Before I start forgetting too much and getting too busy with school, I figured I should jot down my memories of my three weeks in El Paraiso. Why did I wait this long? I knew that it was one of those things that is going to take a long time to retell. There are so many things I could expound on that I could write nearly endlessly on my three weeks there. Where do I even start? That was the question I was trying to figure out when I got back. I think this is one of those stories that will take time to tell, and it will just have to be recounted as things come back to me. So here is part one of that story....
After typing that entry in Otavalo over a month ago - wow, I don't even know if that feels distant or remote... maybe a little of both - I hopped on a bus with my community contact, Gustavo. I had taken some Dramamine on the way to Otavalo because the bus was hitting some bumps, and I can get motion sickness rather easily. Fortunately, that's my only weakness, other than girls, food, procrastinating, my drug habit, and I guess the list goes on....anyways, dramamine has the side effect of making one rather drowsy (although I was supposedly taking the non-drowsy formula), so I slept most of the way to El Paraiso, which is a good thing considering it's a 3 hour bus ride. When I woke up, the scenery had changed completely. I had come from the highlands, where its mainly grassy and the views consist of an amazing backdrop of mountains. Now, I was in a lush semi-tropical area, and it happened to be sprinkling a little rain. The road was completely gravel and dirt, so I worried about my travel health insurance policy. I knew it covered expatriation of my remains, but would they actually go through the trouble of retrieving my body if my body was trapped inside a bus under a mudslide at the bottom of a valley? I doubted it. One of the most amazing things I saw on that ride was a waterfall that had been created by the rainfall. It was only 2 or 3 feet from the side of the bus, and the water ran right across the road after it fell. I wanted to take a picture, but I did not want to attract too much attention so I did not.
Aside: This was kind of a recurrent theme on my trip. I did not take as many pictures as I would've liked, and I did not get as many good shots because if I brought out my camera, it would attract SO much attention. I might as well have worn a sign that said "Please rob me" or "I'm a rich tourist" So I missed out on many good shots, but they'll stay with me in memory, at least until my brain rots.
Plus, these kids that were sitting behind me were laughing at me about how I was sleeping with my eyes open - oh yeah, another one of my eccentricities. Little did they know that I semi-understood Spanish. Haha, who's laughing now?
We made it to the town of Penaharrera (ahhh, it's kind of annoying not being able to type certain characters) where we hopped off. Gustavo had told me that El Paraiso had only 20 families living there, so I looked around thinking we were at El Paraiso and said "Hey, it looks like a pretty big town here. Bigger than I expected." Oh how foolish I was. Gustavo had me wait at a store while he went off somewhere, and a kid at the store asks me a question. I have NO idea what he said. Uh oh, this might be a bad sign.... and it was. Gustavo returns with the news. He had been arranging for us to ride up in the back of this pick-up. It was full before we got on, and we just made it even fuller. I'd say there were at least 20 people on the back of this pick up, and they were all giving me rather curious looks, whether because I was so tall, so Japanese, so ugly, I didn't know.
Riding on the back of a pick-up is one of the simple pleasures I will miss. I loved it from the first moment I got on. Their pick-ups have railings on the sides, so you can stand up in them and enjoy the view, the fresh wind blowing in your face, the bugs flying into your mouth. Unfortunately, this was a pleasure I only got to experience for a short while because we came upon a hill, and there were too many people on the truck, so it could not make it up the hill. In one of the few instances of chivalry or gentlemanly conduct I saw in Ecuador, a few of the men and boys (including me) got off, so that the truck could keep on. The truck went off, and apparently, we were going to run after it in the hopes that we could catch up to it. The truck went probably about a half mile uphill to a flatter area, and we hustled. My cross country legs were pumping, keeping that steady rhythm, and soon, I was at the front of the pack. Uphill, short strides, fast pace. Some of the guys were falling back, out of breath. I was getting a little light-headed, but no, I could keep going. Yeah, I got it.... yep, I'm still ok.... ok...... ok, I think I should stop, my lungs are burning. I don't think I had ever experienced that burning lung sensation swimmers talk about, but I think I did then. We started walking, and the truck is idling up at the top of the hill. I figured he'd wait until we all got up there. Nope, as we were about a quarter mile away, the truck goes off even farther, and we start running after it again. This repeated itself again until we had all given up hope of even catching the truck. I couldn't tell if the driver was playing a cruel joke or being practical, but no one else seemed to find any humor in the situation, so I guess that's how things are done there.
We stroll into town a few minutes later, and it's tiny. I shouldn't even call it a town - it's probably not even a village. Maybe a "gathering" would be a better term. There is a single road that runs along the ridge of a hill, and the gathering is situated on that ridge. While there are 20 families that are a part of that community, only about half of these live near the central area. Others live farther down the street, uphill, downhill, etc.
I'm introduced to Willo, who will be my host father. He seems to be a nice guy, kind of guy that everyone loves. However, I cannot understand a single word he says. Imagine studying the Queen's English, and then, going to rural Georgia to live with a family. I think that's the sort of deal I had. I had learned pretty proper Spanish (although I guess that varies where you are), and these people were speaking in their rural slang-riddled tongue. Not until my second day there did I realize that they pronounce all of their "ll" like an English "j", and they even pronounce "rr" and "r" at the end of words like that. And as luck would have it, it seemed that my family in particular spoke with a stronger accent than any other family I encountered there.
I had arrived just in time for a "mista." I take my dictionary out of my pocket to look it up. No "mista" to be found. He points in the direction of a gathering of many people by the building, and then starts talking about how someone had died. Ohhh, a mass.... or "misa." See what I'm saying about their pronunciation? We head over, and since the small building is packed, we stand outside, and I can catch fragments of sentences.... Dios.... padre.... santo..... Cristo..... Yoski. Yeah, weird, huh? Afterwards, we head across the street to somebody's yard where their serving food. Chicken, potatoes, lettuce. Pretty typical Ecuadorian meal. I worried about the lettuce. Is this the meal that's going to make me sick? I had yet to get sick, but I was worried that the next meal would be the one to do it. Oh well, only one way to find out. Someone was walking around serving some nice chicha to wash it all down. I had never had it, but they explained to me that it is a drink made using panela, their unprocessed cane sugar. Basically, you mix some water with the sugar, throw in some herbs or fruit if you have any, and let it ferment, so theoretically, it's safe to drink since the alcohol kills everything. However, I was confused about the alcohol part. While the drink had a little carbonation, it lacked any identifiable alcohol flavor, and it did not get me anywhere near tipsy (and you know me, it takes very little). I never discovered how this worked, but I don't think I got sick from it, so it worked somehow. Willo introduced me to his brother Pedro, who offered me some aguadiente. This also is made from panela (it's one of the main things they make here), but it's distilled, so it's basically like a rum. Lonely Planet claims that it's not so great, but whatever I had wasn't too bad at all. Funny thing is, they drink any sort of alcohol from the smallest cups. Beer they drink out of those cups you get at the dentist's office for rinsing your mouth out. Hard liquor? One of those cups you use to drink syrupy medicine out of. While their containers are small, and they seem to have little tolerance, their stamina is pretty incredible. I went to bed that night, but many people stayed up, drinking through the night, and still drinking even when I was going around the next morning around 10. But that's another story, and another entry since this one is getting long enough. More to come soon.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Friday, July 07, 2006
Beginning of the End
Today is the beginning of the end. I taught my last class, and left my community of El Paraiso for the metropolis (it´s all relative) of Otavalo where I finally have a chance to access the internet after three weeks without it. It was a pretty amazing experience overall. I´ll describe it more when I have more time (and the internet is free), but I thought I´d make a quick list of things I will miss (and not miss).
Things I will miss:
The kids
The slow pace of life
Fresh squeezed juices (including tomato juice that tastes like orange juice)
Lots of food (yes, they eat LOTS of food here, and this is coming from my appetite)
The great views from everywhere
Fresh food
Clothes that are dried on a clothesline in the sun
Things I will not miss:
Getting sick
The same starchy food everyday (though I think I´ve gotten rather used to it)
How they put too much panela (raw cane sugar) in the coffee
How they fry everything in Crisco (though this is another things I´ve gotten rather used to)
Waking up to roosters every morning (again, another thing I´ve gotten rather used to)
It´s kind of hard to think of many negatives since right now, and I think it´ll be harder to think of them the more removed I am from this place. I remember there were a lot of things that I found inconvenient when I first arrived, but I got rather used to them now that I almost forget about them. There are definitely more positives that I will appreciate when I get back to the States as well. I´ll have more to say later. Ciao!
Things I will miss:
The kids
The slow pace of life
Fresh squeezed juices (including tomato juice that tastes like orange juice)
Lots of food (yes, they eat LOTS of food here, and this is coming from my appetite)
The great views from everywhere
Fresh food
Clothes that are dried on a clothesline in the sun
Things I will not miss:
Getting sick
The same starchy food everyday (though I think I´ve gotten rather used to it)
How they put too much panela (raw cane sugar) in the coffee
How they fry everything in Crisco (though this is another things I´ve gotten rather used to)
Waking up to roosters every morning (again, another thing I´ve gotten rather used to)
It´s kind of hard to think of many negatives since right now, and I think it´ll be harder to think of them the more removed I am from this place. I remember there were a lot of things that I found inconvenient when I first arrived, but I got rather used to them now that I almost forget about them. There are definitely more positives that I will appreciate when I get back to the States as well. I´ll have more to say later. Ciao!
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Hace una semana
Ok, this is kind of weird. I´m on the blogger website, but everthing is in Spanish! Anyways, just a brief recap of the past week. It´s probably going to be rather disjointed, and I feel my Spanish is getting better at the expense of my English, so disculpame.
I think I left off where I arrived in Quito. I managed to find my way to the main bus station, Terminal de Terrestre and catch a bus to La Hacienda Picalqui, about an hour and a half away. On the way there, they were playing the Japan game on the TV on the bus (TVs in vehicles seem to be pretty ubiquitous here), but unfortunately they lost in the last few minutes. Fortunately, this was not a sign of my luck since I made it to the Hacienda in one piece. My first day, I met Stuart, the director of the volunteer program, and Ronin, my Irish-British roommate, who taught me such useful phrases as ¨Dios le page¨- may God pay you - and some Quechua words such as hangover, which I have since forgotten. Wednesday night, some of us headed into Quito to experience World Cup fever here in Ecuador. Having won its first game, the Ecuadorians have been in high spirits, and this game basically determined whether they would move on to the next round. Thursday morning, our plan was to find the biggest screen in town, which was supposed to be in this big park by the Mariscal Sucre (modern, new Quito). Much to our disappointment, the sceen was 4 big screen TVs put together so there was a big cross running through the middle of the view. We decided to watch it elsewhere, and we ended up in the Ecudaorian version of IHOP, with overpriced food, but at least we had a good view of the game. And of course, they won, so the entire town was in a god mood. I left that day to come back to the hacienda, and resume normal life.
Now normal life here has been quite interesting. Here are a random sampling of experiences I´ve had in my first week.
- The bus system here is amazing. There are so many buses, and you can basically go anywhere on them. They are also amazingly cheap. I took a probably 3-4 mile bus ride and it cost me a grand total of 14 cents. However, on the Pan-American highway, the main highway that runs the length of South America and is very hilly here, the bus drivers drive like they´re in a video game race. They pass each other on the most dangerous looking hills and turns, with hundred foot drops on one side, but somehow they make it.
- People have some strange names here. I expected the stereotypical Juan, Maria, etc. Not necessarily. I have my meals with two families. One family, the father is Frederman, mother Lucia. Not too bad. Then, the first three kids are a textbook of Russian history: Vladimir, Estallyn, Llenyn, followed by Ronny and Patricia. The other family is composed of Luis and Esperanza, whose kids are Brian, Erica, Magdali? (Maggy). Last night, I dined with the latter family, and it was an amazing experience. Maybe because my Spanish has improved, but I could actually semi-converse with the kids. After dinner, I taught the kids how to make origami cranes and ninja stars, and Erica made me one of those friendship bracelets. How awesome.
- Working on the farm has been pretty cool. Most of the stuff we eat is straight off the farm. Yesterday, I helped cut some alfalfa for the cuyes (guinea pigs). By some, it was probably at least a football fields worth, so it was quite a lot. And they do this all by hand. It was fine for one day, and actually, I only helped in the morning, but man, I don´t know if I could do this every day of my life. The previous few days, I basically helped weed the vegetable gardens. I think yesterday had to be my most interesting overall moment on the hacienda, however. Not because of the cutting of wild alfalfa but my early morning experience. Stuart, the director, arranged for me to help milk the cows in the morning since I had never milked a cow before. I was quite pumped since it seems so romantic in that rustic, farmy way. Anyways, I start milking the cow, and all´s well. I hear Johnny (yes, he´s Ecuadorian) behind me, and of course, his squirts of milk sound bigger than mine, but it´s ok, size isn´t everything. Then, my cow procedes to pee, and by pee, it was more like a bucket of piss was coming out of its rearend. It splashed everywhere, and I had to pick up the bucket so none would get in the bucket. A few minutes later, I go over to work the other side with my back to a cow that is not being milked. I hear ¨splat splat splat¨ and I feel something hit the back of my head. Lo and behold, the cow had taken a humongous dump, and it had splattered against my backside. I needed to do laundry anyways, but that just made the laundry even more urgent. I did my laundry after lunch, and I have since discovered that doing laundry by hand is an art form. When I did my laundry by hand, things did not get clean - they just got less dirty. So, sorry Gene, the pants I borrowed from you are still kind of dirty mas o menos.
- Right now I´m in Otavalo, a place famous for its wool market every Saturday. I´m on my way to the community where I´ll stay these next three weeks called El Paraiso. It´s supposed to be gorgeous - in the Intag River valley, lush semi-tropical environment. There, I´m supposed to teach the kids, and I´m excited and anxious at the same time. I know my Spanish has a long way to go, and this will be a great opportunnity to learn it, but it kind of makes me anxious at the same time. I´ve always believed that I could do anything pretty well if I spent enough time on it, so this will be my chance to prove it. Vamos a mirar. I need to hop on the bus soon, which is supposed to be a 3 hour ride, so I´m going to leave it at that. Wish me luck and pray for me, if you do that kind of thing. Ciao!
I think I left off where I arrived in Quito. I managed to find my way to the main bus station, Terminal de Terrestre and catch a bus to La Hacienda Picalqui, about an hour and a half away. On the way there, they were playing the Japan game on the TV on the bus (TVs in vehicles seem to be pretty ubiquitous here), but unfortunately they lost in the last few minutes. Fortunately, this was not a sign of my luck since I made it to the Hacienda in one piece. My first day, I met Stuart, the director of the volunteer program, and Ronin, my Irish-British roommate, who taught me such useful phrases as ¨Dios le page¨- may God pay you - and some Quechua words such as hangover, which I have since forgotten. Wednesday night, some of us headed into Quito to experience World Cup fever here in Ecuador. Having won its first game, the Ecuadorians have been in high spirits, and this game basically determined whether they would move on to the next round. Thursday morning, our plan was to find the biggest screen in town, which was supposed to be in this big park by the Mariscal Sucre (modern, new Quito). Much to our disappointment, the sceen was 4 big screen TVs put together so there was a big cross running through the middle of the view. We decided to watch it elsewhere, and we ended up in the Ecudaorian version of IHOP, with overpriced food, but at least we had a good view of the game. And of course, they won, so the entire town was in a god mood. I left that day to come back to the hacienda, and resume normal life.
Now normal life here has been quite interesting. Here are a random sampling of experiences I´ve had in my first week.
- The bus system here is amazing. There are so many buses, and you can basically go anywhere on them. They are also amazingly cheap. I took a probably 3-4 mile bus ride and it cost me a grand total of 14 cents. However, on the Pan-American highway, the main highway that runs the length of South America and is very hilly here, the bus drivers drive like they´re in a video game race. They pass each other on the most dangerous looking hills and turns, with hundred foot drops on one side, but somehow they make it.
- People have some strange names here. I expected the stereotypical Juan, Maria, etc. Not necessarily. I have my meals with two families. One family, the father is Frederman, mother Lucia. Not too bad. Then, the first three kids are a textbook of Russian history: Vladimir, Estallyn, Llenyn, followed by Ronny and Patricia. The other family is composed of Luis and Esperanza, whose kids are Brian, Erica, Magdali? (Maggy). Last night, I dined with the latter family, and it was an amazing experience. Maybe because my Spanish has improved, but I could actually semi-converse with the kids. After dinner, I taught the kids how to make origami cranes and ninja stars, and Erica made me one of those friendship bracelets. How awesome.
- Working on the farm has been pretty cool. Most of the stuff we eat is straight off the farm. Yesterday, I helped cut some alfalfa for the cuyes (guinea pigs). By some, it was probably at least a football fields worth, so it was quite a lot. And they do this all by hand. It was fine for one day, and actually, I only helped in the morning, but man, I don´t know if I could do this every day of my life. The previous few days, I basically helped weed the vegetable gardens. I think yesterday had to be my most interesting overall moment on the hacienda, however. Not because of the cutting of wild alfalfa but my early morning experience. Stuart, the director, arranged for me to help milk the cows in the morning since I had never milked a cow before. I was quite pumped since it seems so romantic in that rustic, farmy way. Anyways, I start milking the cow, and all´s well. I hear Johnny (yes, he´s Ecuadorian) behind me, and of course, his squirts of milk sound bigger than mine, but it´s ok, size isn´t everything. Then, my cow procedes to pee, and by pee, it was more like a bucket of piss was coming out of its rearend. It splashed everywhere, and I had to pick up the bucket so none would get in the bucket. A few minutes later, I go over to work the other side with my back to a cow that is not being milked. I hear ¨splat splat splat¨ and I feel something hit the back of my head. Lo and behold, the cow had taken a humongous dump, and it had splattered against my backside. I needed to do laundry anyways, but that just made the laundry even more urgent. I did my laundry after lunch, and I have since discovered that doing laundry by hand is an art form. When I did my laundry by hand, things did not get clean - they just got less dirty. So, sorry Gene, the pants I borrowed from you are still kind of dirty mas o menos.
- Right now I´m in Otavalo, a place famous for its wool market every Saturday. I´m on my way to the community where I´ll stay these next three weeks called El Paraiso. It´s supposed to be gorgeous - in the Intag River valley, lush semi-tropical environment. There, I´m supposed to teach the kids, and I´m excited and anxious at the same time. I know my Spanish has a long way to go, and this will be a great opportunnity to learn it, but it kind of makes me anxious at the same time. I´ve always believed that I could do anything pretty well if I spent enough time on it, so this will be my chance to prove it. Vamos a mirar. I need to hop on the bus soon, which is supposed to be a 3 hour ride, so I´m going to leave it at that. Wish me luck and pray for me, if you do that kind of thing. Ciao!
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Estoy aqui
And I almost didn´t make it. These keyboards are throwing me off, but then again, maybe it´s the thin air. But look, aren´t the apostrophes kind of weird looking? Anyways, back to my original point. Sunday evening, I start to get my documents together for Ecuador only to discover that my green card is missing. This green card is what I need to get back into the country, so it´s kind of important. After searching everywhere there was to search, I start looking for other options. Plan B - order a new green card. Yeah, this would work great except it takes a few months - year to get. Plan C - Not go to Ecuador. Ummm, no thanks. Plan D - get a stamp in my passport confirming I indeed have a green card. Yay! So that´s what I did. However, I still had to order a new one for them to place a stamp in my passport, so that cost too much money and took early part of two mornings to go down to the immigration office downtown.
I left this afternoon after making a few final phone calls - sorry if I didn´t get a chance to reach you. Today I happened to have the fortune of going through the super security line, so it took a little bit longer. I´m not sure if it was completely random that I was selected for the super security line. I think it could´ve been that my name on my passport and the name on my ticket (Yosuke vs. Yoski) were spelled differently, so they automatically thought I was a risk (OMG, he doesn´t even know how to spell his own name!) Or maybe they saw that I was going to Ecuador and thought I might be carrying illegal substances. Who knows. Anyways, got through that, boarded the plane, watched the newest Pink Panther movie starring Steve Martin (not bad, but I wouldn´t pay to see it). The girl next to me noticed my Lonely Planet book, and we started talking a bit. And then, the guy on the other side of the aisle also noticed my Lonely Planet book, and we also chatted for a bit. And then, the girl started talking to a guy in the aisle in front of us, and we were all chatting for a while before the plane touched down. Just from that small subsample, I´d say the type of people who go to Ecuador are pretty friendly and cool (of course I´m not being biased here).
Ok, sorry that was boring. Now I´ll tell you about Ecuador. My first impression of Ecuador from the sky was that it was a pretty normal looking city. The lights were arranged in grids to follow the streets, and the buildings looked pretty decent. This was no metropolis, but neither is it a third world country full of tin shacks. Got through customs ok and I instantly got several offers for a taxi ride, but Lonely Planet recommended to go out to the street to hail a cab and haggle down the price, so I somehow managed to do that. They wanted $5, and I wanted $4, so I figured I´d compromise at $4.50. I was pleasantly surprised that my limited Spanish worked. Driving through the city, I was actually quite impressed by its cleanliness. The size of the streets and buildings actually reminded me a lot of Japan. And the buildings weren´t that nice, but they weren´t too shabby either - very reminiscent of some of the older sections of towns in Japan. The cab comes to a stop, and there´s another taxi parked right in front of us with a couple people stepping out, so I figure, hey, they must be staying where I´m staying. A couple of people come out to open the gate for them while I´m paying my cabbie and getting my stuff out of the car, so I tell them ¨Wait please!¨in español of course. Haha, this is sweet. This keyboard has the ¨ñ¨ Anyways, they close the gate, and I figure, oh well, I´m sure they´re right inside, but when I peer through the hole, there´s no one there. I´m thinking crap, how do I get in here? I see no bells, no nothing to call. Then I look around, and it doesn´t even really look like a hostel. Did my cabbie drop me off in the middle of nowhere as some cruel joke? Maybe I should´ve paid him the $5 he wanted. I walk down the street. Dark alley that way. Walk back towards the original gate. Hmm, this is kinda shady. Right next door, I spot someone mopping the floor inside a restaurant, so I figure I´d ask to see if they knew where my place was. Yep, the hostel is right up stairs. Whew. So that´s where I am now. Safe. Ok, well that´s all for now, and I´m trying to save money, so I´m going to get off the internet. Until next time, hasta luego!
I left this afternoon after making a few final phone calls - sorry if I didn´t get a chance to reach you. Today I happened to have the fortune of going through the super security line, so it took a little bit longer. I´m not sure if it was completely random that I was selected for the super security line. I think it could´ve been that my name on my passport and the name on my ticket (Yosuke vs. Yoski) were spelled differently, so they automatically thought I was a risk (OMG, he doesn´t even know how to spell his own name!) Or maybe they saw that I was going to Ecuador and thought I might be carrying illegal substances. Who knows. Anyways, got through that, boarded the plane, watched the newest Pink Panther movie starring Steve Martin (not bad, but I wouldn´t pay to see it). The girl next to me noticed my Lonely Planet book, and we started talking a bit. And then, the guy on the other side of the aisle also noticed my Lonely Planet book, and we also chatted for a bit. And then, the girl started talking to a guy in the aisle in front of us, and we were all chatting for a while before the plane touched down. Just from that small subsample, I´d say the type of people who go to Ecuador are pretty friendly and cool (of course I´m not being biased here).
Ok, sorry that was boring. Now I´ll tell you about Ecuador. My first impression of Ecuador from the sky was that it was a pretty normal looking city. The lights were arranged in grids to follow the streets, and the buildings looked pretty decent. This was no metropolis, but neither is it a third world country full of tin shacks. Got through customs ok and I instantly got several offers for a taxi ride, but Lonely Planet recommended to go out to the street to hail a cab and haggle down the price, so I somehow managed to do that. They wanted $5, and I wanted $4, so I figured I´d compromise at $4.50. I was pleasantly surprised that my limited Spanish worked. Driving through the city, I was actually quite impressed by its cleanliness. The size of the streets and buildings actually reminded me a lot of Japan. And the buildings weren´t that nice, but they weren´t too shabby either - very reminiscent of some of the older sections of towns in Japan. The cab comes to a stop, and there´s another taxi parked right in front of us with a couple people stepping out, so I figure, hey, they must be staying where I´m staying. A couple of people come out to open the gate for them while I´m paying my cabbie and getting my stuff out of the car, so I tell them ¨Wait please!¨in español of course. Haha, this is sweet. This keyboard has the ¨ñ¨ Anyways, they close the gate, and I figure, oh well, I´m sure they´re right inside, but when I peer through the hole, there´s no one there. I´m thinking crap, how do I get in here? I see no bells, no nothing to call. Then I look around, and it doesn´t even really look like a hostel. Did my cabbie drop me off in the middle of nowhere as some cruel joke? Maybe I should´ve paid him the $5 he wanted. I walk down the street. Dark alley that way. Walk back towards the original gate. Hmm, this is kinda shady. Right next door, I spot someone mopping the floor inside a restaurant, so I figure I´d ask to see if they knew where my place was. Yep, the hostel is right up stairs. Whew. So that´s where I am now. Safe. Ok, well that´s all for now, and I´m trying to save money, so I´m going to get off the internet. Until next time, hasta luego!
Saturday, June 03, 2006
One Week
As I approach the beginning of the end, as I change all my mailing address (both permanent and temporary), as I start a new life, as I start a new journey, I thought it would be rather appropriate to start a new blog. I'm not sure if this is the one I will use strictly for my traveling (which I hope to do more of in the years to come) or as a regular blogging outlet, but one thing is for sure. It's new.
There's always a sense of refreshment, of rebirth, in something new. A renaissance as the French like to call it, French accent included. I've always liked the blogger format. It's simple, clean, straightforward. I wish my room were more like this.... that is, if I had a room. But maybe with my new beginnings, I can transform my new room into the minimalist style of this blog.
One week from tomorrow I leave for Ecuador. It feels like so much time, but I'm sure it'll pass by quickly as I make the necessary arrangements. Get health insurance, make photocopies of all the important documents, see and talk to friends for one last time before I disappear for a month. There's things I need to buy: toilet paper, gatorade mix, maybe some iodine tablets and that underwear that you can wear forever without washing because bacteria doesn't grow on it. Well, perhaps the last one is unnecessary, and may even lead to the downfall of my dating life, but then again, there wasn't much there to begin with, so that's really no big loss. There's a chance I won't be able to get internet access more than once a week so this blog may be all for naught if that's the case. I figure my mailbox will fill up with so much mail that it will take me at least half an hour just to get through it. So if you happen to send me an email in the next month or so, forgive me if it takes a few weeks to respond.
I still have no place to live in Augusta, but it looks like I'll be living with Sunya, so I'm basically banking on her to take care of everything. Sunya's mom is the lady who taught tennis to first my mom and then me. Peachtree City is, or was, a small community, and the tennis community was also pretty small, so our families have known each other and stayed in touch for a pretty long time. Apparently, our moms were talking a few weeks ago and discovered that we were both going to MCG, so figured we should live together. Not a bad deal since I know Sunya and her mom, and I know she's responsible. It's funny how things just sort of fall in place.
Why Granola? Well, it had to be something food related. You know me. It also fits my personality. Sometimes, I can be kinda nutty, other times, I can be plain boring like rolled oats, and on the rare occasion, I can be sweet, like raisins or (on) dates. I feel like my posts will also be an assortment of topics and styles, ranging from bullet point format to long dissertations on my current frustrations. Moments of sheer joy and contentment tempered by disillusion and questioning of the world around me and myself. And it's just simple to remember. If I had something really witty like Food for Thought or The Gastronomist's Guide to the Galaxy it would have been harder to remember, and maybe only half the people reading this would remember the name of the site. Well, since I'm the only person reading this anyways, and there couldn't be half of me, I guess everyone, i.e. me, could remember it pretty easily. But the biggest reason I chose Granola as the name for this site? It was still available.
There's always a sense of refreshment, of rebirth, in something new. A renaissance as the French like to call it, French accent included. I've always liked the blogger format. It's simple, clean, straightforward. I wish my room were more like this.... that is, if I had a room. But maybe with my new beginnings, I can transform my new room into the minimalist style of this blog.
One week from tomorrow I leave for Ecuador. It feels like so much time, but I'm sure it'll pass by quickly as I make the necessary arrangements. Get health insurance, make photocopies of all the important documents, see and talk to friends for one last time before I disappear for a month. There's things I need to buy: toilet paper, gatorade mix, maybe some iodine tablets and that underwear that you can wear forever without washing because bacteria doesn't grow on it. Well, perhaps the last one is unnecessary, and may even lead to the downfall of my dating life, but then again, there wasn't much there to begin with, so that's really no big loss. There's a chance I won't be able to get internet access more than once a week so this blog may be all for naught if that's the case. I figure my mailbox will fill up with so much mail that it will take me at least half an hour just to get through it. So if you happen to send me an email in the next month or so, forgive me if it takes a few weeks to respond.
I still have no place to live in Augusta, but it looks like I'll be living with Sunya, so I'm basically banking on her to take care of everything. Sunya's mom is the lady who taught tennis to first my mom and then me. Peachtree City is, or was, a small community, and the tennis community was also pretty small, so our families have known each other and stayed in touch for a pretty long time. Apparently, our moms were talking a few weeks ago and discovered that we were both going to MCG, so figured we should live together. Not a bad deal since I know Sunya and her mom, and I know she's responsible. It's funny how things just sort of fall in place.
Why Granola? Well, it had to be something food related. You know me. It also fits my personality. Sometimes, I can be kinda nutty, other times, I can be plain boring like rolled oats, and on the rare occasion, I can be sweet, like raisins or (on) dates. I feel like my posts will also be an assortment of topics and styles, ranging from bullet point format to long dissertations on my current frustrations. Moments of sheer joy and contentment tempered by disillusion and questioning of the world around me and myself. And it's just simple to remember. If I had something really witty like Food for Thought or The Gastronomist's Guide to the Galaxy it would have been harder to remember, and maybe only half the people reading this would remember the name of the site. Well, since I'm the only person reading this anyways, and there couldn't be half of me, I guess everyone, i.e. me, could remember it pretty easily. But the biggest reason I chose Granola as the name for this site? It was still available.
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