Traveling around the world, mostly alone, for the past four years has made me extremely self-reliant. I know that, no matter how hard or dramatic a situation may seem, I have a good chance of survival. It is also likely that I won’t need to depend on anyone else to pull me out of trouble, to comfort me, or to help me. I will deal with it in a swift manner and try to learn the lesson the problem holds for me.

This is a practice I apply to business ventures too. One of the ways that I maintain my financial freedom is to diversify my sources of income. My money comes from different places to ensure that I don’t lose everything if one part of my internet business changes dramatically in one day, or one of my coffers dries up. I chose to become an entrepreneur and work for myself instead of others so I don’t have to keep up with the whims of others.

I also believe this is excessively important in social relationships, especially if relocating to a new city. Getting to know different kinds of people and maintaining a level of flexibility is the best way to really enjoy a place.

Unfortunately, this is a lesson that I continually fail to learn. I always put too many of my social eggs in one basket, and that basket is always male.

He is usually some combination of cute and fun and we hit it off right away. After I meet him I stop bothering to reach out to people, to make different friends, to expand my social circle. Everything is great and exciting until things change and they’re not anymore. Then I am left feeling lonely and frustrated and thinking to myself, How could I have let this happen AGAIN? And then I leave the place and the person in total flight mode, feeling sad and hopeless and that the only way to resolve the problem is to go far, far away.

The old adage states that we will continue to face the same problems again and again until we learn from them and change our behavior. While I’m a quick learner in most aspects of life, I’m somewhere at the kindergarten level here. This situation has repeated itself no less than four times before in four distinct places, and here we are again.

There are few things I can think of that are more depressing than losing a playmate, especially in a strange city where you have no kind of established social network to speak of. Actually arriving in the city knowing no one is easy, but feeling that sense of loss? Crushing.

That’s why it’s completely detrimental to rely on one person or thing for fulfillment. Relationships are temporary, just like everything else on earth. People’s interests change, they may go somewhere else, or die, or they might come to prioritize another relationship over the one you have.

The only person guaranteed to be with me for the rest of my life without fail is the woman who stares back at me in the mirror every day.

This doesn’t have to be a tragic or depressing story. If we look at it through an extreme realism perspective, understanding and accepting the fact that one day the fun will end with everyone who crosses our path, we are better able to live in the moment and extract as much joy from every encounter we have.

When I’m the one on the move, this is much simpler to practice. I come to a new place, I meet people and enjoy them, and then I leave, off to the next adventure. The ones that stay are always the ones that suffer more. Since I’m the one staying this time, my landscape changes every time someone comes in or out of my life. It’s a trippy role reversal that is proving hard to adjust to. I am starting to understand why people who live in touristy areas don’t want to meet visitors anymore.

It’s so important to continuously look within for that source of fulfillment. While external parties may do the job for a short time, they are fleeting, and when they stop giving, we feel empty again.

I am obsessed with self-reflection. The questions I ask myself daily are: What do I want out of life? What do I want to achieve? What’s important to me? What skills would I like to develop? Who do I want to be?

None of these answers come from outside of me. The path to self-fulfillment and happiness is a solo journey.

Some questions are just straight up awkward for a nomad to answer.

How long are you traveling for? What do you do? Where are you going next?

These kinds of questions literally make me squirm. I rarely have a comprehensible response. You would think that after having the same conversations so many times, I would have thought of something witty or interesting or mysterious to say.

And this new question, what are you doing here, is even more disconcerting than the others. I’ve been hanging out with lots of students lately, and the ones who are from other countries are actually doing something here – studying. They came here for a specific reason. They know how long they’ll be here, what they’re doing next, and why exactly they came.

Inevitably the conversation turns towards me. “What are you doing here?”

My reply is underwhelming, to say the least. “Not a whole lot,” I normally say. Or, in Spanish, “No… nada.”

You can imagine that this response is less than satisfying to my conversational partner. I’m met with a puzzled look and more questions. At this point, I have to choose a path. Should I focus on my obsession with Colombia? Should I talk about work and my digital nomad status? Do I have to give them all my travel stats?

I could try to be funny and say something like, “I’m addicted to arepas and Colombian coffee. Instead of seeking help for my problem, I decided to embrace it.”

Or I could just keep it short and deep with an answer like, “Because I belong here.”

I am actually doing things here. In order to stimulate myself, I have made 2012 my year of fun and learning. I am expressing myself musically with bongos and a violin. I am taking French classes. I enrolled in a photography course that will start in a couple of weeks.

I suppose I could mention these when the question pops up again, but none of these activities are location specific. I could be practicing French in France, or sharpening my violin skills in Austria, or learning about shutter speed and optimal lighting in Tokyo.

These new skills and abilities I’m developing are for my personal satisfaction and fulfillment and don’t have anything to do with Medellin or Colombia, so this answer would also be misleading.

What am I really doing here? What are any of us really doing anywhere? What would you say if someone asked you why you live where you do? I bet you’d be a little stumped, too.

I am doing a lot here. I’m being. I’m living. I’m enjoying myself. I’m meeting people. I’m experiencing different things. I’m looking for a way to stay. I’m loving my life here.

Isn’t that enough?

The aversion has continued throughout my adult life. I could never understand how some people can be so dedicated to a sport, buying hats and shirts and posters, never missing a game on TV and letting the topic infiltrate every conversation.

But a live game is a lot different than watching men run around on a flat screen. Feeling the contagion of excitement, unification with others rooting for the same team, and the high of a win in a group atmosphere is cool. So when I was invited to watch Medellin’s local team, Nacional, versus one of their rivals, Cali, I decided to take up the offer. Of all the aspects of Latin American culture I’ve explored, futbol fever is one I’ve never bothered to plunge in to. Until now.

Nacional fans

After a tight metro ride, waiting in line for ages and getting felt up by a female cop, we run into the stadium just in time for the beginning of the game. A sea of Paisas in green shirts fill the bleachers. In the ultra-fan section, massive banners that throw their hood up line the rows. Those not decked out in green and white striped jerseys are shirtless, and what they lack in uniform they more than make up for in intensity.

Since we are in Medellin, Cali’s fan base is excruciatingly small in comparison. On both sides of their designated area are empty bleachers, save dozens of police and Colombia’s SWAT team equipped with riot shields and helmets.

Cali supporters shielded by riot police

We settle into our seats and join the chanting, singing, clapping, and foot stomping that persists through the entire game. Little kids make up some of the most devoted supporters – tons of them are decked out in Nacional jerseys waving flags and throwing their hands up when they score.

The clock runs out and Nacional wins the game 4-0. The Cali fans leave 10 minutes before the game ends to prevent any conflicts. The crowd cheers and chants, “Ole, ole ole ole, Medellin, Medellin.”

In spite of my general dislike of sports, seeing the game live and experiencing the atmosphere was an experience worth repeating.

Maybe Colombia will turn me into a football fan after all.

Reading this post via email and can’t see the video? Check it out here.

My mom grabs an industrial-sized shopping cart out of the line and swings it around, making for the entrance. A woman dressed to the nines in pajama pants enters before us. My mom shows her membership ID card to the semi-retired employee and we push forward.

The sheer size of the warehouse is what overwhelms me. That, and the grayness. There are no windows here, just dim lights that hang off the ceiling several feet above us.

Our first stop is electronics. The only reason I have entered this suburban inferno (otherwise known as Sam’s) is to replace my MP3 player. We pass rows of flat screens and cameras, but no music players.

A woman in a bright blue t-shirt and perma-grin plastered on her face greets us. “Can I help you folks find something?”

My mom chimes in. “Yes, we’re looking for MP3 players.”

“Oh gosh, I actually don’t work here. I’m with DirectTV. Have you heard about our special?”

I cringe and walk away. We make another loop around the electronics section, but to no avail. A man approaches us this time, dressed in the same bright blue shirt and false smile. “Have you heard about the Direct TV special that we’re running?”

Eek. My mom is aware of my aversion to places like this and so tries to make it a quick trip. The first stop is a Tupperware aisle, where a middle-aged woman and her mother are staring at plastic containers in boxes. They hold a lengthy discussion about which set seems to offer the best value and the special features each one has. They weigh the pros and cons of each brand. Then they walk away with an empty cart.

Further down, rows of super-sized condiments stare back at me. The powdered creamer is large enough for a cat to hide inside. The tubs of peanut butter hold enough goo to make PB&Js for all of the kindergarten classes in the county.

Next are the fruits and vegetables. The selection of non-frozen and non-canned options is small. What is available is almost identical. The peppers are of the same shape and same color. The same is true of the strawberries, and the apples. There are no obvious discolorations or bruises. Not the kind that you’d find in a natural setting anyway.

The chip aisle is offering a discount if you buy two bags. A plastic bag is provided for the customer to place their two giant bags of chips into. So you can put two bags into another bag.

I’m certain my mom has detected the glaze forming over my eyes, so she heads to the check-out counter. It is here that I’m forced to stare at the Sam’s customers who have chosen to take their shopping experience to the next level and dine here. They snack on hot dogs and french fries while they perch on plastic benches next to their overflowing shopping carts.

The cashier hands us the receipt and we push our cart outside. The light is blinding – a stark contrast to the grayness inside. My mom pops the trunk and loads the groceries inside.

I lean against the car, look at her, and say, “If you ever hear me say that I’m done traveling, please bring me back to Sam’s.”

Photo by Wiedmaier

Maracas, one of my favorite beaches in the world

I also took a 10-day vacation from work and my blog to take a step back and think about what I’m going to do differently this year.

I strongly believe in personal evolution. There is always something I can do better or improve upon, whether it be physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually, and I plan to evolve a lot in 2012.

The Blog

I am a disciplined blogger. I put out around two posts a week, make them all at least 500 words in length, and add cool photos or videos for your viewing pleasure.

Because of the stringent rules I’ve put on myself and my blog, I sometimes find myself sitting in front of my computer after having just realized it’s been three days since my last post in a panic, racking my brain for interesting things to share. That means I don’t always put out blog posts that are inspired.

I don’t want to publish anything unless I put 100% effort into it. So in 2012, I will not be abiding to any kind of posting schedule. I will write when I have something really funny/quirky/profound/thought-provoking/cool to say.

I’m also not going to limit myself to a set word count. That can be agonizing sometimes. Now, I’m going to mix it up. At times, I’ll add one photo and tell a story about it. And when the story warrants it, I’ll write posts that are as long as they need to be.

I’m not going to play by any rules anymore. It’s not my style.

You + Me

In 2012, I’m going to work really hard at connecting with all of you who read my blog. Some of you are very interactive, and I really love that. I want to get to know the rest of you. Who are you? Where are you going this year? What are you passionate about? This blog is a two-way conversation. I want to know you.

Fun

my sister and I on New Year's Eve

I spent a lot of 2011 putting effort into building a self-sustaining lifestyle for myself. It’s paid off big time. I’m at a comfortable level financially and see lots of opportunities on the road ahead.

But I also want to have some fun! I won’t be in my mid-20s forever and I want to enjoy these years before I’m shopping for denture grip and playing bingo.

Music

I am fascinated by percussion and I am totally dedicated to learning how to play the bongos this year.

Exercise

It’s true, I’m skinny, and I’m very fortunate for that. That is all thanks to my vegetarian diet and good genes.

But I have always neglected the physical side of life. I usually avoid treadmills and extreme sports like the plague. I know there’s a whole other world I’m missing out on, so this year I’m going to be pushing my body’s limits and getting into better shape.

That’s what I’m looking forward to in 2012! What are you working towards this year?