So Karen and my parents and I have really started to send our Rio trip into orbit. That's just fucking awesome. This trip is going to be magical. Traveling is fun.
In other news, Karen and I have decided against going to Ecuador to volunteer and instead we decided it'd be better to go to Cambodia. Yup. Cambodia. That would mean I'll have stepped foot on 5 continents by age 21. So we're getting pretty stoked for that. Cambodia mixed with Rio would no doubt make this summer the absolute best summer that has ever been experienced by anyone. Ever.
Let that sink in.
Since we've decided on Cambodia, I took it upon myself, like I always do, to read as much information as I can on the country. I've quickly come to the conclusion that Cambodia is the saddest country on earth. Aside from the genocide, the civil wars, the poverty, and the lack of healthcare, this country just has nothing to it's name.
So Karen and I are going over there to help. We're gonna chill with orphans and help them learn English and read and get an education during the day, and go out at night. That's going to be our life for a few weeks. I haven't really been philanthropic since I went to Honduras, so I'm glad to be doing it again. I was talking with Karen about it while pregaming the Thor sequel, and forgot the deep emotions poverty tends to stir.
I realized this in Honduras; I observed first-hand this really humbling and peaceful truth about the world and the influence one can make. When in Honduras, we visited several houses, orphanages, slums, etc. just to chat with them and give them some presents from America. It was great playing soccer, telling stories, playing Pato-Pato-Gonzo with the little squirts and simply giving them our time. But it wasn't until the third or fourth day of this that I noticed something in the eyes of each underprivileged child.
Not a single kid knew exactly where we came from. They know the word America, but not much about it other than that it's pretty much where most of the white people come from. They don't have a clue how successful we are or how much money we have; they have nothing to compare us to. All they know is that we came a long way to see him or her, and to take time to play soccer or teach them how to play duck duck goose.
I just started to notice that they didn't see us as movie stars or wealthy Americans, all they knew was that we were good. Good and bad was the only distinction they seemed to be able to make and because we were helping them, they saw nothing but good. And even though we left after just one short week and partied on the way out, these children with very little to survive saw us as good people. That was the mark we left. Despite the war and crime and poverty, we brought something good to them and their country.
And that's why I have no problem going to help out in Cambodia. It's because I know that after x amount of weeks, we will have done something good no matter how minuscule it may be.
Of course there's another reason I have no problem going to help out in Cambodia, and that resides in the adventure. America really doesn't have much adventure. It is literally impossible to die here. Even if a dog dies at a premature age everyone is shocked and pissed off which doesn't make sense once you see less fortunate parts of the world.
The way I see it, there's a bubble over the western world. In this bubble, it's pretty easy to survive. In the bubble you are always less than an hour from medical treatment, and never more than a few minutes from food. It's fucking ridiculous how easy it is inside this metaphorical bubble. It's like the safehouse in a videogame, even if you got shot in the chest you have like a 99% chance of living. But it goes completely unnoticed.
True adventure doesn't come about until you leave that bubble. No matter what you do in the bubble, it's fake. Mountain climbing, scuba diving, anything American's think of as "adventurous" really is like the safest thing in the world compared to everything outside the bubble. That's why I love taking as many steps as possible from the edge. Honduras and Morocco are my only chances thus far, but they are also the best stories I have in my arsenal.
Once you're out, it's as if the sky dims a little bit. Reality almost instantly sets in as you see most of the world as it truly is. And shortly thereafter you realize that now that you've ventured outside of the bubble, and you could die at any second. Every car ride you take, you risk being killed by a drunk driver's hit and run. Every time you trip you can't help but remember that a compound fracture is often fatal in third world countries. Risk and excitement is all around you, and it is absolutely exhilarating. It takes a little while to get used to daily life outside the bubble. But every step you take further and further from home is one more amplification of the thrill.
The further from home, the more adventure. And there's nothing I love more than an adventure. Until next time...
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