That Time I Lived in a Bus

I had no idea what I was walking into. When I stepped out of my taxi in Watsonville, California last summer, I had no idea what was in store. In short, I decided in the span of ten minutes that I would book a ticket to the middle-of-nowhere California to work on a certified organic farm for three weeks. This particular farm is located near Santa Cruz (one of my all-time favorite American cities) and grows flowers, fruits, herbs and vegetables. I worked for six hours a day alongside incredible humans with a passion for health, community, and the environment. I must admit that I was a bit apprehensive when I moved into my temporary home - an old school bus that smelled like dirty feet - but I grew to love the simplicity and beauty of waking up to the sunrise and being barefoot for 80% of the day. Every night I would watch the dirt wash off my body as I looked up at the stars and listened to the crickets sing. Sights and sounds that did not have to complete with the hustle and bustle of the "real world". Utter paradise. I forgot about my phone most days, getting lost in my own bubble of endless fruit & veg, bike rides, sunset views, and face to face conversation. My "co-workers", if you can even call them that, were not necessarily people I would encounter in my everyday life. A college dropout, a badass Chilean teen mom, and some insanely cool Californian hippies who own and run one of the most impressive farms in the state. An unlikely crew, but connections I still hold dear to my heart. Oh, and I really miss my school bus.