The Life of a Ghost (Brazil to Bolivia)

It seems to haunt me wherever I go. I could have easily stayed in Brazil my whole trip, or at least until my visa ran out if it weren’t for the whisper, “the world awaits. . .”

Back on the road again. I stayed in Brazil for six weeks, instead of the two that I expected which is speeding up my whole trip a bit now. It was sad to leave Brazil, I stayed there longer than I have stayed anywhere that I can think of. It was a tearful goodbye to a close group of some of my favorite people that I have ever met.

But, sitting in a shopping mall in Annapolis, a nondescript industrial Brazilian town pretty much in the middle of nowhere, waiting for my bus that was due to depart in 7 hours; an 18 hour bus followed by another wait in a bus station and an 8 hour bus followed by sleeping in another bus station before going across a notoriously sketchy boarder to board a train that is actually called “The Death Train,” for 30 hours to jump on another bus for 12 hours with maybe a night’s rest in between that one, and I was sublimely happy.

I wonder how much of my life I have spent waiting in bus stations and other random places for buses to depart. More than your average person, I can assure myself of that. But for some reason, instead of minding it, it feels like a part of life to me.

Bus stations are places of tremendous energy for me. I love the possibility of them. I can jump on a bus to anywhere if I wanted to. I love having options.

Travel for me, is pure freedom. It is absolutely addicting in its freedom and I have no idea how I will ever settle down to a normal life. The only thing that has ever come close to that kind of freedom was when I used to gallop my horse as fast as she could run up a steep hill, bareback. I couldn’t even steer her, just hang on for dear life and trust. I suppose travel parallels that in a myriad of ways.

I realized that when I travel, I move like a ghost. In fact, because of all the time I have spent traveling, I have spent far more time only as a ghostly presence in this world the last few years than I have as a human being. What I mean by that is the fact that most of the time, absolutely no one in the world knows exactly where on this planet that I am. I can tell people what my itinerary is, but it changes more often than not. And I also know that what I am doing, most people cannot relate too or even picture. It makes me view the world differently as a ghost.

I love how I never know who I may meet on a day on the road. I don’t always know where I will go. The possibilities are endless and every day has potential to be life-altering. How does someone who craves freedom and possibility as much as I do ever cram back into a routine?

As we grow up and decisions are made, people always talk about all the things that we gain. But as we and our friends make irrevocable choices, possibilities are limited; whether it be a friend we have always seen potential with getting married, people having babies which will change their lifestyle forever, a career choice or moving choice, people we care about moving away or us deciding on a new place to settle. And yes, much is gained. But people only seem to talk about what is gained as we grow up, but what about all the options and chances that we lose as things are limited and decided?

Some people are ready to close those other options. But me, I prefer my freedom right now. I love my life as a ghost. As I ride along the marshy swampland on the bus, I wonder if I will spend the night in Brazil or Bolivia tonight. I am happy.