3 Weeks, 1 Backpack

Not even a proper backpacker’s backpack, just a standard book bag.

Chillin' with a blowfish (pez globo in Spanish)

I am now in the comfort of my own, warm, Christmas-adorned home, where I will be for the next five days, but I spent the first part of the month getting to know some different cities within Colombia. I went from jungle trekking to scuba diving to historic city meandering. All wonderful.

Traveling is an art. It can be done lavishly or on a shoestring, hastily or lackadaisically, methodically or spontaneously, or some permutation of the aforementioned. No matter how you choose to do it, it opens your eyes to a simplified way of life. Restricted either by airline weight regulations or those of your own carrying capacity, you can only bring so much shit along with you. And you still probably bring more than you need.

Me and some militaries at La Ciudad Perdida (Lost City)

I’ve got more stuff than I’ll ever know what to do with. This particular trip made me appreciate the bare necessities. Uphill hikes through the jungle make insect repellent and a decently-sized water bottle much more important than spare sets of clothing, especially when everything you have will get wet anyways. And you can forget about a brush, hairdryer, straightner, or makeup of any sort. Not at all relevant. Your alarm clock is the sun, a bothersome rooster, or your noisy neighbors, whichever comes first.

Another thing I realized on this trip is that I’ve always liked to have a plan. I still do. There are many benefits to a plan. But sometimes you have to be willing to throw the plan to the wind. Make a new plan. Don’t stick with something just because you’re already mentally, physically, or financially invested in it. In psychology we call this the sunk cost effect. Basically, the impending dissonance involved in accepting that we messed up or had another, better option keeps us stubborn, resistant to change, or blindly hopeful. The funny thing is, children under the age of 2 and monkeys do not demonstrate this principle. So apparently, you have to be pretty smart and “rational” to do something so stupid.

Ready for a night out in Taganga

My mom used to tell me that I would say, “I didn’t even know I wanted this” when I would open a present that I liked yet hadn’t specifically noted on my Santa Wish List. Same goes for life. Not everything can be planned for or predetermined because you don’t always know you want something until it’s in your lap. Don’t wrap it back up just because it’s not part of the plan. Go on, take the money and run. – Steve Miller Band

Gunther

Playing parques with Benjamin

The following post will almost undoubtedly reveal my insanity.  Here goes.

The official trailer for the new movie The Social Network says, “You don’t get to 500 million friends without making a few enemies.”   This thought struck me. 

I’ve always been of the camp that I’m a good person and I am who I am, take it or leave it.  I can’t possibly make everyone happy, and I wasn’t put on this Earth to do so. Of course I like to be liked, but I don’t need everyone to like me.  I’m still of this camp.  I think.  But to an extreme, this mentality is no more than a good excuse to be unkind, unfair, perhaps a little stuck in my ways.  So I started thinking.  Who do I know that’s truly liked by everyone?  And what is this person like?  How can I be more like him/her?     

The first “person” who came to my mind was Gunther.  I’m 23 years old and I still sleep with a teddy bear.  His name is Gunther.



Gunth & Stemp

Gunther is the best listener; he’ll listen for hours on end, to anything really.  As Gunther is a bear, he’s naturally a protector, but he also likes to snuggle.  He’s the ultimate secret-keeper; loyal to a fault.  Gunther is open-minded and accepting of all others.  His best friend is named Stempy.  Stempy has no arms, and wears a silly lace collar and a mismatched, patterned sweater.  But Gunther sees through all that to Stemp’s good heart.   He knows how to forgive.  He’s humble.  Gunther is anything but manipulative.  He likes to party, but is also good for a night in.  Gunther is constant, sound, reliable, steadfast.  He’s not perfect:  his neck is a little long and he’s a tad chubby (gets the munchies sometimes) so he’s not threatening or intimidating.  Gunther is a good sharer.  He’s easygoing, far from high maintenance.  Gunther has a lot of love to give and lets you love him back.

Everyone loves Gunther; he wears easy on you, makes you happy. 

So am I going to fret and worry if not everyone I meet thinks I’m an angel in disguise?  Nope.  But I think I can learn something from Gunther about how to love and be loved.  I don’t need any enemies, just friends.      



In Colombia & At Vandy: warming him up after someone put him in the freezer.