Two Weeks in Patagonia's Wilderness

before entering the enchanted forest and crossing Rio Sin Nombre (i’m the person with the red jacket and bag)

As a person who was once deadly afraid of camping and outdoor living, planing for the hike gave me anxiety. What to pack, what to expect, what to prepare for— I was thinking about it all before I even took the eight hour Journey to Santiago, Chile.

My two weeks in nature was surreal. I had so much space, so much sky and so much clarity. I had never experienced anything like it before. It was almost as if my life was a noir film, and now, La Vie En Rose was playing, and every sunset was a soft pink.

It was as if saw the world from a different lens. I was in constant thought and deliberation. Constant marvel, and constant daydream.

My life, my goals, my purpose, and other big questions that I had been dreading to answer back in civilization. Those long walks gave me time to think and to plan.

Perhaps that’s what I needed most back then— time. It’s not that we don’t have time; perhaps it’s more like we feel like we don’t have it. The sense of abundance I felt in the wilderness is something that I’ve been trying to foster back home, without much luck unfortunately.

Feeling content with experiences we have had is no easy task by any means. I mean, I go to a traveling school where we strive to have new experiences and challenge ourselves constantly. But still, this hike has put me on a long path by the end of which I will hopefully feel content.

But I still hope to look back at my expedition with great hope that I can one day find that part of myself in the everyday.

begrudgingly cooking while one of educators, Ibrahim, takes my picture