Tales of a Tattered Suitcase

My opinion: whoever said life isn't fair was just plain wrong.

2011-02-05T10:46:00.000-08:00

In taking a year off to travel, I hoped that with the experiences would come rest, healing, peace, understanding and acceptance of my life. In all of that I had an ah-ha moment: life is fair.

After thinking about fairness in the larger global scale and reflecting on my life, I realized that life is fair and God is good, even if it doesn't feel true in the moment.

During the years of my mom being sick I'd sometimes be so mad that I'm the one with the mom battling cancer, the one watching her best friend die. Though her death is devastating, it isn't unjust because we have a God of Righteousness, and Goodness and Love. It feels like my mom died way too young , but for 31 years I had an incredible mother, caregiver, travel companion and friend that I hope to be more like every day. I wouldn't trade that quality for quantity, ever.When I meet orphans in Africa who have never know their moms my life seems way more than equitable.

I could argue that it is not fair that my parents got divorced when I was nine. But as a result my mom, brother and I developed a unique, tightly woven family relationship that was wonderful growing up. It can seem impossible to find justice in our lives, but it's there if we just look hard enough. Just because life is fair doesn't mean it isn't heartbreaking. It is, but heartbreak without hope isn't a sustainable way to live.

I saw a man on the news several months back whose entire family was killed in a home robbery. After the guilty verdict, his words rang so true for me. He said that the hole in his heart will never heal, it will never go away. But that over time, the edges of the hole become less jagged. The hole though, it will remain forever. I agree with him. I'm just trying to learn how to live with that hole that goes through my heart and pierces my soul.

Tomorrow will be two year since she left this earth. I miss her now more than ever, I miss her completely every day. She would want me to live out loud with the resilience she instilled in me rather than live in sadness. I honor her though my earthly living since she no longer can, and await the day we are reunited in Heaven.

It seems appropriate to finish with words my mom wrote in 2003:

"Some days I find it ironic to be praying to live. I'm sure when I get to heaven I'll wonder why I wanted to delay the trip. But we're made of dust, and it's hard to shake the dust off our feet. I know that when I'm old and tired, or sick and tired, I'll be ready to leave this earth.

My desire is to hang around down here and be a grandmother several times over. So I'm praying for continued remission or healing or whatever it is I'm experiencing. If God says, "No," I will have to depend on Him to help me be strong and brave and surrender gracefully. I'm not worried about being dead; it is the dying part that scares me. Actually, I'm really hoping for the rapture. But whatever happens, I know I'll be okay.

I'm thankful that I'm learning to recognize that God's plans and mine haven't always coincided. My plans usually revolved around certain circumstances dealing with temporal happiness, and His revolved around obedience and trials and lead to inner joy for me and glory for Him. So now, I try to write my plans in pencil and be ready to erase as He teaches me more about my purpose as His child."

- Sharon Jacobs

(I've included my mom's testimony video she recorded for her memorial service, it's split in two parts...)

The thing about Paris

2010-09-23T08:03:00.000-07:00

I struggle to sum up my summer in Paris. I'll start with what I know for sure: these past few months have been one of the most incredible experiences of my life. The uninhibited fun I had this summer rivals my college days. I'm certain I've never worked so hard or so much. My life in Paris required an inordinate amount of energy and the ability be highly functioning - even entertaining - on very little sleep. Even though my days were seemingly repetitive giving the same speeches on the same tour routes, every day was filled with an unexpected adventure.

Being a bicycle tour guide in the City of Light has to be the greatest job in the world. I met so many wonderful and interesting people this summer. I also met really annoying ones. How I'll ever sit in a cube again after having the streets of Paris as my office is hard to imagine. This job requires more patience and toughness than I ever knew I had in me. Back in July when I was working triples (16 hour day) and completely exhausted I thought that 31 August would never arrive. And now that it soared past I'm left me wanting to wind back the clock, not ready to say goodbye to the people or the position.

One evening a few weeks back after work a group of us had relay races on kiddie bikes. A bunch of ultra-competitive tour guides racing around on tiny 20 -inch bicycles was absolutely hysterical. I recently went to an "en plein air" cinema in a park and watched Grease. We sang along with Sandy and sipped French wine. It doesn't take an organized effort to have a wonderful night in Paris. Like the night I biked to meet friends at super cool restaurant called Ave Maria and devoured Himalyan food, then pedaled around the city. Those are perfect nights.

Bike Race

I'm all about biking now. I love biking to the market and putting fresh produce in my bike's basket. Pedaling home with a baguette makes me feel so French. Fortunately I never had one get stuck in my bicycle spokes. I'd love to live in a city where biking is a popular mode of transport. Lately I find myself day dreaming about what kind of business I'd like to open in Paris....taqueria perhaps? I'm also noodling on starting an adventure travel company for women. One that combines self-discovery, reaching stretch goals and devouring delicious food all while staying in a villa on a beautiful ocean for a week. Many new dreams and ideas noisely roll around my head like my suitcase wheels on cobblestone streets. I may get tired of the noise so pick one of the ideas up and carry it somewhere new.

I met a man on a train on my way down to Bordeaux that challenged me in conversation on the idea of "blissipline." His thought is that we need not worry about being disciplined and instead focus on what makes us happy and content. Making money in and of itself should never be a goal for someone; rather it should only be a means to the real goals, be them traveling, gardening, shopping, golfing. Travel is my blissipline. Engaging new people and triumphing over challenges are my blissipline. The past eight months since I left the US have been charging after my bliss.

Ten years ago I took my first bike tour in Munich. That's when I got the idea in my head that it would be great to be a bicycle tour guide in Europe. It's been a dream of mine for years to pack my corporate life into boxes and pack a bag for a trip around the world. I finally decided to turn my ideas into reality. No one gave me this chance, I just simply decided to stop waiting for my dreams to come to me and instead go after my dreams. It is never too late, too hard or too impossible to experience life in the way we really desire. The biggest obstruction standing in the way is ourselves. Now I'm warming up a whole new crock-pot full dreams and ten years from now I hope to be writing about how fulfilling they were, and coming up with new ones.

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream, gelato and sorbet

2010-09-20T15:24:00.000-07:00

Before I left for my around the world trip in January I had a question of great importance posed to me. One which required thoughtful consideration before answering, one which would be a true window to my soul. The question: what is your favorite flavor of ice cream? I thought about it for a minute and landed on vanilla as my favorite flavor. Good old fashioned creamy vanilla. I was scorned for my choice, scoffed at for such a simple choice. I knew that this summer on Fat Tire's night bike route that we stop for Paris' famous Berthillon ice cream (that I get for free) so it became my goal that by summer's end I'd have an answer for my favorite ice cream that is as firm as a fresh from the freezer carton of Blue Bell.

So with great vigor I set out on this quest of self-discovery. I've had sorbet, gelato and ice cream. I've had flavors I never knew existed. A few that I tried this summer: licorice, Speculos (like gingerbread), chocolate nougat, nougat with honey, pistachio, hazelnut, cherry, melon, lemon, mango, peach, pear, grapefruit, lychee, passion fruit, fig, lavender, banana, avocado, chocolate picante, chewing gum, Grand Marnier, yogurt with berries, Nutella, caramel and gingerbread, cactus, profiterole, Bounty, chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate, cappuccino, cafe, caramel with butter and salt. So much of the ice cream experience is the pairings. Picking two flavors of ice cream is a skill much like pairing fine wines with stinky cheeses. Only there is no class for this; something this delicate comes only with many years of practice. Two of my best parings of the summer were on night bike and they were chocolate nougat and pistachio, and cherry and melon sorbets. The biggest disaster was the pairing of Bounty and cactus. Often times I leave my pairings to the real pros and I tell the gelato scooper to surprise me with the two "best" gelatos. This technique has rarely failed me and generally pushes me to the outer bounds of cold creamy deliciousness.

The chewing gum gelato was a result of a communication barrier in Nice and when actually wanting vanilla with jelly beans. I would have never picked chewing gum and it turned out to be a surprising treat. I felt an obligation to try the avocado as I had never seen it before but love it in the non-ice cream form. It really didn't really sound that appealing, nor was the taste of it. Speculos is something we don't have in the US, when really it's so fantastic it should be our largest imported product from Europe. I'm bringing home as many jars of the Belgian gingerbread spread as I can fit in my bags. (I mailed a jar to my brother earlier this summer because it's just that good and he too has placed an order for me to bring him back Speculos.) Be it in the form of a spread, cookies or ice cream, Speculos is definitely vying for the top of my list.

But one night it happened. It started out as a night bike like any other....me followed by 23 tourists on bikes dominating the streets of the Latin Quarter en route to Ile St Louis (tiny island in Paris next to Île de la Cite which is the island Notre Dame stands on). Île Saint-Louis has been home to Berthillon ice cream since it started there in 1960s. It's made fresh every morning, no preservatives, nothing artificial and it's shipped no where in the world. It's only available on these two tiny island sandwiched between the left and right banks of Paris. The flavors are always different so you must approach the ice cream counter with an open mind and a burning in your belly that can only be quelched with two frozen scoops of Bertillion. As the guide I cut to the front of the line where my girl Margot scoops me up a treat and then I head back to the bridge between the two islands to watch my group's bikes. Often times I tell Margot to pick, which she does a sublime job of doing. But on this night, I saw on the flavor board "caramel avec gingrebred." I wasn't exactly sure what to expect but since those are two of my favorite flavors I knew I was in for something good. The ice cream ended up being caramel flavored with pieces of freshly baked gingerbread mixed in it. It was as if someone baked fresh gingerbread then cut it into tiny pieces to be intermingled with the cararmel ice cream. Somehow the bread maintained its soft bounce and delicate moisture. The only thing I can think of is that it was truly an ice cream miracle. And so it came to be on that fateful nightbike tour that caramel with gingerbread ice cream came to be my answer to one of the greatest questions on earth. It became my favorite ice cream.

Realizing that I was unlikely to ever see that flavor of ice cream again anywhere in the world I contemplated again this great mystery of my favorite. I went back to the wise poser of the question and told him that with great bravery and valor I completed my journey this summer to discover my favorite flavor. Only I'm back where I started: vanilla is wonderful and so are many, many other flavors. I asked if it was okay if I didn't have a favorite? Parents aren't suppose to choose favorites among their children, right? So I cast myself as "mother ice cream" and choose not to have a favorite.

I heart tourists.

2010-09-20T14:54:00.000-07:00

Some people are bird watchers. Me, I am a tourist watcher. And I'm no amateur. After this summer I'm full-fledged professional. Of course, I was also thinking earlier this summer that since I get paid to ride a bike that I'm a professional athlete but that logic is likely a bit skewed. Birds are beautiful and graceful. Tourists are annoying and oblivious.

I've always been a people-person. Still am. But after this summer I'm completely jaded against tourists. Especially the American species of tourists. It may sound harsh, but if you spent every day navigating the streets, sidewalks and bike lanes of Paris weaving between tourists and herding 25 people behind you, you too would feel the same way. Bike lanes are painted to be obvious. Two small lanes with a picture of a person on a bicycle every 15 feet or so painted on the lane. The person on the bike picture even indicates which way the bike lane goes to remove any complication for our friends from Commonwealth countries that may forget to ride on the right. Only I spend much of every day yelling at people walking in the bike lane and pointing to the pictogram. "Bike lane, no pietons! Velo Velo! Watch out! Move.You're walking in a bike lane!" I probably say it in my sleep now. I can definitely say it in several languages. And my favorite is the people who not only walk in the bike lane, but come to a stop in the lane perhaps to look at a map or pick their wedgie that rides high under their fanny pack. Whatever the reason, it makes me nuts. The people who I yell at actually have the nerve to yell back or muster up a dirty look and flash it my way. I'm really yelling for their safety! I'm the one on the bike - I could clearly mow them over and have my flock of 25 sheep behind me do the same thing. There was a girl walking in a well-marked narrow bike lane near Place de la Concorde, literally right next to a foot path. She had her iPod in and was choosing whether to play Beyonce or Brittany so she didn't hear me yelling. I didn't have much room and I literally hit her with my handle bar. Not on purpose, I'm not that hateful. But she left me no choice. I won't comment on the record if it felt just a little bit satisfying to ram her.

The American species is the easiest to spot. Men with their khaki shorts, white tube socks, white tennies and baseball cap make them an easy mark. I've seen people walk around with cameras so large around their necks they can probably see into the future with their giant lenses. I wonder if they really know how to frame a shot or extend a shutter speed to accommodate the darkness of night. No one can fill up the width of a broad sidewalk like a group of American tourists. We tend to spread out so much that three people can fill an entire 12 foot path. We meander completely obvious to two-way foot traffic, and give a startled little jump, sometimes even a yelp, when 25 bikers or 8 Segway riders come zooming past. It's the stopping with no warning that is the ultimate bane of my existence. Common sense says if you want to stop, move to the side. It's like being a tourist completely sucks the sagacity out of people. I can be guilty of it too; I am by no means a perfect tourist.

The loudness with which Americans tend to talk is also a big clue, especially in restaurants. Ordering food is a sign of origin, because in France no one is interested in holding the butter, putting the dressing on the side or making your latte with soy milk. It's not that the French are rude and want to be unaccommodating; it's just not the culture of the French to come into a restaurant and go all "When Harry Met Sally" on the servers.

On tour I get asked a lot of questions. I warn my groups I'll try my best to answer their questions and if I don't know I'll just make something up! The best questions are the ones that are really, really stupid. Yes, Notre Dame is open on Sundays as it is a church after all. No, Napoleon was not in the Italian Army. No, the Texas flag is not the Confederate Dixie flag. No, we do not have adult training wheels for our bikes and if you're asking that you should not come out on tour. Yes, I do live here...what do you think I commute here from the US every day? No, I do not speak French. Yes, I still do manage to survive in Paris. The one question I absolutely love and am asked at least once a day is if I just graduated from college. It helps me live in denial about the wiry gray hairs I see in the mornings as I pull my hair into a pony tail.

Little kids tend to want to ride up front with me. And even though their bikes have bells that they incessantly ring I enjoy having them up front. I generally ride up front alone and the kids keep up with me and pepper me with questions the entire tour. They absolutely crack me up. I had an adorable nine-year-old boy that was super smart and a great rider. The ENTIRE tour he would say, "Miss Stefani, can I ask you a question?" And then out would come the most hilarious question about Napoleon or French hot dogs. My favorite question he asked was, "you said that over 500 people have fallen to their death off the Eiffel Tower. Out of those 500 people, what percent do you think jumped, what percent got pushed and what percent accidentally fell over?" I said, "Well little man, I'm afraid that they all chose to jump." To which he simply replied with innocent wonderment, "wow." I hope I didn't give him nightmares.

I poke fun at tourists and I stand by my reasons but have not turned into a misanthrope. Truthfully, I'm just glad to see Americans traveling. According to the US State Department, only 22% of Americans even have a passport! It's shameful. So when my rubber bicycle tire meets the road, I applaud them for coming to Paris. For some people coming on a bike tour is a big stretch. For many it's been years since they were last on a bike, and riding down St. Germain Blvd. into the heart of Latin Quarter with taxis and buses honking and weaving through our lane is intimidating to some riders. I applaud those who push themselves beyond the comfort zone of familiarity. So for saving their pennies, getting out off their sofas and crossing the pond to Europe I think tourists really are a good thing. Everyone should be a tourist...just watch out for the bike lane.

The Real Reason French Woment Do Not Get Fat

2010-09-11T09:26:00.000-07:00

There is a book called "French Women Don't Get Fat: The Secret of Eating for Pleasure." The premise is that French women do all things in moderation, have one glass of wine with dinner and a tiny self-controlled square of dark chocolate for dessert. That because French women walk everywhere they have no need for designated exercise time - high activity levels are a way of life. And voilà, they are thin.

This is as wrong as my French pronunciations. This is a bunch of bologna, or perhaps here in Paris it's some sort of processed duck deli meat. You get the idea.

After a summer in Paris I know the real story on this phenomenon. French women do not get fat because French women simply do not eat. It's true. They drink espressos and chain smoke cigarettes. It's the culture at Paris' ubiquitous cafe scene. According to the French sommelier who taught a wine class I took, French women don't drink wine. At all. He says it's a contributing factor to why French women are so boring (his words, not mine!)

I started paying attention to what French women order in bakeries. Baguettes. And I'm sure they're devoured by their families, not themsleves. I very rarely see a French woman order a pastry. I'm convinced that pastries are actually baked for tourists, not locals. Perhaps they're all baked for especially for me.

So, there it is. Caffeine, nicotine and starving are the weight-loss secrets of the French. And I'm so not French. But I have definitely mastered the secret of eating for pleasure - the secret is a little Jewish bakery in the Marais called Korcarz Bakery. It's where my girlfriends and I discovered the most delicious almond croissants we've ever tasted. They're filled with almond cream, sprinkled with sliced almonds and baked again, until the cream has set and the elbows of the croissant are crisp.We are convinced they get fried at some point in the process - they're just so good they have to have been fried. They're very funnel cake-esque. The Texas State Fair has nothing on these babies. The bakery also whips up chocolate fondant and cheesecake that are so incredible they make me stay in Paris forever.

The Greatest Generation

2010-08-19T03:31:00.000-07:00

Before: I'm on the train to Normandy en route to a D-Day tour. My interest in WWII lies in its connection to my grandfather, Lt Col TJ "Curly" Williams. My grandfather (TJ Papa) was a B-25 bomber pilot in the south pacific. Though he didn't fight in Europe this was a war he strongly believed in, for which he willingly risked his life.

In 1943, my TJ Papa was a tank commander preparing to ship out to north Africa. A posting in the officers' club advertised that the army air corp had been formed and was looking for pilots. He and a friend thought the food would be better in an airplane than in a tank, so they joined up. In early 1944, he graduated from training and was sent to the Pacific theater, flying missions against the Japanese. He not only dropped bombs, but also leaflets warning of an impending terrible weapon attack ahead of both Nagasaki and Herishima. The entire tank battalion he was part of before entering the Air Corps was wiped out in northern Africa. Had he not become a pilot, I wouldn't be writing this.

My generation has it so easy. There is no fear of being drafted - the brave men and women in the armed forces today made a choice to join. No digging trenches and living in fox holes through freezing winters across Europe. I'm afraid the appeal of a day trip to learn about the Normandy Invasion will be lost on the next generation who grew up with wars only in the Middle East, with no appreciation of what their great-grandfathers did in the world wars. Most people don't even know the names of all their great-grandparents. I'm guilty, are you?

So, I write this all before walking Omaha beach and standing in the American Cemetery. I'm not sure how the experience today will connect with me, but I hope that it does.

After: Powerful day in Normandy. It was rainy much of the day which made the experience more authentic. We started at Pointe du Hoc which is where the Army Rangers came ashore for a cliff-side assault. From there we moved along Omaha Beach, where on June 6, 1944 approximately 5,500 Allied troops died during the invasion. The American Cemetery overlooks Omaha Beach where the remains of 9,383 servicemen and four women are marked with white gravestones. The D-Day museum is very well done and highlights soldiers' personal lives who died during the war in France.

Omaha Beach

I was affected by one photo that was taken of about 25 American servicemen in a boat prior to departing from England toward Normandy. The men have giant smiles on their faces, many of them holding packs of Lucky Strikes. I wasn't there, so this is all my interpretation and could be totally wrong. But the men looked genuinely happy - excited for the chance to go kick some Nazi butt. Things changed as they waded through the 54 degree water under a heavy barrage inflicted by the Nazis. Little went as planned that day and thousands of young men like the ones in the photo were slaughtered. It was haunting. It really made me appreciate the sacrifices of over 400,000 Americans who died during WWII.

It is with good reason they are called the Greatest Generation.

Starbucks in any language

2010-08-08T04:43:00.001-07:00

I caved. I'm sipping a skinny vanilla latte at Starbucks as I write this. I had expected to give a tour this morning but fortunately it's drizzly and muggy out so I didn't have to go. (not that I mind giving tours - but I have guaranteed afternoon and night tours so I get to work 10 hour day instead of 14. And for that I'm grateful.)

I had a hunch I may not go out this morning when I looked out my window at the gloomy sky so brought my book with me. I've joined the craze and am reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I was craving something familair so decided to spend the morning reading and sipping at Starbucks.

It wasn't just the familiarity of Starbucks that appealed to me, it was the service. I came in and ordered my drink exactly as I pleased. My heart's desire. And it was prepared with a smile! I've been so underwhelmed by the service in France, especially of late. So the chance to order skim milk and Splenda is a satisfying change from the ordinary.

At restaurants I've noticed that tourists are often served differently from locals. For me, courses are often brought together - rather than salad first - unless you specify otherwise. But for locals the default is separate courses. I wish I had some "I'm local" badge so that I could earn the right to slowly linger over my meal. But my broken French when ordering gives me away every time.

Once you have your food you will likely not see the waiter again until you flag him down and ask for the check. No "how is everything?" or "can I get you a refill?" As an American I have come to expect great service. Shamefully I feel even entitled to it. Over here waiting tables is truly a profession - not something one does to put themself though college. Service (tips) is included in l'addition (bill) and the waiters are salaried or a given a high hourly wage so there is no motivation for good service.

In countries like Spain and Italy I found that servers enjoy tourists giving ordering a go in the local language. They often help you along, all with a smile. In France, not so. Trying to order in French generally is answered with an annoyed waiter responding in English - not at all interested in indulging tourist attempts at language mastery.

Another difference in service was highlighted during my day on the Côtes-du-rhône wine trail in the Provence region. Having spent days wine tasting in northern California, Australia and South Africa I had a presupposition of what the winery visit should entail. The domain visits here are a bit shocking to the American "I expect great service" system. No one suggests a tasting order, no one tells you anything about the wine. You are simply greeted by a grumpy French woman who expects you just to point to a list. They have no interest in answering questions and you definitely can't buy a glass of your favoirte to enjoy on a patio overlooking the vineyards. The only exception to this was at Domaine de Mourchon - where we met the friendly British owner (who made his millions living in Houston in the 80s). He told us all about the winery's history, the wines and his upcoming event at a steak house in Dallas. His wines were wonderful and will be popping up on a menu near you!

I've come to expect poor service in France. And on the ocassion where I get great service I'm very appreciative. I notice it, rather than expect it. It's the same in the broader since of my life. I pour my venti-sized expectations into an espresso-sized cup and am surprised when it makes a mess. This summer I have been trying to notice the wonderful things and people that surround me and experiences I'm given, rather than just expect them. Appreciation requires effort. So today I am savoring the sun that's now shining and the smile that comes with my cup of coffee.

*I realize this is filled with generalizations, and I'm okay with that.
** I also realize 'servers' is a more proper term than 'waiters' but just don't feel it appropriate in the French waiter context.

Annecy

2010-08-08T00:29:00.001-07:00

Make a mental list of all the cities you know of in Spain or Italy or Germany. Several, right? Now think about France. My guess is Paris came first to mind and then the list quickly tapers. Unlike most countries in Europe with several large cities, France is built around the single City of Light. Up until recent years the rail system here even reflected this; Paris was the single hub of the wheel and to get to another part of the country you had to first travel to Paris.

Prior to this summer I had been to Paris a few times, but not explored the rest of the country. My goal for the summer was to focus on seeing a much of France as I can - especially towns I had never even heard of up until now. I asked people well-traveled in France what their favorite town is and was told "Annecy" several times. Having never even heard of the place I decided it must be worth exploring.

Delightful Annecy is in the Haute-Savoie region in southeast France near the Swiss border. Colorful flower box lined canals meander through the heart of the old town. The jewel though, is Lac Annecy (Lake Annecy). Situated in the foothills of the Alps, this topaz gem is 40 kilometers around and outlined with charming homes and castles.We went on a relaxing boat ride and the houses and private castles were just jaw-dropping!

On our second day in Annecy we rented bikes and rode the circumference of the lake. Most of the 26 miles is fairly flat, but there is one stretch of hills that made me want to throw my bike in the lake. The jaw dropping vistas distracted me during the three-hour ride. After spending so much time in wondrous places this year a move back to the scenery of Dallas would be a tough adjustment. (no offense Dallas I love you, but you're no village in the French Alps)

There was a musical festival taking place while in Annecy. It was very bizarre. It was mostly brass and percussion and the bands traveled around the streets. So it had some elements of a chaotic multi-directional parade. There was one group that were dueling drummers and used hand puppets. I cannot resist a musical sock puppet!

The rest of our time was spent sipping coffee and wine, napping in a park and of course eating ice cream. There is a place that has 55 unique flavors - and I thought I had already explored the outer boundaries of ice cream! I had reglisse, which is licorice flavored. It flavor was not over-powering, it was fantastic!

The trip was a great respite from the noise and busyness of Paris. And did I mention the hotel had air conditioning? For three sweatless nights it felt like I was living in the castle!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

For Paris is a moveable feast - Ernest Hemmingway

2010-07-09T06:22:00.000-07:00

Nearly every day someone asks me why I love Paris, why I chose Paris to spend the summer. My simple answer is that it is my favorite city in the world.

I first came to Paris when I was 12-years-old on a family vacation. That's when I fell in love with the city. While I remember I was disappointed when I realized that cars don't drive on the opposite side of the street in Paris, everything else amazed me - even the unrefrigerated milk! I have vivid memories from that trip. One in particular is going on the Ferris wheel that left me filled with wonderment looking over Paris rooftops in all directions. Monet's gardens, Normandy, Versailles...it all stuck with me. While visiting Paris twice since college I found myself drawn to the pace of the city. Somehow, Parisians manage to be high-strung and laid-back all at the same time. Life moves fast here, yet there is always time to enjoy an espresso at the neighborhood brasserie.

There is an endless profusion of how to spend time in Paris. I'll spend over three months here this trip and still not see it all, though I'm giving it my best shot. My life here is finally in a groove and on my days off work I now have the energy to enjoy this vibrant city and the French countryside.

I went back to Monet's gardens in Giverny about an hour outside of Paris. Though it was an oppressively hot day, the canvases of Monet's water lilies came alive as we walked through the gardens he loved to paint.

King Louis XIV's lived in the Louvre Palace before he moved out to Versailles. I attended a wine tasting in his private cellar underneath the Louvre that was really interesting. When asked what we want to gain from the class my response was how to pick out tasty but inexpensive wine - I'm on a tour guide budget these days so 4 euros bottle is about all I'll spring for...and luckily in France you can get great wine for that price. I'll pass along a tidbit I learned, do not buy cheap Bordeaux.

I'm a professional picnicer these days. Not only are the surroundings beautiful, spending time en plein air means I spent less from mon wallet. There are so many wonderful places in Paris to have picnics and relax and read and people-watch. Picnicing is a way of life for Parisians. If you haven't been on a picnic - do it. Go get a baguette from your neighborhood store, some different cheeses, lunch meat, grapes, carrots, hummus and of course wine and go on a picnic. Slow the pace of your life, if even just for an evening and spend time en plein air.

Ernest Hemingway wrote "if you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast." I feel very lucky, and know the experiences I'm having this summer will stay with me.

nothing smooth about this segue, err I mean Segway

2010-06-16T11:40:00.000-07:00

Chaos. Circus. Cluster. Take your pick. All perfect descriptors for giving a Segway tour to 29 Israeli men who want to hear nothing about history but instead perform Segway stunts.

Today two other guides and I took a group of Israelis who are visiting Paris as an incentive trip from their company on a Segway tour. There was supposed to be four guides, but one of my fellow rookie guides fell off his Segway this morning and broke his nose. (Poor guy). It was like herding cats. A few minutes in they told us they didn't want to hear any history and just want to ride. Pandemonium. I feel like I should get some sort of sexual harassment bonus for putting up, "Oh Stefani, your eyes are so blue." Or, singing "Stefani, Stefani, eyes like an ocean." They would not listen to a thing we said and I finally decided that I would just sit back, watch them crash and laugh at them. And oh they wrecked. We even had one manage to lose his Segway key in the Seine and has to pay 200 euros for it!

The worst part was that their company hired a three-person camera crew to film their entire trip. They kept wanting to stage these elaborate theatrical pass-bys. I was trying to hurry them along and was beginning to annoy myself as I repeated things like - keep moving, watch your wheels, let's roll forward, blah blah.blah. One of the crew snapped at me and said, "Darling, we heard you and you need not repeat yourself." I'll leave my retort out to prevent sounding like a meanie. We miraculously all made it back alive and could do nothing but laugh at the craziness we endured.

After work I went to our designated Fat Tire crepe stand. Though not on the menu, our crew always order what's called a 'change your life crepe'. And I assure you, it does change your life. It's chicken curry, cheese, loads of veggies, hot sauce and optional egg. May sound odd, but I assure you it's delicious. My other absolute favorite gooey deliciousness is the Nutella-banana crepe. It's all in the name and needs no more explanation. No matter how crazy a day, how full or empty the tip jar, ending a day with a crepe makes it a good one.

View of Paris at dusk I took on one of my tours, sky was so vivid I had to bust out my own camera!

somtimes a bicycle is just a bicycle

2010-06-14T02:57:00.000-07:00

I used to dream of being a bicycle tour guide. Now, I literally dream about being a bicycle tour guide. Almost every night I have a dream about giving a tour, though some are more like nightmares. It turns out that this is a common Fat Tire phenomenon that afflicts most of the guides. I need not any Freudian interpretation of my unconscious mind and I'm pretty sure the bicycles in my dreams actually do represent bicycles.

I'm getting in the groove of giving tours. Though the information on the stops flows from me like wine from a barrel, not much else is the same on every tour. Segway tours are fun because the groups are much smaller (like 8 Segway riders compared to 22 bikers) so you get to know the people on the tour and the group size is easier to manage. Only there is one major obstacle in Segway tours - poles. And by obstacle I don't mean some figurative hindrance that must be overcome with sheer determination. I literally mean obstacle, because someone rides straight into a pole on nearly every tour. During the training at the beginning of the tour I drone on about looking out for poles and poodles yet somehow, people run straight into them. I had a lady this week ride directly into a light-post then her Segway rolled into the street, leaving me dashing out to save it from a passing Smart car. Most crashes result in a bruised ego more than anything else, thanks to the invention of the helmet. Never a dull moment.

Bicycles riders are slightly less accident-prone, but these tours offer their own set of unique challenges. I can now very swiftly flip a bike over like a pro. Once I have my tools-in-hand and am adjusting nuts and bolts (just learned which is which this week) nothing about me seems like a pro. I've made several fixes on my tours but thankfully have not had a flat tire yet. (please take a moment to say a quick prayer right now that no one gets a flat tire on my tours). It's inevitable - it will happen, and it won't be pretty. And sometimes when you don't know how to fix something breaking it entirely is the only thing to do - like I did with the tire fender in this photo.

I had an extra-large group on a bike tour last week - 25 people that were all traveling together. Seriously, imagine trying to lead 25 people on quick turns through neighborhoods or crowded bus/bike lanes with stoplights every 50 meters. I lost two people on my tour. Yes, you read that right. I lost two people on my tour and never saw them again. It was between the shop and our first stop. I searched for them, my manager rode his bike all over searching for them. I felt terrible, nearly frantic. Only, it turns out they decided the streets are too scary and turned back without telling anyone and dropped their bikes at Fat Tire and hung out in the park until the tour returned. I have now added a bit to my pre-tour speech that says if you want to turn back, please let someone know!

I am still exhausted on most days. My one day off was yesterday and instead of exploring Paris I stayed home most of the day. Even when I was in college I wasn't getting home this consistently at 2am! After work a couple nights ago a group of us hung out on the Peace Monument, which is at the end of the Champs de Mars (the park at the base of the Eiffel Tower). The tower sparkles the first five minutes of the hour from 10pm - 1am, and at the 1am sparkle the orange back-lights are turned off and the tower just sparkles. I see it sparkle nearly every night but I try to take a moment and appreciate it, and being here to see this great monument glitter in the sky.

It's been a hard day's night (bike), and I've been working like a dog!

2010-06-06T11:10:00.000-07:00

Last night after work I went with some other guides to the roof of the 59 story Montparnasse Tower- the tallest skyscraper in Paris. We brought wine and salty goodies and watched the sunset behind the Eiffel Tower, which doesn't happen until after 10pm in the summer months. The view of Paris from Montparnasse is arguably the best because you can see over the entire city, including the Eiffel Tower. It's never crowded and picnic-friendly. There happen to be several firework shows in Paris last night so we stayed until after midnight and watched the skies light up with colorful confetti. I'm finding life in Paris suits me.

But this week wasn't all sparkles and snackies. I did my first night bike tour. My blood pressure has finally gone back to normal nearly 48 hours later. Who knew leading bike tours could be more stressful than selling software? It was Friday night - and the traffic was absolutely totally and completely nuts. Leading a pack of bikers down major streets may sound simple, but keeping the group safe and together is quite a balancing act. I'm constantly yelling back - stick together...or, dig deep and pedal faster! I told my group that all the buses and cars honking at us had no malicious intent but instead really just saying - welcome to France! And that one special finger they point at us as we block the road, well they're just saying Fat Tire Bike Tours is #1! I knew it was going to be a long five hours when just a few minutes into the ride I had a lady fall off her bike. Completely. Her English was only slightly better than my Mandarin so a language barrier only made things more convoluted.

In addition to having riders who couldn't actually ride, my tour was also plagued with two chains falling off, one tire rubbing that had to be fixed (actually Andrew, a veteran guide, came to my rescue for this mechanical operation) and a woman whose brakes did not work. An hour in to the ride and I was completely covered in grease and sweat. I switched bikes with the woman with the non-functioning brakes - which was complicated by the fact that I was also hauling eight bottles of wine, two heavy bike locks, cords, tools, first aid kit and several other items in two saddle bags on my bike. So going down a ramp with nothing but my toes to break was a wee bit daunting. The boats were off schedule so instead of catching a 10:30 boat we caught an 11pm, which means it was well after midnight before our final ride back to the shop. As I was handling out bikes after the boat ride I told everyone just to wait with their bikes...blah blah...and then we'd get going. The same lady who fell off earlier got on her bike and just started pedaling, in the wrong direction. I mean really, was this happening? I was starting to wonder if she was a mean prank, like I was being hazed on my first night bike. She didn't make it very far, because she let her bungee cord dangle in the bike and get caught in the chain. I was going to just lock up her bike, give her mine and me run the last mile back to the office alongside the tour (that's a standard M.O. when things go wrong at the end of a tour). Luckily, I had two valiant men on my tour that were determined to dislodge the cord and did so successfully. About 12:30am we made it back to Fat Tire. Everyone had a great time, and everyone made it back in one piece so all things considered it was still a success.

I know things will get easier. The day bike and Segway tours are easy for me now. I have four night bikes in a row next week. Tuesday is my first "triple crown" which means I'm giving 3 tours totally 16 hours straight - no break. I'm confident that by next weekend night bike will become routine. This job is very physical. My legs are covered in bruises. And when I say covered, that's no exaggeration. I also have a lovely cut/bruise combination on my shin but it's not a battle scar from a tour. Nope, it's from tripping and falling flat on my face around midnight walking up the escalator at the metro station with a water bottle in one hand and my iPod in the other other. It was one of those 12+ hour work days and my legs rebelled. The bruises are a nice complement to my black mechanic hands. I'm definitely getting both tougher and dirtier with each passing day.

Today is my first day off work since arriving in Paris and I've been completely lazy. Walking from my bedroom to my kitchen is the farthest I've gone...and I'm loving it. I'm going to bed early tonight and will be geared up tomorrow for more adventures on my tours....and praying for no flat tires.

Conquering the streets of Paris on my bike

2010-06-03T00:46:00.000-07:00

Some people are living a dream. I'm living a song. By Queen. And it goes like this...

Bicycle bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle bicycle bicycle

I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like

Life has been absolutely crazy and exhausting since arriving to Paris just over a week ago. I think about what I knew about the city then, and that in just a few hours I'm giving my first solo tour to some unsuspecting tourists and it seems like I've been here for ages. Fat Tire gets us street-ready by going on 9 training tours and a logistical tour with just the Fat Tire team. Learning the French history of the stops on the tour was the easy part. The complication of this job is found in the details. On bike tours, I have a group of 23 tourists riding mindlessly behind me so I have to not only know the route through busy streets, but learn the timing of stoplights, where bus lanes collide with bike lanes, where we perform Advanced Traffic Maneuvers (ATMs) which are clearly a violation of many traffic laws! For Segway tours we stay mostly on the sidewalks, but have to know where are the ramps, where are the polls, where are the bumps - all things that have people flying off their Segways. Literally. I have already seen some gnarly Segway falls. I *think* I have it all down but will find out in a few hours.

This really may be the coolest job in the world. It pays somewhere just below poverty level, so it's a good thing it is an absolute blast! Most of the people who take Fat Tire tours are a lot of fun to talk to (although I'm giving a Segway tour to a non-English speaking group of Germans tomorrow, eek). An average work week is about 50 hours and a whole lot of miles. On the day tours we stop and eat in a cafe in the colorful Tulleries Garden outside the Lourve. At night we stop and have delicious ice cream and take an hour boat ride down the Seine where we drink wine and watch the Eiffel Tower sparkle. So I get paid to eat ice cream, drink wine, absorb a beautiful city and hear myself talk. Maybe I am living a dream!

I love my flat. It's in the 11th arrondissement which is on the right bank on the east side of town. When anyone asks me where I live and I tell them the 11th they say something like - ohhh, trendy. Except I've been working so much I have no idea where are the trendy stuff is - I do pass a McDonalds right down the street but I don't think that's it. When I haven't been working 16 hour days I've squeezed in some fun. I meandered through a street market and bought fresh fruit, cheese and perfectly baked baguettes (crispy on the outside, soft on the inside). Last week I joined guides at a picnic on the quay (pathway along the river Seine) and drank red wine and ate soft garlicy cheese that made me fall in love with France all over again. Last night eight of us went to a fondue restaurant in Montmarte. I think I have three pounds of cheesy bread stuck in my stomach at this very moment. Then we hiked up to Sacré-Coeur Basilica and sat on the steps soaking up the view over Paris rooftops at night. It was at that moment last night I had a 'wow' moment. I'm so blessed to have this opportunity to spend a few months in Paris making new friends and a wonderful (albeit exhausting) job where I get to share my love of travel and Paris with people every day.

It won't surprise anyone who knows me well that I've been here nine days and have yet to unpack my suitcase. So I'm going to make me a café au lait I made with fresh grounds I picked up yesterday and get to unpacking.

Travelology

2010-04-22T12:55:00.000-07:00

I have been conducting very serious field research as I travel around the world. Through a blend of participant observation, data collection and surveys I have compiled a list of the results. I'm sure the impact of my study will be far-reaching and I just may be the next Jane Goodall.

There is a dead possum every .8km on the side of the highway in New Zealand - this is the highest per capita in the world.

After a stranger takes your photograph and you look at it, 72% of the time you smile, thank them, then hit your camera's delete button.

Increase the odds you like your photo by instead taking a selfie!

Australia is the only country that eats its national symbol.

* this one could possibly true and is courtesy of my new friend Annabel from Oz.

The international price index to pee is about $0.28. At this price, nearly 1% of my total trip cost went to visiting public potties. I miss American - land of the free (pee).

"TIA" is the most widely used acronym on the dark continent - This Is Africa. Its broad application is due to widespread corruption, breakdowns, and Africa just being a general cluster much of the time. (but totally worth it!)

Supporting evidence: the border crossing into Zambia.

Baboons prefer power bars over leaves 3:1 in a taste test.

An on-time train in eastern Europe is 30 minutes late.

There is a 22% chance that the monument/church/building you are most excited to see will be covered in scaffolding.

The most accurate litmus test to determine if the city you're in has been westernized or not is one simple question: is there a Starbucks?

**These statistics are 100% inaccurate and completely fabricated by me. Not that there was any doubt, especially with my stellar math academic record...I can't even count how many times I enrolled and dropped statistics in college!

Scary Trains and a Rented Swimsuit, Welcome to Hungary.

2010-04-15T03:39:00.000-07:00

It's 11:40am on Thursday as I type this. I haven't been to sleep yet. I am having a vanilla latte right now with skim milk which I was very excited about! (skim milk and flavored syrup are a rare find where I've been) I will do my best to write coherent sentences.

Last night I took another scary overnight train ride - this time from Belgrade, Serbia to Budapest. My last scary train ride was from Budapest to Brasov, Romania last week which is when I learned how dangerous night trains are in this part of the world. (I really liked Romania, by the way). Having taken many night trains in western Europe I hadn't thought much of it. My cabin on the midnight train to Romania had three locks - two of which could only be opened from the inside. I was given stern warnings about keeping them all locked because of the bandits and gypsies.

I got in my cabin in grungy Belgrade and to my dismay I only had one door lock. I was told by the cabin steward, " I must say you this. You must lock your door. Put your ladder in front of the door for extra protection. Put your head away from the door by the window so you can see the door. People will try to get in your room while you sleeping. Keep your passport and money on your body. I must say you." I was like, um, what about my lock? Can people still get in? Should I expect someone to come in? Holy crap what am I doing on a night train out of Serbia alone?!?

My weapons and I went undercover. Or rather, under the covers. I laid on my bed with my knife and my LED Defender flashlight in my hands. I made up my fake "throw down wallet" that I'd been advised to have in case I was robbed. I'm historically a quick draw on calling 911 at any perceived danger, so for someone like me this was very unsettling.

From 10:30pm - 2:30am I had a mix of police and border control agents pounding on my door then in my room wondering why I was in Serbia to begin with....um, that makes two of us. At 2:30ish was the last time border control should have been there - and they always pound before they unlock your door. I got back on my bed and thought I really needed to get some sleep as my train arrives Budapest at 5am. The train is very creaky and squeaky...though as I was dozing in and out I heard a clanking noise on my lock at 3:45am. I opened my eyes to see that my door was cracked open and there seemed to be a person trying to peer in - and since no one had knocked so I knew it wasn't someone authorized to be doing that. I leaped out of bed and reached through the ladder rungs and slammed the door shut. It may very well be my fastest reflex reaction time to date, in my entire life. I heard footsteps and then the door at the end of my train car slam. So much for my weapons - they went flying on the floor as threw my blanket off so I'm glad I didn't need them! I was then too terrified to try to sleep so stayed awake until 5am when we reached Budapest.

Now if that wasn't enough excitement for one day...what on earth do you do in Budapest at 5am? Good question. I dropped my bag off at the hotel my cousin and I would be checking into later today and took the metro to a Hungarian thermal bath that opened at 6am. It wasn't until this morning that I realized I sent my swimsuit home. I did the unthinkable. I rented a swimsuit. I'm not sure there are many things in the world grosser than a rented Hungarian swimsuit that's about 5 sizes too big. I also rented a 'towel' that is actually a sheet. The bath facility felt more like an asylum and was a mix of creepy, disgusting and hilarious.

I signed up for a massage at 7am. The asylum workers made me put on the gargantuan one piece swimsuit and took me into my massage room. Before arriving I had visions of the Four Seasons spa in my head, not the Motel 6 spa. I lie down on the table in the bright light. No sheet covering me, no padding, and my Hungarian male masseuse pulls my swimsuit down to around my waist. As he rubbed my back it occurred to me that he may also plan to rub my front. This was all I could think about, then I began to giggle. I'm exhausted, in Hungary in a rented partially-on swimsuit on a table getting a rub down and growing certain that I'm about to get a massage to remember. It turned out I was partly right, I'll leave it at that. After the massage I got in the indoor thermal pools. Dozens of old geezers in speedos, and me. The men either had gigantic bellies, or looked emaciated. Trimming male nipple hair is not in common practice here. One man even wore whitie tighties and a shower cap. I hope that someday the mental images of what I saw this morning fade away.

I'm one hour away from getting into the hotel room - which means a shower and a nap. My cousin gets here from Dallas this afternoon and I'm so so so excited to see her! I'm sure she'll be very disappointed when I tell her what she missed out on this morning.

Portugal - I love it when a no-plan comes together!

2010-04-09T10:23:00.001-07:00

I like fortunate accidents. Most of the time for me, accidents are not so fortunate (and often include me hitting a stationary object with my car). I did not plan to come to Portugal this week; nor did I plan to visit medieval castles, sip on port or take a morning stroll around 11th century fortified walls that encircle a charming tiny town. Being in Portugal has been delightfully accidental.

Lisbon is situated right on the Tagus river and is built of hilly cobblestone streets that wind around colorful facades. Its principle sites are standard European fare: castle, cathedral, monastery, piazzas and sidewalk cafes. Not far from Lisbon lies Sintra which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site on account of its 19th century Romantic architecture.

I didn't buy a proper Portugal travel book but saw one on display in a bookstore. I went in and had a quick glance at Frommer's recommended excursions and decided Obidos sounded like a nice place to visit. The next day I left my big bag at my pension in Lisbon and headed to the train station to buy a ticket. I was informed that the bus was easier, so I took the metro to the north part of the city then walked to the bus station. This sort of traveler confusion doesn't bother me. I'm not in a rush and since I have no rhythm on the dance floor, I'm used to moving off-tempo!

I got off the bus in Obidos and thought wow - these towns are the reason I love western Europe. I ambled down the narrow streets going in the local art shops and sampling port and local cherry liqueur out of edible chocolate cups.

The town reminded me of places in Italy I visited with my mom and our friend Lea. Having gone to Europe with my mom three times, it seemed unnatural she wasnt there with me. My mom collected nativity scenes from our travels and in one of the shops I saw a unique handmade ceramic nativity set and had a fleeting thought that I should get it for my mom. And then I started to cry. The poor shopkeeper wasn't sure what was going on, perhaps he thought I was really moved by his merchandise! I ache for my mom most all the time. Sometimes I go a few hours forgeting she died, and those are a welcomed reprieve. But it's in these unexpected insignificant moments that only she would understand that I miss her the most. I can prepare myself to miss her on holidays or birthdays; I cannot prepare myself for the moments like I had looking at a nativity set in Portugal on a Wednesday afternoon. I've said this is my year of healing after last being a year blanketed with loss. And since I do a terrible job talking about icky things like feelings, I decided I would go off-topic and write about it.

Back to Portugal. I only offer up two criticisms of the country. One: the "smoking kills" message has not made it through Portuguese customs. I would like to expedite the message's visa because smoky cafes are gross. Two: takeaway coffee is hard to find. The to-go concept abounds in the rest of Europe these days but not yet here. And since there are many non-English speaking baristas I learned that my charades impression of getting a cup and then taking it with me needs some work!

I don't hear much about Portugal as a place to visit when I'm in the US....perhaps part of its charm is that it isn't overloaded with American tourists (as an American tourist I can say that!). I could have easily filled up several more days in Portugal so I'll definitely be back.

Tale of my Missing Suitcase...or Rather Backpack

2010-04-05T08:58:00.000-07:00

I always go back and forth on if I believe in luck or not. Oprah says luck is "preparation meets opportunity," and then there's just plain old fashioned chance. I'm currently reading "Fooled by Randomness" by Nassim Taleb so I'm going to keep an open mind for now. What I do know for sure is that my luck (or nonluck if there is no such thing) is like a yoyo. It has been my whole life. I am both the most likely person you know to win the lottery, and most likely to be eaten by a shark. It's either high or low, I don't dabble in the middle.

I hit a snag on my trip. My flight from South Africa to London was canceled because the pilots of British Airways are apparently not being paid enough, or maybe they want more gold shiny buttons on their uniforms. Because of it, I missed my connections on to Italy. I'm not a huge crier and tend to roll with the punches. But this set me off. MELTDOWN. A complete wailing idiot. It started as I dealt with the BA team's complete indifference in JoBerg, and continued the next morning as I described my rolling backpack to the "luggage inquiries" lady at Heathrow. She told me my bag was checked in Zimbabwe on the flight that was canceled (days before it turns out) and there was no record of where my bag was at the moment (they hand-write the tags in Zimbabwe so until it made it to SA it was untrackable). I finally made it through the long terminal change at Heathrow over to where the Italy flights depart. At this point I had been traveling for nearly 30 long hours, was sad to have left my friends in Africa but excited to be meeting someone in Italy, so my tears continued. Two very nice Alitalia agents tried everything in the world to get me to Sicily, but because of the strike it was going to take a couple of days. I thanked them for their hour-long effort and moped off in search of a coffee. I was now in London with no plan, no bag, wearing shorts and flipflops and it was cold and rainy outside.

I regrouped, booked a hotel online from the BA lounge and took the tube into London. I bought a couple light sweaters on clearance at the Gap and even had dinner at Loco Mexicano right by hotel (margaritas were delicious, the fajitas need some work). I had complete faith that my bag would soon show up and I could depart London for somewhere warmer. The next day I tried to extend my hotel a second night when it was evident my bag's arrival wasn't imminent. It was full. I figured it would eventually be delivered to that hotel so needed to stay somewhere within reasonable walking distance.

I walked to a few nearby hotels - all full. I was near Belgrave Road, a street lined with B&Bs, that I had stayed on twice during previous trips. I went door to door - occupied. No room in the inn; I have a new appreciation for what Mary and Joseph endured. I went into one and there was a nice Indian man working who told me they too were full. I must have had a defeated expression, because he then said, "well, we have one non-regular room." I'll take it. He assured me I should see it first so I followed him through the hall, down the stairs leading to the basement and into the laundry room. There was a door with nothing but an emergency exit arrow on it that he opened and sure enough, inside there was a bed. A large closet had been re-purposed and the nearest bathroom was on a whole different floor. Too tired to haggle, I paid way too much for my closet just happy to have a pillow I could rest my head on for the night.

London is a great city, so I decided take advantage of being there. The only major tourist site I hadn't yet been to in London that I could think of was the Tate Britain museum. I spent about 15 minutes wandering around it (national museums in London are free) and thought - I really don't like contemporary/modern museum art. My favorite part of the museum was the loo - I lingered under the warm hand dryer as long as I could without appearing homeless. So I left and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering aimlessly around London popping into shops and cafes. Somehow in my warped brain, walking around the cold wet streets in flip flops was a personal triumph over British Airways...I'll show you who's tougher you strikers! Why buy new airline reimbursable shoes when you can make such a strong statement to those who strike?

I finally retrieved my backpack around 10pm on the second night. Even though I had updated/confirmed/reconfirmed my new hotel info, it was of course still delivered to my previous hotel. I checked the weather for a few cities in Europe I had not yet visited; Lisbon looked to be sunny and nice so I booked a flight for the following morning. My backpack and I set out for our next adventure, reunited at last.

2010-04-01T09:03:00.000-07:00

I'm officially an Overlander. We bounced along 5400 kilometers through southern Africa. The beginning of the trip was like a bad boyfriend. You want to leave him, but then he goes and does something wonderful so you stick around. The first few days were so hot, long and the most exciting activity was putting up our tents, that I wanted to break up with it. Then I saw an African sunset and decided this was a three week relationship that I wanted to in...and what an incredible and fun life experience I got in return.

There is something about Africa. Photos do no justice and experiences do not translate into words. It's really more of a feeling you get. You get it when you're watching the sunrise over giant sand dunes, or while watching mommy and baby elephants frolic in a river. It hits you when you look into the night sky and the stars look so close that you can reach out and grab a handful. Or free-falling backwards in a gorge above the Zambezi river. You feel it when you're playing soccer against local village boys who are so excited to be kicking a real ball. Most of all, you get the feeling while looking into the eyes of the African people - eyes that tell a thousand stories of a life that I could never even begin to imagine.

In an effort to keep this blog a reasonable length let me summarize: I'm sick of bugs. Flies buzzing in my ears makes me bonkers. A jackal pawing at my tent makes me scream and jump. I pretty much had "pissy ankles" for three weeks and the bottom of my feet may be permanently dirty. I can put up a tent but still prefer someone else to do the hard/dirty part like roll it up and put it in the bag (thank you tentmate Annabel). I had an absolute blast playing underwater Chinese freeze tag in a pool with my fellow Overlanders. Butternut is my new favorite vegetable. Botswana was voted "least corrupt African country" by its peers but I'm not sure I agree; the border
crossing between Botswana and Zambia ranks high in the most bizarre events I've ever experienced. Flipflops are not for rock climbing. Victoria Falls - amazing. Sleeping in an open-air treehouse along a river full of hippos is incredible. Lions are mysterious. Guinea Fowl are stupid. All the animals are fun to watch in their natural habitats. Sunsets in Africa overwhelm me with their magnificence.

One of my favorite experiences was in the largest inland delta in the world - in the Okavango river in Botswana. We went for a sunset ride in a makoro (that's me in the canoe) through the marsh - the pictures say it all. The African Painted Reed Frog we spotted was my favorite animal sighting of the trip!

Am I officially old if I talk about weather? It's just that I'd like to note that whoever says "dry heat" isn't so bad has never gone on a two hour walk through the Namib desert in 112f (45c) heat. The heat doesn't get much dryer than in the middle of sand dune, and there wasn't one piece of clothing on my body dry - I was drenched in sweat.

Vaccinations are really expensive, so I put mine to work. I ate loads of travel-expert forbidden fruits and veg; I'd even eat them unwashed from stands on the roadside. I'm a man(go)niac. Of course eating like this combined with strange meat is not without side effects. But that's okay because a trip like this brings people close together, quickly. I have never discussed "faxing" so publicly in my life. Sometimes it's an urgent fax, other times the fax machine is jammed. Perhaps it's out of paper, or worse you can only send one of three pages. These are the discussions that fused the lifelong intestinal bonds with my new Overland friends.

I was sitting on the dirty floor of the 'airport' in Zimbabwe waiting for my flight to JoBurg and this wave of sadness came over me. The same thing happened when I left Kenya nearly three years ago. Africa is like no place on earth. I want to go back before I even leave.

click here to see my overland adventure photo album

Overland Trip Report - Namibia

2010-03-12T02:27:00.000-08:00

I survived my first week on Christie - she's our 23-year-old truck that took us through South Africa in Namibia, and then will onto Botswana and Zambia. I'm on an overland trip, which means I'm traveling a far distance in a bumpy, luxury-free truck that can take us places a normal car or bus allow us to go. Like through the middle of a desert. I'm traveling with 13 others plus three guides. The group is heavily weighted female and I really really like some of the girls and am excited to have new friends spread around the world to visit. I'm the only American - no surprise there. (come on Americans, we've got to get traveling more!). I'm called Lone Star, and with being the only American comes the added bonus of being the butt of many jokes! Two of our guides are English and the third is Dougie, our Zimbabwean cook who whips up very delicious dinners each night.

Trip Route:

Click here for Trip Itinerary

It's amazing how adaptive we are as humans. The first few days were miserable: it was 113 degrees out and we were averaging about 8 hours a day in the truck. But somehow you adjust to being hot and bouncing around and between my ipod, cold water and a lot of bumpy Uno games the hours pass in good fun. I now know how to pitch a tent and am used to ridiculously large bugs. Have you ever gotten that email forward that says how people eat like 12 spiders each year? I've decided that most people don't eat any spiders in normal life, and us overlanders are bringing up the average because I can't even begin to tell you how many bugs I've fished out of my tea or off my plate. Your cleanliness standards dip quite low on a trip like this. And getting out of my tent at night and taking two steps for a wee (as most call it) actually becomes pretty darn convenient! Except on windy nights, and then you end up with what Claire calls in her Irish accent "pissy ankles." And those are no fun.

We camped in a citrus orchard the first night and since then have mainly been in the Namib desert. We watched the sunset over the beautiful Fish River Canyon (think Grand), climbed a huge sand dune to watch the sunrise and went on a desert bush walk where we saw "the little 5." It was fascinating to see how life survives in the desert, and equally fascinating watching my own ankles swell up because unlike the dung beetle, they are not suited for desert life.

sand dunes as far as the eye can see

A group of us spent today in the local township learning about their culture and eating a traditional meal. Which means we handled dried hyena anus used for a healing tea and were served caterpillar. The townships were set up as part of Apartheid in the 1960s when the black and coloureds (not a derogatory term in Africa and means something different from 'black') were moved out of the neighborhoods from the whites and given separate housing outside of town. My pockets were stuffed with balloons and candy and the kids just go crazy for it; watching their faces light up is one of the most fun activities of all.

Most of the time our itinerary says the name of a place we are staying, like right now we are in Swakopmand Namibia. A couple of nights ago, however, it just said "middle of nowhere" for where we'd be camping. I thought we had been in the middle of nowhere for days already, but no, it turns out that we literally did stay in the middle of nowhere. Any time someone has to "dig the dunny" it's a bit disturbing. It ended up being one of our most fun nights as we all sat around the campfire roasting marshmallows and playing games. Humor transcends our international crowd.

The most dangerous thing about this trip isn't the rabid wildlife or the threat of cholera. Instead, it's the ideas put in my head by listening to my fellow travelers. I now think it would be a real shame to resettle in the US without first bumming around southeast Asia on a shoestring for a couple months this fall.

From here we do more bush camping and then two days in Etosha National Park where we'll be enjoying game drives. We have a few more adventures before ending with 3 days in Victoria Falls where I will then fly out of Zimbabwe to Italy. I started off worried that I wouldn't survive three weeks overlanding, but now can tell that these weeks will be a blast, make me a bit tougher and create memories that will last a lifetime.

Cape Town Capers

2010-03-12T01:55:00.000-08:00

Cape Town is a great city, although it felt more like a big European city than an African one. It's a beautiful city built in a bowl surrounded by Table Mountain. The waterfront area reminded me of being at San Francisco's Fisherman's Wharf. There is a lot of activity in preparation for the World Cup which starts in less than 100 days. It's like in those Flip This House episodes where the open house is in 5 hours and you think there's no way the house will be ready - same for the stadium, streets, parking and transportation. I cannot see how it possible that it's all ready come June, but hopefully it will be ready.

I was very ignorant of Apartheid prior to going to CT, and what I learned was just appalling. I went to Robbin Island where Nelson Mandela was held in prison and his life there was shocking. I also went to some of the large Townships and I was very impressed with what the government is doing to move people from very sub-standard living to permanent homes. By 2014, there should be no shacks or shanties left in Cape Town. But even then, the scars from Apartheid won't be healed.

I spent a day visiting the South African winelands which were absolutely beautiful! The wine was smooth and incredibly inexpensive. A NICE bottle of wine could easily be bought for $3. It's too bad I couldn't mail any home.

I had some worries about my safety being in CT alone, although it turns out I was worried about the wrong kind of carjacker. I was driving down to Cape of Good Hope when the car in front of me paused to snap a pic of a baboon walking along a cliff. Seeing a good photo opp I put my foot on the brake too, only to have the baboon open my back passenger car door and let himself in. He promptly climbed into my front seat and began ransacking my backpack. I was terrified; in trying to get out of the car i forgot I still had my seatbelt on and car in drive and nearly rear-ended the SUV in front of me. There were signs everywhere indicating how dangerous the baboons are, and now here I was outside my car surrounded by baboons, and had a giant one inside my car destroying my things and eating my powerbars. I finally got him outside my car, only he took my backpack with him. It took about 20 minutes to recover my backpack and most of my things, and hours before my frayed nerves were calmed. It was a horrible experience and the signs should be changed to warn that baboons open car doors.

Here's the baboon contemplating a joyride in my rental car!

I definitely plan to return to Cape Town on a future trip to Africa!

Cape of Good Hope

I visited one of two natural mainland penguin colonies in the world and the penguins were so much fun to watch!

FOOD, definitely not a four-letter word

2010-02-24T15:21:00.000-08:00

I love food. It's not uncommon for me to finish a meal, and then find myself thinking about what I'll eat for my next meal. Hunger is over-rated. I stumbled upon a street market the other day but had just eaten. There was no room in the inn for any of the delicious-smelling Turkish breads filled with spinach and melty cheese. I actually found myself thinking I wish I could speed up digestion so I could be hungry.

As part of my female anatomy shouldn't I want my appetite suppressed, not expressed?

If it's not obvious already, if you're male and reading this it's either going to a) bore you or b) scare you.

Back home in Texas I've got all the usual female food issues. I obsess about calories, can easily rationalize an upward tic on the scale and will go as long as possible without washing my jeans because there is nothing fun about denim just out of the dryer. Every year I ask Santa to put willpower in my stocking, but instead he generally fills it with chocolate and candy. I was thinking recently that if a genie offered me one wish that (outside of the obvious serious ones) I would definitely ask for a really fast metabolism. Not fame, not fortune...the ability to eat fajitas as often as I want and never gain an ounce.

When I read Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat Pray Love" a couple years ago I was so envious of her Italian food odyssey. So I too decided to take a vacation from calorie counting and put myself on the 'no carb left behind diet' for one month. My month is coming to an end, which is good because my back-end no longer fits in my jeans. My theory is that I'll spend the next month in Africa equalizing the damage I inflicted on it in NZ and Oz. It's been such a liberating experiment. And did I mention a delicious one too?

Gelato? Don't mind if I do! Lychee sorbet is my favorite down-under discovery. I've had some fantastic meals and tried all sorts of adventurous recipes that use one of my favorite foods - sweet potato. I had a steamed chicken roll in China Town on my bike tour a couple days ago, only to hear I was missing out by not having gotten the pork steamed bun (like a dumpling). I was in a touristy part of Sydney last night with expensive restaurants, so I took an illogical $22 cab ride to China Town so I could have a $1.20 pork bun. But my $23.20 bun was totally worth it. They also make fresh Emperor's Puffs, which are like donut holes filled with hot custard. Need I say more? The lamb and pork here is scrumptious and tender. And I won't even get started on the shiraz-viognier blends that have become a dear friend of mine.

Last night I dined with my new American friend Kristin who I met in Sydney last week while we were playing frisbee golf. A fellow food enthusiast, Kristin asked me if I wanted to have a wonderful meal while in Sydney, to which of course I said yes! We went to Buon Ricardo, and as they say in Australia, it was a beautiful meal. Those fresh figs wrapped in prosciutto and baked with gorgonzola cheese may have changed me forever. We had four inspired courses, and the company was fantastic too.

Knit clothes must have been invented by a woman, and one whom I adore. She should be honored as the Patron Saint of the Bloated. Yesterday I bought loads of nutrition/meal bars to take to Africa. I also bought yogurt and fruit for my last couple days in Oz as I reenter the world of healthy eating. I got an email from my stomach lining the other day begging me for mercy. Yet, I will not forget o ye my Tim Tams, you "two layers of chocolate malted biscuit, separated by a light chocolate cream filling, and coated in a thin layer of textured chocolate." In my nights under the African stars, I'll be dreaming of you.

Australia - Captain Kangaroo

2010-02-20T21:17:00.001-08:00

I have been determined to see a wild kangaroo while in Australia. (by 'wild' I mean one in its natural habitat - although a roo drinking and dancing would be fun too!) Frustrated I hadn't seen one, I commented to a girl I met that "at this point I'd settle for a kangaroo carcass!"

My mom used to tell me to always ask God for exaclty what I wanted - to pray my heart's desire. She said that if we offer God a compromise He just may take us up on it! The same day I made the carcass comment I was driving in my car hire (rental car) and sure enough, dead kangaroo in the middle of the road. I couldn't believe it! It somehow left me unfulfilled in my 'roo desires!

The following day as I drove I was thinking about this little lesson learned when literally - at that moment - a kangaroo hopped right across the highway in front of my car! It was like God said - okay you got the point - I'll let you see an alive one now! I was so pumped that I made a few hoots and hollers as I drove along! (yes, I'm aware of my dorkiness)

A little life lesson from a smashed kangaroo, who'd have thought?!?

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Location:Harbour St,Haymarket,Australia

Australia - "I'm a sailor, I sail"

2010-02-18T16:29:00.001-08:00

I spent two wonderful days sailing the beautiful Whitsunday Islands. By day, the sailing is so enjoyable. By night, the boat turns into a floating torture chamber.

On Sunday night I booked a two -night sailing trip and a flight down the coast of Oz from Cairns. Since I was booking for a nearly immediate departure I perhaps skimmed some specifics, like oh say no air conditioning in the middle of the Tropics. You sign a waiver that indemnifies the sailing company if you get eaten by a shark or stung by a jelly. They really should have made me sign that I agree to be sweaty, smelly and sticky the whole time!

I was on 50 foot retired racing sailboat. Her name is Silent Night, although I suggested a rename to "Restless Night." During the day we sail though the turquise waters, stop for swimming and snorkeling, and my favorite activity - eating. ocean looked more like a giant swimming pool. We saw dolphins, loads of sea turtles and one huge creepy sea snake. The coral on this part of the GBR is so colorful I was in awe!

Not a bad view during morning tea!

There were 11 other passengers on the boat and a fun young group, with me being on older end of the spectrum. On the trip I learned that in the eyes of 17-year-old English blokes at 32 I am old enough to be a "cougar," that peanut butter and jelly belonging together on a sandwich is not a universally accepted truth, and that a rumor in the U.K. there exists that in the U.S. we don't use sarcasm in our interpersonal communications. I confirmed this rumor...in my most sarcastic tone.

I hate to complain even a smidge about the sailing adventure, but I'll do so anyway. The first night there was no breeze, so sleeping in the galley was simply not workable. With my towel, top sheet and pillow in hand I moved to a space on the deck. Twice I was awakended because it was pouring buckets, and another time I was awoken by a bug who decided up my nose would make a nice landing pad. The rest of the night I lied contorted too uncomfortable to sleep! There was a former marine on-board and he said sleeping at bootcamp was easier than on a hard, curved wet deck. This is my bed - between the winches and the edge of the boat...which I was certain I was going to roll off and into the mouth of a shark.

The view of the stars from was mesmorizing. Just incredible - tons of constellations like the Southern Cross and satellites orbiting. Even with the miserable sleep, still a great trip. Dangling my feet off the side of the boat, or napping on deck was wonderfully serene.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Whitsunday Islands, Queensland, Australia

Australia - Finding Nemo

2010-02-13T02:22:00.001-08:00

I thought panoramas on land are gorgeous, but now I think God created His finest masterpiece under water! I did my first dive and two snorkles in the outter Great Barrier Reef. It must not be summer under water because school is definitely in session - thousands of fish swimming together. Literally.

(my pre-SCUBA concentration face)

This was my first SCUBA. There's something about an activity that in the on-boat lesson the instructor teaches you the hand signal for 'shark', and a separate sign for 'great white shark' that's a bit unnerving! It took me a couple minutes to trust my oxygen tank and then I loved the freedom of being able to stay under and go down 12 meters to socialize with the sealife.

I saw a huge variety of fish, scary stingy jellies, clams, sea cucumbers and coral. I even saw Nemo with his clown fish friends! The fish covered the full spectrum of colors and patterns.

I had this wow - I'm really diving the Great Barrier Reef moment today. It's a bucket list must!

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Location:Davidson St,Port Douglas,Australia

Australia - Crikey!

2010-02-12T03:59:00.001-08:00

G'day mates!

I realize I said mate, but I'm actually anti early-adoption of foreign English words. I think I'd sounds totally ridiculous if I was all: had a great time with my mates. Right-o! There were a few bogens out last night. The road was chockers bc of a big car smash. Or back home if I asked the Starbucks barista for a 'flat white with trim milk' she'd look at me as if I had a a wallaby on my head! But I confess I have adopted sunnies (sunglasses) and brekky (breakfast) into my vernacular. They're just fun to say!

I'm now in sunny and very warm Port Douglas (north of Cairns, pronounced Cans). The ocean is a stunning mix of my favorite green and blue crayons. I will be doing my first dive from here off the Great Barrier Reef. (please no sharks please no sharks please please). Actually, in the summer you have to wear a 'stinger suit' so really it's box jellies I want to avoid.

I am spending the next two weeks on the western coast of Oz, and one night in the middle of absolutely nowhere in the Northern Territory Outback. My dad took me to see Crocodile Dundee. It was my first PG13 movie and the scene where Sue wears a thong into the croc-infested waters left a huge impression on me. Perhaps I will find Mick to take me on a walkabout too!

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Location:Davidson St,Port Douglas,Australia

New Zealand - Woman vs. Wild

2010-02-05T13:13:00.001-08:00

But before I say who won that battle...

I'm staying at a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere in far north NZ. The farm has been passed down for five generations and is surrounded by rolling hills and cows in the dell. I literally woke up this morning to mooing - I opened my eyes and the cows had decided to chew their cud outside my room. The owner's husband is Stefano - a fantastic Italian chef who makes our meals to order from scratch. Last night was pizza, tonight was handcut pasta. I won't mention the platter of tri-berry pancakes he served me this morning for fear of sounding like this pig in our yard - whose cousin I munched for breakfast.

It's a warm and wonderful place and wish I was staying longer than two nights.

View during meals at the farm -

Today I hiked for five hours. Literally put one foot in front of the other for that length of time. I decided to hike to a cliff that's called the Duke's Nose. This is the Duke far in the distance - after 1.5 hours I came up on this view and was like holy crap - that's still really far!

About an hour in I was up to my ankles in swampy marsh - my cute silver addidas now a lovely shade of mud. I waded through creeks, jumped over rocks and hung on to branches for dear life. This is the trail - I felt like I was Kate in an episode of Lost!

I must have missed the week in Bluebirds when I was five years old when they taught about the importance of the buddy system! In all five hours I did not see one other person. It was peaceful; I used the time to think, pray and sing aloud with my iPod (the only non-peaceful part was when I started thinking about how it would be a good place for an axe murderer to hang out). After 2.5 hours I got to nearly the top - only to summit you have to rock climb up a very steep chain.

There was no turning back so up I went and when I made it to the top I had my own little Rocky moment! And the view made it worth it!

Now getting back down the chain was when the momentary panic set in and I considered sending my Dad an emergency beacon with my GPS coordinates! It was a strenuous and liberating day - I had no idea how tough I could be. So in this episode of Woman vs Wild, woman won.

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Location:Kahoe, Far North NZ

New Zealand - Free Falling

2010-01-31T20:43:00.000-08:00

I'd say I jumped out of an airplane at 15,000 feet, but really I was pushed. In NZ, there is absolutely ZERO ground preparation. Hamish, the jumpmaster I was attached to, said it just makes people nervous so they feel no preparation is better. While we climbed up to the 15,000 feet I asked if there is anything I should at least know for the landing, and his reply was that we'll worry about that if the chute opens! So there was no choice but to sit back, relax and enjoy the view of Lake Taupo and green hillsides!

We did around a 70 second freefall - in which time we covered 10,000 feet. Nearly two miles, so crazy. Then the rest of the way down was around 6 minutes. I even got to "fly it." It was so amazing, the feeling of plummeting to the earth was definitely different from any I've felt before. Once the chute opened Hamish thought it would be fun to spin us in circles real fast - which was almost more than I could take.

My mom always wanted to skydive - we even made plans to but her Oncologist wouldn't allow it. I hope she was able to watch me today! I hope there is skydiving in Heaven because I know she'd love it!

My skydive album: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=3371201&l=c493b81088&id=784043569

Location:Rotorua, NZ

New Zealand - abZORBed

2010-01-30T13:37:00.001-08:00

I can't stop saying out loud - New Zealand is so beautiful! It reminds me of a cross between Hawaii and Colorado - it's completely lush with both pine and palm trees all mixed together...and the most beautiful sunsets! (this pic below is from the porch of a home of a nice Kiwi family I met who invited me over for a lamb and veggies dinner)

Yesterday was activity-filled! In the morning I went white water rafting, what a rush! I was the only American which quickly earned me the name "Miss America" and some special treatment while rafting from our guide Pete. And by special treatment I mean Pete throwing me over the side of our raft when I wasn't expecting it (he had thrown no one else out) and off I went down the river hoping not to crash into one of the many large protruding rocks. One of the 'safety kayakers' came over to me once I finally stopped, only to then be lifted by Peter onto the Kayak. Not in, on. He told me to "straddle tight" and off we went. The kayak quickly flipped and I found myself going down falls upsidedown underneath a kayak, and was quickly separated from it. I couldn't stop spinning enough to figure out which way was up - it was a bit scary! (the guides didn't heed my accident-prone warning!) Finally I got back in the raft, gave the guide a good punch and told him that scared the &$*# out of me! He said if it's not scary, it's not fun! And I agreed, because it was a blast! We also went down the largest commercially rafted waterfall in the world - a 21 foot drop. But compared to the uncontrolled feeling of careening down the rapids with my survival resting solely in my life jacket, the waterfall was a breeze! The 'life' jacket definitely earns its name! (that's me in the raft going off the waterfall)

I also Zorbed. Remember those plastic balls you'd put your hamster in and he'd roll around your floor? Same concept, only filled with air, and the part I was in also was filled with water - and you get pushed off an edge and roll down a curvy path down a hill. I was in the Zorb sloshing around, it was nuts! It's wet so you have no grip or control, it was a 40 second rush! I suddenly feel guilty about unnecessary hamster torture I committed as a child! (this pic is a zorb going down the same track I went down)

To top off the day I did the luge track - I finally conquered my luge fear I've had since my nasty spill in Germany in 2000.

New Zealand prides itself on being the adrenaline junkie capitol of the world, and for good reason!

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Location:Salisbury Rd,Rotorua,New Zealand

Was there ever an Old Zealand?

2010-01-26T22:34:00.001-08:00

I turned my iPod on shuffle on my flight from Dallas to LAX and the first song it played was "Falling Down a Mountainside." I hope that isn't some sort of musical foreshadowing! I'm at the Admirals Club at LAX enjoying a free glass of pinot noir and looking over my gigantic plane I'll soon be boarding to Auckland. I'm pretty jazzed that this 13 hour flight will be in first class not business like I booked - so a bed that lays flat awaits me! This I believe, not my music, is a sign of more good fortune to come!

I'm officially unemployed and homeless. I packed up my life and it fit nicely in a 10x15 foot storage unit; I'm off the reservation. It was odd to pack up the 'things' in my life without know where or when or what I'll be doing when I unpack them.

I've been asked if I'm running away from real life. Who says my so-called real life has to always be a steady career and routine in Dallas? I believe seeing the world is every bit as much real living. Of course 2009 was no cakewalk for me, so I see 2010 as a year of healing and enjoyment. In this journey I'm circling the globe - then I will be right back to where I started. Only I hope with renewed purpose, hope, a little more patience and a few new pair of shoes!

Speaking of hope, I sure hope I like myself because I'm going to get a whole lotta me time over the next three months! When I get to Auckland I have a hotel lined up for one night - and no other plan. I'm thinking I may flip a coin to decide if I should start heading north or heading south -and let my adventure begin! (I'm very grateful to the someone who sketched out a NZ plan for me.) When I've traveled alone in the past the travel gods have been so good to me, and I'm so thankful for those fortuitous friendships!

I'm also so very thankful for all my friends and family that have been so supportive of this trip and helpful in getting me ready; I'm thrilled to share this adventure with you!

I'm off in search of Kiwis - people, fruit, animals...I'm not picky as to which kind!

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Location:World Way,Los Angeles,United States

All Roads Lead to Rhodes

2009-09-11T14:34:00.001-07:00

Actually, all seas lead to Rhodes is more like it. We took a hydrofoil to and from Rhodes today. I know how it got it's name - it goes on water and is as sturdy as a roll of aluminum foil. Shala calls it a coke can - either way not real sure it would meet US safety standards!

I wasn't a fan of Rhodes, but today things just didn't go our way. I know, I know, it sounds terrible to complain about a day at a Greek Isle. It's just that it is probably the most commercialized touristy place I've been since Disney World. After walking around the fortified old town we grabbed a taksi to one of the "best" beaches. We wandered around looking for an authentic taverna to get a lamb gyro for lunch. At one point I looked at Shala and asked her if we were in South Padre! We found Subway, KFC, Pizza Hut, Mickey D's, and TGI Fridays. We couldn't find a place for a gyro. We finally stumbled on one, sat down at the counter and ordered our lamb gyros. All out of lamb today, we were informed. Seriously, out of lamb in Greece?!? So we settled for chicken gyros then grabbed a cab all the way back to Old Town because it started to rain. It was blue skies when we arrived, then a couple hours later it rained for the first time since May! Why am I not surprised? Afterall, Istanbul started to FLOOD while we were there! It was a cute old town and we did our part to support the Greek economy while there. All in all neat place, just lost its charm somewhere along the way.

In search of something very local back in Bodrum for dinner, we had mezes at a fantastic place where we sat outside overlooking the harbor and castle. We were the only non-residents; the owner's mom does the cooking and there is no menu. Whatever mama cooks, you eat. Mezes are the equivalent to tapas in Spain. I've been in Turkey a week and the word for eggplant is the only word I've learned!

Our mildewmobile survived the trip Ephesus yesterday. Only 4 of its 5 gears work and it constantly drips water on your feet, but it served its purpose. I tried to sell Shala on the dripping being an added Turkish foot bath feature but she wasn't buying it! We loved Ephesus. Very cool to walk where Paul walked - turns out he lived in the 'burbs and not the urban center of Efes. Words just don't do, one of those places you just need to go to know.

It's been an eye-opening trip. We are here during Ramadan so I've learned about that. We discovered that you don't have to show any ID when flying within Turkey, and that customs in Greece is purely optional! There is an emergency code for women to dial from any phone if they become victims of "international human trafficing." Regretably, jorts seem to be in style for men. Genie pants are the craze for women. The watches are genuine fakes. UB40's Red Red Wine seems to be topping the charts here because it's played constantly. The people are warm and friendly. The food is delicious and the wine goes down smoothly.

I'm afraid I have contracted a new strand of the H1N1 Swine Flu. It's the 'little piggy' strand and I got it from 10 days of partaking in the local cuisine and wine. How's the old saying go...when in Turkey?

This trip's been a Turkish Delight.

I hope my credit card has good fake car rental insurance!

2009-09-09T14:21:00.001-07:00

We rented a car today so we can explore all the sleepy fishing villages on the Bodrum Penninsula and drive the 90 km to Ephesus tomorrow. We went to a place in town that was an obviously local rental shop.

They used what looked to be a standard rental agreement - but I now think the blank agreements were stolen from National Car Rental next door. In talking to the guy who arranges these types of things at our hotel and looking on the Internet, 85 Euros seemed to be the going rate per day. Our local place though, they offered us 50 Euros for two days - what a deal, right?!?

Having had a previous run-in with Avis in Spain, I made these guys to the requisite walkaround so we could mark up the damage. Our car is a hoopty. We basically marked the entire car picture up on the contract - I think all surface areas have been in contact with a pole! When he first started it for us, it wouldn't even start. I said to the rental guy who speaks broken English - this car is pretty beat up, never seen a rental car in this bad of shape. He looks at me and says - oh this isn't one of our cars, it's my buddy's and he needs to make some extra money so I'm renting it out for him.

Really?!? Is that even legal? So we are now tooling around Turkey in our mildew/smoke smelling beat up Fiat. I love a good bargain but I may be pressing my luck with this one... I sure hope it survives the trip to Ephesus tomorrow!

-- Posted from my iPhone

Would you like wine with your snorkel?

2009-09-08T14:50:00.000-07:00

We love Bodrum, it's a picturesque seaside town with white washed houses that dot the hillsides. We chartered a 20 meter boat today, one normally packed with loads of tourists. Just the two of us, our crew of two Turks and an Albanian, and the sparkling Aegean Sea. (Had I cracked open a travel book prior to coming I would have known I was not going to the Med like I thought until today.) We are not high rollers, merely fierce negotiators : )

After about an hour of going along the coast we stopped in an area they call the aquarium - really turquoise water so you can see everything. We jumped in the water and the crew threw us some snorkel gear and dropped bread in the water. Giant schools of fish appeared immediately! We are snorkeling in the sea, no life jackets so paddling away, and our crew brings in a floating tabletop into the water, and pour us wine. Watching Shala take that first sip of wine while wearing a snorkel mask was the funniest thing I have seen in a long time. It may sound easy, but wine while snorkeling requires great skill. While treading water and keeping our glasses out of the waves while taking a sip - whew. Because we had on snorkel masks we couldn't breathe through our noses while we drank; I never realized until today that oxygen to the nose while imbibing is something not to be taken for granted! There was one point where we were in the water and the crew in the boat that I regretted that lazy Saturday afternoon I watched Open Water II, Adrift at Sea.

After a tough day at sea, we indulged at yet another street vendor - the Turks serve up a mean grilled cheese!

We saw so many beautiful places today that it made me think a lot about my mom. She always wanted to come here and she would have loved today. When God created the earth He added something special to this place. If my mom has a say in her backdrop options in Heaven I think this incomparable cultural mosaic may be it!

-- Posted from my iPhone

Hoping for a magic carpet ride, but terrifying taxi ride is as close as I got!

2009-09-07T22:54:00.001-07:00

I'm more than a wee bit tired right now. It's 7:45am and we are catching a flight to Bodrum for 5 days on the coast.

We really liked Istanbul and are excited we have another day here before we return home. I've come to terms with the little ditty 'Istanbul not Constantinople' being in my head so long as I'm in the city. It could be worse for Shala though, in Costa Rica it was the songs from Dirty Dancing.

We had a super busy day exploring Istanbul. There are so many Mosques and when the call to prayer fillsvthe air it's a bit unnerving - very loud and unusual to an American's ears.

At lunch we devoured baklava which was amazing; and Shala ordered Turkish coffee. She took a sip and said - you have to try this it tastes just like dirt! And she was right. Muddy dirt. But did I mention the baklava?

We toured the Topkapi Palace which was fantastic. It's similar to the Alahambra in Grenada and the Forbidden City in Beijing in that it was a self-contained, own little world for almost 400 years. When I was in 6th grade my mom dressed me up like a harem girl - she told me a harem girl is similar to a belly dancer. Having toured where the sultans kept their harems, well I'm pretty sure she wasn't telling me the complete story.

We of course ended up at the markets - the Grand Bazaar is over 70 acres of catcalls, I mean stalls of Turkish goods (I think a bunch was imported from China). We heard every line scores of times - where are you from? Are you Swedish? Do you want a new friend? Is your name Jennifer? You have the most bluest eyes. Do you want to go to a discotec with me? And on and on. According to my buddy Frommer, the "less attractive" girls get the most attention because they are most likely to fall for the bull. I got a good laugh out of that one. The Spice Market was my favorite and smelled so delicious it made me wish I cook! There was one place that distinguished itself in such a way that those who know me well will see it's a convincing selling point - check out the pic.

I have to mention that we had the scariest taxi ride yesterday. And not just bc it's fresh on my mind - it was worse than taxis in Beijing and Nairobi! We drove on sidewalks, into oncoming traffic, nearly took out several pedestrians who were literally leaping for their lives our of our path. We had prenegotiated a very low flat rate, and the traffic was so bad our impatient driver was beside himself! Hitting the roof, extensive honking, shouting - and we seemed to be the only car on the road in such a rush. I cannot repeat the words that flooded from my mouth during this 45 minutes of terror, but it's safe to say my mom would wash it out with soap! Shala made a good point - next time we should just go with the meter because our lives are worth more than the money we saved!

Our hotel has a bar on the 15th floor with amazing views. We were having a (free) glass of wine up there debating our dinner options when we met a couple IBMers. We ended up going out to dinner with them (Dad, I had my saw) and it was a lot of fun. The British guy works in the same group as Shala and used to live down the street from me in Dallas. We discussed his favorite Tex-Mex places in the neighborhood and even he made fun of Mesquite! It's a CRAZY small world.

On the plane to Bodrum now and ready for five glorious days on the Med!

-- Posted from my iPhone

How to eat your way through Madrid in 48 hours

2009-09-05T10:26:00.001-07:00

That is really the most appropriate title for our two days in Madrid. We've been what I call "lazy tourists" but Shala says we are "non-tourist tourists" which sounds much better!

We've mostly just walked around, sipped cafe con leches, we had Gelato, churros and of course tapas and wine! Churros come with a coffee cup full of melted chocolate! Tapas translation is 'small plates' but so far there has been nothing small about what we've had! Lots of cheeses, yum.

Having spent 5 weeks here 6 years ago I've been able to provide invaluable insight for Shala. In the gardens outside the palace I told her...these statues represent something, but I can't remember what. Or, this arch has bullet holes from an assasination that started a war. Of course I couldn't remember who, or what war! Shala made fun of me mimicing- to your left is a big fancy building, and to your right is a big fancy building.

Last night we went out in an area predominately for locals. After dinner we went to a bar where we ended up crashing a Spanish/French bachelor party. Whoever said that 93% of communication is non-verbal is full of crap! I hummed the theme song to Dallas and they all immediately knew where we are from! Will our Texas reputation ever extend beyond JR Ewing? I was asked two funny things - do I eat lots of cheeseburgers, and is there no sun in Texas because I am so white. The only thing fair about that fight is my skin tone!

We went to Museo Reina Sofia today which is home to an impressive Picasso and Dali collection. Dali was definitely smoking something when he was painting! We saw his painting entitled Electrosexual Sewing Machine - what the heck?!?

In a world of constant change I'm comforted that I can count one thing not to remain the same - Spaniards stink in the summer!

We're resting up for dinner and headed out in a bit - pizzeria tonight! We fly to Istanbul in the morning.

Me cooling with a pitcher of tinto de verano!

-- Posted from my iPhone (so please forgive my spelling!)

Ready to leave Margaritaville and go to Sangriaville!

2009-09-03T14:32:00.001-07:00

Shala and I are at the bar in the airport drinking margaritas. We are enjoying a final taste of Texas and I'm hoping my margarita with chambord helps me sleep on the plane.

I made it through security with my executioner's saw. I was a little nervous about it, having visions of scenes from Locked Up Abroad as I anxiously waited for my bag to clear! I would hate to end up as the sequel to Midnight Express, so hopefully my luck will continue.

I couldn't sleep a wink last night so I got up at 4am to unpack from my last trip, sort laundry and make the all-important decision about what flipflops to bring! Then I downloaded music that's supposed to help me sleep, but the peaceful water rushing sounds ended up just making me wonder if I need to pee! I literally packed in under 10 minutes this afternon so hope I end up liking what I brought!

We are spending the next two days in Madrid and our mouths are already watering for authentic sangria and tapas!

Xoxo

-- Posted from my iPhone

Beijing, China - Top 10 List

2008-09-08T21:20:00.000-07:00

Finally found an internet cafe today, that Chairman Mao is not a proponent of the First Amendment!

Top 10 things I've learned in China:

1. Crossing the street is an extreme sport.

2. Acting out a chicken while ordering food is no guarantee that you will get served chicken.

3. You can find almost anything fried on a stick.

4. It's perfectly acceptable for little kids to poop on a busy sidewalk. (not sure what the lesson is there but thought it worth mentioning)

5. The great wall is in fact, great.

6. There are no fortune cookies in China.

7. Pei Wei is still my favorite.

8. Fried bumble bees taste gross.

9. Why walk on the sidewalk when you can walk straight into oncoming traffic?

10. China really put the "POW!" in kung pao chicken.

China is an amazing place, but smelly.

Costa Rica - I'm a Street Food Junkie

2008-04-26T21:13:00.000-07:00

hola.

thought i would send one more update. we got 30 minutes free internet at our hotel, named si como no. which means yes, why not? that is our new favorite spanish phrase.

yesterday was rapelling which was amazing. 5 rapells thru the canyons and waterfalls. wait until you see the photos! these faces were huge and so steep! we have a couple mean rope burns to prove it!

Today i surfed. i can actually say that becuase i was so surprisingly good. Generally, I'm not exactly what you'd call "highly coordinated." i had no idea i had such balance. jodi and i took a 2 hour lesson today. some of the waves were so giant. i really struggled with board management as far as getting back out deep bc the tide was so strong. at one point we got in a rip tide and had to do the whole swim sideways thing. I always enjoy the chance to put something I learned on Man vs Wild to good use! Hmmm, I may have picked that tip up from Baywatch. Anyhow - aside from the fear of my board whopping me in the face as i swam back out, i absolutely loved it. i definitely want to go again but somewhere the waves are a little smaller.getting up is so fun, i rode one wave for about 30 seconds, i could hardly believe it. i did take some crazy nasty falls at high speeds, ive never swallowed so much salt water in my life. afterward we were so exhausted, it is a crazy hard workout. we found this random street vendor with a grill and picnic tables and ate chicken kabobs, rice, beans yucca and plantain. YUM!!! it was this huge feast for $5. here's to hoping those Africa vaccines are still working!!

we are resting now and tonight going to a discoteca/bar. its noche senoritas. so we thought, si como no?

tomorrow is a 2.5 hour hike thru manuel antonio national park (assuming i can move all my parts), then the afternoon at the beach.

My brother TJ has always said my closest animal relative is the sloth. I saw a sloth napping in a tree today and let me tell you, my closest animal relative is quite cute.

xoxo

stefani

Costa Rica - Not Enough Chemicals

2008-04-24T20:54:00.000-07:00

Intro: I went to Costa Rica with two friends - Shala and Jodi - in April 2008. We started off in San Jose, then went up to the Arenal volcano area, then flew in a banana leaf down to Quepos to check out Manuel Antonio national park.

It was a great trip and we learned a great life lesson - when you have a chance to try something new, say Si como no?

****

We are in an internet cafe after quite a day. i needed to check my work email and was pleased to learn today that one of my biggest deals for the quarters got a yes from the customer. i should go on vacation in Q4 more often!!!! it wouldn`t be a trip with out an update!

just wanted to drop a note. while only a 4 hour flight, costa rica feels like its on the other side of the world. all i can say is wow, what a place! and we haven`t even been here 24 hours yet! our hotel is amazing, tabacon. it`s right at the base of the arenal volcano and today was clear so we got to see the top of it as it erupts. after we got to the hotel around 10am we went to the hot springs pools area. wow, again. it is paradise. there we indulged in a ridiculously expensive lunch of sandwiches and lounged in the pools, springs, and waterfalls.

we just finished our first adventure. it was awesome. i mean, a third wow. first we rode horses 3km thru the jungle and countryside up to where the canopy tour starts. the views were so beautiful, the landscape here is gorgeous. then we did 10 ziplines over the cloud forest. it was such a rush. i wasn`t really scared except on one that was 3000 feet long and i was going super fast and ended up going backwards so it was crazy!! what i didn`t expect was the ridiculous amount of straight up hiking. i am in terrible shape. the zip lines were so much fun. we met a french girl who is traveling alone right now, it was just the four of us on our trip. our guides were a riot. on the last one, he asked me if i wanted to go last. so i said sure, then he said do you want to do something fun. Again i said sure and he said he will make me supergirl. so he changed up my belay so i my last zip was hanging upside down, basically supermanish when i pulled myself up. it was quite the adrenaline rush!!!!!

one of my favorite things about foreign travel is the people you meet, the locals specifically. on the horse ride back, which deserves whole other story, he and i were talking. he told me in his broken but impressive English that he was engaged, but he broke it off because there just were not enough chemicals. so cute! i explained the term "chemistry" to him.

so hopefully our butts aren`t so sore tomorrow from the hiking and horseback that we can't go on our next adventure. we get picked up at the hotel at 7am for the canyoning and rappelling trip, then will spend the afternoon at leisure at the hot springs.

we are about to meet up with the frenchie and go find a restaurant here in town in la fortuna. it really is amazing how different a place like this feels from my usual flavor of mexico.

adios and amor,

stefani

Shala took this picture right outside our hotel room - I think we qualify for "room with a view"!

Kenya - How Africa Changed Me

2007-08-15T20:21:00.000-07:00

While traveling, it is the revelatory experiences that stick with you the longest. In the big ah-ha moments we become self-aware, shift our perspectives or discover parallels between travel and everyday life. These are the experiences that you did not expect to have, but then never forget as they become part of you.

The day before I left for my solo journey to Kenya my family learned that my mom’s cancer had likely spread to tumors in her spine. We had no other information, and I was distressed with the timing of my departure and this new development. A couple days after my arrival in Kenya I was at an internet café when I got the email from her – things had indeed worsened and a tumor was growing in her spine at the base of her neck. She immediately began a heavy course of radiation as she was at risk for paralysis. I was on the other side of the world and overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness and grief. At home we have each other; in Kenya I had no one. I was able to fight back the tears and made it back to the apartment seemingly composed. I crawled in my bunkbed, turned on my iPod and cried myself to sleep in this moment of despair.

The following day was my first at Dorna Rehab Primary School in Kibera slum. The children at Dorna are either orphans by the US definition, meaning no surviving parents, or orphans by the UNICEF definition. meaning one surviving parent. Not only are they orphans, but they have nothing in the literal since of the term, nothing. Living in the squalor of open sewage, no electricity and much of each day with grumbling empty bellies, I met the most bright-eyed, enthusiastic, eager five-year-olds. Children whose faces light up with the simplest pleasure, like a single balloon, a piece of candy or a new song.

I have absolutely no experience teaching students so this was a real stretch for me. I was baffled by how to fill up each day with students who barely spoke English, no classroom supplies and a local teacher who brutally cained the kids for no apparent reason. In my classroom there were 25 students crammed around tables in a room about 10'x10'. To get out from behind the table the kids had to walk not only across the tables, but often times across each other leaving painful kicks in the noggin in their wakes. My curriculum of coloring books, candy bribery and mishmash of songs would have never been approved in the US, but was a hit in this African slum. I have this random propensity for remembering children songs I learned at summer camp and school as a child. So we sang. And sang some more. In fact if you go to Kenya and hear students belting out Old MacDonald and B-I-N-G-O horribly out of key, it’s because I was raising up a classroom of off-tune singers as I am absolutely tone deaf.

The song the kids latched onto more than any other was “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands.” We sang it repeatedly; by the end of the day He had every animal and person you can imagine “in His hands.” After school I made the 15 minute walk back to central Kibera to meet my roommates, as it was day one we hoped that collectively we could wander out the maze of seemingly identical shanties and intimidating stares and find our apartment. It was on that walk down the railroad tracks, surrounded by roosters and long-jumping over sewage that I had one of these revelatory moments.

I had just spent the day with orphans, who by age five already lost one or both parents. Children who in the midst of extreme poverty and a seemingly hopeless life, experience the purest joy at something as simple as a hug. I began to reflect, was I really just feeling sorry for myself about my mom being sick? My mom, who even now that I’m an adult is in every way a parent and a best friend to me? A mom who cared for me when I was ill, cheers for me even when I fail, and believes in me the way only a mom could. I was suddenly ashamed of myself, feeling very ungrateful for the years I have had with her. Compared to these Kenyan children growing up in this abhorrent slum, I have been so blessed and fortunate. While it is still okay for me to be sad about my mom, it was a major mindshift for me to realize that all things considered, I have much to be grateful. My heart began to break for these kids in my class and I was overcome with contentment and gratitude of my abundant life.

It’s been months since I was spending my days singing off key and teaching the hokie pokie, but I still think about those kids often. I look for their faces on the news during stories of violence in Kibera and wonder if they’re still surviving life the only way they know how. I heard once that you can leave Africa, but Africa doesn’t leave you. On days when I’m feeling particularly sad about my mom, I pause to pray and thank the Lord for all the time he has given me with her and the luxury of having a mother that bountifully provided for me both physically and emotionally. Then I remember, He’s got the whole world in His hands.

Kenya - That Was Close!

2007-08-03T20:13:00.000-07:00

It was my second day in Kenya and eager to get my feet wet in this far away land, my new friends and I decided to hire a driver for the day to take us to sites on the outskirts of Nairobi. Little did I know that by the end of the day I would be drenched in Kenya. This capital city really does not have any major sites, but there is a Giraffe Center, baby elephant orphanage and this cultural dance center (where I had hoped to see the African Ant Eater Ritual). We found the driver through the Hilton and he told us he would pick us up out front at 10am. So we were there promptly, not yet understanding what “African time” means. So for about an hour we watched the cars get checked for bombs as they pulled in front of the hotel, and waited for Bob the driver.

Once he picked us up, and totally unapologetic for the tardiness, he proved to be an informative and friendly driver. He even took us to Carnivores for lunch where I had my first sampling of Ostridge balls and crocodile (dining on Zebra has been outlawed in Kenya so we didn’t get to push to the outer limits of the African exotics). And while the giraffe center doesn’t really have anything to do with the story, it is worth pointing out that I did put a piece of giraffe nibble between my lips and this giant giraffe licked it right out of my lips. It was tongue unlike any I had ever experienced. Okay, so back to Bob. After a long day, we headed back into Nairobi where he was going to drop us off at a local Massai market (recognizing it would violate a cardinal tourist rule by buying souvenirs at the beginning of a long trip). It was rush hour, or as they say – jam. The jam seemed to clear up and we started very quickly picking up speed. “Watch out!” screamed Jodi from the backseat! Boom. Too late, we slammed into the truck in front of us. Bob looked over at me in the front passenger seat and says in a typical Kenyan English accent, “Whoah,that was close!” Close? Did he just say close? This word must not have universal meaning, because where I hail from, if you crash in to the car in front of you, and the hood of your car is smoking, that is beyond the threshold of close. We all just sat there, a little shocked at the turn of events. Then the instincts kick in and we quickly discussed which was more likely to result in our demise, staying in a smoking car or getting out of the car and standing on the side of the road in the most dangerous city on the continent, in which case we may as well put some kind of “rob us” target on our heads. So in the car we stayed. Bob swiftly put a orange flag on the road behind us to deter anyone from having a close call with us. In a matter of minutes Bob bribed the driver of the truck into not calling the police and settled the matter. Now if only our car would start…

Traveling in a third-world country is guaranteed to put you in the type of situations that your parents warned you about. Stranger danger, wreckless driving, drugs and thugs. Pretty much the full gamut. To survive, the key is to keep your wits about you and evaluate the situation quickly, then make the best decision you can based on the information you have. It’s not just about surviving, but about turning these experiences into a new adventure. After Bob pushed our smoking car to a place that was reasonably safe (so something along the lines of hanging at the El train tracks at 4am around the most dangerous stops in Chicago) we were able to go on foot. We gave Bob an extra big tip that day; after all, he just gave us a great story.

Kenya - Howdy! (not nearly as cool as Jambo)

2007-07-26T20:58:00.000-07:00

i re-entered the world yesterday and it sucks! stay in Africa!

I got home Sunday and about 3 hours after i got home was in the emergency room getting fluids and morphine. my whole body was cramped to the point i couldn't stop crying. There has to be a small animal in my intestines. it had to be that meal in the slum with my sponsored boy. i knew i was in trouble as i swallowed each bite. i slept 32 of my first 36 hours home.

so i gained 9 pounds in my 4 weeks there, definitely should have put some exercise on this trip. The scoopfuls of lard were more than I could metabolize!! Only i could go to a third world country and gain wait. i can't fit into any of my clothes so i'm in all knit. it is so special.

i'm thinking it best to ease back into work so i'm headed to the pool, gotta get some color before the big 3-0 festivities this weekend so I'm not fat and pale : )

stef

Kenya - Earthquake

2007-07-18T20:55:00.000-07:00

hey there, just in case its made news there. we had a 6.1 mag yesterday, pretty nuts. but there is no reason to rush out, not that i could leave sooner than tomorrow anyway. but i did get a note from the embassy.

jodi and i are having dinner at hassan and naheed's house tonight, we are at a shopping center in the nice part of town where they live.

today meeting kennedy was really neat, can't wait to tell you about it.

my latest ordeal is that i was alone in a cab this morning going to the compassion center -which should have been totally safe - and this whole scene happened with my driver and the police and my taxi driver got arrested and his car towed and there i was on the side of the road with a cop screaming at me too. it was scary. but i managed to get him to call me another cab...i'll fill in the drama details later. i'm okay, it just sucked and i was nervous bc they love to arrest or extort money from americans, the police are so corrupt. they had no reason to arrest my driver. it was just nuts. anyway, it's like what else...car accident, earthquakes, driver arrested. maybe i am ready to get the heck out of dodge!

xoxo

Kenya - In the Mara, the Mighty Mara, the Lion Sleeps Tonight

2007-07-17T20:31:00.000-07:00

sasa friends! thought i would drop one last note as my time in kenya is coming to an end - can hardly believe i left home over 3 weeks ago. we got back to what we have affectionately named Nairobi Rob Kenobi today from four amazing days in southwest kenya at the masai mara reserve.

before i say a few a words about that - just a couple things about the first couple weeks. working in the school in the slum were pretty insightful. i'm really going to miss a few of the kids, especially the little Ndugu (About Schmidt fans) that i would like to bring home. the one thing i won't miss is the way the teachers beat (literally) the kids, it's so hard to watch. I had my share of wooden spoon swats on the butt as a child, but watching a 5 year old get struck all over his body and screaming in pain, all for missing a math problem, is too much for me take. i did manage to get through without falling into the great wide stinch - if the olympics ever add long distance sewage jumping as an event i think i can medal in it.

so just when i was getting used to not having hot water and having to remember to move the toilet paper before showering, we flew to masai mara, the huge game park that people come to kenya to experience. Four of us spent the last few days in utter luxury in these amazing tent bungalows at a brand new lodge and were waited on like royalty. at night after a four-course dinner we'd sit around the bonfire and discuss important things like did Johnny and Baby end up together, or was it just a summer fling that never really lasted. The stargazing was incredible and I got to see the Southern Cross.

The game drives were a lot of fun - especially with our goofiness. Jodi and I have fun talking to the animals like they're supermodels when we take their photos - you're fabulous, work it, amazing. We had an intimate encounter with 14 elephants that surrounded our jeep and saw just about everything else there we could see animal-wise. Yesterday I jokingly asked our driver, Vulture, if I could drive our massive 4x4 Land Rover open air jeep as and he said yes - so for about 30 minutes I off-roaded through the Mara on the bumpiest trails - it was so fun...although my friends may say it was terrifying! we were also INCREDIBLY fortunate in that the annual famed wildebeest migration started while we were there as they crossed over from tanzania (which we went into) and into kenya. it was such a sight - thousands of them everywhere. by far the coolest thing we did was a sunrise hot air balloon ride over the reserve, it was such an unparalleled view of God's wild imagination on display through His creation!

wow - just had ANOTHER earthquake literally as i write this. That is number 4 in the last 3 days. last night's in the mara was so bad it woke me up! it's been two years since they've had these and are speculating a really big one may be just about to happen....hopefully not in the next 48 hours while I'm still here.

One of my friend's and I got a room in town for the next couple days and tomorrow I'm spending the day with the boy (and his family) that I sponsor who lives about 30 minutes from town, then thursday night I'm off to London for a couple days before returning home. My diet here consists of the 4 C's, carbs, coffee, chocolate and cookies so it will be good to get home and back to normal and healthy eating!

thanks for all your fun emails and prayers - this trip has been amazing for me in so many ways and I feel like I have a new and much-needed perspective on many things.

Stefani (just like from Bold and the Beautiful as every Kenyan says to me)

Kenya - So Tired

2007-07-12T20:28:00.000-07:00

school got out early today so i decided to make my way to internet and in a few minutes i am off to have nap. i am so tired today for some reason!! im fine, just exhausted. in a couple hours we are going to junction where the nakumat - grocery store- and coffee house are. us girls are cooking dinner tonight for our hosts. each of us is going to make a little something from home that we like. i may try to make a mexican dip if i can find the ingredients! so we'll see, between my limited repertoire and the little selection of food there is no telling what i am going to come up with. yesterday evening we were at nairobi java house and there was huge group of folks from the US from student ventures - campus crusades HS group - and it was fun hearing about their mission trip over here.

i can't believe I've been gone for over 2 weeks already! nuts!

well, i'm off to nap and get some food from my snack bag. i sure wish i had brought more protein bars. oh well.

xoxo

Kenya - Zebras and Giraffes and Flamingos, oh my!

2007-07-09T20:07:00.000-07:00

Been a few days and a world of new experiences so thought i would check in with you guys. amazing how quickly i seem to be establishing a new normal. only 11 days here in kenya and already have a routine. things that seemed so foregin or shocking are now just part of the way things are here. we have also began to experience the kenya corruption tax, where we just have to be so carefull to not be taken advantage of since we are mizungus and it is assumed we are all wealthy.

school is going well, tiring. just finished a long day - i taught them some new songs today and did a lesson on animals. most are eager to learn and they are so easily excited it can be hard to introduce new things to them.

now on to the good stuff - this past weekend was a hilarious adventure. four of us girls, 3 americans and jessica the aussie set off on safari. three of us are all turning/just turned 30 and it's jodi's 33rd bday today, so we decided we must be on our one-third life crisis since we all came to africa not knowing a soul here. we spent our first day at hell's gate national park. we hiked this amazing gorge that has these steaming hot springs, and even did a rock climb - which i had to be talked into as it seemed way too vertical to do without proper equipment. but i made it with only a couple bruised knees and the view was great!

Hell's Gate is the only national park in Kenya that allows you to ride a bike through, so at my brilliant suggestion we rented bikes about 3 kilometers outside the gate. The bikes we rented were not quite up to par with what Lance Armostrong rides. Actually, they aren't event up to par with what your neighborhood teenage paperboy rides! The roads aren't paved, and instead are a couple inches thick of loose red dirt. Completely exhausted by the time we finally made it to Hell's Gate's entrance, we promptly turned around and rode our bikes back to where we rented them, negotiated a partial refund, and hopped back in our van!

There were some animals at Hell's Gate, but nothing compared to what we saw the next day at Lake Nakuru national park which was just beautiful. it is home to over one million flamingos which make the lake a sea of pink. it was an amazing site! we also got to have a rare encounter with a family of 5 white rhinos and watch the babies play in the mud. we saw two kinds of giraffes - one which is rare - and got so close to them it was unreal. zebras and monkeys were just everywhere, along with about 10 other types of animals. the baby warthogs may be my favorite - they have mullets and do this little waddle. adorable.

the roads to get there were just unreal - so scary here and like being on a really old, rickety rollercoaster. it's just really better not to look forward most of the time. the roads are so, so bumpy on some very long stretches that you actually catch air. we found if we act like a character from The Awakenings and sit totally limp the ride is a bit less painful. that, and we sang every song written in the 80s, and the funniest part about that is the aussie is the one who knew the most words - even willie nelson! our lazy driver forgot to put the pins in the back of the van to keep the trunk closed, so it opened and our bags flew out into the road. by the grace of god - it was on a non-highway part in a town so some nice people went and got them from the road so they didn't get run over, or we'd have been in real trouble! about an hour later we over-heated and we coasted into a little place on the side of the road and they had to pour water all over the engine. yes, that's what they call here africa time - nothing happens as or when you think it will.

just so you don't feel sorry for me over here, when we got back to town last night we went to the movies and saw John McLane single-handedly save the world again - complete with popcorn, rollos and diet coke, then went for a late dinner at java house and i had a plate of refried beans, mexican rice and guac! it was so yummy!!

love you guys!

stefani

Kenya - Payer Life

2007-07-06T20:02:00.000-07:00

speaking of prayer life - nothing like being here to get you praying all the time! yesterday i had to take a matatu home from compassion. a matatu is like a small bus/van that locals ride and you just pay a guy that kinda hangs out the side of the van. muzungus dont ride much unless they are pros like me now - hee hee. they are ok, just two girls i know got pickpocketed on them just this week so you have to be super careful. they cram about 15 people in what should hold 7. so yesterday it was packed full, the only white person of course just holding on to my backback for dear life praying!! they get carjacked pretty regularly and whites get robbed all the time, but there arent that many other options. anyway, i made it back home safely, i was so proud of myself! i'm like, ive got africa down!! it is just so nuts here. just so unlike anything, i know i keep saying that but it is just unreal!! i haven't taken that many pictures yet so next week will load up. its so hard to get them at schools bc if you pull out the camera the kids rush you and they wont pose or back up they are so excited. and if the flash goes off they all scream and laugh, and they all are just so eager to look at the picture in the digital viewer. i tried so hard to get some to pose but they just couldn't contain their excitement. i have group photos, but have been trying to get some of just one or two kids and those are the ones that they all just pile in. its pretty funny.

anyway, ok. bye.

Kenya - Jambo!

2007-07-05T19:59:00.000-07:00

habari gani? (how are you)

things are going great here. it is wonderful, heartbreaking and exhausting all at the same time.

what i have seen in the kibera slum i cannot describe, i will just have to show you pictures, which even then wont properly describe. amazing how quickly i am used to balancing on random pieces of metal to step over open sewage (coordination skills don't fail me now!) it is worse than anything i could ever imagine, seeing these small kids playing in piles of garbage and sewage. the homes are mud huts with metal tops i'm on the lookout for flying toilets thanks to the warning on wikipedia! everyone there is nice and many are content, it is their home.

I am assignd to a christian school in kibera that has 3 classrooms for orphans 2 - 6yrs, there are 100 kids total. each classroom is about 10x8 ft, the kids are so tightlypacked they ahve to walk on the tables and each other to get in andout of their seats. they have no supplies -literally nothing. no books, a few pencils, and a few pieces of paper. so they spend much of the time chanting american songs or poems that the teacher got out of her one nursery rhme book or being told to be silent. school is taught in english, and the kids in my class know many words but dont know what it is is associated with. you guys know i can't sing - and one of the teachers asked me to teach them all the tune to common american songs which is quite scary - if you come to kenya and hear them sings jesus loves me out of tune you can blame me! i brought balloons yesterday and they were so excited, and last night i went and bought a load of school supplies so today i was able to teach a lesson and giev them a coloring assignment. they were singing 'mary has a little dog" and one teacher ased me if i know it and i sad yes but we sing mary had a little lamb. she looked at me so puzzled and said - but lamb's don't follow people to schoool? i just thought well, you've got me there! the kids are very sweet and so easily excited by a muzungu (white person) and love to call me by that name. it is so funny. there are a couple boys i would bring home with me if i could figure out how.

i have to say one thing on the food - at the home i stay at i can endure it. rice or ugali (mayflower-nasty) with some green mashed unidentifiable veggies. but at school they prepare the food in dirty pots outside with dirty water. they insist you eat some - the first day i had a bite of what is the worst thing i have ever eaten and all the adults and cook watched. i was holding back gagging tears it was so gross - especially since i had seen where/how it was prepared. now i have a new methodology where i have one bite in front of them and then secretly divy it up among my kids. one of my roommates that has been here 3 weeks already got typhoid in kibera and has been so sick, so i'm just chancing being rude.

tomorrow night i am staying of my dads friends friends for '"a proper shower and meal" and then to the mosque with them tomorrow night for an event. i think i get to where a burqa which would be very cool. then on saturday and sunday i am going wtih 3 of my new friends to hell's gate national park and laka nakuru - we hired a driver and hopefully this one wont get us in another car accident! one was enough!

well we better get back so we don't miss dinner. we've been eating out of the same pot of green stuff all week and it just sits out all day - yum yum!

Kenya - First Day in Nairobi - June 29, 2007

2007-06-29T19:37:00.000-07:00

hey guys, i promise i won't bore you guys with daily email, plus after tomorrow my access will go away. so i will bore you while i can!

so things are good. my flight here was good, i got bumped to business class and sat next to a british-educated nigerian that works in the UN in somalia and it was fascinating. eye opening.

we are at the hilton and first impression was different in that they search under cars for bombs before they can pull in and you have to go through a metal detector to get in. other than it is nice, not us nice, but nice. there are now 3 of us in the room, becky, jodi and me. we have a king bed a pull put coach so we are all set, in fact becky and i napped for about 2 hours today. we were so darn tired.

jodi, a lawyer that lives in brooklyn - and i went out exploring city center. i want to try to give you a feel but there is no way too. people everywhere. everywhere. sitting, walking, dirivng. busses every packed with people. we walked for about an hour before we decided to go have food in a cafe and we did not see one single white person. not one. now we know whats its like to be on the other side of that. everyone totally ignores you, we didnt feel unsafe or anything. we thought it sunny there are all these clean air signs, yet the exhaust is so bad that in some areas we could barely breath. black boogers for sure. everything is dirt cheap, i had a burger fries and diet coke for like 5 bucks.

tomorrow we have a tour booked of some nearby sites. we are going to an elephant orphanage for baby elephants, then to the giraffe center, than on a bomas tour, which is a cultural village. the village is tourists, but still supposed to be a good insight to kenya life. for lunch tomorrow we are going to this place that is supposed to be a must-do, where they serve zebra and all sorts of strange animals. you will be proud, i am so going to try the zebra. tomorrow night a whole bunch of us are having dinner at the thorn tree cafe which is really famous. our program starts at 745am on sunday.

well we are headed back across the street to the hilton. love you all.