First day
at film festival, first bang. Kon-tiki, story of Thor Heyerdahl and his crew
passing the ocean managed to stop me on my tracks. Heyerdahl had a belief and
he set out to prove people from south america came to populate the west indies
fifteen hundred years ago. And he does that on a raft made with wood and ropes
in a journey that takes him across the Pacific from Peru to Tahiti for more
than hundred days.
There are
two parts to the story I cherished deeply. First part is the journey itself;
this sect of people like myself who cant stop their insatiable need to explore
and see and ask questions in the oddest parts of the world until there is no
mountain left to be hiked; no city to be explored; no land or geography to be
experienced; no climate to battle with. Those of us who have the desire to
persevere the why and the when and the who got to create the cultural spatial
mixes tucked between pieces of earth; a soup of archaeology, anthropology,
history, geology, immigration, genetics, earth sciences and simply the rocks or
the sand dunes. Thor the Norwegian gets on the raft and sails away to the
mountain height waves and the whales and sharks of the Pacific.