Departing the Coast

Traveling, like life itself, involves two specific points around all else revolves. There is the point of arrival, and the point of departure. Arriving is the easiest of two as anyone can arrive, but departing is an entirely different story all together. When one departs he must say goodbye to everything he´s come to know, and the longer the stay the harder the goodbye.

Snaking out of the dark-lit hillside along the coast, departing from the small town of Rio Chico towards Puerto Lopez, a city of shimmering lights out in the distance nestled in along the Pacific Ocean I experienced a strong feeling of sadness for what I was leaving behind. When I was still a child while traveling with my family I always remained attached to the places we would visit and before we left each place, each destination, I took several minutes to absord everything we had just experienced and take a snapshot with my eyes for fear that I might forget. What I didn´t know then, and still might not know now, is that I would always forget, not everything, but most things.

Rio Chico is some place I will never forget, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst. Not only because I spent three months living there as a student of Anthropology, but more so because the place has grown on me like an extra limb I never knew I needed. The people there are like an extension of my being and leaving them behind again and again become quite wearisome. I´m not sure what home is anymore, maybe its not just a place, but rather a memory or a feeling evoked by thoughts and emotions, but Rio Chico is certainly one of those places that I would call home. Saying goodbye tonight was just as hard as it was when I left seven months ago. Sometimes I´m afraid that it will be my final goodbye, and sometimes I´m even afraid of coming back for fear I´ll never leave. If I´m confusing you at all its only because I´m so confused myself.

Danny and I depart the coast tomorrow heading towards Cuenca, a large city in the southern highlands of Ecuador. Cuenca is a beautiful and charming city, someplace I could see myself living and settling down, but I depart the coast in a sea of tears and regrets for things I promised myself, but never came true. We´ll just be passing through Cuenca on our way south towards Peru. The uncertainty of what lies ahead, and the immensity of the journey that spreads out before us escapes notice and revels in the delight of the heart not knowing what adventures we are bound to encounter. I look forward to cool air of the sierra, the snowcapped peaks and the swift running rivers. I hope our plans our not derailed by some unforseen circumstance, but all we have is hope as the future is untold till we finally arrive.

I look forward to leaving Ecuador and venturing into unknown lands, it just happens to be a coincidental and perhaps intentional set of cirucmstance that I´ve been reliving my last trip to Ecuador in an exact backwards manner. This time I don´t leave for Riobamba to a fateful encounter with Veronica, shuffling off to Banos for a romantic getaway, down into Puyo and finally to Macas to work with the shaman Hilarion Chiriap and the native medicine ayahuasca, but rather I leave to Cuenca, onto Loja down to the Peruvian border in the high hope of making a flight from Lima to Cusco by the end of the month with my brother and best friend Danny seated by my side.

Danny, despite hís faults (mainly eating too fast and walking to slowly) has turned out to be a good choice of traveling partner. He´s open to new experiences and unjudgemental with everyone and everything he encounters. He complains sometimes, but not more than myself or anyone else, and has stuck to his vegetarian diet despite all obstacles oppossed his ethics. Once again we depart and arrive. I feel I´m being a little to sentimental with all these goodbyes, but the heart is a troublesome creature and if one wishes to travel for any decent length of time he must accustom himself to its intentions, and the heart never lies. Goodnight!