’s grave. (As some of you may remember, he died the day I left Costa Rica to move here.)
The negative things that I noticed were a few incidents of anti-white racism: one blantant by a “Best Buy” employee; another was that there were simply too many choices for everything in every store. After living outside the US for 12 years, I can’t deal with 37 kinds of everything, when I have grown accustomed to 3 or 4–it really made shopping a lot of work.
The amazing thing was that every time I thought of home, it was here in El Pinar, not anyplace in the US.
Uruguay is not perfect, it certainly has its problems, and is no longer even a particular inexpensive place to live.
Nevertheless, it is home. While I was gone, I missed the people, the culture–the myriad little things that make a place home.
I was happy and relieved to return. Even better, on Wednesday my nephew and his fiancé will be visiting for 10 days. If everything goes as planned, they will return to Florida and start packing to move here ASAP.
Sin dudas, Uruguay es mi hogar–without doubts Uruguay is my home.
In my next post(s) I will talk a bit about the “retirement havens” so much promoted by International Living and some others with a pecuniary interest in promoting them…
