Shadow and I

To love something truly is to appreciate its essence, not its appearance.

Don't sorrow if petals scatter; their essence is forever in our hearts.

I woke up in the immigrant shelter's bed and realized I'd slept for nearly 13 hours. Fully rested, it became clear to me that I would have to move on. Stepping out into the cool morning air, I went to a bench overlooking the sea to have a breakfast. Taking out the bread and ham from my backpack, I found telltale signs of rats nibbling on them. "So that's what the rustling was last night," I thought, throwing the food away in disappointment.

As I meandered along the shore, I recognized an older man from the group of homeless people I'd met yesterday. He recognized me, too. We talked about my stolen bicycle. I told him that the journey must go on, albeit on foot. He asked if I knew karate. "In Korea, it's Taekwondo," I replied. He warned me about potential dangers and advised me always to be cautious. Before parting, he said, "Those bad people might come after your other belongings next." Concerned about my safety, I slid the knife - which I'd bought to cut the bread - into my right pant pocket: Bike was already gone, but I'd defend myself if it came to that.

Returning to the shelter, I began to lighten my load. I had accumulated quite a collection of clothes and carrying all of them on foot wasn't feasible. I gifted two shirts and one T-shirt to my Uruguayan roommate. Discarding a spare bike tire and a damp, foul-smelling T-shirt further reduced my burden. All my belongings could now fit into a single backpack. I said goodbye to my roommates, and one of them mentioned a possible job at a logistics company. While tempting, continuing my journey seemed paramount. He wished me luck as I ventured out.

I understand that having a goal is valuable as it motivates us to take steps towards it, even more than achieving it. Today, I have set a new goal formed in my mind: I'll walk to the Brazilian border. This fresh goal filled me with renewed hope. The journey on foot would present its unique joys.

Following the coast, I walked without a particular plan---no need to consult milestones or ask for directions. During my stroll, a massive billboard caught my attention. It read, "Keep Walking," an advertisement for Johnny Walker. I took it as a blessing on this trip on foot.

Time seemed to fly, and the bustling city roads transitioned into serene countryside paths. My elongated shadow felt like a constant companion. The solitude felt different from bike trip: no honking cars cheering me on, no groups of motorbikers waving in support. However, walking offered a newfound freedom. I set my own pace, stopping to admire the scenery and resting whenever I pleased. As the sun began its descent, I reached a small village just in time. I purchased two baguettes and 200 grams of ham at the local supermarket which would be enough sustenance till the next day. "I should buy a tomato tomorrow," I am aiming for a balanced meal.