I Think Everyone is Looking For a Family

I'm washing dishes when I feel a hand on my shoulder—it's Saskia, one of our guests, and I know what she's about to do. She's going to say goodbye, and I would probably react more if this weren't the fourth time she had already done it. I already know that in a few hours she is going to take back her statement, and I have a pretty good feeling she will pull the same rouse tomorrow.

She stumbled onto our doorstep a few days ago, and I'm not exaggerating when I say stumbled. She arrived from Bocas del Toro on a bicycle. Her legs could barely support her after riding just over 100 miles in two days. With her brakes broken she made great time. Without being able to slow down and all that. Everyone working at the hostel was stunned when she arrived. We made her some soup and brought her to a bed that she very quickly fell asleep on.

The rest of the week was a whirlwind with her; she was like a bullet train. There was so much energy, so much talking, and once she started moving, you tended to get caught up in that tornado of energy. I once watched her run up and down the street in the pouring rain for a good 15 minutes, trying to catch a taxi. The taxi never came, but it was a joy to watch all that screaming and waving in a storm strong enough to tear down a tree. It was admirable, to say the least. She wasn't the type of person who liked to stand still, and yet she stayed with us for over two weeks.

Why?

Our hostel was quiet. Most days were spent eating meals together, hanging out, and talking. We were calm, polite, and inviting—I like to believe we let people be themselves. The usual small talk—'where are you from?' and 'how long have you been traveling?'—quickly evolved into deeper conversations about what led you here and what life was like before this trip. You tend to get very close very quick by doing that. I think that's why Saskia stayed. We were a group of people who listened and genuinely enjoyed her company; you could tell she felt comfortable. And she wasn't the only one who stayed. It was quite common, actually. I couldn't count how many times someone would come to me in the morning, softly asking if they could extend their stay.

It became part of my morning routine.

When you start a trip like traveling Central or South America, you're running away from home—away from your family, your friends, and everything you've ever known. It takes guts, it takes balls, and it takes something to be wrong. Because who would leave everything behind if life were just perfect? Now I cannot begin to guess what was wrong in peoples lives that lead them to this. It's a complex thing that depends on person to person. But, I can say what I have seen. And what I saw is that the second people get comfortable and feel accepted in a place, they tend to stay. Because to feel comfortable means you can be yourself. And to be yourself means you can act natural with your guard down. To be in a place where your guard is down kind of feels like home. And to be home surrounded by people that let you act natural, kind of makes them feel like family.

If you've spent months travelling the world bouncing from new place to new place every other day, and now you find yourself pausing that trip to stay in one place. It has to be for a good reason right? And if that place feels like home and those people feel like family, then maybe, just maybe, you needed that. Because growing up means changing, and changing can mean that your environment just doesn't fit you anymore. Feeling like you don't fit in can make you feel sad and alone, possibly drive you a bit mad too. And if those feelings bottles up for long enough you might just do something crazy. Something like traveling to another continent for months on end.

Or you join a run club, I don't know. To each their own.

Again, I am only telling you what I saw and what I took from it. I only saw one portion of these people lives. But what I took from watching groups of people who ran away was that I think when life feels good is when you are surrounded by people that make you feel comfortable. And when you make a choice to change careers, relocate to a new city, take up a sport or hobby, or embark on months-long travel, its because you don't feel comfortable where you're at. So maybe we all just need a place to feel good with ourselves, and to feel like we belong with the people around us—like we're part of a family.

So next time you find yourself daydreaming about living abroad, or becoming a model. Just ask yourself, do I feel comfortable where I am at, or am I just playing a character at the places I frequent? If it's the latter, maybe its time to starting looking for a family.

Or just join a run club. Again, to each their own.

Thanks for your time,

Logan Schmitt.