Opportunities

There are few places as full of possibility and opportunity as a full bus stop. Not a little, street-side bus stop, although those in themselves can be pretty special. I'm talking a huge, train station, airport of a bus stop. I've never been in a bus stop so large before. Airports, bus stops, train stations -- they have so much potential, so much emotion. You can stand in the crowd and almost taste it. Backpackers -- the ones just starting, bright eyed with a spring in their steps, and the returners, slower, more pensive, but with a powerful sense of energy and experience. Weary parents, laden with stuffed animals and bleary eyed toddlers. Businessmen and con men (sometimes one and the same); couples and best friends. Pacers, writers, gamers, movie watchers, music listeners. Everyone is going somewhere, but they're all stagnant, caught in this web of anticipation. We're all linked in our anticipation, excitement, anxiety, and our inability to do anything about it. It's a kind of helplessness, but a welcome one. For some, it increases the anticipation, the suspense; for others, it's a rest before the storm.

I love feelings of community like this, where people of different origins and different destinations all meet together with a common link -- in this case, that suspension in time. It's like being in limbo -- a traveller's limbo.

Some Travel-Inspired Poetry

I would like to note that I'm copying this almost word-for-word from my journal. At this point, my entry was interrupted with this gem from my friend Katy:

There once was a pick-up truck named Bob
He had one important job
To make lots of money
and put gas in his tummy
Katy likes corn on the cob

You're welcome.

This weekend, we were fortunate enough to meet so many wonderful people from all over the world. It was really such an incredible experience. I am still astounded by people and their capacity to find common ground, no matter what the situation. On Thursday night, most of the guests from the hostel sat around the same table and ate an asada together (an asada is like a Chilean barbecue -- it was delicious, and there was a loooot of meat. My dad would have approved). Between the 15 of us, we had representatives from Germany, Sweden, the US, Canada, Chile, and New Zealand.  Snatches of Spanish, English, German, and Swedish flew around the wooden picnic table. It is so fascinating to me, and so amazing, that people with such different backgrounds and experiences can always find something in common to talk about around a fire or a couple pints. We are drawn together by our similarities, not pulled apart by our differences.

I love travelling, and I love talking with people who enjoy travelling. Everyone is so open and willing to share everything from stories and advice to food and even money. I think it does take a certain kind of person to be willing to travel, especially in a foreign country. Obviously every traveller is very different, in their goals, methods, and ideas, but they all have a certain drive and a certain wonder, an instinct that drives them to see more things and try out new experiences. It's a unique feeling but it was so apparent in every single person we met in Pucon. It's such a wonderful bond to share.

I have so many stories to share about my four days in Pucon -- I promise to try my best to share them all here eventually! For now, though, I have a lot of homework to catch up on. It's time to kick off my hiking boots and pull out a pen!

Or, alternatively, just go to bed. They both sound like pretty excellent plans to me.