Erin can swim

jungle to mountain

2008-04-23T16:02:00.000-07:00

So, at last I have made my break from the jungle, with some sad goodbyes to my friends there, and to the birds, and the place itself. They were three months I certainly will never forget.
Now I´m playing tourist again in Cuzco, where I´m spending a week exploring. The city is really beautiful, rich in history and culture, with too much to see in only one week. I arrived just before a rain storm and was dropped off by my taxi with my huge suitcase at the bottom of an enormous stone staircase which I had to climb up, with my heart pounding as if I had just run a marathon due to the extreme altitude change (Tambopata is about 180 meters above sea level, cuzco is about 3,400 meters). Instantly I found myself surrounded by a group of curious children dressed in their school uniforms, impressed with the size and weight of my suitcase. A few of them insisted that they help me carry my case up the stairs, and eventually, as the rain began, all but one ran off to their homes. The last one, a little girl, probably 7 or 8, helped me the rest of the way and when I arrived at my hostel, we said goodbye "ciao, amiga". Too cute. My hostel, after all the stairs, has a magnificent view of the city and is run by two really warm, welcoming women who gave me a cup of coca tea upon arrival (to alleviate the altitude sickness) and who made me a beautiful breakfast this morning.
Today I´ve spent the whole day just sortof wandering around, as I like to do my first day in any city, just taking it all in. I´m a little bit hindered by my labored breathing and a constant headache, but it´s gotten better since the beginning of the day. There is so much to see here... I´m charmed by the women in traditional garb, looking as though they are of another time altogether with their bowler hats and full skirts and colorful blankets carrying bundles of flowers, babies, and other mysteries on their backs. Everyone here has rosy cheeks from the cold and the sun. The city itself feels really really old (as it is.), with tiny cobblestone streets that have been walked down for thousands of years. The buildings are all white-washed with terra cotta tile roofs, built precariously and ingeniously into the sides of fairly steep mountainsides. Their are stairs to climb everywhere you go, as the city is so steep, and was designed long before automobiles, so there´s lots of built-in exersize to exploring (slow exersize. Even the locals walk slow, as it is impossible to get enough oxygen to support fast movement).
Tomorrow I´m going to do some exploring further afield but still within the city limits, to a few Incan sites, and then the next day I´m taking the trip to Macchu Picchu by train, then maybe a day trip to a village a couple of hours out of the city, for a glimpse of real Andean life (or something close to it).
All in all, It´s all quite wonderful and I´m happy as always and forever enjoying the view. I´ll write more when there´s more to write.

Amazon life, part 2

2008-04-14T16:31:00.000-07:00

So, it´s been a ridiculously long time since I´ve last written something here and I´m not sure that when I press ¨publish post¨ this will even work, as in the past it has not, but I´m going to give it a try.
My jungle days are coming to an end and I´m at the point where I´m looking back on the past two and a half months and being able to look at them a bit more objectevly and recognize just how amazing they have been. There have been hardships, mostly the sweating and the bugs and the sore muscles and exhaustion, but all in all, the pluses have completly outweighed the minuses, and I think this experience will be one of the coolest and most amazing ones of my life. I´m feeling more inspired than ever by travel and by genuine experience and I know that I am not going to be able to keep myself from getting back out on the road once I´m home for a while.
About a week ago the last chick fledged and I was lucky enough to see this incredible moment. I am the only climber left on the crew and was thus climbing this nest every day for about a month, taking the chick out, and measuring her, getting to watch her grow and develop and gain her strength and personality... I got really quite attached to her and felt that she and I shared a special bond, despite the fact that she tried to bite me every day. Anyhow, on the last day, I climbed up to the nest, where I could see her sitting in the entrance way looking out over her jungle home. Her mother was in the tree beside us, calling out, as the parents do when the chick is about to fledge, and I could see Amor (the chick) trying out her wings, thinking, looking at her mother, thinking some more, until the mother flew off her perch, and Amor took the leap and flew off into the forest for the first time. I was left just sitting up in this tree with an empty nest in front of me, just amazed that I got to see such an event. In general I feel just incredibly lucky these days that I´ve been able to have such a genuinely incredible experience. I see the agenda for the tourists out here, who have a guide assigned to them who is by their sides at all times (wisely so), and who are taken around for a few days to ¨see¨ the jungle. They go on the trails close to the lodge, take it easy, and hopefully see something great. I think most people leave feeling like they did indeed have a great experience, which is great, but I feel like my experience has given me an infinetly more intense and intimate glimpse into the jungle that so few people (especially from places like Massachusetts) get to experience. Every day out here I go out miles and miles from the lodge on transect walks that take me over (sometimes through) rivers and swamps, where I´m on my own, with my machete, where I can just soak up this incredible place at my own pace and through my own guidance. The nest climbs, too, have given me the ability to view the jungle in a way that so few people get to see... and to connect with the macaws in such an amazing way. I will have an affinity for these birds for the rest of my days.
Anyhow, I´m going to stop ranting about how amazing everything is, as I´m feeling the need to write something cumulative once I´m entirely finished, and will perhaps post that in the future.

Last week I went down river for a little ¨family vacation¨ to Puerto Maldonado with the other three guacamayeros, Augusto and Cate, and Stacy, as there was a big concert happening in town and all the guides and staff members were going to attend. The concert itself was pretty fun, lots of dancing and drinking beer and having a good time. I think Stacy and I must have been the only two gringos in the crowd... definetly a very local sort of scene. Lots of fun. The next day one of the guides offered to take me for a motorcycle tour of Puerto, which I was a little terrified of, but which seemed like an opportunity I couldn´t pass up, and didn´t. It was a little harrowing at moments (dirt roads totally washed out from the rain, no lines on the road, no traffic signals, hundreds of other motorbikes and rickshaw taxies in the road, no helmet, so on and so forth), but all in all, a really wonderful night.
Now I´m back in the jungle, safe and sound, and am getting things ready for my departure in 5 days.
There is a huge thunder storm looming in the distance right now and so I´m going to wrap this up and post it so that I dont lose it when the electricity inevitably goes out, or we´re hit by lightening (again).
I´ll write more once I´ve gotten back to civilization.

Amazon life, part 1

2008-02-19T16:12:00.000-08:00

So, finally I'm able to update you all. I've arrived (obviously), and am starting to get into the groove of jungle life. I dont really know where to begin... There are 4 other assistants out here, as well as a field leader who acts as our boss (although he's more of a friend than a boss..) everyone gets along quite wonderfully. At first I was a bit intimidated by how close everyone was but now I'm starting to feel like one of the fold and it's all good. We definetly have fun as we work and I think everyone here shares a feeling of being lucky to be part of such a project. We live, work, eat, and sleep together and it feels like a big multi-cultural funny family. There are also a few guys who do maintanance work, an awesome chef and his assistant, the two boatsmen, the lodge manager, and occasionally tourists who stay in a seperate area. We all live upstairs from the bio-labs and the guide rooms (the guides come when the tourists come to show them around and take them on different types of walks through the jungle) in a big thatched roof very simple structure with open ends that let the air, bugs, occasional birds, and bats in. We all have our own little room seperated by bamboo walls and cloth curtain doors. I'm provided with a mosquito net (thank god) and lots of clothing line in my room to hang all my disgusting soaking wet clothes at the end of the day.
An average day usually starts with my alarm at 4:15 when I get up, stumble around with my headlamp to get dressed and get my things together for the morning. I always remember to check down the legs of my pants with my flashlight before I put them on but I have to say, there has been nothing lurking there so far. We leave the lodge by 4:45 and hike out to the boat port where we get into a boat and take a short ride upriver to the colpa (the clay lick) where the birds flock to every morning. (or, alternately, a marsh on the other side of the same island, where we listen and watch for birds arriving to the colpa and record whatever we see/hear) At the colpa we're recording the time and abundance of each species to use the colpa. On sunny days in particular it's an amazing display, with so many colors of birds being illuminated by the sun. My favorites are the blue and yellow macaws who are a sky blue color on their heads and backs and brilliant golden yellow under their wings. When the sun hits the bottoms of their wings it's just incredibly beautiful. Especially when there's 50 or more of them flying at the same time. Amazing. So, around 7:30 we radio back to the lodge and have the boat come back for us, then we eat breakfast and get ready for our other morning activity. Usually we're climing in the late morning, we're split into pairs, one person will climb a tree with rope and a harness and the other stays on the ground to take measurements of the chick that the climber lowers down in a bucket from the nest. I've climbed three nests so far (many more in the future, I'm sure) and it's been interesting. The climbing itself is incredibly physically demanding. By the end of the climb my arms hardly feel like they're attached to my body any more. I'm sure that with time I will gain strength, and so it will get easier. The view from the top of the trees makes it entirely worth it, however. Macaws like to choose the tallest trees of the forest to nest in and so once you're up there, there are not many other trees taller than you. Because you have to lower down the chick and then the other person has to take all kinds of measurements of it, you just sortof hang up in the tree for half an hour or so, waiting for them to return the chick, so you have time to just look around and enjoy the view (or, alternately, be tortured by bullet ants and sweat bees, depending on the tree). Yesterday there were monkeys moving through the branches in the tree next to me and checking out me, a strange site to them, I'm sure.
The actual removal of the chick from the nest is quite eventful as well... The mother usually pokes her head out of the nest as you're climbing up and starts to growl at you and sometimes yell... Once you get to the nest the first thing you have to do is get rid of the parents, which is done by taking a stick and poking it at her, or, if it's an artificial nest hanging from a branch, you can shake the whole nest and throw off her balance so she'll fly off. Some times it's easier than other times and sometimes she'll attack, flying at you all pissed off with her claws out... that's when I just sortof cover my face and yell back and hope she'll leave me alone. Once that's dealt with, you get to the nest and have to remove the very unhappy and uncooperative chick who also likes to bite. Luckily, they haven't made it through the gloves yet, so it doesn't hurt too much, but at first it was a little scary. Once they're in the bucket you lower it down to the person on the ground, they do their thing (measuring the beak, talons, weight, crop, tail, etc, etc, etc) and then they send the chick back up and you put it back in the nest, and lower yourself down (I like this part the best because it's fairly effortless and it feels like flying).

***I have to stop here because it's time for dinner. Part 2 will be coming soon!***

not in Kansas anymore

2008-02-07T07:03:00.000-08:00

I dont really know where to find the words for this one... The last day has been pretty crazy, mostly in a good way... a day to never forget.
I find myself in a different world today than I ever knew existed. My flight from Lima was hands down the most amazing flying experience of my life, taking off over the Atacama desert, flat and vast, just expansive dry brown nothingness, then a very short while later, the development of the foothills of the Andes, then a little later, the ANDES! Seriously, what a view! The plane seemed nearly ready to clip the tops off some of the peaks (which, luckily, it did not). There were parts completely covered with snow, just incredibly beautiful. There´s almost no civilization to be seen anywhere, no roads, no anything besides mountains and more mountains. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, is Cuzco, resting on a long, low valley between numerous peaks. I was thinking to myself how completely tenacious the people who originally inhabited this city must have been to take such a remote location and make a city out of it. It seems as though situations like this one would be a challange to pilots, but ours seemed like he had done it a thousand times, and we set down easy. I didn´t even get off the plane, but when they opened the door, I could feel the cool mountain air rush in. I´ll be spending a week or two in Cuzco in conjunction to my trip to Macchu Picchu in May. I think that cool air will be a shock to the system by then. So, less than half an hour later, we were back in the air, again, soaring over the beautiful mountains. Then, quite abruptly, the mountains end, and there´s nothing but a thick, grey mat of clouds. Eventually the captain comes on the loudspeaker asking the attendants to prepare for landing, and I know what´s beneath those clouds. We drop elevation, sink beneath the grey, and whammo! there´s the Amazon spreading out as far as the eye can see in every direction nothing but green! Tears flooded my eyes instantly, as this moment is something I have drempt of for as long as I can remember. I have often heard the Amazon referred to as the ¨lungs of the Earth¨and as I looked out on that landscape, I couldn´t help but feel I was looking my creator in the eye... The only interruptions to the green were twisting, twining rivers.... and then there´s Puerto Maldonado... This ¨city¨, if you can call it a city, is a very foreign land to my eyes. It´s more intense than I expected it to be for sure. (Just now a parade of women protesting for childrens rights are marching by this hole in the wall internet cafe). We landed at the single strip airport and the terminal itself is a single big room with open air grated walls and a thatched roof covered with a layer of corrugated tin (the building material of choice down here). The air is hot. Really steamy, and sweet, but not unbearable. I´m glad to have been in the tropics for over a month now, because I´m feeling decently acclimated to the temperature. I found my luggage and then found a group of German tourists who were going to the same place as me and got in on their private bus to the office of the tourist company who collaborates with the people running the study I´ll be working on. I sat to the side as they checked in all the tourists and delt with all their arrangements, and after that was all done, I was shown my room, which has two bunk beds, with mattresses only on the bottom half. The top half is used as a canopy to hang a mosquito net from. I was then invited to lunch with all the guides, all Peruvians, who were extremely friendly. I was SO grateful for my Spanish classes, without which I would have been completely lost in the conversation. As it was, I still only got about 60%, but was able to follow for the most part, and understood all the questions they asked me about myself, and was then able to answer. I have a feeling that this whole experience is going to be good practice as far as Spanish speaking goes. After lunch one of the girls was going into the town and asked if I wanted to come along. Since I needed to purchase some rubber boots I decided to go, and we walked down the little dirt road to the bigger dirt road and waited for what she referred to as the ¨bus¨. Along comes a dilapadated old mini van with it´s slider door torn off, and it slows down and we hop on, joining 8 or so people who are already on, all Peruvian. They all stare at me. We pay 60 cents (about 10 cents American) and ride for about 20 minutes, picking up others on the way, and when we get to the market place, the girl I was with tells me that I´m there, and I hop off alone. The market is THRONGING with people and activity. There are vendors of everything imaginable, and some things unimaginable, from rice, to chickens, to candy, to unidentifyable herbs, to all kinds of strange looking fish... you name it, it´s there. The smell is atrocious, dominated by the stench of unrefridgerated meat. I eventually find a few people selling rubber boots and I ask around for a good price and eventually settle on $6, although I´m sure it would be considterably less if I were a local and spoke better Spanish. $6 is not too bad, though, and I´m sure the woman I gave it to is happy to make some decent money. I took a look around town, not really daring to walk into the areas away from the center... I get the impression that people are (financially) really really poor here and it´s something I´ve never experienced before. Not to this level. Houses are barely standing, clothes are dirty and torn, some of the children are barefoot, faces look weathered and show signs of a life of struggle. At the same time, the unifying factors of joy and laughter are here as well. Parents playing with their children, people enjoying conversation and the good things in life... I just cant imagine this place being reality for an entire lifetime. I´m really grateful, however, to let it be my reality for a few days. It´s enlightening indeed to see how life goes in a place like this.
I eventually returned to the lodge and spent the night writing in my journal and reading (very slowly with my dictionary at my side) a book in Spanish, and then just laying under my mosquito net, listening to the night sounds of the jungle, and feeling incredibly lucky. Seriously lucky. I remind myself constantly.
The boat schedule is a bit confused here and I´m going to be in Puerto Maldonado until the 9th, then I´m going half way up river to a lodge called ¨Posadas Amazonas¨ for four days, and then on the 13th I´ll finally be on my way to Tambopata. I´m excited to get waaayy out there and be away from all the motorcycles and barking dogs that are in this city... to really get down to buisness...

Lima

2008-02-05T14:42:00.000-08:00

So, here I am in my first days in Peru, which I´m sure will not at all resemble what most of my days here will be like, and I´m getting more excited by the minute. My flights went smoothly and I was blessed by the airplane neighbor gods with interesting people who wanted to converse and therefore who made the trips feel considerably shorter. On my flight to Miami I sat next to Hector, a {gorgeous} Cuban yoga instructor, who was full of wisdom and humor. We became friends in short time and ended up pouring our hearts out to one another about this and that. He gave me some great advice and made me feel positive and happy about everything in life, which I already pretty much was anyway, but anyhow, thanks Hector, wherever you are.
Yesterday I spent the day exploring the city a bit, or at least the areas that were dubbed ¨safe¨to me by the reception guy at my hostel. I went to a beautiful Franciscan church which, in its basement, contains the bodily remains of over 70,000 people. The bones are all arranged by type and then placed in geometric designs. Weeeird.... I had never seen anything like it before and it was really pretty spooky... thousands of skulls laid out in concentric circles, huge piles of leg bones, etc, etc... the church itself was absolutely gorgeous. I didn´t wander far into the poorer areas of town, as I had my camera and a bit of money on me, and didn´t feel like parting with either of them. The city is, for the most part, extremely flat, except a few hills at the end of town, which rise up suddenly. On the hills there are little communities of poor folks, with brightly painted corrugated tin houses that look as though they could blow over in a second. I didn´t dare wander into these neighborhoods, but I have to say I was intreagued and would have liked to have a more personal glimpse into the way that more than half of this country lives. As it is, I´m staying in the nicest part of town, a suburb called Miraflores, where the majority of tourists live, and where the more well-to-do Limeños live. Things are still shockingly cheap, especially with my backpacker mentality of going to supermarkets instead of restaurants (although I scoped out a vegetarian restaurant that I´m going to go back to tonight as a celebration for my last night outside the jungle) and to make myself an avocado tomato sandwich it runs me about 40 cents. The cabs are also really cheap, about $2 for a half hour trip into the city center (and I´m sure that´s the gringo price).
Today I dropped off my suitcase of Costa Rican beach gear at the appartment of the Guacamayo (Macaw) project leader, Carolina, who spends half her year here in Lima, and the other half in the jungle. She was super sweet and we sat and talked for half an hour or so mostly about what to expect from my next three months. She gave a very very good impression and our conversation left me more excited than ever. I now know that there will be about 5 other assistants working the same time as myself, along with about 5 local guides, and another few women who do the cooking. It sounds as though there´s a good comradery among the project crew (she said they often organize soccer games on the ¨beach¨beside the river and that everyone has an attitude of making the best of the situation). I will appreciate positive attitudes, as I´m sure it will not all be peachy...
Anyhow, I´ll stop there, and write more about TRC once I´m living there and getting a better feeling for things for myself. For now, I´m going to go luxuriate with my vegetarian meal and then I´m going to watch some Spanish TV and get to bed early for my big day tomorrow.

decline incline

2008-01-31T13:27:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow I leave Samara and the thought of it brings tears to my eyes. I´m already dreaming of my next visit. There is not an ounce of me that wants to leave this place.
Onward, I suppose. I cant imagine things could get much better than they are right now, but there´s no choice in the matter, so I go....
A week from today will be my first day on the job in Tambopata.
The days until then are going to be interesting, I´m sure, with lots of transport involved (a flight from San Jose to Miami, then Miami to Lima, then two days in Lima, and another flight from Lima to Puerto Maldonado, where I´ll spend one day, then my 7 hour boat ride out to the research station, then I´m home free...) Moments of intense transport are always the most stressful ones, but I´m sure I´ll make it.
I´ll write more once I´m in Lima. For now, I need to go soak up the last moments of my time here.
Love to you all.

a super good night

2008-01-21T09:48:00.000-08:00

This Saturday night Alice bangs on my door asking me if I want to go to a fiesta at Hilarios families house. I asked where it was and they motioned that it was just up the road, so I said yeah, sure, and we all packed into two cars and went on our way. Just up the road ended up being waaaaayyy out in the hills of Guanacaste (the region of Costa Rica I'm staying in) down some really long, somewhat trecherous roads. Eventually we come to a hilltop and there's a single light on in the distance on a neighboring hill and Hilario tells me that that's where we're going. We arrived eventually to the house of Hilarios uncle and aunt who are dairy cow farmers. His uncle cares for the cows and his aunt makes cheese with the milk to sell in the local market. During the final length of the drive we're passing groups of people making their way by foot down the dark, dark road, on their way to the fiesta. Hilario would shout out a greeting or joke or whatever to each group, as he knew everyone and was related to most of the people we were passing. He later explained to me that his family has been living on this particular hill in this particular village for many many generations. We eventually arrived at a big old barn that was all lit up, where all the people were conviening. Inside the barn there were little tables with chairs lining the outside of the room and the middle was left empty for dancing. There was a guy in one of the corners playing salsa and merengue music (very loudly). The day before this, a guy who had been a student at the same school I'm now attending arrived for a visit to Samara and was staying with Alice and Hilario (they introduced him as their 'hijo', their son) and so I was one of two gringos (white people) at the party. There were probably 100 people crowded into the barn, and spilling out the back doors into a big field. We sat and socialized and drank beer and eventually some of the women made a huge feast for everyone (none of which I was able to try for the fact that pork was a main ingredient in everything) and it was just a really really good time. Brandon (the other gringo) and I were wondering when the dancing would start and continued to wonder this basically all night, as it never did start. However, Brandon is big on dancing and insisted that we go out to the field behind the barn and he would show me the basic steps for a few salsa dances, and he also showed me one country western dance that applied well to salsa music (he's from Texas and is a classic southern gentleman, very christian, very sweet, but at the same time, very foreign to me). He somehow convinced me to go back to the barn with him and dance the country western dance in the middle of the barn, with everyone watching! Anyhow, somehow I go for it, and at the end everyone applauded! It felt really really good to just seize the moment and do something completely out of my nature. Beyond good, really. A little later we went back to the field and befriended a big pack of kids who were playing there. They were very intreagued by us and thought we were loads of fun and they ended up following us everywhere, like the pied piper. We all danced around in a circle and seriously just had a blast.
Eventually Hilario told us it was time to go so we took the long ride back to Samara and stopped at a bar in town that was having a salsa night, this time with lots of dancing people. Brandon insisted that I try out the new moves he had taught me and so again I just went for it and had a ball doing so.
At the end of the night I fell asleep just feeling so lucky to get to see places like this and meet great people and do things like go to parties way out in the countryside of Costa Rica... To get glimpses of life in places so forign to my own New England world. It's just wonderful.
The night was just really inspiring and elating and I thought I should share it with you all. :-)

beach life

2008-01-18T14:21:00.000-08:00

Well, it´s been two weeks now that I´ve been in Samara, which is kindof astonishing to me, because it hardly feels like it´s been that long. Perhaps it´s having a routine that makes time go by so quickly... I´m absolutely delighted with my trip so far, and really, things couldn´t get too much better. The daily grind includes waking up to roosters and monkeys outside, eating a fresh fruit breakfast, walking to school on the beach, taking my classes and spending the rest of the day on the beach, reading my book or studying Spanish. I´ve made some really nice friends here in town, which makes things all that much better. Just this afternoon one friend with a car drove a few of us to a neighboring town for a change of scene and we spent the afternoon at a restaurant with an amazing bar-terrace, where we drank cold beer and admired the view and the breeze. Again, not too hard to take. At all.
My new tico "family" couldn´t really be sweeter, either. Alice is a jovial old woman who cooks amazing food and trys her hardest to help me understand her jokes. Some mornings I´ll wake up to blasting salsa music and she´s cooking away in the kitchen, singing and dancing all the while. Hilario is Alices husband and is also really sweet. He makes a real effort at meals to hold conversations, which are sometimes painfully slow, but he still sticks with me, and trys to teach me things I might not know, like names of animals I´ve never seen and suchlike. In addition to these two, there´s a constant flow of family and friends who come and go all day. They definetly have a very close family and value family above just about everything else. They like to sit around and joke and tell stories, and although I only get about 60% of what they´re saying, it´s just a nice glimpse into a lifestyle very different from my own. They´re becoming more and more comfortable around me and I already know I´ll be really sad to say goodbye not only to them but to this whole town, when the time comes. One of my best friends here is an 84 year old man named Elmer, who lives down here half the year and spends the rest in British Columbia. He´s originally from Hungary and has traveled all over the world and is a wealth of wonderful stories, which he willingly and enthusiastically recounts to any listening ear. I´ve spent quite a few nights sitting with him in the rocking chairs on the porch, listening to his tales and just enjoying the good company. It´s indeed amazing the characters you meet when you´re new to a place.
School itself is really great, and I definetly am understanding a lot more now than I was when I arrived, which was my objective, and therefore, I consider the whole trip thus far to be a success. My classmates this week were more into the whole thing (last week I had some really immature and unfocused girls who were basically just here for a tan), which really helps, because the enthusiasm just sortof brings the whole class up.
All in all, things are just about perfect, and although this is on the short side, I cant think of much else to say besides that it´s not too shabby livng in paradise. Not too shabby at all.

back in the saddle

2008-01-06T08:02:00.000-08:00

It´s abslolutely amazing how quickly this day has come since my last post in Europe. The two months spent at home were wonderful and leaving was dificult because it felt as though I had just returned and had hardly had time enough to settle in before leaving again.
The first two days of this trip have been a bit stressful but at last I have arrived at my destination, Playa Samara, on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica. The troubles began pretty much instantly, as there were electrical problems with the plane at JFK, delaying take off for more than an hour, and making everyone on the plane a bit nervous, considering they had to bring electricians onboard two times. The flight was smooth enough once we were up in the air, but because of the initial delay I ended up missing my connecting flight in Houston and therefore missing the people at the airport who were supposed to be picking me up in San Jose. In Houston I was literally the last person admitted onto the plane, I had standby status and at the last minute a few people who had been delayed in Minnisota were not able to make it and so I got to take one of their places, thank god, considering the alternative was to take a flight at 6pm, getting me to San Jose at about 10. Upon arrival in Costa Rica, I was absolutely astonished and elated to see that my luggage had somehow arrived with me. I was not so suprised, however, to see that whoever was going to pick me up was no longer there. I must have looked like a lost puppy because I had one after another taxi driver trying to get me into their cars, but since I had only a name of the town I was going to and the name of the person I was staying with along with a phone number, I had no idea what to do. One semi-English-speaking driver kindly used his cell phone to call the woman I was staying with and got directions and eventually got me to my destination, thank god. Maria, my host for the night, welcomed me warmly and tried her hardest to converse with me despite the fact that she spoke not a word of English. The next day I was expecting to take a bus from the school in Heridia (the suburban town outside of San Jose where I was staying), as I had recieved an email from them saying one was leaving at 10am. However, Maria called ahead to confirm the bus schedule and they said that there was no bus and that I would have to find my own way to Samara. Luckily, Maria and her husband Jorge were willing to take me into San Jose to the public bus stop and helped me with buying my ticket and figuring out where to go. Thank god for the kindness of strangers. The bus ride took about 5 hours, costing $7. At first I was happy to see that I had the front seat, with a great view out the front window. Then I realized the guy sitting next to me was retarded and decidedly had a crush on me. oi vey. He kept asking me all kinds of questions to which I would reply that I didn´t understand because I dont speak much Spanish. He kept on going with his questions and I eventually had no choice but to ignore him. He had a plastic ice-cream cone toy that had a button which, when pressed, played a familiar synthisizer song from the 80´s. He must have pressed the button 200 times before the batteries finally died. Thank god. Toward the second half of the trip he started to get bored and somewhat destructive and started pulling the metal trim from around the window off and throwing the peices out the window. He also grabbed my arm a few times and I had to just push him away and say no and he would be good for another 20 minutes or so. Interesting trip. I was happy to arrive in Samara and be away from him. I called my new host family and they came to pick me up and bring me to their house. The family is huge, with lots of kids and even more mangy looking dogs around. They have chickens that just sortof wander about and roost in the trees and make a lot of noise, and a few roosters that started cock'a'doodle'doodling around 5am. My room is very simple but so far bug-free, which is pleasing. I have my own bathroom with a cold-water shower, and the people are nice. Last night was the birthday of Alices daughter (Alice is my host "mother") and the festivities were incredibly loud, with music and lots of talking and dancing. It was a fun glimpse into tico life. Alice runs a soda out of her kitchen (sodas are privately run mini-restaurants) and the food so far is decent. This morning my alarm clock was first the roosters and then an hour or so later, the howler monkeys, who are extremely loud, and who seem to be extremely close to the ceiling of my room. I had delicious fresh papaya and pineapple for breakfast and went for a long walk on the beach. I have yet to get more than my feet in the water, but I´m looking forward to a swim. The sun is beyond powerful and my winter white skin is feeling vulnerable, but it´s all good. I´m looking forward to my first day of classes tomorrow morning, and meeting my fellow students, who will hopefully be a good bunch. I´ll write more when there´s more to write. Love to you all!

nearing the end

2007-10-26T03:01:00.000-07:00

One week from today I'll be back stateside, enjoying the comforts of home and trying to make sense of everything that has happened over the last few months. I stay awake thinking about how I dont want this trip to be over and how it feels as though I just left yesterday and now I'm already headed back. Being on the go all the time makes the time fly, but when I really think about all the places I've seen, and look through my pictures, I realize that indeed it has been a while that I've been over here.
I'm now writing this from Simon and Susies lovely apartment in Berlin, which I arrived to yesterday. They've done a nice job with their place, which is nice and open and sunny (or it would be sunny, I can tell, without all the clouds in the sky). They seem more happy and in love than ever, and I'm really really happy to see them both. I have yet to get out and explore this city at all but Susies dad, Remi, is going to take us out on a driving tour of the city later today, which I'm excited for.
The last two weeks in Italy were quite lovely, with lots of great memories in the making. I have to say, though, that I'm glad to be away not so much from the country itself but rather its inhabitants. Italians in general did not make a very good impression on me, and seemed rather pushy and arrogant on the whole. I realize I had a very limited experience with them, but I have a new appreciation for the general courtesy that most people grant to others in the states, and in lots of other European countries, too, but which seemed to be missing in Italy. Mom and I ended up losing track of what day it was in Venice, where we had an apartment bed and breakfast booked for 6 days, and we went back to Rome a day early, which we did not realize until we tried to check in to our hotel there, and the receptionist told us that we were not scheduled to arrive until the following day. Needless to say, we ended up with an extra day in Rome, which was great because we had not really seen all we wanted to in the day and a half that we had at the beginning of the trip. We went to see the Vatican museums and the Sistine Chapel, but were appalled by the lines snaking their way back for what seemed like eternity (we literally could not see the beginning of the line), so we decided to go for a walkabout and come back later to see if the madness had dissipated. We wandered into the square in front of Saint Peters Basilica and lo and behold, who's there but the pope himself, doing is weekly public address.. we could hardly believe our eyes, and were amazed at the fact that we had no intention of attending, as the thousand-or-so other people in the square had, but instead just happened upon him by accident. Pretty cool. When we went back to the line for the Sistine Chapel, we found that the entire line had disappeared and we bought our tickets and joined the throngs inside, but loved it regardless, and were left amazed, like at many other points in our time in Italy, at the power and influence of the church in Italian culture.
Soo.... this could perhaps be my last post for this chapter of my adventures. When I get down about the fact that I'm going home and that the trip is nearly over, I remind myself that not only are the comforts of home going to be delicious, but also that looming in the distance is a perhaps even greater adventure in Costa Rica and Peru, which I have hardly had time to plan or think about, but which I am certain will be wonderful. Lots of good things to look forward to and to reflect upon and to experience here and now... lucky lucky lucky....

Italia

2007-10-13T11:55:00.000-07:00

How incredibly wonderful it is to be exploring such a beautiful place with my best buddy at last! To begin at the beginning, though, the last night I spent in a hostel was probably my most uncomfortable one yet. I arrived to Romes central train-bus station at about 11 pm after a long day of transit to darkness and rain. I've heard so many bad things about Italian men in particular that I was very hesitant to stop and ask for directions, and besides this, the vast majority of people you meet dont speak any English at all. I wandered around a while and after an hour or so of walking in the rain I arrived at my hostel to find out that they had overbooked the rooms and so I sat in the "lobby" (a couple of gross old couches next to the two beds that the Indian dudes who run the place sleep in at night, seperated from the rest of the hostel by only a couple of shower curtains) while they juggled people around to find me a spot. They eventually solved the problem and I got my bed and took a shower after I realized that the 24 people to a shower ratio would lead to a long line in the morning if I were to wait. The guy running the hostel spent over an hour standing in the big window of the room I was in, arguing with his girlfriend and keeping everyone awake. Oi vey. I eventually fell asleep, thinking that the next two weeks would be so far from this sort of reality and that comfort was around the corner. The next morning I made my way to the hotel where I was to meet mom and checked in and was completly elated to see her not long after my arrival. It's so wonderful to be able to share this experience with her! We spent the first two days exploring Rome, which is just as lucious as a city could be. The air itself feels thick and juicy... the huge palm trees and enormous old houses and of course the ancient center with the Pantheon, Colloseum, etc, etc... just amazing. We walked till we could walk no more and ate good food and drank fantastic coffee... wonderful. After our two days in Rome we took a train ride north to Florence where we rented a car and got ridiculously lost trying to find our way into Tuscany, where we have been the last two days. The scenery here is exactly what I had imagined it to be, with huge old vineyards and tall cyprus trees and winding roads. We're pleasantly suprised, as well, to see that there are almost no chains of any kind here. No huge hotels or McDonalds or anything of the sort. The beauty is in what this place is and also what it is not. We've been staying in San Giminiano, a walled midevial city atop a tall hill, with incredible panoramic views and perfectly preserved historical buildings. There are really too many details to even write about, so I'll just say that the trip has been a dream come true thus far and it's more beautiful than I ever imagined it could be. It's great to have a travel companion and it's great to be getting out into the far out places that having a car allows one to see. Fantastically wonderfully beautifully grand. That's it in a nut shell. I'll leave it at that.

Amsterdam fun

2007-10-07T11:25:00.000-07:00

Just arrived in Brussels after four beautiful days in what is my favorite European city yet, Amsterdam. The city itself looks a lot like Bruges but is a much bigger version, with much more action going on and more of a big city feel to it. The buildings are again very typically Dutch... tall and thin with interesting detailing at the roof line and with big windows maximizing the canal views. There are again arching bridges over the canals, which are lined with beautiful old boats of all types of design. Perhaps the highlight of my time in this city, besides Simons company in general, was the afternoon we spent on rented bicycles, touring around the city with the hundreds of thousands of other people on their bicycles. Seriously, besides the architectural beauty of the city, the thing that most struck me, and one of the things I loved most about the city and the attitude of the people who live in it, was the use of bicycles. For them they are a priority, and have been for many many generations, and it is therefore sortof part of the national psyche to use a bike as a daily way of getting to points within the city. The bike paths are thorough and well kept and logical and connect litterally everything within the city. There are people of every age peddaling together, grey hair or training wheels, it's all there. I was really quite struck by the Dutch people and their laid back attitude, where they are very practical and sensible, they are also easy going and are not people to interfere with the decisions of others. Besides this, they all speak impecable English and are entirely polite and welcoming to the tourists who swarm their city. All in all, it was a very accessable city for an outsider. I felt a bit of jealousy for people who get to live in such a lovely society and such a clean and practical city. There are, of course, the neighborhoods that Amsterdam is notorious for, along with all the beauty and practicality, but these neighborhoods, as far as I could tell, were about ninety-five percent tourists looking to partake in any of the miriad activities this city allows, but really, I dont think the Dutch people themselves are frequenting the "coffee shops" or red-light district on any sort of a regular basis. My favorite areas were definetly far away from these places, in the more residential neighborhoods, which frequently have little squares with cafes where people were relaxing and spending their afternoon with friends or reading, and just generally enjoying the lovely afternoon from what I could see. All in all, Amsterdam was wonderful and I hope that I'll one day be able to return for perhaps a longer bit of time. I was instantly trying to come up with ideas as to how I could reasonably find employment to stay for a bit of time. We'll see... :-) It was also wonderful to spend a bit of time with my beloved brother and get to experience a foreign place with him, no matter if only for a couple of days. Today I'm in Brussels, where there is a nice older neighborhood center surrounded by a lot of financial/industrial sort of buildings. I'm only here for two days and will spend them washing my laundry and repacking my bag in preparation for Itlay, which I'm totally psyched for. It's amazing that I'll be there in only a couple of days, and mom will be there, and it will be warm and wonderful. It's all great and exciting and fantastic. I feel so lucky to be over here.

Bruges!!!

2007-10-02T05:07:00.000-07:00

I think I've landed in a little piece of heaven. After the busy busy streets and OH-so-crowded metros of Paris, I took a train north to Brussels (first class due to a very nice train station ticket window guy who gave me a sweet deal), and then another train further north to Bruges, a city that will forever bring to mind the Europe that I always wished to see. Its seriously beyond me to adequately describe this place with words. It's like landing in the middle of a fairytale except that there are people who actually live and work here and it's not just a make-believe village built to appease tourists who are searching for "old world Europe". Everywhere you look is a flawless vision of a 15th century Flemish village, with canals cutting through every direction and little arched stone bridges, and tiny, winding cobblestone streets and huge peaked stable doors. The main square has spiring cathedrals that have bell chimes at each hour (I've heard this is one of few cities in Europe who still employs a full time bell chimer for their main squares clocktower). Today the air is thick with cool moisture, not rain, but very atmospheric, and the light has a very soft look to it, making for what I hope will turn out to be beautiful photos.
There are, of course, tourists absolutely everywhere. I try my hardest to get away from them though and go for walks in the fringes of the city, away from the shops and public squares, and try to feel for what it is like for those who live here. There's a little bar underneath my hostel where I've been getting a pint of different Belgian beer each night of my stay and I talked for a while last night with a man who has lived here his entire life and says he wouldn't imagine living anywhere else. I told him he was lucky to live surrounded by such beauty, which I'm sure he already realized. My hostel has been one of the best on this trip thus far, in a 500 year old building, and thanks to the hostel-bed-placement gods, I got the best bed in the house, right next to the window, with a view of the magnificent church across the street to fall asleep and wake up to.
I am a bit sad to leave but I must. This city will certainly be one of my top suggestions to anyone who in the future might ask me where I would recommend travelling in Europe. Tomorrow I go to Amsterdam, where I'm extremely excited to meet up with Simon for a couple of days of carousing. I miss my brother and very much look forward to some good catching up. Lots to look forward to, but this moment now is still so sweet.

Sickly Paris

2007-09-26T09:37:00.000-07:00

During my last night in Dublin I felt a tickle in my throat developing and so I made myself a really healthy dinner and got to bed early to try to turn things around for my long travel day the next day. I got up before the sun, packed my things in the dark to avoid waking everyone else in my room, and in doing so left my watch behind, much to my frustration. I made it to my 6:45 bus and was again on my way. I arrived to Paris Beauvais airport, which is a tiny one-terminal airport in the middle of a huge agricultural area. I got a bus to the city center, got severly confused by the metro map and eventually found someone who spoke a little bit of English and could point me in the right direction. I eventually found my hostel, checked in and just dropped my bag and headed out to get lost. I was promptly decended upon by paritculrly annoying and persistent men who didn't seem to think it would be a problem that I spoke virtually no French. Mere details. oi vey. I eventually elluded the most annoying one by running into the middle of a huge crowd of people outside Sacre Couer Basillica. However, I was not long left alone and a much nicer guy named Amine ended up showing me around for the better part of the day. I saw the Moulin Rouge and Eiffel Tower (really quite a nice moment for the fact that it had stopped raining moments before, the clouds parted to a bright blue sky, and there was a beautiful rainbow soaring over the tower). We sat on a bench and talked as much as was possible considering Amines broken English and my broken vocal chords. By the time I refused Amines invitation to dinner, I could barely speak. I went back to the hostel and met my room-mates, three girls from Slovenia, who were really fun and a bit disappointed when I refused their invitation to go out drinking with them. I instead went to sleep early and tried to concentrate on getting better. Unfortunately I did not wake up feeling any better, but took some Motrin and headed out anyway. I wore my iPod earphones all day with no music playing in an attempt to thwart off the annoying men, which luckily worked quite well. I went to the Louvre, through the huge gardens outside the Louvre to the Champs Elyseé and to the Arch d'Triumph. Everything is beautiful and well kept here and so far I have not met anyone rude, as their reputation in the US always made me think they would be. I only wish that I didn't feel as though I'm about to collapse at any moment, which I'm sure will pass. I know I shouldn't be walking for miles and miles but I find it impossible to think of not exploring such a place. Anyhow, this message is taking forever to write because the letters on the keyboard are all in different places, so I'm going to call this done and get back to the hostel and to bed early again. Hope all is well on the homefront. I keep having dreams of returning but then in all these dreams I realize toward the end that it's just a dream and that I still have a lot more to go. I have a countdown to Italy, and more imortantly to seeing Mom, but in the meantime, know that you're all here with me, if only in dreams. Love to you all.

last days in Ireland

2007-09-22T10:09:00.000-07:00

Three more days on this lovely isle and I'm off for the next phase of this journey. I have mixed feelings on leaving because really, it's been amazing. I finished working on the farm yesterday and was a bit sad in leaving today. Although the work was hard (really hard at times), the people were really quite wonderful and made me feel like I wanted to stay longer. Perhaps one day I'll return, who knows... next time I'll bring a car, so I wont have to hitchhike everywhere I go (although this proved to be a great way to meet a fun array of people!). Anyhow, I'm back in Cork right now, staying again with Denises friend Anne, and the family she works for. We'll be here two days and then I'm off on my own again, headed for Dublin for one night and then off to Paris early on Tuesday. I'm sad also to say goodbye to Denise, who has been a grand commerade in the last three weeks. We've shared some unforgettable moments and I'm really just eternally grateful for the gods throwing us together. Tonight we're going out to some pubs to drink a few more Bulmers and hear some music and inevitably be decended upon by charming drunken Irishmen (I dont think I've mentioned yet how incredibly fun the pubs are here... another thing I'll definetly miss!).
Anyhow, onward and upward! I'm psyched to see Paris and I'm sure it will be an adventure unto itself.
Today is my one-month point, and I'm absolutely amazed at how much has happened in the short span of 30 days. I think that a lot of you reading this think I've had bad luck and that things have not gone well, but really, in my eyes, things have gone flawlessly and I'm grateful for all the crazy/fun/weird things that have happened. All money in the bank as far as life experience goes.
I'll let y'all know I'm alive once I've landed on the continent.
till then,
xoxo

improvements

2007-09-15T04:28:00.000-07:00

Things are looking up this last week, thank god. It's been a strange trip thusfar, as you all know, but certainly not uneventful. After escaping seven directions Denise and I went back to Cork, stayed in a hostel for a night and I arranged our last farm trial, this time at a place called the Unicorn Eco Foundation, a farm aimed at self sufficiency, who had a lovely website that had pictures giving us hope that it would be semi-liveable. We took the evening bus to Glengarriff and got off at yet another little village stop in Ballylicky, this time very far to the west in a very dramatic landscape not far from the ocean. We were met at the gas station which was also the bus stop by a nice English lad who brought us, along with his brother who come to find out, was on the same bus all the while, out to the farm. It was dark when we arrived so we had little idea as to what the area surrounding us was like. We buzzed down long dirt roads, listening to Fairport Convention, and I had a good feeling that we were going somewhere nice. We arrived to total darkness and were led to our caravan (trailer) that would be our new home. Again, it's not luxury living, but the beds were comfortable and we were happy to at least be in the presence of good people. A bit of discomfort is liveable when you like the people you're working with and for. We were led to one of the larger houses on the property and were introduced to Vickie, our new wwoof host, who is a really lovely, kind, and welcoming woman who made us tea and sat down to talk for a while. The next morning we woke up to an absolutely spectacular view out our camper window. Huge rocky mountains soaring up in every direction and a valley directly in front of us with horses grazing about and birds singing everywhere. Just incredibly beautiful. The work has been decent thus far, and varied, a bit of weeding, some mixing of concrete for the footings of a bridge they're building for their newly constructed pond, some shoveling silt from a river bed (not my favorite job thus far), digging up onions, etc, etc. We eat two meals a day on a rotating schedule among the three main people living out here. They're all really kind and I've had a great time talking with all of them. Each of them has an interesting story as to how they have gotten to where they are today. The farm itself is really impressive. The main house is the most energy efficient dwelling in all of Ireland and runs on less than one euro per day (and it's a massive house!). They're building a pond to raise their own fish, and a greenhouse to grow their own food, they have an elaborate wastewater treatment system using reed beds and different wetland plants to digest their waste, and they do most all the work themselves, along with the help of wwoofers and short term resident specialists. All in all, it's good and I'm grateful to finally have landed somewhere decent for the last of my time in Ireland. At the same time I'm excited to move on from the wwoof life and get back to traveling around a bit more. It's a beautiful place I'm living for now, but I get claustrophobic sometimes and just want to keep the adventure going. So, I've booked a flight to Paris for the 25th and will be staying in the city for five days before attempting to make my way to Rome via buses and trains. Talking with a French man who is on the farm, I've been told that this is quite a long trip, but I feel confident I'll make it in time to meet mom on the 9th of October. I'm a bit nervous to be going somewhere non-English speaking, but I feel a bit more prepared through my time in England and Ireland at least, and I'm sure it will all be fine. Thank you to everyone who has written me words of support after my last posting. Really, it was more funny than horrifying, and it all just adds to the adventure. I'll let you all know I'm alive once I'm in Paris. Till then, a'dieu.

My weirdest day yet

2007-09-11T06:49:00.000-07:00

Ok... so things just get more interesting every day. I just sat at a cafe in Cork again and wrote down the events of the last 24 hours so that I would remember them in detail. Instead of recapping it here, I'll just copy my journal verbatum.
Sept 11, 2007:
"Sitting at a cafe in Cork City right now, feeling like I should put down the events of the last 24 hours so that my memory of them will be strengthened when I look back.
Took the early bus to Mogeely and arrived around noon to another sleepy little town with very little going on. I left Denise with the packs and went off to find some place that looked open so that I could ask where the lady in the tipee lived, as this was the directions I was given to find the new farm. There was little life to be seen and as I rounded the corner I saw a punky hippie kind of girl walking down the street. I stopped her to ask where I should go, only to find out that she was, in fact, looking for me, too. We went back to Denise and collected our bags and were on our way to the farm. The walk was about 15 minutes uphill, not too fun, especially for Denise, whose pack is excessively heavy with tons of extraneous bundles tied to the exterior. We came to a point where there was a tiny dirt path branching off the main road which we were led down, walking all the while on wood planks that lined the walk. As we neared the farm strange curiosities began to show up in abundance - a tree with televisions, phones, and doorknobs hanging from ropes beneath its boughs, horses roaming freely through a field with a few chickens and home-made structures mixed in. We were led first to our accomodation- two A-frame simple tents that were lined with plastic on the outside and patchworked carpets on the inside. The "beds" were wood palates with thick layers of cushions and FILTHY blankets strewn about. These tents smelled as if they were occupied by horses and dogs before they were occupied by dirty hippies who never showered and instead bathed in mud and then rolled around in the bedding. We dropped our bags and were brought out again to meet Astrid, the matriarch of the seven directions farmstead. We were led again down wood board covered dirt paths to what basically looked from the outside to be a pile of garbage covered by thick clear plastic. There was a small doorway into the dome. Inside there was intensely thick clutter everywhere - weird random objects, books, clothing, cats and dogs, dishes, drums, boxes filled with who-knows-what, empty tobacco envelopes, half drunk cups of tea, and a little lady named Astrid, who emerged from the clutter but who could have meshed back into it like a ghost into a patch of fog. She stood no more than 5 feet high and spoke with a thick French accent - she was smoking a cigareette with a long wood handle and had a strange half smile on her face as she walked toward us to welcome us to her strange, very distorted reality. Carolina, the hippie chick who had picked us up, excused herself to return to her weeding, and Denise and I stayed to have a chat with Astrid. She offered us tea, which I denied, and Denise politely accepted. She rummaged through a pile of junk until she found a coffee mug, and prepared the drink which had a thick layer of dust floating on its surface. We sat down on half broken piano stools and talked a bit about life, a bit about gardening. Astrid seemed to have had an exceptionally strange life which was really no suprise considering how she was living now. She had been living in this tent for 11 years and was originally living with a number of other characters who had since left the farm to persue other realities. We eventually got up to take the "grand tour" of the property. She showed us the polytunnels where they grow their food (these were the cleanest and most well kept spots on the property), the "bathroom" and "shower" which Denise and I explored more later, and the skeleton of a structure in the midst of being built. There were other plastic dome like homes we did not go inside of but that were surely equally weird to the rest. Scattered throughout the property were strange objects in strange places... mannequin bodies hanging out of trees, strange messages written out of broken peices of street signs and license plates and so on. We were assigned the task of picking green beans and planting some peas in one of the polytunnels. We were quickly devising our plan of escape once we were left alone. We picked beans and tried to adjust to the situation we found ourselves in. I questioned whether I could last a week - just roughing it out- I decided that if I did, I would just wear the same clothes every day, not take any showers, get really disgusting, and then escape to the city again where I could wash the filthy experience away. We heard clanging of pans outside and I found Carolina to ask whether it was a signal of some sort. She told me that it was the dinner bell. We saw Astrid coming toward us with a bag of food. She said she was not going to join us as she was not hungry, and so she gave the bag to Carolina and we were led to the dining area, another plastic covered, carpet lined structure, this time with two walls opened to the elements, again surrounded by crazy objects and messages scribed all over the walls. The table, plates, chairs, and floor were all coated with a thick layer of dirt, as was Carolina herself, once I got a closer look. The lunch was unpacked from the bag - a bowl of lettuce, some bread, and some pasta mixed with eggs, mayonnaise, and cucumber (and, as Denise and I both later found, a good quantity of dog hair). We were served all of this with filty silverware onto filty plates, and we sat down to the filty table on our filthy chairs and ate with our filthy hands, unwashed after our work in the garden due to the fact that a sink did not exist on the entire farm. The food, combined with the experience, was a repulsing mix. We ate anyway, and talked with Carolina, who was a crazy hippie with the dirtiest hands one could ever imagine. She had cut off all her hair so that she would not have to shower often and to fend off her stench she just put on copius amounts of patchouli oil, which wafted off her everyhwere she went. When the meal was over, we walked back to Astrids tent where Carolina put all the dirty dishes into a bucket of murky brown water in order to "wash" them.
Denise and I said we were going to return to our work and once out of earshot, began devising our escape in earnest. On our way back to the polytunnel we stopped to check out the bathroom and shower situation in more detail - what looked like a pile of carpet layered on a wood frame. One side was the "shower" which was a linolium square on the ground with a hose hanging down from above. The other half of the structure was the toilet, which was no more than a hole in a board with a toilet seat fastened above, all of which was covered in a thick layer of what I hoped was dirt and not dried excrement.
This moment was the last straw for both of us. We took a few photos to remember this strange dream and went back to our tents to collect our belongings. I wrote a quick note saying that the situation was not what we had expected and that we were on our way. I tacked it to Carolinas door, we grabbed our packs, waited for the coast to be clear, and made a break for it. We ran up the dirt path and back to the road and put out our thumbs to catch a ride back to reality. A man from the nearby cheese factory stopped for us and brought us to Castlemartyr, the closest semi-larger town, where we got a bus back to Cork City, where we checked into a hostel for the night. We called another farm that I had talked to earlier, one which has a website with pictures making it look semi normal and liveable. They told us that they had room for us and now here we are, waiting for another bus to another farm. I certainly hope this one will be more reasonable than the last two. I seriously doubt that it could get any worse or any weirder. This will be my last attempt at the whole farm thing... if it doesn't work out this time, I'm just going to travel about and stay in hostels for a while longer.. What a crazy trip this has been"

So, family and friends, there you have it: the next installment of my crazy adventure. I seriously fall asleep laughing every night at how crazy it's been... I never could have anticipated this. I'll keep you all posted as to what comes next. Pray for me! :-)

free at last!

2007-09-08T06:34:00.000-07:00

Wow... what a crazy 24 hours I've had... After writing that last post I returned with Denise and her friend Anne-Marie to the hotel where Mark was playing his gig and sat down at the tables outside and had a drink and listened to the music. The band took a break for a half hour or so and Mark came out and introduced us to a couple of his friends and they proceeded to go back to a dark back area of the deck, out of sight of any of the people outside. When Mark came back ten minutes later he was sniffling his nose a lot and had a glazed over look in his eye... like he was about to pass out or something. I knew well enough what was going on (aided by the fact that on the ride into town he had told me all about his "drug years" and how he was now clean... He also claimed to be a safe driver, so I knew he was clearly delusional). He went back inside and the band started up again. Denise and I quickly flew into action as to how we were going to avoid getting in the car with him in the state he was in. The ride into town was bad enough and we did not want to find out what the ride back would be like under the influence of a few lines of cocaine and a couple of pints of beer. We went to a taxi stand and found out it would be about 80-euro to get a taxi back to Clonakilty, where we would have to proceed to walk to the farm, about two hours by foot on very dark, very narrow country lanes. The next option, and the one that we went with, was to stay with Anne-Marie at the house where she is an au pair. I told Mark we would catch the first bus in the morning to get back, to which he dared respond "well... I suppose that's alright... it just means you'll have to work late" (such a fucking slave driver!). I said we would be ok with that and that we would see him tomorrow. We caught a bus to the area of Cork where Anne-Marie lives and a little past midnight we arrived and were welcomed in by Marie and Dominique, two of the kindest people I've met in my life. They brought us cold drinks and sat us down to talk about the situation. They were genuinely concerned with the situation and Dominique insisted that he would bring us to Clonakilty in the morning to collect our belongings and clear out of the farm. We slept in comfortable guest beds with clean white linens and real bonafide pillows... bliss... Dominique woke up early and brought us to Clonakilty, over an hour each way, bless his heart. We were delighted to find both Mark and Debbie gone... we packed up as fast as we could and bid farewell to that god-foresaken place. I let out a sigh of relief as we drove away, knowing it was the end of a strange, sometimes scary, sometimes hillarious situation that I will certainly never forget for the rest of my days.
Denise and I have decided to look for a farm together to go to next week, and in the meantime, Dominique and Maria have told us we can stay at their house as long as we need in order to get a new plan worked out. Angels, I tell you!
I sometimes feel like I'm caught up in either a dream or a movie, where I dont know what the next plot turn will be. I'm intreagued to see what happens next, and I'm quite sure it couldn't get any worse. I'm happy despite the craziness though. I'm delighted to be off the farm and on with new things. I'll let you all know what my next move will be once I know. LOVE YOU ALL!!!! mwa! (that's a kiss for each of you!)

oi

2007-09-07T12:06:00.000-07:00

well, I'm still alive. That's good. I'm writing from Cork City right now, where Mark (the wwoof host) has a gig tonight playing salsa music at a hotel. The ride in was absolutely HARROWING!!! I've seriously never been in such a fast, unsafe situation in my life and I prey that I get back to the farm alive tonight, and will not leave again unless on my own two feet or on bicycle wheels. Seriously, I wanted to scream at him the whole way in. OI VEY.
Anyhow, farm life is... well... It's hard to think of the right word.... I'm at least getting used to the abuse. For the last week I have done 21 hours of weeding and 14 hours of turning hay out in a field. THANK GOD for my new friend Denise, who makes it entirely liveable for the fact that we can complain to one another and make up ridiculous stories about what we could do for pay back once we leave. Our best idea yet is to save every slug or snail we see in a jar until the end of the month (giving them food to stay alive, of course) and then setting them all free in the greenhouse the day we leave to have their way with the food inside. The other idea is to set the goat free on their flower garden. That would be equally delicious payback. We've renamed Mark "vassa kopf" (water head) because there's not much upstairs besides hot air and a bit of water, and we've named Debbie "the tiger". We have good laughs coming up with stories of the adventures of "Vassa Kopf and The Tiger" while we're working. So.... things are ok I suppose. I know that I'll look back at this experience and laugh a lot. Meanwhile, my face is completely sunburned and I have really pronounced farmer tan lines on my wrists from my work gloves and my arms from my t-shirt. Oh well, I guess. My blisters are also pretty impressive. At the end of the day I pour myself a glass of wine (which I brought from town last weekend... a bit of luxury amidst the pain and isolation) and cross one more day off my countdown calendar. I'm looking forward to being done but at least I have a friend now, and stronger muscles, and the prospect of brighter things in the future. At least it's not raining (famous last words....)

First days on the farm

2007-09-02T04:51:00.000-07:00

I arrived late Friday night after a long bus journey from Galway to West Cork. Mark picked me up at the bus stop, which was completely pitch black dark and seemingly in the middle of absolutely nowhere. After a short drive to the farm, I was introduced to my new living situation, which was pretty much what I had expected: a trailer near the main farmhouse with absolutely nothing luxurious about it. There's a kitchen with a hotplate, sink, fridge, and microwave, a bathroom with a decent bathtub but very little hot water and a leaky toilet, two bedrooms, and a living room with nothing more than a couch and a table. Because it was late, I pretty much went to sleep right away on what is, I'm sure, the most uncomfortable, lumpy bed I'll ever sleep on. I woke up early and got a good look around my surroundings, which made up for the horrible bed and leaky toilet... kindof... In the listing for the farm it had said that it was located in Clonakilty and that it was a fifteen minute walk into town, which I figured ment a fifteen minute walk into Clonakilty, which I had read about and knew to be a cute town with lots of shops and places to see music at night. However, the reality of the situation is that it is a fifteen minute walk into the TINY village of Rathbarry, which is a sortof sub-village of Clonakilty. Clonakilty itself is more than a half hour by bicycle and probably an hour and a half by foot. Rathbarry itself is literally no more than a post office and a pub and nothing else. So much for thinking I'd be able to go out to see music after working for the day. Sooo.... that was a bit of a disapointment. It is a short walk from the beach, however, so at least I'll have that as a destination for the afternoons where I get off work and want to get away for a while.

The farm itself is rather lovely. It's atop a large hill with the ocean in the distance to one side and rolling hills covered in pastures of cows and sheep in every other direction. Ireland as I had imagined it, for sure. The farm house is rather modern in terms of Irish farmhouses. The owners, Mark and Deb, bought the house two years ago and renovated the place to their own liking, which is sortof an artsy, more alternative style than most of the homes surrounding. There's a polytunnel (plastic greenhouse) and they have one enormous goat named Alexandra, who lives right outside my bedroom window, which was a suprise when I woke up and pulled the shades open to see her peering in. There's also ducks, an orchard, a field for straw, and lots of flowers everywhere. Mark and Deb are both quite nice, although I already see that they dont have any reservations about airing their marital disputes in front of anyone who might be there at the moment, which can be a bit awkward. They have two 8 month old twin boys who keep them busy along with all the work they put into their farm, which provides them with probably about 80 percent of the food they eat. It's most certainly not an easy lifestyle that they live and I respect them for the fact that they persue it to the extent they do. I dont think I could live in such isolation myself though. Deb is English and has a sortof vivacious, bubbly personality and Mark is a proud Dutchman who speaks with a Dutch/English/Irish hybrid accent. He's rather intense and opinionated and definetly lets you know if you're doing something in a way that he would not advise. I think I'll get along with them fine though. I'm glad to at least have some space of my own to get away for a while in the evening. I'd feel a little like I was walking on shells if I were to have to share their living space with them.

Yesterday was my first full day of work. I was assigned to weed around all the trees in the orchard and spent a full 7 hours doing so. Oi vey. I tried to enjoy it as much as possible but periodically questioned why I wasn't at home pulling weeds for mom and sleeping in my much much more comfortable bed. I'm over thinking like that, though, and I remind myself that my comfortable bed and Shelburne, and the people I love most will all be there when I return, and this will be an experience that not many people get to have and so I should maximize it. It's not all bad, anyway. We take a "coffee" break around noon (I put coffee in parentheses because their coffee is powdered and not nearly to the standard of American coffee, but I try to enjoy it as much as possible. At least it's warm.) There's also a dinner break around 3:00, which is the main meal of the day. I enjoyed this very much yesterday, considering that I've been eating canned soup and jelly sandwiches almost exclusively during my hostel days, in order to save money. Mark is a good cook and made a delicious veggie dish with all things grown on the farm, and a mushroom soup and some pasta. These breaks make the monotony of weeding a little less severe, and besides, I'm promised that I will not be weeding every day and that there will be more stimulating projects coming in the future.

Today a new girl is coming out from Germany, who will also be living in the trailer. I prey that she's cool and that we get along well. I'm actually excited to meet her and I hope that she'll be a good commerade who will go out to the pub with me once in a while, and who I can play chess with in the evenings, or at least talk to during our work.

Today is Sunday and I rode Marks bike into town. The ride was absolutely beautiful, past farm after farm after farm, with lots of pastures of cows in between. This area is known as a dairy center for Ireland and during the day farmers come yipping down the street after their herds, moving them from pasture to the milking parlors and then back out to pasture. Tomorrow its back to work (it was good planning on my part to start on a Saturday so that I had the next day off!). The work schedule is 7 hours a day, 6 days a week, which I think is a bit severe, but I'm just going to roll with it and make the best of the situation. I'm constantly reminding myself of the future and of the fact that in a litte over a month, I'll be relaxing in Italy with my wonderful Mother, and then I'll be going to see Simon and Susie, and that I only have to be a "farmer" for one month and then I'll go back to my much more comfortable existance. I'm starting to miss things about home, like my mother, my bed, Pippin the dog, my car, etc, etc... but I guess this experience will make me appreciate all those things more when I get back. I'll write again in a week, after I've had a true week of work. Maybe I'll be a bit more pessimistic then. Really, though, especially you, Dom, dont worry about me! Besides the mini hardships, I'm delighted to be living and working in Ireland and all I have to do is take a look around me to remind myself of that. It's lovely here and I'm getting just what I want from this: Experience! Lots of love to you all!!!

The Good Life: Aran Islands

2007-08-29T01:34:00.000-07:00

The last couple of days have been downright delightful. I gladly left Dublin on a bus headed west to Galway on yet another sunny day! (It has not rained one drop since I arrived in Ireland. Lucky, I'm told) Galway itself was a cute town. Very touristy. It sortof reminded me of an Irish version of Rockport or something. Lots of little shops and cafes, lots of street musicians playing all kinds of Irish music, my favorite being a girl playing beautiful music on her harp. I was only in Galway for half a day really before getting up early to catch a ferry out to Inis Mor, the largest of the three Aran Islands. The ferry ride was about an hour long and very very windy. I see that being a fisherman in these parts, which there are plenty of, would take some tenacity. I checked into my hostel and rented a bicycle to take a look around the island. SO BEAUTIFUL!!! There are only about 600 people who live on this island which is just a little smaller than Manhattan (10 miles long by 2 across). They all speak Gaelic and live a very traditional lifestyle. Lots of the houses are the old fashioned cob plaster with thatched roofs and there are stone walls absolutely EVERYWHERE!! I biked all day, from one end of the island to the other and then back again with a few excursions on some narrow lanes used to bring cows and horses to their pastures. There are some cars here but some of the natives still get around on horse drawn carts. It's seriously like stepping back in time. It's easy to imagine what life would have been like out here a hundred years ago. I went to a world heritage site called Dun Aonghasa which was a huge iron age fort built on the highest ground of the island. All that remanis of it is a stone circle which was at one time the base of an enormous dome shaped fortress. This was built on the very edge of a huge cliff, probably 500 feet tall, plumiting straight down to the sea. Just incredible. Today I woke up early to the sound of gulls outside my window. I ate toast and tea for breakfast out on the deck of the hostel, looking out over the pier. I'm sunburned and hoping that the clouds will stick around today. I surely did not think I'd need to bring sunscreen to Ireland! I'm going to put on my walking shoes and venture out into some of the areas that I could not go yesterday with my bicycle. It's so nice to be out of the city and in such a peaceful and serene place. The sea air is wonderful and the slow pace of life here is refreshing. Two more days and I'll be on the farm. I'm anxious to meet the people I'll be staying with for September but I'm sure it will all be great. I definetly look forward to not moving around quite so much and not having to pack up all my stuff every couple of days. I'll write again once I'm settled down there. Love to you all!!!

Dublin Schmublin

2007-08-25T13:22:00.000-07:00

Today has been a long day. Started out well with a sunny day at last. I ate a breakfast of coffee and raspberries, bid fare well to my London hostel mates, and was on my way. For the record, London was wonderful and I had a great three days walking around and meeting really great people nearly everywhere I went. So... today was a day of transport and little else. A subway to a shuttle to the airport. The flight was only an hour but seriously, that hour was the most intense stereophonic surround sound screaming baby hour I've ever had in my life. Luckily I was in good enough spirits to laugh it off and feel good about having my ipod on hand to block it out as much as was possible. I was also lucky to have a window seat so that I could just stare out at the beautiful patchwork of England's landscape. Once on the ground again I made up an elaborate story of how I know my "friends" in Ireland for the customs officer and was pleased that he believed me and let me into the country. I felt like such a bandita. Once out of the airport I got onto yet another bus which brought me into the center of Dublin where I was promptly completely lost. I wandered into some shop and asked the man at the desk how to get to my hostel and he was kind enough to escort me half way and pointed me in the right direction, which was exceedingly kind of him. I was so relieved to arrive at the hostel where I would finally get to put down my pack and take a hot shower and lie down to read my book. However, this is far from the reality of the situation. I opened the door to my room to find nine half naked Irish dudes simultaneously turn to see who was coming though their door. They were polite enough and said hello, but I got the impression that they were all friends who had come to the city together and were not there as travellers per se. They were all getting ready for a night on the town and their disgusting cologne mixed oh-so-nicely with the inevitable boy stink body odor. mmmm..... Anyhow, I basically just said hello, dropped my pack, and decided to head out and take a look around. My initial impression is that Dublin is a sortof depressed city. It looks quite industrial, with brick row-houses and pub upon pub upon pub. I haven't seen much yet, though, and because I didn't arrive until past 8:00, darkness fell quickly and I didn't get to wander far. I'm glad I'm only staying here two nights and then will be on to greener pastures. I'm needing some country air just about now. So, all in all, I'm having a great time so far, and I figure that days like today are just little trials to persevere through. I remind myself in less than ideal situations that I just have to roll with the punches and everything's going to be just fine. Much love to everyone back home. Till next time....

London!!!

2007-08-22T04:54:00.000-07:00

Oddly enough, I find myself sitting in a shopping mall right now... the last place I'd expect to be on my first day in London. I arrived at about 7:3o a.m. and miraculously found my way from the airport to the area of town where my hostel is located via the underground (thank god for friendly subway employees who guided me on my way!). It's raining steadily outside, as it should be, this being London and all... (thank god, also, for wonderful brothers who give their little sisters things like rain jackets and waterproof backpack covers - Bless you, Si!!). After about an hour on the subway, which was SO much cleaner, better smelling, more punctual, and less full of crazy people than any of the NYC ones, I arrived in Bayswater and found the street that my hostel is on. Because it was still so early I decided to find a semi-dry spot in Kennsington Gardens, which is right down the street from the Hostel, to collect my thoughts and eat the rest of the grapes I had bought at JFK before my flight (this totally reminds me of the first "meal" Kate and I ate in Spain all those years ago). I nearly got hit by a double decker bus because being in my exhausted and semi awe-struck state, I forgot completely that they drive on the opposite side of the street here (duh...). I pulled up a seat under a tree and ate my grapes and watched people playing with their dogs. I wanted to take a nap but figured it wouldn't be good to get in trouble for being asleep under a tree in the park in the first hours of my visit here. Instead, I headed for the hostel, where they let me drop off my backpack early, and headed out again to wander around and see what there is to see in my neighborhood. I sat in a cafe and drank a four dollar cup of coffee (!!!!) and wrote in my journal for a while and now, here I am in this totally American-esque shopping mall writing this so that everyone out there will know I'm alive and I'm ok. So far (that is, about 7 hours into my first day of a three month trip), I'm totally happy to be on my own in a foreign place. I'm excited to see what this journey brings me.

blog virgin

2007-08-05T10:04:00.000-07:00

Ok...so.... This seems a bit like a one way conversation to me. Kindof self-indulgent feeling. The objective of my setting up this blog is to keep my friends and family posted as to my whereabouts while I'm off traveling during the next year and beyond. Right now I'm still in Shelburne, trying to justify the fact that I'm not working by telling myself that there's plenty of time for work, and even though it doesn't feel like it right now, my time wasteage opportunities are about to expire. I'm in a state of semi-denial about the fact that I'm leaving in 16 days, not because I dont want to go... just because I'm not really looking forward to the packing/going crazy trying to wrap up loose ends part of departure. Instead of doing what I'm supposed to be doing (i.e. packing, visiting friends, cleaning, etc.) I've been spending impressive amounts of time watching bees pollinate flowers in my back yard. Sounds strange, but when you really watch them up close, it gives you a real respect for how amazing bees are. It did for me, at least. Anyhow, I'm going to stop writing because this is already starting to be embarrasing. It's easy to just spew stupid crap when there's no face in front of you pleading for you to just stop rambling and get to the point. The point is, I'll be posting stories/observations/ramblings on this page for whoever is interested in reading it, so keep checking back now and then.