I love you Battuta

When you have a rough night, take a hot shower and cry into the water, and walk out to the hallway and your roommate calls up “hey, how are you feeling?” knowing that you’ve been sick, and you say, in the cracked, high-pitch voice you have left, “oh, not great, and also…” and trail off into a waterfall of confused words and tears. She comes up and gives you a hug and listens while you stand, dripping on the floor in your towel, nodding at your confusion and sadness.

Half an hour later, she asks, “want to watch a movie? and do a face mask?” and then you’re sitting on the couch together with hockey-mask wet paper on your faces, drinking tea, watching a silly movie and commenting on the overvaluation of female beauty.

The next morning, the friend you texted in a flurry of emotion last night writes you and says, “want a ride on my scooter and some good coffee?” and 20 minutes later you’re on the road, skirt flapping in the wind, hugging his back and letting tears run down your face under your sunglasses yet feeling so alive and so grateful for everything.

You sit together on centuries old stone stairs and talk about it all, crying a little bit more, and hearing the sad validation of the truth you already know.

He asks if you’ll eat something, and at 11:30 am, a closed restaurant agrees to serve you anyway, so you eat a delicious meal on a quiet patio surrounded by flowers and palm trees. He listens to all your overanalysis, buys you lunch, and drives you home in the beginning of the rain.

At the workspace, your voice wavers when another friend asks about your weekend and then suddenly, you are ensconced in a hug with three people wrapped around you.

You run into a different friend and step outside to talk. As you sit on a concrete ledge, three different friends walk past and each gives you a quick hug on the way by, whispering in your ear and holding on a little longer when their kindness brings the tears back into your eyes.

The friend you’re talking to says, “Wow, that’s so much love! That was amazing.” Yes, it is.

There are moments when Remote Year is hard and lonely, when you can have 50 people in the same city yet feel like no one cares about you, like you have no one who understands you, like maybe everything is a mess and you don’t know what you’re doing with your life.

It is easy to have fun together, to go on weekend adventures or stay out partying. But what is incredible and almost indescribable (though I’ll try) is the way anyone will stop in their tracks when they hear a quiver in your voice, when you decide to share a hard moment in your life.

Whether we’re at work, at home, or at a party, I’ve seen each of us steal someone away for a private talk when needed, protectively gather and stay nearby when being alone is too scary, make eye contact across the room with an open offer, text the next morning to check in again, and it goes on.

I joined Remote Year because I was tired of traveling alone, of not having anyone to bear witness to the things I saw and the adventures I had, no one to share the experiences with, of needing someone to be there for love and support and understanding and celebration.

Whatever it is, good and bad, every month has proven that our community is real and special and what I needed and wanted.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. There is so much love here.

Katherine is a digital nomad, working remotely while she travels the world — on the road since June 2014. She’s a member of Remote Year 2 Battuta, living around the world with 75 other digital nomads from February 2016 to January 2017.