gael and my nomadic tendencies

The first time I saw Gael Garcia Bernal in the movie Y tu Mama Tambien years ago, I was so captivated by his acting, his character’s carefree wandering, and his beautiful, beautiful eyes that I wanted to be a charolastra myself – spontaneous, daring, unpredictable


Fast forward 2006 - I am nowhere close to becoming a charolastra but I'm still obsessed with Gael. And today, in my futile attempts to understand and speak Spanish, I watched The Motorcycle Diaries again and I can’t help but wish that I’d be like Ernesto or Alberto or Jack Kerouac or Alice Steinbech or Freya Stark. You know, those people who eagerly threw caution in the wind to live (and love) with reckless abandon. The combination of Gael’s intensity as the young Che Guevara and the breathtaking backdrop of South America is too much for my peace of mind. Once again, I felt the call of the unknown, the urge to leave my sensible self behind and just go where my heart leads me.
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I pictured it more than a dozen times – packing my bags and buying a one-way ticket to Central America (because I’ve always wanted to volunteer in Guatemala) or Nepal (so I can spend some time in the Himalayas) or anywhere else really, so long as there are no bulky mails asking you to sign up for credit cards you don’t even need or trashy reality shows with silly girls pulling each other’s hair over some guy who can’t even remember their names. In short, any place unpretentious, with tons of culture and good food, minus the flock of tourists. I’ll stay there for a year or two because my tickling, itchy feet won’t allow me to live in a place longer than two year. And as for finding a source of income or a place to stay, I’m sure I’ll figure out a way once I get there –

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