“Some people would say that what we do is harder. We have to figure out where we’re going, how to get there, how things work, different languages, pack up and move every week or two weeks…” Emily said.
“But it’s so much easier than home. There are no errands. Remember all the errands? On the way home from work, there was Trader Joe’s, maybe a supermarket too, the gas station, maybe the bank. And we spent some of every weekend doing errands too – car maintenance, Target, buying gifts, the dry cleaner, grocery shopping, taking dogs to the park…. there’s just always stuff to do – stuff you have to do just to live life,” I responded.
“Yeah, but people know that stuff and it’s not hard. It just takes time – and it’s how it works at home,” Emily said.
The conversation began as soon as I posted, “Why Don’t We Do Anything The Hard Way Anymore?” last week. Emily thought about it and surmised that there may be readers who think the title is ridiculous because in their eyes, we do everything the hard way. The idea of being nomads, running around the world with backpacks and computers – chasing Internet and trying to work in places like Kathmandu or Vientiane is absurd.
I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. To me, our life is really so easy. With the exception of Bali, we’ve walked almost everywhere and done our “errands” along the way. We buy shampoo and toothpaste coming and going from wherever it is we’re headed on any given day. All our meals are prepared for us.
We only grocery shopped in Bali – and even then, Nengah our housekeeper bought the produce from the local market. It was the strange stuff like cheese, butter and artisan bread that he couldn’t manage.
Sometimes we go to the post office – maybe once per country or every other country. I need a shave every week and a half – although I’m lazy and often wait two. And there’s laundry – which either gets picked up from our room, or that we schlep no more than two blocks to a laundry – where someone else does it including folding and ironing. Oh, and someone cleans our room and makes our bed every single day. Even at the house in Bali.
Maybe I’m missing something, but it’s REALLY easy.
It’s not just the basics. The fun stuff is easier and more affordable too.
For example, we rented a motorcycle this weekend. We saw a sign for a motorcycle rental place near the fountain in the middle of town. I asked the owner the price per day – 60,000 Kip or $7.46. When we came back Saturday to rent a bike, she had me fill out a form with my name, address and passport number. She wrote in the price. I gave her my passport (she never asked for a driver’s license) and 120,000 Kip or $15, and we were on the road.
At home, renting a car – let alone a motorcycle – seems to take 20 minutes of a person tapping on their keyboard. You want to choose the credit card with extra insurance coverage. If you don’t have one, you need to see if your insurance will cover you or if you should pay the extra $9 a day for the rental company’s coverage. During the 20 minutes of keyboarding, you’re also likely to have your credit history and driving record searched too. When it’s over, you sign several pages of print-outs and are admonished to bring the gas tank back at the same level or you’ll be charged. Have a nice day.
In Bangkok, we decided to get our teeth cleaned at a very nice private hospital. In Thailand, hospitals have everything including general practitioner and dental clinics. Going to the doctor is a one-stop shop.
We went to Paolo Memorial where we saw a very nice, articulate English speaking dentist. When we called to make the appointment, we were transferred to the English speaking concierge they have on staff. Tami finds out what you need, communicates with the various offices and departments to set your appointments, and gets back to you.
When we walked into the hospital, Tami was waiting at the front desk, made sure we had our customer ID cards and escorted us to the dental clinic. When it was over, we paid at the cashier in the dental clinic – a total of $30 USD including the one-time $10 new patient fee. No insurance, no waiting, no hassle.
At home, with insurance, I’m lucky to get out of the dentist’s office for less than $100 and I always have to wait. And believe you, me – there’s no smiley woman named Tami waiting for me at the front desk.
In Mumbai, we went to the pharmacy down the street from our hotel to get some medicine. The pharmacy was out of the pills we wanted. It was the day before we left for Kerala, so we figured we’d look for it later if needed.
“I can get it for you tomorrow,” the pharmacist then said.
The man was muslim and the next day was a muslim holiday.
“But won’t you be closed tomorrow?”
“Yes, but I will send someone to bring it to you at your hotel tomorrow before you leave for the airport. What time do you need it by?”
How could we refuse? Sure enough, we had the pills by 1:00pm the next day.
In the course of our average week, there’s very little we have to do aside from work. Sure, some of the simplicity comes from a lack of social connections and obligations. There’s no dinner with these friends, Saturday at someone’s party and Sunday with family. Those are good things – so the simplicity comes at a cost. We miss all the good times, shared experiences and togetherness.
Still, to us, this life feels easy.
That might no be so for everyone. Maybe we’re not even aware of all the challenges. Perhaps we’ve gotten used to them or we’ve just sublimated the stress and hassle.
It’s true, we uproot every week to two. We develop “backup” plans for Internet in each location like beavers building a backdoor to their lodge to escape predators. Languages are sometimes a hassle. In some countries we’ve been linguistically skilled like Nepal and Thailand, while in others such as Vietnam and Turkey – we have nothing.
When little problems occur, it can be a big deal.
Emily’s computer power supply fried and we needed a new chord ASAP. Luckily, we were in Singapore. Had it been in Vietnam, the experience of finding the right thing would have been stressful. I’m sure the right item is available – but figuring out where, which power supply and the correct price would have been an ordeal. Had it happened here in Laos, we’d be traversing the Thai border within an hour.
In Udaipur, India, we didn’t have a single day where either the Internet service provider in our hotel or the neighboring hotel’s cafe worked all day. Luckily, they usually alternated and we ran back and forth between buildings to get our work done.
In Bali, I had just returned our rental car – meaning the man who owned it came to the house to pick it up – when Conlan realized he had forgotten his sunglasses in the glove compartment. Unfortunately, we had a flight to catch and had just finished packing. Even worse, Kadek, the car owner, wasn’t answering his mobile phone.
What to do? There was no certainty that Kadek would take the car back to his shop because he lived in another village and may just as well have taken it home. Kadek works kinda’-sorta’ when the mood strikes. He prefers just renting out his cars and bikes, collecting the money and going home.
Meanwhile, Made (May-day) our driver came to take us to the airport. He had the car loaded and we needed to get going – we had a flight to catch. Kadek wasn’t responding, so we left with a disappointed and frustrated Conlan in tow.
While en route to the airport, Kadek called. He was in Ubud and the car was at the car wash – meaning people on a driveway were washing it by hand. Ubud was the opposite direction from the airport. I asked Kadek if he could locate the sunglasses. A few minutes later, he called back saying he had – but how should he get them to us?
We figured the only option was to send money to Kadek to have them shipped – either by FedEx to Penang, Malaysia where we were heading or to Conlan’s apartment in Los Angeles where we knew for sure he would get them. Then the question arose of how to get the money to Kadek. Keep in mind, Kadek doesn’t take Visa or MasterCard.
We talked about setting up a FedEx call tag and paying online so FedEx would come to Kadek and collect the glasses without having to figure out how to send money. We talked about maybe sending cash with Made to give to Kadek – which seemed like an imposition on Made.
Then Made said the magic words. “Kadek’s friend can bring them to the airport. He is like a messenger. I know him. He is a friend. Ask Kadek if his friend will bring the glasses to you at the airport – maybe you can pay him some money…” For $10, a man zipped down to the airport with Conlan’s glasses and got there just after we checked in for our flight.
Easy? Hard? Yes.
Without Made’s simple suggestion and personal knowledge, we would have been dealing with the sunglasses for days – hoping they would make their way home. Things like this just don’t happen at home – not this way, at least.
So maybe our life of travel has some complexity?
Emily thinks it feels easy and convenient in large part because we’re seasoned travelers who have become used to living this way. We adapt. We know how to identify resources. We ask, get creative, examine things from different angles and aren’t ashamed to cry when necessary.
Maybe so.
I think it’s just a question of what makes sense and what you value. Me, I thrive on figuring things out – learning the ins and outs of a new place and culture. It will be hard to put that aside and return to “everyday life.”
Of course, the known can be wonderful too. I’ve never come home and not appreciated all the blessings and conveniences. It’s nice to talk to people of the same language and culture. It’s great to spend time with family and friends. In fact, there’s nothing easier than being with people who know and understand your heart as you do theirs. It’s even better than folded laundry.
Sent from my iPad
