Yes, I just finished the last post, but I don't know how often I'm going to get to do this, and I have a lot to say.
So my feelings about this backpacking adventure are complicated, and change often. Generally, though, my attitude is that this is something that was extremely important for me to get to do. I expect I will do more similar sorts of things (lighting off to foreign lands with no particular plans, just to see what I see and have adventures) throughout my life, but I have wander lust and I have it bad, and I always have, so the time had come. I needed a break from school as well. And I figured that spending some time away would really help me appreciate Brown more and love it all the more when I get back.
On the other hand, I'm not expecting this to be a pleasure cruise. It was almost specifically designed NOT to be. I allotted a mere $300 for lodging for the whole 3 months I am here. That meant I chose to depend entirely on the kindness of strangers, my own resourcefulness, and well-cultivated homeless persona. And of course the network of friends abroad I am lucky enough to have.
But here are the downsides to all these plans, or rather, lack thereof. I'm never quite sure where I am going to end up sleeping any given night. I have friends in a lot of places, but I have to figure out how to find them and get to them, and that might not always work out. And it's going to get uncomfortable. I don't like asking people for favors, and I don't like being a burden. (I think this trip will hopefully help cure me of these things somewhat :) I know I am also going to quickly get tired of living out of a backpack. I'm already tired of worrying about money all the time, but I'm pretty sure that's not going to stop. I'm really determined to not go over budget for this trip, but my budget is extremely optimistic, probably to the point of foolhardiness, so it's a hard line to walk. I've been obsessively bargain-shopping for the cheapest ways to get around and the cheapest things to eat. I've always prided myself on being moderate and disciplined in my spending, sometimes even to the point of aesceticism, but I've also come to enjoy the comforts of not having to cook for myself or figure out what to do about grocery shopping. And I love to travel, and I love to see theatre. So this trip is quite a study in inner struggle with all that. Also because I really do not like a version of me that is obsessed with money. Far too many people care far too much about that, and I don't like to hear myself think or talk about it. And yet, it is in fact necessary to get from place to place and to do many things. At least until I learn better how to do without it.
In any case, I think I'm sort of rambling now. What I meant to say is that: I know this trip is not going to be easy. I expect there are going to be a lot of stresses and frustrations and problems and mistakes. Just today after hours of searching for the cheapest forms of transportation online, I accidentally booked two buses I couldn't actually use. That was extremely frustrating. And I am expecting to become deeply lonely as the weeks roll on. And I am expecting to want to be left alone after weeks of staying with various people I know to varying degrees. And I am expecting to be cold and tired and hungry and uncomfortable. I have basically worked all these things into the game plan, whether consciously or not. However, at least as of now, I am OK with all that. For one thing, this trip being hard is one of the things that will make me happier to go home. I also think it will give me a lot of good opportunity for reflection and growth. And in this crazy fast-paced world we live in, I rather welcome a couple of months that will drag on and be hard to get through. The world could use a little slowing down, if you ask me. I'm looking forward to noticing the seasons change, and to really feeling that first winter snow.
Last night I made myself a make-shift mattress on a study-abroad dormitory floor. Troy had two extra pillows, one went under my head, and the other, placed perpendicularly, served as support for my torso. I also folded my small toilet in half and put that and my fall jacket and a sweater beneath me. And I used the one small fleece blanket I thought to pack and bring with me for cover and warmth. Be assured, it wasn't the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in, but it was unmistakably mine, and part of the experience. I guess all the homelessness training and conditioning I've undergone through the years hasn't gone to waste after all. ;)
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