You go for the place, but it’s never what breaks you open. Or maybe it does a little bit, but more than anything, what truly transforms you during a travel experience, getting under your skin, and into your heart, are the people you meet.
They’re the unexpected plot twist you didn’t know you needed. The reason you barely got any sleep but woke up feeling giddy. The protagonists of your favorite moment from your trip, the one you took no photos of and will never ever forget. The reason your shoulders are a little shlumped* when you’re going through security at the airport.
At home, it may take me a few weeks and several outings to really feel comfortable with someone and open up. To be my unruly, goofy, vulnerable self.
When I’m traveling, time seems to be completely irrelevant to the strength of the bonds I form. It’s taken a month, a week, four days, four hours, to create friendships with people who are just downright my people. Who I know will be in my life forever.
Last summer, I went to Mexico for two months with two suitcases. I left without a single ounce of wiggle room in my luggage but with so many new people in my heart. We run out of space for things, but human connection always finds its home.
There were my salsa class friends who welcomed me with open arms and made me feel special, in spite of my rusty Spanish and lack of coordination. They frequently invited me out to salsa socials, forcing me to get over my embarrassment and dance with them, passing me off to the locals, and helping me experience true Mexico City nightlife. Each deliciously dizzying evening ended with equally delicious street tacos at 3 in the morning.
There was my friend, Alan, who gave me rides home from class, took me to see the Chapultepec Castle, and even called a local restaurant when he found out I still hadn’t tried a traditional Mexican dish, ordering it for me and delivering it to my apartment.
There was Oscar, lawyer by day, salsa fiend by night, who talked to me openly about the woes of his dating life, and insisted we launch “Operation Megzcal” stat, to get me to move permanently to Mexico City.
There was Miranda, a girl I instantly bonded with on a tour outside of Oaxaca. She sent me into a laughter fit so intense during a tequila tasting that I had to take a moment to gather myself so as not to insult the tour guide. Later, that night we met up at a hole-in-the-wall bar for mezcal, and ended up singing along to Mexican folk songs with the locals at the top of our lungs.
There was the time I went to a scenic rooftop bar alone to enjoy the view, a Corona, some guac, and my own company. When I went to pay, the waiter looked uncomfortable and informed me the bill had been taken care of by two Americans at the table next to me. That’s how I met the nicest guys in the world, Jason and Connor. I ended up repaying them with a drink over lively conversation, and meeting up with them again to hear some live music.
Months later, I still talk to Jason regularly, about life, work, travel and passion projects. All because according to him I looked “melancholy” alone at my table, and he decided to cover my check.
At the very end of my trip, I spent four days in Puerto Escondido with plans to work in the mornings, relax on the beach in the afternoons, and completely reset. As soon as Ban and Alex, nomadic coworkers from Guadalajara, struck up a conversation with me during their ping pong game, that all went to hell. I loved them instantly and they became my brothers.
During those four days, they called me “Megan Fox”, convinced me to face my fears and go surfing (thanks guys), alternated between deep talks and making me laugh like a hyena, and totally ruined my plans to detox. We were out every night with other travelers, playing cards, watching the sunset from scenic points, and mostly dancing the night away at rowdy rooftop bars.
It wasn’t what I expected at all, but it was everything I didn’t know I needed.
It’s funny the people that we cross paths with when we’re doing the things that light us up. When you’re in alignment with your life, you meet people who enhance the best bits of you. You make friends more quickly, easily, without even trying. And even though you leave, they stay in your life.
When I left Mexico, my shoulders were shlumped at the airport, but my WhatsApp was full of new contacts. Contacts who I still speak to months later. Contacts who grew up in wildly different environments than I did, but somehow feel like siblings, neighbors, old friends from childhood.
To sum up the feeling, I wrote this in my journal:
I’m on my flight from Mexico City to Atlanta and I’m crying. I’m crying because my heart expanded to make room for so many new people and I hate that I can’t be close to all of them. That’s both the most beautiful and most painful part of traveling, isn’t it? The people that you meet, come to love and then, have to leave.
The pain is absolutely worth it. Because as you travel, your heart expands to make room for more and more people, in different time zones, on different latitudes and longitudes, but somehow, on the same wavelength.
P.S. Alan, Oscar, Miranda, Jason, Connor, Ban and Alex – if any of you are reading this, I freakin’ love you guys.
*I know the word is slumped but I like shlumped better
