So I will have to make this entry short becuase i am stayign in a house with ten other Rainbow Family, sharing one computer, bathroom, ect... but its been an adventure sthus far trying to get to the Rainbow Gathering. Luckily I have met some beautiful people here and am traveling with a caravan of gypsy women to the Gathering hopefully tomorrow. The original site for the Gathering got flooded, and everyone had to be evacuated about a week before I came so there has been frantic searching for a new site and one was finally decided on yesterday in Lewis Pass area on the road between Christchurch and Nelson in the middle of the South Island. Apparently it is nice, but filled with sand flies, a New Zealand delicacy that i have not ahd the pleasure of encountering yet. Anyway, it was a relief for everyone that a site was finally named and hopefully we can all get out of Lucy's (our gratious host) hair andgive her and her five year old son, Kaspian, some peace. It is quite lovely here. We are right on the beach and a German couple with an adorable baby are here as well, everything is done communally and we have kept the peace amongst the choas. Still I am happy to be moving on. Thus far all I have seen of New Zealand has given me the impression that is a less-diverse, less cultured Oregon. I know, I know, who woudl have thought I would ever call Oregon cultured or diverse but compared to New Zealand... it sure is. Also everythign here is about twice as expensive, probably cause their minimuim wage is twice ours but still, it hits my budget hard. I was also forced to buy a ticket to Sydney on the 20th of February cause you need a ticket out of New Zealand before they let you in and the internet was down in Nadi due to a cyclone that hit, wowsers that was a crazy day. Anyway, now I have a ticket to Oz, and have met a bunch of cool kids to kick it with there so it should not be half bad. There is also a music festival called WOMAD in Adelaide that a friend of mine wants to show me, and I am going to a festival here called Luminate. So when I get backto the States for our festival season I will have some international festivals to compare it to. Not half bad. Also I found a flight out of Perth to Bangkok for $124!!!! So Cheap, so it ends up beig cheaper to go to Oz, then fly straight from Aukland. That is if I do not get kidnapped by my beautiful Spanish friend, Barbara, to go live in Tahiti with her and surf and dive all day... tempting, tempting offer. We shall see, every day is a new days and it brings new treasures. Alright I should head to bead, and hopefully be off to the gathering tomorrow, which means no internet for a month (if it is a good gathering). So don't be alarmed if you don't hear from me for awhile... ciao, love and light! Oh and for any potential Rainbow Family reading this email here are the coordinates for the gathering:
Caves Stream.
It's in the way from Nelson to Christchurch, almost half way between this two. More preciselly, between Murchison and Springs Junction. Close to a town called Burnbrae (this is so small I didn't see it when going trough, maybe needed more attention)
On highway No. 65 there is a gravel road called Rappahanock Rd which then turns into Caves Rd. From there is about 30 min walk. The site is a beautiful valley with six streams converging into one. Gooogle Maps coordinates are
42° 6'21.90"S
172°17'4.24"E
or www.maps.google.com search for springs-junction
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Drift-in, my favourite hostel ever!!!
I know its a bold, bold statement, and probably not actually true... but right now drift-in is my favourite hostel ever! Not only is it only 7 dollars for my own private room, breakfast, dinner, internet, and free rides wherever I want to go, but when I got here my old crew from Mana Lagoon were all chilling here and we had a glorious reunion last ngiht, sponsored by a bottle of JD (compliments of the management). No One could go anywhere due to the current monsoon that is surrounding us so the crew that left Mana had just been kicking it here cause the staff is div ine and this place is the epitimy of chill. Did I also mention free laundry, cha-ching! But basically I love it here and the crazy monsoons have made it so I don't feel so bad leaving this beautiful country. Maybe I will come back on my wya back to the states after the hurricane season. Ok I am off its time to play poker in the rain....
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Bula, Fiji!!!
So since I am back in the Southern Hemisphere it seems time again to start blogging... and so it goes.... I love Fiji, absolutely love it!!!!! Love the food, the people are the friendliest people I have ever ever met, the weather is amazing, the scenery is gorgeous, and there is so much fun stuff to do. Granted I have not seen that much of Fiji, I mostly spent the last week in a paradise called Mana Island, staying at Mana Lagoon Hostel which was phenomenal!!! I could not imagine a nicer place to be... here is an excerpt from my journal on the island to enlighten one of the tranquil beauty of Mana...
"The sky is a light with a thousand colors of the sunset, slightly morphing every moment, giving one the impression that they are watching a symphony made by mother nature. The travelers and villagers alike have come to watch the giant orb slip below the horizon in a brilliant cascade of colors only brought by the winds of hurricane season on Mana Island. The wind caresses us all as we watch, laugh and love the sun down. Children are playing tag with the foreigners... 'run me, run me!" they demand in a jovial manner. And their game of tag brings joy and laughter to them that is as colorful as the scenery. This scene makes on happy to be in the presence of such beauty and in the company of friends, albeit it newly made ones. One would not know it form the familiority we all have with each other. Here away from family, we are each others' families, away from ones' best mates, we all become best mates. Away from our lovers, if we are willing and lucky, we find new loves. Newly made lovers caress each other as gently as the wind that blows in our hair, as softly as the pastels that light up the sky. Thoughts of home are far off in this surreal paradise. There is a truth I have found here in Mana and everyone, the locals and travelers alike, seem to realize it: the moment is now, and it is all that we have.
As the colors fade, and the stars struggle to make their entrance against the cloudy sky, the dancers get ready to make new light. They don their costumes and grease up their bodies. The travelers play with children, the lovers sigh, the villagers relax, the kava begins to flow, and the magic continues. It is all around us; blowing in the breeze, within us and before us. Experience the magic..."
Obviously, I was a bit ridiculously romantic in that passage, but Mana does it to you. The subtle blues of the sea and the sky, lull one into a sense of peace that one only finds in an island paradise.
My days consisted of a very flexible routine that follows: way up on my tent on the beach to clouds tinted with the sunrise, read until breakfast, each a delicious meal, then go swimming, do yoga, snorkel, explore the island, scuba dive or sea kayak, then eat a scrumptious meal, then another afternoon activity possibly making jewelry out of coconut shells, go for another swim, eat a delicious dinner, then some kind of evening entertainment frequently hula and Polynesian dancing followed by fire dancing, then us dancing, or cross-dressing night (so, so, so... funny), or card games and talking. Lots of kava drinking as well, bitter concoction that numbs your mouth and gives you a bit of a lulling buzz. The occasional midnight skinny-dip, you know the usual.
Probably the biggest highlight of my trip was when I was diving with sharks solo with an instructor cause no one else signed up... so there we were seeing an unreal amount of sharks. One came five feet away from me and just starred at me, no worries though, they are not dangerous. Anyway, after a stellar dive we resurfaced only to have the driver point out a pod of dolphins swimming by, so we quickly got into the boat and chased after them. We caught up with them and ran with them for a bit, they were doing flips and tricks with their babies (so adorable) and then we killed the engine and dove in and swam with them for a bit. Definitely my highlight. I felt like the sea just gave me an enormous blessing, and to top it off my dive instructor told me that in his 7 months working on Mana I was only the second person besides him to get to swim with dolphins that he knew of. I felt pretty special....
OK enough typing I must go eat delicious, delicious curry... there is a huge East Indian influence because the British brought over East Indians in colonial times here. Which has resulted in an unique blending of Polynesian, African, and East Indian culture, language and cuisine. mmmmm....
"The sky is a light with a thousand colors of the sunset, slightly morphing every moment, giving one the impression that they are watching a symphony made by mother nature. The travelers and villagers alike have come to watch the giant orb slip below the horizon in a brilliant cascade of colors only brought by the winds of hurricane season on Mana Island. The wind caresses us all as we watch, laugh and love the sun down. Children are playing tag with the foreigners... 'run me, run me!" they demand in a jovial manner. And their game of tag brings joy and laughter to them that is as colorful as the scenery. This scene makes on happy to be in the presence of such beauty and in the company of friends, albeit it newly made ones. One would not know it form the familiority we all have with each other. Here away from family, we are each others' families, away from ones' best mates, we all become best mates. Away from our lovers, if we are willing and lucky, we find new loves. Newly made lovers caress each other as gently as the wind that blows in our hair, as softly as the pastels that light up the sky. Thoughts of home are far off in this surreal paradise. There is a truth I have found here in Mana and everyone, the locals and travelers alike, seem to realize it: the moment is now, and it is all that we have.
As the colors fade, and the stars struggle to make their entrance against the cloudy sky, the dancers get ready to make new light. They don their costumes and grease up their bodies. The travelers play with children, the lovers sigh, the villagers relax, the kava begins to flow, and the magic continues. It is all around us; blowing in the breeze, within us and before us. Experience the magic..."
Obviously, I was a bit ridiculously romantic in that passage, but Mana does it to you. The subtle blues of the sea and the sky, lull one into a sense of peace that one only finds in an island paradise.
My days consisted of a very flexible routine that follows: way up on my tent on the beach to clouds tinted with the sunrise, read until breakfast, each a delicious meal, then go swimming, do yoga, snorkel, explore the island, scuba dive or sea kayak, then eat a scrumptious meal, then another afternoon activity possibly making jewelry out of coconut shells, go for another swim, eat a delicious dinner, then some kind of evening entertainment frequently hula and Polynesian dancing followed by fire dancing, then us dancing, or cross-dressing night (so, so, so... funny), or card games and talking. Lots of kava drinking as well, bitter concoction that numbs your mouth and gives you a bit of a lulling buzz. The occasional midnight skinny-dip, you know the usual.
Probably the biggest highlight of my trip was when I was diving with sharks solo with an instructor cause no one else signed up... so there we were seeing an unreal amount of sharks. One came five feet away from me and just starred at me, no worries though, they are not dangerous. Anyway, after a stellar dive we resurfaced only to have the driver point out a pod of dolphins swimming by, so we quickly got into the boat and chased after them. We caught up with them and ran with them for a bit, they were doing flips and tricks with their babies (so adorable) and then we killed the engine and dove in and swam with them for a bit. Definitely my highlight. I felt like the sea just gave me an enormous blessing, and to top it off my dive instructor told me that in his 7 months working on Mana I was only the second person besides him to get to swim with dolphins that he knew of. I felt pretty special....
OK enough typing I must go eat delicious, delicious curry... there is a huge East Indian influence because the British brought over East Indians in colonial times here. Which has resulted in an unique blending of Polynesian, African, and East Indian culture, language and cuisine. mmmmm....
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Robbed at knife-point Peruvian Hospitals... should have stayed in Huanchaco
So as I aimlessly strolled the streets of Lima, waiting to meet up with Whitney later that night. I heard my name being yelled across the square. I assume its anotehr traveler I have met somewhere along the way, but no its a Peruvian boy. And then he says, you know form Sun Valley, and it all comes back, its Fransisco, Marrianna´s (my roommate in Sun Valley)boyfriend. We are laughing hugging, he introduces me to his two friends Aldo and Martin, and we get straight to drinking and catching up. So we are having a smashing good time when I we decide it would be a great idea to grab some beers and a joint and go sit at the beach. So being with three big, local boys from Lima I think nothign of walking down the dark street to the beach. All the sudden three large men with knives are upon us, shaking my purse for everything they find interesting, my favourite necklace, my watch, my mp3 player, take my wallet, with my debit card and teh equivalent of 200 US I have just gotten out of the ATM earlier that night. The boys got everythign taken as well, wallets, cell phones, everything. And they were PISSED!!!! Apparently it was the first time any of them had been robbed in Lima. But honestly all was ok cause we had not been hurt, and I was unscathed... much worse could have happened.
But honestly not the best way to start off in Lima. Luckily they did not take the weed or rolling papers, so we ended up just rolling one in Parque Kennedy. Where, out of nowhere Gibby and Hamlin, two of my friends from Pomona, showed up. I knew they would be in Lima around the same time but total coincidence to find them, so they walked me back to my hostel where we kicked it and drank, beers they bought i was totally out of cash, and waited for Whitney. Anyway, long story short, no one takes my back up credit card and I am totally dependent on Whit for cash right now, at least until I can figure out how to get money wired down here or wired into her account.
So we grabbed Kimber the next day and booked it out of lima for Cuzco, only the night bus to Cuzco was somehow not running that night, and that night only, so we ended up comign to Huacachina and going sandboarding. Haucachina is a sweet little place to kick it by the poolside....
And the sandboarding turned out to be a fiasco!!!!
The dune buggy ride was afucking blast, ripping over dunes at extreme speeds as the sun was setting, absolutely gorgeous! And then came the sanboarding, Kimber and I strap in and I pretty much shoot straight down the dune and throw myself down to stop the speed, its a bit like snowboarding but pretty impossible to turn, Kimber fumbles down bit by bit, and so does Whit until out of nowhere she catches and edge and scorpions herself. Scorpioning is when you fall on your face and you board arches over your body and hits you on the head. So I rush over to see if she is ok, and there is blood, lots and lots and lots of blood coming out of her head. I cant exactly see where its comign from cause its coming from her scalp, in the midst of her hair but I take of my shirt and wrap it around her head to put some pressure onit and stop the bleeding and then we race off to the hospital.
Peruvian hospitals are shit, ther is nothign else i can say than that. You have to buy all the supplies from a pharmacy next to the hospital because they have nothign there, no gauze, no iodine, nothing... so i ran around like a chicken with my head cut off ttryign to get allthe supplies to stitch up Whitney´s ever-bleeding head, while Kimber is holding gauze toher head and translating everythign. Meanwhile, two different surguries are taking place, one man on life support, and one drunk who was puking and spitting at the nurses with a huge gash in his head....
Sheer insanity. Ok people are waiting for the internet, but main thing is Whitney is fine now and we are headed to Cuzco tonight, hopefully the curse of bad luck will be fixed then.
But honestly not the best way to start off in Lima. Luckily they did not take the weed or rolling papers, so we ended up just rolling one in Parque Kennedy. Where, out of nowhere Gibby and Hamlin, two of my friends from Pomona, showed up. I knew they would be in Lima around the same time but total coincidence to find them, so they walked me back to my hostel where we kicked it and drank, beers they bought i was totally out of cash, and waited for Whitney. Anyway, long story short, no one takes my back up credit card and I am totally dependent on Whit for cash right now, at least until I can figure out how to get money wired down here or wired into her account.
So we grabbed Kimber the next day and booked it out of lima for Cuzco, only the night bus to Cuzco was somehow not running that night, and that night only, so we ended up comign to Huacachina and going sandboarding. Haucachina is a sweet little place to kick it by the poolside....
And the sandboarding turned out to be a fiasco!!!!
The dune buggy ride was afucking blast, ripping over dunes at extreme speeds as the sun was setting, absolutely gorgeous! And then came the sanboarding, Kimber and I strap in and I pretty much shoot straight down the dune and throw myself down to stop the speed, its a bit like snowboarding but pretty impossible to turn, Kimber fumbles down bit by bit, and so does Whit until out of nowhere she catches and edge and scorpions herself. Scorpioning is when you fall on your face and you board arches over your body and hits you on the head. So I rush over to see if she is ok, and there is blood, lots and lots and lots of blood coming out of her head. I cant exactly see where its comign from cause its coming from her scalp, in the midst of her hair but I take of my shirt and wrap it around her head to put some pressure onit and stop the bleeding and then we race off to the hospital.
Peruvian hospitals are shit, ther is nothign else i can say than that. You have to buy all the supplies from a pharmacy next to the hospital because they have nothign there, no gauze, no iodine, nothing... so i ran around like a chicken with my head cut off ttryign to get allthe supplies to stitch up Whitney´s ever-bleeding head, while Kimber is holding gauze toher head and translating everythign. Meanwhile, two different surguries are taking place, one man on life support, and one drunk who was puking and spitting at the nurses with a huge gash in his head....
Sheer insanity. Ok people are waiting for the internet, but main thing is Whitney is fine now and we are headed to Cuzco tonight, hopefully the curse of bad luck will be fixed then.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Today was a good day,
Lovely day, lovely day, lovely day. I spent all day yesterday with Sarah clearing out bricks and rubbish from the site where we are goign to build an organic garden, compost, and chicken coup for this school in Huanchaquito. My friend Sarah is an architect and was asked to design an organic farm and compost at this new school in Huanchaquito. The school was built less than a year ago by a Priest and is funded by charity because the surrounding area is so impoverished. But not only is the shcool funded by charity and free for the kids, they also get fed breakfast and lunch, which serves as some ofthe kids only meals. It is quite a beuatiful and amazing school. After working all day clearing the garden yesterday, and chalking the lines for the layout of it, basically lots of manual labor, we just played with the kids today. It really touched my heart. there is nothign like being covered in hugs and kisses from ten little girls after playing with them all day. It made my want to get all sentimental and break down in tears.
Its funny because I knew there had to be a reason that volunteering in Bolivia did not work out, and this is it. I really feel like this garden project is a great cummulation of my studies, experiences and travels. I am getting to help design and create a garden that will not only provide vegetables and nutrients for these children but also teach them about gardening and the ecosystem, as well as creating a compost for them from what I learned about vermi-composting in India. Also, its so important for children to have gardens to play in, to have a green oasis in a sea of shacks and desert. The Padre got grass donated for the school, and just watching how dilligently they water it and how proud of their GRASS they are. Its amazing. Its a real community effort at the school, most of the cooks are also mothers, and everythign just gets donated for these children that normally have nothing. There is a ball pit, toys, games, see-saws. And all in a matter of months.
I am really lucky to be able to witness the grwth ofthe school, but also to be able tohelp further it with skills I learned at school.
Yesterday, I had a moment of clarity forthe first time, in a long time, that told me that I was exactly where I wanted to be. Funny though, becuase I have to leave Huanchaco for two weeks to travel with Whitney to Machu Pichu, but then after that I fully intend to come back and help with the rest of the garden. At the moment we are still waiting for potting soil and other materials so this is the perfect time for me to go, but I hope I can convince Whitney and maybe even Kimber to come help with the garden and the school. Becuase i think they would get just as much out of it as i have been.
Its funny because I knew there had to be a reason that volunteering in Bolivia did not work out, and this is it. I really feel like this garden project is a great cummulation of my studies, experiences and travels. I am getting to help design and create a garden that will not only provide vegetables and nutrients for these children but also teach them about gardening and the ecosystem, as well as creating a compost for them from what I learned about vermi-composting in India. Also, its so important for children to have gardens to play in, to have a green oasis in a sea of shacks and desert. The Padre got grass donated for the school, and just watching how dilligently they water it and how proud of their GRASS they are. Its amazing. Its a real community effort at the school, most of the cooks are also mothers, and everythign just gets donated for these children that normally have nothing. There is a ball pit, toys, games, see-saws. And all in a matter of months.
I am really lucky to be able to witness the grwth ofthe school, but also to be able tohelp further it with skills I learned at school.
Yesterday, I had a moment of clarity forthe first time, in a long time, that told me that I was exactly where I wanted to be. Funny though, becuase I have to leave Huanchaco for two weeks to travel with Whitney to Machu Pichu, but then after that I fully intend to come back and help with the rest of the garden. At the moment we are still waiting for potting soil and other materials so this is the perfect time for me to go, but I hope I can convince Whitney and maybe even Kimber to come help with the garden and the school. Becuase i think they would get just as much out of it as i have been.
Monday, May 18, 2009
So tonights been a weird night...
To say the least, tongiht has been a very interesting night. Maybe because i was on a lot of drugs, but mostly becuase my friend´s Peruvian boyfriend just opened up his soul and recreated his life story to me and my friend Sarah over the course of an evening. But it was absolutely fucked, its weirdness only paralled with its honsesty. Bertos life and story plays out like godfatehr or scarface, so unreal it is reality honestly. But fuck man, thats a lot to take on when you first meet someone. And Sarah is living full-on after only knowing him for two weeks... imagine! I cannot even explain what went on this evening but only know that I felt suffocated by the relatinship and I was only an inocent by stander... wow some people rally have emotional baggage. WOW.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Huanchaco!!!
So after a nasty 24 hour bus ride, I finally made it Huachaco, a little fishing and surfing town in the North Coast of Peru. The best way I can describe it is, an isolated Redondo Beach without the crime circa 1970. There are tons of little skaterpunks, and two main brakes. One large left break that can get up to 3 meters when it storms and if better with a short board, and one on the other side of the pier that brakes left but infinately more gently and is perfect for beginners and long boards. I have not tested the water though as I woke up completely covered in bed bug bits, and i mean covered. Everywhere my clothes werent I am biten all over. I am assuming I picked up bedbugs on my sleeping bag on the bus and then slept with it last night and thats where all the bites come from cause no one else in my hotel has any bites, but I am not sure. There is only one way to fidn out. I sent all my clothes to the laundry, showered, put on fresh clothes, and am going to change beds (my room has three beds, owe hot shower, cable TV with remote, and free internet 24 hours, all for six dollars) tonight. I also stocked up with antihistamines and antiitch cream at the pharmacy so hopefully my immune systema nd drugs will win out. If that does not work I am swtiching hostels tomorrow anyway, because as cheap as six dollars a night, I can get my own room next door for three, without TV but who needs TV when you are healthy?
Anyway besides being covered in bites I have had a stellar day. I met up with my friend Sarah-Jane who is volunteering here and had lunch with her Peruvian boyfriend, who is also a chef, yum..... and met his adorable niece who is seven named Fatima. We ended up spending the whole day painting, coloring, and rough housing. It was a blast and really nice to be in a home again and not in a hostel. Actually the family owns a hostel and Fatima pretty much begged me to move in with them. She was ridiculously adorable!!!!
I am going with Sarah-Jane to a school tommorrow to hep build an organic farm and compost system for the school. The school provides some of the children with the only real meal they get each day so its important for us to get a productive farm goign as soon as possible to help them get the nutrients they need and teach them how to garden in their own homes. I am really excited about the project and hopefully will come back and help Sarah-Jane after me, Whiteny, and hopefully Kimber get done trekking to Machu Pichu. Hopefully all three of us can come back here and volunteer, its a pretty chill surf town and really cheap to live here. So everythign is pretty ideal right now for putting down some roots. Plus Sarah is dating a local, Roberto, and that gives us a lot of ins... all in all things look promising.
Canon del Colca was also stunningly beautiful! Spent three days there hiking around with Jimmy, but I will let the pictures speak for themselves...
Saturday, May 9, 2009
From Bolivia to Peru
So much has happened since I last blogged, I would like to blame it on the slow internetin Bolivia... but lets be honest... I was just totally carried away by everything going on. Which is a good thing right? Its the way one should travel, no?
Anyway, frist and foremost Condor Trekkers ended up being a bust. Pete and Jimmy, our Australian friend who refers to Americans lovingly as Sepos (as in septic tanks, apparently the Aussie´s loving nickname for us)- but who I love all the same becuase he is halaroius and quite a great guy, came with me to Sucre to go on one trek with Condor Trekkers before they went off to La Paz. The first shocking dissapointment with Condor Trekkers was that Randall, the guy who started it failed to tell me that they were not legal, at all, and had never led any trips in the two months of emailing back and forth betweeen us it totally slipped his mind to let me know taht there would be no trips to lead when I got to Sucre and that i did not have to rush down from Colombia, where I was having a lovely time, to get to Sucre. But I digress the foundation that i was going to volunteer at, Nanta, sounded splenddid and I was all set up to be the resident nurse and swim teacher when I was not in the field leading trips, which was giong to be never, and all was still ok... until we actually went on a trip with Randall and the other volunteers...
I don´t know how else to describe the trip except as a beautiful disaster.... the scenerey was gorgeous, the people were amazing- we were accompanied by two Australian Geologists, another awesome Australian guy, and a German girl who was amazing but Randall literally kicked off the trip becuase he thought she would not be able to make the hard hike (which she then took her own gear and did on her own becuase it was easy), yet it was sooo pourly planned by Randall that it ended up a disaster. I have had twelve year old kids who could read a map and plan a trip better than he could. He had apparently done the hike fve other times but never had any idea where to camp at night or stop for breaks, and was completely inept at finding obvoius paths. The worst part though, is that he had three competent guides, Pete, the Australian girl who worked for NOLS, and me and refused our help every time. The last straw though was the last day we were already late starting out to make our one shot at transport at noon that day, and he decided to go an alternate route that he did not ask directions to, had not consulted a map, did not now where our maps were, and then was unable to follow Pete and I when we found the quickest way to the transport (which happened to be over a peak, which was extremely steep and we basically had to slide down on our butts to make it to the road in time). Everytime Pete or I would point him in the right direction, he would go up a ravine that led nowhere, while we would be on the ridgeline telling him exactly where to go.
The bottom line, is what kind of tripleader takes the group an alternate route, that he does not know and has not scouted or consulted a map, when they are already late to begin with becuase they have a sick girl. It resulted in Andy, the girl´s husband having to double pack, down one of the steepest mountain faces i have ever seen. Needless to say the man was an imbecile and I could not stay in Sucre and work with such an incompetent person.
But I did stay in Sucre with Jimmy for thier labor day weekend whcih was filled with dancing, merriment, and the best band I have seen in South America yet- a ska band called Calipso. We then headed to La Paz, spent a few last glorious days in La Paz, eating Pizza and watching movies on our cable TV that we splurged for (sometimes it is sooo good to veg), and then headed to Lake Titicaca.
Lake Titicaca was breathtaking, literally, it is 3800 meters of Isla del Sol, which is though tto be the birthplace of the Incan Gods. Rightfully so, the scenery there was phenomenal and we saw one of the greatest sunrises I have ever seen over the Andes while we were there, from our bedroom window.
Now Jimmy and I are in Arequipa and heading to Cholca Canyon tomorrow, which s the second deepest canyon in the world, to see Condors and go hiking in the great abyss.
The plan is to the go to the beach down here and then charter a flight over the Nazca lines, which apparently were made thousands of years ago but can really only be appreciated by air... supposively amazing rock creations of condors, lizards, spiders, and more.
Then I plan to head up to the North Coast of Peru and visit a girlfriend who is volunteering up there and veg out on the coast, playing in the waves and possibly setting up a family homestay and volunteer for after Whitney comes...
YAY!!! Whitney is coming to hike Machu Pichu with me, which looks as if it may be the bang that finsihes out my trip. She flies back to LA on June 1st so I am thinking of joining her then, kicking it at the beach in Socal for a week with all my friends in LA, and then flying home before Hune 12th for my cousins graduation. Which works out well becuase summer term for Portland State starts June 22nd and I have to get all my stuff straightened out for that. Since Obama has cut all fudning for abstinence-only education, and things look promising in the States for comprehensive sexual health education polcies and programs it seems it may be tme for me to get back on track to get my prerequisites and GREs done to apply for the Masters of Public Health and Physicians Assistant program at George Washington that I was checkng out before I lefty the country...
So that is the update, things are scheduled to change, and most definately will, but I am defiantely hiking Machu Pichu with Whitney and definately going to the canyon with Jimmy tommorrow for a few days... and I am definatley running out of money... so in all likelihood I will be back home in the States soon and able to give my love to all of you personally, or at least over the phone. Time to enjoy the spicy Arequipan food!
Saturday, April 25, 2009
I am so high right now... higher than anywhere in the continental US
So I am pretty high right now, way higher than anyone in the continental U.S., and have been for a week or so. I am currently in Potosi, the highest city in the world, I dont remember its exact elevation but I think its over 4600 meters, which is ridiculously high... well over 15,000 ft. Its crazy though, I have not had any alititude sickness since coming to Bolivia. Sure its hard to walk up and down hills, especially with a back pack, and yes I get random head-aches at times, but then you just pop some coca leaves in your mouth with a licorice alkaloid and ZAM!!!! No altitude sickness, its pretty nice. I just got back from a three day tour of the Bolivian Salt Flats which were amazing, but actually reminded me of Death Valley and Southeastern California excpet uplifted 4000 meters. So stunning, I have to make this short cause I have dinner plans soon, but we saw an Emu, fox, crazy rabbit-like-thingy that looked like it was from another planet, lots of Flamingos, tons of Llama and Alpacas, and some amazing landscapes. I will try to post up pictures because words cannot describe the eerie beauty of the landscape. There were also tons of rock outcrops that we bouldered on that reminded me of the southwest. Actually Bolivia, thus far, reminds me a lot of the Southwest US. It is shocking really, find myself feeling at home here, especially becuase the people look and act a lot like Nepalis. This is a good thing though, becuase starting Monday I am going to volunteer with an organization called Condor Trekkers that leads trips in the Andes and gives allthe proceeds to street kids that we train to be guides. I cant express how excited I am to be settling down for a month or two and volunteering. Its nice to travel but I miss feeling productive and having a sense of community. I am not too sure how well I will do trekking at altitude though, its much harder than one would think. But I have been adapting reasonably well thus far. Ok off to dinner.
Monday, April 20, 2009
"Coca Si, Cocaine No!"
So I am in La Paz, Bolivia and I whole-heartedly agree with the Bolivian President when he said, "Coca Si, Cocaine No!" Coca is an absolutley amazing wonder plant that helps with altitude sickness and revitalizes the body and soul, but after watching the epic benders that have been going on here in the hostel, I would have to say no to cocaine. I was at the Coca Museum today and there is an indigenous poem about the healing properties of coca and how it is medicine and magic in the hands of the natives, but drives the white devils mad. Pretty true in my experience. La Paz, and my hostel, is swimming in Cocaine. Its so cheap here, less than 10 dollars a gram that people do it pretty constantly and some of my mates stayed up for two days in a row on a bender. There is even a bar called Route 36, which is a secret after hours coke den that is only for Gringos, that serves grams right to your table. I went with a few friends two nights ago after dancing, just to check out the scene. It is an old renovated hours with blankets over the windows, lots of couches, but an over chill scene with good beats. The funny thing is that the waiters expect that if you go there you are going to buy coke. But supposively the coke is shit there and laced with speed so we obviously did not want to buy, and you should have seen the look on the waiters face when we told him we did not want any coke. At first I think he thought we were just having trouble deciding how much we wanted, but after a bit it finally dawned on him that we were not going to buy any coke and he gave us one of the dirtiest looks i have ever seen.
Never in my life have I been chastized for NOT buying drugs, what a trip. Oh and the other wierd part about Route 36 was that they were actually playing good beats, everyone was all coked up, and NO ONE was dancing. They were just all cracked out starring at each other.... a bit wierd if you ask me. Eventually Pete, our new Australian friend, and I started a dance party and some other people joined in a bit. But there we were, the three people not on coke, dancing around in a coke den while all these tweekers just sat and snorted lines.... totally La Paz.
Ok so that is not La Paz, but it is a tourist side of La Paz, I have also spen t the last few days trekking around the city, going down every random street i can find just getting a feel for it, and it is GORGEOUS here. La Paz is situated in a high altitute calley amongst the snow capped Andes. You walk around the city and see all the houses carved into the hill-sides and the snowcapped peaks starring back at you. It is unique and breath-taking, literally i have trouble breathing when I walk up the steep streets cause of the altitude, but I have been drinking plenty of coca tea and water and I am aclimating pretty well. We also went to see a local wrestling show where women and men wrestled each other. It was pretty bizarre, and I guess is Bolivia's take on female empowerment, but really it just turned out to be a cheesier, phonier version of professional wrestling from the States. The first act was kind of amusing, but the second act was literally two men pretending to beat up a woman, and every once in awhile she would fight back, but it sent shivers up my spine to watch allthese yound bolivian children watching the wrestling of two men mand-handling a local women. Even though it was all for "show", they pulled her braids and threw her around the way I have seen men do to their wives in India and it was way too realistic for me. I left after the second act with a bad taste in my mouth. Luckily my two friends left with me and we watched the sunset over the city from a tall hill, and then went out for fabulous Indian food. My one friend that was with me at the wrestling has my ideal job. He goes around the world setting up health education programs in rural villages for children. He is from Denmark and works there for about three weeks to every two in the field. It sounds aboslutely amazing, and has really inspired me to find my ideal job. I met another man who works with human rights issues from London and travels one week for every three back in London. Both of these jobs sound absolutley ideal to me.
Ok so much has happened, especially in Colombia, but I might have to go to bed now. I am exhausted from traveling the city so much and we are headed to the Salt Flats tomorrow morning for a Jeep tour. I can't wait to get back into the desert!
Never in my life have I been chastized for NOT buying drugs, what a trip. Oh and the other wierd part about Route 36 was that they were actually playing good beats, everyone was all coked up, and NO ONE was dancing. They were just all cracked out starring at each other.... a bit wierd if you ask me. Eventually Pete, our new Australian friend, and I started a dance party and some other people joined in a bit. But there we were, the three people not on coke, dancing around in a coke den while all these tweekers just sat and snorted lines.... totally La Paz.
Ok so that is not La Paz, but it is a tourist side of La Paz, I have also spen t the last few days trekking around the city, going down every random street i can find just getting a feel for it, and it is GORGEOUS here. La Paz is situated in a high altitute calley amongst the snow capped Andes. You walk around the city and see all the houses carved into the hill-sides and the snowcapped peaks starring back at you. It is unique and breath-taking, literally i have trouble breathing when I walk up the steep streets cause of the altitude, but I have been drinking plenty of coca tea and water and I am aclimating pretty well. We also went to see a local wrestling show where women and men wrestled each other. It was pretty bizarre, and I guess is Bolivia's take on female empowerment, but really it just turned out to be a cheesier, phonier version of professional wrestling from the States. The first act was kind of amusing, but the second act was literally two men pretending to beat up a woman, and every once in awhile she would fight back, but it sent shivers up my spine to watch allthese yound bolivian children watching the wrestling of two men mand-handling a local women. Even though it was all for "show", they pulled her braids and threw her around the way I have seen men do to their wives in India and it was way too realistic for me. I left after the second act with a bad taste in my mouth. Luckily my two friends left with me and we watched the sunset over the city from a tall hill, and then went out for fabulous Indian food. My one friend that was with me at the wrestling has my ideal job. He goes around the world setting up health education programs in rural villages for children. He is from Denmark and works there for about three weeks to every two in the field. It sounds aboslutely amazing, and has really inspired me to find my ideal job. I met another man who works with human rights issues from London and travels one week for every three back in London. Both of these jobs sound absolutley ideal to me.
Ok so much has happened, especially in Colombia, but I might have to go to bed now. I am exhausted from traveling the city so much and we are headed to the Salt Flats tomorrow morning for a Jeep tour. I can't wait to get back into the desert!
Friday, April 10, 2009
Taganga....
So there are no words to describe how beautiful Taganga, Colombia is.. but I´ll try. Imagine the Sea of Cortez in the Baja mixed with Greece, and then Brazil´s amazingly vibrant culture and nightlife....
Ya I love it here, and I wish I had more time here. Everyone I have talked to pretty much feels the same way, Colombia just has amaizng vibes. The people are soooo nice here. There is a poster advertising Colombia in our Hostel and the caption on in says, in Spanish, ´the danger is... you´ll never leave´! And its true, Colombia feels the safest of anywhere that I have been so far, a lot of other travelers agree. Hoenstly people are so nice and most of the prices are fixed prices. Anyway, enough raving on and on about Taganga...
But seriously folks, Taganga. Fruit smoothies here are less than a dollar, beers are around fifty cents, street food and Ceviche are plentiful, and there is music and dancing every night... not to mention a perfectly temperate Carribean Sea within a minutes walk of the hostel. So I hasve spent the last few days swimming, hiking, reading, drinking 1-3 fuit smoothies a day, laying on the beach making jewelry, and dancing all night....
So there you have it,my number one choice for paradise so far: Taganga.
I am starting to miss the Americans though, I never thought I would say it but I met a bunch of Americans that own a Mexican Restaurant in Santa Marta today and it hit me... Damn I miss my friends from back home! There is something about the humor and cockiness that almost no other nationality has... Except English who have a bit too much of both, ha ha, oh I love to generalize all nationalities.
However, I do miss my friends from back home... and just being familiar with someone´s background and culture... its nice sometimes. But I guess I will be seeing you all at Burning Man anyway sooo....
Monday, April 6, 2009
Fuck Paris, Cartagena is the most romantic city in the world!
I know its a big claim, but its true, Cartagena is in my opinion the most romantic city in the world... especially at night. Pete and I both agreed that it is the perfect pace to whisk away a lover too for a romantic week. In the ideal situation we would both have enough time and money to be able to surprise or imaginary significant others with a plane ticket down here (actually that part is quite doable cause they are only two or three hundred dollars round trip from the States), and then set up in a awesome, air-conditioned (that part is key)room in theold part of town (preferrably with a view). Everything here is so cheap and very stylish that you could just wardrobe your lover here so it could be a total surprise, and then spend the week lying in bed during the heat of the day and strolling the gorgeou city at night, maybe have dinner at the beautiful restaurant on top of the wall at sunset... you know the usual. But everything here drips with subtle romance and beauty, its an amazing ambiance. Seriously, lovers consider it for a get away; its cheap, in close range of the States, and here you can definately embrace the hopeless romanitic inside you. Ok, I am exhausted and to embrace sleep.
Colombia and LOVING it!!!!
So I know I have only been here a day, but Cartagena and Colombia are my favourite destinations thus far. We flew into the city at night, which offered us a splendid panoramic view of the walled city of Cartagena, and it has been awesome ever since! I spent the morning strolling through the walled part of Cartagena marveling at the vibrancy, colors, flowers, architecture, and beautiful people. Everything here is just exponentially better than Central America... the people are soooo nice, friendly, and generally happy (at least it seems so). Even the catcalls I get are nicer, in a softer tone, and unoffensive. Most of the time the men, at a respectful distance, gaze and respectfully tell me that I am beautiful... now that I can get used to. Even the shopkeepers here don´t pressure you to buy, and will honestly tell you if something does not look good on you. It´s amazing. Maybe its the heat... maybe it just makes everyone a little more relaxed and a bit happier. I definately want to come back here; when its not so hot, I have more time, and I have more money. But for right now I am loving what I see. If only it were not so mind-numbingly humid. It is the humidity that kills, and I completely understand the importance of a siesta here. One cannot function in the middle of the day. I am having trouble just writing this email... hmmm... siesta time, at least for a bit, Pete and I have a date with the sunset that we have been keeping religiously. I think today we willhead to the castle...
Sunday, April 5, 2009
The Panama Canal....
The Panama Canal is over fifty kilometers long, and was built in yada, yada, yada... Now imagaine that repeated over and over again in Spanish and English while you sit on a tall platform and watch ships SLOWLY go by. And thats pretty much it really, definately not work the $5 entrance fee to Mirador Locks visitor center. But luckily Pete and I snuck in and did not have to pay the fee anyway, ya I know we are ridiculously cheap. All in all though I was not that impressed. I do think it is interested though, the history behind the Panama Canal and how the US funded Panama's seperation from Colombia in order the instigate the construction of the Canal, talk about meddling. Ok going to enjoy the last little bit of Central America, we fly out in ten hours to Cartagena, Colombia!
Friday, April 3, 2009
Panama City!!!!!
Oh the glory of modern cities, and what a city Panama City is, what a city. Pete claims its nicer than Lisbon, Portugual, and I trust him. Do you know what it means for a city in Central America to be nicer than a city in Western Europe, it means that Panama City is one sweet, clean, beautiful city. Ok it does help that we are situated in the old restored part of the city in an old Colonial house that serves as a hostel called Luna's Castle. We actually did not intend to stay at the infamous Luna's Castle when we first arrived, but "the Lord works in mysterious ways". I know I am an aethist but honestly is the best phrase for how we got here. Perhaps I should go back to good old Costa Rico and tell the story properly, but for that I have to go way... way... back...
So after Frenchie left Pete and I both felt a deep sorrow, as if a part of us was missing, and decided to forget our saddness by way of some good old fashion trekking. Thus, we headed to Corcovado National Park on the Osa Penisula, which is without a doubt the most beautiful part of Costa Rico and the best way to spend I could have possibly spent three days in Costa Rico.
Pete and I were astounded by the wildlife we saw, in the first hour of hiking we stumbled upon a massive animal about the size of a small cow munching away of leaves and bugs that we both assumed to be the largest ant-eater EVER. We were told later, that we were dead wrong by Felix the Costa Rican guide. He told us, as he nursed a fallen baby woodpecker back to health with coconut milk, that it was actually a Tapir (look it up), which were endangered in the area. He then offered to smoke me out, which brings me to another random tangent. If at any time any semi-decent looking white girl should want a confidence booster she should come down to Central America. Really. There is not a day that goes by that I am not hit on more times than I can count. It's horrible.
As you all know I don't need a confidence booster, I already have a much too big ego already, and the machismo culture of Central America is KILLING me. I honestly want to slap most men in the face, but my arm would tire if I actually attempted to slap every man that made a lewd gesture, comment, suggestion, or even physically started hitting on me. There is no relief here at all. It is actually debilitating how often and rudely I get hit on. I am forced to seek white male company while I walk places at night and sometimes even at day because at least the comments are not as bad if the men assume I am with my boyfriend.
It definately takes some getting used to, and I have gotten angry at Pete multiple times for leaving me places at night where I have to walk by myself for any period of time. Its is not his fault though, he just forgets the lack of rights women have here and has never seen the kind of attention I get when I am alone.
So as amazing as Panama City is, the catcalls here are as bad as ever and I still feel like a piece of meat whenever I walk down the street. The men call to me as if I am a common whore, and let out grunts that sound as if they are imagining fucking me which make my skin crawl. However, the Panamanians are no where near as bad as the Nicaraguans, who were by the far the worst in terms of machismo and sexual harassment. For while the grunting, catcalls, and lame attempts at conversation that most men in Central America are bad enough, the Nicaraguans actually touch and grab at you. I have discussed this at length with many of my girl friends down here and they all agree: Nicaraguan men are the WORST.
For example, one afternoon I was lying on the beach on Isle de Ometepe in Nicaragua reading my book, minding my own business, when a local Nicaraguan man came up to me and tried to talk to me. I was not painfully rude to him, but I ignored him as I usually do, and asked him to go away. About a half hour later he came back, closer in my personal bubble, hovering over me as I read, right in my face trying to talk to me. I of course sprang up and away from him and started gathering my stuff, and asked him to go away. He then, I think he was flustered by my sudden movements, came even closer to me and tried to restraint me from gathering my stuff. Which of course lead me to pulling away and screaming at him in the poor spanish I know, to "Fucking leave me ALONE!" Ok actually I started yelling at him in english as he came advancing and grabbing me, and I kept retreating and yelling at him. Which after about five minutes of the fight, I think he finally got hte picture that I did not want him there (a bit dense no?)and started to walk away, but then changed his mind, picked up a very large stick (about four feet long and a few inches thick in diameter) and started coming towards me, fortunately half-way to me he must have changed his mind again cause he twirled around, broke the stick on his legs and stormed off. Maybe what changed his mind was my violent opposition to him in the first place, maybe it was the fact I held my stance and laughed at him "as if to say what are you going to do with that", but regardless it was an experience I hope to never revisit again. On the other hand, my violent opposition to being grabbed and hassled in the first place might have spurned his violence. I guess I will never know, but honestly what did he expect was going to happen when he approached me the second time after being turned down once? Did he think I was just going to change my mind and fuck him there on the spot? Mind you he was a particularly unattractive man to begin with, and when has that EVER happened as a response to invading someone's personal space like that?
Anyway, I was talking about Corcovado, which was breathtakingly beautiful and definately the most wildlife I have seen on this trip so far. The first day we saw a slew of monkeys, a herd of wild boars of all sizes, a few tapirs, a few occelots (which are SOOO cool they look kind of like a badger and a cat mixed), a lot of parrots, a lot of Scarlet Macaws. Infact, I am almost positive that it was the bird's mating season. All of the Parrots and Macaws flew in pairs and bickered constantly. At first it was so magical to be among the jungle, looking at the Pacific Ocean, and hearing the bords squawk above, at first. Then I just wanted them to shut the fuck up. I mean these birds were REALLY going at it, for hours at a time. And I though human married couples fought a lot! Oh and the howler monkeys, man do they wake you up at the crack of dawn, literally. Anway, the one down side of Corcovado was that Pete fell ill with a horrible fever and sore throat the first night, which changed our hiking route a bit. Luckily though, his fever was gone by the third day and he was able to hike out the 22 km that we hiked in. This forced me to carry the heavy pack the whole time and brought back that old familiar trekking burn that I love and have missed. I had missed the long days on the trail, the familiar ache in the thighs, the relief of letting putting your bag down at the end of the day ready to make camp, the silence as you watch the sunset physically exhausted but mentally afire.... So I have decided to volunteer in Bolivia with a group called Condor Trekkers and lead treks in the Andes in May. I have been swapping emails with the coordinator of Condor Trekkers, which essentially is a NGO that helps street kids get life skills and funds itself by leading treks in the Andes with tourists, and I am all set to start working there in May. Housing is supposively ridiculously cheap and he will help me get all settled in when I get down to Sucre, Bolivia, and I could not be happier. It will feel so good to make a home for myself down there, even if it is temporary one, be leading trips again, and volunteering with local street kids.
First though, I have until Sunday night in Panama City. Afterwhich Pete and I fly to Cartagena, Columbia and have two weeks there before having a massive coke-binge (just kidding mom???) for my birthday in Bogota and leaving the country April 17th with a massive hangover for Bolivia.
Then I travel with Pete around Bolivia for a bit and start volunteering in May until my money runs out...... Not a bad way to spend my summer... hiking in the Andes... Somehow everything is working out so perfectly for me I can hardly imagine it. Just twenty four hours ago Pete and I were being driven around Panama City by our retarded cab driver who could not find the first hostel we had intended on staying at, Zuly's, and then could not find the second one, Luna's Castle. Even though we had a map of the city. Finally Pete and I screamed enough you incompetent fool, who in retrospect was probably stoned out of his mind, and jumped out of the cab with our bags and walked our way here (don't worry we only paid him the original fare we agreed upon $6- for what turned out to be a one hour ride), to good old Luna's Castle... where I walked into reception and saw a girl wearing a clue necklace which came from Burning Man and I knew I was home! It turns out that she has NOT been to Burning Man, but IS from Eugene and works the Country Fair every year, and actually so does most of the hostel staff... Home Sweet Home. Nothing is sweeter than randomly running into Oregonians when you travel, cause hey- you know they are chill, and to top it off a girl I know from Pitzer College works at the hostel too and is heading down to Colombia two days after Pete and I...
Coincidence? I think not...
"Nice, nice,
All the things,
in the same device"
So after Frenchie left Pete and I both felt a deep sorrow, as if a part of us was missing, and decided to forget our saddness by way of some good old fashion trekking. Thus, we headed to Corcovado National Park on the Osa Penisula, which is without a doubt the most beautiful part of Costa Rico and the best way to spend I could have possibly spent three days in Costa Rico.
Pete and I were astounded by the wildlife we saw, in the first hour of hiking we stumbled upon a massive animal about the size of a small cow munching away of leaves and bugs that we both assumed to be the largest ant-eater EVER. We were told later, that we were dead wrong by Felix the Costa Rican guide. He told us, as he nursed a fallen baby woodpecker back to health with coconut milk, that it was actually a Tapir (look it up), which were endangered in the area. He then offered to smoke me out, which brings me to another random tangent. If at any time any semi-decent looking white girl should want a confidence booster she should come down to Central America. Really. There is not a day that goes by that I am not hit on more times than I can count. It's horrible.
As you all know I don't need a confidence booster, I already have a much too big ego already, and the machismo culture of Central America is KILLING me. I honestly want to slap most men in the face, but my arm would tire if I actually attempted to slap every man that made a lewd gesture, comment, suggestion, or even physically started hitting on me. There is no relief here at all. It is actually debilitating how often and rudely I get hit on. I am forced to seek white male company while I walk places at night and sometimes even at day because at least the comments are not as bad if the men assume I am with my boyfriend.
It definately takes some getting used to, and I have gotten angry at Pete multiple times for leaving me places at night where I have to walk by myself for any period of time. Its is not his fault though, he just forgets the lack of rights women have here and has never seen the kind of attention I get when I am alone.
So as amazing as Panama City is, the catcalls here are as bad as ever and I still feel like a piece of meat whenever I walk down the street. The men call to me as if I am a common whore, and let out grunts that sound as if they are imagining fucking me which make my skin crawl. However, the Panamanians are no where near as bad as the Nicaraguans, who were by the far the worst in terms of machismo and sexual harassment. For while the grunting, catcalls, and lame attempts at conversation that most men in Central America are bad enough, the Nicaraguans actually touch and grab at you. I have discussed this at length with many of my girl friends down here and they all agree: Nicaraguan men are the WORST.
For example, one afternoon I was lying on the beach on Isle de Ometepe in Nicaragua reading my book, minding my own business, when a local Nicaraguan man came up to me and tried to talk to me. I was not painfully rude to him, but I ignored him as I usually do, and asked him to go away. About a half hour later he came back, closer in my personal bubble, hovering over me as I read, right in my face trying to talk to me. I of course sprang up and away from him and started gathering my stuff, and asked him to go away. He then, I think he was flustered by my sudden movements, came even closer to me and tried to restraint me from gathering my stuff. Which of course lead me to pulling away and screaming at him in the poor spanish I know, to "Fucking leave me ALONE!" Ok actually I started yelling at him in english as he came advancing and grabbing me, and I kept retreating and yelling at him. Which after about five minutes of the fight, I think he finally got hte picture that I did not want him there (a bit dense no?)and started to walk away, but then changed his mind, picked up a very large stick (about four feet long and a few inches thick in diameter) and started coming towards me, fortunately half-way to me he must have changed his mind again cause he twirled around, broke the stick on his legs and stormed off. Maybe what changed his mind was my violent opposition to him in the first place, maybe it was the fact I held my stance and laughed at him "as if to say what are you going to do with that", but regardless it was an experience I hope to never revisit again. On the other hand, my violent opposition to being grabbed and hassled in the first place might have spurned his violence. I guess I will never know, but honestly what did he expect was going to happen when he approached me the second time after being turned down once? Did he think I was just going to change my mind and fuck him there on the spot? Mind you he was a particularly unattractive man to begin with, and when has that EVER happened as a response to invading someone's personal space like that?
Anyway, I was talking about Corcovado, which was breathtakingly beautiful and definately the most wildlife I have seen on this trip so far. The first day we saw a slew of monkeys, a herd of wild boars of all sizes, a few tapirs, a few occelots (which are SOOO cool they look kind of like a badger and a cat mixed), a lot of parrots, a lot of Scarlet Macaws. Infact, I am almost positive that it was the bird's mating season. All of the Parrots and Macaws flew in pairs and bickered constantly. At first it was so magical to be among the jungle, looking at the Pacific Ocean, and hearing the bords squawk above, at first. Then I just wanted them to shut the fuck up. I mean these birds were REALLY going at it, for hours at a time. And I though human married couples fought a lot! Oh and the howler monkeys, man do they wake you up at the crack of dawn, literally. Anway, the one down side of Corcovado was that Pete fell ill with a horrible fever and sore throat the first night, which changed our hiking route a bit. Luckily though, his fever was gone by the third day and he was able to hike out the 22 km that we hiked in. This forced me to carry the heavy pack the whole time and brought back that old familiar trekking burn that I love and have missed. I had missed the long days on the trail, the familiar ache in the thighs, the relief of letting putting your bag down at the end of the day ready to make camp, the silence as you watch the sunset physically exhausted but mentally afire.... So I have decided to volunteer in Bolivia with a group called Condor Trekkers and lead treks in the Andes in May. I have been swapping emails with the coordinator of Condor Trekkers, which essentially is a NGO that helps street kids get life skills and funds itself by leading treks in the Andes with tourists, and I am all set to start working there in May. Housing is supposively ridiculously cheap and he will help me get all settled in when I get down to Sucre, Bolivia, and I could not be happier. It will feel so good to make a home for myself down there, even if it is temporary one, be leading trips again, and volunteering with local street kids.
First though, I have until Sunday night in Panama City. Afterwhich Pete and I fly to Cartagena, Columbia and have two weeks there before having a massive coke-binge (just kidding mom???) for my birthday in Bogota and leaving the country April 17th with a massive hangover for Bolivia.
Then I travel with Pete around Bolivia for a bit and start volunteering in May until my money runs out...... Not a bad way to spend my summer... hiking in the Andes... Somehow everything is working out so perfectly for me I can hardly imagine it. Just twenty four hours ago Pete and I were being driven around Panama City by our retarded cab driver who could not find the first hostel we had intended on staying at, Zuly's, and then could not find the second one, Luna's Castle. Even though we had a map of the city. Finally Pete and I screamed enough you incompetent fool, who in retrospect was probably stoned out of his mind, and jumped out of the cab with our bags and walked our way here (don't worry we only paid him the original fare we agreed upon $6- for what turned out to be a one hour ride), to good old Luna's Castle... where I walked into reception and saw a girl wearing a clue necklace which came from Burning Man and I knew I was home! It turns out that she has NOT been to Burning Man, but IS from Eugene and works the Country Fair every year, and actually so does most of the hostel staff... Home Sweet Home. Nothing is sweeter than randomly running into Oregonians when you travel, cause hey- you know they are chill, and to top it off a girl I know from Pitzer College works at the hostel too and is heading down to Colombia two days after Pete and I...
Coincidence? I think not...
"Nice, nice,
All the things,
in the same device"
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Oh San Jose
Back in good old San Jose, where the showers are hot and vegetarian food is plentiful... I love it here!!!! After an exhausting two weeks in Nicaragua it was surprisingly nice to pass over the border to rich, green, Costa Rico. Anyway I have to make this short cause we are heading to Dominical for some surfing and sniff, sniff, some quality time with Frenchie as this will be his last week with us.
He was planning on sailing to Columbia with us and heading back to France in May, but he has been busted by the French government for collecting unemployement while out of the country and has to high tail it back to France where he faces a 5000 Euro fine!!! Yikes!!! But he has assured us that he will start working again, save up tons of money and come to Burning Man and road trip around the States with us in the Fall. So the three musketeers will be reunited... but damn Pete and I will miss our chain smoking, coffee, drinking, sarcastic French friend.
Anyway, after Frenchie leaves us we are heading into Corcovado National Park on the Osa Penisula for some quality trekking in the most biodiverse region in Central America... heaven. Then we may go for a bit more surfing in Pavones, or just high tail it to Panama and try to get a good crew to sail to COlumbia going...
Who knows, I will write more about my adventures later... but for now the Pacific is calling me (and Pete). Pura vida!
He was planning on sailing to Columbia with us and heading back to France in May, but he has been busted by the French government for collecting unemployement while out of the country and has to high tail it back to France where he faces a 5000 Euro fine!!! Yikes!!! But he has assured us that he will start working again, save up tons of money and come to Burning Man and road trip around the States with us in the Fall. So the three musketeers will be reunited... but damn Pete and I will miss our chain smoking, coffee, drinking, sarcastic French friend.
Anyway, after Frenchie leaves us we are heading into Corcovado National Park on the Osa Penisula for some quality trekking in the most biodiverse region in Central America... heaven. Then we may go for a bit more surfing in Pavones, or just high tail it to Panama and try to get a good crew to sail to COlumbia going...
Who knows, I will write more about my adventures later... but for now the Pacific is calling me (and Pete). Pura vida!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Dona Elba´s, some of the best cigars in the world
Today´s been a good day!
Last night we were sitting with our newfound friend, Ricardo, at the Irish Pub to celbrate St. Paddy´s Day when Ricardo busted out these lush cigars for everyone ot smoke. I mean top of the line cigars. I have smoked expensive Cubans before and they don´t have anything on Dona Elba´s. So obviously the inquisitive person that I am I inquired as to where the exquisite cigars were made, as to which Ricardo replied, "Here in Nicaragua, the owner´s a friend of mine do you want to tour the factory tomorrow?"
Hell´s yes!!!! So I have just spent the last few hours kicking back drinking rum and passionfruit juice, in rocking chairs, smoking some of the finest cigars in the world, with the owner of Dona Elba, talking politics and life.
His advice: "Men have two problems in life; business and women, cigars help relax you and give you perspective on life."
Is this true? I am not sure I am a woman. I do know that cigars help you to relax though, and take a woman´s mind off of the two problems she has: men and the problems men create.
Seriously though, what an enjoyable way to spend the afternoon. The factory was not as much of a factory as it was an old colonial house with a beautiful garden and a pet parrot where some locals roll cigars to show the proccess to tourists. It was very informative and pleasant. Apparently, most of the tobacco leaves used in Cuban cigars are actually grown in Nicaragua, due to its nutrient rich volcanic soil. Also, according to polls done by cigars.com Dona Elba´s organic cigar is ranked third by consumers in the United States, and I can confirm that they have some amazing cigars there. Because Ricardo was friends with the owner, we got to just kick it with him, smoke massive amounts of free cigars and talk politics.
And the good daughter that I am I got my Daddy a nice mahagony box of the finest cigars Don Elba makes, 90% organic tobacco that has been aged for three years and double rolled. He alraedy has plenty of books, but now his study can smell of "rich mahagony" and cigar smoke. For my Burning Man compadres I have a box of the 50% organic cigars that are ranked third in the nation, and for my older brother a leather snake skin and mahagony cigar case that holds two cigars for a baseball game or outting. And the owner cut us a SWEET deal, these cigars boxes go for hundred of dollars in the U.S. and are worth every penny due to their supreme quality, oh and he literally gave us ten free cigars in the process. As we stayed longer he kept throwing different types of cigars at us, "Try this", "try that one", "one for the road". What an awesome guy.
Anyway, the cigar smoking was followed by another kind of smoking at one of Ricardo´s friends "houses"; which was actually more of a shack behind a house, but it was great fun and we taught Ricardo how to make a pipe out of an apple. I felt bad fo rhim though, cause he was like, "It´s good shit, no?"
How do you tell someone that the herb they are smoking is actually not good shit, but just shit? That you are used to smoking the best herb in the world, at better prices and quality than the stuff he just got you?
"It´s shit." I guess it was not that hard.
Anyway, after enquiring about cock fights, (there are unfortunately none until Sunday and we will be on Isle de Ometepe then), we headed out for Gelatto. Can you believe it, three scoops of good Gelatto for $1? I love this place. The Gelatto was followed up by one of the most unhealthy, yet amazingly tasteful street foods I have ever had: fried cheese curds dipped in honey. Drooling yet? You should be, that stuff is amazing. I always judge the general unhealthiness of street food by the obesity of their vendors, and let me tell you the fried cheese crud lady took the cake. I hesitated at first to dip into this strange food, but after Pete gave me a sample of his I was SOLD. They actually melt in your mouth. Good thing we are leaving Granada for Isle de Ometepe tommorrow otherwise I would be in trouble. Pete has already eaten fifteen of them since discovering them yesterday afternoon (they are about the size of Chicken Nuggests but pure cheese), and I dont think my stomach could really handle it.
Ok nap time, I am pleasantly sleepy and full of cigar smoke, passionfruit and run punch, fried cheese curds, and Gelatto... time for a Siesta before we meet Ricardo for drinks and dinner.
oh yes and the links for cigar and volcano board pics:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2097454&id=13301719&l=9ea051d573
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2097786&id=13301719&l=174d76c873
Last night we were sitting with our newfound friend, Ricardo, at the Irish Pub to celbrate St. Paddy´s Day when Ricardo busted out these lush cigars for everyone ot smoke. I mean top of the line cigars. I have smoked expensive Cubans before and they don´t have anything on Dona Elba´s. So obviously the inquisitive person that I am I inquired as to where the exquisite cigars were made, as to which Ricardo replied, "Here in Nicaragua, the owner´s a friend of mine do you want to tour the factory tomorrow?"
Hell´s yes!!!! So I have just spent the last few hours kicking back drinking rum and passionfruit juice, in rocking chairs, smoking some of the finest cigars in the world, with the owner of Dona Elba, talking politics and life.
His advice: "Men have two problems in life; business and women, cigars help relax you and give you perspective on life."
Is this true? I am not sure I am a woman. I do know that cigars help you to relax though, and take a woman´s mind off of the two problems she has: men and the problems men create.
Seriously though, what an enjoyable way to spend the afternoon. The factory was not as much of a factory as it was an old colonial house with a beautiful garden and a pet parrot where some locals roll cigars to show the proccess to tourists. It was very informative and pleasant. Apparently, most of the tobacco leaves used in Cuban cigars are actually grown in Nicaragua, due to its nutrient rich volcanic soil. Also, according to polls done by cigars.com Dona Elba´s organic cigar is ranked third by consumers in the United States, and I can confirm that they have some amazing cigars there. Because Ricardo was friends with the owner, we got to just kick it with him, smoke massive amounts of free cigars and talk politics.
And the good daughter that I am I got my Daddy a nice mahagony box of the finest cigars Don Elba makes, 90% organic tobacco that has been aged for three years and double rolled. He alraedy has plenty of books, but now his study can smell of "rich mahagony" and cigar smoke. For my Burning Man compadres I have a box of the 50% organic cigars that are ranked third in the nation, and for my older brother a leather snake skin and mahagony cigar case that holds two cigars for a baseball game or outting. And the owner cut us a SWEET deal, these cigars boxes go for hundred of dollars in the U.S. and are worth every penny due to their supreme quality, oh and he literally gave us ten free cigars in the process. As we stayed longer he kept throwing different types of cigars at us, "Try this", "try that one", "one for the road". What an awesome guy.
Anyway, the cigar smoking was followed by another kind of smoking at one of Ricardo´s friends "houses"; which was actually more of a shack behind a house, but it was great fun and we taught Ricardo how to make a pipe out of an apple. I felt bad fo rhim though, cause he was like, "It´s good shit, no?"
How do you tell someone that the herb they are smoking is actually not good shit, but just shit? That you are used to smoking the best herb in the world, at better prices and quality than the stuff he just got you?
"It´s shit." I guess it was not that hard.
Anyway, after enquiring about cock fights, (there are unfortunately none until Sunday and we will be on Isle de Ometepe then), we headed out for Gelatto. Can you believe it, three scoops of good Gelatto for $1? I love this place. The Gelatto was followed up by one of the most unhealthy, yet amazingly tasteful street foods I have ever had: fried cheese curds dipped in honey. Drooling yet? You should be, that stuff is amazing. I always judge the general unhealthiness of street food by the obesity of their vendors, and let me tell you the fried cheese crud lady took the cake. I hesitated at first to dip into this strange food, but after Pete gave me a sample of his I was SOLD. They actually melt in your mouth. Good thing we are leaving Granada for Isle de Ometepe tommorrow otherwise I would be in trouble. Pete has already eaten fifteen of them since discovering them yesterday afternoon (they are about the size of Chicken Nuggests but pure cheese), and I dont think my stomach could really handle it.
Ok nap time, I am pleasantly sleepy and full of cigar smoke, passionfruit and run punch, fried cheese curds, and Gelatto... time for a Siesta before we meet Ricardo for drinks and dinner.
oh yes and the links for cigar and volcano board pics:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2097454&id=13301719&l=9ea051d573
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2097786&id=13301719&l=174d76c873
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
I fucking hate hot dogs!!!!!
How come, in a city "catered" to tourists like Granada there are no fucking vegetarian street food options? Actually there are no street food options past ten at night that are not hot dogs!!!! What the fuck, as you may have already been able to tell IO am a pit tipsy, a lot hungry, and have been forced to eat hot dogs for the first time since I saw the Simpsons where Lisa becomes a vegetarian. To paraphrase the episode, she goes through the lunch line with a tray and the lunch lady offers her chicken strips but she imagines baby chickens and says no, then she is offered lamb but she imagines baby lambs and says no again, finally she is offered a hot dog and she imagines, a snake, boot, tin can and a question mark. So true, what the hell are in hot dogs anyway, except for pieces of meat unable to be used as real meat and so they are pressed together, dyed and flavored, and vola! Hot dogs! Ok now imagine a Central American version of that... on a white bun, cold with ketchup and mustard... thats what I just ate, and I feel as if I will barf soon. In fact, it would probably be a good thing if I do, my stomach is turning over and I feel crazy naseaus. Stupid boys, I am completely blaming this on Pete and Frenchie who decided that it would be a great idea to drink our dinner, "saves money and gets you drunk"; well I am already a light weight and I had not eaten since breakfast due to the heat of the day and traveling all day so by the time we left the bar after a great St. Paddy´s day celebration I was drunk, and painfully hungry.
Then they boys eat hot dogs and leave me to wander around the city by myself at night trying to find food, honestly what good are they? The whole reason I travel with boys is so that I don´t hasve to wander around at night by myself. Otherwise I would definately be traveling alone, in fact I think I may need to remedy this situation by meeting up with some of my girlfriends down here and having some girl time where I can eat vegetarian food, gossip, go out dancing without two boys towering over me, and just generally have some space.
I might just be mad, sick, and tired, but I do enjoy traveling alone quite a lot and I have not been doing it since Guatemala so it might be time to remedy the situation. But it was a good night, we met a local guy who is going to take us to tour the cigar factories and maybe to a chicken fight tomorrow. I know what you think, tourist trap right, but honestly he went to college in the States and it just seems like he misses the company of Americans. We already explained to him we are broke tourist, but it does seem like it will be a hell of a time if I am judging from earlier tonight. Plus I absolutely love cigars, call me weird but I feel so powerful holding a stoggie in my mouth, ha ha. Ok I should head to bed.
Then they boys eat hot dogs and leave me to wander around the city by myself at night trying to find food, honestly what good are they? The whole reason I travel with boys is so that I don´t hasve to wander around at night by myself. Otherwise I would definately be traveling alone, in fact I think I may need to remedy this situation by meeting up with some of my girlfriends down here and having some girl time where I can eat vegetarian food, gossip, go out dancing without two boys towering over me, and just generally have some space.
I might just be mad, sick, and tired, but I do enjoy traveling alone quite a lot and I have not been doing it since Guatemala so it might be time to remedy the situation. But it was a good night, we met a local guy who is going to take us to tour the cigar factories and maybe to a chicken fight tomorrow. I know what you think, tourist trap right, but honestly he went to college in the States and it just seems like he misses the company of Americans. We already explained to him we are broke tourist, but it does seem like it will be a hell of a time if I am judging from earlier tonight. Plus I absolutely love cigars, call me weird but I feel so powerful holding a stoggie in my mouth, ha ha. Ok I should head to bed.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Maderas, Nicaragua
So once again I think I have Paradise…. In the most unexpected spot really. We arrived in San Juan del Sur expecting it to be beautiful and amazing with good surf at an arm’s reach. However, it was just another port/tourist town with a half finished Jesus statue on the hill, no surf to be had, and cold water… So we did what any disgruntled tourists would do, we got drunk and decided to explore the half finished resort at the end of the beach rather than participate in the lame tourist scene of seedy bars. It was a dark and windy night but from the base of the half finished hotel we found a road, leading up the hill towards, dun dun dahhh…. Jesus!
As we climbed the hill onwards, to Jesus, the half moon rose over San Juan and we could finally see what everyone raved about, a beautiful half moon bay surrounded by hills and lights. If only it were not so damned touristy, and onwards we climbed, at times the wind was so fierce I felt that I would be blown away but we pushed forth to our savior on the hill.
After some time we reached our savior, who was protected by barbed wire and fences. So we hopped the fence and began to explore, quietly though, to not alarm the night watchmen inside of the Jesus building.
But there we were standing at the base of a half-finished Jesus and what did we find… Jesus’s face!!! And guess what? Jesus was plastic, we were laughing about this when all the sudden the wind changed and we heard barking. The strong headwinds had disguised our scent and voices from the dogs, but when the wind changed they were on to us, and they meant business!
So we booked it down the hill, and over that fence as quickly as our little legs could carry us; note to self, flip-flops and skirts are not the best ninja outfits. But no worries, after Pete accidentally slammed me into the barbed-wire fence in a desperate attempt to jump it, we were home free and spent the next few minutes running through bushes and away from the flashlights following us.
It’s good to know that Central Americans take protecting their savior, only serious enough to chase us off the property but not beyond it.
Anyway, that was all the adventure San Juan del Sur was going to offer us because the next morning we headed to the nearby beach of Maderas; where I am now writing this from our own little Paradise on the hill with wireless internet. Oh modern technology!
We basically accidentally stumbled on the nicest hostel in Nicaragua, with a gorgeous ocean view, amazingly comfortable mattresses, a great friendly staff, a balcony just perfect for yoga, and the best food I have had in Central America thus far. Not too forget the usual hammocks and such. There are also a family of monkeys living in the tree near the bathroom. Nice, nice, very nice so many things in the same device!
Volcano Boarding
Due to the overall stupidity of the event, Volcano Boarding deserves its own entry. It is quite possibly the one of the most dangerous gringo tourist traps that exists in Central America, and most definately the worst use of my money so far this trip. It was obviously invented by Gringos because who else would think up charging tourists roughly 25 dollars to hike up a volcano in blazing heat, and then send them down on a wooden plank at speeds up to 80 km per mile over volcanic rock with no way of stopping besides digging your feet into the rock as hard as you can and hoping not to fall. Are Gringo tourists such ignoramouses and thrill seekers that they would pay good money to most definitely fall and scrape themselves up (I would say casualties run about 50 percent); the obvious answer is yes. The hostel that runs the volcano boarding trips is always full, and fills trips to the volcano every other day. People are literally jumping all over themselves and cutting in line to sign up for these trips. They are screaming, “Please take my money, shove me in an uncomfortably crowded pickup, drive me an hour down a dusty and dirty road, make me hike up a volcano in midday sun sweating bullets, then give me an orange ‘protective’ jumpsuit and a wooden plank, and shove me down steep volcanic rock, and laugh at me when I fall.” But at least we had jumpsuits. I am being really serious on this one, there are other companies that run the same trip except they don’t give protective jumpsuits or safety goggles, and they endorse standing. Now there are more than a few things wrong with this picture:
A. The other companies charge the same exact price; who in their right mind has two options at the same price, one with protective gear and one without, and chooses the one without? I actually met such a halfwit at our hostel the day before we went on our trip. We met her as she was about to leave, wearing only short shorts and a tank top. Pete and I immediately forced her to borrow a pair of Pete’s pants, which she thanked us profusely for later because, surprise, surprise she fell off the board, ate shit and scraped her arm up pretty badly, and would have cut up her legs if it had not been for Pete’s pants. Also, let me elaborate on the nature of Volcano Boarding. You basically sit on a wooden plank with a rope handle, put your feet in the middle of the board, hold onto the handle for dear life, get a shove down the hill and hope you do not crash. If you do feel like you are going to crash or are going to fast you can tap you feet on the lavarocks until you slow down or fall, the slower you want to go, the more you dig your feet in. If you feel you are going too far into any direction to one direction, say left, you lift up your opposite leg, right leg, and you will straighten out. Finally, if you want to go fast you put both legs up in the air. That’s it. Those are all the rules of volcano boarding, it’s not rocket science. But as I said before it is pretty dangerous, about half the people fall, and as you try to fall rocks fly up and hit you in the face and scrape your legs up if you don’t have protective gear. Also, the orange jumpsuits just look much cooler and perfect for Zoolander photo shoots.
B. The other ridiculous thing about the other companies is that they actually endorse people standing up on the boards as if they are snowboard. Lava is not snow folks. It has neither the consistency, nor the same friction levels. I f you try to stand up you WILL fall. About a year ago the Burton Snowboard Team came up to Cerra Negro and tried to Volcano Board and every single one of them fell. They tried different techniques, actual snowboards, the wooden boards; nothing worked. So I am quite shocked when stupid tourists, such as the one in the picture below, try to stand up on the board. If you cannot see the details of the photo the girl is also wearing a jean miniskirt, leggings, a short sleeve, shirt, and has no goggles or sunglasses. She fell shortly after I took this picture. Honestly some people are just ripe for Darwin Awards.
That said it was a hell of a time and I would recommend it to friends, I guess it’s the novelty of it all. The hike up to the top of the volcano, Cerra Negro, was extremely beautiful, I learned a bit about the local geology and history of the ”black hill” (Cerro Negro means black hill in Spanish. It appeared 158 years ago after techtonic activity in what used to be corn fields), got to laugh at my own stupidity and that of my friends, and randomly ran into a guy from a GreenPeace conference I attended two years ago in Washington D.C! Small world huh? Who would have thought I would run into some I knew in the States volcano boarding? And to top it off he was heading up to Utila the next day, so he acted as a courier and brought letters to our friends back at Cross Creek and Utila. So all’s well that ends well…
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