Got Hustle?
This post is indirectly about us moving to Seychelles, but not totally about that.
Can you hustle? That’s the name of the game. Looking back 5 years ago, it seems like yesterday that I started my journey to freedom. Having traveled before with the United States Navy, I was no stranger to foreign countries. And having traveled to most of the 50 states by plane, bus, car, and occasionally hitchhiking, I was used to moving around. When I was 6 years old, my father gave me a bike and encouraged me to take that bike everywhere. I was all over California on that bike, starting off with parks and elementary schools, then when I joined the bowling league, I rode to all of my tournaments. This was all at the age of 8. I remember traveling to Sacremento by bus on my own at age 7. My mom gave me a few bucks for eating, etc., and I made it back with change. Even in high school, I took trips to Las Vegas and Phoenix and started spreading my wings. So on this particular embarkment, I was confident. It started in Portland, Oregon, where I went to college. I picked up an old Jeep Cherokee I had stored there that I thought would be a trusty vehicle for the trip, drove back to L.A., sold everything that I couldn’t take, and packed up everything else. It all fit into 4 large suitcases. I then scooted over to Phoenix and picked up an old CPU that I had loaned to a friend which I thought would come in handy, and started on my jouney towards San Diego, California. When I crossed over the border to Tijuana, Mexico, it seemed like a whole different world. Bad water, prostitutes everywhere, a terrible sewage system, and poverty. I choked. I held up in a small hotel called the Hotel Ceasar on Blvd de Revolucion., eating 25 cent tacos that tasted like the best meal I’d ever had. All this time, I thought I was eating real tacos in L.A….right. The hotel cost me 15 bucks a night. It took me 30 days to get up enough nuts to continue my journey. Not speaking one word of Spanish, I spoke with the locals and asked them about the route, picked up a map, and started my way to Belize. A 4,000 mile trip through Mexico that I will never forget. I experienced everything from a flat tire to a busted radiator, and ultimately, falling off a cliff in San Cristobal. I had to be pulled out by the military in a Humvee. Through all of this, I handled it. Driving at night wasn’t recommended but I did it anyway, eager to see more. I stopped to eat at all the street vendors’ stands, enjoying coconut candy, sliced vegetables in a plastic cup sprinkled with chili powder, burritos, tostadas, and also seeing some of the best beaches Mexico has to offer.
I made it to Belize and stayed for about 3 weeks. I didn’t like it. Everybody was poor and there was no room for hustle. I didn’t see any way to make money. But then again, I was green. So I left there and drove 4 hours east to Cancun. Ah, man, the Mexican Caribbean. A beautiful place to stay, cheap food, cheap booze, and a whole lot of white, sandy beaches. I made it there with everything I had taken, car intact, and a whole $600. Luckily, I quickly found a hotel room on Yaxchilan, for $10 a night, on the 3rd floor, with no elevator, no AC, nothing but a ceiling fan, but a nice balcony to watch the street below. I will never forget carrying my 27″ TV up the stairs. The very first day, I unpacked the Jeep, took everything upstairs, and headed straight to the beach. There was no way I was going to be on the Caribbean and not get in the water.
But then I thought, “Now, what do I do?” I didn’t speak the language, I didn’t know the customs, and all I had was $500 left. What will I do with myself? Hustle, baby, hustle. It doesn’t change. Mexico, Panama, Belize, London, Paris, wherever you are, hustle never fails.
While I was on the beach, I saw another black guy. This was my first encounter with a non-American black guy. He was from Cuba. His name was Michel and he played saxophone for a local band. I told him I was fresh in the town, looking for work, and what my qualifications were. He put me onto a Jamaican cat, who owned a rum cafe in the Hotel Zone. He needed some website and promotional work and search engine optimization. My salary was $1000 a month, but I had a gig, my first day in Cancun, because I hustled.
In reading a blog from a person who lives in the Seychelles, I see that she gets paid to blog. Whether she knows it or not, that’s a hell of a hustle. I also saw that her husband manufactures booze…hootch…moonshine. It’s totally legal, and a good hustle. Which was the point of all this. If you have hustle, no matter where you go, you overcome and adapt. We all have a good hustle in one form or another. So whether you’re a web designer, graphic artist, writer, or the moonshine king, with today’s technology, the internet makes your business global.
For example, if you’re a film editor, post your website, make a few contacts, hang around some message boards, and I guarantee you’ll snag a few clients. They can have a courier deliver the footage to you on a dvd, you can edit it, send it back, get paid through Paypal, and take the money out on your Paypal ATM card or have it transferred to your bank, and BIMM!! Instant hustle.
Take it, use it, and live it.
Keep it Locked!!
…Obolo
