The cost of YOLO
This is not a form of discouragement. Before you read this, please remember that we are friends, sitting down on your porch (or mine), sipping wine (or coffee, whatever you prefer) while watching the sunset, talking about the recent life changes that appeared in many different forms.
In short, you and I, are slowly accepting we are adults.
I recently wrote about my 4-year old advice about quitting your job to travel the world that made your world spin like a fast toy top:
โIt took me years to find the courage to quit my job to travel the world and now this travel blogger bitch I followed all this time is taking it back.โ
It might have been confusing to you because it really is to me. But what made me write that post is again, finding myself in a different circumstance.
I never wanted to grow up. I wanted my grandparents to live forever, for my skin to stay less damned, to smoke and not feel my lungs falling apart, to drink 10 bottles of wine (with tequila shots in between) without having to deal with the hangover the next day, to carry 90L backpacks for the rest of my life, to live in different places every time I had the chance, to speak more languages fluently easily, to be able to move and move far and wide.
โAge is just a numberโ stayed as the strongest mantra through those 7 years I was traveling without having a home; without having to go back home. I still believe in it but my body seems to disagree.
My grandmother died in 2014 and now my grandfather is very ill. My skin is becoming more damned each day as I struggle to make up for it from all those years I didnโt care.
I wake up every morning and I feel like my lungs are breaking into pieces. I drink 1 glass of wine and still get a hangover the next day. I shifted to small luggage โ I canโt even take a small backpack for 3 weeks of travel.
While the endless moving still excites me, it wore me out. I decided to make Tel Aviv as my base for the time being. Along with this, I am trying to learn Hebrew relentlessly.
Even if I can speak 5 different languages, my cognitive skills are not that sharp anymore. Itโs rejecting the Hebrew progress. All of these limited my ability to move far and wide.
This change in the human body is something I donโt have control of. As a person who has moved and moved and moved all her life, I am still in the process of learning how to not abuse the capacity of the human body.
My visa in Neverland expired so I was forced to grow up. (Shit!)
What is this adulting thing? How the fuck do I do this? The confusion is not only to add drama to my life but I was really at a point in my life where I didnโt know what to do.
โYou traveled to 70+ countries, live outside your country all your younger years, learned to be by yourself all this time โ why is this hard for you?!โ
With the experiences I accumulated from years and years of travel, I had the assurance that I am un-freaking-breakable.
The constant reminder to myself that โI know everything. I can do anythingโ is still there but when I entered this adulting world, I felt like I needed to enroll in a short course.
โBills? What bills? Why canโt the freaking bills pay themselves?โ
YOLO in Cusco, Peru: beating the cold and altitude with shitloads of alcohol.
Now that I have my own apartment in Tel Aviv (which I love so dearly), I have to do things Iโve never done before.
Bills. I, fortunately, have the money for the bills (thank God. I donโt want to go back to being a poor backpacker again) but I donโt have any idea how to pay them.
You might say itโs easy (because it really is!) but bear in mind that you and I didnโt have the same life situations growing up.
I was always out there jumping to different cities, galloping continents, and shuffling relationships left and right. I never had to pay bills myself. You know, to be physically and mentally present in the billing process.
My house rent wasnโt paid on time the other day but the money is already there. Like many travelers who took their time on the road, going back to society requires looking at the time.
Having a sense of urgency has been very difficult for me because I never deemed it important. For me, life was an endless stream of taking all the time I need. Fudge! My travel evolution is getting more serious each day.
The cost of YOLO
Again, this is not meant to discourage you. Remember we are 2 friends sitting down on your porch (or mine), sipping wine (or coffee, whatever you prefer) while watching the sunset, talking about the recent life changes that appeared in many different forms. In short, you and I, are slowly accepting we are adults.
I can see that you are still in a different train station and denying that we are aging but itโs fine. You might be 5-7 years younger than me.
Oh no, actually, letโs put it that way. You are younger than me and is about to go out there and do some life-changing โsabbaticalโ.
To YOLO is not a joke. This shit is real. YOLO is freaking true. Most of our friends make silly jokes about it but itโs serious and you should do it.
Kiss a boy (or a girl), sleep on the street, cross a border for 5 days, try everything and do everything that makes you curious because You Only Live Once.
But donโt forget it comes with a price. Good news though โ you really can YOLO without the money. I am going to be 29 in exactly 37 days and now I am looking at all those times I traveled without (a lot of) money but still made it.
Oh, donโt get me wrong. I wasnโt able to travel the world with zero money. While those travel for free articles you read on the Internet are true to those who right it, did anyone explain to you it comes with hard work, too? Are you stuck in that belief that there is such thing as free travel?
Let me tell you some of my remarkable YOLO stories that involved spending a lot of money.
To YOLO is to go to Brasil and experience the World Cup
It has been a life-long dream for me to witness one of the greatest sporting events in the world (in my life, itโs the only one) so I vowed to myself no matter what it takes, I will go to Brasil.
I was just starting the blog then (2014) so it didnโt generate any income but I also was getting good at juggling online jobs. As soon as I arrived (from Bolivia, by land), I immediately withdrew my first $800 salary (after a long time of truly being financially unstable). I was very happy.
I was slowly proving to my parents I can be out there without their financial help but after I took out this amount from the atm, it got fucking stolen.
โWhy today?! This day was supposed to be good! Why! Why! Why!โ
I was already there and I couldnโt hold back. It was a dead end. How the fudge was I going to move without money? I didnโt want to call mom but I did. Shit.
I explained to her what happened and begged her to lend me a thousand dollars that I will promise to give back. Not sure how I am going to pay it back but you know, YOLO. I always programmed myself I will always find a way (because I always did).
YOLO in Rio de Janeiro (World Cup 2014) with my Colombian friends.
She said no. I felt my body was torn into pieces. I couldnโt move.
โMom, please, please, please, please.โ
โI didnโt choose that life for you. I am sorry you have to be on your own. I will only give you money if you decide to book a ticket back home. That, I will generously pay for no matter the price.โ
Fuck.
โAnd donโt tell me you are kawawa (wretched). You are in Brasil and is about to experience the World Cup. Whatโs kawawa with that?โ
Lesson: Sheโs right. She didnโt choose this life for me. I did. Why should I burden her financially? Isnโt this my own action that nobody forced me to do?
Not to mention I was only calling if I needed something (what a shameless child!).
So I went out there, on my own, without hard feelings. I accepted my mother was right because she always is. That was the only way I could survive that unfortunate event.
I was Couchsurfing in Rio de Janeiro so I didnโt have to worry about paying for accommodations. My host and I get along very well.
Itโs a sign she wonโt be evicting me any time soon. All I needed to figure out was how to make it through the World Cupping month without having to ask other people for money.
My backpacking friends knew about the situation and everyone was kind to me. No, itโs not the kind pity but the โkindโ kind.
You know, just being generous about a lot of things. I was very happy to be surrounded by people like this but I was fucking uncomfortable.
YOLO. The things you do when you are 23. In Brasil. During the World Cup.
To YOLO with a third world passport and a budget airline
โฆ. sounds unimaginable. First, the destinations are very limited. Philippine passport holders can only visit 60-ish countries youโve never heard before visa-free.
Who goes to freaking Djibouti? What the hell can I do in Madagascar? Is Kosovo even a country? At present, these countries are all amazing to me but when I went to Morocco 3 months ago (totally visa-free for Filipinos), I booked a $400 ticket (RT) from Tel Aviv.
Very cheap. I saved a lot of money because the usual fare is $800 and up.
The flight was going from Tel Aviv to Barcelona, to Casablanca then back from Casablanca, Milan, Bucharest to Tel Aviv. 25+ hours of flight and $400 roundtrip. What a sweet deal, I thought!
Sure, itโs a long flight but as a YOLOist, I will endure that pain as long as it can save me a lot of bucks. It has been like this all these years.
Until I wasnโt allowed to board my flight from Tel Aviv. There was a thing I failed to oversee when I booked this ticket. I didnโt see that these flights are with different airlines.
Meaning, I will have to go out of Barcelona (and Milan going back) to board another flight with another airline. It means I need to have a visa in order for this cheap flight to work.
Gosh. These booking platforms didnโt even have the decency to call me when I booked the tickets weeks before the trip.
Gosh. I didnโt even see that coming. I didnโt want to be responsible for my actions.
I called the booking website who claimed it was a toll-free number but I was charged $20 for a 3-min call. During the conversation, I was also informed that I canโt get a refund for the ticket because itโs already 2 hours before the flight.
My trip was going to last for a month so I can still refund the Casablanca-Milan-Tel Aviv ticket if I wanted to.
This trip was already planned and I donโt want to cancel it. First, my visa in Israel was going to expire (in 2 days) so if I donโt go out of the country, I will be possibly penalized for overstay and not allowed to go back for who knows how long.
Israel has very strict rules with overstaying so the thought of being banned scared the shit out of me.
And so, I booked an $800 ticket with a high-class airline and never looked back. It was too late for me to blame myself for the mishaps but if I wasnโt in that situation, I wouldnโt learn. Seriously, do we ever learn?
Lesson: Donโt book with cheap airlines most especially if itโs a long-haul flight. I also realized (and computed) all those years I traveled with cheap airlines with 30+ hours of travel.
The flights were really cheap but I never included those lunches, dinners, snacks, and books I bought while I was on a long layover. Those shouldโve not been omitted from the ledger.
To YOLO with a third world passport without a plan
Most of my YOLOs consisted of poor decisions and wrong information. When I was starting to travel, there werenโt enough travel blogs (especially Filipinos) to validate the visa issues I faced. I had to be the guinea pig and try things on my own before doing it right.
YOLO in La Paz, Bolivia with my co-bar workers: clearly, everyone in the picture was pretty drunk.
Last year, I went to Georgia because I read everywhere it was visa-free. If not, I can just get a visa when I am already there.
I proved this to be wrong when this Greek airline didnโt allow me to board which shattered all my excitement to visit this exotic country.
I spent hours and hours at the check-in counter proving them my point. I said โI donโt need a visa to Georgiaโ repeatedly. What came to my mind when they were denying me check-in was, again, the $350 (one-way) ticket I will probably never get the refund.
Plus, if they didnโt let me board, I wouldโve booked another ticket to God-knows-where because my visa in Israel was expiring that same day.
Lesson: Donโt act like your passport is first-world. Research. Your fearlessness will not solve anything but it can really put your spirit up. I like this part better.
Another lesson: To YOLO is to live on the edge. To live on the edge is freaking stressful.
Being a professional YOLOist was an occupation I never regret
Did I scare you? Youโre still reading? Well, youโre in for the good part. This isnโt a story of regrets; of taking back all the things I did; of what-I-could-haves.
Sometimes, while reading a book lying on my couch and a phrase I can relate to hits, I look back and think about all those instances I felt was the end of me: I am still here. I am still alive. And I am better, above all.
I will never tell anyone that YOLO is bad because it really isnโt. No matter how expensive it is, courage can never be bought.
The experiences you will have when you YOLO donโt come with a price tag. You canโt walk into any store and say โhow much is a jar of meaningful life experiences?โ
If I didnโt jump into the unknown, if I didnโt say yes to everything, to anything, I wouldnโt be sitting in this beautiful apartment with my own gorgeous office table.
I wouldnโt be able to afford this life I live now. Those experiences converted to energies and enthusiasm that made me earn a living today.
In short, you will never know how to make decent money if you donโt have any idea what you want to do in life first. You have to be wrong first. You have to commit a lot of mistakes first.
Oneโs experience is never a question. We are down to the final sip of the wine (or coffee, whatever you like, really) and this is the part where I hope I convinced you that YOLO is not a bad thing even if it comes with a price.
We are at different chapters in life so 99% percent of the time, you will find my logic (and my writing confusing).
I said quit your job to travel in 2013 and donโt quit your job to travel in 2017 because this is the โchangeโ presented before me.
Before you react violently to how confusing my writing is, answer this: โwhich chapter of my book am I in at the moment?โ Should I do what other people did? Should I base my life on their stories?
The problem with us, young people, is our desire to clone other peopleโs booksโ pages and make them ours. No one has the exact same life as you.
What happened to me doesnโt mean it will happen to you, too. I get a lot of questions about this all the time: โwhat will happen will I go out there and do what you did?โ Iโd say go out there and write your own.
You donโt know. I donโt know. Nobody knows. Iโd say go out there and write your own story. You will want to find your situation sitting by the porch with a friend, sipping wine (or coffee, whatever you prefer) while watching the sunset, talking about the recent life changes that appeared in many different forms.
This will be the time that you are slowly accepting the adulting life. Let others go their own way and create their own path. Let others learn from you.
When I was out there and found myself in the most difficult situations, I turned to Deepak Chopra and it always made me understand life better:
โIf you obsess over whether you are making the right decision, you are basically assuming that the universe will reward you for one thing and punish you for another. The universe has no fixed agenda. Once you make any decision, it works around that decision. There is no right or wrong, only a series of possibilities that shift with each thought, feeling, and action that you experience.โ
Wine (or coffee) is finished. Itโs time for me to leave you alone by the porch so youโll have time and space to think. Enjoy the sunset. You only live once. Xx