A Turning Point
Ginny’s husband was eleven years her senior, and when he was fifty-five, he too was jaded of the materialistic way of life in Singapore. He proposed to Ginny about uprooting their lives and moving to Nicaragua to set up a farm, propelled by a dream to create jobs for the locals. “Without any hesitation, I said, ‘Let’s do it.’”
When Ginny first arrived in the country, she did not quite know what to make of it. “The locals were poor, and did not have any money on them. Yet they were happy. In Nicaragua, you need not worry about food, for there is an abundance of sources. Want rice? You can grow it in the fields. Want prawns? The river teems with them. And here I was, a haughty millionaire, grumpy and with a brewing anger. ”
For the next two decades, the couple led a quiet life, driving their Harley-Davidson jeeps around. Flanking their farm were three waterfalls, and they spent many carefree days lost in the music of nature. Possessing jejune knowledge of farm operation, they left their asset in the care of the locals, an ill move that eventually rang up losses. But they felt true bliss.
All good things, sadly, must come to an end. Hitherto in the pink of health, Peter was diagnosed with a rare neurological disorder, and his body began shutting down in the manner of a kaput computer. Only six months it was between his initial diagnosis and his eventual passing, and the untimely death of her husband disarrayed Ginny’s life. “Before he died, Peter said to me: ‘Ginny, I’m leaving all my possessions to you. You’ll be taken care of, and you’ll lead a good life.’”