Why Moving to the Worst City Was a

Inevitable Failure

Have you ever made such a bad decision and then realized it HAD TO HAPPEN?

Photo by Neuvalence on Unsplash

Well, I have. And it all started when I finished my degree.

[embed]Why I decided to leave home and move to the worst city at age 25 Most people my age at that time, I think, did the same thing I did, because there seemed to be no other alternative.medium.com

The Perfect Plan (Which Was Horrible)

It was 2013. I was 25 years old. My life was… boring. SUPER boring.

I lived in a “perfect” city… for grandparents. You know, the kind that appear on the “Best Places to Live” lists. Polite people who greet you on the street. Clean air without pollution. Low crime rates.

And there I was, a recent graduate, looking for a job and dying of boredom.

Scrolling through the internet, all the job postings led me to one place: Santiago, Chile.

The BIGGEST city and capital of the country, known for its “Horrible smog. Hellish heat in the summer. Flooding in the winter. High crime.”

My reaction? “PERFECT. I’m moving there.” My parents: “ARE YOU SURE?” Me: “Probably.”

The Arrival of Horror

I arrived in July. In JULY. In the middle of winter and the chaos of respiratory viruses.

My apartment: a 29-square-meter apartment on the 15th floor, with only one elevator and lines of people waiting to get there.

That first day, I left to take the subway to work. Five packed cars later, while I was still on the platform, trying to get on one, I wondered:

“Where the hell did I get myself into?”

At the end of the workday, the same hellish commute home. I decided to walk back, even though it would take me an hour — no kidding, an hour.

But then…

Two weeks passed. I started noticing strange things.

When a train arrived at the station, I was the first to get on. I’d learned the “EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF”-style techniques of the concrete jungle.

When I walked quickly on the street, no one pushed me anymore, because I stepped harder.

People asked ME for directions and bus stops because they mistook me for just another Santiaguina.

To give you an idea, a Santiaguina is a cross between a Gargoyle, a Dementor, a zombie, and an NPC. Can you imagine?

What the hell was going on?

The Revelation

It turns out that when you live in a “horrible” city, one of two things happens:

Either you cry every day when you get home because you can’t get used to it. Or you adapt.

I was clearly adapting. Without knowing the cost.

The Real Changes

In six months:

I learned to avoid muggings and robberies anywhere (for survival, you acquire a walk that intimidates others).

I stopped cooking and bought takeout because I didn’t have time to make lunches every day. This was terrible for my cholesterol and blood sugar levels.

In other words, I was becoming a true Santiago native, with all the good and bad that entailed.

The Transformation

After a year, my friends and family from the perfect city came to visit me.

“Do you like living here?” they asked. I didn’t know how to respond.

I wasn’t more relaxed. More anxious, yes. As if I’d run a race I never wanted to run.

“Don’t you miss Villa Alemana?” they asked.

I looked around. The smog, the cracked streets, the melting heat.

*“Not at all”… I lied.*

[embed]Writing about my failures In a world obsessed with achievements and happy endings, talking about failures seems almost taboo.medium.com

The Moral (That Nobody Asked For)

Sometimes the worst decision is the one you need.

You can learn from other people’s mistakes, but sometimes you only learn by making mistakes.

When I moved to Santiago, I knew the change was going to be difficult. But I didn’t know what it would transform me into.

When I’d decided I’d had enough and had to get out as soon as possible, before I’d completely transformed into a thuggish, ill-mannered gargoyle, I felt my stone shell crack a little.

I still had time to avoid the kiss of death.

I’ve now been in my hometown for 9 years.

Will I stay forever? I don’t know.

Do I regret anything? No.

Because it turns out the worst place in the world can be exactly what you need to prove yourself. And grow.

Especially if you wanted an adventure.

I’m ready for the next one.

Now I’ll have the boring option, please!

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