“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”
When I left the USA in August of 2011 I did not intend on anything. I was just going for a stroll through South America. Earlier that year I committed to attending my cousin’s wedding in Aruba, and afterwards accompanying my parents for a weeklong stay in Venezuela. I had become increasingly unhappy with my employment but had planned to stick it out until I had recovered from a major surgery I was scheduled to have. In the end, a nasty cold delayed the operation and gave me an opportunity to think about it further. I decided against it. It was dangerous, scarring, and expensive. I kept my money and quit my job.
Now, what I really wanted to do was start a business, but the only individual I trusted to join me declined. He had his reasons. Accordingly, his name wasn’t on the Y Combinator (YC) application that Paul and Co. rejected. I’m sure they had many more reasons besides me being a single-person startup. It was too bad, since it was (is) a good idea that I knew I would execute well. I had already developed a portion of the technology, I had my own capital, and I already had a revenue model based on tariffs from the money transferred between users. The pieces all seemed to be in place, other than the fact that I was alone. If that was the only reason YC said ‘No’ then I would agree. For three years the majority of my work was in solitude. That among many things, burned me out. I had developed such an aversion to technology that I couldn’t look at a computer. I didn’t want to repeat this mistake. I let the vision die. A year later I learned why I felt the way I did:
I can’t state this enough: Programmers don’t burn out on hard work, they burn out on change-with-the-wind directives and not ‘shipping’.
— Mark Berry (@markab) March 18, 2012
(Never let absent non-programmers steer the ship.)
A month later there was a brief illusion that Google wanted me, but it turned out that the recruiter was just wasting my time. I was unemployed, with some spare cash, and a paid ticket to South America. My next move seemed fairly straight forward.
The plan was simple: I was going to travel from Venezuela to Colombia, down the Andes, across to Argentina and up to Brazil and returning north to Venezuela to stay another while before heading back home. Of course, if you do visit Venezuela (which I don't recommend) you will understand why you can't travel there. I was going straight to Colombia when my great aunt invited me to follow her on a family visit to Ecuador, and so I did. I've been here since October of 2011. To cut a long list of reasons short: I've learned some powerful lessons about myself and the world here. I have a kind extended family here. I'm now a citizen, and can stay here indefinitely, and would like to do just that.
And therein lies my problem. This was not planned. I didn’t come with the right things to move. I left some things back home undone. And most importantly, I no longer have any money. I can work odd jobs to keep myself afloat, but a Stafford Loan payment forces me to make a certain amount of money per month. I can make a decent living as a software engineer anywhere, and I recently shook my case of coder’s block and technology aversion. In fact, I found a new passion for my art.
Learning to fall in love with your profession again
The experiences at my previously employer left me pretty fried. By the time I left, I was unable to deal with a computer. I would sit at one for an hour or two before walking away in disgust.
I had to return to why I became a programmer in the first place, a decision I made back when I was 14. I had always loved creating things that could be experienced, whether it be theatre, music, or websites. I love engineering design. I shouldn’t be working, I should be making a living doing something I love. On this trip I’ve met a few people who were successful in doing just that, and as a result they experience a priceless freedom.
My return to technology was forthcoming as I had begun to edit my photographs, but the major push resulted from a feeling of responsibility: I received important changes to Ruby SerialPort, an open-source project I maintain for the community. People depend on this thing. It’s been downloaded almost a 1000 times since I released the new version in late May.
Afterwards, I became excited about building a website on Puerto Lopez, a fishing town on the Ecuadorian coast that I’ve called home for the past two months. There is so much here but the information in travel guides miss so many important details. I decided I could do a better job. It’s a work in progress, but the “Isla de la Plata” page already contains details not found in books. In the process I’ve been getting up to speed on technology that was released or updated this year. I’ve also started learning new things, like Adobe Illustrator. Enjoy the following indigenous whale!
Unfortunately love alone won’t result in greenbacks for Uncle Sam. Paying work will. Now that I’ve updated my website and work history an aggressive effort will be launched tomorrow. So tell your friends Hector is opening his doors. I will take payments in the US, and will pay US taxes. Likewise if I don’t make it I’ll be needing a job when I return.
I’m giving myself two weeks to find work. While I’m not researching leads and sending out emails I’m going to be working on VisitPuertoLopez.com.
What happens if you can’t find anything?
If things don’t come to fruition then I will use the money I have to book a flight back to California. Most likely from Quito, but perhaps Panama if my family decides to not visit me and I want to go on one last adventure. We’ll see.
I don’t like the idea of returning to the USA, but it may be the only option. Whatever the case I will immediately go to work like many immigrants do: focused and determined.
Only time will tell my destiny.
