For better or worse, this report is going to be different than the rest. I'm not going to ramble on about how amazing Ecuador is, put up pictures of wildly-colored tropical birds, or bemoan and simultaneously praise the worn and yet content faces of a hard-working people.
Instead, I'm going to complain about how I've grown tired of the great privilege of my extended travel.
I am suffering greatly from a bout of being unimpressed and generally uninterested in what I'm doing this week. I don't think it's Ecuador, I'm just tired and growing weary of bouncing from place to place, looking for meaning in something new and different from home. The last week has worn on like this, "...another town, another city, another monument, another plane, another bus..." I'm having trouble continuing to find excitement in all this ongoing movement. I have been sleeping in a strange bed every night for almost 4 months, and I'm not looking forward to the strange bed I'll be sleeping in tonight.
And let's please not write this off as a simple case of "home-sickness". That's too easy and obvious. This is something else. I don't long for home, per say - you could barely argue that I have one (the city of LA, yes, family and friends, of course, but there is no address, no specific four walls that call to me) - so there is no home to miss in that regard. This is a case of being exhausted of traveling and lacking purpose in that travel, a case of honestly wondering what I'm doing in Ecuador. I wish I could tell you. And I'm reluctant to describe anything I've seen in the past week for fear it will be tainted by this cloud of indifference hanging over my head. I'm inclined to tell you that Quito is a real s**t-hole, but it's probably not, I just can't see that right now. On second thought, actually, it totally is. Sorry, Quito. You're a s**t-hole.
When I left for NZ, I was full of purpose and direction, happy to pack up my belongings, invigorated with a sense of adventure and exploration. And really, NZ was the fulfillment of a 5-year dream, something I had studied many late nights, had talked about exhaustively with patient friends, researched and planned, waited for the moment, and ultimately ached for so fully that the fulfillment of that dream became inevitable. But Ecuador? I can't figure out why I'm here.
Okay, here's one thing: I stood on the equator yesterday. That was kind of cool. I watched water swirl down a drain in opposite directions not 5 feet from each other, on either side of a red line painted on the ground. I balanced an egg on the head of a nail driven into the center of that red line. Consolation prizes, though.
So I guess the real treasure of the past days has been the people I've connected with. There's Jody, the India-born CPA and Michael the American-born draft-dodger and mirror de-fogger salesman, both from Canada and both very sweet and intensely spiritual people. There's Heather, the California girl studying abroad here, and her genteel father who's visiting for 3 weeks, and her very interesting boyfriend, Jack. Jack is a character. We went out for a handful of beers last night and he told me his story, or some of it, and this guy is a testament to the human spirit. He's 24. His father is Nigerian and his mother South African. He left Africa a few years ago in search of a better life, put plainly enough. He went first through Russia, then Cuba (these were easy countries for him to obtain a visa). In Cuba, he was sleeping on the beach and was attacked and robbed in the middle of the night, every penny and every possession taken from him. He begged for food in the streets. He eventually got the Nigerian government to send him some money, and he used that to come to Ecuador. I asked him if he didn't consider just going home at that point, and this was what impressed me about him: of course he did, but to go home from there would have been to admit failure, and he wanted to persist forward. Forward to where or towards what exactly, he didn't then and doesn't now know, but he tells me that he loves Heather, believes in God and Fate, doesn't like Quito anymore, and dreams to go to Australia one day, among other places. He's a professional soccer player here now - walked onto a field and begged to train with the team until the coach agreed and ultimately discovered that he's actually really good. This guy impressed me. I gave him my contact information and told him if I could ever help him in any way, to simply email me. And Michael, the mirror defogger guy, has really challenged me this week, intellectually and spiritually both. We've had a number of lengthy, in-depth conversations about "the nature of things,"so to speak. The conversations have gone to some great places, never too "out there", always grounded in conventional philosophies, but have really made me consider my own beliefs and forced me to remember some of the important events in my life that have shaped those beliefs.
And there is a bright light just ahead for my continued travels. Tomorrow morning I jump a plane to Panama. I am actually really looking forward to this. My grandmother was born in Panama, emigrated to the states when she was 22, and that part of my family heritage has always held a special place in my sense of identity, and yet in my life, I've never been there, despite having made 4 trips to Costa Rica, the country directly next door. The family she keeps in touch with has been to L.A. on several occasions, met the Joneses, their gringo relatives, and some of the CA family has been there to visit them, but not me. So now it's my turn and I'm really looking forward to connecting with them, and this part of me. I'll probably be a week in Panama City, and then head for the white-sand, crystal-water beaches further North and try to get some surfing in before I come home.
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