Like it says at the top of the page, this is a journal of international exploration and personal discovery. This post is going to fit squarely in the second category. You’ve been warned.

I made the decision to set out on this journey almost a year ago by today’s calendar based on two realizations. First, I could pursue my dream of spending some time living outside the US without having to pick a spot from the dozens of candidates in my mind, move there, get a work visa, and then find a job with a local company without having a mastery of the local language. I knew I didn’t want to live in an English-speaking country – that would be too easy – so the language thing was a big, assumed obstacle. What I realized last June was that I could keep working for a US company in the brave new world of remote work and simply test-drive potential locations until I found the one I was looking for.

The second realization I had involves the blog you’re reading right now. After saying for literally decades that I would be a travel writer if I didn’t have to worry about making a living, I realized that I don’t have to make a living being a travel writer. I can simply do it as a hobby. I don’t have to make any money off of it. I can just do it because I like doing it. Don’t get me wrong. I love that shot of dopamine I get when someone new subscribes or tells me they like my writing, but I’m doing this for me more than anything or anyone else. That’s why if you’re still reading you’re getting this introspective essay rather than something about when I learned to make empanadas in Buenos Aires.

Fast forward to today

I’m asking myself whether I’m over it or just drifting back into my fixed mindset ways because I’ve hit a rough patch.

As of today, I’m at the beginning of week 2 out of 6 planned for Mexico City. I was greatly anticipating this new location for several of my last weeks in Buenos Aires. Unlike every other traveler I met in “la ciudad de la furia” (the city of fury), a label applied in a locally very popular song by the Argentinian group Soda Stereo in 1988, I didn’t fall in love with Buenos Aires. Maybe I’ll write a post at some point why that is. For now, suffice it to say it just wasn’t for me.

Housing hiccup

Anyway, I landed in Mexico City 9 days ago, capital of a country I’ve visited several times that I know I love, expecting to get back some of the elation I felt about my new nomadic lifestyle after my first two stays in Medellín, Colombia. One of the things I was looking forward to was to be back in a co-living space. I liked that aspect of both of my trips to Medellín because it gave me a social base to work with. In Buenos Aires, I lived alone so I had to put a lot more energy into finding a community although that ended up working out quite well.

Unfortunately, I misunderstood what I had signed up for in Mexico City, which turned out to be a bedroom in an apartment with one other person, the owner. That’s not a terrible thing; it’s just not what I thought I was getting. The fact that it’s someone who swiped right on me in Bumble when I was in travel mode before I arrived and on whom I did not do the same adds a bit of awkwardness. For me, anyway. I have no idea if she knew at the time or has since figured out that she swiped right on a future tenant, and I’m NOT asking. Whatever. It’s a beautiful penthouse apartment with a lovely rooftop patio and garden so it’s not like I’m really suffering at this point. Still, not what I expected.

Dented dining

Something else I was really looking forward to was the food. I found Argentinian food bland, heavy, and boring as a whole, but I love Mexican food. And I’m not talking Tex-Mex, which I also like. I know and love authentic Mexican, and my first meal of chilaquiles last Sunday morning was a delight for my tastebuds. After frugally eating in for a few meals, I was then thrilled with my next local culinary experience on Tuesday night at a taqueria my landlord recommended. I’d never seen a place that didn’t just offer pork or beef tacos but rather allowed you to select what part of the pig or cow you wanted. They were delicious, and I was in heaven.

And they likely got me sick for only the second time in my 48 years of international travel, filled with street food from every continent except the frozen one. Blech.

So, now my living situation is less than ideal, and I’m a little hesitant on local food. I mean, I knew the tap water situation here already so I was thrilled about my apartment having a nice filter. But I’m not always at home so the idea of having to be so vigilant as a way of life longer than a vacation is a bit daunting.

Janky job situation

The third dimension to my rough patch is the ongoing swing of the pendulum away from remote jobs and the overall economic uncertainty in the U.S. right now. Unlike when I started this journey, although the job market is still strong, it’s not what it was. The budget on the freelance contract I quickly landed when I first decided to go nomad was slashed to very part-time a few months ago, and I decided to let it go altogether out of personal dissatisfaction with the work. Since then, I’ve been unsuccessful in landing another freelance gig, with opportunities few and far between via the two agencies I use. Until this past week, I’ve also been adamant about not pursuing opportunities with companies whose definition of “fully remote” doesn’t extend outside the U.S.

(Side note to Mom – Sorry you’re finding out this way. I didn’t want to give you something else to worry about because I’m fine. Really. I’ve got plenty of emergency funds left. Besides, I spend less outside the U.S. than in, and I have the Airbnb income from my home as long as I’m not there, which more than pays for my travel and lodging expenses.)

Questions I’m asking myself

• Given my original goal of going nomad in order to find a place I want to live outside the U.S. for a few years to get the true expat experience, is there any reason to keep test driving locations since I already know I love Medellín so much and have a community there I can slot right back into?
• Is it time to return to the U.S., establish myself in a full-time, non-contract, remote position, and then seek permission to go further remote?
• Or maybe target a position with a company that has offices around the world, and then seek an international, internal transfer? After all, there are other places besides Colombia I already know I love.
• Am I giving up on being a nomad just because it’s gotten a little difficult?
• What might I be trying to prove to myself or others by dismissing my reasons for considering giving up the nomad thing as trivial or illegitimate?
• Was this whole journey me running toward a dream or away from something I haven’t wanted to deal with? Or some of both?
• What might I be running away from?

What I know

• I have to stop running to answer that last question.
• My dissatisfaction with my last freelance gig became soul crushing, which violates what I learned at MEA about the happiness zones. While I don’t want my identity tied up in my job, I want my job to mean more to me than simply a paycheck.
• I really dislike the job search process. If I keep freelancing, that’s going to be a recurring part of my life.
• This morning I had a great first interview with a remote company that excites me.
• If don’t get that job, there are other opportunities with other remote companies that will excite me.
• I don’t have to be traveling to be a travel writer. I have a lifetime of material to pull from.
• I have a flight back to Denver on July 16, and I’m looking forward to it unlike the two previous times I’ve returned to Denver since starting this journey.
• I have almost 5 more weeks in Mexico City that I plan to make the most of.

Note about the cover image: This is a large piece (4.2 meters by 5.1 meters) is called “La Fusión de Dos Culturas” by Jorge González Camarena. It is on display at the Museo Nacional de Historia within Castillo de Chapultepec. It represents the losses experienced by both the Hispanic and indigenous people in the violent clashes that resulted in the blended population and culture that makes up modern Mexico. Somehow it seemed appropriate to the internal struggle I’m working through right now.