Why Greece Called Me… and Ecuador Called My Sister

Why Greece Called Me… and Ecuador Called My Sister
Leena and her sister, Mona, at the vibrant Mindo sign in Ecuador.|©Vijay Raju

Four years ago, my husband and I sold our house, packed what remained into a 5x5 storage unit, and moved to Greece. We didn’t know if it would be forever, just that we were ready for change. He had visited Corfu, fallen in love, and come back with that unmistakable gleam in his eye: this is the place. I trusted him, but told myself, “If it doesn’t work out, the world is wide. We can always try somewhere else.”

That first year was a test of patience. We cycled through short-term rentals, faced piles of paperwork, and lived without many of the belongings that usually make a house feel like home. For months, I wondered if I would ever feel rooted. But slowly, I settled in. The olive groves became familiar. Neighbors greeted us with warmth. Expats who had once been strangers became friends. And eventually, Greece wasn’t just the place we had chosen—it was home.

This past August, though, Corfu’s summer heat drove me across the Atlantic to visit my sister and brother-in-law in Cotacachi, Ecuador. They had made their own leap two years earlier, but for different reasons. They wanted a country in the same time zone as the U.S., with easy flights to see children in Boston and Austin. My brother-in-law still traveled frequently for work, so proximity to an international airport was essential. Ecuador offered all that—and more: a low cost of living, a welcoming expat community, and a climate that seemed almost miraculous.

A Taste of Eternal Spring

Leena enjoying the view over Pululagua’s lush volcanic crater.
Leena enjoying the view over Pululagua’s lush volcanic crater.|©Mona Raju

Cotacachi sits in the Andean highlands, where the temperature rarely strays far from the low 70s by day and the 50s at night. My sister’s home has neither heating nor air conditioning. Windows open and close depending on the weather, and nature takes care of the rest. After sweating through Corfu’s August humidity, stepping into this eternal spring felt like heaven.

I spent my days walking through town, where every passerby greeted me with buenos días. I joined my sister on a horseback retreat, explored the lush cloud forest near Mindo—home to butterflies and hummingbirds that zipped around us like tiny jewels—and celebrated my birthday with a ten-course dinner in Quito, complete with wine pairings that rivaled anything I’ve experienced in Europe. Quito itself surprised me: an international city with sleek museums, elegant restaurants, and malls more upscale than many I’ve seen in the U.S.

The highlight, though, was stepping into the heart of Ecuadorian culture. At a local seed festival, Indigenous communities displayed not only seeds but music, crafts, and food—an entire celebration of heritage and earth. One evening, we were welcomed into the home of Claudia, an Indigenous woman who offers traditional cooking classes. She prepared a feast while her husband and friends played music, and we all danced together in her living room. She even showed us the family’s “old kitchen,” where guinea pigs—considered a delicacy—scurried around the embers of a hearth. (For the record, I couldn’t bring myself to try one. My son would never forgive me.)

Greece and Ecuador, Side by Side

Mona and Leena enjoying Lago San Pablo’s beauty in the Ecuadorian highlands.
Mona and Leena enjoying Lago San Pablo’s beauty in the Ecuadorian highlands.|©Vijay Raju

Travel always brings comparisons. Ecuador charmed me—the friendliness of the people, the beauty of the landscapes, the depth of tradition. But I couldn’t help stacking it against the life I’ve built in Greece.

Ecuador has eternal spring; Greece has seasons. Mild though they are, I like watching the year turn—the orange blossoms of spring, the golden light of autumn, even the rare winter frost that makes the hills sparkle. Ecuador has Indigenous festivals and Andean music; Greece has ancient ruins, Byzantine churches, and village feasts where locals dance to bouzouki well into the night. Ecuador gives my sister proximity to her children in the U.S.; Greece places me close to the rest of Europe, where Paris, Rome, and someday even the Northern Lights are just a short flight away.

And then there’s safety. My sister’s home is surrounded by a tall wall topped with shards of glass. Bars cover the windows. Two German Shepherd puppies are being trained not only as companions but as guard dogs. None of this felt ominous—life there is vibrant and peaceful—but it is part of the reality. In Greece, by contrast, we often forget to lock our door at night. Crime is rare, and I sleep with a light heart. That sense of security is one of the quiet gifts I didn’t know I valued until I saw the difference.

Why We Leap

Standing on the middle of the world at the Intiñan Equator Museum.
Standing on the middle of the world at the Intiñan Equator Museum.

Perhaps the most striking part of my Ecuador visit was the realization that my sister and I had both done it—we had both taken the leap so many people only dream about. At conferences with would-be expats, I’ve met countless people who hesitate. They want adventure, lower costs, or warmer climates, but fear holds them back. Family ties, uncertainty, or simply the overwhelming number of choices can keep dreams in the realm of imagination.

Why, then, did my sister and I jump? I think it comes back to our childhood. Our father worked for AT&T, and every promotion meant a new town. By the time I was sixteen, we had moved from Iowa to Texas. It was a difficult age to uproot, but it taught us adaptability. Moving became less of a fear and more of a skill. For people who have lived in one place their entire lives, I understand how daunting the idea of uprooting must feel. For us, it felt almost natural.

The Grass is Green Everywhere

Vijay, Mona and Leena sharing laughs abroad—a reminder that home is where you feel most alive.
Vijay, Mona and Leena sharing laughs abroad—a reminder that home is where you feel most alive.|©Vijay Raju

Living abroad has taught me that no place is perfect. Greece has bureaucracy and humidity. Ecuador has security concerns. The U.S. has high costs and its own brand of stress. But each place also has its gifts: Greece gives me community, beauty, and history; Ecuador gives my sister climate, connection, and culture.

The grass isn’t greener anywhere. It’s just different shades of green.

So if you dream of moving abroad, my advice is this: do your scouting trips, yes—but don’t overthink it forever. If a place lights you up, if it feels like somewhere you could live fully, take the leap. My sister knew the moment she landed in Ecuador. My husband knew when he first set foot in Corfu. And eventually, I knew too.

Because moving abroad isn’t about finding perfection. It’s about finding the place where you feel most alive. For me, that place is Greece. For my sister, it’s Ecuador. And both of us discovered that home is not a fixed address—it’s where you finally live your dream.

Share