Today, I worked 16 hours, my recently typical schedule of English teaching and Santiago Times editing.

I woke up before the sun, but was still running late and had only 15 minutes to freshen up before cramming onto the metro during morning rush hour. I later walked for blocks in a chilling rain, wearing canvas shoes that did little to keep my feet dry (my boots broke last week). I clumsily fumbled through my elementary Spanish, but somehow managed to convey my message to my very-beginning-level English students who wanted to chat after class. And I opened my paycheck to acknowledge another passing month of working far more hours than reflected on the dotted line. All the power outlets were full at the crowded coffee shop where I edit between my classes, leaving me to beg (in that clumsy Spanish) to butt-in because my old laptop is without a working battery and only turns on when connected to the wall. The men lined up outside the liquor store near my corner hassled me, yet again, as I at last hurried home alone in the dark.

It would be easy, especially for me, to complain about today. But — I am happy.

I didn’t travel to an exotic land, embark on a storybook adventure, meet any new friends or dance the night away in a crazy club. I didn’t conquer any feat. I simply survived the day. A rather routine one, at best.

When I thought of living abroad, I perhaps naively imagined living in a fantasy world. The truth is, that’s often not the case … and that’s a fact I’ve struggled with while adjusting in the past months. So as I tried to figure out why I felt so happy on such a mundane day, it only took me a second to realize it was just that — routine.

I finally feel as though I fit in this foreign city, that is seeming less and less “foreign” every day. I have a place — while it may be an uncomfortable one at times — I recognize where I am supposed to be. I have two jobs that I enjoy, two places where I feel as if I am making a meaningful contribution to society. I have friends from many countries who were once strangers but are now regular company. Although I am far from calling myself a Spanish speaker, I have indeed made big strides in learning the language. I have a cozy apartment with dear roommates who allow me to feel “at home.” And I have learned that sometimes you can simply be happy with the mundane, routine days while waiting for the next adventure.

—JDF

*Note: I know I’ve been slacking on the blog posting as of late. I really have been working like crazy, and feel like I have no time to breathe (literally … I even caught bronchitis this week … and CAN’T breathe!). I promise to update with pictures of some recent adventurous days soon. <3