When in Doubt, Travel

Puno

2011-11-01T16:09:00.004-04:00

October 31st - November 1st

Child safety, or really anyone's safety, is not a priority for most transport buses. It is all about maximizing the number of people you can bring for the price of one. Thus, on our bus ride to Puno, there were children everywhere! Most of them sleep on their mothers, but if there are too many, the aisle is the next best place. The woman on the opposite aisle seat from Hannah had two children, one of whom spent the majority of his time sleeping on Hannah's leg/feet and on the newspaper that was laid over a large amount of unidentified liquid in the middle of the aisle. At the bathroom stops, most of the mothers would hurry off the bus (without their children) and return with a very pungent carne/pork, rice, and bean combo in a plastic bag, from which they would all take turns picking small handfuls. Remember cringing while watching a baby or toddler eat spaghetti for the first time - smearing the tomato sauce all over the placemat before running their hands through their hair, on their shirt, and all over their face repeatedly? There is lots of that here. Also, another form of entertainment on bus rides are the salesmen, who board the bus and give a 45-minute speech about the importance of health and then only sell hard candies. Some sell tea or magic pills that “cleanse your body and rid it of toxins” (probably just laxatives), but many swear that hard candies will make you the healthiest being on your block.

We had a very rainy arrival into Puno that produced a magnificently full double-rainbow. Having traveled this far, Hannah and I have become quite proficient in the art of choosing a price and sticking with it until the other party caves. Since el centro was only 1.5km away, we decided 3 Soles (about $1) would be the appropriate fare. We walked over to some taxis nearby and began haggling – after two back-and-forths, S/3.50 seemed to be his final offer because “we had to pay S/0.50 to get into this parking lot.” So, we walked outside of the parking lot and caught a cab for S/3 to the center of town. Luck stayed with us as we found a private room with two double beds, its own bathroom, toilet paper, and towels for less than it would have cost us to stay in a hostel! The best part of the room was random space that jutted out from the main room, about the size of a toddler's race car bed, but inevitably had no purpose except to amuse us (apparently, pretty easy to do).

Once settled, we headed out to enjoy the Halloween festivities and watch all the adorable children in their ridiculous costumes. There were lots of witches, Spidermen, Disney princesses, Smurfs, and gory-masked older kids. Halloween in Puno is a very community-oriented event – kids trick-or-treat in the tiendas and businesses along the main drag of town. We treated ourselves to delicious dinner of a pepper, pumpkin, and tomato pizza, hot chocolate, and a mixed fruit salad for dessert! The best part – being on the restaurant's second floor against the balcony that overlooked the entrance, thus allowing us to watch the hordes of children that would cram into the establishment, their plastic jack-o-lanterns raised triumphantly in the air as they exited. Initially, the restaurant was not participating, but after about 30 minutes of consistent questioning by all passing trick-or-treaters, an employee finally ran out and bought some hard candies to appease the masses.

Aerial view of the masses in the entryway of the restaurant.

We headed towards their central park to observe the chaos and, after much observation, decided the winner of the “Best Vendor Capitalizing on Their Current Situation” went to those selling light up bouncy/massage-y balls and glow-in-the-dark devil's horns. Clearly, there is no rhyme or reason to most successes. However, the losing entrepreneur was quite evident – the men who hauled oversized lions and horses to the main square for children to pose with or on, and then would encourage parents to take pictures of their little ones with these “exotic animals” for a small fee. That was simply hard to watch. We were out there for about 30 minutes, and in that time, only one family decided it was worth the money to see their little flower sitting on a lion. On the walk back to our room, we saw the best outfit of the night – a mini-Michael Jackson (single white glove and all) being carried by his father.

Best tiny human costume...ever.

Apparently, Halloween is an incredibly taxing holiday...so much so, that Peruvians require a few more weekdays to recover? We discovered this the next morning, much to our chagrin. Almost all shops, except small tiendas (convenience-esque stores), were closed for this semi-unnecessary recovery “holiday.” Most importantly, that meant the Bolivian consulate was closed for the next few days, preventing us from saving $35 on their rather expensive entry tax. Visa fail! Making a split second decision at 10:58 to leave for Copacabana, Bolivia, we ran back to the “hotel”in order to check out before 11am. This is where having a travel partner is incredibly beneficial – one can pack at lightning speed while the other returns the keys and “checks out.” Being ER nurses, Hannah and I innately hope for the best but prepare for the worst. The same applies for traveling. So, when we boarded a bus of all gringos, within 2 minutes after settling in our seats, we decided the probability of our bus getting hijacked was exponentially higher than that of a bus holding mostly locals. Thus, we rearranged our important things accordingly, choosing inconspicuous hiding places for the cameras and Hannah's iPad, spreading out the money amongst our four pockets, two money belts, and four bra straps, and placing our memory cards in our security belts. We kinda feel like pros. Luckily, there was no need for that planning and the ride was quite uneventful. There was a semi-stressful border crossing due to our need to shell out $135 to enter, but the ride otherwise provided beautiful views of Lago Titicaca and the surrounding mountains.

We are finally in BOLIVIA!!! Excited to see what adventures lie ahead! Missing everyone back home!

Arequipa with Hannah

2011-10-30T22:23:00.000-04:00

October 28th - 30th

The next morning, Hannah and I were once again reunited!! After some post-overnight bus decompressing (hot beverages, conversation, and then silence while enjoying the beverages), we hit the streets to explore more of Arequipa. Fueled up on an amazing fruit, granola, and yogurt almuerzo, we explored south of Plaza de Armas local shops...aka overwhelming row after row of similar/identical merchandise, from knock-off Puma sneakers to rubber bands, Hot Wheels to plungers. Of course, I was perusing the adorable newborn outfits...all in English? I polled a few vendors, “do you have any clothing with the writing in Spanish?” “Si, claro....uhh.... actualmente, no.” “Don't you find that strange?” “Ummm...” Though I never received a definitive confirmation, from the expression on their faces, they found it strange as well. We spent the rest of the day finalizing a white water rafting trip, eating yummy (and cheap) sandwiches, and meandering. At night, we found ourselves being thoroughly entertained while people-watching in the main plaza – kids racing to and from a fountain for the prize of big hugs and kisses from Mom, a band of men dressed in Shakespearean clothing playing a slightly more civilized mariachi-style music, hippie jugglers, and, of course, a bride and groom taking post-ceremony photos.

Sunday began with a casual 'eat cereal from a water glass' kind of breakfast before we left to explore Monasterio Santa Catalina. In operation for more than 300 years before finally opening its doors to the public the 1970s, it is literally a citadel within a city. There is so much open space inside the monastery that there are even small streets with their respective names and signs. The colors were so rich and vibrant, the courtyards were immaculately maintained and bursting with flora, and the architecture seemed to change as we passed through each cloister area. Let's just say there were quite a few 10-second timer photos. A very smart bride and groom couple were capitalizing on the beautiful, brightly-colored backdrops and grabbing snapshots at every turn. We probably spent close to 4 hours exploring the compounds and eventually exited about 20 minutes prior to our scheduled pick-up for rafting. Basically, we ran to grab a quick sandwich, power-walked/jogged back to the hostel, and managed to walk through our room door just as the bell of the hostel rang, announcing out ride had arrived. I'm pretty certain we have never performed a complete change of clothes (bathing suits and all) so quickly on the trip thus far...possibly in life.

Once all rafters were collected from their respective hostels, we traveled to the main office where, while changing into appropriate rafting gear, I came face to face with my arch nemesis: the wetsuit. After a few failed attempts to produce adequate chest rise once in one, I grabbed a larger size and spent the following 10 minutes trying to get out of the first one. As you can see below, once suited up, we looked goooood!! We received a semi-scary briefing about river craziness, basic commands, and what to do when you fall out of the raft. The rapids were mostly class III with two or three class IV sections along our route. At one point, they told us to get out of the raft and swim upstream to the other side. “And why would we do that?” “Es divertido!” Alrighty...a few things: the water (even with a wetsuit on) was a few degrees above freezing, we couldn't touch the bottom, it was very difficult/nearly impossible to swim upstream in class III rapids wearing our ridiculous getup (regardless of how good a swimmer you are), so we all ended up downstream a bit grabbing on to whatever or whomever we could to stop our downward progress. The guides kept shouting “up, up, swim up” and looked quite alarmed, so eventually, they paddled over to us and hauled our bodies up and into the raft while simultaneously shouting “rapido, rapido...es muy importante!” You know, this all could have been avoided if you'd allowed us to remain in the raft...solo diciendo. My fellow rafter pulled me onto the side of the boat, and as I was resettling myself into position, he pulled me in again – feet flailing and face smearing along the bottom of the raft until forward progress was stopped by his shoe. Oooookay. We picked up a couple people who had floated quite a bit further downstream from the “swimming” bit, both of whom looked pretty shocked. All in all, we had a great time with a great team and a very knowledgeable, experienced guide, Horatio. Plus, to round out a great tour, they provided hot beverages and cookies at the end of the route. We changed behind some propped up rafts, dried off a bit before riding back, and enjoyed the great views of El Misti and the pre-Incan farming terraces of the surrounding area that the drive provided.

Traffic jam on the way to the rapids.

We call these "irresistible sexy suits."

A shot of the river we rafted!

We survived the rapids! Those are the "yay, now we can tell our parents" faces.

Our rafting team, minus the guy on the right. We really have no idea who he is.

The remainder of the evening was spent taking “hot”-ish showers (literally, a shower head that stuck out from the middle of the room itself and thus, got everything in the bathroom wet) and enjoying felafels and crepes from “El Turko.” Tomorrow, we head to Puno, our last town in Peru!

Arequipa and Colca Canyon

2011-10-28T23:08:00.000-04:00

October 23rd - 28th

Another overnight bus ride and a full album of Aretha Franklin later, I found myself in Arequipa, a flatter yet still high-altitude city lying between three very impressive volcanoes. I like this city though I don't know why - beautiful views, very intricate Spanish architecture-esque storefronts, and the amazing color each building takes on when the sun rises or sets. It could also be the many cafes full of amazing food that line every street. After walking around for a bit, I decided on a hostel for the first night and headed out to explore the town and simultaneously shop for Colca Canyon tours. Plunging 4,160 meters into the ground below, Colca is one of the deepest canyons in the world, second only to neighboring Cotahuasi Canyon. When you are in a town that serves as base camp for all adventuring in the area, there is a plethora of tour companies that run multi-day tours - most with the exact same itinerary. Though I know shopping is NOT a strength of mine, I never fully understood to what degree. Turns out, the worst imaginable degree of indecisiveness...ever. It is always fun to learn new things about yourself :) Regardless, after two days of perusing nearly ALL companies in the city limits of Arequipa, I finally selected a three-day tour of this beautiful canyon! The other decision I made was to change to a smaller hostel that was half the price - we shall see in the morning if that was a good move or not. Early to bed for the 02:30am pickup time for the canyon tour. Word to the wise: If you are arising at an ungodly hour, please, for your own sake, make sure to account for your current time zone when setting the alarm - denying yourself one full hour of needed sleep is simply unacceptable.

Literally, one of the most amazing sights of the whole trip!

Cutest pigeon-whisperer so far.

After staggering to the van and joining my fellow sleep-deprived trekkers, we were provided blankets and told to just sleep until we arrived at our first destination for breakfast. The rising sun cast a beautiful golden orange shine against the Nevada-like flatland, sporadically decorated with spire-shaped rock formations and dramatic cliff sides. Our breakfast was...interesting? Puffed Incan corn, olives, strips of squeaky cheese, and a quinoa/oatmeal drink. Yeaaahhhh. Within minutes, I found myself bonding with two Americans over similar confusion about our culinary options. Jonathan and Benji - both Vanderbilt grads, the former with a voice like Barry White and the latter looking like a cast member of "Reno 911" - became my hiking partners for the rest of the day. Following breakfast, we stopped at "Cruz del Condor," an area providing amazing 360-degree views of the canyon below and, if lucky, sightings of the Andean Condor (largest flying land birds in the Western Hemisphere). Though there were no sightings at the lookout, as we drove to the starting location of our descent into the canyon, we were surrounded by three huge condors who inspire you to attempt flying off the back of a couch, as everyone did in their younger, more agile years. As we began our 1200 meter descent into the canyon toward San Juan de Chuccho, we were immediately mesmerized by the crazy honeycomb and jail bar-like rock formations that littered the steep canyon wall. Things like this both inspire me to take geology courses and make me wish I had payed more attention in the high school version of this subject. At the bottom, while waiting for all members of the group to reconvene, we met Angus, a crazy character with a thick Lithuanian accent who we appreciated the whole trip. After a short but very steep ascent into San Juan de Chuccho and a well-deserved Snickers, we all kicked back in our respective hut-style dorms set amongst the beautifully vibrant colors of the surrounding flora. The rest of the day included stuffing our face with lunch and dinner like we had never eaten food before, watching a bee pollinate a flower for about an hour, and converse (Spanish only) with Jean Carlos (our amicable, young guide) and two other guides. Highlights: amazingly funny interaction in which my German roommates asked me first for "plaster" (Band-aid) and, after receiving nothing more than a blank stare from me, then tried "bondage" and received a light bulb "ahhh" amongst many chuckles; having an instant understanding with a trekker from another tour company and spending hours talking about religion, bucket lists, morals, family, and life in general. A long but GREAT day.

The almighty Andean Condor soaring nearby.

Trail companions Benji and Jonathan during a much-needed trail mix break.

Crazy, crazy rock formations. Seriously, HOW???

Jean Carlos, our fearless leader and guide.

In the morning, we did quite a bit of up/downing and learning about various plants and their uses before passing through the towns of Cosñirhua and Matay. In Matay, we visited a small, one-room "museum" that explained the local crops, cuisine, dress, and culture. After a steep ascent, we were given a lesson about condors and their significance to the people and the area by Jean Carlos, who definitely earned himself the "rockstar" nickname. For about ninety minutes, we descended toward Sangalle oasis, a huge, circular area of green in a seemingly bland brown/orange/gray/brown backdrop. The walk into where we were staying was very "Secret Garden"-esque - handmade stepping stones leading you between rows of beautiful flowers and blooming bushes to an open green field and our thatched roof bamboo huts! While most people headed to the pool, I "rested my eyes" in the comfiest uncomfortable fishnet hammock in that canyon. I love how hammocks seem to heighten your senses and increase your awareness of all life present in that moment. I got my cook on with Jean Carlos and conversed with the owners of the "hostel lodge" while helping to prepare dinner.

If you are sitting there and wondering, "is that raw meat and fish hanging on a clothesline," you would be absolutely correct.

The museum. All of it. Seriously.

Classic group photo - please take special note of our resident Lithuanian, Angus, stage right.

Descending towards the Oasis.

The Se...cret Gar...den (please read in a Bruce Springsteen fashion).

Now, when I was shown what this tour entailed on a flat, 2-D illustrated map in their Arequipa office, I was led to believe there was minimal physical exertion required for this trek. When describing the third day, I was told "you wake up, have breakfast, and go up to where you have lunch." That "up" she was referring to turned out to be a very steep 1100 meter ascent (at 3280 meters...aka, minimal air) to the town of Cobanaconde. The ascent was NO JOKE, required multiple breath-catching pauses, and found me gazing longingly at mules that sped past us carrying the smarter trekkers, who paid the extra $20 to ride up in semi-style (let's be real, you are still on a mule) and omit the four solid hours of extremely arduous hiking. Well played, mule riders, well played. However, reaching the top provided that instant sense of accomplishment one gets as they, through the whistling of their expiratory wheeze, gaze out as the sun rises over the second deepest canyon in the world. There is a very warm, comforting, unspoken understanding every trekker who crested the hill had with those who came before them - an awesome feeling. Worth it...100%. And it wasn't even 9am! Two more meals and lots of driving to the soundtrack of Latin hits and American '80s rock ballads ensued. Once back in Arequipa, goodbyes were exchanged with the Vanderbilt boys and Jean Carlos before a Skype with the family rounded out a pretty amazing day!

The true stars of the day...the mules.

The road back to Arequipa.

Tomorrow, Hannah joins me once again for continued craziness and fun!

The Journey to Machu Picchu

2011-10-23T01:01:00.010-04:00

October 19th - 23rd

So, there are two primary modes of transport to arrival at Aguas Calientes, the small touristy town at the base of Machu Picchu: hike up one of the three main, multi-day trail routes OR take the train from Cusco. Now, Peru is one of those awesome countries that has different prices for, well, almost everything - a train ticket for Peruvians is around $5 while a ticket for foreigners/travelers is about $100-200. While the gap in prices seems absolutely ludicrous, unfortunately, it is what it is. Since hiking and training it were out of the question for Bea and I, we elected to get there by "poor man's" means.

First step, cabbing it to the Santiago bus terminal, where we were bombarded, flagged down, and pulled in many directions by various companies' reps to their respective ticketing booths. For perspective, there were actually cops present to keep some "control" over the chaos and who blew whistles approximately every minute to remind the flagger-downers to take a breath. Then, appreciate the intelligence and preparedness of the local women who wind their way through aisles of cold, tired passengers selling bread and blankets. Bank.

Secondly, board the bus headed to Quillabamba and realize about 3 minutes into the journey that anti-nausea medicine is absolutely necessary. Fast-forward six very cold hours later and disembark at a pretty deserted "town" called Santa Maria at 01:50am. Now, wait until a cumbi (small passenger van) fills up in order to head to the neighboring town of Santa Theresa, about one hour by car. Slightly delayed due to sleep deprivation and early-stage frostbite, Bea and I were unaware that the scattered minivans throughout the darkness (that was in fact the town's main intersection) contained drivers in full recline position, thus appearing empty. Seeing this, our options were to join our fellow homeless individuals sleeping against nearby storefronts or hide out in the one-room police station. Clearly, we chose the latter and I spent the wee morning hours doing jumping jacks and eating Doritos in the back room of my second police station of the journey. The room we were in contained the a glass cabinet holding relatively empty but semi-organized binders of various reports and manuals...and the officer's ride. Classic. Eventually, after about 2 hours, we saw back lights of a van turn on - we sprinted out there only to discover that the van had miraculously been filled with individuals that can teleport? We saw NO ONE walking around during those hours except some local construction workers! Sneaky. There some people milling about near the entrance of a little convenience store - we meandered over and discovered another individual was waiting for the same thing. Unfortunately, that gentleman who was already quite intoxicated delayed the process further by purchasing a few cervezas from the store owner. Assuming the driver did not want that particular clientele, we waited another hour or so in the back seat of the cab until another person arrived who was heading to Santa Theresa.

Thirdly, take a cumbi or taxi ride along a very windy, death-defying, cliff-hugging, one-lane road to Santa Theresa. Once there, walk around like a semi-deranged person while having no idea what to do next. Get a second wind and remember where you need to go. Wait in the back seat of a cab for an hour-plus for two more people in order to depart. Finally, get a third person who initially says he will pay double his fare to compensate for the lack of a fourth passenger because he is late for work. Wait for the driver to pull over and fill all the tires with air. Ask "are you freaking kidding me?" (in Spanish) when the late worker suggests Bea and I pay two fares worth (each) so he doesn't have to pay anything.

Next, a somewhat tame 30-minute (15 if you had our driver) ride to the hydroelectric plant, where one can meet up with the train tracks.

Finally, walk along the train tracks for about 8 kilometers until you reach Aguas Calientes. This particular section of the journey is incredibly peaceful while still remaining adventurous, as you must often (and quickly) run to clear off the tracks from a rapidly-approaching train. When it rains, the experience loses some of its grandeur...unless you Bea cheers you up by creating a makeshift umbrella from huge banana leaves that have fallen alongside the tracks. Classic. The walk was made that much better by the presence of Bailey/Garbo/Pinta, a dalmation-like dog that led the way for most of the trip. His loyalty lay with us until the last kilometer, when another trekker carrying jerky passed us going the other direction. It was a sad and bittersweet moment of a crazy loss-rejection combo, but a street dog needs to do what it must to survive. Plus, jerky trumps PB+J crusts every time. The views are spectacular and, aside from the man-made wooden train tracks, the trek allows you a small glimpse into what post-Incan explorers may have felt while making their way to what would become the "holy grail" of ruins discoveries! Magical...truly.

Minimal space to pass. A "Stand by Me" moment was unintentionally reenacted.

In the spirit of saving money, upon arriving to Aguas Calientes, we continued to pound the pavement and find the most economical accommodations the town had to offer. Luckily, that turned out to be a hotel-like room that was chinche-free and had soap, toilet paper, AND towels. BAM! Minutes after dropping our bags, we headed straight for the local market and found great almuerzo deals. Skyping and perusing the overly-expensive tourist markets led us to a dinner table situated directly in front of a television playing a futbol game. If one cannot afford to eat in a restaurant with a television, you simply need to huddle in a crowd outside a window where the TV is visible (see below).

View entering Aguas Calientes, looking back towards the railway trail.

See that glow we have about us? That's what we like to call "sleep deprivation."

The following morning started quite early, as hiking up to the main entrance takes about 2 hours. The others I encountered along the trail all had similar looks on their faces - the "why is this so steep and will it ever end?" faces. Once I reached the top/entrance to Machu Picchu, I was already soaked and spent! Luckily, you can almost guarantee that there will always be people ready to capitalize on the misfortunes of others; thus, I bit the "unnecessary spending" bullet and purchased a bright green poncho, mainly to protect the camera. The weather was almost identical to that which Ashley and I experienced 4 years prior - rainy initially with a thick fog that starts clearing around the time you reach the top of Huayna Picchu (thank goodness). Walking through the maze of ancient stone is simply indescribable. Sorry. In the face of incredible beauty and mystery, life seems pretty simple. Zen is many things, but for me that morning, zen = sitting on an ancient ruin wall, watching fog dance around the grey stones of the former Incan city to the soundtrack of Trevor Hall and the Civil Wars, and sharing the moment with my sister via her novel I brought with me. Hours of meandering and contemplating how in the world the Incans managed to build such a beautifully strong city followed.

Eventually, while waiting in line to start hiking Huayna Picchu, I saw Hannah and her gang round the corner. They were definitely fatigued, but still happy, smiling, and up for their last hiking challenge. Though the series of steep switchbacks that continue for about 50 minutes without letup leaves one questioning their sanity, the views at the first clearing are (literally) breath-taking. The views allow you to see how precariously the city structures rest on the "Old Peak," as steep drop-offs to the river below flank Machu Picchu. Also, the switchback roads leading to the entrance from Aguas are also visible, which gave me a sense of accomplishment having ascended them earlier that morning. Though looking out onto Machu Picchu elicits many feelings, appreciation and happiness took the forefront. I was very proud of Hannah and her friends for completing the difficult journey. Personally, I was also very honored and happy to be present as Hannah experienced it - you could almost see the calm that overtook her as the "it is all worth it" moment came. It is just one of those moments when you realize how small and how human we are, yet how much a group of us can accomplish. Thank you Machu Picchu - you have once again simplified the chaos of life and highlighted that which is most important.

Obviously, our mandatory jumping photo!

Pretty much amazing.

After saying goodbye to Bea (gosh I am going to miss that girl), the journey of reflection continued on my two-hour walk along the tracks back to the hydroelectric plant. Luckily, after a three-hour wait, I was able to hitch a ride with a group of students back to Cusco. The following day was very relaxed and involved little more than journaling and Skyping, as the driver's fast and erratic behavior led to a night of upchuck reflexes (I mean, the man had a knob on the steering wheel so he could turn the vehicle at higher speeds). In the evening, the crew came over to Samay Wasi and we caught up on the last few days. The next day, we all had one last lunch in the plaza, overlooking a parade-like celebration for the patron saint of Cusco. After seeing Shaden off, we went exploring the "real" market Bea had shown me and found quail eggs! Yesssss! John became quite the fan. Janelle, Leah, Hannah, and I did some price-haggling for some beautiful scarves - Leah emerged "Bargain Queen" title, as she somehow got a very stern woman to come down to her proposed price. Hannah and I were both impressed and proud. Finally, it was time for my bus to Arequipa, so like any normal person would be, I was sent off hugs, safe travel wishes, and a choreographed "river" song and dance by John and Scott :) Love it!

The great debate :)

Goodbye Machu Picchu - you continually amaze!

Cusco, Peru

2011-10-19T19:45:00.000-04:00

October 14th - 19th

The way to Cusco is via a beautifully windy road that passes many pueblitos throughout the rolling mountains of the region. As we crested the switchback heading into Cusco as the sun was rising, my heart was happy! I have only amazing memories coming into this town again. We all crammed into a taxi, checked into what would become a base camp home, "Samay Wasi," and decompressed our way - hot beverages and animal crackers. There also may have been a game of baseball using grape-like berries and a large fallen branch found in the courtyard. Setting out to explore, the familiarity rushed back with each street we walked down, even though my memory has more holes than a cheese grater...I think. Had lunch at a small place near Plaza San Francisco - how are all the "veggie" sandwiches that only have cheese and MAYBE other ingredients on them always more expensive than burgers and meat dishes? Silliness! We climbed up the steep alley streets to a church on the side of a mountainside that provided beautiful views of the entire city! It's pretty difficult to breathe here as well, so anytime I say "climbed" or "ascended" or even just "walked," it was done slowly and with great effort. A fruit & granola dinner along with an amazing night of Skypeage rounded out the evening.

These stairs are no joke! And at 3400 meters, you feel every single one of them!

Saturday morning consisted of running errands down the main drag out of town, Avenida del Sol, passing a large church and Qorikancha (the Sun Temple) on the way to the post office. I also stumbled upon a legitimate basketball court being used for an all-day tournament of recreational teams - men's, women's, and co-ed teams, most of which had players over the age of forty-five. Definitely entertaining! When I returned, Hannah was a ball of anxious excitement in anticipation of her friends' arrival. To distract her, we watched some locals playing volleyball at a nearby school...that lasted about 10 minutes before we headed back to await their arrival. Hannah didn't have to wait too long because as we rounded the corner from the connecting alleyway, her friends were piling out of the transport van. Lots of hugs and happy smiles were exchanged before we eventually moved all their stuff to our hostel down the road (apparently, there are two Samay Wasi hostels). Hannah was just beaming with excited, happiness, and contentment. As one does when they fly into a town at 928745987245987254987254 meters, they were soon kicking back and sipping on cups on coca tea.

This is a pose Scott repeats often in group pictures.

After relaxing a bit, we walked the streets as a posse, stopping to watch some of the basketball game. I am definitely in no position to determine one's skill level, however, it resembled what we saw in Panama City...or what one might see at a tournament for a league of 8-9-year-olds. Quickly getting them caught up with our way of life, we had ice cream cones in their hands within 4 hours after their arrival! Awww yeeeaaahhh! The group headed to SAS, the tour company running their Inca Trail Hike, to confirm a few fine details. The office visit soon turned chaotic and hypertension-inducing when they told the group that Scott and John had called three days prior to cancel the tour. Since there is NO WAY that could have happened, instant concern followed regarding the reliability of all the other bookings. That concern was only heightened when they handed me my Huayna Picchu ticket and confirmation, which indicated that I was Andre Leighe, male, and born in a different month than what I've known to be true my whole life. "So, isn't this going to be a problem when I get to the top of Machu Picchu and they do not let me in because this information is incorrect." "No, it's ok. They only look at the name and the passport number." "Right, so two of my three names are wrong." "Yes, not a probl.....ohh, I see. Well, that should be ok, I think." Oh gosh - high blood pressure in that office. Eventually, we left to eat at Aldea Yanapay, a restaurant and social project that Ashley and I had eaten at four years prior. The rest of the evening was spent relaxing, decompressing, and catching up.

Unfortunately, during the night, one of Hannah's friends got sick from the altitude. So, I got to be a nurse again... well, more like a doctor's office nurse that doesn't do much - the day consisted mainly of journaling with brief intermissions to check for chest rise after I gave her some Phenergan. On the blogging and Skype front, it was an extremely productive day. The lovely woman who ran the hostel suggested I buy her Sorojche pills; research revealed that it was basically Excedrin and comprised of acetaminophen, aspirin, and caffeine. Hmm, not helpful. Good ole Zofran and Phenergan did the trick. When the gang returned in the evening, Janelle had a bit more color and energy. Someone in the group asked her, "do you think you could eat some noodles?" "I could poke at them." Ten minutes later, all that remained was the empty bowl. Strong work, Janelle, strong work! They then had a round table-like discussion of the day and reminiscing about past adventures, which you can tell is something Hannah loves the most.

The next morning, Leah, Hannah and myself walked up the steep streets, past the church to large statue of Jesus that sat atop the mountain and overlooked all of Cusco. I led us astray on a series of small, thin switchbacks that, although they eventually did bring us to His feet, did so with much more risk than necessary. Schwoops...sorry ladies. Once at the top, we met up with John and Scott, who like smart people, cabbed it up there. As we started taking photos of this 30-ft white statue of Jesus, a circular rainbow formed above His head, almost like a colorful halo. Regardless of one's beliefs, that was a pretty unique and thought-provoking moment. We all admired that and the view that stretched over many miles for a while before heading back down to the church. On the neighboring mountaintop laid the ruins of "Saqsaywaman," pronounced "sexy woman" in a Forrest Gump accent. After watching two llamas wrestle each other (no joke, true wrestling technique) and admiring the ruins from a distance, we began descending. The ruins cost quite a bit of money to enter, but being the super-tourist Scott is, he had to at least make an attempt to see them up close. The four of us made it to the church and began snapping a series of silly jumping pictures. Before long, Scott came around the corner and admitted that, while attempting to enter the ruins from a smaller staircase on the side, he got caught. A for effort! The entire group reconvened at the Chocolate Museum, which I still find extremely interesting - each time I visit chocolate museums I learn a fun new fact, like 'the Chinese consume one chocolate bar for every 2000 that the English do.' We then moved on to a cafe that overlooked the main plaza and people-watched while sipping on our respect hot beverages. Ashley and I sat at the same table - same order, different music! After breaking off the run more errands, we met back up for dinner at a lovely little restaurant on the corner of Plaza San Blas called 'Andina.' Afterwards, we headed back to the hostel and the gang began their packing preparations for the hike. My main contribution was handing out dime bags of ibuprofen, Tylenol, and Zofran to the crew...as you do. Best wishes were exchanged, and in true rock star form, Hannah and I casually told each other "see you on Machu Picchu." :)

Hannah and Leah striking true "Saqsaywaman" poses.

Being the, let's say, "frugal" people we are, Bea and I move to a cheaper hostel a few blocks and one steep, arduous, slippery stone staircase away. Beautiful view but we quickly realized the extra soles were completely worth it stay in Samay Wasi once receiving very bipolar-esque treatment from the staff. You live and you learn...plus the mental image of Bea waiting, hands on hips, with her humungous roll-along suitcase PACKED with various clothing and accessories at the bottom of each staircase we came to; not skipping a beat to take a passing gentleman's offer to carry her bag up the stairs; watching that man struggle immensely with the bag and then abandon the plan once at the top (this happened twice); and the combination of seeing and hearing that suitcase roll/bounce over the huge, uneven cobblestone streets in between staircases = PRICELESS! To relax from that ordeal, we watched the original "The Karate Kid" on a TV sitting next to the door that overlooked the treacherous stairway that actually continued further up. We momentarily forgot where we were - at one of the most climactic parts of the film, when Daniel-san realizes he was learning karate the whole time as he is defending Miyagi's attacks, two llamas passed by the open door while slowly ascending the stairs outside. A pretty classic snap back into reality!

The afternoon brought a stroll through the "real"/local market just outside of Cusco's super-touristy areas. I love the hustle and bustle of markets, but this one was particularly crazy. There were models waiting by the southern market entrance for their turn with a photographer that was busy taking shots of one pretending to smell a display of carnations from the flower vendor. At some point, when Bea was sipping on her room-temp yogurt drink, we literally witnessed the most accurate Jesus look-alike we'd ever seen run through the crowd looking to buy something. We passed a medicine woman flanked by reused water bottles (props to that) full of unidentifiable liquids - snake juice, poo water, and maggot broth. That began the lightheaded sensation. Having not eaten, I nearly passed out when the aroma of unrefrigerated meat hit me the second I'd turned to see a stall with a bowl of pig's heads and a tri-fecta of cow tongues, intestines, and testicles hanging from a rusty bar = a combination of stimuli almost guaranteed to knock anyone on their syncopal butt. For recovery, we headed to an actual grocery store where I treated myself to a box of very expensive but incredibly necessary Trix. The Cocoa Museum and Andina for a second time rounded out the evening. In the morning, I hauled all of my stuff back to Samay Wasi - a tiring but, aside from a few locals stopping to debate whether I was homeless, uneventful feat. Though a plan to rendevouz later on in the afternoon failed in stellar fashion (I waited for 45 minutes outside the McD's while Bea waited that same time inside), we developed a fool-proof plan to meet later that evening to begin our journey to Machu Picchu!

Models waiting for Bea to stop smelling the flowers :) Believe, locals in Cusco do NOT wear shoes like that.

Literally watched this former-chicken slip from the woman's grip, fall to the floor, be picked up and stabilized atop a dusty bin lid, slide off the top, be pinned against the side of the bin by the woman's knee, re-stabilized atop the lid, and then handed to another woman to be prepared for the market's almuerzo! Truth.

Piura and Lima, Peru

2011-10-14T14:09:00.000-04:00

October 9th - 14th

From Cuenca, we took a bus a bus to a small town called Luja, where we killed time for three hours by eating bad food and playing three games of Bananagrams! The bus we took from Luja took us across the border of Peru and into Piura, the capital city of the northwest region of the same name. Piura involved lots of walking on dusty roads, FINALLY finding and eating lots of quail eggs, and booking a bus ticket to Lima. We arrived in front of the bus company's office, so after purchasing tickets to Lima from a bus line called "Ittsa," we took a tuk-tuk ride down the way a bit to transfer our luggage to Ittsa's storage area. The tuk-tuk was hailed from the side of a 3-4 lane road full of various vehicles honking frequently and weaving freely, so in order to pick us up, traffic in the right lane stopped. Now, like a Three Stooges skit, we quickly loaded what bags could fit on the back license plate-sized open area and then tried to squeeze the three of us, a rucksack, and all the smaller bags into a space that, on a good day, seats two semi-comfortably. Oh gosh...drawing attention just by being our ridiculous selves. I'm pretty certain even the driver was shaking his head, as he darted in and out of semi-parked vehicles and tight spaces that allowed us to touch the vehicles on either side of us. That started a game that has continued throughout Peru and Bolivia...as spaces get tighter, we find it amusing to simply reach our hands out while standing on the "sidewalks" and touch the passing vehicles - "touched it" Hannah usually says in a casually triumphant manner! Makes me smile every time. We managed to store our bags and head to the main shopping center, which had a STARBUCKS! Whaaaaaaaat? The first on our journey! We relaxed there for quite some time and decided to kill even more time by watching "Midnight in Paris" at the theatre four doors down...mainly because we could and the cost was less than we paid for our S*Bucks drinks - some things don't change regardless of what country you are in at the moment.

Justin and Hannah...a true power couple.

Once it was finally time to return back to Ittsa, we hopped on another tuk-tuk (fitting more comfortably without the huge backpacks) whose engine died every time the driver came to a stop. Nary a dull moment here! As we boarded Ittsa bus, we knew things would be different - they gave us luggage tags, they actually checked our IDs against the tickets, and there was a STEWARDESS person standing there and greeting us as we boarded! WHAAAAAAT! High-rollin', that's what! We nearly squealed with excitement as we took our seats, that is after we took our complimentary blankets and pillows off of them! The seats were like individual La-Z-Boys, leg supporters and all! Not only that, but we got served legitimate MEALS on the bus in between the frequent offerings of various beverages! We felt like ROCKSTARS! This was first class, even for normal people's standards. AND there was a bathroom! ON THE BUS! Thus, the catchphrase from that point on was "Ittsa-mazing!!" Also, they called their driver a pilot. Who does that? Rockstars.

Upon arriving to Lima and after Ittsa called security because we refused to get out of the comfy seats, we hopped into a taxi with a driver who, like many, pretended to know where the hostel was just to get the fare. Luckily, he had some stellar backing upskills, so when we got in the right barrio, he was able to practice those on the many one-way streets of the Miraflores area. We checked into a very small, family-run hostel and hit the streets. Walking around brought back a little nostalgia and deja from four years ago when I walked the same area with the one and only Ashley C! The walking continued until the Chile vs Peru game came on...and then everything sort of stopped. We decided to really get the real futbol experience and watch the game with locals in...a Chinese restaurant! What goes better with futbol than jasmine tea? The noises that people made were insane - I honestly thought one man had an aneurysm or was on the verge of a heart attack...clutching his left chest while completely diaphoretic, moaning. Apparently, the poor plays of the Peru team was a shot straight to his heart. Wingmen of buses that passed the restaurant would hop off while the bus slowed to a crawl, run in, look up at a TV, get the score and hop back on to update all passengers. They take their futbol seriously, folks! We stopped at a grocery store on the way back to the hostel and, in honor of our longing for fall-related activities, went "apple-picking" and pumpkin-selecting from the shelves in the produce aisle. Dinner and am Em-Em Skype session rounded out the evening.

The next morning was spent being true tourists and checking out downtown Lima! It is an odd sensation to feel that you somewhat know a place but still cannot give directions. However, once we stumbled into Plaza de Armas, familiarities rushed back! It is so beautiful! I'm not sure who keeps the gardens in Plaza de Armas so pristine, but they do a phenomenal job! Hannah and I took some obligatory jumping pictures before being distracted by the group of policemen casually walking through the plaza decked out in full raid gear, shields and all. They set up shop on a corner parallel to the Congressional building, so naturally, we slowly meandered that direction for a great picture. These tough cops had the best senses of humor about themselves - so they waved us over to join in for the picture. So, Hannah and I each take our semi-awkward individual shots amongst the group until we are shown how it should be done by Bea, who strolls up there exchanges some words and somehow ends up with a shield and baton! Classic! We continued walking behind the plaza past the tanks they had on standby (for whatever reason - war, intimidation, the parade the were having that weekend, or for a really unique "Just Married" vehicle for engaged soldiers ready to tie the knot) onto, where else, a panaderia. Lunch and snacking goodies were purchased/consumed - we thought they were pretty tasty, but we were assured they were not by the four stray dogs who rejected the handouts. Sad.

The next stop on list was an unnecessarily long visit to the post office. I had a letter and pair of baby gloves I planned on sending to my friend, which turned out to be quite an ordeal! First, I was told to open the sealed envelope I had so she could see the contents. After doing that, she the admired the gloves, rubbed them, put her finger in them (the gloves are too small to accommodate anything more), and then spoke about needing a pair EXACTLY like them to give her granddaughter - ummm, ok, but there is NO way you are getting those, so please set them down now! Then, I had to buy a different envelope, readdress it, and return to the line...only to find out that line didn't sell stamps. Fast forward 20 minutes, three lines and four windows later, and the gloves were finally sent!

We continued journeying through the city, admiring the similar but more ornate Spanish colonial architecture and churches on every other block - they have churches in these cities like NYC has Starbucks. We ran into a few peaceful protests and rights marches as we made our way through each major park and plaza. Near Plaza San Martin, we stumbled upon and amazing used book store - and by used, I mean books from the 1880s-1920s! It was pretty amazing to flip through an Almanac from 1918...needless to say, much time was spent in there! At some point, we sprinted across the six-lane highway to get to a walkway of statues in the median. Crossing streets here has become quite the game - a successful cross involves sprinting and dodging while NOT getting honked at during your spasticness! We each took turns, and struggled impressively, climbing to the top tier of a dry fountain - the difficulties ascending made the "Atlas"-like pictures atop seem pretty silly. The buses back to Miraflores seemed to stop in the most confusing area of town - a corner overlooking the merging between three 4-5-lane highways and an eight-lane traffic circle. Somehow, we managed to spot one and jumped on without hesitation! It was on this bus that our beliefs about gum and hard candies being the hardest thing to sell were shattered - in eight countries, we have not seen anyone successfully sell gum. However, a woman got on speaking about magical gum that has pockets of gooey flavor in the middle and, two seconds after Hannah and I looked at each other in a "good luck lady" kind of way, the wingman bought a few, followed by two older women in the front, and then about five more people purchased the magical chicle! Unreal!

Hannah and I walked around in Miraflores for the remainder of the evening. We stumbled upon an outdoor market in a small park that Ashley and I had gone to back in the day where vendors sold collections of RANDOMNESS. Most were antiques: old coins, irons, decks of cards, lampshades, cameras, pins, postcards (used), cuff links, letter openers, you name it! All in all, a great day! The next day and night were spent on Cruz del Sur...now, Ittsa-mazing was exactly that. However, we have never experienced such executive travel in our LIVES! The seats were huge and reclined almost 160-degrees, the meals were actually good (there was a legitimate vegetarian option... whaaaaat?) the bathroom actually had toilet paper, we were given soft blankets and pillows, the temperature was not arctic in any way, and it had Wifi! We made lots of jokes about that - Hannah would ask frequently if I needed to check my mail, "you know, because you can!" Or, for example, if a thought came to mind about the area, how to say a word in Spanish, or anything else..."well, let's just look that up, on the Internet, while we sit on this comfortable bus, that is taking us to Cusco!" So, while we endure this extremely comfortable 18-hour journey, we shall catch up again in Cusco!

That is what we call the "aaahhhh yeeeeeaaaahhhh" face. Wifi on a bus!

Baños and Cuenca

2011-10-09T21:38:00.000-04:00

October 5th - 9th

After the craziness of Latacunga and the Loop, we bussed it down to Baños, a town known for its many spas and thermal waters, and not so much for its amazing bathrooms, as its name might indicate.

The bus trip to Baños from Latacunga was a bit testing. It started out with Bea laying some knowledge on our taxi driver, who was extremely persistent to learn how much we made and spent in a week. He became silent when we told him we spend, on average, a good $10 less per day than what he did. We were dropped off at a bus stop and told by the taxi driver and the bus's wingman that it was in fact a direct bus to Baños. Not only was it not direct, it didn't even GO there...we had to change buses at another stop. When the dishonest wingman finally admitted it want the right bus, I may or may have said a few curse words in Spanish. There were quite a few "oooooooooh"s, similar to what you hear in elementary school when someone pops their bag of milk in the cafeteria, from the other passengers. Once we finally reached Baños, we lucked out and found a great hostel. Immediately, we dropped our bags in our PRIVATE room and headed out for the markets. The remainder of the day revolved around food - outdoor fruit and veggie market, tienda, panaderia, supermarket, back to tienda, back to panaderia, specialty store for peanut butter, and finally, back to the hostel to prepare it all. The rest of the day was spent recovering, relaxing, and reading...until Bea suggested we do a 20-minute P-90X Yoga workout. Intrigued but having never really done yoga before, we consented and took our namaste stances. I once attended a "relaxation yoga" class that involved lots of pillows and nap-inducing "poses." This was nothing like that. There were lots of twisty-pretzel poses with transitions involving slow push-ups and occasionally with the use of only one arm...yea, not okay. We truly did try, but after about 12 minutes, we maintained the upwards-facing dog pose for minutes at a time and watched Bea's ex-marine self in admiration and disbelief. After that craziness, Hannah and I selected an activity that exercised the brain...Bananagrams! The best word used that night was definitely "wanks," compliments of the one and only Bea.

In the morning, we headed down to the main square to rent bikes for the day! After finding some great mountain bikes with good shocks and all the protective equipment one could desire, we pedaled away to explored the grassy mountains of the area. The beginning of our ride consisted of coasting, admiring the beautiful scenery and many waterfalls, and NOT getting hit by cars. Bike-riding in general is very cathartic and relaxing...especially when you are just cruising along. However, pedaling up mountain roads at 2000+ meters is quite tiring and breath-taking for the wrong reasons. I was breathing so quickly at the top of the hill it almost sounded like laughter. At one point, we locked the bikes up and headed down to the base of a waterfall, only to realize we weren't willing to spend the money to pay an entrance fee to see it, especially since we had already passed six or seven beautiful falls. Classic!

We continued on for 60km, passing small roadside towns, dramatic valleys, winding rivers, rolling mountains, and green pastures, stopping occasionally to take a picture or breathe. There was also a pitstop made in a small town in order to refuel with some ice cream and riverside views. One particular roadside town called Mera that had quite a it of character - parents walking their kids home from school, antique home fronts, and obvious sense of community. Unfortunately, it was also home to many dogs, one of whom chased after Bea as she passed while another ran in font of her tire, causing her to all off. She had a pretty decent abrasion on her knee, but like a rockstar, she carried on for the remaining 12 kilometers. Fatigue, back and leg spasms, and desire to just breathe at a regular rate made the last stretch seem longer than it was...but we DID it! As soon as we started seeing signs indicating we had reached our destination town of Puyo, we immediately hopped off our bikes, walked them across the street and caught the second bus that approached us back to Baños. During the hour-plus bus ride, the sense of accomplishment set in and I was able to appreciate the entire experience.

We started the recovery process with a phenomenal veggie sandwiches I've ever tasted from "Blah Blah Cafe," a small but very expressive cafe with three tables and one very talented owner/waitress/chef. when we passed by the panaderia, the owner saw Bea's knee and said, "I even told you there to be careful when you left my store yesterday!" It's true, he did! The rest of the evening was spent doing our respective quiet activities and reflecting on the day. The best mental image of that journey: stopping to breathe/take in the scenery while each one of us bobbed our heads to our different tunes.

We caught an hauntingly beautiful sunset over the dramatic mountains and rolling farmlands on our bus ride to Cuenca the following day. At one point, we rode through a cloud forest that only allowed a few thin rays of bright orange to penetrate it's thick fog. We stumbled upon a decent hostel, again with a private room (starting to feel spoiled), and immediately headed out to find food. Though the first two recommendations from our hostel owner fell through, we found a Mediterranean and Middle Eastern restaurant that had HUMMUS! Apparently, hummus is one of the things Hannah and I crave the most on this trip, as evidenced by the small, celebratory dance parties that occur each time we find it.

The next morning was spent semi-participating in (but mostly observing) Bea's marine "burpees," squats, and run exercises. Halfway through, we realized there was a couple trying to enjoy their breakfast 10 feet away while we were sweating profusely and making all sorts of crazy gym noises. During the rest of the day, we simply walked around and explored the town. Unfortunately, everything seemed to shut down for the two days we happened to be there, which definitely inhibited our ability to get a true feel for the community. The buildings themselves provided quite a bit of character and we did stumble upon a few food markets, so not all was lost. Let's just say, there was lots of relaxing at coffee shops and eateries :) Hannah and I are kinda amazing at that! In the evening of our second day in Cuenca, our two-part bus trip across the border to Peru began!

Ecuador...you are a rock star of the southern hemisphere, my friend. Thanks for the memories!

Latacunga and the Quilatoa Loop

2011-10-05T15:42:00.000-04:00

September 30th - October 5th

Base camp for plotting our Quilatoa Loop strategy became Latacunga, the capita city of the Cotopaxi region. The city was just big enough where we could find things we needed, but small enough to feel its intimate charm. We spent the majority of our time in Hostal Tiana, an amazingly comfortable hostel atmosphere with free tea, coffee, movies, and internet all day long!

Cute kids in the plaza...a version of kindergarden ROTC?

The cemetery in Latacunga.

We did get out for the evening to enjoy the "Mama Negra Festival," a huge party to celebrate the induction of Latacunga's current mayor into a collection of cultural institutions called Mama Negra. First of all, the party was pretty darn big considering the size of the city - five bands, bleachers for the public, fireworks, marching bands, things lit on fire, free food sampling, confetti, balloons, and the "Ms. Latcunga"s from the current and past years! The speaker was even more enthusiastic than most futbol announcers! However, whether it's Ecuadorians in general or just the people of Latacunga, the citizens just SAT there in their seats, not dancing or clapping when the announcer listed all of the inductee's/mayor's accomplishments in the community and for THEM! We clapped it up, hooted and hollered only to become the center of attention for those that could hear us - they stared at us as if we'd just dropped the f-bomb while having tea with the Queen of England or something. The normal awkward silence followed each time, but we kept cheering because the accomplishments were very noteworthy and no one else seemed to appreciate them - plus, the mayor and his family are standing in front of EVERYONE, listening to all of his accomplishments being read out and having no one acknowledge them! Not cool! After some long speeches, odd traditions, and dodging the fire-propelled mini-blimp that would occasionally fall into a scared crowd (can we just say bad idea?), the upbeat salsa and cumbia music began. Once again, we found ourselves being the only ones dancing...Bea was especially hysterical as she tried to engage older men around us to join the fun. People were pointing and laughing, until we found what seemed to be the only other group of people dancing, a collection of 8 students from the local college. We tore it up and managed at one point to start a dancing circle and conga line! Even David, the young and shy worker from the hostel that we had dragged with us, started getting into it. This continued for three hours...and we definitely felt it the next morning!

Saturday was a "get our stuff together" day before we headed out Sunday morning for Laguna Quilatoa, a beautiful volcanic crater lake lying amongst various peaks throughout the area. The lake's trail that travels along the circular ridge line also connects other smaller, less-traveled pathways with the tiny highland villages. The view was magnificent - pretty hard to go wrong with a dark lake against a mountain backdrop. After using about half of the battery life of our cameras taking pictures at the top, we finally continued walking. In theory, the town of Chugchilan, our hostal destination, is a relatively straight, 14km shot north of the lake...that is, IF you take the correct side path. Of course, we did not. The three of us stood at a crossroads of paths before we chose one and began switchbacking down one of the mountain's steep spines, through a collection of trees, and to the end of a precipice (aka sheer drop off). Feeling slightly frustrated about having lost about 1 hour of hiking time, we about-faced and started climbing back up. As we did, I spotted a path that shot off towards another mountain - not wanting to hike back all the way back up to make another incorrect path choice, I started down it to explore while the girls waited for a verdict. A machete would have been a very improtant accessory for this particular path, as I spent a good amount of time awkwardly squeezing between various bushes, shrubs, and other fauna. The path did indeed lead down our mountain and appeared to connect to what we believed to be the "actual" path visible on the neighboring mountainside. There was, unfortunately, a ravine into which the path disappeared that revealed very little (at least from where I was standing) as to its depth or terrain. I shouted back that there was a 72% chance we could get through. We soon learned that with three stubborn ladies, one being a persistent ex-Marine, 72% will become 100%!

Look at all of the path choices!

This is the one we chose...

...and this is where it led us - nowhere!

So here we go, crawling down the side of the mountain through thick brush and battling mora bushes - blackberries exploded all over our clothes and backpacks as we moved awkwardly to a soundtrack of "ooh"s, "eeh"s, "oh gosh"s (from Hannah), and "#$%!"s (from Bea and I). Eventually, we passed through the ravine and reached the other mountain. The three of us cheered and celebrated...prematurely, as we discoved in the next 10 minutes. As it turned out, the path I had spotted on the mountain we were now on was across another more dramatic ravine I'd not seen. So, being our stubborn selves, we began ascending the 75-80 degree incline of the mountainside, grabbing onto anything and everything with roots that may hold us. There may or may not have been some praying going on as we climbed ladder-style (using all parts of our body) up about 600 feet for about 45 minutes. As we crested the top, we saw cows and knew we were safe!! Our logic = the cows are tied up, someone had to put these cows here, so that means people had to walk here, and if we just cliffhangered that mountainside, surely we can walk on "mildly" steep terrain to maybe a house where someone might be able to point us in the right direction. Thankfully, our logic was accurate and a local indigenous woman ensured us we were NOW on the right path!!! We continued on after a much-needed break for the body and mind after that ridiculous episode. The next 3-4 hours involved going up and down....and up, and down, and up, and down...through countryside, pueblitos, canyons, creeks, and herds of sheep, cows, and mules.

Descending...steeply!

The trees were where we took the incorrect route...this is what we descended.

This is Hannah...straight above me as we took a break from grabbing roots.

Thankful we are alive!

Rewarding view from the top!

When we could finally feel how close we were to Chugchilan, we ascended a short, steep dirt path and found an indigenous family looking very concerned and toward the direction of a girl lying unresponsive on the grass. Hannah and I immediately checked our ABCs (airway, breathing, and circulation) before going through the rest of the trauma alphabet. We got some basic information about Blanca from the family - apparently she has had five similar episodes in the past, one while in the hospital, and no doctor has been able to identify the cause - I can only imagine how frustrating that is from a parent's standpoint...a frustration the brother obviously felt as he responded to our questions in an exasperated, near-yell manner. Luckily, Bea was there to translate that we were just trying to help and obviously had knowledge of her medical history. Armed with about 500ml of water and hard candies, there really wasn't much we could do except monitor her until she became responsive, which she did within about 10 minutes - enough time for 4 or 5 other indigenous families to run over and join the crowd. We assumed it was a hypotensive-related issue after speaking with the family and ruling out other possible causes. Regardless, after giving her more water to drink, she began feeling better. Obviously, we discouraged them from taking her on the hike back from where we had just come! They were very thankful at the end, every single person shaking our hands before departing...even the non-family members! We finally reached our hostel well after dark and nearly collapsed from that happiness that overcame us! The lady that came outside and asked if we needed a place to stay got a hug that instant! There was a set dinner for all the guests that took place around a large, rectangular table that we shared with a German couple and an Australian woman. We inhaled that food so quickly, they probably thought we hadn't eaten for days! After a nice conversation with them and an attempt to give "what not to do" directions to the Australian who was making that same trek, reverse direction the next day, we fell onto our beds and crashed!

Amazing view from the hostal in Chugchilan.

The three of us awoke feeling as if we'd been hit by a truck and moving slower than the geriatrics of the town. Thankfully, the beginning of the second day's 14km, northwest hike was relatively flat and allowed our joints to warm up slowly. We acquired a fourth hiking partner for this leg of the journey from Chugchilan to Isinlivi - Percy, a mutt whom we named after recognizing his persistence to remain alongside us the whole way! Thankfully, we had PERFECT weather, blue skies, and clear views of the dramatic valley to start the day's hike on the best foot possible! We meandered through small collections of houses, farmland, and along a river until we got to a fun suspension bridge. Lots of picture-taking and relaxing occurred there! Joost, a Belgian college student who had stayed at our same hostel in Chugchilan, caught up with us and helped us discover Percy's amazing catching ability. We love Joost and his excitement, motivation, and unwavering positive attitude towards his travels! He met back up with us at many points throughout our journey, so anytime that occurred, his quirky awesomeness will be referred to by just his name! We crossed our log bridge and the ascent began! The path split so many times that is actually a miracle that we only went off-track once. Unfortunately, the path we took was about 25 minutes of super-steep, loose ground trail that led us to an open field of nothingness. Gorgeous, but definitely not where we needed to go. As Bea shouted across the an indigenous man tending to his fields, we got the usual vague arm wave in the general direction of where we needed to go. Joost. After that, I just remember a lot of upness...which continued for hours. Once we crossed the bridge again, there was a steep, 30-minute uphill hike that left us out of breath and pretending to have interest in the flora, fauna, and wildlife around just to have an excuse to stop. We saw quite a few schoolgirls walking down the same hill towards their homes at the bottom - THAT is serious dedication for education! I'm pretty sure my attendance record for the year would remain in the single digits if I had to climb that hill every day! We reached the top and found Percy waiting for us outside the hostel. Joost. We relaxed, cleaned up a bit, drank tons of tea, and scarfed down the amazing dinner they prepared for us - a veggie lasagna/shepard's pie goodness with homemade pie! Nom nom. Our most expensive night of lodging to date (by far), but totally worth it for that food! Met some idols - a mid-50s Aussie-Kiwi couple who were training to hike Cotopaxi, the snow-covered volcano whose summit lies at 5897 meters! I cannot imagine...the 3000-4500 meter range is PLENTY for me! Good on ya!

Percy - fourth partner in crime!

You can actually see the animal cracker going into his mouth!

Percy getting a little love.

Typical roadblocks we encountered on the trek.

Completely knackered after we hiked up the wrong route.

Percy waiting for us by the door of the hostel!

Composting toilet with a garden for your viewing pleasure.

...a garden of which Percy took full advantage!

After an amazing breakfast, we looked for Percy to say our goodbyes and found him snoozing in the flowerbed across from the natural composting toilet! Percy eventually ran to catch up with us as we walked towards the town's main square and our best bet to find a truck taxi to take us to Sigchos, the departure town for buses heading back to Latacunga. We finally climbed into a passing truck with an indigenous woman who was waiting with us. As we rode along the beautiful winding roads, we jammed to the American 80's music Mr. Driver was playing. We arrived Saquisilli around 10:30am but the bus to Latacunga didn't depart until 2:30pm. We tried our best to kill time - we/mainly Bea chatted with an comforted the indigenous woman when she spoke of her recent series of unfortunate events, we hung out in the main park, bought bread to eat with out spoonfuls of peanut butter, and found entertainment in the school kids that would pass by and call us gringas... entertaining only for the retorts Bea would say back! Once we realized it was still only 11:15, we started looking for other means of transport. And we found it in the form of a cattle transport truck! The back, where we would be riding, was actually quite clean. Since other private trucks were offering to take us for $20 each, we started very low when bargaining for a price. Bea started at $1 each, to which the man shook his head while repeating "no, no, no" softly. Expecting him to come back with a double-digit number, we agreed instantaneously and happily when he countered with "$1.50." So, like human cattle, we hauled ourselves into the back and enjoyed the views out the top, like smiling dogs out of a backseat window! It soon became quite cold before it started raining, so we piled on everything we brought with us. Within minutes, we looked like the kid from "A Christmas Story," finding it difficult to get to a standing position beneath the weight of our clothes! Hannah ran sprints from one end of the container to the other for two purposes: warmth and, mainly, entertainment. We picked up one more gentleman along the way, and before too long, we were back in Latacunga!

As far as Percy would go...so sad!

BOMB fruit, yogurt, and granola breakfast! No bread - UNHEARD OF!

Main square in Saquisilli.

Trying to kill time...lots of ten-second timer pictures.

Hannah, how do you feel about waiting another 2.5 hours for the bus?

Next up, Baños! The town, not the bathrooms.

Tigua

2011-09-30T16:02:00.000-04:00

September 29th - 30th

From Quito, we took a super-crowded city bus to the main bus terminal, during which people would shove themselves through the doors, then look at us and complain audibly about the size of our backpacks. We first took a bus to Latacunga, the capital city of the Cotopaxi region, where we debated about staying since it was already 8pm, but stuck with the original plan of getting to Tigua before the night's end. There were forty minutes to kill, so we walked across the street to the beacon of light/supermarket with all of our bags...the looks we got were pretty classic. Moving in? Supermarkets with more than 3 rows of food and carrying 3 or more brand names we recognize make us giddy little children! It's all about the simple things. After stocking up, we boarded a bus decked out in faux red leather and gold tassel window dressings and rode off into the night.

About an hour later, the wingman comes and taps us on the shoulder to let us know our stop is approaching. Before departing the station, Bea had written the name of two different hostels down on a piece of paper, which she'd shown the wingman. So, we gathered up our carry-ons and stepped off the bus...into BLACKNESS! Other than a very faint, blurry light in the distance, the only light was coming from the amazingly bright stars overhead. I'm pretty sure the only words out of my mouth were, "uhhh, YOU ARE NOT LEAVING US HERE - GET BACK ON THE BUS!" We positioned ourselves strategically - Hannah by the luggage, me by the luggage and bus door, and Bea went towards the faint light to ask the people inside if this was the right town. The entire time, the wingman was confirming that this was indeed the right town, the one on the paper she had shown him. Almost as soon as she reached the little house (one of three that we could see in the general area), she turned around and headed back towards the bus. Meanwhile, the indigenous people on the bus started protecting us and taking our side, screaming out the window, "you cannot leave them here....it is very dangerous!" One older indigenous woman even got out and escorted Bea to the house. I felt honored they would care at all, much less speak up on our behalf. Once Bea, who speaks Spanish fluently (thank goodness), got into a long conversation with the wingman, we watched that "lightbulb" moment move across his face. Apparently, one of hostel's names was also a "town" along the bus route, and the wingman assumed that was where we wanted to go! Relieved but still slightly concerned, we boarded the bus once again until TIGUA!

Once back on the bus, we shared a long, hesitant laugh about what had just happened. Bea then explained what happened when she approached the house. "There were three kids in bed with their mother and the bed was in the same room as the kitchen, and next door there was a...a, you know...where was Jesus born?" Responding simultaneously, Hannah guessed "a manger?" while I said hesitantly "Bethlehem?" Haha. Then, I had a somewhat out-of-body experience...one second we are laughing about the manger, and the next second, I'm staring at the golden tassels bouncing against the pitch black window, listening to the theme song from the "Grease" soundtrack play overhead, and slowly realizing that the bus driver's wife (who, out of concern, had come back to speak with us about our lodging situation) was saying we could stay in the guest room of her house in the town of "Macuchi." Whaaaat is going on?!? Umm...you really live in a town called "Macuchi?" Due to the fact I am a mature, culturally-aware traveler, I only laughed straight for five full minutes instead of ten ;-) I mean really, say it out loud and try not to laugh...that is all I am saying. Once we quieted down from that, Hannah and I (sitting in the two seats ahead of Bea) informed Bea that there was a guy behind her that appeared a little sketchy, leaning up onto her headrest and looking at the things in her seat. So, being the badass she is, Bea turned around immediately and in Spanish told the guy, "you better not even think about trying anything or I will poke your eyeballs out!" Blending in with our diplomatic relations is what we are all about! The look on that guy's face was, however, priceless.

Finally, the bus stopped at the actual town of Tigua. So once again, we gathered our belongings, stepped off the bus and realized it looked...the SAME! The only difference was that this time, the bus pulled away before we could protest. There were a handful more houses that were visible in the streetlamp's dull lighting and, in the not so far distance, we were able to identify the outlines of many stray dogs running directly towards us. We quickly decided to ascend a steep hill towards the other dull light we saw emerging from a home in the distance. Trying to climb a muddy and thin little trail up the side of a hill in the dark is actually more difficult than one would think. Once we made it, Bea tried to get anyone's attention from just outside the house - thankfully, she did! The gentleman she spoke with knew the owner of the hostel, so he sent his son to get the owner. The man that came down to meet us informed us he was indeed the owner of the FORMER hostel. Seeing as it was close to 11pm, our options were quite slim...and I'm pretty sure he read that all over our faces. He offered for us to stay in a spare bedroom they had in the upstairs of their home, because he either felt sorry for us or simply has a kind heart! We did the mandatory "oh, no, we couldn't possibly thing" in our heads for less than 2 seconds and jumped at the kind offer.

Tigua - all of it!

Toaquiza home from the outside, during daylight!

So, here we are in the middle of nowhere, hiking up a mountainside in complete darkness toward one bed in an "artist's getaway workroom." The father, Julio Toaquiza was the main local artist and owner of the town's art gallery. On the walls of the room were pictures of the well-travelled Julio in various countries, posters of his daughter - Sisa Toaquiza, a singer of folk and cumbia music, and other random posters, such as the Teletubbies and the former mayor dressed in drag. Yeah, don't really know what to say about that, other than the craziness of that room was phenomenal! After some conversation about the places he'd travelled and life in Tigua, he walked us a little further into the room to show us the maybe full-size bed. Without missing a beat, we all exclaimed "this is perfect!" Let's just say, for three grown women, it was a VERY snug fit. Once he left us to settle in and prepare for bed, we changed into our ridiculous long johns and warm hats that we'd purchased earlier that day - same design, different colors. We looked special for sure! Group trip to the restroom outside with the one headlamp - the wife liked the headlamps and used one to find her way back to the main house in the dark - where we did a bucket "flush" for the toilet and brushed teeth with dry toothbrushes. Being the last to pile into bed, I rounded the corner and saw Bea and Hannah sitting up, journaling and realized that bed already looked quite full. It was...tight. And so were our long johns! As we are about to close our eyes, Bea asks, "do you think there is Internet here?" :-) Rarely do I laugh to the point of crying, but the tears were just rolling down my face many times today! Classic!

This is the look we observed for the majority of the night!

Pillows for toddlers.

We awoke and began packing up, taking last looks around the room to appreciate it's awesomeness and the ridiculousness of the whole situation. On our way out, the women of the house offered us a warm breakfast! The three of us has the opportunity to discuss life in Andean Ecuador with them, which was both informative and humbling. I am unsure how or why where you are born can have a huge hand in the cards you are dealt in life - the challenges (daily here) and the opportunities that may or may not come one's way - but it does. Through our travels, however, we have been blessed to observe and meet those individuals who by no means are privileged - and yet, they are by far more happy and more aware of what truly matters in life - family, friends, food, and adaptation to one's situation - than most in "first-world" countries.

Timmy, the family dog that never left our side, even when we wanted him to!

View from directly outside the house.

After breakfast, Julio invited us to visit the art gallery, which was covered with similar paintings to those blueprints we'd seen in the room. We appreciated each painting to the soundtrack of his daughter, Sisa Toaquiza's first album. His other older daughter accompanied us to the gallery as well, and both father and sister were visibly proud when the first few notes BLARED through the stereo. We spoke a bit more, bought some small thread bracelets to commemorate the experience, and said our thank you's and goodbyes before RUNNING across the way and back to our bags in time to catch the approaching bus back to Latacunga. Obviously, we needed to regroup and maybe do more research about actual hostels along the Quilatoa Loop before trying again ;-) What an unexpectedly amazing experience! Thanks to the Toaquiza family for harboring three semi-unkempt backpackers who only wore faces of disbelief for the first hour that you met them! We are grateful!

For more about Julio's art: http://www.adventure-life.com/articles/ecuadorian-artists-39/

Scootering, Mindo, and Liga

2011-09-29T15:49:00.000-04:00

September 27th - 29th

Scootering, Round 2! The scooters we rented in Quito were serious! Their horsepower must have been double what the Roatan scooter had because we could MOVE on those scooters. Being as it was a 200+ kilometer, GPS-guided ride through the beautiful rolling hills of Ecuador on various unpaved roads, we decided it would be more comfortable (and probably safer) if Hannah and I got our own scooters. After gearing up with awesome scooter helmets, cutoff gloves, and a double toga-like reflective vests, we headed out of Quito proper on the scary main roads. Luckily, after being honked at a few times, we turned off the main paved roads and started climbing on the windy, gravel roads. Let me tell you, if you have any sort of body image issue, I would not recommend driving a scooter on gravel and compact dirt/rock roads - things jiggle that you didn't even know could! I'm almost certain subcutaneous tissue in my fingers were shaking all about! The views were very "Lord of the Rings"-esque - grandiose and breath-taking in a very dramatic fashion. The ride was absolutely blissful...until we realized the road was NEVER going to end! Every part of our bodies had gone numb hours ago, and the continued bumpy ride became somewhat painful. In addition, as we were FINALLY winding down the paved road into a small town called Mindo, a stop on our self-guided tour, it began down pouring.

So thankful to have stopped riding, we took shelter and joined a chocolate tour (40 minutes late) being given by the creator/owner/entrepreneur/ experimentalist of Mindo Chocolate Makers, Jose. Though he originally moved to Ecuador with his wife in 2008 for a quiet, semi-retired life, his constantly-inventive mind quickly moved them into the coffee and cocoa growing/farming business. We toured the fermentation, roasting, and "winnowing" areas of the complex, in addition to the garden and farming area. This man has about one square acre and has jam-packed it with more than 20 different types of plants - coffee, cocoa, stevia, cabbage, lettuce, tomato, guayaba, lemongrass, ginger, etc. All individuals on the tour had an opportunity to try cocoa at every stage, including the bean itself straight out of the fruit. I can tell you with certainty, I enjoy cocoa only when mixed with sugar! That stuff was BITTER! We also had the opportunity to try his very own BBQ sauce made with miel de chocolate (a liquid by-product from the fermentation process) and ginger syrup, which he serves on the house pancakes. I sampled his homemade "ginger ale" and spent the following 10 minutes allowing the burned esophagus feeling to subside. Pretty sure that was quite literally carbonated water and ginger - INTENSE! It was a great tour and experience that left me full of new knowledge and feeling pretty lazy! Haha.

When we exited the restaurant/hotel/tour house, darkness had descended and the rain continued. Determined to get back to Quito, we hopped on the scooters and headed up the windy paved road leading out of Mindo and connecting with the main one-lane road that leads to the city. We sat there for a solid ten minutes, debating whether we should attempt the trip back or stay in Mindo for the night. There was a woman waiting for a bus back to Quito at the top of the hill - we asked if we could wait with her, thinking we might be able to fit the scooters in the bus and make it back to Quito as planned. The bus came, and not only would they not fit in the luggage space available, there was no way Hannah, myself, and the bus's wingman could lift the beastly machines. After receiving our 17th warning that scootering back at night on the windy road would be very dangerous, and with our parents mainly in mind, we turned around and scootered back to Mindo. Not having prepared to stay, we brought a minimal amount of cash with us n the trip - we explained the situation to the man in the internet cafe as we contacted our hostel in Quito inform them as well (glad we did because the first words out of Yaccou's mouth were "oh my gosh, we were worried sick about you, man!"). The man told us to wait a moment, ran across the street and returned a few minutes later offering us a hostel room for lower than the average nightly rate. The man's friend ran the hostel, so aware of our situation, he gave us a private room for $10....total! The people of Mindo were so generous and kind...overall, it felt like the universe was rewarding us for making the safe decision! Though sleeping in wet clothes isn't the most comfortable thing in the world, we were quite pleased with the events of the evening! Thanks people of Mindo!

In the morning, we headed out pretty early after filling up with glacier blue gasoline from the town's ferreteria. Maybe it's just my lack of knowledge on the gasoline arts, but is your gas supposed to be blue? Could've passed as washer fluid...or mountain berry-flavored Gatorade. Our decision to stay was yet again affirmed when we realized the ride was stressful even during daylight hours! The ride itself, not stressful...the trucks that don't consider you another "vehicle" and thus rush by you on blind curves while laying on the horn...semi-stressful. After about two hours, we reached Media del Mundo!! Latitude 0'0'0'! There is a beautiful monument reflecting the significance of, well, the lack of latitude, that has now been surrounded by vendors trying to capitalize on the presence of all the tourist traffic. Technically, this monument is not at the actual 0'0'0 point, but no one really needs to know. Hannah and I snuck into the back entrance of the museum/gardens that houses the exact point - there is a hefty entrance fee, so we just snapped a picture from the distance and made a quick exit! It's weird...can't say I've spent much time thinking about 0 latitude, but since my mind focused on the "line" part of it, I'd thought the elevation would've sea level. Obviously, once my mind separated GPS coordinates and elevation as two totally different things, I wonder what the range of elevation is along the 0 latitude "line!"

In two hemispheres!

We have an actual jumping picture, but I like this "almost" shot better!

Typical playground companions around these parts.

When we finally fought our way through the city traffic, equally terrifying, we returned our scooters and retired to our hostel, where we did absolutely nothing! Cabin fever set in shortly after that, so we decided to just stroll around town. We passed a few jersey stores and remembered that it was the day of the Liga game, the main Quito futbol team. There was only one hour from the time we discovered when the game was to when we arrived, shortly after the game had started. In that time, we hauled it to the ATM, got gelato, and speed-walked to catch the express bus out of town! Upon arrival, people from the bus terminal just started sprinting to the stadium, which was literally across the street, maybe 100 yards. We don't really enjoy when people run, especially if they are coming from behind us, because we assume they are approaching us to rob us. That anxiety is heightened 100% when you realize, "oh crap, we just withdrew and are packing some serious money!" Luckily, looking as non-chalant as possible and cheering with the locals kept us safe! We waited in a LONG, around-the-corner line to go into the "crazy fan" section. At one point, a group of Europeans looked around, spotted us/fellow gringos, approached us and asked if they could cut in front of us. Having waited in line for 30-plus minutes (and having morals), we 100% turned on our own kind, and in Spanish responded, "ummm, the back of the line is over there, and you are perfectly capable of waiting in line like the rest of us!" They looked hurt, but also intoxicated, so I'm sure they forgot about it two seconds later. Good times. This game gave you the "typical" futbol-obsessed crowd one hopes to experience in these countries - fireworks, team songs, a marching band in the stands behind each goal, toilet paper and receipt paper rolls being thrown onto the field at the opposing team's goalie, banners, and lots of singing, jumping, and screaming! The best part about the game had to be the video they looped on the big screen saying, "Liga no es violencia!" while simultaneously showing clips of horrible things that happen at "other" games. Though not super funny, one clip showed a referee walking back out onto the field from the locker rooms, and as soon as he cleared the covered pathway and stepped foot on the field, a receipt paper roll hit him directly in the head, knocking him out cold - pretty "alarmusing," in a "Wipeout" sort of way. Snacks? Sure, would you like empanadas de carne, chicharrones or popcorn with tomato sauce? Another fun reminder that we aren't in Kansas anymore! Crazy ride home in a mosh pit-style, super crowded bus!

The next morning, Hannah, myself, and a girl we met, Bea, headed out to buy warmer clothing for our upcoming hike of the Quilotoa Loop, a circuit of dirt roads connecting various Andean villages in the mountains surrounding Lago Quilotoa to the capital of the region, Latacunga. On the way out, Bea turns to us and says, "I'm in the mood for a really nasty burger!" Just a warning...there will be lots of great one-liners from this girl. After eating at "The G Spot" (the only thing that makes any of that ok was the fact a good futbol game was playing in the restaurant!), we headed back to the hostel to pack! Another journey to come...and then, there were three!

Quito, Ecuador

2011-09-26T20:32:00.000-04:00

September 23rd - 26th

In contrast to our Colombian exit, our entry into Ecuador was fast and smooth - we got a "Bienvenidos" AND a smile! We boarded a bus, listened to a man with a boom box on his shoulder (literally) who was free-styling to the beat of a "50 Cent" song, and then realized the bus we were on was heading in the complete opposite direction of where we needs to be. After hopping off and setting a price with a taxi driver, we started heading to the "Old Town" area - we tried to show him a map and point to the exact corner, but he wasn't really feeling that idea. The conversation went a little like so...cabbie: "No, I don't know where that hostel is." Us: "Would you like to see a map?" Cabbie: "Yes! Let me see it!" I hold up the map and point to the general area. While not even glancing in the general direction of the map, he waves his hand towards me and says "no, I can't see it." Ohhhhhhh k. Us: "You know, the park in San Blas is fine." A few minutes later, the skies opened and traffic descended. As we were just sitting and waiting, admiring the way the taillights reflected through the huge raindrops on the windows, the taxi driver turns and says, "I think you should pay me the $5 for the ride and $5 for my time I'm losing while sitting in this traffic." "Oh, thanks for the offer, but seeing as the traffic is not our fault, nor is the fact you continue sitting here rather than choosing a different route, I think we will stick with the amount we agreed on." I should have anticipated something based on the silence that followed, but I was just proud that I was able to find those words in Spanish. I was feeling sassy. And I guess he sensed that, because, coupled with his lack of knowledge of the area, he literally told us to get out in the MIDDLE of a 4-lane underpass freeway. After the customary "are you serious" protests from the both of us, we decided he wasn't joking, nor would he have known where to go anyway. The cars weren't really an issue due to the standstill traffic, but as soon as we stepped foot outside the cab, we found ourselves wading in mid-calf deep, very cold, running water. We ran across different overpasses, seeking shelter under various vendors' umbrellas for a few minutes at a time. Not only are we two Americanas with extremely large, abnormal-looking baggage running around at night, but we are soaking wet in our short-sleeved shirts, shorts, and sandals in the 35-degree weather. So, looking rough attracts attention...usually, it is negative. However, in this case, it attracted the concern of a gentlemen getting bread who worked for a hostel up the road...he took pity on us, gave us his umbrella, and escorted us to the dorms for our inspection. It looked clean, and sometimes, you are just too exhausted to care. What a night!

Quito Viejo

We spent the day roaming around the city and exploring Quito's historic district, beginning with Plaza Grande. There was a group of individuals, whether it be city-sponsored or whatnot, who ran a number of different activities for children throughout the plaza - chalk-drawing, jump roping, face painting, bubble making, and rides on a multi-seat bike. Since making and blowing bubbles doesn't ever get old, Hannah and I wedged ourselves between a group of children surrounding a fountain full of bubble solution to partake in the fun! What a great program for children and the community in general!

Meandering around, we found ourselves in front of the main Basilica, which dominates the Old Town's skyline. We climbed a variety of staircases and ladders to reach the many different viewing areas the basilica had to offer. The views of the city went on for miles and miles in every direction. The clock and bell towers provided a unique antiquity that charmed us for quite a while - many photographs taken there!

After a "tortillos con verde" lunch, we continued meandering through the streets of Old Towne, to the soundtrack of various street performers playing folk-like style, windpipe arrangements of classic ballads, like "My Heart Will Go On." Even as an instrumental, that song still irritates me. As we strolled into Plaza San Francisco, there were two things that stood out: there were two large "teams" of pigeons resting atop buildings on opposing sides of the plaza that would take turns swan diving through the plaza and about 5 inches above every bystander trying to enjoy the day (not ok!) AND there was a huge "Discover Firefighting" event going on in the plaza. Though we were afraid something on the fire engine may have broken if we climbed on top of it and explored like all the other children, we did partake in the one event. We waited in a line to gear up (legit - oxygen tanks, masks, and the entire suit minus boots) and crawl through a pitch black maze full of smoke. Though we could see that it was a simple L-shaped maze from the outside, when you are in there, all reason goes out the window! Without realizing it, my respiratory rate suddenly became over 35 and when my tank prevented me from squeezing over an obstacle they'd placed in the maze's path, I started to panic a little - mainly because after I finally made it over the teetering tabletop, I realized my shoe hadn't made it with me...so then I had to do that bit TWICE! We both eventually made it, but came out with a whole new appreciation for the difficulty, technique, and bravery needed to do such a "job" - a very humbling experience, indeed. So, for all of those firefighters out there, and really anyone who has MADE it through fire school - you have my utmost respect (yeah Lizzard!) No day would be complete without gelato at sunset!

On Sunday, we started the day out well by eating what ended up being rice with 1/4 of an egg in a small tienda with roaches on the wall. When we saw them, we ate/stopped eating a little faster than we were before - however, we did have entertainment in the form of three drunk men (mind you, it is 8:30am) serenading the jukebox that was playing at maximum volume. However, once we got to El Ejido park, everything got better! We found a family renting out random bikes...garage sale purchases or products of various thefts maybe? Whatever it was, we embraced the low-riding, crooked bikes with no brakes and began riding with other locals in the middle of huge streets that officials had shut down for "ciclodia!" Now, it's cool already simply pretending you are a car, just on a bike, riding down the dotted line...but throw in two amazing parks with their respective flash-mob style, outdoor jazzercise classes and you have a REMARKABLE day! These people, of every age, shape, and size, were KILLING IT!! These dudes in spandex shorts and hi-tops created a series of extremely complicated steps that the masses seemed to pick up in one attempt! We watched for about 30 minutes before trying it out for ourselves - even the basic, "cool-down" steps were pretty darn complicated. Hannah and I only had to make fools of ourselves for about 2 minutes before a lady came by collecting money for the class - at which point we turned and exited semi-gracefully. The other park had a similar, less-complicated jazzercise class as well. Though I am not sure it was due to the fact we were there during "Semana de Movimento" (week of movement), or if this is how Quitoians roll, but the entire park looked like a movie set! Cheer teams were practicing, Dads were teaching sons to catch, girls were playing Ring-Around-the-Rosie, friends were playing futbol, old colleagues were playing rounds of tennis...at any moment, I was expecting a huge camera crew to roll trailing two actors or something! It was just...HAPPY! Elated and filled with an experimental spirit, Hannah and I tried the "Nica" style of riding - one person sitting side-saddle on the horizontal bar running from the seat to the handlebars while the other steers and pedals. This is probably quite difficult on bikes with brakes and that actually steer straight. Mission Ride Nica Style = Fail! All I remember is we ended up on the cement, tearing up from laughing so hard, and slowly becoming aware of how many others were laughing at us as well! After returning the bikes, we recovered at an outdoor cafe that was broadcasting a local futbol game. One of the most care-free, pure FUN days we've had on this entire trip!!

Monday brought a VERY cool "Changing of the Guards" at the Presidential Palace. First of all, the guards carry long bamboo sticks with little Ecuadorian flags on the end of them instead of guns. Plus, they SING!! There were various bands playing patriotic songs while the guards marched into position. Also, THE PRESIDENT himself, along with his family and all important members of his cabinet, came out onto the very open, very exposed balcony to address the public and watch the festivities as well! That would NEVER happen in the States! It was soooo much fun seeing the pride in the eyes of the locals - plus, everyone sang the songs...no one to proud for sing-a-longs! Afterwards, we took in the lovely views of the city from our hostel's terrace and practiced some dance moves ;) Before dark, I took a long walk to Rocodomo, a ROCK CLIMBING gym in Quito, but sadly missed the free climb hours.

That is actually the President, his family, and the cabinet!

Our scootering journey requires its own post, so until then, MISS AND LOVE my friends and family!

Medillin, Colombia

2011-09-23T20:25:00.000-04:00

September 22nd - 23rd

The bus ride from Cartagena to Medellin was 13-plus hours...that is long enough for anyone, however, when the bus driver is cranky, it just makes everyone equally cranky...and of course, we were FREEZING UNNECESSARILY. PS - plastic bags as leg-warmers, not super effective but good in a bind. Also, even the weather outside is Sahara hot, never board a South American bus without ALL THE CLOTHES YOU OWN! Luckily, we had some entertainment in the form of an older woman that sat to the other side of Hannah - she would just do really random things that made us smile, like spend a solid 20 minutes picking tangerine peels out of the bottom of her purse, have no hesitations walking right on into the men's bathroom at our rest stop, and then returning to her seat...in the bus next to ours! It made us smile lots - and she did realize her mistake eventually. However, we paid for our entertainment...in the form of REVENGE! The lady for some reason transported a cooler full of dead fish. Well, the ride was a bit windy and bumpy...thus, all the fish juice had run out and ONTO OUR BACKPACKS! Yes, we smelled of rotten fish for THE ENTIRE metro ride to center city and the walk to our hostal. Basically, people moved for us...we could literally part crowds instantly. It was like a superpower... whose consequences included smelling like sewage run-off. After the lady who checked us into the hostal graciously excused herself (probably to dry heave) a few times, we headed up to our PRIVATE room and spent the rest of the morning washing and drying EVERYTHING! Not going to lie, the city urine smell was a welcome one compared to what we emitted! Hostel Odeon...you are our savior! Clean, bug free PRIVATE rooms with towels, a mini fridge, windows, and TV!! DONE!

After a couple hours of washing, Febreezing, and washing again, we heded our to explore the city. In the heart of Medellin sits Plaza Bolivar, littered with replicas of Botero statues leading to the doors of Museo de Antioquia, a large collection or various artwork spread out amongst its four floors. Also, it was the first time we were able to use our youth cards to get in for free, saving us $8000, which we later used to buy groceries for dinner! The fastest exhibits were Botero's (just not a fan) and the portraits collection from the 1600s. The greatest piece was an abstract/mixed media that had paintbrushes and parts of various musical instruments emerging out of the canvas background! Once our brains became overwhelmed with art knowledge, we walked around town and did what we do best...people-watch. Medellin is the perfect town for someone with ADD and a little bit of street smarts...at times, overstimulating but never dull. According to Lonely Planet, there was a bookstore with a decent collection of English books, so we of course checked it out. Usually LP doesn't mislead anyone too badly, but the get a thumbs down on this one - it was a woman sitting in front of a glass case containing about 22 books, 4 of which were in English - LAME! We gathered necessary veggies for the usual tomato/cucumber/avocado salad and ate it in our OWN room, while flipping channels until landing on...drumroll please..."Dawson's Creek!" Hannah and I apologize to everyone involved in our lives during the stage of our lives where we actually thought this was a good show...we are sorry.

Relaxing after a loooong art education!

The second day consisted of jamming to great tunes and seeking out the significance of the word "mona," which Hannah and I were getting called a lot. Though we assumed it had something to do with being gringas (doesn't it always?), we confirmed with the confused gentlemen at the tourist information booth. Diplomatically, he said "it means someone with lighter hair." "Neither of us has light-colored hair." "Well, it means maybe a fairer being..." "So, it means 'whitey?'" "Well...yes." "Thanks, that is what we thought, we just wanted to make sure." Pumped with our new-found knowledge, we headed to another nearby park and stumbled upon an amazing quartet of musicians who played Vallenato classics for the rather significant yet still intimate crowd of fans that had formed beneath the trees' scattered shade. Obviously, we joined and enjoyed the infectious harmonies and the perfect blend of musicality that three guitars and a cheese grater can provide! As they sang, one older gentleman in particular observed them, us, ans everyone else with the same mouth agape, half grin/half shocked expression - almost as though he was dumbfounded or at a loss for words...just for the ENTIRE morning. He made us smile lots! Luckily, you too can enjoy his awesomeness on the right in the picture below. Once someone in the crown made a comment about "monas" and "cameras," we decided that was a perfect opportunity to explore a little more. Of course, we circled back around to catch a few more tunes within about 30 minutes of leaving the park. This time, we admired the creativity of a child sitting across from us in the park...until we realized the device he was making served as a launcher of grass and other earth-like elements...at us! Oh Medellin, never a dull moment, and we thank you for that!

Getting to our flight was quite eventful, thanks to the ridiculous security for passengers leaving Colombia. They REALLY don't want you to bring ANYTHING, other than coffee, out of that country! So, start with two separate officials that checked your ticket validity prior to entering the "security" area! Next, the usual x-ray station where they avidly discouraged the removal of shoes. Walk through metal detector. Get a 360-degree hand-held wand search from another official. Pat down from a female officer. Then, further down to the station where the police (whose main job is to keep drugs in their country?) opened each carry-on and went through it all, one item at a time. The officer (PO1) started with our deflated playground ball - she removed it, smelled it, shook it, and flipped it. Next, she held out the bag of plastic utensils (which we have strategically collected from the good places) with a very questionable look on her face, paused for a diva moment, and moved on to the peanut butter. Oh gosh. She looked at it, shook it, opened it, and took a deep whiff of it...I literally thought she was going to sample it with her pinky finger. (In Spanish to the other officer - PO2 - who was doing...NOTHING) PO1: "They have large containers of this in America, my mom says." PO2: "What is it?" PO1: "Peanut butter." PO2: "What do you do with it?" Us: "Well, you can make sandwiches with that and marmalade, or simply put it on crackers..." PO2: Makes a confused/disgusted face, reaches over and grabs it from PO1, shakes it, opens it, smells it, hesitates, makes a semi-dry heave face, puts the lid back and hands it back to PO1! Ummm...WHAAAAAAAAAAAT? Are we on candid camera? Does this really happen? This is RIDICULOUS but simultaneously hysterical! Thankfully, we only had one person in the security line ahead of us...can you imagine how long this process would take if you even had 10 people ahead of you? Years...you would need to go back and get a VISA! After another 3-4 minutes of inspecting our food bag and making what began as "really?" looks that soon turned into more pitying looks with each collection of "probably useful sometime" things that she extracted (ie napkins, salt and pepper packets, little ice cream sample spoons, etc), she then moved on to our personal belonging bags. Status of PO2: still doing nothing, but now looks like he might be contemplating the uses of peanut butter...or maybe remembering that he left the stove on? The process went much the same for our backpacks. With my other most valuable items, I packed some individually-wrapped dark chocolates that my parents sent in a care package :) Well, apparently that looks suuuuppppeeeerrr sketch...thus, a repeat of the PB inspection. PO1 shook the Ziploc of chocolates, dragged her nose along the top of the Ziploc while sniffing intently, opened it, removed one chocolate, and repeated the exact same process. To lighten the mood a little, and to ensure her I wasn't trying to smuggle drugs out of her country, I asked her if she wanted one. PO1: "What kind of chocolate is it?" Me: "It's pretty dark...about 72%." PO1: "It's sweet?" Me: "Not really." PO1: Fake dry heave with the tongue out and everything, then throws the chocolate back in the Ziploc and moves onto the next item! During the rest of the search, she kept asking us what other countries we were visiting. A common theme we have discovered among Colombians...any other country outside of Colombia "es feo!" We would endulge her a little with conversation, but that ended once she kept saying, "ahh, Ecuador...es feo! Y Peru?...Es mas feo!" DANG LADY! HARSH! What usually quiets them down is when you ask if they have ever traveled to them, which is what I asked her...you will find that 93% of the time, the answer is no. Oh gosh, Colombia - you have some die-hard patriots in your country! Once we got past security, all was well. One of our in-flight options of entertainment was watching the "Beiber" episode of "Glee!" Not super important, but it reminded me of my lovely "Caucasian" friends...I miss you ladies!

Next up... QUITO, ECUADOR! Miss everyone from home...mucho!

Cartagena, Colombia

2011-09-22T16:27:00.000-04:00

September 19th - 22nd

After a long 22-plus hour bus ride, we got to Cartagena and took yet another bus into the center city. We walked for a good 20 minutes and finally found a hostel listed in our guidebook. More than tired, we threw our stuff into the room, went out to get food, and returned to relax. In my half-motived effort to check for chinches, I saw two or three crawling around the edge of the mattress' corner - I cannot be 100% certain they were in fact bedbugs, but I was 100% certain I didn't want to stay and find out in the morning! So as we went down to tell the man running the hostel that night why we were leaving, he became INSTANTLY defensive, dropped his pen, and said "You show me!" and STORMED up the stairs. Well, as we unfortunately have discovered, bedbugs don't really come when called. So, literally after about 5-7 seconds of us looking with out headlamps, he said (unless otherwise indicated, everything is in Spanish) "See, there are no bedbugs, THERE ARE NO BUGS!" He then RIPPED the sheets off the beds, and FLIPPED the mattresses over and half onto the floor while still screaming that there could never be bedbugs in his establishment. After about 5 more minutes of us trying to look for bedbugs while he would dive in and flip things around again, we walked down the stairs and waited for him to return our money. He did, but with a "you are very bad people to make up such lies and you better not tell ANYONE!" Well, if we didn't feel welcome before, we certainly feel comfortable to stay now!?! Holy gosh, what a way to end an already horrific 24 hours. Luckily, we chose a much nicer place and woke up the next morning, without bites or chinches - SCORE!

The next day was spent exploring, where among many other things, we found a huge, styrofoam container of freshly cut fruit for only C$2000 - the cheapest real food to be found in all of Colombia. We walked along a beach-like section of the city, took mandatory jumping pictures, and then headed to their Naval/Armed Forces monument, where Hannah tripped so high enough I could have taken another "jumping" picture. There was one lady near the beach who I thought was going to rob us, but really she just told us we would be robbed and to keep our bags close! Haha, thanks lady! Hannah and I meandered along the old fort walls of the city overlooking the ocean until the sun became hot enough to warrant a 10-minute "perusing" break in an air-conditioned bookstore. Again, no way in HECK we would ever spend $50 on a book! The colorful storefronts and cobblestoned streets provided us picturesque views for the remainder of the daylight. There was a rumba band playing on the fort walls during the night, giving us the perfect soundtrack for people-watching.

On Wednesday, we walked to the fantastic "Old Shoes" monument which I know my sister would have loved! Quite literally, a bronze sculpture of two huge, old shoes. There was another fort in that general direction of the city as well! Again, for our AC break, we headed into a little mall that had "escalators" - aka moving walkways at a tilted angle! We had SO much fun running up and down those guys - it's the little things! After completely cooling off in the refridgerated section of the mall's supermarket, we explored Las Bolvedas, a series of 20+ former dungeons-now-turned artisan shops. At one point, I look up and find Hannah being surrounded by some kids and giving me the wide-eyed "hey, come here" signal. When I joined them, I realized they were 5-6 students learning English privately with the gentleman that approached Hannah and asked her to speak to the students - this was their "get out and use it" day of English class. The ages ranged from 8-18...they were all quite shy, but the 18-year-old who spoke quite well did the majority of the talking. We asked the 15-year-old girl if she wanted to travel to another country and she said, "No, I do not want to travel because I love Colombia and I want to work in occupational health for Colombia!" I was quite impressed by the pride she had in her country and her patriotism, though I cannot quite empathize with her lack of interest to travel. The teacher's friend who owned one of the shops came out to chat with us as well. He spoke 5 languages and I capitalized on the opportunity of having a real English-speaker - I asked "What's up with all of the men calling and hissing at women like we are dogs?" After pulling the whole "it's our culture" thing, he said "It's just another way of being flirtaceous, like 'hey, you have beautiful eyes' or 'I like the way you walk!" HAHAHA! Apparently, they use that here! Best pickup line ever!

The evening consisted of running around and taking the typical "touristy" pictures after realizing our parents and family might want to see them! We headed back to the hostel to recharge, repack, and prepare for another long, cold bus ride. During the ride on the transporter bus, Hannah and I stood/sat on separate ends of the PACKED bus. When we finally exited together at the bus terminal, I asked Hannah, "soooo, what'd you think about?" She then told me about a whole alert/alarm system she created for us in the incident when one of us would be robbed and the other wasn't in the direct vicinity! Speechless, thinking "wow, that was a productive bus ride," Hannah then asked what I thought of during the ride. I responded, "things that open...you know, like doors, gates, hands, eyes, bags of chips...and metaphorically speaking, minds, hears, and ears." "Ohh, that's...fun." At least one us thinks of things that benefit us as a traveling duo! Thanks Hannah!

Bogota, Colombia

2011-09-18T15:13:00.025-04:00

September 12th - 18th

Oh...where to begin?

Luckily, the two short, less than 50 minutes flights to Bogota were uneventful! For the first time, we had someone MEETING us at the airport - one of the best things ever! However, at our connection in Medellin, we discovered the immgration officers here in Colombia are NO JOKE! Like a prepared traveler, I had not written down the contact number or contact number for Mauricio, the new member of our family (his sister married my Dad's nephew?) who we would be staying with in Bogota. When the immigration officer realized I had left the "Forseen Address" section of my customs card blank, she demanded I give her one by saying (literally), "If you don't have an address, you cannot enter my country, and I suggest you go ahead and leave!" Whaaaattt? Dang lady - no "Bienvenidos a Colombia?" I RAN over to Hannah 6 cubicles down and grabbed the South America guide book which had various hostel addresses listed - Hannah already had it in her hand, so she didn't have a very warm welcome or easy entry either! Thank goodness that appeased her. They should really use her for interrogation, she would truly excel - she did an excellent job scaring the crap out of me! Finally, we reached Bogota and after a little mix-up about international vs domestic arrival areas, we found Mauricio waiting for us with our names written out on a sheet of paper! We kinda felt like rock stars a little at that moment. He is just the nicest and sweetest gentleman on the planet! The night consisted of unpacking, eating AREPAS he made for us, sampling juice from "lulo" (a fruit only found in Colombia we were told), and decompressing! Thank goodness he speaks clearly and somewhat slowly, by Colombian standards, so we can actually understand him.

On the 13th, Mauricio escorted us to the city after a tamale breakfast (that's right, huge tamales at 7:30am) and showed us "must-sees according to a local" - guaranteed to be better than any guide book could offer! We walked along the streets near one of Bogota's many universities, which provided the youthful excitement that one can find on most all college campuses. The energy was set perfectly to the background of cobblestoned streets, vibrantly colored houses, and many wooden external balconies artfully littered with potted flowers and plants. Bogota sits in a valley between alarmingly steep but smooth mountains, so wherever you look, the green giants are always present...a HUGE yet humble reminder of where we are standing. We walked MANY streets in that area before descending into Plaza Bolivar, a vast open space of clean, concrete beauty, flanked on all four sides by very significant architechtural icons - the Primate Cathedral, the National Capital (Congress), Palace of Justice (Supreme Court), and Lievano Building (home of the Mayor). We could have spent HOURS there exploring and people-watching if it weren't for the obscene amounts of pigeons constantly flying at your head. We checked out a cloister-type compound that had just recently been restored which also provided information about some ongoing human rights projects in various areas of Colombia. Of course, we sampled the street sweets called "obleas," two circular wafers that contain the ingredients you choose - raspberry jam, dulce de leche, peanuts, coconut, etc - and ate a traditional lunch soup called "ajiaco," quite literally a little bit of everything. After walking a bit more and speaking with the eclectic locals, we headed back to the apartment to recoop before the FUTBOL game!! We went to see Equidad de Bogota play Libertad del Paraguay... an hour and a half before the game even started! Due to the fact this is a relatively young team (7-years old), we may or may not have been three of the first, ehhhhh, 20 people in the stadium - let's just say at that moment, the number of police and personnel working the event outnumbered the fans 15:1. Luckily, the die-hard fans soon came to set up their drumsets, brass instruments, and "buzzers" (the annoying things you heard during the games of the World Cup), thus providing the majority of our pre-game entertainment. The quality of play was leaps and bounds better than Guatemala (sorry Guat, but it's true), and the teams were pretty evenly matched, so it felt like a real game!

The next day, Hannah and I went explored some more and took the funicular up to Monserrate, a huge yet simple white church that sits atop one of the surrounding mountains and provides 360-degree views of the city! I am always amazed that people can build train cars and gondolas that can safely ascend or descend near-vertical terrain! Also, SUPER FUN to ride in, let's be honest! Bogota is HUGE - not only does it take up the entire valley area, but it creeps up the bottom third of almost every surrounding mountain! We spent a good amount of time just sitting and appreciating where we are and putting things in perspective. After coming back down the mountain on the gondola, we made our way to the Museo de Oro, a very informative, well-organized, and well-supplied museum about this history of gold and other earth metals. It is still quite difficult to believe any metal comes from the earth! On the way back, a man struck up conversation with Hannah and asked what we had done thus far in Bogota - she told him about the futbol game and he kept insisting it was a waste of time. After repeatedly defending the game and honestly telling him how much we enjoyed the game, the conversation ended when Hannah said in a very direct tone, "Well, we had fun and really enjoyed it!" I was so proud of her and the awkward silence that followed! In the evening, we headed to a cute Del Ray-ish style bookstore, which had books for $50 and above!! PS - NEVER buy a book in Columbia if you can avoid it! Actually, try not to buy ANYTHING in Colombia if you can avoid it because it is SOOO EXPENSIVE. We have already decided to cut our time in Colombia due to the fact 4 days is one week's worth of budget! As a thank you to Mauricio, we made a pasta dinner with a vegetable salad because, well, who can really mess that up? THESE KIDS! Somehow the pasta became rubbery, we burnt the pre-made sauce, AND none of the vegetables (cucumbers, tomatoes, and avacados) were ripe! Saaaaaad! Some thank you! Mauricio, being the kind and gracious man that he is, ate everything on his plate. We still feel bad about that...don't worry, we took him out for a real dinner before we left - at an actual restaurant!

You thought I was kidding when I said it was expensive?

The next few days were filled with laziness and failed attempts to organize our lives, except for LAUNDRY. As we were looking through Mauricio’s eclectic collection of books, he began recommending some…which we later discovered were “American classics”…that we had never heard of before. Pretty embarrassing a Colombian whose THIRD language is English knows more about American literature than we do! He also had an English idioms book…how many people have heard of the phrase “as awkward as a cow on a crutch?” I definitely hadn’t before, but now I use it as often as possible because the mental image makes me smile. We went to a richer area that had a very Old Towne vibe to walk around at night, looking at the various name-brand stores, expensive boutiques, and specialty restaurants…with the exception of a “Hooters?” Why does Bogota or ANY city for that matter need a Hooters? We did pass through the mall cinema and see a “Coming Soon” poster for the movie Mauricio had worked on with his professor, “Pequenas Voces,” which we went to see the following day in 3D!! The movie itself is a 3D animated collection of stories about the lives of certain countryside children told by the children in the face of troubling times. It was AMAZING! The animation is based on the drawings of the children as well, so although simplistic, they are very powerful. Even if you do not speak Spanish, you only have to watch it to FEEL EVERYTHING! I would definitely recommend the movie to anyone!

Things that may us jump for joy...clean laundry!

Hannah with the best arepa to date!

On the 17th, we took a bus ride through the mountains to Villa de Leyva, a beautiful, Spanish-influenced pueblo that is one of Mauricio’s favorite places in Colombia. Many of the white buildings had external wooden, flower-adorned balconies which gave the whole pueblo small splashes of color and lots of personality. Pretty sure my grandmother would run out of film in this town! We spent the entire late morning/early afternoon just walking around the town and taking in the beautiful people and architecture. Events in short: ate huge lunch (soup, rice, baked potato, salad, lentils…), watched a man weaving his own material very quickly and efficiently, got rejected by street dogs when they wouldn’t eat the bread I offered them, watched kids being kids, and just before boarding the bus home, we saw a bride and groom riding through the streets in a horse-drawn carriage to the church steps in the main square, where their friends and family awaited them with HUGE smiles and rose pedals. We took hundreds of pictures and Mauricio waited patiently without a word – oh Mauricio, sorry!

We convinced Mauricio to partake in the jumping pictures ritual!

The next day, we packed and took Mauricio to “Crepes and Waffles,” an AMAZING restaurant with, well, sweet and savory crepes, waffles, and a HUGE salad bar! FINALLY, a good salad! THANK YOU MAURICIO FOR A GREAT TIME!

After bittersweet goodbyes, we headed to the bus station for a LONG, 24-plus hour journey to Cartagena!

Gracias por Todos!

2011-09-18T11:42:00.003-04:00

We WILL be seeing you again!

And Hannah, how would you sum up our time in Central America?

Panama and San Blas

2011-09-12T14:49:00.000-04:00

September 6th - 12th

Still waiting...

Panama is a looooong country - the projected journey was 15.5 hours, and although ours took a little more than 18 hours, more than a third of that time was spent at the border crossing! We were unloaded off the bus on the Costa Rica side to get our exit stamp at about 4:30am. Already exhausted from shaking in the bus's arctic temps (the nausea-inducing kind), everyone was none too pleased when we were relocated outside only to wait until someone showed up to work at the window slightly before 8am. The Panama had similar wait times for the stamp and bag check (PS proof of onward travel required), but we were at least entertained by the various "trajes" of the indigenous people that were passing through as well. Soon after that debacle, our bus had a little breakdown problem for about 45 minutes or so. Luckily, I had taken Bendaryl 50mg in hopes to sleep, so I missed a good portion of the actual driving and, according to Hannah, a checkpoint or two - reason #721 why traveling with someone is advantageous: when they cannot wake you after multiple shakes and taps, they check for chest rise and then go into your bag to hand the waiting policeman your passport! Thanks to Hannah and the makers of Benadryl! When we arrived to Panama, people cheered! Our hostel is situated in Casco Viejo, the "Old Quaters" of Panama and is, quite literally, across the street from the Presidential Palace. The view of Panama City is what you may find on postcards, and they had a paved walking and bike path (or ciclovia) that ran along the water from Casco Viejo into the city center...could not have a better location!

The next couple of days were spent exploring the antiquity and run-down beauty of our area and walking the length of the exercise path. The city itself reminds me a little of Tampa Bay - sky-scrapers, a causeway, great pedestrian paths along the water, and similar climate. We love the presence of sport and exercise here - there are 6 nice basketball courts along the pathway where you will almost always find groups playing (futbol mostly, but occasionally basketball as well). One night, we watched a group of Panamanians "playing" basketball and, although no rules were observed and there was lots of double-dribbling, traveling, bear-hug guarding, and shanking off the backboard (and fence sometimes) going on, they were having a BLAST and it was refreshing to see. Another court had middle-aged women running simple futbol drills while being coached and encouraged by men in business suits - they were of similar athletic caliber as the basketball group, but again, soooo fun! Plus, this is really the first time we've seen kids having the opportunity to be kids! Panama City also provided us entertainment in the form of cab rides - always exciting and rarely legal. by far, my favorite driver was an older gentleman who wore cut-off leather gloves and pretended he was a race car driver - to compensate for the fact he had an automatic, he would shift into neutral at stoplights in order to rev his engine before shifting back into drive once the light changed! Classic!

On the eighth, Hannah and I made our way out to the Miraflores Locks of the Panama Canal by way of their "chicken buses" (similar use of color to Guatemala's but they use much more chrome and "bling" here). Due to my lack of knowledge about the Canal, I hadn't really understood why it is "one of the greatest engineering feats to date." Now we do! The museum at Miraflores is very comprehensive, interactive, and provides a plethora of visual aids to enhance one's understanding of the canal's history and significance. The canal itself has many different elevations throughout its 27 kilometers and so, to aid in the passage of ships, the locks transfer water between lanes by gravitational flow to either raise or lower the ship to the same level as the upcoming section of the canal! We had the opportunity to watch a rather large ship go through the locks and be lowered for the next portion of canal! It was really interesting to watch - in real time, paint could dry in the time it takes one large ship to be guided through the locks, yet it still was quite exciting! Others thought so too - in less than ten minutes, we went from being two of ten people on the museum roof/canal-viewing area to being squished up against the walls mosh-pit style by a group of 100+ that came out of nowhere. Also, it was nice to learn of the canal's significance within the country - especially since Panama took 100% control over the Canal and it's functioning in 2001, it is a huge source of national pride amongst Panamanians. Miraflores was simply a wonderful experience! On a side note, it won our Central America superlative for "best gift shop," so that's a plus as well.

A ship passing through the canal! Here are the water levels before...

...and after. As you can see in Hannah's face, it is pretty amazing!

The weekend brought us San Blas, an archipelago of 160-plus picturesque islands all owned by the indigenous Kuna! Phones only work about 30% of the time on the islands, so making a reservation at one of the islands with cabanas was quite a production. After the transport van (with A/C!!) picked us up at 5:30, we were then driven to the office to pay all necessary fees. It was there where we told them at which island we planned on staying - when we said ours, we got the same confused look we'd received from, well, everyone we'd spoken to about San Blas. A few phone calls later by the office staff and we were told the island is the furthest out and would take six-plus hours by boat and, resultantly, about $500 more! Whaaaaaat?!?! Thus, we went with his recommendation given our criteria - pretty and as uninhabited as possible! We met two great Aussies, Gemma and Keith, during the transport fiasco - bus ride, border patrol (aka policeman sitting in a plastic lawn chair by the docks who compares your passport to the travel manifest), boat ride to another "immigration control" office on the island of Porvenir (where the "airport" is, and by airport, I mean 70-yard strip of shorter grass that is used by island footballers), and boat trek to our respective islands. One island stood out as more picturesque than many we'd passed, and as we all positioned ourselves to get a clear picture of it, the boat slowed down and Batman Kuna Mullet (the Kuna man with a mullet and Batman visor who drove the boat) announced it was Iguana - the island we were staying on!!! It looked like the islands you see on those "Dream" posters! We explored the views from every point on the island, which is less than 50-square yards of white sand and home to about ten cabanas. That evening, we had a round-table meal (HUGE blue fish caught by the resident Kuna family) with the others staying on our island - three separate Israeli couples, a pair of German brothers, Gemma, and ourselves. The great conversation carried us through the evening. On a side note: so relaxing to be someplace where you don't have to watch your bags all the time and the greatest threats are the falling coconuts - seriously, they would drop FEET away from us...those things can legitimately kill you! We would just hear thuds throughout the night every half hour or so - CRAZY! Hannah and I started looking up when we walked and strolled along the ¨beach¨ in order to evade the potential danger, because really, what an awful way to go!

Batman Kuna Mullet

The island we shared with the Kuna!

Pretty much how we feel being on this island!

All day Saturday, our exchanges would be like "who are we?", "who does this?", and "we are blessed!" We ate dinner with Gemma and Keith, who made it over on an early morning boat to stay on Isla de Iguana because, well, who wouldn't want to move to the best island in San Blas!?! Then, the post-breakfast swim and wade in the crystal blue waters. Hannah and I spotted a group of three teenage Kuna in their wooden canoe who were fishing a little further out...so, like any sane person would do, we joined them! Our skills for, well, anything relating to fishing aren't that great to start with, but then replace the standard pole with a spear + a stick with a rounded piece of metal on the end = we watched. It was a workout in and of itself to simply stay in the canoe and not flip it! Add to that the catches they'd already made, HUGE crabs and lobsters in the bottom of the canoe whose sole purpose was to pinch whoever they thought put them in the boat in the first place. While we "helped" by shoveling warm water from the base of the canoe and replacing it with cooler ocean water via shoes, these kids dove down 15+ meters with only a mask and snorkel...we wouldn't see them for MINUTES!! It was absolutely incredible! When they returned, they held lobsters the size of my neck and head up triumphantly while simultaneously moaning slightly due to the INSANE pressure build-up in their heads! To humor us, and maybe themselves, they paddled the canoe over to shallower water, about 7-8 meters, and dropped one of the lobsters to the ocean floor so we could try and catch it with the stick and metal loop thingy. The pressure in your head is CRAZY...and that was only HALF the depth that they went. Needless to say, whether it was my lack of skill or my vegetarian subconscious, I was highly unsuccessful. Spearfishing...equally unsuccesful and spent the majority of time humming Dori's "just keep swimming, just keep swimming" while underwater. We were called into lunch via conch shell, had a short game of volleyball afterwards, and then futbol with the Australians and two Panamanians vacationing on Iguana as well. Hannah and I were on a team with Kafu Bonton, who we later discovered is a very famous reggae singer in Central America! Hannah, Keith, and I wanted to make it a tri-sport day, so we played catch with...a small coconut, as one does on the best island ever! As the sun began to set, we headed back into the water and were serenaded by Kafu's friend Mario as he rapped to a reggae beat about us being on the island. The best part = we actually understood it!! Dinner brought coconut rice and salad, crazy music, an impromptu dance lesson led by Mario, and a long series of jumping pictures! An AMAZING DAY!!

The end product of all of their hard work! Ours is that exact plate, minus the seafood. So yes, just rice :)

The winning futbol team with our teammate (and first celebrity encounter) Kafu Bonton.

One of many amazing jumping pictures!

Hannah and I hanging out with Aussie Keith.

Sunday brought an early, wet boat ride back to Porvenir for another "Immigration" check. Luckily, the sun came out for the later half of the ride back, allowing us to dry off before getting on the awesomely air-conditioned bus! The driver stopped at Portobelo's fortress ruins that sit on the Caribbean - absolutely BEAUTIFUL! We said our goodbyes to Keith and headed back to Luna's Castle to organize our lives before our flight the next day. There were some street and market vendors in the main square of Casco Viejo, so we walked around a bit and bought empanadas made by a woman originally from Coral Gables, which reminded me of my FAMILY! Love that! We couldn't leave Panama City before a quick pickup game of basketball. As we approached the courts and sat on the bench, one guy asked if we were wanting to play - he literally walked on the court and stopped the game of 4-on-4 to allow us to join! It was refreshing to play again and with HANNAH - she is such a natural athlete and shocked the boys quite a bit!!!! One of the guys on her team, "Ruff Dad," was also a reggaeton artist! That was THE perfect way to end our time in Panama City!

THANK YOU CENTRAL AMERICA FOR ALL THE EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE GIVEN US AND THE LESSONS YOU HAVE TAUGHT US! WE ARE GRATEFUL!

Costa Rica - Pura Vida!

2011-09-06T20:33:00.000-04:00

August 31st - September 6th

On August 31, Hannah and I decided over the free French toast breakfast to go explore Costa Rica. Huge shout out to our parents for giving us the opportunities growing up that would eventually allow us to travel like we are currently - we think about this often!

Hannah and I hopped on over the border into Costa Rica, land of the"Pura Vida" mentality and lifestyle. We spent the evening in a town called Liberia, wandering the streets full of actual stores and slowly adjusting to the commercialism of this tourist-friendly country. The next day was a travel day (bus + car + ferry + bus = 10-plus hours) from Punta Arenas across Golfo de Nicoya to Montezuma, a very relaxed, hippie town on the beach where you are an obvious outsider if you don't have dreads. Decompressing from a travel day is much easier to do when you have a private room facing the ocean and a soundtrack of waves crashing against the rocks! Just sayin'. We wandered the "town" (town = two roads totaling about 300 meters) and, like moths to a lightbulb, found the grocery store in about 25 seconds flat. Trying our best to cope with the higher economy, we managed to make a somewhat gourmet dinner of mozzarella/tomato foccacia with a side of cucumber and avocado salad! Nom nom. Bananagrams and reading rounded out the evening quite well.

What is the most logical thing to do after roughly 14 hours of heavy rain? If you are thinking hike upstream to a set of waterfalls, then we welcome you to join us on our adventures! As per usual, Hannah and I set out for Montezuma Falls in flip-flops, only to realize the inappropriate footwear choice about 3 minutes into the journey. The current was quite strong at the intended river crossing area, so we headed upstream along the bank. Whether it was shuffling our feet along the rocky bottom of the river at a crossing or grasping for roots and low tree branches to keep from sliding off the steep, muddy trail, we looked...special. From a distance, one would probably have thought I dropped a contact and was frantically (and blindly) looking for it with the 'extended arms shuffle step' approach. After taking the steeper (and incorrect) trail option, we eventually became eye-level with the top of the main waterfall as it came into view. The thundering sound and sheer power of the water never ceases to amaze. With the help of the many trees and roots along the trail, we slowly made our way down to the base of the falls and sat to enjoy them for a bit. After taking the actual trail back, we decided to walk along the beach back to town and take in some different scenery. We could have sat and watched the huge waves crash up against the rock faces for hours, but the legitimate fear of a ninja crab staging a stealth attack kept us moving. There were SO many and they move alarmingly fast...but sideways and on the sides of vertical rocks? Though the walk from our hostel to the waterfalls trailhead was only about 10 minutes, we had walked a solid 90 minutes before realizing, "hey, do you think we passed the town?" The next person we passed informed us we were only 300 meters away from Playa Grande, which is about 5km north of Montezuma. Schwoops. When we finally did get back to town, we discovered the beach entrance to town was about 50 meters from where we decided to start our beach stroll. The rest of the evening consisted of watching the eight monkeys eat and play in the tree right outside our door...what? Where are we?!? After dark, we went to a restaurant with wi-fi and a free movie, ordered the cheapest drinks on the menu, and took turns smuggling food in from the neighboring supermarket once the lights had been turned down for "Inception." A sad site, but even our waiter appreciated our efforts and chuckled.

Looooong travel day on Saturday...or at least the 10 hour day seemed longer due to the fact the last 2 hours on the bus heading into Monteverde were done in first gear (lots of super steep roads). The day ended on a high note when, as soon as we stepped foot off the bus, we were offered a $7/night private room! Score! The next morning, Hannah and I had an adventure day full of adrenalin and vomit-inducing activities! First up was the canopy tour, which was a series zip lines of various lengths that included one 800-meter "Superman" style zip line and a "Tarzan Swing." After gearing up (side note: there is very little sexier than repelling gear), Hannah and I headed out on the course, soaring over Monteverde's lush mountainous landscapes. The zip lines themselves start short and get progressively longer the further you go. On the last zip line, your harness is flipped around so you are positioned belly down and parallel with the ground - not awkward or uncomfortable at all! Waiting to go, you feel like a pup that's being held in a mother's mouth, but once you get going, the position allows a completely different aerial perspective that one can't get any other way - very fun! The landing was a little rough...the only thing that come to mind is a crash test dummy with rag doll limbs flying all about (the fantastic picture below with Hannah in the foreground was taken solely to capture the landing of the person behind her).

...and then, the Tarzan Swing! Enough adrenaline to make you vomit. In short, you walk to end of a loose, swinging metal bridge to the "jump point," and as the name would indicate, you free fall until the swing mechanism decides to work. Hannah hesitantly strolled out on the bridge as the screams of the previous jumper echoed in the trees. Legs don't work so well when the adrenaline is pumping, so from a distance, I could only see Hannah shifting her weight from one bent, wobbly leg to the other. They started to get her all hooked up and then they beckoned me to start walking - I thought "yay, I can get a great aerial video of her..." blood-curdling SCREEEAAAMMMM accompanied Hannah's sudden absence from the end of the bridge! Ps...if you are ever hesitant about doing something crazy, volunteer to go first! Hearing other people (especially cool, calm, collected friends scream louder than you have ever heard anyone scream in your life) go before you will typically deter you from wanting to do your extreme activity, so just go first. So having heard that while feeling the bouncing and shaking of the suspension platform beneath me, I did my best to pull it together mentally. What doesn't help is getting to the end of the platform, where you can see how far up you are, and waiting...because a piece of harness broke!! All very reassuring things. Plus, your mind is focused on the task at hand...to have my limited Spanish knowledge tested with random phrases like "necesito una cable...este es rompio" really throws the psyche off...and allows nausea to build. Luckily, once they hooked me up to the new cables, they opened the little baby gate (the same "here we go" moment I would think a rider waiting atop his bull experiences as the gate swings open) and the weight of everything pulls you off the platform, leaving you minimal time to think about the situation at hand. According to Hannah, who was waiting at the bottom, my body made a whoooooshing sound as I silently fell through the air and swung back up. Good to know when faced with extreme challenges, I revert to silence. Afterwards, we gradually decompressed and our legs slowly got feeling back as we watched a few more people jump. We were entertained by the photos taken of us by a staff member for a half-hour before heading to off to our ATV adventure.

Believe it or not, this was taken AFTER we did it!

Bryan, our fearless and probably 17-year-old guide, led us through a series of terrain paths to test our driving and turning abilities. Hannah and I lucked out because we were the only two doing the ATVs...the smaller the group, the more you can do, always! So after 30-40 minutes of riding through mud puddles and around the terrain park, Bryan gave us the okay to move ahead. He took along gravel, dirt, and grass pathways that winded through the farmlands and along the hillsides of the surrounding eco-reserves running throughout Monteverde. The views were UNREAL...the position Bryan assumed for a good portion of the ride was stopped, looking over his left shoulder and waiting as we took tons of pictures! The clouds were thicker at the beginning of the ride, so when Bryan would take a turn, he would momentarily disappear into the white abyss, which just enhanced the already-enchanting morning we'd had! Plus, being in a could makes primary things more magical - the outlines of trees became so much sharper and resultantly, the tree appeared more expressive. Nearly every time we would stop to take in the views, we would turn to Bryan and exclaim, "you live here, that is CRAZY!" Definitely one of the most memorable experiences to date on this trip!

After the adventures, we headed to Casa Amistad in San Jose, a peace-based hostel that hosted various peace-minded meetings of local Costa Rican Quakers and had a library full of books highlighting revolutionaries, martyrs, and pro-civil rights movements. Basically, everyone that passed through that house knew more that I did about....well, everything. It's as though they built this house for my friend Ashley! We met Andre, a Canadian born in Arlington, VA who lived in Peru for 5 years during his youth, lived in Cuba for a year while studying, and arrived to Costa Rica two days prior in order to teach English for a year - he kinda knows something about everything, especially relating to Latin American history and state of current affairs. These are the types of people you meet at Casa Amistad. The next morning, we toured a little bit of San Jose before meeting up with Andre at the Teatro Nacional, where pigeons literally fly at your face, to explore some more. We ate our first real Costa Rican meal (not the usual peanut butter and crackers) and spent hours in two great bookstores once the rain started to become more steady. One of them was a used bookstore that just had PILES of books everywhere - on the floor, in the corners, on the chairs, on top of the ones stacked in the shelves, on the checkout counter...AMAZING! Nothing like the smell of older books! As the rain died down, we headed back to the hostel to pack and get ready for another long overnight bus ride.

Next up, PANAMA!! Hope all is well with everyone back home...you are missed more than you know!

Isla de Ometepe and San Juan Del Sur

2011-08-31T01:17:00.000-04:00

August 27th - 31st

We headed out for a long day of travel after some quick errands and inquiring about Red Cross volunteering opportunities in Granada. Chicken bus to taxi to a very charismatic old tugboat-style ferry that took us across the HUGE Lake Nicaragua to Isla de Ometepe, a larger island consisting of twin volcanos, Ometepe and Concepcion. The ferry ride made the island appear magical...two humungous volcanos that just emerged from the water forming this crazy island! We shared a shuttle, or rather the tiniest little transport "van" we'd been in thus far, and headed towards Merida, the town furthest away from the port in which we arrived. We had been told the journey would be about 2 hours in total, but it didn't seem possible when almost 3/4 of ride had been completed in about 40 minutes - that was until we saw/felt the unevenness of the remaining unpaved...pathway? To call it a road would give you the wrong idea - you know the tracks they create for ATV tours or motocross, more like that. You can't help but giggle (pretty much the ENTIRE time) when you ride on something like that in a little 19-year-old, tin can of a vehicle, bouncing around uncontrollably while simultaneously being thrown from side to side. We almost got used to hearing the sound of the undercarriage scraping across the uneven, rock-ridden "road" below. Our lovely driver stopped to let us take some pictures of the beautiful landscape along the way and got us to our hostel in time to catch the sunset on the water! We settled in for the evening, attempted to buy dinner from their "supermarket," but realized that oversized machetes, second-hand clothing, and sandals that appear to have been attacked by the Bedazzler were not what we had in mind. On the walk back, Hannah nearly got clocked by a spastic mule who ran full speed from out of nowhere, causing a short bought of palpitations for the pair of us! We later learned that resident mule Fiona likes short sprints on the beach, scaring the crap out of visitors, and arriving uninvited to your dinner table - she takes to veggie burgers, rice, and chicken quite well.

Though not completely aware of what the island had to offer, we had planned to stay a few days. However, due to the ridiculous bug situation, our plans changed quickly. There were fly/gnats/ small bugs with an insane affinity to light bulbs EVERYWHERE! We found it difficult to speak without some flying into your mouth or breathe through your nose without bringing a few along with the air! We wiped our beds free of dead bug carcasses but found them to be covered once again within 30 seconds. Though we are by no means high maintenance travelers, we had a few diva moments about the bug situation. Getting upset never resolves anything, so our solution was to bust out the sweet mosquito nets Hannah brought back with her! The ones we have must be for king-sized beds because when we finally figured out how to hang them, we felt like princesses in our own forts of bug protection. They work so well! In the morning, in one of my smart-ass moments, I said while grabbing the shorts sitting in the top of my bad, "hey, lemme just shake the dead carcasses out of my pants!" As I did, a gigantic 5-inch scorpion flew out of my shorts and hit the floor with a sound similar to what a set of acrylic nails tapping on a desk makes, and then scurried across the floor out of sight! Umm...AHHHH! Probably the only time my wiseassness has ever saved me from a potentially horrific situation! At that point, our casual preference of leaving the island quickly morphed into an urgent necessity - we did by way of a chicken bus that took 3 hours to traverse the same and only "road." Though not exactly a cup of coffee, scorpions in the pants is definitely one way to jump start your day!

From ferry dock, we took a crowded collectivo ride to San Juan Del Sur, your ultimate surfer's destination where almost every store rents boards and the minimarts are well stocked with board wax and Pringles. After exploring the town in the rain, we made dinner and took in a movie to help recover from a long travel day. In the morning, we shoveled in our free breakfast (heck yea!) and headed to Playa Remanso with the crew from Arenas Caliente in hopes of learning to surf! We were given rash guard shirts and boards resembling small kayaks that we would barely carry.they had us practice getting up onto the board while still on land, but only 3 or x4 times before we all piled into the water. Hannah and I were actually able to get up on our second or third attempts, but staying up is a different story. Due to my fabulous upper body weakness, I was unable to propel myself forward while getting to my feet, so the majority of my weight landed on the back end of my board, allowing the front end to shoot to the sky! We each had a few long, solid runs while the instructors helped with wave selection and initial acceleration (aka, little push). We had always wondered what rash guard was and understood by minute 4 - the constant friction of your body rubbing against the top of the board actually causes this peticheael-looking rash on the skin having most contact with the boards. The most tiring and difficult aspect of surfing is fighting the large waves coming in that literally clean your clock each and every time. On average for the day, we probably aspirated 500ml and swallowed 1.5 liters of Pacific Ocean. Our success rate for catching waves drastically decreased when our instructors left after their two-hour guidance session. However, we discovered riding a wave into shore while lying prone on your board is equally fun as surfing, and much easier! Upon returning to San Juan, we took some smaller boards out to their beach to "practice"... apparently fiberglass boards are much more difficult to get up on due to their slipperiness. So, surf practice quickly became watch the sunset while using our boards as flotation devices! We felt total serenity amongst the pink, cotton candy-esque sky and setting sun, sound of crashing waves, smell of salty sand, and rocking sensation of the waves passing us that had not yet broken. Occasionally, we would "ride" belly down on a wave to shore, which ultimately became a spectacle for those on the beach - gringas bodyboarding on a surfboard. We had a BLAST and laughed constantly, which was only ever a problem when we'd fight the waves and inevitably swallow/aspirate more salt water because it'd be difficult to take a breath between giggles! Though calling it a success would be an overstatement, now when people ask us "oh, do you surf?", we can reply , "we tried it once!" Hannah and I have so much more respect for the difficulty of the sport/hobby of surfing. Completely knackered, we laid low for the remainder of the evening. The entire next day was a catch-up day for errands, journaling, and exploring the whole town.

NOT us!

Over breakfast, we decided to head to Costa Rica! So let the travel day commence! New country!

Leon and Granada

2011-08-26T14:57:00.000-04:00

August 22nd - 26th

Our first Monday morning in Leon started with free pancakes, or as we called them "dense, rubber flatties" due to their lack of a crucial 'rising' ingredient like egg or yeast. But we loved them all the same...because who doesn't love free stuff? Marcus, Hannah, and I walked around the center of town, taking in the Spanish colonial style architecture of the main cathedral and the amazing doors on each of the house fronts we passed along the way. Side note, if you are ever dripping sweat while walking around Nicaragua (aka all the time), just pop yourself right on into a bank - the most air-conditioned place we have come across thus far in our travels! Kinda amazing! After a brief altercation with a money exchanger in the streets, we found a supermarket with the cheapest prices to date! We stocked up on the goods and made the decision to do the afternoon volcano-boarding session.

Volcano-boarding you say? Heck yes! Hannah, myself, and another couple from DC piled into the back of a old-school Land Rover type of 4WD vehicle and headed down another fabulously bumpy road, this time sliding back and forth on the bench-like seating that ran parallel to the side panels of the car. During the drive and a few times after we parked, our guide Denilo tried to convince us to switch from the boards to the sit-down toboggans - he was successful with the other guy, but we cautiously stuck with our original decision. So we wedged our boards through the shoulder straps of our backpacks and headed up Volcan Cerro Negro, the second youngest volcano in Nicaragua and one of its most active, though the last significant eruption was in 1999. The actual ascent up the volcano wasn't bad at all, but it was difficult remembering that the boards (about the size of a snowboard but wooden with metal edges) strapped onto our backs gave us a wider turning radius than that which we were accustomed. Thus, there was lots of running into boulders, getting wedged between boulders, nearly falling as the wind caught our boards the wrong way and threw our balance off, hitting Hannah in the arm, back, and shoulder when we stopped for photos as I turned to tell her something, etc. There were gorgeous views of the linear arrangement of neighboring volcanoes and surrounding farmland that extended for miles, allowing us to see just how far the lava spread from the '99 eruption. Once at the top, the path itself looked identical to many sand dune tracks in the desert minus the black colored pumice stone-like volcanic rock bits. It never fails to amaze when you look at a crater, and this one was equally mesmerizing. After our customary jumping pictures, we started to suit up in our neon yellow and green onsie jumpers and elbow/knee/wrist guards...add a couple thick gardening gloves and chemistry goggles that you can't see anything out of and that is the equation for hotness. We looked...special. The 45-degree incline itself was quite intimidating, as was reminded to us during the whole 1.5-hour hike. So here we are, looking like ghostbusters with a wooden board strapped to our feet by old belts, staring down the volcano as the two riding the toboggans shot down and out of view in a matter of 20 seconds, and when we thought it couldn't get more ridiculous, a crowd of 30 or so locals had hiked up the volcano just to watch us crash and burn. Awesome. Hannah and I feel that somehow, and certainly not meaning to, we become spectacles wherever we go. It was VERY difficult...in snowboarding, you simply glide across the snow; in volcano boarding, your board is constantly slowed by friction from the volcano, and you eventually sink into the softer ground beneath you. For a moment, the thought of never reaching the bottom before the approaching thunderstorm washed us down the volcano definitely crossed my mind. However, after what seemed like hours but was more like 12 minutes, we reached the safety of flatter ground. We looked like chimney sweeps once we finished...volcanic ash everywhere. Ps, aspirating volcanic ash is uncomfortable - I tried to keep my mouth closed on the way down, but sometimes you just get caught up in the moment and talk to yourself, like "holy crap, why didn't we just go on the toboggans" or "why do we ever think things like this are a good idea" or "I wonder how bad it would hurt if I just stopped, dropped, and rolled."

Tuesday morning was fabulous and consisted of a birthday Skype session with my mom! Over the past few weeks, I have gotten a few people we've encountered along the way to participate in a birthday wishes video that I could send my mom in lieu of a tangible present...I think she got a kick out of it! The video had to better than her other present, a 5.8 earthquake in DC? Luckily, my parents are San Francisco veterans and handled this one with ease. Our new German friend Kristin, Hannah and I set out to explore the city for the rest of the day - visited the Ortiz-Gurdian Art Gallery, which had a good amount of classic paintings and a great collections of more progressive, modern art in an adjacent building. The multiple open courtyards throughout the exhibits helped to relax the atmosphere a bit and remind us where we were - can't say that you'd be able to find hundred-thousand dollar paintings in an open courtyard or in any non-temperature-controlled environment. After ducking into a supermarket to avoid another one of the awesome Nicaraguan thunderstorms and torrential downpours, we tried the spiky red fruit called rambutan, a close cousin of lychee, after instruction from a supermarket stocker who thought we were insane. Due to the fact we were finally in a city that has a cinema, we splurged and went to see "Super 8," which I found amusing for two reasons: superb acting and decent writing, and enjoying how Hannah and Kristin responded to the action/suspense parts of the movie...they couldn't sink further down into their seats if they tried. Hannah just shook her head into her hands when it was over.

We woke up with another roommate, a smaller scorpion that was just hanging out in the corner. The young man running the hostel that morning seemed surprised but, like a rockstar, calmly killed it with the end of a broom. Before heading to Granada, we stopped off at a pharmacy to grab something and have decided that THIS is the place to come I'd you ever need anything...all antibiotics, no need for a prescription, and Haldol and Ativan just chilling in the glass shelves. Granada...we cannot quite figure you out. If the grunginess, city-feel of Xela got together with the colonial sophistication of Antigua on a Caribbean vacation and had a baby, it would be Granada. Great architecture, great old buildings, characteristic house fronts, great sense of community, fun cafes, safe...r, good artistic community, hippies and horse-drawn carriages. Once the sun starts to set, all the locals bring their chairs outside on the front stoops and just enjoy life with their families and neighbors - they would probably do it all day long if it weren't so hot during the day! Ended the night with a phone call to The G-Funk, the one and only Grandma Ro! The entire next day was dedicated to walking, exploring, and as Hannah and I discovered, stopping every 15 feet to take a picture of cool door, an old bike, or people riding bikes Nica style (one person on the bar in the middle who sometimes steers, one person on the seat pedaling...variations include up to 4 people). The Old Hospital is a photographer's dreamland - faded and chipping paint off destructed walls...great for photoshoots. Ironically, it could now be the perfect place for squatters and druggies. We spent a good deal of time wandering around with a security guard who decided to stick close to us and tell us about the hospital's history. Granada's old train station provides great pictures as well, as it still has classic engine and caboose cars of various types of train. We walked until the sunset - though there was a cinema, the one movie listed was "Wnny Poo," so we decided to pass on that. Free call home, perfect end to the day!

We call this the "Tetanus Slide of Infectious Fun!"

On Friday, we shortly explored the Granada shore along Lago Nicaragua before spending the rainy afternoon indoors taking an art/mosaic class. Side note: watercolors and pastels are very difficult to work with...just saying. However, the light rain on the tin roof, open terrace, relaxing music, and doing something outside of our usual routine was refreshing! Towards the end of night, when relaxing, journaling, and reading, I tune out sometimes - one example: this girl next to me asked me "something something -iter?" "Am I a fighter?" Questioned look on her face, "something something -iter." " Am I a writer?" She shakes her head, holds a cigarette up to her mouth and fake smokes, "A lighter, el fuego, do you have one?" "Ohhhhhhh...no." These kind of interactions happen more often than I'd care to admit.

Ridin' Nica Style!

Next stop, Isla Ometepe! Colonial towns of Nicaragua, we like you lots!

Roatan and the Journey to Leon

2011-08-21T10:39:00.000-04:00

August 17th - 21st

Hannah and I headed to La Ceiba via a very secure, air-conditioned, comfortable bus shortly after our catch-up chat in the airport's food court. The most memorable part of La Ceiba was our taxi driver who can best be related to the shaved ice character on "Hawaii 5-0"...he was kinda classic! The other highlight was opening the package from my parents that Hannah brought with her - even though I knew exactly what was in it (as I has sent then a request list of things I needed), getting a package from home will ALWAYS be exciting!

In the morning, we took a ferry to Roatan in the Bay Islands and headed to the West End of the island. The weather was warm, the waters calm, and the vibe is probably always very relaxed - the perfect welcome back for Hannah! Roatan in a nutshell (initial thoughts/knowledge when arriving) = gorgeous waters, actual SAND on the beaches that was not black, 2nd largest reef system after the Great Barrier in Australia, lots of money (mainly into the boats but it is also a huge scuba-diving town...and that is just a pricey hobby), expensive (even for an island), primary language is English, filled with many foreigners (especially Australians) who traveled here years ago and never left! That afternoon, we actually went out on a boat with one of those Australian-turned-Roatanites to the Green Lighthouse reef to snorkel and explore the underwater world. Being exposed to that world is literally like "Finding Nemo" - it is a place I have such little knowledge about, so the entire experience is intriguingly disorienting...your mind nearly stops its current train of thoughts and all of your other senses become heightened. The serenity of it was only interrupted by the massive waves that deposited large amounts of saltwater into our snorkels and the jellyfish scattered throughout the area. At one point, our guide, who alerted us to cool things, pointed to a fish we had seen many times prior to that moment...I only realized he was pointing to a jellyfish right in front of us as I slow-motion Matrixed my hand about 2 inches above it! Yikes! The cadence of our exploring went from "la-di-da, fishy fishy" to "la-di-holy crap, what is that?" Nonetheless, we had a blast exploring the reef...and neither of us got stung! Baleadas (fluffy flour tortillas with beans, sour cream, and avocado) for dinner and lying on the docks to watch the stars for an hour rounded out the evening! In university, star-gazing was a pretty frequent occurrence, but it had been quite some time since I last focused all attention to the skies...I'm thankful we did that because it was relaxingly therapeutic to say the least!

You know those scooter scenes from "Dumb and Dumber?" Yeaaaa....that was 100% what we looked like all day Friday! We rented a scooter after passing a test...aka having a credit card, a license, and driving literally 10 feet down and back without crashing. At the final exchange, the man with a Caribbean accent handed us two bowl helmets and said, "now, they are expecting some bad weather later on so just be careful!" Filled with the pure joy and excitement of riding a scooter, we quickly reassured him and headed out to the explore the island! Driving with someone else behind you is nerve-wracking, and thus, you travel along at 10kph, take turns at a near standstill, and when feeling crazy you take it up to 15kph on the straight-aways. We mapped out a few stops along the road...post office, grocery store, and a dolphin museum. To our disappointment, a woman duped us into paying a $1 admission fee to a museum we thought was all about dolphins, but in reality was a museum of Roatan's history. Sadly, the obvious artifact descriptions, and by artifacts I mean pieces of ceramic bowls and a comb, made the exit sign one of the highlights. When we walked back outside, three huge displays about dolphins greeted us...shoot, a whole dollar, gone! Dork commentary: dolphins are AMAZING animals (based on what I learned from those displays)!

Later on, we sought refuge in a delicious bakery while a torrential downpour passed - there are worse places to be stuck than one that provides hot chocolate and croissants! When the rain died down to a tolerable level, we went back out on the road, Hannah now at the handlebars of "The Great Dilbertraus." Turns out both positions, driver and passenger, on a scooter are nerve-wracking! Though Hannah is a wonderful scooter-er, she only has two speeds: stopped and really fast, and relatively speaking, she will try to avoid the former at all costs. Luckily, Hannah handled the painful, stinging falling rain to the eyeballs quite well! I'd say on any given day, on a scale of 0 to ridiculous spectacle, Hannah and I usually live around 2 (mostly because we aren't Latino and Hannah has blue eyes). However, for a mental picture: two white girls in helmets that sit far back enough on their heads to be yamakas, soaking wet, faces twitching/heads retracting like turtles who've just tasted lemon for the first time with every heavy raindrop that was a direct hit to the eye (about every 2 seconds), rocking forward to "help" the scooter get up the hill, being honked at and passed by nearly every car on the island, and all with huge grins on their faces (unless the direct rain hits to the eyeball occurred every second, which prompted the same face a 3-year old kid would make if a sibling stole their new toy...yep, that revenge face). When the rain got really bad or if we needed a restroom, we would stop off - for us, it was a brand new 4-star resort very far off the main road and a huge supermarket. Either way, we'd walk in with our helmets still on, grins on our faces, making squishy noises with our soaking-wet sandals, and leaving a small linear trail of water (or small pool if we stood somewhere for longer than a few seconds) wherever we walked. We got lots of laughs both on and off the road - if we were pulled over taking pictures, some would slow down to make sure we weren't broken down, others (like the public transport buses) would slow down simply to take in the ridiculousness of the situation. Toward the end of the day, after passing all major "towns," we realized our tank was on E...actually, a little below the red E box. Luckily, there was one last gas station near the West End...which closed 15 minutes before we got there. We ended the scootering a bit early to conserve the little gas we might still have to reach the station in the morning. The remainder of the night was spent eating baleadas, journaling, and reading in new, dry clothing.

The next two days were traveling logistical nightmares. However, I had the disctinct honor of sharing a matrimonial suite for 300 lempiras with the one and only Hannah Smith...for 3.75 hours. In hindsight, I should have carried her across the threshold, but instead I carried the groceries and my baby bag. Regardless, the shorter version...Travel Day #1: check out from hostel, ferries currently not running to mainland, mission fill Dilbertraus: fail x1, barely make it to town (here is an idea, make the tank bigger than 1.27 gallons?), mission return Dilbertraus: fail x1.25 hours, must be on 2pm ferry and at 1:20 still no scooter rental guy, hand payment and keys to a neighbor who is on the phone with the owner, haul butt to docks, ROCKY ferry ride, research 1 hour on how to get to Nicaragua, have taxi driver tell us our plan sucks, sudden and drastic change in plans to take night bus to San Pedro Sula ("Fast & Furious 2" in Spanish, still awful), arrive at Honeymoon Suite around 10:30pm. Travel Day #2: 3:45am wake up call, reach bus terminal at 4:15am, told all tickets to Nicaragua on the 5am bus were sold out, new game plan to go through Tegucigalpa, wait outside other bus company's office until realizing the only day there were not buses was our day, try our best to avoid the loud, rude, and demanding Israeli girls who somehow kept following us, try not to hit anyone when girls push us out of the way at the ticket window to get theirs first, Zen breath, get tickets on the 6am, befriend a Honduran woman who kept losing important things (phone, passport, etc), reach last stop in Tegucigalpa and "Amazing Race" it to the bus terminal to beat out the other girls (PS, we would rock that show), wait x4 hours, Zen breath when Israeli girls were in our seats, loooong ride, take all bags with us to be searched at the border, wait 1 hour for liason to return our passports. The highlight was meeting Marcus, the cutest and kindest red-headed Scottish boy we've ever met! Also, our hostel had no dorm beds available so we had to share a private room price (more expensive)...until the hostel owner was showing us our "private bathroom" and couldn't get the door open, so he turned and said, "I will charge you dorm prices." Haha.

We look forward to exploring Leon and everything Nicaragua has in store for us! Miss you all back home, stay safe in the crazy string of natural disasters that seems to be attacking the east coast!

The Solo Road to Honduras

2011-08-17T18:55:00.000-04:00

August 10th - 17th

The road alone is definitely different and I miss having Hannah to laugh with at ridiculous situations, as this week brought many. Have I become a dependent traveler? Yikes! However, when Hannah left El Salvador to head north, I headed west...far west. A trip to Mexico really should not be a spontaneous, unplanned one - did you know Mexico is quite large? Apparently, I did not. After a long, pseudo-air conditioned 12 hour ride, during which my time was passed having N/V/D, we reached the border! Cliff Notes version of my hours in Mexico: make the border patrol shake his head at me when I pronounced Oaxaca exactly as it is written and not how it is actually pronounced (wa-hawk-ah); get to Tapachula and discover it is another 12 hour, expensive bus ride; due to feeling like crap and not wanting to spend a half week's budget on a bus that would bring me exactly 12 hours further away from where I needed to be 6 days later, Guatemala became my fallback destination; a serious lack of budget choices brought me to an air conditioned hotel room with TV, where my amusement came from watching dubbed Hawaii 5-0; a near 2 hour excursion to find a post office and stamps became an epic fail, but with great chocolate chip ice cream; public bus it to the border, get DUPED by a pedi-cab for 5 pesos to go exactly 1.5 blocks, and be so annoyed that I refuse a ride that would have actually been amazing - turns out the bridge to the Guatemala side is about 1 km (and with 90-degree weather and turtling it, I would have paid); looking like a hot and sweaty mess, tears begin to form in the corners of my eyes when the border man tells me I must remain outside of the country for 72 hours before re-entering - probably because I looked like a homeless, frumpy girl who may have started crying in his office, he simply looked away while stamping the passport; another man who took pity drove me to the bus station as to avoid another 2km walk - ps, trying to support your own body weight on the back of a small moped is difficult by itself, but then add the turtle and you get a serious abdominal workout. Now back in Guatemala, a familiar stomping ground, Xela became the destination of choice.

Friday was a simple travel day to Antigua and lots of errand-running upon arrival. Saturday was just one of those days where everything seems to be in balance and you become a sponge for experiences that occur during the day. The day began with a kilometer walk from where the bus dropped me off to my actual destination, Valhalla Macadamia Nut Farm. Being the only one of its kind in Guatemala, an early retirement couple from California brought and planted 350,000 macadamia nut trees that would provide the people of the area with cleaner air, vitamins and omega acids that they lacked from the current diet, and a more lucrative export to support the local economy. Smaaaarrrrtttt. And, you really haven't eaten a macadamia until you've had a fresh one...what a difference! Enjoyed their most popular breakfast (for good reason!) of macadamia nut and flour pancakes with macadamia butter, blackberry jam, and honey from bee on the premises. Had a great conversation with Jose, my personal tour guide for the morning, about the sustainability of this farm and its positive effects on him and the people of his community. Such a genuine man - he told me "life is about our interactions with others, not with money or other things; now I know you and you know us, our house is your house." Jose, you are SO wise!
When I arrived back to Antigua, I stumbled upon a benefit concert supporting a company called "Los Ninos de Bendicion," which funds the education of more than 15 children from a local pueblo called San Antonio Aguascalientes. Due to the fact that Los Ninos also educates the children about their Mayan heritage, the concert consisted of older children playing the instruments (drums and marimba) and about 10 younger children performing six Mayan folk dances in the traditional outfits of various regions of Guatemala. Umm, ADORABLE! Also, props to the organization who fosters the education of their ancestry. It provided me the first true time seeing children being children, and it truly was lovely to watch. After the concert, I had the opportunity to speak to this woman who is an inspiration in a way - later in life, she lived a dream she had always had, to live and work in another country. Now she lives in Antigua and teaches English in Guate after just packing up shop in the States! Amazing.

On the way to Rio Dulce, I met a Malaysian woman, Alice, who became my traveling partner for my few nights in the area. We stayed in a hostel that rested on stilts in the middle of the water, similar to buildings in Venice. There was a resident boa constrictor and a river view restaurant a our hostel on the quiet side of the river. The other river bank had the main drag - cantinas, banks, restaurants, and travel agent companies . All in all, beautiful view to wake up to and a great introduction into the river towns of northeast Guatemala. A smooth, non-vomit-inducing lancha ride up the river brought us to Livingston, our first experience of Garifuna culture - the west African slaves on the boats from Europe settled in Roatan, east Belize, and here. They speak English like Rastafarians, in addition to speaking Spanish and their own language, and usually have a smile from ear to ear as they drum their hearts out to various Bob Marley classics. We stayed there a couple days and had a long walk along the trash-ridden beaches (as our Garifuna friend so accurately put it, "an absolute disgrace man") to Las Siete Altares, seven tiers of great emerald green pools separated by sloping rocks. At the top, there is (supposed to be) a waterfall...in our case, it was simply a larger, more dramatic rock that had a leaking problem. The weather is generally super hot and muggy all day long, gets less hot and humid starting around 6pm. The bugs are VORACIOUS! After the first night in Livingston, the worst I've had thus far, I awoke with large red bites all along the right side of my face, neck, and shoulder - the temperature underneath the sheets was enough to cause a syncopal episode, so I created a little breathing pocket for myself...of which every bug on the planet was informed. Leprosy...check. Malaria...highly probable. Making two children and three adults scream from disgust by 9am...check. Oh Livingston.

On Wednesday, I had some very important cargo to pick up in Honduras...HANNAH! Although we make great travel partners, our communication with each other when separated is pretty pathetic. Both of our families can attest to that, as they were the ones who inevitably informed me of the time and date of her arrival...at approximately 9:30pm the night before. We swear it is better when we are together! The path to get to Honduras is relatively straightforward, unless you miss the first boat for a town further up the river, like I did at 6:31am. It was pulling away as I ran with my huge bag onto the dock, so I waited for the nextf one that left an hour later. Heavy rains and thunderstorms rolled in as we pulled away from the docks...we were all soaking wet by the time the lancha broke down! Enter lancha #2 and an hour delay. After arriving at Puerto Barrios at 8:53am, the second collectivo bus driven by the slowest motor vehicle operator in Central America then took about an hour to go less than 20 kilometers.
By the time I walked across the Honduran border and waited another 17 minutes for change from paying my entrance tax, it was 10:23! Little to no hope of arriving on time, and of course we hadn't discussed what to do if I wasn't there to meet her. Time was of the essence and I had to say something that would elicit some help..."I have a flight that departs at 12:30 from San Pedro!" It just popped out, and remarkably, was somewhat true? Following that statement, the 7 border patrolmen were out to find me a ride, after they asked me many questions about the current state my face was under. My savior came in the form of a young Guate native woman, her Italian friend, and a brand new Kia. After about 5 minutes of interrogation and car searching, the patrolmen smooth-talked their way into getting me a ride! Shout out to everyone involved in that epic event! Had she not given me a ride, I would have had to take 4 different chicken buses and a taxi only to arrive to the airport 2 hours after Hannah anticipated she'd leave for Ceiba. The ride itself was language heaven - she spoke Spanish very clearly and her friend spoke only Italian, so I could actually understand everything and even contribute conversation. Once in San Pedro Sula, she did get lost four different times, but we arrived at 12:41! I'm so grateful for her generosity and the massive detour she took from her hotel in order to drop me off at the airport.

Luckily, the airport itself probably consists of two or three gates, so I asked the closest human if a flight from the states had already arrived. As I walked away from him, I heard my name and whipped around to see a rejuvenated, glowing Hannah as we did the slow "Baywatch" run towards each other! Two things: when both parties of a hug are turtling it, the hug itself is somewhat awkward as it's difficult for your arms to even reach the other person; and it was more of a Baywatch speed walk than a run. I'm so thankful and happy to have Hannah back so we can continue to laugh at the crazy situations that come our way!

El Salvador

2011-08-10T22:41:00.000-04:00

August 5th - 10th

Our trip to El Salvador from Antigua was pretty uneventful until we reached the border. So in theory, when one is traveling between countries, an entry and exit stamp for each country is required. On a rare and very unfortunate occasion, especially if traveling by boat or train, officials may forget to stamp your passport to show you entered the country. This is only a problem when you try to leave that country, much like a Canadian girl who was on our bus discovered. The charismatic, jovial driver who literally knew everyone we had passed on the journey (and we would learn everyone in El Salvador as well) schmoozed his (and her) way through the border by blending her in with the crowd who was leaving the window. In short, we started the journey into a new country by smuggling someone else illegally into El Salvador. Sweet. Pretty certain that wouldn't happen as easily in the States, just saying.

We headed to El Tunco, a very famous beach known internationally for its excellent surf. A couple of things about the "beaches" here: the little sand that is present mainly in the water is black and the layout area is its own sea of smooth, large rocks. Not much sandy area. However, the waves were powerful and one can see immediately why surfers love it. After a long swim/"stand there and try not to get pummeled by the waves or get caught in the undertow" session, we enjoyed the salty air smell, slight breeze, and island tunes from a beach side restaurant. We ordered sodas to officially celebrate our 1 month of traveling (we only realized when looking at our exit stamp from Guatemala that the day itself was the same as the entry stamp) and a banana split :) However, when the bill came, we were $0.05 short. Now, normally that isn't a huge deal, but we don't know how people here would respond. Hannah and I have always joked that I could sell the bag of lollipops that I purchased while in Xela if things got ugly. Well, luckily I had a few in my bag...and to the beaches I went calling out like a professional vendor. A nice family denied the lollipops but gave me the nickel! How amazingly generous these people are - not for the five cents - but we have repeatedly encountered so many people who go the extra length to help you, and from this end it is greatly appreciated! We took in some live music and poor food choices once the sun set. The place where we ate was basically run by children, as is a large majority of establishments. Sadly, kids do not have the opportunity to be kids because there simply is not time and families need all the help they can get just to survive. However, watching a child with heap tons of attitude put disrespectful or cheating people in their place is pretty amazing.

After waiting a couple hours, we finally found a ride to San Salvador, the connector city to Suchitoto. How cheap are we? We took an overcrowded, hot, "try to balance while turtling it and not fall over when the 12-year-old driver takes his tight corners" ride on a crosstown public bus because it was $0.20 and the taxis were only offering it for $4. Yep, that cheap. We made the connection and arrived at Suchitoto, a small, colonial, very artsy and progressive mountain town situated on Lake Suchitlan where the people are helpful, the food is delicious, and the doors are amazing. Hannah and I have a thing for bikes, trucks, doors, and windows. We spent the day getting lost and exploring - for the first time in a while, our shoulders were relaxed, our pace was leisurely, and we did not have the desire to look over our shoulders every block or so. The town itself is a higher class than we have been used to and often serves as a weekend getaway for many El Salvadorians - thus, Hannah and I were some of the more poorly dressed of the bunch! Now, that is not really new for me (in general), but it is the first time we actually recognized it! Due to the fact we had almost all of the day to explore and most things were open, we made a spontaneous decision at breakfast to move onto Santa Ana.

Standing up on a bus while turtling it is DIFFICULT. Add to the mix drivers who have the desire to speed but are given old school buses from America to work with and you have fast lane changes, unnecessary braking and accelerating, and close call passes into oncoming traffic. So, at one point on the bus ride back to San Salvador, the driver made a sharp right THROWING Hannah and I onto the people sitting on the left side of the bus. Apparently, Hannah fell slightly onto the oldest woman on the bus and a middle-aged woman who was diving to protect the elderly woman. Unfortunately, I did not see ANY of it because I too wiped out. The majority of my turtled weight fell on a young gentleman sitting in the aisle seat while my flailing upper body hit an elderly woman and my head being stopped by the window. Now, if that isn't bad enough, my legs totally came off the ground and as they did, the left hit a fellow stander in the knee and the right hit another (male) stander in the groin-ish area. As if the only two gringas basically in the town of Suchitoto (there was only one other white female that I saw) now with extremely large backpacks on trying to fit onto a local bus wasn't spectacle enough, that happened. Sheeeeooooot. I'm almost certain I've never apologized that much to anyone...about 20 times immediately after it happened and q2minutes for the duration of the ride. Every time I did, the older woman would wave her hand in a "forget about it" motion but then would bring it immediately up to her right shoulder and start rubbing it while wearing a sad face. YIKES! Today, our mission to help others has failed miserably, unless after that people were then thinking "well, at least we aren't those two." After that excitement, the connection to Santa Ana from San Salvador was boringly uneventful.

Santa Ana is a grid-format city that feels a lot like parts of Brooklyn, the ones with lots of abandoned car parts-like stores. Unfortunately, it was Sunday and hard to gauge whether this was the norm or simply because 1 in 30 stores is open on Sundays. When we found Casa Verde, there were angels singing in the near distance. Carlos, the lovely owner of this amazing hostel has literally thought of everything a traveler would need. Individual lock boxes, reading lights, and fans for each of the beds he had (all twin beds, no bunks), free internet, all the useful information one could need, laundry area, 3 lounge areas, a DVD selection for you to choose from, a kitchen to use, free clean water, and if you are lucky like we were, a free pasta dinner the first night! This places was SPOTLESS! We didn't even check for chinches! A diamond in the rough would be an understatement. A huge thanks to Carlos for such a lovely hostel/Santa Ana experience. Regrouped with an actual lunch that included a carrot-apple beverage in which those two foods and ice were the only ingredients. Phenomenal, I suggest everyone try it at home...unfortunately, if it is not good, it's probably operator error! Watched "Man Without Limits," a crazy movie about a drug manufactured to allow the use to access all parts of his/her brain and reach endless possibilities in life. A very interesting and thought-provoking movie that kinda left us not accessing any part of our brain :)

After a somewhat panicked rush to find a bus that would take us to the National Park of Volcanoes (Cerro Verde, Santa Ana, and Izalco), we arrived in time for the guided hikes. Due to the fact our main purpose of coming to Santa Ana was to see the turquoise pool (its color made by the combination of sulfur and the minerals within the land/crater) that lies within the Santa Ana crater, it was an obvious choice which hike to choose. There was a slight scare when we were told the hike to Santa Ana may not be possible, as they go on a majority-rules basis and no other person in the parking lot was hiking it. After seeing the disappointment on our faces, Elizabeth, who would become our personal guide, decided she could take us up! We first headed down Cerro Verde and then climbed Santa Ana with Elizabeth and our two personal armed security guards, Nelson and Eliseo (not sure about that last one). What an amazing experience to have with such a small group of people! The views of Izalco and Lago Santa Ana were phenomenal, and we arrived to the summit just before the clouds rolled in. Approaching the crater was so disorienting...you are almost hypnotized by the magnificence of the layered crater and the color of the mineral pool that lies within before you realize how close you are to the edge. It literally distracts you from reality for a moment! There were horizontally running sections of different colored rock throughout the depth of the crater, similar to the age rings of a tree - I've not ever seen so many different colors of rock from one structure! Once the clouds rolled in, it was just our outlines and the crater...a unique sensation for sure. Our strong guards helped us descend slightly to another solid rock for some amazing photos, which I will share as soon as this website allows me to upload images. The people we went with truly made that experience even better and more memorable, if that is possible. Additional plus, we spoke more Spanish in that four hour hike than we had the 4 days prior, or so it felt! After another lovely evening at Casa Verde, a friend of Carlos gave us a ride to the bus stop - one of the most honest and helpful people we have come across.

We returned to San Salvador the next day, solely because all international bus rides to Hannah's departure city originated there. To be fair, we did not explore much of San Salvador, but it does not seem to be a necessary stop on one's travel itinerary. Hannah and I stayed in a legitimate HOTEL with AIR CONDITIONING, towels, and the lot. A very energetic and kind man named Nelson drove us to the bus station to make reservations. Side note: When taking an international bus ride, bring your passport with you when making the reservation or buying the ticket. Needless to say, Nelson got a double fare, but charged us less because he is just that kind of guy! He was the highlight of San Salvador by far. We have his card in case anyone is headed this way - he will take care of you! I felt a little sad knowing Hannah and I would be headed separate ways in the morning, but I am excited she gets to see those she loves. Luckily, it is only one week before we reunite in Honduras. In the meantime, I made a very spontaneous decision to go to Mexico, possibly to catch up with Michelle, so let us see how this goes!

Lago de Atitlan y Chichicastenango

2011-08-04T19:08:00.000-04:00

August 1st - 4th

We finally reached the LAKE!!!! It has been on the to-do list since we arrived and we can now cross it off :)

Let us just say, the first day was ROUGH! Hannah and I arrived to Santiago Atitlan after a long chicken bus ride, greeted by fireworks that were set off less than 5 feet away from us. Let's just say even if you know it is coming (and we had NONE whatsoever as we were distracted by a procession of masked individuals), it´s still cardiac arrhythmia-inducing. We took a psuedo-motorized boat ride to San Pedro, tuk-tuk'ed to the other barcadero, and rode another boat to San Marco, where we had planned to stay the night. Mind you, this is all while it was down-pouring - yay wet season. Once on the docks of San Marco, we were greeted/bombarded by small children claiming to be our tour guides who would escort us to our hostal for a small fee. On another day, it could have been endearing, but as my travel companions can attest to, things need to move quickly once my rucksack is on or you may see another side of me. After about 5 times of saying nicely "no gracias, no necisitamos un guia," I cracked a little when he asked for money (as we were turtleing it - large rucksack on the back, smaller daypack on the front, bags in each hand - WADING through muddy, puddle-laden pathways while fending off mosquitoes) - I may have said something to the effect of "FOR WHAT? Why would I give you money, you didn't do anything except walk slowly in front of us and continue to bother us when we told you we didn't need a guide!" Schwoops...I definitely got an F for "cultural sensitivity" at that moment. We got to the hostal, dripping all over the floor, and began our usual inspection for bedbugs. I cannot say for certain that there were bedbugs, but there were many visible bugs crawling on our sheets and pillowcases, thus making our decision to go to Panajachel that much easier. A very interesting Montrealite distracted us with conversation about the purity of walking as a main mode of transportation...yep...and then we found ourselves RUNNING to catch the last boat to Pana, set to leave 30 seconds after we began retracing our muddy steps. I honestly do feel that an obstacle course race while people are turtleing it should be a new Olympic sport, if for no other reason than the sheer entertainment it would provide viewers. So back to the dock, to wait for one last possible boat since we missed the one we were running to catch. Know what is awkward? Waiting in the rain while the boy you didn't give money to earlier talks about you with his fellow dock friends, while continuing to ask for American money now claiming it is for a school project. Yeaahhh...that went on for about 27 minutes and finally two boats showed up simultaneously. Being that the boat to Pana was full, we quickly adapted and decided San Pedro really had to be better than San Marco. While searching for a hostal once we arrived, we rounded a corner and quite literally saw a beacon of light. It was...drumroll...a HOTEL!!! Mainly due to our state of desparation, we asked how much it would be for a room - Q100, or the equivalent of about $13 in total. Mom and Dad, you would be soooo proud! Nahual Maya Hotel had clean and bug-free beds, our OWN bathroom, toilet paper, SOAP, our own TOWELS, a TV, and HOT WATER!!! We kinda felt like royalty. Basically, we ran out for our first real food of the trip (non-rice and bean dish) to get falafel and hummus, and returned immediately to spend the rest of the evening in our sweet HOTEL room!

Hannah and I awoke different people, bright-eyed, clean and ready to embrace San Pedro! A nice dose of fresh squeezed orange juice can't hurt as well! Sadly, our sweet hotel was only available for one night, so moving on was in our near future. Our main goal of the morning was to walk around, explore the art galleries and their beautiful central park (their fountain not only had actual water in it, but fish, turtles, and lobster as well), and find the post office. There were about 4 different sets of directions to the post office, the last two being from each of the post office's neighbors - I usually pride myself for having a pretty decent sense of direction but at times I just have to question that. Luckily, Hannah has an amazing sense of direction as well...that also had a glitch for about 8 minutes while trying to locate stamps. Then, KAYAKING ON THE LAKE!! We got in some kayaks made of a material that I can most closely parallel to paper-mache and headed out to explore the banks of pueblos on the water. Sitting on tranquil waters with a 360° panorama of volcanic and mountainous shores was nothing short of amazing. That may be one particular time where you catch yourself not thinking and just appreciating the moment. We returned to shore and headed back to get our bags from the hotel, thinking things really couldn't get better. The owner of the hotel then casually mentioned having an apartment with a lakeside view that he'd give to us at the same price for another night...umm, slight glance over at Hannah's smile growing, and YES PLEASE!! This day went down as "highly unlikely to happen again," but we loved every minute of it while it was happening. The rest of the evening consisted of organic hummus and cracker eating, journaling, staring at local fisherman as they practiced their art along the shoreline in front of us, and getting organic coffee (for Hannah) at a fair trade cafe. Over coffee/hot chocolate, we decided to celebrate our one month of traveling by heading to a new country! Who does that? Ultimately, it became a day that will hold a special place in our hearts for a while.

Great breakfast with FRUIT, yogurt, and granola, a long but happy goodbye to "our" lakeside apartment, and on the boat to Panajachel. So, the 10-15 passenger transport boats have an outboard motor, bleacher-like seats in the middle and a small bow for people to sit on (weather-permitting). Small confession - being someone very prone to seasickness, I may or may not have had to look up what the front of the boat is called on a "Boat Safety For Kids" website. Having a keen ability to pick the worst possible seats in whatever mode of transport we're on at the moment, we chose to sit on the bow to celebrate the sun's presence. The mistake was realized only about 5 minutes into the near 30-minute ride as we were thrown into the air and slammed down into the boat as the bow met the rather uncalm waters. Possible spinal compression? In all seriousness though, we were very thankful we didn't go overboard and I was equally thankful for my new focus on staying in the boat to distract me from my nausea :) The scenery was breath-taking...how are there rows of crops on a mountainside of 50°? Dork reference: It reminded me of what the Shire was described to be in Lord of the Rings. Arriving in Panajachel, we settled into another private room (we were on a roll) and headed out to explore. That evening, we met up with Kira, a friend we met in Antigua, and her friend who had come to visit and volunteer her vetranarian skillset to a non-profit that works with the homeless animal population. After a good dinner, we hung out at their apartment with Smokey, a mutt recovering from surgery after being hit by a car. If only we weren't traveling, and if they didn't cost money or require responsiblilty, I'd adopt that cute dog in a heartbeat.

On Thursday, we headed up to Chichicastenango for one of the largest markets in all of Guatemala. The ride up the mountain provided some spectacular views of the lake on one of the clearest days we'd seen yet. Chichi is overwhelming for about 27 seconds before you realize the majority of vendors are selling the same things. If you like table runners, blankets, placemats, miniatures of chicken buses, or machetes, this is the market for you! Unfortunately, we were stuck there until the bus left at 2pm, so we walked up and down every side street exploring the actual town of Chichi outside of the market limits. We stumbled across the cheapest supermarket to date! Our idea of exciting may be slightly different than yours, but we lived it UP - we both drank sodas to commemorate 31 days of travel! Some call us party animals, call us what you like. Another celebratory move was buying four "helado pops" (a little ice cream in between to round cookies, then dipped into chocolate in its entireity)...to make it less obvious that we were eating our way through Chichi, we made passes by the helado-pop guy, who probably recognized us by the second round. So two rules for Chichi: go on a chicken bus so you can leave when you feel like doing so AND don't feel bad about haggling. Here is one example during the day...
Hannah: "Cuanto cuesta?" (regarding a pair of earrings)
Vendor: "Q75"
Hannah: "Gracias" while walking away
Vendor: "Cual es su precio?"
Hannah: "Q20"
Vendor: "Q30"
Hannah: "Q25"
Vendor: "Esta bien!"
They overcharge expecting you to barter because the shop down the street sells the same for Q20. In less than about 10 seconds, the price was a third of its original. These guys are good! And the other tourists that fall for it and don't barter...thank you for supporting Chichi's economy. On the way out of town, a man on the street asked the driver if he was going to Antigua. Seeing as we were headed to Antigua, I waited until the man in the street has passed before confirming with the driver "we are going to Antigua, right?" A huge grin formed on his face as he gave an emphatical "Si!" Classic! The ride back to our home away from home Antigua allowed us to create a new game called "drive-by shootings," in which we snag the best possible photos of people on bikes, chicken buses, and daily life while going 50mph. A less "Grand Theft Auto" title for the game is in the works. In Antigua, we caught up with friends, family, and loved ones and spent the remainder of the evening decompressing in our own private dorm room!

On Friday, EL SALVADOR...and our first border crossing!!! Let's see how this goes! Miss and love everyone!

Back to School, Back to School

2011-07-31T20:52:00.000-04:00

July 25th - 31st

Back to school at Guatemalensis in Xela on Monday where I met my teacher, Anna Lucia. Similar senses of humor are kinda crucial for these types of relationships - that, patience, and a decent understanding of charades and grand hand gestures, all of which she had. Once again, pretty intense conversation topics were discussed in the first few hours, mainly regarding reasons for Guatemala's current healthcare system and main areas of improvement (from the point of view of a single mother with a 22-month old son). How does that keep happening? What happened to that whole 'what's your favorite color' conversation? I might actually be able to contribute to that one! Afterwards, I met my Señora and she led me to her house so I could drop the bags off and grab some food before heading back for our first school outing. Nora, our school director, took Hannah, myself and the other student from Austin to San Cristobal, a neighboring pueblo that was hosting a carnival-type fair with man-propelled rides, food, games, local Mayan products and the works. At one point, we stopped to observe the "Baila de Conquistara" (about the Spanish invading Guatemala) - in theory, probably a very serious dance and tradition. In reality, however, it was a group of men dressed in very heavily decorated outfits doing roughly the same dance, but at very different times and speeds, allowing us to question whether drinking was involved prior to the big show. It began raining during the "show," so Hannah took shelter less than 5 yards away from us under a tarp. About four minute later, the "show" ended (thank goodness) and Hannah came to us with a puzzled look on her face while clutching her bag. "Someone cut a hole in my bag!" Sure enough, there was a significant linear cut through the side of her bag, which she realized when she looked down and saw her Spanish dictionary and workbook sticking out. Luckily, nothing was stolen...I guess the psuedo-thief realized, "sheeeeooooot, I already know Spanish!" Oh goodness. Consoled ourselves with rotillos (fried plantain with some black beans in the middle) and cotton candy...as one does. Once back in Xela, I walked back down my street only to realize I had NO IDEA where the house was exactly. Within about 29 seconds and after two failed attempts to open other doors, four neighbors were out with me asking very basic questions in attempt to help me...like, "what is the name of your school?" and "what is the name of your Señora?" Both very valid questions, yet no answers. So, they decided to go door-to-door. Luckily, door #1 was the correct one and the first words out of a neighbor's mouth was, "Do you know this lady? She didn't know your name at all." Hey thanks, because that entire situation wasn't embarrassing enough, but now it gets to be awkward for the next few days also...cheers.

Tuesday brought school with our Xelapan and tea during our break :) and a trip to Fuentes Georginas, a natural hot springs and sauna whose heat originates from the active volcano! After recalling the last time I sauna-ed it and the subsequent syncopal episode (and reading the fine print of my traveler's insurance), I decided to sit this one out. The time was spent learning chistes, or jokes, from Nora, who is always saying something to lighten the mood. Attended a "Massage for Travelers" class with Michelle, where we learned how to relieve neck tension. We (could have just been me) had a transient lapse in maturity and found the majority of the lesson somewhat hysterical...especially with references to PAC Man as a valid hand movement :) Afterwards, we met up with some of her friends had some hot chocolate in a rooftop terrace restaurant that overlooked Parque Central. It was lovely to experience the mood of the park without actually having to face the anxiety and potential danger of being in it after dark. Another girl and I shared a Q30 cab for safety purposes (still heeding caution Mom and Dad!), but running, the other option, is free. Just sayin'.

Is it possible that I am getting stupider as the week of school progresses? Maybe that's what Wednesdays are for...doubting your ability to speak any language! Seriously, at times Hannah and I feel that not only is our Spanish plateauing but our English is getting worse as well. Today, for instance, I forgot the word for "lobster" when I saw one. It usually takes the two of us to think through something to get it...so when we return, please be patient, as we will not be able to speak Spanish or English. But darn if we won't be AMAZING at charades! With those feelings, we skipped out on salsa lessons to study...and by study, I mean Hannah studied while I journaled. What makes anyone feel better? Chocobananas and good company. So, that is what we did with Michelle...stuff our faces with cheap chocobananas. Guatemala, we love you for many reasons, but these pieces of goodness are near the top of our list for sure.

On Thursday, my teacher did confirm that my Spanish was getting worse, to an extent. Haha. So we decided to break up the monotony with a little Spanish Scrabble...and a win for the gringa! After one of the bumpiest access roads in all of Xela (and that is saying quite a bit), we reached San Andres Xecul, a nearby pueblo known for it's insanely colorful churches. They didn't disappoint - it was an explosion of primary colors coming at you from every direction. Inside looked similar to most others - religious statues and relics, ornate altars, beggars hassling you because you're white, etc, etc. The town itself was absolutely gorgeous - the majority of the streets in the town were on 45-50 degree inclines, allowing for great views of Guatemala's western highlands. There was a smaller prayer church near the top of the town that we walked/hiked to that provided the best views..and the highest heart rate of the week! We were entertained on the walk down by a young boy holding a huge umbrella over himself and a very small girl dressed in her huipil and corte (traditional garb)...adorable! Later that night, we had all planned to meet and go to the advertised National Symphony Orchestra play at Teatro Municipal. So Nora, her son, and the three of us students walked all the way up there to be greeted by a group of about 15 other extranjeros who looked equally confused by the locked doors and absence of light in the theater windows. Apparently, the musicians were protesting against the difficulties they faced when crossing borders? Whaaaaaaat? Anyways, we then turned to movies as our new form of entertainment - watched a really good film about border crossing (theme of the night) called "Bajo La Misma Luna," and I probably understood about a quarter of what was said. Not bad!!

It is only customary that Bananagrams were played on the last day of school! Upon returning to the house for lunch, I was greeted by a Japanese woman who was a new student beginning the following week. She knew heap tons more Spanish than I do, but spoke it with a Japanese-like delivery? Nora called it Japonol! Lunch was kinda rough, as I was just repeatedly reminded by my Señora and her daughter of how much more Spanish the Japanese girl knew and how she spoke it markedly better than I did. Whomp whomp. To distract from my recently bruised ego, Rolando, Nora, and the three of us went bike riding through the farmlands that rest at the base of the volcano on the outskirts of Xela. Yep, we sure did. The tires were half flat before we left, but it became quite clear why once we turned onto the uneven cobblestone street outside of their house. The bike was also set on the easiest possible gear to accommodate the hilly terrain, so the entire ride I just kept hearing the music from the "Wizard of Oz" that plays as Auntie Em is riding her bike. Da nuh nuh nah nah naaaaah num, da nuh nuh nah nah naaaah num naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh! Definitely the best outing of the week thus far, as it provided the opportunity to truly see how life, mainly in the working realm, was for most Guatemalans in the Xela area. Plus the views we breathtaking! The soccer pitch in the middle of various crops made me smile the most! That night, we met up with Karen and shared stories about language school, home stays, and general life in Xela. She is hysterical and definitely was the perfect end to a great day!

Saturday brought the most exciting outing of the week...a hike up and around Volcan Santa Maria to get an amazingly clear view of the very active Volcan Santiaguito! As we slowly hiked up the steep terrain, we were passed by local farmers who made this hike every day to tend to their crops. Personally, I'd seriously think about a career change, but unfortunately, thar isn't an option here. Some passed us on horses, others wielding machetes and various farming tools passed us on foot. After climbing for a few hours, we rounded a corner on a slight ascent and were met simultaneously with a magnificently clear view of sharp, jagged mountain summits preceding Volcan Santiaguito's massive open crater and a loud, deep boom as it erupted right in front of us! The sound is similar to what I would imagine a gunshot underwater sounding like...that or when you percuss over someone's lung as they are mid-inspiration, only 321 times louder. We took in the beautiful scenery for about 30 minutes before heading back. About 100 meters into the walk back, we heard and extremely loud boom and turned to see a massive eruption and cloud formation that shot straight up into the air, looking very similar ton the famous atomic bomb photograph. Rolando told us smaller eruptions produce gaseous clouds that extend laterally, almost like a skirt being laid on the sides of the volcano; larger ones shoot straight into the sky, much like the one we RAN back to see. Ps, running is difficult anyways, but at 2700 meters, I really kinda suck at it. I felt like a wooly mammoth...moving with the same speed and "grace." It was pretty remarkable watching something that is so beautiful and destructive. On the hike back down, we stopped to plant 20 baby trees that Nora and Rolando had been harvesting since last years - their attempt to combat the deforestation that has been especially bad in the surrounding Xela area due to the increased need and use of firewood by indigenous families. Apparently, some farmer created a faster way to plant trees that involves making "seed balls" consisting of seeds, dirt, and clay, giving them time to harden, throwing them into the forest, and allowing natural rainfall to break them open and let them set into the ground. How fantastic is that?? You throw trees into the forest - whhaaaaaaa? The decent was quite peaceful, passing herders with flocks of sheep and families of machete-wielding children, as is the life in these mountains.
At night, Hannah and I played Bananagrams with Michelle...I love that this game has already been worth the extra weight and I've only been gone 30 days - pretty sure if I ever have to choose between Bananagrams or medical supplies, the banana is staying. Apparently Hannah and I aren't the only ones who have difficulty finding certain English words... "Is goud a word?" Our ultimate "rule" was 'if you can use it in a sentence, you can keep it!' After a little salsa intermission, we watched "Sin Nombre," an intense movie about a member of the MS-13 gang who ultimately helps a Honduran teenager cross the border into the US. Great movie to make you even more paranoid for the walk home...plus the fireworks that were randomly going off in the park didn't help much either.

Sunday was our "recoup from the week and prep for tomorrow's travels" day. Lazy morning, Xelapan of course, and visit to Parque Calavario, where a caravan of taxis decorated with balloons and streamers was following a fire engine adorned with a huge statue of Jesus on top. The security detail for Jesus, aka the guys with poles that would lift the telephone lines so the statue would go untouched, also pulled double duty and set of firecrackers right next to us. On our walk to Parque Central, there were two different marching bands that walked by on the street. One of bands was wearing a tight, white unitard with diagonal silver sequins on the top...now c'mon, who would do that to these poor kids? Unitard....white....really? Though tempted to follow them, we determined anything worth watching would go through the park. Sure enough there was a competition/parade of various marching bands, drill teams, and dance teams from all over Guatemala. Michelle, Hannah, and I sat and enjoyed the loud, colorful, and energetic display for about 2 hours before rounding out the evening with our favorite street food! We thought about buying dessert-type foods from a vendor but then decided against it when we saw her killing bees INTO the caramelized candies! No gracias! Gave Michelle the Guatemalan handshake goodbye and we each wished each other safe travels and we parted ways. Stay safe in Mexico!

On Monday, we head to the Lake! Hoping that everyone at home is doing well. You are missed very much and thought of frequently, that is for sure!

Xela

2011-07-25T19:37:00.006-04:00

July 21st - 24th

Catching a chicken bus goes as follows....walk to bus terminal; ask people staring at you where to catch the bus to Chimaltenango; try and find the bright green and red one named "Alemana"; find it; ask the driver to signal you when it is your stop; ask a fellow passenger how much it normally costs to get to Chimaltenango so your gringa self doesn't get ripped off; ask money-collector dude for change when you hand him Q5 for a Q3 fare; roll your eyes when he says, "no, es Q5"; sit back and enjoy the evil eye money-collector man gives fellow passenger when you tell him "ello me dijo es solo Q3"; smile politely money-collector man reluctantly hands back Q2; ask a different passenger when to get off to change buses for Xela; freak out slightly and awkwardly attempt to dislodge your bag from between the seats while simultaneously bumping into others when the person you ask semi-screams "AHORITA!!"; hop off and look around in a very confused manner; smile as the man who screamed pokes his head out of the window yelling "mas arriba, al otro lado!"; cross a highway, quickly and with bags slapping us about; ask man standing with others which bus to catch for Xela; try and find humor in the situation as he points to one passing us and says, "como asi?"; thank the heavens above when a bus with ACTUAL SEATS with belts and air and everything shows up with a man yelling out the window "a Xela, a Xela"; feign sleeping to prevent nausea; laugh hysterically while watching Hannah attempt to journal as the bus sped over pothole-ridden and around sharp mountainside switchbacks, throwing her body against the window and into the other seat; get dropped off on the side of Pan-American Highway 1; play dodgecars, get distracted by a child selling plantain chips; load onto another chicken bus that played some stellarly awful musica; be minimally surprised but extremely amused when the driver came to an abrupt stop and the entire seat next to Hannah flew onto the floor; ask fellow passenger when to get off; discover that drivers' honking sometimes has a pattern and other times not - good-looking girl = honk, passing another vehicle = honk, warning to a man on a bike = honk, nice day = honk, restaurant they went to once = honk; exit too soon; catch a microbus to parque central; arrive in Xela proper having saved Q203.50 than the proposed price for direct transport! Booya!

Side note #1: If, before leaving for a very long trip, you are debating whether to buy a skirt that's slightly snug or one that's a bit loose, go with the former. I purchased the latter for "comfort," but was running across a crowded intersection before catching our last transfer bus when it just shimmied it's way all the way down to my ankles. Free shows are not ok, but losing your skirt I learned is yet one more reason people honk. Just saying, go with the slightly snug one.

First impression of Xela...much more of a Guatemalans' ciudad. Gothic architecture, less gringos, underground quirky and artsy vibe, great chill out cafes, excellent street food, pseudo-progressive with many community-oriented volunteering opportunities with eco/green organizations, and stronger sense of community and family. We sought refuge in El Cuartito, a great intimate cafe with great music and hot chocolate that was recommended to us via email by Michelle (who I knew of thanks to the one and only Ashley Curl)! While conjugating verbs, I heard "Audrey?" and looked up to see (and meet for the first time) Michelle. It is always nice to meet someone who has been where you are for a while and can steer you in the right direction (aka to sweet hangouts and community events and away from sketchy areas).

Side note #2: If you are in Xela, you should stay at The Black Cat as you can pick off the menu and choose any desayuno quieres!!! The panqueques are possibly the best I´ve ever had (obviously second to yours, if you have ever made me pancakes). Also, maybe don't get the French toast since is literally a piece of bread that is deep fried like KFC...just saying.

The general routine we have developed in Xela is stuff our faces with yummy free breakfast in the morning, explore through the early afternoon, and end in parque central to people-watch until sundown. Somewhere in there is the consumption of some platanos fritos from the ladies in the street. Given that as a template for our activities, I'll touch on some highlights...

Friday: Spoke with Mom and Dad on the phone! Visited a funky bookstore called Vrisa and purchased my first two books in Spanish, one being "El Principito" and the other a collection of short stories for children...yes, that is the level of my Spanish and I'm not ashamed. Hannah and I played the Spanish version of "I Spy" or "Yo Espio" in the park to help build our vocabulary. Good dinner with Michelle, we have a very similar sense of humor which always makes for good times. I can't quite identify what it is, but their "pizza" sauce tastes a little off...could be ketchup. Mini dance party with Hannah in between our bunks to "Sweet Disposition" before bed.

Saturday: Went to Mercado Democracia with Michelle to take part in the craziness that markets bring. Markets are like the watering holes of the human race. The senses are overwhelmed from the moment you get near it...crazy smells, more colors than you knew existed, textures never felt before, interesting and fresh flavors, and Spanish words/phrases we sure aren't taught in school! Since she lives here, Michelle did some serious shopping and bartering for a flat of 30 eggs, a head of broccoli, a crap ton of bananitas, a bolsita of limes, some tomatoes, and a pair of sweet Converse-style shoes. The greatest decision we made for the day was to have Michelle show us the ropes of everything while she was hauling all of those groceries...yeaaaahhhh. She was very gracious about it...our bad Mi! Amazingly delicious chocolate pancakes with raspberry sauce at El Cuartito... that's right, all we do is eat, so I have no doubt I'll be growing into that skirt of mine. The people-watching in the park wasn't much different than the previous days, except there were festivities happening in the park for the celebration of XelaPan´s (a dangerously addictive bakery on the corner) 25th Anniversary. What better way to commemorate the event than by making a 30-meter long cake while a marching band plays all the popular songs from American and Guatemalan radio. Plus, we met a whole bunch of characters while making a pseudo short film....a couple of older drunks, a shoeshiner, a couple, a cowboy, and a group of boys who will no doubt be the next generation of Menudo. Our first Guatemalan futbol game!! We learned many things....if you bring a drink with you, they'll empty it into a plastic bag, stick a straw in it and then you are kinda stuck holding it for the remainder; the Xela team is pretty awful; although they have the designated "super fans" that bring their own marching band and fireworks, the support that the majority of fans provide is pretty transient - a good play = "vamanos!! Pueden hacerlo!", a bad play 19 seconds later = "Beso mi culo, pinche puta! El burro sabe mas que tu!"; we missed both goals scored by Xela because we were distracted by more entertaining things like a bat that landed on the field and the boy selling candy and cigarrettes (so sad); there was a team wide fight on the field minutes before the end of the game that caused the ejections of two players and subsequently distracted Xela long enough for the other team to score in the last few seconds to tie the game; the borracho in front of us tried to throw a bolsita of gatorade at members of of the officiating staff - no only did he spill half of it on himself, but the bag got caught in the barbed wire; the verbal assault from the "fans" isn't only directed towards the players, but also the coaches, trainers, assistants, and benched players...they're impartial.

Sunday: Found a school by pure luck and chance...saw a sign above the locked door that said "For more information, go to this address up the street." We did and met Nora, el jefe, who was charismatic and seemed very passionate about what she was doing with her school. The school itself had a rock wall in the middle of it (I was in at that moment), a rooftop terrace and weekly events/outings in the community and surrounding pueblitos - Hannah and I felt really good about it and decided within about 3 minutes that Guatemalensis was the school for us. I Skyped with my family and saw my puppy! While journaling, the same group of Menudo boys passed by and distracted me enough by shouting "Andrey, Andrey!" to look up and give a little wave. That's right, Hannah and I have fans in Xela...just sayin'. Channeled my inner EBAL in the park while I was entertained by a ukelele player and a little girl who was dancing with reckless abandon...had a good chat with the mother who said, "estar una mama es bonita." It was a very honest moment and I thought immediately of my friend Claudia (hola mamita!). Hit up all the fun tiendas we had been wanting to check out including Artesenas Panaderia and Al-Natural. Met up with Michelle immediately after checking our mail, which was about 1 hour after the proposed time she sent us...yeah, email only is a difficult way to communicate sometimes. An older gentleman sitting near us responded to his friend that was approaching with a "hey, just hanging out with the gringos" (en Espanol). Hannah, mouth agape with disbelief, turns and looks at him...and his friend says, "I think maybe they understand us (en Espanol)." "Yep, we sure do." Oh Hannah - so classic. Tried some "atol de elote," a warm, thick corn beverage with a sprinkle of cinnamon and cooked corn kernels atop...one of those things that you just keep tasting because you can really never decide whether you like it or not. Then, Bananagrams!! Failed attempt to make their version of hot chocolate...our version was more a chunk of chocolate in the bottom of a cup full of somewhat brownish, lukewarm water. Don't be jealous.

Tomorrow we start language school otra vez. Though to a much lesser degree, I still get a little nervous before "the first day of school." Dork to the core and proud of it! Miss and love you all sooooooo much!!

Tikal y Semuc Champey

2011-07-20T17:48:00.020-04:00

July 17th - 20th

Oh goodness, where to begin...

On Sunday, Kirsty, Hannah, and I headed to Tikal from Flores. Hannah and I packed everything needed the night before so we would be able to sleep a little bit longer. Our bus was set to come at 5am, we were to be in front of Cafe Arquelogico at 4:55. In true us style, just for the mental image, Hannah rather calmly taps me on the shoulder and says, "Hey, it's 4:53." I spring out of bed while simultaneously changing into the clothes I laid out while Hannah did the same...there were little words exchanged but the ones that were seem vital at the time. At some point, Hannah was digging for something....I look over and see a toothbrush in hand. "No time for that, I have gum." Also, "deodorant!" We were SPRINTING up the mountain of a cobblestone street that we live on and down the other side with multiple trips along the way, but no true wipeout. As we round the corner at the bottom of the hill we see the bus do the same on the opposite end of the street. Kristy, who was staying in a hostel above the Cafe/pickup area had only just stepped outside 20 seconds before that. She informed us that she told the driver, "Oh, there are two more coming I believe." The guy slowly turns his head and points to the two gringas hauling ass down the street, waiving their Nalgene bottles franticly and says, "You mean those two?" Haha. In hindsight, what better way to start the day than a brisk jog and a huge dose of adrenalin.

The ride to Tikal was pretty uneventful, except for us swerving to avoid what I believed to be roadkill at the time...only to find out later, it was a man, sleeping off a bad night of rum, in the middle of the only road that leads from Flores to one of the most popular tourist destinations in all of Latin America. Oh Guatemala.

Tikal is a HUGE collection of ancient Mayan ruins that rest in the middle of the Petén region of Guatemala that served as one of the largest and most populated "cities" in the Mayan world during the 3rd-7th century-ish. The ruler at the height of its popularity has a very prestigious name...I won't really use that one because it is historical and not nearly as fun as one of his aliases - Lord Chocolate. No chiste. As we walked in, being part of the guideless crew, we were a bit confused being led into the park by someone who appeared to be a guide. Turns out, they did us a solid and led us just beyond the armed guards out of sight and then said, "Okay, go now." And we did, in true human mimicking sheep-like style. One person made all the navigational decisions and everyone else followed.

Good thing too since the navigator led us to the grand plaza, where two temples face each other and there is an acropolis of sorts sitting behind them. As we approached the center, an eerie buzzing became louder and more prevalent until we saw the culprits....thousands of bees in the grass. Luckily, they were domesticated bees because they didn't seem to notice us at all. There were lots of noises once we reached the center of the Grand Plaza....howler monkeys, toucans, and this weird hawk-like bird that makes a sound similar to radio static interrupted by an old-school telephone ring. It made the experience that much more enchanting. Walking in, you are greeted with Temple I and Temple II, which sit opposite one another and simply command your attention...an acropolis of sorts nestles behind them. We ascended "stairs" (or in normal person English, a ladder) to the top of Tempe II, took in the views as we read about the significance of Tikal and each of its features specifically. So wild to read about something you are sitting on....seriously, it's not like "History of Our Sofa" is sitting on your bedside table...just sayin. After relishing the moment for a while, we took obligatory jumping pictures in attempts to pay respect to the Mayan God's and rulersnof the past....we thought they'd appreciate it maybe? We meandered into the woods and found the Central Acropolis, which I liked because you could literally see how it was functional as a living space and quarters. Then came Temple V...one of our favorites - you weren't alllowed to ascend it but its location and vibe made it seem that at any moment a brachiosaurus would round the corner and eat leaves from the tree we were standing under. And, in sticking with the theme, we followed signs to "The Lost World" and "The Seven Temples." Just amazing to think how much time and effort went into making ANY of these structures!

At one point in between ruins, we came across a group of howler monkeys playing chase and hide-n-go-seek around the fat trunk of the tree. Sooooo cool. They are basically humans...just with no fear of heights/falling and a little bit more hair. We literally watched them for 30 minutes and only stopped because we were distracted by a group of ants actually cutting a leaf into little bits to haul back to the mothership/mother mound? They are worker those ormigas. Sheesh. Nature is amazing! Then....Temple IV. From the base, it looked closed to the public due to active excavations. However, we found some wooden stairs leading up to the top. Near 360-degree panoramic views of the hundreds of miles of lowlands in Peten with scattered tops of ruins was what greeted us! The only thing that could have made that moment better would've been a hammock (or so I thought at the time). I was corrected as we were asked to be in a picture of a middle school group of students by their teacher...I asked, "Porque somos gringas?" He responded emphatically, "Si! Y porque hablan ingles y mi class esta aprendiendo ingles tambien." So, here we are again - sitting amongst Guatemalan tweens, on top of a Mayan ruin constructed in 200BC that overlooks the rest of the national park and most of the Peten region, while listening to JLo/Pitbull's "On the Floor" emerging from one girl's cell phone and posing for a photo being taken by their teacher/our new friend, Marco. Classic! Thank you Tikal for those memories.

After Tikal, we had our customary Sarita Choco-cone and had a little rest time before dinner with the Danes, two other girls in our Dos Mundos program, and Kirsty at Los Raices. Pretty sure I laughed to the point of crying on multiple occasions during that dinner. We compared our nursing programs and once again general healthcare with one of the Danish girls. They spoke about their daily lives - they get paid by the government to go to university, free and abundant healthcare for all, and higher salaries...of course, that all comes with the price of paying 70% taxes. Yikes! But, with all the amenities and services provided by the government, you don't really need much more money on top of that for daily living expenses. Yeaaaa, pretty sure America would never go for that! Crazy though, they are the "happiest" nation on earth. At one point, we were talking about dating and how some people create "bases" for that...always tying in that American pastime. One of the Danes, who is now working on learning her 4th language, got a little mixed up listening to the conversation and asked with the most bewildered face ever, "You have bases for sexual acts?!" Oh gosh, little language translation difficulties make me smile. Also, we were comparing travelers' insurances and realized ours may be more expensive because it covers transport of the body back to the States. Sophia said, "no, we would just bring them with us...'Don't mind my friend, he is nauseated so he is a little pale and really tired....he is just gonna sleep right up against the window so he won't be much of a bother." Morbid, but funny!

Before we left on Monday morning, Senora Gilma made us one last breakfast....because she is the cutest and kindest mamita ever! We said our goodbyes, which was quite sad...made worse by the fact she looked like she was going to cry at any moment. We have her address, so we hope to send her postcards along the way. After waiting an hour or so, we boarded a very warm and crowded shuttle van and headed out to Semuc Champey....after a stop for a tire, a stop for gas, an unloading and rearranging of gear/people, a stop to wait for someone they forgot (who never actually caught up with us), a stop for lunch, a stop for restroom usage, a stop to carry some random guy's 4 cases of liquor, and a stop to have a chat with an old friend. Three hours after the projected time of arrival, we arrived to a town called Lanquin....in the middle of nowhere. Apparently, Semuc Champey is simply the name of the huge national park, not an actual travel destination. A few "where are we?"s and a couple "soooooo"s later, we walked into town to grab some cena typico. The place we did stay in, the Zephyr Lodge, was set in the best possible location for that area, on a small hill resting between to huge valleys with dramatic rolling countryside surrounding you on all sides. Te rooms were made of thatched roofs, so the main rule of the entire lodge was "No smoking in the rooms." It's kinda sad they even had to say tat, but extremely helpful advice nonetheless.

Though we didn't necessarily have reservations for the pre-booked tour with a guide, we waited until they were loading up to ask if we could join....ps, best time to do that ever, because what guide is really going to turn down more money? So we loaded into the back of a 4WD pickup with bars on the back...very much exploiting ourselves as gringo cattle. Really...just like all the other cattle trucks we've passed on our travels thus far. The ride was quite fun...like a mini roller coaster with huge gaps in the railings that you jump and bounce over. Once we piled out of the truck bed upon arriving to Semuc Champey, we were told to remove our shoes, socks, shirt, and if wanted, pants as well. Now normally, one might question this very odd request...buuuut for whatever reason, we didn't because it is Guatemala and that's how they roll. A majority of our basic functioning in this country (as I'm sure will be true for many others) requires us to blindly trust the locals we ask about things...ie, "Buenos Señor, vamos a Xela - sabe cuando necesitamos cambiar los autobuses?" "AHORITA!!" AHHHH....OK!! So once shoeless and shirtless, we were handed candles and headed down into the caves. Yes, we purchased high-tech caving headlamps before leaving the States...and yes, we only had candles when it came down to it. Nice!

First thing one might notice when heading into the caves, other than "I'm in a CAVE!" is "hey, this water is pretty close to freezing and I'm only anpair of shorts and a bra away from being nekkid." Truth. But once beyond the point of sharp rocks digging into your feet, it was MAGICAL! And if you knew the depths of the water at all points, some great rock climbing opportunities up the stalactites. We alternated between swimming and walking across the sandy (and occasionally rock-ridden) floor, at times climbing up and over rock ridges, ascending and descending ladders placed to get to a new elevation or terrain. After squeezing our bodies through some tight spaces (never have I regretted all those platanos fritos more than at that moment), we reached our biggest challenge - haul your plantains-filled selves up a 15-20ft waterfall! No ladder option - was that an oversight in the tour planning? But Carlos, our fearless leader and guide, said what became the repeated phrase of the day..."esta seguro!" Oh, it's safe? Well, ok then! So here we are, pulling our soaking wet selves up a rope with minimal knots (secure-r handholds) through a WATERFALL!! The worst part is when you reach the chute, the super powerful section at the top of the waterfall where the force is crazy strong! It is extremely disorienting because all you are cognizant of is there is a super strong force counteracting your attempt to ascend it...and it is a little difficult to breathe, just saying. Finally, the two other guides at the top grab you when the rope ends and all is well...in the pool of water ahead wait the others, all clutching onto their candles and looking a bit shocked! So wild! And in comes the option to do a 8 meter jump into complete darkness...after Hannah and I saw a few faces of people who just jumped (sheer confusion and completely stunned), we decided we hadn't really done much people-watching, and this seemed like an excellent time to start!

We jokingly asked, "oh, so do we go back the same way?" "Por supuesto!" No es un chiste? Oh, alrighty then. So back we went...luckily, on the way down, there was a ladder option at the waterfall part, and we had no shame in taking it! There was a small detour that took us to a small hole, not much larger than my diameter - rushing water was coming up behind us and down through that hole, and we could barely hear Carlos on the other end (wherever it was). Apprehensively, after being told "let go," I hesitated. Then Carlos responded with what has now become a mantra for this trip and life in general, although initially I thought I was in a human version of "Finding Nemo." He yelled back, though barely audible to me, "LET GO...JUST LET GO...IT WILL BE OKAY." Those simple words have helped me immensely in many of my thoughts about the past, present, and future. So thank you Carlos.

Once out of the caves and back into the sun, we stopped shaking long enough to put shoes on to walk over the next adventure...where Hannah jumped off her first bridge into the rushing waters below us!! Her excitement for trying new things is infectious! More daring individuals dove, but we currently like the position and functionality of our cervical spines, so feet first was just fine. Lunchtime followed. On the way, we stopped to buy chocolate canela from a girl that lived nearby...the chocolate is legitimately ground cocoa beans, sugar, and cinnamon, so a little crumbly but geez does it pack a punch! I literally coughed after taking my first bite. Helen, a hysterical Brit, had been sticking with us since the caves and entertained us throughout lunch with her stories from past travels. After snacking, we hiked up a short but steep trail for about 25 minutes to reach El Mirador, a 180-degree vantage point of the park and aerial of the river and its pools below. The color of the water in each of the shallow pools is quite intoxicating...we stared many a minute at them. Then the best part, we spent an hour or so just swimming in all of them. In the last pool, again with Carlos' reassurance that "esta seguro," we slid down 15 feet or so of rock into the pool below...it felt much smoother than it looked (we realized while watching others do it). Definitely no way to do it gracefully, that is for sure. Shortly after, while chilling on a rock in the middle of the aqua-colored waters like mermaids, huge Howler monkeys started playing in the trees overhead! It was an "are you kidding me moment" that we sat and appreciated until mandated to leave. The ride back awarded us amazing views in the exceptional lighting of the afternoon, as we snagged the front positions of the cattle truck!

That night brought more exploring of the pueblito, a typical dinner, and CHOCOBANANAS!! Excellent way to end an amazing day! An early wakeup call for the shuttle that took us to Antigua. At some point, 30 minutes after we passed through Coban, the driver realized he'd forgotten someone, so he dumped us all out at a tienda on the side of the road. So, we all just waited, bought and consumed more bread, waited, walked up and down the dirt road, waited some more. Shout out to the amazingly nice woman who let me into her home to use the bathroom...gracias! I pretended to sleep throughout the entire trip because the driver was CRAZY and feigning sleep makes me less nauseated! Super windy roads + speeding + dramatic lane changes (lane being oncoming traffic) + jerky braking = vomit. Really random but shout out to the Dixie Chicks for getting me through that long ride. Rolling to Antigua felt very comfortable, as it has kinda become a home base of sorts for us here in Guatemala. The staff remembered us, so that was kinda fun! Clean sheets and new beds and laundry from our favorite man down the street of course made our day. Not to mention som crepes at Luna del Miel and great conversation about our purpose in life and on this trip specifically. "Invictus" and journaling capped the night off well. Next up, Xela.

Flores

2011-07-16T14:33:00.005-04:00

July 11th - 16th

On Monday, Hannah y yo started clases de Espanol a la Escuela de Dos Mundos. Manuel, mi maestro, is a very nice university student that speaks less English than I do Spanish. Although this goes right along with the whole immersion thing, when I actually need an explanation about something, I get a quizzical smile. Todo bien. I just feel that at some point an explanation regarding when to use imperfecto vs preterito would be extremely helpful...mainly so people I am speaking with no longer shake their heads in disappointment. We study one-on-one for 4 hours in the morning and spend the rest of the day trying to understand what we did during that time. He is very fascinated with the fact that Hannah and I are nurses and will randomly ask questions regarding blood or death while I am trying to conjugate verbs. It keeps me on my toes for sure...and I now have a greater knowledge for infrequently used verbs like "to lose consciousness," "to drown," "to bleed out," and "to die." At the very least, I can use it to impress in day-to-day conversation... like, "Enjoy your swim in the lake, also do not drown!" Estoy aprendiendo.

Monday marked another milestone for us as well - our first ride in a tuk-tuk!! These little rickshaw, three-wheeled little beauties of transportation are incredibly practical and cheap...two of my favorite words. They have some version in almost every country, I believe... it would be like a motorized version of the pedi-cabs that circle around NYC. So fun! We rode to the "Maxi Bodega," the Guatemalan version of Target or some all-encompassing store... except, if you didn't catch this already, Guatemalan. All I know is that, in sticking with our amazing diet, we bought the tie-died marshmallows that we grew so fond of in Pacaya.

During our afternoon study time, we get to enjoy the cacophony of musical sadness that occurs between 3-6pm from the students in the school next door - beginners attempting to play their respective instruments, be it the clarinet, flute, saxophone, violin or recorder. Yes, that's right, I said recorder. It kinda sounds as though cats of all ages are being thrown from the roof. So if any of you have ever wanted to torture someone, just let me know and I will make you a recording. The rest of the day is spent studying, exploring, writing, or attempting to conversate with our Señora over a meal. Typical meals thus far: Corn Flakes y pan con jugo naranja, sopa con papas y zanahorias, y frijoles con queso y platanos. Nom nom.

On Tuesday, Manuel brought his "Learning English" textbook in so we could go through it and see if there was anything I didn't know how to say in Spanish. It looked like a pre-schooler's book, with pictures of planes and cars with their name underneath, a picture of Denzel Washington with "actor" underneath, and pictures of various articles of clothing with their respective title. Here I am, making all this progress and then I realized this must be exactly like my book looks like to him...saaaad. For dinner, we had empanadas de "sixinche" or "orejas de arboles," crazy mushrooms that look like ears that when cooked well taste exactly like meat! Although they tasted amazing, I did write in my journal "if this is my last entry, it was the mushrooms!...just in case.

The themes I keep landing on for discussion topics aren't really appropriate for my knowledge level of the Spanish language. Somehow, I usually end up discussing religion, politics, and spiritual history. Umm....que? Those are things I try to steer clear of in English conversations, much less Spanish. Yeesh! I figured since I always wandered into these types of conversations, I should read up. Talk about depressing...I basically learned that Guatemala has yet to see a President that isn't corrupt, doesn't launder/steal money, doesn't oppress the citizens or make major private money-making deals at the expense of the general public. From my reading and from talking with Senora y Manuel, it sounds as though huge political platform points we see in the US do not really exist here - no one has addressed the huge financial gap in classes, lack of education opportunities for the lower classes, minimal health care, and other very basic human rights. The Guatemalans we've met so far are resilient people...it would be insanely difficult to remain positive in light of the seemingly hopeless situation they have had for hundreds of years. Yet, they are strong, proud, and hopeful people amongst it all.

Thursday brought us new friends... Alvaro, a Salvadorian who lived in California for some time and has now relocated to Flores, is a very nice gentleman whose concrete understanding of both languages has cleared up some of the many questions we have about Spanish grammar. Although nuestros maestros have been instrumental in our learning the basics, their explanations of certain things (in Spanish) really don't clear things up for us. Rather, we are more inclined to say "nevermind" and move on (if possible). Alvaro has helped us to understand concrete basics like how to ask someone respectfully to repeat something said more slowly...crucial! We also had the distinct honor of visiting an orphanage of young girls (ages 3-16 I would guess) in nearby San Benito. We were immediately embraced with hugs and kisses from most of the girls and quickly organized a game of futbol. It resembled more of the kindergarden "pack ball" game, where there is only a clump of people running around together and you cannot actually ever see a ball. Yep, that was it. So much fun! After enough of the girls had dispersed to exercise other forms of entertainment, I wandered upon a small group of five that had broken off to practice their self-choreographed dances to various pop songs. If they had "Entonces, Piensa Que Se Puede Bailar," one of those girls would be on there in a few years for sure! Also, did we all have the short attention span and never-ending energy combination when we were younger?

Friday brought one of the best days thus far! Sadly, I learned that I had been calling mi maestro the wrong name the entire week!! It is Daniel, not Manuel! Ahhh, how rude and embarrasing! Luckily, I found out in time before I him wrote a thank you letter and put my mistake in writing. My first letter in Spanish! Super exciting!! My last day of class was with Wendy, a hip and chic 19-year old with whom I was able to hold a conversation. We shared various stories and spoke in depth about various types of music. At the end of one week of classes, I can truly say my Spanish has improved greatly; though, now Hannah and I feel we need a week to practice all the tenses we have learned in daily conversations before we cram any more information into our brains.

After class on Friday, we took a lancha, a small, wooden, motorized boat to La Playita, an area or clearer waters and thatched-roof huts on the lake that surrounds Flores. Our lancha driver, Victor, I have officially claimed as our Guatemalan abuelito. He is so kind, gentile, and a great historian of Flores and surrounding areas. He told us stories about the Mayan origins of many natural elements, of life in Santa Benito, and of his own life. He waited in the lancha while Hannah and I studies Spanish on the docks and later swan to ensure we were safe and had a ride back. When were in the water, you could make a 360-degree turn and physically see five different skies. It was storming across from us, cirrus clouds to the right, cumulonimbus clouds to the left, and cumulus clouds floated by above us. How relaxing! When returned to Flores, we walked into a block-party type fiesta where families were meandering through an aisle of neighbors selling various traditional foods and postres (pastel as they are referred to in Guatemala) to the beat of classic Latino canziones. The best part was that Hannah and I were actually able to recognize most dishes in both their Mayan and Latino names, thanks to our Señora's amazing cooking!! A small victory but one nonetheless! After dinner, we invited our Señora to come to the fiesta...initially, we thought we made a mistake inviting her because she had her fingers in her ears due to the loud music and was giving the evil eye to all who passed in motorized vehicles. Within seconds of finding a place to sit near the water and away from the speakers, she was having a blast people-watching, educating us about traditions, and greeting fellow neighbors who seemed surprised she was out! Classic!

After a "best out of 10" game of rock, paper, scissors (or piedra, papel, tijeras rather), we decided to walk around a bit before retiring for the night. Today is Saturday, and on the agenda is a huge list of nothing! Errands and bookings will get done for sure, but beyond that, we will walk around and practice Spanish with friends of old and new.

Miss everyone and hope all is well! You are thought of every day and it brings a smile to my face :)

Pacaya, Amigas, y Mas

2011-07-10T22:38:00.000-04:00

July 6th - 10th

On Wednesday, another traveler named Allison from Vancouver invited us to check out La Mercado de Artisanes on the main road in town. We had some good conversation comparing different ways of life in Australia, Canada, and the States. We then sauntered through the market, looking at the various colorful garmets and accessories. Guatemalans are very proud people, I have noticed. In most of the markets, vendors have 4-6 feet of space in front of their stand, but boy do they care about them! Almost all of the vendors at some point were sweeping their 23 cobblestones and then mopping them for the best possible presentation possible. I can tell you for a fact their key demographic (tourists with a fascination for momentos and more money than they know what to do with) will rarely if at all take note of the cleanliness of the stones in front of a tienda full of colorful goods...but they care and I love that!

Hannah and I are realizing our diet is pretty much as healthy as you can get! The hostel- provided breakfast (usually one egg, a piece of bread, and either beans or pineapple) starts the day out well...meal 2, if we remember it, is usually a chocolate-dipped, single scoop cappuccino waffle cone from Sarita (because it's scrumptious and only $1) ...meal 3 we usually remember right before going to bed, so that is something on hand (lately 4 Ritz crackers). Based on the "you are what you eat" mantra, we are soooo happy!

On Thursday, Allison, Hannah, and I headed on a hike up to Santiago del Cruz. Our mamita gave us perfect directions that we of course were confused by...fast forward 30 minutes and 5 other direction-giving individuals later and we reached the bottom of a insanely steep cobblestone street leading up to more rural-like housing. By steep I mean easily 40-45 degrees. We continued on that for a good 20 minutes, passing a basketball court that gets my vote for "Most Colors Used in a Sporting Field/Venue." At the top, there was a small statue and open field...but no cross. Many jumping pictures were taken regardless because, well, why not? A group of military cadets had just finished running up the near-vertical road and managed to muster up enough energy to applaud us in our self-timed jumping endeavors. With the help of local law enforcement (conveniently located almost anywhere a silly foreigner could wander), we were pointed in the right direction...just down from where we were. La Cruz is simply the best physical representation/symbol of the general spiritual and religious beliefs the people of Guatemala possess. I have yet to walk into any establishment that does not have at least one sign saying "Dios bendiga esta casa/negocio y quien la habita." After helping another couple take jumping photos, we headed back down.

In going with the "Why Not" theme of activities, Hannah and I decided to take a beginners salsa class. We learned the bare basics before a fellow gringa walked in, asked how it was going to the instruction, and before we knew it was performing the male steps to the dance opposite one of us. Just saying, pretty awkward. Jersey (I'm sure that wasn't her name) and our instructor then gave us a one song-long example of what salsa looks like when done with more than 5 basic steps. They killed it! We didn't know what happened, but it was quality, near-competition grade entertainment for sure. We were almost there ;)

To negate any calories we may have burned from basic-stepping our salsa behinds off, Allison joined us for another choco cone from Sarita's...it only seemed appropriate since she was part of our huge face-stuffing fest at Ronny's Tacos earlier that day. We went grocery stopping in hopes to not spend so much money at restaurants. Turns out, in Guatemala, you can get a liter of rum that comes with a bag of chips and 1.5L of Pepsi for a few Quetzals cheaper than a box of cereal....just sayin'. The pairings of free stuff had to be my favorite - I mean, who wouldn't want a bag of pasta sauce when they buy their orange juice?

On Friday, Hannah and I embarked on our Volcan Pacaya hiking adventure with 12 other people from various hostels in Antigua. 2 Londoners got in the van after being picked up from a different UmmaGumma and immediately continued talking about these "weird bites" they had - we felt it our duty to drop the knowledge with great pride, confidence, and embarrassment. Once at the base of the Volcan, our van was surrounded by 5 horsemen...had we not been in a van, I would have sworn we were extras on the Pony Express. It turns out they were there to prey on the weak, the lazy, and the out of shape. As you slowly ascend the trail at a 35-45-degree angle, these caballeros say things like "this is Candy - she is very sweet, come ride her and actually enjoy this for only Q100." They followed us halfway, just beyond a very steep shortcut- I assume they figure if you didn't have a coronary on that bit, you'll make it. Momentarily, I thought I may be wheezing and have been an undiagnosed asthmatic this whole time... but I then realized that was the sound of one who is out of shape and plans her day around choco cones. Once at the top, I felt like we were in Mordor...there was molten rock everywhere around us and steam emerging from the cracks and crevasses on the volcanic floor. Two other Londoners came prepared with marshmallows - let me tell you, if you want to really throw an amazing Smores party, just pop on over and set up on the nearest active volcano near you. THE most perfectly roasted marshmallow I've ever had. Lava...who knew? The perfect roaster and personal sauna. Also, note to all other marshmallow manufacturers... if you make them one color on the inside and a different on the outside, people will choose yours! We weren't able to go all the way to the top and into the crater since it last erupted one year prior....they gave some lame excuse like "blah blah blah your safety....blah blah you could die." Once all of the ominous fog/steam cleared some, our location rendered some amazing views of the other two major volcanoes in the area - Fuego y Acetenango. We actually saw Fuego erupt three times while we were in sight of it - little Mario Brothers-esque mushroom-shaped clouds of smoke would form at its peak. Once we all thought all the climbing had taken place, our guide took us up a 45-50 degree (sometimes I embellish, I admit that, but I got a confirmation from Hannah on this one) path that led to even greater views and brought us to an almost even level with the crater. Great weather, sights, jumping pictures, and downhill hiking towards the end of the morning rounded out the experience perfectly. **Side note: "Un Techo Para Mi Pais" (A Roof for My Country) is a really great company that sells beautifully hand-crafted jewelry and other products that use actual molten lava from Pacay in their designs - check it out.

After walking 10 blocks, asking 5 different individuals, and spending 30 minutes trying to find a cafe called La Luna del Miel, we ate some amazing savory and sweet crepes upon a fellow hiker's recommendation. Who do you know is that dedicated to finding crepes....that's right, these kids! With food in our bellies, we headed with Hotlanta (aka Kira) and Karen (Toronto) to Oscelot, a really quaint, dark, and charismatic jazz bar to hear some live music. I really enjoy the K2 team....their personalities are very open and make you feel like you've known them for years. Plus, it doesn't hurt that they have great stories and make you laugh. The musician, a curly-haired gentlemen in his late mid-to-late 30s was tearing it up...there was not one still person in the place. You could literally watch a few people try to fight it but then cave, especially when he would play a few notes slightly behind the beat. Great head bobbage. He was later joined by a trumpeter with a mute who made the moment quite euphoric. Great music, great company, great conversation, and not getting sick from our drinks that had ice in them = bliss.

On Saturday, we tagged along with K2 on a trip out to San Miguel to watch the non-profit "As Green As It Gets" at work in their coffee fields. After yet another steep hike and meeting Franklin (go-to coordinator for most AGAIG projects in the Antigua area of Guatemala) and Freddie (the local coffee farmer whose life has improved since becoming an partner/member of AGAIG), we got an education about the various steps and processes that go into the cup of what you may be drinking at this very moment. It is so complicated and gave me such a greater appreciation for the hard work behind things you take for granted. Rudy, Freddie's 12-year-old son, then guided us through the city taking us to different AGAIG vendors. Sylvia is a woman who has crafted a very universal base for creams (hand, face, foot) using various oils of local crops - this lecture was all in Spanish and we understood!! Very proud. We then met Maria, the 16-year-old phenom who made a lip balm from local oils and products, who is quite the success story - sold locally in San Miguel, then with AGAIG, and appealed to a Best Buy owner, who now orders her product by the thousands. She has been doing this since she was 13!! Makes me feel somewhat lazy but extremely proud of her and the success she has created for herself. We learned SO much that morning about local farming and the new products emerging from the community of San Miguel...very thankful K2 let us tag along!

We spent the remainder of the day eating, chilling, repacking, and getting ready for the long bus ride to Flores (12 hours in total). The music in the van to Guatemala City was initially hysterical and slowly became more like Chinese water torture the longer we sat in traffic - three versions of "Sound of Silence" (hotel lobby, chimes, and mariachi remixes), piano versions of "When a Man Loves a Woman" and "My Heart Will Go On," amongst others. This all became the soundtrack for the couple in the back of the van that, when heard over the ridiculous musical stylings of our driver, were having the most dramatic conversation on the planet. Initially, while the girl was tearing up, it sounded as though she was seeing him off to war....only to later find out they were discussing who should have the window seat. After a somewhat terrifyingly fast ride (for a charter bus), we arrived safely in Flores. The best part about the ride was to see how happy Hannah got when they handed us our cheese sandwiches and juice box...love it. Flores is like a smaller, 3x4 block version of Antigua that is surrounded by water. Kinda perfect. Tomorrow we begin our classes! Miss and love you all very much. Hope all is well on the home front!

Chinches en Antigua

2011-07-06T17:39:00.009-04:00

July 5th - 6th

Greetings all! We have arrived to GUATEMALA! The first day was a little tumultuous, but we are here and loving it now!

The trip started with some chaotic running around and packing throughout the morning - you would think a nurse would learn a few time management skills, apparently I fell asleep in that course. I'm almost certain my backpacking bag was packed in less than 10 minutes... and I have learned that some crucial items (ie deodorant, sleep shorts, bras, etc) didn't make it in there - luckily, nothing that can't be purchased at some point. No worries, deodorant obtained immediately.

Lesson 1: Don't fly Spirit Air unless absolutely necessary. Who charges $40 for a carry-on?

Lesson 2: Do not pack a thick, heavy, wax-covered travel book in the bottom of your rucksack - security will then undo all of the careful packing of your sack that you'd done the night prior. Poor Hannah. Also, who knew literature was such a threat to our national security?

Lesson 3: Try not to go 50-plus hours without sleep prior to a long trip (I know, you were right Dad). No one likes a hallucinator on their flight. (EB - "I just want to wash my hands!)

Lesson 4: Never get seats in aisle 10 of any Spirit Air flight (just in case you don't heed my advice from the first lesson) - the seats don't recline, as they are positioned directly in front of the emergency exit row. Are those extra 2.7 centimeters really going to hinder people's chances of exiting should an emergency actually occur? Also, it's very difficult to sleep leaning forward.

Lesson 5: Again, should you disregard lesson 1 and 4, any movement of the armrests or chairs of other passengers (who were lucky enough to recline) sounded like a playground full of screaming 2-3 year-olds who were all featured on "Super Nanny." If that is your kinda thing, Spirit Air is happy to serve.

Lesson 6: Guatemala loves color and color loves it. Everything is so quaint and cute. The terrain itself is hilly with grass-covered volcanoes in the background. And on the ride over, we learned that the lane lines were mere suggestions.

Lesson 7: Trust your instincts. A woman passed us casually as we were roaming the streets pretty desperate to put our bags down and said "if you need a hostal, that one is only Q35/night." In the previous traveler part of my brain, red flags went up everywhere...but the frugal part of my brain overpowered all others - I'm sorry, but $5/night. Done. I even looked around the place and inspected the upper bunk for signs of bedbugs. All clear at that time.

Lesson 8: You know you are eating like a local when you eat at a café that has no menu. People just rolled up, stated some plate typical to the area, and waited. Love it.

Lesson 9: It is going to be a long night when your travel partner awakens at 12:30am and asks "Do you feel like you are being bitten by something?"

Lesson 10: Bedbug bites don't always happen in a linear grouping of 3-4...mmm mmm, nope. Just so you know.

Lesson 11: When suspecting bedbugs, please confirm with a headlamp and look at the bedding. If it appears that golden-brown, pinpoint "animales" are having a rave party and dancing it up where your head just was laying, then it is safe to assume they have won.

Lesson 12: Sometimes the paranoia that ensues after such trauma (no joke, I heard harsh, sharp orchestral notes in my head when I finally saw them doing the Dougie on my sleep sheet) can only help you. We walked to Hostal Holistico, which can from this point forward be referred to as bedbug free haven (BBFH), and nearly cried from the cleanliness that the other hostal lacked. In total, I would estimate we spent 3 solid hours inspecting for chiches that night/morning.

Lesson 13: Always have a little Zofran on hand. Apparently exhaustion, eating cucumbers on a salad, and PTSD of chiches is a recipe for nausea, vomiting, and other unpleasantries. We eventually got to bed, both of us having some type of nightmare that we had to go back to Umma Gumma. That's right, I said Umma Gumma. I know what you're thinking and I agree... who in their right mind would stay in a place with that name? Again, 55-plus hours of no sleep at this time = crazy bad judgement.

Now that the craziness has passed, we will now refer to "Hannah's and Audrey's First Day of Adventure" to be today, July 6th. We call redo.

The BBFH has been amazing, full of hammocks and hammock swings all surrounding an open courtyard and lots of places to recharge. Plus, free yummy breakfast. After great conversations with Allison (Vancouver), Jill (Australia), and Mary (Peace Corps volunteer that knows my co-worker's daughter who is also volunteering in Guatemala - small world), we are feeling pretty good about this whole travel business. A special thank you and shout out to the adorable Guatemalan man who got rid of the chiches from out sleep sacks and clothes without the use of hot water - apparently, drops of chloride/bleach should do the trick. I'm almost certain a small tear formed in my right eye without my knowledge when he told me no one used hot water for laundry. Thankfully, his 11-year smarts about the business paid off.... we spent another 35 minutes inspecting everything again and he passes. Job well done. Things are looking real nice!

Much love to all back home! You are missed!

Mic Check

2011-06-22T18:01:00.001-04:00

Blog check ... one, two, three. Let us see if this works.