Another Entry About Death

Back in Santiago, I have begun the process of paring down my belongings in preparation for packing (!!!), and I can’t help but count the dollars "wasted" on unused items. Of course, it isn’t really wasted money because so many of these things are far better left unused. As I increasingly look at my trip in hindsight, rather than foresight, I realize that I have many reasons to feel grateful, and chief among those is this pile of "worst-case scenario" stuff. Still, I can’t help but feel a little taken by the commerce of fear. How much money did I give to EMS so that scarier people in other countries couldn’t take it from me instead? Pick-pockets have nothing on shopping. Shopping to the power of pop music and the fear of pick-pockets. When I think back on my mentality as I boarded Delta flight 5513 in Boston on January 10th, a line from a classic piece of children’s literature, "Tacky the Penguin", plays over and over in my mind, “The hunters came with maps and traps and rocks and locks, and they were rough and tough.”

That was me. Ready for anything. You wanna mess with me, Spain? Just try. Am I supposed to be scared of that hair-do? You think you look tough? I laugh at you and your homemade mullet. What about you, malaria-carrying mosquitoes, you want a piece of this? I didn´t think so. You guys kinda make me giggle. You know why? Because you´re small and I’ve got REPEL Permanone in my utility belt. It’s so bad-ass it says "do not apply to skin" because it would even mess me up. The world is scary, so many things to survive out there. And the airport really reinforces that idea, doesn’t it? I can’t take my toothpaste on the plane because my toothpaste could be a bomb. I have to take off my shoes because my shoe could be a bomb. I can’t have a real knife with my dinner because a real knife could turn the plane into a huge, flying bomb. And I don’t even blink at all of this. Of course, all of this is necessary because the world is fucking scary. Even my metal butter knife could turn against me. So imagine my shock when, on the flight from Santiago to Lima, dinner was served (first of all that dinner was even served on a five hour flight departing at 9:30 pm) with a full set of metal cutlery. Then I laughed because the presence of a metal knife with dinner should not cause shock, and it occurred to me how adaptable we humans are. We can get used to pretty damn near anything, can’t we? If the Department of Homeland Security were to decree that - for our own safety and national security - it is necessary that all airline meals be pureed and served with a straw, the Daily Show would make a few jokes, and within three months we wouldn’t remember solid airline food.

So it’s no surprise, really, that as a consumer preparing for major world travels, I imagined the worst. When I look at the items I purchased, and the amount of money I spent on them, it appears that I expected this journey to be routinely life-threatening. Perhaps this is why it has been so difficult to adjust to daily life in Santiago, where the greatest challenge - constant television - is far from life-threatening (some might argue me here). The ways in which my life was threatened on this trip tended to be unexpected and beyond my control, and they usually involved some form of transportation. Actually, the most dangerous activity I engaged in was surely walking. On the Camino Primitivo in Spain, I was constantly one misstep away from being stranded alone in the elements. I don’t know how soon other hikers would have passed, but I do know from the log books in the albergues that the only hikers ahead of me on the trail were three days ahead. Without further ado, here is the list of objects that I am happy to report went unused:

• "You Can Survive" - This can, the size of two tuna fish cans stacked, somehow contains a folding wing stove, hexamine fuel tabs, tea bags, candy, sugar packets, poly water bag, energy drink, survival instructions, damp-proof matches, aluminium foil, and instant broth packets.
• REPEL Permanone Clothing & Gear Insect Repellent - This aerosol spray "repels and kills ticks and mosquitoes" when applied to clothing, hats, tents, and sleeping bags (note: "Do not treat inside of sleeping bag. Spray exterior surfaces of tent only.") I purchased this item when my travel plan included high-risk areas for malaria and yellow fever. I am thrilled to have not used a product which "if partly filled" suggests that you "call your local solid waste agency or 1-800-CLEANUP for disposal instructions." I wonder whom I have to call if it’s all the way filled…
• Mefloquine (Lariam) - One 250 mg tablet per week will prevent malaria°. It’s important that the pill be taken on a fixed schedule, the same day each week. My doctor suggested "malaria Mondays". To be effective, the medication must be taken two-three weeks before entering the "malaria area" and for four weeks after leaving the "malaria area". I like the term "malaria area". The rhyme makes it sound kind of cute and kid-friendly, like a ball pit at Chucky Cheese’s maybe.
  ° Fine print: "If this medication is being used for prevention of malaria, it is important to understand that it is still possible to contract the disease." Whaaa?!? So without the medication I might get malaria and with the medication I might get malaria? But with the medication I get a bonus: the wackiest, freakiest, most vividly horrifying dreams of my whole life. My doctor did not even attempt to downplay this. She stopped short of saying that the nightmares would be worse than malaria, but I was concerned enough to read the fine print: "The most frequently reported side effects with Lariam, such as nausea, difficulty sleeping, and bad dreams are usually mild and do not cause people to stop taking the medicine. However, people taking Lariam occasionally experience severe anxiety, feelings that people are against them, hallucinations (seeing or hearing things that are not there, for example I’d like to interject here that I believe that is the definition of "hallucinations", not an example), depression, unusual behavior, or feeling disoriented. There have been reports (uh oh, passive voice, this is going to be bad...) that in some patients these side effects continue after Lariam is stopped. Some patients taking Lariam think about killing themselves, and there have been rare reports of suicides. It is not known whether Lariam was responsible for these suicides."
  On a related note, I decided not to visit any "malaria areas". It strikes me as curious that Lariam is legal and marijuana (medicinal and otherwise) is illegal. If there is logic behind this, it must be that the intended effect and side effects (can death be considered a side effect?) of Lariam are deemed better than malaria, while the intended effect and side effects of marijuana are deemed worse than chronic pain.
• Ben’s 30% DEET Wilderness Formula - Another weapon against those mosquitoes. And another product that will require a call to the local solid waste agency. I think that my backpack is a fuse short of being a bomb. But let’s keep checking those shoes.
• Eagle Creek money pouch - This flesh-colored, silk, fanny pack looks and feels so natural, if a pick-pocket happens to lift up your shirt, s/he might ask you where you got the cute "Eagle Creek" tattoo. This is an absurd item. I paid about five dollars more for the silk version because still think that more=better even though I know that I think that. I wore it for a few days in Spain before realizing that the constant lifting of my shirt, fiddling with the pouch zipper, and fumbling around for the right bill was A) really annoying and B) like screaming "Hey, hey! Look over here, please. I'm a tourist. Yes, I look like a kangaroo, but I swear I’m a tourist. Does anyone know how this zipper works? Gosh, this is tricky. Let’s see here, this bill is too big. This one too. Darn, another fifty. Where the heck did I put that one ten I had?" Also, after I had seen five or six tourists with identical Eagle Creek money pouches, I started to wonder where I need to be more careful with my money: foreign countries or American malls.
• Atwater Carey First Aid kit - I’m grateful to have only needed this once so far. I used a band-aid after cutting my finger on the refrigerator in Santiago. Have I mentioned that I’ve been eating like a maniac since my stomach started working again? Well, I have been. Apparently I’ve been so voracious that I approach the refrigerator as if it were prey. And it bites back sometimes.
• 2nd Skin Dressing Kit - This is remarkable. I hiked for thirteen days in new boots with 30ish pounds on my back, and did not get one blister. I am lucky, those are damn good boots, and the sock liners were a good idea.
• Bicycle lock - This was my last - and worst - purchase before leaving the U.S. The bike lock weighed a few pounds and stayed in Spain. I wanted something to lock up my backpack (my life!) and didn't feel like spending $75 on the PacSafe - a metal netting of sorts that encloses the entire pack, secures it to something, and then silently announces "Really valuable things here! Get your really valuable things here!" So I spent $20 on a really heavy bike lock which I figured would provide a similar false sense of security for a fraction of the cost. It wasn’t nearly worth its weight.
• Assorted other locks - Padlocks with combinations, padlocks with keys, padlocks with keys approved by the TSA (so they can search your bags without cutting your locks). I didn´t use any of them, especially the TSA-approved locks, which I later realized would do nothing to protect my backpack because the pack's zippers are not entirely made of metal. Only the part that opens and closes the teeth is metal, the part you pull is a cord, which could easily be cut with scissors thus rendering the lock useless.

Aside from walking, what was the greatest danger I faced? Probably the sun, especially high in the mountains of Peru. What kind of fancy, expensive equipment did I use to protect myself from the deadly rays? First, plenty of sunscreen. And second, a Burger King hat that Carmen Luz (my Chilean sister and former Burger King employee) gave me. I particularly enjoyed wearing the tribute to American fast food on the shamanic journey. I didn´t look the least bit spiritual or shamanic or Peruvian - no wide-brimmed, brown "shaman hat" (think Indiana Jones), no alpaca wool hat, no handcrafted poncho. Just me: a gringo in a Burger King hat. Appearance is not important. If only. My ego gave it importance, something like Look at me in this Burger King hat. I’m not putting on any airs here. I’m just a regular, normal guy, wearing whatever I happen to have. Yes, a friend gave this to me. Why would I waste my money on a special hat? I don’t need to "look spiritual". I’m so spiritual on the inside I don’t need to wear it on the outside. The voices in my head turned the Burger King hat into a statement, but first and foremost it was a necessity that did far more to save my hide (literally) than any of the aforementioned items. Still, you know what they say: better safe than sorry.