the flying nameless Dutchwoman

[devi]

It´s funny the effect losing my bag has had on me. I´d spent weeks carefully constructing this travel self, prepared for every eventuality. Scoured shops for clothes that would cover me up against the insects and dry quickly if I hand-washed them. Packed universal bath plug, two kinds of adaptor, earplugs, a mini-pharmacy. Hunted for tiny toiletries so I wouldn´t have to haul about big bottles of shampoo etc. The careful packing was proof against all the dire warnings and something I used to reassure all the people who were worried about me. It was a mental security blanket. And then it got lost, and I had the odd experience of having to re-buy everything haphazardly, having a foreign rucksack full of unfamiliar Peruvian products and an odd assortment of clothes, all the best of a bad lot rather than anything I´d have chosen. The security blanket is gone, and... I kind of like it. Only having a small bag is brilliant. I´d packed light but this little bag is even lighter. When I´ve been travelling before, the transitional bits between one place to stay and another have been an ordeal. Haul the big heavy bag to the new place as quickly as you can, dump it, lie and gasp for a bit and then explore. This way you can check out of somewhere in the morning, wander around all day, arrive at the next place in the evening and not even be tired. The line between essential and desirable things to bring has moved.

Then there´s language. I know a bit of phrasebook Spanish. I can book things and ask directions and stuff. Somehow (arrogantly, it seems now) I thought this would get me by. I was picking it up all the time, after all. But obviously it´s not enough to talk to people, to understand them, to express things beyond the sort of "Mrs Lopez works for Rover. She has a good salary" stuff in my Instant Spanish book. I am saying things are very good, with the genders mixed up half the time, and saying thank you a lot. And like I found in China, when a lot of your coping strategies revolve around language it feels pretty naked to be without it. But I´ve discovered something very interesting. If you haven´t got much language you are forced to be open and straightforward. You meet some little village kid who throws a handful of leaves over you to welcome you to her village and instead of trying to think up something sensitive and appropriate to say, you just ask what her name is. If you want to ask for something you just ask for it, just the words you need, without ringing it round with a maze of caveats, circumlocutions and apologies. You just say what you mean.

So I was lying on my mat on the floor of a wooden house deep in the jungle last night, staring up at the dark rafters of the banana-leaf-thatched roof. There was a crack in it where you could see one star. The room was full of zigzags of cricket noise, punctuated by dripping from the trees. And I realised, suddenly, that everyone in this house thought I was Dutch and none of them knew my name.

The guide/interpreter guy who had set it up for me to come here, the son of the painter (thereby hangs a tale), had gone home, as had the nice English-speaking boy who drove the mototaxi. I had heard the others, all exclusively Spanish-speaking but for a tiny Japanese girl with no English either, saying I was from Holland. It was what they heard no matter how many times I said "Irlanda". And when they´d spoken to me earlier they thought my name was Gloria or Ji-dah or Dray-da, and I´d say it again and they´d look puzzled, then shrug. It was just an impossible collision of consonants. So there I was, in the middle of the forest. I´d lost my stuff, I´d lost my language, and now it was as if I´d even lost my nationality and my name.

And that felt kind of liberating as well, so that I nearly laughed out loud. It was as if all the extraneous nonsense had been stripped off some fundamental thing that was me. But who ´me´ was wasn´t important. I´m Nobody, I thought, so I can be whatever I like.

Unfortunately all I could actually do at that point was go to sleep, but it´s the principle.

Comments

[parallelgirl.livejournal.com]

*smiles*

oh, hooray hooray for the return of the bluedevi travel blog!

I lived in Bolivia for a year once, and was 'American' to most people the whole time, (even my boss, with whom I worked closely for a good 9 months before I realised she was under this misapprehension!) which was quite jarring in some ways and oddly liberating in others- when I made some big cultural faux-pas, I didn't worry too much about the consequences for people's view of Britain because, hey, they think I'm American anyway...

[mr_magicfingers]

And now I understand why so many people said I must friend you :)

I'm an inveterate, type-A, OCD planner and packer. Having that taken away really does change how you go about your travels. When I worked offshore around the world, I carried nothing more than a carry-on sized travel bag and a briefcase for my work documents. Didn't matter where they sent me or what they needed doing, I could live out of that. Used the same bag when we went to Cambodia & Vietnam a few years ago, completely liberating to travel so lightly.

I'm continuing to try stripping my life back after the years of marriage and a large houseful of things around me. Being less encumbered means you travel lighter and more easily, I find it's the only way to really travel these days for me, unless I'm doing something silly like diving or racing. My best friend went from Nepal to Australia overland for 7 months with nothing more than a daypack, that's the way I plan to travel when I have the chance to do it again.

As an exercise in downsizing, a combination of these two is giving me serious jonesing, if only I could find somewhere to park it close to London for a couple of years, I reckon I can build my version for about £7k.

http://www.tumbleweedhouses.com/houses/weebee/
http://www.tumbleweedhouses.com/houses/tarleton/

Take care lovely, I look forward to getting together again when you're home.

Hugs and love,

J.x

[the-elyan.livejournal.com]

Wow.

You have likewise stripped from me the power of reasoned and analytical response.

I can only applaud...

[juliet]

I should think very carefully about this before I go away... although currently I expect about 50% of my luggage to be paper/books. Which I can get rid of as I go along.

Do you have a sleeping-bag or similar still? (Actually, in general I'd be really interested to hear what you *do* still have with.)

[lathany.livejournal.com]

The security blanket is gone, and... I kind of like it.

I'd have panicked and gone rather shaky for the rest of the trip if I'd lost my luggage (not that I do the sort of travelling you do anyway). I'm impressed at the way you've just shrugged and carried on.

I'm also wondering if your bag'll show now - I guess it's a wait and see thing.

[libellum.livejournal.com]

That anonymity - the lack of expectations - is my favourite thing about travelling. The solitude of it helps as well. You're stripped of your normal roles, you just are. I don't think I believe in some sort of existential purity of the self - even as you travel you're creating new roles, a new persona for yourself - but nonetheless it's very compelling. I'm glad you're finding the language barrier interesting rather than frightening or frustrating.

Solitude is very liberating though, I learned that at Glastonbury. So is quietness. After being such a talky person in English it's really refreshing to not have that option for a while. Like being on retreat, almost.

[mollydot.livejournal.com]

I was constantly getting the Holland thing. Turned out I wasn't pronouncing Irlanda clearly. Try putting more emphasis on the beginning and maybe drawing it out - Iirrrlanda.

Loving the posts and twitter updates!

[kyte.livejournal.com]

You write good!

[carbonunit.livejournal.com]

Another magnificent insightful post. I think the universe took your luggage to remind you that well-meaning relatives sometimes do more harm than good when they load you down with their fears before you go on a journey.