Fun, funds and friends — The secret to survival in the city
If there’s something I’ve learned this past month is how solace comes from the most simple things.
A few years ago, a professor I had in college, one with whom I also happened to be crushing on, asked me to bring coffee for him. It sounded like a simple task: retrieve coffee and bring it to him, what could go wrong? When I got to the spot, I discovered I had to make the coffee myself. How many spoons of coffee powder was I supposed to put in? And how many of sugar? Was he even expecting this sort of coffee? I settled on what seemed reasonable and proceeded to bring it over.
Sadly, the coffee never reached his lips.
Just as I was about to give him is long awaited and much needed early morning coffee, I dropped it over him. We both were lucky the coffee wasn’t as hot as it could have been after my trip around campus on a cold winter morning, and even though his white shirt ended up with stains all around, he didn’t get mad at me, in fact, he laughed. I laughed too. We all did.
Considering my clumsiness, whenever possible I avoid serving or hosting anything. I can deal with a badly presented meal for myself, but I cannot deal with presenting that to someone else, and rather than obsessing over making sure every little thing is perfect, for a long time I’ve found myself just avoiding situations where I’d be in charge of such tasks, instead opting to offer help, chiming in small trivial tasks, like cutting carrots at a cocktail party.
Yet now, living by myself, I find myself enjoying instances where my role is to host and serve, even if the end result’s not as perfect as I’d like. Sharing a cup of tea or a meal with friends at your own place seems a much better way to have fun, company and bonding than going somewhere else, –not to mention significantly cheaper–.
Work has me traveling around country rather frequently, and in such a time this month I thought it’d be the perfect occassion to save some money. The trip started early morning on Saturday, where a six hour trip and two snack-and-bathroom stops later we arrived to a small farm in the middle of nowhere to learn about permaculture. The snacks came out of my pocket, by the way.
Several workshops, lectures, dry-toilet uses and great vegan food later we were then on our way to Temuco, a relatively large city located on Chile’s southern third.
As the bus went on, I kept reflecting on how the permacultors lived such a different reality: making their own food, raising their own animals and preparing their own beer. Their dependance on outside providers was minimal, this was true self-sustained growth.
They were able to live in a way I’d never seen before, but attaining such a life style didn’t –and still doesn’t– seem compatible with the life I have now.
After arriving at our Airbnb apartment, we went out to grab some food at a place called El Almacen (The Warehouse), known for its traditionally Argentinian pizzas and empanadas. On the following day, we went to Mercato for lunch and an Irish pub for dinner. How had we gone from collecting our own foods’ ingredients to just going out all the time so quickly?
Like I said, I enjoy being served, but after what we had experienced with the permacultors it seemed a little jarring to me, but not jarring enough to actually complain or do anything about it.
On our final day, the event that had brought us there in the first place happened and while we didn’t go out, we ended up buying foodstuffs from local entrepreneurs who attended. After everything was over, we stayed until our bus left at one of our workmates’ hostel/house complex, where we had dinner and smoked a little weed. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to get high, but I guess that was some sort of weird team bonding experience?
Once again on a bus, we were on our way back home. Thinking about what I had to do once back home made me feel a little anxious, but then another thought made it all even worse: the money.
I spent so much more than I had planned on initially going to all these places that I couldn’t help but feel guilty after the trip was over.
I did have a good time, so I guess you could say it was well spent, but at the same time, knowing we could have had all the meals we had back at our rental, saved some money and possibly have another kind of bonding experience was a feeling I just couldn’t shake.
It’s hard to make everyone not spend money on experiences, after all, you’re paying for an expectation that probably gets fulfilled most of the time, and if it doesn’t get fulfilled you have the right to be angry or sad at someone.
Someone that’s not you.
But at the same time, it’s not all about the money, it’s also about those little touches that make the experience yours and fulfilling your own expectations of yourself.
I guess that’s why I’ve found myself enjoying hosting things more now: I can save some money, but I can also make things my own way, I can create a safe space in which to share, talk and have fun, which is precisely what I wanted out of living by myself.
That by no means is to say I don’t enjoy going out now, but I see the other side of the coin in a much warmer light now.
The permacultors have no doubt mastered that art of self-fulfillment, which is a quality I admire in them and any other practicioners very much, but how compatible is such a lifestyle when you live in a big city? Not very much, I’m afraid. I’d be happy to be proven wrong, however.
Anybody up for chat and drinks tonight?⁂
Two posts per week seems like a nice schedule for now, so I’ll try sticking to that for this little venture.
Topics I’m currently contemplating are dating, work antics and life when you’re single. Suggestions?
In the mean time, if you’d like you can connect with me in the following ways:
See you!
