The messages tend to arrive first thing in the morning, which tells me my friends are texting before bed.

“Hey. What kind of visa did you apply for? Can we schedule time to chat tomorrow?

“Sure,” I reply. “Nine a.m. your time, 5 p.m. mine?”

After losing nearly everything in the Great Recession –my job and car, our apartment and savings–my future husband and I moved into a converted cargo van and became “economic migrants.” Since then we’ve slowly traveled through 25 countries, supporting ourselves with a small online business selling outdoor recreation equipment. Today we live in a house in Spain with our 12-year-old daughter.

Which is to say I’m used to fielding questions about living abroad. But lately I’ve noticed less whimsy and more urgency on these calls. My friends haven’t had

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