Amistad

Everything in life can turn into an addiction. There are things that are addictive by nature, like alcohol, drugs, sex and smoking. There are also very ordinary, everyday things that become addictions, like shopping, eating, watching TV, video games, love. As a Pisces, a dreamer and hopeless romantic, I am no stranger to addiction. Right now, my weakness, my quiet obsession is travel. I have been pretty much working and living to travel for the past three and a half years and I cannot imagine my life without it.

Lately, I have been questioned by friends of mine who don't travel, trying to understand this incessant need. Why? Why do I feel the need to be abroad, to move, to explore? Seriously, you can really only see so many ruins, museums and colonial churches before they lose their over all flair.

These past 2 weeks in Mexico City, I think I may have found part of the answer. Traveling for me is all about maintaining a social high. I love connecting with people from all over the world. I love living and loving fluently in another language. I thrive off cultural intimacy.
These past 2 weeks in Mexico City, I met a great little group of really exceptional people. I am not even sure if we are all that exceptional in our own right, but together we sure make one hell of a crew.
It's moments, however long or short, like these past 2 weeks in Mexico City, where the energy between people mingles in perfect harmony. It's those unrepeatable moments that just get me off.

I first arrived at Hostel Amigo at 7am on a cold dark Mexico City morning fresh from a 6 hour overnight bus from Oaxaca. I had boarded my D.F. bound bus at 12:30am the night before, the Wednesday before official Mexican spring break began. The bus station in Oaxaca had been packed to the point where one could hardly get to the buses. I felt sorry for everyone there. I could only imagine them on their crowded buses headed for Puebla, San Cristobal or the beach. I wasn't worried though. Just as I had suspected, there were only about 8 of us on our way to the big city, so we had the bus to ourselves. That's the trick of Semana Santa in Mexico. Don't go to the beach or any other tourist destination. Go to the big cities like Guadalajara or Mexico City. It's vacation time. Everyone leaves the cities.

Regardless of how much space you have on the bus though. Overnight buses are never refreshing. I arrived at the hostel groggy and went straight to my bed and slept. It wasn't until the next day, Good Friday, that I went to the bar, chatted it up with the hostel staff and noticed that the place had been overtaken by a group of Aussies. Now, don't get me wrong. Aussies do travel quite a bit, Asia, Europe, the States, but to have 20 or so random Aussies staying at the same hostel in Mexico City at the same time is quite the anomaly. Some would go and more would arrive so that for 2 weeks there was nice steady flow of Australians.

Everybody has their distinct travel style. I am more of a homebody traveler. For me, it's not about seeing as many sights as I can and then moving onto the next destination. I like to take my time in one place, get to know its idiosyncrasies and its idiots, for that matter. At Hostel Amigo, I met 2 Australians who shared my style.

Damien was ending his 3 month stint in Mexico, Belize and Guatemala by enjoying D.F. for a couple weeks. This was Damien's first trip away from Australia and he chose to come all the way to Mexico. His friends thought he was crazy to come so far and not speak Spanish. He said he couldn't have enjoyed himself more.

Nicole's trip to Mexico was a little more complex. She arrived Friday morning and was staying in my dorm room. Nicole went to Cuba 2 years ago and fell in love. She ended up marrying a Cuban and is in the process of trying to get her Cuban to Australia. The process is lengthy, bureaucratic and costly. Because getting residency in Cuba would hurt her husband's chances of escape, Nicole has to leave Cuba every 2 months. She comes to Mexico. Not only does she renew her her Cuban visa, but she shops. She buys razors, perfume, belts and license plate holders, smuggles them in to Cuba and sells them on the black market. I learned a lot about Cuba by hanging out with her.

Attracted first by our need for strong coffee, we would meet in the mornings at Starbucks. Nicole and I would go together and be joined by a sleepy-eyed Damien about a half-an-hour later. Other random travelers would come and chat, but the three of us became thick as thieves over hangover-curing lattes and hostel gossip.

One of the things that makes Hostel Amigo a great place to stay is their downstairs bar. Serving only beer and tequila to the guests, this is where even more friendships are made. The people who work at the hostel are also great people. Damien found his Mexican kindred spirit in one of the bartenders. Carlos is one of the lucky Mexicans who found his way to the US legally and even found himself a US passport. His impeccable English and his taste in rock music turned Damien into a fast friend. Carlos, Nicole and I became fast friends just because we were all cool in the same way. This is the beauty of traveling friendships. There are no pretenses and not a lot of time. Travelers are not weighted down by daily mundane tasks. People are more open to give and receive. Deep bonds are made as fast and lasting as unforgettable memories.

My original plan was to stay in Mexico City only for a couple of days, but the days and nights filled themselves with favors, drinking and conversation until weeks passed. I went shopping with Nicole to buy things for Cuba. I met other people with whom I went about exploring the city. Damien was enlisted to help Nicole with her largest purchase of perfume. He had the task of hauling the 50 kilos, literally 100 lbs, of perfume from the store to the hostel. Carlos had to help carry the suitcase up the stairs to our room.

Our nights were spent at the bar. On quiet nights, our crew would play cards or Nicole and I would dance salsa with Luis, Ariel, Javier, and Adrian, other hostel employees. We would talk about everything. Carlos even celebrated a birthday during this time. He unfortunately had to work the bar at Hostel Amigo's sister hostel, La Moneda. Hostel Moneda is not set up as well as Hostel Amigo and the bar is very boring. Damien and I brought him a cake and sat with him as he served the 4 customers of the night.

Not all nights were quiet, however. Like I said, the hostel was filled with Australians and Aussies certainly know how to party. For a couple of days, a group of 4 young Aussie boys were at the hostel. Two of them turned 21 a day apart. Those were two particularly wild nights at the bar. A lot of tequila was poured and beer bottles emptied. The bar was packed. As tight little cliques can be sometimes, the 4 of us wanted to experience the night together, so Carlos told us to come over to his side of the bar. Before we knew it, Damien and I were busy serving beers and taking cash.

Maybe it sounds silly, all of this love for fleeting moments of intimacy, but it really is a special feeling. I loved being behind the bar and working in unison with those 2 guys. I loved it that people actually thought I worked at the hostel and asked me how I got the job there. I served beers, gave travel advice and met a lot of people. Nothing becomes more clear when traveling than the fact that there are no coincidences. The simple fact that a certain group of individuals from distinct parts of the world end up in the same place at the same time is cosmic. Traveling also brings a certain sad truth to clarity as well unfortunately. The sad truth that all great things come to an end.

That is the constant of addiction, the constant high and low. The highest point of this binge came with Nicole's good-bye party. It was one of those nights where everything felt right and the love was flowing. Damien, Carlos and I were behind the bar. Nicole was on the other side of the bar doing what she loves, dancing salsa. There was a lot of hugging, kissing and giving thanks for having met people as cool as us. I don't want to get all New Age or anything, but it was one of those nights where the energy was pure, high and wholly positive. Everyone in the bar was present and exchanging ides and vibes. It was a great night that ended with Carlos telling Damien and I that the 3 of us had sold $4000 pesos worth of drinks, almost the highest amount of sales in the history of the bar.

Life is all about change though and nothing lasts forever. Nicole's good-bye party started the chain of good-byes. Even Carlos was planning his own good-bye party as he moves to the States to go to school. There always promises made when you give your farewells. There are promises to write, to visit, to never change. Sometimes these promises are kept. Sometimes they aren't and with these people, I can't tell you if I will ever see them again. This is when the high ends, the crash comes and traveling turns into an addiction. These moments of adios is when loneliness hits and the reality of travel appears. It makes me wonder. What is the definition of a "close friend"? What does it mean to be a "friend"? What does it mean to be "close"?