Thursday, March 04, 2010

All engines on

I've been on the road before, inconsistently yet constant, a rebellious trade of my character that would not settle for a "you can't do that!"  My response to that always has been, "Oh no?  Really?. . .  Watch me".  The challenge was on, and like a cartoon of the Road Runner,  my feet kicked the dust and I just zoomed out from the ground where I happened to be standing.  I was young and I was restless.  And I wanted to mature on the road, find my purpose, and hopefully evolve.  I had the good fortune to have highly permissive parents. After all, they couldn't repress me, nor stop me. . . .

I sailed from Buenos Aires, donned a backpack and headed north, never looking back.  All my senses were alert, and the taste of freedom was incomparable to any other feeling in any other time.  I hitchhiked everywhere, going from city to town, crossing rivers and lakes, jungles and falls.  And the feeling was that of exhilarating elation. In order to survive,  I started to make hippie jewelry with beans and copper strings and I would sell them as I went along.  In some cases I would find a girl companion who was either running away or found in my company a good excuse to do just that.
Everybody knows that when you travel with a cute young female, your chances to get picked up grow greatly. During the trip, they would keep the drivers entertained while I slept soundly.  It worked like a charm that it was. And I'm going,, getting closer and closer to the point of no return.
Brazil was everything I expected it to be.  From now on ,I would have to reinvent myself and use every tool available for my survival.  And what an reinvention that turned out to be. . . .

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