They walked through the gates seeking a better of way of life. Some were required to change their names so they did not sound foreign. They did so they may carve a new chapter in their family history. While we will never be one of the 12 million who passed through Ellis Island, we passed through our own version today!

According to the christian bible, twelve days after the birth of Jesus, the three kings/wisemen appeared and gave gifts to the baby. Their appearance is known as the Epiphany. For the 2026 Epiphany, I gave Mikey a boot for his two broken bones.

Bah humbug—but make it international. This is not a heartwarming holiday post; it’s a behind-the-scenes look at what happens when relocation, Christmas, and depression all RSVP to the same party. Consider this your warning: humor is present, but it’s wearing black and muttering under its breath.

Assimilation sneaks up on you. One minute you’re wrapped in a blue hospital blanket with a lifetime of cultural expectations attached, and the next you’re wondering why Christmas feels wrong when it’s 80 degrees outside. This is a story about what happens when those assumptions get shaken—like a snow globe that never quite settles.

There’s a moment when routine collapses and chaos steps in without knocking. Last night found that moment parked across the street.

This entry contains rare content: optimism. Don’t worry — it’s still paired with mild disbelief and a shopping list longer than my patience.

Sometimes life hands you a moment so absurd you just have to share it. And sometimes that moment involves police, flashlights, and greyhounds doing their morning business. Buckle up — this is one of those stories.

I thought dinner was going to be the highlight of the evening. Then the drums started, the dancers appeared, and suddenly we were in a cultural festival disguised as a rehearsal. Uruguay does not believe in half-measures.

Brace yourself: this entry is informational, and I know that’s about as fun as eating steamed vegetables. But unlike every presenter who says “we’ll get to that later” and then never does — I actually intend to get to it. Welcome to How The Sausage Is Made - Renters Addition.

We thought Airbnb #3 would be our cozy temporary home. Instead, we walked into something that can best be described as “slasher film Airbnb edition.” Buckle up, this one’s a ride.

Friday was supposed to be a simple moving day—you know, a quick hop from one Airbnb to another. Naturally, that meant it turned into a full-blown circus featuring two anxious dogs, overstuffed suitcases, and a check-in process straight out of a sitcom. Settle in, because this relocation came with more twists than we bargained for.

Uruguay offers a refreshing contrast to the polarized cultural conversations happening in the United States—particularly around the term “woke.” While social justice and equality are deeply embedded in everyday life here, the concept is not distorted, weaponized, or even part of public discourse. What follows is my perspective on why “woke” as a culture-war idea simply doesn’t exist in Uruguay.

Every day starts with a dog walk, which sounds simple until you remember one of our dogs is 14 and believes brisk movement is for the youth. Turns out, her slow shuffle is teaching me more about life than any motivational speaker ever has.

Mikey and I decided it was time to explore Montevideo like locals—which is to say, we walked everywhere and pretended we knew where we were going. Spoiler: we did not. But we found plenty of surprises anyway.

Gulliver had giants, Alice had Wonderland, and Mikey and I have Montevideo—where everything from apartments to meal portions feels like it’s been hit with a shrink ray. The adventure is real, the ceilings are low, and the bacon order was almost catastrophic.

Welcome to life in Montevideo—where our “temporary apartment” is roughly the size of our old master closet, and our dogs have become minor local celebrities. What began as a simple Airbnb booking has turned into a crash course in compact living and canine diplomacy. Let’s just say: we’re adjusting… and so is everyone who sees us coming.

After 24 hours of travel, three airports, two dogs, and one near-death experience by exhaustion, we finally made it to Montevideo. It’s beautiful, chaotic, and apparently full of gas leaks we accidentally create. Here’s how our first two days in Uruguay went—spoiler alert: the fire department now knows who we are.

After 26 hours of travel chaos, caffeine, and mild panic, we’ve officially hit the halfway mark. The dogs are somewhere over Europe, Mikey’s battling a travel cold, and I’m just trying to remember which country our luggage is in. Welcome to the glamorous side of international relocation—spoiler alert, it’s mostly exhaustion and airport chairs.

It’s officially crunch time in the Dedmon-Jasek household. The dogs have begun their international adventure, and now it’s our turn to face the final chaos—boxes, paint cans, and all. The countdown is real, and the reality of this move is hitting harder than our morning coffee.

As our departure draws near, the reality of this move is finally setting in. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of packing, paperwork, and goodbyes—but the hardest part is yet to come: saying farewell to our pups as they begin their journey to Uruguay. Here’s where things stand as we enter the final stretch.