Photo courtesy of Emily Lodish

Those first weeks in Boston, when I knew no one, I tried planting little seeds of life wherever I could. I found a guy on Craigslist to help me move some furniture, and offered to buy him breakfast afterwards. I made plans to get coffee with my landlord. Twice.

And I befriended a couple Brazilian furniture makers whom I met while furniture shopping. I had fallen for an Art Deco-era vanity in their shop window, and I was keen to give her a face-lift. Paint her turquoise, you know, the works. Aldison and Claude said they would happily show me some tricks of the trade so long as I brought the beer. It didn’t occur to me until later that I was essentially paying for the pleasure of doing most of the work myself. Very clever.

We spent several days together over the course of the next few weeks, painting and sanding in the back of their shop. Aldison was about my age and looked like he could bench press a car. Claude was older and soft-spoken. I made up a boyfriend to avoid any confusion and showed up on time each day with a six-pack of Corona.

We labored under the watchful eye of a framed Madonna poster. Her hair was tousled in front of her face and she had her arms up overhead, proudly exposing her untamed pits. I commented on how I thought she pulled it off.

“It’s Madonna,” I said, by way of explanation. To my surprise, Aldison and Claude did not agree.

“Brazil is not France,” said Aldison. Noted.

We were getting to know one another, and I appreciated their company and their patience. They stayed with me while I agonized over whether to paint the handles on the drawers of the vanity. (You will be comforted to know we left them in their original walnut finish.) We discussed what would happen if Rio got the World Cup.

I guess you could say I was putting myself out there, trying to cultivate a new friendship in an unlikely place. But the stakes are lower when you’re the new kid on the block. You don’t have an identity attached to the place yet, and it’s easier to try things on for size.

It’s like traveling. When experiences are the order of the day, you feel freer to follow your nose and let one thing lead to another. Circumstances throw people in your lap, and you wind up investing in them—people you probably wouldn’t even have had the occasion to meet back in your normal life. A relationship I had in Cambodia began this way, and though it no longer fits my life, I know I’m better with it a part of me.

Away from the shop and out with the Brazilians in Davis Square one Friday night, we swapped stories about how we’d wound up in this place. Claude had been through a messy divorce to which he attributed most of his gray hair. Aldison recounted his 28-day journey from Brazil to Boston via the Mexican border. I told about being frisked in the basement of the Cambodian airport on account of my mosquito racquet.

I realize that, strictly speaking, I am not an immigrant. But new to Boston, we were all pretty much in the same boat. We could gripe about the city’s stiff upper lip and know that somewhere under there was the shared question: Will I ever be truly happy here? Aldison offered to give me a ride home, even though it was out of his way, and we all got hopelessly lost in Brookline trying to find Jamaica Plain.

In the ensuing months, I have inevitably settled into Boston quite a bit, and Somerville, where the Brazilians live, has started to feel really far away. Aldison invited me to a house party recently that he and his roommates were hosting. I said I would try to make it, but knew I probably wouldn’t. Since then, I’d been meaning to stop by the shop and see how things were going. Yesterday, I finally made the trip.

“I’m sorry I missed your party a while back. Was it fun?” I asked Aldison, who was on a break.

“Yeah. It was fun,” he said. “I’ve been trying to see you for so long.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s hard. We live in different parts of the city.”

“Yes, but not different parts of the world.”

He had a point. The simple fact was that my life was fuller now and I didn’t need Aldison’s company the way I used to. Now that I was closer to who I was going to be in this place, our worlds were less similar. I felt bad, but that was the truth.

Not all friendships are created equal, but neither are any to be discounted. I’ve made a few new friends in my neighborhood, one in particular I’ve come to think of as a kindred spirit. She’s moving away and I’d like to stay in touch, but I know we’ll have to wait and see. Once her life takes off, wherever it is she winds up next.

ODDS CHECK: The odds an adult will refinish furniture in a year are 1 in 35.54.

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