The complicated desire to be lost

17 Aug 2017

I don’t typically go into situations hoping to get lost. On the contrary, most times I go into situations hoping for the exact opposite. But sometimes my expectations are crushed by the unrelenting Hulk Hammer of Reality, and I am left to deal with the confusing and unwanted pieces of debris.

2012

I was sitting by myself on a trolleybus in -10 °C weather in Mendoza, Argentina. I had a hand written note from my host mother, that explained in hurridly scrawled Spanish where to get off the bus. I had read it at least a dozen times over to ensure I would get home safely. It was my first full day in Argentina, 6,000 miles away from my home on Oahu, Hawaii. I wanted everything to go smoothly.

I observed quietly as the trolleybus left the city and entered the suburbs where it began to slowly empty itself. Local teenagers, city workers, and elderly people all took their turns. I confidently sat there towards the back of the trolley, listening carefully for any mention of my street name.

Suddenly, the trolley came to an abrupt and unpleasant halt. I stared incoherently at the bus driver as he got up, turned towards me, and started yelling some foreign words. It took me a good 10-15 seconds to finally realize that the trolley had reached the end of its route, and I was the only person left on board. I quickly strung together some Spanish words, attempting to let the driver know that I understood him, and I hopped off the trolley.

At some point, I had left the suburbs and entered an industrial area, with few buildings or people except the occasional run down automobile shop. Since it was my first day, I had no cellphone, so I couldn’t call my host family to pick me up or rely on good ole Google Maps to lead me home. With only a crumpled paper map and my own wisdom to guide me, I started trekking down the road, heading back where the trolley came from.

It was in the late afternoon, and the sun was starting to set. It was much colder than I’m used to, and I was alone in the middle of an industrial road in a foreign country, without any technology to rely on. I was more lost than I have ever been. And I remember thinking to myself how bizzare my situation was. And I was thrilled.

2016

It was 8 or 9 o clock at night, and my boyfriend and I had managed to find ourselves at a deserted bus stop in rural Sapporo, Hokkaido. We had been looking for an onsen to enjoy together, but the night didn’t go as planned. So we tried to take the bus back to the city, but for at least an hour, the promised bus didn’t come. There weren’t even any cars on the road. The only thing around was a few run down onsens and their elderly owners. We were also too far from the city to get any kind of phone or Internet connection. At this point, I also felt completely lost.

Just like in the industrial streets of Mendoza, I took a few mintues to take in the moment and marvel at how bizzare it was. This was not a situation I expected nor planned to be in.

Lost and Found

There is something exuberating about being completely lost, with not much more than yourself to rely on. In Mendoza, I walked for a mile or two, read some street signs, and eventually made it back home to my frantic and worried host mother. I told her not to worry, because everything was perfectly okay. In Sapporo, we eventually accepted that the bus wasn’t coming, and we went to a nearby nursing home to ask for some assistance. With very limited Japanese speaking and comprehension skills, we were able to get a taxi called for us, and we got back to the train station.

Being lost is an incredible feeling. Because it forces you to become extremely aware and emmersed in the current situation. No longer are you musing about what to eat for dinner or fretting about that stupid thing you said to a random stranger earlier. All five of your senses are completely in the moment, and you are using all your brain power to assess the situation. You need to harness all your internal energy to handle the situation in the best way you can. And once you are no longer lost, you feel so much more empowered and intune with yourself and whatever the world is offering around you.

What have I learned? Being lost is something you should strive for. Be lost in an unknown city. Be lost in a giant crowd. Be lost in the middle of a mountain range (within reason). When it comes to coding, there is a different feeling of satisfaction when I come across a problem that I instinctively know how to solve quickly, and when I come across a problem that makes me feel completely lost. The satisfaction that comes with conquering the latter one stays with you forever. It helps you to grow, rather than just feed your ego.

I learned that I like getting lost. And if I’m not lost, I need to try harder.