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| Judy Hopps, expectations' smasher |
A few months ago, the Lonely Planet started a Travel Writing competition. Of course I entered, of course I didn't win. As I have nothing better to do with the text, I'm posting it here.
I was born with two said incompatible conditions: a chronical disease and wanderlust. Due to the first, I was raised safely inside home. Due to the second, as soon as I turned 18, I started my plans to leave.
I had not had any support, from family or doctors. They said they would not prohibit me, but they were sure I would not last a day out there. Still, I tried. And failed twice, my own body holding me back. I learned English and finally got a scholarship that sent me from Brazil to Australia.The third time had to work.
Once I landed in Sydney, I panicked. I was alone. People would not understand me, I could not find anything at the supermarket, I did not know how to take the bus. On that first day at my new house, I cried. They were right. I should have never left.
Slowly, I overcame my fears. I observed the locals and learned to ask for whatever I needed. I turned that house into home. I made some friends, though I have not necessarily seen them ever again. I created my own little travel blog which helped other sick people to leave their homes. I was living the dream and ready to go further.
Eleven months later, I am visiting my 6th country, New Zealand. I am in a small town, out of the main routes, called Tekapo. I cannot recall how I find out about it in the first place. It is a winter afternoon and most people are already sheltering from the cold. I am alone again, but I do not mind anymore.
I am sitting on a rock, my backpack is next to me and inside it is a foam box full of ice and medicine. I am facing The Church of The Good Shepherd. It is barely more than a cube, made of grey bricks, no paintings, no stained glasses. Inside, I knew there were no more than a few benches and a small wooden cross on a stone table.
At this moment, the setting sun reaches a perfect angle, sending its rays into the windows and making the whole church shines from inside, like that light was its own. Beyond, a cloudless sky matches a perfectly blue and still Tekapo Lake and even further snowy mountains are the perfect frame for a scenario a traveller born in the tropics could never imagine.
Against all expectations, that tiny church turned out more beautiful than any cathedral I have ever seen. Against all expectations, I was there to see it, happy, healthy, free. It got me wondering why we waste time creating such empty useless things as expectations. We should create memories instead. Memories are what life is made of.
I want to write about my trips for the simple reason that I can though I was not supposed to. I was raised in a small town where the world out there does not matter, I had to learn English on my own, I do not have the best health conditions, I am a woman. People said I could not, I was too weak, too innocent. The world would eat me alive.
Despite what they said, I knew what I wanted and I left. Now here I am, collecting cheap charms for my necklace, one from each country. Their clinging while I walk a merry song about believing in dreams, one that sounds different for each person and still everybody should have the chance to hear.
I will not lie, I wish I could make money from my stories, go all around the world and see the beauties I do not know exist yet. But even if I have never gotten a cent, it would be worth because it would be great seeing people leaving their comfort zone. No matter if this comfort zone is a place, a person, a situation, I want to inspire people to fight for their dreams. Deep down, what I want is to show people that I can. And if I can, anyone can.
