The Travelers

There's a country I've been in that I haven't told you about yet. It's this place where you can come and go as you please and everyone is welcome. It's the country of explorers. Every time I live out of my backpack, I'm there. Instead of comparing kitchen appliances, we're talking about the latest little camp stove. Instead of showing each other our new clothes, we're explaining the map of stains on our pants. We share rooms and taxis and meals. In a bus full of locals, we share a smile of comraderie. And mostly, we share our stories. There's very little chance of a civil war here, because we don't want to own anything or anyone. We want experience. Our book: Lonely Planet and Rough Guide. Our bank: the money belt. Our crown: the headlamp. Luxuries: seated toilet, toilet paper, a hot shower, a bed off the floor, a clean towel. There's no leader her either, just a bus schedule. We've quit our jobs and we're open to the future. But the best part of this place is that it lives in the present, with open eyes and ears and an ever changing landscape.