half of my india budget

for the special few who might actually understand and laugh at me for this.

so i was window shopping in delhi yesterday. i met an older gentleman who was probably in his mid-fifties along the way. he was eating an ice cream cone. anyway, he ended up leading me to a coffee house where locals hangout. but before we sat down for coffee, he said, "oh, let me show you this good kashmiri carpet place that is just around the corner." out of politeness, i went into the store which had rich carpets and silks hanging on the walls. the salesman started rolling out carpets and explaining the quality and history of kashmiri weaving.

whoosh, carpet, whoosh, carpet, whoosh.

i listened attentively and oohed at the appropriate times. i was enjoying the salesman's distinguished english and a kahava (a special kashmiri drink) with cookies.

whoosh, carpet.

now, you all know what persian carpets are like. they were mostly in bright bold colors that never match anything in a house like cinnamon hot red, royal blue, forest green. and the patterns were equally gaudy.

whoosh, carpet.

he rolls out one in MY color!! an olivey-lime green, more olive than lime. it also has browns, golds, and a hint of orange. the pattern is interesting but not too obtrusive. it could match a lot of my furniture and my taste in decor. i loved it. i bought it. i spent more than half of my trip's budget for it. but it'll be shipped directly to my door in chicago. and it's an investment that'll be passed down for generations right? besides, carpets go under a different budget heading - housewares/furniture. i left laughing at myself. only i would randomly meet a man on the street and end up spending more than $500.

Overstimulated

A few notes.

1. I'm dirty. Everyday my face and nostrils are caked in dirt and grime. Thank goodness for facial wipes.

2. The men in India are drab, at least in attire. The women are like gemstones in a basket of pebbles. It doesn't seem to matter what their economic status is, the women's saris are always a rich, bright color. It's like nature reversed where the females display their plumes and waggle about to attract a mate. I don't think that's their intention, but it certainly attracts my eye.

3. Life in India is organic. Even the traffic. It is always flowing. Adjusting and altering course to get around an obstacle. Even though every bit of day-to-day life is chaotic and frantic, things get done. As Sai remarked, it has to. I kind of envy it. American life is so rigid in comparison. You have to fill out the right forms, follow the right steps, in the right order, at the right time. We could use a bit of the flavor here at home.

4. Traveling without knowing the language is hard! I got around in S. America fine because I spoke some Spanish. But man, I would be so lost here without 
a translator. All I can do is stare back blankly when someone tries to speak to me. I feel so dumb! I've just started to pick up a few Hindi words like one, two, hundred, how much, no. But we'll be heading to South India where they don't speak Hindi. D'OH!

5. Holy sugar high. I feel like I've been eating non-stop since we took off from Chicago. Every meal is followed by either chai or coffee. Both of which are sugared and milky. Yum, yes. Happy tummy, no. There are some traditional foods and treats that are nearly pure sugar. They taste so good, but my body just won't take more than a few nibbles.

Whoa. India.

Whoa...I'm in India.

We arrived Sunday morning around 3am (about 4pm Saturday Chicago time). 

In an attempt to adjust to the local time, we went to bed. I don't think either of us slept much. Instead we listened to the orchestra of India. A dog barked incessantly outside the window. At about 5am, a rhythmic swish, swish, swish, swish counted the minutes away as someone started their never ending battle against dirt and dust. A man sang to the sunrise, and the train whistles near by sounded like a battalion of trumpets.

My first day was spent learning to avoid being slammed into by rickshaws and mototaxis while trying not to step in a pile of cow dung all in the same moment! Let's just say that I'm lucky Sai has my back.

Much more to reflect on, but we've got to make the most of our day here in Delhi. We're off to Varanasi this afternoon.

watch out! whale shark!

I blogged about going to the Georgia Aquarium back in February 2006. The opportunity to go came up July of this year. Tabitha was going to Atlanta for a business trip, so I tagged along. I think I was in town for just a little over 24 hours. The first thing we did after I got there was to lounge by the pool. We listened to a hot hot hot boy sing "Wicked Games" to us. For dinner I took Tabitha to Dante's Down the Hatch, of course. It's a fondue place that's built and decorated to replicate a 19th century dock in London. My mom and I had gone there back in 1999(?). I had a great time then, so I had to take Tabitha. It's fondue. Who can pass up fondue?

The next morning, I left early for the aquarium so I would have to deal with as big of a crowd. Tabitha met up with me later to go on our Behind the Scenes Tour.


I immersed myself in front of the second largest viewing window in the world for nearly an hour. Schools of brown-nosed rays swirled around like a barrage of B2 Bombers. Two huge sunfish just hovered and stared right out the window as if they were studying us. Of course, the most fascinating were the whale sharks. The aquarium had just flown in two new whale sharks that were about 14ft long to join the other two 18-footers. That's as big as a semi truck. AND they're no where near full grown! These gentle giants circled near the top of the tank. If I remember correctly, the docent said there were over 10,000 fish in that one tank. Hardly a representation of a real ocean in that you would never find that many fish concentrated in one place. I wondered if the fish got stressed out from the congestion. Anyway, my eyes were bedazzled and awed.

As if that wasn't enough, our Behind the Scenes Tour took us through the aquariums innards. We saw their water filtration system, labs, and "state of the art" fish operating room. Best of all, a top view of the big tank and of the whale sharks!

My day at the aquarium was all that I could imagine! I would love to come back in 10 years to see how the reefs and fish have grown. Tab and I took a lot of pictures that reside on her Flickr page. I get to take credit for half of the amazing ones. =)

chicago moment

Location: Washington and Dearborn. Across the street from the Chriskindlmarket (aka Daley Plaza).

Time: At the tail end of morning rush hour. The last of the late risers trotting to work.

Seen: A black woman around 65 years old perched, cross-leged, on a planter (one of those anti-terrorist tall planters). She was dressed in all shades of blue, mostly royal blue. Even her bouffant hair was spray-painted "blue". Outfitted in a smart dress suit and accessorized to the nines in cheap gold earings and big blue necklaces, she waved at passerbys with one hand. In the other, she gingerly held a martini glass filled with what looked like Irish coffee with a mound of whipped cream. It might have been fake, since there was not one swash with all of her waving. I think she was softly singing to me as I turned to wave.

Regret: No camera!! Maybe she'll be there tomorrow.

suspended

"No-one, and nothing [can] really hurt me. No-one, and nothing, [can] make me very happy."

-Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts

Batman...come out to play!

Batman: The Dark Knight has been filming in Chicago for a couple of months and are scheduled to do so through September. The crew is using the empty lot next to my office as a staging area. The entire operation has been understandably uber-secretive. Even so, I am truly disappointed at the lack of Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, and Maggie Gyllenhaal sightings. Actually, aside from on-the-set glimpses, Bale and Ledger seem like ghosts in this town. I respect these actors and would love to hang out. But really, I just want them to be out and about, falling in love with the city, and raving about how wonderful Chicago is. The stunt guys regularly come to the restaurant I work at and update us on the filming schedule, so I know you guys are here! C'mon come out and play!!

cicada hunt

Tabitha and I went on a cicada hunt sometime last month. These guys emerge from the ground once every 17 years for a mass mating. Their babies hatch and bury themselves for another 17 years.

We finally found them at a forest preserve in the northwest suburbs (Glen Ellyn, IL). Boy were they loud! And e v e r y w h e r e. And so ugly. It was awesome. On one small plant, I counted over 30 cicadas. They were pretty inactive; just sat there and stared with buggy red eyes. But, when they climbed up a tree to find a mate, they were in a real hurry! My scientific observation and calculation puts them at a proportional speed of 35 miles an hour. We must have ogled for almost an hour. Tabitha has a video of one climbing and of us screeching in delight in the background.

Click blog title for pictures at Tab's flickr page.

new bullet point

on my list of people that i roll my eyes at.

• people who cannot fathom the idea of anyone eating food other than foods they are comfortable with. examples: guinea pig, cricket, rat, squirrel, cicada, worm.

while heading to work from my infusion/lunch, i passed a small group of people discussing the latest travel programs they watched. a girl squeamished, "i saw one where this guy was roasting a guinea pig on a stick. i mean, how can you eat guinea pig? yuck." (click for photo, courtesy of tim)

well, dear lady, you eat guinea pig, rat, squirrel, cicadas, and worms when that's the food that is available to you. it's fine if you don't like the idea of eating guinea pig or worms. howver, you cannot scoff at another culture's or person's choice of food. it makes you sound small minded and ignorant. by the way, guinea pig tastes pretty darn good and juicy, kind of like duck.

just because i roll my eyes at you doesn't mean i don't like you. just maybe a little less than i did before.

looptopia

I emailed the following to my friends who are associated with Chicago. I posted it here because I am that enthusiastic about Chicago.

Dear Once, Present, and Future Chicago Citizens,

Looptopia is this Friday from 5pm to sunrise. Chicago's theater, music, arts, film, dance, and other spectacles will be showcased for FREE! All night long!! It is billed as America's first all-night cultural and artistic celebration and there is no better place than our fair city.

Events like Looptopia and SummerDance are what make Chicago stand out as the best city to live in. In my eyes, Chicago is an innovator in city sponsored activity, community building, and culture. And then there are the grassroots events that make me grin from ear to ear. I really feel like Chicago tries it's best to get it's citizens to appreciate food, art, culture, theater, creativity, community, sport, and his neighbor. This isn't only a good place to earn a living, it's a great place to enjoy living.

Take a gander at the first-ever Looptopia schedule (http://www.looptopia.com). Pick out two or three things you'd like to participate in. Make it a point to go! This is the innaugural year, make this one a success.

I will be volunteering from 8pm to midnight. I will be taking part in as much as I can pre- and post-shift. Chess at 1am anyone?

diseased

I went in to see Dr. Gordon Trenholme, an infectious disease specialist, at Rush today. He brought in a fellow to see me as soon as he learned that I have leishmaniasis.

I recounted my story to both of them. They looked at my ugly open sore briefly. For the curious, it's gotten bigger, deeper, and developed an icky smell yesterday. The fellow examined me and took two pictures; she pulled a digicam right out of her lab coat pocket. I either have Leishmania Viannia panamensis or L.(V.) braziliensis. The latter is more likely. Since I don't have other sores on my body by this late stage, it is unlikely that I will develop others. That's good news. There is a risk that it will spread to mucousal tissue, but the doctor didn't seem too concerned. The next step is to get a skin biopsy so he can send one sample to his lab and one to the CDC. The CDC will find out which species I have and send treatment. Dr. Trenholme mentioned that the medication would be free courtesy of the CDC. Treatment for L.(V.) braziliensis is administered through an IV; the doc called it a parental. It is a 20 day treatment where I think I'll have to have the IV strapped to my arm. Side effects have shown to be severe, but the doc said that the drug is usually used to treat people who are unhealthy and malnourished. Wikipedia mentioned that there is an oral drug being tested now and the USDA has just given it orphan drug status. Maybe I'll get to be a test subject.

Dr. Trenholme and I are going to a dermatologist for a skin biopsy tomorrow; he said he needed a few things looked at too, "two birds with one stone." Testing and speciation should take about a week. Apparently, Dr. Trenholme treated a guy a couple of months ago. He claimed that it is hard to find an infectious disease doctor to treat leishmaniasis and that I was lucky to find him. I thought it was easy to find him, he and Rush are on the internet.

So anyway, prognosis seems good. It's not contagious (as long as you don't lick my ugly sore) and doesn't look like it's spreading. The doc estimated about a grand in expenses. I'm not insured, but Rush gives an automatic 50% discount to those paying out of pocket.

Several poor decisions have allowed this gross sore to get to an advanced stage. I was hoping I would heal myself and that maybe inurance would come through. I should have kept my old insurance. I should have seen someone in Peru. I should seen someone earlier while I was home. My fault completely. I was trying not to freak out about the possible consequences. Now that I've seen Dr. Trenholme and action is being taken, I feel more comforted.

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.