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Hitchhiking, thumb philosophy

With just a smile, the thumb of my right hand and a pinch of patience, in 2009 I traveled through the south, west coast and north of France, starting in Girona and ending in Paris, a year later I traveled from the north of Peru to Bogotá crossing all of Ecuador and the South of Colombia, then I spent a month touring Tibet, later I visited each of the 11 countries of the Balkans, also hitchhiking, in addition to various other adventures such as spending three weeks exploring Indonesia or having it as habitual form of travel while living in Greece, Croatia and Canada. A lover of intuitive and improvised routes and a traveler of uncertain paths, being able to enjoy meeting and discovering people at random has become a fundamental ingredient of my trips. That said, I officially declare myself a lover and staunch follower of hitchhiking, a true philosophy of thumb.

Hitchhiking is a travel philosophy that ensures adventures and learning

I call it philosophy because for me it has a series of factors and values that make it such, starting of course because its conception is totally individual and personal. In my case, if I decide that hitchhiking is the means of transportation during a trip, I demand that I not spend a single cent on trips and that they all be done on foot or by hitchhiking. On occasions I have walked for many hours without any vehicle stopping, being cold or even being forced to sleep in unattractive places. However, sooner or later chance always strikes in my favor again and when incredible situations happen in the future, I never forget the path that took me there. This situation has made me develop the certainty that when traveling it is irrelevant how much you walk and there is no point in despairing, because the further you go, the closer you will be to another place.

Hitchhiking is a way to meet wonderful people

Trucks, motorcycles, tractors, station wagons, sports cars, caravans or even boats, hitchhiking has not only allowed me to travel regularly with practically no budget, but has also given me unforgettable adventures, anecdotes and friendships. In Ecuador, I ended up sleeping in churches in lost mountain towns; in Tibet I rode on the back of a motorcycle driven by a monk; In Colombia, faced with a choice of roads, I decided to take the shortest one and it turned out that I entered the Amazon jungle and ended up in an indigenous village; In Bosnia I traveled with a singer from the Budapest opera, who willingly gave me a demonstration inside the car (testing the resistance of the glass); At the Oracle of Delphi (Greece), at night and after several hours, a car finally stopped and it turned out that the driver was accompanied in the passenger seat, with the seat belt fastened… a teddy bear! Of course I couldn’t pass up such an opportunity, I got on board and ended up visiting an authentic Greek wedding with the boy, having drinks in an exclusive bar next to the spectacular monasteries of Meteora and sleeping at his house wearing blue silk pajamas after enjoying the delicious Greek dinner that his mother prepared. And these are just a few examples.

I hitchhiked through Tibet for a month. Simply wonderful.

Although it is true that hitchhiking is an exercise that involves exposing yourself to risks that are out there, it is therefore necessary to have all your senses and instincts awake in order to minimize the chances of having to face an inopportune situation. Although it may sound reactionary, my advice is that a girl never hitchhikes alone and that she do so, if possible, accompanied by a boy. Unfortunately I have known a large number of cases that support this opinion.

In countries with a lot of highways like France, toll points are good places to hitchhike

A circumstance that usually appears when traveling, especially when done alone, is that our natural instincts become more acute, so it is often a good decision to follow them without hesitation. On dozens of occasions, while hitchhiking, a vehicle has stopped whose driver, for whatever reason, I did not inspire confidence in and, after thanking him for stopping, I have simply continued walking. Perhaps my suspicions were unfounded, but when traveling any gesture that minimizes the risks automatically maximizes the chances that our adventure will be a success. Likewise, when you have a good feeling for the driver, I believe that you have to get on that vehicle, even if they insist that they can only take us a few kilometers or go in another direction, after all, we travel to have adventures and the Happiness is not in the destination but in the path, right? In France, an older man who was driving with his Nigerian wife, after stopping and asking me about my destination, told me that he could only take me about 5 kilometers, but he gave me such a good feeling that I got on anyway. I ended up at a campsite with them cooking, having a barbecue next to their caravan from which, upon arriving at the campsite, they began to leave one by one and up to nine, all the couple’s children, tall and short, white, black and mulattoes, with straight, long hair and Rastafarian… the 9 completely different children, as if it were a comedy! I wish there was a photograph that testifies to the look on my face in that situation, because it made the entire family laugh out loud for several minutes… which in this case is not saying something.

Truckers stop a lot, and generally have a great conversation.

When people ask me for advice on traveling, the first thing I answer is that the fundamental thing is to know yourself, since there are as many ways to travel as there are people in the world, so I always advise spending time studying and getting to know yourself in order to develop a travel mode that suits each one. If you are the type of traveler who considers it essential to be able to connect with other people and enjoy the journey without haste or script and that, perhaps the thumb philosophy is yours, because you are only completely free when you don’t know where you are going…and you don’t You care about absolutely nothing.

You are only completely free when you don't know where you are going and you don't care about anything at all.

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The pillars of positivism

You are happy? She asked a small squirrel for a boa seconds before devouring it while she compressed the small rodent’s body more and more with her tight muscles. ‘Of course, I always have been and always will be’ – But you know you’re about to die, isn’t that perhaps a bone of contention for you? – If the fact of dying in this way made me unhappy, that would mean that my whole life has been false, because if I have always felt so lucky to be able to run and jump freely among the trees, then it would make no sense for me to regret it now. and cry for falling prey to one of the dangers that have always existed out there. I knew you were there and that this moment could come, but I was still always happy to be able to enjoy playing freely on the field. – I guess now you can say that you are no longer so free, just before you die. – You are wrong, dear boa, because freedom does not end with captivity, much less with death, my happiness always made me free and free I leave, true to my style, happy.

We often ignore the tremendous value of freedom

Every time I return home for a while, many people ask me about what adversities and hard times I have gone through during my adventures, assuming that it is impossible to maintain a positive mood constantly, so I always remind them of the phrase that has accompanied me since I was little. , and they are talking to the happiest person in the world by far about the second. From the deepest humility and respect for the way of understanding each person’s life, I move on to describe the keys that govern a journey marked by enthusiasm, enthusiasm and joviality, these are the pillars of positivism.

What is perfect can be improved. Most people will tell you that perfection does not exist, and I affirm, without fear of being wrong, that they are resoundingly wrong. A given situation or moment can not only be perfect, but also when you realize that it is and you are sure that nothing could improve, then it happens, the perfect improves. It is a condition that has happened to me dozens of times, contemplating in awe the sublime perfection of a moment and sinning again in innocence when witnessing the present becoming something even higher.

Everything, everything and everything in this life is relative. Never be sure that your opinion is correct and you will be right. Each situation and person has an infinite number of factors that we neither know nor understand but that directly influence the judgment of each individual. One of the weakest favors that society does to our personal development is having convinced us in a certain way that being right makes us more illustrious, when in reality it is just an illusion created by our pride to generate small doses of ephemeral satisfaction. There is no more appropriate and ideal occasion to learn than when opinions that are contrary or disparate to our opinion are presented to us, but to do so we must accept the subjectivity of what is true, especially respecting those points of view that we do not understand and taking advantage of the fact that everything is relative. to enjoy the diversity and plurality of life itself.

There is nothing impossible…until you are completely sure you have tried everything. In this case, the second part is the most important part of the phrase, since the simple fact of trying everything is already a palpable triumph and even frequently when you give everything you have inside, even if the desired end is not achieved, sometimes not even It is relevant, because our efforts have taken us to another place or made us see things in a different way, an exercise that inevitably entails positive learning.

It is in your power to overcome laziness and start doing what you love.

This essay is by no means intended to be a guide or reference for the search for happiness, but only a mere exercise in sharing suggestions that have proven to be effective in facing life with a smile, always maintaining the spirit of trying to learn. fight and dream under any circumstance.

The conclusion is that we should not settle or be blinded by always searching for more or better, but rather focus on fully appreciating what we have at that moment but keeping our senses awake to capture new circumstances that make the situation even better, more perfect. It’s like magic, it exists and it is possible, but you have to believe.

Free yourself from your fears and think, act and fly free

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A portrait of tolerance

In today’s globalized world, with easy access to information (and misinformation), and where everyone comfortably finds an editorial home for their opinion through social networks, the use of the term tolerance has been emphasized to label opinions or behaviors for free, thus blurring the true meaning of this value that we dare to portray throughout this article.

A portrait of tolerance

In everyday life, it is common to find situations in which we disagree with friends, family or our partner. Although it is often difficult for us to believe it, each person, no matter how radical, conceited or even absurd it may seem to us, is completely sure that their judgment is correct, fair and, to its extent, the most tolerant. That is why labeling one’s neighbor as intolerant often automatically labels the accuser as such, not being able to understand that our fellow man does not have bad intentions nor does he have to be a cretin, he simply has a different perspective than ours. Yes, treasure, and it is pride that weakens our capacity for conversation, reducing to a minimum the margin to take advantage of the opportunity to learn. We are distressed by the opposing opinion as if it were a personal attack, and that is when we use the resource of (in)tolerance to discredit our opponent, doing a very disservice to the reputation of this term.

On the other hand, there is its political use, since it is used as a tool to repress our most accurate behavior and impulses. You cannot criticize one thing or express another, because you must be tolerant, but is there perhaps greater intolerance than drawing or surrounding the opinion of others, whatever that may be? The problem is not the message, but the forms; It is not the content, but the intention. Expressing opinions, beliefs and values is as necessary as it is instructive, but the quality of tolerance and the basis of a constructive conversation lies in the delicacy of being able to do so without hurting the sensibilities of others.

The problem is not the message, but the forms; It is not the content, but the intention.

Tolerance is not about being pleased with what is different, but about accepting and respecting what bothers you, what you hate, what is the opposite of you. Fortunately, it is unquestionable that in the increasingly near future globalization will be a complete reality and people of different races, cultures, religions, sexual inclinations and even musical tastes will coexist anywhere. By then, the meaning of this word will be different from what it is today, perhaps it will no longer be used to adorn egos or dress pride, but being tolerant will be so normal and accepted that the simple fact of mentioning it will seem ridiculous.

It is important to be aware that expressing the need to be tolerant towards someone makes a difference, being used as a compassionate weapon that places the person we are addressing on a different, lower level. In short, tolerance is not said, it is done. Excuse me, I started to dream, and while dreaming I dreamed that we didn’t all look the same, but in reality we were.

Tolerance is not said, it is done

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Let's remove "share" from the dictionary

I don’t want there to be a term for something that should be a gesture as natural as breathing, I don’t want to think about how much I have left if I give a part, nor doubt the need of someone I can simply help. I dream of destroying stereotypes and prejudices by which those who give without expecting anything in return are judged, of giving when I feel like it and not when it is dictated to me. Please, let’s remove “share” from the dictionary.

Let's remove 'Share' from the dictionary

Some defend the value of their belongings by praising such ephemeral goods as even drinks or food because “they have earned it with their effort”, and the last thing I would do is judge each person’s efforts, but that statement seems as illusory as it is unfair to me. Or would your vigor and sacrifice have served the same purpose if you had been born in the Horn of Africa, without a leg or having grown up being mistreated by your parents?

Think about it, if those who have nothing offer everything without hesitation, why do we, who have been so graceful and fortunate, have the need to create and use the term “sharing” as a social reward for which we can feel proud of a good deed? , when in reality it is not such, but is something inherent and inherent to human nature?

Whenever I have traveled to disadvantaged communities I have been amazed at how they share everything

While on an Indonesian island filming a documentary, I arrived at a remote mountain village after several hours of walking, showing visible signs of hunger and exhaustion. After a couple of minutes walking through the shacks of the town, a local woman invited me to go up to her house under the pretext of offering me food, although in reality she was about to give me one of the most brutal lessons of my existence.

It's a fact: humble people share more and better

After taking off my shoes at the door, I entered the main living room and sat on the wooden floor next to his three children, all visibly under ten years old, who were watching and touching my audiovisual equipment with fascination. After a few minutes, the woman entered with a bowl of rice, placed it on the floor and carried out a gesture that caused my consternation at that moment and that I would never forget: with a fork she divided the rice into two equal parts, serving one of them on my plate and depositing the rest between the plates of his three children. He neither asked nor smiled as a sign of complicity, nor would it have been of any use if I had expressed my renunciation of such distribution of food, because, despite the fact that it was evident that just the equipment he was carrying was worth more than all the family’s belongings. , house included, without thinking and in a natural way, she had just offered me the same amount of rice as her three children, leaving her without eating a bite.

Always offer, never doubt, never judge. Decide between thinking that you deserve your belongings or that it is lucky and privileged that you have them. In an act of insanity, commit the audacity to go through your possessions and simply hand them over to someone who doesn’t need them. Then maybe your dementia will turn into nonsense and you can finally eliminate the term ‘sharing’ from your dictionary.

Friendship is usually a good excuse to share without regard

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If languages did not exist

Today’s article is not just based on random reasoning, but when I decided to come to Tibet I estimated that the language barrier would be a great impediment to communication and, yet, spending four weeks constantly communicating with the local inhabitants but without being able to speak with no one it has opened many other paths and digressions for me. I admit to experiencing the most accurate smiles and connecting in a deep place with each person I meet, something that has made me wonder what the world would be like if languages did not exist.

Los niños tienen una gran capacidad comunicación no verbal

It would be a society in which there would be no place for dialectical manipulation and consequently there would be no politics or religion beyond that dictated by one’s own reason. Therefore, we would learn to judge and value those around us for their actions and purposes, the facts do not deceive and the consideration and reputation of each individual would be neither more nor less than deserved.

It would also have an impact on art, because if we imagine a world where songs do not have lyrics, I am convinced that we would be able to create, perceive and feel music in a more profound way. Just as there would be no artistic marketing that tries to sell us and convince us about what the works transmit, so speculation would be eliminated and art would be judged entirely by the emotions it is capable of producing in the audience.

And in love? There would be no courtship of verbiage, but rather that of facts, expression, feeling. Telltale looks and gestures would take more prominence, as would the ability to read and interpret them.

During these four weeks of travel in Tibet I have not been able to talk to anyone, but I have discovered a language of body expression that replaces words and is capable of accurately transmitting essential feelings such as courtesy, gratitude, esteem or respect. I respect. I have witnessed time and again how an honest gesture is worth a thousand words and, although it may sound strange, sometimes after leaving a place I have had the intense feeling that I truly knew some Tibetans whom I already, without a doubt, considered. my friends.

Tibetan temple on the mountain, school for young Buddhist monks

During the first week of the trip, I arrived with my camera and backpack at a monastery between mountains inhabited by 130 teenage monks tutored by a dozen senior lamas. The moment I arrived I found myself surrounded by a large number of boys who, motivated by their curiosity, asked me questions in Tibetan incessantly. It was a situation in which there were many things to say and share, but the language barrier seemed to prevent it. Almost certainly, it was the first time they had seen a Westerner and frustration was beginning to show on his face at not being able to communicate with me.

Not speaking the same language did not pose any barrier to them.

So, I decided it was time to take action, I took out my harmonica and started playing and dancing. The response was unforgettable, as the young monks who were still watching from a distance also approached and all together began to laugh, shout and applaud arrhythmically. Next, a boy showed me a textbook where images of different animals appeared, I read his intention and began to interpret their sounds to the general annoyance of the boys, after which some of them began to make their own version of onomatopoeias, something that helped us discover that animals that made exactly the same sounds were interpreted completely differently by them and by me. The young monks offered me room and board and I ended up living with them for three days, during which, despite not speaking the same language, we did not stop communicating for a moment. One morning, three of them even woke me up to invite me for a walk, in what ended up being a six-hour climb up the mountain that bordered the monastery in a snowstorm.

Young Tibetan monk resting in the forest

I will never forget the moment I had to leave that place, because a dozen of the teenage monks with whom I fraternized the most gathered to say goodbye. One of them approached and, touching his heart with one hand, extended the other to give me the necklace that until that moment was hanging from his neck. If he had said ‘goodbye’ or ‘thank you’ they would not have understood me, but those words were not necessary nor would they have done justice to what I truly felt at that moment. Instead, before I left, the boys and I connected through our gazes, in the eyes both my infinite gratitude and their extreme satisfaction for the adventure of human and cultural immersion that we had just shared were expressed. Without further ado, I left without saying or hearing anything, but the necklace that now hung around my neck and the looks he gave me as a reminder were one of the most intense messages I have ever experienced.

Obviously I have highlighted only the positive facets that come from this digression, since without a doubt life would lose its charm without being able to recite poetry, listen to an opera or say I love you. In short, if languages did not exist, we would boost our bodily expressiveness and human interaction to be able to transmit what we feel. We’d probably talk less, but I get the impression we’d probably say a lot more.

If languages did not exist we would speak less, but we would probably say a lot more

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Infinite

I thought the world was shrinking and I discovered a glimmer of eternal life,

in the eyes of the people, in their hospitality and in their altruistic wisdom,

sometimes he fled, but always forward, crossing barren lands

Under the full moon I found warmth in the abode of a learned magician.

It was in winter, touching the sky, I was in Tibet and there I discovered infinity.

I slipped away from the smoke and waves to finally breathe freely.

I went where no one had gone before to understand impossible things, certain things.

I savored the beauty of mystical places in human solitude.

I touched the sky with the tips of my fingers and felt the sun, cold.

I illuminated my nights with memories of diamonds and molten gold.

I received without asking and learned without studying,

I discovered that to say, it is not necessary to speak.

For a moment I thought I was walking, but I realized I was flying.

I had no hurry, no destiny or script, because this time the film was not directed by me, but by chance,

the chance of truth, fire and ambition.

The sky was so blue that it was blue even at night,

the looks so honest that sometimes they hurt,

reproaches did not exist in the land of incense,

When a defenseless heart cries, it really does so,

a community that is extinct is dying of reality.

I drew a platonic nirvana with my crystal wings

flying over mystical sanctuaries on hidden peaks,

Your irrational arguments neither intimidate nor scare me.

The brutal honesty of the magicians of asceticism

He gave a lesson in faith and hope to the preacher of illusionism.

By witnessing and suffering misfortune in a wise land

On this trip I cried swords of anguish for a paradise that is passing away,

but I will dream and fight for an impossible remedy, because that is what magic was created for.

It was there in Tibet, in its sky, in its eyes and on an unheard of path,

that finally, when I had given up, I discovered the infinite.

It was there, in Tibet, I discovered infinity

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The righteous wisdom of the Lama

On the seventh day of my trip through Tibet, I arrived at a small village located on the side of a mountain. A local approached me smiling and asked me to accompany him, leading me to a street in the middle of the village where there were around a dozen of people eating together from a large silver bowl. They offered me food and drink with prodigious cordiality and joviality and, after a while, a Tibetan monk appeared and urged me to accompany him, an invitation I gladly accepted. Since then, every step I took with him towards his house brought me closer to discovering the Lama’s righteous wisdom.

En la casa del Lama

Two other monks were in a tiny living room sitting on the wooden floor, while the lama’s elderly mother alternated two teapots over the fire of her wood stove to ensure that the tea she offered us was at its optimal temperature throughout. moment. After a couple of hours of chatting, the two invited monks left the house guarded by the host, a moment that I took advantage of to start writing sitting on the windowsill of the house’s balcony.

The Tibetan Lama

Dusk was already falling and a few minutes later, without sensing his presence until he was right next to me, the lama placed a bunch of plants and a basin of water without making any comment. I sensed his suggestion, I sat on the floor and undid the string that tied the vegetables together, beginning to submerge them in the icy water of the bucket provided by the lama before his attentive gaze, sitting silently on a wooden chair a little more than a meter from me. . Cleaning each plant one by one with caresses under his silent and unalterable supervision, time passed, turning such a simple and everyday task into a lesson of incalculable value and beauty.

The tea was always hot thanks to the system of two teapots on the fire.

The moment he finished the last floor, he got up and left the room to return a few seconds later with a wooden board and a knife that he would leave next to me before recovering his seat and position on the wooden chair arranged in the center of the room. the small room. Instructions or comments were unnecessary and now cutting the vegetables, once again silence was the ideal mentor to transmit a pinch of such precious wisdom.

Once I had finished my tasks as a culinary assistant to the Tibetan monk who was hosting me, he collected the already washed and cut vegetables and began to cook them, maintaining the climate of silence and respect that had characterized the scene. After about twenty minutes frying the plants and cooking rice, he made a scream with which I suspected he was calling someone and a few seconds later his four-year-old son entered the room.

The monk served both the little one and me and once again sat down to observe us calmly. Every time we finished the food in our bowl, he automatically refilled it while his remained empty, and when we couldn’t eat any more because we were completely full, he finally got up and poured the leftover food into his bowl and started eating.

I have always defended that the most beautiful words in this world are those that do not need to be said, a theory that in this case was raised to its maximum exponent after having the privilege of attending a master class in humility, respect and values courtesy of a lama who shared his righteous wisdom without hesitation.

The Lama's son

The most beautiful words in this world are those that do not need to be said.

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Certera Lakes

On one of my last trips I visited Nepal to film and photograph meditation sessions in addition to extending my work visa for Thailand, the latter reason why due to a setback I finally had to extend my stay in the country of Buddha’s birth. Thus, after finishing my work with the meditation sessions in Kathmandu, it turned out that I suddenly had two extra days in the country, so without thinking twice and despite being twelve hours away by bus, I bagged my camera and I packed my backpack and headed to the mystical place that stars in one of the Heroes of Silence songs, the Lakes of Pokhara.

I was told that most tourists choose taxis as a means of transportation and others choose a high-end bus, but I, true to my style, traveled the way the locals do, which in this case was a dumpy bus. . I arrived at night after a travel odyssey along mountain roads and walked directly to the lake in order to be in position to fulfill the objective for which I had traveled to Pokhara: to photograph the lakes at sunrise and sunset from the best possible location.

As always, I put the responsibility of my task in the hands of local wisdom, asking several native inhabitants who agreed that without a doubt the best place to place my camera was the top of Mount Sarangkot, located on the edge of Lake Phewa. So, I found a cheap room in the last hostel on the street next to the lake bordering the base of the mountain and after sleeping for about four hours, at three in the morning I was already up to begin my challenge and try to reach the summit located at 1,700 meters high in time to photograph the lakes at dawn.

The locals had told me there was a way up, as well as provided some basic instructions. Even so, I also asked some truck drivers who were already awake at that time and they told me the direction I should follow to climb the mountain more or less peacefully along the path that led directly to the top.

However, it was totally dark, I only had the light of the cell phone that I borrowed for my work in Thailand and, as I started to climb the mountain, the path forked in several directions, so I followed my instinct, I chose one of them and I started to climb. After an hour of climbing with a medium difficulty in the dense darkness of the night, I began to realize that I was not climbing the path, as gradually the path became more complicated and the undergrowth became thicker and thicker. But it was too late to turn back, because if I did I wouldn’t reach the top in time to photograph the sunrise and that would mean losing my challenge with the mountain, so I continued climbing guided by my intuition and the faint light emanating from the stars. , as well as sometimes the cell phone light…which gradually ran out of battery.

Bloody hands after the night climb

The slope became steeper and the undergrowth turned into sharp brambles that trapped me, scratched me and made each step a real struggle. I was lost in the middle of the night in the middle of the mountain just guessing where the top was. My hands were bleeding, my energy was running out and the summit seemed to be further and further away. As if that were not enough, every time I stopped the undergrowth moved a few meters away from me, giving the impression that it could be some wild animal lurking. Thus, I began to delirious and conceive my challenge as if it were a metaphor for life turned into a lesson: when everything is darkness, the slightest ray of light can illuminate just enough to see the path; Sometimes one step back serves to take several steps forward in an accurate way; Every time you fall and get up you feel stronger but you are also closer to not having the strength to get up again, and, above all, what path is called everything that takes us to our destination.

I had already been climbing for three hours and a certain clarity was beginning to appear in the sky, warning that the sun was on its way to attend its daily appointment with the dawn. I no longer had any battery in my phone and I was climbing practically blind, fighting with my bare, bleeding hands to break down the walls of brambles that stood in my way. And every time I stopped, something shook suddenly in the undergrowth behind me… I was completely devastated, I thought I was totally lost, when finally the path cleared up giving way to a field of pine forests that I practically trot up out of excitement and after which I finally managed to see the top of the mountain, which was at a more than considerable distance, although the path was clear. Empty of strength, I was proud and arrived just a few minutes early to place my camera and save the energy necessary to press the shutter and photograph the lakes at dawn. Half the task was done, now we had to go down and photograph at sunset.

The climb was worth it, the sunrise over the Annapurna mountains was amazing

When descending, from the top and with the morning light, I clearly saw the path that the locals indicated and with which I would have gone much more peacefully, but it no longer mattered, my path had taken me to my destination on time, then It was equally valid.

While I was going down, I met two young Nepalese people who, seeing me covered in dirt and branches, bleeding and heartless, took me to their house to invite me to tea in the presence of their parents and grandmother. When they asked me what had happened to me and I showed them where I had gone up, they snorted and said that I was totally crazy, not only for going up in the dark on the most complicated side, but especially because on that certain mountain there was a tiger famous for annihilating animals. of the farmers.

When my face fell at the news, they insisted to me several times that it was not a very big tiger, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the bushes shaking a few meters away from me every time I stopped or fell to the ground. Was it the little tiger waiting for me to lower my arms and become easy prey? Any other much more harmless animal? Or the imagination of locals providing adrenaline to this adventure? There will never be a way to know, although my experience tells me that the locals usually know what they are saying.

A Nepalese family took pity on me

Last look at Mount Sarangkot, thanking you for the adventure

The day was spent trying to rest and regain some strength, although when I got into position to photograph the sunset, I was still completely devastated. Furthermore, I had hardly any money (I didn’t expect to spend three more days in the country, having to buy two bus tickets and pay for a night in a hostel) and I had hardly eaten. At that moment, a woman of about sixty years old appeared with a small sheet full of necklaces. After a couple of minutes trying to sell me her crafts and realizing that she was absent due to my condition, she started to ask me what had happened to me and we started talking and getting intimate. It turned out that she was a Tibetan woman who could not visit her family because China denied her the opportunity to return to her hometown. Thus, the woman, while she told me her personal story with anger and tears in her eyes, kept repeating often, “you know? China bullshit!” (You know, China is stupid!).

The lakes of La Certera at sunset

After listening to his story, I put my hand in my pocket and placed all the coins and bills I had on the floor, barely reaching four dollars. The woman, who when she arrived was asking me for twelve and fifteen dollars for her necklaces, gave me one of them, telling me that it was the only one that really came from Tibet, since she made it before she was deported. Tibet. We said goodbye with a hug and when she was gone, the woman retraced her steps and gave me a bag of nuts that she had in her backpack while saying the last words I would hear from her: “as a mother I want to think that my children are safe and sound, so I want your mother, who also has you away, to be calm that you are fed.”

Thus was born the promise to pay off my debt with that beautiful woman: I would go to Tibet to investigate and learn about the situation as well as fight for its people using the two most powerful weapons I know, my camera and the truth. It was there that my next adventure was forged, in Pokhara, photographing the Lakes of Certainty at sunset.

In the lakes of Certera my next documentary project was forged: Still Tibet

Update: Two years later, my documentary Still Tibet would be screened around the world, win the jury’s special mention award at the Bolivian Human Rights Festival, and is currently being broadcast on national American television.

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The true value of time

During my last project in which I led a group of twenty artists in an artistic meditation retreat in Thailand, in order for them to get the most out of the experience, I tried from the first moment to make them understand that ‘being here is not the same as being here. be present’. The Sun, a plant or even the sofa in your house ‘are there’, but they do not have the ability to use their consciousness to appreciate that moment; we do. We can continue going through life without life passing through us or begin to squeeze out every second appreciating the true value of time.

The true value of time

If at a specific moment we are linked to technology or even to other people’s thoughts, we will not be fully enjoying that moment, but only a percentage (Maybe 30-40%?). It may seem exaggerated, but since it is not an isolated situation, but rather a behavior that has become a way of life, that is the real percentage of present time that we are taking advantage of.

La añoranza de la juventud, nostalgia de un lugar o anhelo de la compañía de una persona, sentimientos que nos mantienen viviendo en el pasado, reviviendo situaciones que ya han tenido lugar. Puede sonar frío, pero desde el punto de vista práctico, pararse a echar de menos situaciones, lugares o personas, es un comportamiento nada constructivo que hace menos valioso nuestro tiempo presente, pues en lugar de estar viviendo este determinado instante, aprendiendo de las circunstancias que nos rodean y trabajando por construir situaciones o amistades bellas, estamos atascados en un momento pasado del que ya tuvimos ocasión de aprender en su día y del que indudablemente no vamos a conseguir cambiar nada.

Meditation trains consciousness

If we spend our days dreaming about something that is not within our reach, everything we do do will automatically seem to have less value. This situation leaves us with only two possible options: measure our dreams and aspirations according to our possibilities in order to collect results that satisfy and enrich us or simply pursue our dreams with everything, whatever they may be, but always being fully aware that not only It is possible that they will not be fulfilled, but it is probable. Therefore, we must be open to observing and learning along the way, so that not only do we evolve but our dreams do as well. The difference between goals and dreams is that the former are enjoyed only when achieving them, however dreams are something that are enjoyed while they happen, they are motivating and inspiring in themselves, making time more valuable during the process of living.

Not spending time with the people we love or losing friends or loved ones because of pride also influences the value of our time, because when we lose important people we are forced to look for new friendships and relationships, something that not only wears out but also wears us out. It makes you ‘waste’ time over and over again on the same task.

If we live with fear or shyness that prevents us from performing certain actions or saying certain things, again we are not living completely as we should, but rather we are letting situations pass only and exclusively by our choice. Feelings such as envy or resentment push us to develop emotions linked to hatred, as well as add burdens that prevent our progress naturally. All these factors act like ropes that, despite having elasticity, always keep us anchored to points in the past.

I often rethink my life, sometimes I fail and sometimes I shed a tear, but I never look back nor do I have the option to regret what I didn’t try, what I didn’t do, what I didn’t say. Maybe it will be the case that in the future my life will stagnate, but by then it will be too late to have wasted it, because I have learned the true value of time and that is why I enjoy every second of every day with all my passion and energy. as if it were the last at the same time with the illusion of as if it were the first.

There is a saying that dictates “life is not measured by the times you breathe, but by the moments that leave you breathless”, words with such poetic beauty that it is difficult to refute. However, I differ completely; I believe that life is measured in the moments we learn, the times we manage to raise a smile in a fellow human being and, above all, in the days we manage to be happy, savoring every second and being entirely ourselves.

Social networks 'steal' our time

Being here is not the same as being present.

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Why do we stop asking ourselves questions?

When we are little, it is the curiosity to learn and discover that pushes us to constantly ask anything that we do not understand, but it is also the case that when we are children we want to understand everything. That combination, curiosity and questions, is the perfect formula for learning. However, when we become adults in a certain way we believe that we know the basics and fundamentals when in reality if we maintained the interest in understanding the behavior of others we could surely learn from those around us in order to become a more tolerant human being. and understanding. That’s why I still can’t understand it, why do we stop asking ourselves questions?

Children use the ability to ask questions to always continue learning

Watching children you realize that they don’t take anything for granted; They touch, they play, they ask, in short, they discover. This behavior can happen only through the awareness of knowing that one does not know, and it is precisely that personal humility that predisposes one to continue learning and developing. However, when we grow up we need to assert our position and judgment in order to create a solid and credible image, without realizing that our firmness is doing a very disservice to our personal development.

When there is a misunderstanding or a compromised situation, the adult human being automatically tends to think that the other party is totally wrong and it is often even incredible to understand why that person has acted in that certain way, starting to judge and label them for their behavior. behavior. But what if we really put ourselves in their shoes? What if we began to ask ourselves questions until we try to understand the reasons that have pushed that person to act this way?

Each one is a different world, with its particularities and circumstances that are also seen in a totally subjective way depending on the individual judgment of the person, but it is often easier and faster to ignore these conditions, thus wasting not only an excellent opportunity to get closer to our affections by resolving conflicts dialectically, but a wonderful opportunity to learn about human behavior in the world around us.

Every day we witness ways of living that we do not understand a priori, from ways of dressing or speaking to variations in moods without, from our point of view, any apparent justified reason. The real question is whether we want to continue judging and labeling without further ado or do we take the initiative to stop and think and reflect in every uncomfortable situation. Children learn without peace because they have not yet developed a pride that prevents them from contemplating the option of being wrong, but life is long and offers us countless opportunities to continue growing and learning simply if we continue asking ourselves questions. Today what has made me stop to think and reflect is, why do we stop asking ourselves questions?