¡Buena Suerte la Gringa!

Farewell South America

2009-12-11T21:20:00.010-06:00

Holy cow, gee whiz, wow!!

In 10hrs I will be on a oneway flight to New York City. It has been nearly 8 months of backpacking by foot, bus, and hitching rides from Costa Rica to Argentina.

Tomorrow I will be home.
Sort of.

I will be in New York City (Brooklyn specifically). It is such a strange, anxious, happy feeling knowing that I am going back to the States. I have no idea what I'm going to do in Brooklyn or how long I am going to stay. All I know is that I have arranged a sofa to crash on with a girl who was on the Tyra Banks Show talking about dumpster diving. This should be exciting.

Traveling for such an extensive amount of time has taught me many things. It has helped me grow. It is impossible to explain everything that has happened in the 8 months of being in and out of different countries. For me to recap the things I've seen, people I have met, situations I have been in would be exhausting. It has been a whirlwind. One beautiful chaos.

What traveling has done for me has expanded who I am in ways I never considered. I have a new appreciation for being able to flush toilet paper down the toilet, buy deodorant and duck tape at the same store, bicycle lanes, peanut butter, and simple conversations with strangers.

I miss Austin.

I miss cycling at 5:00am on the Congress bridge, bonfires & Jameson, coffee shop talk, breakfast burritos, friends, interesting lectures, my seersucker pants, house keys. I miss all of the things that I never really thought I liked that much. This is what traveling does.. it teaches. It has put what matters most in perspective.

For example, I never considered having a home as liberating. I always viewed it as something you were tied to, like that it owned you in a way. All I want are my own keys. I want to have an address again. I want to be able to go to the grocery store and know where the olive oil is and know that when I buy apples or a toothbrush I am getting charged the same price as everyone else.

Many people have asked if I had any bad experiences. If anything truly terrible or frightening has happened during my solo travels through these "dangerous" countries. A part of me wishes I had something shocking to say, but truthfully and fortunately, I've had far more problems in Austin. I have had more unfortunate events in one of safest cities in the US then Colombia, one of the most dangerous cities in the world.

The last year I lived in Austin I managed to have my car stolen, get accused of insurance fraud, arrested, physically threatened while riding the bus for being queer, and shot in the leg. The worst thing that happened in South America was that I got travelers diarrhea and got in a fight with a Rastafarian because he believed that white people aren't supposed to have dreadlocks.

Things happen.

I think that the grandest lie we ever tried to pass as truth was that people are different. Cultures are different, people are not. People's lives consist of the same things but in different orders. We all struggle, love, desire, need... We have deadlines, routines, chores... We put emphasis on different things, but I feel that it is all relevant because here is there is everywhere... We are all moving at the same speed on this planet but just in different directions. This world is a kaleidoscope of instances. We are all under the same sky just looking at the stars from another angle.

It is summer in December here in Buenos Aires. I feel the sweat pellets underneath my t-shirt and I know that in 10 hrs I will be shivering from the blistering New York
cold, cursing the winter. My priority will be finding a bagel and a nice hot cup of coffee. I want to give the biggest smile to someone who has forgot how and tell a women who looks like she is having a bad day that her shoes look nice with her dress, even if they don't, just because..

I'm not sure if I'll be in New York, Boston, Vermont, Rhode Island or New Orleans for the New Years. I'm not sure how I'm going to get anywhere, but I can worry about that later. If I managed to travel alone and with a limited knowledge of Spanish then I better be able to navigate my way around New York by subway and figure out how to take a bus to Boston. After my time on the northeast I will pass through Mississippi and then onward to Austin. When I will be back is a good question. I'm still trying to figure that out...

I think it is going to take some time before I am able to articulate my experiences. To be able to digest all of the conversations, sensations, and places I've had the opportunity to be a part of. It is safe to say that I have changed, but we all have. We all have traveled in our own way. It doesn't take a plane ticket or a car ride to go to another place. I don't feel like I ever really left, actually. It is because I feel very connected to the people and city of Austin. I guess it is because in the back of my mind I knew that this trip was temporary. That even though I would be gone for months there would be a time I would come back.

It has been great. Really. I don't know what else to say. Traveling is everything you think it would be and not all in the same package. Being gone doesn't mean that you escape routine, either, it just means that you are on a different one. I'm still not done with traveling. Like I said, I will be in New York and various other places before I get back to Austin.

What I have now are fond memories of countries I used to look at on maps. Learning about how other people live has taught me more about how I live. I have learned more about my country by not being in it and this has been incredibly interesting. There are still many places that I want to travel to and experience, but all in good time.

I wish could explain myself better, but right now all I can think about are tacos and Tecate. Right now I need to find my passport and reserve a taxi to the airport.

I can't believe it!!!

I'm going back:)

country bumpkin city slicker

2009-12-07T10:56:00.002-06:00

It has been one month of living in the city of Buenos Aires.
Never thought I would have made it this far:)
But here I am. Another day, another couch, another part of town...

Off to find vegetarian food now because I decided to be a vegetarian again.

It occurred to me this morning:)

what I do for fun

2009-12-04T14:20:00.006-06:00

Contrary to popular belief, backpacker's don't have that much money. We survive off street food, instant coffee, and $1 peso baguettes. We get our entertainment from conversations with homeless people, haggling with taxi drivers, and sitting in parks... Not glamorous at all. But I have discovered the best source of free entertainment.

Going to the grocery store:)

I go down every row (usually 2 or 3 times), never buy anything, and take pictures. Security gets annoyed with me, people think I'm crazy, and old ladies like to ask if I need help.

No gracias. I tell them with a smile.
Estoy solamente mirando.

Today I stumbled across frozen meat patties called Barfy and tampons branded as Enjoy.

Hahahahaha, I love it! My favorite discoveries of the day.

it's here. it's there. it's everywhere!

2009-12-04T10:38:00.003-06:00

One thing I have noticed about Buenos Aires is that they have their fair share of hipsters, too. It is a little more popular with the girls, though. The difference is that here hipsters don't ride fixed-gear bicycles or drink PBR from a can, they drive really small cars called Peugeot and drink a beer called Quilmes. You may find them at the Film Institute & the Andy Warhol exhibit at the MALBA (modern art museum). I discovered all of this yesterday:)

Oh! I almost forgot, they listen to Madonna & The Killers. And that's pretty much it.

Polution, Poverty: The Dirty Secrets of Buenos Aires

2009-12-04T09:24:00.006-06:00

Below is one of the most contaminated rivers in the world. 80% of the pollution is caused by industrial waste (ie. chemical, pharmaceutical and petrochemical units). The neighborhood most effected by this is La Boca as well as the surrounding areas. La Boca was predominately inhabited by Italian immigrants and then became one of Argentina's biggest slums. Due to gentrification the slums got pushed to the otherside of the river (like most do) and La Boca is now known as Buenos Aires most picturesque barrios.

About 4,500 of the residents live in a part of the river valley that has become known as Villa Inflamable, close by a major Shell refinery and other petro-chemical plants. It got its name because if you drop a match, the ground is said to ignite. A study by the Avellaneda municipality and the national government found that 50 % of the children there had lead in their blood, while many also had chrome, toluene and benzene in their urine.

The city of Buenos Aires has tried to make some improvements to the pollution in the area, but since the nearly 3 million people who live around the area represent Argentina's lowest class I don't foresee much happening.

(the dirty river)

(tourist street)

good morning buenos aires

2009-12-03T11:16:00.002-06:00

Last night I slept in a hammock on the roof of someone's place. Woke up to a breeze. We ate eggs and drank instant coffee. No one drinks the real stuff here. Im going to go to the cemetery today. And then to the Japanese garden. The sky looks like a pillow. I want to take a nap under a willow tree. But Im not sure if they got 'em here. We'll see..

The rain hits the ground in the key of G-minor

2009-11-27T10:08:00.012-06:00

At a new place.

It is with a boy and his family in a house across the street from the railroad tracks.

The sky is a purple cough.

Today I took a walk and got rain in my hair. After the lightning lit up the sidewalk I couldn`t help but wonder if the thunder is God`s trombone player?

Up and down city streets and in and out of subways people are moving as quickly as they can to get away from someplace and closer to somewhere else

You may leave from many of places but you cannot leave yourself
I`m learning this.

As the rain hits the ground in a soft death
I notice that some things never change regardless of where you find yourself

Dogs will always sniff strangers.
Babies pee on themselves.
All roses have thorns.
People run for cover in rainstorms.

There are mysteries all around.
Even the explainable has something unfound

that we will never know everything
because if we did we wouldn't learn anything after now

So smile in the silence spent with strangers
grow a garden with fallen stars
dance with your shadow

The sky may be a purple cough and the people may be running for shelter
but I'm gonna make a duet with the thunder

Im going to get the boy I'm staying with to come up to his balcony
so I can ask him,

"what is it about the rain that makes you afraid?"

a few things I´m thankful for

2009-11-26T15:17:00.007-06:00

- journals
- subways
- voting
- wine openers
- vivid dreams
- dictionaries
- roller-ball pens
- choices
- wit
- our president
- strong, black coffee
- maps
- boxerbriefs
- plain t-shirts
- highfives & handshakes
- milkshakes
- Fernet
- mornings
- stary skies
- public transportation
- sneakers
- sex
- dark chocolate
- tattoos
- parks
- hands & feet
- pocketknife
- music
- whiskey, wine, beer
- independence
- bicycles
- generosity
- black & white photography
- jukeboxes
- skeleton keys
- independent grocery stores
- organic & sustainable living
- bookstores
- cinemas
- bonfires
- roofs
- trees
- seasons
- poetry
- trains
- awkwardness
- cities
- country
- accents
- camera angles
- dreadlocks
- traveling
- learning
- fairytales
- card games

The walking wonder

2009-11-26T14:55:00.002-06:00

I met a guy in Uruguay who is walking around the world.

WALKING!!!!!!

Andrej began his trip from his doorstep in Hamburg, Germany when he was 20 yrs old. He has managed to walk completly through Germany, France, Spain, Portugal, Brazil, and now (18 months later) is in Uruguay. Except for obviously flying from Portual to Brazil he has done this all on foot. This means he is a lunatic. A good guy, but a lunatic.

I asked him how long he thinks walking around the world is going to take and he said about 8 years.

Like I said, he is a good guy, but crazy.

Below is his route and blog

http://www.andrej-raider.de/

http://www1.folha.uol.com.br/folha/videocasts/ult10038u570404.shtml

Thanksgiving in Buenos Aires

2009-11-26T08:52:00.003-06:00

Man, I would kill for some sweet potato fries, macaroni & cheese, turkey & dressin´!!

But I guess I´m going to have to settle for beef, wine, and alfajores:)

Heinekens & Sharks

2009-11-25T07:14:00.006-06:00

Out of the week I spent in Uruguay I finally got to have one nice day at the beach. I loaded up my backpack with a few beers, my journal, some crackers, and a book. I walked for about 1hr and 30min before I found a nice secluded spot to sit and watch the waves. The water was too cold to get in, but I made several valiant attempts anyway. The farthest I got was to the kneecap, but I feel like that there was a reason for that. After my last attempt of going for a swim I retreated back to my manmade sand-chair. While reading my book I looked up for a brief second and saw… fins?

Ahhhh, FINS!!!

Not just any fins, but shark fins.

How do I know this?

I don't. But I can definitely tell you it wasn't fucking Flipper the friendly Dolphin or Shamu..

Ferry ride to Uruguay

2009-11-25T07:04:00.001-06:00

It had been one week of complete madness in Buenos Aires. Having diner at midnight, drinking a few beers and cocktails at 1:00am, going out at 2:00am, and then returning to a floor somewhere to sleep once the sun was wide-awake and the buses were rumbling on their normal routine. Back in Austin I used to wake up at 4:30am-- not go out. The schedule of midnight beef and anis flavored Argentine liquor was beginning to get to me.

Although I really do love the city, I felt like a needed a break. Before I even came to South America I had visions of beaches, pina coladas, clear skies, and sunshine. All I wanted to do was sit on the beach, read a book, make a sandcastle cooler for my tall-boys of beer, and nap to the sound of crashing waves. I figured the easiest, quickest, cheapest place for me to do this was Uruguay. I packed up my backpack and headed to the ferry station with only one thing on my mind-- relaxation.

A friend from the States decided to meet up with me in Uruguay because he desperately needs a Visa to Brazil since his flight back to the States leaves December 1st from Rio de Janerio. After failing to get his Visa twice in Chile, and getting turned away three times in Argentina, he decided that his only remaining lifeline was to try his luck in Uruguay.

The terminal to buy tickets looked a little plush just for a three hour ferry ride across the bay. One would think that with all the time they spent deciding where to hang the flat screen televisions and wall art they may would have put up a sign that indicated where to buy a ticket. As I've said before, I have a problem with asking people simple things like directions. The time. Or what line is the one to buy bus tickets?

I used my superior deductive reasoning skills and got in the longest line I saw and waited...

"Are you sure we are supposed to buy tickets here?" My friend, Eric, asked.

"No, but I assume that since this the longest line it must be the one we need."

Eric nodded his head in agreement as he smacked his croissant. The line kept moving in its lethargic manner until half an hour passed
and we were at the beginning.

Necessito dos boletlos por Montevideo, por favor? I asked.

No. Tienes que comprar allí.. He pointed three windows to the left.

Fuck. I should've asked.

It took two hours, and 90 US dollars to get a 3 hour ferry ride to Montevideo. I was livid. It was the most stupid, overpriced process
I have encountered in South America. First, you had to go to a window and get your passport verified. Then you go to another window to double check that your passport was verified. After that you go to another line where nothing happens and then you buy your ticket after you are too annoyed to care that you probably could have flown there cheaper. I could hear the lady grunting like some sort of choking mule as I begrudgingly took my time sorting out my Argentinean pesos.

Things got a lot better once we got on the ferry. Eric and I preoccupied ourselves with the Would you rather game.

If Obama wasn´t president would you rather vote for Bush again or Sarah Palin?

Neither. I´m an anarchist.

Dude, that´s not how to play the game. You gotta choose.

Instead, Eric continues the game and asks me,
Would you rather choke to death or choke someone else to death?

What the fuck?! Neither. This is supposed to be an uplifting game.

After an hour going back and forth and failing at the would you rather game
we both agreed that we would rather not play anymore. We reclined back in our
90$ ferry ride seats and while Eric watched Madonna: Live in Buenos Aires on DVD
I began making a very detailed list of priorities I want to complete once I get back to Austin:

1. Start an underground poker ring
-once a month
- min. $10 buy-ins
- whiskey, cigars, jazz, stouts, suits

2. Become a rockclimber

3. See every Shakespearean play Austin has to offer

4. Find a place to live, and then paint the room no matter what color it may already be.

5. The Exotic 6-Pack Club
- May this endeavor demonstrate my dedication to the advancement of beer by organizing a group of young, promising individuals to surprise each other once a week with some obscure beer that we beer buffs can enjoy one chug at a time.

6. Get a job.

That was as far as I got before the ferry reached the dock.

The look of waiting

2009-11-23T14:02:00.003-06:00

If you were to tally up all of the hours I have spent waiting for buses, on buses, or running after them it would equal up to 27 days and 18 hrs exactly.

Below is what it looks like to wait.

I drink coffee and stare at people.
Quite unexciting to tell you the truth.

new country!!

2009-11-19T22:10:00.002-06:00

I´m in Uruguay!!

This is my 9th country.

First impressions:

1. extrmely green

2. clean

3. small

4. rainy

5. tranquilo

6. mate

7. resort-ish

8. expensive

9. Americanized

can´t go to sleep

2009-11-19T21:34:00.003-06:00

It´s 3:00am. Sleep seems impossible. I shouldn´t have drank so much mate. Just finished reading Sputnik Sweethearts by Murakami. Don´t know what I think about it yet. Listening to a song about a woman made of Mercury now. My mind is racing. There are people downstairs having 100 conversations about the same thing. The ocean is outside. The tide is moving with the moon. I got sand in my ears. Tonight I wanna pretend that I´m sleeping inside a seashell. Tomorrow I don´t want to talk to anyone. I wanna sit Indian-style, in the sand, with a beer. I don´t want to fall asleep before the sun climbs over the clouds. If I do, I want my dreams to have pianos. I want to sleep inside a seashell, dream in silver and ceylon, a thousand pianos will play in the background, the woman made of Mercury will appear, and I will wake to the smell of the ocean, just as the sun stumbles over the clouds.

Just when you think you are beyond surprises-

2009-11-18T21:49:00.010-06:00

You learn that you aren´t. You discover that you are far, far from it.

Remember the time I told you guys about how I stayed at that place where I woke up in a puddle of water swatting bugs from my face?? Well, I went from there to something even more drastic.

Before I get too carried away, let me start from the beginning.

After Cat´s place I ended up staying with this other girl, Malena, who I also met randomly. She, like pretty much every girl in Argentina, was alarminlgy gorgeous. Malena gave me her number and after many failed attempts, she finally met up with Or and I. I think it was the day after the Pride Parade she met us for late night coffee. Over coffee and toastados I found out that this girl speaks 4 languages, lived in nyc last year, lived in Spain the year before last, was moving to Paris in a month, and just got a full scholoarship to the New York Film Institute. At the end of the 2 hour conversation, she casually added that she is only 19 yrs old.

19 years old!! I kept repeating to myself. She has done all of this, can communicate with almost anyone in any hemisphere, interesting, beautiful, and only 19!!

I suddenly felt highly insecure, but I casually sipped my lukewarm coffee in an attempt to camouflage my look of awe and dumbfoundedness that was plastered across my face.

Or really wanted to go to this gay club that night and invited Malena and I to join him. Malena was a little reluctant at first because she had class in the morning, I had no plans, obviously, so agreed. Plus, it was only 25 pesos all you can drink at the bar (this equals to $6 US)!! How could I resist?

Malena finally decided to come after Or´s impressive persuasive techniques. There were loads of people, tons of dancing, great music, and overall a really chill place. But there was one point in the night when I looked over and saw this really creepy guy giving us the deadstare. It was a relentless, completley focused, straining peer of the eyes. At this point, I was tempted to walk over and ask him if I could help him with something, but before I had the chance to Malena pulled my arm in a fright and started to freak out.

What´s wrong? I asked.

Do you see that guy? I know him!

Yeah, well he is creepy. I replied not realizing that was the least bit comforting.

No, you don´t understand he knows my family.

I wasn´t following at all what she was trying to tell me. All I could focus on was how this guy looked like a sleazy used car salesman sipping a gin martini through a straw.

Your family? Is that a problem? I inquired.

No.. Maybe.. I don´t know! It is just that my family is well known around Argentina

As soon as she said this I started choking on my long island tea. It is one thing to say that your family is known in the neighborhood, or that people in the city kind of know who your family is, but to say that the whole country of Argentina is familiar with your face and last name is a bit much!!

My mind immediately began racing. I thought that either her father killed someone important, or that he was a politician.

Now that I think about it, those two aren´t that different afterall.

She ended up going up to that guy and talking to him for about 15 minutes. He left and then everything seemed fine. I didn´t think too much about it, but then my curiosity finally got the best of me.

Sad, but true, I wikipidead the girl´s last name two days later. And to my surprise, her father was much more then just a politican. Her father had been the Minister of Education for the last 3 years (which explains her being able to speak 4 languages fluently) has written many books, AND- most importantly- was 200 votes away from being the President of Argentina in the last election.

In summary, this means that I went from sleeping in bathroom water to sleeping with the daughter of the guy who was almost the president of Argentina!!

This is just more proof that demonstrates that what one imagines can turn out to be a fraction of what actually can occur. Call it luck, coincidence, happenstance, or irony. Call it what you will.

If anyone were to tell me 6 months ago that I would be staying with the girl who was the daughter of the guy who was 200 votes away from being the president of Argentina I would have laughed loudly in their face, and would have told them to try again.

Amazing

2009-11-18T21:32:00.003-06:00

I am certain that the sexiest dance in the world is tango. Particularly, Buenos Aires tango. Two nights ago I went to the Buenos Aires Tango House, got a table and a bottle of wine, spent too much money as usual, but had the time of my life.

Tango is sexy.

If only I had an ounce of dancing ability, I would do it, but sadly the only rhythm I have is located in my fingers and not my feet. I can play just about any song on the guitar, but when it comes to moving my hips and legs I look like a bow-legged giraffe chasing after a tractor.

It is pathetic.

Anyway, it was a 2hr mind-blowing performance that I can´t stop thinking about.

Incredible. Dramatic. Difficult. Captivating. Did I mention sexy??

Cat´s Cradle

2009-11-11T11:49:00.010-06:00

Sometimes, reality proves itself to be greater then what one could ever imagine. And sometimes, imagination works best not by wondering what life would be like with flying goats or an endless supply of dark chocolate or frequent flyer miles, but what life would be like without the little things:
Goosebumps. Bluejeans. Whispers. Rain.

This all occured to me while taking a shower by candlelight. It wasn't because I was trying to get romantic with myself in the bathroom or be creative with different forms of lighting, but because the electricity at our couchsurfer's apartment went caput. Or and I were only supposed to stay 2 nights at Cat's place. Today marks the 7th night we've been here. We have our own set of keys and everything. It feels like home.

I told her that we were coming to Buenos Aires for the Pride Parade and she said, I quote, you sound absoultleyfuckingawesome, stay as long as you want.

I guess I took her literally.

Most people, however, probably wouldn't have lasted one night, let alone 7.
It all depends on what I like to call one's adaptability meter. Over the years,
I've managed to tweak mine to the highest level of tolerance, but I can understand
why some people, like the Austrians who stayed here for only half a day, told Cat
that her place was just a little too exotic and moved to a hostel.

Maybe the decapated babydolls or flying bugs scared them away....

I like to think of the place as having a life of its own. A home with more character and personality then even the most extravagent people. Everyday something happens that surpasses anything I could possibly imagine. Like waking up in a puddle because when the electricity blew out the refrigerator broke and the bathroom flooded. I´m not sure how, but it did. And then realizing how it probably isn´t considered typical for Or and I to sit in the dark of a strange apartment and drink beer just to pass the time. But even though it isn´t normal or sanitary, by even the most lenient of standards, it couldn´t be more appropriate.

I have actually grown quite fond of the place. It is like a street with a roof. And I mean this with upmost respect. I like the dysfunction of everything. The surprise of coming home and finding a wolf vomiting in the floor, or a broken toilet, a disappearing phone, no doorbell.

But more then I enjoy the dilapidation, the poetic ambiances, and artistic qualities of the place- I love the people I´ve met here. Cat, the girl who lives here, is fucking brilliant and so interesting to talk to. This girl has hitchiked all over the world. She has hitched from the Route 40 down in Ushuaia all the way to Canada. She has done her fair share of hitching in France and other parts of Europe, and obviously South America as well. I am amazed by how she speaks English, French, and Spanish as if they are all her 1st language. The things this girl has seen, has done is inspiring.

When I leave, I´m gonna miss the candlelight talks over cheap beer, sleeping in the hammock, and the splish-splash in-between my toes everytime I walk into the bathroom.

And I can´t imagine anything greater then this.

Pride!!

2009-11-10T10:41:00.010-06:00

9 de Julio is the widest street in the world. And over 55,000 people all coming together were able to shut it down, stopping all traffic, for 8 hrs:)

It was the best Pride Parade I´ve ever been to. And I´ve been to many, even San Francisco´s...

I don´t really have much to say but,

WOW.

It was magic.

http://picasaweb.google.com/webmaster.puntoblanco/XVIIIMarchaDelOrgulloLGTBEnLaCiudadDeBuenosAires#5401771683512720578

The quest for The Gay

2009-11-10T09:35:00.009-06:00

After a 24hr bus ride and a bottle of $2 wine, Or and I, my gay Isreali boyfriend that I kidnapped from Bariloche, made it to Buenos Aires!! The bus ride, like all bus rides in South America, was an adventure within itself. It was us and about thirty 10yr olds. I felt a little guilty sitting in the back of the bus passing the bottle of wine between us while the kids starred confused, but hey! What can you do? I needed something to do to pass the time.

I had set us up a place to stay with a couchsurfer, but I got the date wrong so we actually ended up in Buenos Aires a day too early. It wasn´t that big of a problem, Or and I just took the subway downtown and went looking for a hostel for the night.
Where we ended up was the poshest hostel I´ve ever seen. It was like a Gringo resort or something-- filled with plasma screens & computers, it had a lounge bar in the bottom, AND you got a free dinner and a beer every night you stayed. Usually, not my kind of place, but for $40 pesos a night there was no way I was going to say No.

The whole reason Or and I decided to burn our tentative schedule of going to the southest city in the world was because of the Gay Pride Parade. I found out about it a month ago and had been contemplating whether or not going because it was really out of the way. But of coarse, I couldn´t pass up the largest Pride event in all of South America!! It was an opportunity, a responsability, one beautiful romp of a good time to be had! And it became definetly clear that the stars were all in favor of my going once I met Or. It was love at first sight.

When you get to a new city-- especially a very large one-- it is important to get
yourself a map. We decided to wake up, grab some coffee, and hit the streets in search of a map and anything exciting to do. The city was gridlocked. All the people who work the Subway were on protest because the president is an idiot. Or and I managed to walk across 2 different barrios until we found one large tourist information center.

Do you have a map? Or asked.

Sure.

How about any info on the Pride Parade? He added.

On the what?

You know, Pride Parade. The thing where gay people go. He pleasently informed.

Hmmm, I didn´t know we had that.

What?!! And you work at the tourist center?!! Here, honey, I´ll make you a sign to put in the window. It´s important we get the word out.

After Or educated the lady at the tourist information center we were a little discouraged about how this could be. Did we get the dates wrong? Does Buenos Aires actually have that big of a Pride Parade? Had we been lied to?!!

We took the streets.

We need to find a gay map. Or said.

They have those?

What do you mean do they have those? Of coarse! Tel Aviv has like 3 of them. Don´t you have them in the States

Dunno. I live in Texas.

He gave me a sad look.

After 15 blocks of wandering around we managed to end up in the Recoleta cemetary. Oddly enough, however, we found another info center who we hopped would have more information.

Frusterated and tired, Or marches up and knocks on the window. An old lady looks up from her newspaper and smiles. I´m thinking the poor lady is going to know less then the young one.

Hey! Do you have any info on gay spots of Buenos Aires?

After a 2 minute stare-over of the both of us she smiles and says
Gay for you?

Yes, doesn´t matter, gay for anyone.

The old lady pulls out a map and after each place she marks with her cute red pen she says,

You can find the gay here. and the gay here. and I think this place has the gay.

I about pissed myself from laughing so hard. Here we were, in the middle of a cemetary, talking to an old lady about pride events, who keeps referring to everything as the gay.

There better be more then one person at this parade. He said.

Don´t worry-- it´s going to be huge. I tried to comfort him.

What do you wanna do now?

Let´s go to the gay coffeeshop the lady recommended.

Both laughing, we walked, and it began to rain.

Pauses

2009-11-09T12:12:00.007-06:00

When I think about what all has happened in the past 2 weeks I feel exhausted.
No. More then exhausted, more like I´ve been walking around with a bag of stars on my back so bright and heavy my shoulders are bruised and glowing.

It is a hardbliss.

All the things one sees, and doesn´t. The parts we enlarge and then reduce down to a fraction. I remember reading an interview with Georgia O´Keefe in which she was asked why she always painted flowers so big? Why did she feel it was necessary? And she responded,

I hate flowers. Most people in the city rush around so, they have no time to look at a flower. I want them to see it whether they want to or not.

This illustrates so much. We have a tendency to be so busy that the rush swallows us whole, and by the end of the day, we wonder where all the hours went. We miss the freckles. The floating questions. The clouds. The puddles. The hours will always go by. Afterall, the day you are born is the first day you start dying. I have to remind myself that no matter how much I want to do and accomplish I can´t do it all. Argentina is teaching me that it is okay to sit in a park. I can just sit! It is amazing!! And it isn´t laziness, it is being human. It is taking in your surroundings and enjoying the spot that you are in. Everything can be enlarged, reduced, or pushed aside. I´m loving the small things. For instance, I was having a conversation with this Argentinean girl at a coffeeshop. She is studying film at the University and so we started talking about the difficulty of writing screenplays. She was working on one and told me that she liked going to cafes or parties and just listening to what people talk about. As we were having a conversation about conversations it occured to me that perhaps, the most important thing to listen to is not just the words or topics, but the pauses. The things that are said in those small fractions of silence. The way people fidget with their pockets, or clean the dirt from their nails with the tips of pencils. The squints, the blinks, when people crack their knuckles, look up to the stars or stare at the concrete.

Today, I´m going to look at flowers.

2009-11-09T12:11:00.001-06:00

Posted some more pics & more to come!!

http://photobucket.com/buena_suerte_lacey

(these are mainly from Pride Parade)

so much in so little time

2009-11-09T11:48:00.004-06:00

BUSY BUSY BUSY!!!

will update soon. so much keeps happening. i have no idea where to start..

makes me smile

2009-11-04T11:20:00.003-06:00

Just got to Buenos Aires.. Have only been here for 3 hours. In love with the city.

And found out while registering to volunteer that 45000 to 55000 people are expected to march at this years Marcha Orgullo LGTBQ parade.

http://www.brandongayday.com.ar/principal.htm

http://www.marchadelorgullo.org.ar/

Quick summary

2009-11-03T10:37:00.003-06:00

= I climbed a glacier. Yes, a glacier..

= Stayed in a hostel that brews their own beer and grows their own food

= Got stuck in a rainstorm, on top of a mountian, wearing jeans & a t-shirt. Know what this is?? Fucking cold

= Haven´t spoken any English in 5 days (This is impressive because even though I am in a Spanish speaking country many, many people speak English) I consider this an impressive feat.

= I trespassed into the Huapi National Park and was almost struck in the head with a falling boulder. I guess those danger signs actually are there for a reason

= Rented a car with a guy from Ireland, Scotland, Isreal, Argentina, and Thailand and drove with the windows rolled down into the mountains while all humming to Bob Dylan and gangsta rap

= Made the best damn hamburgers for 10 people

= Ate all the chocolate I bought for my Grandmom.

= I blame it on all the beer I drank at the bar around the corner

= Finished reading The History of Love. Even though it has the lamest title
in the history of literature, it is worth reading. I recommend it-- a lot.

= Bought a bottle of wine, in which I plan to drink it all on the 24hr hour bus ride to Buenos Aires while I listen to Regina Spektor and pretend that I´m flying.

these days, it just keeps rotating

2009-11-03T09:32:00.004-06:00

Made it to Bariloche after I left Chile and and haven´t really left the area. It is truly a wonderland here. Not necessarily the city of Bariloche, which is kind of like Aspen, Colorado, but the scenery. So many mountains, lakes, green trees.. The faint smell of firewood, tobacco, cold on your face with the sun shinning down.

Just been waking up, making mate and walking. Walking. It really is my favorite thing about traveling. Walking. In no direction. I take a left, I take 2 rights, I follow a river, or walk up to the base of a mountain, or into a pub. I go through neighborhoods where some wave and ask me how I am or where others stare and wonder if I´m lost. Perhaps. But you can only be lost if you have a specific destination.

First rule of traveling: Never have a specific destination. You miss things if you do.

Second rule: Don´t have plans; have possabilites.

Which brings me to what I thought I was doing, but am not anymore. Well, at least for the time being. Oringinelly, I was going to be in Bariloche for 3 nights, El Bolson for 2, then take a bus to the heartland of the Patagonia, and finally make it to the world´s most southern city.

Instead.

In one hour I will be on a bus to Buenos Aires (a 24hr bus ride complelty on the otherside of the country) to work at the largest Gay Pride Parade in South America. Accompaning me is my new best friend-- Or Factor-- that is his birthname. He is from Isreal and I dressed him up as one sexy woman in a black dress, balloons for breasts, and red lips for Halloween.

1st stop in Patagonia

2009-10-26T16:21:00.000-06:00

and it is rain, rain, rain :(
Ahhhh! so frusterating because all I wanna do is go climb some mountians!!

Today

2009-10-25T10:02:00.002-06:00

Marks my 6th month of being out of the USA.

That is 45 weeks.
181 days.
4344 hours.

And I´m about to buy a beer, get on a boat, and go to some island I thumbtacked on a map to celebrate.

Bon voyage

A bottle of wine & a motel 6

2009-10-21T18:19:00.013-06:00

Before I left the US there were 2 things I absolutely despised:
1. avocados
2. tomatoes

It is 7:42pm somewhere in God knows where Chile and I am in a sleazy motel eating avocado & tomato sandwiches. A bottle of wine is one my right and a 6 pack of beer is on my left and on the TV in front of me is John McCaine talking
about who knows what because today is my 5th month and 27th day of being out of the United States. God bless! Before I got to Talca (the wine country of Chile) I was in Valparaiso staying with someone I met on the streets. This was not my original plan. At first, I was going to stay with this artist/vegan couple I met on couchsurfing. They seemed like the kind of people I could spend hours with talking about the symposiums of Plato, how ironic it is that the water in our bodies is the same as the amount of water found on earth, how heartbeats mimic the rhythm of Mozart, and the scientific reason behind rainbows.

I was in one of those kind of moods.

But when I got off the bus from Santiago and tried to call them for directions there was an old woman on the other end which led me to believe that I either wrote down the wrong number or they just don't exist. While I waited in the bus terminal trying to figure out what to do, this girl I met in La Paz, Bolivia came strolling in. We used to eat pancakes together and talk about politics and the confusion we both face in bus terminals. She was great!

Agnes.

That is her name. She was supposed to only be traveling for 10 months and ended up being gone for 1 year and 7 months. When I saw her in the bus terminal I asked her what she was doing here and she told me that she had fallen in love with a boy from Valpo and had been living here for 1 month & 15 days, but she needed to buy a bus ticket to Buenos Aires because her flight back to Sweden was leaving in 10 days. I thought this was hilarious since she told me over pancakes in La Paz that she
had a boyfriend in Sweden and also that she has fallen in love in each country she has been to. Hahah, 21 yr old women....

While we were talking, however, this girl overheard that I didn't have a place to stay and invited me over. It turned out that she was on couchsurfing!! I ended up saying goodbye to Agnes (for like the 3rd time) and left with Tati the girl in the bus terminal) and her friend. Tati spoke a little bit of English, her friend only spoke Chilean Spanish, and I am now bilingual in two languages-- English and Mississippi Spanish.. Wanna know what the problem is with Mississippi Spanish?? It is even more difficult to understand then Mississippi English.

So off we go through the streets of Valpo.. I thought we were going to Tati's house for me to drop off my backpack, but instead, I found myself in a gymnasium amidst a girl's basketball game. Hallelujah!! It has been years since I've been to a girls basketball game. Tati told me that her friends played for the University of Arequippa and she promised them that she'd come to all of their games that weekend since it was a big tournament. I can't express how much fun it was watching girl's basketball. For nearly 7 years I played competitive basketball for too many leagues to count so it was a blast watching them. It was a little unusual, though, because in the US girl's college basketball is ferocious. Here, even though it was college basketball, it felt like I was watching a high school game at best. It is just a vastly different pace then how games are played in the United States. Tati's friends team was clearly the best, though. They slaughtered every team they played against. One game, the score was 112 to 33. It was murder!!

After the game, I hopped on a bus to Vina del Mar to Tati's apartment. I took a nap and then awoke to the smell of black tea and baked bread. She then asked me if I wanted to go to a gay bar with her and her friend Sebastian.. I thought I had awoken in one glorious dream.

First, I had no place to stay,
second, I have a place to stay and am now watching girl's basketball
third, I awake to tea and bread
fourth, gay bar!

Sure! I'd love to go, I told her.

30min later her friend Sebastian was knocking on the door. He spoke perfect English and looked like a cross between Ben Aflick and George Clooney-- strange combination, but seriously an attractive guy.

He poured all three of us one stiff glass of pisco and cola and then we hopped in his car and went to the gay bar.

Generally, I hate gay bars, but this one wasn't too bad. The music was awesome and the drinks were cheap. The people, however, were a bit unspectacular.. But hey, I had a great time!!

The following day I just walked around Valpairso. I took the bus to the port and walked everywhere imaginable. The city was reminiscent of like a condensed version of San Francisco or Seattle or something. It was a city built on a bay. Vibrant colors. A plenitude of suburbs carved into the rolling hills. Loads of street graffiti and a large gay scene. I wanted to stay more time in Valpairiso, but I really need to make it to Patagonia before the weather conditions get too bad for me to travel there, so I only got to stay 2 nights:(

Which leads me to where I am now.

Talca, Chile.

Where is Talca?? I don't fucking know...

But even though the place I am in is a bit shady, my room has a private bath, which is awesome since the last place I showered was somewhere between Bolivia and Argentina... Gross, I know, but when you are sleeping in bus terminals you are a little limited when it comes to luxuries like faucets and hot water..

Tomorrow I'm getting the hell out of here and making my way south to the Patagonia. Can't wait to climb glaciers and camp next to polar bears

here

2009-10-18T15:30:00.007-06:00

I made it to Santiago today!!

Woke up with the sun. Went to all the museums. Saw a Chilean movie with no subtitles. Took a a nap in the park. Listened to the wind, and dogs. Watched the people holding hands, and kids eating ice cream. Drank espresso and wrote until my hand cramped up. Threw away my map of the city and got lost because I thought it was a good idea. Felt the cold through my shirt. Felt the sun struggle through the clouds. Walked with my hands in my pockets. Hummed songs to myself that don't have names. Made shapes with the clouds. Traced the graffiti I found with my fingers. Thought about voices I haven't heard in months. Thought about colors. Closed my eyes and saw silhouettes and airplanes. Opened my eyes and continued to walk, just me and my shadow. No direction to go because there is everywhere.

We are all standing somewhere that someone else wants to be.

bikes & wine

2009-10-18T14:33:00.006-06:00

So I did it.

The infamous wine rendezvous through Mendoza valley, but instead of doing a wine tour, I decided to rent a bicycle. It has been too long since I've ridden a bicycle drunk ;) There are actually many places you can rent bicycles in Mendoza, but no place has been mentioned more then Mr. Hugo.

Friday afternoon I hopped on a bus at 10:00am and headed to Mr. Hugo's place so I could start my wine tasting early. He was a super nice guy who had loads of bikes and maps to direct me where to go. There were 10 wineries listed but everyone I've met who has done the bike and wine experience told me that it is damn near impossible to go to every one, not because they are far apart, but because you get completely smashed. Nahhhh. I thought. All of those people must be lightweights. I'm a 6ft tall, Mississippi bred, whiskey drinkin' heavyweight. A glass of wine at each winery isn't going to do anything but help me sleep.
What I found out is that each place doesn't give you just a sample of wine, but instead 3 or 4 glasses!
(The picture below was my first tasting.)

Despite what everyone said, I did manage to make it to every bodega on the list. No one, however, gave me more wine then Mr. Hugo. I got back to his place around 4:00pm after getting a little lost. I ended up biking about 5 km out of the way, but it was good exercise. When I got back there were 4 other people sitting outside drinking more wine. I sat down with a couple from Australia who were traveling around the world for 2 years while Mr. Hugo came over and filled up my glass. I'd finish my cup and then he'd come fill it up. I'd finish another cup and then he'd come again and fill it up with a grin. After about 4 cups of delicious Syrah from the generous Mr. Hugo I had to tell him

No mas, por favor!!

and then he would chuckle and ask

Por que? No quieres mas? while filling up everyone's cups again.

I was beginning to wonder if he would ever run out of wine!!

It wasn't until 8:00pm when everyone managed to stumble out of their chairs and stagger onto the bus headed back towards town. I was supposed to go to a birthday party when I got back with a friend I met on couchsurfing, but instead I ended up puking in the street and then retiring to bed. No more wine for me. Well, at least for today:)

guess who I saw yesterday??

2009-10-18T14:30:00.004-06:00

Mr. Al Gore.

He was doing a presentation about the importance of protecting the environment at the University of Mendoza, and I just happened to be in the neighborhood.

Can´t wait!

2009-10-13T19:32:00.001-06:00

Tonight I leave to Mendoza and am looking forward to renting a bicycle and cycling to all the vineyards.

YAYYY!!

Oktoberfest!!

2009-10-13T19:21:00.003-06:00

Friday I went to Argentina´s Oktoberfest and witnessed many Argentineans chug beer and eat sauerkraut. The only bad thing about this is that when Argentineans get drunk they get really flirtatious. The whole night I had to keep repeating no es posible to every guy that came up to me. It got a bit annoying and exhausting. However, it was Oktoberfest!!! And loads of good fun:)

Guess what today is??

2009-10-12T08:35:00.003-06:00

Christopher Colombus Day &

MY BIRTHDAY :)

I am 23.

Woooohooooo!!

Isn´t strange how fast the days change??

Tex-Mex in Argentina

2009-10-07T10:50:00.004-06:00

After staying 2 weeks with some of the most amazing & generous people I've ever met I decided to show my gratitude by making comida tipico of Texas.

Tacos!!!

And I must confess,

I'm a pretty damn good cook. Before I decided to study English I was going to move to Rhode Island and go to culinary school.

what's progressive about Argentina.. and what's not

2009-10-06T10:17:00.005-06:00

Some interesting facts about Argentina.

1. Argentina is 1 of 8 countries that currently has a female president.
Cristina Fernandez is her name, the wife of former Argentinean president, Carlos Saúl Menem

2. Argentina has a free healthcare system. Anyone, anytime is able to go to the doctor and get the attention and care they need.

3. All education is free. This means that every person is eligible to attend any university in Argentina. They have the opportunity to study anything they want from art to medicine without fear of having to pay back thousands of dollars in student debt as soon as they graduate.

4. Homosexuality in Argentina has been legal since 1887. Argentina recognizes all same-sex relationships and some say that Argentina might be one of the next countries to legalize gay marriage, thanks to the activism in cities like Buenos Aires, Cordoba, and Rosario.

[It wasn't until 2003 before homosexuality was legalized in every state in the USA. Guess what the last state was?? Texas.]

One can see that Argentina is highly progressive and liberal on many issues. However, there is one thing that they are conservative about-- Abortion. It is strictly prohibited. I found this out by stumbling onto a Pro-Choice rally:)

Inspiring.

rosario

2009-10-05T08:16:00.006-06:00

For the past 3 weeks I've been here.

Rosario, Argentina.

Watching the city at sunset from an island with locals.

and spending the rest of my days visiting art museums so I can witness art like the one above. A cage full of parakeets pooping on a painting that depicts the Crusades.

It is all smiles from here :)

more pics here
http://photobucket.com/buena_suerte_lacey

2009-10-04T08:28:00.003-06:00

Argentina, you gotta glow.

Let go

2009-10-01T08:52:00.003-06:00

And some have this habit of looking out windows and calling it impossible
they look forward to sleeping so they can escape these feelings
hug pillows, tight, and dream of
letting go..

If I could paint a picture of all I could never hold in my hands
I'd name it possible and jump from this earth
I'd somersault with the wind
put the dirt in my pockets and sail to the Arctic
so I could show the Eskimos that you can build castles out of anything

People need hope.
every non-believer believes in something

So doctor, explain to me sunset because I know you felt it as a boy
Captain, do you notice the mermaids
while you are steering the ship to some other land
Mathematician, does your heart unwind at the pages of certain books like a problem you can't solve

We consists of science and things that can't be explained by it,
the world is not a foreign place;
we are foreign to it

it spins and spins and spins
while we wait and wait and wait

looking out of windows wishing for our chance to jump
because so many of us have responsibility tied to our ankles
we clipped our wings years ago
buried the pages of fables
put away our crayons the moment we got our driver's license
blocked out our imaginations with our big words and plans for the future
but the future is just an excuse for you not to do incredible
things with your life right now..

the minutes are ticking....

moments build up on themselves.
Our memories are what shape our visions

windows are here for you to know that other places exists on the otherside of them
open the door
unbutton your blouse and feel the wind on your chest
sleep on your roof tonight so you can hear the heartbeat of the stars

that beat because someone, somewhere is on the otherside of them wishing

you don't have to wait until tomorrow to go to the edge of the earth
you don't have to wait until you are in your bed clutching your pillow tight sleeping
you don't have to wait until you are dreaming
before you let go...

at the moment

2009-09-30T12:04:00.004-06:00

Living in Rosario, Argentina at the moment with 2 local guys, 2 German hitchhikers on a two year hiatus, and an Israeli girl who just fled the army. Tonight we are watching movies from each country and I'm going to make cornbread to go along with our wine.

good luck

2009-09-28T16:41:00.005-06:00

While walking in the beautiful city of Rosario I came across one gorgeous girl and one sabotaging bird. That's right.. Sabotaging bird. She was cute and alone sitting on a bench in the park and I was standing at the corner debating whether or not I should go up to her and ask if I was going the right way to the river. I was getting nervous just thinking about it so I decided I was going to walk away until she looked up an smiled. I then cleared my throat and was practicing what I was going to ask in my head. The truth is, I do this in English, but Spanish is even worse..

¿Qué tal? ¿Dónde está el río?"
¿Qué tal? ¿Dónde está el río?"
¿Qué tal? ¿Dónde está el río?"

And then I felt something on my face. Bird shit. More like pterodactyl, large flying thing in the sky, shit.. This seagreen & white toothpaste colored poop somehow managed to fall right between my eyes and roll down my nose. The street had loads of folks causally strolling down the boulevard, the sky was absent of everything, and I was on the way to practice my Mississippi backwoods Spanish with a pretty girl until the diarrhea bird came along and ruined everything! I'm not sure if the girl on bench saw exactly what had happened since the poop blindsided me. I immediately raised my hand in one swift ninja motion, wiped it off my face with my sleeve, and continued walking like nothing ever happened hoping that it is true what they say about birds pooping on you-- it means good luck--- and I'm gonna need it real soon. Just checked my bank account.. Now that's a funny sight to see....

The Dread Mullet

2009-09-25T11:45:00.003-06:00

Let me introduce you to a little something called the Dread Mullet

Last night I went to a few bars with some locals and got approached by a guy who just had a mullet. I was already a bottle of wine and 3 cocktails gone to the wind when this guy asked me if he could have one of my dreadlocks. Believe it or not, I've gotten asked this question several times by people from all over. I always politely decline peoples request because I think it is fucking strange, but last night I thought why not?! The guy takes out his scissors and before I know it my favorite dreadlock is now a knub sticking out the top of my head! He then gets his friend to tie my one long blond dreadlock into his short, dark, Argentinean mullet.

It was a very sad moment, but I can't help but laugh when I think about how somewhere in Argentina there is a guy who has one of my dreads tied into his mullet...

weird.. werid.

This is what I've been doing with my life..

2009-09-24T15:25:00.003-06:00

wasting it away here

For the past 5 days I've been in Cafayete, Argentina. The Mendoza of the north, this beautiful little wine country is a place I gleefully did nothing in but drink wine and eat empanadas. It is the only place in the world where the Torrontes grape is grown, a grape used to make the most refreshing & well-rounded white wine I've ever tasted. The Bonardo grape is also grown in Cafayete. I bought a case of both of them from Nanni--the oldest bodega in Cafayete, as well as the only organic winery in the region. During a wine tour I was told that the US imports 60% of the wine from Cafayete while they keep the rest. The difference in buying it here as opposed to the States is that it is about $30 bucks cheaper:)

lost in translation

2009-09-22T07:59:00.004-06:00

These are my two favorite poorly translated signs

These are my two favorite poorly translated signs

Let me backtrack a bit

2009-09-22T06:48:00.007-06:00

This morning I woke up and realized that I never posted anything about my favorite part of Bolivia- Salar de Uyuni!!

Let me backtrack a bit...

Salar de Uyuni, the largest salt flats in the world, has been the most surreal piece of landscape I've seen. Roughly the size of Connecticut, this completely desolate plot of land looks like snow and ice, but is actually the remains of a former great lake. Wow!!

The only way to get there is by a tour, unfortunately, but luckily our guide Edgar was awesome! It was 3 days of waking up at 5:00am in the bone-cutting cold and cruising around the salt flats and the incredible area around it. It is seriously one endless blanket of salt. The people in this area of Bolivia use this salt for everything from cooking to building homes and making toys for their kids.

About 45minutes further down from where the salt flats begin there is this bizarre island of cacti. There were hundreds of cacti all in the middle of a salt island with some dating back to 1200 years and being over 100 meters tall!

There were lagoons, flamingos, geysers, volcanoes, canyons, poisonous lakes etc... all within this 200km radius. Things that scientist have been trying to explain and speculating about for decades!

And there were things I was trying to explain like Why are there gigantic llamas made out of salt? And why is it that I'm always going to places where I have to sleep in all of my clothes as well as under 2 sleeping bags & alpaca wool because it is so damn cold everywhere? Or why is it that people from Europe want to bicycle to the salt flats in the middle of the road so they can get ran over by a tour jeep??

Yep. That almost happened. On the last day our driver was speeding along desolate salt earth, and then, as we cross over the hill there were 3 hippie bicyclist with all their gear strolling along in the middle of the road. We would of ran over all three if Edgar, with his mouth full of coca leaves, jolted the wheel to the left, the hippies jumped to the right, and Edgar's chewed coca leaves went everywhere! No one was hurt, but I think everyone was a little pissed off. Edgar was speaking what seemed to be Quechua swear words, the hippies were giving dumbfounded stares and lifted middle fingers, so I decided my job was to translate what each one was gesturing to the other.

I turned to Edgar and said The hippies think you are a reckless driver.

I then walked over to the hippies and asked if they were okay and then proceeded to give them a lecture on the etiquette of cycling.

What the hell guys?!! I asked. You can't cycle in the middle of a road where tour jeeps go and are notorious for driving crazy, and furthermore, you need a flag attached to the back of your bike so people can see you! I felt like a minivan driving soccer mom lecturing her kids about seat belt safety or something.. It was strange. But there is nothing that bothers me more then people who don't know how to ride bicycles or drivers who don't know how to drive around them.

After I calmed down Edgar and lectured the hippies I got back into the jeep and we drove off while the hippies tried to get back on their bikes and continue their 1 year of cycling across S. America (one guy actually started in San Francisco, California, cycled all through Mexico, Central America, and finally made it to Bolivia..)

It was an 8 hr. drive back to Uyuni, in which I slept the whole time until I had to make Edgar stop so I could go pee behind a cactus. We got back to Uyuni around 5:00pm which was just enough time for me to buy a train ticket to the Bolivian border, then hop on another 7hr bus, get checked by Argentinian officials across the border, then hop on another 7hr bus into Salta. Total driving time= 30hrs. Finally made it to Salta, but that is a whole other story.... :)

learning new things everyday

2009-09-21T14:54:00.005-06:00

It seems strange going from a country with toilets like this

to a country with bathrooms like these.

And it wasn't until today that I found out that what I've been washing my hands in is not some strange Argentinean sink placed in an odd location, but a French bidet. My friend had to explain to me that these are used to wash your ass; not hands. Ohhhhhh...

There are just some things they don't teach you in Mississippi...

very important thing to know...

2009-09-18T21:03:00.002-06:00

before you visit a country (especially for a long period of time) check to see if they operate on the same electrical system as you because if you don´t you could be stuck with a dead IPOD, computer, and camera like me!!!

Yep. Argentina & Chile operate on an European electrical system. Didn´t know that. And now I have a bag full of dead battery electronics. Simply marvelous..

ARGENTINA!!

2009-09-18T20:58:00.002-06:00

I am in Argentina!!!!

Already, I feel like I can fall in love with this place all too quickly

need new pages

2009-09-18T20:27:00.009-06:00

Bye Bye Bolivia..

2009-09-18T19:39:00.002-06:00

After spending 22 days in Bolivia I feel like I´ve seen & experienced enough of the country to sum it up with my Highs & Lows:

HIGHS

1. Adventure Brew Hostal!! (awesome beer, free all-you-can-eat pancakes, and hot showers.. what more can one ask for??!!)

2. Meeting amazing travelers

3. Street food lady in La Paz (you could get sausage hotdogs the size of an infant´s forearm with hot sauce for less then .80cents- yummmmm:)

4. Sucre! (favorite city in all of Bolivia)

5. Potosi mine tour (interesting & extremely difficult)

6. Going to the Pampas and encountering loads of wildlife

7. Insanely CHEAP!!!!

8. The mountain town of Sorata

9. Salar de Uyuni (the most phenomenal landscape I´ve seen)

________________________

LOWS

1. No grocery stores (some wouldn´t percieve this as a bad thing, but you could of seen the food I had to eat you´d wish you´d have the option of buying your own food & making it also:)

2. Nothing was ever opened. Ever..

3. The food:( just simply uneventful & often rotten

4. People were less friendly & mostly just seemed annoyed

5. COLD ALL THE TIME

6. Had to pay $135 bucks for a Visa to visit basically because their current president Avo Morales used to be a coca farmer and the US has something called The War on Drugs

7. vacancy of ATMS (literally only 2 cities in the entire country have themÑ La Paz & Sucre)

8. Enhaling sulfuric arsenic acid ember shit from both the Potosi mines & La Paz

9. EVERYTHING had to be a tour, and I hate tours

10. LA PAZ!!!! My least favorite city I´ve ever been. It is cold, heavily polluted, dodgy, too much drugs & nothing to do:(

My Overall opinion of Bolivia

Bolivia is one spectacular & beautiful country. One with loads of possability which is why it is so sad that it is by far the poorest country in all of S. America. Its history is lush and rich, one filled with colonization & conquerorization, one that is grounded in the indigenous way of life, educated in one aspect, however, heavily handicapped in others. It seems illogical to me how Bolivia contains the most natural resources in all of S. America yet is the poorest. The reason is because once Bolivia extracts their natural resources they export them to get refined in other countries and then buy them back (at a discounted rate) refined. The problem is that a raw material is worth far less then a refined one. The solution seems easy.. Why doesn´t Bolivia just build their own refinery for their oil, silver, etc?? The problem with this is that it is exensive. Bolivia doesn´t see that in the long-run the benefit of building one would greatly outweigh the intitial cost.

Bolivia has been one great, beautiful ball of confusion. I like the country, but it seems a bit self-defeatist. Perhaps my perspective is a bit jaded since I am from the States. I definelty felt a little more annomsity here with me being an American then from the other countries I´ve traveled to. The frusteration is understandable since Bolivia is the 2nd largest grower of the coca plant and the US has sent planes over in the past in an attempt to terminate certain coca plantations. My advice to both countries would be this: Bolivia build a freaking refinery! And give up on this War on Drugs the US-- it´s silly ;)

more to come

2009-09-15T16:06:00.002-06:00

Literally just got back from Salar de Uyuni and am about to board a 9hr train to the Bolivian boarder, then hop on a 5hr bus into Argentina, and then finally get on an 8hr bus which will take me to Salta!!

More pics and stories to come after I finish traveling on jeeps, trains, and buses.

But now I think it may be a good idea to find a decent bottle of wine to accompany me on my longggg train ride. Nothing like getting a little drunk before crossing boarders;)

the mines

2009-09-12T15:09:00.004-06:00

Went to Potosi for 2 days because I wanted to check out the notoriously dangerous mines. And yep.. they were exactly that. Dangerous. I went with a former miner who took us deep inside the silver mines and saw what these miners have to endure each and everyday. The most alarming thing was how difficult it is to breathe in the mines. Since Potosi is considered the highest city in the world (4,100m) it is difficult enough to breathe just standing still.

Inside the mines are very hot, and there are some people who actually work complelty naked because of the heat. The soot and dust don´t help with breathing eiither. I was down there for about 4hrs and when we finally made it out I had complelty lost my voice. Not because I was yelling, but because of all the soot and silver dust shit that I inhaled. My throat burnt from the chemicals and my skin still smells like sulfur.

Most, if not all, of the miners drink 96% pure grain sugar alcohol, chew mouthfulls of coca leaves, and look at Playboy sometime during the day while they are working just to escape how awful it is down there. The jobs consists of hammering, carrying loads of minerals/silver on their backs, or igniting the dynamite... Some workers are even as young as 7 yrs old. It was really interesting and shocking to see what some of these people wake up to everyday just so they can feed their families.

All I know is that I hope I never have to work in a mine. 4hrs down there was enough.

(this is a picture of my hands when I got out of there)

photos from the Pamapas

2009-09-06T07:45:00.002-06:00

Just posted a ton of new photos from my trip to the Pampas. Forgive me for my lack of labeling them, but it isn't too difficult to tell the difference between the anaconda and the crocodiles:)

http://photobucket.com/buena_suerte_lacey

conversating with crocodiles

2009-09-05T08:52:00.009-06:00

Supposedly, La Paz is home to the world's most dangerous road. Supposedly, this road can only be visited by mountain bike.

This is a lie.

La Paz does have the world's most dangerous road, however, mountain bike isn't the only way to see it.. It can can accessed by a double-decker city bus on the 22 hr drive to Rurrenabaque, Bolivia. There have been several near death experiences I've had traveling on South American buses so far, like the time in Ecuador when we ran into a wild animal and busted the fuel tank, almost drove off the cliff in Peru, but this was another encounter where it seemed just as threatening. Especially, when the roads are mere mud and gravel pits with open holes, about as wide as spaghetti noodles with no definite lane so everything is on-coming traffic, and guardrails are about as foreign as toilet seats. You'd think that driving around mountains with a 4,000 meter drop would be at least be paved. Ha!! Forget about it..

Since the drive is insanely long there is only one bus that leaves at 11:00am. I get to the bus terminal at 10:30am and buy my ticket wait for the bus. And wait.. And wait.. 8 conversations with 8 different people I finally get told that the bus is running late. Well no shit I want to say to everyone who enlightened me with this useless bit of information, but instead I wait on the curb with some guy trying to sell me a camouflage hat while I eat my day-old Indian curry. 2 hrs later the bus finally arrives and I aboard with everyone else for the Pampas (Savannah wetlands).

The drive was breathtaking. The snow mountains close enough to touch, the sky the color of cold charcoal, the clouds rolling over the purple sun, and then just droning off to sleep by the racket of spinning tires on loose, rickety gravel. Although my knees were scrunched in-behind the seat of the 4ft tall woman who decided to recline her seat all the way back, I wouldn't have traded my spot with the view for nothing.

About 5hrs into the drive we all get asked off the bus while the police search everyone for drugs. Great I think. Even though I never have anything I'm always the one who gets asked the most questions. But this time was different, the police officer just asked

Le gusta Bolivia?

Claro! I replied with glee as I got back on the bus.

The Cordillera Real is the major mountain range that Bolivia has. On one side of the mountains it is dry and cold, on the other side is one damp, humid, sweat swamp with a plethora of wildlife. The climatic change is not shy. I went from layered sweaters and long socks on the bus to stripping down to just my undershirt and windpants as soon I got to Rurrenabaque at a shocking 4:45am the next day.

The thing I hate about traveling in these countries is that if you want to see anything you pretty much have to join a tour which means as soon as you get off the bus, even if it is 4:45am, people will bombard you with

Hola! I have tour. ¿Habla Español? Mas barrato para mi amiga... Ven! Ven! I have...

No gracias. No necessito, ahora.. I politely respond when all I want to say is I just got off a 22 hr bus ride and you are blocking my way to take a piss..

Anyway, long story short, I tag along with 4 German dudes and a French couple for three nights in the Pampas. It is about 3hr off-road adventure in a 1988 Land Rover driven by a guy who would make a phenomenal getaway driver. Off we go slashing through mud, barreling along loose gravel and rocks the size of footballs. The road was barely visible due to the dust and we almost ran over 3 people on motorcycles. It reminded me of driving the backroads of Mississippi..

After the drive we hopped in a little speedboat and cruised another 3 hrs down the Beni river to camp. The Beni is basically a shallow, muddy, swamp filled with caymans, exotic birds, piranhas, and the infamous pink dolphins. It was really incredible to be surrounded by so much wildlife, but what wasn't thrilling was to be swimming in a thick pool of my own sticky sweat.

We got to camp late in the afternoon just in time for an early dinner and some beers. I stayed up talking with the German fellows for awhile until our guide Angelo told us to get some rest because we were going to go anaconda hunting in the morning..

The morning came as hot as a flame and was about as thick as southern molasses. The sweat dripped off my face like cheap wax as we followed Angelo through swamp land while he ate a doughnut and explained absolutely nothing about what exactly lives out in this crocodile & anaconda dangerland. After about 45minutes of following Angelo we ended up in this mossy area where he told us that this is where we can find anacondas and then walked off. Our amazing maestro of a guide, Angelo, literally leaves us white people out in the middle of a swamp to find anacondas on our own while he goes to sit under a tree! Here I am, in the middle of a murky reptile pond with water passed my knees looking for anacondas! The only thing I can think about is What the hell am I gonna do when I find a &#*^$* anaconda?!?

It occurs to me then that this is completely stupid. Luckily, everyone else formed the same conclusion so we huddle back into our little Gringo circle and instead of searching for anacondas we decided to go searching for Angelo since we didn't know where the hell we were!

We find Angelo and he says that since we aren't having any luck with anacondas we can go find poisonous cobras. Just when I think what we are doing can't get any dumber, it does.. As we are walking Angelo all of sudden jumps into the brush and pulls out this 2 meter anaconda and starts laughing like a wild ape. It seems like this is probably the first anaconda he has ever seen, much less caught. Angelo is so excited about his encountering of an anaconda that he forgets about cobra catching, which makes me excited. I don't remind him.

When we get back to camp we all take a quick siesta before Angelo loads us back up into the boat to go swim with the pink dolphins. I thought we were going to go to a spot in the Beni river that we hadn't been before, one that was perhaps a little more suitable for swimming. Not at all. I realize how silly I was for assuming that when he ties us to the same spot where we witnessed the sunbathing of caymans and piranhas jumping out of the water.

Nadamos! He says with a jolly grin.

Swim? I think. Here?

Before I have time to ask Angelo how safe this actually is the French guy jumps in without hesitation so I think, Well if he does it, then so do I. I jump out of the canoe into the khaki water and immediately feel the squish of mud and unknown animals underneath my toes. I see piranhas dancing in the distance, one of the Germans thinks he spot a crocodile underneath a nearby tree, pink dolphins are swimming arm lengths away from us wondering why the hell we are in the water, and Angelo is still in the canoe, eating a banana.

Oie! My nipple! Something bites my nipple!!
The Frenchman shouts. We all look.

My toe! one of the Germans then squeaks.
I think it bit my toe as well.

Angelo, are there piranhas in the water? I ask.

No. Sardines. he says as if we are crazy while everyone of us are holding different parts of our body in pain because of some unknown thing with teeth beneath the water.

It doesn't take us long before we are all back in the safety of the boat exasperated from the excitement of the day.

When we got back to camp all I wanted was to take shower. I was covered in filth, itchy with sweat and blood encrusted mosquito bites. All I wanted was to rip off my white shirt turned yellow from sweat stains and jungle dirt, and scrub my face with a Brillo pad. Instead, right when I was about to get into the makeshift shower, all the power went out, which meant no water.

NOOOOOOOO!!

To make it even worse I forgot to bring extra clothes. So that night I had to sleep in my mildewed swamp pants, syrupy yellow shirt, a face thick with waxy, brown sweat, while the mosquitoes hoovered around me because I also forgot to bring bug repellent;(

I woke up to the suffocating humidity at 5:00am and watched the sun come up with the relentless mosquitoes. By the time breakfast was ready I felt disgusting and starved. We all stumbled in together stifled by the morning sun and anxious for a filling breakfast, but instead, Angelo brought us out funnel cakes and spaghetti.
Again, I should have known better then to get my hopes up with Angelo.

After funnel cakes he took us to go piranha fishing. I wasn't too excited about this part of the trip because I absolutely detest fishing. However, I discovered that even though I'm terrible at bass or catfishing, I'm pretty darn good when it comes to catching piranhas:) The first one I caught came off the hook in the boat so my immediate response was to kick the fish out before I could take a picture. The second one I caught was much bigger and actually stayed on the hook, but I wasn't about to take it off myself, because like I said, it was a freaking piranha!! So instead I asked the crazy Frenchman if he wanted to play with it. The next thing I know the Frenchman is bleeding profusely because he somehow managed to put his finger in the piranhas mouth! Idiot!!

It didn't take us much longer after that before we started making our way out of the Pampas back into the town. Angelo rode on the roof of the red death wagon jeep, we encountered on helluva jungle storm, almost flipped over the truck in the mud, and then finally, got to the bus stop.

It was another miserable 22hrs on a bus that stunk of rotten sausage and armpits, no open windows, unbearably humid, and a seat that wouldn't recline. It took me about 5 hrs before I positioned my 6ft tall body into an origami shape that was bearable. With my head stuck out the window, I watched like a happy puppy, all the beautiful scenery around me, but anxious for a hot shower.

savannah wetlands

2009-08-31T07:38:00.002-06:00

I've got a 22hr bus ride to the Pampass to swim with pink dolphins and crocodiles.

Will be back sometime...

where the ATMs at Yo?!

2009-08-26T08:54:00.004-06:00

So my plans of hiking to Isla del Sol got squashed as soon as I got to Copacabana. The reason was because I had no cash and the town has no ATM machine. Que Paso?! I vaguely remember fellow traveler's to take cash, but I thought surely a border town of all places would have at least one ATM. Luckily, I ran into a friend I met in Ecuador who had enough cash to spot me a bus ticket to La Paz, Bolivia and this is where I am now. Sitting on the rooftop of my hostel watching a protest while police officers who large elephant looking guns are shooting them in the air to scare away the protesters. It is a little bit terrifying.. At this very moment I'm seeing police hold guns to people- it is really, really bizarre and sad and disappointing. I just found out that La Paz is one of the most dangerous places in the world, and from where I'm sitting, there is no question about it.

My first impression of La Paz is that it is massive. It is a city full of poor people. There aren't many restaurants, not many bars/pubs, very little taxis for such a large city, and an overwhelming homeless population. The restaurants and bars they do have are all owned and operated by entrepreneurs from other countries (or at least everyone I've seen).

The US dollar exchange rate is 7 bolivianos for 1 US dollar. The Euro is a whopping 15 bolivianos for 1 Euro. A massive hot dog/hamburger on the street is a mere 3 bolivianos. A typical lunch with soup, entree, and drink costs about 7-15bs. And still there are hungry people lining the streets.

Many people wear masks to keep the fumes from rotting their lungs. As soon as you step into the city you are gasping for air due to its high altitude and large gas emission. La Paz is one of the most air polluted cities in the world. On the way to the market yesterday I saw a line of school children walking the streets all holding their hands over their mouths trying not to breathe the grime.

The shoeshine boys, however, wear full-on ski masks but they wear these for a different reason. Discrimination. I took a break at the Plaza San Francisco where this 20yr boy came up to me wanting to know if he can shine my sneakers for 1 Boliviano. I didn't have any money on me so I couldn't help him out, but we did have one interesting conversation. I asked him about the reasoning for the masks and his response was that if people at school knew he was a shoeshine boy it would really hard for him because it is looked down upon. If he ever wanted to work in an office or establishment and the person hiring recognized that he shined shoes before he wouldn't get hired.

His name is Felix. He studies linguistics. He told told me how to say how are you and where are you from in 9 different languages. He tells me that the young people he shines shoes with are addicted to heroine,the drug problem in La Paz is is out of control, and that none of his shoeshine friends know about his studies. He keeps that a secret. I ask him what he wants to do and he laughs and asks me why I'm traveling for so long. It seems that we are both stumped by each others simple questions. We talk for a long time (all in Spanish:) about music and movies and things to look out for in La Paz. This is one crazy city..

The hostel that I'm staying at, however, is a pretty cool place that offered me a job behind the bar. So it looks like I'm going to get stuck in this hectic city for a while after all. It is a 2 week position- I work 4 nights a week, get full room/board and free drinks:) It seemed like a deal I couldn't pass up. I just hope that being in La Paz for such a long time won't set me back for the rest of my travels. Who knows?! All I know is that I start work this Saturday @ 5:00pm.

come what may.

I just kind of wish that it wasn't in La Paz...

More pics!!

2009-08-26T08:16:00.003-06:00

Just posted pics of Machu Picchu and Lake Tititaka

http://photobucket.com/buena_suerte_lacey

Ciao Peru

2009-08-26T07:52:00.001-06:00

Ciao Peru!

It has been exactly 1 month that I've been in Peru. A really interesting great country that I have thoroughly enjoyed exploring, but I'm ready for something new. I'm ready for Bolivia! Yesterday I was in Puno wrapped up in every article of clothing I have. I slept in my long socks, long-johns, blue jeans, undershirt, longsleeve shirt, alpaca sweater, fleece pullover, gloves, and toboggan under 2 wool blankets. Still was freezing!!

It is 7:45am now and the sun is beating down on my face like one exquisite lightbulb as I'm heading to Bolivia. Another month in another country doing other things. The first stop will be Isla del Sol, which is considered the birthplace of the sun by the Incas. After that probably head to La Paz and then take a 20hr to 2 day bus ride (it depends on the weather) to the Bolivian Amazon. The only question is how long is it going to take me to get through Bolivia with so much to do?!!

Peru in a nutshell

2009-08-26T07:38:00.002-06:00

Highlights of Peru

() Making it across the border without any problems... (except that I got pulled
off the bus because I somehow missed getting my immigration card. Ooops!)

() Having my 1st and only hot shower in Peru at Jo's Place Hostel in Huaraz.

() HUARAZ!!!
-Andean Cafe- They had the most delicious banana pancakes & spinach omelettes.
Plus, real coffee! It was even served in your own little French press.
And to top it off they had one unbelievable library :)

() Almost missed the overnight bus to Lima because I was buying $1.25 Chinese
food on the street. And it was damn good..

() Santa Cruz Trek- 3 nights/4 days of
mesmerizing difficulty. Every speck I loved from the amazing scenery, exploding
pain, my shitty attempt at camp food, everything... except for the damn attack
flies.

() Hitchiking back to Huaraz after the Santa Cruz Trek with the Quechua grandpa
and his grandson. The most beautiful drive I've been on.

() Sandboarding!!

() Lima for many, many reasons despite that most people I met didn't like it.

() This kid I met (working in the mall of all places) named Santiago who I found
quite inspiring. He wanted to know everything about everything. His favorite
band is Alice in Chains.

() Had a 45min conversation with a man who worked in a bookstore about art. We
share the same favorite artist- Egon Schiele. He told me that he can see his
dreams through the paintings of Schiele.

() Wandering the streets of Lima until 5:45am

() My Peruvian leather jacket & pinstripe pants I bought (although I did spend
too much money which is a bit sad)

() Ice cream :) Inka Cola :) Street Chinese food :)

() Machu Picchu— One hell of a hill to climb to get there and a bit expensive.
But well worth ii. One of the most impressive sites I've ever seen.

() Cusco— considered the capital city of the Inkas. Very European with its
cobblestone streets and narrow sidewalks. A great nightlife and the only town
in Peru I was able to buy a real beer in. Also, beautiful/talented people
abound here.

() Little kids playing with my hair on buses who were seriously confused by it

() making the most kickass guacamole on a rooftop because I didn't have any money
for anything else

() Lake Tititaka and the floating islands

-----------------------------------

Lowlights of Peru
-----------------------------------

() Having little kids (under the age of 6) try to rob me in the Chiclayo Market

() Spending too much money here

() My 2 weeks of being deathly ill with one hell of a bout of traveler's diarrhea
& getting a stomach parasite

() allergic reaction to the stomach medicine

() BEER SUCKS!!!

() Almost got in a fight in a bar in Lima for no other reason then some
bald-headed guy didn't like it that my friend and I were from the States and
spoke English. It was a very sad experience.

() Peruvian wine is just as bad as the beer. Don't buy or try it!!

() Getting harassed by people on the street wanting you to
(a) eat @ their shitty overpriced restaurant
(b) join a fucking tour that I have no interest in joining
(c) Buy drugs from people who simply say, “ I got drugs. You want to buy?”

Peculiarities of Peru

2009-08-26T07:26:00.002-06:00

The endless playing of Michael Jackson
(80's love ballads and wind pipe covers don't fall too far behind him, though)
Toilet seats are non-existent. Why?!?!

one-way streets mean that anyone from any direction can drive down them

Drugs are abundant...when someone wants to sell you something they simply walk up to you in the streets and say Hey! I got drugs. You want?? and then I happily reply No, me gusta and then they laugh because they think I'm joking. Geezzzz

People everywhere are fascinated not by my tattoos or dreadlocks or height.. Nope. It is my hair color and accent.

You can take an entire book to a copy shop and they will copy it for you for 12 Soles (3 bucks!!)
This can't happen in the States because of a little something called copyright infringement.

Police are everywhere, however, they are much more friendlier then APD.

No one ever has change-- ever. If you happen to pay with exact change, however, Peruvians think it is fake. I am still baffled by how commerce takes place...

If hostels say they have hot water, they are lying.

Rainbow flags are everywhere... but that isn't a calling for gays and lesbians around the globe to join hands and sing Kumbaya... It is a tribute to the indigenous population. Shucks.

more photos!

2009-08-19T09:53:00.002-06:00

After about an hour of confusion, I finally finished my photobucket account! Everyone told me it is a very simple thing to do, but I don´t do well with super gadget lingo.
This is the link:

http://photobucket.com/buena_suerte_lacey

Sandboarding & San Pedro

2009-08-17T16:57:00.001-06:00

Very important things happend several days ago. I took some San Pedro with this guy from the UK and we went sandboarding in Huacachina, Peru-- the home of the world´s highest sanddune!! It was amazing! Except for the taste of San Pedro.. I drank half a cup of the chunky ninja turtle looking goo which tasted like Peruvian sewer backwash... I´m not quite sure if it was actually what I thought it was.. But sandboarding was insane!!!

damn transcation fees!!

2009-08-17T16:13:00.003-06:00

Just checked my beloved bank account and it looks like I´ve spent far too much money here in Peru. I blame the Peruvian leather jacket I bought & some fancy dress pants. I really, really shouldn´t have bought either, but the thing is, I have been prancing around South America looking like a cross between Dora the Explorer and GI Jane´s sister, so I thought a little bit of self-indulgence was granted. By the looks of my bank account, it seems like I´m going to be scrapping hard for pesos by the time I get to Chile (and Chile, Argentina, Brazil are the most expensive countries, yikes!) But, I´m not going to fret yet.. For now, I´m just going to look a little fancier then usual eating my mandarin oranges and canned tuna while sitting on benches in parks wearing pinstripe pants & a badass leather jacket .

Oh the glory of being sick ( again...)

2009-08-15T17:56:00.004-06:00

Peru would be an exceptional country if half the time I've spent wasn't on buses or toilets. Oh the glory of being sick in foreign countries!! Yesterday, I spent 13 hrs on a bus ride with a stomach that felt like it was playing jumprope with my intestines. I couldn't sleep. Didn't eat. And then, to top it off, the bus didn't have a bathroom. It was terrible. When I got off the bus in Arequipa I went on a hunt for a hostel and a pharmacy. The hostal was easy to find, but the pharmacy took a bit. When I found it the lady sold me 5 mystery pills, in which I'm pretty sure, I took them in the wrong order. They seemed to make me feel slightly better which justified my reasoning for buying Chinese food on the street with hot sauce & some strange mystery meat for $5 soles. Now I'm back in bed trying not to think about how the dorm I'm in reeks of mold & vomit & stale beer. Blahhhhhhhhh

Nazca Lines

2009-08-14T13:53:00.001-06:00

In three hours I´m going to fly over the Nazca Lines and vomit everywhere.. You know why?? Because I have a stomach bug and really bad motion sickness.. After that, it is a 15hr bus ride onward bound to Macchu Pichu!!

Lima: such a modern world

2009-08-14T13:35:00.003-06:00

I was in Lima for about 6 days living with a couchsurfer named Magno. He turned about to be an environmental attorney who was fascinated with blond girls. A little strange at first, but he was a nice guy nonetheless. It was just that every conversation we had he always asked with a curious smile,

People like you because are the blonde, no?

and I would kindly say

Yes, I´m blonde Magno. That is correct. I have blonde hair but I hope that is not why people like me.

and he would laugh, still a little mesmorized, not by the type of hair I have, but the color.

Two of my days spent in Lima were at the Bolivian Embassy. I had to fill out many forms, take a photo, a hand over $135, but I finally got my Visa!!

Being in Lima reminded me of what it was like living in the modern world.. Choices & order. Lima had street lights! Lima had reciepts! Lima had toilet paper!

I´ve been in S. America since the end of May and have rarely came across places that contained all three of these things.

Many people I met didn´t enjoy Lima, but I thought it was quite alright. I ran into a couple of problems, but nothing too serious. If anything, I ran into some of the kindest people there, which was surprising. Large cities anywhere don´t really have the reputation of being friendly, but I thought Lima was a very open and accpeting city and most of the people I met were exceptionally friendly and helpful.

living in the woods

2009-08-05T09:33:00.010-06:00

The Cordillera Blanca.

Perhaps the most stunning and difficult thing I've done thus far. It is included within the Huascaron National Park, extending over 180km, it contains over 663 glaciers, has the highest peak in the Peruvian Andes, equipped with 269 lakes and 41 rivers—this whopping piece of earth is truly daunting.

For 5 days I trekked through valleys, shimmering lagoons, and snow-capped mountains at an altitude this Mississippian isn't accustomed to. The total hike was 62km, which doesn't sound like much, but when you have an additional 60lbs of stuff attached to your back you start to wish you were one of the people who rented a mule for $5 bucks a day.

I decided no mules, and no guide.

I was going to do this with only three days of acclimatization in Huraz, rent some gear, get a friend, and buy lots of oranges, bread, oatmeal, sausages, and mustard. Always mustard. The gear I got looked as if it got lost in 1983.. Neon purple backpack—missing buckles & straps, a tent with a hole, a sleeping bag with a broken zipper, a pot barely big enough to boil water, and a spork. Off I go..

It takes 2 hrs in a Colectivo—Peru's poor excuse of public transportation which is a minivan that looks like it is on the brink of explosion filled with about as many people as an Evangelical church. If you are handicapped or claustrophobic—good luck—because this is the only option.

I woke up to 6:00am sunrise, the sound of whimpering dogs and bitting cold in the background. Double checked my 60lbs of necessary shit, put on my rented jacket that smells of 1983 and licorice, and find the Colectivo to Caraz— the place I start the Santa Cruz trek. Once I get to Caraz I had to find a taxi that would take me to Cashacampa, the first refuge that you are supposed to start from. One guy tried to charge me 80 soles (about $20) to take me to Cashacampa. I had to inform him that even though I look like I'm not from around there I know enough to understand that he was an idiot for thinking I was dumb enough to pay him that much. I found a guy that would take me up the winding, gravel, mountain road for 30 soles instead:)

Along the way we picked up a lady walking with a basket of peaches and a guy with a transistor radio. They were curious if I was from Germany, which is what everyone thinks, but I said

Nope. Mississippi. United States.
And with a grand smile the taxi driver tells me
Que bueno! Obama!

I laugh and tell him
sí, sí... finalmente!

We talked about the landscape of the area, our favorite fruits, Quechua words, and places I've visited. After the 35 minute taxi ride I learned about the importance the rivers have as their water source, that the cab driver's favorite fruit is duranzos, the lady with the fruit makes her living from the field, and the man with the transistor radio has a wife and 3 kids. We finally make it to the place I needed to go, I pay the cab driver, and all three wish me luck as the lady hands me a peach from her basket.

Buena Suerte. They say.

And I tell them thanks because I know I will need it.

Day one was the hardest. The terrain was mostly uphill and I was already halfway exhausted from the multiple forms of transportation I had to take just to get there. I started at 10am with a fleece jacket and long underwear, by 12am I was down to a t-shi rt and windpants, and by 3:30am I made it to the first camp. I had to take many breaks before I made it. Many were so I could chug my river water, one was for me to puke it up, and the other was for me to devour the most delicious orange in my life. The sight of camp was the greatest sign of relief. I threw off my backpack that weighed about as much as a 3rd grader and began to breathe again. It wasn't long, though, before I started to get attacked my killer flies, mosquitoes, and other insects that like to drink blood. While I was setting up my tent I noticed that my hands and arms had encrusted blood on them from all the bug bites. Damn bugs.

It didn't take me long to set up camp, but it did take me quite a while to boil noodles for dinner. I blame it on my mini pot, portable propane tank, and lack of patience. Finally, I got them half cooked. They were in that sticky, semi-chewy state, but I mixed in my instant cream of mushroom powder and they seemed alright to me. By 6:00pm the sun was behind the mountains and I was struggling to read my book Moon Tide by the only three stars I noticed in the sky.

When you are sleeping in the woods the days start early. You hear things that you don't notice when you are sleeping soundly in a warm bed. Like the clanking of pots from camps near by, the squawking of birds, and the weight of supplies being slapped on the back of mules. The cold in the air was jarring. At 6:00am the last thing I wanted to do was unwrap myself from my cocoon sleeping bag and begin to tear down camp. But I did it anyway. I put on my toboggan, jacket, and gloves, found my spork and ate my leftover mushroom sauce noodles before I folded up everything back in its bag and began trekking towards the mountain.

They refer to it as the Santa Cruz trek. One of the most breathtaking hikes one can take in Peru. Day 2 took longer to the next camp because there was more terrain to cover, but it seemed much easier since there weren't as many hills. I passed several rivers and lagoons—all different shades of blue. Some were iridescent and swallowing, others had a film like green shadows. And then there were rivers that I dunked my head that were about as shivering and clean as silver. I ate my expired meat sandwich and animal crackers by one of the lakes and it occurred to me, on day 2, that I was in the middle of nowhere, Peru. The thought made me laugh as more mules passed me bye by people carrying Camelbacks and fancy cameras. I was still stuck with 60lbs of survival utensils on my back under the heartbeat of the sun. It is an interesting weight, the things one needs to survive away from supermarkets and depot stores. To hear the slug of water and know that it is something I'm going to need soon. Real soon.. Like once I reach the top of the hill.

For 9 hrs I walked. Did the same thing I did the night before, unpack my bag, set up tent, swat killer mosquitoes and kamikaze flies. I got out my propane tank and made either porridge or bread-pudding. I am still not sure what the hell it was. I just know that it was 30cents, the requirement was water, and the package said that will make you strong. Perfecto!

Five minutes later my oat concoction swelled to an alarming proportion in which I would have offered some to the rest of the camp if it didn't taste like grey mud. I ate this for 2 days.

Punta Union pass happened on Day 3. This is the reason so many people do this particular trek. It is supposedly the hardest day for many trekkers. It is the day you reach the highest altitude of the trek and it is all winding, narrow, uphill. Luckily, I had eaten half of my oranges so I didn't have that to weigh me down as much:)

The snow mountain in the distance was a palm print away by noon. Below Punta Union mountain there was another shimmering lagoon and a glacier you could touch. A glacier!! It was the coolest thing being able to be so close to one. I wish the pictures could explain the magnitude of the place. Of the valleys, of the warmth, of the mountains, of the lagoons, and the cool, breezy nights.

After eating my canned tuna smothered in mustard on top of the pass, I took on last deep breath before hoisting the weight back on my back and heading towards civilization. I still had 2 days left. The rest of day 3 was downhill, which my lungs were appreciated of, but not my knees. It took about 4 hours to get to the last base camp. The landscape had changed from boulders and dirt, to flat valleys, snow-crusted mountains, sapphire lagoons, to emerald covered hillsides and hunter-green trees. Finally, trees!!

Day 4 reminded me of the Pacific northwest. Air smelled like wintergreen with a crispness of Washington apples. There were wild horses in the valley, cows eating the green, and one time I saw a sea of sheep come trotting through a clearing followed by a young boy with a stick. Day 4 was the easiest. Mostly flat and lush with shallow stream passings caused by glacial runoffs. Glacial water is the best water I've ever had. The landscape felt like I had stumbled into the Chronicles of Narnia—a part of me felt like I was loosing my mind.

The last 3 hrs was trekking through indigenous villages. Small children would run up to me smiling with their hands open saying

Caramelo ! Caramelo!

I first I thought it must have been another word for Gringo but it occurred to me, about 9 children later, they were asking for candy. It is endearing how simple the wants are of a child. Unfortunately, all I had were animal cracker crumbs in the bottom of my 1980s rucksack. They didn't seem to mind too much. They would try to talk to me and I would try to talk to them while walking and eventually our conversations would hit a wall as I kept following the path.

The farmland was beautiful. Deep fields of wheat and lilac. I passed some straw and mud shacks with people smoking meat and shearing sheep for wool.

Eventually, I made it to the small town of Vaqueria. From there I hitched a ride to Yungay, another town 2 hrs away, and hopped on a Colectivo back to Huraz. The drive down and through the backside of mountains might have been actually more beautiful then the pass and valleys I hiked. I sat next to a Quechua grandfather holding on to his 3yr old grandson while his sons sat in the front and drove. He told me me Quechua words for things like mountains, hats, and snow. Halfway down the mountain pass all 3 men and the tiny grandson got out of the truck and peed in a line over the cliff. I could tell by the melting snow and the angle in their trousers. I sat in the back of the truck laughing at how I managed to hitch a ride with three whizzing men and one rosy-cheeked, rawhide skin grandson whose name I still cannot pronounce.

By 6:00pm I was back in Huraz. I drank 2 bottles of wine and took a cold shower. I crawled into bed warm, clean, and thankful, that tomorrow I was going to return my 1983 trekking gear back to the lady I rented it from.

Another notch in the book lists

2009-07-30T09:03:00.003-06:00

Spending copious amounts on buses and hammocks yields itself to reading books I've been wanting to read for a long time, and books that people I've met along the way have generously given me. Already, I've turned through 5 books. I'm working on 3 more right now. I only brought one book from Austin and I finished reading that sometime in Costa Rica. It was an intriguing looking paperback with an enticing title called The Story of Forgetting.

I felt that it would be a suiting read, a story about forgetting as I was leaving. Sentimental, I know, but what do you expect?
I like poetry.

The story is told through 3 separate narratives, all intertwined and unknowing; a boy, a man, and a town. My favorite of them is the narrative of Isadora; a place where nothing is ever obtained so nothing can ever be lost. Possession of any and everything. Words. People. Ideas. Objects. Perhaps all we are, are our memories. It is our experiences that craft us into the walking wonders we are. The book is entitled The Story of Forgetting but what about the things that we don't that we wish we could? We have memories for remembering, followed by a language we've created to explain what it is we can't forget. We are abstract beings in concrete bodies. If I cut my finger I will bleed like anyone else, but we feel it differently. The feeling is an abstraction to the sensation of pain itself.

The minds selection of memories is mystifying. The things we teach ourselves to remember like test dates, birthdays, and the things the mind decides to remember on its own like certain nightmares, smells, faces of ex-lovers. The narrative of Isadora is an array of mysticism and science. As I read it I couldn't help but wonder what if?. There is a part where a general hears of a town that is filled with gold- all the riches in world; everything one could ever want- but the thing about the town is that it contains no memory. Gold has no value because there is no memory of it. Gold is gold. The only value gold has is what we have asserted to it. The word gold evokes a connotation of wealth, an abstraction. If I said I have oro (the Spanish word for gold) to a person who only speaks English that would have no meaning to them. Things can be both gained and lost by the act of what one remembers and what one doesn't. Gabriel Garcia Marquez wrote, " Life is not what one lived, but what one remembers and how one remembers it in order to recount it."

I agree.

The Story of Forgetting is not my favorite book. Probably not even top 10, but a good read. An entertaining and interesting one. I'd recommend it simply for the story of Isadora.

Next book.

The Turning by Tim Winton.

A collection of short stories that was given to me by a traveling boy from the UK. These short stories are like chocolate cake in bed, surprise birthday, first kiss, moon in the horizon, kinda good. One made me cry. Another made me ill. All of them made me thankful for the inspiration. If you find, buy it.

Living to Tell the Tale by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

I shouldn't have to explain. It is Gabriel Garcia Marquez; the Colombian God of writers.

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Sidenote:
Since I'm churning through books quicker then bottles of beer any recommendations of books would be greatly appreciated :)

cheers!

Made it to Peru!

2009-07-29T09:34:00.002-06:00

After a 10hrs overnight bus I took 4 days ago, I'm in Peru. I heard a lot of terrible things about overnight buses as border-crossings, but nothing bad happened on this one thankfully. I sat next to a German guy on a bus to Chichlayo, Peru and he told me that he took the same night bus I was on three days ago and it got robbed by 7 guys at gunpoint. They barricaded the road 10 minutes after they got to Peru and took everyone off the bus and checked them for cash, passports, Ipods, etc... No one was hurt he informed me, but still kind of scary.

I'm in Huaraz right now and plan on doing lots of hiking here. I'm going to do a 10hr hike tomorrow and then a 5 day hike in the next couple of days. They recommend to hang around in town for a few days in order to acclimate. I bought some coco leaves to munch on that is supposed to help out with attitudinal sickness:) Oh! another exciting thing is that I think I'm going to be volunteering at a bar here. Maybe I'll get to make some good 'ol pisco sours and practice my artful wristflip opening Peruvian beers;)

Today I'm going to buy a camera. I should of bought one, oh let's say, 3 months ago, but I'm stubborn and frugal, which makes me terrible at compulsive shopping. I did however buy some San Pedro from a witch doctor. At least I hope that is what I bought....

I adore Ecuador

2009-07-29T08:33:00.004-06:00

Before I begin a new chapter with Peru, I'd like to give a quick recap of my highlights of Ecuador:

. How I got here:
the "mishap" in Colombia with my airline tickets followed by my 5 day stay at the Crossroads hostel in Quito

Quito
Even though everyone I met there got mugged, I still enjoyed it. I met 2 really cool folks there and also thought my adventures climbing the Teleferico, the Basillica, and going to the Otavalo market were worth my stay there.

My man crush
yep. every now and then I get one. This guy was a real life, I was birthed from a mountain lion and can make a strawberry pie out of driftwood kind of mountain man. I ran into him twice in two completely different regions and both times he was dressed in his native garment and had a soft look on his face that explained that he could kill a man in a matter of seconds and do a dance for the gods in a corn field. Sexy.

Cotopaxi
Blisteringly cold. Strenuous climb. Worth it.

Banos
Motherfuckin dune-buggie going dead in a pitch black tunnel was a buzz kill. Hitchhiking into town was another experience in itself. I also ate the best fondue in my life there.

Welcome to the Jungle
Found a guy on couchsurfing who let me stay in his hut outside of Puyo ( a small town in the Amazon Basin) His friend Marco, a Quechua Shawman showed me around. There, I swam in the Amazon Basin and held an anaconda snake

Chimborazo
The holy-shit of volcanoes. This guy is the closet point to the sun in the world. It stands at around 6250 meters. Very dangerous due to unpredictable climate/avalanches/lightning strikes... I hiked to the refugee, rented mountain bikes, and ended up in an alpaca field. Oops... Definitely my favorite outdoor activity I did.

Montanita
Strange town. Party 24/7. Seemed a little sketchy. Felt like I had stumbled onto an MTV real world set gone bad. Attempted surfing, and really suck at it. Some dude tied shit into my hair, surprise surprise, as if I don't already have enough shit in it already.. I also decided to go by a different name. Phoenix Ruyo. That is my new name from now on.. or at least for my time being in Montanita.

Vilcabamba
My favorite small Ecuadorian town. It is filled with Ex-pats (literally over 200 living within a 60 mile radius) I did a 4 hour horseback ride which was the most painful experience in my life. The guide asked me if I had any experience, I said not really, and then we took off about as quick as a champagne top on New Years. That was 7 days ago and my ass is still sore. Never again. Never again.

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If you are ever traveling through Ecuador keep these hostels in mind.

Quito- Crossroads hostel
Banos- Plantas y blancas
Riobamba- Oasis hostel
Vilcabamba- Hostel Izcayluma (my favorite)

compliments of my brother

2009-07-27T06:10:00.002-06:00

he is artistic.

Apologies

2009-07-26T22:33:00.000-06:00

I apologize for the lack of posting lately. Many things have occurred as to why. The main reason is that my laptops wireless card has failed. I'm pretty bummed about it since that is the only reason I brought a computer to begin with. I'm sure it can be fixed but I don't know a damn thing about computers so the likelihood of me figuring it out is slim to none. This means that I have to do all my updating at internet cafes which are few and far between, especially in the rural areas.

The other reason is that I've been on buses every other day trying to get closer to Peru. The longest one was 13 hrs, but I've had many 6hrs as well.

Sickness is my last reason. I was really, really sick for several days and then it took me another couple of days before I regained any energy to do anything. I'm feeling better now, but still not up to full speed. Anyway, even though I haven't been posting as frequently as I like due to internet difficulties and other misfortunes, I have been writing them elsewhere. Below are things I've been meaning to post that I finally got around to though. I went back and posted them all in the order they occurred.

sick sick sick

2009-07-26T22:27:00.002-06:00

For the past two days I've been stuck in bed. I think I have a fever. I barely have enough energy to make it to the bathroom which has turned into my new best friend. It feels as if I've got a carnival's worth of funnel cakes and mayonnaise milkshakes in my stomach. My right ear is completely clogged to the point I can't hear anything. I feel drainage in-behind my eardrum and it hurts so much. I know I'm dehydrated but I can't seem to keep anything down. I'm in bed typing this right now, but it hurts to move. Everything hurts—knees, head, muscles, joints—the cold sweats are the worst. I can't seem to get situated. I've been good about taking my vitamins everyday, but I guess they don't work anymore. I finally broke down and took some Tylenol and medicine for my stomach. I had an allergic reaction to the stomach medicine. I hope I start to feel better within the next day or two. I don't want to go to the doctor here, I hate going to the doctor. I hate it so much that the last time I went for a check-up was when I was 12. All I want is some hot soup and a soda. I remember that always seemed to work when I was little. The only soup they have here contains some sort of bone or animal intestines in it. That won't help. I'll just go to bed and wait for the medicine to kick in. This really isn't fun at all.

Cuenca

2009-07-26T22:19:00.004-06:00

Pretty Spanish architecture

delicious ice cream

bought a bad ass Panamanian hat

Bus ran into a bull

2009-07-26T22:18:00.001-06:00

Yep. That is right. On the exhausting ride from Montanita to Guayquil and then from Guayaquil heading to Cuenca we ran into a bull. The front of the bus got smashed with the imprint of an animal, we swerved into a curve, almost flipped, and came to a halt after the fuel tank started leaking. Everyone got off and stood next to the leaking bus as people from all over town came to look at what must have been the most exciting thing to have happened in a long time. Cars were stopping, people were waving, and I was just wanting to be going to Cuenca. Finally another bus came to pick us up, but that bus wasn't any better. The entire bus ride from Montanita to Cuenca was supposed to be 7 hrs max. Instead, it was a grueling 13 hr hell ride. The 2nd bus had some tough terrain to drive through. There was one part in the journey after dark when the fog was so thick, there were no street lights, and it started to rain, all while we were on a narrow, winding, dirt road. Usually when one of these conditions are present you slow down, if many of these conditions are present, you really slow down, but not this bus driver... We just kept trucking along until he slammed on his brakes right before we almost drove over a cliff! Awesome. First we crash into a bull, next we almost nosedive off a cliff. By the time we finally made it to the Cuenca bus terminal, however, it was 1:00AM. I didn't think anything would be open so I found me a nice little corner close to where the homeless people were sleeping and decided to call it night. It was the coldest, dirtiest, shadiest, bus station ever, but everything worked out fine in the end. I slept with my backpack in my lap and woke up at 6:00am, caught a cab, checked myself in a nice place, took a bath, and then went back to bed—in a real bed this time..

MTV Montañita

2009-07-26T22:10:00.002-06:00

Strange. Strange. The little beachtown called Montañita. It literally consisted of 3 blocks.. The first one being what I named cocktail cove (a street that was nothing but cocktail stands equipped with boom-boxes that played the worst remixes of 50cent & Guns N Roses I've ever heard) restaurant rank (a row of over-crowded, over-priced, and over-smelly restaurants) and buy my shit block ( where the locals post up everyday trying to sell the same ol' shit). The reason I went to Montañita in the first place was because I heard it was a decent beach where there is a lot of stuff to do. Wrong. The beach was a bit too crowded and there was nothing to do but watch tourists get way too hammered and get taken off with locals. I felt like I had stumbled onto an MTV goes to Ecuador reality show. It really was quite bizarre. Some of the locals were cool, but they had this strange aura about them.. I wish I could explain a little better, but just bizarre is about the best I can do. I did, however, met this cool dude from LA who taught me how to surf. I suck at it. He told me not to worry about not being great because it takes about a year before a person can even half way do anything. I believe him because that shit is difficult. I did manage to get up one time, though. If I lived on a coastal town I might would try to pick it up.

Mountain bikes, alpaca fields, and more volcanos

2009-07-26T21:52:00.003-06:00

Volcano Chimborazo is like the Holy Shit of volcanos. It is grand. It is gorgeous. It is gnarly. The sheers looks of it reminded me of a Doberman Pincher at a junkyard. Stunning from a distance, but if you get too close, it won't hesitate to eat you. At a whopping 6,310m in elevation, it is recognized as the closet point to the sun in the world. However, it has a reputation for unpredictable weather and a terrible history of people being killed every year by getting struck by lightning and avalanches. Only experienced climbers are supposed to attempt the summit, but of the few who attempt, far less ever reach it. With that being said I decided to hike half and mountain bike the rest:)

I found this really great guy who runs ProBici (a bike shop who specializes in mountain bike rides of Chimborazo). He drove me and a couple of Canadians from Riobamba to Chimborazo where he explained a lot of the history along the way. The drive there was gorgeous. We drove through several indigenous villages where he explained some facts about Quechuas, their language, and religion. He said that most of them in that area converted to Christianity from Catholicism because there was a large influx of Western missionaries who started to come.

It took about 1hr and 30min before we made it to the base of Chimborazo and the view of this volcano was mindnumbing. The sky was the color of mouthwash, and felt about as clean and crisp as it too. You could see a few of the glaciers and the snow looked like white glitter. It was freakin' awesome! The start of the hike wasn't as difficult as Cotopaxi for me because even though it was higher in elevation the incline wasn't as steep. The wind, however, got up to 50mph- and this was just before the refuge! Once I reached the top I tried to reclaim my breath and took refuge in the base camp. There, I met this Australian family of 4 who were on a 6 month—24 country—family vacation. They looked like the happiest family I'd ever seen, which is strange to me, because a 6 month vacation with my family would be the equivalent of getting bullwhiped with snake fangs (okay maybe not that severe, but close..) I was happy for them, it looked like they were having a great time; plus, the mom gave me the rest of her porridge, which was the most delicious leftovers I've had in South America.

Once I climbed back down from the refuge the Canadian guys and I geared up for our 6 hour mountain biking trek. It was an intense ride through sand, snow, boulders, cobblestone streets, and alpaca fields. I don't think I was supposed to actually ride through the field, but since there were a few dogs chasing behind me I was in no position to stop.. I just kept trucking along... It made me realize how much I miss bike riding. I biked a lot in Austin—a whole lot—but when I got off that 6 hour bike ride around the volcano I have to admit I was a little sore. It was a wonderful day. Perhaps my favorite adventurous activity I've done in Ecuador.
_____

Skinny dippin in the Oriente

2009-07-26T21:20:00.003-06:00

For the past three days I've been living in the Amazon Basin. If you imagine bugs the size of bats and anaconda snakes when you think of the Amazon then you have the right idea. What I saw in the Amazon was beyond interesting, but how I got there is a lot more exciting.

I decided that if I went to the jungle I wanted to stay with someone who lived there and experience how they survive, even if was just for a few days. I didn't want to find a hostel and join some tour where we all sheepishly follow an English speaking man in a safari suit with binoculars while we stare at birds from afar and snap photos of indigenous individuals as if they are a part of the landscape. Nu huh. After scrapping my brainbone trying to figure out how in the hell I was going to find someone who has never left the Amazon I decided to turn to my dear old friend— www.couchsurfing.com and came across Wlady, a guy who happened to have a hut in-between Puyo & Macas. I was completely shocked to find out that someone that far away knew about couchsurfing.com & had the internet! After a few corresponding emails trying to figure out when to go and what bus could take me there we finally came up with a plan. Wlady told me that even though he wouldn't be there to show me around he would get his friend, Marco, to take me to the hut. What Wlady didn't tell me was that Marco is a Quechua (Ecuador's largest indigenous population) and.... a Shawman!

I was supposed to meet Marco at the Terreste bus terminal in Puyo @ 1:00pm. Once I got there I realized one very important thing that I forgot to ask Wlady..What does Marco look like? For about forty-five minutes I sat at the bus stop hoping that Marco could pick me out. I didn't think it would be too difficult since it was just 7 drunk Ecuadorian men and a woman selling pig heads and Powerade. He found me right away.

We attempted to conversate for the first 10 minutes of the 40 minute bus ride to the hut. I would say that I'm about 30% to 40% fluent, however, talking to Marco was freaking difficult because he spoke a blend of Quechua & Spanish, and I speak fragmented Spanish mixed with English curse words. We soon became experts at charades:)

When we got to the tiny, tiny town he introduced me to his family... which was the town. I met his 7 children, wife, brother, sisters, their husbands, sisters, etc... They were some of the friendliest people I've met, and oddly enough I met them all while they were in church. It was 6:00pm on a Tuesday in a shack that they also use as a school for the kids. The teacher (they don't use the terminology preacher) was this lady who was the only one who could read out of the 10 people in that room- all adults. Literacy for all is a something I feel strongly about so it was really disheartening to see firsthand people whose own language is a foreign entity to them when written. I won't get off on a tangent now, but if you don't read- please do! Read anything because it really is one of the greatest privileges, and plus, sometimes you find some good stuff in 'em books:)

Okay. Back to the Amazon.. The following day was when Marco & his wife led me through the Amazon. WOW. First, the mud is outrageous. There were a few times when I was walking and then all of a sudden I'd find myself knee-deep in a thick mud-slush that was struggle to get out. We encountered banana spiders, who knows what kind of insects, Marco showed me plants used for Shawminsitic rituals, and even introduced me to a baby anaconda he found. I made a terrible joke about when the snake gets bigger it will probably eat his dog. He laughed and said that he would probably eat him since this type of anaconda can grow up to 6 meters! I quickly gave the little tyke back to Marco and realized why he carries 2 machetes.

After 5 hours of hiking I was relieved when we made it to this waterfall. With no reservation I stripped down to the bare basics and cannonballed into the coldest water in my life. It was amazing. I swam around a bit while Marco caught tiny fish with his hands. His wife even caught a couple like that too. They caught about 10 total which was what we ate for dinner that night. Tiny fried fish and white rice. I can't say it was filling, but the entire experience was definitely rewarding. It is fascinating to me to see the varying ways people live and the means they have to go through in order to make it to another day.

below is what I saw
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The anaconda Marco had was actually a little bigger and whole lot prettier, but you get the idea..

This is a banana spider. These guys are highly dangerous from my understanding. I held the anaconda, but I wasn't about to hold this guy.

still alive..

2009-07-16T09:10:00.002-06:00

in the past 5 days I´ve put my body through the most climatical shock possible. I hiked to Volcano Chimborazo´s refuge ( the summit of this deceased volcano is the closet point to the sun in the world- pretty awesome, huh?!) stayed with a Quechua Shawman in the middle of the jungle, held a baby anaconda, skinny dipped in the Amazon Basin, got chased by dogs while mountain biking through a bull field, and have survived a 10hr bus ride to a beach filled with white people (it is a bit strange..). Going to do a little partying since I´m in the 3X1 cocktail land before I begin my voyage into Peru.. wish I had time to say a little more but I see an ocean in the distance that I´d like to jump in..

Just wanted to say that I´m alive and kickin & will put up pictures shortly..

Todas bien!

some sidenotes on Ecuador

2009-07-11T06:36:00.000-06:00

Every Ecuadorian I have met is mind-blowing friendly and are so interesting to talk to. They are beautiful people who are very proud of their culture, and rightfully so despite so much political turmoil they have gone through (10 presidents in the last 8 years) as well dollarization (in 2001 Ecuador dropped their national currency the sucre and adopted the US dollar. The way of life in Quito compared to how it is just 2 hours north in Otavalo, a small indigenous village market town, is too unique to describe. Quito is divided in-half. There is Old town, which consists of old architectural buildings, cathedrals, and basically anything that hasn't been built for a while. Now take a guess as to what the other part is called?...... New Town! a Gringola central, a replica of 6th street with bars named things like Strawberry, No Bar, Dragonfly, and Texas Star American pop culture permeates everything.. From the moment I got off the plane in Quito there were people lining the streets selling stolen Michael Jackson memorabilia, and even a couple of people asked me how I felt about the Pop icons death...Thirty minutes west of Dragonfly and Michael Jackson, I'm having a 5 year old boy begging me for change and wanting to know if he can shine my shoes despite that they were flipflops. Although the dichotomy is strange, it is also honest. Poverty in Ecuador is not something hidden- it is evident and has been woven into the culture. I think I read that 40-60% of Ecuadorians live below poverty- and from what I've seen that sounds about right. Nearly every hostel and restaurant I've seen (unless they are cafeteria style) are owned by Europeans or Americans. The reason for this is that most Ecuadorians can't build up enough capital to start a business. It is the second poorest country in South America, however, it is considered the 4th most expensive, but I think, depending on what one may do, it is pretty cheap- no hostel has cost me more then $8 a night- there are markets everywhere that you can haggle any price down to a couple of bucks- and last night I even had cheese & beef fondue, salad, and a bottle of wine for $16! Unbelievable!

Another thing Ecuador leads in is bio-diversity. I really wanted to go to the Galapagos Islands but for about $1000 bucks a person- I had to pass... Ecuador has over 20,000 different species of plants when the rest of the Americas combined has only 17,000!
There is everything from active volcanoes, glorious beaches, the Amazon, mountains, Rainforest, there is rain, sun, snow, hot, and cold.. You can hike, white-water raft, visit waterfalls, ride bicycles up to a volcano, and then treat yourself to a tasty .80c beer at the end of the day. The climate and landscape of the country is really amazing. I found out yesterday from a Latacunga native that the US is Ecuador's number one importer of broccoli and roses. I would have never of guessed that because I haven't came across that many since I've been here. Their main diet consists of yucas, bananas, and some type of meat (not chicken, pork, or cow..) one of their traditional dishes that I'm a fan of is llapingachos

and when I say some type of meat I mean it is Lomo (alpaca meat), cuy (guinea pig) or parts of animals I've never seen before fried up at this huge outdoor food market. The lomo is good- taste like steak- the cuy... you will like only if you like dark meat chicken.

I've got more to explain about this tiny little country I'm starting to get a crush on, but I've got to go find my bus out of Baños today

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more info on dollarization:
http://www.mindspring.com/~tbgray/dollar.htm

In the morning

2009-07-10T15:27:00.002-06:00

Tomorrow morning I will be in Puyo- the jungle- with some guy named Marco. He is an Amazon warrior. His friend has a cabin in the middle of the Ecuadorian Amazon that I found on couchsurfing. Today I started taking my malaria pills. I look forward to the crazy dreams I'm going to have tonight. I hope I get food before then- for the past three days I've been eating tangerines & random meat on the street. Oh the luxuries of traveling!

The Bandits of Baños

2009-07-10T07:15:00.006-06:00

After hiking Cotopaxi, eating food that is still alive, and trying to navigate new cities with no sense of direction, you'd figure that nothing would surprise me- let alone- kind of scare me, but then something did.. A friend that I met here in Baños and I decided that renting dune buggies like this

and driving through this

would be a fabulous idea! And for only $14 bucks for 2 hours I couldn't resist. So here we go whirling up and down hills, slinging mud, doing doughnuts, honking at cars, and driving through waterfalls- we were like Bonnie & Clyde, Batman & Robin- I named us the Bandits of Baños and no one was going to stop us until we heard baaa dumm, baaaa dummm, irkkk irkkk irrk, poofff. our get-away vehicle ran out of gas in the middle of a dark, one-way traffic tunnel, with no end in site. Fuck. Before I had time to think I heard one huge tour bus barreling through honking at us to get out of the way.

Push Eric! I yell.
What?
We gotta push, dude- go!

so he gets out and starts to push while I steer us back into civilization trying my best to get the thing to go. All of a sudden it starts so I floor it!

Run Eric! Run!! I shout
I'm trying, slow down! Eric screams with agitation
Nunca! Run faster! Jump in!

If you could just pause. take a moment and visualize this scene.

A huge tour bus stuck behind a skinny running boy wearing a baseball helmet (that is what they gave us) trying to jump in a dune buggie driven by me, a person who hasn't driven any type a vehicle in about a year. It was an astounding site.

We made it pretty far, but when you are out of gas you are out of gas, and eventually you just stop. So when this happened I had to pull out the good 'ol thumb and just start walking. I told Eric to stay behind and guard our piece of shit while I hitched a ride into town. A truck picked me up and thirty minutes later I rescued Eric and we celebrated over Ecuador's only type of beer- Pilsener.

What a day what a day.

the reason why

2009-07-08T18:18:00.005-06:00

There is a reason why I haven't been able to update ask much as I'd like... in brief, it is because I've been hiking 15,000ft snow-capped active volcanoes like Cotopaxi (Ecuador's highest active volcano)

I'm from Mississippi which means I don't know the meaning of snow or cold or anything that freezes. In this 2 day hike to the summit I could feel my lungs do cartweels in my chest angry that I thought defying gravity was a good idea. I made it, finally.. and as much as I hated it at first, it was an amazing experience.

_____________________________________
I also hiked another crazy mountain (14,000 ft) and have been hitchiking- I'll explain later, but right now I've got to figure out a way to the jungle....

¿Qué hora es?

2009-07-06T06:19:00.002-06:00

Hmmmmmmm. well today marks my 4th and last day in Quito. It is a sprawling city with sooo much to do.. Everyday has been extremely busy so far and I don't foresee me slowing down at all. My days have started at 6:00AM and have ended somewhere along midnight, which is something I discovered by walking down the street and noticing that every coffeeshop was closed. Was it a holiday? I thought. Probably not. ¿Qué hora es? I asked. Son las cinco y media the lonely guy on the street informed. Ohhhhh, that explained everything. If only I had a watch I wouldn't wake us early and maybe I could get to places on time, but I am on a budget (a strict one at that and one I'm probably going to greatly bust) so I'd rather use my money to buy Alpaca sweaters, strange food on the street, and of coarse- cerveza:) For now, asking someone what time it is actually is a pretty good conversation starter.

A serendipitious experience in Colombia.

2009-07-01T15:19:00.008-06:00

Serendipity the faculty of making fortunate discoveries by accident.

This word accurately sums up the strange unfolding of events that luckily happened to me in Colombia. One minute I'm waiting in the airport in Bogota, and the next I'm having a flight attendant apologize to me while I stare dumbfounded by what is happening. I couldn't tell if my bag got lost or if I was about to get deported. All I could catch in the riff-raff of airport lunacy was,
Lo siento, lo siento. Venga, por favor.

Damn, I thought, whatever she was saying was probably really terrible so I decided my best defense was to play the "no entiendo" card and keep a firm stance. I had a list of excuses and practiced phrases for when the time was going to come when they asked about my onward going ticket. I had already sneaked through two gates and was not about to get sent home on the third. I was going to tell them that I left the flight copy in my check-in bag, or I have buss ticket, or I'm a student, or pleaseee just don't send me back!! Then this girl from Miami who I had been talking to started to congratulate me,
"Wow! That is great. I can't believe you just got a free round-trip ticket to anywhere in the world!"

Huh? I said.

"Yeah" the girl from Miami continued "Since they overbooked your flight they are compensating you with a round-trip ticket, putting you up in a hotel for the night with a free dinner and breakfast, and you are getting on the first-class flight to Quito in the morning."

At this point my confusion had escalated into baffled enthusiasm! I had purchased a ticket to Quito, Ecuador with a layover in Bogota because it was cheaper to fly there instead of Colombia, but I had no intention to hop on the connecting flight. If only the dear flight attendant lady knew that this wasn't a problem at all, but a dream come true! I only paid $175 bucks for the flight from Costa Rica to Bogota and now they are giving me an open ended voucher good for one year to anywhere Avianca fly's to. Wahooooooo!

Anyway the lady takes my hand and leads me and a handful of pissed off others to this underground VIP room in the Bogota airport. Alright, now I'm going to get to see how the drugs are smuggled through:) We wait and wait and wait and finally we get our new tickets for the morning, the round-trip voucher, and airport pick-up to the hotel which ended up not being a hotel but a resort! It took me nearly 30 minutes to clean the drool from my face because of how far my jaw dropped when I opened the door to my room. There was a huge walk-in glass shower with more showerheads then I have fingers or toes. I had never been so excited about showering in my life until I saw that bathroom! There was a surround sound IPOD system, 30inch flat screen, bottled room service, 2 themperpedic mattress beds, and an entrance to a garden..

I still can't believe it. I have a ticket back to the States or Europe or Asia or who cares! I'm just glad serendipity finally found me.

-----------

Word History: We are indebted to the English author Horace Walpole for the word serendipity.Walpole formed the word on an old name for Sri Lanka, Serendip. He explained that this name was part of the title of "a silly fairy tale, called The Three Princes of Serendip: as their highnesses traveled, they were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things which they were not in quest of...."

-----
what I've learned from this fabulous tale is that quests are meant for conquering and conquering means possession and anything possessed can be lost. The only thing that matters is what one may discover along the way. So keep your eyes open and your mind wider to all things thought impossible because nothing ever was to begin with. Impossible is just the stuff that hasn't been discovered yet.

mis amigos!!

2009-07-01T11:47:00.014-06:00

Since I got to the airport ridiculously too early (i.e 6 hours...) I figure now is the time to upload more pics. I'll keep posting more as soon as my friends post them on facebook or whatever else they got because I haven't taken a single photo since I've been here. Why? ohhhh well because I brought the camera, but left the memory card. Brilliant!

an assortment of us folks in front of the school.

these are two very handsome folks named Jerry & Shae. Jerry likes to smoke cigars and get "rowdy". Shae likes Regina Spektor as much as I do and lives in Arizona. We all like coffee & bicycles. And this is starting to sound like a personal add on craigslist. My apologies.

Sometimes I would be walking down the street and a horse would randomly appear, like this one.

Puerto Viejo.. the best napping spot in the entire world.

Shae is a lot cooler then I am, probably smarter too, and definitely better looking, which all equates to freakin' awesome!

Andres is a pretty upstanding fellow as well! We were going to rent bicycles and ride them to the beach (which was about 50 miles away..) but decided that was a silly idea after we saw the San Jose traffic and the Costa Rican mountains. So we took the bus instead.

I just like this one.

Sabinilla bar. Right across the street from my house and is Costa Rica's version of a dive bar. Cheap drinks, dirty, and always has regulars.

this was karaoke night and me being ridiculous

last night in San Jose

2009-06-30T12:49:00.003-06:00

Tomorrow I will be in Colombia... yeeeeeeeehawwwwwwww! Two weeks ago my enthusiasm about landing in one of the most dangerous places in the world, alone, at midnight, with no certain direction to go, was a bit obsolete. I was more apprehensive then excited, but somewhere in the last 10 days I'm really looking forward to it. Perhaps it is because I'm getting restless in Costa Rica. After a month of being here I can honestly say I've seen it all. It is a beautiful, culturally rich and diverse country that I have thoroughly enjoyed exploring, but I am ready for some Ecuadorian hitchhiking, Andes mountaineering, WWOOFing at a Chilean vineyard, teaching children, Bolivian hostel volunteering, and encountering the unexpected. Costa Rica was a nice easement into what is to come, but tomorrow and really the rest of my journey's from here, are going to be left up to the unpredictable.

Here, I lived in a nice home with a wonderful lady named Lily who cooked the most delicious meals and always made sure I had clean clothes. The last time I lived that well was when I was in the 5th grade! If only Lily knew that before I came here I ate pizza off of a trash can, have a pair of underwear that I found on the streets of New York (I drycleaned them by the way..) and bicycled an ungodly amount of miles everyday she probably wouldn't believe me. In Costa Rica, I feel like I have been living the high-life, which makes me feel a little odd. When I leave here I'll be back to the old ways of peanut butter tortilla wraps and rationed beans. Every now and then I'll splurge on ceviche or a mojito or a cappuccino, but I like seeing what is the minimal I am able to survive on. It makes me appreciate things much more, and understand the weightlessness of not being bound.

Like the Stars say, "when there is nothing left to burn you have to set yourself on fire."

beer fruit

2009-06-25T08:36:00.006-06:00

Mamochino, my new favorite fruit. A beautifully odd spike ball of a thing that looks like it should live at the bottom of the ocean..

This is the placenta-like, martian baby part you eat. Sounds unappetizing, but tastes amazing!

Ohhhh Imperial. Not as good as it looks, but for $1.40 I really can't complain.

Thoughts on San Jose

2009-06-24T08:54:00.006-06:00

As my time in Costa Rica comes to an end I figure here is my chance to explain my thoughts about it. Hmm, hmmm, let me begin with San Jose.

- PDA is out of control. I have never seen so much hands on, lip-locking, cop-a-feel, ain't ashamed, let's dry hump in a field, or on a bench in the mall action then here. It has been explained to me that this is part of the culture. Since it is not socially accepted for girls and guys to go over each others homes they make do elsewhere. If this actually prevents teen pregnancy, I don't know, but it is definitely helping the public learn the steps to third base.

- Terrible is a mild way to describe traffic. You have a 50% chance of dying every time you cross the street. Pedestrians do not have the right-a-way. The roads do not have distinct lanes. The car honking here would mute New York City. Taxi drivers pretend they don't speak Spanish or English. No such thing as speed limit. Every San Jose car owner should move to LA and become stunt drivers. Everyone drives a standard. [Good news] The public transportation system is impeccable! The US should take a few pointers in this department.

- Music & movies from the States is inescapable. For an entire month I tried to find a place that showed foreign films. I had no idea that my quest for a good Spanish film would turn into disappointment. The closest I got was Hannah Montana dubbed in Spanish. No thank-you. Music is the same. I've heard more 80s music from the States then ever. Ohhh globalization.

- Mannequins go to the plastic surgeon before they head to the mall. What do I mean by this? They are curvaceous and busty, and when I say busty, I mean breast that resemble inflated balloons.

- Food food food. When in doubt just say, Quisiera comida tipica, por favor. and you will get a heaping mound of rice, beans, meat, plantains, salad, and juice for under $3 bucks. This translates to affordable deliciousness.

- Nightlife can be a little pretentious. If you are from Dallas, I think you'll be fine. But don't worry, there are cool dive bars & the karaoke here is nothing short of amazing.

- Let's talk liquor You got two choices of beer. Imperial or Pilsen. Both taste like Natural Light. The reason? Well, Costa Rica has a national brewery and so that is the only thing you are going to get. They also make their own liquor from sugar cane called Guaro. Surprisingly, it isn't sweet but very smooth. It is a lot like vodka minus the potato taste. The typical mixed drink is guaro and fresca. As far as open container laws.. They don't exist and you can even bring your own boos to the bars.

- Oi Rasta! I got this everywhere I went. Sometimes it was funny, sometimes it was annoying, but often useful. People gave me discounts on things if I let them touch my hair, a little strange, but it saved me a few bucks here & there. The most frustrating part was trying to explain to folks that I'm not a Rastafarian from Poland. No one seemed to understand, so towards the end I just learned to accept it.

I'm a one-hit-wonder karaoke singer

2009-06-24T00:49:00.003-06:00

A few shots, several beers, and one hour later.. I find myself on stage at a karaoke bar belting out My Girl and Bust a Move. Next thing I know I'm dancing with the prettiest girl in the room and getting roses handed to me by a bunch of guys. I'm not sure why or exactly how that happened, but I had one fantastic time nonetheless. I think I'm going to continue karaoke when I get back to the States. Apparently I don't look as silly as I feel, plus I got a lot of free stuff singing with a prompter and seawalking across the dance floor. The downside is that somewhere along the night I lost my voice again. Oh well. Oh well. And goodnight.

adios escuela!

2009-06-21T20:13:00.004-06:00

I have my last Spanish test in the morning. If I pass then I'm one giant step closer to graduating! I think I only have one semester left and my tentative schedule will be: jogging, Texas history, and canoeing (wish I was joking, but I'm not).

adios escuela, hola Colombia!

An appeasing evening of art at Teatro Nacional

2009-06-18T22:51:00.008-06:00

Every now and then I like to go to a fancy place. So last night I buttoned-up my one and only dress shirt, put on some slacks, got in a cab, and then found myself stumbling through the front doors of the most prestigious building in all of San Jose-- Teatro Nacional. The building was constructed out of so much marble and gold I felt that it should be located at the end of a rainbow. The architecture and artwork was astounding. The attention to detail from everything to architectural structure, life-like marble sculptures, ceiling paintings, and the blatant depiction of colonization distributed throughout all of the art/infrastructure was very interesting.

(History spiel below)

Costa Rica didn't gain independence from Spain until 1821 but Teatro Nacional wasn't completed until 1897. The reason for its construction was because of a famous Italian opera singer, Adelina Patti, who refused to sing in Costa Rica because there wasn't an appropriate enough theatre for her perform. Appalled and embarrassed by how Patti's comment implicated that Costa Rica was inadequate, the rich coffee plantation owners decided to put a levying tax on all exported coffee to raise the funds to build Teatro Nacional to prove that they were indeed independently wealthy from Spain. However, they commissioned Europeans to build Teatro Nacional and ended up with a replica of a typical Spaniard style building. The women in the artwork were drawn to resemble European beauty instead of Costa Rican since darker colored skin was still considered inferior at this time. I find it fascinating at how Costa Rica made an earnest attempt to prove their originality and individuality, but instead got this beautiful replica of a building that only depicts colonization after they gained independence. I didn't mean to go on a tangent.. I just find it ironic & fascinating.

(Back to the story)

The reason I went was to see a piano concerito. Little did I know that it was Sergio Saldi who performed and played some of my favorite, less recited pieces from Bach, Beethoven, Schumman, and Prokofiev. He was very thematic and played with this magnetic fervor that was exciting to watch. I sat intrigued on the 4th row absorbing all I could from the setting, the sound, the applause, the silence. Any type of art that I can watch unfold, especially from someone who is talented and passionate about what they do, what they are creating, I'm awed by. It's been a while since I've had a tranquil evening like that, and one I'm probably not going to experience again for a long time.

Salud! to a night filled with fancy cocktails, button-ups, impressive piano playing, and gold-plated everything.
______________________________

Pianist

I called him fervor.

The way his fingers reminded me of waves breaking shore upon the keys.
Every hair of mine resonated like the ping of tambourines as he played.

We all watched
delicate.

crippled,
by how the pianist was able to make our blood breathe.

every key struck shook the dust off of us

for there is no need for words when the unspoken says enough
language leave me now for all I need to understand is

a blink
a smile
a clap

but I know that when this ends we all will leave
back to the traffic and the debris

we will forget fingertips made of fire
the city built underneath the notes he pounded out

our words will come back
as we attempt to explain what it was we felt

but no matter how hard we try
our words will never be able to capture the sound

Lions, tigers, and bears... Hell yeah!!

2009-06-17T18:10:00.007-06:00

Corcovado.

One of the most difficult places to get to in all of Costa Rica. A piece of land that houses the most biodiversity than all of Costa Rica combined as well as one of the most impressive in the world. It is basically Costa Rica's Amazon. From San Jose it would take me at least 10hrs of bus rides, figure out how to cross the Drake Bay, hop aboard a Jeep, and depending on where I would get dropped off I would have to hike anywhere from 4 hrs to 2 days. It is the only piece of land in Costa Rica where tigers exist and contains the most venomous snakes (most will release enough poison to kill a person within less than 4 hours and with the nearest hospital located 6 hours away it isn't hard to infer that your chances of survival if bitten are less than good). There are piranhas, killer bees, African ants, and wild boars as well. This place is survival of the fittest and bravest. Every Tico I have talked to has told me not to travel here alone, and I never thought that I would until I was reading an article about how an American backpacker got lost in Corcovado for 2 days and came across and indigenous tribe!! Half dehydrated and about to give up hope he came across the only indigenous tribe in all of Costa Rica. I haven't made up my mind yet about whether or not to attempt the unthinkable, but lately the unthinkable is the only thing I've able to think about.

Corcovado here I come!

Pictures Finally!!!!!!

2009-06-16T17:25:00.025-06:00

If you look close you will see a tornado in the distance. Do you know where I was during this? Stuck in the canopy of the Rainforest overlooking a waterfall

random rock art on Montezuma beach

part of a mural

doing what I do best.. thinkin'...

The view

Jerry & I taking a break from getting beaten up by the ocean

Beach hiking in Montezuma at 7:00AM

Chicos.. The only bar in Montezuma where me and this fem boy named Nikita got mistaken for "newlyweds". We thought it was great so for the rest of the trip we decided to claim each other as life-partners:)

Montezuma waterfall II

Montezuma waterfall

Deb and I at the top of the Rain Forest

Every morning these monkeys would climb the trees next to our balcony and throw mangoes to us.

Montezuma is covered with these friendly little neon colored crabs!!!

And some still believe that dinosaurs never existed... sureee, I say, try telling that to this guy

white throated magpie bluejay decided to join us for eggs, but I like to call him Spudnik (Montezuma)

What of it? I think smoking a Cuban and playing poker with Tinkerbell cards @ 8:00am is a wonderful idea

La Luna Llena hoste, Montezuma II

La Luna Llena hostel Montezuma

Gulf of Nicoya sunset heading to Montezuma II

Gulf of Nicoya sunset heading to Montezuma

La Escuela!

Good times in our beautiful bungalow in Puerto Viejo

Comida Tipica... a heaping mound of rice, beans, fruit, and meat for $2.50 US dollars :)

Volcano Irazu.. Still active & the Ninja Turtle green water below changes a different color everyday

This was part of a Macadamia nut and coffee plantation.

another beatiful view

The Amazing Race to Montezuma

2009-06-15T13:41:00.009-06:00

Montezuma is a town.. no let me rephrase that.. more like a village. It is this cute/eclectic/bohemian/bizarre/tranquil community that takes forever and a day get there, but when you do it is quite apparent why no one wants to leave. The village is the size of a small square consisting of 8 restaurants, a food store, 4 hostels, and a bar. They even have a phone book that is literally 1 page! One side of the town is the Rain Forest and the other is the Pacific Ocean. I guess that is why it took 4 buses and a ferry ride across the Gulf of Nicoya to get there. After about a days worth of transportation all 11 of us (10 ladies and a gent to be exact) managed to make it. We stayed at the beautiful Luna Llena hostel perfectly situated in the middle of the Rain Forest overlooking the ocean. I don't know exactly how I did it, but I managed to book us an entire part of the hostel for only $10 bucks a piece a night. The hostel even came with monkeys who thought it was funny to throw mangoes at us in the morning and iguanas that resembled dinosaurs. Absolutely breathtaking place! The waterfalls of Montezuma were equally as stunning, but the hike to them was another adventure. We were warned by the manager of the hostel that if it starts to rain to immediately get out of the waterfalls because landslides are quite common and happen rapidly. We smiled and said we understood as we continued on our way- me looking like a gypsy pirate, Kaitlin in the yellow sundress, and Jerry the only Gent. After an hour of slipping on river rocks, hanging on to whatever vegetation we could find on 90 degree angles, and trying to get rid of barefooted mountain man who came out of nowhere we made it to the roaring waterfall! We jumped off the cliff just when the sky decided that it was a good time to rain. We all looked at each other wondering what to do next. Should we take our chances and stay in the waterfall? Should we curse the sky? Should we hike back? I decided to take control of the situation by suggesting we climb to the top of this canopy we passed and wait for the rain to stop. It never crossed my mind that it could rain harder and we would get stuck in the worst place possible...on top of the trees... over the waterfall. We stayed stranded for about an hour in a colossal downpour until we all thought the best thing to do was to take our chances and hike back down all of the 90 degree angles we had to walk up. Luckily, we came across a short cut that led us to another trail that wasn't as near as dangerous as the one we found on our own. When we got back to the hostel, though, Debra was sitting there with a cup of coffee smiling and eager to show us what she saw. We all huddle around her video camera and see the replay of the tornado that just finished dancing over the Pacific Ocean. Hmmmm, I think, now that is a story. The time I went hiking and got stuck in a Rain Forest canopy with a boy and a girl in a yellow sundress during a tornado over the ocean.

Later that night we all decided to go to the food store and get the supplies to make a cheap and delicious dinner. 15 avocados, 3 packs of tortillas, frozen shrimp, and a bottle of rum later we have one enormous bowl of guacamole, scrumptious fish tacos, and thirst quenching mango mojitos. After we were all fed and happy the only thing left to do was go to Chico's, the only bar in town. I left my shoes at the hostel and danced like the floor was on fire and met my favorite dancing partner of all time. His name was Nikita. He was quite possibly the cutest boy I have ever seen wearing his tight black pants, shirtless, barefoot, and totting a white purse. He was dancing like a madman all alone and I just couldn't help myself so I decided to join him on the dancefloor. Next thing I know everyone in the bar clears out the middle and it is just me and Nikita dancing as if we are dodging stars with no care in the world at how out of rhythm we probably were. While dancing for 4 hours with Nikita I discover that he is a Russian immigrant turned impressive New York artist who decided to escape the city and come to Costa Rica for a few weeks with his buddy Dan. He and Dan hitchiked from San Jose to Montezuma and somehow got to stay in this unfinished mansion. I wanted to talk to Nikita more on the dance floor but when 4:00AM came I had to tell him farewell.

Everyone else decided to get back at 6:00AM and wake up the rest of us to go hiking to the beach. With only 2 hours of sleep I managed to wake back up and fumble my way downstairs to the free coffee. For some reason I decided that it would be wise not to bring shoes since we were going to the beach, but little did I know that the beach we were going to was about 2 miles away. We walked across everything from sharp rocks, seashells, hot black sand, and driftwood. By the end of the day my feet felt like limp bags of pudding, but the beach was gorgeous. Jerry and I decided to run as fast as we could and tackle the waves, but instead they ended up knocking us face first into the sand and gave us both whiplash. I wouldn't exchange my ocean bruises for nothing, though:)

Montezuma has been my favorite place so far. It has definitely been the most adventurous, scenic, and eclectic. It is it's own little entity, which in that aspect, reminds me of Austin. A town that confuses the hell out of some and comforts others. A place where people just are and enjoy being..

My top 10 of Montezuma:

10. Meeting the town drunk named Table (he is the equivalent to Leslie "the queen
of Austin" minus the bad drag
9. Making enough guacamole to feed the city
8. Attempting to bitch-slap the ocean early in the morning with Jerry
7. Seeing the tornado over the ocean
6. Dancing the night away at Chico's with Nikita
5. The ferry ride at sunset
4. Me loosing my voice while attempting to light a Cuban cigar @ 8:00AM with a
citronella candle. (bad idea)
3. Staying in the beautiful Luna Llena
2. Getting stuck in a Rain Forest Canopy and jumping off waterfalls
1. The new stories I have and the inspiration I got by going there

Cartago

2009-06-10T06:51:00.000-06:00

Cartago (june 4, 2009)

Through the city
I sit on the back of buses
just rhythm and tongue, rhythm and tongue

feel the bends in the earth
notice the glisten of sun and hardwork on the necks of those
who don't have faces

these busses contain stories spoken through passing conversations
don't tell me that paths don't cross.
That miracles can't open at forks in the road
perhaps the purpose of blackeyes and bruises
is for us to know that we got butterflies flying inside of us.

I close my eyes so I can feel
all of which I may never
be able to comprehend.

The moon and the mountain
the glow in the shadow
the town that can't be found on a map
the earth and it's constant rotation

and still I wonder as I sit on the back of these busses
if we are aware of what great existences we share

Debit card drama

2009-06-09T21:01:00.005-06:00

When my debit card got swallowed by the ATM machine I figured no need to fret, this must happen all the time, I was sure that all I would have to do is call a number and a new card would be sent to me within a few days. Terrible assumption! I should have known that when something like this happens it takes more than a phone call...

At first I contacted Bank of America online to cancel my debit card and get a new one since I do not have a phone and international calling cards are expensive. They said they would cancel it immediately but I wouldn't get a new card sent to Costa Rica for another 16 days. What! 16 days?!! I yelped. Here I am, 18 days left in Costa Rica, all I have is a one way ticket to Colombia and a handful of Colones coins and a $10. All of the money for my travels is on this little plastic pain of a card so not having access to my own money for the next 16 days thanks to a robbing ATM is not an option. I politely tell the online operator to give me another solution because the first one is pretty dumb. She then tells me all I have to do is call a number and within 3 days I will get it. Pefecto! Why didn't you tell me this before? I wondered. All problems solved, back to square one, nothing to fret about. Well after 15minutes of searching for a phone to use I finally found one, but the number she gave me turned out to be incorrect.

Long story short.

4 .5 hours, 18 telephone numbers, and 7 countries later- I get my debit card tomorrow with complimentary bonus cash. You know why??? Because I'm a business woman ;)

say it ain't so...

2009-06-06T05:35:00.003-06:00

I haven't been out of the country but 2 weeks and in the past three days I managed to get:

1) sunburned
2) blistered
3) robbed

And believe it or not, I had the time of my life despite it all!

It all started in this little Caribbean town called Puerto Viejo. After a 4.5 bus ride filled to the keel with a whole assortment of folks my friends and I finally arrived to this Rasta beach bum of a town. We drove through mountains, rain and fog, and banana plantations before we found the best bungalows in town- Coco Loco. If you are ever in Puerto Viejo this is where I'd suggest you stay, for 10 bucks a night you can't beat it! You may even get to meet who I deem the mayor because he had the ability to be everywhere at anytime. He was this little scrappy looking thing, greasy hair, cruising along on a rusted bicycle, partially blind, and humming tunes as he told you anywhere you wanted to go. I thought he was a great:) Along the 10 minute walk escorted by the mayor I could have sworn we had entered the whimsical land of Narnia. We came across
huge crabs walking the streets, roosters and chickens, so many dogs that I felt like Puerto Viejo would be a good location to film All Dogs Go to Heaven part IV, and horses just hanging out in the streets as well. This was literally a place where all is welcomed- no such thing as leash laws or open containers- and good reggae is played everywhere.

Since we got in at night we didn't do too much, but the next day I woke up bright and early at 5:30AM with the sun on my face, a small dog in my lap, and a gecko on my leg thanks to me sleeping outside on the hammock:) I think everyone else woke up around 6:30AM in which we all headed towards the beach to grab some breakfast and tackle the waves. After breakfast the smart ones started applying sunscreen while Jerry and I got distracted by a coconut tree in the distance in which we decided to climb the tree so we could crack coconuts and drink the juice instead of shielding ourselves with sunblock like the rest. This is the reason why my body is in pain right now. My face looks like a Hot Tamale and my back & belly could pass for a picturesque strawberry.

We rented bicycles and biked down the coast so we could see more of the scenery and get away from the crowds. We weren't at the beach for more than 10 minutes until our friend Lauren had to get rescued by a lifeguard because the riptide had nearly taken her to the middle of the ocean.
One minute we are leisurely biking and the next Lauren is doggiepaddling in the ocean while getting suckerpunched by waves! Needless to say, the lifeguard wasn't too happy with us so we moved on to another part of the coastline where we continued to play in the ocean and push through the waves for another 4 hours.

After we finished getting manhandled by the ocean and sunbathing on black sand beaches we got back on bicycles and rode back to town until the sky broke apart and started to downpour. It was one of those rainshowers that happens during clear skies; no thunder or lighting, just thick drops of rain falling from the sky... so so beautiful.... one of the highlights of my trip so far. It was a trail of us just laughing and living in the moment of it all while other people scattered about searching for their umbrellas. We took our time getting back to the bungalows in which I decided it was the perfect time to take an outdoor shower. I went inside and got my peppermint barsoap and began to scrub-a-dub-dub outside in the rain. Before I knew it we had a handful of folks partaking in the communal outdoor shower. We then just sat on the porch air-drying, someone started brewing coffee, I lighted up a Cuban cigar, and Jerry started reading Hemingway. It felt like I was living in a dream, all my favorite things happening at once: rainshowers, coffee, cigars, and good books, amongst strangers now turned quick friends all sharing experiences by simply existing. We finally all fell asleep and then woke up dry and ready for seafood, mojitos, and a night filled with dancing at this reggaeton club. We ate, drank, and got our groove on- spent way too much money- but had one full day of nothing but goodtimes.

Now that I've explained my sunburn and blistered feet from me not breaking in the sandals I bought a week before I left I can talk about how ATM machines turn into great white sharks. The next morning I realized I was running low on cash so I waltzed on over to the ATM machine to get some cash. Everything was working fine; my cash comes out, the receipt is printed, and then it tells me thanks and goodbye without giving me my card back! I think to myself Shit! I just got mugged by the ATM machine. Some guy outside tells me to call the bank, another informs me that they don't open until Monday which doesn't do me any good since I leave Sunday, and then a girl tells me not to worry because I couldn't get my card back anyway since ATM machines shred them once they ingest them. So there I am, burned and blistered, holding enough money to maybe get me through 3 days.

Pura Vida, I said, Pura Vida

Because when things like that happen there is nothing you can do but laugh about it and figure it out later.

2009-06-01T17:51:00.000-06:00

Things to remember when traveling to another country:

1) a translation book
2) a camera that works
3) more than 2 shirts

Did I remember these?? Of coarse not! But for some reason I packed 4 jumbo boxes of tampons and 3 toothbrushes as if they are items only found in the States. A translation book with how to conjugate words would make my life so much easier, especially in class, but instead I get to be the bum who looks on with someone else. For some reason I thought I would be speaking fluent Spanish the moment I set foot in Costa Rica, but I quickly found out that was just a self-imposed optimistic illusion. Maybe I'm being hard on myself, but today I realized how great my verbal handicap was when this beautiful girl sat next to me on the bus and I couldn't say a word. I couldn't say Hello because she would have proceeded (hopefully at least..) into a conversation in which I would embarrassingly have to stop her and say Lo siento, un poco hablo espanol. (I'm sorry, I speak a little Spanish). So instead I just sat there thinking to myself how unfortunate the situation was and practiced in my head what I would have liked to say:)

Now I know it must sound a little strange how someone could be traveling for 6 months and not remember to bring a camera. Well, I brought the camera, but it didn't occur to me that I might want to check if I had a memory card in the camera. While taking a bus to Volcano Irazu I realized this after I tried to look at the photos I had just taken and nothing was there. Luckily, one of my new friends, Andres, had a working camera and offered to send me copies. And as for my lack of clean clothes... I got donated 2 new shirts by a very nice girl. Things are looking bright so far.