Is it an ache or an itch?

Ache: a continuous or prolonged dull pain in a part of one's body.

Itch: an uncomfortable sensation on the skin that causes a desire to scratch.

All travel involves some degree of discomfort. While indeed I can be uncomfortable in the recliner of my own living room, somehow travel exacerbates it, especially when in areas and situations that may be quite different from home.

On this trip to Ecuador, I’ve experienced both aches and itches. 

Sitting in a canoe for long stretches, standing for a long period while a guide helpfully explains the medicinal properties of a plant or mating habits of an animal, and hikes over uneven terrain, produce a low pain in the muscles of the back and legs. My lungs ache some from the high altitude and air filled with volcanic ash requiring additional breaths needed to climb hills and even stairs. Over all, my journey thus far has been blessedly free of aches, not keeping me from either sleeping or limiting my physical activities.

Perhaps more annoying are the itches I’ve needed to scratch. Small thorns made my palms itch. Seawater when snorkeling made my body itchy at times. I’ve gotten a couple bug bites. But perhaps the worst is the irritation caused by continuous mask wearing behind my ears and under my chin(s). Itches also make me worry about the effect of scratching those irritations. Am I only making the itch worse by applying fingernails to temporarily relieve the problem?

Neither my aches or itches have been severe enough to demand medicinal intervention. I haven’t taken Tylenol or applied Anti-Monkey Butt Powder (much) to relieve the problems. For that I am grateful.

While aching and itching are normally thought of as physical problems, I find some of psychological discomforts can also be defined as an ache or an itch.

My own mental aches include wondering if I have led a good life. Have I been fair to my children, lovers, and friends - or have I been too selfish? Am I kind enough, generous enough, humble enough? Have I contributed in a meaningful way to my profession? Will I be able to remain productive as I age? Thankfully, these psychic aches have not required mental painkillers - no sleeping pills, illicit drugs, or electroshock therapy. I do like my wine, but I don’t think of it as a painkiller, but perhaps I am deluding myself.

My mental itches are more specific and perhaps harder to deal with. Should I buy that new shirt (although I have plenty in my closet)? Do I eat that fast food hamburger or bowl of ice cream (knowing I need to control my weight)? Is planning my next trip just scratching my itch of needing to see new places, have new experiences (although I have been fortunate enough to travel worldwide)? Why do I have to scratch my curiosity to check my investment account so often (even though I have no immediate need for the funds in it)? I don’t know if there is a psychological version of benadryl to make me less needful of impulsively scratching these irritations other than awareness of them and practicing self control.  Or perhaps I just need counseling.

Now that I’ve satisfied my writing itch for today, my aching body will do a bit of reading.

Bird watcher watching

A Stinky Turkey at the Napo Wildlife Center (actual name)

“Look! Over there! It’s a golden crested rump scratcher!

 “Where?”

“On that branch. See it just moved.”

“Oh, I see it now.”

“By the dead branch?”

“No, just down and to the left.”

“Yeah, I see it now too.”

“Are you sure that’s not a pinstriped nitpicker?”

“Let me get the book… No, it’s a female rump scratcher, for sure.”

“Oh, I see it now too.

 “That makes 17 new species I’ve seen this morning alone. I gotta record this.”

And so the conversation went for about two hours on the small platform of a 120 foot observation tower high above the canopy of the Ecuadorian rainforest. We reached it, leaving before dawn, after a 30 minute paddled canoe ride across a caiman-filled lake and another 30 minute hike on dark, wet jungle trails. Our group consisted of two couples who were avid bird watchers and took their hobby quite seriously. With an indigenous guide whose eyes saw more than we visitors with binoculars, the Alaskan couples were in seventh heaven. (Some of the sightings made me wonder if there may not have been some mass hallucinations going on.)

These couples had already been to several areas in Ecuador noted for bird watching - some of which sounded quite challenging to get to. (The Napa Wildlife Center where we met them was a 4.5 canoe ride through the jungle which was exciting enough, especially when the howler monkeys sounded like they were about to invade the boat.) They had also been to many places around the world in pursuit of adding to their list of seen birds. They were equipped with good binoculars, cameras, guides, notebooks, and phone apps. 

My friend Heidi and I enjoy watching birds. It’s delightful to see nuthatches, chickadees, and cardinals on our Minnesota bird feeders. On walks we often spot eagles, hawks, herons, and snow geese. But we don’t really take it very seriously, I guess.

While I don’t personally share the passion the Alaskan couples showed for their hobby, I was a bit envious. Having such a passion, whether it is for birds, sports, cars, books, cooking or who knows what else, adds meaning and pleasure to one’s life. Maybe even purpose.

I’d not seen bird watchers close up before, but I am glad I did. It made me reflect on whether I could use a little more passion in my own life for a hobby. 

But probably not birdwatching.