How I Got a Residency Visa for Ecuador - Part I

If you follow me on social media then you are already aware that I finally received my Ecuadorian residency visa in November. Thus I had even more to be thankful for this Thanksgiving!

Celebrating the presidential election results.

I know many of you are interested in what the process of becoming an expat involves and what it costs. I will share my experience, keeping in mind that turnaround times were significantly impacted by government office closures and reduced work schedules due to the COVID pandemic. But first, a bit of background on my decision to move to another country.

I started researching the possibility of living in Ecuador in September 2019. At the time, I had been traveling solo through Central and South America for an entire year and had begun to make a list of the pros and cons of living in Latin America. Having already explored all 50 U.S. States and almost 100 countries around the world over the past 25 years, I have a pretty good sense of how to discern what I like and don’t like about a place and identify where would make a good home. I also had already decided that I no longer wanted to live in the United States at this point in my life, so I was open to all the possibilities. Ecuador checked off a lot of boxes on my list.

As a tourist with a U.S. passport, you can visit Ecuador for 90 days in a 365 day period without needing a visa. You’ll just get a standard stamp in your passport, and the immigration officer will handwrite the number 90 over the stamp. Those 90 days are cumulative, so if you leave the country for a few days or weeks after your first entry, the clock stops, and your time outside Ecuador does not count toward your total. However, unlike some other countries in the region, the clock does not reset when you reenter the country.

For example, you fly into Ecuador for the first time on January 1 and travel around the country for an entire month. Then you cross into neighboring Colombia and spend a month there. When you reenter Ecuador on March 1, you still have 59 days remaining (of your original 90). If you want to stay longer than that, you can apply at one of the Apoyo Migratorio offices for an extension on your tourist “visa." I ended up doing this in both 2019 and 2020; each time it cost me $131. This extension, called a prórroga, is valid for another 90 days, but this time it is a consecutive 90 days, meaning the clock does not stop if you leave the country during that time. Continuing with this example, your prórroga, which would have started on April 30 (your 91st day in Ecuador) is valid through July 29.

So now you’ve enjoyed 180 days (half a year!) in Ecuador and you’ve decided you want to stay even longer. There is one more extension you can get as a tourist, and it is valid for an additional 180 days. However, you must apply 30 days in advance of the expiration of your prórroga, you must have a health insurance policy issued by an Ecuadorian provider, and you must provide proof of sufficient funds to cover your stay. The government fee for this extension is $450. Note that you can only apply for this 180-day extension once every five years.

But what if you want to actually live in Ecuador? You’ll have to apply for a temporary residency visa. If you click on the link, which directs you to the Ministry of Exterior Relations website, you will see that there are more than 30 options for this type of visa. But the reality is that unless you are in Ecuador as a student, on a work or volunteer contract, or in some other very specific capacity, then you would only qualify for less than a handful of these visas. And while that aforementioned website does list the requirements for each type of visa, you will not find a government-issued how-to-apply guide anywhere.

I already knew from my thorough online research and reading posts in expat community groups on Facebook that, while it is possible to go through the visa application process on your own, there are many steps that are challenging to accomplish even in non-pandemic times. So I started contacting immigration attorneys who specialize in helping U.S. citizens obtain Ecuadorian residency. By the end of 2019 I had narrowed my list down to two attorneys based on their responsiveness and thoroughness in answering my questions via email and also based on the testimonials of other expats who had retained their services. I also contacted the Consulate of Ecuador in Atlanta, GA to verify the required documents and costs to decide if I could reasonably go through the process on my own.

I returned to the U.S. in January 2020 to finalize my divorce and to start preparing to file for my visa. Based on my previous communications with the attorneys and the consulate, I knew that I would have to complete this legal process and change my residence address before I applied, as all of your official documents need to have the same surname and mailing address. For the 16 months I was out of the country, I had been using my now ex-husband’s address in Portland, OR, plus my Oregon-issued driver license was going to expire in July. So I decided to "relocate" to Nashville, TN, to be closer to my family. My grandmother’s house would be my new, albeit temporary, residence for legal purposes.

By the time the divorce had been filed, all of the address changes had taken effect, and I had my new Tennessee driver license (issued on March 20, 2020), the world was in lockdown mode.

Stay tuned for my next post which explains how the pandemic affected my application process and details all of the documentation and costs of getting my residency visa.

90 Days in Ecuador

This past weekend marked three months since I became an unofficial expat. And it’s the first monthly anniversary since the day I arrived that I am not on the move again! Continue reading to find out why.

Embracing life in another country.

First things first… Since my residency visa is still in process (currently my immigration lawyers are having my US university degree registered with the Ecuadorian government as I am applying for a “professional” visa), I had to get an extension on my migratory status as a tourist. Last year I crossed the 90-day mark when I was in Galápagos for the second time. I was able to go to the immigration office in San Cristóbal and fill out a one-page application for the extension; it cost $131.33 and was processed in about 15 minutes.

Me on my last day in Galápagos in October 2019.

This year, due to the ongoing pandemic, the provincial government offices are open but are doing most work online. Unfortunately, it is not a straightforward process, so I had to ask my immigration lawyers for help. Thankfully they were able to file for the extension on my behalf (the cost is essentially unchanged from last year) and I received the prórroga via email yesterday. This allows me to stay in Ecuador for another 90 days (until 12/31/20), during which time I expect (hope!) to receive my residency visa. 

Ghost crab on the beach in Olón.

In case you are interested, I plan to write a detailed blog post about the entire process and costs for obtaining my residency visa as soon as it is issued.

Besides dealing with the ongoing legal process, I am staying busy with work and life in general.

My neighborhood cat friend, Bosco.

As I wrote about in my last post, I officially started working for Groundhopper Soccer Guides this past June. My job encompasses a lot of things but one of my recent tasks was to proofread and edit a 597-page manuscript i.e. the 2020-21 edition of The Groundhopper Guide to Soccer in England. If you have any interest in soccer at all, even if you don’t currently follow soccer in the UK, you will enjoy this book because it’s as much about the history and culture of the game as it is a travel guide. Email me at alethea@groundhopperguides.com to get your insider’s discount!

We just finalized the cover for this season's edition.

One of my favorite pastimes (besides watching games on TV) is walking a couple of blocks to the Olón stadium to see some of the local leagues play soccer. It is a unique cultural experience that, no matter what level of talent is on display, often involves children and dogs on the pitch, various types of food and drink vendors, a fair amount of cursing, and plenty of unpredictable moments.

Watching a local soccer game in Olón.

Besides work-related activities, I spend most of my spare time doing my best to learn more about local life. I enjoy chatting with the various shopkeepers and restaurant owners, fishermen I encounter on the beach or at the local seafood market, and vendors that pass by on bicycles or motorcycles. Some of my favorite experiences recently have been a direct result of these conversations, all of which take place in Spanish. There is no question that mastering the local language is an essential part of full cultural immersion if you plan to live abroad.

It takes dozens of men to haul in a fishing net this big by hand.

For exercise, and to take a break from screen time, I go for long walks on the beach. A few weekends ago I walked all the way from Olóncito to Las Nunez, which is a small town about five miles north of where I live. The best part about this walk is that you can stay on the beach the entire way as long as it’s not high tide. I saw lots of shorebirds, a few sea turtle nests, plenty of interesting waterfront houses, and, generally, very few people. I capped off the two-hour walk with a huge bowl of fresh ceviche and a large beer. Then I hopped on a local bus for a quick ride back to Olón.

Nest of an olive ridley sea turtle.

The following weekend I walked the opposite direction a few miles to Montañita, which unfortunately involves a solid 20-minute stretch along the busy main road. But I was rewarded for my efforts with continuous humpback whale sightings and beautiful views from the unique open-air sanctuary that sits high on a cliff above the ocean. After a filling lunch featuring fried calamari, I walked a bit farther south to check out a small arts and crafts fair, then doubled back to the only large-ish grocery store in this area to stock up on provisions.

View of Olón from the Santuario Blanca Estrella de la Mar.

It has now been two months since I moved to the coast and, as you can probably guess if you follow me on social media and see my almost-daily posts of beautiful sunsets, interesting wildlife, and other scenes from daily life; I don’t regret it! I love this town and my cozy, comfortable apartment just steps from the beach. It is the perfect place to work, rest, get fresh air, etc. I recently extended my lease until late December and will wait until I have my residency visa before making further plans.

Sunsets like this are just a few steps away from my apartment.

A Reason to Celebrate

I know many of you have wondered how I was able to make this international move during the pandemic, especially after having spent a large part of the past few years traveling extensively. The reality is that I have been preparing and planning for a big change like this for a long time, especially the past four years. While I didn't know for sure exactly when it would happen or where I would end up, I have always believed that, if you create opportunities and are open to all the possibilities, then you will be rewarded with the life you dream of. Thus, I am writing this post from the sunny beaches of my current home in Ecuador.

I also have some exciting news... In June, I officially became the first employee of Groundhopper Soccer Guides!

Here is a link to the newsletter that announces me as part of the team: The Groundhopper Issue #71.

And here is the link to the blog post that Paul and I wrote: Meet Alethea. I have excerpted part of it below, but I hope you will read the entire story on the website.

As always, I want to say thanks to my family, friends, and readers around the world who follow my adventures and cheer for my successes. All of your comments and likes inspire me to continue sharing!

From Paul Gerald, founder of Groundhopper Soccer Guides:

When I first came up with the idea that would become my book and, eventually, my business, I first sought out advice from the smartest person I knew. Several years later, in 2020 and with the business well up and running, I was ready to hire my first employee.

So again I sought out, and this time hired, the smartest and most organized person I knew. And it was the same person!

So say hello to Alethea Smartt, first employee of Groundhopper Soccer Guides. I like to say her last name needs the extra “t” because she’s just that damn smart. She will provide the administrative and organizational backbone while I do … whatever it is I do. Go to games and write, I suppose.

But she’s a lot more than smart and organized: For example, how many people do you know who have been a firefighter and a flight attendant? Also among the many interesting things about her, and about doing business in the modern age: She lives in Ecuador! So we’re a British football outfit based in Oregon with an employee in South America. Because why not?

And now I’ll let her say hello to you.

“Who are you?”

That’s the question Paul sent me in an email earlier this week asking me to introduce myself to you, the Groundhopper Guides community. There are books to be written on the subject (embed link here to Kickstarter campaign for my forthcoming autobiography — just kidding!) but, for now, let’s focus on how my life intertwines with the world of soccer.

Let’s start with, “Hi, my name is Alethea Smartt. Once you get to know me, you may discover that I’m one of the more interesting and unconventional people you’ll ever meet.” (Note from Paul: She is being a little silly, perhaps, but this is absolutely true.)

I have always been athletic and enjoyed competing in lots of different sports. I started playing soccer in high school as a way to stay active during softball’s off-season. I was a fullback and was selected for the All-District and All-Region teams during my senior year. I continued to play during college but eventually had to quit as I needed more time to study — Major in French, Minor in English Writing — and work as a firefighter and firefighting instructor. (Paul again: What did I tell you?)

I remember going to a friendly between the U.S. Women’s National Team and Sweden in 1997 and was thrilled to see my favorite players (Mia Hamm, Julie Foudy, Kristine Lilly, Michelle Akers) in person. I continued to follow world soccer and particularly enjoyed watching games when I was traveling to Europe for work during the early 2000s. I loved the sport enough to set an alarm for the pre-dawn hours to watch many of the 2010 World Cup matches in South Africa. I attended my first MLS match in 2009 in Seattle (Paul: I’ll just say I hope to hell they lost!) and, when I officially moved to Portland, OR in 2012, I became a devoted Timbers and Thorns fan. (Good choice.)

(From Paul: She also forgot the part where she worked in the beer industry for years. Talk about soccer-related experience! Check out CoasttoProst.com.)

Read more at https://groundhopperguides.com/meet-groundhopper-guides-employee-one-alethea/.

Another Month, Another Move, and An Anniversary

 It has now been over two months since I officially moved to Ecuador. As always, time is flying by! I am really enjoying life on the coast and, particularly, that I never feel cold. The weather continues to be mild, which also means overcast the majority of the time. But other than missing occasionally seeing the sun, I am happy to be here.

In Olón; my first sunset in an entire month!

After being closed for almost six months months due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the government has gradually been reopening the beaches to the public. As I mentioned in my last post, other than the lack of tourists, you almost wouldn’t know that there was a public health crisis based on observations of local behavior where I’ve been living in Montañita.

Fishermen transporting their boat across the beach in Montañita.

Most of the beaches in Santa Elena province reopened, with restrictions, on August 25. Many more throughout the country, including the popular malecon in Salinas, opened on September 1. The nationwide “estado de excepción,” which was instituted on March 16, officially ends in two days, signifying that there will no longer be curfews or the prohibition of public or private gatherings; however local authorities can regulate transit (like which cars can circulate on specific days), the consumption of alcohol in public venues like restaurants and bars, and opening hours for beaches. Basically the government says that it is now up to individuals to act responsibly to help prevent further spread of the virus.

A dog's view of the beach at Montañita.

During the past month I have gone on a couple of day trips to explore some nearby coastal areas. On August 15, I joined a couple of friends (one of whom owns a car) on an excursion to Salinas, 70 km and 1.5 hours south. They were scouting surfing spots; I went along to enjoy the scenery. At the time, all the beaches in that area were still officially closed, so we spent most of the day riding around, talking about how life has changed this year. Like many people in Montañita, my friend’s business is almost 100% based on tourism. He is more fortunate than others in that he had saved enough money to survive the past few months without a steady income.

The beach at Punta Carnero near Salinas.

On August 28, I took a local bus 46 km and one hour north to Puerto Lopez. I had previously visited the town, famous for whale-watching tours, in early September last year. Since I’ve been observing lots of whales over the past month while walking on the beach, I decided not to spend the money on a boat tour and, instead, enjoyed watching the fishermen at the bustling seafood market and ate a delicious freshly-made ceviche for lunch. I then backtracked to Rio Chico, a secluded beach that is accessible via a 20-minute walk from the main road. I spent the rest of the afternoon there enjoying the solitude and watching the surfers who come for the best waves during low tide.

A stretch of the mostly deserted beach in Rio Chico.

After one full month of living in Montañita, I moved a few kilometers north to the even smaller town of Olón last Saturday. Since I was nearby, I had the opportunity to come to Olón a couple of times in August to scout out potential accommodations. After looking at several different properties, I settled on a beautiful one-bedroom apartment just steps from the beach. It is much cleaner and quieter here, and I am thoroughly pleased with my decision to relocate. I have committed to staying here until mid-October and am currently researching options to return to Galápagos.

Home sweet home (and outdoor office) in Olóncito.

In other travel-related news, today is the anniversary of my departure from the U.S. on my life-changing Latin America adventure. This recent blog post provides a summary of everything that has happened in the past two years.

At Teotihuacan in Mexico on September 14, 2018.

As always, I am thankful for every day of health, happiness, and the ability to travel and live in this beautiful country! I continue to post daily updates and photos on my social media pages so be sure you’re following me on Facebook and Instagram if you want to see what life is like for this expat in Ecuador.

Shifting Perspectives: My First Month as an Expat in Ecuador during the Pandemic

On August 5th I “celebrated” one month of living in Ecuador. At the time I was still in Cuenca, a city of about 600,000 inhabitants (third-largest in the country) situated at over 8,000 feet above sea level in the sierra of the Andes in the southern region of Ecuador. Cuenca is known for being one of the cleanest and safest places to live in Ecuador, and is particularly popular among expats. The city has the highest literacy rate and the most skilled workforce in the country. The economy is mostly driven by textiles, farming, mining, and logging. The UNESCO-recognized city center is a tourist attraction as are nearby Cajas National Park and the well-preserved Inca ruins at Ingapirca.

The usually busy flower market near the main square in Cuenca is now quiet.

During my first month in Ecuador, I lived in two different apartments. The first was a spacious two bedroom, two bath apartment with a rooftop terrace featuring 360 degree views of the city and mountains. It was situated in a neighborhood about 20 minutes walking distance from the historic city center. As I was under a mandatory quarantine order for the first 14 days after my arrival in Ecuador, I was less concerned about the location and more about overall comfort and having plenty of space and all the amenities I might want. Plus the owners lived in the same building and were available to help me with shopping for food or anything else I might need.

Sunset from the roof of my first apartment in Cuenca.

After assessing the overall situation by observing activity on the streets from my rooftop perch and reading social media posts from other expats living in Cuenca, I eventually decided I could venture out every few days to go for a walk and purchase supplies at the local market. During that entire two weeks I never saw anyone outside without a mask, and every business, no matter what type, had protocols for entry including temperature checks, hand sanitizer, shoe cleaning mats, and often a disinfection tunnel/shower.

Mandatory mask use and social distancing on the new streetcar in Cuenca.

On July 20, I moved to another apartment closer to the city center. As much as I loved the first place, it was a bit expensive, and there weren’t that many options for shopping and dining nearby. Since I was now free to move around without restrictions i.e. no more quarantine, I wanted to be more centrally located.

The second apartment was a smaller two bedroom, 1.5 bath on the third floor of a multi-unit residential building (it's the middle building in the above video which shows workers spraying disinfectant on the streets). While it lacked some of the comforts and amenities of the first place, it made up for this in location, being only a 5-minute walk to a local market, 10 minutes to a large supermarket, and about 10 minutes to the historic center.

Mercado 12 de Abril near my second apartment in Cuenca.

By now I had a daily routine of going for a walk (usually including a stop at the market), cooking most meals at home, working online an average of three hours per day, watching a movie on Netflix in the evening, etc. It was a simple, low cost, and relatively stress-free mode of existence with only one small problem: I was cold all the time! I guess the block construction and orientation of the second apartment, which also lacked any form of heating, trapped the chill and dampness and made it feel colder inside than outside. I had to wear layers of clothes all the time, including socks, shoes and a jacket, even indoors.

While exploring the second apartment building, I discovered I could access the roof above the 5th floor.

In Cuenca, the average high in July is 68F and the low is 49. It rains at least 10 days out of 30 and is often foggy in the morning but gives way to sunshine and partly cloudy skies by midday. I personally love the climate and geography of Cuenca but, in planning to live in Ecuador indefinitely and only being able to check two pieces of luggage under the current restrictions, I did not bring many clothes suited for cooler temperatures.

Out for a walk in Cuenca.

Thus, after a full month of living in the mountains, I was ready for a change of scenery and some sunshine and warmth. On August 3, I traveled over three hours back to Guayaquil and then another three hours west and north to the coast.

Home sweet home in Montañita.

Upon my arrival in Montañita I was immediately shocked by the differences in pandemic-related protocols versus in Cuenca. Specifically, that they are almost non-existent. The majority of the people here do not wear masks in public and, other than signs reminding you to practice social-distancing, you won’t see disinfection tunnels, be subjected to a temperature check, or find hand sanitizer being liberally dispensed at shops and restaurants.

Just like the old days...

While the province of Santa Elena is still under the yellow light just like Azuay (where Cuenca is located), in the 10 days I have been here I have only seen the police do a safety check one time and that was on a national holiday (Independence Day, August 10). There were large gatherings of people without masks drinking alcohol and playing soccer on the beach, all of which is prohibited right now. The two policemen simply asked everyone that was grouped closer to the town center to disperse. Most just moved farther up the beach.

These guys were playing soccer on the beach closer to town and the police told them
to move away from the more populated area i.e. where there aren't security cameras.

The reality is that the beach, like almost all beaches in the country, is technically closed indefinitely and has been since mid-March, but there are no signs anywhere stating that you cannot access the beach or the ocean. Especially on weekends, you will find a number of beach-front restaurants and bars open and serving customers, many of whom are tourists from Guayaquil or other inland cities in Ecuador.

The beach is practically deserted most days.

There are two factors at play here. First, the local economy is almost 100% driven by tourism. Montañita, with around 1,000 inhabitants, is a year-round party destination for Ecuadorians and budget travelers. You can’t walk far without catching a whiff of a certain herbal substance being smoked openly and, in normal times, loud music blasts from discotecas and bars that stay open until the early morning. The streets are usually packed with shouting vendors, mobile cocktail bars, and friends laughing and swaying drunkenly.

One of several "cocktail alleys" is now dry.

Second, the population is much less educated and generally lives day-to-day, with no means of earning enough money to improve their standard of living. In times like this, i.e. the pandemic, which has brought tourism and therefore income to a complete standstill, they do not have many (or any) options other than just trying to survive. Many have abandoned their businesses and are forced to sell anything they have of value (e.g. property, electronics). And while the mood here is one of resignation, that this is how life is for now, still they will make the most of it. There is a sense that it is better to go out and do something versus staying at home and doing nothing... Some will live, some will die, and that is life.

In spite of my mild concerns about health and safety, I have decided to stay here for an entire month, maybe longer. I managed to rent a rustic but functional two-bedroom apartment directly from the owner, a young woman who owns a hostel here in Montañita. She and her boyfriend live in the apartment downstairs and I have the entire second floor with its own private entrance. The only real grocery store in town is less than five minutes walk away and the town center is less than 10 minutes.

A panorama of the deserted town center of Montañita.

As I write this blog post I am sitting outside on my screened-in porch and I can hear the ocean one block away. The only other sounds are the birds chirping in the large trees that surround this property, the next-door-neighbor’s children playing, the occasional vendor who drives by selling fruits and vegetables or seafood or 20-liter jugs of water, and the airbrakes of the local buses slowing for speed bumps as they travel along the main coastal road known as the Ruta del Spondylus.

The E15 highway, aka Ruta del Spondylus, has very little traffic these days.

It is 75F with about 80% humidity so I am comfortable wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals. The past two days have been overcast and rainy, but the sun is finally coming out again and I can see blue sky. Most mornings I walk to the store or into town to buy fresh produce and other necessities, then I work for most of the afternoon and cap off the day with a long walk on the beach around sunset.

Walking the beach in Montañita at sunset.

Life is simple, and life is good.

*******

In case you are wondering about overall infection rates and other statistics regarding COVID-19 in Ecuador, the Ministry of Public Health publishes the current numbers every day on their website. Here’s the latest report:

Also, be sure to check out my Facebook and Instagram pages for more photos and videos from my world travels and (now) life in Ecuador.

A New Beginning: Independence Day 2020

First, a disclaimer. I honestly had no idea that the last post I published was in November 2019 which is over eight months ago now. I switched to writing more long-form posts on Facebook and Instagram versus using my blog. My apologies for not being more consistent; I really do have a lot to say about everything that has happened in the past year and, overall, about my travels in Central and South America.

Me, testing my limits, in a cave (Jumandi) in Ecuador in December 2019.

For now, here's a recap:

After packing up my relatively few possessions to store in a friend's basement, I said goodbye to my husband and friends in Portland, OR and flew to Nashville, TN on August 30, 2018. I spent a couple of weeks visiting with my family and making final preparations for my trip, then I flew to Mexico City on September 11. From there I traveled a total of 489 days visiting 15 countries and 184 cities throughout Central and South America.

Celebrating Independence Day in Mexico City on September 15, 2018.

I carried a 26” wheeled duffel bag that weighed 40 lbs and an 11.5” laptop backpack that weighed 15 lbs. I wore the same clothes over and over, and never bought anything new until the last few months of my trip.

My suitcase and backpack in a dorm in Santa Ana, El Salvador.

I stayed in hostel dorms the majority of the time. That means I slept in a twin bed, often a bunk, in a room with strangers and we all shared one or a few communal bathrooms. The nice thing about traveling this way, besides saving money, is that you meet other travelers from all over the world. I made many new friends who I continue to stay in touch with and hope to see again someday.

Sometimes hostels have house pets like this one in Salta, Argentina.

With only a few exceptions, I traveled alone the entire time. I used almost every imaginable mode of transportation, from airplane to horseback. One of these, a bicycle, resulted in the only injury I sustained during the entire trip: a badly sprained left wrist while I was in Galapagos in September 2019. The injury forced me to change my plans to travel down the Amazon River into Brazil at the end of the year, but it didn’t stop me from continuing to travel in Ecuador and Colombia for a few more months.

This photo was taken about about an hour after the bicycle accident.

Yes, I continued to ride for several more hours even though I knew I had injured my wrist.

Of course, I also got sick. I had a few sinus infections and several bouts of intestinal illness that likely were a result of eating contaminated food. But the only time I ever went to a doctor was when I had the bike accident. As luck would have it, my 364-day travel insurance policy had just expired a few days before the accident. However, in Ecuador, public health care is free, and I was treated for my injuries (including x-rays, two casts, and multiple doctor visits as well as physical therapy) and did not have to pay anything.

Cast and all... I still made the most of my time in Galapagos.

I think it’s really important to mention that I learned to speak Spanish, which made traveling in Latin America a much more rewarding (and overall better) experience. I started building my vocabulary using the Duolingo app every night for 30 minutes for a few months prior to my departure from the U.S. In October 2018, I lived in a friend’s home (alone) in Guatemala for the entire month and studied Spanish, primarily by watching Professor Jason’s YouTube videos, an average of three hours per day. In November 2018, I took 32 hours of one-on-one classes at Copan Spanish School in Honduras. I continued to study on my own and improved rapidly by resolving to only speak Spanish, except when talking to my family in the U.S. or when I met another traveler who did not know the language. Finally, in November 2019, I took another 20 hours of advanced Spanish at Lingua Viva in Cali, Colombia.

My teacher Dunia and I at Copan Spanish School.

I enjoyed all of the countries and places I visited, but I particularly loved the Galapagos for the laid-back lifestyle, sense of community, and, of course, for the abundant nature. Even though I knew it would be almost impossible to live in the islands due to very strict residency laws, I decided to spend more time in Ecuador to find out if it was the best match for me in terms of a place I could see myself living for awhile. Once I had maxed out the number of days I could stay in Ecuador without a visa (180), I returned to the U.S. to start planning for the future.

My friend Adena and I drove down to the Florida Keys and
visited some breweries on one of my first days back in the U.S.

I landed in Miami on January 13, 2020. After visiting with friends there and in Houston for one week, I flew to Portland. I spent a couple of weeks visiting with friends, sorting through my personal belongings to get rid of some excess, and I met with a lawyer.

Fun times with friends in Houston.

As most of you already know, Greg and I formally ended our marriage earlier this year. We had looked for many solutions over the years to find a way to be happy together but, in the end, nothing could change the fact that our lives were going in opposite directions. We split amicably, and our divorce was finalized in April.

Greg, my mom and stepdad joined me for a two-week cruise
from Buenos Aires to Santiago in February 2019.

I flew from Portland to Nashville on February 4 and spent a few weeks visiting my family. However, after a month of being back in the U.S. and, particularly, dealing with the legal process of the divorce, I was a bit stressed and needed a break.

On the beach in Puerto Escondido, Mexico.

For me, the easiest escape was to Mexico, where I ended up spending eighteen days traveling from Mexico City to Acapulco to Puerto Escondido and through Oaxaca. Unlike my recent travels, this was pure vacation. I was less worried about sticking to a strict budget and instead focused on enjoying my time to the fullest. In short, it was absolutely fabulous, and I came back replenished and looking forward to getting things done and visiting more friends and family in the U.S.

Tornado damage less than one mile from my grandmother's house.

I landed in Nashville on March 2, a few hours before an EF-3 tornado devastated the city and surrounding areas, coming within ½ mile of my grandmother’s house in Hermitage where I was startled awake by the warning sirens, cell phone alerts, and roaring wind. It was a terrifying and traumatizing event that reminded me how the future is never guaranteed and, therefore, it is so important to make the most of every day.

A family gathering after my mom's surprise 70th birthday party.

In spite of the chaos caused by the tornado and the unsettling news of a deadly virus that had recently made its way to the U.S., my sister and I still followed through with our months-long plan to host a surprise 70th birthday party for our mother on March 7. A few days later, on March 11, my mom and I flew to Canada for her birthday vacation. We had a wonderful time exploring Ottawa, Montreal, and Quebec City.

My mom and I had a wonderful time in Canada!

We kept a close eye on the news but were still shocked as we watched popular tourist sites close their doors indefinitely and once-busy public places become strangely silent. Not wanting to gamble on the possibility of the border closing, we flew back to the U.S. on March 18. The experience of traveling that day, on planes with only a dozen other passengers and through airports that were essentially empty, reminded us of what it was like immediately after the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001.

The empty immigration hall at Montreal's airport.

Our vacation together was a life-affirming bright spot in what would soon become a previously unimaginable descent into chaos and uncertainty around the world. I had to make a quick decision as to where I would go (or stay) for the indefinite future. While it was tempting to go back to Mexico (most other countries had already closed their borders and imposed strict stay-at-home orders) where I could rent an apartment for a few months relatively cheaply, I ultimately decided to stay with my grandmother so I would be able to help her if and when things shut down in Tennessee.

Celebrating my nephew's 20th birthday in June.

As we all know now, the U.S. as a whole and the majority of states did (and continue to do) a horrible job in their response to the virus. As weeks turned into months with no end in sight, I focused on the future. More specifically, I hired an attorney to help me navigate the visa process for becoming a resident of Ecuador and started gathering all of the necessary documentation for the application.

A rainbow over the complex where my grandmother lives.

There were a lot of ups and downs in the 109 consecutive days I was in Nashville during the pandemic. I stayed busy organizing all of my accounts, reading, writing, studying Spanish, talking to friends on the phone, helping a neighbor whose mother was in hospice, and caring for my grandmother. I am thankful for the quality time I did get to spend with my family and a few friends, even while social distancing and wearing masks. But, of course, I am also sad that I didn’t get to visit my friends along the east coast or to travel anywhere at all as I had originally planned.

One of the few social outings I enjoyed during my final month in the U.S.:
Lunch and a long walk with Heidy and Ivy.

With my birth country falling apart at the seams and countries around the world starting to impose travel restrictions specifically on U.S. citizens, I decided that if I wanted to get back to Ecuador this year, I should probably leave as soon as possible. After a nine-hour layover in Miami where I spent a relaxing day with Adena and Raul, on July 4, 2020 a few minutes before midnight and exactly one year to the day I first visited the city of Guayaquil, I landed in my new home country. Thus for me, going forward, Independence Day will always be a time to celebrate new beginnings.

In the pool at Adena's house in Miami on July 4.