Since a few weeks ago I have been in weird state of mind. I'm not sad or depressed, it's just that I feel weird. I feel like there is something that I'm missing or that I'm doing something wrong.
Some things are not working out the way I would like to. But on the other hand, some other things came out of nothing, in a very spontaneously way into my life and I love it! I would have never expected them. Me like it :-)
A couple of nights was the end of an era. Makes my state of mind even more weird. My havaianas finally died. They died the way I thought it was going to be: me walking around drunk. That's the way it happened. I was not supposed to go out the other night but it was my friend's last shift as he told he was quitting. He found someone to cover for him on his last shift and we went out for one.
I'm normally not attached to material posesions but this time is different. I bought the overpriced havaianas in question during my first Roskilde in 2010. I remember everything as if it was last week:
I hitchhiked with that pair of havaianas all summer 2010. I took them from Denmark to Portugal to Germany to Turkey to Slovenia. Alright, Turkey and Slovenia were in winter... I crossed the Atlantic and hitchhiked in Mexico on my way back home. Came back to Europe and took them from Poland to Hungary to Denmark to Estonia. Back in Latin America I took them through Southern Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador, briefly Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Colombia, Ecuador, Colombia, Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, through Honduras and El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Belize and Mexico. They passed away in Estonia the night of july 6th. A few things I posses had been for this long with me and to so many places. The other being my small Quechua daybag that I'm also not using anymore.
Perhaps I can fix them again...?
A couple of nights was the end of an era. Makes my state of mind even more weird. My havaianas finally died. They died the way I thought it was going to be: me walking around drunk. That's the way it happened. I was not supposed to go out the other night but it was my friend's last shift as he told he was quitting. He found someone to cover for him on his last shift and we went out for one.
I'm normally not attached to material posesions but this time is different. I bought the overpriced havaianas in question during my first Roskilde in 2010. I remember everything as if it was last week:
It was during the World Cup in South Africa, Brazil and Holland were playing. My friend Federico, a guy from the Den Gyldne Boenne and me went to watch the match at one of the camps. I had been speaking English for a few months nonstop (the only Spanish being when I called my mum). I saw a Venezuelan flag and told myself it would be nice to speak Spanish again; so I approached the group. I left barefoot (took a group sitting beside us as a landmark to find my way back) but what I didn't notice was that the match had only about 15 min left. So I walked up to the group made up from two Venezuelans, two Brazilians and two Latvian girls (one of them wanted to rape me!). The match finished and everybody stood up. It was complete mayhem! Everybody was moving. Not only I couldn't locate my "landmark", I also couldn't find my friends! I lost the knock off havaianas I bought in Costa Rica the year before. Long story short: I walked back the 2ish km back to the Boenne. Then walked to the festival grounds and bought (what I thought it was an overpriced) a pair of havaianas. It was I think exactly three years ago. The start of an era.
I hitchhiked with that pair of havaianas all summer 2010. I took them from Denmark to Portugal to Germany to Turkey to Slovenia. Alright, Turkey and Slovenia were in winter... I crossed the Atlantic and hitchhiked in Mexico on my way back home. Came back to Europe and took them from Poland to Hungary to Denmark to Estonia. Back in Latin America I took them through Southern Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador, briefly Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Colombia, Ecuador, Colombia, Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, through Honduras and El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Belize and Mexico. They passed away in Estonia the night of july 6th. A few things I posses had been for this long with me and to so many places. The other being my small Quechua daybag that I'm also not using anymore.
Perhaps I can fix them again...?
I started to read "The Accidental Adventurer" by Ben Fogle. There is a chapter titled "Still Finding Myself". Starts like this:"I returned to England a changed person. I had lived a lifetime of experiences in a year. My mind was full of possibilities and I wanted more. I wanted adventure, I wanted excitement and I wanted the freedom I'd gained from (...)". That's how I felt the first time I went back home. My version would be like this: "I returned to Guatemala a changed person. I had lived a lifetime of experiences. My mind was still in Europe and I wanted to go back and was full of thoughts, I wanted the excitement I'd gained while the previous year." Actually I feel that way everytime I go back or worse, I don't find myself. That's why I feel so related to the title of that chapter. I even wrote a entire post about this back in 2011.
I just read the April 2011 post I wrote and it not only happened in 2011, happened also when I went back in December of that same year. I had been going out with this girl I met in Krakow. I thought I was madly in love but I wasn't. Shit happens. Sorry. It was fun while it lasted. Not really the last days though. My "friends" back in Guatemala were busy with their own shit but I thought anyone can set aside 30 min in their busy schedules to meet but I was wrong. That has happened every single time I had been back. Estuardo, JuanMa and Braulio being the exceptions. Happy I got to hang out with them every time I had been back. Can't wait to do it again. Not sure when will this happen, probably not anytime soon. Or maybe soon, who knows. I don't know.
I'm still finding myself. Not being very good at it and at the same time I'm still looking for my happy place. I'm enjoying a lot my time in Tallinn this time around.
When people ask me if I'm ever going back home they seem surprised that I say that I'm not. I mean I will always go back for a visit as long as my mum is there. I don't see a reason to go back after she passes away. I don't see myself living over there anymore. I just can't. Don't know where I'll spend my days, don't know if I'll travel forever. I guess that if I find a reason, let me rephrase that: if I find someone somewhere I'll definitely give up traveling in a heartbeat. I said it before and I'll say it again: "the only thing that matters is the people (...), the hugs, the kisses (...), the actions we don't think about".
I'm really thinking if I can fix my havaianas...