Travels with Tavel

It’s Friday, which means I’ve been in Quito just about 3.5 days so far, and the city still feels very much like a giant nut I have yet to crack. But time does the crackin’, not me.

I’m a little shaken up by the fact that, last night, two guys were robbed directly outside my apartment… at gunpoint… by three Ecuadorians. They were getting out of their car and the three guys literally came up to them, pointed a gun at their head, and said give me your keys. They handed them over. This happened probably five minutes (couldn’t have been more than seven minutes) after my roommate Kari and I left our apartment (which directly faces the apartment in front of which these guys parked) to walk one block north, where a bunch of Kari’s fellow teacher friends were having a dinner party (mmm, pulled pork).

Scene of the crime. My street, Quito.

I know it’s not safe here. Reminders are constant, and my guard has been constantly up. But I figure all you can do is be street smart. It’s hard for me to grasp the very firm rule both guidebooks and people on the ground seem to swear by: do NOT walk ANYWHERE – not even one block – at night. Meaning, if the sun is even partially down, take a taxi, even if you’re going around the corner.

Rules like this make me angry and frustrated. I’m an independent lady and I hate that my bubble of safety will be penetrated daily by darkness. I don’t want to live like that! But, for a year or two, I can and I will. Safety is the most important thing in the world when you’re living abroad. Whether it’s health safety or safety from violence, I will do what I can to protect myself. I knew this before coming to Quito, but things become a lot more real when you know someone had a gun pointed at them outside your brand new home. Unfortunately, I will have to worry about thieves and petty crime daily, but I’m going to do my best not to let it shake me, and not to let it stop me from enjoying this city (which I’m waiting to like more… it’s a bit dingy still, although I have yet to visit the old beautiful part). Everyone puts their money in their shoe, just to walk home from work. Nobody carries credit cards or debit cards. Even bags of any shape and size are discouraged (no, I will not call it… a… purse… BLECH! Horrible word!)

But let’s move onto some happier stuff, like my new job!

I’m excited about it. For example, the first day, we celebrated two birthdays at lunch. Not only was there cake, but there was BEER. Niiiiice.

Also, my coworkers are great. Like, really great. I’m excited about every one of them. Half the office is Ecuadorian, and half the office is British/American/Canadian. It became clear very quickly that the office works hard together… AND plays hard together. That’s my kind of office.

For example, my second day at work, I went to dinner with my coworkers followed by Pub Quiz Night, which is run by… my boss. Hehe. Basically, you get in teams of five, and after a discussion that morning about our least favorite words, we came up with the team name “Moist and Crusty.” Yes, I’ve been laughing a lot already. I left halfway through the quiz (was still exhausted, but finally slept past 530am today — whoohoo!) but… we won. Good start.

It’s about a 35 minute walk for me to get to work, and as long as I feel safe enough, I plan to walk it every morning. The walk begins by going down my four flights of stairs, then down a very big hill to an avenue called 6 de Diciembre, along which the ecovia (or tram) runs, for $0.25 a pop. The walk isn’t pretty if I’m looking down — dirtied cement buildings, car exhaust, and unattractive little tiendas line the avenue. I’ve had loads of crap blown into my eyes each morning (would it be inappropriate to walk to work wearing goggles?). But then, if I look up to my right, there they are: the mountains which, this morning, are made invisible by clouds.

View from my bedroom this morning. Quito, Ecuador.

All in all, things are off to a really good start, but not without a couple hiccups. I’m loving my coworkers, looking forward to my job (which will keep me very busy, I have the feeling) and hoping to give Quito a good crackin’ this weekend, since my exciting plan to head to a beach called Canoa with my coworkers foiled when Libby (the other new girl) and I tried to buy bus tickets and found that they were all sold out. Siiiigh. Asi es la vida.

One more thing about my apartment, that I’m trying to get used to…

I have five keys. That’s how I get in. First, I must get up the big hill to my red door. The red door is metal and that’s the most important one because that’s the door that separates me from feeling vulnerable between the taxi and a locked door behind me. Then, I go up some steps, and there is a second door — a glass door. Then I go up three more flights of stairs, and I have a metal gate in front of my door. I open that. Then there is a dead bolt lock and a door handle lock. They all turn in different directions, some require the key to be jagged side up, some jagged side down. It’s a bit confusing, and I can only imagine how annoying it will be when I’m slightly tipsy.

I had to put all the keys in order on my keychain because I can’t tell the difference between them, and I still haven’t memorized which ones turn which direction, etc. So, basically, every time I get home, it’s like this brain puzzle just to get back into my apartment, and it still takes me a few minutes.

I guess it’s just another one of those things that I know will take time. Then some day, when I least expect it, I’ll realize I have it figured out, and it will be second nature, and I’ll have no trouble opening the doors to my new little life in Quito while letting old ones shut behind me.

I’ve got the keys. Now I’ve just got to figure out how to use them.

This song is a perfect fit to my mood right now: The Re-Arranger, Mates of State (ignore the poor quality video, listen to the song).

I am here, in my new apartment (at least for now), over 9,000 feet above where most of you are, in Quito, Ecuador.

My fingers are tingling (a strange side effect from the altitude medicine I was instructed to take) and simply moving from one room to another gets my heart racing, but I’m doin’ ok. I feel like I’m in a constant yoga class, focusing on my breathing, taking in the scenery (hello MOUNTAINS!), trying to stay hydrated and relaxed… Succeeding, for the most part. I admit, I feel a little like a fish out of water here. I’m not really sure I am here yet, actually. The city looks from the sky exactly how I envisioned it, but on the ground… it’s different. Who cares? What’s on the ground is all that matters now!

View from my living room. Quito, Ecuador.

I want to tell you all about Ecuador and life here, but barely anything has happened yet. Instead, let me tell you a little story about LIFE.

The past week, in between a month in Argentina and moving to Ecuador, was absolutely exhausting. I felt sort of like time had committed a hit and run on me, and I was left to deal with way too much to do in too little time.

I decided to take the first few days off after my 11-hr overnight flight from Buenos Aires — I knew I’d never make it if I didn’t at least try to rest for five minutes. But then, around Wednesday evening, it was like a tornado hit; my body was sucked up into this whirlwind of change, tossed around and thrown in different directions. I had to say goodbyes, prepare for hellos, had to move out, had to move in, had to mentally arrive in NYC and mentally prepare to leave, had to BE in NYC but try to be just enough in Ecuador so that I could pack. I felt the sickest I’ve felt in a while — got hit by some nasty virus in Argentina or on one of the six 7 to 11 hr plane rides I’ve been on in the past month and a half (ugh — can I not do another one of those for a while? K, thanks) — and of course, had an out-of-control to-do list to tackle. All I wanted to do was nap, go to coffee with friends, go to spinning classes or for bike rides along the Hudson in Riverside Park, stand still… But I had to go, go, go, go, GO!

Packing was ROUGH! It’s horrifying how much stuff you can accumulate in five years. And, while I’m going to be here for a year or two, I could only take two suitcases. The rest of the stuff has to just be… somewhere… else. Packing up an entire apartment and then not having anywhere to put it is a bit of a nightmare. Throw simultaneous packing up for moving to another country into the mix, and you’ve got yourself a very busy three days.

Here’s a little snapshot of how the past few days went for me:

Saturday, my mom and brothers attempted to load my full size mattress and box spring into our minivan. We had (vague) measurements and knew it would fit (ok, more like really HOPED it would fit), but when it came time to getting the darn bed into our van, things weren’t as nicely thought out as we hoped. Basically, we spent about 15-minutes ramming our bodies into a large mattress on 103rd Street between Broadway and Amsterdam. My brothers were sure it wouldn’t fit. My mom started telling me all the things I should have done days before this moment. I was exhausted, I felt like crap, but I KNEW that thing could fit… I could make it fit. I was determined. Everyone else had given up, but I kept thrusting my body into it, trying different angles, pushing down corners with all my might… totally exhausting myself. Finally, a nice handsome gentleman (who happened to be watching the whole time — awesome. I am cool) said “Mind if I give it a try?” I said, “Be my guest!” And less than ten shoves later, with the car bouncing around like it was on hydraulics, we had a van full of mattress. There was clapping, laughing, and smiles from strangers on the street, and it was done.

Part two of this process was less sexy. It basically consisted of me and my mom driving the 1:45 minutes upstate knowing that we would have to remove the mattress and box spring ourselves. Well, more like I knew I would have to. My mom is 4’11” and no matter how much leopard print she wears, she’s no match for a full size mattress jam-packed into a tiny car… but what a trooper she was for helping me out.

My kitchen, with view. Quito, Ecuador.

We arrived, and wasted no time. I got in that van and I started pushing with all my strength. Then, I got out the van and started pulling with all my strength. My mom shoved, I pulled, I pressed corners down, tried to fold the mattress in unlikely ways, and AHHHH, it budged! About 2 minutes of pushing and pulling later, and we had ourselves a mattress. The box spring had a smoother exit, thankfully.

After a couple hours of wrapping the mattress and box spring, then dragging them down the stairs to our basement, we were DONE. And TIRED. I had a to-do list I couldn’t even keep track of, an apartment full of furniture still, one more day before I had to be on a plane to Ecuador, and two hours before I could even start doing anything else. Oy with a capital OY.

Even though I was tired as heck, I knew I had to keep packing when I got home. After the drive back to the city, I stayed up until around 9pm packing (I really had no choice), ordered in Chinese, and had a few moments when I almost just stopped everything to just cry. I was completely overwhelmed, for the first time, with everything. That lasted about thirty minutes until I decided it was time to get to my parents’ place where there was a bed for me to rest before another day of packing.

Packing sucks. Really. The emotions, the dust, the disorganization, the superfluous STUFF overload… It just makes me want to curl up in a little ball and eat chocolate. I love having an adventurous life and that everything is still a mystery, but the idea of settling somewhere with someone in some home all sounds so nice when you’re alone in an apartment trying to pack up your un-sturdy life…

I got home, was SO exhausted I barely slept (anyone? anyone? I know this happens to others too…). I woke up Sunday, the day before the big move, and decided I was going to be in a great mood, that I was going to get everything done (somehow), and that the final day of packing and moving would be blissfully successful and efficient.

Then, I tried to turn on my pretty, new “passion purple” Dell Insprion 1440 laptop. Instead of turning on, it made a whimpering fan sound for exactly three seconds, and went off again. Um, nope. That didn’t just happen. I tried again. Same thing. Nope… I refuse. This is a brand new laptop, it’s my only laptop, and I leave for Ecuador in less than 24 hrs, no no no. My purple passion laptop was going to turn on. It had to. I don’t have the time, I don’t have the energy, I don’t have the emotional willpower to deal with this right now… It will turn on, and it will be OK!!

It didn’t. It was time to tap into the willpower reserves. Priority list: Call Dell. They were very friendly when they told me it sounded like my motherboard crashed and I needed a replacement, which they could easily take care of in 1 to 2 business days. I told them I was moving to Ecuador at 3am the next morning… I needed it now. They were still friendly when they told me that that was impossible. I already knew it was, but I hoped… I hoped! I had to make some decisions, and fast. My friends Lisa and Tom were meeting me at my old apartment in an hour to help me move all my stuff. I hadn’t even started actually packing for Ecuador. My to-do list was laughing at me, and now I needed a new laptop.

I quickly updated my Facebook status (not sure why, but that seemed like an efficient use of my time in the moment). Now… Hold. It. Together. Shoot. Meltdown? No! YES. NO. Keep it together, Tavel! Make a plan. I secretly wanted a MacBook anyway… I will make magic happen today. I will go to the Mac store and buy a new laptop. One thing at a time. Holy crap, I move to Ecuador tomorrow. I’m TIRED.

Apartment view. Quito, Ecuador.

Sure enough, the move went well. Unfortunately, my friends who were there to help were 45 minutes late due to the AIDS Walk (not their fault) but I ended up moving just about everything alone. My poor mom, who has been nothing but patient and generous with her time, had to stay with the van as I made trip after trip from my apartment to the car, with no help. After a recent heartbreak, I was trying to feel empowered by my independence, but really I was just exhausted from it. I wanted a hug.

When Lisa and Tom arrived, we got the big stuff done in no time. After I went home to unload with just my mom, I met back up with them for one final brunch at my favorite Cuban joint, Cafe Con Leche, where we got to sit in the shade on a GORGEOUS day, sipping coconut water out of a coconut with a little purple umbrella and eating my favorite huevos rancheros. OK, game on, I could do this — the worst was over.

After brunch, I booked it to the Mac store. A nice Mac man named Brando spent about 45 minutes with me, evaluating my options, helping me decide if I was ready for this big change (why did getting a Mac feeling more intimidating than moving to Quito?). Ironically, I thought it wasn’t wisest to switch to a Mac when I left the country because I’m not very Mac savvy… But when EVERYTHING else was changing around me, I suddenly realized it was actually the perfect time to make the change. Lola the Laptop was on her last breaths. My passion purple Dell may have been pretty, but she wasn’t smart. And here I was, looking at the computer I really secretly wanted, and it all seemed to make sense: of course! This happened for a reason! It was time for me to become a Mac girl!

Luckily, I had backed up my entire computer on an external hard drive. Everything was going to be ok (right?).

My mom made me a delicious dinner, and my dad and little brother came home with three giant cupcakes. Man, I love a cupcake. My mom also picked up treats from Zabar’s, so at that point, I just decided to say FUCK everything… Screw my to-do list: I’m eating some effing cupcakes and I’m hanging out with my family. That’s all that matters to me right now anyway.

It was a wonderful night with my family and my new computer. I have been surprisingly unfazed by this move, but when I hugged my parents and my brothers goodnight at around 11pm (sisters weren’t there, and I finally finished packing then), I got choked up. I don’t know if it was the exhaustion, or realizing that my 15 year old brother would be inches taller and possibly a different person when I got back, but it all just hit me: I wasn’t going to seem them for a while, and I really love them.

Well, I crawled into bed. My whole body aching with exhaustion. I set that alarm (ok three alarms) for 2:45am and tried not to think. I woke up at 2am, as I expected I would (I always wake myself up super early when I’m worried about sleeping through an alarm — which, I should add, has never happened in my life). I was ready, but I had one more obstacle ahead of me…

My dad had arranged for a car service to pick me up at 3:30am, a nice perk to his job. They usually call 15 minutes before they arrive to let you know the car number. At 3:30, I began to wonder… So, at 3:35am, I called the company to check if the car was en route. I had a 6am flight from JFK — I could waste some time, but not a lot, and this wasn’t a simple trip — I had two big bags to manage.

Of course, they put me on hold for seven minutes. By the time they got back to me they said they would have to call somewhere else to find out the status of the car. I said fine (ya jerks!), and decided — at 350am — it was time for plan B: TAXI.

I walked to West End Avenue and waited… and waited… for a taxi (could have used CabSense!) Finally, I found one. I made it to the airport, made it on my plane to Costa Rica and then to Ecuador. They were two of the most turbulent rides of my life, but they seemed to go perfectly with the previous few days.

All that matters now is that SOMEHOW, thanks to the help of so many people, I did it, I made it, and I’m here. I’m in QUITO!! I’m still trying to wrap my head around the mountains outside my window. I admit that I don’t feel at home here at all (yet). It’s going to take getting used to, but I’m glad I’m here. I’m ready to get used to it.

I know being here has so much to offer. The apartment is great, my roommate is great (she made me chamomile tea with honey last night – yes!), and even though I almost got stuck in the shower this morning (don’t ask… just enjoy that visualization — can you imagine how embarrassing that would be?! HA), I’m trying to look around and say “HOME.” But it’s still just QUITO — that spot on a map that I looked at long and hard and wondered what it’d be like when I got here. It’s still not real. Still bizarre, and foreign, and confusing. But I’ve got to take it one day at a time.

I realize that I’m impatient when it comes to feeling at home. Traveling and visiting places, is one thing, but when I move somewhere new to live, I want to know where everything I might need could be. I want to know where to go if I’m craving a donut (fyi, that never happens so I don’t know where that just came from), where to sign up for a spinning class once I can breath better, where to get my groceries, where I’m going to go grab drinks with the friends I eventually hope to have, and where I will grab a coffee on my way to work if I’m in the mood.

No matter how much I travel, I’m a creature of comfort at heart. Even though everything is strange and unclear right now, I look forward to turning this place 9,400 feet above everything I know into my place in the clouds. I know it will take time, but now the clock has started.

The adventure has officially begun.

Alright people. A lot of you have been asking me what is going to happen with T w/ T when I go to Ecuador, so I will take a moment in my crazy schedule to address this.

Overused wall. San Telmo, Buenos Aires.

First of all, let me just say that I have been so strangely calm about this big move… I mean, I haven’t even touched a suitcase, nor have I made any call to hire movers. I have not figured out what I am doing with all of my furniture, nor whether or not I will keep  all of it. I have not decided which bags I’m going to use to pack and I have not figured out when I’m going to make all this magic happen.

What I HAVE done is: hang out with a lot of friends. Talked about the fact that I’m moving to Ecuador (craaaazy!). Danced around to fun music in my room, savoring the fact that I’m not stressed at all (yet?). I’ve gone for a bike ride or to a spinning class every day since I got back from Argentina. I’ve visited my old coworkers to say hi and goodbye, and I’ve watched a little Hulu. Ooh! And I’ve changed my address at the post office! Good for me, right? Tomorrow, I’m going to do laundry!

I’m not a high-stress person (I get especially calm in high-stress situations actually. It’s weird), and I am (usually) not a procrastinator. It’s not in my make-up. In fact, every essay I wrote in college, it was my “thing” to write the first sentence or paragraph the very day I had the essay assigned, even if it was due weeks later. I always feel much better when something has at least been started. And, I have never finished an essay with less than an hour or two before it’s due. Nor have I ever, in my life, stayed up past 1am to do homework or study. Just some random Tavel facts for you to digest.

Three shirtless men, laughing in a rose garden. El Rosedal, Parque 3 de Febrero, Buenos Aires.

This move is so big, with SO many details and strings attached each logistical decision, that I’ve just decided to go with the philosophy that it will get done. How? Eh, I am not sure. Who’s in charge? Oh right, me. (Shit.) But uh… I don’t know. It’s gotta get done somehow, right? I mean, I’m leaving on Monday and that’s that! It’s GOING to get done! (Magic, please?)

Eek. Confession: Today I woke up and realized that I might actually have to play a part in the whole it’s-gonna-get-done thing. I’m not really sure where to start. OK, perhaps I’m starting to get a littttttle nervous. Maybe I’ll schedule a massage? Haha. True story. I’m allowed one massage a year and, by golly [oh yes, that phrase just happened], I scheduled that noise for TODAY! WHOOHOO! Can I afford it? Nope — neither financially nor time-wise. But damn it, it’s happening at 4:15, and no to-do list is going to stop me. Gotta take care of yourself, right? Ommmm.

OK, so maybe I’ll figure out all the logistics of moving tomorrow… 🙂

Two paths in the woods. Dolores, Argentina.

As for the blog…

Look: Right now, I know very little about life beyond Monday (let us not forget I’m moving to a city in a country I’ve never even visited and I don’t TECHNICALLY have any friends yet — although I am pumped to meet everyone I have been put in touch with, including my bosses and future coworkers!). But what I can ASSURE you is that, I might be going to Ecuador, but T w/ T is not going ANYWHERE. Meaning, you can count on this blog continuing — no doubt about it.

My original plan was to make this an outlet for wanderlusters and travel daydreamers around the world. I hope it will still be just that. But, I also think it might become a combination of general travel excitement, and my own adventures in Ecuador (and beyond). I can see it becoming somewhat of a live memoirs thing, where I recount the adventures and quirks of travel and living abroad as I experience them (random snapshots, bizarre anecdotes, funny interactions, the wonders of travel) and probably draw my small experience into the light of the “big picture” so that everyone can relate. But don’t think I want this to be all about me! I still want your participation, your input, your reactions to everything. There will still be Mystery Snapshots, and I will still be seeking contributors (anyone? ANYONE?!). However, I also want to chronicle this experience as I go. Life is about to get wacky. How can I not write about it?!

In a nutshell, I’m going to figure out the future of T w/ T as I go. You’re all invited to tell me what you want out of it. Should I continue with the Mystery Snapshots? Do you have any other suggestions/ideas? Would anyone like to contribute some travel story, photo, or advice/thoughts? Bring on the feedback!

I also want to pause to acknowledge something. In all honesty, this blog was started the week I got my heart ripped to shreds and stomped on (for the second time, by the same person- shame on him or shame on me?). It had nothing to do with that situation, but the heartbreak did trigger the biggest surge of inspiration and certainty in my passion that I have ever had. I got over it. Maybe, in some twisted way, I’m grateful for it. Now, it has led me here. I’m at peace with so many things in my life, and so proud of where I am at. Whatever happens in Ecuador, I’ve done nothing but follow my heart and follow my dreams this past 10 months that the blog has existed (over 7,100 hits — YAY!). I have learned SO much about LIFE, what I am looking for, where I’ve been, and who I am. And ya know what? I’m taking all this learning and these experiences with me to Ecuador. Luckily, they’re already packed.

Roses. El Rosedal, Buenos Aires.

On Sunday, aboard a beautiful horse aptly named Belleza, with black bulls looking on and the music of large birds cawing overhead, I found myself in a rare but wonderful place: completely surrounded by sky, and the occasional pile of bull poop.

Aboard Belleza. Estancia Dos Talas, Buenos Aires.

I felt so free. Then I woke up today, a few days later, feeling suddenly nostalgic. I’ve been coasting this past month in Argentina, with Shannon at my side. Life has been completely stress-free, tranquilo, fun, light, distant (in a good way)…

But Shannon left this morning, and now I am suddenly more aware of my thoughts. After over three weeks of spending almost every moment together, I had to say goodbye to her! Withdrawal might be kicking in. Saying goodbye to friends is like having a happy breakup: it’s wonderful that you got to have them in your life, but then it kills you a little when you have to let them go. At least for me. Letting go… It’s as hard as it can be wonderful.

Fence. Estancia, Argentina.

I also had to say goodbye to a couple friends (shout out to my favorite Puerta Roja bartender!), which I hate to do. This is the downside of travel: you meet people, so many wonderful people, and then… you leave. Friendships quickly form, then change shape, then pass, and sometimes dissipate, like clouds.  Some last. Sometimes you get to return to the quickly-formed friendships, jokes, and memories, but not until months or years later. Sometimes you just return on your own, in your own head. Sometimes you never go back.

Caballo and Path. Estancia, Argentina.

Everything was dandy until I woke up and realized, for the first time in weeks, I am alone. After such a FUN and HILARIOUS night out yesterday (laughing/smiling so hard my face still hurts… Ahhh, yes), it hit me today:  I have to say goodbye. Lots of goodbyes. I HATE goodbyes. Like, HATE them. Sure, they barely mean anything these days but, holy crap… Can I move to Ecuador without saying ANY goodbyes? I’m going to try.

Hmm. Silence brings its own sort of noise. Now back to sky and horses…

Gaucho in the sunset. Dolores, Argentina.

Admittedly, I sometimes forget how powerful it can be to have so much SPACE surrounding me. Sitting there on my horse with sky all around on Sunday made me almost forget places like NYC exist.  Shannon and I both craved a day in the country, so we scheduled a day trip at an estancia (a cattle farm/estate) 3hrs outside the city, in Dolores, Argentina. We both needed a little nature in our lives — some stillness, some crunchy nature sounds — and I couldn’t possibly spend 3.5 weeks in Argentina without going horseback riding.

Trees. Estancia Dos Talas. Argentina.

While at the estancia, we had time to wander beneath the archways of many trees and around cattle fields, passing by horses, enjoying the feeling of gravel and dirt under our sneakers… The ground crunched and bugs hissed around us. The sounds of the country were rejuvenating. We got to enjoy the delicious flavors of an asado, and cheeky laughter-filled conversations with a friendly group of Argentines while a cow lingered nearby. It was all incredibly lovely (that’s the right word), and super refreshing after days and days of city slumming, restaurants, loud buses and cement.  In order to truly be able to appreciate a city, I am a big believer in getting OUT of the city as much as possible. So, as much as I love cities, let me make it clear that I also LOVE nature. Need it.

I had a moment while riding my horse, Belleza. It was so quiet. All I could hear was the horse breathing and the random not white noise, maybe green noise, of the fields. Suddenly, I realized how much space was around me. I was overwhelmed by silence and sky, and it did wonders for my city girl soul.

Horseback view. Estancia, Argentina.

We rode out into the cattle fields with black bulls and brown cows grazing nearby. Draped all around us was sky. I looked behind me, to both sides of me, up and out…  It was everywhere. Overwhelming amounts of uninterrupted sky pouring over us, making me feel small in a big world. All that mattered at that moment was right there, in each step through the tall grass.

Crumbling wall. Estancia. Dolores, Argentina.

I have two days left in Buenos Aires. For the most part, I’ll be alone. I have a lot of writing to do and a lot of cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, etc. to take care of before I leave the apartment ready for the next person’s Argentinean adventure. But all I can say is that this trip has been absolutely wonderful for me. It breathed new air into my soul, new energy, new excitement about life and what I’m about to take on, and it couldn’t have been a better way to transition from one phase of my life to the next.

Field. Cattle. Dolores, Argentina.

As I rode off into the field of the estancia, in my happy place (on horseback under unending sky), I realized that, while I was completely surrounded by piles of bullshit (hehe), I was also as far away as I could possibly be from most bullshit. It felt like a little piece of the world had been unzipped and let out for me to see, to breath in, and I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.

Although the constant traveling and adventuring has caught up to me (last week, I just felt exhausted and sickish), and I have plenty more ahead (uh, 7 days in NYC to unpack from Argentina, pack up my years of NYC-living, move out of my apartment, and pack for over a year in a country I’ve never even visited… yep), I can’t help but feel wonderful. I know that, right now, I’m not thinking about how I want to live my life, planning how I can maybe do the things I want to do, thinking about it all, daydreaming… I’m DOING it, right here, right now, in this slight exhaustion that I feel, in this silence, under that big sky, on that horse in the countryside, in this kitchen in Buenos Aires on a cloudy morning…

Roses in different phases. El Rosedal. Palermo, Buenos Aires.

I’m living the life I want to live, and that’s all I can try to do. No matter where I’m located, it’s one of the best feelings in the world. Feel free to meet me there… 🙂

Listening to this right now, and it’s hitting the spot: Sade, Babyfather.

Rose in the sun. Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Alright, alright. I’ve left you all hanging long enough…

Last week’s Mystery Snapshot comes from El Caminito, an extremely touristy couple blocks in the famously colorful La Boca neighborhood of Buenos Aires. Most people are either completely turned off from the “performance” that has become La Boca, or they love it. While, yes, it’s disgustingly touristy, I try very hard to look beyond the Argentina-times-a-hundred show they put on, and into the slightly less obvious moments that sprout from the details within the loud (in appearance and sound) neighborhood.

Old man in La Boca, edge of touristy part.

Home to the Boca Juniors soccer stadium, the neighborhood sits on a very polluted portion of the Riachuelo River, where rusting ships and old warehouses decompose. At the end of the 19th century, thousands of European immigrants settled into this neighborhood. With little to their name, people built homes from the metal scraps of boats, and used leftover paint from the shipyards to color their scrappy metal homes. Never having enough paint to color the entire wall, the neighborhood became a mash-up of brightly colored homes made from cheap and rusting materials. Now, ironic as always, tourists eat it all up with a spoon.

Colorful wall made from metal scraps, La Boca.

The colorful homes aren’t the only trademark of this neighborhood. Tango — the national dance of Buenos Aires, which originated in brothels much like those once prevalent in La Boca — can be found everywhere you turn, in every form. People singing tango, playing tango, dancing tango, watching tango… It’s in-your-face, almost too much to enjoy it for what it is. It’s like you want a mouthful so you can taste it, savor it, but they shove a bit too much down your throat and you almost gag.

Tango in La Boca.

That said, if you can tune out the Disneyworld-esque shenanigans, you can see some real dancing, hear some beautiful music, and enjoy a neighborhood that is really unique, and quite poor, under the caked-on makeup of tourism. Beyond the very small section of La Boca dedicated to tourists, there is still a very real, working class neighborhood. And behind the colorful doors and shutters, real Argentines are watching TV, cheering on the Boca Juniors as if their lives depended on it.

The real La Boca.

The actual dance shown in last week’s photo is probably La Chacarera, an Argentinean folk dance that involves dancing on a wooden board with a lot of stomping and twirling. My Argentine friend Mali (Mariano M., who I met while I studying abroad in Barcelona), sent me this YouTube video in case you want to see the dance in action. I also found this video (pretty bad but it’ll give you the idea), which was actually taken in La Boca by some tourist. The dance I captured might  have some of influence from the Argentine dance, called the zamba (not the Brazilian samba), judging by the flying scarves. I’m no expert, but there you have it.

In other news, Shannon and I are having a lot of fun. I’m trying to balance my writing assignment with giving Shannon a well-rounded first-experience in Argentina, and then I have new friends and lots of family to see at all times. It’s amazing how busy we’ve been, and how much work there is to do! But yesterday, even though I was working on a Sunday (well, technically I am working every day, but yesterday’s assignment involved going to an awesome archaeology museum and a fancy polo store in San Telmo), Shannon and I found time to stop, smell the chorizo, and sip a delightful cafe con leche at a lovely poet’s cafe in San Telmo.

Sunday afternoon at a cafe in San Telmo.

It’s hard to believe we’ve only got about ten days left for our adventures in Buenos Aires. There is SO much I still want to do! I’d say this is the calm before the storm, but I think I’ve sort of been in the middle of the storm for almost a month now. Both of us are in the midst of huge changes, about to begin big new chapters in our lives that will lead us… who knows where? But Argentina is doing us both a lot of good. Seeds of change have been planted in both our lives; it’s almost time to watch how things grow… 🙂

A tree grows in San Telmo.

Today, I am off to a slightly slower start than normal after an unexpectedly full night. It began at a delicious parrilla in Palermo with new friends Courtney N. and Mabel. We savored the sabores of thyme-covered lomo de bife and french fries with about 8 different sauces to choose from, and washed down the succulent red meat with a couple healthy glasses of velvet-red malbec.

Dinner was followed by a quick jarra de Quilmes at a nearby bar, then a short taxi ride to a drumming club in Abasto where we met up with my cousin Hernan (a drummer/musician himself), and his friends. The next few hours became a happy blur of smoke, saxophones, trumpets, trombones, clarinets, a few unidentifiable instruments, drums, smiles, Spanish, and crazy haircuts (Argentines often rock haircuts such as: the mullet, the rat-tail, the dread-locks, the buzz-cut-with-pony-tail, the long-hair-with-random-chunk-shaved-off, or the curly of-European-descent ‘fro. My personal favorite is the one that mixes three or more of these styles together on one head — probably the most common!).

It was one of those nights that only comes when you travel. We didn’t even plan to go out, and a couple text messages later, we were surrounded by a happy, bopping crowd of Argentines loving every second of the funky band, which was followed by a very intense Senegalese drummer and his  drumming troupe. It was fascinating to watch him control the stage, with his long arms outstretched to the audience like he was psyching us up for battle, an intense look in his eyes, his short dreads spread out from his face like a deep, dark lion king…

It’s hard to describe what it’s like to listen to good drumming. It’s a feeling. For some reason, I LOVE IT. More than you’d assume. I feel so connected to drumming, like it’s creeping through the floor into my body when someone plays. All you can do is just let it move you; let it bounce around in your hips, try and catch it with your feet, let it thump around you, and enjoy. So that’s what we did, until the wee hours of last night.

Unfortunately, I have no photographs to capture the experience. But I do have this shot from a couple days ago…  Here, I offer you a new Mystery Snapshot. (How dare I write an entire post last time with NO photograph?!)

I took this Mystery Snapshot the other day. Tell me which Buenos Aires neighborhood this might be, what you know about it, and whatever you can tell me about what’s going on in the photo…

Mystery Dance

I love this shot 🙂 Am I allowed to say that?

Ahhh, a good night’s rest, a strong cup of coffee, Lola the Laptop at my fingertips, birds singing above me and the sound of traffic seven stories below me. It’s been almost a week since I arrived in Buenos Aires, and I’m feeling very  much at home. Technically, I am.

I arrived in fog so thick I couldn’t see the tip of the wing. Our plane came in for a landing and rain drops splattered against the windows. For someone expecting “partly cloudy skies” I was a tad disappointed, but not too bothered. The last time I landed in fog that thick was when I arrived at Tokyo’s Narita airport. I just remember seeing nothing but white, sometimes layers of white, and I was waiting for the plane to descend from the clouds when suddenly we felt a thud and were on the ground. I could have sworn we were about thousand feet in the air, which was a bit disconcerting. Maybe it was that half-Ambien I took (mentioned in a previous entry).

Unfortunately, it rained almost non-stop for the first 2.5 days in BA and was in the 50’s, much cooler than I expected. But my friend Shannon (who arrived at 5am the following morning) and I decided we would hit the ground running. We bought cheap umbrellas, swung by the bakery downstairs for a couple medialunas (I believe one should always have a bakery downstairs), buttoned up, and set out to tackle the first neighborhood of my VIVA Guides assignment: San Telmo.

I had it all mapped out: the order in which we’d hit three museums, a couple streets I remember as being “interesting” enough to let my restaurant radar do the picking, and I decided that I would use my psychic abilities to find the statue of a littler girl named Mafalda that I had to write 300 words about.

It was chilly. Our umbrellas were like bad boyfriends, barely protecting us from the elements and not even caring, but we managed. The streets were a little dead. It felt like most Argentines woke up, looked outside, and went “meh, I don’t feel like going to work today… So I won’t. ”

I was excited when we found the first museum, El Museo Penitenciario (the Penitentiary Museum). We both agreed it was a Penitentiary-Museum-kind-of-day. Unfortunately, the sign on the door simply said, “Closed until further notice.” Darn. OK, we thought, no biggie. Onto the next one, the Museo de Arte Moderno. Because of the rain and our flimsy umbrellas, I decided to cheat and ask someone for directions instead of pulling out my map (I love maps — I can find my way on foot ANYWHERE in ANY city).

I asked a group of security guards at one of the official-looking buildings where I could find the Museum of Modern Art. The response from a female guard, one word: “CERRADO” (“CLOSED”). I asked, “closed….For the day, or until when?” This elicited the same response: “CERRADO.” I decided to try one more time… “Yes, I understand it’s closed right now, but when will it be open?” The response this time, “el 25 de mayo.” Hmm… I leave BsAs May 7, and I know when people don’t want to chat. This woman was done answering questions. My assignment was off to a bumpy start, but Shannon and I were determined to hit another target.

We finally arrived at the next museum, and sure enough, it said “Closed today.” Why?! We still don’t know. Shannon and I looked at each other, laughed, and I just said, “Welcome to Argentina!” Hehe. It’s her first time.

Ever since the initial speed bumps, we’ve had a lot of success. The sun came out, I’ve been hitting restaurants, bars, milongas (underground tango spots), museums, parks, and ice cream shops as planned. Not gonna lie — it’s a LOT of work, but I’m enjoying the assignment because I’m learning about this city and some of its neighborhoods in a new way, becoming more familiar, becoming less familiar, all at the same time.

Yesterday, after an awesome night at La Puerta Roja, a hip and popular speakeasy-style bar (yes, with a red door) where I got to talk with one of the awesome owners (who is from New Zealand), made friends with the bartender (an Israeli), and drink with an Australian and an Argentine (speaking all in Spanish – I promise! I made that a rule!), Shannon and I decided to take it easy. I found a tea place I love, called Tea Connection, which put big smiles on both our hungover faces (the effects of making friends with a bartender). Then we wandered through the nearby park, browsed the very impressive and beautiful artisan market just down the street from my apartment in Recoleta, and ate fresh squeezed juice with candied almonds (both made in front of us) while taking in the sounds of the city. A drumming troop — 10 to 12 young Argentines pounding on drums of different sizes and shapes — gave an upbeat, pulse to the market. Groups of friends lay out in the grass, sipping bombillas of mate, playing guitar, singing, and eating fruit in the sun.

When you are in a foreign city, and all the senses are suddenly awakened — with the smell of roasting nuts, the sound of drumming, the sight of preppy, hippy, and Rastafarian locals blending with English and Portuguese-speaking tourists, the sun feeling strong and warm on your winterized skin, the orange juice tasting sweet, the aroma of smoked meat constantly mixing in the breeze — only then do you feel like you’re finally there.

I’m here — home, but far away — and with the sun shining this morning, I’m going to go finish my coffee on the terrace before another day of Buenos Aires-living swallows us up.

HELLO, T w/ T readers! No, I have not forgotten you.

First, I want to thank everyone who submitted song suggestions for my travel playlist. You inspired me to download some new tunes, and I will surely take your suggestions with me on my next adventures. I’ll update the playlist as soon as I have a chance. Until then, feel free to keep the music ideas coming!

As some of you know, my life has been a bit of a whirlwind lately… And the chaos has only just begun! I’m constantly buzzing around and am CRAZY nonstop busy with a task-list that seems endless.  BUT, it’s all exciting. I got back from an exceedingly long trip from Italy Sunday evening (flight was delayed 2 hrs, then took 9.5 hrs, then we waited 45 minutes on the plane for a gate to open up at the overly busy JFK terminal,  then another 45 minutes for our stuff, and then an HOUR for a cab from the airport, which was followed by a bit of Easter Sunday traffic). Sitting on a plane for 10 hrs  (I was seated in the middle of the middle — this is what happens when I don’t book the ticket myself! I’m an aisle girl, through and through!) during the daytime is not exactly my dream come true, but it was a pleasant enough flight.  I watched 3 movies, including the not-smooth transition from Precious (yep, I cried just a drop or two) to Paranormal Activity, which I actually enjoyed not paying for and watching on a plane full of people. Hehe.

Between landing Sunday evening (on Euro-time… I was exhausted!) and now, I have spent a good portion of every day waiting for someone to call my crumpled up three-digit number at the Ecuadorian Consulate in midtown. Sitting in a room full of Ecuadorians is a good little preview of what’s to come. For starters, at 5’9”, I could estimate that I am an average of two feet taller than most Ecuadorians (and I was the only “white” in a room full of 50-100 tan people with jet black, slicked back hair – although I don’t feel totally WHITE, but whatevs), sometimes even with two standing on top of each other! Maybe it’s because of the altitude in Quito that these people are all so low to the ground, but it’s kind of cool… Hehe. I don’t know. I was trying to learn more about the Ecuadorian culture, perhaps some tidbit that would explain their indigenous features (the straight, downward pointed nose, short bulky stature, small limbs, and tiny hands), but all I got was an Ecuadorian DVD about a tribe in the north that has some ritual where the members of the tribe puke all their food up into one big delicious bowl of slop. Needless to say, neither I nor the real Ecuadorians in the room were enjoying the entertainment provided by the consulate.

Speaking of, I have to head to the Ecuadorian Consulate now (it opens at 8am) to HOPEFULLY pick up my Visa and passport, which I need by Friday because on Monday I am off to Argentina! See what I mean? I’m scrambling to take care of big things in the cracks of major trips! I’ve barely even thought about Argentina, I’m so obsessed with Ecuador right now, but it’s time to switch modes.

Oy. Another 10-hr flight awaits… and another adventure. Time is WHOOSHING by! But birds are chirping, New York City is completely blooming, petals are flying everywhere, I smell cherry blossoms and magnolias in the street air, and the city is just bursting with happiness right now. I LOVE THIS WEATHER. I’m going for a bike ride along the Hudson River every day, and hopefully I’ll squeeze in a row on the Harlem before Monday. I might be busy as heck, but I’m definitely out there smelling the roses. I promise.

Now, to get us (me) in the South American mood, here’s a Mystery Snapshot from a South American country. Tell me what you see, more specifically where it is located (what country or countries -HINT- it might capture), and what you know about this place….

HAPPY SPRING!

Every season has a soundtrack. It’s time for a new one!

Every phase of life, every relationship, every chapter of your story has its songs that will forever transport you back into moments that have passed but can be relived each time the song is played. Some songs are triggers; they remind you of home and can make you both ecstatic and homesick to hear when you’re far away [for me, I predict: Jay-Z featuring Alicia Keys “Empire State of Mind” to have this effect on me in Ecuador], some trigger memories of a specific person who loved you and then maybe broke your heart [those songs are pretty loaded, as they can bring up both wonderful and difficult emotions — and no, I will not share mine, but – for better or for worse – I’ve got some of those!], and then there are the songs that remind you of how FUN a certain time was [ahhh, the list of songs that will forever remind me of crew parties and random laughing fits or dance parties with my college friends and teammates is endless and wonderful].

And THEN, there are the times when you need new songs, before they become the soundtrack to any memories. That’s where I am at right NOW.

I’m about to do a LOT of traveling. Long flights to Rome and back will be quickly followed by the 10-hr flight to Buenos Aires and back, and eventually the one-way flight to Quito. But, here’s a little problem I have: I don’t sleep on planes. That’s right, not one minute. Ever. AND, I refuse to take sleeping pills in any form. The only thing I will take is Melatonin (a natural supplement that supposedly helps adjust your body’s clock to the time zone you’re in, based on sunlight), but even that is something I avoid. Usually, I like to just let my body figure it out and accept I’ll be running on empty for a while, which I’m capable of even if it’s not fun. What I’m saying is… I need new music. Lots of it.

The one and only time I ever attempted to take a sleeping pill was on a direct flight from NYC to Tokyo. Because I’m pretty small and sensitive to the effects of most medication, I decided to take half an Ambien about an hour into the JFK-Narita flight. The next seven or eight hours of the 12.5 hr flight consisted of me trying to figure out if my head was still attached to my body or if it was floating three feet above me. I pretty much was trapped in my window seat (two sleeping Japanese business men locked me in) alone, drooling like a slobbering dog, and completely confused for the entirety of the flight. I did not sleep; instead, I drifted in and out of a woozy world that hummed as it stood completely still. I. Am. Never. Taking. Half. An. Ambien. Again. (MAYBE a whole one some day, but even that I hope to avoid.)

Now back to the task at hand…

Over the summer, we created “The Ultimate Travel Playlist.” It was FABULOUS, but we’ve all probably moved on from that phase. Today, I’m asking all of you to shake it up, refresh the list, and give me a NEW set of songs to accompany me on all my upcoming travels (and yours). They can have NOTHING to do with travel, and everything to do with the stuff that just makes you feel good about life right now. I’m looking for new or relatively new music, and I know you’ve got it.

Please, give me some good stuff to listen to as I stare at the seat in front of me while everyone around me sleeps. Submit, as a comment, your list of three to five songs you think I should listen to on my trips. As always, I will kick things off so you feel comfortable. Here are a few of the  “popular” songs that have been on my workout playlist over the past few months. They get my heart pumpin’ and have put me in a I-can-take-on-the-world good mood. What songs put you in that mood? SHARE THOSE.

1. Michael Buble, “Feeling Good”

2. Lady Gaga, “Teeth” [BEST song to spin to! We listened to this in my spinning class and pedal to the beat. It’s fast, but it’s SO invigorating when you’re ready to bust it out and GO!]

3. Kings of Leon, “Notion”

ALSO, I will definitely be listening to my fabulous and incredibly talented friend, Samantha Farrell and her entire album, Luminous, including “Someday” “Lady Luck” and “Fade Away”

This is NOT about judging someone’s taste. Share your list of artists and song titles, independent or popular… Clearly, I am not a music snob, so don’t be shy. Have fun with it!