last words

Well, that went by quickly didn't it? I'm back in the Bay Area! It feels great to be home enjoying the wildlife of California (a family of deer just strolled by my window). I'm glad to be vegging out and taking a few days to decompress from moving around every 3-4 days. This traveling experience has been wonderful though frustrating at times. I am positive that I've learned a little bit about how the world functions. I'm sure that I have changed, grown up a bit. These lessons are hard to put into words, but I think they will manifest themselves in my daily life and future interactions with the world around. One thing is certain, I'm not quite done with traveling the world (sorry mom and dad). However, I do want to figure out a more stable way to do it...maybe move to Buenos Aires? =)

Now, for a flashback to my last couple of weeks in Latin America.

My stay in Panama City was a bit bubble-like. Tabitha met me and Natalie there. She had arranged for us to stay in Casco Antiguo, the site of the city's original foundations. I say bubble-like because Casco Antiguo is situated at the end of a small peninsula (easier to defend back in the 1500s) and the charm of a neighborhood in mid-gentrification has attracted fancy restaurants and affluent tourists. Since being declared a World Heritage Site in 1999, the neighborhood has gone through quite a bit of renovation. At this moment, about half of the buildings are bright, shiny, and newly restored while the other half are crumbling into mere skeletons of their old grandeur. The city itself looks a lot like Chicago, with huge condominiums lined up along the waterfront. Interestingly, the tourist maps we picked up all featured real estate and pictures of fancy buildings (including a Trump) instead of marking museums or other points of interest.

The highlight of our time there was definitely crossing the Panama Canal. The inner workings of the canal has not changed since 1914, when it was finished. The trip took about 8 hours and involved our boat climbing 87 ft up from the Pacific and then descending down to the Atlantic. We passed through 6 locks in total. It was amazing to watch HUGE tankers be lifted in the lock next to us at the same exact rate our little boat. And then equally mind-boggling to look across the water to see the Atlantic Ocean a 25ft drop below. All of it is done by gravity, no pumps of any kind are involved in the crossing the canal!

Costa Rica is where Natalie and I parted ways and Jen and Vicki joined me. I visited Monteverde Cloud Forest, Manuel Antonio (read: beach), and Arenal Volcano. At Monteverde we saw the most fascinating butterfly exhibit. We stood and watched as cocoons broke open and beautiful butterflies emerged, dried out their wings, and flew off. Manuel Antonio brought us to our first monkey encounters! We watched cappuchin monkeys groom each other, spider monkeys jump from limb to limb in search of the juiciest leaf, and listened to a howler monkey howl. The beach and ocean was very pretty, but it was way too hot to be sitting in the sun. No eruptions from Arenal Volcano, but Tabitha and I enjoyed a relaxing time at the hot springs which are heated by the volcano. One pool was 113 degrees Fahrenheit! I jumped in it, but could only stay in it for about 3 seconds before my skin boiled off. A word to others considering travel to Costa Rica, book a tour. Independent travel is much more difficult and considerably more expensive there. Oh, and forget buying property in Costa Rica. Nicaragua is the newest hot spot.

Pictures linked in blog title.

Ambato

Sorry if I sounded a bit jaded in my last email. I'd just crossed the border from Peru to Ecuador and was miffed because we'd been scammed by a cab driver who left us semi-stranded after we declined to have him drive us 7 hours overnight to Ambato. In the end, we lost only $1.50 but it just left a sour taste in my mouth. Peru hasn't been the nicest experience. The country itself is gorgeous with a lot of archaeological points of interest. But, it is inundated with tourists and people trying to squeeze every last cent out of them. What I hated the most was that the minute we'd step off of a bus there would be at least 3 men in our faces essentially trying to drag us to their taxis. Ugh. Shaking it off.

During Carnaval it is customary to throw water and get people wet. Throughout the month of February, there are kids and big kids who wield water balloons to throw into open windows of cars and buses and load up water cannons and buckets to get a hapless passerby soaked. Nat and I have spent the month dodging these assaults or at least trying not to react much when we do get wet. The more you react, the more you get wet.

At the last minute, we decided to go to Ambato for Carnaval. It's famous for it's Festival of Fruit and Flowers during the last weekend of Carnaval and therefore very popular among Ecuadorians. Throwing water in Ambato is illegal. Instead, people spray foam at each other or throw hand fulls of flour. Monday night was the peak of Carnaval festivities. Thousands of people lined the streets to watch a parade. I didn't understand why there were so many people because it turned out to be the same exact parade that had passed through Sunday morning. But as soon as the parade finished, the real fun commenced. Throngs of people armed with spray cans of colored foam stormed the streets. Foam Fight!!! The most common technique was to walk casually by a person pulling out the spray can at the last possible moment so that you can get him right in the face and run away before he can react. Nat and I, being a pretty girl with "blonde" curls and a rare Asian gal, were targetted hard. I remember hearing "Mira, la chinita!" several times right before being creamed and blinded by blue/green/pink foam. But don't you worry, we fought back. We got everyone that sprayed us, even if it meant chasing them down and smearing our enemies faces with our own foam filled faces. After the foam fights, dancing in the street was requisite. Definitely a unique experience.



Now, I'm killing time in Quito before I fly out to Panama City. We visited the Equator the other day. We went with three cool guys (Diego, Juan Cristobal, and Raimundo) from Chile. It was like going to an amusement park! There is a massive monument marking 0°-0'-0" longitude (actually, it's off by 200 m) surrounded by several museums, cafes, and restaurants. An orange stone line is drawn into the ground. I was surprised how fun it was to jump from north to south to north to south to north to south. Weee! Of course, I ran a bitty science experiment in a bathroom sink. Water drained straight down!

dim sum yum

It was a Sunday in Lima, Peru.

On Sunday, I'm supposed to eat dim sum.

Nat and I leave our hostel in search of Chinatown in Lima. A long bus ride from posh Miraflores into Downtown Lima. A long stroll to Chinatown which included being soaked by a bunch of kids with water cannons and water balloons.

Sunday in Lima, Peru means carnaval "celebrations". That translates to kids tossing water balloons and wetting passerbyers.

We find a table at a spot that serves dim sum everyday. I hope for carts and carts full of tasty goodies that I have been craving for weeks. No such luck, however, there are two large Asian families sitting and large round tables. That's a good sign. A menu is set in front of me where I should indicate what I desire. My conundrum: the menu is written in Chinese, which I can't read, and translated into Spanish, which I don't recognize. What does JaiZow mean? The only items I could figure out were the ones I didn't want, like Chai Sow Bow.
After about 10 minutes, the only waitress that speaks some Mandarin comes by, she is obviously in high demand. I spout off the things I'm craving in Mandarin to her. We had about a 30% match rate. The dishes came one by one. I was surprised by how good the fish jook was and disappointed by the shiao rong baos. I wouldn't consider it a horrible first time dim sum experience for Natalie by my judgement, but I can't wait for her to come to the bay so I can show her what real dim sum is like.

konichiwa

UPDATE 04/13/2010: Stop commenting. I don't care what you think.

Every day at least one person either yells "Konichiwa!" at me or comments "Oh look, a Japanese/Korean". I haven't decided what irks me more, the fact that they don't assume I'm Chinese as if 1.2 billion people don't represent a significant ethnic group or the fact that they don't assume I'm American. I'm leaning towards the latter; after all I was born in California. I can almost forgive as there is a higher concentration of Japanese tourists than Chinese. But Peru, I should say Lima, has a decent Chinese population. There is even a common dish called chaufan! Saltado de Verduras means stir-fry vegetables! And I've come across Chinese restaurants even in the smallest of towns. There's my rant.

My rave. Let's go back to the time when we did our grocery shopping in markets. My grandmother might have had a word or two against this idea as she went to the market after work every day. But really there's nothing more mouth watering than stands and stands of fresh fruit and vegetables lined up right next to each other. Oh the culinary possibilities! You get the finest pick. If one stand has the nicest tomatoes but ugly spinach, you buy pretty tomatoes and move onto the next stand. Then you go to the spice section where there are freshly prepared sauces and salsas, potato bags full of brightly colored curries, peppers, dried leafy things beautifully arranged for your eyes to feast on. Even the flies-ridden meat market has its charm. I imagine that I'd develop a good relationship with a llama guy and he'll keep the best cut just for me. I'd get special prices on mangoes...
I know, there is a good reason why there is such thing as a grocery store now. Even now, these street stands are all concentrated in a place called Mercado Central. In a few years it'll be called Wal-mart...Let me be a romantic for a little while.

In location news, I'm currently in Nasca, Peru waiting to fly over the mysterious Nasca lines (crop circles in rocks and desert). For any who think that I have been frolicking in warm weather beaches, I assure you that I have been clinging dearly to my Patagonia fleece for the last three months. In fact, a good chunk of my travels have been spent in altitudes over 12,000 ft. It's cold up there.
Anyway, I have finally arrived in the land of sun and heat and elegant desert. I'm sweaty. Uck. :P

Did it, happy now?

Alright, I've done it, I've clamored around Machu Picchu. With all of the promise of tourist hordes and constant solicitation (a boy called me a crazy fuck for not buying anything from him or buying him ice cream) in Cusco and Aguas Calientes (pueblo just outside MP), Nati and I nearly decided to skip the famous ruins. This morning, I was cursing those of you who would have berated me for it.

Being frugal travellers, we had tried to beat the system to get to Aguas Calientes by taking routes a local would. In the end, we were forced to spend more than we had to in the first place. I bought round trip tix for a first class train. Grah! And then the bus company to MP tried to scam us because we paid in soles instead of US dollars. hello? what country am i in? And entrance cost us $15 more than we'd expected, which makes a huge difference when you're on a $30/day budget. Not a good start.

We lined up like a good tourist at 5AM this morning to catch the very first bus up to MP. It was raining and cold and early. We entered the park at 6AM. We proceeded to muck our way around lost for about an hour in the rain and fog; couldn't see much of anything but the puddled trail in front of me. For my $40USD you would think I'd be provided with a printed map or clear signs. Finally we found the ruins. Tell ya what, not so impressive in fog. Happened upon a registration booth where we absent-mindedly signed in. Started walking down a path of stairs. Took a turn off that lead down down down and down a mountain, because we didn't want to go up. Dropped us into some well-preserved ruins inside a cave. Proved the theory: what goes down must go up. From the cave, we followed a stairway straight, nearly vertical, back up to the top of the mountain. My heart rate reached a dangerously high bpm even while treading slowly and steadily. And I was more wet. Nati and I looked at each other, both drenched, thinking...what is this human obsession with getting to the top of everything?! why are we climbing? We can't see shit in the clouds and rain. Finally at the top, we found MP covered in clouds, never ending clouds. Great. We sat, hoped, and waited for the clouds to clear.

Okay, so happy ending, the clouds clear by noon and we dry off in the sun for two hours at the top. The view was fantastic. The surroundings were gorgeous. We spent the rest of the day avoiding tourist groups, exploring well-designed and engineered buildings and temples, and teaching guides English. We passed almost ten hours in total at the ruins and left happy that we'd suffered through the morning. Turns out, I was the 5th person of 348 to register for the super hike to the viewpoint today!

Cabeza de Vaca...Humahuaca!

Another example of Argentine hospitality.

New Year's Eve in Humahuaca, a small town in northern Argentina. Nati and I followed the music of a marching band to an obscure part of town. We found a small brass band playing outside on a corner. We're grooving and tapping our feet for about 15 minutes when all of a sudden about ten boys in bright costumes burst out of a doorway, dancing and jumping in the streets. The parade starts off. Costumes in front, band, line of girls with a line of boys just behind. A new year's song; something something "todo alegre". Nati and I follow the parade up and down the streets of Humahuaca. We meet two locals who dance with us and lead us to the front of the parade. Running running running. At the end of the parade, the two guys invite us up to their house. As we enter, their grandmother is spraying sparkling cider (instead of champagne) all over the balcony and us. We sit down at their table with grandpa, grandma, brothers, cousins, grandchild, and other various family members. Two plates of food are set in front of us. On insistence, Nati and I take down our second dinner for the night. The whole family treats us like long lost cousins! Grandpa declares that he is so happy to be able to be our surrogate family while our parents are so far away. "Nunca se olvide Humahuaca!"
He's right, I won't ever forget New Year's 2007 in Humahuaca.

Christmas in Salta

Rented a four bedroom house with a pool in an upscale barrio of Salta called Tres Cerritos. Address: Los Abedules 255.

Christmas day was rang in at midnight with a splash in our pool. Fireworks from all of the neighbors. Games of chicken. And kisses as if it were New Year's Eve.

Fifteen guests were expected for Christmas dinner. Our Irish boys, Fitzy and Seamus, did everything to make dinner a memorable one. Women weren't allowed in the kitchen after 1pm. Two turkeys and stuffing had already been cooked the previous evening! What a change, the men of the house took care of everything from setting the table to planning and cooking an entire three course dinner. When we were finally allowed to attack the buffet, we found 15 pre-plated servings of turkey, mashed potatoes, fried potatoes, roasted potatoes, carrots, brussell sprouts, two types of stuffing, and tasty gravy. Dessert was apple pie by Nati and home-mixed oreo chocolate ice cream with Irish coffees and chocolate liqueur for an aperitif. Geez, we ate like royalty.



The rest of the week at the house was spent in our swimming suits, in and out of the pool. Our neighbors popped by two days after Christmas. Paula and her boyfriend, Fernando took us in like family. Actually, more like their only friends in the world. They made pizza for us one night. Fernando took Seamus to get his chipped tooth filled in. On Friday, they took six of us out to Campo Alegre. We spent the whole day at the reservoir playing in the water, kayaking, canoeing, and windsurfing. Paula's dad took two trips to ferry us all there! Seriously, these guys took hospitality to an extreme. After meeting them, we went to sleep to their goodnight kisses and woke to their grinning faces for almost three days straight! To be honest, it was overbearing. The six of us left at the end of the week, Adam, Noah, Fitz, Seamus, Nati, and me, really just wanted to have some quality time to ourselves.

I wonder how I would treat a foreigner in my hometown.

In general, I had a good time over Christmas. However, it was hard for me to get into Christmas spirit. And even harder for me to join in on all of the laughing and fun. Felt a bit like an observer looking in on a great party from a frosted window. Something that actually happens often, but seems more pronounced now that I don't even really try anymore.

My One Do-Over

Mom & Dad, this story has a happy ending.

Nati and I arrived in Mendoza in the morning. After an afternoon of shopping to spruce up our 2 month old wardrobe, we decided to siesta in a big plaza. I napped for a good hour underneath a tree using my bag as a pillow. As I started to stir and wake, I heard fast steps and felt my bag get pulled from under my head. I don't think my head even hit the ground before I was up running after the thief. I just instinctually started off. It took me several strides before I realized that I was running barefoot after a youthful lad with long legs who had just stolen my bag!! My money! My passport! My bus ticket! My new dress!!

The boy ran and ran... and me after him screaming for someone to help me. My intention really was only to keep him in my sights and hopefully get someone ahead to tackle the guy. No such luck. For nearly four blocks people watched as he zipped by them... and then stared as I ran past too. Finally, the guy slowed to a walk to round a corner. It was my chance to catch up since by that time I was one block behind. I have no idea what I would have done if I had caught up to him. As I neared flailing my arms screaming ¡Ayudame!, three policemen guarding the same corner realized what was going on. They chased and caught him! With my bag returned and me unscathed, I was happy to spend the rest of the afternoon filing the police report.

Gotta tell you that I surprised myself with my reflexive chasing. I realize that I can only tell this story cheerily because it ended well. I know I was really lucky that the police happened to be around. I am truely thankful.

That was it, my one do-over. Next time I won't be so lucky. Next time I will be more careful. I promise!

Southern Argentina and Patagonia

We left Puerto Madryn on a 30 hour bus ride to Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. Some of you may argue that there are cities in Antarctica; they don't count, they're not big enough to be called a city. Also, for anyone considering this trip, it's a pain in the arse. We had to cross the Chilean border a few times, so my passport is now drowning in Chilean and Argentine stamps. In Ushuaia, Nati and I met up with Fitz and Seamus, our Irish friends from Buenos Aires. The four of us rented a car and drove out to Desdemona. She is a big freight liner ship that wrecked on a beach in 1989. We arrived at low tide which meant we were able to crawl and clamor all over this huge rusty ship. I took the opportunity to climb up one of the tall ship masts to grab a few pictures from up high and for the thrill. We spent the next two days hiking around the Parque Nacional del Tierra del Fuego and goofing off in the southernmost golf course. The best part of traveling with four people is that we all get to save money by cooking together. Thanksgiving dinner was fish fillet, mashed potatoes, peas, pumpkin (thanks mom!), bottle of wine, and ice cream for dessert!



Next, the four of us headed up to El Calafate where we again rented a car to drive to the Perito Moreno Glacier. It's this huge dynamic glacier. We just sat for a while watching and listening to big hunks crash into the water. The blue ice was a very deep and clear blue. It was really amazing to think about how old the ice was. It seemed so close that we could touch it. While in Calafate, Nati, Fitz, Seamus, and I decided that we would attempt to conquer the ' W ' trek. It's is a famous 5 day hike through Torres del Paine National Park (yeah, I didn't know about it either).



The jumping off point for Torres del Paine is Puerto Natales. We spent one afternoon renting all of the necessary camping gear, buying food for a week, and packing it all up. Our hostel owner Omar, a tall skinny long haired Chilean, hooked us up with a thermos for hot soup. It was my first time hiking while carrying a big pack, so I was excited for the challenge.

Day 1 of the hike was brutal. The terrain was actually quite easy, but the wind was blowing against us. I estimate at upwards of 70mph. I've learned that I will not survive a hurricane. There were moments that I swear I was standing at a 45 degree angle with one leg trying it's mightiest to move forward. We were rewarded at the end with a royal blue lake.




Day 2 was a long hike up and back from Glacier Grey in crap weather and then across to a free campsite.

Day 3 was beautiful. Despite two grandisimo blisters on my heels, it was my favorite hike. The trail weaved through forest, across streams, over boulders, and along a stoney black&white beach with the sounds of avalanche in the background. From the trail, we experienced some of the greatest views of the Torres mountain range.

On Day 4, the guys schemed a plan to go ahead with minimal gear (meaning one tent for four of us) since they were hiking at almost 1.5 times our speed. That was a hard hike uphill for an hour but still through beautiful terrain and great views.

Our last day, we woke at 4:30am so we could catch sunrise at Torres del Paine, the grand prize. Torres del Paine is a set of towers formed by geologic magic. As the sun peeks over the horizon, it's light hits the towers and lights them up in awesome oranges and reds. The hike up may have been my lowest point just because my feet were in so much pain, Nati too had twisted her knee and the two of us nearly cried while climbing up what seemed a never ending pile of boulders. But it was all well worth it. Sunrise was beautiful and I felt so accomplished that I made it through 5 days of trekking.




Looking back though, we didn't rough it too much. We cooked great meals of spaghetti bolognese and Irish stew. Porridge for breakfast. Hot soup, salami, tuna salad, and crackers for lunch. We didn't even need to carry water because all of the water in the streams and lake is drinkable and very tasty. I even got to take one shower. Still, I proudly declare that I have hiked The W.

Perito Moreno is the half-way point between El Calafate and Bariloche. It's a quiet town with one main street. It is also the home of Cuevas de Las Manos (Cave of Hands). Nati and I stayed here a couple of days extra while the Irish boys moved on. The tour of the caves was really interesting. There are about 70 caves in the region with hand prints painted with minerals, guanaco blood, and spit. Hundreds of "I was here!" declarations from 7,000 to 3,000 BC. One 6-fingered hand, only 33 left hands of 859 total, and one foot. Maricelo, our hostel owner, took us in for two days as surrogate daughters. He made us pizza and had breakfast ready for us each morning!


All along this trip through Patagonia, I have California in the back of my mind. Much of the scenery is very similar to those you'd find in CA. The Sierras, Lake Tahoe, Death Valley, boring farmlands, beaches are all here just on a grander scale. Makes me appreciate home.

Puerto Madryn & Punto Tombo, Argentina

My first 20 hour bus ride down to Puerto Madryn actually went quite well. We booked full-cama (beds) seats so we could lean almost all the way back. The in-ride meals were surprisingly tasty and the ride attendant was a star.

As soon as we entered our hostel on Wednesday, we met three Israeli fellows who had the same idea as we did: rent a car. The five of us, sped around Peninsula Valdez on Thursday where we encountered penguins, elephant whales, llamas, ostriches, sheep, cows, and horses (mostly the latter). The highlight of the day was a whale-watching tour. The southern right whales breed here in Puerto Madryn and number in the 1000s at times. They have already started to migrate and there are about 200 left in the bay. Still, our little tour boat sidled right up to a mother whale with her baby just chilling out. The baby was nursing for a long while and then with a burst of energy put on a pretty good show by splashing about and showing off its tail. I have a good video of it that I´ll post as soon as I can figure out how.



Today, Nati & I drove our little car through gravel roads at a speedy 60kph to reach Punto Tombo where the largest colony of Mallegenic penguins come to breed. We even backtracked once to give a stranded guy a ride back to civilization because that´s gravel road etiquette. When we reached the colony, we spent about 3 hours just sitting amongst the penguins. Amongst, as in face-to-face, foot-to-webbed foot. There were a few that even came up and nibbled at our jeans and tried for my toes. Their eggs have just begun to hatch, so we caught a few glimpses at some penguin chicks. They are so cute!! There was a main pathway that the penguins waddled up and down in order to get to the water. It was like a penguin highway!! It took my best efforts not to guffaw loudly so as not to scare them away.



When I started out on this trip, I thought 4 months was a good amount of time to be travelling. Now having met travellers who are on 6 month, 8 month, 1 year, and 2 year trips, I'm rethinking. I should have planned and saved for a longer trip. I won't lie and say that this is the happiest time of my life; however, I am quite content. Traveling to new places and getting to know the character of a place is very fulfilling. I wonder why I am not as excitable or as enthusiastic as I expected myself to be. Perhaps I am just getting old and youthful naivete has left me. Perhaps Karen's death has dampened my spirits in general. Honestly though, doing all of these wonderful things and thinking about her never being able to as she dreamed to, makes me very sad and melancholy. I hope it is not permanent.

Punta del Diablo, Uruguay

I spent the last 4 days in paradise. It was so perfect that I'm almost hesitant to write about it, lest the secret get out.

On the word of a fellow traveller and an insignificant sentence in our travel guide, Natalie and I decided to go to Punta del Diablo, Uruguay. The trip there took a total of 19 hours with a stop in Montevideo. The capital city is old and crumbly. Many of the buildings show signs of past grandeur but are now covered in soot and seemingly abandoned. The people walking around seemed laid-back with their maté tucked underneath their arm.

Punta del Diablo is a small fishing village with maybe 500 people in the low season. The village developed kind of randomly as people just built cabins and houses wherever they felt like. We arrived at Punta del Diablo after sunset. I inquired at the police station for a lady that was to rent us a cabin. Our cabin was a certified love nest. Situated atop a hill, we had the most perfect view of the beach and ocean waves. The next four days went something like this. Waking up to our perfect view and taking breakfast of fresh fruit and cereal on our sun deck. Taking a walk down to the beach, sunning, or exploring the area before taking lunch at a bitty bar/restaurant. Then walking through town making house calls to friends we'd made and talking to the locals who would sometimes invite us in for a beer. The evening was reserved for dining at El Viejo y El Mar, a restaurant where you eat whatever the chef feels like making for you. Natie and I hosted a BBQ feast one night at our place. Then, we spent the night hanging out with our traveller friends, playing cards, drinking wine, and watching the moon rise. We only intended to stay for 2 nights but ended up staying for 4. Our life there was just so relaxed and simple we didn't want to leave. There was no such thing as being too early or too late. The locals were very nice and welcoming. By the time we left, we felt like locals ourselves. I promised Ernesto, aka el viejo, that I'd go back one day.





Now, I'm back in Buenos Aires for a couple of days before heading down to Patagonia to see the whales and penguins. Today, I will be going to a Boca Juniors football game. My friend is getting us tickets in the middle of the crazy section (don't be jealous brother). Hopefully we'll come out alive.

Pictures at http://trixyone.smugmug.com

Buenos Aires, Argentina

Pictures: http://trixyone.smugmug.com

As the plane touched down in Buenos Aires, I realized that this is the first time I have crossed the equator! So far this hemisphere has been a blast. Buenos Aires is a large city that actually reminds me a bit of Taipei. It is crowded, dirty, and the sidewalks are broken and uneven. There are all types of stores stuffed into small spaces, barred Kioscos that sell snacks and drinks, buses galore, and people, masses of people walking the streets. I am staying in a quaint hostel that spoils me with a balcony and rooftop where Natalie and I have taken our breakfast every morning.



The weather has been beautiful. Natie, aka Natalie, and I have explored most of Buenos Aires. Palermo is the Soho of BA with cute shops and restaurants. La Boca, famous for its colorful buildings, is quaint but obviously for tourists as the slums can be seen just beyond the neighborhood. I took a tango class and hope to master the sensual dance when I return. We toured Recoleta Cementary, which has 4,800+ mausoleums, including the one Eva Peron is buried. It is kind of like a small town with big´mansions, chapels, small houses, and abandoned ones too. Today we took a 2 hour bus ride out to San Antonio de Areco to take part in a festival celebrating the gaucho culture. We got soaked in rain but not before getting a tour of the quaint town, horses, gauchos, and taking part in the town bbq. THe nightlife has been grand as well. These people don´t go out until 2am in the morning and return around 8am!



The people have been very kind to us and seem to lead happy lives. Everywhere we have gone someone seems to be very curious about where we are from and what we are doing here. They are very liberal with suggestions for where we should go. Argentines are very proud of their country. For them, nothing is a big deal; life is good. We´ve made some fast, though temporary, friends who have made our stay here warm and full of laughs.

always, kasi

1980-2006
my heart, my soul, my everything

it's been near two months. don't want sympathy, just i wasn't sure how to tell those of you who don't already know. and i miss her.

the news.

our story, as read on september 04, 2006.

" Karen and I met in first grade, we were both six. I don’t remember meeting her; she has just been in my life for as far as I can remember. You have to understand that she is my historian. I call her to verify my past experiences. Considering this, it is an impressive feat that I do have some memories of our childhood to share.
In second grade, we pretended to be drunk while walking home from a field trip to a pizza place. We played witches instead of house and chased a boy named Winston around the playground. I have an indelible image of the two of us sharing one burnt orange jacket with a fur fringe hood. Her arm in one sleeve, mine in the other, plastered together like Siamese twins.
In fifth grade, kids teased us and called us the Karen & Tracy Show. We not so secretly were proud of the fact that we were inseparable.
High school saw us through silly crushes and first loves. Her house was our hub and I remember we would always gather there for pool parties and just hanging out.
She and I moved to Berkeley together, and grew apart for awhile. But she was still there for me when I needed her most.
Even growing up together I never fully became aware of the permanence of her presence in my life until one night we went out trying to cheer ourselves up from recent breakups. We ended up crying in each others arms in the car and falling asleep wrapped together.
We watched each other grow into women. We have distinct personalities yet we share the same thought processes, the same essence. Inevitably, one would say “You know, I was just thinking some random & inappropriate thought.” And the other would chime, “Oh my gosh, me too!” And, Karen would always know how to make sense of the jumbles in my head. She’d know the right words to say, “Tell him, blah, blah, blah,” as if she was my script writer.
Our conversations didn’t consist only of talking about boys and relationships. We also discussed and debated topics in politics, philosophy, sociology, current events, biology, ethics, celebrity gossip and Star Trek, our fears and secret desires.
As I listened to friends tell story after story of Karen’s selflessness Wednesday night, I made an effort to recall a time where Karen acted for her own selfish, self-interest. Nada. I got nothing. Only times when I was selfish and benefited from her.
For those of you who may have not known Karen as intimately, she’s the slightly awkward when you first meet her. Quiet at first, but once you get her talking. It’s a flood of fast-talking, random trivia, inquisitive questions, silly musings, and laughter.
When you look at the two of us together, I think that from the outside it seems like I’m the stronger of us two. She seems reserved, quiet; she was moving towards a career, stability, buying a house & creating permanence. I’m a bit more outgoing; I take higher risks & lead a life of “adventure” moving and traveling from place to place. In reality, I couldn’t have done any of that without her strength and confidence behind me. I knew that no matter what happened to me out in the crazy world she would be there to save me, to pick up my pieces, to love me. I could do anything because she believed in me.
I call Karen my best friend, but that’s not really true. She is not my soul mate either. This woman is as much an influence on who I am as my mother and father. She is my conscience, my heart, my mind. Karen is my everything.
For the last 2.5 years we’ve been living in different cities. Our friendship has been near daily phone calls, & photo exchanges, and of course chatting online incessantly. She’s become this voice in my head. The last time I heard her voice we were singing Peter, Paul, & Mary songs to each other until we fell asleep. I have her in me, with every fiber, I feel her with me.
On Saturday, I was to fly to San Diego to get a glimpse of her new life, finally, her new adventure. We were going to celebrate our 20th anniversary. Twenty years of friendship. And here's to twenty more."

taco time trial

the taco time trial. yet another reason why i love chicago.

participants are given a list of checkpoints that they visit to win. each address corresponds to a local taqueria where tacos will be served. racers have to eat one taco at each spot. bonus points for eating a burrito.


frank also mentioned that there would be drink spots where girls would be serving up random drinks, water, coffee, soda, milk, juice. luck of the draw!

oh man, i wish i could see this.

go huh.

months ago, i had a thought to post a daily/weekly quote found in the wit & wisdom section of the week. (i've touted this magazine before and will continue to, because i love it.) and then maybe reflect on it's significance, what it means to me, blah blah blah. but, i'm lazy. :p

so instead, a list of quotes that made me go huh or heh or amen! a filtered list from a filtered list; the most purified. let's start with, say, five now. maybe five later.

"don't knock the weather; nine-tenths of the people couldn't start a conversation if it didn't change once in a while." - kin hubbard

"the greatest pleasure in life is to do good by stealth and be found out by accident." - charles lamb

"a person is not old until regrets take the place of dreams." - john barrymore, quoted under a honest tea bottlecap. yum!

"if you don't know where you are going, any road will take you there." - lewis carroll

"extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence." - carl sagan

no 'e'

this book was brought to my study long ago. i can not fathom how many fortnights it took to accomplish this undoubtfully arduous task! a flat vocabulary brings about pain to my brain. thank Buddha for a virtual synonym dictionary. this mission is difficult if using good grammar. now, you try to a stanza or two.

Serotonin Sin

the pretzel shop on my way to work is an incognito chocolate heaven. i stopped in on a whim for some iced coffee and to have a look at gourmet organic pretzels. right at the counter, there is an array of gourmet chocolates (vosges, schraffen berger, lindt, kinder___, etc). i select a bar just as the enticing-impromptu-purchase display intends. i put in my iced coffee order. when turn around to wait for my coffee, i come face-to-face with a wall of gourmet, boutique chocolates! a WALL!! one brand even includes a love poem on each wrapper. there are so many different kinds of chocolates that i could probably spend $100s trying each kind. in fact, i probably will.

i shared my discovery with the receptionist downstairs. we both agree; it's deliciously sinful.

fun chocolate factoids and links:
- the sugar in chocolate sparks the release of a nerve chemical called serotonin and might lower another nerve chemical called NPY; the end result is a sense of well-being.
- chocolate contains a substance called anandamide that mimics the effects of marijuana and boosts the pleasure you get when you eat chocolae.
http://www.exploratorium.edu/chocolate/
http://bbc.co.uk/science/hottopics/chocolate/addictive2.shtml

babies. world health. darwin.

stats: 2 million babies a year die within 24 hours of birth worldwide. 2 million babies die a year within its first month worldwide.

99% (3.96 mil) of all newborn deaths are in developing contries leaving 40,000 to the developed world. the United States ranks 2nd lowest in newborn mortality rate (5 deaths/1,000 births); tied with Hungary, Poland, Malta, and Slovakia.

Melinda Gates says, "All children, no matter where they are born, deserve a healthy start in life."
could you imagine the impact 4 million more healthy babies would have on the world, global economy, Earth? this is where my survival of the fittest philosophy kicks in. if the newborn is not healthy enough to surive its first month, the newborn wasn't meant to be a part of this Earth. sorry. try again later. (as much as i revel in science and technology, my darwinian philosophy sometimes applies to medical advancement and technology as well.)

the report highlights three most influencial areas on newborn health. female education because educated women are more likely to seek health care. use of family planning and contraception. presence of trained birth attendants in case of complications.

let's just think about the situation the United States, the richest country on this planet, is in: second to last place. presence of trained birth attendants: check. education: mmm, considering the U.S. is a "First World" country its citizens could be more educated about prenatal health. family planning/contraception: Mr. Bush's idea of family planning is to just say no, so I would say we aren't doing too well in this category either. i suspect that our society's reluctance to talk about sex and its consequences has a large effect on our performance in newborn and sexual health. what it all comes down to is that pregnant women (and everyone else) need easier access to health care and health education in this country.

i really hope no one is looking to the U.S. to be the guiding light in this area.

We Are America

briefly thinking over this immigration issue, i'm not quite sure where i stand. i don't pretend to have more than a surface level understanding of the issues or legislations at hand. i do find the idea of singing our national anthem in Spanish inappropriate though. if the idea is to convince the "legal" American public that immigrants are woven into the 'fabric of America' then sing the damn song in English. wouldn't singing in English be so much more symbolic considering most Americans don't know how the entire song goes? besides, not ALL illegal immigrants speak Spanish. you could say, "but Tracy, English isn't even the United States' official language. in fact, the US doesn't have an official language." well, screw that, English is, at the very least, the common language in this country. one that we can all unite under...aw...

the Korean restaurant i work at serves the most authentic Korean food i've found in Chicago, other than way up in koreatown. the current owner, Jun, is also the current chef. unfortunately, it's changing owners; meaning Jun will no longer be chef. we have one kitchen hand, Hector. i walked into the kitchen today and stopped to listen to Jun and Hector talk. they were conversing in a crazy mix of Korean and Spanish and seemed to clearly communicate. Jun learned to cook, make kim chi, and mix sauces all from his mother. And now, Jun is bestowing his Korean cooking knowledge onto Hector in an effort to make sure Hector can keep his job when the new owners come in. and there it is. evidence that illegal immigrants ARE America.

follow me in my thought process. a part of a society's culture is its food. America's food comprises of international influences and foods representing all of the different types of people in it. if you look into the kitchen of America's restaurants, you'll likely find an illegal immigrant, who is most likely Latin American, at the stove. these immigrants learn to cook all of the different types of food served, Chinese, Italian, American, Californian, Korean, Japanese, German, Moroccan, etc. let's take Marina Foods (an Asian grocery store with a restaurant and bakery) on Stevens Creek as an example. the kitchen help are mostly Latino. you can watch them make chow mein, sui mai, noodle soups, dumplings, bbq pork buns, and an assortment of buns that i haven't an inkling of how to make. they even speak enough Mandarin to identify the foods. in the long run, the people that know how to make all of these wonderfully tasting foods are the illegal immigrants!
illegal immigrants make America's food.
food make cultural identity.
illegal immigrants make America's cultural identity!
They ARE America!!
...
of course, this begs the larger question of how to define one's culture or identity. but that's a big fish that i'm not rightly equipped to wrestle. what are cultural identifiers? food? ritual? dance? language? if one learns to make Chinese food, is one now Chinese? if one learns to hula, is one Hawaiian? if one can write in hieroglyphics, is one Egyptian?

glub glub

The world’s largest aquarium opened in Atlanta, Georgia in November 2005. The Ocean Voyager exhibit holds six million gallons of salt water and 100,000 fish; two of which are whale sharks, currently 20ft long and expected to grow to 40+ft! Fantastic! I want to go, sit down, and pretend I’m a rock at the bottom of the ocean. I’ll watch as the fish, sharks, stingrays, and whatever else swims about me. I will be a part of the ocean! First thing I do when I get settled back in Chicago, learn to scuba dive.