Brave (Everywhere)

I hit the enter button three times to create space in the Word document. The blank text box is designed to contain a summary of more than one year of my life. The index line blinks on and off like a light at a crosswalk. It urges me to do something. Say something.

I place my fingers blindly on my keyboard, acquiescing to oblige it. But instead of typing out an illustrative sentence, my mind races with images of places I've been and faces of people who's names I, for the life of me, couldn't recall if you paid me.

My last "official" work experience terminated in October 2017, more than a year ago, and here I was, attempting to account for the gap in my resume. My friend admonished me. You can't have nothing to say about an entire year of your life. So I spent a few hours Googling: "reentering the job market after a hiatus". The search results were complete with advice on how to manage your young children with a new job, or what not to say to hiring managers. How to sell your potential so that it overshadows your age, and even how to flat-out fib your way to a revived career. Something in me stirred uncomfortably.

I was being coerced into feeling shameful about what might have been the most productive year of my life.

You can't have nothing to say about an entire year of your life.

I wanted to respond. I have more than enough to say. More than I could venture to fit into the three blank spaces in a document text box. But was anyone asking? What they wanted to hear was a list of acquired skills, how I've bettered myself. Like how many months of experience in coding I've gained or what new languages I've learned. How many courses have I completed and the date of their respective certificates. How many books I've read and how much work I've done. And while life on the road afforded me the time to dabble in all of those things, (and indeed I did dabble), what I've learned can't be quantified.

A heard of sheep temporarily stalls our journey hitch-hiking through Antarctic Chile on the Road to the End of the World

How I've developed, the chaos and simultaneous linearity of it, is not what they want to hear. How can I explain the courage it takes to cast aside everything you've built and acquired and dive into the absolute unknown- to be truly Adaptable- to someone who thinks the mere idea is insane? How can I explain to them that when everything- literally everything- goes wrong, and you find yourself sleeping on cement floors, in bus terminals, train stations, under a collapsed roof, and at the side of the road, without money or without a way to make human contact, and still managing to make it to your next destination in time is more than just Resourcefulness and Dedication? Or how many different transportation systems I've sorted out and how failing to sort them out has taught me Ingenuity and Independence? Or how confronting my greatest fears, and not only surviving, but deciding to keep confronting them until they're dead takes more than just Determination?

How do you explain that navigating the murky notion of trust as a woman alone, or building friendships without a common language, is more than just Interpersonal and Communication skills? How do explain that traversing the planet without a plan is, ironically, an excellent show of Planning Abilities?

Settling in for a cold night at nearly 3,000m in the Ipiales bus terminal, Colombia, after crossing the border from Ecuador. We realized borders would be closing for the Colombian election weekend -accompanied by the usual riots and violence- only 10 hours prior.

I put the document aside and return the the company website where a form awaits me.

Do you have any injuries that would prevent you from performing your functions?

I tick off no, and then realize it's been sometime since I've filled out one of these things. I quickly run through a list of physical changes I've undergone just to make sure. Two torn tendons, one moderate-severe ankle sprain, one dislocated limb, a nagging case

of tennis elbow, the two broken toes that have by now healed (I suspect), and a mysterious nerve pain that can only be quelled by some equally mysterious painkillers.

Nope. I should be fine.

minor scratches and bruises aside...

I can't help consider the physical changes I've underwent. My weight fluctuating with the amount of sunlight and possible outdoor activities. The weight on my back often times dictating the weight of my body and not the other way around. The way, some times, the food you put in your gut is not chosen for its taste but rather the number of calories and the form they come in. You begin see yourself more as a machine and less as a creature bred and brought up to fit the available comforts. I run a finger through the hair at my right temple where I know there are exactly three white hairs that were not there a year ago. I can't help but smile.

Will your spouse or family require visa sponsorship?

I tick off No. My spouse and family are fine where they are. Both know how my feet go where ever opportunities present themselves. They have no choice.

It's time to click submit, but I have yet to attach my CV. I turn back to my resume. The odd formatting created by the sentences I never wrote irritates the eye. I stare at the blankness, biting my lip. Shoganai, I mutter. An expression in Japanese that has no English equivalent. The closest translation I can think of carries far more negativity than intended; "it can't be helped," or, 'nothing can be done".

I delete the spaces.

A light daypack keeps things simple for a

mountain hike in central Colombia

Down on the lefthand side, under "other information" and below my nationalities and date of birth, appears the word "hobbies". Someone once told me it's good to list your hobbies on a CV, it makes you sound more relatable. There I listed a few words that paint a picture of someone who, let's just say, sounds like they're better suited for the rusted back of a VW bus than a new office chair. I delete them all, and leave one; Travel. It stands there, solitary and bold.

Far be it for me to explain something one can only gain through experience.

Autumn stroll through a mountainside temple in western Kyoto

#travel #travelblogger #solofemaletraveller #aroundtheworld