To my favourite people (aka earth angels)
a good friend recently told me about a poem i wrote when i was 17. i wrote it and at the time thought it was rubbish and threw it in the bin. but she kept it and put it aside until now. (thank you mel).
looking back on that age it was when i went through a long depression. but even in my lowest moments, i still have thoughts like these. so i just wanted you all to know that going through bad times is important to give you perspective and a deeper appreciation of the good times, and of the times we have together (even if they are few and far between).
kinda like yin yang :D
my love to you all
xxx TJ
------
"Sometimes"
Sometimes I get scared of how much beauty there is.
Sometimes I wonder, when the sun shines on my face,
what did I do to deserve it?
Sometimes when I look at the moon,
I think of how fascinating it is,
and I only wish I could be up there too.
Sometimes when I see the stars,
I wish I Could offer them my heart and soul,
so they knew how much I love them.
Sometimes when I focus on a point in the blue sky,
a sense of enormity pulls my heart out and leaves me breathless.
Sometimes I get scared of how much beauty there is in this world,
because I won't have time to experience it all.
but when I remember that I will always have the sun, the moon, the stars and the sky,
I realise that there's enough beauty in my heart to last me forever.
- TJ Bendeich 08/05/2002
-----
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Sunday, October 17, 2010
I've Lived This Life Before...
There’s been many moments in my life where I feel like ‘I’ve lived this life before’. One of which was during a deep depression of two years. A lot of that time, I was being very hard on myself partly because I felt like I’d made the same mistakes in previous lives, and I was disappointed in my soul for getting me into the same situation again.
In time though, I have come to appreciate my bad memories, for this reason: it has given me a good perspective and a bank of experience to draw on when it comes to connecting with people who have had a similar experience. The empathy I can feel, allows me to provide more solid guidance for them.
I also believe that the way I feel about living THIS life before, could be a collective consciousness built up from my many previous lives, that has given me instinct and direction to know what’s coming.
In time though, I have come to appreciate my bad memories, for this reason: it has given me a good perspective and a bank of experience to draw on when it comes to connecting with people who have had a similar experience. The empathy I can feel, allows me to provide more solid guidance for them.
I also believe that the way I feel about living THIS life before, could be a collective consciousness built up from my many previous lives, that has given me instinct and direction to know what’s coming.
My Last Words On The Donkey Diaries Adventure...
I've traveled South America for 10 months, I've traveled France & Europe for 2 years. I used to think that to have a great adventure, you need a lot of time. After my recent 22 day adventure, I have learn't to appreciate the cliché that it's "not quantity, but quality".
A month ago I sold my car to buy a donkey called "Valentine", and along with my dog "Foxtrot", we set off on a quest - one hoof, one paw and one foot at a time across France towards Barcelona.
Leading up to the project, I developed 5 objectives; to cherish the search of romance and adventure; to prove there are more good people than bad; to raise money for an animal welfare charity; to share my experiences with my friends, family and the world; and to walk from Antibes to Tibidabo.
My films reflect these objectives in hidden ways. I had 3 heart-stopping moments, last of which was when I lost my donkey, which surprisingly became the season finale "Lost In Lorgues".
What I can say is that I achieved all my objectives except for one: To walk from Antibes to Tibidabo. My conclusion is, that there's always next time. And for my readers & viewers, I have some words of wisdom if you care to hear..
If you have a dream, don't be overwhelmed by the logistics of how to achieve your goal. Just take it one step at a time, enjoy the journey, and most of all, MAKE IT HAPPEN.
[Referring to: www.donkey-diaries.blogspot.com]
A month ago I sold my car to buy a donkey called "Valentine", and along with my dog "Foxtrot", we set off on a quest - one hoof, one paw and one foot at a time across France towards Barcelona.
Leading up to the project, I developed 5 objectives; to cherish the search of romance and adventure; to prove there are more good people than bad; to raise money for an animal welfare charity; to share my experiences with my friends, family and the world; and to walk from Antibes to Tibidabo.
My films reflect these objectives in hidden ways. I had 3 heart-stopping moments, last of which was when I lost my donkey, which surprisingly became the season finale "Lost In Lorgues".
What I can say is that I achieved all my objectives except for one: To walk from Antibes to Tibidabo. My conclusion is, that there's always next time. And for my readers & viewers, I have some words of wisdom if you care to hear..
If you have a dream, don't be overwhelmed by the logistics of how to achieve your goal. Just take it one step at a time, enjoy the journey, and most of all, MAKE IT HAPPEN.
[Referring to: www.donkey-diaries.blogspot.com]
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
As Mother Teresa Says:
People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centred... forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish alterior motives... be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies... succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you... be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone may destroy overnight... build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous, be happy anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough... give the world the best you've got anyway.
You see, in the final analysis, it is all between you and God... it was never between you and them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish alterior motives... be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies... succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you... be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone may destroy overnight... build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous, be happy anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough... give the world the best you've got anyway.
You see, in the final analysis, it is all between you and God... it was never between you and them anyway.
Friday, October 17, 2008
The Blessing Of Joy & The Burden Of Pain
One of the most profound moments in my life, was the few seconds my brother was falling. This moment of eternity impacted my life in ways I could understand and ways that I might not ever know. My heart sank and I felt like I had no insides, when he fell from the top of the third story tower. Not only did I think he was dead before he hit the ground, I thought I had killed him!
I was concentrating so hard on what he was telling me to do. Pull the lever, but not all the way. It was stiff, and I thought my arm was weak. But when the handle suddenly clicked, I froze as the bundled rope at my feet disappeared through the device, like a snake on speed.
Loosing the rope between my hands seemed to happen in sonic speed. What followed was slow motion as he fell about 9metres onto concrete. It was like watching an old motion picture, time-lapsed black & white snapshots, was this really happening?
I can't recall any memory of disconnecting from my safety position, as it felt like he was at my fingertips before he touched the ground. At the last moment he leant to the right, and looked down fearfully at the impact that was inevitable. The majority of the force focused on 10cm of his right wrist & forearm. A compound break that made his hand flop, completely disconnected from his arm except for the skin that held it together.
His first words to me were "Its not your fault". A selfless and interesting choice of words after experiencing intense pain, and words that fell on deaf ears for a little sister in shock. There was already a flood of tears pouring out of my eyes, my soul screaming in pain. It seems bizarre but my mind continued to tell me he was dead.
Two firemen came running towards us. The ultimate test to perform under pressure. Their boss' son injured, a wandering bystander dazed & helpless, and a 12yr old girl screaming, crying and in complete shock. Time stood still as I viewed the event from within a bubble. There was me and adam, and everyone else were only in my periphial vision. I vaguely observe the firemen attempting to tend to Adam's injury and being firmly rejected. My heart continued to feel heavier and heavier, my face still drenched in tears as my young mind still believed my brother was not alive, even if it was obvious that he was. How could he be? A fall that far and survive? Like a surreal dream, pinching yourself to make sure its real, I'm eager to hold him, to feel he's alive and ok.
By now the ambulance is on its way and Dad overhears the call on the radio. He drives instantly to where we are, assuming the worst. Im asked to ride with Dad, but I refuse and beg to go with Adam in the ambulance. The tears flow and I'm slowly calmed down by big brother (in extreme pain) who still effortlessly finds the strength to reassure me.
Causing pain on someone you love, is very painful in itself. I remember praying then, and many years after, that if anything bad were to happen to anyone in my family, please god, let it be me.
So the story goes on that Adam and Dad flew to Singapore in a medical evacuation. He was lucky to receive the best treatment. His wrist was broken in five places, but the doctors put him back together and soon after, sent him home.
The shock I felt on that day was profound. I constantly had to be reassured by my bro that he was OK! "Does your wrist still hurt?" ... a question being asked daily, and one that I jokingly still ask, a decade later.
I no longer pray that I be the one to get hurt, maybe because I eventually experienced intense pain myself. I realise that, between people who love each other, pain felt by one is pain felt by all. So its much better to pray for health & happiness, and appreciate the fact that we have each other, to share the blessing of joy & the burden of pain.
I was concentrating so hard on what he was telling me to do. Pull the lever, but not all the way. It was stiff, and I thought my arm was weak. But when the handle suddenly clicked, I froze as the bundled rope at my feet disappeared through the device, like a snake on speed.
Loosing the rope between my hands seemed to happen in sonic speed. What followed was slow motion as he fell about 9metres onto concrete. It was like watching an old motion picture, time-lapsed black & white snapshots, was this really happening?
I can't recall any memory of disconnecting from my safety position, as it felt like he was at my fingertips before he touched the ground. At the last moment he leant to the right, and looked down fearfully at the impact that was inevitable. The majority of the force focused on 10cm of his right wrist & forearm. A compound break that made his hand flop, completely disconnected from his arm except for the skin that held it together.
His first words to me were "Its not your fault". A selfless and interesting choice of words after experiencing intense pain, and words that fell on deaf ears for a little sister in shock. There was already a flood of tears pouring out of my eyes, my soul screaming in pain. It seems bizarre but my mind continued to tell me he was dead.
Two firemen came running towards us. The ultimate test to perform under pressure. Their boss' son injured, a wandering bystander dazed & helpless, and a 12yr old girl screaming, crying and in complete shock. Time stood still as I viewed the event from within a bubble. There was me and adam, and everyone else were only in my periphial vision. I vaguely observe the firemen attempting to tend to Adam's injury and being firmly rejected. My heart continued to feel heavier and heavier, my face still drenched in tears as my young mind still believed my brother was not alive, even if it was obvious that he was. How could he be? A fall that far and survive? Like a surreal dream, pinching yourself to make sure its real, I'm eager to hold him, to feel he's alive and ok.
By now the ambulance is on its way and Dad overhears the call on the radio. He drives instantly to where we are, assuming the worst. Im asked to ride with Dad, but I refuse and beg to go with Adam in the ambulance. The tears flow and I'm slowly calmed down by big brother (in extreme pain) who still effortlessly finds the strength to reassure me.
Causing pain on someone you love, is very painful in itself. I remember praying then, and many years after, that if anything bad were to happen to anyone in my family, please god, let it be me.
So the story goes on that Adam and Dad flew to Singapore in a medical evacuation. He was lucky to receive the best treatment. His wrist was broken in five places, but the doctors put him back together and soon after, sent him home.
The shock I felt on that day was profound. I constantly had to be reassured by my bro that he was OK! "Does your wrist still hurt?" ... a question being asked daily, and one that I jokingly still ask, a decade later.
I no longer pray that I be the one to get hurt, maybe because I eventually experienced intense pain myself. I realise that, between people who love each other, pain felt by one is pain felt by all. So its much better to pray for health & happiness, and appreciate the fact that we have each other, to share the blessing of joy & the burden of pain.
Friday, November 2, 2007
New Beginnings
To those few of you who have read and loved my epic stories during my travels, sorry to have not yet filled you in on the last months of adventure, and to those of you who hate group emails and have managed to read this far, you will be pleased to know this is the last of my stories in this chapter of the Life of me!
I left Columbia on a sail boat bound for Panama. Along the way we were lucky enough to spend time in the San Blas islands. They were everything you could imagine for islands in the Caribbean. Aqua blue water, big fat orange star fish, white sand, fish & sharks, swimming at night in the glowing plankton, and one massive tiger stingray that sped up just below the surface, then popped up out of the water and glided mid air for what seemed like eternity. We anchored the boat a couple hundred metres from a small sand island. It had 6 palm trees on it, the smallest i've ever seen. I named it Chook Island, after the picture of the place my mum imagines she could be when she wants to relax. So I decided to spend a night there in my hammock. After my experience in Brazil, i managed to overcome the fear much more quickly. I was more worried about the distant thunder and what the hell I was going to do if it came my way. The skies cleared and I spent the night stargazing at northern hemisphere constellations... and the morning sunrise kept me in my hammock until finally it became too warm to continue being a lazy bum.
After my boat trip I spent some time in Panama city. Previously knowing only what footage was shown in the movie Team America, I found that it had a lot more to it! Getting comfortable in the hostel, formed another traveller-family of a couple of aussie bums, couple of poms, an irish and me. Family dinners, texas hold-em poker, drinking all the boys under the table and a few too many visits to the many Panama City casinos!! I spent one night without a cent in my pocket, seeing the city from a very different perspective. Jumping on a local bus going anywhere, asking the driver if I could ride for free, then jumping off and changing buses willy nilly. One part of town I ended up in (about sunrise) had beautiful old houses, painted bright colours, but had faded with age, giving it a warm vintage feel, like I'd been blasted back in time. The buses I rode were a spectacle themselves. Old American school buses, turned into moving art. Detailed with beautiful graffiti, cartoons, or tattoo-like pictures, always female named and some were dressed up with curtains, and lights brighter then Vegas. No camera that night, but good memories of the streets of Panama city.
Enough bumming around, and missing the family, I decided to head in the direction of home... which meant NYC first. I was so over excited to see this city I had heard so much about, that when I got to JFK and was at the customs desk, I was a little to anxious. (After singing the Team America song in my head the whole flight) When the bloke in the customs cubicle started asking questions in his strong brooklyn accent, I burst out laughing. Trust me when I say, that I DO know that its not the place to fall into a laughing fit. I giggled so damn much I was embarrassing myself. I was trying to hold my mouth but it was too late. He assumed I was 'on' something, but when he asked why i was so happy, I just replied "Im just happy to be here". I managed to get a high-five out of the man, and on my way. My plan was to surprise my friend Osmany, on his doorstep in Brooklyn, but all I had from him was his address. So off I went on my 4-hour subway journey, with the help of many funny New Yorkers. One black guy who was helping me said in his home-boy talk "Oh girl, your man invites you to his crib and he don't give you no crossroad?... if you my girl, i'd look after you ight!". Also got help from NYPD, putting a call out on their radio to find the exact address for me, it was like being in a movie, everywhere I looked I had de-ja-vu. So I spent 3 weeks in NYC having good times with my friends.... Riding bikes through Prospect park and down times square in peak hour, chilling out on a grass patch on a rooftop looking at the tops of manhattan, driving a porshe 110m/hour in upstate NY, getting lost in central park, exploring NY subways and streets, always finding some live music around the corner. This city was something else. Huge mix of culture, an entertaining range of NYC accents, things to do everywhere, an endless amount of places to see, and the people are so kind and love to talk to strangers! I even got to ask for directions in ENGLISH... and also received directions in spanish! Definitely another place I could find myself living.
Finally out of money and deciding to come home. My last few days were intense, trying to see just that extra bit, and the feelings resembled my last few days before my trip started. Excited, scared, nervous, not knowing what was going to happen, and what home was going to be like. I flew Emirates from NY to Dubai. Had a few interesting conversations with people curious about the world of backpacking.... yes, females do travel independently, yes, there are people in south america and you can interact with them, and no, I'm traveling with my money, not daddy's. Dubai airport was cool, it was like the alien airport in Men in Black. Everyone seemed to come from different worlds, and everyone going to different places. It really felt like the centre of the world right there, watching all the people go by on their own journey's.
This whole year I feel like I've been suspended in time. Something I clearly remember asking for. Being neither here nor there has its many benefits as well as challenges. I started this trip with high expectations... to do everything, see everything, meet everyone, know everything, find ultimate truth... and find myself somewhere in between. I certainly didn't fully achieve any of the criteria, but I did manage to find some patience in me, to realise, we are not supposed to know all the answers. The feeling of discovery is the/my essence of life. Where would we be without discovery? If we all knew everything and we all knew the ultimate truth, what would we have left to look for? The ultimate discovery IS discovery itself. Thats why the universe is the way it is, an infinite amount of information & wisdom, so we never stop asking, never stop thriving, never stop feeling, never stop learning. The dangling carrot, the constant desire to find truth, is what drives us to continue to discover things about us and the world around us.
I've been back home a week now and feeling a little disorientated. Everything looks the same, but it feels like its all changed. Still, in a state of limbo, I find myself closing a chapter in my life and a new one beginning. Im in the process of accepting and letting go of things that will hold me down, and holding onto the good experiences and lessons that have made me, me.
To the people I have been fortunate enough to share experiences with when our journey's collided... "hiGH fiVE!"
I left Columbia on a sail boat bound for Panama. Along the way we were lucky enough to spend time in the San Blas islands. They were everything you could imagine for islands in the Caribbean. Aqua blue water, big fat orange star fish, white sand, fish & sharks, swimming at night in the glowing plankton, and one massive tiger stingray that sped up just below the surface, then popped up out of the water and glided mid air for what seemed like eternity. We anchored the boat a couple hundred metres from a small sand island. It had 6 palm trees on it, the smallest i've ever seen. I named it Chook Island, after the picture of the place my mum imagines she could be when she wants to relax. So I decided to spend a night there in my hammock. After my experience in Brazil, i managed to overcome the fear much more quickly. I was more worried about the distant thunder and what the hell I was going to do if it came my way. The skies cleared and I spent the night stargazing at northern hemisphere constellations... and the morning sunrise kept me in my hammock until finally it became too warm to continue being a lazy bum.
After my boat trip I spent some time in Panama city. Previously knowing only what footage was shown in the movie Team America, I found that it had a lot more to it! Getting comfortable in the hostel, formed another traveller-family of a couple of aussie bums, couple of poms, an irish and me. Family dinners, texas hold-em poker, drinking all the boys under the table and a few too many visits to the many Panama City casinos!! I spent one night without a cent in my pocket, seeing the city from a very different perspective. Jumping on a local bus going anywhere, asking the driver if I could ride for free, then jumping off and changing buses willy nilly. One part of town I ended up in (about sunrise) had beautiful old houses, painted bright colours, but had faded with age, giving it a warm vintage feel, like I'd been blasted back in time. The buses I rode were a spectacle themselves. Old American school buses, turned into moving art. Detailed with beautiful graffiti, cartoons, or tattoo-like pictures, always female named and some were dressed up with curtains, and lights brighter then Vegas. No camera that night, but good memories of the streets of Panama city.
Enough bumming around, and missing the family, I decided to head in the direction of home... which meant NYC first. I was so over excited to see this city I had heard so much about, that when I got to JFK and was at the customs desk, I was a little to anxious. (After singing the Team America song in my head the whole flight) When the bloke in the customs cubicle started asking questions in his strong brooklyn accent, I burst out laughing. Trust me when I say, that I DO know that its not the place to fall into a laughing fit. I giggled so damn much I was embarrassing myself. I was trying to hold my mouth but it was too late. He assumed I was 'on' something, but when he asked why i was so happy, I just replied "Im just happy to be here". I managed to get a high-five out of the man, and on my way. My plan was to surprise my friend Osmany, on his doorstep in Brooklyn, but all I had from him was his address. So off I went on my 4-hour subway journey, with the help of many funny New Yorkers. One black guy who was helping me said in his home-boy talk "Oh girl, your man invites you to his crib and he don't give you no crossroad?... if you my girl, i'd look after you ight!". Also got help from NYPD, putting a call out on their radio to find the exact address for me, it was like being in a movie, everywhere I looked I had de-ja-vu. So I spent 3 weeks in NYC having good times with my friends.... Riding bikes through Prospect park and down times square in peak hour, chilling out on a grass patch on a rooftop looking at the tops of manhattan, driving a porshe 110m/hour in upstate NY, getting lost in central park, exploring NY subways and streets, always finding some live music around the corner. This city was something else. Huge mix of culture, an entertaining range of NYC accents, things to do everywhere, an endless amount of places to see, and the people are so kind and love to talk to strangers! I even got to ask for directions in ENGLISH... and also received directions in spanish! Definitely another place I could find myself living.
Finally out of money and deciding to come home. My last few days were intense, trying to see just that extra bit, and the feelings resembled my last few days before my trip started. Excited, scared, nervous, not knowing what was going to happen, and what home was going to be like. I flew Emirates from NY to Dubai. Had a few interesting conversations with people curious about the world of backpacking.... yes, females do travel independently, yes, there are people in south america and you can interact with them, and no, I'm traveling with my money, not daddy's. Dubai airport was cool, it was like the alien airport in Men in Black. Everyone seemed to come from different worlds, and everyone going to different places. It really felt like the centre of the world right there, watching all the people go by on their own journey's.
This whole year I feel like I've been suspended in time. Something I clearly remember asking for. Being neither here nor there has its many benefits as well as challenges. I started this trip with high expectations... to do everything, see everything, meet everyone, know everything, find ultimate truth... and find myself somewhere in between. I certainly didn't fully achieve any of the criteria, but I did manage to find some patience in me, to realise, we are not supposed to know all the answers. The feeling of discovery is the/my essence of life. Where would we be without discovery? If we all knew everything and we all knew the ultimate truth, what would we have left to look for? The ultimate discovery IS discovery itself. Thats why the universe is the way it is, an infinite amount of information & wisdom, so we never stop asking, never stop thriving, never stop feeling, never stop learning. The dangling carrot, the constant desire to find truth, is what drives us to continue to discover things about us and the world around us.
I've been back home a week now and feeling a little disorientated. Everything looks the same, but it feels like its all changed. Still, in a state of limbo, I find myself closing a chapter in my life and a new one beginning. Im in the process of accepting and letting go of things that will hold me down, and holding onto the good experiences and lessons that have made me, me.
To the people I have been fortunate enough to share experiences with when our journey's collided... "hiGH fiVE!"
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Columbia... Crazy Beautiful
Im sitting here in Cartegena, on the coast of Colombia and have my last two days in this crazy beautiful country…
my time here started with a flight to Bogota, over the top of the Guerilla jungles from the border town of Leticia in the heart of the Amazon… a quite well off town with its primary industry being the drug trade, but safe none the less…
so sad to leave the jungle but excited to see what Columbia had in store for me. The capital is a huge city dominated by university students, with a strong art culture, exhibitions, the Botero museum and loads of places for coffee and music! I didnt spend enough time there, but Bogota is definately a city i would opt to live if I was studying or working...
so avoiding the cold, I again headed for the coast. Santa Marta is a cosy little beach town on the caribbean coast… first time wooooooo!! I stayed at a great shit hole of a hostel which i loved. Had some great company with drinks and didge-guitar jams on the concrete half built rooftop overlooking the surrounding buildings. This area has the best storms and weather, from our rooftop we just watch the bolts of lightning shoot across the orange-grey night sky glowing from the town´s lights. It rains but we dont move an inch... its hot and humid, and the warm rain is welcomed with my rain dance!
Next stop was a trip to Tyrona Nacional Park. Awesome area of jungle and beaches. Despite the meals being more expensive and banana-up-their-bum staff, the company I had and the beaches, were totally worth it. By now a group of us had accumulated. 1 over the top funny alpha-male german, 2 dopey irish, 2 goregous english girls, 2 O-C Californians, and me and me didge. We all stayed in a big hut that sat ontop a hill in between two small beaches. One central pole, with our hammocks strung around in a circle. Each afternoon we had dramatic thunderstorm entertainment, which made us buzz with excitement. One night we had a massive thunderstorm where some of us thought we might actually be in trouble and I was soaked from head to toe in my hammock cacoon from the side ways rain. But when the storm calmed, we were sad to see it go! So days and days on the hot sand, the aqua blue warm water, loads of card games of ´presidents and assholes´, horse rides through the jungle, and a caribbean tan.
A bus to Cartegena with the group reforming, we have a great last few days together. After a long time travelling solo or as a pair, I have really enjoyed having a big group of us looking out for each other and having a blast... these guys have been like a family! We spent one quiet night out where i ran off to organise our transportation and came back with 6 motorbikes (moto-taxis) and we roared around town like a pack of harleys... only it was 100cc´s and scooters!... We still felt tough like :).. Last night we stepped it up a notch, and organised a romantic trip around town in a horse and cart for all 6 of us. So drinking and antics, we spent a couple hours cruising around town... another place I could live. Old town surrounded by a fortress wall, narrow streets, trees and vines, and vibrant buildings of all different contrasting colours. The place holds a warm atmosphere even when the streets are dead empty. The rest of the night was spent dancing on bars in the quiet discotecas, eating the street kebabs ontop of taxis, and the unfortunate event of our boy james loosing his camera to a pickpocketer. There is such a fine line between people genuinely talking to you, and when they want something from you. My rule of thumb has been to always assume the worst when people approach me. Which is unfortunate, but I feel like if I had any other attitude, I would probably be bulldozed over! It was really sad to see James loose his camera. He is the true example of the turtle traveller theory, sold all, packed up and his life is on his back… we had the police on scooters riding around the area, but no point cause these guys are artists!
My time in south america has had a lot different effects on me then i first thought, and even what a thought during my changes. I guess i was kind of expecting to become more compassionate, more open minded, and be able to connect with people of all characters or cultures. But i guess what happened was a bit opposite. For a while there I bécame really close-minded, and a lot more thickskinned and guarded. Many people rip you off, try to take advantage, and the big majority of people who approach you, want something out of you, whether its obvious or not. My problem was, I was letting these people shape my views of the culture and the countrys. But thats not cricket! I now believe that your perception of places, cultures and countries, should be shaped by the good people you meet. Yes there´s bad, and yes you have to be protective of your space and who´s in it, but its possible to accept the bad. Everyone has choices, but I constantly think about life from their eyes. They have to steal to live, but how would they really feel? They manipulate and lye and hurt others, but what happens when they judge themselves (which we all do, whether its throughout your life or down to the moment you die). When I think of the bad people Ive met along the way, I still remember that everyone has a good nature, and respect that everyone is at different stages of their own development.
To all the good people already in my life, to all the good people I´ve met on my trip and will continue to meet, I wouldnt care if I had to deal with 1000 bad people for every 1 of you, it would still be worth it.
my time here started with a flight to Bogota, over the top of the Guerilla jungles from the border town of Leticia in the heart of the Amazon… a quite well off town with its primary industry being the drug trade, but safe none the less…
so sad to leave the jungle but excited to see what Columbia had in store for me. The capital is a huge city dominated by university students, with a strong art culture, exhibitions, the Botero museum and loads of places for coffee and music! I didnt spend enough time there, but Bogota is definately a city i would opt to live if I was studying or working...
so avoiding the cold, I again headed for the coast. Santa Marta is a cosy little beach town on the caribbean coast… first time wooooooo!! I stayed at a great shit hole of a hostel which i loved. Had some great company with drinks and didge-guitar jams on the concrete half built rooftop overlooking the surrounding buildings. This area has the best storms and weather, from our rooftop we just watch the bolts of lightning shoot across the orange-grey night sky glowing from the town´s lights. It rains but we dont move an inch... its hot and humid, and the warm rain is welcomed with my rain dance!
Next stop was a trip to Tyrona Nacional Park. Awesome area of jungle and beaches. Despite the meals being more expensive and banana-up-their-bum staff, the company I had and the beaches, were totally worth it. By now a group of us had accumulated. 1 over the top funny alpha-male german, 2 dopey irish, 2 goregous english girls, 2 O-C Californians, and me and me didge. We all stayed in a big hut that sat ontop a hill in between two small beaches. One central pole, with our hammocks strung around in a circle. Each afternoon we had dramatic thunderstorm entertainment, which made us buzz with excitement. One night we had a massive thunderstorm where some of us thought we might actually be in trouble and I was soaked from head to toe in my hammock cacoon from the side ways rain. But when the storm calmed, we were sad to see it go! So days and days on the hot sand, the aqua blue warm water, loads of card games of ´presidents and assholes´, horse rides through the jungle, and a caribbean tan.
A bus to Cartegena with the group reforming, we have a great last few days together. After a long time travelling solo or as a pair, I have really enjoyed having a big group of us looking out for each other and having a blast... these guys have been like a family! We spent one quiet night out where i ran off to organise our transportation and came back with 6 motorbikes (moto-taxis) and we roared around town like a pack of harleys... only it was 100cc´s and scooters!... We still felt tough like :).. Last night we stepped it up a notch, and organised a romantic trip around town in a horse and cart for all 6 of us. So drinking and antics, we spent a couple hours cruising around town... another place I could live. Old town surrounded by a fortress wall, narrow streets, trees and vines, and vibrant buildings of all different contrasting colours. The place holds a warm atmosphere even when the streets are dead empty. The rest of the night was spent dancing on bars in the quiet discotecas, eating the street kebabs ontop of taxis, and the unfortunate event of our boy james loosing his camera to a pickpocketer. There is such a fine line between people genuinely talking to you, and when they want something from you. My rule of thumb has been to always assume the worst when people approach me. Which is unfortunate, but I feel like if I had any other attitude, I would probably be bulldozed over! It was really sad to see James loose his camera. He is the true example of the turtle traveller theory, sold all, packed up and his life is on his back… we had the police on scooters riding around the area, but no point cause these guys are artists!
My time in south america has had a lot different effects on me then i first thought, and even what a thought during my changes. I guess i was kind of expecting to become more compassionate, more open minded, and be able to connect with people of all characters or cultures. But i guess what happened was a bit opposite. For a while there I bécame really close-minded, and a lot more thickskinned and guarded. Many people rip you off, try to take advantage, and the big majority of people who approach you, want something out of you, whether its obvious or not. My problem was, I was letting these people shape my views of the culture and the countrys. But thats not cricket! I now believe that your perception of places, cultures and countries, should be shaped by the good people you meet. Yes there´s bad, and yes you have to be protective of your space and who´s in it, but its possible to accept the bad. Everyone has choices, but I constantly think about life from their eyes. They have to steal to live, but how would they really feel? They manipulate and lye and hurt others, but what happens when they judge themselves (which we all do, whether its throughout your life or down to the moment you die). When I think of the bad people Ive met along the way, I still remember that everyone has a good nature, and respect that everyone is at different stages of their own development.
To all the good people already in my life, to all the good people I´ve met on my trip and will continue to meet, I wouldnt care if I had to deal with 1000 bad people for every 1 of you, it would still be worth it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)