Behind the familiar image of a digital nomad in Mauritius sipping a smoothie by the sea, or a relaxed retiree with their feet buried in the sand, there's another side to the story鈥攍ess glamorous, but just as real. It's a world built on odd jobs, skill swaps, favors, and informal networks that keep daily life going. A quiet, often invisible economy made of know-how, exchanges, and most of all... human connection. In this way of life, the goal isn't to 鈥渨in鈥� in any traditional sense. It's about flow鈥攐f skills, energy, ideas, time, objects, support, and knowledge. It's an economy rooted in handmade work, local ties, and genuine relationships. And yes, maybe even a hint of freedom.
A human-scale economy that starts with a simple phrase
When you move to a new country, everything has to be rebuilt from the ground up鈥攜our landmarks, routines, relationships. Often, your work life too. It's a liminal space, a time suspended between two worlds. And in that space, something natural happens: people start helping each other, trading favors, and getting creative.
鈥淚 helped a neighbor design her flyers. In return, she gave me three yoga sessions. Great trade!鈥�, says Claire, 34, an expat settled in La Gaulette. These kinds of exchanges鈥攃asual, pressure-free, with no contracts鈥攁re the foundation of this human-scale economy. People offer what they know, what they enjoy, and share it. A French teacher might give private lessons at home. A mom with a love for crafts might run a painting workshop in her garden.
The return of bartering
Language lessons, home help, babysitting, tutoring, massage, wellness coaching, sewing, repairs, gardening, logo design... the possibilities are endless. And these exchanges often begin with something as simple as:
鈥� 鈥淵ou do that? Could you help me with it?鈥�
鈥� 鈥淪ure! Maybe you could teach me how to鈥︹��
Like that, a trade is built on trust and common sense.
鈥淚 edit videos for a friend, and in return she watches my kids every other Saturday. We found our balance without ever talking about money", shares Mathias, freelance designer in Grand Baie.
You could call it bartering, but that word doesn't quite capture it. It's more of an exchange ecosystem, where people offer what they can and receive what they need. And often, it's about much more than a service鈥攊t's about connection. Friendship. Collaboration.
Groups, networks, and the power of 鈥淒o you know someone?鈥�
No storefronts. No platforms. No formal marketplaces. This parallel economy thrives in local expat groups. Facebook, WhatsApp, Telegram鈥攖hese spaces buzz with questions, advice, venting, and, of course, service exchanges.
A post at 8 a.m. might spark three replies, two recommendations, and a meetup by lunchtime. A simple chat at an expat event might lead to a collaboration, a friendship, or a recurring workshop. In Mauritius, word-of-mouth is everything. Recommendations carry weight. People help each other because it feels natural, human, and even easy.
Sometimes, the gestures go far beyond a trade or a favor. Like the day Victor, a Portuguese expat awaiting heart surgery, posted in a local Facebook group: 鈥淗i everyone, I need your help. I'm having heart surgery on Monday and just found out my blood type, A negative, is rare. I need to find four donors. If you're a match, please let me know鈥攖hank you from the bottom of my heart.鈥� Within minutes, the group began to mobilize. It wasn't a trade in the usual sense. It was something deeper鈥攁 relational economy where people give without expecting anything, simply because they're part of the same moment, the same community.
A global trend driven by the need for connection
Some expats turn to this informal economy to stay active without returning to a rigid structure. Others see it as a sandbox鈥攁 space to test an idea, run a workshop, or explore a new path. It's a model that lets you set your own rhythm, free from pressure. You can offer a service once a week or once a month. Work from your living room, a caf茅, or a shared courtyard. Choose who you collaborate with, when, how鈥攁nd most importantly, why.
Expat families are often at the heart of this economy. Their needs are practical: help with homework, support for school outings, kids' workshops, shared childcare, and home-cooked meals. And they're naturals at sharing鈥攑ooling resources, exchanging services, lending a hand, and passing things along.
鈥淥n Wednesdays, we alternate homes for watching the kids. The other mom gets a quiet day to work, and I get to run theater games with the kids. It's our rhythm, our balance", shares Caroline, an expat in Grand Gaube.
From Lisbon to Pondicherry, Ubud to Dakar, Tulum to Grand Baie
This parallel economy flourishes wherever expats live in community. It's a quiet movement, driven by the search for meaning, simplicity, and genuine exchange. It speaks to those who want to slow down, share, and pass something on. To those who believe value doesn't always have to come with a price tag.
It doesn't compete with the traditional economy鈥攊t complements it. It softens it. Makes it more flexible, more local, and more alive. Ultimately, it's a reminder that living abroad isn't just about changing your surroundings. It's about rethinking the way we live.
