January 4th. I’m on a flight to Berlin. I’d like to say I’m headed "home," but I’ve come to understand that "home" is something I carry within me. It’s been six months and a few days since I started my journey around the world on July 1st.
Returning feels strange; it’s as if nothing has changed, time has flown by, and others barely noticed my absence. But I am not the same person. I’ve had so many experiences that have changed me. I traveled with a backpack containing two pairs of pants, five T-shirts, swimsuits, sandals, and sneakers, and I visited both hot and cold places with the same clothes. My wardrobe at “home” is bursting, and I wonder why. I ate only once a day, and it was absolutely sufficient; I felt fine. I walked and swam so much that it felt normal to do so. Why do I have to stop now? Why can’t this be my normal? I spent so much time looking at the sky and the sea, waiting to see fish jump or birds dive. I wasn’t bored; I finally had time to think about myself. Sure, you can’t always be alone staring at the sea, but why do I have to completely eliminate this from my daily life?
I’ve asked myself many questions like these. I haven’t found answers yet, but I know I will. I need to find a compromise between the life most of us live and the life most of us want to live. I met many people living the life we want to live, but they seek the life we want to leave behind. Sure, you can’t have it all, and perfection doesn’t exist; you always desire what you don’t have. But there must be a middle ground. I believe I’ve realized that leaving the sea out of my daily life was too great a sacrifice. On the other hand, I also think that when I was studying in Florence, I didn’t go to the sea often, and when I lived in Pisa, I didn’t go every day. So, what should I do? It’s not like I can go to the sea once a month.
Different continents have taught me so much, and from these lessons, I will find my answers slowly and enjoy returning home.
Africa taught me that being black or white still makes a difference. We delude ourselves into thinking that racism is fading, but it’s not. There are other types of racism, those dictated by politics always aimed at benefiting a few. Africa is a wonderful country where people are very welcoming, but it is still a dangerous place for both whites and blacks. Politics is exacerbating internal conflicts, making it almost impossible for whites to find work because companies are favored if the percentage of people of color they hire exceeds a certain threshold. In fact, the “blacker” a company is, the better. This leads whites to start businesses, having no other job opportunities, and hire people of color. You can see how counterproductive this is because it’s always the white person in power. I was lucky to be born in Europe, but I am ashamed of what we did in the colonies in Africa and other colonies around the world. The situation in South Africa is terrible for those who live there, and no one talks about it. People think Mandela fixed everything. Tourists fall in love with the country and leave full of the beauty of this incredible place, but not everyone understands what is happening.
In any case, South Africans agree that all animals have the right to live freely, and it is possible to coexist even with the most dangerous ones. You can swim where there are sharks or go in an open car to see lions in their habitat. I learned to look at vast spaces without human presence and to be grateful for nature, which does just fine without us. Take, for example, the semi-desert of Karoo or Semogkong. I learned that bananas are delicious and have nothing to do with the ones we eat, that fruit, in general, is sweet and succulent, and that rooibos tea (red tea) is delicious, especially if you dip Rusks (hard biscuits) in it. In short, a country rich in contradictions that seems to me to have improved compared to two years ago when I first visited, but still marked by strong internal conflicts.
Asia taught me to look at fish and corals with different eyes, to be careful where I step in the water, to pray to their deities for the well-being and health of the sea, to plant corals, to slow down and be happy with very little, to pick fruits from trees when they are ripe, and to be grateful for the sun and the rain. It also taught me that if you don’t live near the sea in summer, the heat in Asia is exhausting, the humidity is very high, and you have to drink a lot to avoid dehydration. In short, it’s not a favorable climate for me; I suffered greatly from the hot humidity of big cities like Jakarta and Bangkok.
I also learned that religion profoundly marks a country and its people. Hindus and Buddhists are peaceful and tolerant people. Despite extreme poverty, they seem to find joy in small things, family, and friends. I found Muslims to be very strict. In Malaysia, on the Perhentian Islands, the days were marked by the Minaret, which broadcasted a prayer, I believe, through a microphone to all the surrounding islands. The locals didn’t seem very interested, but this chant lasted for hours. Many people in Southeast Asia don’t know how to swim (I’m not sure if it’s a religious issue, honestly), and women and girls stayed in the water fully clothed despite the extreme heat. Indonesians are mostly Hindu, and a taxi driver told me he frowned upon the arrival of Muslims because they want to change their country. Changing a country for one’s convenience has been done many times and almost always goes wrong, not only for religious reasons but also for bullying the country’s resources.
In short, we never learn, my dear friends.
Oceania enchanted me. Besides breathtaking landscapes, which can be discovered in other parts of the world, it taught me to stop and look with all my senses. Try it the next time you’re immersed in nature; you’ll find that your senses activate when questioned. It’s really impossible to describe the sensations you feel; a poet could surely do it. I can only selfishly say: don’t go. These are distant countries, difficult to reach, and expensive. Fortunately, because this preserves them from being overrun. There are islands overrun by tourists, but the most beautiful ones are lost in the sea, and you can only go if you really want to, without thinking about time and money. It’s absolutely possible to spend little, but you have to make sacrifices and have a lot of time available.
In Oceania, we almost completely exterminated the indigenous peoples. The Maori people, a great people of navigators, are being reborn. Maori culture is told everywhere in Oceania; I saw various themed museums. There are also contradictions, beautiful things, and ugly things like in all peoples. I always view with suspicion those who exalt a people only with positive adjectives. Even the old Maori peoples had negative sides, such as being cannibals, for example. They are no longer, but even that must be seen in the context of those distant times and finds logic there, even if it’s impossible for us to understand. In any case, they are very connected to nature.
America remains the land of a thousand possibilities. You can reinvent yourself as many times as you want and at any age, but it made me reflect a lot on how easy it is to fall. Maybe that’s why you always have to start over. It’s possible to rise again, but why do we fall? Well, I learned that anything is possible if you want it, but you have to do things right, or you’ll fall.
Europe is home. I’ve returned to my climates, my food, my people, friends, and family, in addition to the beauty and culture of these countries.
I have changed.
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