By the end of 2011, Jaime Rogozinski, 29, had fallen into a rut. He spent his days in front of a computer screen in a windowless office at the Inter-American Development Bank in Washington, DC, where he had an unexciting job helping to maintain the endless databases of economic statistics that the executives used. After work, he took the train home to his bland condo in the suburbs that he hadn’t bothered to decorate. When he came in at night, he generally made a beeline for his bedroom, where h...