Getting here...

Perhaps my feelings are somewhat anachronistic, but I can't suppress that special sense of adventure and excitement that I get when I head west. Somehow the "west" remains in my mind a frontier to be explored, a vast land that evokes that pioneer spirit of centuries ago. Of course, upon arrival in the city of Vancouver such feelings are quickly overwhelmed by those well known emotions that arise every time I find myself in a busy metropolitan.

Visiting this city with an open mind, one can easily sympathize with those segments of society that so ardently protested the billions of dollars spent on the Olympic games here. Homeless people abound in this seemingly luxurious city - it is a place of stark contrasts. The bedraggled man pushing his shopping cart of plastic bottles past the latte sipping professional in her designer jacket serves as a reminder of the ever present disparity in this rich nation of ours. The pockets of lush green coastal wilderness interspersed between skyscrapers and condominiums speaks to our tendency to make nature conform to us, not the other way around. Captain George Vancouver wrote so many years ago of British Columbia:

"To describe the beauties of this region, will, on some future occasion be a grateful task to the pen of a skillful panegyrist. The serenity of the climate, the innumerable pleasing landscapes, and the abundant fertility that nature put forth, require only to be enriched by the industry of man with villages, mansions, cottages and other buildings, to render it the most lovely country that can be imagined."

Needless to say, his desires have certainly been realized. I am grateful to have this beautiful land to live in, but I can't help question at what cost it has been developed. Driving along the highways that wind through ancient growth forests, you see in the distance huge swaths of trees clear cut for this "industry of man" as Captain Vancouver put it. First Nations peoples are quite visible here, which at first glance seems positive, but perhaps this visibility is a result of forced assimilation after having their lands stolen or poisoned, and their ways of life bulldozed over literally. I'm not sure how to reconcile these thoughts, knowing that I take advantage of this "industry of man" like any other here, but I suppose awareness and appreciation are important first steps.

I arrived at my final destination, the town of Tofino on the western extreme of Vancouver island, late in the day. Starting from Toronto I had taken a plane; a train; a bus; a boat; and finally a car all in the same day. Despite this making for an interesting trip, it was admittedly easy and uneventful. Just being here however, has stirred in me nostalgia for my last adventure out west, when me and my friend Tristan made our way across Canada by foot and thumb to arrive in Tofino for a summer of discovery and disaster, of laughter and despair. I remember vividly standing in the cold rain at the side of the highway north of Toronto, wondering how we were ever going to make it all the way across this vast country. I remember Tristan and I taking turns sleeping in the back of one of the several trucks that happened to pick us up, while the other entertained the lonely soul behind the wheel. I remember trying to sleep in an emergency stairwell in a residential building of a small town, lying cold and damp, thinking about how someday I would write about this. Finally we arrived in Tofino and the summer unfolded to set us upon our respective paths.

Now here I am again, in this place that has played a big part in shaping the person that I am today, and I'm not quite sure what to feel. Although getting here was not quite as adventurous as I had hoped, I'm glad to be here, but something about this place feels so much different than I remember it. It is cold and rainy as I write this, every few hours the wind begins to blow hard and the overcast skies open up to unleash a torrent of rain that rattles the structure that shelters me. The town seems barren, the thousands of summer migrants having not yet arrived. The ocean is churning and the waves crashing, it is angrier than I ever remember it from my former days here. This is the true Tofino I suppose, the Tofino felt for eight months of the year. The rugged, stormy, unrelenting Tofino. I think I like it.

The Next Chapter...

This post may come as somewhat of a surprise considering my previous conclusion, but having spent some time back in Canada I've come to the realization that I have the need to express myself in writing, and that I have a burning desire to continue to share my thoughts and observations. Seeing that I already have your attention with this blog that I started in Central America, I've decided to continue writing here, albeit with a commensurate change of focus suited to my new found geographical circumstances. And so I present The Truth Global - the continuance of my writings as I advance along my increasingly peripatetic lifestyle.

The name of this blog, as can be determined from previous postings, has been a slight source of distress for me as both a writer and a traveler. People are constantly questioning me, who are you to call your blog the truth? Who are you to comment on your surroundings and the state of this world and to admonish North Americans about their life choices and then label such comments as "the truth"? Then I remembered why I decided to call my blog the truth and I began to write this post. People have told me that I'm very brave for doing the things that I've done, for choosing uncertainty and freedom over structure and stability. What has taken the most courage for me however, has been to put my inner thoughts to paper and to share them with the world. It is a feeling of nakedness and exposure that can be both gratifying and terrifying at the same moment; it is a feeling of vulnerability that any writer can relate to. So for anyone who is wondering, I would like to reiterate the essence of this blog and explain the meaning behind the name.
This blog is an exposition of self that I have attempted to balance with a level of humility. It is a rebuke of sorts against a lifestyle that I believe leads to intolerance and to parochial views of life and this world. While at the same time it is a celebration of life and of this world, and a testament to those living the free floating lifestyle that promises liberty like no other. This blog is a reminder of how fortunate we are to come from a rich part of the world and a warning against the common abuse of this fortune. It is an example of how easy it actually is to move past the traditional constraints of capitalist consumer society and to set yourself free. Most importantly though, I am writing this blog as a form of honest self-expression, as a way to manifest my thoughts to those who will listen, and to hopefully influence such people positively. Finally, I want people to read my work, and a title like "the truth" certainly induces curiosity.

I've spent the last two months in between Toronto and Montreal, enjoying the company of loved ones and experiencing the full wrath of the Canadian winter. I've been able to abate my desire for excitement through various activities, from drunken GT Snow Racing derbies in the Quebec countryside, to long nights of laughter with old friends in the deep suburbs of Scarborough. The beckoning of the road is unrelenting however, for those who know its call. An opportunity has arisen in the distant lands of British Columbia, in a small town at the end of the road. Beautiful beaches and powerful waves await me on the great Northern Pacific coast, and so in earnest I pack my wetsuit and guitar, throw my few possessions into a sack and hit the road yet again.

Al final, por ahora...

Life on the road certainly takes a toll on the mind and the body, but it is a fatigue like any other, where the initial down is a necessary sacrifice in order to achieve the overall improvement that will be provided in the long run. I feel this way often while I’m traveling, perhaps like I’m exercising my soul, a tiresome exercise that heightens my perspective and expands my self-awareness; an exercise in wisdom and worldliness.

It would be hard to say I’ve been traveling over the last while, as I’ve been situated in the same place for about two months. But today traveling describes a lifestyle and a state of being rather than necessarily the physical act itself. It describes the state of being in a new and different place, and experiencing new and different things; it describes a disposition of open mindedness. By that definition of travel, it is something I intend to continue with for the rest of my life.

My stay in El Salvador was exactly how I wanted to finish this leg of my ever lasting journey. It was my third time coming back to this special land, and as I arrived two months ago on a bus from Honduras I immediately felt settled and at home.

I stayed with a family that I have come to know very well here in El Salvador, so much so that I call the lady of the home “Madre” or mother. Such is the nature of things in El Salvador where close friends are treated like family and strangers like friends.

Christmas, for a second year in a row, was signaled once again by a pumping swell bearing epic gifts of huge drop-ins and perfect faces. We frolicked in the water for hours catching wave after wave, like children back home playing in the snow.

New Years was passed on the beach with many drinks raised in the air and many songs danced to, all of this shared with special people from different corners of the globe.

I’m on my way back to Canada now, undoubtedly a changed person from the one I was so long ago when I first hit the road, and with the excited anticipation of the many more changes that will surely unfold before and within me.

I’m sure I’ll be back to Central America sooner than later, and it will always hold a special place inside me. This leg of my life long journey is now over though, and as such so too will end my postings on this page. Sharing my thoughts and experiences has been incredible in itself, and I thank everyone who took the time and patience to follow me. Just as I hope for my writings to inspire, I am equally inspired by those who read them. I maintain my conviction that travel is a powerful force of balance in this often antagonistic world, and that the more people that travel, the more people there are to spread the positive message of harmony, solidarity, and peace.

Gracias a todo que he conocido en el camino, soy un parte de cada uno de ustedes.

Anthony William Persaud

2010-02-26