2024 was the first year that I lived as a nomad. I stayed in 23 different cities across 12 countries, spending an average of two weeks in each spot. The same suitcase accompanied me through scorching deserts, tropical jungles, and the sub-zero Arctic.

The flight attendant, dressed in a mock military uniform, made me uncomfortable. He reminded me of an old article about how Korean airlines were unusually accident prone. The theory goes that the culture’s rigid hierarchy made it difficult for superiors to accept information surfaced by their juniors - even when it made the difference between life and death as was the case with KAL801. Since then, they’ve addressed the issue by introducing a new “cockpit culture” that fosters more effective upward communication.

The cold, heavy machine lurched forward against its will. I coerced it through the gears while pots and pans rattled in the back. I smiled as the sun started to heat my numb hands. In front of me sprawled a picturesque landscape of rolling green hills and snow covered giants. My seat bounced to the rhythm of the Mongolian throat singing as I rolled down the unpaved road. I noticed an uneasy feeling in my stomach as the road turned and seemed to head straight toward a large glacier covered mountain. The verdict was still out as to whether or not it was a mistake trusting AI to plan the trip—at least each day was a surprise.

I’ve been living out of a suitcase for 5 months now, having to adapt to different climates and various accommodations. I’ve found it surprising how little “stuff” you actually need to be happy. I wanted to take a moment to share my packing list and philosophy. I’m also working a full-time job and prioritizing my health with daily workouts and cooking most meals “at home”. For nomading to be sustainable, I think investing the extra time into work and health each day is well worth it.

Finally, the weekend. I woke up and initiated my daily morning routine:

"We do not see things as they are, we see them as we are." - The Talmud

Something was wrong. I felt my eyelids getting heavy with a sudden fatigue that passed over me. It couldn’t be jet lag; it’s already been over a week since I landed. Perhaps it was something in my last meal? The train’s steady rattle seemed to echo my growing unease. Hoping it was only overexertion, I shrugged off the discomfort. As the train got closer to my station I began to feel the telltale body aches that precede a fever. Damn, it’s going to be a long night.

The testicle squished and separated softly like firm tofu as I bit into it. I dipped the remainder in a plate of salt and tried again - nope, still can’t get past the idea of it. I subtly tossed the remainder in the open trash bin while the others continued in conversation. Still, I think I prefer the testicle over the taste of the liver, or what Goku referred to as “nature’s multivitamin”.