FINAL POST: Reflections on the Journey

FINAL POST

  I've now been back in Reno for nearly three whole days.  This will be my final post, and I hope it is enough of a climax for my dedicated readers.  The final thoughts on my trip live mostly in my head, and will continue to ripen as I proceed with the next chapter in life.  I've nearly finished getting used to life as it exists here in the U.S. again, but not quite.  Plus, I've begun the hectic race to become gainfully employed again, so no time to muse at the grand significance of the last three months in more than short spurts.  BUT, without further ado, here are the final thoughts from my first trip far, far away from home.

I.  Things I've learned or Things that have become true

- Reno is home.  The chances are good that I'll move off to work and live elsewhere and the chances are almost certain that I'll take more trips out of the country.  But whenever I say I'm going home, that's Reno.  I suppose I already knew that, but it was reaffirmed.

- Trips like this one are my newest budding addiction.  There is no doubt that I will continue to drop off the grid like that every year or every other year until I'm forced, by way of kids, a wife or another heavy obligation, to stop.

- I've learned a hundred examples of where to go and where to not return.  Definitely going back to Brazil another few times.  Chile was my favorite so far.  Perú was fantastic as well, although I will never return to Lima unless I'm forced to catch a plane to or from there.  Arequipa and Cuzco, Perú were great, but I don't think I feel the need to revisit Machu Picchu.  Maybe.

- I've learned what equipment is necessary and what is not.  I took way too many clothes and shoes, and ended up giving away two pairs of shoes, a jacket, some pajama pants and some shorts.  I took too much paper.  For some reason, I thought I'd be writing for at least an hour a day.  Granted, I had many ideas for writing material, but there just isn't time to long-hand them.  Just jot the idea, rough draft only, and save it for later.  Also too many books.  The backpack I took was adequate as far as storage space, but wasn't designed for the hours of carrying to which I subjected it.  Andy's Osprey backpack was rugged, huge, stood upright on its own, and had a perfect back and strap design for heavy duty use.

- On a similar note, I know what different things I would have brought.  Andy had the great idea of taking a GPS device, which is an idea I like.

- I learned, the hard way, that it pays to do research beforehand.  So that one doesn't get to Los Angeles and get sent back due to not having the correct visa, for example.

- I learned to, pardon the term, cut the crap.  I don't feel the need to play games with people, beat around the bush, hedge my comments with excessive politeness, or hide my feelings on a subject.  Especially with servers or people selling me things and services, I feel the need to assert my rights more than I ever did before.  If one gives an inch of leeway or weakness there, one gets ripped off nicely.  It's a little different here in the States, but the principle is the same.

- I feel much tougher, for lack of a better word.  I don't feel like I need privacy, toilet seats, quite place to sleep, a soft and comfortable bed, clean clothes, a clue as to where I am, a computer, television, constant involvement by others into my well-being, and lots of money.

- I've learned that books, musical instruments, playing cards, drawing, writing and socializing are much better than T.V. any day.

- Traveling is amazing.  Vacation is boring.  I'm not the type to go piss away six hours drunk on a beach and just sit poolside.  I want to get up and see things, meet people, and go into the local bars and not the tourist-friendly ripoff bars.  I always prefer to walk rather than be driven somewhere and it's always a better experience to do things the unconventional way.  In short, you won't find me in Cancun or Cabo San Lucas anytime soon. 

II.  Things I will dearly miss:

- Obviously, having no punch card or boss is nice.  No agenda, no obligations, only opportunities to explore and learn.  

- Having no cell phone.  After only two days back in Reno, I already hate my cell phone.  For the first week in Brazil I had "phantom" cell phone syndrome where I thought I felt a vibration in my pocket.

- I'll miss the way people live very intimately in the places I visited.  The quarters are closer, the families often live all together with three generations, and neighbors all seem to be in business together.  Men meeting each other either hug or embrace hands and arms with both sides, and women meeting kiss both cheeks of the other.

- The crazy, living streets of Brazil.

- The amazing mix of cultures in Brazil.

- The sensational, fit, tan bodies of Brazilian women.

- The ocean (it doesn't matter which one, i saw them both).

- Being exhausted from trying so hard to understand Brazilian Portuguese.

- Knowing with unfailing certainty that I will sleep soundly all night.

- Getting stared at.

- Everything being so cheap, especially the ice cream, the late night burgers, shish kabobs, sausage french fries, and the beer.

- Not having to drive, I loathe traffic.

- The fruit.

- The many delicious foods I ate while there.  Ceviche, açaí, cupuaçú, acarajé, farofa, empanadas, menus completos, arroz con mariscos (seafood rice), and many others.

- The bakeries that bake hundreds of smaller loaves of bread or individual pieces so that one doesn't have to buy plastic-wrapped, pre-sliced loaves.

- The many cocktails and snacks I tried.  Caipirinhas, Cachassa, Caipiroskas, Chilean wines, Inca Cola, chicha blanca, and many others.

- Chilean Spanish.

- Being a minority.

- Being a guest.

- Not knowing a single person in a new town.

- Learning my way around a big, new place and making it my neighborhood.

- Being a celebrity almost everywhere.

- Being taller than fully seventy-five percent of all the people.  Especially in Perú.

III.  Things I won't miss at all:

- Having to have my own toilet paper all the time.  Public restrooms charge a fee for their use and STILL there is no toilet paper sometimes.  Also, even though it's no big deal, I won't miss sitting on the can without a toilet seat.  I saw only one toilet seat in all of Perú.  

- Not being able to flush the paper.

- Cold showers, even in a hostel I had to pay for.

- Everybody calling me amigo (usually means they're trying to sell me something).  Sorry, guy, I'm not your friend.  I'm your total stranger and you're in my face.

- Getting stared at.

- Pickpockets.  In Brazil.

- Weird exchange rates and having to crunch numbers in my head to convert to USD.

- Being on a budget.

- Not earning any money, only spending it.

- Poor people on the streets holding out their hands and moving their mouths without making sound.  There's not even a back story or a sad sack story, they just bluntly want you to put money in their hand.  Come ON, at least say you have three kids to feed or your house was ruined by the earthquake or something.  Creativity is rewarded, lethargy is not.

- The bus stations and busses of South America (and their crummy, excessively loud movies, malodorous passengers, obnoxious children, pushy street vendors that are actually allowed on the busses to swarm you with snacks, and inept ticket salespeople).  

- Not getting to drive, I love driving.

- A total lack of hamburgers, burritos, Sam Adams, Fumé Blanc wine, Martinis, White Russians, Doritos corn chips, guacamole (that's right, no guacamole because no decent refrigeration almost anywhere we went), Brie and Gouda cheese, 

- Everything closes at 11:00.

- Not having my drums.

- Having a limited circle of friends.  Don't get me wrong, Andy and Pat are two extremely close friends.  Spending 8 weeks with only the same two people makes one anxious to mix it up with others.

- Good ol' English.

- The flies and the fleas of South America.  Vicious little blighters, aren't they?

- Not having nice clothes in which I can get dressed up.  I missed my ironed collared shirts and my suit SO much.

- Having to pay to use the internet.  Then when you're in there, the keyboards are terrible, the headphones rarely work, the internet is slow, and there are always kids in there playing some obnoxious online game and making way too much noise.

  If you want the Reader's Digest version of what I learned, here it is:  the world is big and life is short.  If one wants to be recognized, as I do, it takes tenacity and work.  No more sleeping in for me, I have things to DO, you know?  Eliminate TV, commit to a minimum of one hour a day of writing, reading, or learning, stay fit, practice Spanish and learn more Portuguese/Russian/Morse/Greek/Sign Language every day, stay in touch with my family and friends, and drop the bad habits of the past.  That's the plan.

  I've always enjoyed writing what's in my head, and it may one day become my fortune.  This blog has helped me keep it together sometimes and has helped me to remember everything.  The experience seems large and collective until I reread what I wrote.  It gave me a chore to do every day, which strangely enough I love.  It's impossible to know exactly how many people have been reading along with my journey, but I hope you enjoyed it.  I'm quite blessed to be able to do something like the travel I took, and I thank my family above all.  Especially my Mom and Dad.  Close your eyes after this sentence and visualize me licking my finger, opening my book of Life, and turning the page to the next chapter.  Chapter Five, Real Life.

Brad to the Bone, signing off.  May 1st, 2009.

BG