Monday, August 13, 2018

The Struggles of a Gypsy Life

It is June 30, 2018, and I am sitting in a tiny home on a rainy Saturday morning in Squamish, Canada. What is unique about today compared to years past is usually this time of year I am busy with rafting trips, especially on the weekends. Today I am not working because things did not go quite as planned. The plan to spend another summer in British Colombia is not working out as intended because my work visa has yet to come through.

The free time may sound like an awesome treat, especially in a place like Squamish that is full of great outdoor recreation. But my life does not seem quite like a vacation, because with each day going by without a work visa I find myself spending more of my savings. Right now as I write this, my dream house is being built in Puerto Escondido, Mexico and each month I have to make a bank transfer to pay for the house. With money going out and nothing coming in I start to worry.

I used to never worry too much about money and lived a pretty carefree life. Ever since I attended guide school on the Kern River just over 10 years ago I have lived a pretty fabulous life. Money for travel and living has been made mostly with rafting work and also other seasonal jobs here and there to pay the bills and to fund the next adventure. While life has seemed like a constant adventure these past 10 years, there truly are some struggles to living this Gypsy lifestyle. I decided with the encouragement of a good friend, to write about my Struggles of living a gypsy life.  

Why is the life of a gypsy so great? Well for many of my friends around the world, we would need quite a few beers to tell others about all the amazing adventures and tales we have lived. What we won’t always bring up around the campfire or over a great meal shared are the struggles we have endured trying to live this lifestyle. I felt like right now is a good time to reflect back on the things I have struggled with these past years living the seasonal lifestyle.

Where to start with all of this? Well to start off as a gypsy or seasonal worker you need some sort of income. How can I work a few months, take a few months to travel, and continue to repeat this lifestyle? For me personally, I fell in love with the river around 10 years ago and choose this route for seasonal work. What started out as a summer job after university has led me around the world in search of adventure and also work along the way. I used to be able to work a North American rafting season for about 4 months and with the money saved I could purchase a plane ticket to my next destination and also have some spending money. Once I choose a place I would also try to spend another season rafting or kayaking to help fund my lifestyle. Seasons started to look like, California for the summer, fall/winter in the southern hemisphere, some surf and kayaking in-between, basically the endless summer on the water.

The seasonal raft guide/kayak work is a great way to travel the world and meet amazing people. But this is a hard way to live if you want to save any significant amount of money. So like most raft guides we slowly start to find other ways to make money so we can continually support our gypsy lifestyle. For myself, I have found a few different jobs these past few years to supplement my rafting income and to try and save more money so I can build a house in Mexico. While a raft guide can make a decent amount of money in a Californian summer, by American standards we are still living in poverty.

My endless summer came to a change when I got hurt a few years back. My usual return to Africa a f came to a halt because I knocked out my front teeth kayaking in Canada and ended up with some stitches in my mouth and face. The money I had saved up to travel with ended up being spent on medical and dental bills during the Fall instead of traveling and working in Zambia.  That year I returned to San Diego and came back to work for the family business. Since that year I have yet to return to my endless summer routine. While I have still had some awesome adventures in the past few years, I have still dedicated more time to work.

Getting older in life I feel that I slowly need to make a bit more money for my future. While still not wanting to completely settle down in one spot, this seasonal life has required a bit of imagination to find work. I have come back to cleaning carpet and doing flood restoration work for the family business a few times in the past few years. I have found myself working on a medical marijuana farm in northern California during harvest season. The most recent work I have landed these past few winters is making fake snow in Mexico for the Christmas holidays. While rafting is still probably the most enjoyable work I do, I still have to find other means of work to pay the bills and to maintain this gypsy lifestyle.

It can be hard when an unexpected change comes during a planned work season. I guess this is life, it does not always go as planned. Whether it be a big cost like medical bills, having to buy a new car or having a work season cut short due to no visa, seasonal work is hard to depend on. Often in the seasonal work world, the best you can do is take the work whenever it is available.

The next topic that seems to be a struggle the older I get is,  where am I going to live? Not what country am I going to raft in, or what river, but where am I going to call home for the summer? The first summer I started to raft guide, the company provided a guide house. A guide house is always a summer filled with fun. Beers, parties, new friends, sleeping on couches and floors. It was the college experience I never had while living with my parents while going to school. While the guide house may be fun at times, it is not your ideal quiet place to live with a  girlfriend and a dog.

I have called many different places home. Most of the time these places are just for a few brief months during the year. Summers have been spent in guide houses with four of us posted up on bunk beds in each room. I have lived out of a tent, sometimes a big tent in Canada,  other times a small rain-soaked tent during the rainy season in Zambia. Like many true gypsies, the best home on the road is the good old van with a bed in the back. Then there are those seasons that line up just right and we find a nice house to rent out for the summer, or some friend with a real full-time job and beautiful home needs a house sitter. Then there are the times I get to stay in a nice hotel during seasonal work in Mexico. Which at first seem a bit luxurious for my sort of gypsy lifestyle, but in the end, the nice hotel room can be a bit lonely when you find yourself all alone Christmas morning in some random hotel in Guadalajara.

The constant change and struggle in seasonal housing have been a big influence on me wanting to own my very own home. The idea of living out of a tent or a van has its great moments. Also, housing situations seem to be harder to come by in towns like Squamish because it is hard to come by short-term rentals. Now I feel a bit more drawn to the idea of an actual house I can call home. All of this has led to the plan for the casa in Mexico.

In the seasonal life, there is one thing that will probably always be a struggle for those traveling for work, relationships. In my career as a raft guide, I have had the opportunity to meet some very amazing people. During the short period of about 3-4 months of a season, you have the chance to become really close with others. There is this time that you literally are surrounded by great people all the time. We share meals, go out for drinks, go play in the great outdoors together, fall in love, live together and make lifelong friendships in the short season we call summer.

One of the hardest parts of seasonal living is when all this ends. The season is over, another summer came and gone and then I find myself alone again. It was easier when I would leave the Californian summer season and head over to Africa or to South America. I had a group of friends and was excited to see everyone. In the world of rafting, we are living in the persona of being someone great. We are a leader of a crew, we show others the beauty of this natural world, we feel like stars for most of the season. I have worked for companies that truly appreciate me and are happy to have me around. The change of the rafting work to other seasonal work has been hard.

I have gone from being surrounded by some amazing friends, found myself in love and have had to walk away from all those amazing people as a season comes to an end. A community is a very important part of living a healthy and happy life. The choice of wanting to continue to do seasonal work has led to times where I find myself without a good community. I try my best to just push through the work seasons that I don't enjoy and tell myself that within a few months I will be reunited with friends, family, and loved ones. I tell myself that the lonely times will all be worth it because I am working towards future goals and dreams. 

One of my hardest days this past year was on Christmas. I found myself feeling down and questioning if this snow job is all worth it. To try and numb my pain of being alone I called my family. First was a conversation with my parents which is always nice, then I called my older brother. The phone call was light and easy until my brother passed the phone to one of his kids.

“Tio what did you get for Christmas?”

“(pause) umm, I got some clothes and chocolate.”

“Tio, what are you doing today?”

“(pause) umm, not working today, I am just going to chill.”

My eyes slowly started to water up, I tried my best to hide in my voice the pain. I lied to my nephew. I didn't get anything for Christmas and the only reason I was “chilling” was that I had nowhere to go for Christmas.

The struggle and pain of being alone are real. It is not always easy to make it through the hard times. From the outside, life may seem happy and fun. The photos on Facebook or Instagram may tell a story of the adventure of surf, travel and the river, but it doesn't always show the reality. As good as life has been to me, there are also the ugly days. My journal entry on Christmas eve reveals a bit of the pain,

“I look back on this journal, short thoughts about this time in Mexico. It all seems a bit down and gloomy. I am not sure what is the root cause of feeling depressed, but after reading over the few entries, it is apparent that I am feeling down. Why? Is it all worth it? I think I suffer from Depression. Damn this is scary to write because it now seems so real. I try and look at the reality of life and say to myself, ‘Look up, keep your head up, life is not that bad.’ The thing is that I know this is true yet my mind and heart are elsewhere. When does it become too much? No one truly knows me, like me. Is it this isolation, the loneliness that is slowly eating me away. When do I just say Fuck it!”

I reached out to an old friend and explained how I was truly feeling. He responded perfectly. “Andrew! People Do love you! Lots of people! I love you most of all! We really should hang out soon. I have this next summer off and still not sure what to do with it. So maybe I’ll be able to meet you on the rio!” I needed this encouragement so bad and it came at the perfect time.


The struggle and pain are real and sometimes it is easier just to hide it. I think this is why I am writing. The life of a Gypsy can be great and full of adventures. But as in any life or path we choose, sometimes the road is darker then it appears. As another summer is slowly coming to an end I find myself coming to that same transition period. Many options pop up into my mind about my future. The house being built in Mexico should be ready by September. The lonely snow job awaits this Fall, but my mind and heart are elsewhere. I can close my eyes and imagine myself guiding a boat of people down the mighty Zambezi river. Or I find myself back in San Diego for the winter with the talk of El Nino bringing big surf to the Pacific coast this winter, Christmas breakfast that is more than just a lonely mediocre hotel buffet, but a time with family and friends. Maybe I even head back to Japan with a beautiful lady, with days of yoga and snowboarding. The Gypsy life or seasonal life has its ups and downs. I miss the friends I have made over the years traveling, and I hope the good times will shine brighter in my mind on the lonely days to come.