Have you noticed how many newcomers are putting down roots at lakeside these days?

The first significant influx of foreign settlers goes back to the 1950’s, spawned largely by World War II veterans seeking a place in the sun to live well and cheap. The Lake Chapala Society was founded in 1955, with a scant membership of 21 pioneers.

The expat community consolidated itself in the 1960s and 1970s. In the next decade, real estate entrepreneurs began talking about Baby Boomers hitting retirement age and discovering the area as a haven to enjoy their golden years.

It was in the mid-1990s, around the same time NAFTA was enacted, that the Canadian population started to boom. European and Asian nationals quickly followed.

A stroll around the Ajijic plaza back in February made me realize that the predicted wave of immigrants is turning into a tsunami. As I looked around the square, spotting every table at sidewalk cafés filled with foreign clientele, I wondered, “Where are the native people?”

Granted, at midday most locals were busy at work, doing household chores or studying. Still, it was disturbing to get a sense that outsiders seem to be taking over this once isolated and quaint fishing village.

Back in the old days, modern services and creature comforts were scant. Few people owned telephones, televisions or automobiles. To make a go of it here, immigrants had to have a real desire to experience the authentic Mexican lifestyle.

Times have changed. Expats have created social clubs, charity organizations and group activities with broad appeal. All sorts of consumer goods and services are readily available. Word got out as we raved about the nearly perfect climate, stunning natural surroundings, reasonable cost of living and warm human interaction that have become local trademarks.

Best guesses suggest 7,000 to 10,000 full-time expat inhabitants reside here; perhaps double that number at the peak of snowbird season. Per statistics from the 2010 census, Chapala’s total population registers at just under 50,000. By that calculation, foreigners now make up close to 25 percent of the populace.

Check out the relatively new Facebook page called Gringos Ajijic & Lakeside and you’ll get a sense of just how many people are arriving, or seriously considering making the move.  Among the current 3,700 members of the site, about half are already living in Mexico. Many others are on the verge of moving here or embarking on exploratory visits.

The FAQs posted there give signs of the culture shock that awaits newbies. For starters, there’s the language barrier. Fortunately, so many local people either speak passable English or kindly tolerate the mangling of their native tongue that it’s possible to get by with a limited grasp of Spanish.

Yet there are many other hurdles to overcome once the first glow of lakeside living wears off and folks grasp that things are very different than they were back home.

Newcomers face arcane government red tape involved in obtaining immigration papers or a driver permits, paying taxes and availing themselves of public services. They confront unfamiliar hassles dealing with real estate transactions, banking, telephone and internet connections, contractors, repairmen, etc.

Shopping brings more challenges in a land where bread is marketed under the brand name Bimbo. Finding Mexican substitutes for familiar products takes time and willingness to experiment. You can get nearly any imported good you desire, but be prepared for sticker shock.

Settling in happily also depends upon open-minded adjustment to the local way of life: ear-splitting fireworks and high decibel music that are synonymous with religious and family festivities; a generalized indifference to punctuality that favors being in the here and now; the scorpions, spiders, and other creepy critters that lurk in the house and garden — to name a few.

Some of the new immigrants will manage the transition, others will not.  How the ever-growing “Gringo Effect” will impact the community remains to be seen.