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Before I start writing about all the crazy and strange things that happened to us when we moved to Jamaica I need to tell you the story of how we got there.

My husband is a diplomat, I am a business owner. When we met I guess none of use made any plans, really. It’s so much easier to date and dream about common future when you are in your twenties…. You are flexible and idealistic. A decade later you have your own career, often kid or kids and your life is pretty much arranged. But destiny sometimes has different plans.

So fast forwarding the story: we dated, fell in love, moved in together and started thinking of how to find a solution from this unusual situation where we both want to pursue our careers. The problem was Ernesto’s requires moving from country to country every couple of years.

After long discussions and considering all the options we decided that I will try to hop on a new age management wave and will try to operate my company from the distance. In the end it’s trendy to tell that you follow 4 hour workweek routine and it should be doable. Well, reality is a bit different, but it’s not a post about that. I did manage to rearrange the operations of my small company in a way that I could work from anywhere in the world, assuming there is an internet access.

When the day came that we had to make a decision if we wanted to leave Poland, my home country, in terms of career I was ready. Emotionally not so much. But Ernesto spread a vision of all that fantastic places we could go to. His final argument was to bid for Orlando. Tempted by a vision of visiting Disneyland every weekend I said yes.

Unfortunately the Foreign Ministry had a bit different concept for my weekend plans.

About 3 months after we bid for a transfer Ernesto called me from work.

  • You better sit down, I have news.

I knew the transfer order has arrived and for a split second I thought that maybe it’s even better than Orlando. Maybe it’s New York or Milan. But the joy didn’t last for long.

  • Hope you like reggae. We are going to Jamaica.

I was speechless, and believe me, it doesn’t happen often. But I really didn’t know what to say. That is definitely not what I had in mind imagining being a diplomat’s spouse. But the decision was made. We had a month to wrap our life up, pack our clothes, furniture, throw a goodbye party and close the door.

I started googling and reading everything I could about our new home. I skipped the holidays pictures but read everything I could about expat’s experiences. Apparently everyday life in Jamaica was far from paradise. Instead of beaches and drinks there was poverty, sexual harassment, danger and drugs.  

In that moment it hit me. This life that could be an amazing adventure, might also be difficult and challenging.

 

If you want to know how Jamaica welcomed us, click here.

 


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