Though Rosy Rios and Doug Ancel of Reno, Nevada, knew they wanted to run a B&B in Costa Rica, they never intended to build one from the ground up. But that’s what happened on the way to their Hideaway Hotel, which opened in 2008.

First, they chose the place, driving the length of the Nicoya Peninsula, looking for a beach town with enough tourist infrastructure to run a business but without the overbuilding and overreaching that can spoil a place.

They came equipped, with backgrounds in business, real estate and construction, and a chunk of savings that would let them take a good shot at their dream. Rosy spoke Spanish, and Doug was learning.

Looking to Buy

Once they settled on Playa Samara, halfway down the peninsula and with a sweeping half-moon beach washed by waves gentle enough for swimming, they had local realtors show them what was on offer.  They looked inland, “in the jungle,” but it was too hot. Places in the town of Samara were “too noisy—roosters, cars, and chain saws,” says Rosy. And when they liked the location, the building didn’t seem right.

They remember that one realtor showed them a hotel, assuring them, “If you buy this, I guarantee you’ll make your money back in 5 years.” Being familiar with the ups and downs of real estate and business, Doug and Rosy knew that a realtor should never in good conscience make such assurances. They put their guard up even higher.

Howler monkey at the Hideaway Hotel, Playa Samara, Costa Rica; photo by Doug Ancel

One day, after months of searching, they turned off the coast highway onto a one-lane road that ran straight to the southern end of Playa Samara. Wouldn’t it be great, they agreed, to have a place within walking distance of the beach? But there were no hotels for sale on that road.

A little later, in April 2004, they heard through the grapevine that a German woman was selling a 1-acre parcel of land on the very road that inspired their ‘wouldn’t it be nice’ musings. It wasn’t listed with any realtors.

Doug and Rosy looked at the land and loved it. But it had no structures on it; their dream had been to buy and renovate an existing hotel.

The location, however, was perfect, and the price wasn’t half-bad. And so, after checking to make sure they’d have easy access to water, electricity, and phone line, and after some back-of-envelope calculations and late-night soul-searching, they decided to go for it. They did what most people moving to a new country or starting a business have to do at some point: change the master plan in order to accommodate an opportunity that may not come your way again.

Building a dream, from the ground up

Anyone who’s ever built a house or a hotel knows what comes next. It took Doug and Rosy a little over four years from purchase of property to opening the Hideaway Hotel in July 2008. I’m sure they could write a book about those four years, but here are a few high (and low) points.

Building the Hideaway Hotel in Playa Samara; photo by Doug Ancel

They knew what they wanted-a clean, contemporary design, high-quality construction to North American/European standards, and about a dozen spacious rooms. They wanted a pool, landscaped grounds, and a modern wastewater system that would allow them to irrigate the grounds with gray water and to give North American guests the privilege of flushing toilet paper instead of putting it in a waste container next to the toilet, which is the Tico style.

They got a good lawyer (key to getting anything done in Costa Rica), who introduced them to an architect who had a good reputation. “But he didn’t deliver,” says Rosy, so they set up meetings with several architect/ builder pairs, chose their favorite, and got to work. “The design process took some time,” continues Rosy “We wanted to be sure to choose the finishes, tile, granite, etc. ourselves.”

The permit process was also challenging. “We were held up in SETENA for 6 months,” Rosy says. “Apparently SETENA [the Secretaria Tecnica Nacional Ambiental] was backed way up at the time.”

“We were ‘next in line,’” adds Doug, “for a good 5 or 6 months.”

The web site costaricalaw.com explains, “the sole mission of SETENA is the administration of the process to review and evaluate environmental impact considerations. Builders and real estate developers cringe when they hear the word SETENA.”

“But our building permit didn’t take much time,” says Rosy. “You just present plans to the municipality and pay the fees.”

The pool before it was a pool at the Hideaway Hotel in Playa Samara; photo by Doug Ancel

Once construction got underway, Doug stayed on site as much as possible to oversee the work. The builder went over budget, and there were construction delays. But when the Hideaway Hotel opened its doors in 2008, it all seemed worth it. “Local realtors couldn’t believe it,” says Doug. They said, ‘You guys actually opened! So many projects end up unfinished ruins.’”

Their hotel is indeed no ruin; it’s a lovely place with the sort of amenities you really appreciate after having been on the road for while, from the spacious shower to the mini-fridge to blackout curtains for the times you need to adjust to jet lag or turn in early to make a wee-hours flight the next day. A hundred feet from your poolside breakfasts are trees often full of howler monkeys.

Advice on opening a B&B in Costa Rica

I asked Rosy and Doug if they have any advice for opening a B&B or a hotel in Costa Rica.

“Find one that’s been built,” Rosy laughs ruefully, although she also says she feels proud of how well their from-the-ground-up building turned out.

“It takes time to grow a business,” says Doug. “So you need operating reserves to tide you over. We planned not to make any money the first years,” he smiles, “And so far, we’re right on plan.”

But even in the months after I visited, their was an uptick in guests, and the hotel is getting great press in guidebooks and online-when I last looked they were the #2 Samara hotel on Trip Advisor. I have little doubt that the next few years will bring even more visitors and a return on their investment, both in financial and life-satisfaction terms. After all, they dreamed a dream and then, with hard work and imagination, they made it happen. It’s all part of the (somewhat flexible) master plan.

Photo of finished version of the Hideaway Hotel by David W. Smith

With the new immigration reforms that go into effect in Costa Rica on March 1, expats who are legal residents in Costa Rica must enroll in the national healthcare system called the Caja, which gives them low-cost access to neighborhood clinics, pharmacies, and public hospitals.

Some Costa Rica expats are satisfied with Caja (public) care; others opt to supplement or replace it with private care, paid out of pocket or through national or international health insurance.

One whole-hearted and one half-hearted fan of the Caja (Costa Rica’s national healthcare)

San Ramon-based expat Stephen Duplantier, 65, is a Caja fan. “We are very happy with it,” he said recently. “It’s US$18/month (a discounted rate through Association of Residents of Costa Rica–the ARCR). We go to local EBAIS (a neighborhood clinic), where there’s an excellent doctor and excellent nurses, plus all pharmaceuticals are free. Recent surgeries, diagnostic tests, ER use, pharmacy, etc.–all are totally free and high quality, and the waiting time is equal to our experience in the States.”

I agree that the Caja can be great for routine care, but when I found I needed surgery, I moved from the public to the private realm. I’d been part of the Caja system, paying around $60/month at the age of 41 and happily using their neighborhood clinics for routine care, tests, and medications. But when it became clear that I would need a major procedure, I defected to private care, opting to pay out of pocket (I’d let my U.S. insurance lapse). I was happy with the care at private Clínica Bíblica, though the final price for my stay, while quite low in comparison to U.S. prices, was still more than twice what I’d been quoted in a formal estimate.

Two that had bad experiences at public Costa Rica hospitals

Others are not so happy with the Caja.

After a motorcycle accident in Costa Rica, Matt Hogan sampled both public and private hospitals. Photo: David W. Smith

Take Matt Hogan, 35, co-founder of Finca Bella Vista, a sustainable treehouse community near the Osa Peninsula. In late 2009 he had a motorcycle accident, and was taken to the newly opened public hospital in Ciudad Cortéz. “All the newspapers had been boasting about the brand-new, state-of-the-art facilities and medical equipment, 300 clean new beds, and the rest,” says Matt. What the newspaper accounts failed to mention, according to Matt, was that all those new beds were serviced by only a few doctors who showed up only once in a while. Matt says he suffered serious neglect and misdiagnosis (they told him he was fine). Feeling anything but fine, he had himself driven by ambulance to San José and checked himself into private Clínica Bíblica. There he was found to have one collapsed lung and the other in mid-collapse, as well as severe internal bleeding in his chest cavity. The doctors at Bíblica said that if Matt had waited another day to seek proper care he most likely would have suffocated.

Matt was very happy with the care he received at Bíblica, adding with a smile that “all the nurses were very attractive young Ticas.”

Alex Murray after being released from a 20-day hospital stay.

In another example, Alaska native Alex Murray, 72 at the time of a fire that burned over 20 percent of his body, endured an extended hospital stay that also allowed him to compare private and public care in Costa Rica.

“While expat friends with residency have had important procedures successfully performed at slight cost in the public system,” he says. “I recommend avoiding it in life-threatening situations if at all possible.”

Alex was burning garden trash at his home in the Lake Arenal region when he spilled some gas, causing the fire to flare up and burn him over much of his body. Alex spent the next 20 days in two hospitals in the capital city of San Jose, first at the public Hospital San Juan de Dios, and then at private Clínica Bíblica.

“Of course,” he admits, “it’s a foregone conclusion that such a comparison is unfair to the underfunded public hospital, but the devil’s in the personal details.”

Alex was first picked up by a Red Cross ambulance and taken to a clinic in nearby Tilarán. Then he was moved to the public hospital in Liberia (about an hour north), where the doctors decided to send him to the burn unit at San Juan de Dios (a public hospital) in the capital city of San José, 4 hours away.

“Arriving in San Jose,” says Alex, “we should have directed the driver immediately to Bíblica or Clinica Católica [two private hospitals], but, ignorant of the quality of the public hospital and anxious to get treatment, we let the driver take us to the teeming mystery that is San Juan.”

Hospital San Juan de Dios in Costa Rica

Three days at a Public Hospital: San Juan de Dios

“In our three days there,” says Alex, “no doctor ever consulted us, though one led a group of students into my room each day. The nurses, male and female, sometimes seemed like the proverbial five or six workmen who stand around a pothole gabbing while one guy fills the hole. For the most part, they were not dedicated, not attentive, not very competent, and not sympathetic. They seemed the dregs of the nursing schools. A friendly nurse assigned to draw blood samples spent three days drilling mostly dry holes all over my landscape, partly due to my extremely low blood pressure. One rough middle-aged nurse told me that I was not much hurt nor in pain. I finally had to yell at her, “Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me.” She desisted, smiling to herself, it seemed.

“A night crew came on and half-heartedly started to bathe me and change my dressings. Three stood on one side of the bed and made little come-hither motions with their fingers. Two stood on the other side and made little shooing gestures. Finally, they decided to help me turn.

“They would not let my wife sleep in one of the three extra beds crowded into my room. Instead she spent her nights trying to sleep in a plastic chair. In the not-very-clean bathroom, she found bloody bandages in a corner.”

Clínica Bíblica in Costa Rica

Seventeen Days at a Private Hospital: Clínica Bíblica

Alex and his wife decided that they needed to move him to a private facility. “When I was admitted to Clínica Bíblica,” he says, “I recognized immediately that here was a competent staff. The emergency room nurse quickly found a vein and soon had a set of color-coded vials filled with my blood. All staff were purposeful and attentive.

“The next evening I began to rave and tried to tear off my bandages and leave the hospital. A doctor soon arrived and said my actions were due to a lack of oxygen to the brain. I was then moved to intensive care where a coma was induced and I was intubated, remaining thus for five days, not a reassuring sight for my four daughters who arrived from points around the globe.

“I doubt that these measures would have been taken at San Juan de Dios. Three doctors tended me at Bíblica, one a burn doctor, one a plastic surgeon who moved skin from my thigh to my hip, and one a staff doctor. They each came by almost every day to talk with us. The nursing staff was a no-nonsense but friendly and attentive group, evidently the better graduates of the nursing schools. Midway through my stay, physical therapists began visiting daily to exercise my wasted muscles. When I left, I had lost 14 pounds and could walk only a few steps unassisted, but I was recovering.

“And throughout my stay, my wife was permitted to sleep on a narrow built-in bed or cot in each room. “

For more information on health care in Costa Rica, see Living Abroad in Costa Rica by Erin Van Rheenen, or visit www.livingabroadincostarica.com.

Dear Miss Move Abroad.
I’m an executive and I travel a good deal for my work. I’ve visited 41 countries on five continents. I’ve had the dubious pleasure of meeting many so called “expats” and have come to this conclusion: Most expats are losers who can’t cut it at home. I’ve yet to meet an expat, anywhere in the world, that makes me say to myself, Now there’s a winner!”

You’re Miss Move Abroad, so I don’t expect you to agree with me. But I dare you to print my letter.

Been There, Met Them

Dear Mr. Been,
How did you know that I can never resist a dare? That’s probably why I’ve lived in so many different places over the years, loser that I am.

But believe it or not, I can see where you might come to your conclusion. Many people flee their home country to escape—from the law, from child support payments, or from their own unfathomable selves. And it’s true that in expat communities all over the world you’ll find some pretty shady characters, people who come for lax law enforcement, the cheap drugs, the discounted sex. Those who in their home countries are either unwanted or wanted (think notices on post office walls).

This, however, is only one of the many varieties of expat, and your views make me suspect that you’re a Layover Larry, with your experience heavy on airports and underlings. Have you ever been to the homes of your colleagues overseas? Do you stay on after your business is concluded, to see what the place is like without your “work” filter operating? You may also be unwittingly narrowing your experience of a place. Do you work hard all day in a sequestered setting and then spend your nights in an expat bar surrounded by herds of expaticus alcoholicus complaining about the natives as they slowly slide off their barstools? Needless to say, these folks aren’t the best representatives of the expat species.

If you take a little more time and seek out other kinds of expats, you might find Peace Corps volunteers, academics or scientists chasing after their subjects, students on a gap year abroad, artists and writers looking for new material or a place cheap enough so that they can concentrate on their vocation rather than on being a wage slave, students of the language or culture, parents who want to broaden their kid’s horizons, or retirees who can finally live where they want regardless of work opportunities.

And Mr. Been, if I may ask, what exactly would cause you to exclaim, “Now there’s a winner?” Seeing yourself in the mirror? Does a person have to match up exactly with your version of success to be worthy? Sounds like you’re ripe for a long-term experience in a radically different culture, if only to show you that there are many, many definitions of success, many of which will look nothing like yours.

U.S. senior citizens living in Mexico should have their medical care covered by Medicare, says Paul Crist, a former senator’s aid who now lives in Puerto Vallarta. In the current debate over health care, Crist’s idea seems to be gaining ground.

Right now, retired U.S. citizens cannot claim Medicare benefits for treatment received in Mexico—or Costa Rica, or France, or anywhere else in the world, for that matter–even though they paid into the Medicare system throughout their working lives.

Crist, a former aid to Sen. Paul Sarbanes, D-Md., recently founded the non-profit Americans For Medicare In Mexico, which has lobbied 85 members in the U.S. Congress to get Medicare accepted south of the border.

Estimates of how many Americans live in Mexico (and abroad in general) vary, but the influential Association of Americans Resident Overseas puts the figure at 1,036,300. Crist says perhaps 200,000 of the Americans living in Mexico are eligible for Medicare, with about two-thirds of those seniors returning to the U.S. for medical treatment.

Not only would extending Medicare to Mexico be the right thing to do—if you pay into the system, you should receive the benefits—but Crist maintains in a Forbes article that such a program would also save the U.S. government a lot of money. Studies show that health care services are up to 70% less expensive in Mexico than in the U.S.

In Mexico, a visit to a doctor’s office often runs between $30 and $40, according to MedToGo, while a hospital room costs $90 to $100 a night. Besides private health care insurance, the Mexican Institute of Social Security (which goes by the Spanish initials IMSS) provides affordable, if basic, health insurance for all Mexican residents, regardless of nationality.

If Medicare were accepted in Mexico, says Crist, many of the American retirees currently flying back to the U.S. for expensive care would instead opt for treatment nearer their homes, cutting Medicare’s overall costs.

Program would need controls

An article in the Guadalajara Reporter notes that if Medicare is extended to Mexico, the program would only work with health care providers with Joint Commission International (JCI) accreditation . The JCI provides a certification process for health care facilities throughout the world.

Crist says ten hospitals in Mexico already have JCI accreditation and another 23 are seeking approval. Among those already approved are the American British Padre Hospital and the Santa Fe Hospital in Mexico City and the Christus Muguerza Hospital and the Hospital Tec de Monterrey in Monterrey.

Mexico would no doubt welcome Medicare funding, just as they welcome the increase in medical tourism to their country.

Research done by the Association for Private Hospitals in Jalisco reveals that of the 21.5 million tourists who visited Mexico in 2006, about 160,000 – mostly Americans – came for medical attention.

Response from Congress

Crist say that response to his plan to bring Medicare to Mexico has been  “quite positive, especially on the House side.”

But Forbes reports that the offices of Reps. Jim McDermott, D-Wash., Carolyn Maloney, D-N.Y., and other sympathetic legislators have also told Crist that this year they have too much on their plate, and that it would be politically wiser to introduce a stand-alone Mexico-Medicare bill next year, separate from the complex health care reform package currently working its way through Capitol Hill.

There are also calls for an in-depth three-year Mexico-Medicare pilot project to determine whether Mexican health care meets Medicare’s quality standards and determine if the payment system is sufficiently free of fraud.

Photo by Linda Parker.

It’s the last day of your vacation. Far from being ready to go, you find yourself wondering: What if the flight home leaves and I don’t?

If you seriously consider what it would be like to stay behind every time you travel, you may be a closet expatriate for whom a week at the beach or 10 days in Europe just don’t cut it anymore.

You find yourself dreaming longer-term dreams: a top-floor apartment in an old-world capital. An open-ended stay in a ramshackle village on some forgotten coast. Opening a bed-and-breakfast in a mountain town.

More and more of us are doing it. Between 1966 and 1996, the number of Americans living abroad grew from 70,000 to 4 million, according to the U.S. State Department. By 2006, the number was an estimated 6.6 million. And those are the official counts. Other expats are living under the radar, having dropped off the map.

If you’re past the dreaming stage and want to check out a place for its long-term potential, here are some tips on how to do it.

Stay put. If you’re thinking of moving to a particular place, you’ve probably been there at least once or twice. This time, choose the town or city you liked best and stay there. Rent a villa, find a cheap hotel with a kitchenette or stay with friends.

If you dash around too much you’ll never get a sense of the country’s rhythm. And rhythm is all. It may be love at first sight, but if the beat of the place doesn’t move you, this affair won’t last.

Do everyday things. Forget the monuments, the guided tours or running those Class IV rapids. Instead, get a haircut. Do your laundry. Go with the woman next door to pay her electric bill. Shop for food and make dinner. Gossip with the man selling fennel root. Take in a church service or go to the all-you-can-eat fundraiser for the town’s fire department.

If these activities are difficult because you don’t speak the language, that tells you what you would be up against if you moved there without some language study.

Sit and watch. Find a good perch at the center of it all, and stay there. Have some props — a drink and a book — to make you feel less conspicuous. Practice the lost art of noticing. Does everything shut down between 2 and 5 p.m.? Does the town consist mostly of older women, the men and younger people having fled to the city in search of work? Is it so hot that people work the edges of the day, leaving the midday for naps in the shade?

Take photos of mundane things. The state of the roads. Highway signage (or the lack of it). The prices on menus. What’s available at the local market. The lines at the bank. The cleanliness of the beaches or streets or fields. The smiles or scowls on locals’ faces. The wildlife and insect populations.

Back home, these shots will remind you of the quality of everyday life in your dream destination. Memory plays tricks on us, and once you get home the trip will soon be shrouded in a fog of generalization. We tell friends the trip was life-altering, but we have forgotten (or altered) the particulars. This will help.

Talk to other expatriates. Find them in the market, at Internet cafes and on that traditional expat perch, the bar stool. Ask them when and why they came to be there and how it’s turning out for them. And then listen.

Try not to let your own excitement amplify their positive comments or mute their complaints. Nod when they say making the move was the best decision they have ever made. But also really hear it when they tell you it has taken three years to get permission to renovate the old castle they bought for a song. Or that they’re so starved for English they go out of their way to use the one bilingual ATM in town, just to savor the words, “Would you like a receipt?”

Wherever you go, do some of the very non-vacationy things listed above and you may come back knowing that, yes, you really do want to make the big move and soon. Or you may return with a newfound appreciation of home. Sometimes all it takes to value what you have is to seriously think about giving it up.

And consider what author Alain de Botton discovered on a trip to Barbados. “A momentous but until then overlooked fact was making itself apparent,” he wrote in “The Art of Travel.” “I had inadvertently brought myself with me to the island.”

This article by Erin Van Rheenen first appeared in the Los Angeles Time.

Photo by Robert Doisneau, 1966

When the U.S. State Department issues a swine fly alert in Argentina, say, or a warning against travel to Honduras, just what does that mean?  What is a Travel Alert? How does it differ from a Travel Warning? And how should they affect your travel and relocation plans?

Travel Alerts
U.S. State Department Travel Alerts refer to short-term conditions (like flu epidemics) that pose risks to the security of U.S. citizens (and others, of course, but the State Department concerns itself with U.S. citizens). Their web site clarifies the Travel Alert designation further:

“Natural disasters, terrorist attacks, coups, anniversaries of terrorist events, election-related demonstrations or violence, and high-profile events such as international conferences or regional sports events are examples of conditions that might generate a Travel Alert.”

The Alerts have expiration dates. For example, a Mexico alert, which centered around crime and violence (especially along the U.S.-Mexico border), expired August 20, 2009 (though alerts may be renewed at their expiration dates, as this one was).

Just because there’s a Travel Alert in place doesn’t mean you should necessarily cancel your trip. In the case of Mexico, for instance, even the Alert itself allows that

“Millions of U.S. citizens safely visit Mexico each year (including thousands who cross the land border every day for study, tourism or business),” but “violence in the country has increased recently. It is imperative that travelers understand the risks of travel to Mexico, how best to avoid dangerous situations, and whom to contact if one becomes a crime victim.”

In early 2010,  these countries were on the State Department’s Travel Alert list: India, the Philippines, Malaysia, Niger, Germany, Tanzania, and Mexico.

Travel Warnings

Travel Warnings, on the other hand, are more serious, and of special interest to those considering moving to that country. Warnings  “describe long-term, protracted conditions that make a country dangerous or unstable,” according the State Department. The Warning can also mean that the U.S. Government is hindered in helping Americans living or traveling in that country due to the closure of an embassy or consulate or because of a reduction of its staff.

The Warnings are useful in that they often give very specific information about problems and potential problems. In the case of Pakistan, for instance, we learn that

“Since 2007, several American citizens throughout Pakistan have been kidnapped for ransom or for personal reasons. Kidnappings of foreigners are particularly common in the Northwest Frontier Province (NWFP) and Baluchistan. In 2008, one Iranian and two Afghan diplomats, two Chinese engineers, and a Polish engineer were kidnapped in NWFP. In February 2009, an American UNHCR official was kidnapped in Baluchistan. Kidnappings of Pakistanis also increased dramatically across the country, usually for ransom.”

Still, a country being on the Travel Warnings list doesn’t mean that you should never in a million years consider going there. Independent travelers will use the warnings and alerts as starting points, seeking more information from a variety of sources. For example, I was planning a trip to Nepal a year ago (there have been Travel Warnings for Nepal for several years now). I read the State Department’s warning (paying close attention to which parts of the country were highlighted as problematic), sought out books and articles about the country and its politics, and spoke with people who’d been there recently. After all my research I concluded that I still wanted to go. Health problems made me cancel that trip, but I would have gone and still hope to go, Travel Warning or not.

And the director who recently made a movie about Surfing Gaza obviously didn’t let the Gaza and West Bank Travel Warning deter him.

Travel Warnings have no expiration dates—presumably the State Department monitors the situation and removes the warning when conditions improve.

As of early 2010, these countries were on the State Department’s Travel Warning list: Haiti, Pakistan, Sudan, Somalia, Mauritania, Chad, Mali, Sri Lanka, Nepal, Algeria, Colombia, Guinea, Lebanon, Cote d’Ivoire, Philippines, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Eritrea, Central African Republic, Israel, the West Bank and Gaza, Kenya, Afghanistan, Burundi, Nigeria, Haiti, Iran, Yemen, Saudi Arabia, Uzbekistan, Iraq, Georgia, and Syria.

Speaking of The Geography of Bliss (in which author Eric Weiner travels the world to see where people are happiest), I was reminded of the world map of happiness (scroll down in the BBC’s article to download map). First created in 2006 by Adrian White of the UK’s University of Leicester, the map used responses from 80,000 people worldwide to map out world happiness, or as they say in the field, subjective well being.

White noted,  “There is a belief that capitalism leads to unhappy people. However, when people are asked if they are happy with their lives, people in countries with good healthcare, a higher GDP per capita, and access to education were much more likely to report being happy. The frustrations of modern life, and the anxieties of the age, seem to be much less significant compared to the health, financial and educational needs in other parts of the world.”

While happiness levels may have shifted in the last 3 years, it’s interesting to note that in 2006, Western European countries garnered most of the top spots, though two nations in Latin American and the Caribbean made it into the top 15–the Bahamas at number 5 and Costa Rica at number 13. The USA didn’t do too badly, weighing in at number 23.

The 20 happiest nations in the World were:

1 – Denmark
2 – Switzerland
3 – Austria
4 – Iceland
5 – The Bahamas
6 – Finland
7 – Sweden
8 – Bhutan
9 – Brunei
10 – Canada
11 – Ireland
12 – Luxembourg
13 – Costa Rica
14 – Malta
15 – The Netherlands
16 – Antigua and Barbuda
17 – Malaysia
18 – New Zealand
19 – Norway
20 – The Seychelles

Other notable results included:
23 – USA
35 – Germany
41 – UK
62 – France
82 – China
90 – Japan
125 – India
167 – Russia

The three least happy countries were:

176 – Democratic Republic of the Congo
177 – Zimbabwe
178 – Burundi

Method
The 2006 world map of happiness used data from he Veenhoven Database of World Happiness (which Eric Weiner visits while researching The Geography of Bliss), along with UNESCO, the CIA, the New Economics Foundation, the WHO, the Latinbarometer, the Afrobarometer, and the United Nations Development Program.

1. Johannesburg, South Africa
2. Monterrey, Mexico
3. Asuncion, Paraguay
4. Karachi, Pakistan
5. Wellington, New Zealand (pictured)

Above are the 5 least expensive cities for expat living, according to consultant firm Mercer UK.

The survey covers 143 cities across six continents but concentrates mostly on Europe,  Asia, and the Middle East.  The only countries in the Americas covered, for example, were the U.S., Canada, Mexico, and Brazil. Mercer looks at more than 200 factors, including the cost of housing, transport and food.

Note that just because a city is cheap for expats doesn’t mean it’s cheap for native residents. In Johannesburg, for instance, costs are rising for local residents, with even basics such as bread becoming more expensive.

Here are the 5 most expensive cities for expat living, according to consultant firm Mercer UK:

1. Tokyo
2. Osaka
3. Moscow
4. Geneva
5. Hong Kong

The Mercer survey, considered the world’s most comprehensive cost of living survey, is aimed at firms thinking of sending workers abroad. The survey covers 143 cities across six continents and looks at more than 200 factors, including the cost of housing, transport and food.

Different “winner” last month
Last month, a different survey, by ECA International,  looked at a wider range of cities and deemed Angola’s capital, Luanda, the most expensive in the world for foreign workers. It reported that a meal there could cost more than $100 and a “decent” apartment could be as much as $15,000 a month, despite the fact that most Angolans live in poverty.

Pictured: Tokyo subway map.

the woman of the hour: Maria Belen Chapur

During the last week of June 2009, no one could locate South Carolina governor Mark Sanford, a Republican in his second term. Aids said Sanford, married and with four sons, was hiking the Appalachian Trail, but even they seemed unsure. Then the cat clawed its way out of the bag—Sanford was in Argentina, with his Argentine girlfriend (the press used the old-fashioned word “mistress” to make the story juicier). His wife, it came out, had known about la argentina, Maria Belen Chaper, for a few weeks, and had given Sanford the boot.

“The mistress” is 43, divorced, with 2 children of her own. She works at a multinational agribusiness corporation and is fluent in Spanish, English, Portuguese, and Chinese. She lives, the press reported (with photos and google maps!) in the upscale Buenos Aires neighborhood of Palermo.

Belen Chaper sounds like a woman of substance and accomplishment. But even if she weren’t, she has, to Sanford, one other enticing allure: she’s foreign. She doesn’t look, smell, sounds or taste like the women in Sanford’s South Carolina home. The very way she thinks, moves, and scrambles an egg is decidedly unfamiliar. And he, in turn, is foreign to her.

Anyone who’s had a foreign fling knows that
ho-hum + foreign accent = doable
& appealing + foreign accent = utterly irresistible

What happens when the fling steadies into a real relationship? Well, then things get tricky. The same foreignness that first drew you in is now, subtly and not-so-subtly, pushing you away. It’s the same thing that happens in every relationship—what draws you in starts to drive you crazy. But with a cross-cultural relationship, the differences are wider and deeper. Those who can manage it end up with a wider frame of reference and a deeper understanding of the varieties of humanness. Either that or they go stark raving mad.

If Sanford ends up staying with his ‘mistress,” let’s check in in a year or two to see how things are going.