13 countries. Every one of them, I was still the outsider — laughing at jokes I didn't get, missing the real story everyone was telling. So I quit my job and built something about it.
At 31, I've been to 13 countries. In all of them, I was still outside the thing.
I didn't want to be a tourist. I wanted to be in the version of the city the locals knew — the dinner after the dinner, the joke that needs context, the story people only tell people they trust.
That life is gated by language. Everything else is a visit.
I tried everything. Duolingo. Babbel. Pimsleur. Rosetta Stone.
None of them prepared me for the Uber driver who talks fast, the waiter who uses slang nobody in an app had ever said, or the date who wasn't going to slow down just because I was learning.
Colombia, Spain, France, Italy, Germany, Portugal. Everyone around me spoke two or three languages effortlessly. I was the guy smiling along, waiting for the English-speaker in the group to turn around.
Three years doing supply-chain work, watching the world shift toward Mexico and Latin America. I could see the opportunities clearly. I just couldn't have the conversations that went with them.
Quit the job. Every Uber ride, every bar conversation, every awkward moment at the tienda — I was taking notes. Not to write a textbook, but to build something that sounded like the place I was trying to belong to.
Apps gave me volume without depth. Thousands of taps, swipes, and matching exercises. I'd score 100% on the lesson and then freeze the second a real human spoke to me. The classic gripe: I could pass any test the app gave me, but I couldn't open my mouth in the actual world.
Then Babbel Live changed everything. Unlimited live classes with real teachers for a flat monthly fee. I took many classes over months with Yudy and Adlana — two teachers based in Latin America. Something different started happening.
They corrected me in ways no app ever had. They pushed where I was hiding. They explained why something landed wrong, three different ways, until it stuck. By the tenth class with Yudy I wasn't just learning Spanish — I had a relationship. I cared if I missed a session. I knew when I'd improved because she noticed before I did.
The unlimited model was the unlock. Reps every day, with real humans, for one flat price. I advanced more in those months than in the previous three years combined.
Then they shut it down. And honestly — of course they did. Unlimited human teachers at a low price is a dream for the student, but it's not a business. The math doesn't work. So they killed it, and I was left to my own devices again — but already further along than I'd ever been.
Here's the truth: a teacher every day, all year, for as long as it takes — is what almost everyone needs and what almost no one can have. Teachers need to be paid fairly. Time zones don't cooperate. Kids need dinner. The work week wins. Babbel Live tried to solve it by losing money. That doesn't last.
So most of us end up with apps that give us reps without depth, or teachers who give us depth without enough reps. Pick one. Compromise. Stay stuck.
I noticed something about Yudy and Adlana that 50+ hours with an AI couldn't replicate. And I noticed something about my AI characters that no teacher's schedule could match.
So we built a place where you don't have to choose. AI vs. human is the wrong fight. Different tools. Different jobs. Both irreplaceable. Both incomplete alone.
There's a lot of AI hype right now. Translation apps on dates. Earbuds whispering real-time translations. Products that keep a screen between you and another human forever.
I believe the opposite: AI should prepare you for human connection, not replace it. We're the treadmill. Real life is the race.
And the teachers who got me here are still part of the equation. AI gives you reps a teacher can't sit through. Teachers give you a relationship AI can't fake.
We don't argue one is better than the other — we built one place where they work side by side. Because that's the only thing I've ever seen actually work.
The waiter in Mexico City. The colleague in Paris. The grandmother who only speaks Portuguese. Those connections are what we're preparing you for.
We charge per minute. If you don't practice, we don't get paid. That's not a pricing quirk — it's why everything here is built to get you talking.
Not from a Silicon Valley office. From the cafés, markets, and streets of Mexico City, Bogotá, and Buenos Aires — where language actually happens.
Our goal is for you to not need us anymore. When you're ordering in French, flirting in Italian, arguing with your partner in Spanish — that's when we've won.
Teaching languages? See Project Fluency for Teachers →