I am Afraid- Biking Across South America

Tomasa Gomez is laughing. She is sitting at a desk on a swivel chair with a sheen of sweat covering her skin, which she keeps mopping off with a face cloth, and she is laughing so hard she is crying. She speaks to me in Spanish and charades over the computer from Guatamala-trying to get me to understand the words for plastic surgery. She has gotten hung up on trying to pantomime a face that can show no emotion due to Botox, pulling back the sides of her mouth in an exaggerated Botox induced grimace, but her giggles keep popping through. “Tu en yo no somos jovenes,” she says “tenemos arrugas, pero podemos reirnos!”- You and I are not young, we have wrinkles, but we can laugh! She is absolutely right.

I wish the laughing could continue, but all too soon she is asking me to conjugate the verb “to be” and I become taut with concentration. I can only understand about every third word she is speaking and I think I will be mortified if I have to say “Que?” one more time. I hope the she thinks my sweaty brow is due to the temperature-not my burning performance anxiety. Hey, maybe Tomasa is nervous-maybe that is why she is sweating!

Tomasa is in Guatemala city and we meet for an hour once a week over Zoom to help me learn some Spanish for my upcoming South American bike ride. This is one of the many things I am doing to prepare. I am also studying maps and reading blogs, doing 30 minutes of Duolingo daily, refitting my bike, seeking out appropriate gear, researching travel documents and bike flights and watching Uruguayan, Argentinian and Chilean movies. Most importantly though-I am learning to fend off well-meaning, comments that are soaked in fear. It feels like a form of martial arts. Duck and roll, pivot and avoid.

I know that people are just trying to express concern and care for me when they tell my that bicycling solo in South America is reckless or that I have no idea what I am getting into. But, I feel like I am in the locker room before an athletic event and rather than getting me psyched up to play hard, smart and safe-the comments make me feel deflated, as if someone is saying, “You know you are going to lose, right?”

Guess what? I am afraid. I am doing something new and challenging and make no mistake; I am sure the weather will be horrible, the roads rutted, the sun scorching and the miles long. I know that there will be scary drivers and I will be deeply lonely and that a bike theft could happen. I know that this is going to be really, really hard. If I were seeking a vacation that would stink, but I am not. I am seeking an adventure and people have been doing it forever.

Rock climbers climb-I assure you that it is dangerous. When people headed out on the Oregon trail-friends and family, no doubt lost sleep worrying for their safety. When the first person sailed solo across the ocean-I am certain that their mother cried. Did the gnashing of anybody’s teeth ever help them achieve what they were attempting? I think not. It is just rattling.

So don’t be afraid for me-I already have that covered. Instead ask me questions. What, where, how? That will make me learn more and figure out answers.

I do believe that most people are good-no matter what their nationality. That you can find bad drivers and rutted roads everywhere. And that, most importantly, real connection in life requires vulnerability, whether it is connection to people or places or to ourselves-and that is always risky.

And besides…I can always take a bus.