I don't actually want anyone to get their phone stolen, but I did. And it changed my life.
Mere minutes after living through a spiritually fulfilling experience (seeing Hozier live), my brand new phone and two of my friends' wallets got stolen at the bootleg merch booths outside the concert venue. One moment we were looking at tote bags and hoodies. Next thing we knew, we were smushed by a swarm of people, unable to move. My friends and I decided to retreat and, once we were out into a clearing, we were the same people... minus a phone and two wallets.
The experience of being non-violently robbed is existentially weird. One would think they'd realize they're being targeted. I mean, how can you not feel something out of the ordinary is happening on your person? I wasn't dumb. I was using a fanny pack under three layers of clothing, but these people are artists. The moment we got out of the ocean of people and realized what happened, we were in total shock.
I swear I went through all stages of grief in less than an hour, but at the end of the day... it was just a phone. Was it a recently big personal investment? Yes. Did it have all of the videos and pics of a life-changing concert? Also yes. Was I now in the middle of a "random" city without access to my digital wallet, GPS and other phone-related life essentials? Mhmm, yes. But it was still just a phone nonetheless.
The next day, I bought a Nokia 110 in a nearby convenience store, restored my sim and just kept on living. I was on the trip with my closest friends so I knew I would be fine being contactless for another four days. But now, I had to adapt to survive with nothing other than my manually-inputed contacts (for calls and SMS), my brand new 0.3 megapixel camera, and Snake.
This is something we all know, but you never really think about the type of bond you have to this material plane until it's challenged.
A month prior to the incident, I thought about getting a non-smartphone to limit my access to tech whenever I felt like my brain was getting too absorbed into my Pixel. I was feeling less present in my life and wanted to make a conscious decision to dumb-down my online activity, without actually getting rid of my cool camera and all-in-all amazing phone. Ironically, I had already researched slightly smarter Nokia phones and was even planning out a way to introduce a less tech-y lifestyle into my everyday. I guess the universe took my intentions too literally and decided I needed to go all in on the tech-less experience.
There are many reasons why I'm grateful for this experience, and one of the most important ones is the way I bonded with my friends over this brick phone. My Nokia takes some cool 0.3mp pictures, and the aesthetic became the entire vibe of the trip. We took cool pictures, laughed at the distorted audio the videos captured, and made fun of the cute noises it did when I texted someone. Most of all, I was forcibly present in every moment, and it actually felt freeing. I looked at my Nokia with love, and it looked back at me with no judgement at all.
Being a phone-less foreigner is not something I recommend. I had trustworthy company and was slightly familiar with the city I was traveling in, but it was still a challenge. Security-wise, no bueno. But I also haven't bought a new phone. I downgraded back to my old Pixel, which has issues with speed and battery (reasons why I decided to upgrade after five years in the first place), but I'm not sure if I'm ready to make that big of a purchase again quite yet.
There's a ton of morals to this story. Be safe and conscious when you travel; Look both ways before approaching a bootleg merch booth; Reflect on the way you engage with technology on your day-to-day; Memories are best lived being present; Nokia 110 phones sound funny, take cool pictures and might actually change your life.
Whatever it is you take from my experience, I hope it makes you feel grateful for something in your life.