Momentos – Oct 2014

These are my Momentos, short personal diary entries I write daily – since 2013 – and publish monthly. Some links are affiliate links.

1

We’re fifty miles south of Manaus at a place called Lago Juma. We sit in a boat and watch river dolphins hide and peek, then swim in warm water as the sun sets. After dark we venture out and witness our guide catch a caiman with bare hands. Back at the lodge we’re encouraged to hold him and take photos, but I’m not feeling it. Let the wild be free.

2

We sleep in the wilderness tonight, hammocks wrapped in mosquito nets. It took us two hours to get here by boat. The jungle breathes heavy after dark, imagination the enemy, fear rising with the sound of something significant circling the camp, some creature after our chicken bones. At dawn we’ll awake to the distant rumble of howler monkeys.

3

The evening winds down with a show in Teatro Amazonas, a copy of the Grand Opera de Paris, a jewel in the heart of the rainforest. Over the stage you’ll see the original curtain from 1896, depicting the parting of the waters. Directly above you’re looking up the skirt of the Eiffel Tower, painted on the ceiling, surrounded by scenes of dance, tragedy, comedy, music.

4

Lazy day today, one I would have beaten myself up about in the past. I wasted time online, lay in my hostel bunk and watched a couple of movies, procrastinated on a bunch of projects… but at the end of it all, when it came time to answer the question, “How could I have made today better?”, nothing came to mind. Today was perfect.

5

Do you know anyone personally who has all three areas well covered: health, wealth and relationships? I can name plenty of friends or acquaintances with one or two, but three is rare. And methinks that to thrive in any of those areas, it helps immensely to befriend and socialize with others a few steps ahead. Business-wise, I’ve been doing a woeful job of that.

6

At the dock for 5:30, but no sign of the fast boat to Tabatinga. One lady tells us it crashed on the way downstream. I’m tired from dragging my bags across town, feeling woozy for reasons unknown. This place smells of piss and rotten fish. I make myself throw up on a trash patch floating in the river, spewing liquid green. Okay… feeling better… new plan.

7

We cross the border easy then spend six hours at the station in Santa Elena, eating questionable sandwiches and watching miserable dogs. Now we’re finally on the move again. Our bus is ghetto and we’re stopped by police for the second time in a ten mile stretch. “Estrangeiro?” asks the fat officer. I nod, and he motions me out into the dark.

8

Another day, another several hours waiting at a Venezuelan bus station. In walks an old man with a smile rugged and hopeful, wearing a black cape, orange sunglasses, and a floppy hat with red sequins. He proceeds to pour a jug of water in and out of a rolled up newspaper, undo the snipping of a string, and perform mildly impressive card tricks. I’d like to know more of this man’s life.

9

70-odd hours since we left Manaus, plus a few since I last showered, eleven vehicles, twelve times pulled aside by police, some of them mere kids with automatic weapons, streams of garbage, car-shaped rust-buckets clogging the calles, lazy fat men and beautiful women with scars on their cheeks. There must be more to Venezuela, but this is what I see, and I’m glad to get out.

10

I should have trusted my first impression two days back in Puerto La Cruz. My bag seemed different when I retrieved it from the lock-up at the station, the straps shifted. I shrugged it off at the time, but today it makes sense. My shaver and hard drive are missing. Fuck it, I had a good run. Three years on the road before I got robbed.

11

Today I bought a new shaver, from an electronics shop that was ripe for a haggle. But I didn’t haggle. It didn’t even occur to me. I was in some kind of daze, preoccupied with the newness of my surroundings, and thoughts of other errands still ahead. To be able to recognize when you’re in a fog, and take a step back… that’s a skill worth cultivating.

12

It’s an hour in a jeep up a rocky mountain road before setting off through the jungle on foot. We’re assaulted for the first hour by thunder and lightening and rain, feet slipping and sinking in the steep muddy trail, practicing Spanish all the while. When the storm lets up we’re treated to spectacular views of mist-kissed hills and waterfalls in the distance.

13

A little after 5 a.m. and I stand alone on a small bridge above a sleepy stream deep in a dale, surrounded by lush green and bright flowers and tropical birdsong, sunlight yet to touch the treetops. And I think to myself, as I take a sip of hot coffee and feel it flow straight into my veins… I think to myself, this is one of those moments right here.

14

A twenty-minute trek, one river crossing, and 1,250 stone steps is all that separates breakfast from La Ciudad Perdida. And it doesn’t disappoint. Built more than a millennium ago, they say some two thousand people once lived here. You squint and among the stone circles catch glimpses of ceremonies and dances and kids playing games long forgotten.

15

In a haze all evening, drowsy from the marathon hike these past few days. I watch a movie with eyes half closed, then head to the dorm to call it a night. But fuck: five of the ten beds are up and about with drinks in hand, taking turns cutting and snorting from the bunk below mine. This could get messy.

16

I do love me some deep conversation, mind-expanding stuff. Probably why I find myself craving more stability lately, both in location and relationships; easier to have those frequent mind stretches with people you know well. Tonight in Santa Marta, thanks to a limitless lady and her fella, that itch got scratched.

17.

Chatting with a girl just back from La Ciudad Perdida. She’s busted up: swollen ankle, band-aids, mosquito bites. Another girl had to be carried down the mountain on a donkey after wrecking her foot. What’s amazing though is that more people don’t suffer a similar fate. It’s 26 miles of footfalls on rough terrain, a minor miracle most don’t put a foot wrong.

18

In from a kick around with the local kids, cooling off in the pool as I get stuck into a bio of Simón Bolívar. I visited his deathbed earlier today. You can’t go far in the Americas without noticing cities, mountains, entire countries named after the man. Behind me there’s the sound of travel chatter, billiard balls, Erykah Badu singing baby you got me, and the final scene of Pulp Fiction.

19

Up before the dawn, reading Lennox and taking notes. Apparently there is still little evidence of intermediary species in the fossil record, no strong link between reptiles and birds, for example. Paleontologist David Raup: “The record of evolution is still surprisingly jerky and, ironically, we have even fewer examples of evolutionary transition than we had in Darwin’s time.”

20

My seventh overnight bus in six weeks, carrying me upwards to the city of the eternal Spring. There’s a morning pit stop at a roadside cafe, the place decorated with scores of portraits of scientific heroes. Einstein, Kepler, Curie, Hubble, Newton… and dozens more I’ve never heard of. I want to know them all, their stories and accomplishments.

21

Standing listening to this dude go on and on about clean counter tops and no visitors under any circumstances and please don’t let the garbage pile up and don’t bang the door because we wake up at six every morning and my brain thinks, a) wow this guy really needs to get laid and, b) there’s absolutely no way in hell I’m going to live here.

22

The apartment search is exhausting, another side of the nomadic lifestyle that’s lost its luster. I remember how fun it used to be, like back in my Amsterdam days. An adventure! Now it’s nothing but a drain on my time, energy, and finances. As they say, the grass is always greener on the other side, but it’s still a bitch to mow.

23

Aside from the accommodation frustration, I’m liking Medellín a lot so far. The streets are green, the cost of living is decent, and you can even drink the tap water! Not sure yet about the dating scene. I hear it’s more like Thailand than Brazil, which doesn’t bode well. Still, I could see myself returning someday to live long-term.

24

Ralph Nichols once said, “The most basic of all human needs is the need to understand and be understood.” As such, one of my favorite questions to ask people these days: What do you think is the most misunderstood thing about ________? Fill in that blank according to the person you’re speaking with. Mormonism, America, paleontologists, whatever.

25

It’s been an epic day of hanging out and sightseeing with some of my favorite people in the world. Now we’re on the metro headed back towards Poblado. I’m due to come good on a lost bet and sing aloud in the park, been getting my mind right. Until Caroline proposes that I just go ahead and belt one out right there in the metro car. My breath catches. Gotta do it.

26

Wee hours of the night and sleep is dragging at my eyes, but I lie awake reading back through Momentos from a year ago. December 6th was the last time I saw her, the last time we said goodbye. We joked then that maybe we’d meet up again in Colombia. I’m already here, and she’ll arrive in a few weeks. I wonder how it will be.

27

I still love to play, reveled in getting out there and scrimmaging across the street this afternoon. One local kid on my team was shooting the lights out, but he was also a ball hog. I switched teams so I could D up on him. Much more fun trying to slow his roll than watching him drop buckets for my benefit.

28

I posted a public goal earlier today, aiming to win $5,000 worth of new business in November. Honestly, I’m nervous about this, not sure I’ll succeed. Even $1k a week is a ton for me right now. To do better than that four weeks running? Fuck man, I don’t know… I could fall flat on my face here. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

29

It’s not so much that I want to date someone or be in a relationship right now. I’m quite content being single, having all my time to myself. So why the unease, the craving for female attention? The real issue, methinks, is a lack of sexual expression. That’s what I’m missing most. Being bold and assertive and dominant, a man who goes after what he wants.

30

I’ve been in Medellín for eleven days now, have viewed seven places, investigated dozens more… and still nowhere to call home. It wouldn’t be so bad if I had to do this once every year or two, but we’re talking four times in the past twelve months. It’s a problem more money would easily solve, another reason I want to be rich.

31

There’s a kid soldier waiting for the metro, a princess across the track, and a ghoul looking out from the carriage. But that’s nothing compared to Poblado, where all kinds of costumes collide. There’s a guy dressed as an empanada, Michael Jackson dancing with zombies, and enough skin, cleavage and latina smiles to drive a man half-mad.