Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Last day in Amurikuh

In the last 2 weeks, we sold a bookshelf and a couch, donated a dining-room table and 6 chairs to a family of Nepalese refugees, took several loads of kitchen supplies and ugly mugs to Value Village, and eventually, after hours and hours of slave cleaning labor at the behest of our landlord, moved out of our dungeon/basement apartment at 15th and Madison, and again entered the world of homelessness, uncertainty, and adventure. :)

It's all a bit surreal, even still. I am reminded of how un-planting and putting can be a wavering, uncomfortable feeling. The whole process is full of mixed emotions: On one hand, it feels wildly refreshing to unweight yourself from all that stuff you thought you needed, to give it away, and to live simplistically again. On the other hand, it feels ab it like jumping off a sailing ship into a rubber life raft. I mean, I've never done such a thing, but I imagine it would be pretty hard to turn back. All the comforts of home, however simple, are instantly gone: the roof, the bed, NPR, the internet, the smell of french press, long showers, the easy life. We probably don't really need any of those things, but nonetheless, I ask myself, what am I trading this for again? The I that had decided many months ago that this was a good idea is now fleeting. One moment I look at the photos in the guidebooks scream, "YEA!" The next moment, I'm saddened by the conga line of craigslisters walking out the door with all your stuff. I suppose you just have to constantly remind yourself why you're doing it and where you're headed, and that all that stuff will be forgotten soon enough.

The whole process is full of little ups and downs, the downs of which threaten to pull you back from brink, instead to relish in security. And as "adult life" pressure mounts, I think I finally understand what keeps so many people from doing things like this in the first place. Aren't I supposed to be doing something like building a career, a business? I find myself having to ferociously reject "common wisdom" and ignore, at least for now, whatever expectations society has of me, including those I think I have for my myself. It's definitely much harder ignore than I thought. But what do I know? As for now, Kaeli and I have been able, yet again, to delay that which may be inevitable. Our chances may be running thin, so we're going to make it big!

Boom--a little transition from the philosophical realm to the here and now. So now that we're sleeping on friends' couches and living out of our backpacks. Packing and moving has essentially come and gone, and now we're relaxing in the eye of a little storm, the second half of which will consist of unwieldy luggage, culture shock, and--well--chaos. And for me, Spanish. But we'll take them in stride. :)

The world has in store for us an adventure that we can't even comprehend. Sounds funny but its true. As we venture into the unknown, I'm afraid we may have packed the kitchen sink. Neither us have climbed in the tropics, so we're not entirely sure what we'll need. It's hard to pack for the hot, sweaty jungle and tall, frozen peaks all in the same trip. I guess we'll soon find out soon--or perhaps more accurately, we'll find out as we crest the summit of the tallest mountain in Peru if we were right to pack like eskimos. :) They say it's warm, but the pictures sure don't make it look warm.

Our flight leaves tomorrow at 7am! I've got a fancy new camera that takes HD video and, I hope, great photos, so we'll try and to post some photos every week or two. This time I'm going to stick to it. Really. It's two people writing one blog... how hard can it be?

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