A routine + adventures every week is an ideal life balance.

A routine has certainly emerged. I get my “usual” at Al Natur, a socially driven café and shop conveniently located on the corner of my block, which also happens to be one of Alterna’s social business clients. Mario, the owner, greets me warmly and we chat while he fills my thermos with raw hot chocolate and a large pinch of chili.

In the mornings I walk straight down the narrow main street, crossing from one side of the street to the other to avoid parked cars and moving ones. Passing Parque Bolivar, I look for the scruffy white and brown street dog my co-workers and I have named Albert – as if he is the (lazy) guardian of the corner, we find him faithfully curled up on the sidewalk, one shrewd eye opening as we pass. The Alterna office is located just a little further down. Across the street from the entrance is a dark green car that is just as faithful as Albert, only because its tires have been flat since I got here in January. At work, I sit with my laptop in the courtyard, shifting my plastic chair every so often to find the best patch of warm sun, but close enough to the shade so that I can scoot back when I start cooking.

I am fully occupied at work; not only by trying to keep up with client meetings and writing documents in Spanish, but also developing and implementing communication strategies for Alterna, as well as one of its larger social enterprise clients – a fair trade, organic coffee cooperative of over 300 indigenous farmers that prioritizes community empowerment and sells both locally and internationally in their own cafes and through wholesalers. M and I make a good team – after long, detailed meetings wading through and converting qualitative research into action-steps we sit back with a sigh and high five.

I take individual Spanish classes with Magda, my personal cheerleader a few times a week. Either at the office or in the front room of Mama Cony’s house, I chat with her about everything from weekend trips and my observations of life here to challenges in Sri Lanka. In between, she lists conjugations and vocabulary down in blue on blank sheets of paper.

Except for Thursdays (when we have a team potluck lunch on the rooftop) we usually always go to Café Red. Even on cloudy days in Xela, Café Red’s courtyard with vibrant murals and hanging bougainvillea remains sunlit. For 25Q ($3) the friendly waiters bring us fresh juice, soup, and a choice between 2 of the daily meals, accompanied by warm tortillas. My new favorite is one of Friday’s options: the teriyaki beefy patty with veggies. We’ll often stay to work there after lunch, using the faster internet as an excuse. (It’s true.)

I aim to go to yoga every Tuesday and Thursday evening. Sitting on one of the available mats in the at-first cold room, I listen to the very lean “Chubby” transitioning us from our hectic thoughts into the flow of breathing. “Have fun. After all, it’s just you and your body,” he always says in Spanish with a smile. As we exercise, the room warms and later I leave feeling worn and satisfied.

When we’re not trying (or returning) to restaurants, having potluck dinners with friends, or attending Xela festivities (like the free jazz concert series), we make frijoles or pasta at home and watch Netflix. I usually skip salsa night at the club on Wednesdays to apply to jobs, Skype, get lost in novels, and perhaps avoid drooling too publicly over the amazing dancers. On Fridays, all of Xela winds up at Pool & Beer to play foosball (and of course pool), drink, and dance. These routines are continuously and wonderfully interrupted with new discoveries and journeys.

I have found a balance between the new and normal. It is something that regardless of where I am after this, I will continue to strive for.