Rikarutakuna

Travelers

Argentina

The Couchsurfer thing is working out. I think we're in a Camelot phase; it has taken off enough to bring a lot of people, but they're still the right people, backpackers, trekkers, adventurers; not tourists, not yet. 

Denmark

I'm delighted and, well, kinda astounded by their quality; I find myself using the same words to describe each of them in the online after-action references because they apply; courageous, adventurous, open, good-hearted, energetic, honest, courteous in the true sense; I don't mention that they're usually iconoclasts and borderline outlaws because it would be misread; these people aren't looking for trouble, they're not coming on hard; they feel good. They're digging every sweet second of running free. They've arranged their lives to be able to do that. But they're not buying at the company store. Nor are they mouthing counter-culture platitudes, anybody's propaganda. As I said, I was surprised to find kids like this are out there at all. 

Argentina

And they are young, most of them. I don't think I've had anyone come by over thirty-three; out of maybe forty people who've crashed in my storeroom about a third are around thirty, the rest go down to eighteen. 

Croatia

When I say courageous, I could and do use synonyms running from intrepid to balls-of-steel (women too, in fact the bravest were all told were the motorcycle chicks) but it's the case; these guys go from continent to continent, from border to border, town to town, mountain to desert, in ways I would never have in my vagabond youth had the stamina to do. Never stoney broke as I was, but living on the ragged edge of broke.

Brazil

That they all have in common. They hate to pay for things. If they can sneak into the ruins for which the tourists pay premium, they will. One thing I offer them that you can tell they're going to remember long and with warmth is the back way into the main ruins here.  You should see them climb over that wall. 

Aquitaine, France

They eat at the mercado where the poor folk go, for a fifth of what their domesticated countrymen do a few steps away on the Plaza de Armas. Now that I have a $30 two-burner no-oven gas stove they buy their own fruits and veggies for a few sols (Sol=$0.33) and cook in my place.

Norway

Norway

And if they can't find a couchsurfer to host them, they camp out. 

They go up those mountains like their livingroom floor. They stand with their toes hanging over the precipice. They hike barefoot in the rain.

Germany, Korea

Tell you something else. They're smart. I rate at least one at genius level, maybe three. Several have doctorates or are working on their thesis. One has credentials in philosophy, neuroscience, psychology, and is working on comparative religion. One couple has a microbiologist and a computer scientist programming for microbiology. Yesterday I bid farewell to a history teacher who could analyze and speculate on old inka ruins in tune with me. A professional in aquatic science paired with an eco-carpenter. Musicians, a translator, a kid who's been to 46 countries and just spent five years teaching English in Korea; who has no depth perception but still goes up those scary mountain trails. A fair number of these people are in on the secrets of the mushroom, the cactus, the vine, other doors to perception. They dance, they sing, they laugh, they talk the sutures of your skull wide open. There are still people like this out here. 

Rhone-Alpes, France

Stuff like that. And countries - France, Denmark, the Czech Republic, Norway, Germany, Argentina, Iran, Brazil, Spain, Croatia, Korea, Ecuador, Scotland, two or three from that country just south of Canada - one girl whose parents were Italian and British, who grew up in southern France speaking (and identifying with the) Basque. 

San Diego, United States

If you're reading this you know I'm a loner. I can't live with people. These folk take the edge off the teetering vertigo of total isolation, without threatening that central independence. they have the same need - though I have to say, they usually travel in twos and threes where I travel in ones. But now, one is a pretty friendly number. 

I haven't made a point taking everybody's pic, so what you see is when I happened to have camera at hand.

And, oh, no, I didn't move. Had all my stuff by the front gate but the truck with the guy's cousin at the wheel didn't show up. 

Merry Librarians