Travels with Tavel

January 28, 2012 · 11:13 am

Bull in a Classroom

A new semester has begun.

You know when those horses bust out of their gates at the beginning of a race, the jockeys whipping them with a crop, screaming and kicking as the horses’ legs spring from the dirt like it’s lava they don’t want to touch? That’s kind of how I feel (except I am both the horse and the jockey in this case, I think). The gate has flung open and it’s all systems GO now. Back to school for me!

I’ve decided to take on this spring semester like a bull in a bull fight (uhoh, analogy overload?). I want so badly to conquer this semester, to keep my focus on the red cape, to attack it, to charge through it, so I’m going to do everything in my power to make that happen. Sometimes I feel more like a bull in a china shop flailing around trying to control this science thing, breaking lots of dishes along the way instead. But, hey, at least I’m going into the shop as a bull and I’m coming out a bull — no flimsy china can change that.

Bull in my path. Cotopaxi Province, Ecuador.

This whole post-bacc pre-med thing is HARD! (Oh right, I’ve mentioned that about 50 times already — but it’s worth repeating!) I hope to have more control over the material now. Last semester, I learned more than just science; I learned how to be a student all over again — a different kind of student than I had ever needed/wanted to be. Everything I knew — about studying, about what matters in a classroom, about how to do well, about how to be a top student — was all quickly thrown out the window a month or two in. The small class sizes I had experienced my whole life were suddenly replaced with 700-person lecture courses on a subject I knew the least about. Class participation now means nothing. Who you are as a student means nothing. Only numbers count. I am a student ID number, not a person. My grades are computed by a computer. Every test is multiple choice, filled out with #2 pencils in a new class room every test. Until last fall, I had never been in a class with more than 50 people — ever, and usually there were fewer than 25. I use the word “classroom” loosely, as all our biology and chemistry lectures take place in NYU’s largest theater, with the professor on stage, attendance taken by remote control devices called iClickers that we must bring to every class (both to click in and to answer multiple choice questions throughout the lecture, which appear on a spreadsheet for the professor when he/she gets to his/her office), and we have to grab black boards to rest on our laps so that we have a surface upon which to take notes.

Every week, there are at least three quizzes — two of which are online (laced with exasperating technical problems), one of which is during our Chemistry recitations on Friday mornings. You can never sit back and relax. You can never feel on top of the material because this place is like a factory set at a very high pace, and if one link in the sequence hits a snag and slows down, the whole contraption will fail. If you ever want to get ahead, you must teach yourself the material. In fact, most of my studying is trying to teach myself material. I’ve never experienced an academic environment like this, but apparently it is the pre-med way! I’m used to being taught. I’m used to asking questions as I go, having the material explained, learning piece by piece. This is all so different — it’s on YOU to learn. It’s on you to get help. It’s on you to do well, and even you (oh, I mean me) don’t ever feel like you have total control over that part of the equation. But somehow, in this giant system, there is a chance to do well if you can find a way to grab the golden ring while the Merry-Go-Round of science spins you in circles… and I’ve got to go for it.

Galapagos Hawks. Galapagos Islands, Ecuador.

When I began Chem I and Bio I in the fall, I can honestly say that for the first three weeks, I had absolutely no idea what was going on (particularly in biology). It was a horrible, disarming, humbling feeling. The amount of material that was referenced and breezed over because I was “supposed to” know it already (like the rest of the fresh-out-of-AP-Bio-pre-med-freshman surrounding me — the real ones) was beyond my expectations, even though I anticipated it would be this way (but not to the extent that it was!). Taking on my least-studied subject at this level at this age has clearly been an uphill battle from the start, and it took me weeks — even months — to find my footing in this new world of science that I had been dropped into like ET on Earth (without a cute kid feeding me candy), but I think I’ve finally found that footing.

All I can say is that the learning curve has been steep! But, here I am, ready to take everything I’ve learned — both about science and about being this new, different kind of student that I have to be in order to succeed in this foreign pre-med world — and apply it to this new semester. Such is life, no?

The look of determination.... on a giant tortoise in the Galapagos Islands.

Every week, when I leave the spinal injury rehab and brain trauma rehab centers of my hospital volunteer job, after working with brand new paraplegics who are learning things as basic as how to get back into their wheelchair if they fall out, and brain trauma patients with staples across their entire scalp whose toughest question every morning is what is their own name, I am reminded of how much I want to do this, of how much I want to learn the skills to be able to help these people, and of how much learning is still (always) ahead.

For now, I’m just happy to have something red to charge towards.

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January 22, 2012 · 10:15 am

A Brief Tour of Cairo

Time to reveal the Mystery Snapshot! But first, I want to quickly say THANK YOU to the past four weeks. My staycation has come to its inevitable end, and tomorrow I head back to school for more NYU pre-med intensity. It’s been a pleasure having a social life again, but farewell dear friends… Back into the study cave I go. (Although, I am determined to have a little more control over this semester — both academically and socially, so we’ll see how it pans out.)

Alright…

The Mystery Snapshot was taken outside of Hatshepsut’s Temple, built just outside the Valley of the Kings (Cairo, Egypt). Andy, you are the official Mystery Snapshot winner. Good job! Egypt is one of those places I’ve been wanting to visit for years. Some day, I will actually get over there. For now, I’ve got this post.

Below, guest contributor, Raechel H. explains more about Hatshepsut’s Temple and about Cairo itself. (Enjoy!)

Guest Contributor Raechel H. w Sphinx and Pyramids in Egypt.

By Raechel H:

Random fact about Hatshepsut: She was the longest-reigning female ruler in Ancient Egyptian history. She ruled for 22 years, when she took over for her husband. Basically, her son, Tuthmosis III was supposed to take over, but Hatshepsut declared that he was too young to assume the throne. Instead, she sent him to military school abroad, and ruled herself. Eventually, Tuthmosis III came back, took over, and then tried to erase Hatshepsut from Egyptian history. She built tons of temples, obelisks, and other monuments to the gods, and Tuthmosis tried to destroy all of them – thankfully he did not succeed.

What’s really cool (in my opinion) is that for the longest time it was believed that Hatshepsut’s mummy was missing. Turns out, they found the mummy of Hatshepsut’s favorite nurse in her tomb, and found a tooth in some kind of box. A few years ago, they x-rayed the box, and the tooth fit PERFECTLY in another mummy that was already in the Egyptian museum in Cairo! So they had Hatshepsut’s mummy all along!

Foreground: courtyard of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo (symbol of ancient Egypt). Background: Mubarak's National Democratic Party HQ, a symbol of Egyptian modernity

EGYPT:

Egypt is a place I’ve wanted to visit since I was a kid, and especially during the past year (which is no surprise to the people that know me, I’m sure). Egypt provides a fascinating juxtaposition of ancient and modern culture, in the cross-world between sub-Saharan Africa and the rest of the Middle East.

Pyramids. Cairo, Egypt. Photo by RH.

Cairo itself is an enigma of sorts; it is absolutely overflowing with people (approximately 18 million officially, but more likely close to 21 million residents), and every one of them seems to have a car. All of that on top of ancient aquaducts, pyramids at the city limits (you can see the Cairo skyline from Giza), ancient markets, and the Citadel. Traffic in Cairo is like nothing I’ve ever experienced — absolute gridlock at all times of day, with the exception of Friday mornings when everyone is at prayer or at home.

Cairo graffiti outside voting site for Parliamentary elections. Photo by RH.

During the Revolution, I didn’t understand why my friends who live in Cairo were making such a big deal about no one being on the roads, about it being completely shut down – but now I certainly do. The traffic itself is absolutely fascinating. Cairo drivers get into this rhythm where they’re able to find every hole in every lane as they progress down a highway or main thoroughfare, and that’s how they progress from point A to point B. Lane lines, when present, are merely suggestions – not absolute. And most times, you’ll see at least one car, truck, or motorbike driving the opposite direction from the rest of the traffic. As multiple Egyptians told me, this is “democracy in action – you can drive whichever way you like. If people don’t like it, they can have another revolution!” Crazy to hear members of the Egyptian military joke about this, but it’s a good sign that people are proud of what they’ve accomplished.

Solar boat, discovered in the 1980s. It was found buried in The Great Pyramid. Its purpose was to transport the Pharoah to the afterlife (in particular, to the Sun God, Ra). Photo by RH.

I was fortunate enough to be there during the Parliamentary elections – seeing lines of men and women at the polls was pretty inspiring. I was able to hit up the Khan el-Khalili (the famous market), wandering around the Ali Muhammad mosque and the Citadel, meandering through Islamic Cairo, trying out fantastic restaurants, and walking through Tahrir Square (although we were discouraged to do so).

Temple of Hatshepsut. Photo by RH.

Obelisk built by Hatshepsut, which Tuthmosis III tried to destroy by essentially covering it up. Ironically, this just preserved the obelisk, leaving much of the original details visible. Photo by RH.

During my trip, I was able to check out Luxor. I left as Cairo started to get crazy again (there was a sit-in at Parliament that led to clashes between different sides), which was probably good timing. Luxor is the complete opposite of Cairo: it’s pretty tiny, there are only a few hotels where tourists stay, and you absolutely have to take a cab to get from point A to point B. Luxor is more restrictive than Cairo in that sense – in Cairo we could walk around a lot more (mainly because there were things close by, in Luxor that’s not really the case). Since I was solo, I hired a guide and a driver (a friend of mine connected me with a good company), and saw Karnak and Luxor temples before exploring the Valley of the Kings and Colossi of Memnon.

Cartouche for Ramses II, the longest ruler of Ancient Egypt (this particular cartouche is engraved all over Karnak Temple in Luxor). Photo by RH.

The guide and I talked about a lot of things — the revolution in Egypt, Occupy Wall Street, the impact of everything on Egyptian tourism (tourism has obviously taken a major hit, which is problematic), the efforts that the government is making to regulate and organize things a bit more (to try and give licenses so folks can set up stalls to sell things outside of tourist areas rather than letting various people bombard tourists who are trying to enjoy what they’re seeing), and Luxor itself. After everything we discussed, I left with a bit of hope that maybe Egypt, post-election, can go back to a semi-normal state.

Mosque built at what was street level before they discovered the Luxor Temple. The mosque is still a functioning prayer site. Photo by RH.

Additions to Luxor Temple made by Alexander the Great. Photo by RH.

I definitely need to go back and see more – there are tons of sites in Luxor that I was not able to explore, and I did not make it down to Aswan or along the southern border (which I’ve been told is pretty amazing). Hopefully, I’ll be able to make that happen soon – and I’m always looking for someone to travel with me if anyone is interested!

Luxor Temple, Egypt.

Egyptian Sunset. Photo by RH.

Raechel lives and works in Washington, DC; Raechel and Tavel met while Raechel was conducting a Fulbright Fellowship in Brussels, Belgium. While Egypt was phenomenal, Raechel’s favorite place to travel is Rome, where she spent a year abroad. She hopes to continue to cross countries and continents off her bucket list, and will head to Costa Rica this Summer with her family.

So there ya have it – Egypt. THANK YOU Raechel for contributing to TwT!

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Mystery Snapshot Time

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a Mystery Snapshot. Call it nostalgia, call it envy, or just call it Tavel-has-an-extra-bit-of-time-during-her-last-few-days-of-vacation… Whatever you call it, here’s the deal:

I may be staying put, but I’ve still got friends traveling all over the world all the time. So, without further ado and/or rambling about how I don’t get to travel enough anymore, here is a Mystery Snapshot provided by a mystery friend who will tell us more about it in a follow-up post later this week.

For now, can you tell me:

1) The country in which this was taken

2) The city

3) The temple

4) Any other random fact related to this — whether it is from an architectural, historical, or personal perspective

The more detailed you can get, the better. If you’ve been – tell us. If you’ve written about it, link to that post. As always, the winners will get an honorable mention and linkage to their blog (if that’s your thing) in the next post. Or if you prefer, I can just tell everyone that you are very sexy. Happy Wanderlust-ing.

Jan 2012 Mystery Snapshot

OK… GO!

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Filed under Mystery Snapshots, Travel

January 9, 2012 · 10:34 am

Vacation Without A Vacation

Vacation has been Heaven-sent. I cannot tell you how much I am LOVING the time off! (Or maybe I just did.) Well, calling the time “off” is generous; the fact is, I am pretty much constantly writing and editing my sample chapter for the second round of submissions to editors/publishers, and a second chance at making this lil’ book-dream of mine come true. It is thrilling and terrifying (in a good way) and my fingers and toes are crossed in every direction.

Chilling in the spring-like winter upstate this past weekend. Dutchess County, NY.

Writing and editing all break has been a welcome change from all the science. It’s challenging in its own way, but at least I’m working with words — my native tongue. I’m back to science — what I can now consider my third language, I suppose — in two weeks, and boy am I savoring the final days of freedom. Once it starts back up, I will be studying like there is no tomorrow. The amount of additional tiny pieces I have to put into place in order to get this whole grad school plan in motion is pretty overwhelming, but I’m trying to take it one day at a time for now.

New Year's Day sunset walk by the Hudson River. NY, NY.

Even though I’m sitting here, intensely jealous of my friends who just posted photos from trips to Thailand, Egypt and South Africa last week, I know my “trip” is awesome in its own way — albeit less sexy. It stings a little to have to subdue the travel bug I’ve got constantly crawling around my mind, but I know I’m doing what I want to be doing. I’m trying to think of it as just having more time than usual to plan for my next trip. Lemme tell ya — when I get on that plane and fly somewhere far away from all this work (preferably with someone very special, TBD) — man, is that trip going to fucking blow my mind. Until then, I’ll keep looking at all of your photos, reading about all of your trips, minding my own business and attempting to keep my arms and head inside the vehicle I’m on.

Trying to make two dreams come true at the same time is actually one of the scariest and most exciting trips I’ve ever been on. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some more writing to do.

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Filed under Life Stuff, New York City, School, Travel, Winter

December 29, 2011 · 10:30 am

2011 in the Rearview Mirror

The time has come. One week ago today, I completed my third and last final exam of my first semester as a 28-yr-old pre-med freshman. For a couple weeks, it felt like the end point might never come. As friends threw holiday parties that I couldn’t attend, and family got together for annual gatherings I couldn’t participate in, I kept my head in my books with flimsy blinders on and worked relentlessly towards the large margarita I promised myself when the hardest academic semester of my life would be complete. To say I worked hard in 2011 is an understatement. Walking out of that final exam was like walking out of an airplane into the warm breeze of an island vacation (minus the warm breeze, and the island). It was absolutely liberating, like the first swim of summer, like the first iced chai of the spring, like walking out of a final exam has always felt — only bigger and better. All that matters now is that I MADE IT.

Pedicab driving through the aftermath of last year's blizzard. Winter, 2011, Central Park, NYC.

Everyone reading this post made it through something this year, so give yourself a pat on the back. Let’s look back at what the heck happened in 2011, the year of no Travels for this Tavel…

For me, 2011 was a year of change — big change. I decided to completely change my career from that of a travel writer living in South America to the career I always secretly wished I had pursued, a Doctor of Physical Therapy. I took my first standardized test in 11 years. I re-taught myself math. I used a calculator for the first time in a decade, and then a million more times after that. I got into a post-bacc pre-med program. I bought textbooks, #2 pencils, and erasers. I enrolled in classes I never thought I’d have to take. I studied science for the first time in 13 years, at a level I was unprepared for, and spent hours in the lab with goggles, a lab coat, and gloves on, handling chemicals and performing titrations. Just before it all started, I squeezed in a family trip to Puerto Rico. I moved downtown. By a remarkable stroke of luck and/or serendipity, I met a literary agent who was interested in my story. I began writing a book. I traded the adventure of traveling for the adventure of attempting the hardest career track I can think of for myself. I worked my butt off, I spent more time in the library than I did during my entire undergraduate education combined, but I haven’t looked back.

Snowman on the Great Lawn. Central Park, NYC.

I lost a friend. I lost a dear uncle. I watched as a loved one fought the fight against aggressive cancer and the subsequent effects of chemo (she’s kicking butt, thank you very much!). I missed out on a lot of fun times with friends and family by choosing to study instead (including not one, but TWO trips to New Orleans! WAH). I watched four friends and my older sister get married in some of the most beautiful weddings I’ve ever seen. I watched friends become first-time mothers and first-time fathers. Sometimes I laughed so hard I cried. Sometimes, I just cried because things were hard. I spent hours working with paraplegics and brain trauma patients at my hospital volunteer job (how I wish I could say more about that). I learned more than I ever thought I could cram into a year. (This seems to be a trend lately.) In the end, 2011 was pretty life-changing. These changes will be carried into 2012, and beyond.

Sure, my big lofty goals have completely humbled me and knocked me onto my knees at times [see older posts], but that comes with the territory when you take on a challenge. I can definitely say that I’m going into 2012 with a little more swagger, and more certainty than ever in who I am, what I want, and what I am doing. So there goes 2011, in all its glory. And here comes 2012, chock-full of more challenges in the form of Bio II, Chem II, Physics I and II, and Anatomy & Physiology I and II. But with those challenges comes more opportunities for reward. And with each reward, another delicious margarita.

Onward and upward: riding towards Ruminhahui Peak in Cotopaxi Province, Ecuador.

It’s hard to believe how little I’ve traveled lately, but sometimes the adventure is about staying put, focusing on a goal, driving hard straight towards it, and peering out of the window once in a while to watch the beautiful scenery go by from the comfort of the driver’s seat. I’ll get out and walk around again some day soon, but this is a long drive. And in my experience, sometimes the longest drives take you to the most beautiful places. You just have to trust that where you’re going is worth it, and keep driving.

I am so grateful for 2011 and all that came with it. Thank you for joining me for the journey. Cheers to 2012, a year of working hard towards the sweet satisfaction of accomplishing what we have all set out to do. Feel free to share whatever that may be for you!

Reflection of Friends. Quito, Ecuador.

Since it is the year of the Summer Olympics (OMG, I CANNOT WAIT!! So many tall men in spandex! YIPPY!), here’s a video to keep you all motivated for whatever you’re trying to accomplish. And yes, everything relates to rowing:

Oh, and one more thing: HAPPY FREAKIN’ NEW YEAR!!!! Love, TwT.

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December 9, 2011 · 9:51 am

Two Brides, One Dress: The Story About Something Blue

As my sister researched for her upcoming wedding, a New York Magazine article written by Ariel Levy (April, 2007) caught her attention. The article was about the author’s struggle to find her place in her own wedding which, because she was marrying a woman, seemed to come with a lot of questions (both from herself and from her friends and family) — most of which she could not answer. One of the biggest unknowns of all had to do with the one item that, for many, almost defines you on your wedding day: the dress. But in the case of two brides, what’s a gal to do?

My sister connected to the author’s confusion because she too had fallen completely in love with a woman. Months later, she was engaged and wearing a stunning diamond ring just like any other bride-to-be. A few more months later, so was her future wife. Hey, two diamond rings are better than one!

Now what?

As the wedding planning commenced, the happy couple began to get a little flustered, finding themselves stuck somewhere between the traditional wedding hullabaloo and themselves. Yet, there was never any question: they would both be wearing dresses (people seem to assume that in a gay wedding between two women, one is going to wear the suit… why is that?). But then there was the question as to whether or not one, or both of them, would wear the expected white wedding gown…

My sister (“S”) never wanted a white dress. She never fantasized about getting married. But the second she found “C” (her future bride), everything changed.

Did C want to wear the white dress? In how many weddings is the white wedding gown up for grabs? Then there was the question of whether or not they deliberately did not want to have a white dress involved. The nice thing about a wedding, which people often forget, is that it is your day (plural – there are TWO people involved, remember?!). I find the bride-centric, wedding-obsessed world so bizarre. Who says everything has to be the same as it is in every other wedding? Sometimes it baffles me how similar weddings tend to be, and how bride-obsessed. A gay wedding almost gives more allowance to stray from expectations; it allows more opportunity to make a wedding one’s own ideal party. But then there is the dilemma of two brides wanting it to be like other weddings just to show that it is equal in magnitude — that it’s a real wedding like anyone else’s, only their own version of one. And so the quest for the perfect dress (two of them) began.

White Dress. Photo by Kelly Prizel.

After trying on many dresses that were either too casual or just not “her,” the author (Ariel) found herself standing in the lobby of the Manhattan Carolina Herrera store, in her very own beat up running sneakers, eyeing dresses she never thought she’d want.

One stood out.

It wasn’t long before she was purchasing the dress that made her feel everything a bride is supposed to feel. She was in love. Amidst the racks of wedding gowns, a light blue dress caught her eye. The dress was a gown, but it was neither too fancy nor too understated. Large dark brown, hand-painted flowers crept up the side of the skirt, and thin black straps clung to her shoulders. As she stood staring at herself in the mirror, she knew her search was over. Two searches, in fact. But in this case, she decided to keep the details (echem, the price tag) to herself.

At the time (2007), a gay wedding was, as the author explained, “not a real wedding” — at least not according to the state of New York. But she and her partner were celebrating the same things: love, commitment, family. They were just celebrating in a slightly different way.

For the author, planning the “wedding” (which Ariel awkwardly and self-consciously referred to as her “party about love”), became an uncoordinated dance with tradition. There she was, throwing this huge party and looking for that special once-in-a-lifetime dress, realizing that she didn’t have to follow all the “rules.” In fact, they could do whatever they wanted! All brides can, but there is something about wanting to be in the “club” — the married, white dress. wedding club — that gave it legitimacy. Admitting this desire to feel her wedding was as legitimate as anyone else’s, and needing to prove that, can go against one’s best intentions to deny this need but, alas, it may be the truth.

Carolina Herrera dress. Photo by Kelly Prizel.

As my sister found herself in the same position, searching the racks of Soho designer shops for the dress that fit her best — both physically and personality-wise — she began to get frustrated. All the excitement and anticipation of the wedding and finding a dress began to weigh on her. As she and her fiance shopped simultaneously for the right dress (two of them), they found dresses that suited one and not the other. Then there was the issue of whether the dresses should match — one couldn’t be flashier than the other, one couldn’t be bigger, more understated, or less beautiful than the other. Finding one dress can be challenging enough; how were they going to find two?!

It wasn’t long before my sister also found herself in the Carolina Herrera shop, wearing sneakers, trying on gowns that — to her surprise — were the most beautiful dresses she had ever wanted. Yet she couldn’t seem to forget the blue dress from the New York Magazine article. The more dresses she tried on, the more she pouted, wishing she could find her own light blue dress. For her, that dress was it. When you know, you know, right?

C, being an awesome and sneakily romantic fiance, took note. After finding her own perfect white wedding gown at Kleinfeld’s, it was time for my sister to find hers. C got on her laptop and did some research. Sure enough, she found Ariel Levy’s contact information, and did what every awesome future spouse should do for his/her future wife: she sent Ariel an email.

Ariel responded. Within weeks, C surprised my sister with the news: that the dress was still available, hanging like a beautiful, glamorous ghost in the author’s closet, and Ariel wanted to share it with another gay bride. My sister, ecstatic (and possibly more in love with C than ever), hopped on the plane from San Francisco (where they live) to New York and headed eagerly to Ariel’s apartment.

The dress. Photo by Kelly Prizel.

There it was — the dress. After chatting and laughing with Ariel and her wife in their living room, it was time for the moment of truth. S left the room. During her conversation with Ariel, she realized they were a similar size and shape, and they got along wonderfully. But would the dress be the perfect dress for two brides? The anticipation had mounted, but when S slipped it on and walked out to show her future bride how she looked, she couldn’t contain her smile. It fit. This was it. Another bride’s search was over.

How the Jewish, half-Argentinean, New York venture capitalist found her born-in-Korea, raised in South Dakota and Iowa, entrepreneur dream girl is one of the mysteries of the universe, but at least one more question has been answered: they do. One month before their “party about love,” the state of New York legalized gay marriage. Their party about love was now going to be a wedding — a real, actual wedding just like it was supposed to be, just like everyone understood it to be, only with an extra dress.

Sure, you can call it a gay wedding if you want. Who cares? To us, it was a wedding… an amazing, beautiful, (legal), HAPPY celebration of two people who have fallen totally in love, and both happen to wear dresses. It was hosted by our parents at our house in upstate New York, and one of the attention-grabbing uninvited guests happened to be Hurricane Irene. Despite the threat of the wedding being cancelled due to violent weather, over 75% of the guests showed up in our backyard, wearing dresses and rubber boots despite road closings, crazy rain, and unpredictable circumstances. All were ready to celebrate the happiest couple most of us had ever seen. And celebrate we did! Despite all the details that may have made it unlike your standard, traditional “ideal” wedding (ie: the power going out while my parents hosted over 17 stranded travelers in candlelight, the band having to leave early, and a whole lot of mud), it was absolutely PERFECT. And I don’t use the word perfect often.

When it comes to finding “the one” (your wedding dress, of course), does it really matter what color it is, where you found it, or who designed it? No. All that matters is that when you try it on (after trying on more dresses than you ever wanted to), you know it is the one for you. Because sometimes, one dress just fits. And sometimes, two do.

All photography in this post is the beautiful work of photographer, Kelly Prizel.

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Filed under Love, weddings

November 21, 2011 · 7:27 am

One Year Since Ecuador

It has been one year since I lived in Ecuador.

As I sit here working on a paper about the atomic structure of copper, I want to dedicate this entry to remembering the adventures of my “old” life. Last night, I spoke with my parents about the choices that my four siblings and I have made/are making in our twenties. I spoke about how eternally grateful I am for having had the experience I did while in Ecuador. Granted, I was pretty sick most of the time, I was attempted robbed three times (but for the record – nobody got a dime off of me, echem, even with razor blades involved), my building was broken into, I had many frustrations, and at a certain point I knew that it was time for me to come home and make some decisions… that didn’t stop me from having some of the best and most inspiring adventures of my life.

These videos, created by my then VIVA Travel Guides intern and now good friend Allison (AKA “The Traveling Bard”), capture — at least in one form — some of the experience. I guess with Thanksgiving around the corner, it seemed appropriate to recognize how grateful I am for the adventures I’ve had. I distinctly remember one bus ride, when about five friends and I made the 10 hour overnight trip from Canoa (the beach) all the way up to Quito (a 9,400 foot climb through the Andes) to head straight to work. Everyone was sleeping, and I had a window seat on the rickety, dank bus. As it climbed from sea level into the mountains, I remember watching out my window in complete awe as layer upon layer of mountains spread out from all around us. It was just our bus in the entire sea of mountains, climbing up towards the most beautiful display of stars I think I will ever see. And while everyone slept, I may or may not have gotten choked up with happiness watching the scenery go by, because I knew I was living the life I wanted to live. The world is so clear when you feel like you and the stars are the only ones in it. I was living my dream, even if it turned out to be less perfect than I had imagined. I was in the thick of life, whatever mine would turn out to be.

I went to Ecuador immediately after getting my heart broken. I didn’t know a single soul in the entire country. I took a huge risk, I took some tumbles along the way, but now — one year later — I know I will forever be LUCKY that I ever took a chance. Juan the Amoeba (for all those who remember that little sucker) may have been a surprise visitor, but he is gone now. What’s left is some pretty f-ing incredible memories. So what can I say? Take the risk. And be grateful that you did, no matter what.

I’ve got to head to my 8am class. But check these out and enjoy my cameos, if you will:

And here is my attempt to make a video (not nearly as good as Allison’s but it was my first ever!):

A special thank you to ALLISON!! Follow her @ACarlton or check her out here http://www.allisoncarlton.com/ (side note: I took her homepage photo 🙂 Yay).

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Filed under Ecuador, Life Stuff, Travel

November 12, 2011 · 11:55 am

A Coconut in November

It’s that time of year. Wanderlust has begun to nestle itself comfortably in the back of my mind, surrounded by a bunch of fluffy pillows, waiting for me to come under the blanket with it and escape one world for another. As always, the invitation is hard for me to resist. When I cannot fully escape, at least I’ve got TwT.

Boat through the leaves. Zihuatanejo, Mexico.

Kite surfers in Cabarete, Dominican Republic.

A Haitian man selling snacks on the beach in Cabarete, exactly two weeks before the earthquake hit Haiti. Cabarete, Dominican Republic.

Lava rock and ocean in Kona. The Big Island, Hawaii.

Sunset above the clouds, from the top of Mauna Kea (10,000 feet up). Big Island, Hawaii.

Palm trees and ocean. San Juan, Puerto Rico.

This post is an invitation. Please contribute (as a comment) your #1 wanderlust destination right now (travel bloggers – please share a link if you’ve written about a destination you want to suggest!). For me, that place is an island somewhere in the Caribbean. I want to hike through a rainforest, sit by a beach, eat mouthful after mouthful of perfectly ripe fruit…

I cannot get the thought of soft sunshine, fresh coconuts, that very specific sound of palm tree leaves brushing against each other between waves, the call of birds, the smell of plumeria, the light breeze blowing over my knees, the too-hot sand, the too-fresh air that I want to scoop out of the sky and eat like a bowl of melting ice cream, the sound of calm, the delicious feeling of wanting to be nowhere else, the wish that I could somehow capture all these sensations and take them with me to my real life…

Who’s coming with me?

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November 3, 2011 · 7:45 am

Hill Climb

My quads burn, the sweat is literally dripping down my shoulders and neck. I am wearing my tightest ‘dex (spandex, that is) and I’m climbing the biggest hill of my SoulCycle workout, swaying from left to right with nothing but goals in my mind.

Biking the hills of Old Town Quito (Ecuador). Altitude: almost 10,000 ft. June 2010.

I’ve jacked up the resistance as high as my legs will allow. Everything hurts a little, but in all the good ways. I feel alive when it hurts a little. When you are forced to push yourself, you realize how much is there. I want to push harder but I feel a little nauseous in the steamy, candle-lit room. I’m surrounded by 50 other riders, but I’m spinning my own race. This song is playing (see bottom of post) and I’m thinking about everything I want to accomplish, everything that’s hurting, everything I’m climbing and burning for, and yet all that I’m really worried about is each pedal turn, one turn at a time, left then right… So, I keep pedaling.

Hiking the Paramo in Ecuador. Altitude: 4,000 m (over 13,000 ft - well over double the altitude of Denver/over two miles up)

I climb, but on a stationary bike there is no end point that you can see. You close your eyes to find it. As much as I want to get to the top, I love the burn along the way. It lets me know I’m working towards something… towards everything.

Sea Lion Trail. Galapagos Islands, Ecuador. November 2010.

One week from tomorrow, I’ve got Biology Midterm II. This is my chance. This is my opportunity to redeem myself from the last one. I’ve got to fight for it and it’s going to hurt along the way, but I’m pedaling and I’m feeling good and comfortable in the burn, in the sweat, in the fight to the top. I’m ready for this one. More ready than I was for the last one, at least. I’m loving the new material (genetics), I’m excited about doing this challenge all over again, and I’m still pedaling, giving it my best, because man do I want to be at the top of this hill again. I need to remember what it feels like. And I’m the only way to get there.

Happy Thursday.

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Filed under Life Stuff

October 22, 2011 · 9:41 am

Humble Pie Season

As I slowly arise very un-phoenix-like from two weeks of back-t0-back midterms, I find myself still looking up at a pretty sizable mountain that I’m not sure how to climb. In fact, it’s more like a jungle gym with moving parts and trap doors that open up right when I think I’ve found some stable ground. And somewhere in it, there is a guy who punches you in the face whenever you get to the top of a ladder. Oh! And there are sharks! (Somehow.) Yeah, sharks. And then there are Spartans throwing spears at you! And… thorns…everywhere…I think. Definitely thorns. And cockroaches. I HATE cockroaches, so they are crawling around making things worse. And… Ok, OK. Enough with the metaphors. (By now you should know that I can get carried away with those.)

Galapagos Hawk. Galapagos Islands, Ecuador. October 2010.

Forgive me. I’m just excited to be using words instead of “science” right now. Words are home. Science is that dark alley in a foreign country that you have to walk down knowing you could and/or will get robbed. But it’s the only way to get to your friends, so you clutch your bag, hold your head up high, and put on your don’t-fuck-with-me face as you begin to walk. Science is not home for me. It is not comfortable or natural to be surrounded by it. Not yet.

Street in Cotacachi, Ecuador.

I’ve gone from one goal to another, gradually lowering each one from big, grandiose goals of success that people write books about all the way down to the most basic and unappreciated accomplishment of all: survival. I wish I could say that all it takes is hard work, but what if even that is not enough?

I am the kind of person who thinks she can do anything. I think I’m taller than I am, I think I’m stronger than I am, and as it turns out, I guess I may think I’m smarter than I am (this one is the toughest pill to swallow!). I took a couple of hits these past few weeks, so it is important now to regroup and get fired up for a new round of the game. For what it’s worth, I discovered during the happy hours following each midterm that, when it comes to beer pong, which I haven’t played in years, I’ve still got it. HEY! Right now I’ll take being good at something, just to remember what it feels like. I’d like to be good at anything again!

Faceless woman. Old Town Quito, Ecuador.

Sometimes, in life, there are moments when you take a nibble of humble pie. Then there are the moments when you get the whole fucking pie thrown in your face by some asshole (right now, that asshole would be YOU, Biology!). This may be one of those moments. But I don’t care what kind of pie it is… I’m going to gobble it up until there’s nothing left.

As most of you know, I write not because I like to listen to my own thoughts and sulk or cheer or aimlessly share the minutiae of my life for shits and giggles [wow, I’m cursing a lot this morning]. I write because I know my experience is more universal than it feels, at times. Nobody wants to sit and eat their humble pie alone!

So, for all you readers out there (echo…echo…echo?), who wants to have a slice with me? The sooner it’s gone, the sooner I can conquer the world again.