Getting Started

I'm 23 years old. I graduated college 2 years ago with a degree in English Literature from San Diego State University. Now if you ask me what I've been doing with my time since then I can only say that I've been lost. Wandering, searching, discovering, running away, running towards, and hopscotching through experiences in my life that I have left in the irresponsible hands of traveling. Some people may interpret that as not having a job. My parents some days seem like they are worried and other days proud. When I meet people and they ask me what I do and when I reply "travel" I can never tell if their responses are sympathetic, jealous, impressed, unimpressed, curious, or amazed at the fact that I do not have a job. I just the other day got a template to write my first resume. 

        In the past two years I have traveled to 4 countries and am about to discover a 5th. I have taken at least 24 planes, a couple of train rides, scooter rides, motorcycles, and boats. I have slept in over 15 different beds. I have surfed in the most amazing places of the world, sometimes walking for an hour without seeing a single human being. I have hiked and driven and have gotten lost. I've gotten injured and sick. I've been scared and also so happy I've cried. I've bribed cops out of getting tickets, and I've been in situations that I wondered if I would ever make it out of them. I have revisited my childhood and found a bag I used to keep my teeth for the tooth fairy when I was younger. I'm not sure if most people will find this interesting, but I do.

        I was originally born in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and came to the U.S. when I was 8 years old. That was when my childhood got packed into boxes that would not be opened until this January 2010. I am not an American citizen. I have a green card. If you met me, you would think I was joking. I speak flawless english- I mean come on I'm a Lit major. My brain is a very confusing place. Somedays it speaks English and some days it speaks Portuguese. If I'm counting something I'll start in one language and finish in the other. Over my 23 years of living my identity has become an entanglement of memories (some of which I'm still not sure are real or made up), smells, nostalgic feelings and seeds I have planted everywhere I've gone. I'm not sure I have a place to call home, or which place I should call home. Maybe that is where I get my nomadic urges. Since I was 18 years old I have worked as an L.A. County Lifeguard at the beach during the summers. That job has given me not only the opportunity to be able to travel during the winter months, but also a great sense of self confidence and an urge to want to help people. There have been days where if I had not been at the right place, at the right time - someone would have died. And for that reason I find peace in helping others. 

        Now that I've started this blog it's as if I'm not even sure where to begin. Nicaragua, Brazil, Indonesia, New York, California. The fact that I'm completely foreign and when I arrive in Brazil with my passport the officials say "welcome home" and when I arrive in the States with my green card they repeat the same phrase. This blog will be an experiment for myself. Not only to share the tales of my travels, but to figure out what in the world I am doing with my life, and seriously - where do I belong?