says my boss passing by into the kitchen as the French girls walk out the door, letting the cold air slam into my face.
The Brazilian is on the phone wearing his green Hurley shirt. I think it is some sort of unspoken rule that Brazilians always wear green, the dominant cultural color. Even better is the fact that he is talking on a yellow phone. It must be some important conversation because he is hiding himself in the corner, guarding the words from seeping out into the open.
It has been about a year since I first began working here, this hostel, this zoo for humans, wandering through life. I came here with such excitement, honestly, wanting to meet some cute international boys. The flair of it all has died down, significantly, so much so that I have become indifferent. I hate being indifferent but when you go to a zoo, you admire the animals always knowing that there is this bullet-proof plastic between the two of you so that you dont get too close, close enough to get hurt. It is no different here, except that I have built my own plastic wall and I am now questioning if it is bullet-proof, man-proof.
My life has become a transition from one zoo to the next and though i see myself with this plastic barrier, perhaps I too am part of this zoo that I observe so keenly.
I have so often wanted to write about the experiences here, the crazy people that I have met, the nerve of some arrogant fools, and the humility of some pretty beautiful souls that stray here once in a while, not often enough. I have wanted to compare this place to so many things- a submarine, an amusement park, cactus garden, youth camp, and so on, but for now I will stick to the zoo. For maybe I am that one monkey that keeps getting transferred from one zoo to the next because it simply does not fully adopt its new environment, never fully fits in. It might next get transferred somewhere exotic and spicy, unforeseen that it is not the environment, it is her that will always be this foreigner monkey among the locals. She is a lost cause to a zoo keeper looking for a profit, because none of the visitors pay to watch her watching them. Dump her? Send her back to the wild? Yes, let us see how she fares in the wild. You have high hopes you say? Shall we place a bet on it because she seems too naive for me. Let's see. She sits in waiting, thinking about her life, awaiting her departure, always awaiting her departure. We will take her up north and set her free. She is too selfish to see life outside of herself. Yes, yes I am. I have not yet learned to trust fully, to let go, to breathe. I have become too consumed watching others, always observing so much so that I have lost sight of something grand and beautiful and I just can't figure out what that is.
Life is temporary and its temporality is best enforced here, with people on "vacation mode" always and forever. But to put aside my cynical attitude that I so easily adopt each time I see the usual coarse of events: the same pick up lines, the same look, the same brush on the arm, same exact complimenting..., I must say that from behind my bubble of a desk, I have learned a lot. I have learned a lot about myself, about how I react to certain people, about the fact that everyone wants so badly to be loved and desired and the only problem is that they find such different ways of showing it. I learned that I tend to see myself as more experienced and wiser because I do see it everyday and because I read and write a good phrase or two....but I am not, not in the least bit. I am still young and have much to learn about this world and about people.
I am learning to respect people again, though it is interesting in this place, this place where weenie roast is posted from the ceiling and people genuinely think that sex is "it". But still, I am learning, growing, trying my best to love.
But I do have to go now because my bubble can only protect me for so long, I have to look a little busy, I have the autobiography of Malcom X sitting next to me, and plus, I have to go help prepare for that weenie roast.
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