it
turns out that i can still discover new things about myself - the
idea that i could survive this lifestyle without groupmails (despite my
own personal diary) was completely un-thought-out...
admittedly, january has been considerably emotion-packed, crazy-living,
freaking AWESOME (think Napolean Dynamite); the agitated disjointedness
of this email is only a small indicator of how *full* i am (of life,
that is,) at the moment. in the last few weeks, i´ve learnt so much
about living, people, and ultimately, myself, that if i was a dog, my
tail would be wagging so hard that i could make a milkshake if
submerged in a dairy vat.
for
someone who loves languages so much, it´s refreshing to realise that
the understanding between people is often independent of shared grammar
or vocabulary. what´s more, it´s quite liberating to learn that this
type of understanding has no set timeframe: for example, i feel closer
to certain people after spending barely 3 weeks with them than to
others who i might´ve seen on a daily basis for years.
i
recently spent some time camping in the backyard of a family who had,
materially speaking, very little. nevertheless, i think that the love,
respect and support that existed between the family members could teach
the greater majority of the ´developed world´ a thing or two. Fabia,
the woman of the house, is a 17yo looking after her 2 kids and running
the campsite administration, while her partner, Dario, is working to
support the parents plus the group of 4 or 5 nephews/nieces who often
stay with them because of personal reasons. in the time that i was
there, Fabia´s father was hospitalised due to alcohol abuse, and i felt
so useless knowing that there was probably very little that anyone
could do, since he was so far gone. i was with an 18yo ´travel-buddy´
at the time, and the surrealism of the latter´s interruption to ask if
there were any good clubs in town while Fabia was telling me about the
family´s short-term plans to relocate (to the town where the hospital
was), would´ve made Dalí proud.
one
thing that was ´taught´ to me in the last year, but i´ve only really
put into practice recently is that true love is completely
unconditional. you can´t always get what you want, but if you give
without fear, bitterness, or apprehension, you get more back than you
could ever imagine. i had an argument last year with someone who told
me that when you arrive at essential love, there´s no longer a
difference between familial/friendship/romantic love. i´m still not
entirely convinced, but i´m thinking more and more along those lines.
it
always makes me smile when i see random communities being set up
without people even realising it. a truckie who does his regular route
up to 6 times a week will recognise the truckies doing their own
respective routes in the other direction, and it´s refreshing to see
them flashing their lights, or exchanging friendly honks in the 3
seconds it takes to sight and pass each other. we´re talking about
comradely bonding between people who know absolutely *nothing* of each
others´ lives, except that ´on tuesdays and thursdays, that bearded
blond driving the Cruz del Sur tanker will probably cross my path
somewhere between the towns of Caleta Olivia and Fitz Roy´.
i
sometimes wonder why it´s so hard for men to be ´good´ fathers. i
wouldn´t say that *everyone* i know has issues with their father, but
the percentage is scarily close to 70 or 80%. whether it´s a father who
works so much that he forgets to enjoy his family, or one who spends so
much time frolicking with the kids that he forgets that mula doesn´t
grow on trees… is it so hard to find a compromise? or
is it just because most mothers do such a good job, that we expect too
much from the menfolk? if anyone cares to share personal theories or
offer different experiences, please, my inbox will be waiting..
in the meantime, play fair and without fear!
(more photos: 'verano de locura' gallery)
