The Musings of Matt Hayes: A slightly longwinded rumination

Cuenca is considered the cultural and educational capital of Ecuador, and with its numerous universities, upper class dining and shopping hotspots, and cobbled stone streets it’s easy to see why. Oddly though what struck me most during my time in Cuenca had nothing to do with the city at all.

How it started

I had come to Cuenca in part to see friends who were instrumental in my decision to travel. They had offered me a place to stay but I thought I’d get a hostel instead – hostels are cheap, a great place to meet people, and I’d be out of the way. When we met up though, Kent handed me a set of keys to my own 6^th floor apartment furnished in a hip, minimalist style with a beautiful view of the church outside. I put my bag down.

The next day I got a FB message from Manuela and Carmen (previous blog) who had also arrived in Cuenca. I went to their hostel to meet for dinner and saw Colm who was part of the “Yo no quiro agua” night during Carnival. Colm and another girl from the hostel, Victoria, joined our table while we waited for Zane, an Aussie riding his moto from Colorado whom I had met in Quito. After having dinner with Manuela and Carmen it was back to Colm who was hanging out with Sarah and her friends, some local girls he had met though CouchSurfers.

As the week progressed I saw with Damien and Grainne (recipients of shaving cream on Yo no Quiro Agua night) and met Cian, the forth Irish of their group. Meeting up with the crew a few nights later I was introduced to Shane who’s taken just about every mode of transportation available over the last 6 months to travel from San Francisco to a wedding in Ecuador. I went to get a drink at the bar and met Hattie and Fiona, two girls from England who had met a few days before and just arrived from Banos together. A night later when Damien invited us over for home cooked curry I met Michael who’s trying to travel around the world without using an airplane.

A day later after Shane, Hattie, Fiona, and I explored the local market I invited people to my apartment for dinner and to hang out. A few days after arriving in a completely foreign city I had 11 people crammed into an apartment cooking food, sharing stories, and giving travel suggestions.

Reflecting

This, to me, is what traveling is all about. I am in a foreign land, learning foreign languages, doing things that most of society considers outside the realm of normal behavior. I am alone, I am vulnerable, and I have nothing that doesn’t fit in a backpack. However, this kind of insecurity promotes a state of mind where I live in the moment – finding adventures, having new and unique experiences, and talking to anyone who will talk back.

Traveling also builds trust – when I was in Banos I stashed my bag with everything I own (including a laptop, camera, and travel journal) in two Germans’ room whom I had met 36 hours before. Anytime I needed something from it they handed me the key to their room and all of their belongings. Solo traveling is an experiment in self-sufficiency, but every time I extend trust to people my faith in humanity is reconfirmed. We come from all over the world with different backgrounds, different educations, and different experiences but somehow friendships are formed faster and stronger than at home where we have more similarities.

This is not to discount the strength of friendships at home - I couldn’t do what I am without the help and support of a network of great people in the States. I had a dream Friday night that reminded me of the incredible comfort and security that is found in a close relationship and it left me with a beautiful warm feeling well into the afternoon.

The cycle continues...

And as the original Cuenca group started trickling away new friends were made. Shane and I went to a museum with 5 British girls we had just met, hung out with Mel, he introduced me to Yara, the bride in the wedding he had travelled so far to see, I introduced him to Tara and her mom who I had met in Canoa, we shared some drinks with Shivonne, and Luke gave me keys to his place when I locked myself out of mine like an idiot.

There is a fairly defined Gringo Trail between Colombia and Bolivia and I’m guessing I’ll see at least some of those kids again before heading home. Even if I don’t though, they’ll be part of a formative life experience and memories I’ll never forget.