It’s not a “vacation.” Certainly not a few weeks at a fancy resort with a pool, fresh towels and comfy beds. But there are cold beers. And sandy beaches. And beautiful sunsets. We just watch them in the same clothes we wore yesterday.

I really started to struggle this week. With the whole prolonged on-the-road mentality. I miss showering in an actual shower…one where the shower and the toilet aren’t directly on top of each other. And I miss being clean. Actually clean…the kind that lasts for more than ten minutes before you’re again covered in dirt or sunscreen or bug spray or sweat. I miss clothes that smell fresh and were actually dried in a dryer. I miss mascara.  And having more than two wardrobe options. And getting dressed up on Saturday nights and feeling pretty. I miss reliable wifi and watching TV. I miss being able to splurge on a latte without thinking about the extra dollar it costs. I miss calling my mom every day and getting coffee with my girlfriends. I miss the feeling of home and predictability and familiarity.

I used to think I was one of those “cool” girls. But who am I kidding. I can’t survive on a universal bar of soap - I literally have like five face products I’ve dragged around from country to country. And it grosses me out that Brad and I have to share a towel. And I hate sleeping on the sheets in hostels because all I can think of is the dirty hippy with dreadlocks and bedbugs who probably slept here the night before. And I literally thought I was going to die the day I had to take a pair of disposable underwear from a kind 73 year old Jewish woman because I unexpectedly got my period at 15,000 feet. And the lady at the "pharmacy" counter confusedly looked at me when I asked for tampax…

“You mean twix bar???”

“No, I do NOT mean twix bar…”

But I am grateful. I know that we’re getting to do what a lot of people just dream of. And I feel guilty. SO guilty. For even feeling an ounce of this feeling. We have seen people who have nothing. Who literally live amongst garbage. And here I am, complaining because we have a colony of ants living in our bathroom and a rusted out shower head.

I guess it’s the price you pay to see the world. You have to know that it all won’t be pretty and that there will be moments it is going to totally suck. You have to be willing to live in a little discomfort (or a whole lot of it) and just have faith that nothing lasts forever. The good will outweigh the bad. Because when you look over that mountain pass and see with your very own eyes, the things only before existed in a Patagonia commercial, you forget about the week you spent freezing your butt off to get there.  And the 45 minute, 105 degree, mosquito-infested bushwhack through the jungle becomes a distant memory when you catch a glimpse of crystal clear ocean surrounded by giant, lush palm tree covered islands.

So I shall continue to ride the wave. Maybe I’ll get more used to this whole “dirt bag” thing. Maybe it will start to get easier. Or maybe it won’t. Maybe I will always look longingly at the girls on the beach in their pretty sundresses who probably have a suitcase full of them back in their comfy hotel rooms. But while those girls unpack those suitcases and head back to work, I’ll be collecting another stamp on my passport and gazing at some new, strange place with my best friend in the world and wondering what will happen next. It’s all worth it in the end. The lows might be low, but the highs are so high. And sometimes you just have to just sit back, relax and enjoy the ride.

-Kenze