Loja Living: Our Interview Fran Metz, an American Expat in Ecuador

Introduction

Relocation to Ecuador from the USA

Fran Metz has always had a restless spirit. Born in Hawaii and raised in California, she moved around the U.S. before arriving in Durango, Colorado, in 1990 to attend Fort Lewis College, where she fell in love with the state and made it home. Over the years, her adventures took her further afield, building a résumé that’s as varied as her travels, including roles as a restaurant manager, transit supervisor, print journalist, and salesperson.

When COVID disrupted her career and savings dwindled, Fran found herself facing a tough crossroads. With the rising cost of living in the U.S., she made the difficult but hopeful choice to start anew. On May 5, 2023, she embarked on a new adventure, leaving behind what she knew to settle in Loja, Ecuador.  We recently interviewed Fran about her new life in South America

Questions and Responses

Why did you decide to move to Ecuador?

I had always planned to retire in Ecuador. I had been researching the country for years, the quality of life there, the cost of living, the weather, the people, the food—everything—and knew it was the place for me to settle when my working career was over. 

But when COVID hit, everything changed. At 57, finding work that paid more than $15 an hour was difficult, and I went through my entire savings in the first two years, just paying rent and bills at a time when the cost of rent and necessities kept going up and up with no relief on the horizon. 

So I thought: Why wait? Why not move to Ecuador now? 

And so I did. 

I contacted an estate buyer, and within a week, I had whittled down everything I owned to two suitcases and had enough cash in my pocket for a new start in a new country. I had no work lined up, but knew I had enough cash to get my visa started and to keep me afloat until I could find work. It was a crazy leap of faith, but I knew I would not be able to survive much longer in the U.S. without ending up homeless and on food stamps—and, being fiercely independent, that was not a life for me.

What preparations did you make in terms of language skills?

I grew up in Orange County, California, and worked in plenty of restaurants in my youth, so I had basic restaurant Spanish with a few very important phrases, like “Una cerveza más por favor,” and “¿Dónde está el baño?  

But seriously, I am determined to become fluent in Spanish. Many expats move here and never bother to learn Spanish; it’s very disrespectful, in my opinion, as it basically says, “I don’t really respect your people or culture, and I also don’t plan to integrate into society here,” which is ironic considering many Americans’ stance on immigration to the U.S. I don’t want to be that kind of expat. 

I used Duolingo and Rosetta Stone, and I took online lessons with a local for about six months after arriving, which helped me a lot, but I have learned the most from an unexpected source: the taxi drivers! They don’t mind if I torture them with what I call my “caveman Spanish.” You know, “Me want food. Me need store.” And they are quick to correct me when I pronounce something incorrectly. It’s a big help, as Ecuadorians are so polite and respectful that most wouldn’t think to correct someone’s poor Spanish. But that was exactly what I needed.

And, there are other ways to communicate. I once went to the butcher and was wanting to buy some chicken wings. I knew that chicken was “pollo,” but I didn’t know the Spanish word for “wings,” so I said, “Yo nessecito pollo ….” And then made a flapping gesture with my arms that made the employees laugh out loud. But they knew exactly what I meant. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

I am fluent enough now to be able to get around town, find what I need, and work with various services, but I still have a long way to go. Thank goodness for Google Translate!

Are you concerned about safety in Ecuador, given its recent history?

Not even a little. I feel much safer here than I ever did in the U.S., where I lived in cities large and small. Since arriving in Ecuador in 2023, I have visited Quito, Santa Elena, Salinas, Cuenca, Landangui, Vilcabamba, Malacatos, and now Loja, all in that order. Only once did I feel a bit “unsure” and it was in Quito, the night I arrived. It was very late, and there was a group of about six men hanging out on a corner, but other than that one instance, people have been nothing but kind and helpful to me since my arrival. 

Since 2020, Ecuador has seen a troubling rise in violence, but I think it’s important to note that this escalation is mostly confined to specific areas—not the entire country. It’s frustrating to read U.S. news articles painting a dramatic picture, as if all of Ecuador is in chaos, because that’s just not what’s happening. The reality is that regions like Guayaquil, Esmeraldas, and a few coastal areas have become hotspots because of their role in the cocaine trade, leaving them grappling with rising gang activity, turf wars, and alarming levels of violence as drug cartels battle for control of important smuggling routes.

In my small city of Loja—population, about 250,000—there is little violent crime. Plenty of pickpockets and that sort of thing, so I just make sure I use my zippers when I go to a crowded event. I’ve never had a problem with theft. Well, except for that one time a taxi driver returning me home from the supermarket stole a whole chicken I had just bought! But that’s another story entirely, and it was my own fault for not looking in the trunk myself.

What cultural differences have you noticed, and how have you adapted?

So, so many. Respect and courtesy are a big part of the culture here, and “adapting” to that has been, well, delightful. In the U.S., I pretty much became invisible when I hit 40. But here, older people are respected and appreciated for their wisdom and experience. It’s quite refreshing.

But one that has been hard to adapt to is the politeness. 

No, let me explain.

Even though I was born and raised on the West Coast of the United States, I have a very East Coast attitude: I’m very direct. I don’t beat around the bush. I don’t sugar coat things. I ask for what I want or need. And when someone asks me for my opinion, they are certainly going to get it. But here? Not so much. 

Ecuadorians HATE giving bad news, or even telling people something they know they don’t want to hear. So instead of being honest about something that could be perceived as “negative,” they give you the answer they know will make you happy. For example, if I ask someone where I can find a certain book or kitchen item, they will happily give me directions—to a place that doesn’t exist. 

When I asked my future landlord if the apartment had “hot water running to the house,” he said yes. Upon arrival, I found it did NOT have hot water running to the house but instead had only a “suicide shower,” a device that heats up the water inside the shower head itself. 

In the U.S. we call this “lying,” but the culture here treats this differently, and if you use this word, you can expect a very dramatic and indignant response. So this particular “custom” has been very difficult for me to adjust to. But for now, I just take everything with a grain of salt and also follow the motto: “Trust but confirm.” It’s been a tough lesson for me because generally, I am a very trusting person.

What are your expectations for healthcare in Ecuador?

The healthcare here is incredible in so many ways. 

First, you find a doctor you think you might like. Then you send them a WhatsApp message, and usually within the hour, even on Sunday, the actual doctor replies to you. 

I was gobsmacked! 

I had an appointment the very next day—ONE DAY! And the cost to see this English-speaking doctora? $40. And I find the level of care and compassion here to be MUCH higher than what I experienced in the U.S. with their assembly line approach to healthcare. 

Prescription meds are cheap, and in Ecuador, you often do not even need a prescription for your medications. You just walk into the pharmacy and tell them what you need. If they have it, they sell it to you. 

Dental is about the same experience. A crown cost me $350. A filling was $30. A full set of mouth x-rays? $20. And I didn’t even need a scrip.

How do you plan to stay connected with family and friends back in the U.S.?

Facebook has become a remarkable resource for me, not just to stay in touch with friends, but for a wide variety of services here. Need furniture? Facebook. Need recommendations for a vet? Facebook. Want to take some Spanish lessons? Facebook. I have even found work on Facebook here, which is simply unheard of in the U.S. 

But my best friend is tech-challenged, so we just talk on the phone. I signed up for Google Voice when I arrived in Ecuador, and it’s completely free, so we can have our long two-hour catchup chats without worry.

But, the journey here was brutal! I split the travel up, because I knew it would kill me if I didn’t. I flew from Vegas to Florida, then Florida to Costa Rica, where I spent a few days. Then from Costa Rica to Bogota, Colombia, to Quito, Ecuador, and then finally to Cuenca. Trying to do all that in one day would have been the death of me. So I likely won’t be making that trip back anytime soon. 

Have you considered the visa and residency requirements?

As I had limited funds, I couldn’t afford $2,000 up front for an attorney here, so I used Visa Angels, a group that helps you get to the finish line by guiding you on what steps to take and in what order. This allowed me to pay as I went, so it wasn’t a lot of money upfront. My rep, Sara Carcamo, was kind, experienced, and spoke perfect English, and I highly recommend her. After a battle with Senecyt over my college degree for my Professional Visa paperwork, I was finally able to get my Temporary Resident Visa. After two years of residency, I will apply for my Permanent Resident Visa.

What cultural activities or hobbies have you pursued?

I have tried repeatedly to get involved in animal rescue and education here but have had trouble getting my foot in the door, probably because of my poor Spanish fluency. But I keep trying. 

There are many museums and festivals here and I attend as many as I can, interacting with locals, asking about traditional customs, and enjoying the delicious food.

I’ve purposely not aligned with the large expat groups here because I find they keep themselves insulated from the outside world, and honestly, I didn’t move to Ecuador to live with gringos! 

I also enjoy watercolor painting, petting random dogs, and hiking in the woods.

How do you handle homesickness or culture shock?

Perhaps because I have always been a traveler, I haven’t suffered from either of the issues since I arrived nearly two years ago. But if I’m truthful, I do occasionally miss a good In-N-Out Burger with fresh cut fries. And street tacos. 

Is there anything from home that you miss? What should other expats bring with them?

I miss being able to buy something from Amazon.com and have it on my doorstep the next day. I miss my Sleep Number bed. I miss chile powder. And I miss my Cuisinart kitchen appliances. But you know what? It’s just stuff. I’ll find other stuff. The tradeoff was worth it for me.

But what expats should bring with them is a personal decision. If you have the $15,000 for a shipping container, by all means, bring it all. But I did not and so had choices to make. I regret none of them.

What is one thing you realize is totally crazy about life in the U.S. now that you’ve left?

Well, I left because of how “totally crazy” it is in the U.S. now. I just knew there had to be a better quality of life for me out there somewhere. And I was right.

Have an interesting expat story to share? Reach out to us at info@shglawpa.com

The post Loja Living: Our Interview Fran Metz, an American Expat in Ecuador appeared first on Solow, Hartnett and Galvan Immigration Law.