Reflections on a Year

When I said I was going traveling, people thought it was great. Some (many?) were even envious. When I said I planned on going for 5 months, I usually got looks of shock and disbelief more than anything else. Even people that go to study abroad don't normally spend that long away, let alone if you are going for a girl. The girl no longer a part of the picture, I headed out on my own to explore the world, and I have now passed the one year mark. Still going strong, I am intent on making my way back on bus, racking up the days and miles on my long journey back home. After a year out of the country, the majority of it spent on the road, I decided I might reflect on my time spent throughout South America.

The thing is, I don't know exactly where to start or what to focus on. There are the odd experiences, though a complete compilation would likely take a better part of my day to create and your day to read. Some that come to mind, however, include finding a chicken foot in my soup, shaving with a swiss army knife, or spending 36 hours on a bus traversing half a continent. Other's cultural norms have become my own, like unwillingly becoming part of a game of freeway chicken everytime one takes a taxi, becoming a real-life frogger in daily street crossings, and accepting the fact that some things just don't work most of the time and there ain't nothin' you can do about it any the time. Some will remain strange, like watching grown women pop a squat in the middle of the street or men relieve themselves on walls/lampposts, both unabashedly. I have broken records on the amount of people and things, living or otherwise, that can possibly be packed into a van. My concept of personal space has been gradually and forcibly changed by by the afore mentioned bus rides, coupled with heavy eyed strangers nodding off onto my shoulders. Life can sometimes revolve around toilette paper, which I worry about having with me at all times more than I do my passport, and upon returning, I am sure I will quickly wear out my welcome when I throw my used TP into friend's waste baskets rather than flushing it down (apologies in advance). Red brick sky-lines, smoking cars, and chaos have become normal, as have smiling faces, friendly hellos, and help happily offered.

I could switch directions, and elaborate on the more serious and profound issues that have presented themselves, as my eyes have been open to a world that I didn't know existed, the realities of which I never understood. I now understand how filthy rich I am and how dirt poor others live; I know the blessing of progress and the hopelessness brought about by perpetual (political, economical, or otherwise) failure; I see how our selfish, greedy ways of making sure we get ours gauruntees that others lack theirs. One does not understand the incredible blessing of basic priveleges bestowed upon oneself as a matter of birth until scenes of people destitute on the street, unable to find work, become part of one's daily life. This destitution, mind you, brought about not by lack of personal attributes or ambition, but the mere result of the reproductive lottery of which we all partook. I have been seen throught the lenses of racial stereotypes, an uncomfortable and unpleasant experience. I have worn the same 2 pants, 1 pair of shorts, and perhaps 6 shirts for over a year now, yet I am humbled when I realize this is perhaps just short of a full wardrobe for some families of four, not just for a year, but until the ragged rags must be replaced when time necesitates rather than after some arbitrary space of time.

Whatever I happen upon as I explore this nook of the world - amusing or sober, simple or profound - it always, in some way, teaches me. My beliefs, my values, my faith, and my habits are challenged and shaped by those that I see and speak to, whether it be the old man holding out a hand for aid with a beaming 3 tooth smile, the straight-toothed westerner sharing with me their view of the world, or everyone else in between. It is the characters, after all, that give travel its character, and make it memorable.

Alas, I feel my words will probably remain just that, mere words. Though possibly evoking smiles or, incredously, cause for reflection, they will never in anyway be able to convey to you the meaning that I deduced from the experiences themselves.

So my advice? Go out and see the world for yourself.

Travel, experience, learn, and live.

It's crazy, I'm thinking, just knowing that the world is round,
And here I'm dancing on the ground,
Am I right side up or upside down?
And is this real, or am I dreaming?

- Crush, Dave Matthews Band