My Arrival in Denmark and the Ensuing Events and Chaos.

Cleo was particularly happy to have me home. Or maybe she is always that loving. It's hard to tell with dogs.

       When I started this blog way back when, nearly four months ago, I promised something along the lines of one post every week. I had nearly flawless fidelity to that promise up to a few weeks ago and I feel that I could at least offer a bit of an explanation as to what's been going on that's been keeping me away from my keyboard.
       The truth is that the overwhelming number of engagements I had planned and unplanned for when I arrived back in Denmark simply distracted me for the past few weeks. I'll pretend you were all anxiously holding your collective breath as you waited for any sign of life from me. Well, here's that sign of life.
       Last time we talked I made it clear (at the end of post about Lake Titicaca) that my time in Peru was rapidly coming to a close. On April 11th I packed my bags, shaved my traveler's beard, and prepared myself mentally to return to Denmark.


       The flights back were quite manageable and my layover in Madrid was much more enjoyable than I expected. My overnight plane felt startlingly luxurious compared to many of my pervious (Note: I meant to type "previous" here, but I found "pervious" to be rather fitting) methods of transportation in Peru. I certainly felt more at ease knowing that the overseeing safety authorities probably had a hand up on the "Ah, it shouldn't be an issue" mentality of Peruvian bus drivers.
       Right around now is when I present you with some mind-blowing revelations I had on my flights home, yeah? Isn't that how the movies make it out to be? The hero is sitting on the bus/plane/train/car home and as he silently pores over his experiences from the past hour and a half of shitty faux-sentimental dialogue the camera quietly zooms in until he says something ridiculous like "You know, I think I kind of liked it here...". AND CUT! That's a wrap.
        Luckily for you and me both, life isn't quite like the movies and I don't have too many cheesy revelations to share with you from the ride back. In fact, as I look through my journal entries now, I think I was too excited to be returning home to do any clear thinking. I kept trying to sit down and pen something remotely interesting for closure sake, but I kept drifting off thinking about delicious Italian coffee, Danish rugbrød (Danish Rye Bread), and thick greek yogurt: all the culinary luxuries that would be waiting at home, happy to be devoured.
        I managed to avoid most of the bad luck associated with the date and I arrived in Copenhagen on Friday the 13th of April only a few hours delayed, but in otherwise good health. I was overwhelmingly happy to be greeted by my lovely girlfriend, Anna, and my mother both of which were waving Danish and American flags. Apparently Peruvian flags are a bit hard to find at the 7-11 kiosk in Denmark.
       I spent my first week back in Copenhagen quietly adjusting to "reality" and enjoying the creature comforts of my own house again.

Actually, wait. I didn't do that at all.

       In reality, I enjoyed the first 48 hours or so "adjusting to reality": eating meals with my family, going for walks with my dog, spending time with my girlfriend, and otherwise enjoying the company of those I had not been around in a few months. But, the honeymoon quickly came to an end and from there it was a busy, busy, few days.
       The long story made short is that my family is moving back to the U.S. of A. and therefore we had to move out of our house by the 16th of April. Those of you doing the math know that this meant I had roughly 72 hours to pack up my house and get out!
       Once that was out of the way I started playing rugby again. Then I promptly stopped playing rugby again after I sustained a minor concussion and received seven stitches after a hit-gone-wrong in my first game.
       How's that for you? I run around Peru for three months worrying the daylights out of my family with visions of kidnappings and robberies only to come home completely unscathed. Then, I get a good knocking about back home that actually puts me in the hospital (briefly).


       Remember kids, go traveling by yourself! Don't play rugby. Statistically, foreign countries are safer than Rugby: that's science for you.


       By the way, I'm fine now. Thanks for asking.


       But, let's get down to the business I'm sure you've all been waiting for: what did my three months traveling and six weeks volunteering really teach me? Do I miss Peru? And what's it like being home?


       I'll take those questions in retrograde order.


        Firstly, what is it like to be home? Well, it's somewhat similar to when I left, but the weather is a bit warmer and everyone is about three months older. No, but really, returning to Denmark has been much less of a shock than people seem to have expected it to be. People keep asking me if I "feel weird to be back". I'm not sure what to say to that: I generally never feel "weird" for more than a few hours at a time unless I ate some bad seafood or I fall into an uncontrollable bout of existential angst. Life goes on. I suppose my upbringing has a bit to do this this: I'm use to rapid geographical changes.
       It just feels "good" to be back. It's pleasant seeing old friends and it's great being around my family again. I enjoy everything from walking my dog to having my old gym back. 


       Now, as far as "missing Peru" that's tough one. I miss many things about Peru and I certainly miss the people I met there. I miss the lifestyle I had for those three months; I miss the traveling; and I miss speaking Spanish. Am I in constant agony at my current locational predicament? Not really. Am I just chomping at the bit to go back? Not really. I'm capable of holding two very polar emotions at the same time: the joy of being home and the dolefulness of leaving a country I quite enjoyed.
       My time traveling has taught me quite a lot of things about both myself and the world. Firstly, traveling alone has taught me how to take care of myself. It taught me to live independently. I might not be paying my own bills yet, (Hey mom! Hey dad! Thanks for that again) but as far as the day-to-days go I've got that covered well. The things that need to be done to keep life chugging right along are a breeze now.


       Traveling also taught me about how to come into communion with people of all types and of all places. When you're traveling alone it's not enough to just be "open" or "friendly", you have to actively seek others. Friends don't fall from the sky and you don't choose who you meet. This teaches you about how to "get along" and genuinely enjoy the company of people who made be completely different from you.
       When you travel alone people who hold completely different values and ideas become great friends. People who might get under your skin back home could be the only friends you meet in weeks. You learn very quickly that nearly anyone can be good company, to some degree, with a nice dose of patience and humor. I found myself drinking with Argentines;  partying with Peruvians; laughing with parachute pants wearing hippies sporting the latest in dreadlock fashion (which is remarkably similar to dreadlock fashion from 40 years ago); and chatting with Andrean campesinos (farmers). Everyone has their fun quirks.


       So, what's next for me?


       In the coming months I'll be in something of a transitional phase. My Mom has left Denmark for her new job in the U.S.A. and my Dad and brother will be following her once my brother has finished school. They'll all be heading back to good ol' Oklahoma.

Since you're too embarrassed to ask: it's right there. Just north of the cowboys and rich white Republicans.

       I will be heading off to the University of Wisconsin sometime in July or August, but seeing as all my "stuff" is en-route to Oklahoma now I imagine I'll need to at least swing by for a hello and some tea.
       Between then and now I plan on occupying myself with lots of reading and lots of time in the gym. You know, the ancient greek ideal, right? Study hard, lift hard, run hard, and f*** hard: training both the mind and body, hard. I also plan on spending as my of my rapidly passing hours with both my friends and family.
       That's the short version of what's going on in my life right now. If you want the long version, you'll have to ask me in person. You may or may not be happy to hear it, but I'm not planning on retiring this blog quite yet. Don't expect weekly posts, but I might drop by every-so-often to entertain you a bit more.


       Besides, you know I'm just going to post it on Facebook every time I update it anyhow. 


       Cheers! And a huge thank you one last time to all of you: your support throughout my time in Peru made traveling much easier on my mind and soul. Give yourselves a round of applause!

Adios. For now.