Day 280 of 1827: Helping a Friend Move

This evening, I helped a friend move some furniture.

And it has completely thrown my entire paradigm into question.

Let me back up real quick and start with what happened, and then we can move onto the interesting part.

My buddy Dan found a sweet deal on a couple of bedside tables, and he made arrangements to pick them up so he could take them back to his apartment. Simple enough.

There’s just one problem. Well, there’s two problems, really, but they’re related:

The woman who has the tables lives across town, and
Dan has no car.

Actually, there’s three problems: Dan is only one person, but there’s two tables to be moved.

Ok, four problems: Both Dan and the woman he bought the tables from are leaving the country tomorrow.

The point is, my friend needed some help transporting his newly-purchased furniture.

Fortunately, this was a relatively straightforward challenge for me to tackle; I simply reached out to my network and found somebody with a car who was willing to help out in exchange for dinner.

I rode along to help move the second table as well. And to score a free meal.

We completed the transfer with the usual number of things going wrong — totally manageable.

Afterward, Chorrillana-flavored potato chips were set out for snacking, Peruvian food was ordered, and we hung out at Dan’s apartment chatting for a bit.

When it was all over, something hit me.

Mentally, I mean.

I realized that when it came to describing the international lifestyle, I was trying to eat my cake and have it, too.

See, on the one hand, I tell everybody that living in a foreign country is one of the most challenging experiences ever. You will encounter all kinds of situations that are completely unfamiliar to you, and you will have to learn an entirely new skill set to survive.

And yet, practically in the same breath, I tell people that living in a foreign country is nothing special, really. You do all the same things you were doing in your country of origin, just with 30% more paperwork (and possibly in a foreign language).

Well… which is it?

I really had myself in a bind here.

But I finally figured it out.

And the answer is…

… it’s both.

During a typical week, I mostly do the same kinds of things I used to do back in the States. Mostly.

I buy groceries… in Spanish, paying in a foreign currency and with a freebie-points account tied to my RUT.
I go to a coworking space to do my freelance work… for my Peruvian client, and I’m also negotiating a work contract so I can get residency in Chile.
I go on the occasional weekend excursion… but I visit neighboring countries instead of hopping across state lines.
I go on dates and meet up with friends… from all over the world and talking in a foreign language.

It’s true that I’m doing a lot of the same things I normally do… but they’ve taken on a whole new level of awesome as a result of the changes that I’ve made in myself to adapt to living in a foreign culture.

And this is where things really start to get interesting.

See, now that I’ve adapted to living in 3 different countries, I’ve gained all these new skills, confidence and self-knowledge.

And it’s not like that’s going to go away when I visit my next country.

When I first arrived in Medellín, ordering food was difficult. When I went to go live in Asunción, my main concern was finding a house to rent. When I came back to Chile, I set out to figure out how to start a business.

I gotta be honest with you; I’m not entirely sure where things can possibly go from here. I mean, what’s next — establishing a micronation?

Actually, that sounds like a fun project. I think I’ll add it to my sparkfile, just in case.