Just over 5 months to go. Arivederce, right? Not quite. My parents quietly deny me even going. It doesn't seem to even fit within their comprehension. Despite them being the 2nd, and 3rd people to find out, they steadfastly perform a gentle refusal of the fact. A very close friend of mine, Eddie, has been reduced to tears in the last week, feverishly sending ads for GPS equipment from the internet. It doesn't matter that he's 82 years old, but the intensity to which his worry has compounded has shaken me a bit. (That's Eddie to the right of me, and Steve on the left.)
A bit of history on his emails, starting shortly after my declaration of November 19th.
I HOPE YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND AND GO TO HAWAII. (November 23rd)
I totally understand the love and support of my closest friends, but it is starting to discourage me and by association my fear is coming up. I'm now over $2,000 behind my budget month to month. Oh, and did I mention gang-style slayings in Mexico, 11 murders in El Salvador a day, guerillas in the Darien Gap of Panama and rumours of the assassination of Chavez in Venezuela?
I will be riding my motorcycle to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil from Vancouver, Canada. Somewhere between 11 and 15,000 kilometres. This doesn't concern me at all. I also get the impression others before me have planned several years before embarking through arguably the most dangerous and unstable countries in the world. I am well aware that things are different outside of 'my little bubble'. That being said, I am not afraid. The only thing that scares me is the thought that I will have thoughts, feelings, and impulsions that have me frozen in fear in another country. Not only another country, but another culture, language, environment and most definitely state of mind. It is why I must go.