Life in Nicaragua with Yolande Norris-Clark

A pre-recorded, three-hour Salon all about our life in Nicaragua.

During this seminar I’ll share it all—what our day-to-day life looks like, how we have adjusted, the challenges we’ve had, cultural differences, food and nutrition, education options, community, healthcare, cost of living, pathways to residency, life with kids, housing, climate, homebirth and freebirth (including birth certs and passports for our Nicaraguan children), what I love (and what I don’t love), other countries we’ve considered, and everything else I've been asked by those of you who have wanted to know about being a foreigner in Nicaragua.

 In 2020, propelled by St. Rona, my husband and I finally left Canada with our then-six children.

We were sick of the cold, the grind, the stress, and most of all, we were sick of what we saw as the increasingly insular, closed, paranoid, anti-human, authoritarian nanny-state that Canada had become.

We could simply no longer tolerate the social and political climate in the country of our birth, and we had come to a point where the costs of remaining in Canada far outweighed the risks (and fears we had) of leaving.

We had no particular destination in mine, only that we were looking for a place where we could live a simple, easeful, joyful life, surrounded by nature; a place where our kids could roam and climb and walk barefoot through the sand and the streets, and where we would experience less friction, judgement, and fewer sanctions as a result of our lifestyle choices and our values which include family togetherness, freebirth, whole foods, natural health, home-learning, community, and radical self-responsibility.

So we packed our most precious belongings (mostly books) into 16 suitcases and we left our house, our business, our family, and our friends behind, knowing we would be leaving Canada forever—or that at the very least we wouldn’t be back as residents in Canada again.

First we travelled to the Dominican Republic which we love, but we knew that wasn’t the place for us to settle. Then I was invited to attend a birth in Costa Rica, a country we has heard wonderful things about, and soon the whole family soon followed me to the land of pura vida.

At first, Costa Rica did seen like a dream come true—the landscape is stunningly beautiful, to be sure—but we quickly realized that CR too has a very authoritarian government and a deeply compliant societal culture, especially when it comes to medical doctrine and regulations. Costa Rica also has a high crime rate, and overall, we simply didn’t feel safe there. (And if you’d like a full breakdown of exactly why we left Costa Rica, you can access my robust salon and PDF guide to Costa Rica here).

So once again, we mobilized to move our large (and growing) family. When I was six months pregnant, Lee and I led our kids and pets on foot, as we crossed the border from Costa Rica into Nicaragua.

As soon as we arrived, the difference in the neighbouring countries was palpable—almost shockingly so.

Whereas Costa Rica is slick and shiny, highly modernized and full of new-world conveniences, Nicaragua is dusty, dilapidated, wild, and improvisational. Dogs, pigs, chickens, cows, horses and goats roam free, and families of five and six people routinely travel via one motorcycle, babies dangling off the back. It’s harsh, and brutal, and stunningly gorgeous. And within a couple of weeks of living here, we found a community of people who largely share our priorities, many of whom have become family.

We have lived in Central America now for almost four years, including three years in Nicaragua. It hasn’t always been easy, and it’s not a perpetual holiday. There are many challenges to life here, and a few times I’ve felt like throwing in the towel. We have seen many beloved friends come and go—most people seem to last a year or two before choosing to return to their home country, or set off for a more developed place.

Last September, I thought I had had enough of Nicaragua, and I travelled to Mexico to find a house to rent so we could move our family there. But compared with Nicaragua, Mexico is rule-bound, structured, and heavily legislated, and I recognized immediately how lucky we are to live in Nicaragua, and that the benefits and gifts of being here far outweigh the challenges.

Since we moved here, I have received a steady stream of questions about our experience, from families like ours, who are considering claiming their power and taking the leap into the unknown, to give their children a better life.

So I recently decided to offer a special afternoon salon all about our life in Nicaragua. During this (now) pre-recorded seminar I’ll share it all—what our day-to-day life looks like, how we have adjusted, the challenges we’ve had, cultural differences, food and nutrition, education options, community, healthcare, cost of living, pathways to residency, life with kids, housing, climate, homebirth and freebirth (including birth certs and passports for our Nicaraguan children), what I love (and what I don’t love), other countries we’ve considered, and everything else I've been asked by those of you who have wanted to know about being a foreigner in Nicaragua. 

 Any questions? Email [email protected] and our Team will get back to you as soon as possible.

Please note: This Salon does not include access to Yolande. For further support, conversation, and integration -- click here to join Yolande in the 'Bauhauswife Birth Circle Community': a private community for women where Yolande personally leads several study sessions each month, on pregnancy, birth, birth-work, self-healing from the perspective of Hamer's Germanic Healing Framework, wild mothering, and so much more.