A year ago today, a friend of mine left Peru. As is tradition with most travelers, she gifted all the things too cumbersome to bring along. I ended up with a yoga mat, a bottle of wine, and an child’s orange notebook.
“Chaq Chao’s Balcony @ Sunset 8/28/18” is three pages long. After that is an unintelligible Spanish essay that gives me proof my Spanish is much better now. There are two contracts with myself: one saying I will talk to more strangers, another bonding me to online teaching for 2 months straight. Both are witnessed by myself in a different pen color.
There are pages and pages of plans that came to life derivative from what was written. All surround the same themes and dreams; things I think of as new to me have existed in one form or another for months. Distinct trends emerge. Stress produces thoughts of going home and longing for scattered friends. There’s a ranged period of fear, lasting between a moment and a month depending on the accompanying level of free time. And then, there’s action – a specific decision node that shifts potential to reality. Everything changes… for a while. The plan falters or fails and the cycle happens a month or two later.
Currently, I have a lost notebook in Arizona, Tennessee, Arequipa, and Mendoza. I am cursed to lose these notebooks right as I finish the last page. So, I’ll lose this one in Buenos Aires. But I’m starting to thing that each one isn’t too different from the last. That is both reassuring and suggestive of an unwillingness to solve core problems. Some problems take longer to realize, I guess. I’m ending this one “A Year Long Realization: Buenos Aires, Negro Cafe 8/28/19”.
Thanks for taking a sip,