This stubborn girl is called Magda, is 27 years old and comes from Gliwice, Poland. Or rather: that is what is stated in the papers. Since half a year inhabitants of Central America are trying to convince me that Magdalena is not a Polish name. This cannot be! How could it possibly…? No, this is a latino name! Sure! One hundred percent! Nevertheless, if I really do not want to tell them my true name, I can, at a pinch(!), call myself Magdalena.
Taking advantage of this generous acquiescence, I wander around with a backpack between Panama and Mexico. From village to village, from volcano to volcano, I slowly pace highlands and jungles of Central America. Two days here, five days there, three days elsewhere. Nomad lifestyle quickly became my second nature. Yet, before I decided that all I need can fit in a forty liter backpack, I had a pleasure of using such things as a washing machine, a fridge or a four-door wardrobe (I have great memories of the fridge).
In the past life I was living in Cracow, Warsaw, France, US, Peru and Switzerland. I was cleaning lady, waitress, receptionist, translator, accountant and even a Swiss banker. There was a time when I specialized in French cheeses and a time when I was writing optimization algorithms for power plants.
One year ago I fulfilled my dream of graduating from a university listed as a top three in Financial Times’ ranking. Quaint combination of economics, statistics and programming that I learned, seemed to open the doors to the most prestigious financial institutions. Opportunity to work with the best people in the industry was at my fingertips. But how does that matter if I was dreaming about travelling on bags full of rice in some dilapidating, stuffed to the brim bus, going slowly across the highlands of Central America?