By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
Last year was a challenging one, full of difficulties and upsetting moments. It culminated in a massive leap into the unknown. Day to day I still navigate this unexpected change in life plans, as I once again find my footing while on the other side of the planet. After spending the past several years working and living abroad I have become comfortable with being immersed in far-flung worlds and cultures foreign to me. The newness is motivating and refreshing, and provides a wide lens through which to view life and culture. In fact, I find it more difficult to be surrounded by the mundane of an ordinary life back home. With a background in science I decided to try my hand at teaching as a way to experience life abraod. And I loved it, especially in an international context where the students taught me so much. I started out teaching ESL in South Korea, and later moved on to teaching secondary science in Tokyo. My dream job! Or so I thought. The stress and loneliness of life in Tokyo was soul crushing. I limped out of Japan at the end of my contract. Desperate for a more positive experience and balance, I signed a promising contract in China. In the meantime, I came to Bali to decompress and pass summer on a stunningly beautiful island. I’ve visited Bali before, but never to chase pre-fab dreams of Eat, Pray, Love. It’s an easy and welcoming place to be. The beautiful Balinese provided the warmth and connection I craved in Tokyo. It was good. But then, everything got turned on its head. Falling seriously ill in Bali last summer tested my boundaries, comfort levels, and most basic belief that everything was going to be ok. I developed a blood clot in my arm. A freak occurrence that could have been related to a surfing wipeout, yoga, or just a culmination of years of stress and tension being held inside broad swimmer’s shoulders. And here I thought I had been living my life well. I’m supposed to fly to China next week to start a new job and life, I thought as I lay on the exam table in one of the western hospitals as the ultrasound technician confirmed my worst fears. I knew I wouldn’t be able to fly for some time with this potentially fatal DVT. And I was calculating how I would survive this, both physically and financially. I quietly cried while staring at a large water stain on the ceiling. I was stuck in paradise in the middle of the Pacific. How did I arrive at such a paradox? Why was I being forced to stop and contemplate my mortality on this world-renowned island? My doctor that seemed incompetent at best, and who prescribed massive doses of different blood thinners that shouldn’t be mixed, made for some terrifying days in the hospital. The employer in China stopped responding to emails when I said I couldn’t fly. I was scared, and I was alone. And I felt utterly ill-equipped for knowing what to do with a life that was stepping beyond the predictability I had created. Slowly, pieces appeared to help sustain me a bit at a time. Most importantly, they provided little nuggets of hope that things really would be ok. Pension money. Support of friends. Online design work in my field of education. I took advantage of being in one of the largest digital nomad communities to learn how I could make a life out of this unplanned detour. And so I completed my treatment and focused on my health. I stayed in Bali as I didn’t have obligations pulling me elsewhere. So as my personal belongings and mementos, sent ahead to await my arrival, hide away in a dark school closet in China, surrounded by extensive quarantines imposed by COVID-19, I still wonder when my life will achieve a sense of normalcy again. But I also wonder if it ever will find this balance, or if I will find my own, new sense of normalcy in this constant change and uncertainty. And maybe, actually, I’ll find this is the balanced life I have always hoped for.