The Sports Cantina Santiago was mostly filled of Spanish speaking locals. They were there to watch the game. To cry. To laugh. To hi five. A man sat alone. His name was John. But he called himself Juan to the locals. John was a kind man. A fair man. A good man. But due to a tragic turn of events with the death of a friend and a wife leaving him, he sat alone in Chile watching the football game pondering all of his life's choices. Having just travelled with friends through the bottom of South America in search of something he thought would heal his broken heart, he was exhausted. And like most travelers , he didn't quite find what he was looking for. However in this bar, everytime people cheered it felt good. Every time he drank his beer it felt good. But he still had a missing piece. And a week left on his vacation. A wiley eyed bearded man with a camera walked in an sat down beside him. Clearly not Chilean. 'I'm from Kansas' he yelled over the game.
'What?' John replied
'Kansas. You know Dorothy the wizard of Oz' What he really meant is the Ozarks but since John is American he didn't want to scare him off.
'Drew' said the man from the Ozarks.
The two watched the game in silence as the man from the Ozarks ordered a mojito.
'That's a pretty girlie drink' said John eagerly.
'I'm on a diet so I gotta go easy'
'What sort of diet?'
'I'm on a shaman diet. Children of the jaguar. Been doing the ayahuasca and I can't have alcohol or pig or sugar or fried food or Guinea pig or horse. And I'm gonna have a baby.'
'But there's alcohol in there'
'Not really' just stared back at him with big eyes.
'Are you documenting this?' Jon said eyeing his camera.
'As a matter of fact I am'
'Are you making a documentary about the Amazon or diets or baby's...' He trailed off self conscious not to ask too many questions.
'As a matter of fact I am. I'm in the industry. Making documentary films. But not on the Amazon'
'I pitched a show a while back,' said John 'based on the long way round with that guy from star wars and his fat friend but through south Amer-'
'Well we beat you too it!' Celebrated the bearded man. 'Except it's called the short way down and it's with that pop star from that bad ninja movie and his tattooed hot model friend.'
John orders two whiskeys. 'So you guys are traveling from Ushiuia to colombia?'
'No, from Colombia to Ushiuia'
'So you rode motorcycles from there to Here?'
'No we flew.'
'And you're riding from here to Ushuaia'
'But isn't the end Ushuaia?'
'Isn't the point to ride from the top to the bottom?'
'Well..' Hesitated the bearded man 'that's why ours is called the short way down'
'And one bike broke so we flew. And because the guys a pop star we got free bikes from Ducati. But we need a driver in bariloche on Wednesday'
'Ok.. which one'
'Harley's and now ducatis'
'No which pop star?'
'The dippity do one with the hair from that dragon ball movie a few years back.'
'Oh the guy from breaking bad?' John replied
'No the other one'
'Oh that one.' John looked off in disappointment.
He wasn't disappointed though. It was just the natural state of his soul mourning the death of his old self. The farmer. Not the nomad. The sure thing. Or in America we call the banker. The home maker. The 9 to 5er.
'Isn't that a bit narcissistic?'
'Probably, they're both actors. I don't know' replied the bearded man as he sipped his mojito and cheered. The only one in the bar cheering for Kansas.
'Well this all sounds pretty stupid'
'Then why are you doing it?'
'For no good reason.'
'I'll see you in bariloche on Wednesday'
And for John that was enough of a reason.