On Living Abroad: Part 1
It’s just past 7:30 a.m., and I’m sitting in my living room, sipping coffee. In front of me, four windows span the wall, framing the Aegean Sea, the harbor, and the homes of Plomari below. The rust-colored leaves of the big tree out front catch my eye. I’ve watched this tree through the seasons—how, in spring, its leaves seemed to grow before my eyes, minute by minute. Families of birds moved in, shaking its limbs with their excited energy. Now, the leaves fall in clusters, lining the stairs below as the weather cools.
It’s quiet this morning. I can hear the faint hum of a motorbike in the distance, the soft footsteps of my neighbor’s daughter walking to school, two women chatting, and the gentle rhythm of my own heartbeat. I’m acutely aware that I’ll be leaving here on Saturday, and that thought brings an ache to every corner of my being.
It would be easy to assume life here is perfect—someone once asked my sister if I had any worries at all! But life is never perfect, and worries will find you if you’re inclined to entertain them. For me, though, life feels fuller here. The slower pace makes everything richer. Conversations stretch beyond surface pleasantries into something deeper and more personal. The lack of rushing and constant hustling leaves no place to hide—you have to be here, fully present. Where else could you possibly go? Convenience is stripped away, leaving you to rely on your own creativity and resourcefulness. What can you buy here? What can you make with it? How will you get it? And what happens if you simply can’t find it?
There’s so much I want to share about the joys and challenges of living an unconventional life. But as it’s a travel week, my thoughts feel like a herd of wild horses in a thunderstorm—each one charging in a different direction at full speed. So, for now, I’ve picked three things that are top of mind to kick off this series. They all tie together to set the tone for what I like to call Reality in Paradise.
Upsides & Downsides
It is easy to look at my beach days, walking old castles, petting cute cats, and strolling quaint cobblestone lined streets and think, “Must be nice!” And it is nice. It’s so nice that I have anchored my life and my heart here. But it is not for everyone, and it is not always easy. Here’s a few things that show the challenges and upsides of a few situations this year:
Navigating an Emergency Medical Situation
😬 Limited Greek (us) and limited English (staff) made things challenging. This wasn’t exactly Hoag Hospital Newport Beach, and we weren’t always clear on the process or next steps.
👍 Medical care was completely free—including the ambulance ride, ER visit, bloodwork, X-rays, and CT scans.
Getting Work Done on the House
😬 It’s hard to get people out to check critical issues. We’re not sure if it’s because we’re not Greek, there’s no shared language, or just a miscommunication.
👍 When the work is done, it’s beautifully crafted—our handmade bed and custom dining table are truly works of art.
Water, Water Everywhere
😬 We’ve had weeks with water shut-offs, no hot water, or days with no water at all due to lack of rain.
👍 Neighbors and friends have offered to bring water up from town on bikes or ATVs, which speaks to the kindness of the community.
Living in a 100-Year-Old Home
😬 The house comes with its quirks: millipedes, cracking walls, peeling paint (from water damage and earthquakes), and a rock wall outside that seems to be rapidly deteriorating. Some of it feels critical, but we’re not always sure.
👍 It’s stunningly beautiful. The wood-beamed ceilings glow at night, and the view is one of the best in the village—worth the hike up.
Charming Village Life
😬 Everything except restaurants closes on Sundays, so if you forgot to buy water or fresh bread, you’re out of luck. Daily closures from 2 p.m. to ? p.m. can also derail plans if you need something from the hardware store at 2:05 p.m.
👍 People here prioritize family, community, and rest. The slower pace of life feels much healthier than in many other places.
Everything Requires Work
😬 Example - The toilet isn’t working? Here’s the process:
Call a plumber (if they speak English or can decipher your Greek), but there’s no house address, so directions are based on landmarks like “where Panagiotis-who-used-to-own-the-taverna lived.”
Head to the hardware store (not on Sundays or between 2-? p.m.) and hope they have the part you need.
Use ChatGPT to figure out how to install the part since instructions are usually nonexistent.
Oh, and it might be a random holiday, so everything’s closed—good luck tomorrow!
👍 The effort makes every accomplishment more rewarding. Nothing here comes easily, but that only deepens our appreciation for the results.
Where is Home?
I was at coffee with a new friend yesterday who is from Plomari but lives in New York and lives similar to how we do - one foot here, one foot there, heart everywhere. She loves New York in the way that I love Plomari and it made me smile - we humans are always craving what we haven’t had and often taking for granted what we do. It was a good reminder to see the good in everything and to embrace being here (wherever that is) now. I consider Plomari my home now, despite being from California and living in the Pacific Northwest. When you move abroad home becomes a bit ambiguous, all of the sudden this constant north star for most people becomes something you can move around the board. Is it where you were born? Where you own a home? Or simply where you feel most at peace? While living abroad can make you feel at home everywhere you can also feel like you don’t belong anywhere either. There’s a Leonardo da Vinci quote that I kept thinking of yesterday, “Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” The world is so big beyond your hometown, your state and your country that once you leave, your mind expands at such a rate that you will return immeasurably changed. Once big issues are now small, small gestures become grand, values shift and shuffle within you, and the range of experiences to pull from are larger than they once were. It can feel as though you’ve undergone dozens of tiny changes that mount to significant growth and you are not sure who you will be or how you will be received when you return to your starting place.
Be Here, Now
As we transition into travel this weekend, I allow myself a lot of space to feel things. I have a long list of to-dos that need to start getting done. I’m mostly packed. We’ll pick the house up. I am deeply sad to leave the silly cats. I’m dreading the food in the States. I’m looking forward to squeezing friends and family and seeing them. I am looking forward to setting up a house for us to use when we’re back in the US. I’m excited to see what winter holds and for my birthday and the holidays and New Years. I wonder who I will be when I come back to this beloved island home. I hope my kittens make it. Constant hot water and same day delivery - the convenience of America beckons to me like a sirens call. My mind runs in ten thousand directions, my heart in even more. I need another cup of coffee, I’ll make a light breakfast. I need to move the olive wood under the bench out back and cover it before the rain finally starts today. I am here, now. I remind myself that I can hold all of the seemingly opposing feelings in my heart at once. I will continue this effort - corralling my wild horse-thoughts back into one single pasture - all day long for the rest of the week. Like Maslow says, "The ability to be in the present moment is a major component of mental wellness." He makes it sound so easy, doesn’t he?
In Conclusion
I have so much to say on living abroad, and from what I’ve heard you’ve got questions! I’ll be covering more in this series - things like learning the language, the hardest adjustments, the best parts and how we’re continuing to invent what our unconventional life looks like! If you’ve got specific questions or want to know more about anything - drop a comment below or send me an email!