On a Farm in Ecuador, She Confirmed Living Abroad Was the Right Choice

Esmeraldas is a jungle-lined coastal province in Ecuador shadowed by cautionary tales — its reputation for danger keeps some travelers away. Despite that, it was there that I received a well-timed reminder not to let ambitions stagnate.

Last month, I drove 11 hours to spend two weeks in a rural town on my friend’s mom’s land. I went partly out of curiosity about this beautiful coastal spot and partly because I was tired of routine and ready for a reset.

Shortly after I arrived, I stood inside the farmhouse and looked out at the scene around me. Banana leaves swayed lazily, and coffee trees stretched down the hill from the wooden house. Chickens peeped nearby as a neighbor rode past on horseback.

My friend’s mother, Carmen, now 59, grew up in this region and, after spending several decades abroad, returned to pursue her lifelong goal of running her own farm. Before coming back home to make that a reality, she had built a cleaning business in Australia.

Esmeraldas felt worlds away from Toronto, where I’d spent most of my 20s before leaving over seven years ago, when life there began to feel too fast-paced, predictable, and expensive.

Ignoring the stories to see for myself

These days, I live in Ecuador, where nearly everything I’d heard about Esmeraldas, both the province and the city, painted it as dangerous.

“It’s racism. It’s not like that at all,” my Ecuadorian-Australian friend told me one evening after a woman warned us not to go.

After living and working in both Ecuador and Colombia, and traveling widely across Latin America, I’ve heard plenty of opinions about plenty of places.

When the invite came to visit Carmen’s farm, I accepted. Two friends and I wound our way from Cuenca, where we live, down Ecuador’s spaghetti-like mountain roads and toward a hot-pink coastal sunrise, ready to enjoy rural life and hit pause on work.

A change of pace

On an overcast day, a few days in, Carmen led us through the property to hack at stubborn weeds while we gathered a small harvest: oranges, hot peppers, limes, and coconuts to quench our thirst. Just days earlier, she had asked me, “Sinead, are you todo terreno — an all-terrain person?”

“I think so?” I’d replied, confused.

I soon found out that in Esmeraldas, Carmen is all about two things: being todo terreno and wielding her machete. Both fit the landscape perfectly.

In her kitchen, she came even more alive. A breeze drifted in as she ground yucca to make palm-sized bread stuffed with cheese, pepper, onion, and garlic, a recipe she used to make with her grandmother. When I bit into the bread, fresh from the oven, it was perfect.

I was witnessing a decadeslong goal fulfilled through persistence and hard work.

Everything I experienced — from the bread to mornings with coffee, from admiring the hills to her impressive home-cooked lobster — was the result of years of effort. She had shaped her career with the aim of one day returning to Esmeraldas. She cleared the land, built her wooden dream house, and planted yucca, coffee, cacao, and a rainbow of fruits.

“I always knew I’d get here one day,” she told me as she effortlessly peeled the skin off an orange in one perfect spiral.

What, I wondered, is my version of a treehouse-like home?

For now, my plan is to stay in Latin America, capture the magic of places like Esmeraldas in my writing, and tend to my creativity the way Carmen tends to her land.

Two weeks later, I walked out of the jungle with clarity on my own path, knowing that the blank page shouldn’t be any more intimidating than Carmen’s once tree-covered patch of earth she transformed into home.

Do you have a story to share about moving abroad? Contact the editor at akarplus@businessinsider.com.