oday is my last day in Quito.

Tomorrow I leave for the coast of Ecuador and then make my way south into Peru and Bolivia. I am traveling with my friend Kim, who I met in my first week here, climbing the volcano. We were the ones lagging behind, dizzy with the altitude and cursing all the sporty types at the front. Kim just turned 30 last week. She used to teach elementary school in Holland. But, like me, she quit her job right before she left and decided to travel to South America alone.

Now we're traveling together. After that, neither one of us knows.

When I ask Kim what she's going to do when she gets back to Holland, she says she doesn't want to think about it. I don't want to think about it either, but I think about it all the time. I can't figure out what city I'm going to, what job makes sense. I want to land in 10 places at once. I change my mind every hour. I'm never going back. I'm going back soon. I'm not going back till I figure out why I'm going back. It gets messy.

The traveling is only temporary. In September, Kim flies out of La Paz, and I make my way back to Ecuador alone. I'm planning to head to Cuenca, further south in the Andes, to study more Spanish and maybe see about a job. It should be fine if there's a little less pollution and a little less poverty than Quito. Today in the park I saw three little boys, their noses all brown and crusty, inhaling from plastic bags with tin cans in their hands. I don't even know how that works.

I just want to figure out what I like and do that thing. Right now, I like riding wobbly buses through the Andes. I like seeing the stars outside of the city. I like that U2 song. I like shiny, sparkly things. I like it when people wear clothes that match their eyes. I like honey and peanut butter. Goddamn it, you know what I like? I like dancing.

If you know of a job that fits that description, please advise.