Zucchi – Memories of a Hitchhiking Zucchini

This summer I made the trip of my lifetime. I am a Zucchi the hitchhiking Zucchini. I want to share my memories with you. Memories of a strange and beautiful life.

I was born in the Lithuanian countryside, but moved to the city when I was very young. My father was a farmer and my mother a proud Zucchini motherplant with lots of children. I left my family, when I was six weeks old, to become part of a Tortilla party. Getting sliced into some delicious stuffing and feed some humans. But things went different. I made friends. Human friends. And they were going to do some strange thing called „hitchhiking“. I was invited.

My mother was really upset in the beginning. Why can‘t you do normal things like all Zucchinis do? She wanted me, to become a meal. A Moussaka, Zucchini Bread, joint venturing with some pasta or getting thrown on a barbecue, like my more „cool“ brothers. Just social pressure. We started to have a fight. Who are you, to tell me what to do? You never got out of your garden. There is more in the world than the carrot bed and the apple tree beside you. And even those stupid herbs suck!

Of course the herbs don‘t suck, I had a beautiful childhood with them and I really love how they grow and smell. But I was so upset. All those expectations what you should become. Just because you were born as a Zucchini. Lucky me, I made new friends. They were so different that my life seemed to cleave. And it did. I left my home. Today I understand, that I just wanted to explore.

We went to the countryside. There was some good air, Sauna, a lake to swim and some more crazy hitchhikers. But again I was not eaten. For days I was lying between rotten tomatoes and moldy rutabagas. I realized, I don‘t want to end like this. End like an outcome of this capitalistic overproduction. Too much food that just got thrown away and not eaten. I mean, it is okay if food is not eaten. But then it should receive another sense for their existence. Shouldn‘t it? But what could that be for me?

I was thinking about this question. What can I be? If not a Zucchini in a meal? It stroked me. There was no answer. Fuck. My life. So poor. And then I might rott away aswell. It make me become really depressed. My rotten tomato friends tried to cheer me up and grew some beautiful mildew on their heads. But it did not help. For days I could only stare and felt so numb. Dead end? Eventually, the answer came just like that. My friends took over the decision, without knowing about my doubts. They probably did the best thing that ever happened to me. „Zucchi, we hitchhike to Oslo and you will be part of it. Come on!“ I was so surprised. I could not talk or express myself in this moment. Because I am a Zucchini and Zucchinis have no way to express themselves, nor can not talk to humans. But I was happy and excited about hitchhiking to Oslo.

When I called my motherplant, she was raging. But this time she was also worried. She knew I made it to the Lithuanian countryside and that my life was already going nuts. „Around the baltic sea? How can that work? Nobody will stop for you guys.“, she said. „It is such a long way. And you are a Zucchini, how should you be able to hitchhike?“ Last point was a legit argument. But you know, I always believe in life. I always believe I can make a difference. And the truth was: Once my new friends picked me up, I wasn‘t a normal Zucchini anymore. I was Zucchi now.

My friends. They were awesome. They made me an arm and put a thumb on it. It looked quite shitty, but it is hard to hitchhike without a proper thumb. Also they glue this sticker in my face. Seemed to be about some hitchhiking club and was supposed to help me finding rides. Now I was looking a bit more like a human. Because humans stop for humans and not for Zucchini they said. Of course, it was just a bad try to fake my appeareance. I was still looking like a Zucchini. Kind of. But now everything was prepared, for the very first Solo Zucchini Hitchhiking Expedition.

Hitchhiking is so much fun. I don‘t get why so many humans are not doing it. It is a very liberating lifestyle. We are road punks, just taking the next random ride. Bumming around, as if the whole world our living room. In fact it is. The world is ours! And yours! Because ownership is theft.

How is hitchhiking as a Zucchini? Usually we hitchhiked during the day. Waiting at onramps, along the road, gas stations and sometimes even parking lots of supermarkets. I could not talk to the people, so my human friends took care about this. But most of the time we just stick our thumb out and wait that one of the passing cars will stop. Thats why the Russians call it autostop. Easy as that. It is the philosophy of hitchhiking.

In the evening we rest at random places. Where our car drops us. We put up a tent, make some dinner and go to sleep. Sometimes we don‘t set a tent. Just because we are lazy bones and like to sleep under the clear sky. Sleeping everywhere outside is an important skill if you hitchhike. I mean, you can just live on the road. In the morning you make coffee, pack your backpack and walk 50m and move on. No cities, hotels, eating in expensive fast food shit restaurants. Just enjoying the show on the road.

Sometimes we didn’t sleep during the night, because we were hitchhiking all the time. But thats no problem.,The next day we just find a good place to crash and have a nap. Once we arrived in Tallinn at the harbor to catch a ferry. There where still some ours left. Time to set a hitchhiker-camp in the waiting area and make yourself another home. Home is where your Zucchini heart is. And my home was always with my hitchhiking friends.

Other times we hitchhike with weird people. Many are fucking cool. They do this random act of kindness. I am very grateful that they share a little bit of their time with us, while moving in the same direction. I never had any bad experience on this trip. Some want to know if it is dangerous to hitchhke. Dangerous? Well, those dumb fucks who carried me were the most dangerous. Hard to rely on human carefulness. In the beginning I got dropped several times. In the mud, on stones, on the street or, if I was lucky, into the grass. Scars all over my Zucchini body. I started to like them while our trip was progressing. They make me look more dangerous. And I understood that humans think, this is cool.

Once we got picked up by this family in a camper. seven people already in there and this stupid looking guy called Walter. He was dutch and had a great sense for humor. While hitchhiking you meet a lot of different fellows. Zucchinis from the city. Zuchinis from different countries. Zucchinis that are made for Feta-Cheese Salad, Barbecue, reproduction, Zucchinis that just exist to look good or Zucchinis that are on the good old Musakka career. The classical Zucchini life path, lots of work, no pleassure, just to end up eaten as everyone else. But I don‘t judge it. Because I feel a certain love for everything during hitchhiking. Everyone can make life how he or she wants. In the end I appreciate, that they picked us up. Hitchhiking is a good lesson for becoming grateful.

Once I met this girl. She looked so different with her darker skin. Back home people often don‘t like Zucchinis like this. Maybe they are scared. Maybe they don‘t know what else to feel towards them. Because indeed it is kind of strange in the first moment, when you see another Zucchini that looks not like you. Hellya! I even heard there are Zucchinis that are yellow! Can‘t believe it!

Anyway. I think inside we are all made from the same flesh. More or less. And this girl had just a wonderful charactini. She was driving around with her human step-mother since a couple of days. Her name was Zuzu. She was so sophisticated, seen all Sweden already. I felt in love with her. She adored my scars and I had to look at her beautiful stub all the time. This perfect cut, probably made with a proper knife by a skilled gardener. We talked without a break during the 15 minutes, while I was with her in the car. She was definitely the Zucchini of my dreams. The one and only. There is no Zucchini like her outside. I am so sure about this.

But I couldn‘t stay with her. Those dumb humans just took me with them, when they left the car. I was screaming, swearing, tried to hit one of them in the nuts with my fake hitchhiking thumb. But I know I had to leave. And it was my choice. I was a wandini now. A nomadic Zucchini. I had to leave my emotional boundaries. There was no room for it in this kind of life.

Finally we arrived at this strange hitchhiker meeting in Norway. What an awesome gathering. Hitchhikers from all over Europa, ah bullshit, from all over the world have been there. It was more a family thing, less than 100 people, but everyone was unique and awesome. I loved to be there. Met a lot of other vegetables there. Some of them with a really sad life story. Thrown carelessly into the dumpster, because they are not looking as nice as their friends. Because they look different and seem not worth to get a spot in the spotlights of human admiration. The world is so cruel.

How can people do something like this? There is a nice and friendly melon, she has some dents okay. It might even look a bit shitty, but she was the best stand up comedian in the whole gathering. All those fruits and vegetables have wonderful charactinis. Still. And it breaks their heart to be rejected from the normal food circle. Those hitchhikers….they rescued them. Gave them a new home, new purpose of existence and ate them like….holy shit. It was such a feast. Those savage humans. Some reminded me of the pigs I knew from my country-side home. Just stuffing all day long food into them. I loved it! They are true heroes!

I was not eaten again. Maybe it is my destiny to stay in this world and get old. I tried to lvfe as a forest Zucchini. But that sucked. There are no toilets in the forest, I never got used to that. No place for a comfortable shittini So I had to get back on the road. I am planning to visit Lofotes next, because I heard it is the most beautiful place in Europe. I think, if you once fall in love with hitchhiking, you can‘t stop. You shouldn‘t stop. Just stay on the road. This is were we belong. Hitchhiking will always be a part of my Zucchini life. Because I am Zucchi, the Hitchhiking Zucchini.

Zucchi died in the age of 3,5 months by a moldy tumor that appeared in one of the cracks from her early lifetime dropping. This squashy spot got stucked on a branch while Zucchi climbed a mountain. He passed away in the forest, between a bunch of mushrooms and forget-me-not-flowers. What nobody knew. Zucchi contained seeds from the short encounter with Zuzu. He was pregnant! A new, wild motherplant would grow out of those seeds and remain on the place where Zucchi stucked. She is known to produce very adventurous and colourful Zucchinis.