Embracing Temporary Chapters, Bond Wisdom, and Holiday Cow Carcass [FF Vol. 23]
When I first started Ferg’s Focus, I redacted parts of some stories that I considered too vulnerable to share publicly. Moreover, as I continue with my life abroad, I find myself less-inclined to post about my experiences. I prefer the privacy, and there is something valuable in keeping memories for myself (a practice modern society is on the brink of losing altogether).
Contrarily, I enjoy writing for and stimulating the thoughts of those who take the time to read my pieces. That internal back-and-forth spurned me to finally put down on paper a thought that I had been previously unable to translate into words. What resulted is one of my rawest essays to date.
The Disgruntled Nomad (Part Two)
Many of you may recall my piece published a bit over a month ago titled The Disgruntled Nomad (Part One). It was an exposé, if you will, on the digital nomad community as I’ve come to know it and the surprising dissatisfaction within it—a dissatisfaction that equally caught hold of me in my latter days ripping the road.
It wasn’t until recently that I found a thought framework that may just be the saving grace to all the lonely and wandering out there.
Are we so self-righteous to think we’re in control of what remains permanent anyways?
Meditations While Meandering (July 3, 2024)
Permanence on a Silver Platter: The Disgruntled Nomad (Part Two)
My community had been suffering the most at the hands of this hubris. I no longer felt tied to Oklahoma where I grew up, nor Arizona where I attended university. I was completely detached from any place, and it was part and parcel because I had neglected to try and plant roots anywhere.
No more, I resolved. There was a way to break out of this transient loop—I just had to experiment with a different tactic.
I determined to approach my month in Miami with a new thought framework, led by this question:
“Even though this chapter will surely be over in a month, how would I act if it was where I was meant to be permanently? How would I treat this place if this is where I was for the rest of my life?”
Remarkably, it (sort of) worked…
A Word from Everyone’s Favorite 00
On the double-standard of criticism:
“Why is it that people who can’t take advice always insist on giving it?”
Barrio Chatter
I cross fewer borders than I used to now. While my world is reduced to a handful of blocks some days, it would be disingenuous to assume there are fewer stories to dig up. In each edition, I’ll share the latest chat from my barrio (neighborhood), hot off the presses.
Every 4th morning, I walk a couple of blocks around the corner to my butcher, Neto. He’s not the nearest butcher to me, nor the cheapest. But he’s got a regular in me by the same means everyone else keeps their regulars: conversation and a good chuckle each time I come in.
Butchers (or carnicerías) in Buenos Aires are a known gathering place for the older male demographic each morning. Pass a handful, and you’re bound to catch one with a group of silver-haired patrons with their hands on their stomachs, bellowing with laughter from some off-color joke.
On this particular morning, Neto was receiving his daily shipment from the meat suppliers (delivered via box truck and by the cow). It was to be a holiday in a day, so instead of the singular cow he normally orders each morning, today they were bringing in two:
Me: …and a half-kilo of ground paleta. Ground twice please.
I take a step and press myself against the glass display as one of the deliverymen squeezes past me with a frosty cow carcass draped over his shoulders.
Neto: That’s all?
Me: Ya.
Neto: One moment.
Neto and the cow bearer heave the steer onto a large metal hook, passing it through the haunches to hang down vertically.
Cow Courier 1: Neto, mano! Can I use your toilet? My brother is about to bring in the second cow.
Neto: Of course. You know where it is.
Cow Courier 1 heads back to the toilet. Neto turns back to me.
Neto: How do you pay today?
Me: Is there still a discount with cash?
Neto: 10%, of course.
Me: Then, you know my answer.
Unknown voice: Opa!
I turn and step back just in time to dodge the hindquarters of a second bloody cow and the second cow deliveryman scuttling by.
Neto: One moment.
Neto and Cow Courier 2 repeat the process and hang this cow parallel to the former. I count out my cash on the counter.
Cow Courier 2: Thanks for the help. Hey, can I use your toilet before we continue?
Neto: Well, your partner is already in there, but…
Neto turns to me with a wry grin and winks.
Neto: We’re an open environment, and we don’t judge. So, have at it!
Cow Courier 2 cocks his head back and cackles. Neto erupts with laughter and places a hand on his belly for good measure. I mimic with my hand on my belly too.
Neto with his holiday haul
Thanks once again for reading Ferg’s Focus! My goal is to continue using uncomfortable experiences to learn and in turn share meaningful lessons and insights about the world beyond the small bubble of predictability at home.
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Until the next,
