What Three Months in Colombia Taught Me About Life

Three months ago, I decided to take what I thought would be a temporary detour to Colombia—a quick escape from the relentless hustle of the U.S. It was supposed to be a brief flirtation with a different kind of life.

Well, spoiler alert: I’m still here, and I’m not sure if I’m ever coming back.

—Wait, that’s not entirely true. Right now, I’m in France, visiting my family. But this break has given me the space to reflect on those first three months in Colombia.

So, let me back up a bit.. This isn’t just a love letter to Colombia (though it certainly deserves one).

It’s more like a field report from an unexpected experiment in life design—where the lab was Colombia, and the subject was me.

The End of Instant Gratification (Or, How I Learned to Stop Clicking and Start Living)

Let’s talk about Amazon. Or rather, let’s talk about life without Amazon.

Picture this: you’re in the U.S., and you suddenly realize you need a new gadget.

Or maybe it’s a book, or some random thing you don’t actually need but you’ve convinced yourself you do.

What do you do? You open your laptop, click a few buttons, and voilà—your new toy is on its way, arriving at your door faster than you can say, "Did I really need this?" Instant gratification at its finest.

But then I moved to Medellín, and guess what? Amazon isn’t a thing here. Not really.

Sure, you can still order stuff online, but it’s not the same. It’s not "click, click, and it’s here by tomorrow at 10 a.m." It’s more like "click, wait a week, and hope customs doesn’t eat it."

At first, this was…frustrating. I’m not going to lie—I missed the convenience, the immediacy.

But as the weeks went by, something strange happened..

Without the constant temptation to consume, I started to think—really think—about what I wanted before I bought it. And most of the time, I realized I didn’t really need it at all.

Turns out, when you’re not bombarded with next-day delivery options, you start to appreciate what you already have instead of craving the next shiny thing.

Then there’s this beautiful tradition here in Medellín: every Sunday, the main streets shut down.

Not for construction, not for some government parade, but for people.

Yep, the city actually closes the roads so people can walk, run, bike, and just exist without the noise and pollution of cars. It’s like the entire city collectively decided, “Hey, maybe we should prioritize well-being over convenience for a change.”

So there I was, walking down these car-free streets, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of peace that I didn’t even realize I’d been missing.

Oh, and then there’s the “Pico y Placa” rule—a quirky little regulation that restricts driving based on your license plate number to reduce traffic and pollution.

Naturally, I didn’t pay attention to this when I first arrived. I mean, who actually reads the signs, right?

So, of course, I got slapped with a ticket.

Suddenly, I couldn’t just hop in my car or bike whenever I felt like it.

• I had to plan.

  
  

• I had to slow down.

  
  

And that chaos I used to hate? It became a weirdly comforting reminder that maybe—just maybe—I didn’t need to be in such a hurry all the time.

So here’s my challenge to you: try a weekend without any online shopping or mindless driving.

Seriously. Don’t click your way out of boredom. Don’t drive just because you can.

See what happens when you actually have to slow down and think. Maybe you’ll find that a slower pace leads to more meaningful experiences. Or maybe you’ll go completely nuts and be back on Amazon by Monday morning.

Either way, it’s worth a shot.

What makes my brain hurt, but my heart feel good.

You know what they never tell you in those glossy travel brochures? Learning a new language as an adult is hard as hell.

Seriously, it’s like trying to solve a Rubik’s cube blindfolded while someone’s reading the instructions to you in Mandarin.

When I learned English, I was 7. In a couple of months immersed in the American school system, I was already fluent.

So for the last 13 years, I’ve been chilling in my cozy little English-speaking bubble in the U.S. Everything was easy, predictable—comfortable.

But then I moved to Colombia, and suddenly, everything changed. Here, Spanish isn’t just a language—it’s the language.

If you want to do more than just grunt and point at the menu, you’ve got to speak it.

And let me tell you, it’s not as simple as downloading Duolingo and hoping for the best.

Classic scenario I’m faced with daily: I’m standing in line at a café, rehearsing my order in my head for the 17th time, and when it’s finally my turn, I freeze..

My brain turns into mashed potatoes, and out comes a jumbled mess of words that might be Spanish, but could also be Klingon for all you know.

The barista stares at me with a mix of pity and confusion, and I just know I’ve butchered the hell out of the language. But I push through, because, well, I have to.

Every single day is like this. It’s frustrating, it’s embarrassing, and it’s exhausting.

But you know what? It’s also incredibly rewarding. Think of it as mental CrossFit—brutal, unforgiving, and yet, strangely addictive.

You might leave every session feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck, but deep down, you know it’s making you stronger.

And here’s the cool part: every time I manage to string together a coherent sentence in Spanish, it feels like I’ve just climbed Everest.

Those small victories? They’re everything.

And it turns out, there’s science to back up that feeling. Learning a new language as an adult actually rewires your brain. It:

• increases neural plasticity

  
  

• keeps your cognitive functions sharp

  
  

• can even stave off cognitive decline.

  
  

Basically, it’s like doing Sudoku on steroids, with a side of personal growth.

If you want to keep your brain sharp, challenge it. Whether it’s learning a new language, picking up a new skill, or stepping out of your comfort zone in some other way, just do it.

Yes, it’ll be uncomfortable. Yes, you’ll probably suck at it for a while.

But the rewards are worth every awkward moment.

Plus..you’ll finally understand what the guy at the coffee shop has been saying all along, and that’s a win in my book.

Downsizing and Finding Comfort in Simplicity.

Back in the U.S., I lived in a $2M house on the Fort Lauderdale Intercoastal. It was big, it was beautiful, and it was full of all the things I thought I needed to be happy. Spoiler: it wasn’t.

When I moved to Colombia, I started in the city center, where everything was bustling and alive. But over time, I found myself moving further and further out, to quieter, simpler places.

Now, I’m in a one-bedroom apartment in Itagüí, a suburb of Medellín, and you know what? I’m more comfortable than I’ve ever been.

It turns out that when you strip away all the excess, you’re left with the things that really matter.

My life is simpler, my possessions are fewer, and I’ve never felt more at peace.

There’s no space for unnecessary clutter, both physically and mentally.

And with less to distract me, I’m able to focus more on the things that truly bring me joy—like the people I meet, the experiences I have, and the simple pleasures of daily life.

Sometimes, less really is more. The more space you create in your life—by downsizing, decluttering, or simply saying no to things that don’t serve you—the more room you have for the things that actually matter.

Take a hard look at your life.

• What can you get rid of?

  
  

• What’s weighing you down?

  
  

Trust me, once you let go, you’ll wonder why you didn’t do it sooner.

A Detox or a Season?

So, you’re probably wondering: am I sticking around in Colombia forever?

Is this my new reality, or just a temporary break from the chaos of my old life?

Honestly? I don’t know.

And you know what? That’s okay.

Here’s what I do know: these past three months have shifted my perspective in ways I never saw coming.

Whether this is just a season or the start of something more permanent, I’m walking away like Craig David with something I didn’t have before. A new lens to see the world through.

I’m grateful for the lessons. For the simplicity. For the people of Colombia who welcomed me like I’ve lived here my whole life.

So, whether you’re on the brink of a big life change, or just feeling like you need a break from the same old routine—I hope my little experiment has given you something to chew on.

Maybe it’s time for your own detox.

Maybe it’s time for a season of simplicity.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s time to slow down and actually appreciate what’s already in front of you.

Life is full of seasons. Not all of them need to be permanent.

Final Thoughts

It’s not about ditching your life and fleeing to another country—though that’s always an option if things really go south.

The real shift? It happens when you stop lying to yourself and start embracing change right where you are.

You don’t need to be a minimalist monk or burn all your possessions to feel like you’ve got your life together. You just need to redefine what success means. Spoiler: It’s not about how much crap you can collect before you die (I’ve tried this. It doesn’t work).

And look, nobody’s got this whole “life” thing figured out. We’re all just stumbling through it, pretending we know what we’re doing.

So take a breath, slow down, and let’s make the most of this season—because, frankly, what else are we gonna do?

Until next time,

Ben

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