The morning a mechanic almost yelled me out of his shop Last year I rushed into a Santo Domingo garage, anxious about a rattling fan
The night I misunderstood “escote” and almost paid for everyone’s lobster My first business dinner in Bogotá was supposed to be simple: six colleagues, one
The barbecue that taught me to count chairs, not replies During my first year in Santo Domingo I threw a birthday barbecue, sent invites through
How a single “Claro” saved my barber shop reputation The first time I wandered into my neighborhood barbershop in Santo Domingo, I was brand-new to
I discovered the terror of spontaneous speaking on a Dominican beach at sunset. A friend’s cousin was proposing to his girlfriend and, minutes before popping
I learned the weight of the right phrase on a rainy Medellín afternoon. My Colombian colleague Andrés had just lost his grandmother, and the office
A three-finger mix-up that almost cost me a coconut Picture a hot Santo Domingo afternoon, the kind where traffic horns melt into bachata riffs. I
The Madrid sidewalk moment that rewired my handshake muscle memory My first month living in Spain, I trotted down a leafy street in Lavapiés to
The elevator ride that almost tanked a contract I’d just arrived in Bogotá, sleepless and over-caffeinated, to pitch a Dominican fintech to a conservative Colombian
A two-country Tuesday that reset my watch Ten years in the Dominican Republic have taught me that ahora mismo almost never means “right now.” But