Turning the page
It´s been almost 6 months since I stepped off the plane in Quito, with clean clothes and wide eyes. Now I have 1 day left in South America. Soon I will be back in Nelson, my home, back to people and places I left what seems like such a long time ago. Poised to turn the page, to begin writing the next chapter, and it´s time to draw this journey to a close, time to reflect on the events and forces that over the last half year have irreversibly marked and shaped my life.
Looking at photos of me from my first day in Ecuador is like looking into the face of someone you recognize but forget how you know them. Physically similar. Beard a little thicker, now bearing a tattoo, a few more scars. Eyes a little colder perhaps. Travelers eyes, seeing more, revealing less, older. But I am a stranger to what was in his head, the boy who left home ignorant and scared but open to change. His mind was different, priorities lay in different places, thoughts moved down different paths, emotions and assumptions ruled unchecked. 6 months later, a little older, a little wiser, drawing the tale to an end.
By leaving my home, the people and places I found security in, by losing my language and my culture, I finally found myself.
Nearly 6 months since the first hesitant Spanish words cloaked in a thick Kiwi accent, 6 months since the young eyes, the nervous smiles. Living in a foreign house, eating and thinking and doing and saying foreign things. These slowly became my reality and with no one to remind of who I was, I became a stranger to my self, I began to change.
On the commune, 1 month in, still feeling so young. The place where the dislocation and discontent was gently laid to rest, where the disparate threads of my self began to be weaved together. 5 months since I started to listen to my heart.
I ditched the casual shoes and clothes, casting off the first fetters. Tramping boots and Khaki pants. The bag grew lighter, the Spanish more fluent, the hair longer and the ear stretchers bigger. My arm was tattooed, an important branding, marking this point in my life, claiming this body as the property of my soul.
I crossed into Colombia 3 months passed. Fewer gringos, more Spanish, less security, greater freedom. Vague plans and plenty of time. Shaped by its beauty, the kindness of its people, its pervasive bittersweet pain. Now I had begun to travel.
A flight to Leticia. The jungle entered me as I entered it, it is in my blood now, with me always. Boarder crossings and boats. 2 and a half months ago. Days and nights on the river. A month of maturing in the Amazon, robbed and tricked and led blindly by the hand. Hardening and finding my own two feet. Learning to trust again, to sort the truth from the lies, the parasites from the friends, learning to observe. Exploring discomfort, pushing the boundaries, being made to look deeply inside. Aknowledging my deamons with open arms. A revelation and a healing to set me down the middle path.
A month and a half remaining and into the hills again, parting ways with a good friend who taught me so much, alone on the road again. Drawing together and balancing, a winding way through the highlands to the Sacred Valley. A half built hostel, a rentted room, cooking over a can of fuel. Welcomed into a community, sharing and peaceful growth.
Western Bolivia, only 3 weeks left, slowing down, quiet observation, taking my time, no need to rush. A refreshing walk in the hills, a much needed return to silence. Dealing with sickness and ill health and paranoia, keeping my head above the waters. Recovery and a return to good spirits.
The final week, with a long and rapid migration across Peru to the heart of the concrete city. Trying to hold the calm of the rocks and mountain streams against the ceaseless, pointless, peace drowning noise. Reflecting, Recollecting, Connecting.
My changing philosophy has formed the travels that have been forming it.
Taking responsibility at last. For my actions, my words, my thoughts, my life. No longer fleeing down the path of blame. No longer hurling the hot coal of anger or hiding behind the barrier of arrogant assumption.
Less expectations, more flexibility. Living more, with less. Seeing things a little better for what they truly are, unobscured by prejudice. Truly aware of how little I know, and how much I have to improve on.
Learning to be open to others while guarding myself from the manipulators and exploiters. It´s taken many hard lessons to reach this point.
Through travel I have realized the only action comes from within, all decisions and choices are ultimately influenced by me. I am my own man. Acting with greater direction and purpose and being aware now of the confusion and stagnation caused by procrastination.
Less concerned about the destination and focused more on the journey. Thrust into the present, life is so fragile and fleeting and many live it through a haze. All I really have is the here and now and to live exclusively in the memories of the past or the fantasies of the future is to never truly live. And to borrow words from a toilet wall, realizing when you have no home, everywhere is home, when you know no one, everyone can be a friend, when you have no expectations, everything is meant to be. The feeling of completeness when returning to my pack after a few days away, from knowing that everything I need is slung on my back and all roads lie open to me. Responsible only for myself, ultimate and untainted freedom. Learning to let go, to walk away without a backwards glance.
Exploring hedonism, selfishness, pleasure, pain, fear, loneliness, abandonment, exhaustion, comfort, discomfort. Being hated and threatened and blackmailed and doubted and trusted and helped and befriended and loved. Broken and cast down and standing up and walking on. Sometimes being the deep rooted oak and other times the wind tossed leaf. Being pulled apart and reassembled, feeling completely in touch with all preceding experience and the infinite possibility lying ahead. Ultimate presence. Diving deep into the rabbit hole and coming back again.
Living, truly living.
Its hard to sum up the trip in one word. I can't honestly say its been fun, for there has been pain and pleasure in equal mesure. It has been hard at times, being alone and isolated from your language, your culture, your people, at times it has been dark, really dark. And then seeing my aloneness for independence, and the ensuing feelings of freedom and strength have been overwhelimg. So I will simple says it has been an Experience. A very valuable experience that I do not regret for an instant. But soon I will be home, and my travels in South America only a memory. A beautiful expansive memory. A dream from which I am waking. So with the lessons I have learnt, the places and people and experiences burnt into my mind, I will go on my way, and see what this new day brings.
