Lost at home

I hit pause on traveling for a while. It's a pause on living life on the road, but it isn't a pause on new adventures. The thing with being a traveller is that every little detail in life will surprise you. I've enjoyed every commute to work, even those where I thought I wasn't going to make it out alive.

For a moment I forgot about it. I forgot that life is an adventure, a track with highs and lows. Somehow I felt like a bird who had lost it's wings. I was depressed, tried to kick myself out of it by going out with some friends, accepting every invite anywhere. But I still felt I kept going down and there was no way out. My life seemed without meaning. The idea of not being out there, traveling and keep moving was very overwhelming.

Everyone kept asking the same questions: what's next? Where to next? What's your plan? How long will you stay here? Anxiety kicked in every time and all I wanted was to go back to my parents' place, lock myself in the studio (my room for the time being), watch series and movies, and don't leave until I had everything figured out. Which I did, except for the part of figuring things out. Still I got no idea of what I wanted.

Being back and seeing everything so different. I felt like I didn't belong, but whenever I said something, people wouldn't understand where I was coming from.

I felt lost, and I was lost. At The Simon Community we described it as cabin fever, for the homeless who suddenly get themselves into a home. Suddenly feeling stuck in four walls, but for me it was being stuck somewhere, unable to keep on traveling, unable to come up with a plan. That's why my room suddenly became my fortress. It was a place where I didn't needed a plan, where I could just be me.



But it wasn't enough, sharing the house with my family and feeling part of a different community led me to a need to contribute in a way. Money wasn't an option. Again like being back at the house in Malden Road the way I found to contribute was by keeping the place in order. But there are no rules in a family, the sense of community is different and somehow parents are supposed to provide to their children, even though they have jobs and spend most of their time outside.

It tore me apart to see how a Mexican family lives, as children we demand from our parents. I felt awful for being so mad whenever my mom asked me to help doing the dishes, my bed or my own laundry. She made me independent; and traveling opened my eyes to the idea that a family is also a community of people helping out.

I guess that was the point where I said enough. I needed to get back out there; not only see friends and hang out with them; but get my life back. The path was unknown, but it was my path. Who cared what people thought, or what their question was. I decided to smile and change the subject. Or perhaps give them what they wanted to hear: it had all been great but I'll stay.

Travellers are a rare species. And there are many different kind of us. Settlers don't get it. How can someone just give up their comfort zone? How can anyone travel on a low budget? Is it possible? Are they crazy?

I hit pause on traveling and forgot I'm not stopping. I won't stop, every moment is part of a big adventure. Being a traveler isn't about being a nomad. It's in our blood, in every small detail and every surprise we get with it. I may not be carrying a backpack nor moving from one place to the next; but I'm traveling because after all, living is the ultimate adventure.

Am I really back home?

Previously I've described myself as a homeless traveler, so how can a homeless be back home? It sounds ironic, and certainly has been very challenging. I'm back in my home country, my home town. I've surrounded myself among friends and family I've missed. But while I was out there traveling and exploring the world, they were continuing living. People got engaged, had babies, got a promotion at work, moved on.

For me it was like hitting a pause button, and now that I'm back the need of fast forwarding to keep up to date has been very overwhelming.

What's next? What is your plan? How long will you stay in Mexico for? These and many other questions have been asked by friends, family and strangers. I have no real answer. I'm of the idea that the best plan is to have no plan. And don't get me wrong, I have a general idea of what I want to do with my life, but I decided not to share it with everyone, and let life surprise me.

When I was living at The Simon Community, I got to see how difficult it was for some of the residents to go from having no place to live to be in a place that had walls. We described it as "Cabin fever". Feeling trapped in a confined space. Now I'm experiencing the same, maybe a bit different because I'm aware. I feel depressed and decide not to leave my room, I could sleep all day. If I leave, I want to stay out as much as possible and being around friends.

I've had some time to think about this; to reflect and let my feelings out.

Somehow I feel that I'm back in a world where money is important. Yes, you read me write, I mean that when I was traveling, money wasn't really that big of a deal. Now I'm back into my parents' house, where my room is the studio, the visitors' room. And I want to go out, explore the city, have fun with friends. But everyone is working, if I want to go out at night, I gotta get a cab to come back; if I order a glass of water with my lunch I get a weird look for not wanting to spend money on drinks.

When I was traveling, I could work on pretty much anything in exchange for food and shelter. I was a waitress, dish washer, farmer, house keeping... anything. And I enjoyed every bit of it, I felt good with myself because I was accomplishing something I wanted. I was traveling. Apparently now that I'm back home that is not good enough, people will look at me as an alien whenever I tell them I want to do any of the jobs previously mentioned. This time instead of food and accommodation (my parents are temporary providing it) I get money. And I will feel proud of myself because I'm having a good time, doing something I like and pursuing my dreams.

I'm not the kind of person who worries about what others think; but it's difficult not to care, or not to listen. It's too much pressure.

Being back home as a homeless traveler it's difficult. I guess the important thing is to remind yourself of your own long-term plan. What do you want out of life? I want to live, to love and to enjoy each moment. Being a homeless traveler doesn't mean you don't have a home, it means you have many of them. That's why it's normal to be homesick once you settle. Now I'm in the first place I called home, I might settle for a while, but home is calling me; I'll go back to the road whenever it's time to do so.

Getting used to goodbyes

"You meet different people each semester, I guess you're used to say goodbye by now" was a comment I got once from an international student in my university. I've made many friends with foreign students and each semester I had to see people leaving hoping we would meet again. My response on that moment was: "you don't get used to say goodbye, it is sad every time". I guess I could add now that you learn that people who matter will stay close to you, even if you are miles apart, or you go without talking for years. During my time in London I spent some days with a friend from High school whom I haven't seen for 10 years. She was a good friend then and it's a good friend now.

It's that moment again, the time for a change in my life, to move and leave my life as I know it behind. It's time for a new adventure. Time to be transplanted somewhere else. I knew this time will come. My time in London was limited and it passed so quickly. When I was traveling I only thought about the new thing, the next journey. Time wasn't spent on good-byes because they were only short trips. Yesterday I realized I'm leaving, and I remembered that it's always sad to say goodbye. So now I'm using these few days as days to sink into the soil that I'm in now, and enjoy. Take the most out of it, enjoy the company of those who will become distant for an uncertain time.

It's great knowing that I'll be missed, and feeling sad about moving on. That's when you know you've made a difference, when you've made an impression and somehow leave a legacy behind you. It's also great to be happy about what's coming up. It keeps you motivated, keeps you going. That bittersweet feeling is telling you you're doing something right in your life, specially if there's more happiness in it.

So the time is soon to come. After a year of travels, I've learnt that people will always be there. A friend will remain your friend, even if time goes by and you don't see again, the memories will remain. It'll be sad, a bit nostalgic leaving people behind, but we need to keep moving, keep living our life. It's never a good-bye, it's a see you later. Even if the later doesn't happen, you can remember there was someone there for you and great memories were created.