I moved from New Orleans to Buenos Aires after a breakup, and it was the best decision I ever made

• I left my life in New Orleans for a completely different change of pace in Buenos Aires.

• After living here for two years, I can confidently say it was the best decision I ever made.

• My career and personal life are flourishing. While I make less, my cost of living is lower.

Two years ago, my life was very different. My relationship had just ended, my landlord died, and I was sad and anxious about finding a new apartment in the ever-more-costly New Orleans rental market.

Fast forward, and I’m now enjoying the happiest time of my life in Argentina. After my landlord passed, I stretched my savings to visit a friend in Buenos Aires and ultimately decided to move there.

One of the first phrases I learned after moving was “mejor calidad de vida,” which translates to better quality of life — and I can confidently say that’s been my experience in Argentina. After two years in Buenos Aires, I have no regrets or plans to return to the US.

As a gay man, I feel safer in Buenos Aires

Argentina was the first Latin American country to legalize same sex marriage, and Buenos Aires regularly tops lists of queer-friendly travel destinations.

Same-sex or queer couples are casually affectionate around town, and I find myself rarely tensing the way I sometimes did in Louisiana when something told me I needed to be cautious and alert.

I make less, but my creativity is flourishing

I’ve started freelancing again, and while I earn less, my expenses are much lower without a car and in the more affordable rental market here.

I live a short walk from greengrocers, butchers, grocery stores, and nearly everything else I might need, with a cheap and extensive (if not always timely) network of buses and subways.

The lower cost of living has given me more opportunities to be choosier about my freelance projects.

I’ve never been more pleased with my creative work: I recently sold my first horror short story and have 12,000 words and counting written toward my first novel manuscript.

My personal life is flourishing, too

I spent my first few months enjoying the bigger, more diverse dating pool of a big city.

I’m now in the early stages of a promising new relationship — with my Spanish teacher.

Humblingly for this former all-star French student, getting up to speed on the lingo has been tricky.

The region has a distinctive dialect, which preserves certain old-fashioned usages and incorporates features from Italians who arrived with the waves of late 19th and early 20th-century immigrants.

This local Spanish can challenge newcomers, and more than one person has compared learning Spanish in Argentina to learning English in Scotland.

In my experience, though, the people of Buenos Aires have been generous with my slow but steady progress, repeating themselves when I need to try again and trying their English when I’m completely lost.

I have different ice cream flavors for different moods

Buenos Aires is so densely populated with ice cream shops that I now have different favorites for different moods and situations.

Favorite local flavors include kumquats in whiskey, sambayon — an eggy, boozy custard, and crema del cielo, “cream of heaven,” a sweet cream whose name only exaggerates slightly.

I’ve also embraced the city’s elegant cafe culture. Instead of American-style coffee to go, I now sit and savor my coffee, along with the little glass of soda water and sweet biscuit that generally accompanies it.

And I’m constantly surrounded by the city’s colorful plant life. Trees are planted in a curated assortment, so something is always in bloom: orange tipas, indigo jacarandas, pink palos borrachos.

I’m still adjusting to the city’s different lifestyle

Argentinians dine late and party even later, which doesn’t always align with my 40-year-old rise-and-shine circadian rhythms.

Fortunately, friends will occasionally compromise on an 8 o’clock dinner, and self-employment means I can nap when I need.

The bureaucracy can present a challenge, especially around the postal service. Cash-strapped Argentina balances its budget with a strict customs system, which means mail can be a hassle — sometimes it’s delayed, sometimes you have to jump through hoops to get it, and sometimes it never arrives.

For example, to retrieve a T-shirt sent to me for my birthday, I had to receive a telegram, register online, go downtown twice, and speak to four people at separate desks.

These learning curves are a low price to pay for the life I have now. As I go about my day in my beautiful new home, I find myself smiling for no reason beyond the pleasure of the city.

Writer and editor Chris Turner-Neal writes about his new life in Argentina and other topics at upsidedownandinspanish.substack.com.

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