Adaptability

I think the hardest, yet most exciting thing about traveling is “adapting” to the new place you are in. For the past year I have been living in my parents house where we have a lady clean our home once a week, where I have my own bedroom, we have four TV’s and an endless supply of yummy food in our fridge (everything to my liking and needs). I was able to drive my car whenever and wherever my heart desired, I was in constant contact with my friends because I had a blackberry, I could take a shower barefoot in a nice luxurious shower and I had the privacy to walk around naked in my room before changing into one of my MANY outfits.

When I left home, a snow storm was brewing. I made it out of the country just in time and missed the “BIG CHILL of 2010”, thank GOD! I landed in B.A. in the early morning on a Friday and was literally slapped in the face with the humidity and heat. The smell of summer was great (haha Yasmine) and I loved driving to my new home with the cab window rolled down, wind blowing through my hair. I knew at that moment this was the beginning of a 6 month vacation.

Arriving at the “Road house” was a bit shocking to say the least. I won’t go into too much detail about day one at the Road house, but I will say that I was hot as HELL, literally, sooo hot. I was overtired, and a little bit uneasy about what I was getting myself into…all alone. I was immediately taken into my room- 14. Room 14 has four beds, is very tiny, but has a beautiful window with a great breeze. I was assigned top bunk 14 A, cubby 14 -A , closet 14-A and drawers 14-A, and was then taken up to the third floor of our “hostel/dorm/apartment/three-floored town house” and shown my locker. Each person residing in the Road house is given a locker which has two plates, one bowl, a mug and a cup…it’s as though I am living in an orphanage, at the age of 24 or a rehab center? I don’t know how else to describe my “new home”. It is actually kind of comical to me because it is so drastically different than anything I am used to.

I live in what the other roadies describe as a sorority house. There are 19 girls and 6 boys, who all share ONE sink, two refrigerators, one microwave, and limited counter space. The six girls on the first floor share two toilets and two showers- both which clog every single time they are used and then flood the bathroom floor. I wear my shower shoes every time I shower, I claimed a tiny corner in one of the fridges (it has low energy, so everything I buy goes bad quickly because it is not kept cold enough) and I talk on video chat and on the phone with friends and family out in the main room for every one to hear because it’s the only place that internet reception is good.

I am proud to say, I have only complained ONCE about my circumstances. It’s been easy to adjust because it feels like a college dorm. There are people pre-gaming with 8 peso bottles of Malbec wine (about $2) on any given night, there is always someone to talk to or hang out with etc. It is nice to be around people all the time especially since most people are from America and similar to me (however, this does make the culture shock of moving to this city feel nonexistent).

I will be living in the Road house for two more weeks (I only signed up to live here for a month- time is flying) and will then move into an apartment with my current roommate –Leigh. Although I am excited to move into a place where things will be less hectic, I will miss the roadies around all the time, the late night talks and guitar playing, sharing drunken munchies at 6am, and the constant energy and excitement the road house and its’ inhabitants radiate. I have met some pretty fabulous people in the past two weeks and it has made “adapting” that much easier.

Although the Road house has Blanca (she cleans up our messes every single day, speaks little English, but works her butt off and is a rock star) every single thing that I had back home, is the total opposite here and I am doing just fine. I share my bedroom with two other people, therefore can’t freely walk around in the nude like I used to haha, we have ONE TV that is always occupied by the guys watching sports, the fridge is filled with foreign things that I am still learning about, I don’t have a car- so I have become a pro walker and subte (metro) rider, I have a cheap Nokia cell phone that I can barely work, I take showers with flip-flops on and I have a limited supply of cute outfits. Oh, I don’t even own a straightener, curler OR blow dryer, so I’ve just let my hair down and been totally natural (it’s reminding me of my 10 days in Greece where it was too hot to wear makeup and so pointless to even attempt doing ones hair). Despite all these changes and adjustments, I am so happy, at ease and thankful for the “life change”. It is nice to live more simply with less “stuff”. It reminds me of what’s really important.

Although on day one, I sat on my bunk bed, sweating, scared, wondering what the hell I decided to do this for; it is all clear to me now; to grow and learn independently. I love it here, just like I knew I would. I love that I can adjust to the changes, I’m proud that I can be outgoing and make new friends wherever I go and laugh at the annoying things I have NO control over. Like I said at the beginning of this entry, “the hardest, yet most exciting thing about traveling is “adapting” to the new place you are in”. The excitement stems from the fact that you CAN adapt and adjust to your surroundings; you CAN go with the flow because you have to. You will get over that “missed train”, stolen wallet, wrong direction, weird dinner order, and all the other things that happen. We don’t have a choice but to accept the turns that throw us right? I have learned this lesson many times before throughout my life, but traveling always confirms it. A wise friend once told me “Katrina, don’t take yourself/life so damn seriously”. Great advice…it’s so much more fun to laugh at the strange and annoying things and just go with the flow!

Besos,

Katrina