Live and learn

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“No way a white chick from a big city is gonna be responsible for the fire. Go unpack the food, gringa”. That was what I’ve heard from a Colombian friend in the middle of Guajira jungles when I offered my help with making a fire. Well, I thought, he has a point, I have no clue about gathering firewood and setting it on fire. I have absolutely no knowledge about which plants of Atlantic rainforest burn and how to protect the forest from spreading flame if something happens. I started unpacking food in silence and… and watching.



Two months later on Isla del Sol of lake Titicaca, in Bolivia, I’ve organized 12 guys and girls from all over Latin America whom I had met three hours prior to make a fire: divided them into two groups of 4 and sent to chosen parts of island to gather firewood, told two more guys to bring water and clean pots, other two were digging a big whole in sand for a fireplace, and after half an hour of well-coordinated work I started a fire that became not only the source of light and warmth on a cold Bolivian night (yeah, 4800m above sea level can be quite chilly at night), but a true center of the whole camping area. That’s how I transformed from condescending “that young Russian gringa” to respectful “la Rusa” (“The Russian”) which stuck to me till the end of the trip. La Rusa that took a responsibility of warming and feeding over 60 people on a spontaneous camping area full of Spanish-speaking strangers.



You live and you learn, but there is a great difference in how fast you do it. Travelling made me learn to do stuff that seemed so complicated at first, or sometimes I thought that it was just “not my responsibility”. Anyway, there is a whole bunch of new skills and abilities that I brought back from South America, no youtube tutorials or smart books, pure experience. Learning is a life-long process, but why not make it more efficient? Asking questions, watching people doing what they know how to do, trying and failing and trying again. Travelling makes you do this stuff, especially travelling alone, when you have no one close to turn to, so you decide to gain as much knew skills as you can and carry all that knowledge in your head.



Number one. I know how to make fire, cook on fire, keep fire burning, choose wood, create fireplaces, and, what’s perhaps even more important, I know the value of fire.



When we arrived to the coast (naturally, the safest place to camp if you are hiking though the jungles near the ocean) it was already too dark to tell a palm tree from an alien monster. My companion, a Brazilian guy, was as annoyed as I was – we expected to arrive at least at 5.30 pm, being aware of the fact that on this latitude (Santa Marta, Colombia) at 6 pm sharp a giant dark curtain falls onto the ground and the night swallows you before you even notice. We managed to find a decent spot to set our tent, but we needed to set it fast – besides being tired as hell, dehydrated and hungry after a 5-hours hike, we were literally being eaten by a huge thick cloud of tropical mosquitos. It was attracted by our flashlight and smell of sweat, it was even more hungry then we were, and it was absolutely impossible to scare away. God knows how many of these moscas I’ve eaten while figuring out that he has no idea how to set a tent. Holy guacamole, thought I, last few times I camped there was a couple of skillful guys who set the bloody tent, and what was I doing? Yeah, holding the flashlight for them. Fuck. Well, live and learn to improvise.



Number two. I know how to set any kind of tent, even in darkness, even while being eaten alive by annoying flying creatures, I know how to set it on sand, on slippery rocks, between large trees, I know where it should face, how to secure it from wind and rain. I know how to have a good night sleep in a 1.7x1.0 space with your buddy and all your belongings.



In Palomino, Colombia, I was working in exchange for food and accommodation in a tiny hostel owned by half-Indian descendant. The only staff members were myself, the owner and a weird French guy who was always barefoot and spoke no word in English. After a couple of very silent hours spent together in the kitchen cooking for the hostel guests, we finally had a break on the terrace with some kind of Indian vodka poured in our glasses by the grateful owner. We got involved into a conversation in very broken Spanish (those times I was just starting to speak it), as his Spanish was too fast and grammatically incorrect to even call it so. As I managed to learn, he left France two years prior due to some unfortunate circumstances and started moving around the continent like a hobo, with no knowledge of Spanish language and not much luggage. Worked for food, slept in fields and forests, hitchhiked. In two years he visited all countries of southamerican continent including Guayana and Surinam and worked in all of them. A month before that conversation he got robbed, all his money and passport were gone, so he was stuck in Colombia for a good long time. He was an excellent cook, so we talked about cooking in the wild, and he shared lots of insights.



Number three. I know how to make a stove out of a coca-cola can and cook a decent meal on it using spirit and metal pot. Without making an actual fire.



Those skills that you get while travelling are not always something significant. More often they are just some tips that you have in mind and can use the next time you face a similar situation. What do you think I’ve learned after living with hippies for a while, staying at IT consultant’s place in Belo Horizonte, Brazil and riding a public bus in Barranquilla, Colombia?



Number four. I can climb a slope of abandoned building’s roof.

Number five. I can walk a slack line. I learned to hold balance walking a 3cm-wide rope.

Number six. I can catch a bus passing by on a sonic speed, manage to negotiate a price with the driver and survive riding it with no handhold available. If’ you’ve ever seen southamerican drivers performing in big cities, you know what I mean.



One priceless skill I obtained while travelling is cooking. I was never a great deal when it comes to kitchen duties, but after 8 months of wandering around my personal terra incognita I’ve realized a simple thing: you wanna save money – you cook. It is impossible to financially handle this kind of journey not cooking, even thinking that cheap street food will save you. I had an access to well-equipped kitchens most of the time – in my host’s houses, in hostels where I worked, in friends’ houses. And I learned. I was taking notes on my cooking conquests throughout the whole trip.



Number seven. Peruvian aji de gallina? Yeah, will be ready in an hour. Some Russian cuisine? My bortch and bliny were tasted in places where no Russian went before. Cooking something out of these unknown vegetables and grains? Just let me think, and we’ll have a great dinner as soon as I figure out which seasoning fits.



Every country gifted me with some special skills, even if they are not that valid. I dance Colombian champete and can tell you by smell if weed is good or not though I don’t use, I know how to celebrate Hanukah American way and how to get to a museum for free, I know how to move in sand dunes after Peruvian desert and what’s the best way to walk 12 km up with not a drop of sweat, I know how to survive extreme Bolivian altitudes and how to tell lama from alpaca, I make excellent Brazilian caipirinhas and play an instrument for capoeira shows, I know how to make a ‘mate’ tea and dance Argentinian tango on 9 square meters.



I am convinced that fluent Spanish, decent Portuguese and an ability to find cheapest flights and bus rides are not all I learned from wandering around South America. People that I’ve met taught me so much that I can not be grateful enough. Even those who did not have enough time to actually teach me something, they just contaminated me with an idea to learn what they know, and till this very day I am learning something thanks to them. This Brazilian friend who was obsessed with healthy eating and read me a whole lecture on useful seeds and combinations of nutrients, I am still eating the way you said. This dear Argentinian who played guitar for me so many times that even months later, here, in Saint Petersburg, Russia, I am sitting alone for hours cramming chords and torturing my fingertips with guitar strings. This Peruvian who cooked so well, he fried freaking onions in his very own manner, and just an hour ago I’ve made stewed beans remembering his recipes and tips. This Danish guy (how you’ve even got to South America??!), I am still reading books you recommended. This American Sikh, I am still inspired by his view on global social issues, and I am writing this very blog partly because you’ve shown me what it takes to make a difference.



Standing in lines for hours, sleeping in most incredible poses you can imagine in buses and cars, navigating in unfamiliar cities, taking ice cold showers, reading maps, washing clothes in waterfalls, asking strangers for rides, and more, and more. Why do I intentionally spill a bit from my drink to the ground before drinking it? Because ‘pacha mama’ needs to be respected.



I’ve always been a good student. I adore learning. I’ve graduated from the university with a diploma with honors, highest score on the course. I’ve tried hard, and it paid itself well so far. I’ve been an educator myself multiple times – teaching English, teaching dancing. But after all practical knowledge I’ve got in this journey… Hard to say if I ever stop being thirsty for it.

Knowledge is indeed a power.

Number hundred and smth. I learned to learn. I learned to perceive every each thing that happens to me as a valuable experience.

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