Maybe the bananas. Maybe the marbles. Maybe those classic looking gears inside a classic looking watch or grandfather clock.
I think I need a good avocado, a hug from Orange Cat and a decent night's sleep.
I have two more weeks (give two days) of travel before I return to the home of my family and friends.
I don't think I can call it "my" home, but it's the home of the people I've known the longest.
When I get back to the states (or perhaps whilst soaring over the Atlantic) I'll write about the things I've learned. The special moments that stand out in my ho-hum life of "Am I on a Yacht?" "Are We in a Cave?" and "Did We Accidentally Just Hitchhike with Albanian Smugglers Who Bought Us Very Nice and Fluffy Cappuccinos?"
But for now...
I need to sort through the loose screws (there are many) and see that if I find enough of them, things will get back on track.
And by things, I mean my brain.
Being a vagabond and relying on the kindness of others means a lot of things.
Some of the positives
- Getting to meet loads of special people
- Getting to see loads of unusual places
- Getting to learn loads about yourself while you're learning about the world. Yada-yada-yada.
- Having faith restored in humanity and all that jazz
- When you find yourself CSing with someone who falls for you and you don't quite reciprocate. If this happens whilst in your hometown, no problem. You can be like, "Welp, that was a wee bit awkward. Guess I won't go on a date with him again. Phew." But if you're living with the fellow? You have to think, Errmm... here we go again. Guess I'll just try to walk with my hands in my pockets so he doesn't try to hold them and make it very clear that I'm not interested while trying not to offend him too badly because... well... I have to LIVE with him. F*ck.
- When you find yourself doing things you really dislike but feel like you can't say no because hey, your host is being nice. Right?
- When you have no control over your bedtime. You have no transportation. You have no keys to the apartment and sometimes end up feeling like a child who has to be taken care of.
- When you find yourself eating things you dislike, but feel like you can't refuse because hey, they're being nice. Right?
I mean, I used to not like mushrooms (fungus is gross, right?). I used to think I was allergic to cheese and that god created pigs for the sole purpose of frolicking in the forest and not crackling in the skillet and getting chummy with the eggs on my plate.
But there are some things I really, REALLY don't like. A dislike that radiates from the core of my being.
However.
A life reliant on strangers makes dislikes seem unreasonable and ungrateful.
But I'm still human.
And this is where I'm going to vent all (a good deal of it, anyway) of the pent up angst of the past 15 months. Read on at your own risk. You might not like me at the end. You might dislike me as much as I dislike gluten-free bread.
Aimee's Vast List of DISLIKES
(The Things I Sometimes Wish I Could Say to Your Face, But Can't 'Cos I'm Living with You)
I Dislike Feeling Compelled to Stay with People I Dislike
I think it can generally be agreed upon that I'm an amiable sort of animal. In fact, this is probably my greatest advantage as a solo traveler -- my well-rounded amiability. I like people and people (more often than not) like me (or find me vaguely amusing, at the very least). But sometimes I meet CSers or workaway hosts who just get under my skin -- sometimes because they're manipulative/aggressive and sometimes because they... well... just irritate me. Harriet was manipulative and F*cking 30 Degrees was bloody annoying. Were I functioning in the security of my own space, it would be much easier to say, "It makes me uncomfortable when you ask me to tell you about the emotions I swallow," or "I have absolutely no interest in listening to you degrade women from different cultures with such narrow-minded stereotypes. Thank-you. Now I'm going to enjoy the perfect sea and the beautiful weather and smile at people who look at me like an idiot for swimming in my hobo clothes."
Sigh.
"But Aimee," you say, "can't you just leave? I mean really, why stay with someone you don't like?"
"Well," I respond testily, having been asked this question 87 too many times before, "You try finding a couchsurfing host in Skopje. There are like, four. And only one of them replies to your request. His profile looks normal, his references look good, so you say... Great! Splendid! By golly, I'll take it. When you get there you realize that his student dorm is actually a vile space in which no living creature (besides those who actually create vile spaces. Like spiders and centipedes and whatever monster was happily growing in the coffee grounds) should reside, but what do you do? Your host isn't a rapist or a murderer... you're not going to die. The whole situation is just distinctly unpleasant. You could try to find a hostel, but this late in the game, most hostels will either be completely booked or only offer expensive private rooms. You could try to find another couchsurfing host... but if you leave so shortly after arriving, you are definitely going to get a negative reference. Which will make it harder to find a host the next time you need a couch. So you try to make friends with the spiders and the coffee monster and live the two days with a stream of "onlytwodays,onlytwodays,onlytwodays" underlining all your thoughts and putting excited exclamation marks at the ends."
"Oh wow, thanks for the nice tour of the city. I had no idea that Skopje had such eclectic history."
(onlytwodays!!!!!onlytwodays!!!!!onlytwodays!!!!!onlytwodays!!!!! onlytwodays!!!!! onlytwodays!!!)
And not only do you feel trapped in a bad situation, if you're like me, you feel guilty about feeling trapped -- because a lot of the time, your hosts are just outrageously odd/lonely people who are trying to be generous (and to make some sort of human contact). They're offering what they have to offer. I feel rude not just gratefully accepting what they have to offer. Unfortunately, it occasionally occurs that I do not LIKE what they have to offer. Many of our moments together are spent with me thinking, OH MY GOD, I WOULD NEVER HANG OUT WITH YOU IN REAL LIFE.
Wait a minute, Bourget. This is your real life.
Well... I wouldn't hang out with them in the real life of most people.
And, em... how does that apply to you?
It doesn't, damnit! But this is making me lose my bananas. I want to look at this person and say, "I'm sorry, but you're making me lose my bananas and I think I'll be going now." But I CAN'T SAY THAT. Because I'm living on his couch.
Mmm.... that does appear to be the case.
Man... I just wanna be with Janet. I just wanna be with people who will stop trying to feed me f*cking potatoes and asking me why I don't think of them like a boyfriend/trying to seduce me whilst giving me a massage.
I Dislike People Falling in Love with Me After Just Three Days/Telling Me They Want an American Wife/Girlfriend Just Like Me
Maybe you think it's flattering to let your guest know how attracted to them you are, but allow me a moment or two to burst your bubble.
It's not flattering.
It's annoying and it makes my stay with you tremendously unpleasant.
Keep that business to yourself, s'il vous plait. You are allowed to give me subtle hints. Subtle hints are fine. Subtle hints can be ignored and life can carry on without undue awkwardness.
"You look really beautiful in that dress," is fine. That's lovely. I can smile at you and say, "You think so? Aw, thanks, I like it too."
"I would like to buy you underwear but I don't want to imagine someone else taking it off of you," is not fine (this was said to me in Morocco). I turn into stone and say, "I don't need underwear."
(although I usually really do need underwear)
And a full on, "I think I love you," Just. Isn't. Fair.
"I want a girlfriend like you," is stupid. John Mayer can hardly get away with lyrics like "I'm gonna find another you." What you want is me, and this is not a subtle or tactful way of saying it. So don't say it.
"I want to find an American wife," makes me cringe. I don't think I need to explain why.
If I want you, I'll let you know (I'm quite assertive in that department, apparently). But telling ME you're interested in me while I'm dependent on YOU is bad form. It makes me feel pressured and serves to taint your generosity with ideas of, "Is he only doing this for me so I'll sleep with him? If that's true, should I accept this gift?"
So stop it.
If I want to hold your hand, I'll go for it. If I want to kiss you, let me make it happen. But don't even think about trying something with me while I'm your guest. I've had it past my hairy armpits and all the way up to my very hairy eyebrows with blokes who don't consider my feelings when they tell me theirs.
If you try to hold my hand and discover that I've managed to magically wriggle away, this does not mean that we're playing a funny game of chase and you should try to catch my hand again.
It means you should back the f*ck off.
If you ask if I'm attracted to you and I say, "no," it does not mean "ask me again in five minutes."
It means I'm not attracted to you. End of story.
And in regards to, "no..."
I say "no" nicely because I'm a nice person and because I don't want things to be more uncomfortable than you've already made them. A nice "no" does not mean a reluctant "yes".
Don't make me an asshole. Don't make me say the things to your face that I'm writing here. Just accept my nice no and we can move on with life.
A host once told me he was infatuated with me and asked to hold my hand. I told him, "I'm not comfortable with that," and he said, "thanks for being so honest."
And that was it.
And it was a beautiful thing.
Unfortunately, it usually doesn't happen like that.
I spent over a month in Morocco with a host who would regularly inform me of how he masturbated with me in mind and all the things he would like to do to my nipples. This was after I'd told him (repeatedly), "I am not attracted to you and it makes me uncomfortable when you flirt with me because I'm a guest in your home."
Stop it. Stop it now.
I Dislike Having to Eat Things I Dislike Eating
While I'm on the subject of potatoes...
I'm a grown-up, right? I don't have parents pushing me to eat my peas, extolling the many virtues of the cauliflower and telling me that I can't leave the table until I swallow every last slimy blob of Calvin and Hobbes style broccoli/tofu mash (a staple of my childhood. Not as disgusting as it sounds, actually).
But the life of a penniless vagabond is not the life of a grown-up. Not when it comes to food, anyway. No, as a penniless vagabond, you eat what you're given and you're grateful for it (damnit!). There are other vagabonds eating cans of beans on the sides of roads and you're sitting in a warm kitchen with a plate full of potatoes and beans.
My experience with Harriet taught me just how personally people can take eating.
And now I'm rather traumatized. If I say, "Umm... I actually prefer not to eat a lot of carbs," I feel like my host will burst into big, fat tears.
My experience in Italy taught me how difficult it can be to always say, "basta".
And now I'm rather traumatized. If I say, "basta!" I feel like there will be a lot of yelling and the food will end up on my plate regardless.
So I've learned to say "thank-you, that's wonderful," to a slice of gluten-free bread with some vegan spread smeared on top.
Attitude of gratitude, right? Blurgh. I am... grateful... very, very grateful...for this thing I have absolutely no desire to eat.
But not so far deep down (right under my epidermal layer, in fact), I long for the days when I was bringing home the bacon and could take the metaphorical bacon to the local health food store and purchase my nitrite-free, non-metaphorical bacon. I could drink my raw, organic goat milk with honey and cocoa powder and eat eggs and avocados and buy the fish oil I needed to make my joints happy and my psoriasis calm down.
I liked making my own choices. I liked only keeping food healthy for me in the fridge.
Those days are gone. And I miss them.
I hate vegan food and I can't abide "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!" and all his equally repulsive relations. Seitan is the devil incarnate and I can't stand people who preach that you'll die an early death if you consume free-range eggs or too much salt.
If I could say it to your face?
Please. Stop thinking that you're doing me a favor by buying me the things that are healthy for you. Want to do me a favor? Ask me what's healthy for me and we can go from there.
"what's healthy for you?"
These are the things that are healthy for me:
Good quality meat
Fish oil
Vegetables
Nuts/seeds
Eggs
Cheese (this is more for my soul, but hey)
I do not like potatoes. Actually, I hate potatoes. Do not try to feed me potatoes. I will throw them at you. You will not like this, but I hardly care at this point.
DO NOT BUY ME GLUTEN-FREE FOOD.
I can't eat pasta. That is okay. I have come to terms with the lack of pasta in my life. I'm hunky-dory down with it and I don't want a pasta substitute. I don't want a bread substitute. You put a piece of cheese between two pieces of bread. I eat three pieces of cheese.
"But what do you eat for breakfast?"
"My good fellow, I am thrilled to pieces to eat fruit and yogurt for breakfast. Or eggs and vegetables. Or a cappuccino. Or cheese and bacon. Or anything that does not have/should have gluten."
I hate having to explain this again and again and again.
I do not want a gluten-free piece of bread for breakfast. The only time I enjoy gluten-free food is when (as in the case of Felix) it's a cultural thing that I'd like to try once. For the experience of trying it.
Dumplings in Vienna. Awesome. Once.
Pizza in Napoli. Awesome. Once.
Baklava in Istanbul. Awesome. Once.
I Dislike Always Repeating Myself
I'm truly getting tired of hearing myself talk. Different people draw out different things, sure, but some parts of my story are always the same.
"No, I never really went to school before university. Yes, that is actually legal in Colorado. No, I was raised in a pretty conservative community, so even though I've traveled a lot, I still have so much to learn about culture. Example? Umm...my first time watching Friends was in Germany. Last year."
I want to start making up different stories for myself. Stories that involve growing up all over the world, speaking many languages and occasionally wielding a quarterstaff. Preferably atop precarious rope bridges with piranhas below.
I Dislike Having to Talk About Things in Which I'm Not Remotely Interested
You know how you make friends with people who talk about things that you like to talk about?
I guess I don't really have that luxury. My friends are often like family. In that Life chooses them for me.
I know that I can learn something from everyone and that every conversation and interaction is an opportunity for growth... (look at me bein' all mature and stuff) but sometimes I simply want to be with people who talk about the things that are naturally interesting to me. Things about which I don't have to force/feign interest. Where I don't need to maintain the inner-monologue of, Aimee... pay attention. You can learn from everyone. What can you learn now?
Inner-monologues are exhausting and distracting. But when you're having a conversation that flows simply, easily and with excitement, the inner-monologues tends to simply...evaporate.
I don't like to talk about music (I'm surprised YOU can't hear my inner-monologue when you're talking to me about music). I like to listen to music. I like to enjoy music. Don't talk to me about this musician or that musician. Just play the damn song already. And then be quiet and let me enjoy it.
I don't like to talk about film. Just show me the damn film. Stop saying, "have you ever seen? NO? ohmygod, why not? What, were you born under a rock? (insert disgruntled glower from Aimee) Well, there's this scene that goes --"
No. Stop it. Stop it now. Sit me down on your couch and just show me the whole thing. If you're nice enough, I might even give you a massage (the non-seductive kind) while we watch.
If you mention the weather more than five times a day (unless you're Irish and have legitimate cause to be concerned), you risk being umm... glared at. Ferociously. And maybe I'll throw a potato at you for good measure.
Youtube videos. I hate them. Do not show me a youtube video unless it includes a) Tim Minchin b) John Cleese or c) those weird monkeys that are like midget sloths in slow-motion.
I like to talk about philosophy and psychology. I like to talk about travel and religion. I like to listen to you talk about the things you love to do.
I like to talk about food (especially cheese).
I Dislike Cooking in Your Kitchen.
Especially if You Are French, Italian or Turkish. Extra Especially if
Your Kitchen is Sooper Dooper Clean
I love cooking. Anyone who has met me/read a single post in my blog understands how cooking makes my heart soar on wings of Istanbul's green parakeets.
But I really dislike cooking in your kitchen (with a few notable exceptions). I don't know how your oven works. I don't know which spices are which or the rules you have for washing your pots and pans and knives. I don't know your unique preferences when it comes to food.
"Wait, you don't eat garlic? Oops. Umm... no oil at all? Err.... vegan? No sweet mixed with savory? Right, right... you only eat it the way your mom makes it. But...the only seasoning you have is a half empty bottle of oregano? Well... you have an aubergine. I like aubergine. I can work with aubergine."
45 minutes later...
"Do you have anything else? What happened to the aubergine? Well...I accidentally turned the aubergine into pure carbon because your oven is a wee bit hotter than I'm used to."
I also dislike not having my own kitchen. Generally.
I want to open the fridge and know that everything in there is mine and can be eaten without pangs of guilt causing my gut to cramp.
Did I work hard enough for this?
I do not like your little coffee cups. What is the purpose of a little coffee cup? A little coffee cup is as bad as an ENORMOUS ice cream spoon.
It ensures that the good thing is gone in half a moment.
I Dislike Feeling Compelled to DO Things I Dislike
As with conversation, people who pick their own friends befriend those who do things both parties find agreeable.
"You like chasing squirrels?"
"I like chasing squirrels!"
"Win! You and me, let's go chase squirrels together!"
But when Life chooses your friends, you often end up spending heaps of time with people who do things that you just.... gah... things you just can't wrap any piece of your body/mind around (regardless of what kind of yoga ninja you are).
Chaotic, loud concerts are not my cup of tea. I get claustrophobic and panicky. I do not enjoy myself. I try really hard to look like I'm having a good time because I don't want to spoil the event for you, but I'm dying on the inside.
Going to a beach for 6 hours without an umbrella/access to shade is not my cup of tea. Sicilians dragging me to the sea for this period of time is equivalent to me making you hike a 14er when you've spent the last 20 years of your life at sea level.
It's just not pleasant.
"But Aimee," you persist, "Can't you just, you know, choose people who have similar interests? I mean, you have access to their profiles and you can Skype them and everything... right? Just pick people more carefully, you nitwit."
"Ahem," I clear my throat in a way that suggests I've been eating carbonized (is that a word?) aubergine for the last three months, "Are you telling met that you can get an accurate gauge of a person's personality online? Because I certainly can't. Remember Harriet? I thought we'd be best buds. Her emails and her profile made her sound like a pleasant, down-to-earth woman who would make my stay relaxing and healthy. Nowhere on her profile did she mention that she worships aliens and that she bursts into tears of rage when her helpers don't use the cauliflower leaves properly."
I Dislike Feeling Like I'm Always Auditioning
Meeting new people all the time can be excruciating not only because you're tired of hearing your voice tell the same old story for the umpteenth time, but because maybe... maybe these people won't like your story. And you're staying with them, right? So it raises the stress level by about 871 percent. If you're meeting people at the James Bond themed cocktail party of a friend, then the stakes... umm, excuse me? What stakes? If the person doesn't like your story, meh. Find another James Bond to talk to (there are plenty of them).
But I feel like I've already been given the part and then have to prove that I deserve it. Which is why auditioning for theatre would feel like a breeze after two and a half years of proving I deserve the parts I've been given.
I Dislike People Expecting Me to Teach Them Yoga Just Because I'm a Yoga Teacher
If I'm staying with you for two days and you've never done yoga before, please don't ask me to share yoga with you and your friend and your friend's elderly mum who smells of lavender and has a hip replacement. There are more styles of yoga than Ben and Jerry's flavors of ice cream, and my flavor is an acquired taste and one that cannot be acquired by someone with injuries or someone who is massively overweight (smelling of lavender is usually okay).
So one lesson is just depressing. Because you will hate it and this will make me sad. If you've never done yoga before, try a Hatha class. If you have injuries, find a yoga therapist.
Do not try vinyasa. Vinyasa is for athletes and dancers and experienced yogis. It is not for your elderly mum who smells of lavender and has a hip replacement.
I Dislike the Jobs I'd NEVER Do at "Home"
Ironing.
I will cook breakfast, lunch and dinner for you (although I might burn the aubergine). I will play with your children, train your horses, walk your dogs and teach English to your students. I will make the kitchen as clean as I can (from my perspective of clean... which is quite different from the perspective of a Turkish woman), but do not make me iron.
I do not understand the purpose.
I've ironed bedsheets before. WHY? You are sleeping on your bedsheets, are you not? You are not going to work. You are not going to some big audition or on a hot date. Why do you spend your valuable time taking wrinkles out of something that you're going to collapse onto later?
Time. Time is so, so precious.
Why use it to iron? Why don't you put your wrinkled sheets on top of your comfortable bed and take a nap instead?
Weeding lawns/driveways.
What's wrong with weeds? Really? Dandelions are beautiful and healthy and delicious. Why must you have a perfectly manicured, boring lawn without smiling yellow faces? Instead of spending all your time uprooting edible flowers and watering inedible grass, plant some fruit trees and grow some squash. I would be happy to plant squash/fruit trees for you.
But please don't make me pull up the happy yellow faces.
I Dislike Feeling Compelled to Wear Things I DO NOT WANT to Wear
Slippers.
Stop offering me slippers in your house. I don't want to wear slippers. I want to feel the floor. I'll wash my feet when they get dirty, but please don't make me cover them always. Especially when your "slippers" resemble plastic high heels (this was an all too common phenomenon in Turkey). I only like to wear slippers when it is a) FREEZING or b) they have cute animal faces on them.
Super modest/professional clothing.
I understand I can't be naked all the time (which I find overwhelmingly sad), but I don't like you telling me what's appropriate and inappropriate. I wear a sarong and yoga pants because society says I can't be naked, but bras and stiff material and makeup just feel inconsistent with my personality.
And the fact that I like to be naked does not mean I want you all up in my naked business. Believe it or not.
I Dislike Letting You Teach Me Things I Already Know
Just because I'm new to your city/country does not mean I'm new to life -- but some people host couchsurfers/volunteers because they have the desire to teach. Always. While I have the energy to humor your type from time to time, I do not have the fortitude to be treated like a child always.
I am a beginner, that's true. I try to treat the world like I'm seeing it anew every moment. But this does not mean that I'm utterly incompetent and that I need you to hold my hand every step of the journey. I don't like the idea of traveling from one hand to another, unable to hold myself. I have been moving around the world for 26 months (both trips combined), and the vast majority has been without you. I was fine before I met you and I'll be fine after I leave you. I'm not helpless and my tolerance for difficult situations is much higher than my tolerance for condescending nincompoops, at present.
I'm a solo female traveler.
This does not mean you need to take care of me 100% of the time.
I'm ecstatic and grateful that you're sharing moments with me. That you're sharing your city and your home and your culture with me.
But please don't treat me like a child just because I don't know how to open your front door (I'm really bad at doors) and it takes me a few tries to light the stove.
I Dislike You Telling Me That I'll Grow Up
I don't do or have the things that society says makes one a "grown up".
No steady job, no steady boyfriend, no kids and no home.
This does not mean that in order to be treated like I'm living the "real life" I need to live a life that resembles yours.
Life is real if you're walking a path you've chosen and not a path others have set before you, shoved you onto, and solemnly said "this is the only way."
My path will evolve as I flow through life. Priorities will shift as my body changes and my experience grows.
But it really bothers me when you tell me just how it's gonna be. If I want to have my fortune read, I'll pay a wrinkled lady with a crystal ball and a funny hat. Or get some Turkish kids to use the app on their iPhone to read my coffee grounds.
So stop telling me that I need to fall in love and make babies and settle down.
I Dislike Myself for Not Having the Courage to Say this to Your Face
Walking on eggshells makes me feel like a manipulative coward. Smiling to your face and grimacing behind your back makes me feel like a liar. I wish I could say these things (or at least stand up for myself once in a while), but I'm so afraid of making you angry and sabotaging my future (through negative references) that I keep my mouth shut and my grimaces hidden.
I was recently in an uncomfortable situation with a host who fell for me quickly and hard.
(don't ask me why or how this happens)
I made it very clear that I wasn't attracted to him, but he persisted in trying to hold my hand and get to the bottom of my problem.
Or his problem.
The problem of why I just wasn't attracted to him.
I tried to let him down gently.
"I'm just not in a place where I'm interested in romance."
"No, that is not it. If you meet someone you really love, you don't care about that."
"I don't feel a romantic connection with you, though. It just isn't there."
"Why isn't it there?"
I got tired of these conversations and of finding pretty things to point at so that I could slide my hand away.
So I found another place to stay.
Usually, I would just put up with these conversations until my arranged stay was finished... but now?
NO.
I do not like it when you take advantage of my vulnerability like this.
And now I'm just gonna leave.
But I wish... I wish I had the courage to say this to your face while I'm with you. Perhaps this post is a step in that direction.
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