A few days ago, a stray dog showed up on our farm.  An odd-looking  female Boxer mix with a beard.  We call her Barba (beard).  I’m trying not to get too attached to her, but she hasn’t left.  It doesn’t help that Tom has been feeding her (no, actually COOKING for her).  I think she’s here to stay.

I’ll post a front-on photo soon (if she’s still here in a week) but for now, here’s one of her meeting our neighboring cows for the first time.

(The Frost family in Mexico four years ago)

Yesterday—the fourth of July—marked four years since Tom and I (plus two of our daughters) moved to Argentina after our almost-year spent in our starter country, Mexico.  In just a few weeks, it’ll be five years since we left the United States.   We had four teenage daughters at the time.

It’s amazing to look back and see how much has changed in five years.

Five years ago, Tom had a business selling products in hundreds of retail stores across the U.S.  He turned the company virtual in order to move to Mexico, and it thrived.  Then the economy tanked, several of his retailers merged or went out of business, and didn’t pay their bills.  Tom closed the company, started a blog at ExpatAlley.com and is about to launch a brand new project that engages writers everywhere and involves a quirky approach to a particular genre.  He couldn’t be happier.

Five years ago, our oldest daughter, Taeko, was a college student.  She graduated from college in Canada at 19 and spent several months traveling in Central America before meeting up with us for a month or so in Buenos Aires.  She had just turned 20, was unsure about what she wanted to do next, but took a gamble and headed to New York, crashing on the floor of her former babysitter.  Within days, she was working as a hostess at a well-known restaurant and living in a run-down walk-up with two pole dancers in Harlem.  A few weeks later, she landed a job as a reproductive health specialist at a family clinic in Harlem.  After working there a year, she decided to get her master’s in urban public health—her employer paid the costs.  When she graduated, she got a job as a program director for a non-profit that offers support services to the addicted members of her community in Washington Heights.  She’s won grants and awards for her organization’s good work and is passionate about what she does.

Five years ago, our second daughter, Tara, had just returned from her junior year of high school in Brazil.  She moved with us to Mexico for a year, and then spent a summer studying in Germany, followed by a semester in Canada, followed by a semester in Buenos Aires.  She then decided to go back up to Oregon in order to consolidate her credits and finish up her degree.  She did two internships in New York City—one with MTV International, one with a Latino ad agency—worked weekends at an Irish pub, and decided to return to Buenos Aires.  She worked as a marketing director for a language-learning start-up and is now fully immersed in her job as an English teacher to a wide range of students.  She loves her work and is looking into master’s programs in teaching.

Five years ago, our third daughter, Teal, had just left on her year-long exchange in Brazil right before we left the United States.  She was in Brazil during our move to Mexico.  She was NOT happy to be moving with us to Buenos Aires and did NOT want to learn Spanish after spending the previous year learning Portuguese.  She did NOT want to complete high school online and she did NOT want to miss senior year with her friends in Oregon.  However, she did all of these things.  She took university courses in Buenos Aires, made friends, and grew to love it.  She transferred to a university in Canada, became an RA, graduated at 19, and was hired by Norwegian Cruise Lines.  She’s spent the last year as a multilingual events hostess on several routes, visiting over 30 countries and saving over $10,000.  She’s currently on vacation in Hawaii for a month before starting her next assignment—in the Mediterranean.

Five years ago, our youngest daughter, Talya, had just finished the eighth grade.  She spent her freshman year as the only foreigner in her private high school in Mexico.  She attended an international high school in Buenos Aires—for a month—and we all decided she had more interesting options to explore.  She studied with tutors, took classes at two different universities in Buenos Aires, transferred to a private university in upstate New York, and graduated with a BS at 19.  She was thrilled to return to Buenos Aires, where she is working as the assistant recruiter to one of the top headhunters in the world for creative directors.

Five years ago, I was just hoping my daughters would have a chance to learn Spanish and gain a more global perspective as our family had an interesting time living abroad.  While ushering our girls through high school and into college, we learned some things that I thought other parents might find useful.  My first book, The New Global Student:  Skip the SAT, Save Thousands on Tuition, and Get a Truly International Education, was published by Random House last May and I spent two months touring in the States to promote it.  We sold our three-bedroom apartment in BA after the girls left, and downsized to a studio apartment, then on a whim, we bought a four-bedroom farmhouse in Uruguay on five acres.  I wrote a novel that is being shopped to agents right now and I’m close to finishing my second novel.  I turned 50 this month and feel like life is full of endless joy and enormous possibilities.

I get a lot of emails from parents asking what they can expect if they pursue their dream of selling everything and moving abroad—with kids.  Everyone is different, obviously, and we all have our own priorities and possibilities, so there’s no way to predict what the future will bring.

But here’s what I do know: if you make the leap and dive in whole-heartedly, you will be astounded by what can happen to your family in only five years.

Take my word for it.

We returned after being away from our house for six weeks during the remodel of our old farmhouse. Overall, we were absolutely thrilled with the progress–new roof, new windows, new floors, new bathroom, spruced up kitchen, moved hot water heater (outside to inside).

That’s not to say it’s beautiful. It’s not–yet. This weekend, we’ll be sanding and painting the interior, then vacuuming/scrubbing it top to bottom. We’ve got concrete counters to seal as well. But things are definitely moving along. Since we made this video a couple of days ago, the workers have dug out the area for our new patio and the bricks are arriving later today. Expecting a pretty big change in the next two weeks!

According to this BBC news article, Uruguay continues to be a leader in utilizing the simple laptops designed by One Laptop Per Child and distributed through a national organization here known as CEIBAL.

CEIBAL has already distributed nearly 400,000 laptops to primary school students across the country, reaching full saturation.  Now, Uruguay is placing orders for a new version of the laptop designed specifically for high school students.

What happens when an entire country makes the internet accessible to every student in school?  Uruguay is betting on education technology investment as a key strategy for personal and vocational development of its citizens beginning at the age of six, and it is pushing that technology to address the needs of older students.

In addition to the 90,000 updated OLPC laptops ordered, Uruguay is also ordering 10,000 computers from a rival firm as a way to see how students choose to use each.

There’s something thrilling about seeing kids in the countryside sitting on their front porches using the laptops provided by the government.  Listen, I’m a big believer in children playing outdoors and having unstructured time, but giving kids in rural areas a chance to connect to the internet–just like their big-city peers and those in more “advanced” countries–is a brilliant move on the part of the Uruguayan government.

I’m looking forward to seeing how this investment plays out in the next 10-20 years.

I have a crush on Pepe–that’s the popular nickname for Jose Mujica, the beloved president of Uruguay.

I’ve had one for quite a while, but a recent series of articles in the international press has renewed my love for him.

Why do I love Pepe? Let me count the ways:

1) At 75 years old, he is refreshingly humble and free of the need to impress others with flash or style. (He never wears a suit–not even during his inauguration!)

2) He campaigned on a simple-living platform, traveling around Uruguay using public transportation and carrying a small knapsack.

3) He’s a vegetarian in a country that has beef as its top export.

4) He is a published poet.

5) He has refused the opportunity to live in the President’s Residence, instead choosing to remain in the simple house he shares with his wife on a small flower farm.

6) He recently declared that he has no savings, no debt, and no bank account. The farm is in his wife’s name, and his only valuable possession is an old Volkswagen worth less than $2000.

7) His only income is his presidential salary, most of which he donates to his leftist political party and a public housing program.

And just look at him! He looks like he would pour you a glass of wine while bouncing a baby on his knee.

Maybe this isn’t what you should look for in the president of a country, but I have to say that he fills me with awe and inspires me to consume less and live simply.

In fact, he actively promotes working less in order to enjoy life more.

Did I stumble into some kind of alternate universe here in Uruguay?

You tell me.

I’m just enjoying the crush.

Yesterday, Tom and I went in a two-car caravan with a group of expats on a fun Sunday excursion.  We went to a really cool ancient rock formation and hiked around,  had a picnic, then drove to Nueva Helvecia (the former Swiss colony near our farm) and stopped at the Hotel Nirvana for more refreshments.

It reminded me of our last trip to Nueva Helvecia, when Tom took this photo of a store window right next to our favorite produce vendor.  This same display has been up for several weeks now.  I keep waiting to see if they’ll change it, wondering if someone will buy the sexy nurse’s outfit.  It’s such a small town–it’s probably embarrassing to make this purchase.  You’d worry that  customers would come in,  ask “What happened to the nurse outfit?” and the proprietress would respond, “Oh, Helga down the street bought it.  I’m sure Carlos will love it.”

Anyway, clearly the Swiss know how to rock the red cross.  If this outfit is still there next time we drop by, I might have to buy it.  You know,  just so they’ll change the store window display.  Give folks somethin’ to talk about.

The little rural school down the road from us is still on summer break, but the horses are keeping the playground and soccer field mowed–and fertilized.

We are learning about the flora and fauna of Uruguay.  Here are this week’s lessons:

1) When it rains for days, the underground ants rise to the surface, making piles of dirt that look like gophers attacked your lawn overnight.

2)  Do not go near these piles of dirt wearing Crocs–fake or real.

3)  When pouring boiling water on fire ant hills (as recommended online), remember that ants can run.

4) When dumping clumps of ants in pond for potential food for frogs/birds, keep in mind that some ants swim very, very well.

5)  When you try to outsmart ants outside, they will seek revenge and find ways to enter your house.

6)  Ant bites/stings hurt like hell, turn purple, and itch like crazy for several days.

7)  Buy tall boots and wear them whenever you are outside–even in summer.

It’s been raining like crazy for the past couple of days.  We’ve had frogs in our house.  And thanks to parking next to the frog pond, we’ve had frogs in our car.  This one looked like he was going to make a jump, but he rode all the way to town.  Couldn’t find him when we returned.  I wish him well in his new life in Rosario.

Every night, we eat outdoors while listening to the frogs and watching the sunset.  A beautiful way to end the day.