“Carumba!” the driver shouted. What was he going on about?  Oh, there it is. The spluttering of the outboard engine. And then, no more spluttering. And no more engine.  There we were, in the middle of the ocean in a dug-out canoe. With no engine.

 “Carumba!” the driver said again. I wanted to say something else.  You see, I had a plan. I needed to check out the progress on our island project and go to the bank that Saturday. So the business man in me worked it out logically. The trip to the island itself should take three hours, in an ideal, non-Central-American world.  

I multiplied that by three (which I like to call the Cultural Harmonizer and it goes something like this: for every unit of time you expect to complete a task, multiply that by at least three and harmony will follow. Note: works in most countries). Nine hours should see me on and off the island leaving plenty of time to make a bank deposit before it closes. Right? Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.  

Culture, you see, makes all the difference. In arranging my trip to the island, I booked this boat with a picture of what I thought was clear and specific language. I asked for a fast boat big enough for the driver, a worker, and me. I got a dug-out canoe with a five horsepower engine. And now that five horsepower was zero. And we were floating backwards. Even though the boat trip on the way there had taken an hour instead of the 18 minutes as I’d expected, I wasn’t worried; according to my skillful Cultural Harmonizer calculation… We still had plenty of time for me to complete my objectives.

So while the driver was pulling off the duct tape from the engine, doing something that looked like a French plait with the wires, and occasionally scolding the rusty engine with a slap from his palm, I went to work. I went to work looking for the paddle in our tiny canoe. Turns out, that stick underneath the mound of a fishing net which I was using as a seat was the paddle, really? There is no “real” paddle? No problem, I thought. I’ve done plenty of paddling. Let’s try and figure out which end is which and off we go.

The thing was insanely heavy, maybe 50 lbs., and didn’t have a blade or any paddle shape, let alone a handle. After an hour of maneuvering this pole, my arms were cramped and against my better judgment, I admitted defeat. There was no way we were going to make it in time. Our boat was literally moving backward down the mangroves with the outgoing tide.

The Cultural Harmonizer theory needed to be adjusted, it is not an exact science, but it appears it can be modified for any country. I missed the bank that day, and received several concerned calls after missing payroll. The businessman within me learned a lot from these types of experiences that always seem to accompany expat life.

I realized that I am the stranger in a strange land. Especially when you’re dealing with a culture so different to your own where fast means five horsepower, and boat means hollowed out log. If you are new to a country, using this calculation can be very helpful when managing your stress levels; though it might take a bit of time to learn how to calibrate, it can be a very handy tool. The culture in any given place has lots of momentum; notice how it works, then do what you do.  Carumba!