I have traveled the world endlessly like a free spirit for
years and even though I am in Canada right now I know I will be back on the
road less traveled again, hopefully sooner rather than later. The life of a vagabond isn't for everyone and on the Gringa Trail you will meet skeptics all the time.
The ones who are on vacation or just a gap year, a break before returning to the
real world, the ones who cannot believe this is my real world and I am not
running away from anything.
I tell myself this and I believe it. The truth is I may not
be running away from anything but I am leaving something behind; a childhood, adolescence
and the life I knew from my family and the society that I was brought up with.
Many travelers will not want to return after realizing how different the world
is and their perception of “the real world” quickly changes. Mine definitely
did.
I have mentioned this before in past posting but I grew up
in a medium sized city in the country. The number one radio station is Country
105. On country night at the bars beers are flowing and all you see is a sea of
plaid and jean. With this type of culture also comes closed minds, little
ambition, and in some cases racism. People have simple minds and live simple
lives. I was completely happy leaving all that behind. I actually had to
ambition returning and absolutely no ambition donning a plaid shirt, jeans and
cowboy boots to attend a country music festival.
That was until I was asked to volunteer for World vision at
the Boots and Hearts Music Festival in Bowmanville, Ontario. A new country music
festival set to bring Nashville to Canada. The organizer of the festival was a
guy I grew up with and his best friend also an alumni from my high school is
none other than the husband of country singer Carrie Underwood. Although we
still are not certain if it was her connections or the gleam from his perfect
smile, insanely handsome good looks and down to earth charm that brought the amazing
line up together, I am sticking with the latter.
Yes, even still I was reluctant to attend. Did I really want
to go back to my roots from whence I left? Did I really want to be surrounded
by drunks singing about their tractors? My friend who asked me to volunteer is
also an anomaly in her down home country village. Growing up her hippy parents
lived off the grid in a solar powered dome house that had no indoor plumbing
while the rest of the community was drinking in the legion and driving their
pickup trucks; so the good thing was I wasn’t going into this strange world
alone.
In the end I agreed to go. Maybe it was the sparkle shining upon me from the organizers pearly whites or perhaps it was because I am used
to being a tourist in other countries and figured I should try it out and be a
tourist in my country and what do you do when you are in Rome?
Just as you do at Boots and Hearts, I bought a blue plaid
shirt, jean shorts and wore my rubber boots.
She's
gone country, look at them boots
She's gone country, back to her roots
She's gone country, a new kind of suit
She's gone country, here she comes (Alan Jackson)
She's gone country, back to her roots
She's gone country, a new kind of suit
She's gone country, here she comes (Alan Jackson)
To be continued…
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