Transitioning from Backpacker to Digital Nomad: a different way of making friends

Marbree Sullivan
5 min readOct 3, 2016

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When I set out for Bali and made the conscious decision to convert myself into a digital nomad, I knew it would be a time of transition with various challenges to face. I’d prepared myself for the change in mindset from going out and exploring every day (or lazing about in a hammock if that was the mood I found myself in) to finding a balance between exploration and work. But it didn’t occur to me how different the friendship landscape would look.

When you’re backpacking, friendships form fast. Far faster than they would at home. Surviving a harrowing minibus ride with someone you’ve just met — each of you squished between people whose language you don’t speak, live chickens on one lap and a basket of dead fish on another as you bump along in a vehicle that wouldn’t pass a safety inspection in any nation that has such a thing, a driver who looks about 14 and apparently learned to drive watching Hollywood car chases — can bind two people together. When you finally alight at your destination, it’s natural to walk off together in search of a place to stay. When the only two beds left at the guesthouse are in the same room, you know you’ll be heading out for dinner or a beer before long. You have an instant friend. And, perhaps because you know you’ll only be together for a few days, you both open up. You are yourselves in the most honest and easiest way. Maybe there’s a romantic connection but usually there isn’t. Maybe you exchange email addresses or become Facebook friends or maybe you don’t. Sometimes the connection is deeper and you actually keep in touch. And sometimes you cross paths again, intentionally or by chance. Most of those friendships pick up where they left off. Laughter comes easily, no one puts on a false front, you’re just people who get along well and shared a moment in time.

Making friends as an adult at home is a different game. Most of us spend the bulk of our time at work so our colleagues become the people we wind up spending time with. We may have little in common outside the office but the situational friendships we build in the workplace are critical to our sanity and success. Sometimes those become genuine friendships that extend beyond the office but it takes time to build those relationships. Years, in some cases. There’s some logic to this. At work, we put on our professional faces and try to keep our idiosyncrasies — thus, much of our personalities — hidden from our colleagues and bosses. Over time, we suss out those around us and figure out who we can trust, who we can be ourselves with. Slowly, we open ourselves and true friendships form. If we’re lucky, we also find friends who share our non-professional interests. We meet them in community organizations, book clubs, hiking groups, doing whatever it is we like to do. Because our interactions are typically limited to those structured gatherings (and perhaps the bar afterward), it takes time for acquaintances to become friends.

Now I’ve stepped into a different world. One where people work online, some remotely with colleagues elsewhere, some running their own businesses, many who freelance and work as independent contractors. People who left their home countries to live an existence that isn’t quite expat, not quite backpacker. Many stay long enough in a place to count as the former from time to time yet engage in periods of travel that classify them as the latter. So when you meet someone, you don’t know for how long you’ll both be in the same place. Everyone is transient to some degree. The world of digital nomads is still relatively small. As are the places we tend to congregate. The odds of meeting again seem to be higher than the odds for backpackers. Which means there’s more at stake.

So how does one navigate these waters? Neither the quick sharing of backpackers nor the reticent unfolding between adults living a conventional western life makes sense. There isn’t time for the slow peeling back of layers and deconstructing of walls one can engage in when staying and working in one place for years. Fortunately, most people who pursue a nomadic life are fairly open and pretty comfortable with themselves. So while the layers of depth and history are just as rich as those we’d meet at home, there usually aren’t as many bricks in the walls we’ve built.

Our interactions aren’t the same as those we have at home with our colleagues or the players in our softball league. Nor do they involve the sort of instant-bonding that crazy adventures in foreign lands sometimes do. We meet in coffee shops and co-working spaces. We share meals, we invite each other along to classes or excursions to see or do something unique to where we are. We talk about our projects, help each other with whatever skills or professional knowledge we each possess. They’re valuable and wonderful encounters and I’m grateful for each one that I have. And I think they’re the key. With each of those experiences, a shared history is built. In time, conversations get deeper and more personal than work and the gloss of where we’re from and where we’ve traveled.

While some friendships come and go, others run for decades. It’s too soon for me to know how long my newest friendships will last but I’m not worrying about that. I’m happy to have people I can meet up with for hours of working in a coffee shop or by a pool, people to go to dinner with or to check out a temple or spend a few days with diving outside of Ubud. I don’t know if or when I’ll have another instant bonding experience nor do I know if or when I’ll settle down in one place for a long time. So if my current strategy of repeated encounters with people who’s company I enjoy doesn’t work out in the next place I go, I’ll try another one. In the meantime, I’m grateful to be in a place with so many wonderful people who are willing to have me around.

If you enjoyed this, please give it some ♡. It helps others see my words.

Marbree Sullivan is a former attorney who’s been traveling full time since 2013. She’s passionate about diving, writing, and the transformative power of travel, no matter how short the trip or how far from home it takes you. Find more at ChasingTheUnknown.com.

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Marbree Sullivan

A recovering attorney exploring the world. I plan other people’s trips; I write; I dive; I refuse to return to an office. Find me at chasingtheunknown.com/blog