Notice!
I posted a bunch of photos from Basel, Switzerland in the Pictures section. Check them out!
Conversions
100 USD =
647 SEK
75 EURO
93 CHF
Interactions (round
1)!
When you’re traveling you tend to meet people. You stay in
dinky hostels or rent rooms for cheap. You sit next to different men and women
during flights and you bump into hundreds of fresh faces and pubs and on the
streets. Sometimes it is just a quick conversation followed by parting ways.
Yet, at other moments, meeting someone new can mean a lot more. Chris and I
have been on our adventure for just over twenty days now and we’ve met many
great people. I’d like to thank and point out a few of them, especially those
that provided some great memories.
Lenin
For most hostels we’ve passed through, the reception desk
has been hosted by a young guy or gal at all hours of the day and night. The
hostel hosts take shifts, of course, and they appear to be from wild and unique
backgrounds- each with his or her own story to tell. Lenin dates back to the
first city we visited: Madrid. During our last night there, I was up very late
on the computer in the lobby of the hostel. Lenin was browsing Facebook or some
other time-slaying website behind the main desk, twiddling his fingers and
doing his best to stay awake. He turns to me and starts talking. It took me a
minute at the time, but I soon realized he was telling me a story.
We sat and talked like that for a bit in the lobby as I did
my best to scan CouchSurfing for a possible host in Barcelona or any of the
other future cities. Life. Relationships. Philosophy. He was patient with my
Spanish, too, and when I wasn’t feeling up to the challenge of a sentence we
swapped back to English.
Lenin was the first really kind guy behind a reception desk
at a hostel that we met- the first that openly wanted to chat about anything
and everything.
Sebastian
Barcelona was a pilgrimage of sorts. Chris and I stayed in
three different locations in three nights, the third being a tiny room rented
out through AirBnB. Cheap, near the beach, and with three random roommates.
These roommates, of course, actually lived in the rowhouse.
One of them was named Sebastian. Tall, bigger guy, Sebastian
wore glasses and had short black hair. He was the kind of person that looked
like he could be a bouncer for a night club, if, and only if, he could make a
mean-looking grimace or snarl twist across his face. I don’t think Sebastian
could. Instead, he was slow-speaking and sympathetic.
Sebastian was up for talking about anything I asked him.
Again, as with Lenin, I did my best to speak in Spanish. Sebastian actually
would correct or instruct me to use different vocabulary, too. I know when I
was telling him about how I wanted to work as a surgeon in a trauma center, he
told me how to say “surgeon” in Spanish. My, I tripped over that word so many
times. It is simple, looking at it, but my tongue coils around the up/down bend
of its vocality- “cirujano.” I could say the word on its own, but the second I
put it into a sentence I lost control of my vocal chords.
Sebastian was also keen with his advice, like an older
brother looking out for a younger brother. He had much more experience than Chris
and I. Listening to him in the living room of that rustic flat was tranquil and
relaxing. The man knew how to spin his diction in just the right way to get the
point across. Admirable.
Eva
Also in Barcelona, I met an ex-Homeless World Cup
coordinator named Eva. She gave me directions to meet outside an Apple Store in
the middle of the city. I left early, knowing I’d get lost, got lost, and made
it on time. After a handshake and a smile, we headed west down a main road in
search of a restaurant for a quick coffee.
Our search for the restaurant we wanted wasn’t fruitful, and
instead we ended up walking five or six blocks. We pulled off to the next shop
we could see, a nice little place with outdoor seating and green and white
umbrellas to keep the Spanish sun off our backs. We got a pair of coffees and started
talking.
When I think of a coffee convo, I think of a thirty minute
chat. Nothing too deep or too vast, just a centralized talk about a certain
subject. Eva, however, was so easy to talk with, and we sat there at that
little table for nearly two hours. Wow.
But I didn’t want a short conversation. Hearing about Eva’s
work in and around Barcelona, and then her experience with the HWC was
fascinating. She helped coordinate the World Cup in Rio as well as underneath
the Eiffel Tower in Paris. She stepped down from the job to work closer to
Barcelona, but she certainly enjoyed her time with the program.
What was most important about talking with Eva was the
timing. This was still very early in the trip and I had no contact yet with
live personnel from the Homeless World Cup or other organizations in Europe.
Eva got me more excited about the work I planned to do in the next few countries.
She got my hopes up for the program and made me want to go talk with people and
players and hear their stories. I walked back to the place in Barcelona we were
staying with a skip in my step. I was stoked to move on, to learn more, to see
more, and to progress the journey.
Juan
Eva directed me to Juan, who has been working with the Arrels
organization. Juan is brilliant. He gave me a brief history and tour of the
building where the program is held. It was incredibly impressive and organized.
They work with what, in a way, could be described as those that are chronically
homeless. In order for to be assisted by Arrels, one needs to be on the streets
for a time period greater than five years. That’s a long time- and I could tell
by walking through the facility- that the people that were there had been
through some stuff.
Arrels is really useful and beneficial. Not only do they
provide shoes, bags, storage, classes, showers, bathrooms, advice, and
temporary shelter (during the day- not nights) for the homeless, but they also
do their best to chart Barcelona and evaluate where people sleep and how many
reside on the streets.
One of the frequenters of Arrels is a man who used to be a
comic strip artist. He’s been on the streets for over fifteen years now and he
produces a series of graphic novels about his time on the road. His name is
Miguel Fuster. Here are some links to check out his work:
To a Google Chat
Buddy
I really appreciate being able to talk with you on and off
these past few days. It’s been nice to clear my head and laugh, and perfect for
sitting down late at night before heading to sleep. Thanks for being there and
being awesome!
Short Quips
My laptop charger is a fire hazard and one day the laptop
may just explode. When I’m sitting, writing like this, the charger heats up at
a rapid rate. I don’t think the heat has a breaking point. For example, at this
moment, I can’t even touch it. It’s made of lava or hellfire or something
crazy! Good news is, when you’re cold it makes quite the hand warmer.
Sleeping on a Soccer
Field
A couple days ago Chris and I spent our first night on the
streets. We arrived in Stockholm just after midnight by bus and set off to grab
food and search for some kind of shelter. This was actually the first time we
tried Burger King, too. I must say- the Angry Chicken Sandwich is one mean,
delicious meal (especially after over twelve hours of travel).
With food in our bellies,
we set off in Stockholm. We were surprised at the quantity of people out
on the streets on a weekday, but it was nice to have the yawping company of hooligans
and bar-goers. After two hours of walking and searching for a sheltered park,
we came across a school with a soccer field that was all fenced in besides on
small break in the gate that was the entrance. We’d been on the move for so
long that we were ready to call it quits. The grass, or artificial turf, in
this case, was wet, so we put our backpacks on the side of the field. I zipped
my jacket up, leaned my bag against the chain fence, and sat down just enough
so that I could lean my head on the top of my pack. Chris did likewise. I was
out in minutes, my bum on cold concrete, birds laughing and scavenging, and the
wind rustling. We got a solid hour and a half of sleep or so before moving on
to our next day.
 |
| The Jura! A hike in Basel, Switz. |
Current Status
We’re both good and safe for the moment. We’re staying at
the City Backpackers Hostel in Stockholm, Sweden, and are thankful to have a
roof and a bed. It’s hard to book a place short notice in the city. I’m going
to sign off for now and grab a quick hour of sleep, I’m still fairly beat.
Next post will be about soccer- errr futbol. There was a big tournament this past weekend in Basel, Switzerland, and Chris and I both played! Heck yeah.
Cheers,
Sam
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