Mucho Gusto

In Spanish when you meet someone for the first time you generally say, “Mucho Gusto.”  I’m assuming it would translate into “much pleasure”.  Basically saying, “Meeting you, New Person, is pleasurable.”  You add pleasure to my life.  I like that idea.  One of the reasons I wanted to travel was to meet new people.  Inviting others into your life ultimately makes your own life larger, more faceted.   You grow, not only as you add a new dimension for each place you’ve visited, group of people you’ve met, or experience you’ve had, but the chance to acquaint yourself with someone unknown forces you to reflect on who you are as a person.  Having to retell your story means you have to reflect on what makes up that story in the first-place.

Given the nature of my life right now, I’ve had to meet and “acquaint,” or introduce myself a number of times.  Any time you invite the pleasure of adding someone to your world, you need to also add yourself to theirs.  Reinvention is an addictive behavior for some.  I suppose many “drifters” are people who long for the chance to reinvent themselves over and over, becoming smarter, stronger, and more successful along the way, as they rub off anything they dislike about themselves from the past.  It’s attractive to reinvent yourself, to start over, to clean the slate.  Gently shifting your personality, maybe your background, offers a remarkable opportunity to get a new “chance,” to be someone you’ve always wanted to be, or maybe just to try something different. I don’t think I ever intentionally reinvent myself when I meet new people, that’s not to say the thought isn’t somewhat alluring…. imagine coming up with a completely fabricated background for a few minutes during a chance encounter, never to see the person again.  Maybe it’s the fiction-lover in me, but I think creating a story sounds fun.  Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll ever have the guts to go through with it.  If anyone wants to try it sometime, I may be inclined to do it with a partner. My only degree of reinvention comes when I’m not one of ‘the twins” any longer.  I’ve gotten so used to being Heather’s sister, that when no one knows “Heather and Tracy”, when they just know Tracy, it’s strange.  Maybe that’s why I talk about her so much. 

Settling into my second day at the farm has gotten me thinking about meeting new people.  So far, everyone here has been incredibly gracious, the husband and wife who own the farm I’m staying on, the other WWOOF volunteer rooming with me, their extended family, the neighbors, and the other workers on the farm.  Obviously, much of our conversation is about introducing ourselves, getting to know one another, getting to know the community, welcoming us.  I find this experience, the third different community I’ve lived in the last two and a half months, causing me to once again tell the story of Tracy.  It just so happens that a beautiful, quiet, farm in the mountains of Puerto Rico is a great place to do it.

My roommate, Jennifer, and I began my coffee farming experience together on Wednesday.  Starting about 7:00 in the morning until about 12:30 in the afternoon, we picked coffee beans.  (Don’t worry I’m going to fill you in about the actual farm and what goes into making amazing coffee, but for now, maybe it’s the sound of the rain falling by my window, maybe it’s the “cookee” call of the frogs in distance, maybe it’s the warmth from the coffee in my mug, as I’m snuggled up in my bed, but I’m feeling contemplative right now.)  One thing you’ve probably figured out, picking coffee beans is not the most exciting job to do.  Except for the occasional high-flying-action-chase of a bean just not ready to be put into the basket, it’s very monotonous.  Monotony when you’re alone leads to self-reflection; monotony when you’re with a brand new person, a very friendly one at that, leads to introduction.  We got the chance to tell our stories, where we’ve been, where we want to go.

Each time I think about my life, I usually feel submerged by question marks.  What am I doing?  Where am I going?  Who’s coming with me?  Why? Why? Why?  But actually telling your own story to someone new, kind of helps remind you of the structure, the bones, that really do hold you together.  You’re not a jumbled, shapeless, mass of mess on the floor, but an interesting arrangement of likes, dislikes, passions, desires.  There really is form in my life, contrary to the disarray and over-packed suitcases. There is composition, arrangement.  It may look more like an abstract painting right now rather than a still-life, but it’s there none the less.

Much like this blog entry, sometimes I feel like my life is a rambling walk, no clear finish line, no landmarks, and maybe, compared to some other’s who neatly fit into our culture’s “life-mile-markers,” it is.  But one thing I’ve discovered on this trip is that I like my life…. I like my story….. I like introducing myself to others….. I like learning about me.  Maybe it’s strange, at thirty-three (ugh!), to finally, truly, like yourself, but I think the  actual joy comes when you do it with awareness, celebrate it, embrace it.  I like the person I am, I like meeting new people.  It really does give me “much pleasure” to invite them to peak at my insides, as I get a glimpse of theirs.  That gift is one thing that makes this trip, or life for that matter, beautiful.  My suggestion to you, faithful reader, go out there today and meet someone new…. Tell your story, listen to theirs.

I promise lots more coffee talk next time!