ENAMORADOS

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There were no roses or candy this Valentine´s day. Griff and I woke up in the morning, walked across the room to the other from our tiny twin beds, wished each other a Happy Valentine´s Day, and headed to the bus station for our seven hour bus ride to Punta Arenas. The trip was only a portion of our voyage to the end of the earth, Ushuaia, which is on the southern tip of South America. It is one heck of a journey, requiring us to head inland from Argentina, cross the border into Chile, hop another bus from Chile back into Argentina, and drive another twelve hours with a transfer between one junky buss to another. (Each buss gets squishier and older the farther you go.) Most of the twelve hour ride is over gravel roads. The land is flat and the scenery doesn´t change with the exception of an occasional car passing or bird flying overhead. And then, you hit Tierra del Fuego...
All this time on busses, can cause a person to go mad. I look next to me and see my husband, whose legs are packed so tightly into the space in front of his seat, that I am reminded of a song I sang as a child..."Have you ever, ever, ever in your long-legged life, seen a long-legged spider with his long-legged wife....?" We take turns twisting our bodies and stretching our legs out in the aisle. Though Griff insists that I stay put in the aisle seat, it only takes one glance at his bony knees sharply jetting into the seat in front of him, and I know that the aisle belongs to him.
The truth of the matter is, this was the best Valenine´s Day ever. We were sweaty and stinky, and stuck on a bus in the middle of nowhere, but it was exactly this that made me realize just how in love I really am. (Don´t get me wrong though... if we are back in the States next year, I still expect a card at the very least...When in Rome...) There are not a whole lot of married couples or long-term relationship teams backpacking. I now know why. Every decision, every meal, every hostel booking, every laundry washing, is a joint effort. A marriage could easily be severed here. There is no strong outside social group, no Friday nights with the girls, no jogs with the dog, no "Hi Honey! I'm home!" You literally breathe every breath next to your spouse. Griff and I have had our misunderstandings and quite a few communications. We have had to understand each other more than ever before, at times, it is almost do or die situation.
On our last bumpy bus ride, in the aisle kitty-corner from us, sat a couple who were backpacking and obviously madly in love. She had her feet slung across his lap and he tenderly touched her hand when he spoke to her. They talked very little, but somehow seemed to be communicating the entire time. Her socks were worn and his flannel shirt was faded. Their hair was gray and their hands were soft and wrinkled. They were not your standard backpackers. I began making up imaginary scenarios of how they got here and how much further they had to go.
I have discovered a lot about myself so far on this trip, and I have also discovered a lot about my husband. I am constantly replaying the words of Corinthians in my head, as was read in our wedding, I don´t ever get very far- "Love is patient..." before I realize that I have a long way to go before I am an example of someone who is capable of perfect love. I often do not show true love to the one I feel the most for- how is this possible?
Everything I needed for Valentine´s Day, was that long-legged spider accordianed into the seat next to me. This is a very nice thing to know.
As our bus wound round the corner about an hour north of Ushuaia, we began to see the first sign of earthly elevation in weeks. The mountain peaks jet up sharply, reminding me of the meringue on one of my grandma´s lemon pies. The Andes are delicious.
Griff reacts to prospects of elevation change, as a child does to candy. As I told you in the last entry, he yearns for the opportunity to delve below sea level and achieve that ear-popping thrill of adventure. It´s the same thing with mountains- this uncontrollable urge to be at a level of earth which separates itself from the rest of the population. The soles of his feet are magnets, attracted to the pull of the mountains. I begged him for one day to explore the town and check out the local culture, he granted my wish, as his eyes were glued to the mountains. While I write this, he is reading a book in search of tomorrow´s trek.
We will probably stay here a while- maybe a week or two. After all the trouble to get here, we might as well enjoy it.


"There is something exciting about leaving everything behind.
There is something deep and pulling leaving everything behind.
Something about having everthing you think you'll ever need, sitting in the seat next to you"
-Butterfly Boucher

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