Live and love

Raise your hand if you are a little bit in love with Bruno Mars. I know, so am I! Great talent and a killer smile.

Not long after the start of our trip I heard his newest single at that time – Gorilla. I kept listening to that over and over again. Just like in the past months I had been listening to Usher’s Tell Me. I wonder why we do that – keep listening to the song over and over again till we eventually get tired of it and move on to the next one? Bruno Mars had accompanied me on my trip almost from the start, and we were in a good place, I was not even close to getting tired of his music.

You can imagine then how I felt, when Bruno Mars agreed to host me and my Peruvian in his house in Brazil. ‘For real?’ – you ask. Ok, he wasn’t the REAL Bruno Mars, but tell me they didn’t look like two pees in a pod!

Falling in love with this guy was unavoidable. I think I melted as soon as I stepped into the house and saw our host. He was extremely sweet, made damn good savory crepes and mean margaritas. Plus, he sang and played the guitar just like the star.

While I showered I dreamt of him walking in on me. While passing his kitten from my arms into his I dreamt of being the kitten. I dreamt of kissing the guy.

I did feel bad afterwards as I believe my feelings and my thoughts were clearly written on my forehead. After we had left, my Peruvian asked me if I had been flirting with Bruno. ‘Not that I care’, – he added. I told him no, as I was doing so much more than flirting.

That was the only time when I got head over heels over a guy I’d met during my 3.5 year long trip. I guess by then I was sure there could be nothing more between me and my Peruvian than the friendship and companionship while the trip lasted.

Moreover, the trip could have ended at any moment. Just like life in general can end in the blink of an eye and without a warning.

Today, my memory of Paraguay is a blur. I don’t remember the names, I don’t remember the places, I don’t remember the faces. But I know I almost died there.

Late at night we arrived to a town where we had a couch surfing host waiting for us. The ride over was uneventful, but I do remember munching on chipa while relaxing next to the truck driver. Food in Paraguay was not impressive, but the chipa I liked!

We were walking along the road in the rain, trying to reach the house of our new host. That was all I remembered until I woke up in the hospital 3 days later with the bandage on my head, not being able to stand on my own two feet, and tubes poking out of more places than I care to remember. I did have random flashes of me being taken to the x-ray room or seeing the face of our host (I later found out that was him) by my hospital bed.

I got hit by a bus. I spent 2 weeks in a private hospital and a week later at a hotel, all expenses paid. We didn’t have travel insurance (I believe very few, if any, backpackers do) and we didn’t have home in Paraguay to go back to and rest. We had been on the move for years and suddenly I couldn’t move. It took a lot of effort for my Peruvian to fight for me, and with the help of a couple of influential friends I received a pretty good care.

Just remembering chipa made me nauseous for the longest time as it was the last I had eaten. Slowly, my head wound started to heal (today the big scar is hidden by my hair) and my swollen legs started to recover.

However, being able to walk unsupported was not the same as carrying a 15 kg backpack on my back and a 6 kg backpack on my front. Even after 3 weeks of rest I was not ready for that. But the insurance was no longer covering our stay and, honestly, we wanted to get the hell out of the country. So we started moving again, my Peruvian dragging 2 fully loaded backpacks while I just about managed the small ones. I don’t know how he did it. But he did. He saved me.