melomakarona

Break from the Break

Traveling can become repetitive.

Especially if you have been doing it the way I have done it. Nearly 18 months of continuous travel wears you down. Looking for a roof over your head every single night, eating what’s available (or isn’t), walking for miles with a heavy backpack in the burning sun (or freezing cold), hitching hundreds of rides, and meeting new people all the fucking time…

I mean, it’s just sad to hear my own voice telling the same story over and over and over again. Answering to the same questions for the thousandth time.

Traveling can become boring.

I could of course make it a bit more interesting for myself, by coming up with a new story each time I get on a new ride or meet a new person. But I’m just not that good of a liar creative storyteller. I would mix things up and probably end up confusing myself, so I always stick to the same story.

Sometimes I wish I had a travel buddy, then we could take turns. You do the hitching and talking today. I just want to sit in the backseat and sleep. But then I would be stuck with this companion and lose all my freedom. So that’s why I’ve always continued alone. But traveling alone is tough. Always be on guard. Always being the one to raise my thumb. Always be the one to talk with the drivers. Always having to carry all your shit in the toilet with you…

I am tired.

Exhausted of it all. Endless coastline. Gorgeous deserted beaches at my doorstep. Coconut water galore. Sunshine every fucking day. I am just bored of all this. I mean what sane person wants to sip coconut juice in a hammock overlooking the Atlantic EVERY SINGLE DAY?

I have had it.

I need to get away from Paradise – a break from my break.

So, I decide it’s time to say sayonara to this place. This place being Brazil. And to South America in general. My Latin American Adventure has reached its final chapter.

It has been a crazy journey. When I set out, I had no idea what was going to happen. And now, looking back, I still can’t believe some of the shit that did happen. For example, getting a kiss in a pickup, crossing that freaking Darien Gap, BOLIVIA, and being chased away by the bat-shit-crazy ex, But boy, am I glad those things happened. It made my journey all the more memorable.

Pachamama – thank you for guiding me on the longest and toughest journey of my life. Hitching out of Cancun Airport that 23^rd of September 2011, I had no clue as to where the road would take me. But now, hitching into Salvador Airport in Brazil nearly a year and a half later, I am so fucking proud of myself. For having persevered. For never giving up. For never losing hope. For never losing patience. For always staying positive. For saying fuck you to the people who told me not to hitch in Central & South America because it’s too dangerous for a solo traveling girl and go ahead and follow my heart and instinct and hitch all those fucking amazing (and a few less amazing) rides anyways!

What a privilege it was to wander the roads of this part of the world. I have seen so much beauty in the most unlikely of places. I will be back, but for now, I am lowering my thumb.   

Stop for a girl who hitchhikes

Stop for a girl who hitchhikes. Stop for a girl with an adventurous spirit who isn’t afraid to leave her comfortzone. Someone who loves the open road and lives for the unknown. A girl who prefers to raise her thumb and put her trust in strangers rather than opting for the safer bus or train route. Stop for a girl who hitchhikes because this girl has balls and she is the best kind of companion you could ever imagine.

You’ll find her at at a gasstation or truck stop. You may also see her at the edge of town, near an on- or off ramp, zebra crossing, speedbump or stoplight since she knows those are the best places to catch rides. She won’t be waiting at a busterminal (unless she is hitching a bus) or trainstation (unless she is trainhopping) It’s also unlikely you will find her at an airport (unless of course she is hitching a plane, so if you happen to be a pilot – give her a flight!) No, a girl who hitchhikes prefers to travel overland as thát’s the way to truly really experience the journey. After all, a girl who hitchhikes knows it’s not the destination, but the journey that matters.

You’ll know it’s her because she carries a backpack and maybe even a sign saying “Tokyo” or “South” or something more specific like “Anywhere but here”. She will wear hiking boots that look so worn down because of all the places she has been and all the miles she has hiked. She might try to catch your attention by juggling, dancing, or simply smiling and thumbing alongside the road.

Stop for a girl who hitchhikes as she will talk your ears off detailing all her travels and adventures. She will tell you about that one time when she got stuck for 22 hours – in the freezing cold – near the Argentina – Chile border. And that time in Nicaragua when a crazy truckdriver took her for a ride. And then that time when her ride took her to skinnydip in stingray infested waters. And of course about how she managed to hitch the freaking Darien Gap and all those Bolivian drivers!

Yes, a girl who hitchhikes has stories to tell. Plenty of them. She’ll happily share her last peanut or cookie with you to show her appreciation. You won’t get bored and definitely won’t fall asleep behind the wheel with her in the vehicle. She knows it’s her task to keep you awake and entertained. Miles will fly by. Before you realize it you have reached the point of goodbye and you could only wish you were going further or she was going closer. 

Stop for a girl who hitchhikes, because she has gone places, seen things, been in tricky situations – all of these experiences, even (or especially) the not so pleasant ones have taught her many lessons. The most important lesson of all: no matter how hopeless the situation may look at the time – somebody will eventually stop and everything will be fine in the end.

Stop for a girl who hitchhikes. She may have been in a lot of vehicles and met a lot of people, but even the few miles you take her can make a lasting impression. A girl who hitchhikes feels grateful for every person who ever took the time and trust to give her a lift. She appreciates your worrying about her when you drop her off, but she also knows that her next ride will come along…soon. After all, there are plenty of good people like you who choose to stop for a girl who hitchhikes.

Find a girl who hitchhikes as she is totally worth the miles. So the next time you see a girl who hitchhikes, stop for her, and give her a ride. You may think that the short distance you can take her doesn’t matter much. But those few miles she spends with you mean the world to her. Because you just proved once again that there is still hope for mankind – people are good.

I wouldn’t be where I am now without you.

Wouldn’t you raise a thumb for that?

This post is inspired by Date a girl who reads by Rosemary Urquico and Date a Girl Who Travels by Aleah Taboclaon and Date a boy who travels by lainnnes.

Realities of the Road

Some people think I am the luckiest person in the world. They think my life is one long vacation.

But my life is far from a holiday.

I am not on vacation because I am permanently living on the road. I guess you could call me some sort of a nomad.

I cannot remember what it is like to not be on the constant move. To have my toothbrush sit in a cup in the bathroom rather than in my toiletry bag. To have my clothes hanging in a closet and not be wrinkled and smelly all the time. To have my photographs on the wall. To have any stuff/trace of mine in the space that I am currently occupying for that matter. To sleep in the same bed every night. To sleep in a bed at all. That kind of stuff. It is like a distant memory. 

The reality is that I am living out of a (increasingly decreasing) backpack and I do not know where I will be sleeping tonight. I am not on holiday – I am just trying to survive.

And life on the road – surprise surprise – is not easy.

First of all, there is the always present question of where am I going to sleep tonight.

There may be CouchSurfing, but it ain’t always available in the places I want to visit – the less touristic, smaller, hidden-away kind of places. Having to go through the CouchSurfing database is no fun. They might be ‘improving’ the site’s search tools, but for a simple Internet user such as myself, I prefer the straightforward navigation they once had (before they became all big and turned for profit).

So I prefer to visit smaller cities, where there are always fewer couches. And I notice the further North East I am going in Brazil, the less couches there are – big city or not.

It is one thing to search for a couch, but then I’d still have to send personalized requests to each person. I say requestS because you cannot count on that one person to actually answer ánd accept your request. Once I have finally sent the requests to the few couches on offer, all I have to do is wait.

And waiting can take a long time sometimes.

If I do get a reply, it is not always positive. When it is not, I have to start from zero and look for alternative cities and itineraries and go through the couchrequest shit again.

Long story short: this is a very time consuming (not to mention frustrating) task. A task that can only be carried out if I have Internet access.

And that’s another aspect that is not so readily available to the kind of nomad I am. I do not travel with a laptop, tablet, smartphone, phone or any of that shit. And if I did, I’d need to find Wifi (not as easy as it may sound if you’re in the remote kind of places I like to go to). Being and staying connected is kinda crucial in this whole couchsearching process – so the lack of a device and Internet access may make my couch finding a bit more complicated.

But let’s say that I managed to find a couch in this nice village. The next step is find a way to get there. One thing I could do is to googlemap it and see the fastest/shortest route – that is if I still have some minutes left on the old-skool-dial-up Internet access áfter I have send out a million requests and checked my emails. Most of the time though, I just have to wing it. I hit the road at dawn, walk in the direction I want to go and…raise my thumb. Sometimes this involves miles and miles of hiking, other times when I am lucky, just a few miles. BUT just because a car/truck stops for me that does not mean that I have found my ride. I need to check the driver first. Where is he going? How far is he going? Is he drunk? Does he look like he is going to touch me? In short: Is he worth my time for the x amount of miles he is going in my direction?…All questions I need to ask myself, in that few seconds of smalltalk I have with him before I make a decision. If he does not pass my imaginary questionnaire, I wait for the next ride. Or the ride thereafter.

So let’s say I found my ride and I am inside the car/truck going x amount of miles in the direction I want to go.

Now continues the smalltalk. But now he starts to ask questions. Where are you from? How old are you? Are you really traveling alone? Aren’t you afraid? Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? Do you want a boyfriend? What do you do? Etc…etc…(not necessarily in this order. But most of the time it ís in that order)

After I have answered all his questions and have told him my whole life story, it is already time to get out, because this driver is only going partly my way. If I am lucky I get dropped off in a decent hitchhiking spot. If I am not, I hike some miles more till I reach one. There I raise my thumb again. And repeat the whole cycle. On a given day I could catch up to TWELVE  rides, depending where/how far I am going. If I am really lucky, still the least amount of rides I need is 3 – 4 (this includes a ride out of the city I am leaving as well as into the city I am going – getting dropped off near or at my preferred address).

And then when I do finally make it to my couch…I tell my story once again. And again. And again. Because unfortunately for me, I do not meet my host and their friends and family all at once. No I meet them in parts. And each time I meet another friend or family member, I get to answer all their exciting questions again and tell my exciting story again.

Imagine having to answer the same questions and telling the same story 3 – 12 times a day to the drivers. Add to that 2 – 10 (depending on the amount of family members or friends) more times of same ol’ story and question answering.

Imagine having to hear your own voice telling the same ol’ story over and over again…it gets a little bit repetitive to say the least.

Now imagine having to do all this nearly EVERY DAY for the past EIGHTEEN MONTHS.

…

Not exactly what one thinks of when referring to a relaxing holiday, not?

Do not get me wrong. I cannot complain. I am loving my life. But maybe this gives you an idea of why I have been on hiatus for the last zillion months. Not because I have nothing to write. Simply because I have no energy and/or Internet time left to do so.

I was just busy living. I suggest you do the same.

PS. Do come back next week – I have a fresh post waiting for you!

Guess who’s back?

Dear Readers,

My apologies for the un-announced hiatus.

I was kinda busy living/surviving and all.

Obviously, I survived and I am back in the virtual world (for now). I will brighten your days once more with my silly ramblings, photographs and whatnot.

So, sit tight and make sure you keep on coming back over the following weeks – a lot of (un) interesting posts are due to follow!

melomakarona.

Walk the Talk.

People always tell me what an awesome life I have.

No permanent job. Traveling the World. Learning new languages. Meeting different kinds of people. Eating exotic foods…

They say how jealous they are and wish they could see the World too.

“I wish I could do what you do, BUT I have a job/school/wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend/children/dog/cat/
cockroach/house/mortgage/car/plants/playstation/Facebook”
or whatever other reason they cannot leave behind. But those reasons are mere excuses. Bull-shit excuses.

And the biggest bull-shit excuse of them all is: “I don’t have money.”

I started this Latin American journey in Mexico with $200 cash in my well hidden pocket. And now 17 months later, I am in Brazil and hey, I made it here overland, haven’t slept a night outside or died of hunger. And those $200 are still there. 

So yeah, it really is possible to travel the World with very little money. 

You can always use your talents (whether it be your musical, artistic, and/or sexual skills. Just kidding about the latter one. Or maybe not, if that really is your gift) to make some quick cash on the road. But you could also stop a little longer and do some volunteering or work exchange which will not only help to prolong your travels, but you get a valuable insight into the culture and country you’re temporary living.

So money really is no excuse to not live the life of your dreams. If your dream is to travel and see the world, the only two things you do need is TIME and GUTS. 

When I say TIME, I don’t mean time in the way most people with their ‘busy’ lifes and ‘hectic’ schedules take to understand it. With TIME, I mean BEING ALIVE/LIVING.

If you are reading this, it means you have TIME.

The next ingredient you need is GUTS, You do need guts if you want to travel the way I do. I do not need it, cause I already have trust. But YOU need guts first to trust. 

So there you go, that’s my ‘secret’ as to how I manage to live the life I do - travel and see the world on a low budget. All you need is time and guts. 

And my friends, time is all I have gut. 

Let me tell the people (and I’m talking about those peope who say they really aspire the kind of life I am living, not those who just say they want it but don’t really mean it) who keep insisting they don’t have the money or time or any other kind of explanation to not pursue the life they say they want: it is just a cop-out, for what you are really lacking is guts.

You don’t have the guts.

You may say you want my life and that ‘one day’, you will have earned enough money, left that job, ditched that girl- or boyfriend, sold your belongings and hit the road, but honestly, I don’t think you ever will.

I don’t think you want my life at all.

You are way too comfortable with the life you are currently living. You may not be happy with your life. You are probably bored to death with the routine. But routine is secure. And security is safe. And we all know how tough it is to leave your comfort zone, now don’t we?

I mean, what person in their right mind would choose to give up all the luxuries to live out of a 5kg backpack and not know where they are going to sleep tonight because the road is their home now?

It you really wanted my life, you wouldn’t be telling me or anyone else about how badly you want it. No, you would actually be out there making it yours already.

On Guts and Trust.

People always tell me how CRAZY brave I am for doing what I do - traveling the way I do.

Hitchhiking. Alone. As a Girl. In ‘Third World Countries’ where Machismo rules.

I never considered myself courageous. Spiders creep me out. And I’m not even talking about the Tarantula kind. No, even the itty bitty tiniest 8 legged monster scares the shit out of me. So no, I really don’t think I am that daring of a person.

But why then are people awe-struck when they meet me and hear my stories?

Frankly, I think it is because they are cowards. I am not brave, you are just a chicken, A cute baby chick maybe, but you are still a chicken. 

You are too afraid to trust.

I trust the Universe loves me. I trust today will be a beautiful day, regardless of whether the sun shines or it rains. I trust the rides will come easy. I trust I will have interesting conversations with the drivers. I trust I will arrive at my destination without incident. That’s how I choose to stand in this life - I trust in people.

Maybe I should not always give my trust so easily to ‘stangers’, as sometimes it does get me into tricky situations. But I’d rather go through life with a positive attitude than somebody who always thinks of the worst that can happen and never trusting anyone. Never acknowledging or accepting any invitations from strangers. If I was that kind of a person, I would have missed one of the most beautiful encounters of all… 

—————————————————————————————————————

Strolling around Cusco’s (Peru) busy central market - and enjoying all the smells, sights and sounds - all of a sudden there is this commotion. People enter the building and block the exits. This is some kind of gathering of some group of people. And they are having their debate right there in the center of Central Market. 

Not understanding too much about what’s going on - but not worried either - I try and see if any of the six exits are open, but unluckily for me, none is. 

“Are you trying to look for a way out as well?” I hear a voice from behind me ask. 

“Well, yes I am. But all of the exits are blocked!”

“I guess, that gives us more time to look at what the market has to offer,” the boy says with a smile.

I meet Christiano. A 19 year old student from Arequipa, visiting family in Cusco. We walk circles around the market like another 16 times before they finally open the doors. But in the meantime we learn a great deal about eachother. This boy is sweet. He is so sweet that he invites me to stay with him and his family when he learns I have nowhere to stay for the night. I gratefully accept. 

By the time I get my backpack and we reach his house, the family is already asleep. I don’t even get to meet his two younger sisters. Mom gets up to welcome me and shows me where I’ll be sleeping that night -

In the bed with her seven year old daughter. 

That’s right, she let a total stranger -  a person she met literally a minute ago - share the bed with her seven year old daughter. 

She TRUSTED a total stranger to share the bed with her seven year old daughter.

Then she crawls back into her bed cuddling up to her husband. Christiano joins little sister of 17 on the mattress on the floor. I observe as this scene unfolds right in front of my eyes. 

Right in front of my eyes, because we are all sharing one room. As their humble house comprises of this room only. This is the room the girls study and play in during the day, the room they watch TV in, cook and eat in as well as sleep in. And now they are sharing their home with a total stranger like me.

As I close my eyes to fall in a warm sleep that night, a few tears escape.

—————————————————————————————————————

How could I not trust in strangers, when they trust in me?

I don’t have guts, I have trust.

Some may say that you need guts to trust strangers. That may be so.

But I would like to say the following to all the wimps in the world:

Just TRUST.*

It will change your life.

You can trust me on that.

*Obviously, don’t trust blindly! Always trust your gut instinct first!

On how I’ll end up owing the Brazilian government 828 Reais ($416). Part I.

I am not supposed to be in Brazil right now. I should have left like a few days ago. Or rather, quite a few few days ago.

Not because I don’t want to be here any longer. In fact, I love this country and want to stay as long as I can. And that’s where the whole problem started in the first place. With me wanting to stay here for as long as possible. Because ‘for as long as possible’ did not turn out to be as long as I thought it was…