Whoops.
I am pretty embarassed to say that I was only in Chile for 5 days... a country that I have dreamed of visiting, and visiting well, for a long time now.
I guess the dream will have to wait til the next trip (soon, I assure you as much as I assure myself)
...and the embarassment? Screw it, I'm in Bolivia! A country I never dreamed of visiting. Embarassment is not an option when you're too busy loving life.
Bolivia is beautiful. I just spent 3 days on a salt flat tour of Uyuni. Stayed in a hostel made of salt, ran and gymnastic'd (I like making up words) around the 12,000 kilometers of salt and felt like a kid again (which, of course, I will never cease to be) .
This was the most touristy thing I've done yet, and I loved it. Loved it.The truth is, I am a tourist. And it's okay. Wonderful.
Life is good.
sábado, 14 de noviembre de 2009
viernes, 6 de noviembre de 2009
Ciao Ciao Argentina...
I know, I know, I am saying ¨goodbye¨ to Argentina and I have barely even said ¨hello¨ through the eyes of you blog-readers.
Apologies.
The reality is that I have simply been far too happy in this country to spend precious time writing blog entries in an internet cafe with a bad internet connection...no, no, that´s just plain depressing.
Instead, I have been out, experiencing the cities/towns of Buenos Aires, (a little break in the middle there to honor my Grandmother...I love you Gram), Iguazú (the falls were unbelievable, even on a disgusting rainy day), Salta (including two days as a ¨gaucha¨ riding horses), Cafayate, Salta again and now I´ve been in the perfect little town of Humahuaca where I am struggling to accept that I must leave in two hours. But the jouney must go on...
The whole while, I must point out (and especially because she doesn´t have the address to my blog and therefore won´t embarrass her ;-) that I have been traveling with a now I imagine friend-for-life named Katya from Canada. We met in Buenos Aires, got along and decided to cotintinue traveling together. We spent a month enjoying cities, towns, wineries, wine, music, art, museums, clothing, learning, laughing, traveling, and many other crazy stories (inquire within) until our time to part came three days ago, as she has planned to go down to Patagonia and work on an organic farm through WOOF. I would have never expected to have made a friend like her, and so I will say publically ¨thank you, Katya¨.
For now, I am off to yet another small town in Northern Andean Argentina where I plan to continue to learn about small-town life, Incas, Quechua and art....etc. etc.
etc.
(this trip has been better than imagine, by the way, if you were wondering...I have learned, wow, so much)
Then I cross into Chile.
But I love you, Argentina, you have been so very special to me, and I will return one day. That´s a promise.
Apologies.
The reality is that I have simply been far too happy in this country to spend precious time writing blog entries in an internet cafe with a bad internet connection...no, no, that´s just plain depressing.
Instead, I have been out, experiencing the cities/towns of Buenos Aires, (a little break in the middle there to honor my Grandmother...I love you Gram), Iguazú (the falls were unbelievable, even on a disgusting rainy day), Salta (including two days as a ¨gaucha¨ riding horses), Cafayate, Salta again and now I´ve been in the perfect little town of Humahuaca where I am struggling to accept that I must leave in two hours. But the jouney must go on...
The whole while, I must point out (and especially because she doesn´t have the address to my blog and therefore won´t embarrass her ;-) that I have been traveling with a now I imagine friend-for-life named Katya from Canada. We met in Buenos Aires, got along and decided to cotintinue traveling together. We spent a month enjoying cities, towns, wineries, wine, music, art, museums, clothing, learning, laughing, traveling, and many other crazy stories (inquire within) until our time to part came three days ago, as she has planned to go down to Patagonia and work on an organic farm through WOOF. I would have never expected to have made a friend like her, and so I will say publically ¨thank you, Katya¨.
For now, I am off to yet another small town in Northern Andean Argentina where I plan to continue to learn about small-town life, Incas, Quechua and art....etc. etc.
etc.
(this trip has been better than imagine, by the way, if you were wondering...I have learned, wow, so much)
Then I cross into Chile.
But I love you, Argentina, you have been so very special to me, and I will return one day. That´s a promise.
viernes, 2 de octubre de 2009
Buenos Aires = Grandma.
Buenos Aires is...everything I expected, and that is because I chose not to expect anything...
I didn´t listen when people told me what they thought about the country or its people and here I am being treated like an old friend, learning how to speak a totally different style of Spanish (¨Castellano¨ it is refered to here, because, let´s be honest, that´s what it is) and meeting people from all over the world, WHILE dancing tango.
Just beautiful.
And nuts:
To sum it up I have learned that life (or God or the Universe, whatever you believe in) truly supports you and gives you just what you need when you need it and don´t know where to get it from:
The smallest thing from meeting an 80 year-old man - Ruben - in the botanical garden who sang me Tango and Bolero simply because his philosophy in life is centered upon meeting people and finding out how his music makes them feel...to being invited this afternoon to eat the most delicious empanadas for lunch as I opened up and found solace in the kind and understanding employees here at my hostel when I found out my Grandma had passed away.
Two different forms of lending a ¨helping hand¨in which people find the best ways possible to bridge cultural differences and life issues, but equally beautiful.
I am ever grateful to these people for allowing me to feel I am loved and supported, even as far away from my loved ones as I am.
And Erick - you deserve a major shout-out as well: Thank You. You support me in more ways that I can explain.
I love you, Grandma. I love you, family.
And I love you, Buenos Aires. Thank you for being more than I could have expected.
I didn´t listen when people told me what they thought about the country or its people and here I am being treated like an old friend, learning how to speak a totally different style of Spanish (¨Castellano¨ it is refered to here, because, let´s be honest, that´s what it is) and meeting people from all over the world, WHILE dancing tango.
Just beautiful.
And nuts:
To sum it up I have learned that life (or God or the Universe, whatever you believe in) truly supports you and gives you just what you need when you need it and don´t know where to get it from:
The smallest thing from meeting an 80 year-old man - Ruben - in the botanical garden who sang me Tango and Bolero simply because his philosophy in life is centered upon meeting people and finding out how his music makes them feel...to being invited this afternoon to eat the most delicious empanadas for lunch as I opened up and found solace in the kind and understanding employees here at my hostel when I found out my Grandma had passed away.
Two different forms of lending a ¨helping hand¨in which people find the best ways possible to bridge cultural differences and life issues, but equally beautiful.
I am ever grateful to these people for allowing me to feel I am loved and supported, even as far away from my loved ones as I am.
And Erick - you deserve a major shout-out as well: Thank You. You support me in more ways that I can explain.
I love you, Grandma. I love you, family.
And I love you, Buenos Aires. Thank you for being more than I could have expected.
domingo, 27 de septiembre de 2009
Out of here.
Leaving. It's bittersweet, I tell you.
And ironic. Ridiculous. I am crazy, I now know it.
A year ago I would have died to be off to Argentina in two days, would have given it all up, all the bull and bureaucracy and small-town gossip. But today it's just bittersweet...everything is so good right now. You could say I've found that peace with Costa Rica and my life here, the very peace that I have been looking to find for two years.
Though perhaps it simply means I am becoming a little bit more stable. A little more knowledgeable of what I want in life. And that feels good.
So, that said, I'm off - with open arms, an open heart, and a major desire to explore, but also with a big peace of that open heart still here in Pura Vida land.
And ironic. Ridiculous. I am crazy, I now know it.
A year ago I would have died to be off to Argentina in two days, would have given it all up, all the bull and bureaucracy and small-town gossip. But today it's just bittersweet...everything is so good right now. You could say I've found that peace with Costa Rica and my life here, the very peace that I have been looking to find for two years.
Though perhaps it simply means I am becoming a little bit more stable. A little more knowledgeable of what I want in life. And that feels good.
So, that said, I'm off - with open arms, an open heart, and a major desire to explore, but also with a big peace of that open heart still here in Pura Vida land.
sábado, 12 de septiembre de 2009
San José = Mixed Bag
Throughout service, the many times I have come into San José have always been monumental in one way or another; either I come in for some type of training that would improve my abilities as a PCV or to visit "old" friends and "family" from my training days, or to well, leave the country by means of the airport. Certainly monumental, especially since I've only left two times.
What always strikes me, however, is how the citizens of San José are so...tough, angry, unmoved in comparison to the rural areas. Arrival to San José hardly provides the aura or flavor of what my little town of Bahía does.
You can therefore imagine my embarrassment when I act as my normal self and try to "befriend" a coffeeshop worker or clerk. No one cares. No one cares that you can speak Spanish pretty darn well, nor that you have spent two years integrating into their community, nor that maybe you understand a little bit more of the culture than the next gringo. No, even if it's quite obvious, I end up just being treated like the next "gringo".
Interesting. At first - a year ago or so - it used to bug me. Really bug me, and I felt pretty self-righteous about it ("hey! I'm here 'helping' YOU", I thought, which is ridiculous because of course neither did that person know that fact nor was I actually helping him/her directly). But as I've realized through my experience with the Peace Corps and in Life (Capital "L", mind you, this is important) things are just the way they are. Trying to fight them just makes you bitter and tired.
Today, therefore, was different than all the other times. I'll set the scene: here I am, floor two of a newish coffee shop called MusCafé on Central Ave (hardly the Central Ave you are seeing in your head, sorry for painting the wrong picture - but it is quite vibrant and beautiful and busy, all the same). And of course, true to my espresso-lover nature, I am drinking a cappuccino.
This cappuccino is the key to my story.
When I asked for it, though I've been here many times, the woman behind the counter asked for the first time whether I wanted a big or small cappuccino! Caught up in the emotions of "holy s*@$ I had no idea there was a BIG one" I mechanically ordered a small, although I was realizing meanwhile that what I really wanted was a BIG cappuccino (lots of document writing and running around at Peace Corps has made me extremely mentally exhausted)...but...it was too late. By the time I'd made my brain send the words "oops, no, mejor grande" to change the order to a BIG one, the woman had the cash register already opened. Transaction processed.
"Oh well", I thought, and told her so. But her supervisor (or someone in charge, he was a very big man standing next to her counting money) didn't think it was so funny and he gave me a look that sadly, though I cannot read minds, have been subjected to before and mostly here in San José: "stupid gringa," he thought, "always want exactly what they want and abuse the system to get it." I could see it in his eyes. After 2+ years I can tell what eyes mean to say - there is a difference between being hit on because you're gringa and between being thought stupid or a prissy want-it-all because you're gringa.
I felt like the prissy want-it-all. Though of course, I am not, had not intentionally been in this situation and never want to be. So naturally I was able - within ten seconds - to convince myself I'm not of that "sort" of person and didn't feel at all bad about the situation. But I quickly realized it was not the same for him, as he continued to glare at me. I wished I could tell him the same, and I still do, even now as he steals disappointed glances up in my direction every once in a while.
No, maybe I'll go and and flirt with him on my way out. That'll change his mind.
KIDDING. That is abuse of the system. He'll just have to realize it on his own.
Consequently, although I am certain this manager-dude is not changing his mind anytime soon, this experience, along with the thousands of others I've had here, served to provide further inspiration for my exuberant and somewhat crazy life goal of bringing cultures together and providing a better understanding of people world-wide. Further fire = more motivation = Life is Good.
What always strikes me, however, is how the citizens of San José are so...tough, angry, unmoved in comparison to the rural areas. Arrival to San José hardly provides the aura or flavor of what my little town of Bahía does.
You can therefore imagine my embarrassment when I act as my normal self and try to "befriend" a coffeeshop worker or clerk. No one cares. No one cares that you can speak Spanish pretty darn well, nor that you have spent two years integrating into their community, nor that maybe you understand a little bit more of the culture than the next gringo. No, even if it's quite obvious, I end up just being treated like the next "gringo".
Interesting. At first - a year ago or so - it used to bug me. Really bug me, and I felt pretty self-righteous about it ("hey! I'm here 'helping' YOU", I thought, which is ridiculous because of course neither did that person know that fact nor was I actually helping him/her directly). But as I've realized through my experience with the Peace Corps and in Life (Capital "L", mind you, this is important) things are just the way they are. Trying to fight them just makes you bitter and tired.
Today, therefore, was different than all the other times. I'll set the scene: here I am, floor two of a newish coffee shop called MusCafé on Central Ave (hardly the Central Ave you are seeing in your head, sorry for painting the wrong picture - but it is quite vibrant and beautiful and busy, all the same). And of course, true to my espresso-lover nature, I am drinking a cappuccino.
This cappuccino is the key to my story.
When I asked for it, though I've been here many times, the woman behind the counter asked for the first time whether I wanted a big or small cappuccino! Caught up in the emotions of "holy s*@$ I had no idea there was a BIG one" I mechanically ordered a small, although I was realizing meanwhile that what I really wanted was a BIG cappuccino (lots of document writing and running around at Peace Corps has made me extremely mentally exhausted)...but...it was too late. By the time I'd made my brain send the words "oops, no, mejor grande" to change the order to a BIG one, the woman had the cash register already opened. Transaction processed.
"Oh well", I thought, and told her so. But her supervisor (or someone in charge, he was a very big man standing next to her counting money) didn't think it was so funny and he gave me a look that sadly, though I cannot read minds, have been subjected to before and mostly here in San José: "stupid gringa," he thought, "always want exactly what they want and abuse the system to get it." I could see it in his eyes. After 2+ years I can tell what eyes mean to say - there is a difference between being hit on because you're gringa and between being thought stupid or a prissy want-it-all because you're gringa.
I felt like the prissy want-it-all. Though of course, I am not, had not intentionally been in this situation and never want to be. So naturally I was able - within ten seconds - to convince myself I'm not of that "sort" of person and didn't feel at all bad about the situation. But I quickly realized it was not the same for him, as he continued to glare at me. I wished I could tell him the same, and I still do, even now as he steals disappointed glances up in my direction every once in a while.
No, maybe I'll go and and flirt with him on my way out. That'll change his mind.
KIDDING. That is abuse of the system. He'll just have to realize it on his own.
Consequently, although I am certain this manager-dude is not changing his mind anytime soon, this experience, along with the thousands of others I've had here, served to provide further inspiration for my exuberant and somewhat crazy life goal of bringing cultures together and providing a better understanding of people world-wide. Further fire = more motivation = Life is Good.
viernes, 11 de septiembre de 2009
I'm done. Oh my....
I've just finished Peace Corps! Officially, date-wise, no...but here in the San José office, yes.
I finished all the paperwork and signing up for insurance and writing documents about my service and saying my goodbyes to the wonderful Peace Corps staff that have supported me for two plus years, etc. etc. etc.
And wouldn't you know that I've just received the best line/piece of advice I've yet to receive in two years that perfectly summed up my Peace Corps experience and brought a mixture of tears and hysterical laughing to my already elated emotions? :
"You should have been a CYF volunteer" yelled to me from Dan Baker, the program manager for our CYF (Children, Youth and Families) program who's work (by nature, and not by bending the rules as I have done in my CED - Community Economic Development - program) with children.
I knew it the very first day of Peace Corps, when Delia (the wonderful, eccentric, red-haired cultural director of PC who I fell in love with at first sight) took one look at me (with red hair and nose ring and eccentric outgoing bubbly personality) and said:
"You are a CYF volunteer, not a CED volunteer...you should change programs right now so you can work with kids."
Obviously I could not change programs and have therefore I always took that statement as a kind of joke until today.
However, after finishing my service and removing myself a bit, I now realize that yes, of course working with children is much more up my alley than working with local businesses and accounting. That yes, maybe I was in the "wrong" program, but I also realize that I have done the best with what I was given. Luckily, Peace Corps was flexible and wonderful enough to let me work with kids and do what I thought best for my community. And luckily I was also mature enough to figure out what works best for me. Life comes full circle.
Now that is making the best out of what you've got.
I finished all the paperwork and signing up for insurance and writing documents about my service and saying my goodbyes to the wonderful Peace Corps staff that have supported me for two plus years, etc. etc. etc.
And wouldn't you know that I've just received the best line/piece of advice I've yet to receive in two years that perfectly summed up my Peace Corps experience and brought a mixture of tears and hysterical laughing to my already elated emotions? :
"You should have been a CYF volunteer" yelled to me from Dan Baker, the program manager for our CYF (Children, Youth and Families) program who's work (by nature, and not by bending the rules as I have done in my CED - Community Economic Development - program) with children.
I knew it the very first day of Peace Corps, when Delia (the wonderful, eccentric, red-haired cultural director of PC who I fell in love with at first sight) took one look at me (with red hair and nose ring and eccentric outgoing bubbly personality) and said:
"You are a CYF volunteer, not a CED volunteer...you should change programs right now so you can work with kids."
Obviously I could not change programs and have therefore I always took that statement as a kind of joke until today.
However, after finishing my service and removing myself a bit, I now realize that yes, of course working with children is much more up my alley than working with local businesses and accounting. That yes, maybe I was in the "wrong" program, but I also realize that I have done the best with what I was given. Luckily, Peace Corps was flexible and wonderful enough to let me work with kids and do what I thought best for my community. And luckily I was also mature enough to figure out what works best for me. Life comes full circle.
Now that is making the best out of what you've got.
miércoles, 9 de septiembre de 2009
Floating.
5 days left. Counting, yes.
Perhaps it's those five long - or short, however you'd like to view it - days, or the fact that I never thought two years would go by so fast - or slow, however you'd like to see it - or the mixed fear and excitement about the pending adventure coming my way, or the thought of not having close the people here I love and home I've made, or (sadly) even the mental effects of the books I am reading lately (I'm on the second of the Twilight series, and embarassingly obsessed and feel like I am leading Bella's life to a certain extent)...
...but for whatever reason, it's as if I can see my life from the outside these days. I am the observer, the curious audience member watching down on the play from way up in the stands. I don't feel as if it's all so personal as it was before; the emotions from the hard parts of the Peace Corps now feel numb, now in the distant past; it's now someone else who experienced them...
But what I can see? The woman I am today, what I have, what I have learned and where I want to go from here. Step by step.
And that's good enough. Pura Vida.
Perhaps it's those five long - or short, however you'd like to view it - days, or the fact that I never thought two years would go by so fast - or slow, however you'd like to see it - or the mixed fear and excitement about the pending adventure coming my way, or the thought of not having close the people here I love and home I've made, or (sadly) even the mental effects of the books I am reading lately (I'm on the second of the Twilight series, and embarassingly obsessed and feel like I am leading Bella's life to a certain extent)...
...but for whatever reason, it's as if I can see my life from the outside these days. I am the observer, the curious audience member watching down on the play from way up in the stands. I don't feel as if it's all so personal as it was before; the emotions from the hard parts of the Peace Corps now feel numb, now in the distant past; it's now someone else who experienced them...
But what I can see? The woman I am today, what I have, what I have learned and where I want to go from here. Step by step.
And that's good enough. Pura Vida.
jueves, 3 de septiembre de 2009
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