‎" The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn,like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."- Jack Kerouac


Coming back gets easier every time, more exciting in fact as I re-discover my old city with a new perspective. It is interesting, the patterns you get used to, the faces...the more I travel the more I seem to see the same faces everywhere I go, the more cities, bus routes, restaurants I carefully familiarize myself with for weeks, even months (just to leave) begin to blend together in the recess of my mind until all of a sudden, Lexington is a conglomeration, a city of surprising triggers to international memories, hidden antique shops, cafes and art.  


I am happy to be home, perhaps happier than ever. But there is one thing that keeps that ache, the longing to be in a strange place, speaking another language, eating new foods....coming back. It is the lack of these roman-candle people. I miss the mad people, the ones Jack Kerouac knows, the yogi-nurse-expat or the israeli backpackers. The rasta-men who would play soccer into the night, and lone backpackers who became friends in an instant. I miss meeting Americans with the same passions, getting to know people on a deeper level no matter when you would part ways or if you would ever see them again. I miss the people who you knew loved life simply by looking at them, and I miss knowing that people saw that in me. When I got back, people noticed it, that fire - the me that is 100% true to every thought, emotion, and relationship.


I am still the same person, improved slightly from more amazing experiences, but I don't feel mad anymore...I am driven, involved in about every activity I can squeeze into my 12-hour days. I don't need to be in another country to be happy, or even another state. But I need to find the roman candles of this town, the ones less concerned with bars and the newest phones, and more concerned with living, loving, giving. I have never been happier with myself than after my trip to Costa Rica - I had accomplished some big goals - I learned so much spanish, lived with my sister in a foreign country, repelled from hundred foot waterfalls with my mom, grandma and sister, WWOOFed to farms throughout the country trying things I never have, and met some amazing people to finish the trip up. 


The adventure didn't end there, and even through the craziness of this college life, I will continue to burn,burn,burn...

Day 2 Villas

Day 2

As I write this I am still recovering from my first time using the esteemed composting toilet. Could no one have warned me?! I slipslid my way up the rock paved mud path, then removed my chacos at the door and entered what appeared to be a semi normal toilet room, just made of wood, and with a barrel of sawdust next to the tp. I decided to check out where everything went and when I leaned over the pot with my headlamp I did not see a dark pit, or even soil as I expected but a huge mound of squirming, living, moving grubs right below me! Needless to say, what had to be done was, and I could not resist the urge to look again. It was quickly covered in sawdust and I stumbled back to the bunk stifling little screams as I thought about what I had just seen.


Now that i am safely back in my luxuriously draped mosquito free bunk, and still slightly sticky with river water and hair as stubbornly wet as I know my boots will be in the morning...I can relax. I think tomorrow will be a shower day as my stomach is still stamped redbrown all over due to an overly excited and muddy Chihuahua named miguel. He is 1 of 3 black and tan Chihuahuas and then there is Toby, who looks like a midget lab. We started really late today since javier was gone and made a breakfast of rice and beans and the best coffee ever, that I have been enjoying black. Lucia invited me to collect some eggs and on the way I met the resident hens, a very vocal turkey, some geese, a brama calf (I met the cows and bull on my earlier potty break) and the gas-producing hog. We weeded the sweet potato plants until noonish, interrupted by a short water break and lots of sustainable/recycling/reuse talk. Afterwards we were given a farm tour and saw the trees that are used for biodeisel, the sugarcane and its juicer, yucca, a crazy contraption that turns the pig poo into gas for the kitchen stove, this tree called picadillo palmito that they eat the marrow of and supposedly tastes like chicken?, and the path to the waterfall. After lunch it was adventure time and we all headed out to the falls. The hike was nothing less than treacherous and downhill and heavy rain did not help but it was a fun challenge and soon enough we were swimming at the base of a good sized waterfall! We swam around and after some pounding water, were on the backside of the fall looking out. After some swimming and hanging out we realized the falling water was coming a lot faster and was much muddier. We watched as the rocks we had been sitting in minutes before were swallowed by water and the creek downstream turned into a river! Needless to say, we were back dressed and hiking back quickly...on the way back creeks that had barely covered my boots were now up to our thighs and we were holding on to eachother to cross....adventure time proved itself right! For the rest of the night we all chilled/stretched/read books for a while. I started a Michael pollan one that is really interesting so far, and the dogs kept us company. For dinner, I came in to help and ended up preparing 4 batches of fried plantains, kevin made the salad with what looked like sour oranges for the dressing and everything was delicious. Now that javier is back I hear tomorrow will be an early rise and harder work so I should get to bed, 930 here is far past bed time! So far so good, and looking forward to what adventures tomorrow brings!

Attempt at a daily diary...Day 1, Villas Mastatal

Day 1


Left the hostel to meet Kevin at the park, where we then grabbed the bus to puriscal, (1.5hrs?) We were a bit nervous about putting the bags under the bus but as it was directo and K was sure to pick left side seats to keep an eye on them, we did not have any issues. We chilled in the town after some very poor food decisions including hamburgers (because they were literally out of everything else on the menu) and plastic/"candy" apples. As we were reading the directions from the farm and read the sentence 'find the bus station' I remarked how funny it is that one sentence translated to life could be so much longer...in our case we were lucky that those 4 words only = 15 min, but I thought far too long about how (too) simply said directions have cost me hours of travel time before.

Finally on the school bus to mastatal, the difference from the charter busses was made even more apparent by the sacks of rice lining the center walkway of the bus. We were the only gringos and definitely looked the part with our massive packs and yes...speaking English. Kevin has been pushing the Spanish and I keep telling myself I will too, but I am a but burnt out of not being able to fully express myself. We caught up, compared stories, goals, etc...on an already bumpy paved road but the real fun started 1-3 hours later (truly no recollection how long the ride was, just that it felt longgg) when we hit the "dirt" road that we would spend the next (eternity) on...massively bumpy and fun for the first hour we had awesome views of the mountains we were driving oh-so-close to the edge of. We hit a landslide, which based on the drivers quick scooping out and running through, was not out of the ordinary...the calle was more like a río soon, and the rain eventually led to our transmission overheating, the engine being opened and baking us for about 20 min., and eventually a sliding mud stop to the entrance of out first -very rural- farm, Villas Mastatal. Weighed down and getting damper by the second we walked up the mud-way to a little house, but not before an amazing view of the valley in the fog. We were met by a smiling tica who showed us to the bunk area were we immediately met 2 fellow volunteers -2 girls from ---. They camp is definitely rustic, to say the least but really home-y and everyone seems happy and settled in. The rest of the workers, a mash of Canadian, traveler, high school, gardener, & Texas came in time for the spaghetti dinner. Meal convos consisted of jungle book character names, near-death jungle stories ( I will be checking my boots daily for scorpion now and keep my eyes peeled for flash floods) and general introductions. I haven't used the composing toilet yet as I have not had to go #2 but is basically a tiny 3-walled outhouse that (like the rest of the living spaces) shoes don't enter, and that after wiping, there is the extra step of adding 3 cups of soil to the mix.

#1 is taken care of anywhere, tp thrown in the trash after. So far I have found a nice spot down the hill where while squatting with my headlight on, I have an up-close-and-personal view of the cows. Speaking of up-close-and-personal, although the bunkbeda have mosquito nets, an army of gnats have made themselves comfortable on my side of the net. I am typing this on my phone and as I am the only light left on at 930pm and have now mooshed about three of the lazier bugs swarming my phone (or dive bombing my face), I think I will go to sleep. Looking forward to the first day of work and reading the Michael pollan book one of the California girls lent me. Hasta mañana or as one of the guys at dinner said to our host "Hasta la noche" jajaja

¡Che, pura vida!

I regret not writing more throughout this month, but perhaps that in itself is indicative of how time flies - I had it in my head that I would write how I did in Argentina, as experiences arose, my excitement bursting to be shared with friends, family, etc...But, in the plainest language I can muster - Costa Rica is just different.

The longer I have been here, the more I have been comparing it with my experiences in Argentina (hence, the title). This I have realized, is not a good way of going about it as I have literally found no similarities besides their native language, and even that is quite different. (¡Usted vs. Vos!). So now that I know Costa Rican fruit is as good as Argentinean steak, that I do in fact like subways more than busses, and much prefer a late-night crowd than an early morning one....I am done with comparisons :)

Costa Rica.
Green Season = the tourism industries invented word to replace "winter" meaning: pleasently sunny mornings with mountain views interrupeted by torrential-zueslike-endoftheworld- afternoon showers (and occasionally hail?)
Gallo Pinto = Painted rooster (literally) aka: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. A delicious combo of beans and rice, best topped with juevos fritos and some slabs of platanos fritos
UCR = largest university in the country at 35,000 students (!!!) jungle-like campus set in the "trendy, upbeat" San Pedro....aka the most night clubs and restaurants as well as pickpockets
La Casita = Where we have classes AKA the gringo house across from Hooters, whicks backs to the famed "parque de amor" where ticos cuddle, kiss, and more outside of our windows. Rain or shine.
MLSA = cheapest program with the best host families and not much more. Almost exclusively southern students, half of which seem to be getting married (ha) and a smattering of ex-military and spanish teachers
Host Family = pure luck. Actually, a great suggestion...either way ours consistes of: Alicia Rojas (mamí) - a rough little woman with equally rough spanish and a good sense of humor, our main lady and companion in the house and can cook to boot! Papí\Franky - The old man of the house, always popping in and out. Karen/Santiago - Host brother/sister even though they have about 10 years on me....married, live in the back house and always up for a good chat/hw help. Aaron - their son and a riot. Probobaly the closest in language level at 2 years old, massively independant, and daily greetings with "la bomba" and Rihanna dance parties. Leo(nardo) - Host cousin technically, more like brother...18 years old and acustombrado a comer en su cuarto (jaja), constant raegae music coming from his room. JeanCarlos/Michael - half brothers to Leo, host cousins and fellow students. Spend most mornings with these boys and they probobaly use our phones as much as we do. Laura/Elliot - Host sister and her amigovio, visit often and source of the two minpin pups! Ryan - Lauras grown son and inandout visitor as well, quiet except for the word "mae,mae,mae" and then the montón do amigos (Cris y "moto") y familia!

Up next: Leave friday morning with our mom and grandma for a 10day adventure, then on to WWOOFing down the coast! Excited and ready -- Pura Vida!!!

Summer 2011 - The Master Plan

After an extended absence from the blog, I am back again! Fortunately, a new blog post can only mean one thing; a new adventure. It was barely over a year ago that I took the plunge into independant travel, independant of family, friends, even language. Since my study abroad experience in Argentina I have fed my travel appetite with travel all over Argentina and up the coast of Chile. More recently, I was awarded a travel grant this past winter and had the opportunity to plan and execute a trip through London, Paris and Nottingham on a generous travel Grant.

(If anyone happens to be interested in my European experiences, I have them documented on http://www.abcabroad.blogspot.com/ -- it is a bit "scholastic" as I was writing to the board who had given me the grant, but still good pics/info if you or anyone are are planning a trip :) ) 

So, one year and 4 countries later, I am ready to add another to the list - Costa Rica! I am currently writing from Boston, and if there is time will hopefully post a short something on this trip, but as I plan for my Central America adventure while still enjoying my adventure up north I am overcome with a sense of gratitude for these opportunities to travel.

The Plan (In short): This trip has been a long time coming, and it looks like the time is nearly here! On Monday, my little sister and I will be flying to Miami, where we will spend the night in the airport before our final flight to San Jose, Costa Rica. We will participate in a Language study program, and live together in the same homestay. After having studied with other students, backpacked with strangers who became friends, and cooked in hippie hostels alongside the craziest vagabonds....I am more excited to travel and study with my sister than I have been for any other adventure. One month, and 6 credits later, our mom and grandmother will be joining us to travel around for 10 days. We will be visiting some of the more famous spots like Monteverde cloud forest, Arenal, and more...and as I will have recently turned 21 I am looking forward to fruity drinks by the hot springs with all 3 generations. I am so lucky to have an adventerous family, and perhaps even more lucky that they trust me becasue when that part of the trip is over, all 3 fly home. I will then join up with a student I met in my Paris adventure over winter break, and we will pursue our passions for Biology and sustainable farming by WWOOFING down the coast (look it up!). Basically, we will be trading room and board for labor on a variety of farms from chocolate harvesting to dairy and self-composting toilet systems. And if you know me at all, you can just imagine how excited I am to be trekking through the less-discovered parts of Costa Rica, playing with livestock and food while mingling with farmers and yoga masters.

I will try to keep the blog as current as possible, and cannot wait for these adventures to start - wish me luck! And if anyone has any travel tips/experience in Costa Rica feel free to shoot me an e-mail :)

It's hard to imagine..

...that almost three months ago I was sitting on a deserted beach in northern Chile, next to a stranger who became a friend. It's hard to imagine that in the same way I walk around a southern University town, I was flagging taxi's, subways, and packed buses to go as close or as far as I wanted. It's hard to imagine that an hour and a half drive to go camping seems like a while here when just three months ago, deciding to take a 20+ hour bus ride to an unknown part of an unknown country with an unfamiliar language was commonplace. It's hard for me to imagine that for 4 complete months I lived my life in this manner while everyone lived theirs here, that while they were watching UK basketball I was holding my ears against the roar of South American soccer fans as they advanced in the world cup. That instead of walking across North Campus, I was walking past museums, zoos, and bus stations that could take me wherever I wanted for just a few dollars. That instead of looking out at a student apartment complex, I was standing on a balcony in Palermo within shouting distance of my favorite empenada shop and the laundry ladies. It's hard to imagine that instead of walking past sorority girls and fraternity boys, I was bumping into travelling street magicians, cocky portenos, gauchos, and Armenian women who would think nothing of offering me coffee on a rooftop in the early hours of the morning. That having and drinking a bottle of wine was not proof of fake ID or how messed up you could get, but a conversation starter and a source of pride. It's hard to imagine how much - and how little - has changed, but most of all how I would be different if this unimaginable trip had never happened.

Fireflies in the Garden

Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.

Robert Frost

Another reason to love summer

So, I did some experimenting tonight and had some pretty sweet results...literally. And literally the EASIEST dessert I think I've made.

So, if you have peaches or - as in my case - berries laying around and this looks like something you might like, I say give it a try. Here's the recipe I came up with after some slight modifications to others:

Summer Berry Tart crust:
- 1 1/4 cup all purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon salt ( I just thew a couple pinches in)
- 1 tablespoon granulated sugar
- 1 stick of butter

So, basically, you just chop up the butter into small-ish cubes and dump everything into a food processor (I'm sure a blender would work as well)....and pop the whole thing in the freezer while you make the berry mixture/filling

Filling: 1-2 cups of berries, or sliced peaches, or a combo. In my case, I combined a bowl full of raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries with enough flour to coat (about 2 tablespoons) and 1/4 cup sugar. Then, if you have one - zest a lemon, an orange would work well too.

So by now, your pastry stuff is pretty chilly. Take it out of the freezer, and get ready to blend - but be careful not to over mix - should never be blended for more than 15 seconds. Start pulsing, just seconds at a time until it looks like coarse meal - then slowlyyyy add ice COLD water (use 1/8-1/4 cup) until dough just begins to stick together when pinched. Form into a ball, and pop into fridge for 1 hour.

I did this before dinner so all I had to do after was form the dough into a greased tart pan - but pressing it into a cake pan and building up the sides a bit would work if you don't have one - and baked it at 400 degrees F for 25 min. until golden brown and berries are bubbly.

Serve with vanilla ice cream, and you cant go wrong.

Back to the grind

So I thought that coming home and finding a job would be one of the biggest wake up calls - turns out it is nothing compared to the ugly monster of boredom. Tomorrow, I will have been home for a month had I not already fit a week of travel to Mexico in. But the remaining 19-odd days of not working and being home are what I blame for any "reverse culture shock," the disappointment of not still being in South America, and the near "homesickness" to a place I only lived for 4 months. Now, don't get me wrong - I still miss it. But I needed a solution to those bouts of sadness that would arise when I had nothing better to do in my day but reminisce. The last thing I expected to keep me interested was a job.

But it looks like I've found my solution. Maybe it's just beginners optimism, seeing as how it was my first day, new place, different people. But nonetheless, it has some big potential. I am working at a certain bakery which happens to be in the cake and cupcake business. It stays busy, the employees are nice enough, and the customers are happy. There's even a cuban who works there that I was able to chat with a bit. And best of all - it's a bakery. This will be bakery number 3 for me, and I haven't lost my love for food - and sweet food at that - yet.

So, long story short, I'm getting back into things here. It definitely lacks the excitement of a huge city; the ease of public transportation, the laden down dog walkers, non-stop traffic, and eclectic people. But for now it fits the bill. I have a good job, I've still got a bit of summer left to enjoy, and I'm hanging out with my friends and family. I'm saving up for more travel, and soon enough - hopefully within the year - I'll be back on track for some longer-term travel. But I'm starting to understand the importance of consistency, and having a place to come back to no matter where you've been. But I guess the better question I should be asking myself is simply,

What's next?

A little bit of chicken fried

The youngest ones skip the mulling around, wondering who you are and are not related to, and by which side, how many "greats" to add before the apropriate title of aunt, uncle, or otherwise.
None of this matters to the 6-and-unders...by some gravitational pull a small herd forms upon the opening of van doors. And off they go - for the rest of the afternoon they will be a passing blur of screams, laughter, and questions.

But for the adults, the mulling about and apropriate hugs with the apropriate people become a bit more casual as soon as the appetizers and homeade alcohol appear. It would't be a family get together in E Town without Rips most recent concoction - this year its mojito mango and based on the steadily lowering mark on the mason jar, it's a keeper.

As the room fills, the personalities filter through the house. The two 20-something year olds sit in the corner by the piano sipping lemonade reminiscing about travels abroad. Their mixed conversation about spanish accents and ski conditions in the french alps is backdropped by great great aunt Norma's talk of a great neice's success in the latest miss Kentucky pageant. Next year she says, next year she will win. Just a little more work on the talent portion, and she'll be golden. Another cousin sits in the living room, stationary due to a recently - and mysteriously broken foot. The stories range from an enraged public fight, to a simple slip down the stairs but nothing is certain. A little family humor is mandatory when a casted foot is present.

As the evening slips on, burgers, brats, and charred hot dogs lose some heat waiting on the solitary vegitarians veggie burgers. A great aunt with an eye for photography - her work in photo archives and restoration as well as her travels to Tibet and beyond - provides more than the typcal small talk, but it's her jade jewelry that draws the cousins eye.

The has-been-in-progess-for-the-past-year koi pond is as big of a conversation starter and point of envy as is the neighbors new pool (heated by the graceful waterfall flowing from the raised hot tub - how intelligent!)

Conversations regarding UKs football season and the decline of USA's golf future without Tiger blend with the Zac Brown Band playing in the background. Rennie's famous pea salad dwindles. The squash casserole is almost gone too, now completely stripped of its bread crumb topping - the best part. Gani's benadictine is present to - but with the disclaimer that this particular one could never live up to the real thing when she used to make it. And of course the competing baked beans, from the light and spicy to Kim's bacon and brown sugar version.

As the afternoon draws to an end, to go plates are filled with brownies and left over potatoe salad. The loud chorus of crickets and frogs and the blinking of lightning bugs might be alarming if the family was coming from a quieter setting, but go unnoticed for now. Young cousins cry as they drive away from their "new friends" and goodbye hugs between family members that won't meet for another 6 months - till Christmas - are cut a little short by the heat and humidity of the summer night air. The collective group breaks into individual families packed tight in their vans and get ready for the journey home.

And as the country roads melt into the highway and a faded afternoon glow, a certain 20 year old sits in between 3 arguing 6 year olds, humming Chicken Fried, and can't help but think - It sure is good to be home.

Reverse Culture Shock...AKA

- getting uncomfortably close to everyone before remembering here, we don't kiss everyone
- understanding conversations. All of them.
- phones that work, and almost wishing they didn't
- toilet paper that feels like egyptian cotton...no really
- peanut butter.
- driving...and wondering why I missed it so much?
- fast internet. definitely a shock
- people you knew, and still know. Besides the million little things that have changed
- speaking spanglish, and refusing to say "bye"..chau is still acceptable right?
- trying to remember that a yellow traffic light means slow down, not speed up (technically)
- forgetting the world cup is still happening due to the lack of celebration
- adjusting to the reality that full cama, unlimited drinks, movies, and comfy sleep is not an option for cross country travel
- missing a place as if it were home while sitting in your real one...but loving that one equally
- adjusting to real people's sleep schedules
- and eating habits

I believe in a thing called LOVE

...just thumpin' to the rhythm of a heart...

no, but besides the ever-catchy song, something else has been stuck in my head lately. Something just as catchy, but a little bigger in my book. I've been talking lately, more than usual, about the "big topics." You know, gay marriage, abortion, all that. And I have some big opinions on those, but I don't need to write about them. If you want to know, let's chat. Because I'd like to know your opinions on it too.

But besides legalities, I have also been in the situation a few times to explain to strangers exactly what I believe. I feel like this one comes up a lot travelling, and it is equally out of interest as a way to categorize. It's trendy to have certain beliefs in a group travelling, and from my experiences, being a white, middle class, Christian girl from the south is not one of them. In fact, I think it might be the quickest way to be excluded from any sort of spiritual or "open-minded" conversation.

But funny thing with this question is that it is both:

1. my favorite question upon meeting a person
2. my least favorite question when meeting someone

I'll explain the first reason after, but why and when it is my least favorite:

When people want a quick answer. Think about it, when you ask what someone believes, you are asking what they base their personality, pursuit, moral code, their life on. Sure you can give the short answer, but I'm not willing to give it unless you want to know why.

When they aren't willing to listen. I understand being set in your beliefs, in knowing where you stand. But that doesn't mean you can't listen. It's quite the contrary actually - in being set in your beliefs you should be capable of listening even more actively without the fear of being swayed. And if that person does have something big enough, powerful enough to actually sway you even the - maybe listening was the best thing you ever did.

When it's asked to prove a [negative] point. This is the same as generalizing, stereotyping, name-calling.

The reasons for why it is also my favorite question are basically the opposites of the reasons above. But more than anything, it is because it's the fastest, scariest, most honest way to really get to know someone. And because the more you talk it out, the more you start to get it yourself. This one might just be me, but I find talking about my beliefs outside of the safe area of my church helps me solidify and grow in my beliefs just as much. (How boring, and easy, would it be if we believed something our entire life and never had something to compare it to?) The saying "knowledge is power" comes to mind here. It would be pretty ignorant to live for something without knowing what else is out there....because actually choosing to follow a certain path is half the battle. Dedicating your life to something shouldn't come easy; it should take some big thought.

But before getting into too many of my own beliefs (I am just as confused and mistaken as anyone else in this race for something bigger) , I want to share the basis of it all. I am a Christian. That is the path I have chosen. And the book I choose to follow, the Bible, has a lot of cool parts to it. But here's the one I'm focusing on right now: 1 Corinthians 13.

I think it's important to read the whole chapter, because we have heard it broken up into its many powerful pieces, but the pieces not so often quoted make a lot of sense too. But the main points can be very briefly stated as a.) God created love, so therefore he is love b.) we were created in love, so everyone is capable of loving c.) because we were created in the image of love, we are meant to love others in the same way. Or we could break it down even further to God = Love.

So, if you ask what I believe and you're searching for the short answer …that might just be it. Love. Because even if I don't agree with you, believe the same things, get caught up on some technicalities - some wordings, or translations, or just ideas. Even if I am stuck wondering if the book and path I have chosen to model my life on are in fact the ones i want, I am comforted with that thought. Because I can't think of anything better to live for. Because when it all comes down to it, loving my neighbor, my enemies, and myself equally doesn't sound like to bad of a thing to strive for.

I have been embarrassed of myself and of other "Christians" for our representation of what we stand for, of a lifestyle we claim in calling ourselves Christians. I have disagreed with entire church opinions. I have definitely failed at times, and gone entire periods of my life without a thought of God. But for all of these transgressions, for all of the smaller things I have had to think out,
I take comfort in knowing
that according to my book.....

Love rules.

spän-ˈtā-nē-əs

Etymology: Late Latin spontaneus, from Latin sponte of one's free will, voluntarily

1 : proceeding from natural feeling or native tendency without external constraint
2 : arising from a momentary impulse
3 : Asking a random guy in the hallway to go to Chile, and actually being there 2 days later

true story. more to come soon

Do it like the hostel livin'

In these last days, I've been racing. Mentally, I am everywhere - and physically, I feel the need to be. The urgency of leaving makes the possibilities loom overhead, the sights, smells, tastes that I haven't experienced yet and could, but only in these last 10 days.

10 days.

I want to go to Chile. But there is a lot holding me back. I keep telling myself I will come back, and I truly hope I do. Maybe I'll wait, maybe not. I'm learning the practice of last-second travel more and more as I am here.

It's hitting me, albeit slowly, that I am not only leaving the country but the people. I am leaving cranky residencia staff, breakfast with homeade yoghurt, fresh squeesed orange juice, fried eggs with chewy bread and peeled whole kiwi.

I won't be able to complain about empenada's being all there is to eat, just to fall back in love with them the minute I bite into my hot, juicy 80cent dinner. It won't be normal to stand half-way in the road, searching for the right bus then curse that I only have 5 and 10's left in centavos. When I'm late for school, I won't take any more taxi's, or sit in a sweaty packed subte. I won't be able to walk a block in any direction and be able to buy whatever fruit I want, despite the disappointing quality, or stop in a kiosko for any late night snack need you can imagine.

I won't look down when I walk as much, in search of dog poo or misplaced cement blocks. I won't have to concentrate on not smiling or laughing as men whistle, make kissing noises, or whisper things like "que ojos! que hermosa," or "linda."

I won't be confused as much, wondering what people are saying, or what the heck Claro is saying every time they send me another prmotional text. I won't be able to pick up and travel as easily as I can decide to just lay in bed, I will have responsibilites. I wont be able to look out of my balcony to see if the laundromat, empenada or corner places are open. Or to see the over-burdened dog walkers. I will probobly never see so many small fluffy white dogs in one place.

I won't be able to walk to a zoo or a museum, get candied peanuts or a great steak, have the option of a carriage ride right next to a colectivo or taxi. I won't be able to justify every purchase by cutting the price 75%. I won't be able to go to one of endless giant ferrias to buy mate, crafts, or leather. I won't be able to talk about languages, accents, and adventures with people from al corners of the world.

I will miss the people - the travelers, CEAers, fellow states people, argentines, and the residencia crew. I will miss their quirks, their always-too-fast spanish, and our talks. I will miss getting to know people from scratch again - hearing stories, experiences, and opinions. I will miss playing polo, and just hanging out at the barn. Sipping mate to be polite even when the water is burning my mouth. I will miss every person who has helped me along the way : the girl on the bus to Pilar who just happened to know english, the driver, and my stop - the law student on the bus to Bolson who kept talking to me no matter how much I wanted to sleep. I will miss the small world moments like meeting Karen and both knowing Don, or having Julians uncle pick us up at a police station in Bariloche and bring us to his "hostel" which meant living with his mother and him for a night cooking, drinking beer and mate on the side of mountain. I will miss the travels - and all the memories accumulated - north to Iguazu, south to Bariloche and El Bolson, to the beach in Mar de Plata, the vineyards in San Rafael/Mendoza. I will miss my roomie and our crazy sleeping patterns, and her boy drama. Taking pictures with Jack, and walks with Joe.

I will miss so much more that I am sure I will write about later...but the point is that it is starting to set in. I'm gonna miss it. I will miss the freedom to do what I want, when I want. But there is so much to look forward to, and it is those thoughts - of sitting on the couch with my mom, sister, and dog watching grey's anatomy, of night swimming at the Bailey's, hummus at mellow mush, chilling with Fatima and Mack, driving with the windows down and country music turned up. All of these thoughts are meshing - the things I am waiting to miss, and the one's I ahve missed but will have so soon.

So I'm gonna try and slow down this mental, physical race. I'm going to try and enjoy the last 10 days in the same way I enjoyed my night tonight. Just chilling at a hostel, getting to know a few more people while drinking armenian coffee over a trilengual conversation of spanish, english and portugese. Just talking, reflecting, and enjoying the night.

So what are my plans from here? No clue. But for now, I'm gonna let the race slow down, and try to just soak it all up....while I can.

20

So, my birthday was bomb. No other way to say it.
Here are 20 of the reasons why:

20 - playing pool and ping-pong at midnight
19 - finally going to the Japanese Botanical Gardens
18 - feeding giant Koi with little portenos
17 - eating the best sushi I have had here
16 - coming home to a decked out Feliz Cumple room
15 - getting a Muma's cupcake and muffin with candycanes
14 - finding out my roomie is sneakier and craftier than I could have imagined
13 - sweet party hats and an explosive candle
12 - having happy birthday sung in spanish and english...several times
11 - Crobar and perfectly timed facebook-adds
10 - VIP, free entrance for all 20ish of us
9 - repping the Res: Columbia, Venezuela, Argentina, Peru, and USA
8- mini fried empenadas, pumpkin with orange chicked, tomato basil sticks
7- live spanish rock band
6- more than one group bonding over ...limes? :)
5- discovering Jack learned quite a bit from cotillion
4- bonding in the bathroom with Andrea, not losing my phone, money, or coat
3- dancing the night away to reggaetone and running into more friends
2- getting home around 6 in the morning
1- turning 20 in Argentina!!!


Special thanks to Jack for distracting me, and Andrea for making it all happen! :)

Soneto XVII

Pablo Neruda was one of the main reasons I wanted to learn spanish. He was a determining factor in deciding to study in Chile. His homes and birthplace are still motivating my travel plans, and his words keep me entertained and inspired on long nights. This one was my first Neruda poem, and is still my favorite...beautiful in both languages as only the master himself is capable of.


Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.


Soneto XVII

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio
o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva
dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo
el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.

Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,

sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.

6/3/2010

Goodbye Yvette, I know you knew how much you were loved.
You were the glue, and the light of so many peoples lives. You were not a victim of cancer, you were a conqueror of it. What so many would take as a final death sentence, you took almost 10 years ago as if it were a common cold. I remember our talk about the wording, the mind-set of it all. You were, in fact living with cancer. You beat the odds more than once, and never took any credit for it. I wish I could write more eloquently about you, about it, becasue it is the least I could do. But that's just it. I didn't learn how to decorate life with frills from you, I learned how to live. And for as much as you knew, you will never know how much that has meant to me. I am more than thankful for the time we had together, for the long talks, the food, the crafts. For the distance, and the gaps between visits - we did a pretty good job. My biggest regret is that we couldn't have longer. I would have loved to grow up with you. Thank you for teaching me about life, for always believing in me, and for giving me something to aspire to. I love and miss you so much. RIP

Your neice,

Chelsey

Moments

- drinking a Brahmes in a garage-turned-dico Easter night in Bariloche with Joe from England

- Standing under the falls at Iguazu, screaming at the top of lungs only to be drowned out by the sound of the water

- 1st night at Azucar, after the nicest drinks @ Milion...learning to dance Salsa with a girl from Barcelona, an Argentinian cop and his friend "Walter"

- Dancing a traditional kerchief dance with the sweetest old woman at the Bicentenario, hundreds of people making a circle around and being the only "gringa" in a whirlwind of traditional dresses, scarves, and snapping fingers

- Making a tent in Masters for movie watching

- Spending the night in the Bariloche bus station, tent pitched and locked between the main station and the outside by the security guards with the girls and our adopted stray dog....being protected from the homeless men

- Petunias camping in Bariloche when the old man took our passports for the night, then told us to sleep "tranquila"

- Bariloche little girl getting mad we took her bottle saying "es mio puta!"

- Passing out on the beach in Mar de Plata....one of the worse sun-burns of my life

- Watching polo all day at Zarate

- Riding in mendoza, leading, then galloping with the gaucho

- 1st bus ride to pilar...Belen the girl who saved me by knowing my stop then the bus driver who made sure I got there. Meeting Val at a gas station by myself, hoping for the best (and ending up having one of the best experiences of my life @ her farm)

- CEA mendoza night - guitar,harmonica,singing "stand by me"

- playing chicken in the river misiones province only to find out there are poisonous snakes

- "weekend" 5 day trip for semana santa to Bariloche, then to El Bolson 2 hrs south with some of the coolest chicas around...camping in a 2 person tent and freezing, discovering small-world moments with Tato's hostel, seeing the most dreadlocks of my life, steph's 1st horseback riding, El Pueblito's, lots of new friends..., learning to check the dates on ourbus tickets, and sooo much more

- hearing Mauricio beat-box for the 1st time late night outside residencia

A letter

Dear Yvette,

I know we have lived, loved, laughed, and talked enough so that you know how much I love and miss you. I don’t know if you know how much I think about you and how many stories I have saved for you, knowing you are the only person in the world who will listen, and care, long enough to some of them. I went to Iguazu, some of the biggest waterfalls in the world, and I swear my camera was fixed on all the colorful butterflies more than the waterfalls because I knew you would like them, especially the purple one. Was thinking of a butterfly scrapped card set, maybe. I wore my hair in a big braid the other day, thinking of you, but was bummed that I still can’t french braid like you! And of course, every time I see freckles, or purple. But that’s a given. Then there are the German Shepherds – everyone here is in love with dogs. I was in a bookstore today in an old renovated theatre, and was looking in the poetry section at Pablo Neruda. I don’t know if you’ve heard of him, but his work is beautiful in both Spanish and English - the translations are incredible. But it didn’t have any illustrations, like Hailstones and Halibut bones. In Patagonia, there was a cute tea shop that I made a mental note to tell you about…the entire ceiling was huge bushels of dried flowers, huge blue, red, purple clouds of them and these wooden fairies everywhere. There is so much I wish I could tell you in person now, and better yet, have you here with me. I feel like our sense of adventure is so much alike, but I need someone more free spirited to tell stories with and make the most of it. Heck, I even think of you when I google Montana and try to justify picking up and living in a cabin in the mountains for the rest of my life – just because I know you’d be there to give me a few more reasons. The ferrias here are like giant crafts markets, and are open every weekend. I was very seriously contemplating the market for your knitted scarves and homemade cards. I hate not being able to visit more, and to visit sooner. But what makes it feel a little better is realizing just how much you are with me wherever I go. I have always looked up to you, and part of the fun of the adventure is in knowing you would be right here cheering it along. I have a feeling you know just how much I adore and respect you but just in case it hasn’t actually been said straight out, here it is: You are the strongest person I have ever met. The bravest woman I know. One of the smartest, most selfless, most loving, and best spirited people I know or think I will ever know. You stand up for what you believe and by holding people to higher standards make them be better people themselves. You are so beautiful inside and out, you glow. You are my hero.
I love you so much,
Chelsey

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.Isaiah 41:10

Well said little book, well said

So I found this very well-said quote in a friends eyewitness travel book, Top 10 Buenos Aires.

Portenos (locals) pay little heed to political correctness. Young and old swear with gay abandon. Despite a ban on smoking in public places, smokers are everywhere. And it is a relentlessly macho society in which women travelers can be subjected to passing comments. However, it is all invariably harmless, and best taken with a large pinch of salt."