But despite this, hitchhiking around America still has not lost its popularity. On many roads in America, you can still find people of different ages who, for various reasons, hitchhike around America.
But it is much easier for the inhabitants of this continent to hitchhike around America for the inhabitants of this continent than to hitchhike in their homeland for the inhabitants of Russia.
Strange, isn't it?
First of all, you need a good road map. Moreover, it is very detailed. So in America there is no problem with that. You can get it there in almost any library.
The most interesting thing is that while hitchhiking around America, you really don't have to take a lot of money with you. The main thing is to initially correctly determine the path where you decided to go.
The catch with this path choice is that your path will naturally go through many states. And naturally, each state sometimes has its own holidays. And rarely, such a holiday is complete without attractions. When hitchhiking around America, this is exactly what you should pay attention to. After all, every attraction offers free treats and drinks. Plus, some locals are happy to invite those who hitchhike (and not only them, of course) to their homes. For the sake of serving all sorts of food. Which they prepare according to tradition for everyone.
Well, like in Russia at the Pancake.
But hitchhiking around America is often upsetting for many. This often happens because it should be borne in mind that each state in America has its own laws.
And they can be very different from the law of your state.
Hitchhiking in America is not considered legal in every state.
Sometimes it's best not to pretend you're a hitchhiker. Just keep moving forward.
In different states of America, you are better off usingsign, where the inscription on it will say that you are hitchhiking. But don't stick out your fingerup... As in this photo. By the way, here are the guys in the photo standing in front of the bridges - this is a bad choice to stop the car. in front of the bridges, transport stops are prohibited! In some states and countries of the world, this gesture (fingerup) is considered an insult. Therefore, you need to thoroughly prepare for a hitchhiking trip in America.
And when hitchhiking in America, always try to be clean and tidy. Not like thesepeopleon the picture. Often the police, despite the fact that it is forbidden to hitchhike in the state, will never create trouble for you only for your clean and tidy appearance.
On some roads in America and other countries, it is generally forbidden to stop cars by voting. Up to punishment with a fine or a short term of imprisonment.
Keep in mind that on some roads (such as highways), you put more than your own at risk.life,but also the life of the drivers.
Among those who hitchhike around America, there is an opinion that has been tested over the years. It is best to hitchhike along the West Coast of America.
For those who are subject to other people's influence.
Most people in America are very religious people. And if you got into the car with such a person, and you yourself do not adhere too much to any religion, be prepared for the fact that they will now begin to brainwash you. To try to convince you to accept their faith. And it’s good if it’s not outlaw sectarians. What should you do in this case?
Do not be rude in any way. Be polite. Understand one thing for yourself: many drivers pick up travelers for the sake of conversation. Not for the money. And you should be prepared for the fact that you will have to talk a lot on different topics.
The situation was very sad: after paying for the apartment, only $ 20 remained in my pocket and work was not expected in the near future. The most sensible thing in such a situation would be to sit at home and eat rice with water. But it was somehow completely uninteresting.
The Atlantic Ocean was splashing only about 70 km from our house, and I decided not to waste time and try to hitchhike to it. I already had experience of hitch-hiking in the USA: from the airport to the hotel in which I was supposed to work, I got on a hitchhike.
Using Googlemaps I quickly found out that the easiest way to get to the coast was via Interstate 4. And, just as importantly, this road passed right under the windows of our house.
After reading several reports on hitchhiking in the United States, I knew that catching a car right on the track was a gross violation that could lead to problems with the police. It is best to stop at the entrance to the highway, and such entrances, I must say, are not so often located. The nearest one had to go about 3 km.
Using the services of a home air conditioner, I carefully marked out with a marker “ DaytonaBeach »On A4 sheet, collected what I need for 2 days in a small backpack and cheerfully left the house.
While I was collecting and studying the map, it was imperceptibly noon, and the sun began to burn very noticeably. When I got to the highway exit, I was all sweaty and angry.
In order to have the full moral right to impudently look into the eyes of the Americans who do not stop next to me (they say: “do not pretend that you are in the other direction”), I approached the very turn on the highway. Once again thinking about the degree of my idiocy, I took off my backpack, raised the sign and began to vote, trying to smile at the cars passing by ...
For some reason, I thought that I would be able to stop the ride as quickly as during my first hitchhiking at the airport, but after 20 minutes I realized that I was mistaken. To top it off, I saw a police car driving along the highway. It was too late to lower the sign. I was definitely noticed.
It is worth making a small digression here. The fact is that in many US states, hitchhiking is prohibited. Yes Yes! As strange as it may seem. But, as I learned from the hitchhiking wikipedia, in Florida, the police don't touch hitchhikers. True, it should be noted that I did not know the degree of truthfulness of this information. Plus, the police will probably have their own opinion, no matter what the hitch-hiking wikipedia says.
A police car drove along the lane farthest from me and pulled up on the other side of the road. It was clear that they stopped there not just to rest. We were separated by three lanes along which cars drove without interruption.
"Well, now I will get the experience of communicating with the American police" - I thought. What would be the smartest thing to do in this situation? Leave? But I will not sink into the ground. They will catch up and stop me anyway. I decided to pretend that nothing was happening and continued to vote. When the police drive up to me, I'll pretend to be a sluggish (and, actually, why pretend to be?) Foreigner. I will tell them that I didn’t know that you shouldn’t stop in the USA. That it is legal in my country and that is why I am used to driving like this ... Well, I will somehow dismiss it. After all, they won't put me in jail, will they?
Probably for about 2 minutes the flow of cars did not allow the police car to cross the road. And, apparently tired of waiting, the cops addressed me through their megaphone. “Something there go bek something there” - they told me. Not really understanding what they want, but being delighted with such a resolution of the situation: “it means they will definitely not be imprisoned” - I nodded to them with a smart face and showed an OK gesture.
Apparently, I was standing too close to the turn that the police did not like and they asked me to step back a little along the road. I walked about 50 meters and turned around: the police car was parked in the same place. Passed another 50 meters: the car drove away.
It was possible to stop further, but, as the well-known anecdote says: "the spoon was found, but the sediment remained." The mood was not to hell. I was all wet, terribly thirsty and felt that I would burn a little more under the scorching tropical sun. McDonald's was ten minutes away. It was vital for me to dip myself under the air conditioner, so I decided to take a short break.
I paid for the Large Soda and, having received a large glass, filled it to the brim with ice and filled the gaps with Coca-Cola. In American fast-writing establishments, after paying for a drink, you get a glass and fill it yourself with soda. Moreover, since the vending machine with Soda (as the bourgeois call soda) stands right in the middle of the dining room, you can approach the vending machine several times. Well, theoretically, it may not be possible to do this, but everyone, from restaurant workers to ordinary American workers, does not hesitate to approach the machine twice.
I opened my laptop and saw from the map that there was a small town of Deltona on the road between Orlando and Daytona. Maybe you should try to get to him first? Right there, in a cafe (print that I can't raise my hand at McDonald's restaurant), a new sign was made “ Deltona ". It seemed to me more beautiful than the previous one and I hoped that the drivers would also appreciate it.
Before leaving the restaurant, I smeared myself thickly with sunscreen and refilled my glass to the brim. In order not to get bored, I put on my headphones and turned on Tony Joe White. The hitchhiking process resumed.
Singing and dancing, I had time to listen to only three songs, when a signal sounded behind me. It turned out that a car stopped behind me, but I didn't even notice it. Running up, I thought: “How good it is to stop with a sign. The driver has already agreed to give me a lift to Deltona. " Not like on our roads: you run up to the driver, say where you are going, and he replies that he is not on his way. Straight titmouse out of hand!
But in this case, the tit was in the hands: the man of about 50, who was driving, was indeed driving to Deltona. He asked me why I was going to Deltona. I answered as it is: I am going to Daytona Beach - to look at the ocean, and I have to go to Deltona because I could not catch a direct transport. The driver told me that it was strange, because almost everyone follows this road to Daytona Beach.
Then we talked a lot. I told about myself, and the driver about myself. It turned out that he works in an amusement park SeaWorld (who, by the way, is not far from our house), and he himself lives in Delton. He is married for the second time and has 6 children. Three from the first wife and three from the second. All his children have grown up and have been living separately for a long time, the oldest being 29 years old. He moved to Florida with his wife about three years ago, and before that he lived in Massachusetts.
So, after talking, we quickly got to Deltona. He asked where it would be better to drop me off and I asked him to throw me off somewhere at the exit from the highway so that the police would not stop my further hitchhiking (I already wrote above that you cannot stop on the highway). He did just that.
What! It's not all bad. It was less than a third of the way to Daytona Beach.
I took out a ready-made sign, crossed the road and continued to catch a ride. Tony Joe White still kept me busy. In the pauses between the songs, someone's heart-rending screams began to break through. I turned around and saw a car parked 50 meters away from me, in which an African American was sitting and shouting loudly at someone. Thinking that the African American might not appreciate my attention, I decided not to pay attention to the screams and continued my work. But after a few minutes it became very difficult to listen to Tony Joe White: the African American screamed louder and louder ... "When will he calm down?" - I thought. So I stood and endured his exclamations for some more time, and then I thought: maybe it’s him shouting to me? Indeed: the driver in the car was looking in my direction, shouting and waving his arms. It turned out that he was on his way to Dayton and was ready to let me down ...
Damn. It didn't work out well ...
The African American was originally from New York and had his own construction business. He lamented to me that for the last 2 years he has almost no orders and lives off loans, which are still returned to him by those to whom he has built houses. Then he told me about Dayton Beach for a long time and in detail.
Daytona is the capital of American bikers. Bikers hang out in Dayton all the time. But once a year there is a week when bikers from all over America flock to the festival. About 10,000 bikers come to the city. This is a lot for a small resort town. The American said that on such days it is almost impossible to drive through the city by car. Bikers are everywhere! Thousands of bikers!
Daytona is also famous all over the world for its rally track. It hosts prestigious tournaments several times a year. And, as it turned out quite by accident, just today, on the day of my arrival in Dayton, the final of some kind of Nascar Cup was held.
The streets in front of the rally track were filled with people. Individual representatives walked right by the road with signs “ Needticket ". Workers set up the stage for the concert in the square in front of the entrance.
The driver dropped me right in the center of the city and indicated the direction to the ocean. He said that to go to the coast about 2 miles (a little over 3 km). "Not a problem!" - I answered. “I think the same,” the driver replied and we said goodbye.
The sun continued to beat down mercilessly, so 2 miles didn't seem so short to me. Finally, I reached the ocean coast. In order not to worry about the safety of things, I went into one of the coastal cafes and told the waitress that I was a tourist, I want to swim, but I was worried that someone might steal my backpack with a laptop. “Know the problems” - she answered me and took my things for safekeeping.
For 30 minutes I soaked in the ocean and thought that life was not so bad. True, I still did not know where I would spend the night, but for some reason it did not frighten me.
After swimming, I decided to head back to the center of Daytona. Most likely there will be something interesting near the rally track today on the occasion of the races.
The waitress greeted me with a question: "Would you like to buy an inexpensive laptop?" I joked back that I was ready to take it for free. "Well, so be it!" she replied, returning my backpack.
I settled down to spend the night at the airport, sitting comfortably on two large leather chairs ... And the next day I went home. But this is a completely different story ...
The famous gesture of American hitchhikers - a hand with a drawn thumb is known all over the world. Perhaps, it is quite a bit inferior in popularity to another American gesture with a different drawn-out finger. The history of the American hitchhiking, it turns out, was not easy, but very interesting.
First, there was no "hitchhiking" in America. This is a European term. And in the United States, hitchhiking has been called hitchhiking at all times.
It all began in the 1920s, when the states were plagued by the Great Depression. A huge number of people found themselves out of work, the poverty line did not go one by one, but whole streets, and sometimes even blocks. Especially in peripheral cities. Residents of the province were forced to actively seek new opportunities for earning money, and therefore left their homes and moved to their places. And since in the United States by that time there were just under 26 million rides, the poor, hungry for work, went out on the tracks in search of a ride. Mostly due to the fact that they did not have the opportunity to pay for another way of travel. This is how hitch hiking was born.
This quickly became a problem for railway companies and for the state in general. For the first, because people did not buy tickets, and for the second, because taxes did not go to the treasury from those tickets that were not bought. The people became so insolent (from the point of view of the state) that they began to arrange stops for hitchhikers!
In general, after calculating the losses, the railway workers and the state realized that it would be cheaper to invest in the propaganda of accidents on the roads. From completely legal methods, such as advertising on the roads (pictured below), to very muddy ones:
At the same time, rumors began to spread about killers and maniacs who catch their victims using the hitch-hiking method. Funds from hitchhikers were actively advertised: from banal stickers on the windshield to radical ones, on the verge of the law.
For example, Steinbeck says about stickers in his "Grapes of Wrath":
The pedestrian got up and looked at the driver through the cab windows.
- Can you give me a lift, mister?
The chauffeur took a quick glance at the bar.
"Can't you see what's on my windshield?"
- How not to see - I see. Still, a decent person - he is always decent, even if some rich bastard makes him ride with such a sticker.
But these were the radical remedies:
The persecution of hitch-hikers has not completely eradicated the phenomenon, but it has ceased to be massive either. At least until the outbreak of World War II, when hitchhiking was back in vogue. It is believed that this was a reaction to calls for the Americans not to spend excess fuel in wartime. And besides, a man in a military uniform could always catch a ride. So thumbs raised up again returned to the side of American roads.
In the 1950s, active construction of high-speed motorways began in the United States. This again greatly reduced the mass of hitch-hikers (there is nowhere to vote on the autobahn). But not for long. The 60s and 70s came with their new youth trends, festivals and hitchhiker idols. Hitch-hiking has developed not only an economic rationale, but also a romantic flair. Kerouac alone was worth something. Again, it was probably very difficult to drive past such hitch-hikers.
In the 1980s, the state took over the hitchhikers again. It began with anti-propaganda in the media, and ended with a natural ban at the legislative level. In addition, statistics on accidents on the roads really jumped during that period. This company practically killed the romance of hitch-hiking, and most importantly, radically changed the attitude of the Americans themselves towards it.
And although today hitchhiking is prohibited in only a few states, standing on the roadway and interfering with traffic, even with a raised hand, is prohibited everywhere. However, from the cultural memory of the United States, and indeed of the whole world, this movement can no longer be eradicated. At least thanks to movies and songs.
I'm not talking about.
After traveling in Russia and Europe, blogger Tasha Kosmos went to explore the reserves and national parks of the United States. To cut costs, she decided to hitchhike. In the end, she managed to travel 18 states, see Niagara and the Grand Canyon, spending only $ 400, and even make some money along the way.
"Paper" I learned from Tasha how to organize a five-week trip at minimal cost, why people helped for free and sometimes donated money, and also what became the most unpleasant thing in dealing with Americans.
Tasha Cosmos
Preparation
I travel a lot, but the States have never been a priority. All my life I have been a fan of cities, but after traveling in Ireland and Iceland, I began to love nature. It turned out that most of the places I like from this point of view are in the United States. Therefore, the key points of the route were the national parks of Yellowstone, Yosemite and the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, the west coast and several large cities - New York, Chicago, Seattle, San Francisco, Las Vegas.
I have a design job, so there were no problems over time. I had not gone on solo trips before, but my husband did not want to go with me. There was not much money either - and so I made two fundamental decisions: go alone and hitchhike.
The first week and a half were planned, and they became the most civilized, because they took place in big cities. The first few days I lived in a loft in New York, then I went to Connecticut, where my biophysicist friend showed me the laboratories of Yale University and the most beautiful street in the United States. She took me to New England lighthouses and drove me all the way to Boston. The hardest part of hitchhiking is getting out of the city. On the first day, a friend took me out, and this is how my hitchhiking began, which was planned only three or four days in advance.
I only had one small backpack with me. There was an excellent response from couchsurfing, there were no problems with sleeping or finding a host, so I decided not to take either a tent or a sleeping bag. As a last resort, I could buy them locally if needed. Blogs about my past travels helped in finding hosts for couchsurfing. The detailed information about me, plus the positive reviews on couchsurfing, inspired confidence in people.
There was not much money - and so I made two fundamental decisions: go alone and hitchhike
Most of the money was spent on food, because, in addition to my own food, I bought something for the people who received me - this is not necessary, but I wanted to show gratitude for the hospitality. In second place is public transport. You spend quite a lot inside the city: the metro, for example, costs from 2 to 9 dollars. In addition, it was necessary to buy tickets to museums, entry to national parks is also paid - about $ 30 per car. When I was going to the Grand Canyon, it was planned that my friend and I would take a car for two, this trip would have cost me $ 200, and we almost canceled it. But in the end, they miraculously found a bigger company and it turned out to be 30 bucks per person. To find fellow travelers, I used all the same couchsurfing and the popular American classifieds site craigslist.org.
For $ 40, I bought an American SIM card with unlimited calls, SMS and mobile internet for 30 days. All the cards I had were electronic - in the phone. He was my only way to protect myself on the road. Before you get into the car, you have a few seconds to snip the license plate. I was sending a photo to my American girlfriend. If something happens, I could show this SMS and tell the driver: "Hey, everyone already knows about you!" Fortunately, this was never required.
In five weeks, I had to return to New York, from where I flew home. Google gave the time taking into account the fact that you were driving without stopping, so I put two or three hours on top. Sometimes the move took two or three days. And nevertheless, I kept within the schedule. A promotion from an American low-cost airline helped a lot: I bought an air ticket from Chicago to Denver for only $ 54. And this is only three hours of flight instead of three days of travel through the states in the center of the country, where there was nothing interesting for me. With the same low-cost airline, I flew back from west to east across the country. A ticket from Vegas to Pittsburgh was $ 98, a bus from Pittsburgh to New York was $ 15.
duration of travel in the USA
the cost of an American visa for three years
tickets to New York
spending on the road
communication expenses
length of the hitchhiking route
during the trip
drivers were driven while hitchhiking
Travel
Everything I read in advance on the Internet boiled down to the fact that hitchhiking in the United States is very slow and illegal in many states. In the state of New York, where I went from Massachusetts to see Niagara Falls, it was definitely prohibited. My first driver, Randy, told me to pretend I was just tying my shoelaces if I came across the police. But I confidently told Randy that I could easily catch the next car without leaving the state.
The whole store fed me, and one of the customers found out my story, shook my hand and gave me twenty
And so it happened: as soon as I got out of the car, another one immediately slowed down, I did not even have time to get my sign with the name of the destination. The driver very confidently told me: "Hop on!" I tried to explain to him where I was going, and he suddenly announced that he already knew where. After a couple of jokes about the CIA and Russian spies, it turns out that his friend saw me standing with a sign, but was driving in the other direction. He realized that he would not have time to turn around, so on the phone he asked a friend who was driving in the right direction to grab me. As a result, my first day of hitchhiking passed so comfortably and simply, as if I was carefully taken to visit an old friend, and this set the mood for the whole subsequent journey.
In the town of Buffalo, an American grandfather, a bicycle shop owner, gave me a bicycle for free so that I could go to Niagara and back. The whole store fed me, and one of the customers learned my story, shook my hand and gave me twenty. This was the first time I was given money while traveling around the States. I tried to explain that I was not a vagabond, but a traveler, that I had money, but he began to take offense.
I have never paid for housing, not always for food. The unfamiliar Americans I met were seduced by my trip, and each felt it was his duty to feed me or give me money. Once the motorcyclists who were driving in the other direction stopped: "We cannot give a lift, let us help at least in this way, buy yourself a dinner!" In Vegas, I spent the night for free in the luxury hotel where Elvis lived, because my driver insisted that I should feel the spirit of the city: he walked me around the casino and paid for the room. I managed to "earn" 95 bucks - this is only in those cases when people were offended and it was no longer possible to refuse. If I hadn’t rejected so stubbornly, much more would have come of it.
Almost all the drivers gave me their number and asked to let me know as soon as I got there. So in the evenings I had a ritual: I wrote SMS to my drivers, because, in my opinion, this is minimal gratitude to a person so that he at least does not worry. We still communicate with some of them.
Risks
My American friends scared me with two things: bears and psychos. Because of this, I decided that I would be on the road only during the day, although earlier, when traveling by hitchhiking in Russia or Europe, I felt calm at night. By the way, I saw a grizzly bear with cubs, but from the car and at a safe distance. As for the psychos, my friend, for example, said that there were four shootings in her area in a week. But I replied that this was nonsense: people have no reason to shoot the hitchhiker.
The fact that I'm a girl helped me rather. Firstly, the girl on the road inspires less fear. Secondly, many drivers said that they gave me a lift just because it could be dangerous. Every driver told me: "If my wife or daughter were in such a situation, I would like someone like me to give her a ride, and not some nutcase."
I already started to say goodbye, and he suddenly asks me: "What about a blowjob for a ride?"
I was asked why you don't have at least a pepper spray. But I'm sure that if I took the can, I would probably need it, and I don't want to attract trouble. However, two stories happened to me: one strange, the other funny.
Once I didn't even vote, I just walked along the road. Suddenly a car stopped, filled to the brim with garbage, a drug addict was sitting inside. He didn't look dangerous, he was just insane. He immediately began to pour out a bunch of information on me, call me to his home and offer weed, I replied that I was waiting for a friend and would not go with him. This was the only time I didn’t get into the car because of the driver.
The second time I was driven by a stern, bearded American farmer, very silent and in a classic pickup truck. All the way I chatted, tried to somehow entertain him - after all, for this they take fellow travelers. We arrived at our destination - in a crowded parking lot (which is also safe). I already started to say goodbye, and he suddenly asks me: "What about a blowjob for a ride?" I said "No thanks" and left, he did not insist.
An experience
My caring American acquaintances were so persistent in telling stories about bears and maniacs that, to be honest, this was the first trip before which I really got scared. At some point, I thought, maybe I really don't understand what I was doing, and I shouldn't be so frivolous. But the brave is not the one who is not afraid, but the one who is afraid, but does.
Sometimes people even managed to help me from the other end of the country.
I expected to walk in the rain and wind on empty roads, run away from bears and sleep in barns. But every story that started out uncomfortably ended beautifully. Sometimes people even managed to help me from the other end of the country. One driver we became friends with called me when I got stuck on the highway in the dark. And by some miracle, a 20-minute walk from me turned out to be one of the hotel chain, in which he had the opportunity to get me a free number. Least of all on this journey I was ready for such miracles.
I don’t want to say that you have to rush headlong into solo hitchhiking adventures without money and without a plan. But if you have experience of traveling and communicating with different people, if you know how to handle suspicious situations, navigate the terrain and make decisions quickly, if you use your brain and trust yourself and the world, then everything is possible.
Our new hero, a young Belarusian guy named Verasen, quit his job and went on a journey from New York to Tierra del Fuego, stretching for a year. One of its inalienable attributes is a stool as a symbol of post-Soviet countries and "kitchen" revolutions. He carried her with him and, even though a truck ran over her in Brazil, he drove her to the ocean. We learned from the traveler what else happened in his overseas adventure.
Verasen
28 years old, geologist,
traveler, musician
The hardest part of the journey is to decide on it. There are always anchors that hold you. I never thought I would go to America. There was a collective romantic image in my head: Andy Warhol, rock and roll, Woodstock, dangerous blacks. It turned out that everything is wrong, and Mexicans and other Latinos are the most interesting people. In the Warsaw metro, he met his future wife, she lived at that time in Kiev and talked with travelers. They were going to America, there was an art project of the Ukrainian director Leni Kanter "With a stool to the ocean".
He managed to go to the Indian, Arctic and Atlantic oceans so, now he was gathering a company to go to the Pacific. Everything was conceived as an art expedition: on the way, once a month, to organize a festival in one of the cities. We were preparing for the trip for about a year. I was given a visa only the second time, and we flew to New York. Our budget for two was 1200 dollars: we made visas for them and bought two plane tickets, and upon arrival - a camera, a lens, a netbook in a Jewish consignment shop. The plan was this: to make money and move on. As a result, about three thousand came out for two in a year, plus we wrote articles, somehow survived. When we flew from South America, it was very expensive, and a bunch of people threw off our ticket. We practically did not pay for the night, but earned money by playing for people. Music saves a lot, it is an absolutely universal survival tool. After all, it is necessary that the stranger ceases to be afraid of you. And musicians with guitar and violin rarely attack people. And if you cannot explain yourself by means of language, then you always have music.
USA - Chile
NUMBER of countries:
North America
The whole world is a big echo of New York. It is truly the capital of the world. There you understand a lot: as if you watched a film, and then got into it. In New York, thinking is changing, it was very difficult to leave it. We rented an apartment in a black area, often on the way home from work I was the only white subway car. You start thinking in terms of money. You arrive, and in a day you are already working. You make at least $ 100 every day. It's very difficult to imagine a day off, because you don't get paid for the weekend. Money runs constantly: tips are given everywhere. When you hitchhike, everyone thinks you are fucking needy, and they offer you money.
I remember sitting in a cafe with a backpack, my grandmother comes up and gives me ten dollars. She doesn’t ask questions, shoves money - so she talked. Money becomes the equivalent of everything, cash is constantly growing under the pillow, and it is difficult to escape from all this. My wife played the violin in Times Square, I worked in a restaurant and at a construction site. First, in Brighton, in a restaurant that flashed in "Brother-2". At that time I knew English at the level of "open new file", "folder", "delete". And in most cases, he just knew where to press. I got a job as a bassboy. In theory, you have to clean the dishes, in fact, you are doing work that no one wants to do. Everything is clearly divided there: a hostess, a waiter who only accepts an order, a runner who brings an order from the kitchen. Tipping is received only by the waiter. Everyone is dressed the same, I was often called by visitors, asked something about the dishes from the menu. I listened attentively, said “sure”, went to the kitchen and did not appear in the hall for a while.
Then he went to the Cherry Hill restaurant, which is kept by an Azerbaijani Jew. Post-Soviet dudes have two topics of conversation: how little they pay and how they don't like everything. There I understood one of the laws of local work: you have to constantly do something. If you are constantly busy with something, no one will give you instructions - the person is already working, why touch him. I became friends with a Mexican, we threw jokes without words, and he taught me the basics of Spanish. Then he worked at a construction site until the heat peeled off the skin from his hands. I remember taking a car from one of the workers to go to Dunkin Donuts - I drive 160 km / h, enjoy the sensations and drive into some woman's car. I have no rights, no money with me, she does not speak English, only Spanish. I convinced her on my fingers to get behind the wheel of my car, drive to the construction site and take the money there. Everything worked out, but was terribly worried.
In many places in the United States, you cannot stop on the highways. Very often, the state police brought us back to the city and warned: "One more time and you will sit down." We left New York for two days: first a taxi driver gave us a lift, then some guys who asked us about the availability of weapons, and then showed the bat and said that they would kill us, if anything. The North of the United States has the worst hitchhiking in the world, for them it exists only in the movies. In fact, people are very much afraid of everything, because they have legalized weapons. You sit down, they ask: "Do you have a gun?" You go, you talk about other topics, and they ask again if there is no cannon. Some people call to tell their friends that they are taking travelers. Others say that if something happens to us in their car, they can easily sue.
It seemed to me that North America is very similar. Washington is a criminal black city in which we naively started looking for an overnight stay in dangerous areas. You cannot put up a tent. Need to ask permission to put it in the backyard. It's just that many states have the right to shoot you for being illegally in private territory. In Washington, we found a stern ex-paratrooper, the only white man on a black street. I played the guitar, my wife played the violin, he had already agreed to shelter us, but then an acquaintance answered us, with whom we could spend the night. All the people we met were very surprised that we were going to South America, and said: "You will be killed there, stay and live with us."
Central and South America
We made a Mexican visa back in Moscow, but when we arrived, we had already managed to cancel it if we had an American one. The north of Mexico, where the border with the United States passes, is the most dangerous. The Aztecs live there, the Mayans live in the south. The Aztecs are tall and look like those Mexicans in sombreros that we see in films, and the Mayans are all small in stature and with very clear eyes. We learned the standard text in Spanish: "We are travelers, we need to spend the night." You say it, and the dude looks you in the eye, doesn't ask anything. And then she nods her head and you have a better place to sleep and food. We drove through the most dangerous city in the world - Ciudad Juarez. The drug war is constantly going on there, military Hummers with machine guns are driving. The first thing we saw upon arrival was a corpse lying at a public transport stop. Initially, we thought to stay there for a while, but somehow I didn't really want to die.
We were in Bolivia on the largest salt marsh in the world: we stopped a dude who works there. We drove for four days, first in an empty compartment, and then filled to the brim with salt. There are no roads, just directions. Somewhere not far from the salt marsh, there is a ghost town where several families who are engaged in salt live. We slept on the floor, and there is salt below, it is very warm to sleep on it. When you walk there, you get the feeling that you are walking in the snow, only it is not slippery and tastes salty.
Travel gives you a very important skill: you learn to find a common language with everyone. Even for bandits, it's cool to meet an interesting dude. You recognize criminals by the way they talk: in a busy tourist place you are their target, and when you meet at their house you cease to be that target. They understand that you are not from the USA, you look and speak differently. In general, in South America, white is always a gringo. I did not meet racism only in Brazil and Ecuador. The attitude changes when you start speaking Spanish, because North Americans don't. On a journey, you begin to reflect people, mimic the environment in which you are. It’s better to figure it out early.
Music helped us a lot. In Costa Rica, we even got a producer; he was introduced to us by the man who gave us a ride. We played in the coolest jazz club, earned $ 100 per person in the evening, and it took us $ 50 for a month in Central America. We went surfing there. In Honduras, we visited the island of El Paco, where local fishermen and transvestites gathered. Local residents were shown a film about a hitchhiking trip in Tibet, they somehow managed to find a projector. We performed live on Panamanian TV, accidentally met the director of a cargo airline. As a result, we flew to Colombia for free on a cargo plane. In another way, you can get there only through the Darian gap - 90 kilometers of impenetrable jungle of drug trafficking and bandits, where you need to go with a machete if you want to try your luck.
In Colombia, we were met by a companion of a Panamanian comrade, who allocated a house in the center of the city. Then he invited me to the dacha: a huge family mountain, a river and houses. There was a party, we already imagined mountains of Colombian cocaine. And the dudes say to us: "No, drugs are for the poor." Such an upside down world. In South America, drugs are everywhere, you are constantly being offered something. But there it is for those who work hard. For example, in Mexico, all truckers are on amphetamine, some smoke through a light bulb - we have met such people. Powder is poured into the base, ignited, and vapors are inhaled.
We were in Patagonia - steppes where crazy winds blow. Drivers constantly steer in the direction from which they are blowing, because the wind can turn the car over. In the south of Argentina, cities are located at least 200 kilometers from each other. There is a railway, which was bought by the dudes in charge of trucking, and simply turned off, now only trucks carry all the goods.
In general, while traveling, the density of life increases fivefold: remembering, I think that everything was dreamed. And we took the stool to Tierra del Fuego and left it there by the ocean. She constantly attracted attention, they tried to buy her from us, and in Brazil she was run over by a truck. Most notably, it broke down in the woodworking area, so we quickly repaired it.
On the journey, you need to be light, we constantly got rid of things. A person does not need so much: in principle, you can get by with an iPhone and a charger. The main thing for a journey is desire. If you have it and you do not cycle on problems, then everything will be high.