Base Camp 2 — We’re Still Here
Moving to our new Base Camp 2, Balhm-Na (we are still confirming the spelling with the owner), has been one of the most challenging experiences of this year.
We knew this move would be difficult.
We didn't realize just how difficult.
It took us three months to find a large pickup truck, and another two weeks to move everything. And somehow, our timing could not have been worse.
The day we arrived, the electrical grid was undergoing maintenance.
For an entire week, we had almost no electricity.
The maintenance crews were cutting trees near the power lines, and more than once, the trees ended up taking the power lines down with them.
At first, we wondered if this was simply what life at the property was going to be like.
Then, when the electricity finally stabilized, we discovered the next problem:
There was no internet where we were living.
To send a simple text message, we had to walk seven minutes to an open bench where we could get a signal.
And by that point, our funds were running dangerously low.
For a while, we were literally living off coconuts.
The car needed gas.
The infrastructure we needed wasn't affordable.
The internet solution we had planned required electrical work that we couldn't yet afford.
The equipment was sitting in storage, but we couldn't safely connect it.
We had planned.
We had calculated.
We had anticipated problems.
And still, reality found a way to surprise us.
That was probably the biggest lesson of this experience:
Planning is only 10% of the journey.
The other 90% is what you do when reality doesn't follow the plan.
And this was the moment when we needed people.
So we reached out.
And people answered.
JP and Debra stepped forward when we really needed help.
Their support didn't simply help us pay for things.
It gave us breathing room.
It gave us time.
And, perhaps most importantly, it reminded us that we are not doing this alone.
Their generosity restored something inside us that was beginning to disappear:
faith in humanity.
Since then, things have slowly started turning around.
The electrical grid appears to be stable now, so that concern has largely been resolved.
We have purchased a discounted Starlink Mini, which should arrive at the beginning of October and finally give us reliable internet at the camp.
Until then, my "office" is a tent positioned as close as possible to the available router.
Rain and tropical storms are now part of my work environment.
But we're getting there.
We built a camp shower.
We built a toilet.
They're not luxurious.
They're not Instagram-perfect.
But they are ours.
And every day, we improve something a little more.
The car has gas.
We're eating more than coconuts.
The electricity is working.
And for the first time in a while, we can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Why are we doing this?
There are people who look at what we're doing and think we're crazy.
Sometimes, honestly, we wonder ourselves.
Why not just give up?
Why not return to the Matrix?
We tried to find a conventional place to live nearby. After all, it would have been much easier.
But the only place we could find was essentially a leaking shack with two windows—and it wasn't even in town.
We are foreigners here.
Building relationships takes time.
It took us more than a year just to establish trust and rapport with the people around us.
The owners we know have been incredibly supportive, but their resources and knowledge are limited too.
So we are building this step by step.
Not because it is easy.
Because we believe it is worth doing.
We believe there is another way to live.
A way that reconnects us with the land, with community, with self-reliance, and with one another.
Breaking away from the Matrix isn't a single dramatic decision.
It's thousands of small decisions to keep going when the easier choice would be to turn back.
And right now, we are still choosing to keep going.
Thank you.
To Mike, JP, Debra, and everyone who has supported us in ways both large and small:
Thank you.
You have become part of this story.
We could not have made it this far without the humanity, love, encouragement, and financial assistance that people have extended to us.
Every contribution has meant more than money.
It has meant:
"Keep going."
"You're not alone."
"We believe in what you're trying to build."
That is incredibly powerful when you're sitting in the middle of the jungle wondering how you're going to make it through the next week.
We are not at the destination yet.
We're still building.
Still learning.
Still struggling.
Still adapting.
But we're here.
And we're moving forward.
We have received abundance from others when we needed it most, and our intention is to one day return that abundance tenfold—by creating something that can support others the way we have been supported.
Thank you for walking this road with us.
We're still here.
And we're still building.
