In the air again......
Flew from Milan, Italy, to Hahn airport in Germany(an hour and a half away from Frankfurt) arriving exhausted in Frankfurt at 2:30 am. I walked from the train station to my hostel, Frankfurt Hostel, which was less than 5 minutes away. All of the next day was spent at the Buddhist monastery, Pagoda Phat Hue (this is where I would spend most of my first week in Frankfurt). The following day(Wed?) I walked to the Palm Garden through a beautiful neighborhood of peace, quiet and tree lined streets--an excursion I highly recommend. The nearby apartments in this lovely neighborhood resembled sorority houses, perfectly maintained brownstones and government style buildings complete with lions protecting the archways. I was loving it and imagining exchanging my shared hostel room for one of these beautiful, expensive properties. I was also wishing i knew how to ride a bike like everyone who passed me by. Bikes, BMW's and Mercedes were all that existed in that neighborhood. Spent the day at the Palm Garden and park, meditating and enjoying the sun. Did not return to my neighborhood till about 7:30pm.
This means, I was so distracted by gardens, monasteries and pretty houses that I did not realize what exactly my own ummmhmmmm..."neighborhood" consisted of untill two days after being there, although now I WONDER how i managed to miss it. For starters my hostel was situated directly between a kebab cafe and a sex shop. Let me clarify when i say SEX STORE, this was not your average rinky-dink hidden corner shop but this was "SEX WORLD" with live shows, fluorescent lights and 3 very large floors. I walked around to grab food and this is when i began to really notice my neighborhood and its inhabitants. The street "employees" were already out before 8 pm. These consisted of transvestites, girls so young and skinny offering their services and groups of hookers holding hands with their pimps. Was a little shocking to say the least but it would make since being that exactly one block away was Frankfurt's infamous red light district. It was here where i learned the origin of the term "Red Light." There are actually large red flashing lights, lamps and fluorescent red hearts to signify that these places are brothels. What was so crazy to me is that I had no idea!! I made my friend drive me around my newly realized neighborhood twice.
Back at my hostel I met a lot of fellow Mexican travelers including two really sweet young girls from Monterrey, Mexico who actually know my cousin in Linares.
I officially ran out of money in Milan but luckily the hostel allowed me to work in exchange for accomodation: I translated flyers and menus into Spanish and passed out flyers at the train station to largely uninterested passer-by's. Every local asked me why I was in Frankfurt for so long but I really enjoyed my stay. People at the hostel were friendly, the Sanga(monks and nuns) at the Monastery were wonderful and i was able to relax and read a lot. Funny cause my skin was broken out horribly, i was broke and my clothes were the same as before when i was bitching about them but somehow it was such a wonderful peaceful experience for me. With only 4 weeks left of my trip before i head back to the U.S, I am trying to make the most of it. That said, feel like i am on autopilot, sort of traveling through a black void with no idea what or where next. Not scared as to what that will be, just curious. The abbot equated me to the wind saying that i just kind of am, no one knows where i will end up next(nor do i)but that my presence is definitely felt and that it will all work out in the end, that eventually i will land somewhere.
To attest to the truth of that statement, I write this post in Brussels, Belgium where i have had 2 wonderful days sightseeing, visiting a Flemish castle and eating way too much chocolate and beyond what should be a daily limit of sticky, doughy, delicious Belgium waffles and. After only two days in Belgium, and nearly five pounds heavier, I am headed on a night train to Berlin just in time or else I may not fit into my one pair of (very dirty) jeans if i were to stay here longer.
I have come to realize that despite all my experience of living and traveling it is still hard for me to say goodbye. On Thursday I was at the monastery one last time and one of the young monks there asked me, by my first name, if i wanted to help set up for lunch. I informed him i was unable to because i had a train to catch to Berlin. I was already sad to leave but the experience just reinforced these feelings because it demonstrated that after a week of hanging out daily at Pagoda Phat Hue: meditating, crying, going to picnics and playing frisbee, that i was finally a part of. Just the night prior, after spending six hours at the monastery I was having a wonderful time helping the monks and nuns wash and put away the dishes after our lovely vegetarian meal. It felt nice to be useful as well as to just laugh and hang out. But i had to say goodbye that day. And today in Brussels I said it again, to my friends at the train station. I will see them again in NY but after 2 days of getting driven around the city by my Belgium host Eric, I must say goodbye to what I know and go to a city where i am forced to start all over again. Sometimes the "starting over" is new and exciting, at other times I find it lonely, exhausting and terrifying. As a result, sometimes I just end up isolating, on this trip more times than at other times. But the last 10 days I really felt like I belonged; it was so wonderful. So i am sad to say goodbye but once again grateful for the experiences had and the wonderful people I am meeting.
Later, off to Berlin now.
http://www.phathue.com/
http://www.palmengarten-frankfurt.de/englisch/englisch.htm
http://www.frankfurt-hostel.com/en/default.asp
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7nifGlOeBg
