
I deactivated my Instagram account circa 2019. I remember at the time being concerned about my mind and behavior getting shaped by the platform, as the line between real life and social media started to blur.

+++

I deactivated my Instagram account circa 2019. I remember at the time being concerned about my mind and behavior getting shaped by the platform, as the line between real life and social media started to blur.

Recently, though, some childhood memory urged me to reach someone that I couldn’t find elsewhere, and as a reflex, I installed the app and reactivated my account. Being back for a few moments made me realize I took a significant turn, socially, when I quit.

When logging in, I immediately felt this sensation that “things are happening here on Instagram”, and it felt very real and natural. It was like I’ve been isolated in an island for a long time and then dropped into a big party where I know almost everyone. Those people have been partying nonstop for years.

It’s funny to think that things are happening _there_, and not _here_. Presence might be a scarce asset, and that might explain the lack of it in some places in real life.

I was very careful not to scroll through anything and get sucked in, but I got a glimpse of a couple faces in the stories row and the messages list. I was confused. The faces looked familiar but I couldn’t remember who they were. That made me extremely curious so I visited their profiles, and eventually remembered who they were: acquaintances that I met somewhere in life who simply are not part of my life anymore. Seems like our brains naturally erase things that don’t matter, but the platform will keep them forever in your digital mind.

I reached my childhood memory person, and she promptly responded. It felt so easy and effortless, considering that I studied with her in primary school and don’t see or talk to her for more than 20 years.

My mind was all fired up and it felt like I smoked crack. I had my little interaction and then deactivated my account again. I found myself shocked with the brief revisit to that place. I then came up with this Red Pill (from The Matrix) analogy. For those not familiar:

> The **red pill** and **blue pill** represent a choice between the willingness to learn a potentially unsettling or life-changing truth by taking the red pill or remaining in the contented experience of ordinary reality with the blue pill

[Red pill and blue pill](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_pill_and_blue_pill)

Real (social) life can often be hard, ugly, lonely, slow, empty or boring. But quite rewarding if you put the effort.

Instagram is incredibly appealing. It allows quick and effortless connection in a controlled and safe, comfortable and stimulating environment. In fact, I felt good seeing those familiar faces, and some part of me wanted to be active on the platform again, as it definitely enables social connection. But I feel like _it is all an illusion_, and it has a toll on your mental health.

I have used other forms of social media, like Strava, and have consumed content in platforms like YouTube. But Instagram incorporated too much of the social engagements, at least for my generation and circles, and it seems like the human minds adapted very well to it to the point of changing how people see the world, their interactions and experiences, thus effectively transforming our reality.


The Social Red Pill


A poem

+++

Decaffeinated coffee

Electronic cigarette
<br/>
Non-alcoholic beer
<br/>
Gluten-free bread

Virtual reality
<br/>
Electric car
<br/>
Acrylic nail

Indoor bike
<br/>
Vegan meat

Dating app


Artificial intelligence


Until not so long time ago, if you were a kid who wanted to move yourself on wheels, the most obvious and sometimes only choice was the bicycle

+++

Until not so long time ago, if you were a kid who wanted to move yourself on wheels, the most obvious and sometimes only choice was the bicycle, this beautiful human-propelled vehicle that can take many sizes and forms and ride through almost any terrain. Some would never ride a bike again when they grow up, but many will use it as a medium of transportation, some as a way to exercise, to explore the outdoors, and even the world. Maybe even become a professional athlete.

I’ve been noticing the electric scooter taking the place of the bicycle. This device will take you places at considerable speeds with the push of a button while you stand up on a floorboard. It has one of the most stupid form factors among vehicles, being less rigid than other two-wheeled vehicles and having terrible handling and turning angle.

Despite it can be fun and practical—I’ve ridden and had fun with it a few times—it is more like a toy that moves. It won’t take you longer distances, the small wheels struggle even within the city, the body is not very extensible and it lacks balance and stability for more intense applications.

I cannot deny that, in the bigger picture, there’s a lot of overlap between electric scooters and bicycles, especially on the subject of urban mobility. It’s still debatable though whether they are sustainable and reliable in the long term, due to their reliance on lithium batteries and possibly worse maintainability due to lack of a mature ecosystem for parts and service.

One thing in particular that got me slightly concerned is that some kids could skip the bike completely for the electric scooter. If anything, they will grow up to become inactive adults who drive a car, or even worse, a motor scooter, which is the most ridiculous kind of two-wheeled motor vehicle.

As a grown-up who was introduced to a bike when younger, and had it unfold into this ever-fascinating thing that provided me with such rich and unique experiences, I feel somehow sorry when I see young folks standing up on a flat platform moving around with the push of a button.


The vehicle equivalent of the smartphone


I quit WhatsApp while living in a country where it is installed in 99% of smartphones and is the go-to tool for communication.

+++

I decided to quit WhatsApp while living in a country where it is installed in 99% of smartphones and is the go-to tool for communication.

WhatsApp is actually a great app: simple, fast, reliable. I just couldn't stand the hyper-connectedness aspect of it. Anyone could reach me through my phone number, including salespeople from services I signed up, who then messaged me trying to push sales. Or that random person who suddenly decided to create a website for his company approached you at nighttime to talk about work. Or that person you recently met that thought it was okay to put you in some group chat.

Recently, when looking at my bank app — known for providing excellent user experience and for revolutionizing banking in Brazil — I noticed a huge, not dismissible card that takes half of my screen, trying to push me into an integration with WhatsApp. No, thanks. I don't want to rely on a single app to do everything, and that's another reason I quit it: they are trying to build the world around it.

Hell, texting is not even good for having proper conversations, let alone doing things like appointing a haircut or sending money. My barber maintains a website where you can schedule a haircut, and I love him for that. You don't need a phone number, or to run a specific OS, or give your information to some company, in order to use it. Everyone in the world with any kind of device could appoint a haircut. The beauty of the internet is being an open, free platform. It's okay to have fenced services like Instagram — where you can't even navigate without an account — but please, don't try to do everything out of it.

![WhatsApp depicted on a billboard {4341x2893}](./whatsapp-billboard.jpg)

Imagine having to use WhatsApp to work. This is actually a sad recent phenomenon: institutions making employees communicate via WhatsApp. This is downright abuse of people's sanity, and I feel sorry for them. This may not be so bad if you use a dedicated mobile phone for work, but few people do. I've recently met a nurse who, after a full workday, has to spend the night answering her boss' questions on WhatsApp.

I've been phone calling people more often and favoring more real experiences. So, instead of trying to reach my neighbor and inviting him to have a beer in the local bar, I just go to the bar, most times to meet him there spontaneously. When I need something delivered from a business that uses WhatsApp instead of a proper delivery app, I just call them, it just works and I still get to listen to the other human being's voice on the other side of the line.

I've since moved to Telegram, which is still a chat app but the attitude around it is different, and the app has features to preserve your mental well-being. It's unusual for people to suddenly approach you there. You can archive chats that you don't want to keep looking at or create separate chat groups. So, if you're forced to join a group for study or work reasons, you can at least put those conversations on a different shelf than, let's say, family contacts.

Sometimes when I mention that I'm not on WhatsApp, people have reacted saying that they wished they could do the same. The thing is: **you will find ways to communicate with people that matter to you**. We've been doing it for ages before mobile messaging came in. The only reason WhatsApp became so big is that people just conform, and the only way to stop it is to resist.


On quitting WhatsApp


I came across something like nothing I've seen or heard before, but it was still house and techno, thus familiar. Most of it is minimalist: Microhouse and Minimal Techno. Both genres are not exclusive from Romania, but the country surely has its own flavor: the so-called Rominimal.

+++

A few years ago, I was discussing electronic music with a close friend after a festival experience we had together in Brazil. At that time, we were starting to dig deeper into it, searching for different and more sensible stuff. He then sent me an article from House Mag—an electronic music publication—entitled [Sunwaves and the Romanian sound](http://www.housemag.com.br/www/noticia/3936-review-sunwaves-e-o-som-da-romenia.html).

The article described something like nothing I've seen or heard before, but it was still house and techno, thus familiar. Most of it is minimalist: Microhouse and Minimal Techno:

> [Minimal Techno] is characterized by a stripped-down aesthetics that exploits the use of repetition and understated development.

[Minimal Techno (Wikipedia)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minimal_techno)

> A noticeable difference between microhouse and house is the replacement of typical house kick drums, hi-hats and other drum machine samples with clicks, static, glitches, and small bits of noise [...] One characteristic feature of microhouse is the use of sampling: extremely short ('micro') samples of the human voice, musical instruments, everyday noises, and computer-created wave patterns are arranged to form complex melodies (such as can be heard in Akufen's "Deck the House"). Vocals in microhouse are often simplistic, nonsensical, and monotone in nature [...]

[Microhouse (Wikipedia)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microhouse)

Both genres are not exclusive from Romania, but the country surely has its own flavor: the so-called Rominimal:

> One way to describe it would be minimal techno that has been handled with some very soft, velvety hands. It is simple, yet complicated in its simplicity. This sound opens new channels of consciousness for those who listen. The music is subtle and ethereal, laced with fragile effects over raw sound-drums and minimalist baseline. [...] It’s not about big drops, but it’s more about upholding and continuing the journey.

[The ro-minimal story](https://www.assonantcircles.com/post/the-ro-minimal-story)

I fell in love with the style and started exploring it further through SoundCloud sets and YouTube videos from the festivals happening in Romania. At some point, I knew that I should go there and check all of this in person.

In August 2019, after 3 months in western Europe, I went straight to Romania, led by two festivals that felt more iconic: Sunwaves and Mioritmic. I decided not only to attend those events but also spend 3 months in the country—the first month in București and two in Cluj-Napoca. I assumed that if I connect to the music I might just as well enjoy the place and the people.

# Sunwaves Festival

![{4608x3456}](./05.jpg)

The festival happens in Constanţa, the oldest town in Romania and the go-to beach destination in the country. I arrive there after a 2-hour trip from București. The hostel I booked was very simple and had a funny, yet cute sailor, marine theme. Some young travelers play truth or dare in the yard, probably because the town itself, apart from the beaches, is kinda dull.

In the same night, I head to the northern part of the town—Mamaia, where the most beautiful beaches and high-end hotels are located. And also where the festival happens. Despite being the most valued area, it doesn't feel fancy at all, or maybe it does, but in a silly way.

The festival has 4 stages, which in my interpretation boiled down to each one being focused on minimal techno; microhouse; tech-house and mixed, more mainstream house/techno. They all face the Black Sea and are surrounded by sand, which was inevitably spread through the dancefloors. Slightly different sound setups, but all rocking Funktion One systems. You could see a big building under construction with cranes behind the stages, adding a slightly urban feel to the atmosphere.

![{4608x3456}](./01.jpg)

![{4608x3456}](./02.jpg)

I love how the festival scenography is just on point and harmonic with the whole concept, including the music. Modest, colorful tents with wood/metal structures. It feels very cozy and welcoming. Most of the decoration is made of wood, plants, and cloth. Most stages have a bunch of flowers lined in front of it.

![{4608x3456}](./03.jpg)

![{4608x3456}](./04.jpg)

The music was just perfect, I can say that it was the best music experience I ever had. It was the perfect expression of minimal electronic music, powered by good sound engineering, a cozy atmosphere, nice people and beautiful scenery.

<iframe width="100%" height="300" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" allow="autoplay" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/687690112&color=%23ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true"></iframe>

At some point, I realized that once my feet got sore from dancing and walking around, I could just get my shoes off and get some cold seawater treatment, which got them ready for several more hours of fun. I could also enjoy the music and dance in the water, which felt liberating. But eventually you have to go out and get some rest, so I never got to spend more than 12 hours each day. I spent the first 2 days during the night until early morning, but then I realized that the magic happens during the daytime. You can see the sea and feel the warmth of the sun, and it has just the right amount of people, so you can walk and dance freely without bumping people around, but there are still enough people to maintain the energy.

In the last night, I had to force myself out of the festival because after 5 days it was still not enough, and the music was still banging. I had a train back to real life the next morning. I started walking in circles.

![{4608x3456}](./06.jpg)

—Ok, time to go. _(walks toward exit)_

—Wait, just 15 minutes more." _(goes back to the stage)_

# Mioritmic Festival

![{4608x3456}](./08.jpg)

After 1 month in București, I head to Cluj-Napoca, a lovely university city in Transylvania. It was a great move from the grey and brutalist București. Fewer cars and noise and more trees and parks. The festival happens near the Hoia forest, which is said to be the most haunted in the world. Vampires and a haunted forest. Cool, right?

Mioritmic is organized by the same people as Sunwaves, so most of the concept is similar: tents, decoration, and sound. But it felt more intimate. Even though it lasts several days, unfortunately it has some daybreaks in the first days, which was a total bummer. I got a day off work on Friday just to realize it would open just at 10 PM. Same on Saturday. That meant getting ready, catch an Uber or tram just to get to the entrance and realize it was closed. There were not many people attending it during those days anyway, so I get why they did breaks, but this was not specified at all in the timetables, which felt kinda disrespectful. In the first days, I was also kinda down. Being alone for a month in the city was not being easy.

![{4608x3456}](./09.jpg)

My experience was that the festival was slowly unfolding itself as the days passed. The peak was obviously between Saturday and Sunday, and most of the action happened during the nighttime.

There were just 3 stages and not many mainstream-ish acts. The tents are interconnected, with narrow smoking areas in between. There is a larger open air space with food and some chillout areas with heaters. While simple, all of this gives some unique vibe to it.

![{4608x3456}](./07.jpg)

The music was great through the whole thing, but in the last day, nearing the end, I was feeling like it was just more of the typical Rominimal that I had listened in the last 2 months in other events, I was almost calling it a day and going home. Then, after sunset, the music evolved to something really special, with a slightly faster tempo and a deep, dark, and acid substance that is not usually present in the style. It was like a gift for staying for that long. I was so glad that I was listening to something that I never heard before. I felt like I was experiencing the very moment where a music style evolves in an experimental way, like the artist was showcasing a nice concept that he thought of, which was slightly challenging to the style itself, but at the same time maintaining its essence.

# Untold & Electric Castle

Untold and Electric Castle are the most popular festivals from what I heard. Every time I mentioned I was in Romania to attend festivals, people thought I was going to Untold. In București and Cluj-Napoca there are huge billboards for it in the streets.

In fact, in Cluj-Napoca, the place where Untold happens, you can see city infrastructure branded by the festival. I'm not sure whether it's just branding or if the festival actually provided the infrastructure. Either way, it was nice to see that, it gives the impression that the festival is well received by the people and local authorities, and that it may also give back support to the city.

They are more mundane festivals, with huge, outstanding stages, featuring more global artists and diverse kinds of music. Untold has a pretty unique concept though that I never saw before: each stage is located in separate venues. So while being a big festival, I suppose each stage can feel intimate and being able to explore different areas on each day must be fun.

# Romania, post-communism, Rominimal & underrepresentation

After spending this time living in Romania, I started to correlate the country's unique way of expressing itself through music with its historic, politic context and everyday life.

> Sometimes referred to as 'Europe's great survivor', this melting pot of Romanians, Hungarians, Germans and Roma has been constantly invaded and occupied throughout its existence.

[Romania history (Lonely Planet)](https://www.lonelyplanet.com/romania/background/history/a/nar/2684279e-b5ef-4af2-8c5c-a60ac92c9d6c/360382)

Romania, as we know, is just 100 years old. It is a country that struggled to conquer sovereignty and respect. It just joined the European Union in 2007, and it is still facing barriers to get into the Schengen free-travel zone.

> Romania and Bulgaria were judged by the European Commission to have met all necessary technical conditions for full Schengen membership as far back as 2011. No other countries considered to have met the criteria have been kept out.

[_Romania Pushes to Be Treated as a Fully Fledged E.U. Member_](https://www.nytimes.com/2019/09/21/world/europe/romania-eu-schengen-zone.html)

It is also important to consider that the country went through around 40 years of communism, an era that certainly suppressed people's expression and identity. After the end of communism in the 90s, I wonder if the country is still finding a way of recovering and rebuilding its identity. I believe Rominimal could be part of that.

It's interesting how the mainstream culture in Romania is kinda exaggerated and over the top, or kitsch, if you wish—flowers everywhere, colorful bathrooms and overly-ornamented items. On the other hand, the underground—Rominimal—can be quite the opposite, while still sometimes maintaining some of the colorfulness—in a minimalist way, of course.

For me, it became natural to associate minimal music with a modest, humble, rising and sometimes suppressed country.

Some people criticize the style, though. I met a Romanian girl who said that she can't stand the style anymore and prefers to go to Berlin or Ibiza to party instead.

> That’s been big in Romania for ten years or so, and it never dies. It doesn’t evolve, either; it’s somehow stuck in its own bubble. [...] I can’t explain how, in the city with the fastest internet in Europe, 18- to 20-year-old kids are stuck in only one genre and listening to the same loop for 12 hours. For me, it’s not a very interesting scene

[After The Fire: How The Colectiv Tragedy Changed Bucharest](https://www.electronicbeats.net/after-the-fire-how-the-colectiv-tragedy-changed-bucharest/)

What if it is "stuck in its own bubble" because that's just enough for them? I think that's the whole point of minimalism. I also believe that the style got enough attention to get consolidated and associated with the country, which must feel positive culturally.

Judgments aside, people enjoy it, and it's certainly alive.


Rominimal is not dead


I found myself building a few applications and features which relied on real-time. That means having stuff being updated in real-time on the screen as time passes. After iterating the code, I came up with a handy React hook

+++

[**TL;DR show me the code**](#the-hook)

In the last few months, I found myself building a few applications and features inside existing projects which relied on real-time. That means having stuff being updated in real-time on the screen as time passes. After iterating the code, I came up with a handy React hook that can be used like this:

```javascript
import React from 'react';
import useRealTime from './hooks/useRealTime';

const RealTimeComponent = () => {
  const now = useRealTime();
  return <div>The current time is {now.toISOString()}</div>;
};

export default RealTimeComponent;
```

![Demo](./demo.gif)

# How it works

Our function uses two existing hooks:

## 1. `useState`

This will store the current value and provide an updater function for it. Every time there is an update it will trigger a re-render.

## 2. `useEffect`

This will create an [interval](https://developer.mozilla.org/en-US/docs/Web/API/WindowOrWorkerGlobalScope/setInterval), which will repeatedly call our time updater function with an up to date value with a fixed time delay between each call.

The interval is created just once when the component mounts — notice the empty array `[]` of dependencies at the end (you can also omit the `[]` if you want). The interval is also cleared when the component unmounts.

Also notice that the main `useRealTime` function accepts an `interval` parameter, which is the amount of time in milliseconds between each update and is set to `100` as default. You could use it like this:

```js
const now = useRealTime(200);
```

---

In the end, we just return the current `now` value.

# The hook

```js
import { useState, useEffect } from 'react';

const useRealTime = (interval = 100) => {
  // 💾
  const [now, setNow] = useState(new Date());
  // ⏱️
  useEffect(() => {
    const realtimer = setInterval(() => {
      setNow(new Date());
    }, interval);
    return () => {
      clearInterval(realtimer);
    };
  }, []);
  // 📨
  return now;
};

export default useRealTime;
```


useRealTime: a React hook for dealing with real-time applications


Since I arrived in Romania, I've met at least 3 people that recommended visiting this place once I got to Cluj-Napoca.

+++

Since I arrived in Romania, I've met at least 3 people that recommended visiting this place once I got to Cluj-Napoca. After moving there and establishing myself, not too long after I found myself checking the route between my house and the lake and looking up street view shots along the way to get a grasp of what the route looks like. It was the perfect candidate for that longer Sunday ride: ~65km.

![Planned route on Strava {1331x881}](./0.png)_Planned route on Strava_

More than half of it is inside the city and its surroundings. Busy streets, lots of cars, few and narrow bike lanes and a brief stretch of a highway-ish road, which at some point merges with a cute village with over-the-street triangle-shaped flags with the Romanian flag colors.

After a left turn, the lake starts to manifest itself. Narrow, pleasant roads, not so many cars and small streams showing the first hints of water. As I keep going, I get more and more surrounded by nature. Lots of trees, fresh air and unobtrusive housing into the landscape. At some point, a bridge comes by and I'm presented to the lake itself.

![Lake Tarnița — Cluj-Napoca, Romania {4608x3456}](./1.jpeg)

Amazed by the beauty and with the endorphine rush for riding ~25km at this point, I feel the urge to yell **YES!** and take a moment to enjoy the sight and take the picture above. Along most of the way, the lake is not so visible from the road for being surrounded by vegetation. The clearer sights are on the bridges like this one that crosses the rivers 3 or 4 times.

The road keeps going, getting steeper, colder and in worse condition. The asphalt just goes away for a ~3km stretch. The hills pay off when I get to a dam, which breaks the lake into two levels and provides a nice top view of the area.

![Lake Tarnița — Cluj-Napoca, Romania {4608x3456}](./2.jpg)

![Lake Tarnița — Cluj-Napoca, Romania {4608x3456}](./2-1.jpg)

The asphalt is back again, and I'm even more surrounded by trees. I feel grateful for being able to ride there. The curves/hills ratio starts to get perfect, I'm having fun and want to go further, but I'm already at the planned 1/2 of ~65km mark and it's time to go back home. Gotta save the energy. I stop by for a brief contemplative moment and a snack. The banana tasted wonderfully and the view was also nice despite being blocked by the trees.

![Lake Tarnița — Cluj-Napoca, Romania {4608x3456}](./4.jpg)

The way back got me off the lake area quicker than I expected and wished. The descents were nice though. Soon I'm around cars and following frequent GPS orders again. I feel a sense of accomplishment. It has been a while since I went for a longer ride.

My thighs hurt, this is not normal. I usually get tired after the 50km mark but it's usually on my back and neck. I started questioning myself what was wrong, but kept going. At some point, 5km away from home, I feel my rear tires going flat — it was probably slowing deflating for a while, thus requiring more effort on my legs. I stop by, breath deeply and start replacing the tube.

The spare tube is finally in, time to pump it up. Turns out it was also bad — it was an old one which was also punctured and I thought I had patched correctly.

Sorry, no photos of the disaster.

I call an Uber and a friendly driver saves my morning. We head back home discussing Romanian politics, history and women. Not bad.

![Actual ride on Strava {1728x877}](./5.png)[_Actual ride on Strava_](https://www.strava.com/activities/2748460282)


Ride report: Lake Tarnița — Cluj-Napoca, Romania


I recently spent 22 days in San Pedro de Atacama, a tiny town in the middle of the Atacama desert, the driest place on Earth. I’ve been hanging around in Chile for a while and I felt that I had to visit this place before leaving the country.

+++

![{4000x3000}](./laptop-dust.jpeg)_ThinkPad X1 Carbon probably 1 hour after being last cleaned_

I recently spent 22 days in **San Pedro de Atacama**, a tiny town in the middle of the **Atacama desert, the driest place on Earth**. I’ve been hanging around in **Chile** for a while and I felt that I had to visit this place before leaving the country.

Despite heading there during the end of the year holidays, I was in a regular work routine and I had a few things to sort out on some personal projects, so I headed there expecting to keep myself active.

I thought that my biggest trouble would be the dust covering my devices, but I also faced some other interesting challenges. In the first days, I started to question myself if it was really a good idea to go there while working. But I held tightly and accepted those challenges.

## Infrastructure

This was probably the most intimidating aspect for me but ended up being pretty manageable.

**There is little to no broadband internet** infrastructure. Most places have wifi, but as deep as I looked, **all of them runs on mobile data at the end**. I was totally not aware of this and just noticed after arriving. It kind of scared me at first, especially because the connection in the hostel I stayed in was painfully bad.

After a few days digging around, I found a cafe on [workfrom](https://workfrom.co/) that had better than average wifi. Soon I noticed that it had a special setup: **dedicated mobile data antennas** outside that looks a lot more reliable than the small 4G dongles that I found in other venues:

![{4000x3000}](./mobile-antennas.jpeg)

It was better, but not enough. I still suffered from some stability drops when the cafe was full and also with the high cafe prices. So I soon realized it would be just better to **use my phone as a 4G hotspot**. So I just rolled with that, and it ended up working really well, and cheap: ~7 USD for 10GB, which for me lasted on average 1 week.

Still, I would go out to cafes a few times a week to try different work environments. Some are very nice and unique.

![{3080x4107}](./cafe-inside.jpeg)

## Atmosphere

The air is very dry, so my nose — and everyone else’s — was irritated the whole time, and blowing your nose turns into a morning ritual. I think blowing/cleaning your nose must be more socially accepted there because you just can’t avoid it. I got surprised on an almost daily basis on what came out of it 😂

It can get very hot during the day, and you must also be worried about protecting yourself from sunlight.

Apart from those aspects, the place is just wonderful. It’s hard to describe, it feels like a magical place. It was one of the few places that I was kind of sorry about leaving.

> It is said that the high quantities of quartz and copper in the region gives its people positive energy, and the good vibes of northern Chile’s number-one tourist draw, San Pedro de Atacama, are sky high. — [Lonely Planet](https://www.lonelyplanet.com/chile/northern-chile/san-pedro-de-atacama)

Talking about energy, well, I felt like I had **lots of energy the whole time**. I was able to get a lot of stuff done, even with the not so ideal infrastructure and uncomfortable climate. In fact, I slept very little in the first weeks because it felt like working, buying food, walking around and talking to people was not enough to spend all the energy.

## Tourism

The tours can be very relaxing and renovating. I was able to visit some amazing places that feel like a masterpiece from nature.

![[](https://photos.app.goo.gl/FMx4TQWLfHmXu6Sj6)º {4000x3000}](./laguna.jpeg)_[View in 360º](https://photos.app.goo.gl/FMx4TQWLfHmXu6Sj6)_

It was also nice to bike through some interesting places:

![{4000x2999}](./bike-cave.jpeg)

**But I was also terrified of how tourism is so prevalent there**. Everyone that I met was there either:

- to do tours

- to work with tours or tourism-related stuff

At first, I felt that I was in the wrong party because all the people were there just for tours, while I was also interested in that but mostly working with non-tourism stuff and trying to live as I would in any place.

Almost every conversation started with “what have you done today?” which means “which tours have you done?”, but all I had to answer was something like “I ate lots of grapes, read one chapter of [_Prometheus Rising_](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28597.Prometheus_Rising) in the morning and implemented pagination in some areas of our web application”.

Some people had every day of their trips booked with tours. In the first days, I started to feel anxious. A feeling that I was missing something for not doing what everyone was doing—fear of missing out. But soon I realized that most of those people were on vacation, and were seriously invested in those days that they are able to travel. Different purposes, different expectations.

It’s interesting though how the place runs mostly on tourism. I heard stories about how a few decades ago there was almost nothing there (besides the desert of course) and there was a lot of scarcity and poverty. Probably because it was not so cheap to travel and information was not so readily available — i.e. people were not posting photos of the place on Instagram and writing blog posts like this one. Today it has all the basic stuff —water, electricity, internet, minimarkets — , a small but vibrant economy and lots of opportunities for people wanting to make some extra money during the high season.

It was nice to see how remote work is possible even in isolated and hostile places like this one.

All in all, it was a great experience that made me feel stronger. Now I would think twice before going to a rustic place like this while working but at the same time, I would also be more prepared to do the same thing if I wanted to.


How I survived Atacama desert while working remotely


About 12 months ago I was in southern Brazil going from Joinville, the city I lived, to Curitiba, where I would volunteer for a few weeks in a hostel. That would be my first experience as a nomad.

+++

![Moving from a house to another (subway in Santiago, Chile) {3367x3367}](./subway-santiago.jpeg)_Moving from a house to another (subway in Santiago, Chile)_

About 12 months ago I was in southern Brazil going from Joinville, the city I lived, to Curitiba, where I would volunteer for a few weeks in a [hostel improving their website](http://www.hostelsocial.com.br).

That would be my first experience as a nomad, living with not more than a backpack with just about a laptop, 3 t-shirts and clothes in an equivalent amount, a yoga mat and some camping equipment that I used twice.

I visited around 40 cities, 4 countries in South America and I’ve stayed in hostels, farms, eco-villages, Airbnb apartments and family houses. Met some interesting projects and encountered countless people, many of them also on the move. Learned a lot about many things, but mostly about myself.

## The Leap

The first thought about living like this struck my mind during an off-road bike ride [near my hometown](https://g.co/kgs/RXfvy2) in Minas Gerais, Brazil. I was amazed by the landscape during my ride, and I just wanted to keep riding, but the sunset was near and I had to return home because… well, I think most of us grow up returning home every day, and not taught or prepared to know how to live anywhere, anytime.

I began thinking about how we get literally locked by all the cultural and conceptual constructions and structures that arise around us. How could I overcome this? Thinking back, the decision to experiment this kind of life meant a big barrier — mostly a barrier of doubt — to break through.

How to survive and have a place to sleep while traveling? How to find work opportunities? What was essential to bring with me? How could I build a sustainable living around this idea? With those questions in mind, I started to research a lot about traveling, volunteering, and the digital nomad movement. Then, **it took probably a year and a half to mature the idea so I could feel confident** about doing it.

I let go of my current job at the time, the room in a comfy apartment that I used to rent, the approval from some of the family, most of my things, including clothes, books, and gadgets. I didn’t even have so many things, but I got impressed by how it was tough to get rid of everything I had and leave an empty room at the end. **Those things felt like they were supporting me, but I realized they were undermining my development** as a human being, and I had to let go of them. Today I don’t even remember what I used to have, and I don’t miss it.

For me, the idea of traveling came up as a way to flow along with the universe. Nature is very fluid, things are constantly changing. Being stuck in a routine, living in the same place for long periods and doing the same stuff every time started to feel like fighting the nature of things.

Although I spent a lot of time preparing myself as it was some kind of big leap, on the first day of traveling it already felt very simple and natural. After all, I think it’s not so much of a big deal as it may look, and the **leap was more inside than outside**.

**Now I can say that it was probably one of the best decisions I made.** At first, it was supposed to be a 1-year experiment, but now I want to keep going.

## The first contact

At the time, I’ve already been working for many years in front of computers, especially programming. I love computers, but I wanted to experience more stuff that life has to offer and be more in contact with nature.

I already knew some websites like [\*\*Worldpackers](http://worldpackers.com)** and [**Workaway](http://workaway.info)**, where you can **find volunteer opportunities in endless places doing all kinds of activities**. They seemed like good tools to achieve a sustainable way to travel for a good amount of time at a low-cost — you receive accommodation and sometimes food in exchange for your service. So **I subscribed myself on both, and in fact, it came out really well\*\*.

My first volunteering experience while traveling was improving a website, something I was very used to, but the following ones ranged through many different activities, like **bioconstruction, cleaning, cooking, reception, and language learning**.

I found myself doing things like:

- building a dry toilet with bamboo and clay

- giving workshops on diverse subjects like mandala drawing, cryptocurrencies, and personal development

- preparing breakfasts

- bringing fresh milk from the farm nearby

- cooking (and washing the dishes) for groups of more than 30 people

- doing SEO and Google Analytics consulting

![{3264x2448} Short mission to search for firewood to be used in the kitchen to cook ([eco yoga village in Minas Gerais, Brazil](http://vrindabhumi.com/))](./firewood-hunt.jpeg)_Short mission to search for firewood to be used in the kitchen to cook ([eco yoga village in Minas Gerais, Brazil](http://vrindabhumi.com/))_

Needless to say, I had great experiences volunteering and getting to know slightly-to-very different worlds. It broadened my perspective a lot. I learned a lot of stuff and met wonderful, wise, lovely people.

I was able to visit very beautiful and chilly places where I could just relax and appreciate nature simply by stepping out of the building — and sometimes not having a building at all. **Ultimately, it provided me a simple, fun and low-cost way to travel.**

But at some point, it started to feel like I was letting go too much of my personality, and I started to find myself in situations that I was not that interested. It also felt like I was not offering and practicing my best skills, thus not reaching my full potential.

**I realized that what I enjoy doing the most is messing around with computers**, trying new technology and listening to good sound systems. It also became clear that despite I love being around nature, I also enjoy urban environments. It felt like I was experiencing the very act of “knowing yourself” that I had read or heard many times, and for me, it meant building balance from within and being confident with who I already was.

I became able to feel more familiar with who I am only once I was exposed to and experienced the vast possibilities that reality provides. I believe that **there are many levels of self-realization through life**, and this process can happen in many ways, but **freestyle traveling can facilitate and potentialize it a lot**.

You may have a lot of interests and many things that you would want to do, but you don’t know exactly what it could mean, and what comes with it. For instance, **working with plants and the earth seemed a beautiful idea **when I was stuck in an office with artificial light on a sunny day, but **once I tried it for real I became grateful that I have skills to work away from direct sunlight while sitting on a chair** and basically just thinking and moving my hands.

During those experiences, I was still coding in my free time, mostly for fun on some personal projects like [tripby.org](https://tripby.org). After getting those insights about myself, I started to spend more time coding, and it felt like home again. But now it was different because I was doing it in novel environments.

Sometimes it was a challenge because many places didn’t have the best atmosphere to do computer work. Sometimes I would not have a desk to stay comfortably for reasonable periods of time, the internet connections were not always reliable and most people around me were on vacation, spending the day at the beach or the lake, relaxing and mostly staying away from technology.

I started to wonder about how I could keep traveling by working on my computer.

## Becoming a (more) digital nomad

I spent a few months looking into freelancing websites and also building a very early version of my own SaaS that was like a baby equivalent of Squarespace.

I also started to focus on work exchange opportunities that were more related to technology and that I could do some of my own work more easily while in my free time. That worked for a while and it did feel better.

![{1920x1536}](./remote-mosaic.jpeg)

Somewhere in between, I met [**Startaê**](https://startae.com/) — *a Brazilian team of designers and developers who help startups make positive changes around the world. *There was an opportunity to work with them as a developer in an interesting and aspiring project. **No office, no fixed work schedule, 100% remote**. And with people that I later realized were creative, kind and fun.

Although it happened just in time for me — like many things when you just let go — it was also kind of unexpected. The combination of the above was something not so usual for me.

In the first weeks joining them, I was already surprised by how the whole team **not only advocates remote work but actually makes it happen. In fact, one of the projects driven by Startaê is [Officeless](undefined)** — a movement that supports and spreads valuable information on how to work remotely in a reliable way.

Working with Startaê not only **pushed me a lot closer to the way of traveling that feels right for me** but also brought a lot of learning. Working remotely in a distributed team forces you to improve how you communicate, organize yourself and how you take responsibility for what you do. It also meant approaching my destinations and my travel schedules in a slightly different way, now with more thought and looking more far ahead.

Traveling provided me many encounters with like-minded people, and I felt that joining Startaê was something just like those encounters, but in an odd way because I never met anyone of the team in person!

## Ways of traveling and what to carry

When the idea of backpacking was introduced to me, I thought of it as a self-contained activity, and that there was a right way of doing it or at least a general approach to follow. Before departing, I researched a lot about “how people were doing it” and what to carry. In the end, I realized that it is much broader than that, and more like a personal thing. **It is nice to be inspired but more importantly to do it your way and also be open to adjusting along the way**.

One of my goals was to go towards a minimalistic lifestyle, an idea that I got mostly from reading and hearing some of [The Minimalists](https://www.theminimalists.com/) content, so I tried to pack the less stuff I could, also inspired by [this article](http://www.hobolifestyle.com/2015/05/packing-guide-for-ultralight-freestyle.html).

I got surprised about how it is possible to live with so little. That meant changing some of my standards and habits, which I would likely want to keep even if I stopped traveling because they brought simplicity and flexibility to my life.

![{4000x3000}](./things.jpeg)

What you can see in the picture above is mostly what I carry with me. The last time I checked it weighed about** 11kg total (~24lbs) and fits in a 44 L backpack**.

Of course, I use more than that to live day to day, for instance, nondurable things like toothpaste or appliances like a stove, but those are things I can find anywhere, and even if I don’t, I’m pretty sure I could live without it for a few days. Some of the stuff I used very few times and I like to keep them just in case, like in the day I slept in a bus terminal — which the sleeping bag and insulation mat came very handy.

But again, there are many approaches to this. I met a guy that travels mostly by foot but also crossed the Atlantic ocean on a sailboat. He likes to be very self-sufficient so he always has a tent with him, equipment to cook and a reasonable amount of food. When I heard his story it sounded very appealing and made me wonder what kinds of whole different situations and encounters all those different styles can provide.

## You’re sick of hangin’ around and you’d like to travel,

## Get tired of travelin’ and you want to settle down

In my first 8 months, I would spend on average 2–4 weeks in a given city or location. I enjoyed staying in busy places with people coming and going on a daily basis. **Lots of energy, information, and possibilities all the time.**

It was fun and special being in a hostel and organically forming a group of 10 like-minded people in just an afternoon and then going out at night like they were lifetime friends, but also mind-boggling because **those people would leave the next day** and then the same thing would happen all over again a week after.

I also got tired about constant change and uncertainty, especially when it came to infrastructure. I started to put a lot of effort on researching the best place to stay in my next destination considering my budget, and **if I didn’t like a place and decided to move after spending a few days, it meant packing and unpacking everything again**.

I would leave every place wondering what could happen if I stayed longer and connected more deeply with it and the community. It started to feel like I was missing something.

With all that in mind, I decided to try something different when I went to Santiago, Chile. **I tried to approach the city as I was living there, instead of passing by**. Among other things, I rented a room like a local would do, with no plans of leaving, and started attending the same co-working space on an almost daily basis.

That solved a lot of my pains and brought me some peace. **I was able to know people** — especially my flatmates — **in a deeper way**. To get familiar with the city and **being able to navigate without Google Maps**. To visit venues that I enjoyed more than just a few times, create some relationship with it and also notice how it can change over time. And little things like encountering friends randomly at the subway station.

Most importantly, it showed me that it was not just about the things I did differently, but how my mind changed about what it means to be in a place. **Ultimately, I think I learned better how to keep moving, and I feel more prepared to take the most of the next places I go.**


What I learned from living for one year as a nomad


I’ve used Graphcool on a few personal projects. It is a great tool to bootstrap a GraphQL backend with minimum setup. What if Graphcool could do custom queries on external APIs and handle me back the data as if it were from my own API?

+++

I’ve used [Graphcool](https://graph.cool) on a few personal projects. It is a great tool to bootstrap a GraphQL backend with minimum setup:

> Open-source and self-hosted backend-as-a-service to develop serverless GraphQL backends. The Graphcool Framework offers an opionated backend setup, including GraphQL database mapping, subscriptions & permission system.

Within a few minutes setting your schema, you get a database backed with a GraphQL API and all possible queries and mutations. Pretty cool.

Last week I was developing an app that must be integrated with the [Google Places API](https://developers.google.com/places/web-service/intro). Initially, I had to just parse a place using a place ID.

The Places documentation is pretty straightforward, and I was able to make a quick successful test using the provided endpoint:

```text
https://maps.googleapis.com/maps/api/place/details/json?placeid=**PLACE_ID**&key=**YOUR_API_KEY**
```

Cool, but if I just query this on my app using an HTTP client like [axios](https://github.com/axios/axios) or something like that, I’ll lose all the advantages of using a GraphQL API. I use Apollo, for example, and it provides me with all the cool stuff, like automatic caching and a declarative API.

So, what if Graphcool could do this query for me and handle me back the data as if it were from my own API? You can achieve this using **Resolver functions.**

> With a resolver you can provide custom queries and mutations that are powered by a function that you provide.

![{1205x624}](./1.png)

## Setting up a Resolver function

Create a new function and select **Resolver **as the type. Then, you will need to write two files — directly on the Graphcool UI:

### Resolver SDL

**Specifies how you will extend your schema.**

In my case, I’m adding GooglePlace as a new type in my schema. It has just a payload field, which returns Json data.

The query to parse a GooglePlace accepts one argument: id

My file looks like this:

```graphql
type GooglePlace {
  payload: Json!
}

extend type Query {
  googlePlace(id: String!): GooglePlace
}
```

### Inline code

**The function that will be called when you call the query you just described**

In my case, I will just call the Google Places API using the provided id and my API key, and return the data as the payload field on my GooglePlace type:

```js
const fetch = require('node-fetch');

const GOOGLE_PLACES_API_KEY = 'your-key';

module.exports = function(event) {
  const { id } = event.data;
  return fetch(fetchGooglePlace(id))
    .then(res => res.json())
    .then(payload => {
      console.log(payload);
      return {
        data: {
          payload,
        },
      };
    });
};

function fetchGooglePlace(id) {
  return `https://maps.googleapis.com/maps/api/place/details/json?placeid=${id}&key=${GOOGLE_PLACES_API_KEY}`;
}
```

**Done!** 🎉

Now I can query the Google Places API directly through my Graphcool backend using GraphQL:

![{1879x1120}](./2.png)

For more info, check out the [Graphcool documentation on Resolver functions](https://www.graph.cool/docs/reference/functions/resolvers-su6wu3yoo2).

👋


Using Graphcool resolvers to integrate external APIs with your GraphQL schema


GraphQL APIs are awesome and you should feel lucky if your current project has the data available through a GraphQL endpoint. Sometimes though, we could be in a situation in which using a GraphQL client is not an option.

+++

GraphQL APIs are awesome and you should feel lucky if your current project has the data available through a GraphQL endpoint.

You’ve probably heard about GraphQL clients and how they make our lives much better. If you are dealing with a GraphQL API, you really should be using something like [Apollo](https://www.apollographql.com/docs/react/api/apollo-client.html) or [Relay](https://facebook.github.io/relay/) to take full advantage of it.

### Life is not always beautiful

Sometimes though, we could be in a situation in which using a GraphQL client is not an option. Maybe the application is not ready yet to fully incorporate it, or maybe the server is not compatible with it yet (yes, I’ve seen this happening, I don’t know why, though).

Well, GraphQL feels like a fancy new thing but at the end you are still doing the same XHR requests, as you would with REST endpoints, so you can just use a simple HTTP client like [axios](https://github.com/axios/axios):

```js
import axios from 'axios';
import apiUrl from '../config';

axios({
  method: 'post',
  url: apiUrl,
  headers: {
    Authorization: localStorage.getItem('token'),
  },
  data: {
    query: `
      {
        allCandy {
          id
          name
          effects
        }
      }`,
  },
});
```

**That works!** But sometimes you will need to compose your query or mutation with params, and maybe you will feel tempted to do something like this:

```js
import axios from 'axios';
import apiUrl from '../config';

axios({
  method: 'post',
  url: apiUrl,
  headers: {
    Authorization: localStorage.getItem('token'),
  },
  data: {
    query: `
      {
        collection(
          name: ${candyNameFilter} // 👈
        ) {
          name
          id
          feeds
        }
      }`,
  },
});
```

Template literals, right?! I can bring any variable into my string.

Yes, you can, but that would resolve to something like this:

```js
name: Lollipop;
```

When the endpoint actually would probably expect:

```js
name: 'Lollipop';
```

Well, then you could just put quotes around it:

```js
candy((name: '${candyNameFilter}'));
```

And that fortunately will work! But doesn’t feel right. And if your variable is an object or an array, you will have to stringify and sometimes manipulate it so it gets to the desired format.

## The solution

The good thing is we can still directly pass those variables without having to format them, with the help of two libraries:

- [graphql](https://github.com/graphql/graphql-js)

- [graphql-tag](https://github.com/apollographql/graphql-tag)

**First, declare your query and its variables — and their types (if in doubt, refer to the API documentation on GraphiQL):**

```js
import gql from 'graphql-tag';

const GET_CANDY = gql`
  query candy($name: String) {
    candy(name: $name) {
      id
      name
      effects
    }
  }
`;
```

When calling it, use graphql to print it. And the variables goes in a separate variables property:

```js
import axios from 'axios';
import { print } from 'graphql';
import gql from 'graphql-tag';
import apiUrl from '../config';

const GET_CANDY = gql`
  query candy (
    $name: String
  ) {
    candy (
      name: $name
    ) {
      id
      name
      effects
    }
  }`;


axios({
  method: 'post',
  url: apiUrl,
  data: {
    query: print(GET_CANDY),
    variables: {
      name: candyNameFilter,
    }
  }
}).then(() => {
  // ...
}
```

That’s it! The query will be composed in the right, expected format by the server.

Also, by using graphql-tag you get syntax highlighting and linting capabilities depending on the editor and extensions that you are using.

👋


Composing GraphQL calls without a GraphQL client


I am a creator of digital products at [Quartzo](https://quartzo.studio), [amateur cyclist](https://www.strava.com/athletes/17408874), [photographer](https://photo.dlbn.co), and digital nomad.
