Friday, July 8, 2011

embracing my inner hippie

Mendoza is a small city compared to larger cities. It's a large city compared to smaller cities. Some say that it's a beautiful city. Some say it's an ugly city. I'm learning that all things are relative.

Mendoza is a city. And like all cities, it repulses you at first with its mixture of cement and aggression. The air hangs in polluted clouds from the few sick trees. The nighttime sky is up-staged by the street lights, billboards, and dance clubs. The waters, if any, ooze with discarded consumables. Yes, the city is an unnatural infection on the Earth ... and then you realize that you're still here after 10 days. It sucks you in. It comforts you in its chaos. You feel a part of something bigger, a larger churning mass of bodies, currency, energy, and fashion. You can alternate being invisible and important. Life is unhealthy, but you chose to make excuses rather than life-style changes. Life is fast, and you love the adrenaline. Yup, it's very hard to leave the city.

So it comes as no big surprise that I'm still here. Yes, I got trapped. But I'm ok with it. Everything is flowing just fine.

So why am I still here? What am I doing with my time?

I've met some fantastic people. Diego, Caro, Anita, Fer, Ale, Vero, and Jero (from San Rafael) are all part of the Mendoza couchsurfing community. Among others of course. Diego is letting me stay at his house. I've, once again, invaded the kitchen of yet another house. Sauteeing veggies, kneading bread, simmering broths, spicing up casseroles, soups, salads... There is always a little fernet, pisco, wine or homebrewed beer involved. Of course. And then we hit the clubs. Dancing the night away to cumbia, reggaeton, rock. Suddenly it's almost 6am and they're turning on the lights and turning off the music. The next day starts slowly. Rinse repeat.

But it's not all partying. I promise. Remember those little recycled wallets made out of wine boxes? Well, I've made quite a bunch. And I sit in Plaza Independencia with my bike and my mate, trying to get tourists to buy them. Yes, I am a plaza hippie.

The plaza hippies are the best. They've taken me under their colorful dreadlocked wings. They give me suggestions, show me new art forms, patiently teach me how to juggle. Really really good fun. So there I am, sitting cross-legged on the ground, twisting wire into earrings. Still getting the hang of it. Practice practice practice. Inventing. Creating. Recycling!

What I love about it, is that it's fun. Art is fun. As kids, we are artists. We understood the importance of creativity, invention, and having fun. As adults, we lose that. We have more important responsibilities. We immerse ourselves in worry, stress, and deadlines. What happened to the fun?

Well, I don't know about you, but I'm taking my life back. This is MY life, world. I will do with it what I want, thank you very much. Life is so beautiful and so precious. I can't just let it pass. Every moment is a possibility. An opportunity. For growth, for beauty, for learning, and for happiness. So I'm going to take advantage, dammit. I'm going to learn creation. I'm going to learn to play the guitar. The harmonica. The vocal chords. I'm going to learn everything.

I've also been doing a lot of thinking. About my current goals, projects, mission. About the "what now?" and "what next?" questions. And I think I've figured out a few tenative answers.

What now?

Learn. Learn all those skills I've never had time, energy or interest in learning. Music. Art. Circus tricks. Magic. Whatever. Enrich my person. Add depth to my repertoire of life skills. Do a little bit of everything.

What next?

Cordoba. Sustainabilty living community. Perhaps even a real-ish type job.

When?

When the time is right.

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