The Big Guy Above

Sometimes it's hard to see the U.S. for what it is until you leave it. There's a blinding comfort zone at home that is not only ubiquitous, but I'd strive to say it's our source of refuge from the tenebrous world outside. We hear the stories, read the articles, and watch the movies about this world. However, it's all on the other side of the ocean, on the other side of the planet, or on the other side of the border fence. Thus, it's easy to walk securely down our tidy sidewalks to the next Starbucks on the corner and completely remove ourselves. Out of sight out of mind, right? When you remove yourself from beneath that blanket you get to see not only what other countries think of you, but what your country has that makes it unique.

The last time I left the U.S. I saw the American culture for what it is; I had the outsider perspective. One thing I never realized was how many flags we have waving above our homes and offices. It's as if we have just conquered a new frontier and the only way to show it is by draping our stars and stripes over a pole for everyone to see. Of course, this is a symbol of our pride. It's a symbol of all the sacrifices our forefathers have made. I would've never seen this had it not been for my departure from the U.S. However, other countries view this as a pretentious display of world domination and policing. My grandparents once explained to me that after WW2, American pride flourished not just nationally, but internationally; the world loved us (albeit besides the Germans and Japanese). At what point did that change?

This time, I have seen the economic effects of America. I have just entered my second country in three that nationally accepts the U.S. dollar. In fact, El Salvador has gone as far as endorsing it as their official currency. But the economic prominence does not just stop at the currency. It is reflected in the second-hand clothes from America that have been sent to these countries (in fact, almost every 2nd or 3rd world country I've been to has these old American clothes). It is reflected in the old school buses used for transportation, the music playing on some radio stations, the Burger King and Subway on the corner, and the movies and shows on TV. Even the Latino music has started using the auto-tune, regrettably, after the popular acceptance in American pop music. It's as if all of these countries are the second-hand economies and cultures of America.

Some of these countries have taken so much from the American culture that it's easy to make comparisons to our own country. From the fat guy wearing the Minnesota t-shirt to the drunk guy with a hat proudly displaying an eagle carrying the U.S. flag to college kids talking about the the conservative, close-minded peons. You'll even see some skinny jeans occasionally. There are still those key elements that are missing though - animal control, registering of guns and concealed weapon permits, government housing, street sweepers, fines for littering, and passing lines on the road. These are some of the things that will always set the U.S. apart and always keep me coming back to the U.S. You can't second-hand everything from the big guy above.

Off To A Foreign Land

Tomorrow morning I leave for San Salvador. This is always an anxious time as the excitement and fear of the unknown come closer to reality. As the checklist gets smaller and smaller, so too does my patience for deciding what clothes I should bring, whether I have all of the right medications, or if I've taken care of everything at home. They say cut your clothes in half and double your money before you do any travel. If I did that I'd be naked in the middle of Panama with no money begging for an empanada. Here's to hoping they take kindly to naked foreigners speaking mediocre Spanglish.

It's also in this moment that I realize what an opportunity I have to do this. The ability to do long-term travel, let alone any international travel, is something that isn't accessible to everyone. I have to thank my parents for the opportunities I've been given in life, my grandparents for the hopes of a fulfilled life, my brother for the pursuit of dreams, and my friends for insight into all facets of life. They have all realized my life goals aren't the same as others and thus, have fully supported me in my sometimes capricious escapades.

The plan is two months in Central America followed by two months in South America, all by bus (minus the initial flight to San Salvador to skip over Mexico). The last time I traveled I realized what an illusion plane flights are. I flew from Bangkok to Istanbul in about 12 hours to awake in a completely different landscape with completely different cultures. This isn't a true representation of the world; It's a time-warp. You walk in a door, read and sleep, walk back out of the door, and you're in a new world. I want to see the change in land, people, food, music, even accents. This leads to slower, yet richer travel. Plus I help out the environment: bonus!

So in this moment I must relax and realize what this is all about - exploiting countries where the dollar actually has more buying power. What, like I want to go to Europe and travel for one week just to find myself broke and naked in Paris? No way, I've seen Taken. In all seriousness, this is about the adventure and experience of travel. It's about the two-way street I'll take when interacting with cultures. It's about the chance I have and the sacrifices I've made to have it. It's about learning the world and my place in it. Travel is the ultimate catalyst to find what was already there - you.

One Small Step For Man

I’ve done this before. Yep, I’ve been here before. I’ve had these same thoughts, these same ideas, these same urges. The difference now is that I have a whole hell of a lot more understanding.

My first aberration was right after I graduated college. I heard the same things then that I do now: admonishing remarks of losing my place. What exactly is my place? Is it to sit behind that 20 in. monitor? Is it to buy that house? Is it to meticulously word-smith emails or click the mouse like a monkey?

I have friends who have been “living the dream” since we all graduated. They constantly receive specious praises of jealousy and adornments of vicariousness from those who aren’t losing their place. Having a career, I was privy to the candor of these phrases: “The drifters are throwing away their years. They aren’t moving toward anything. They live their lives haphazardly and with no regard for the consequences.”

After years of reflection at my computer screen, I’ve found those statements to be complete bullshit. In fact, I think these dream-chasers are doing it right. We spend our lives working toward the financial well-being to retire and then try to live the life that these people already are. It’s like we are waiting to ripen and our nourishment is the career, the house, the Roth. Coincidentally, these very things that we feel will set us free are what actually hold us back.

Perhaps I’m ripe now. Maybe I’m that resplendent mango with a rainbow of color, not the emerald one waiting to be shipped out. If I wait too long, will I be too soft to eat? I’m not even guaranteed to make it to consumption. What if my keeper drops me? What if I roll out of the bag of groceries into the street, only to be run over by the speeding Porsche trying to get to the 9-5 job? What if my Roth bombs, my house tanks in the market, and my wife leaves me with a stifling alimony?

I think the general populace is too scared to live their dream for fear of not being in line. They are worried that the line gets too long and if you aren’t in front, you aren’t getting in. I can assure you that the line out front isn’t the only way in to the party. My dream-chasing friends have found this out. Now, it’s time I faithfully get out of line. Again…