Changing “Home” Every 30 Days — The Ups & Downs
It’s currently month 3 of my year-long stint around the globe. For those of you who don’t know, I’m traveling with an organization (called Remote Year) that is responsible for my living accommodations, work space access and travel between countries all year.
Despite what things may look like on social media, I did not know my fellow “digital nomads” 60 days ago. We were strangers until we met in Split, Croatia on day one of month one. What brought us all together are two things, namely: 1) We all have jobs that we can do remotely, and 2) We all have a strange and crazy desire to turn our lives upside down every 30 days.
You heard right: Every… 30… Days.
At the end of each month, we pack up our bags, our computers, our entire lives (essentially) and hop on a plane to head to a new city, where we (again) have to acclimate to a new way of life, a new apartment, a new workspace, a new gym, a new language (yikes!) … a new EVERYTHING. The kicker? We do this twelve times.
In pictures and on social media, this type of travel (and a remote work lifestyle, in general) can look really glamorous and enticing, even. But what most pictures don’t typically show is how difficult it can be to adjust and adapt to a new environment every month. Mind you — it’s only month 3 and we haven’t even left the EU yet (aside from a quick transcontinental flight to Morocco for a long weekend). This is only the beginning.
The point of this blog? Well, to simply say that this type of lifestyle can be, at times, really hard and really challenging. And while I love to travel and wouldn’t trade this experience for the world, I’m also someone who appreciates (and needs) a solid routine. It’s part of my type-A wiring, I suppose.
This routine includes: a smoothie or chia seed pudding for breakfast; the gym or a yoga class either before or after my work day (as my work hours are fluid); time in the kitchen to cook my meals on Sunday; laundry, which I usually do alongside my meal prep; getting my nails done, which is typically every other week; having a coffee on my way to work and then again in the afternoon — just to name a few! And while Mars isn’t on the Remote Year itinerary, I can’t help but have a mini panic attack each time we touch down in a new city. It usually looks something like this:
“Where is my apartment and how far is it from the workspace?”
“Does the supermarket have beets, preferably the pickled kind?”
“Oh, and where is the supermarket?”
“How do I use this washing machine? The buttons look funny.”
“Why does this dumbbell feel so damn heavy? Oh, right — it’s in kilograms, NOT pounds. Oops.”
“What are the rules around tipping? 10%? 20%? Send help.”
“You don’t have to-go cups? That’s not a thing here? Oh … okay … cool.”
“Why do the people in this city walk so damn SLOWLY!?”
In the scope of life — these may seem like little questions; things that I’ll probably look back on and laugh at. But when faced with these same questions every month, as I’m trying to go about my day to day routine (which very much includes a full-time work schedule), things can get frustrating. It’s frustrating to not have a dryer when you’re used to always drying your clothes. It’s frustrating to not have an easy-access Starbucks directly across the street from your apartment and/or workspace, especially at 3pm when all your body needs (and is used to) is some caffeine. It’s frustrating ruining three heads of cauliflower in one month (in attempts to make cauliflower steak) because you keep forgetting that the oven is in Celsius and NOT Fahrenheit.
The truth of the matter is — these are all very fixable and solvable issues. Actually, it’s pretty comical to even call them frustrations. First world problems, maybe? Ugh, I hate that term. The asshole New Yorker in me, maybe? Eh, sometimes. Regardless — we are ALL used to a certain way of life, no matter where it is that we come from — New York, Denmark, the UK, France, Australia, Canada. It doesn’t matter. So anything new and different is going to feel just that — new and different.
What I have to (many times) remind myself is that THIS is what I signed up for: to experience the uncomfortability of a new place; to be forced to adjust; to get frustrated and angry and annoyed in the process; to learn how to figure it the hell out! This is one of the beautiful things that only travel can teach you.
The emotional rollercoaster that is Remote Year forces us to do this twelve times. And while I don’t think it gets any “easier” (as each city will inevitably throw new and different things at me) what I do believe will change is the way in which I choose to respond. To maybe be a little more patient. Understanding. Tolerant. To keep an even-temper, when my type-A personality would otherwise loose it. To remind myself that I am not home; that I’m in a city that is not mine, that functions and operates in a way that is different from what I’m used to. An awareness, I suppose.
This may seem obvious, but it’s not until you’re in it. Living it. This is not something that a weekend or week-long trip to a new city can teach you. It’s only something that fully submerging yourself into new cultures can. This is, after all, why I’m here. This is, after all, why I’m doing this.
