Since I began my travels several decades ago, I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to live in three different countries. I cherished the first two experiences, yet they were not lasting. However, living in Mexico has been a delight, even if many people don’t quite understand it.
During my time in these various locations, the culture, cuisine, sounds, and aromas were vastly different. The inquiries from people back home remained unchanged. Especially the most frequent one:
So…what prompted you to relocate there?
It has become so routine that I could record a message on my device to replay when asked. The question is always identical, though the reasoning behind it often varies. Some struggle to pose this straightforward question as a proxy for their true thoughts.
Occasionally, it’s simply a seasoned traveler inquiring what drew me to Guanajuato—why that particular place among countless options? They are not interested in my departure from my home country but are curious about how I chose my new location. If they’re travelers, they constantly seek new recommended destinations.
More often, however, it’s someone puzzled from my birthplace attempting to articulate the outcry in their mind without appearing impolite. Why would you leave the USA (or Canada) for a less developed country willingly? Why would you take your child along? Why would you downgrade to a less “civilized” area? Are you escaping from something?
I patiently share the reasons about our low cost of living, reduced stress levels, more quality time with friends and family, the ability to enjoy life more freely, and the fact that we don’t require a car in a city where many streets are exclusively for pedestrians.
My daughter has become bilingual, providing her with a significant advantage in life. I can at least manage in a second language. We reside in a city where some buildings predate Jamestown or Boston.
Those are merely the straightforward answers. I could elaborate or get creative if they genuinely cared.
But they don’t.
It’s an unproductive endeavor that’s simply a form of courteous chatting, and I am aware it won’t change their views or silence the clamor in their minds. Their eyes have usually glazed over by the second sentence as if they are saying, “Does…not…compute.”
Relocating to another country without being retired and devoid of any job or family obligation pressing you there is just, well, absurd! Even if the climate is nearly perfect all year round and this is the view from my window sometimes after a light rain:
In Mexico, I live in better health, with more wealth, and greater happiness, in a more relaxed environment where life isn’t overly competitive. In a place where people work to live, not the reverse. But I don’t anticipate everyone to accept my perspective. They have been conditioned too severely to recognize a different reality than what they know.
Someone informed them that they reside in the greatest country in the world, and they accepted it, without needing to explore elsewhere. Some even think they are part of a standard healthcare system. Like North Koreans told by their government that everyone shares their suffering, many Americans perceive that the dreadful medical bureaucracy and profit-driven system they navigate is standard worldwide, not an anomaly.
Living Abroad Is Not for Everyone
It’s perfectly fine if those from my birthplace consider me insane. I get it. They genuinely don’t know any better.
There might be a few million Americans and Canadians living overseas, more if you include digital nomads, but that’s a minuscule percentage of the entire population. When we settle in a place that most cannot even locate on a map, we encounter dozens, hundreds, perhaps thousands of others like ourselves. We observe expat families raising children who turn out perfectly well. People like me maintain the same job they had in the USA, simply plugging their laptops into different sockets.
Thus, it starts to feel familiar to us. Yet the truth is that we’re a small minority. We may collectively match the population of Connecticut, but that state’s population is smaller than the number of yee-haws just in Houston. For now, at least, we remain a fringe movement.
I’m quite content with being on the fringe, though. I work independently and take time off whenever I choose. Unless my family is calling, I never feel an urgent need to check my smartphone. I have no boss to report to and no clock to punch. I’m Antifragile.
Let those adhering to someone else’s rules fret over their bad decisions.