"Get ready South America. I'm coming for you." I vividly remember writing this statement after purchasing my plane ticket to Peru last April.
Fast forward to early August. I was suffering through an absolutely insane 30 hour bus ride- one in which I went through all stages of fully accepting my impending death- when I realized that those words had equated to a challenge. I had accidentally provoked an entire continent, and she was showing me who was boss.
South America 1, Keri 0.
The last week of my journey was a mixed bag. On one hand, I had some excellent adventures. On the bus to Sucre, I met a man named Johnny. He was a PhD dropout from New Orleans, a recovering drug addict, and had spent the past year backpacking solo through Central America with a machete strapped to his back. He was adventurous, brilliant, and absolutely out of his fucking mind. We spent every day in Sucre together-- wandering through the markets, chewing copious amounts of coca leaves, and playing video games in rundown arcades with local teenagers. Life was good.
On the other hand, my body was shutting down on me. I had developed another sinus infection, and my cough was getting worse each day. I wasn't sleeping at night, and the lack of rest made me anxious and depressed. After a few days, I knew I had to scrap my plans to visit the Bolivian salt flats--a cold, windy, and ruggedly beautiful place--in order to go home and recover.
Although leaving a week early made me feel a bit defeated, it did not detract from the overall amazing experience I had in Peru and Bolivia. I gained a wealth of knowledge about myself and the world, which I will not attempt to spell out in detail here. This journey was the impetus for making several major changes in my life and way of thinking, and for that I will be forever grateful.
So, after a full year, South America has been officially wrapped up. And just in time for my next adventure in Africa. Stay tuned...
The above picture, which I have entitled "The Pam and Caroline Fry Reunion Special," was taken on the sly by a random photographer in a diner outside of Atlanta.
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