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?

A Word from Everyone’s Favorite 00

On the double-standard of criticism:

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:

Thanks for reading Ferg’s Focus! My goal is to use 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,

-Ferg