Hunger For Life

By Ophelie Simon

Have you ever had a wild dream that you wanted to fulfill badly? However, resistance was your biggest enemy. You may have even talked yourself out of it. People thought you were crazy, but somehow inside of you it all made sense?

 

This is what happened to Erica. Erica's life flipped upside down and was confronted with her existential crisis, huge familial struggles, issues to dream and lack of her own identity. She decided to explore the world and find herself in a quest of discoveries, full of unexpected adventures in South America. She planned to backpack the whole continent for nearly two years. She didn't pay attention to what people thought about her. She wanted to see what happiness and joy looked like. Those two words were foreign to her for too long. It was time to put a full stop to "life" as she had been told to live it and discover her own. How would she survive in this wild continent on her own with only a tent and a sleeping bag, with no money and no people she knew? The rate of rapes and sequestration at that time was quite high, however was it the real truth? Would she make it? Would she give up? Would she be in bad situations? Would she find her happiness or her worth?

 

This is based on a true story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LakeView Publications
• Release date: Oct 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215859018

Ophelie Simon

Ophelie Simon was born and raised in Brussels, Belgium. She traveled to America to do her senior high school year as an exchange student at 17 years old where her vision to see possibilities unfolded. She obtained two masters in visual communication and Public relations in Europe (Brussels and Barcelona), and decided to backpack around South America for two years on her own to discover herself and her aim in life. Today, she has traveled over 30 countries and is now multilingual. She is a filmmaker and entrepreneur. Studying is her life lesson. She loves theory and gives space for experiences.

Book preview

Hunger For Life

A Passage to Bloom

Ophelie Simon

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LakeView Publications

Copyright © 2022 by Ophelie Simon

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Published by Lakeview Publications

Cover by Bobby Barnhill

Edited by Taylor Kelliher

Formatted by Craig A. Price

Contents

Dedication

1. Time Change

2. Jet Lag and Layovers

3. Sharing the Row

4. Turbulence

5. On the Ground

6. All Who Wander…

7. Where the Compass Leads

8. Travel Companions

9. Mountains and Valleys

10. Expectations vs. Reality

11. Wayside Inns

12. Familiar Faces

13. Strangers

14. Rendezvous

15. North and South

16. Forks in the Road

17. Grounded

18. Sight-seeing

19. Autopilot

20. One Engine Burning

21. Seasons Changing

22. Dead-End Road

23. A New Direction

24. Passing Through

25. Landing Gear

Epilogue

Special Thanks

About Ophelie Simon

About LakeView Publications

Lakeview Publications

To all of the people who are looking for answers and are on a self-discovery journey, I am dedicating this book to you all, because it represents a journey of a lost one looking for answers. I’ve done a lot of things in my life but nothing never satisfied me fully.

Sometimes, the hardest thing is the process for wholeness and responses. I want to say to all of you that I am with you in that and you will find your answers as I found mine. To all of you, being vulnerable and seeing patterns coming to the light is actually healthy. That’s where solution and systems can come in. I would like to also dedicate to my grandma, Mamy A, for all your encouragement that you gave me to step into writing. You always wanted to visit South America and here is a little glimpse of it. Despite my two faces at times (of being an angel and being a wild one), you called me higher and loved me whatever what.

You’ve always tried to understand me and not judge me even if it wasn’t easy. I know I shared with you only certain part of my life. I didn’t want you to see me in a different light with all my little secrets out. Somehow I was ashamed of myself. Even when you noticed a bit of my craziness behind the curtains, you encouraged me and loved my personality. We were both sharing the same passion to travel and discovering new cultures. Our moments together while flipping the photo albums were precious to me. You always had new trips to show me.

Thank you for your time and for cultivating my desire to see the world and to make it possible despite your wishes for me to stay in the country. You pushed me to go and live my life even if you were a bit scared for me or just didn’t know when will be the next time you would see me. It could be weeks, months or years. This book is dedicated to you, Mamy because you helped me without knowing to chase my dreams and to go after what my heart was leaping for. You were and will be forever an inspiration to me. Thank you Mamy. To all of you, I know you find your answers soon as when you search you find it.

Chapter one

Time Change

Have you ever woken up in the morning totally confused about how you ended up in that moment? Well, welcome to my life! I opened my eyes, swollen, red…I couldn’t remember what had happened the night before.

A flashback hit me from when I was living in Barcelona. That morning, I wished I didn’t get up at all. I could feel the pain in my chest, the hurt in my heart, my eyes watering once again with tears. That was my life for four months. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so alone in a world so full of people—those I thought of as friends were always buzzing around me like bees…I’d felt like the queen at times. At the very least, I was a fellow worker bee. Now I felt isolated and lonely. I thought I had friends, but very quickly I realized that the ones I called friends were just acquaintances. When you really need support, that’s when you know your real friends.

I had just returned from Belgium, already an intense trip, when my friend Sophie (who was one of my best friends at that time) told me that we were being evicted. The owner wanted us out. Apparently, some rent money was missing—Sophie or our housemate Bree hadn’t paid their rent. We had to be out of the apartment that night. I was so mad at her and asked why she hadn’t told me when I was back home in Belgium. She wouldn’t respond to my questions. I asked if she found a place for us to stay.

Sophie said Well, I’m going to stay at my boyfriend’s place. I couldn’t believe her selfishness. That apartment was one of the smallest in Barcelona. There would have been no space for me.

I asked, Can I at least leave my bags there? She said she barely had room for herself and her own things. The case was closed. I responded like I always did—I thought, that’s fine. I’ll find something else on my own terms, in my own way, without involving a man. I couldn’t believe she would do this to me. Loyalty and sticking together were non-negotiables in friendship. Apparently, not everyone feels the same.

I took things into my own hands and started asking all my friends who I had made in Barcelona the last year. I thought that surely one of my friends would welcome me under their roof, to help out a girl in distress. However, one message after another came with no response. Or an excuse about why they could not host…I mean, really? I knew more than 30 people that I thought I could trust. Nothing was working as planned. Time passed and I was sending hundreds of messages out to people I barely knew. No answers. Even from all my classmates. My previous confidence was turning to doubt in myself and my friendships. Reflecting on my past year, I realized that all those connections I had made were dust in the air. All those excited, unified parties, all the laughter, dinners, challenges—all fake.

I thought to myself, was I fake too? Did I leave the impression to others that everything we were doing was part of a game? Was I that blind, was I insensitive to what was happening around me? Before I could even analyze my thoughts, tears started rolling down my cheeks. I had been holding it all together, and now a pond was literally forming under the bench. It was a beautiful day—sunny, blue sky, not one cloud on the horizon. Just a gorgeous day in Barcelona like I had come to know. But on that specific day, I couldn’t rejoice; I couldn’t see the beauty in the scenery. I just saw everything for what it was: a busy city full of noises and people screaming from one street to another. The hustlers were ready to talk your head off to sell you anything. People walking fast to make sure no pickpockets had time to grab their bag. Others were singing and chanting which drove me crazy. Many looked down while they hurried, sending the message Please don’t look at me.

I had begun to put down roots in Barcelona—parties, laughter, hurt, pain, loneliness, joy…I never thought it would end up like this. In the middle of the city at evening time, I was still on the same bench crying and realizing how little I had accomplished in friendships. Sophie didn’t even bother sending me a message to see how I was doing. She was as stressed as I was. Friends all sent me the same message: I’m so sorry but I can’t help you out. Good luck, I hope you find a place. The words hurt.

I always considered myself strong, but at that moment I felt so weak, hopeless, stupid, and lonely. I was trying to look at my options, but didn’t really want to tell my parents that I had nowhere to stay. I was so ashamed of it. All the hostels were full. I hadn’t planned early enough to get a spot. The whole world was against me! I was in despair. I came up with the idea to leave my bags in a hostel to be safe, and would find a place to sleep somewhere else. At 11:00pm, I was quite tired. All my tears had dried out my energy. I felt like a river out of water. I was numb and sad. I found a bench close to the beach with a street light next to it, to not be immersed in darkness. I covered myself with my big jumper and used my backpack as a pillow. I hoped for the best. I was a bit afraid of homeless people passing by, thieves, or drunk people; but at that moment, if I was honest, I didn’t really care. I thought at least they would give me some company.

I was barely able to sleep because it was so uncomfortable, and my mind was tormented. During the night, I heard some voices laughing at me because I was sleeping on a bench. They were saying Poor girl has nowhere to stay. I wanted to scream Keep your pity for yourself! Rather than criticizing me you could help me out. But instead, this feeling came over me: I knew it very well—anger. I was angry at my best friend for betraying me. I was angry at all my other friends who abandoned me. I hated humanity, hated this world and everything in it. I cried myself to sleep and slept for a few hours.

Strangely, when I woke up in the morning, the sun was gentle on my face. I totally forgot where I was, but when I remembered, I couldn’t believe that nothing had happened during the night. No one had bothered me or robbed me. Maybe because I had nothing left to take.

On that day, I realized that I needed to believe for something bigger for my life. I couldn’t stop living because my friends failed me or because my plans didn’t work out. I knew that this moment was the perfect time to fly away and live my own life.

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I was scared. I realized I had no friends, or almost none, and didn’t know if I had it in me to wander around alone. I thought of going back home to Belgium—but that really wasn’t an option. My parents were getting a divorce after years of dysfunction. I’d never felt truly at home under their roof, where fighting and tension was the norm. I didn’t have a strong relationship with my sisters either, so I wasn’t even sure if Belgium was home.

I decided I needed to find someone to travel with me, and my first thought was Sophie. I worked up the courage to talk to her, and we made amends. I never told her about sleeping on the street, and said that I was staying at a friend’s house. I was too embarrassed.

While talking with her, I had the idea to go to the Canary Islands for the summer—two months abroad in a Spanish speaking community that have a real holiday vibe. It was the perfect place to get a job in a hotel or a bar, making money and having fun at the same time. She agreed to go, as she was trying to make summer plans and hadn’t come up with anything yet.

I was getting excited about the idea, and researched a lot about the different islands. I wasn’t sure if it was better to go to Gran Canaria, Lanzarote, or Tenerife. They all had their own interesting characteristics. I just wanted to work and be a tourist. Finally, Sophie and I decided on Tenerife. That’s it! Here we come, Tenerife! Let’s get started!!! The pictures looked amazing and it’s a big enough island to explore. The south part of the island was the most tourist-friendly. I was looking at some rental options; however, as I knew nothing about it, I joined Couchsurfing.com. The site helps you connect with locals offering up their home/couch, and they can show you around, give you tips about the culture, and help you find a place to rent. It seemed so appealing. I got excited. This is it, I thought. My summer is going to be out of this world. No more sleeping on the street bench, alone without purpose—my destiny is waiting for me in Tenerife. My hopes were up once again. I felt like my heart was starting to unbury itself and come out of the darkness.

Until…

Sophie and I took the train to our last class before graduation. We had to do some administration stuff to make sure we could graduate. In the train, Sophie looked weird and was not talking much when I was sharing all the information I’d found about Tenerife. She seemed almost indifferent. I finally asked her what was going on. That’s when she told me she was not going to join me on the trip. I was devastated once again. Why wouldn’t she? She said it was a money issue. She was preoccupied about money; her dad wasn’t sending her more money, and she wanted to find a job in Barcelona. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was holding back tears. I tried to compose myself, and said that it wasn’t a big deal. She encouraged me to go on my own. I was petrified at that idea. Go alone? I could barely handle the fact that I was sleeping on a street bench. The thought of traveling on my own to an unknown country scared the heck out of me. Who would I talk to? Would I tell people that I am alone?

My heart started to sink again. I had so much anxiety. My body couldn’t cope with it. I was lying to myself, telling myself that I was strong and fine.

The day of graduation came along and, like I’ve always done, I faked it. I pretended that everything was fine, I was the happiest person on earth that day, getting my degree. After all, that’s why I was in Barcelona. Even after being handed my diploma, receiving compliments and encouragements, I still felt so empty. It didn’t bring me as much joy as I thought it would. I was there without being there. My heart and soul hurt. Sophie was having the time of her life, and I was watching her taking pictures with everyone else but me. It hurt me even more. I felt more alone, more dead inside, more furious at the world, and angry at myself for trusting her again.

I left the graduation party. I should have been so happy, so joyful about finishing the year. But for some reason, I couldn’t stop weeping. I was literally in the street sobbing. People were stopping me, asking if someone had died. I felt so ashamed and embarrassed that I would just nod and keep walking. Someone did die. It was me. I’d had enough of this life, enough of fighting, enough of hoping for the best, enough of searching for better answers. I was done. I started to build up a shell that would keep everyone out; it would keep me safe. At that moment, I thought about ending my life. But something inside of me prevented me—I didn’t want to be a coward. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I knew I was made for something bigger. It was the longest walk I have ever been on.

That same night, a guy from couchsurfing.com in Tenerife told me that I could stay at his place for as long as needed until I found a place. I thought to myself, here I am alone and not doing anything…maybe in Tenerife they need my skills, and I could find a job and an apartment for a few months. The next day, I booked my flight, determined to change my life. I imagined myself breathing the fresh air while flying. Everything would be new. I packed all my bags and went.

Chapter two

Jet Lag and Layovers

Just as is mentioned in all the travel books, Tenerife was gorgeous. The landscapes were beautiful, the volcanos were stunning, and the ocean was perfect. The only downside was the roads. Bus drivers were driving like fools without heads on those mountain roads right next to cliffs. I thought I was going to die five times from the airport to my location. I could barely breathe. Drivers were honking as they came up to a turn in the road to announce their arrival. If you forgot to do so, you’re dead. Only one car could fit on those narrow roads.

After several panic attacks, I finally met my host John, a nice Canarian dude. He was so sweet, showing me the surroundings in his free time. The rest of the day I would explore on my own and try to find an apartment. Each day I was becoming more and more comfortable traveling on my own. John really helped me with it. After one week, I found a little apartment to share with two men in an area recommended by John. One was an older man, Victor, who was a casino fanatic, and the other was a young Italian surfer named Daniel. It felt good to have my own room and I had hope I could start my life again.

For the next two weeks, I looked for a job everywhere but with no success. Either they weren’t hiring or I didn’t have the skillset they needed. I was getting tired and hopeless once again. I hadn’t made any friends yet as I was so busy walking from hotels to bars to restaurants to find work. My best transport was my feet, always trustworthy and always with me. I felt like a tired squirrel looking for its acorn everywhere. My head was on a swivel. Despite the energy squirrels have, I was not jumping from branch to branch anymore. I was at the end of my rope.

But after I’d been in Tenerife two weeks, I received an email saying that I got some money from my previous employer. I couldn’t believe it! Finally, an answer from the sky. With the small amount I would receive, I didn’t really need to work. I took it as a sign for me to relax and enjoy myself rather than burning out. I needed some self-love time after all that had happened.

I joined a boxing club that was next to my house. I was wanting to lose weight and become stronger…so I took it as a challenge. Four times a week I would train with the owner and his team. I always thought boxing was for men, as they are stronger and more muscular than women—but I was wrong. My hesitations vanished as I realized how much I loved it! The people at the club were super healthy. They were competing at high levels, so they had to be serious about training. It was exhausting, but I loved it, maybe because it felt like I was fighting for my life. I needed something to look forward to that made me feel alive. I needed a resurrection of some sort. At that moment, boxing was a sort of answer. One of my trainers said to me, Erica, you look like an angel, but you actually know how to fight and defend yourself. You are one of those crazy ones. I laughed, but he was right. Never let the appearance of a little girl deceive you. She can have a lion inside of her.

I wanted to keep making friends, as I’m a social butterfly. So, I joined a salsa bachata club at night. I met lots of interesting people there, but they were not exactly friends. When you are alone and don’t really know who you are, you attract similar people. Starved for community, I would go to bars on my own and would meet people. These were random acquaintances or hook-ups for the night, which didn’t help me feel better but at least distracted me and made me feel like I had some sort of control over my life.

At the salsa class, I met a Spanish man named Patrick. He invited me to see the whales on his boat. I was so excited, because it was a dream of mine and I’d never had the opportunity to see some. Excited, I met him on his boat, and we left the dock. I felt so alive to be on the ocean and grateful to be doing something exciting. We sailed pretty far out, and finally saw a couple of whales. My heart lit up! Seeing these powerful and beautiful creatures in the wild…it was stunning. I felt like I was in another world. I loved it. The sky started to darken, and we had to head back to port. However, before we started our way back, Patrick approached me and said, What about a little dance? I felt intimidated when he asked me that, because he was so much older, and I felt like he wanted something else that I didn’t want to give.

I felt my heart racing like never before. I thought to myself, why did you go out alone with a man that you barely know? I started panicking when he poured me some wine in a glass. My mind was analyzing the whole thing. Of course, he would love for me to get drunk. Heck no! I thought, I’m not that dumb. However, I was still alone in the middle of the sea with no one else around except the fish and the shark—Patrick. It felt like a horror movie playing out in the front of my eyes. I was looking around to see what I could reach out to if he started to do something inappropriate. But the boat was quite small, and the music was quite loud, so no one could hear me scream if I had to. There was no way out. I tried to flirt some to make sure he would not be upset; otherwise, I would be like a fly in a spider web. I remembered watching an interview about sexual predators—if the prey screams, it gives them more adrenaline and they won’t let you go.

So I tried my best to distract by saying, At shore, there is less wind and it’s not as shaky…we could dance better. He came closer to me and pulled me way too close for my comfort. I forced a smile, but then said, No. I don’t want you to grab me this way. It’s way too intense.

He laughed, and said Isn’t this why you like to dance?

I felt so gross. I dance because I forget everything around me and it’s one of my only escapes from my mind. I feel free and enjoy the freedom of the music. There is no sexual desire whatsoever. Now I understood that not everyone has the same motives or interests at the dance clubs. I started beating myself up right then and there because I knew what could happen. I should have listened to my gut. Something was off with this dude, but I got too excited about the whales and the adventure. I thought about jumping off the boat in the dark and being eating up by the real sharks. I wondered if I should just endure my mistake and learn from it?

None of these were good ideas. I tried something else and said, I have to go to the bathroom because my stomach is upset. It’s urgent. He got grossed out a bit as he thought about it. Miraculously, right after, he started having some stomach cramps from his wine. I was so relieved when he finally started driving the boat toward shore. When we made it back, I jumped off, thanked him for the trip, and ran away like a crazy lady. I didn’t want to look back—I just wanted to be at home and be safe. I told myself I would never do that again.

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After this event, I realized I needed a real friend. So, I went back on the Couchsurfing page and decided to send personal messages to individuals and meet up if they were interested. That’s how I ended up meeting one of my good friends, Rose. She is French, and it was a welcome change to speak my native language. She was as crazy as I was and knew even more languages than me. We were the perfect match. We started hanging out a lot, especially to party, gossip, or go to dinner. That was our little ritual. She was as extravagant as I was, and had some experience traveling on her own, which I needed to learn. But in many ways, she was as lost as I was, so we didn’t help each other much in that sense. But we were together.

We were liberal and free with our thinking and our bodies. We were an explosion of fireworks anywhere we went—loud, impulsive, and fiery, but always willing to make up after a fight. But I wasn’t sure I could trust her. During this time, I didn’t know myself. I would let guys do whatever they wanted with me and vice versa. It was freeing, but it wedged a gap in my heart between men and myself. At the time I couldn’t see the huge hole that was growing in my self-esteem and self-respect.

Part of me felt off, though, so after a wild summer, I was ready for a change. I wasn’t fulfilled in any way but had lots of stories to bring with me. I had seen enough of this island. I tried to connect with locals a bit more, which were more Latinos than Spanish, and was reminded of the dream I had about going to South America. So, I thought to myself, why not keep chasing my happiness? Maybe it was on that continent?

Traveling alone didn’t excite