Why Zebras Don't Get Ulcers

Ever been stranded on the side of a deserted mountain road in Ecuador?  Alone?  Kicked off the bus by a police officer for not having the proper stamp on your passport even though the numb-nut at Border Security said U.S. Citizens only need the immigration form?  Had everyone on the bus look at you like you were some sort of terrorist as they drove off?  Started walking in the direction from which you came hoping to find some sign of civilization before the sun went down?  Had an indigenous family (no teeth) drive you 2.5 hours to the airport because no one else would? 

In case you haven’t already come to this conclusion, I had some issues getting in and out of Ecuador about 3 weeks ago.  Because I was alone there was no time for panicking, crying, even hesitating.  Somehow, I honestly don’t know how, I remained totally calm.  It felt like some sort of a biological reaction.  My body (and mind) just instinctively kicked into 4-wheel drive.  Solve the problem Annie, you have to, and now.

The closest I came to panicking was when I retold the story to a group of friends once I finally got to Quito and to my parents when I got back to Bogotá.  Understandably they weren’t thrilled. 

Stressful things happen to us every day, but I’ve really come to believe that for the most part those things are only as stressful as me make them.  I learned studying psychology that our bodies are built to be able to cope with a tragedy every once in awhile: death in the family, illness, etc.  That’s not to say these events are taken lightly, but that most people eventually learn to move on, the weight eventually alleviated.  What our bodies are not designed to do is put up with a constant grind of stress and anxiety.  It may be smaller, less notably dramatic, but it does not desist, if we don’t let it.

There’s a book by Robert M. Sapolsky called Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers.  It’s rather scientific, but the high level message is that animals (zebras in this case) use stress related hormones to help them survive and cope, whereas humans secrete these same hormones at higher quantities and for extended periods of time, which can significantly damage our health.  The best thing you can do is learn how to not stress yourself out; it’s not worth it anyways, and will probably only inhibit you from solving the problem at hand.

Save your stress for real misfortune, and then let biology kick in.  When it’s over it’s over, just a story to tell, an event to remember, or to forget.  But you have to let yourself let it end.       

Grow Up

More than anything, after a certain age, life expects us to act as grownups.  Make responsible decisions, look after ourselves and others, abide by moral standards, bla bla bla.  My brother recently had a baby and one of my dearest friends from college just got engaged.  They´re growing up!  The importance, rather, necessity of growing up is tantamount to the continued functioning of not only our individual lives, but of society as a whole.  Regardless, I still see a value in moments of immaturity, childishness, letting loose once in awhile.

Carnaval de Negros y Blancos (a carnival in Pasto, Colombia, which I recently attended) is an example of just that.  It’s a typical carnival: parades, concerts, local food and drink.  Now add thousands of aerosol cans of foam (picture shaving cream), thousands of pounds of flour, and paint of all colors.  Upon entering the streets one enters straight up battle mode.  It’s actually ridiculous.  One literally cannot walk to the corner bakery without having flour thrown in your hair, foam sprayed anywhere and everywhere, paint caked on your face, or some bizarre combination of the three.  Your only defense is a good offense (and a pancho). 

My first thought was, this is awesome.  But then I thought, would this fly in the U.S.?  At a Vandy frat party, sure, but in any old city, not so positive.  It didn’t matter your age or your social status; several senior citizens shot me directly in the face.  Everyone participated.  I was thoroughly impressed with the level of immaturity.  I like to think that I take myself and my life pretty seriously, but sometimes you’ve just gotta buy a spray can of foam and squirt it at someone you don’t even know.

To quote my favorite Disney movie, “If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree, I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up, not me!” 

You`re Welcome

I`ve had a lot to say thank you for as of late, and I`ve found that (as in English) there are many, diverse ways to respond to a simple "thank you."  Some I like more than others.  You`ve got the nonchalant sort: "no prob," "don`t worry about it," "don`t mention it"; the gleeful kind: "sure," "anytime"; and the formal sort: "my pleasure," "you`re very welcome." 

Words are just words; we attribute meaning to them, so it shouldn`t matter how you say it, but I like the latter sort the best.  This way one aknowledges the favor or service provided, accepts the recipient`s gratitude, and expresses one`s willingness to have served.  Rather than casting it aside de nada (it`s nothing/no prob), one recognizes that it was actually something while almost inviting you to feel free to do so again.  It`s rather nice.

Colombians have hospitality figured out; precisely why I end up saying thank you so much.  Upon arrival in Cali, two travel buddies and I were taken in by a friend`s family, provided a bed, breakfast and sometimes lunch, and a place we were told to call home for five whole days.  Geovanny (the friend) ushered us around by car, by bus, and on foot to all the different events of the feria.  We saw parks, markets, malls, bull fights, live concerts, salsa dancing, you name it.  A family I met in Bogotà also had me picked up one night so we could stroll the streets and enjoy a most delicious homemade pasta dinner.  They even tried to buy me some clothes considering I arrived to the hot coast of Cali with only my Chicago luggage (got locked out of my apartment due to forgetting my keys...oops), but I simply couldn`t accept.  And then today a nice family we`ve never before met held umbrellas over our heads and watched our backs for pocket thieves as we watched a parade in Pasto.  They then made a special clearing for us to cross the street and safely accompanied us to our hotel.  Allllll of this was done out of sheer goodness in their hearts.  Sounds cheesy, but really, I never once asked for help or extra service.  It was just offered.

The most hospitable people in the world however are your parents.  The vast majority of their time is spent in providing favors for their kids and the ones they love.  I happen to know of one new set of parents who I`m sure will do the same for their new son, my nephew:  Thomas William Freyman.  He already has a lot to be thankful for as they graciously welcome him into their world.  And again it`s all done in the name of love and goodness, not expecting anything in return, except, maybe, one day, a "thank you."