Forgive and Forget

This is a bit more of a raw post about it all, so expect some language. 

With our hike finished it was time to return to the modern world. This white van, seating about fifteen people, would be our transportation back. Besides the people, there were hiking bags for each individual, kitchen gear for the chefs who cooked for us, and as is typical in the countryside, three more guys standing up in the "aisle" that ran near the sliding door. 

With the inside loaded, and another mound of gear piled on top of the van, we took off. In general, the roads are rather awful. For almost the entire trip from start to finish, drop offs of several hundred feet would be visible out of the van. As each switchback was passed, the direction, right or left, of the drop off would change. And of course, the road was wide enough for one way traffic, even though the road went both ways. 

We drove uneventfully for some time until we came across a fresh landslide. There was a bulldozer and some men out clearing the landslide so that the road could be reconstructed and traffic could continue. We sat and watched for some time, unable to pass the bulldozer. 

As we sat, I began to contemplate the physics of the matter. If you've ever been out on a frozen pond, you'll know the safety advice of laying out flat if the ice should become questionable. This is because while standing, all of your weight only passes through two points, each of your feet. If you lay out flat, however, your weight is more widely dispersed and the chance of ice breaking is less and survival greater. We sat in the van and discussed such matters and decided it was best to walk around the bulldozer if it should come to that and let the van pass, without a heavy load, separately. Instead of four points, four wheels, bearing the load, it would be each individual walking separately, and the van just about empty. 

As we were coming to a conclusion however, the men working with the bulldozer signaled we could pass and so the van started forward. We began to talk more hurriedly and started shouting in English to our guide, and in Spanish to the driver, that we'd like to walk. Without consulting us the driver continued on, without a word of comfort or anything to let us know he knew what he was doing. 

I began to have a full on meltdown at this point. I was right near the back door and tried to unlock it and hop out but it wouldn't open. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I looked out the window and the tires were inches from the drop off. If the shoulder decided to give way at that point, it would have been death. Fuck fuck fuck. The lady to my left, I am unsure how, but motherly instincts kicked in, and she held me and calmed me and managed to bring me down from many fucks, to about two. (Thank you Belgian women wherever you are.) 

With a combination of all the metaphors in the world of time slowing down, and yada yada, we finally passed the curve. Various words were said, I managed to not curse out the driver for not considering our lives at all, and was only able to muster a "necesita escucharnos" (You need to listen to us) I spent the rest of the drive contemplating how Id make sure the driver lost his job and other horrible things directed at him. 

As we got out of the van at our destination, I got his name, picture, and licence plate so that I could make sure the trekking company knew how much of a terrible driver they had. But, I decided to give myself several days to contemplate how I would handle the situation. 

The next step in our tour was to head to a hot spring to relax (I know, shut up). And originally I decided against it, wanting to sit and have my own pity party but eventually I caved and went with the group. 

While there, sitting in the hot springs, unable to contemplate anything else besides my life flashing before my eyes, the words of Gandhi drifted into my head. As much as I wanted to hate and be angry and make sure the driver got what he deserved, "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind." And I hadn't even lost an eye. If I wrote the email, he could very well lose his job, his family on to the street, or worse. And I didn't want to be responsible for that. And so upon returning to where we were staying for the night, I tore up the paper with his name and license plate and deleted the pictures on my camera. 

While I can't say I've managed to forgive and forget just yet, I feel much better for having not tried to make the whole world blind.