One of the few things I bought in Chiapas before leaving was a natural fiber journal, knowing that eventually my traveling one would run out of paper. As I write in it now, I feel as though it represents a new section, a new phase of my life. I wonder if the tequila bottle that broke in my bag, making 3 months of ink vanish from the pages and into the Houston airport was encouraging me to move forward. So here I sit, neither moving forward nor back, just stationary, for the moment. But only for the moment. Only one day to rest and then I throw myself back into the rush of American life. Feeling loved and appreciated, but mostly just overwhelmed.
And so I jump right back into the double shifts, being paid to smile, into dancing from one social adventure to the next, without even enough time to simply decorate with Mom, empty my bag, or breathe. I want to scream and cry and sing and don't feel like I even have time for that. A new me in the old circle. I can't begin to express myself or the differences between the cultures, the surroundings. Overwhelmed, overstimulated, overworked. But then I stop. As I did so many times while traveling. I take some deep breaths, refocus, recenter, smile, and appreciate the beauty of the people, the places, everything. It is all beautiful. Different, intense, and beautiful.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Day 93: Bittersweetness
The runway is wet from the rain and it fits. I will not miss Cancun or the duty free store that sucked me to my last peso. But I will miss so much more. Even when it rains here it is still beautiful. But I can see Mike's words in my head, "enjoy your time and know you have much to look forward to when you return." And I do.
So I fly home alone, the 4 of us go our separate ways with no idea of what is to come, only the feeling that were ready. Even now, as the plane rolls along the runway, green surrounds. I have difficulty imagining the bare branches, the snow, the blue sky turned grey. And yet I am excited. Sometimes I don't know why, but I'll realize it soon enough.
A strange mixture of independence and loneliness. When it started I never imagined the ending and now that it's over I can't imagine what's next. One day at a time. Today I'll fly home. See 4 beautiful people. Organize my pics. Unpack my bag. Drink bourbon.
So I fly home alone, the 4 of us go our separate ways with no idea of what is to come, only the feeling that were ready. Even now, as the plane rolls along the runway, green surrounds. I have difficulty imagining the bare branches, the snow, the blue sky turned grey. And yet I am excited. Sometimes I don't know why, but I'll realize it soon enough.
A strange mixture of independence and loneliness. When it started I never imagined the ending and now that it's over I can't imagine what's next. One day at a time. Today I'll fly home. See 4 beautiful people. Organize my pics. Unpack my bag. Drink bourbon.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Day 92: Riviera Maya
My last full day in Mexico and I feel so far removed from Mexican culture I wonder if the last 91 days were a dream. The only sign of familiarity comes from talking with the maid, which forces me to speak in Spanish. Puerto Aventuras, a private condo community located on the Riviera Maya between Playa del Carmen and Tulum, is my last home away from home. The sand is white and thick like putty or dried frosting, the water turquoise, and the private property signs along the beach are royal blue and obviously being ignored by yours truly. Perhaps one may call this paradise, personally I find it disgusting. Where are the vendors selling nuts, hammocks, and jewelry? Where are the specialized street shops (panaderia, zapateria, papeleria)? Where is the market? And why, for the love of god, are the prices for everything in U.S. dollars? But really, it is beautiful. I would simply prefer a view of mountains to condos. The one thing that does feel familiar and comforting is the question, "how the hell am I getting to the airport tomorrow?" I was told to, "Walk to the highway, get on a bus, then at some point get off the bus (on the highway) and wait for another bus..." ok!
A mix of emotions and I wonder what I'll miss the most. The ocean, my friends, the stress free life of traveling (does that even make sense?), the market, the sun. I don't know what is next for me. I gave up thinking about that a long time ago. I do know that there is an amazing family waiting for me. There is also a job that feels like family. I know that I am ready for something, but the vast array of endless possibilities frightens me just a little, and excites me a lot. But I don't know if I'm ready to handle America. Life here feels slower, it feels right. What an amazing experience. I feel in a sense that by leaving I am taking my travels and throwing them away. I have learned so much and I need to carry these lessons everywhere I go. I feel proud of myself for really leaving. Taking a voyage without a plan. Being flexible to pick up and go to a new destination or stay as long as desired. And so I cry now and know not why. Maybe it's the knowledge that I'll be stuck inside, hiding from the cold grey winter, or not knowing when I'll see my girls. Maybe it is the fear of the unknown-but I love the unknown.
A mix of emotions and I wonder what I'll miss the most. The ocean, my friends, the stress free life of traveling (does that even make sense?), the market, the sun. I don't know what is next for me. I gave up thinking about that a long time ago. I do know that there is an amazing family waiting for me. There is also a job that feels like family. I know that I am ready for something, but the vast array of endless possibilities frightens me just a little, and excites me a lot. But I don't know if I'm ready to handle America. Life here feels slower, it feels right. What an amazing experience. I feel in a sense that by leaving I am taking my travels and throwing them away. I have learned so much and I need to carry these lessons everywhere I go. I feel proud of myself for really leaving. Taking a voyage without a plan. Being flexible to pick up and go to a new destination or stay as long as desired. And so I cry now and know not why. Maybe it's the knowledge that I'll be stuck inside, hiding from the cold grey winter, or not knowing when I'll see my girls. Maybe it is the fear of the unknown-but I love the unknown.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Day 88: On heading home
Recently we have traveled to Antigua and Xela (pronounced Shayla), Guatemala. I have loved both. Only in Xela 24 hours and I hear Andrea's slightly under the weather voice in my ear, "I want to live here." Me too. A very large city that feels more like a German X-mas village. It may or may not have anything to do with the fact that it is December.
It is December. Today a 30 minute walk with Jo into the countryside made me think of what I'll miss and what I look forward to. We do a lot of that lately. "Imagine actually being able to talk on the phone." Or "I'll miss wanting tortillas, walking a block and having them warm and fresh inmy hand." That and the many bakeries. I could go on and on. Guatemala is different from Mexico, but in many aspects it is very similar. I will miss much from both.
Today it hit me. Hard. Like a brick wall or maybe a basketball in the face. It's almost over. We were preparing dinner, Andrea and I, and I started to really freak out. So I ran out the door, for fresh air and to search for Tostadas and Johanna, both very important.
I find a strange sense of comfort in not knowing what tomorrow or even today will bring. In finding routine through bakeries, market trips, and exploring new cities. Waking up and traveling or waking up and arriving in a new unknown place is a beautiful way of life. Andrea reminds me that going home is not ending the trip, for every day is part of the exploration, the voyage of life. That I can keep traveling, this is simply another stop along the way. Perhaps it is this response that keeps me from tearing up and helps me to refocus on dinner. I both fear and look forward to what is next, the unknown. Or maybe it is the constant question I will hear after my journey. But this is my journey and it will continue to be my journey.
I really just want to cry and make everything make sense. Live the way I live, knowing tomorrow will be beautiful, because it will. I want to jump past the culture shock of American life. Never in my dreams did I imagine this experience would be as beautiful as it has been, I am very lucky. For I have so much to look forward to: bourbon by the fireplace, snow in the streets, and hugs. So many hugs.
It is December. Today a 30 minute walk with Jo into the countryside made me think of what I'll miss and what I look forward to. We do a lot of that lately. "Imagine actually being able to talk on the phone." Or "I'll miss wanting tortillas, walking a block and having them warm and fresh inmy hand." That and the many bakeries. I could go on and on. Guatemala is different from Mexico, but in many aspects it is very similar. I will miss much from both.
Today it hit me. Hard. Like a brick wall or maybe a basketball in the face. It's almost over. We were preparing dinner, Andrea and I, and I started to really freak out. So I ran out the door, for fresh air and to search for Tostadas and Johanna, both very important.
I find a strange sense of comfort in not knowing what tomorrow or even today will bring. In finding routine through bakeries, market trips, and exploring new cities. Waking up and traveling or waking up and arriving in a new unknown place is a beautiful way of life. Andrea reminds me that going home is not ending the trip, for every day is part of the exploration, the voyage of life. That I can keep traveling, this is simply another stop along the way. Perhaps it is this response that keeps me from tearing up and helps me to refocus on dinner. I both fear and look forward to what is next, the unknown. Or maybe it is the constant question I will hear after my journey. But this is my journey and it will continue to be my journey.
I really just want to cry and make everything make sense. Live the way I live, knowing tomorrow will be beautiful, because it will. I want to jump past the culture shock of American life. Never in my dreams did I imagine this experience would be as beautiful as it has been, I am very lucky. For I have so much to look forward to: bourbon by the fireplace, snow in the streets, and hugs. So many hugs.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Day 85: Rio Dulce
It was time to leave the Caribbean coast, so we decided to leave on the popular "Rio Dulce": take the river boat through the winding jungle, pass through the nature reserve, stop at the delicious hot springs, soak in the sun. Well, not so much. 20 minutes into it and we had our chest to our knees, covered in plastic as the rain and wind attacked at all sides. So much for that Caribbean boat ride.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Day 84: 7 Altares
Broke with desires. We'd heard beautiful things about the jungle tour: walk through the jungle to the 7 altares, jump off the water fall into the fresh water pools, pay money you don't have. So we decided to take the voyage on ourselves. 3 hours, sea shells in pockets, and sun absorbed later we entered the jungle and walked barefoot along the slippery delicious stones. The water: refreshing, clear, and encouraging. We walked until we could jump. Looking at my friends, slightly afraid of heights, I wondered who would be the first to jump off the falls into the pool below. "I'll take your picture," Andrea said, as I peered over the edge. My response: "OK!," as I went flying into the perfect pool of clarity. I layed there floating, peering up at the trees opening up to the sky and everything just felt right. I'm a fish, what more can I say.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Day 83: Museo de Livingston
A Museum with a history of the cultures of Livingston is located near the dock. Although the pictures, musical artifacts and history runs deep, the translations of the history left me hysterically confused. Most paragraphs contained the phrase "You/he/she/it" several times, without a necessity for a single one. It made less than sense. My "You/he/she/it" interest for the different African and Latino cultures, however, grew as I understood words with out a storyline.
It was the perfect rainy day activity.
It was the perfect rainy day activity.
Day 83:Guatemala
10 days left and I feel a strange inability to write. A mixture of proximity to leaving, and lacking the energy Mexico radiates. For the first time in 3 months I feel like a tourist, checking out the sites, paying for a bed, talking only to other travelers. I love to learn new places but now understand why Mexico holds such a special place in peoples hearts. However, Guatemala holds unique beauty of its own.
Covered in jungle, rain forest, delicious green beauty, whether on foot, boat, van, or bus, I find myself always peering with a strange glow in my eye. I yearn to trek through the intense green that covers every mountain we weave through and when I find myself actually surrounded I wonder if it's really make believe.
We've spent over 3 days in Livingston, located on the Guatemalan border with the Caribbean sea, between Honduras and Belize. A village with a mixture of 4 different cultures, tourism on the main strip, and beautiful community through the remaining space.
Covered in jungle, rain forest, delicious green beauty, whether on foot, boat, van, or bus, I find myself always peering with a strange glow in my eye. I yearn to trek through the intense green that covers every mountain we weave through and when I find myself actually surrounded I wonder if it's really make believe.
We've spent over 3 days in Livingston, located on the Guatemalan border with the Caribbean sea, between Honduras and Belize. A village with a mixture of 4 different cultures, tourism on the main strip, and beautiful community through the remaining space.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Day 80: The Ruins of Tikal
Amazing. The largest of the ancient ruined cities of the Mayan civilization. To simply try and imagine a people building something so amazing, living in a time so different is absolutely astounding. Walking through the jungle from one structure to another gave me a sense of peace, a sense of curiosity. And then suddenly we'd come upon a clearing, another structure, and people would abound, once again a tourist, surrounded by other tourists. But it was fun. Eventually we came to a section called the "Gran Plaza,"structures upon structures upon...as Andrea called it, "a playground." We ran up and down stairs, in and out of temples, trying to get to the highest point, around corners and suddenly again you were in the jungle watching monkeys in the trees. As Jo and I ascended our last structure for the day, a dark cloud turned into a dark sky, sprinkles turned into a storm and the tree we met Andrea under didn't keep us dry enough to try. So we went running through the buckets pouring on our head, avoiding puddles as best we could, running in a direction we hoped led to the exit. It did. And as soon as we got there the rain ceased, obviously.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Day 78: Clouds across borders
Chiapas has clouds like I've never seen before and everytime I think back to my time in Chiapas, I will see the clouds.
We drive through the winding hills as the clouds mingle with the mountain tops. Perfectly thick. I peer out the window and down into the valley (or is it a river) as the fog settles inbetween the mountainous structures and living shrubbery. A perfect earthly balance. The sun has just set and I wonder why I have spent so much time in the cities, knowing what lies outside the concrete parks, the women selling cloth, the children selling cigarettes. It is so deliciously beautiful. By the time we get a flat tire the clouds have covered the sky, light from the sun is obsolete. We spend the night in a room with 2 beds and a concrete floor on the border. In the morning we head into Guatemala and as we drive through the villages upon a dirt road for 4 hours, I am once again amazed by the clouds. However, this time something else takes my breath: the overgrowth of diversity. And it's everywhere. No order, no control. Just plush green beauty.
Times like this I wish i had the skills of a true writer, to express my feelings, my view into words, to take the breathlessness, the overwhelming joy, the glow from my soul, my eyes, and reproduce it on paper. But clouds like these, and diversity through growth, and crowded guatemalan buses are meant to be experienced.
We drive through the winding hills as the clouds mingle with the mountain tops. Perfectly thick. I peer out the window and down into the valley (or is it a river) as the fog settles inbetween the mountainous structures and living shrubbery. A perfect earthly balance. The sun has just set and I wonder why I have spent so much time in the cities, knowing what lies outside the concrete parks, the women selling cloth, the children selling cigarettes. It is so deliciously beautiful. By the time we get a flat tire the clouds have covered the sky, light from the sun is obsolete. We spend the night in a room with 2 beds and a concrete floor on the border. In the morning we head into Guatemala and as we drive through the villages upon a dirt road for 4 hours, I am once again amazed by the clouds. However, this time something else takes my breath: the overgrowth of diversity. And it's everywhere. No order, no control. Just plush green beauty.
Times like this I wish i had the skills of a true writer, to express my feelings, my view into words, to take the breathlessness, the overwhelming joy, the glow from my soul, my eyes, and reproduce it on paper. But clouds like these, and diversity through growth, and crowded guatemalan buses are meant to be experienced.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Day 74-5: Turkey day
The clouds engulf the mountains beneath the nearly full moon, thick fluffy, dark, beautiful, as we walk quickly to La Cruz (the cross), known as the meeting spot in the city, familiar, but this time slightly different surroundings as we are walking from our newest couch surfing house, to be our fifth home in one week. Each place has had its own special perk, this one has many: very close to the zocalo, yet you can nearly reach the forest (with your hand, literally), a real backyard, we're talking grass here folks-like the real stuff, and a picnic table-I know, it's almost too much to handle, and a beautiful view of the city from the bedroom window. Walking past the quiet shops I realize I do not miss black friday back home (day after thanksgiving, blitz day, buy nothing day, an anti materialists hell).
Turkey Day
We woke up early enough to pack our stuff, take it to the peace house and get to the garden outside of the city by 9am. Roberto had stopped by the previous night to let us know it was time to move on out of the hotel. We of course spent our last night in our kingdom cooking tacos con papas, taking hot showers, and enjoying comfort. We spent 5 hours at the garden, pulling weeds, planting onions, seperating rediculous amounts of worms from soil, and talking with the 2 guys who work there. http://findingbirdsinforests.blogspot.com/2007/11/gracias-la-vida.html The garden is small and connected to a vegetarian organic restaurant in the city. Volunteers at the garden receive a free ticket to the lunch buffet, and so we had our (first) T-day feast. The second came in the form of a dinner party. The food, again vegetarian, was as far from a thanksgiving dinner as the house was from Mexican culture.
Although it was spent with near strangers, familiar feelings surounded me: being overly full and yet taking one more helping of my favorite dish (and then another), sipping wine over simple talk, taking turns getting stuck in conversations while trying to leave and an hour later you've said goodbye to the same person at least 3 times. And I am reminded of how traditions bring me home, keep me comfortable. But this year, unlike last, I do not pine for family or love or board games. I know I will be with it soon enough. I know I have TG dinners for the rest of my life, and I find comfort in the fancy condo rented by 3 Seattle writers, filled with travelers, with the only connection to TG being the heat from the oven and the sign on the door that says "Genocide - Poverty - Hunger - NO THANKS NO GIVING! What are you celebrating? Give thanks everyday"....an anti imperialist thanksgiving dinner.
Turkey Day
We woke up early enough to pack our stuff, take it to the peace house and get to the garden outside of the city by 9am. Roberto had stopped by the previous night to let us know it was time to move on out of the hotel. We of course spent our last night in our kingdom cooking tacos con papas, taking hot showers, and enjoying comfort. We spent 5 hours at the garden, pulling weeds, planting onions, seperating rediculous amounts of worms from soil, and talking with the 2 guys who work there. http://findingbirdsinforests.blogspot.com/2007/11/gracias-la-vida.html The garden is small and connected to a vegetarian organic restaurant in the city. Volunteers at the garden receive a free ticket to the lunch buffet, and so we had our (first) T-day feast. The second came in the form of a dinner party. The food, again vegetarian, was as far from a thanksgiving dinner as the house was from Mexican culture.
Although it was spent with near strangers, familiar feelings surounded me: being overly full and yet taking one more helping of my favorite dish (and then another), sipping wine over simple talk, taking turns getting stuck in conversations while trying to leave and an hour later you've said goodbye to the same person at least 3 times. And I am reminded of how traditions bring me home, keep me comfortable. But this year, unlike last, I do not pine for family or love or board games. I know I will be with it soon enough. I know I have TG dinners for the rest of my life, and I find comfort in the fancy condo rented by 3 Seattle writers, filled with travelers, with the only connection to TG being the heat from the oven and the sign on the door that says "Genocide - Poverty - Hunger - NO THANKS NO GIVING! What are you celebrating? Give thanks everyday"....an anti imperialist thanksgiving dinner.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Day 72: Lucky ladies
An awkward and unwelcome interaction at the Peace House sent us to the next couchsurfer on our list, Roberto. He works at a hotel 4 blocks from the Zocalo and lives with the ideal that space should be filled, no one should be without a bed when there is one available. And there just happens to be one available...at his hotel. Karma is working on our behalf and we must have done something really right. More like an apartment, the hotel room has 2 floors, kitchen, living room with fireplace, upstairs bedroom with the cleanest bathroom in Mexico, with hot water 24hrs a day! Re-dic-u-lous. And free. We are here until the person who lives here returns (he may or may not know we are staying here).
Chiapas is known for its natural beauty, one of the reasons I was drawn here. Today we took another day trip, this time to El Rancho Nuevo. 15 minutes outside of the city, covered with enough pine trees to encourage deep breathing and makes me scream "MICHIGAN!" as we enter. While there we ate pinapple on a log, wandered through a cave while dancing to keep warm, and sat on a hill surrounded by pines. Just lovely.
Chiapas is known for its natural beauty, one of the reasons I was drawn here. Today we took another day trip, this time to El Rancho Nuevo. 15 minutes outside of the city, covered with enough pine trees to encourage deep breathing and makes me scream "MICHIGAN!" as we enter. While there we ate pinapple on a log, wandered through a cave while dancing to keep warm, and sat on a hill surrounded by pines. Just lovely.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Moving forward and staying present
We rarely plan for tomorrow, and then spend hours searching and applying for jobs. We have long talks with strangers about having free spirits, traveling forever, living different lives in a different generation (than our folks), and then speak with lovers and parents about futures. It's about ideals and reality, love in so many different forms, across borders, through physical, mental, and spiritual. It's about beauty, of people, culture, country, soul. It's about waking up and listening to the sun, the wind, but most importantly yourself.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Day 70: San Cristobal de las Casas
These days I travel only with Andrea, and occasionally with friends we meet along the way. There exists an understanding between us that comes from time and common interests. Sometimes that interest is simply to relax and wander, occasionally it involves taking care of each other through health, language, and relaxation, but it always involves going wherever the wind may take us. Our history simply aids us in communicating efficiently and reading each others minds when necessary.
Since arriving on Friday in San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, we have been staying at a place called the Peace House, basically a place for international volunteers. However, since we arrived it has only been us, and Zachary and Evan, two Indiana boys we met back in D.F. The space is nice as it gives us opportunity for relaxation and comfort. The only annoyance is a kitten who never seems to stop meowing and likes to poop everywhere.
Yesterday (Saturday), the evening was spent enjoying a dinner party with fellow travelers, filling up on guacamole while cooking spaghetti and beets, and sipping wine over conversations with old, fairly new, and very new friends. From Seattle, Frisco, Chi town, Germany, Mexico, and Michigan, we found commonalities in a dimly lit room with a fireplace in the corner, a table perfect for 8, and warmth from the stove.
Today (Sunday), I temporarily filled my craving for nature. 4km from the Zocalo is the Huitepec Ecological Reserve, filled with evergreen oaks that twist at the base and climb up to an elevation of 2700m into a cloud forest. After taking a combi (refurbished cheap van) to the entrance of the reserve, we made the climb, stopping occasionally at questions on wood stands, like, "these trees are different than the ones before, do you notice the difference?". The elevation made it occasionally difficult to breath and left me feeling light headed and glowing. The strange colorful cupped leaves covered the trails, reminding me of Michigan fall. I imagined myself, once again, walking through Kalamazoo trails, breathing deeply, taking it all in. And I realized that although I long for home, I know it is not yet time.
I have learned much, about the culture, about myself, about what is next for me. But there is a level of peace, of balance, of patience, of love that I feel is lacking. Although I know I can find this on my return, I feel that I need to challenge myself to reach further, to become these things in the presence of traveling, in the absence of familiarity and comfort. I find myself slipping from focus. With a plane ticket in hand I think too much of what is to come, but it is the here and now, the present in which I live, in which focus must reside.
Since arriving on Friday in San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, we have been staying at a place called the Peace House, basically a place for international volunteers. However, since we arrived it has only been us, and Zachary and Evan, two Indiana boys we met back in D.F. The space is nice as it gives us opportunity for relaxation and comfort. The only annoyance is a kitten who never seems to stop meowing and likes to poop everywhere.
Yesterday (Saturday), the evening was spent enjoying a dinner party with fellow travelers, filling up on guacamole while cooking spaghetti and beets, and sipping wine over conversations with old, fairly new, and very new friends. From Seattle, Frisco, Chi town, Germany, Mexico, and Michigan, we found commonalities in a dimly lit room with a fireplace in the corner, a table perfect for 8, and warmth from the stove.
Today (Sunday), I temporarily filled my craving for nature. 4km from the Zocalo is the Huitepec Ecological Reserve, filled with evergreen oaks that twist at the base and climb up to an elevation of 2700m into a cloud forest. After taking a combi (refurbished cheap van) to the entrance of the reserve, we made the climb, stopping occasionally at questions on wood stands, like, "these trees are different than the ones before, do you notice the difference?". The elevation made it occasionally difficult to breath and left me feeling light headed and glowing. The strange colorful cupped leaves covered the trails, reminding me of Michigan fall. I imagined myself, once again, walking through Kalamazoo trails, breathing deeply, taking it all in. And I realized that although I long for home, I know it is not yet time.
I have learned much, about the culture, about myself, about what is next for me. But there is a level of peace, of balance, of patience, of love that I feel is lacking. Although I know I can find this on my return, I feel that I need to challenge myself to reach further, to become these things in the presence of traveling, in the absence of familiarity and comfort. I find myself slipping from focus. With a plane ticket in hand I think too much of what is to come, but it is the here and now, the present in which I live, in which focus must reside.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Day 65 & 66: Monday night at Nueva Babel
We decide to stay in Oaxaca through Monday so we can see this guitar player. Andrea assures me he is so full of life and happiness I will not regret the experience. We have a habit of saying we're leaving "tomorrow" and three days later we are still saying, "we are leaving tomorrow." And so now, three days later...we are leaving for San Cristobal tomorrow, to arrive on friday morning.
But the guitar player...Leo, his eyes shine with so much vibrance you think you are looking into the beauty of the sun, he laughs...all the time and his whole body laughs with him and it makes the whole room fill with happiness. "Every sound that isn't Leo's laugh is an empty sound," my traveling companion blurts out one night at dinner. So I obviously don't regret the experience or the rest of the night.
We stay up until 8am dancing and laughing: Leo, Andrea, Leo's friends, and Misty (a beautiful woman from Seattle who has a soul so full of energy and excitement I glow just to be in her presence). It's too late or early to return to our couchsurfing house (a 60yr old women who works 2 jobs and has a nephew we never see, who never opens the door for us. The fence to the house is too high to climb and jump, we've tried). So Andrea and I sleep on a friend of Leos' couch, I guess that's what couch surfing is all about.
We spend the morning curled up under numerous blankets, talking over tea and toast with Paco's mom, or maybe his aunt. We spend the afternoon at a sushi place. Leo plays guitar there sometimes, so we get the sushi free of charge. I sit soaking up the sun, eating sushi, and drinking beer, while Paco plays the flute, Leo laughs, and Andrea and I bask in our happiness.
But the guitar player...Leo, his eyes shine with so much vibrance you think you are looking into the beauty of the sun, he laughs...all the time and his whole body laughs with him and it makes the whole room fill with happiness. "Every sound that isn't Leo's laugh is an empty sound," my traveling companion blurts out one night at dinner. So I obviously don't regret the experience or the rest of the night.
We stay up until 8am dancing and laughing: Leo, Andrea, Leo's friends, and Misty (a beautiful woman from Seattle who has a soul so full of energy and excitement I glow just to be in her presence). It's too late or early to return to our couchsurfing house (a 60yr old women who works 2 jobs and has a nephew we never see, who never opens the door for us. The fence to the house is too high to climb and jump, we've tried). So Andrea and I sleep on a friend of Leos' couch, I guess that's what couch surfing is all about.
We spend the morning curled up under numerous blankets, talking over tea and toast with Paco's mom, or maybe his aunt. We spend the afternoon at a sushi place. Leo plays guitar there sometimes, so we get the sushi free of charge. I sit soaking up the sun, eating sushi, and drinking beer, while Paco plays the flute, Leo laughs, and Andrea and I bask in our happiness.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Day 63: Back in Oaxaca City
Travelers find travelers. It is a beautiful part of traveling. I spent one week at the beach, five days which were spent alone, met 6 washingtonites, 3 swedish gals, and 1 virginia gent. Shared stories, philosophies, and cookies. Although I miss the ocean I can still feel myself diving into her waves, being pulled to and fro by here energy, and taste her salty waters. I do not , however, miss the nightly bug bites in the hammock. I cherish my moments spent there, the friends made, the choppy spanish used. But as quickly as my feet moved through the hot sand to be cooled by her waters, something inside of me new it was time to move on.
After bidding the ocean adieu, I stepped off an 8 1/2 hour bus ride once again. But this time I did not step into suffocating heat, quite the opposite really. I knew I had been asleep for awhile, but was it possible that I was back in Michigan? The language answered the question, and I immediately wondered what the hell was I thinking to leave La Playa and the warmth behind. I immediately ripped my bag open and put on all the (slightly sandy) layers I could muster, stepped into a cab (for warmth) and headed to the zocalo (city center).
It was 7am, as I waited an hour and a half for my Andrea to find me, I shared the one sunny bench I could find with 2 old mexican men, them with their breakfast tacos, me with my headpones and bouncing knees.
The day was hazy, or maybe we were hazy, wondering the streets, visiting the same delicious organic market for 2 meals and arriving at casa chapulin for a presentation, an amazing meal, and news that made all the bug bitten hammock nights and bus sleeping grogginess worthwhile. While I was in Playa San Augustinillo having an inkling to return to my amigas, they had made friends with a band. To make a long story short, we had a free hotel room for the night: 2 beds, a pool, and mexican buffet breakfast included...very fancy. Shortly after arriving at the hotel we made friends with 2 musicians and 1 crazy spaniard, musical entertainment lasted late into the night. And just to top it off, the next day the sun shone warm on us as we laid with our very full bellys next to the pool.
After bidding the ocean adieu, I stepped off an 8 1/2 hour bus ride once again. But this time I did not step into suffocating heat, quite the opposite really. I knew I had been asleep for awhile, but was it possible that I was back in Michigan? The language answered the question, and I immediately wondered what the hell was I thinking to leave La Playa and the warmth behind. I immediately ripped my bag open and put on all the (slightly sandy) layers I could muster, stepped into a cab (for warmth) and headed to the zocalo (city center).
It was 7am, as I waited an hour and a half for my Andrea to find me, I shared the one sunny bench I could find with 2 old mexican men, them with their breakfast tacos, me with my headpones and bouncing knees.
The day was hazy, or maybe we were hazy, wondering the streets, visiting the same delicious organic market for 2 meals and arriving at casa chapulin for a presentation, an amazing meal, and news that made all the bug bitten hammock nights and bus sleeping grogginess worthwhile. While I was in Playa San Augustinillo having an inkling to return to my amigas, they had made friends with a band. To make a long story short, we had a free hotel room for the night: 2 beds, a pool, and mexican buffet breakfast included...very fancy. Shortly after arriving at the hotel we made friends with 2 musicians and 1 crazy spaniard, musical entertainment lasted late into the night. And just to top it off, the next day the sun shone warm on us as we laid with our very full bellys next to the pool.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Day 60 & 61: Reflections at the Ocean
So many emotions and feelings I don't know how to write, where to start. I feel alone in this world, yet know that is so far from the truth. And it is not the solitary position I find mysef , but perhaps the lack of communication from the outside. I try to think of what is next for me and endless possibilities frighten me. I consider finding some kind of office job, ideally a receptionist position for some kind of holisitc professional, and I worry that I will get sucked in to the process we are taught in school, from our parents, from society: school, job, career, reproduce (there might be a few others). I wonder if I'm ready and I think about all the ideas I had when I was younger, being a river guide, working at camps. So I go online to get an idea of what's out there, and I realize I'm exactly where I was a year ago (hopefully with more maturity), looking for work away from home, while knowing it is home I pine for. That when I return I will be reminded of everything I love and missed and will once again get sucked in. And yet I am torn because I see myself ending up in the midwest and realize now is the time for my adventures. I meet people with lifestyles that excite me and wonder what there presence or passing through in my life represents. Maybe it is just a reminder of the endless possibilities.
**********************************
We are taught what is beautiful. As I look around me I see paradise, beauty. But I know that it is interaction, people that make life beautiful. I look out and see palm trees, the ocean, rocks, sunshine, mountains, it is amazing, and for only 30 pesos, I get this, a hammock, solitude. Yet I will return to grey, cold, beautiful Michigan. A different kind of beauty, one that I have trouble puting into words, but feel so deeply inside.
**********************************
An insight through medititation reminded me of how insignificant I am, we all are. How it doesn't matter, it is okay for me to simply be right now. The ocean is huge and I am but one wave, affected by the energy of my environment, of the people I interact with and in my movement, in my energy I affect those in my path. That is all.
**********************************
We are taught what is beautiful. As I look around me I see paradise, beauty. But I know that it is interaction, people that make life beautiful. I look out and see palm trees, the ocean, rocks, sunshine, mountains, it is amazing, and for only 30 pesos, I get this, a hammock, solitude. Yet I will return to grey, cold, beautiful Michigan. A different kind of beauty, one that I have trouble puting into words, but feel so deeply inside.
**********************************
An insight through medititation reminded me of how insignificant I am, we all are. How it doesn't matter, it is okay for me to simply be right now. The ocean is huge and I am but one wave, affected by the energy of my environment, of the people I interact with and in my movement, in my energy I affect those in my path. That is all.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Day 56: Mazunte Beach
An 8 1/2 bus ride from Oaxaca to Pochutla and I barely manage to wake up enough to stumble off the bus. It is 7:30 in the morning. We gather our belongings and continue on foot to find a camioneta (refurbished pick up truck) to finish our journey to the Mazunte beach.
The beach here is beautiful, with restaurant/bars 50ft from the shore and rocks big enough to keep you from voyaging too far down the beach. The waves are vicious and make me think twice before entering, but they are so captivating that I can not keep from staring, and when the heat hits me I jump out of my sandals, throw off my sarong and go running into her beautiful waves. It is very calm here, the village hardly even a village, just one street with a few convenience type stores and restaurants.
The restaurant/bars near the shore all act as hostels as well, offering hammocks, tents or rooms. The room we are currently staying in is a loft, with a palmetto roof and mosquito netting covering the bed. However, soon I will find myself a lovely hammock over looking the ocean.
I find it difficult even now, after 2 months of traveling to relax. To know that it is okay to simply be. However, I know it is here, where this fish can swim, that I will find my balance.
The beach here is beautiful, with restaurant/bars 50ft from the shore and rocks big enough to keep you from voyaging too far down the beach. The waves are vicious and make me think twice before entering, but they are so captivating that I can not keep from staring, and when the heat hits me I jump out of my sandals, throw off my sarong and go running into her beautiful waves. It is very calm here, the village hardly even a village, just one street with a few convenience type stores and restaurants.
The restaurant/bars near the shore all act as hostels as well, offering hammocks, tents or rooms. The room we are currently staying in is a loft, with a palmetto roof and mosquito netting covering the bed. However, soon I will find myself a lovely hammock over looking the ocean.
I find it difficult even now, after 2 months of traveling to relax. To know that it is okay to simply be. However, I know it is here, where this fish can swim, that I will find my balance.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Day 52: Halloween on the farm
Location: Atlixco, Puebla
After the cab dropped us off on the side of the highway, we patiently waited for our ride. The four of us (Andrea, Johanna, Aliisa, & I) stood there, chilled, and excited, with unknown expectations. We were headed to the farm Amolia had worked at over the summer to drink honey wine, I knew nothing more. We stood there waiting for Kumara, Amolia had described her as a woman with glowing rays of light shooting out of her, holding a baby, and driving jeep. She was right. Kumara was beautiful, with buzzed silver-blonde hair, singing to her child, to the world, with an aura so magnificent and calm. She radiated balance.
We arrived at the farm around 8:30 and layed under the stars as we waited for the others. The night was young as the chill sent us under our covers. We slept in a hexagon shaped building with 12 beds coming out from the walls like rays of sunshine. In the middle, an array of candles and flowers.
The next morning we arose to watch the sun rise reflect on the volcano. It was my first real view of the farm and of the countryside that surrounded us. The smoke crawled slowly out of the volcano as if to match the pace of my brain. I went back into the hexagon to find warmth and await the sound that meant time for a new day to begin.
The morning comenced with simple yoga stretches and movements, reminding me the importance of breath, of finding balance and renewing my connection to the earth. We also found a connection to the music and to each other with a couple simple dances that reminded me of folk dancing at camp, making a complete circle and linking me to my roots.
The farm was small and felt more like a yoga retreat. It was surrounded with natural beauty. Projects included working on the dirt/sand foundation for a sweat lodge, pulling weeds while singing songs, and shaking lettuce seeds out of their plant. Meals and cleaning were of course done through cooperation.
Before dinner we felt halloween in our blood, so we did the best we could with what we had available. I, of course, was a Princess. I made a crown from pretty weeds, my sarong, and a flower for decoration. There was also a traveler, french artist, and a medley of women with mustaches, and men in skirts among us.
After dinner we headed to the village, on the way we hitched a ride on the back of a horse pulled wagon. We used internet in the nearby village of Atlixco and wandered back to the farm. The night continued with singling and playing song in the hexagon, Andru Bemis sing alongs, sharing stories, and drinking tequila and wine. Amolia's wine gave me a warmth that reminded me of cold Michigan nights.
The whole experience, merely 2 nights and 1 day, was absolutely wonderful, unfortunately I spent so much time on projects, I did not take enough time to really take it all in. But it definately gave me a reminder of my need for nature, and a realization of the concrete in which I have thus far been surrounded. I can only imagine the balance and kindness that would arise if we were surrounded by nature for all our days. A dream or a possibility...
The next morning three of the eight of us left for Oaxaca with soar bodies from the manual labor. The rest stayed to take in more of the beauty. Why didn't I stay? It's simple really: I must find the ocean before my money runs out.
After the cab dropped us off on the side of the highway, we patiently waited for our ride. The four of us (Andrea, Johanna, Aliisa, & I) stood there, chilled, and excited, with unknown expectations. We were headed to the farm Amolia had worked at over the summer to drink honey wine, I knew nothing more. We stood there waiting for Kumara, Amolia had described her as a woman with glowing rays of light shooting out of her, holding a baby, and driving jeep. She was right. Kumara was beautiful, with buzzed silver-blonde hair, singing to her child, to the world, with an aura so magnificent and calm. She radiated balance.
We arrived at the farm around 8:30 and layed under the stars as we waited for the others. The night was young as the chill sent us under our covers. We slept in a hexagon shaped building with 12 beds coming out from the walls like rays of sunshine. In the middle, an array of candles and flowers.
The next morning we arose to watch the sun rise reflect on the volcano. It was my first real view of the farm and of the countryside that surrounded us. The smoke crawled slowly out of the volcano as if to match the pace of my brain. I went back into the hexagon to find warmth and await the sound that meant time for a new day to begin.
The morning comenced with simple yoga stretches and movements, reminding me the importance of breath, of finding balance and renewing my connection to the earth. We also found a connection to the music and to each other with a couple simple dances that reminded me of folk dancing at camp, making a complete circle and linking me to my roots.
The farm was small and felt more like a yoga retreat. It was surrounded with natural beauty. Projects included working on the dirt/sand foundation for a sweat lodge, pulling weeds while singing songs, and shaking lettuce seeds out of their plant. Meals and cleaning were of course done through cooperation.
Before dinner we felt halloween in our blood, so we did the best we could with what we had available. I, of course, was a Princess. I made a crown from pretty weeds, my sarong, and a flower for decoration. There was also a traveler, french artist, and a medley of women with mustaches, and men in skirts among us.
After dinner we headed to the village, on the way we hitched a ride on the back of a horse pulled wagon. We used internet in the nearby village of Atlixco and wandered back to the farm. The night continued with singling and playing song in the hexagon, Andru Bemis sing alongs, sharing stories, and drinking tequila and wine. Amolia's wine gave me a warmth that reminded me of cold Michigan nights.
The whole experience, merely 2 nights and 1 day, was absolutely wonderful, unfortunately I spent so much time on projects, I did not take enough time to really take it all in. But it definately gave me a reminder of my need for nature, and a realization of the concrete in which I have thus far been surrounded. I can only imagine the balance and kindness that would arise if we were surrounded by nature for all our days. A dream or a possibility...
The next morning three of the eight of us left for Oaxaca with soar bodies from the manual labor. The rest stayed to take in more of the beauty. Why didn't I stay? It's simple really: I must find the ocean before my money runs out.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Day 48: Saturday in Mexico City
Tall buildings surround us as we search for the Centro Social Libertario, where Amolia and Andrea will be giving a Beehive Collective Presentation. As we walk down Londres Street the numbers on the buildings descend, which would be a good sign, if we weren't in Mexico. Two hours later after walking all the way to one end, turning around walking all the way to the other end, hitting an internet cafe, and walking down an alley, we arrive. Lucky for us Mexican time is in action and the event started 2 hours late, and 2 minutes before we walked in the door.
We spend the first part of the night traveling through Mexico City with 10 individuals, 6 from Kalamazoo, as we have now added Aliisa and Justin to our clan, and 4 others we either knew or met at the presentation. Fried plantains (YUM!), a concert in the Zocalo (city center) where dancing kept us warm but gave me feelings of regret the following morning as I woke up with an inability to walk...remember the fall down the stairs (day 40)? Yep. Still in pain...
Following the brisk concert, we head back to the other side of town for a party with a stop for some delicious street tacos on the way (holy spicy deliciousness). The party is chill, productive, fun and makes me aware of how conservative Guanajuato and Queretaro are, and how good it feels to be surrounded by liberal minds, anarchists, and people who actually question the world in which we live.
After the party we all seperate to go to our separate sleeping situations. As J and I return to our hostel, I am suddenly reminded that it is Saturday night, and at B & B mexico, this means free tequila night. We walk into the front lobby and are instantly poured tequila shots. After 3 shots in 2 minutes we join the hostel partiers to a halloween party down the street. Few costumes, bobbing for apples, and drunk strangers fill the rest of our night.
We spend the first part of the night traveling through Mexico City with 10 individuals, 6 from Kalamazoo, as we have now added Aliisa and Justin to our clan, and 4 others we either knew or met at the presentation. Fried plantains (YUM!), a concert in the Zocalo (city center) where dancing kept us warm but gave me feelings of regret the following morning as I woke up with an inability to walk...remember the fall down the stairs (day 40)? Yep. Still in pain...
Following the brisk concert, we head back to the other side of town for a party with a stop for some delicious street tacos on the way (holy spicy deliciousness). The party is chill, productive, fun and makes me aware of how conservative Guanajuato and Queretaro are, and how good it feels to be surrounded by liberal minds, anarchists, and people who actually question the world in which we live.
After the party we all seperate to go to our separate sleeping situations. As J and I return to our hostel, I am suddenly reminded that it is Saturday night, and at B & B mexico, this means free tequila night. We walk into the front lobby and are instantly poured tequila shots. After 3 shots in 2 minutes we join the hostel partiers to a halloween party down the street. Few costumes, bobbing for apples, and drunk strangers fill the rest of our night.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Day 45: Santa Rosa
I awake to the sound of wind shaking the windows so hard I feel they may burst. I look out the window and realize this is the first time I've had a window in a long while. The view from the floor mattress is perfect: a single tree blowing in the wind with a perfect blue sky backdrop. As I stand to peer out the window, my body shakes from the cold, but the view is worth it: cabanas, green hills, and in the valley, the puebla of Santa Rosa, located 2800 meters in elevation and 15 km from Guanajuato.
For the last 45 days (with one exception) I have been surrounded by concrete, the parks in these cities rarely have grass, when they do it is not permitted to be near them. I have been craving nature for a long while. Whenever I feel unbalanced, overwhelmed, lonely, etc, I have an urgency for nature...
So, when opportunity to go to the hills arrived, I didn't think twice. What started as an evening of pasta, vino, and talking near the fire in the countryside tuned into skipping a day of school (such a rebel) to soak in the sunshine, take deep breaths in the brisk wind, and appreciate the beauty that surrounded me. I feel centered and whole again. Being alone and traveling is a rewarding experience, but I am reminded once again of the importance of nature, balance, interaction, and good home cooking.
For the last 45 days (with one exception) I have been surrounded by concrete, the parks in these cities rarely have grass, when they do it is not permitted to be near them. I have been craving nature for a long while. Whenever I feel unbalanced, overwhelmed, lonely, etc, I have an urgency for nature...
So, when opportunity to go to the hills arrived, I didn't think twice. What started as an evening of pasta, vino, and talking near the fire in the countryside tuned into skipping a day of school (such a rebel) to soak in the sunshine, take deep breaths in the brisk wind, and appreciate the beauty that surrounded me. I feel centered and whole again. Being alone and traveling is a rewarding experience, but I am reminded once again of the importance of nature, balance, interaction, and good home cooking.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Day 43: The beauty of independence
After a ridiculous weekend of chaos I am back at school, have made friends within my hostel, am starting to feel comfortable communicating in spanish, and value this feeling of independence so much that I worry it will end too soon. I will leave this city I have come to love, travel once again with beautiful friends, learn new things, people, places, and lose a part of my independence.
Two of my amigos will arrive into D.F. on friday. From Mexico City we have plans to travel south: Puebla, Oaxaca City, and Mazunte, Oaxaca. Although I look forward to their visit and our adventures together, I crave self exploration and am just beginning to get that deeper understanding of myself, of inner love and peace. But the best part is simply knowing that the possibilities of my future are endless. It is enough to stretch a smile from ear to ear.
Two of my amigos will arrive into D.F. on friday. From Mexico City we have plans to travel south: Puebla, Oaxaca City, and Mazunte, Oaxaca. Although I look forward to their visit and our adventures together, I crave self exploration and am just beginning to get that deeper understanding of myself, of inner love and peace. But the best part is simply knowing that the possibilities of my future are endless. It is enough to stretch a smile from ear to ear.
Day 40: Tumbling towards fluency
I'm having a lot of strange feelings, a lot of new feelings.
Now feeling so far removed from my hometown, country, everything, I finally feel good in another city. This is new, to feel comfortable, yet continuously challenged, by a language, by men, by isolation. I cherish the people at bar fly for taking me in, showing me kindness.
Today, the city is booming with people from the festival, streets filled with pedestrians as far as the eye can see, music, clowns, street performers of all shapes and sizes and I blend in with my pack. But unlike the many tourists that come only for the final Cerventino Festival weekend, I have been here for nearly a month and I want them to leave.
I spend the afternoon taking a ciesta in my new hostel, Casa Mexicana, I awake to find the clock on the kitchen wall says the same time as it did when I fell asleep. I am late for my coffee/ice cream/spanish conversation date with Julio. I run up the stairs to bar fly (conveniently located next door to my hostel), look out the window and spot him across the street. As I go to run back down the stairs my head hits the low ceiling located at the curve in the stairs, my feet slip, my knee twists, and down I go in writhing pain.
Coffee date turns into 2 shots of tequila for me, a run to the pharmacy for Julio and the only conversation being "me duele la pierna." Dancing plans? Cancelled. I found myself a seat at the bar (around 7pm), and stayed there until 2am when the bar closed early because of a tear gas situation.
Now feeling so far removed from my hometown, country, everything, I finally feel good in another city. This is new, to feel comfortable, yet continuously challenged, by a language, by men, by isolation. I cherish the people at bar fly for taking me in, showing me kindness.
Today, the city is booming with people from the festival, streets filled with pedestrians as far as the eye can see, music, clowns, street performers of all shapes and sizes and I blend in with my pack. But unlike the many tourists that come only for the final Cerventino Festival weekend, I have been here for nearly a month and I want them to leave.
I spend the afternoon taking a ciesta in my new hostel, Casa Mexicana, I awake to find the clock on the kitchen wall says the same time as it did when I fell asleep. I am late for my coffee/ice cream/spanish conversation date with Julio. I run up the stairs to bar fly (conveniently located next door to my hostel), look out the window and spot him across the street. As I go to run back down the stairs my head hits the low ceiling located at the curve in the stairs, my feet slip, my knee twists, and down I go in writhing pain.
Coffee date turns into 2 shots of tequila for me, a run to the pharmacy for Julio and the only conversation being "me duele la pierna." Dancing plans? Cancelled. I found myself a seat at the bar (around 7pm), and stayed there until 2am when the bar closed early because of a tear gas situation.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Day 38: Farewell my friend
Death comes and questions everything I believe. Takes my glow and covers it with a rock. Reminds me of my life: what its been, what its seen, and everything its taken for granted. Tears are shed for a being so beautiful and strong with goals and visions farther than the mind can see.
And what was learned from him? It started with communication. Learning to speak with someone who kept so many thoughts and explosions inside, and learning to not speak and communicate with eyes and smiles, and then build a relationship, a trust. And look forward to the daily explosions on politics, apathetic students, moving forward, implementing changes.
And then it moved to learning how to turn passion into action, into voice and change. Taking every moment to make a difference, every opportunity to challenge thoughts, every experience a lesson learned. Using every bit of energy, he devoted himself to a justifiable cause, wrote papers 10 times as long as assigned, and still found time to socialize with friends, laugh, love, and share in the frustration of human kind.
And then I learned the importance of health. The importance of time. In fact, I learned it so well I saved my own health in the process by slowing down. He taught me the importance of peace, of love, of experiencing life and appreciating everything. And he taught me the horrors our actions can have on each other, how we are all connected to the environment.
But most of all, I felt the power of love, strength, and pushing forward. And that will stay with me forever. What a beautiful soul.
And what was learned from him? It started with communication. Learning to speak with someone who kept so many thoughts and explosions inside, and learning to not speak and communicate with eyes and smiles, and then build a relationship, a trust. And look forward to the daily explosions on politics, apathetic students, moving forward, implementing changes.
And then it moved to learning how to turn passion into action, into voice and change. Taking every moment to make a difference, every opportunity to challenge thoughts, every experience a lesson learned. Using every bit of energy, he devoted himself to a justifiable cause, wrote papers 10 times as long as assigned, and still found time to socialize with friends, laugh, love, and share in the frustration of human kind.
And then I learned the importance of health. The importance of time. In fact, I learned it so well I saved my own health in the process by slowing down. He taught me the importance of peace, of love, of experiencing life and appreciating everything. And he taught me the horrors our actions can have on each other, how we are all connected to the environment.
But most of all, I felt the power of love, strength, and pushing forward. And that will stay with me forever. What a beautiful soul.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Day 37: Recovery, recuperation, rebirth
I am high. Floating over Guanajuato with a twinkle in my eye and a glowing smile. I feel reborn. After a horrible stomach infection that gave me chills, fever, hallucination, fainting spells, and all the nasty things I don't need to mention, I feel me again. Saturday I didn't think I'd walk again, I felt my soul being drained of all things natural and beautiful. It's amazing how a fresh start can make you mentally, physically, and spiritually renewed.
I am just so happy. Everyone I meet and interact with is beautiful in their own right. Living at the Bar for a week introduced me to an amazing community within this beautiful city. People with energy, and souls that shine. Yes, the exhaustion and hangovers were at times overwhelming, but the floor of cigarette butts and bar smell kind of grows on you. Within one block we had everything we needed: food, family, shelter, Internet, beer, sunshine, and hugs. ¿What more is necessary? ¿Really really necessary? Nothing.
So now I am back in school. My mind is working again. I'm finally learning past tense so I can stop saying sentences like, "Yesterday, I go to Queretaro and am sick." hahaha. Everyone in my classes seems much more fluent than me, but most of the time I am just distracted by my hot teacher. I am staying in a hostel by myself and it feels good to be independent, especially with a bed. I am planning on being here until Friday, but i may stay forever.
However, I hear the seasons are changing back home, the leaves to yellow, burnt orange, red, brown, gone. And it saddens me deep in my soul to know I will miss this organic change yet again. Memories of car rides out to camp with wide eyes and deep breaths rush through me and I yearn for a harvest dinner, to walk through the woods and kick leaves, to hug my mom.
I am just so happy. Everyone I meet and interact with is beautiful in their own right. Living at the Bar for a week introduced me to an amazing community within this beautiful city. People with energy, and souls that shine. Yes, the exhaustion and hangovers were at times overwhelming, but the floor of cigarette butts and bar smell kind of grows on you. Within one block we had everything we needed: food, family, shelter, Internet, beer, sunshine, and hugs. ¿What more is necessary? ¿Really really necessary? Nothing.
So now I am back in school. My mind is working again. I'm finally learning past tense so I can stop saying sentences like, "Yesterday, I go to Queretaro and am sick." hahaha. Everyone in my classes seems much more fluent than me, but most of the time I am just distracted by my hot teacher. I am staying in a hostel by myself and it feels good to be independent, especially with a bed. I am planning on being here until Friday, but i may stay forever.
However, I hear the seasons are changing back home, the leaves to yellow, burnt orange, red, brown, gone. And it saddens me deep in my soul to know I will miss this organic change yet again. Memories of car rides out to camp with wide eyes and deep breaths rush through me and I yearn for a harvest dinner, to walk through the woods and kick leaves, to hug my mom.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Day 29: A bed at last
We spent the last 2 night sleeping at the bar. Now as we sit in Yarows tiny room with a bed it really hits me how much I've missed the comfort of having a bed, a room, a place to relax whenever my heart desires. This culture does not pride itself on alone time, privacy, or any of those things I have come accustomed to. I am getting used to it. But living in a bar the last couple of days has been rough. However, knowing that there are people like Yarows, people that are so generous and fun and unique and selfless, has been beautiful.
Days like yesterday, where my stomach is churning inside of me, makes me miss the ability to lay in bed and sip tea, to be surrounded by cleanliness, to take deep breaths and not smell smoke and stale beer. But more than that, it makes me realize how lucky I am to have such wonderful friends who are now my family, and reminds me of how generous and caring the people in this beautiful country are. It also remind me to take better care of myself.
Days like yesterday, where my stomach is churning inside of me, makes me miss the ability to lay in bed and sip tea, to be surrounded by cleanliness, to take deep breaths and not smell smoke and stale beer. But more than that, it makes me realize how lucky I am to have such wonderful friends who are now my family, and reminds me of how generous and caring the people in this beautiful country are. It also remind me to take better care of myself.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Day 27: Home is where the bar is
A night of partying was followed by a morning of being homeless. It's the first Saturday of the cervantino festival. Accommodations? None.
We sat on the sidewalk in the plaza with our bags, trying to give the sad forlorn, "we're homeless and pathetic" look to passing by tourists.
At 7pm we decided to head to our bar, "bar fly," thinking maybe if we show up with all our shit people will talk to us, they will realize we are stranded and homeless and offer us a place to stay. If that were to fail, we would take the ride offer back to Queretaro and stay once again with Paulo or one of the many couchsurfers there. After being at the bar for approximately 30 minutes, we had our offer: the bartender said we could stay at the bar.
After the previous night of partying (2 hours of drunken sleep), I was ready to pass out right that very second...however, its' Saturday night, cerventino festival, and we're at the cool alternative younger crowd bar.
So...
the bar closes at 4, by 5 we have literally closed the bar down. I crawl onto a comfy mattress, by night used for bar goers, by morning used for employees and random Kalamazooian travelers, and finally fall to sleep.
Yes, I slept at the bar. Yes, it smelled like the day after a party. And yes, they treated us like the princesses we obviously are.
We sat on the sidewalk in the plaza with our bags, trying to give the sad forlorn, "we're homeless and pathetic" look to passing by tourists.
At 7pm we decided to head to our bar, "bar fly," thinking maybe if we show up with all our shit people will talk to us, they will realize we are stranded and homeless and offer us a place to stay. If that were to fail, we would take the ride offer back to Queretaro and stay once again with Paulo or one of the many couchsurfers there. After being at the bar for approximately 30 minutes, we had our offer: the bartender said we could stay at the bar.
After the previous night of partying (2 hours of drunken sleep), I was ready to pass out right that very second...however, its' Saturday night, cerventino festival, and we're at the cool alternative younger crowd bar.
So...
the bar closes at 4, by 5 we have literally closed the bar down. I crawl onto a comfy mattress, by night used for bar goers, by morning used for employees and random Kalamazooian travelers, and finally fall to sleep.
Yes, I slept at the bar. Yes, it smelled like the day after a party. And yes, they treated us like the princesses we obviously are.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Day 26: Radiant shift
A trip for groceries only made it to the liquor store for a pint of tequila. We then arrived at a majestic, beautiful, artistic, gallery of live art. A mixed performance of acting, dancing, and moving from one room to the next in this multi-floored gallery filled me with radiant energy. It was beautiful.
Three hours later I found myself sitting in a bar and wanting nothing more than to dance, to move to the music, transfer my energy through my feet, out my arms and into the energy of my surroundings. By 1am we had finally made it to the dance club, with warm belly's and happy feet. Somehow 1 o'clock turned into 4 o'clock and we were still dancing. After delicious street food (tacos w/ papas, huevos, o frijoles), and trying to back a large van down a steep, curvy driveway while laughing hysterically, we found our beds.
Three hours later I found myself sitting in a bar and wanting nothing more than to dance, to move to the music, transfer my energy through my feet, out my arms and into the energy of my surroundings. By 1am we had finally made it to the dance club, with warm belly's and happy feet. Somehow 1 o'clock turned into 4 o'clock and we were still dancing. After delicious street food (tacos w/ papas, huevos, o frijoles), and trying to back a large van down a steep, curvy driveway while laughing hysterically, we found our beds.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Day 24: Delirious Princess
Every time I open my journal to write (also used as my Spanish notebook) I see all the Spanish, all the new knowledge, and all the words and structure I have yet to understand. No time to write. Just time to learn, learn, learn. I love to learn, and I can feel myself improving, slowly but surely.
After four hours of class, I find myself wandering through the street, around the same familiar loop. Looking for familiarity: in people, in food, in anything. My dislike for eating alone and my uneasiness for the language often leaves me hungry, weak, and slightly delirious. I find Internet. I try to study, but with no energy comes no brain. I wander the streets again. Find friends, food, and the learning once again continues.
We are currently staying in Marfil, about 20 minutes by bus outside of el Centro de Guanajuato. We sleep on the living room floor of a Ukrainian fashion designer named Aloana. It suits us well. Dinner is usually found through tamale vendors (27 cents/tamale), produce markets, and lunches big enough to keep us filled until manana.
After four hours of class, I find myself wandering through the street, around the same familiar loop. Looking for familiarity: in people, in food, in anything. My dislike for eating alone and my uneasiness for the language often leaves me hungry, weak, and slightly delirious. I find Internet. I try to study, but with no energy comes no brain. I wander the streets again. Find friends, food, and the learning once again continues.
We are currently staying in Marfil, about 20 minutes by bus outside of el Centro de Guanajuato. We sleep on the living room floor of a Ukrainian fashion designer named Aloana. It suits us well. Dinner is usually found through tamale vendors (27 cents/tamale), produce markets, and lunches big enough to keep us filled until manana.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Dia 23: Motivated Itch
My torso is currently covered in little red bumps that itch, hurt, and make life very uncomfortable. However...
I am having a fantastic time! Yesterday I enrolled in classes and am now a student at Escuela Mexicana. I have four classes (2 grammar, 1 conversation, 1 vocab). The teachers there are all young college students that have a lot of patience for stupid Americans. I have two individuals in my classes that drive me and everyone else up the fucking wall, incidentally, they are both from California, and no, they do not know each other. Traveling in Mexico for three weeks has given me culture shock to Americans. argghhh. I will be studying at least until Friday, and most likely for another week. I've realized that the more I study the shorter my trip becomes ($$$), but it just feels so good to use my brain, to be challenged, and to be able to communicate with people. I believe it has been hibernating for about a year, but it is very excited to be out and about again, especially with the beautiful perfect weather.
Regarding my painful, itchy, torso...I went to see a real doctor yesterday. He put me on a stronger medication and prescribed for me a gel that made my body feel like it was actually burning. So umm...no more gel. But I think I might be getting better...only time will tell.
I am having a fantastic time! Yesterday I enrolled in classes and am now a student at Escuela Mexicana. I have four classes (2 grammar, 1 conversation, 1 vocab). The teachers there are all young college students that have a lot of patience for stupid Americans. I have two individuals in my classes that drive me and everyone else up the fucking wall, incidentally, they are both from California, and no, they do not know each other. Traveling in Mexico for three weeks has given me culture shock to Americans. argghhh. I will be studying at least until Friday, and most likely for another week. I've realized that the more I study the shorter my trip becomes ($$$), but it just feels so good to use my brain, to be challenged, and to be able to communicate with people. I believe it has been hibernating for about a year, but it is very excited to be out and about again, especially with the beautiful perfect weather.
Regarding my painful, itchy, torso...I went to see a real doctor yesterday. He put me on a stronger medication and prescribed for me a gel that made my body feel like it was actually burning. So umm...no more gel. But I think I might be getting better...only time will tell.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Day 21: La Musica
Guanajuato helps me to take deep breaths. The city is booming with people, colors, and change. Although it is all very exciting, I prefer to seek relaxation. The breeze encourages me to lie down and stare at the sky. That, mixed with the antihistamines I'm on which make me drowsy and slightly delirious. Most people who know me, know that in addition to being a princess I am also delicate as a flower. So when the ink from the tattoo made me breakout in hives I was not so much surprised as I was itchy.
While my mind flutters through the clouds, the sound of Amolias violin keeps me grounded. I miss my piano. I miss making music and singing at the top of my lungs. I fear the confidence in my voice that developed shortly before I left will slowly disappear and I may lose my ability all together. I know none of this is true, but there is something creeping beneath my hives, beneath my skin, that wants to explode. It's through my whole body. My feet want to dance, my arms want to squeeze someone, and my head wants to explode.
We arrived here, in Guanajuato, today around 2pm. Tomorrow, I plan on finding a school and starting to study the language. We will be staying in this area for the next month until our amigos arrive. Where exactly? With who? Dunno. I suppose I'll find out soon enough.
While my mind flutters through the clouds, the sound of Amolias violin keeps me grounded. I miss my piano. I miss making music and singing at the top of my lungs. I fear the confidence in my voice that developed shortly before I left will slowly disappear and I may lose my ability all together. I know none of this is true, but there is something creeping beneath my hives, beneath my skin, that wants to explode. It's through my whole body. My feet want to dance, my arms want to squeeze someone, and my head wants to explode.
We arrived here, in Guanajuato, today around 2pm. Tomorrow, I plan on finding a school and starting to study the language. We will be staying in this area for the next month until our amigos arrive. Where exactly? With who? Dunno. I suppose I'll find out soon enough.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Day 16: Churning
I can't make my lips vibrate like a horse. I've been trying all trip. I might give up soon. Andrea says if I don't believe I can, then I never will. But I really can't. hmmmph.
I got a tattoo today, and the pain was nowhere near the pain I felt last night when my stomach was churning inside itself. By far the worst stomach pain I have ever felt, and I know stomach pain. The cause? No idea. Probably an overdose of dairy, luckily this OD didn't kill me. The good news? I made it back to Paulo's house while his Mom was still awake. She made me tea and toast (which comes as toast in a bag) and her motherly concern. When I woke up the pain had spread to my chest, nothing some stretches and papaya couldn't calm.
(Don't worry Mom, I'll be fine, and the tattoo shop was very sanitary and they explained the procedure very well)
I got a tattoo today, and the pain was nowhere near the pain I felt last night when my stomach was churning inside itself. By far the worst stomach pain I have ever felt, and I know stomach pain. The cause? No idea. Probably an overdose of dairy, luckily this OD didn't kill me. The good news? I made it back to Paulo's house while his Mom was still awake. She made me tea and toast (which comes as toast in a bag) and her motherly concern. When I woke up the pain had spread to my chest, nothing some stretches and papaya couldn't calm.
(Don't worry Mom, I'll be fine, and the tattoo shop was very sanitary and they explained the procedure very well)
Monday, September 24, 2007
Day 14: Sunday in the center
Today Queretaro smells like corn tortillas.
I see more happy families in the town center today than I have ever seen at an American zoo, theme park, or parade. Reasoning? I don't know. Maybe it's the size of homes, the dependency or tradition of living with parents until your 27, or simply the culture. Whatever it is, it's beautiful. The children are another beautiful thing. From my observation, they whine less, cry less, and are cute for far longer. Also beautiful? Public transport. Everyone rides the bus, not just those who can't afford to drive. The longest I have had to wait for a bus is 5-10 minutes.
We finished the night watching "the little princess," one of both mine and Paulo's favorites. how wonderful!!!
I see more happy families in the town center today than I have ever seen at an American zoo, theme park, or parade. Reasoning? I don't know. Maybe it's the size of homes, the dependency or tradition of living with parents until your 27, or simply the culture. Whatever it is, it's beautiful. The children are another beautiful thing. From my observation, they whine less, cry less, and are cute for far longer. Also beautiful? Public transport. Everyone rides the bus, not just those who can't afford to drive. The longest I have had to wait for a bus is 5-10 minutes.
We finished the night watching "the little princess," one of both mine and Paulo's favorites. how wonderful!!!
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Day 13: Mi Luna
A sharp pain in my abdomen, cold sweats and shaking, a desire to throw up from the pain. I rehydrate, drink tequila with potato chips (and hot sauce), take deep breaths, and watch Apocalypto. Soon five people turn into twenty, my head is spinning, I am eating delicious food, and surrounded by the most beautiful, generous family I have ever witnessed.
What happened? A mixture of recovering from a night of partying, having cramps, and hanging out with Paulo's family on a Saturday afternoon. The remainder of the night involved walking around the city center, hearing beautiful music, seeing radiant colors, and trying to breathe enough to take it all in without letting the pain envelope me.
What happened? A mixture of recovering from a night of partying, having cramps, and hanging out with Paulo's family on a Saturday afternoon. The remainder of the night involved walking around the city center, hearing beautiful music, seeing radiant colors, and trying to breathe enough to take it all in without letting the pain envelope me.
Day 11: Micheladas in Bernal
We stepped on the city bus with the expectation of arriving at another monument made from rocks in about 25 minutes. Two hours later we arrived at Bernal, not just a monument but an entire city. (I guess I need to pay more attention to all the plans we make...in Spanish?) I never did read or hear to story behind the giant rock in the city of Bernal, but it was pretty sweet. We spent a couple hours walking through the town, eating juicy mango, and beginning to climb up the ginormous rock. However, views of storm clouds nearby sent us back down the rock, through the village, and into a tiny mart for Micheladas. The storm never came, but damn those Micheladas were delicious: Beer with salt, lime, salsa, tomato juice, worchestire, and soy sauce, with chile around the rim. It was an enjoyable day and a slightly ridiculous bus ride home.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Day 9: Absorption
It is so nice to simply be in the company of such beautiful individuals. Reading stories over coffee, speaking of ideas, goals, and life, and just simply being is enough for me. Whether it be a cafe, a park bench, a mountain; over tea, grass, or dreams and aspirations...It doesn't even matter. The culture here feels so gracious. The colors so full of life. The architecture filled with character and history.
We spent the day looking over the arches, loving company over coffee, learning to make jewelry from Mexican hippies, and celebrating Andrea's existence over wine and cake.
We spent the day looking over the arches, loving company over coffee, learning to make jewelry from Mexican hippies, and celebrating Andrea's existence over wine and cake.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Day 7: El Campo
After a ten hour bus ride Monterrey to Guanajuato, delicioso Chile Quiles, two and a half hours to Queretaro and 4 shots of tequila, we found Amolia. However, 4 shots turned into 6, water turned into beer, and hugs turned into dancing. Y ahora mi duele en el estomacho.
But today was the most beautiful yet. Fresh fruit y mas Chiles Quiles for breakfast. Music, walking through the cornfield, eating fried chicken y maiz, drinking Pulque y cerveza, watching the sunset behind the mountains. Can't ask for much more.
But today was the most beautiful yet. Fresh fruit y mas Chiles Quiles for breakfast. Music, walking through the cornfield, eating fried chicken y maiz, drinking Pulque y cerveza, watching the sunset behind the mountains. Can't ask for much more.
Day 5: Mexas (mexico or texas)?
We are leaving Monterrey tonight and headed to Guanajuato (for andreas bag) and Queretaro to see Amolia. I'm really excited. Its been since July, and that girl just lights up my soul.
Our stay here has been good. The city is too big for our style, but the culture is fun. It almost doesn't feel like we're in Mexico. We went to the market today and it was beautiful. Fruit and veggies everywhere! And sellers offering us tastes of cantaloupe. So loud, so exciting. I just stood there glowing. We also went to see the Frieda exhibit, which was...intense.
Our stay here has been good. The city is too big for our style, but the culture is fun. It almost doesn't feel like we're in Mexico. We went to the market today and it was beautiful. Fruit and veggies everywhere! And sellers offering us tastes of cantaloupe. So loud, so exciting. I just stood there glowing. We also went to see the Frieda exhibit, which was...intense.
Day 3: Monterrey
We arrived at Irais' casa around 8pm on the third day of traveling. It feels good to know we'll be here for a couple days. Fixing a home cooked meal to music which reminds me of intoxicating dance parties with Amo and Andrea. The familiarity feels nice. Also, the taste of food with a temperature is a nice change from the crackers, cookies, and trail mix consumed over 35 hours on a train + 8 hours on a bus.
Irais lives in a house with 4 other recent graduates. It is spacious, and beautiful, with an enormous roof that looks over a football field. Our previous couch surfing host, Marc of San Antonio, Texas, lived in a 1 bedroom apartment which was also beautiful. After the train ride from Chicago to Texas, we took a long exhausted stroll along the River walk, while we waited for Johannas bus to arrive. We spent the rest of the night celebrating with tequila.
I understand more espanol than I had expected. Irais and her roommates speak in spanish because they understand the purpose of our trip. When I start to look too overwhelmed or confused they quickly switch to english on my behalf.
Irais lives in a house with 4 other recent graduates. It is spacious, and beautiful, with an enormous roof that looks over a football field. Our previous couch surfing host, Marc of San Antonio, Texas, lived in a 1 bedroom apartment which was also beautiful. After the train ride from Chicago to Texas, we took a long exhausted stroll along the River walk, while we waited for Johannas bus to arrive. We spent the rest of the night celebrating with tequila.
I understand more espanol than I had expected. Irais and her roommates speak in spanish because they understand the purpose of our trip. When I start to look too overwhelmed or confused they quickly switch to english on my behalf.
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