hither/thither

Malaria and me!

heartrl — Sat, 7 Jun 2008 17:58:00 GMT

I hadn't been feeling too well for about week on and off. Our last night in Nairobi I started having some cramps and what not (I'll let you use your imagination for the definition of "what not") But we had already bought or tickets on an overnight bus to Kampala. At midnight we boarded our bus and my cramping INSTANTLY got worse. I had a fever. I felt like I was going to crap my pants. I couldn't sleep at all and at four in the morning I had 'an emergency' and asked the bus driver to pull over on the side of the road. I imagined lions and strange hoofed and horned animals plucking me from my crouched position on the side of the road but anything would be better than how I felt that instant. I ran behind a little road side kiosk and dropped my pants. unfortunately everyone on the bus woke up and thinking it was a bathroom brake got off the bus so they were all standing around me, but what could I do? ANYWAY, it didn't help. I was still ill and didn't get any sleep. We rolled into Kampala and got a room and I felt crappy all day. The next day feeling a little better we planned what to do for Paul's birthday. We got a cabin at a resort in the middle of Queen Elizabeth National Park, where monkeys ran across our roof and hippos growled in the middle of the night. We swam and saunaed and just generally relaxed. On a nature hike we went to a bat cave that was FILLED with bats. You could hear them hissing and flapping their wings as you approached and it was literally thousands (I haven't been able to download photos yet, but when I do... oh then you'll believe me!) It was insane. This whole time I still wasn't feeling well.
Finally when we were back from our little vacation I had another episode and this time I went to the doctor.
Where I found out I had Malaria.
I HAVE MALARIA.
So, I decided to come back to Kampala where there is some medical facilities and wait until I am off the medication and see if my Malaria has gone away.
I still feel like crap of course, but hopefully not for much longer.
And now I've been on the computer too long.
I haven't found a good computer for downloading photos yet, but hopefully soon...
Sometime this week we are going to fly to Rwanda and then move on to Tanzania to meet up with Christy and Kim.
I hope everyone is doing well.
More to come...
heartrl

OOOH GOD, UGALI!

heartrl — Sat, 7 Jun 2008 17:44:00 GMT

Well, here I am again about to apologize for my tardiness in updating and trying to put into words my latest experiences. I promise you, this time my excuse is good! AND: OH THE DRAMA, OH THE SUSPENSE!
Read on...
Where do I begin?
How about here:
Watoto Wa Baraka

After Deb left from Nairobi National Park where we saw some great wildlife we headed into Nairobi to meet up with the orphanage founder and supervisor who was to take us to the village of Pundamillia in central Kenya. We met up with another volunteer Mimi who happened to be from New York as well and headed out to meet the other two volunteers who were enjoying there day off in a small town I would get to know as it was the only place to go on our day off, Thika (famous from the literary connection "The Flaming Trees of Thika")
All together there were five us. Mimi from New York; Amy from all over the world (AMAZING! This girl is first class with tons of amazing/crazy stories including kidnappings in Sudan and Hotel diving in Mauritius); Niesha from Singapore and then Paul and I.
The orphanage houses 9 orphans (more arrived as we were leaving); Four staff members, two pigs, a handful of really obnoxious chickens a cow and a mother/daughter cat combination that was the bane of our existence; well, really it was the ugali that got to us the most...
The experience was a mixed bag that was mostly good.
The kids were AMAZING. Priceless. I fell in love with them and wanted to put them in my bags and take them with me.
Of course there were the stereotypical moments that come with working in remote villages. Dusty red roads and misty mornings. Our days were filled with digging, the never ending task of getting water from the well to use all day, then more digging, and getting to know the volunteers.
In the morning we would get up and have a piece of bread and African tea- hot milk run through a small bit of tea, almost chai like. If I woke up early enough I would walk with the kids to school. A small building about half an hour away along a red dirt path that was littered with TINY kids. I swear all the kids in the village were midgets. I've never seen such small children. And they wore these ridiculous hoods that made them look even more ridiculously cute. They were these hoods that went over their necks and head so that their faces peeked out of a little circle of yarn and of course to top it off the hood made a little point at the top so they resembled little forest ferries or something.
Kids would come running from their houses to shake our hands and say "how are you" in really high pitched voices. Like mechanically high pitched voices, like The Chipmunks. Anyway, most days I would walk Baby Joyce to school which was near the others, but she went at a different time. Once when we showed up they were just finishing morning prayer and so all 900 or so kids came screaming around us. The word for white person/ foreigner is 'Muzengu' so they would all be screaming that. The village kids were everywhere, some of them nicer than others, almost all of them wanting money to buy cake. Again, we are seen as dollar signs. I've gotten used to that.
Most of the kids said I was 'Hairy like a monkey' and tried to convince me that it would be in my best interest if I would shave my arms and legs and possibly even my chest. They loved to pull my arm hair and try to plate it. Little brats!
Really though it was a pretty magical time.
A few random memories:
Mimi brought binoculars with her and one night while letting the kids look through them at the stars and the moon I realized they were would all wave their hands just in front of them trying to touch the moon.
The chickens would not stop laying eggs on the bed in my room
In order to take a shower we would have to get water from the well and then scrunch into a small room at the end of the outhouses and pour the water over us. The stench of the toilets was sick and the red from the dust of the town that settled all over me would pour off no mater how many times or how vigorously I would scrub, the water all ways came off red.
At the end of the day the kids had to sit for an hour and do homework we would help them out by candle light since there was no electricity at first.
When they finally got electricity the kids were SO excited. they would turn the lights on and off and on and off and they LOVED to watch things charge. Seriously. When you would plug something in they would just sit and stare at it.
The village we lived in was Pundamilia, the houses were small mud or brick structures and each had a small garden attached. The town is crisscrossed with small paths and dirt roads. Children are always wondering around, crouched over picking at things on the floor or eating at unripe fruit.
All the local 'stores' and restaurants (called Hotels) and churches were mostly made of tin roofing and chicken wire.
I went to a small one for a 'trim' I tried to explain I just wanted a little cut off, but I ended up leaving with a shaved head. I swear the whole town came around to watch, pressing their faces and hands and peering in through the criss crossed wire.
One day we decided to take the kids to see a movie, which was really just a small shed that had a tv and vcr and some benches set up. The only movie we had was 'The Man From Snowy River.' It was so cute to cram all of us in there and watch it on this tiny Black and White TV!
For fun I picked up Basketball. I actually LOVE it. I'm looking forward to playing more.
On Mondays our day off we would all get up early and primp up as best as we could (Amy somehow always looked HOT and since I only have one pair of pants and two shirts I mostly looked like a red clay hobo. We would take the paths until we reached the Matatu stand and go into Thika. Matatus are basically just vans that people CRAM themselves into at ridiculous amounts and then they speed around and you fear for you life for half an hour or an hour or however long you are taking them while they blast R&B music. Usually the windows are barred so it's really easy to imagine them flipping and bursting into flames and your eminent death while some R&B song called 'Breathless' mocks you from the melting dashboard....
Oh wait, that's just me...
Needless to say it was a few weeks of my life that I will never forget.
We played A LOT of 'Would You Rather' (would you rather die this second or live for five thousand years, would you rather never leave the united states again or never ever go back, etc.)
I loved the kids, well all of them except one, who drove me nuts!
I had a few problems with the orphanage itself and if anyone would like to talk further about that, just let me know. But for the most part it was an amazing few weeks and I can't wait for something like that in my life again.

The day we left Amy and Nisha came into Nairobi with us and we all went and saw Indiana Jones and the Crystal Mask and had coffee and ate a ridiculous amount of food (I've NEVER had ugali since the orphanage. I hope to NEVER have it again...)

Paul and I stayed in Nairobi for three days basically just roaming around and taking it in. And then came the last few days...

Jambo!

heartrl — Mon, 12 May 2008 15:22:00 GMT

OH it's been a while again and let me give you the poor excuses: the Internet is bad here and I haven't been able to log onto my account, but here I am and guess what... I'm leaving!

Today I head out to begin working at an a orphanage in central Kenya for the next three weeks. There is no Internet so I will not be in touch as I would like to be. But I will be having a blast I'm sure.

But let me summarize:

Landing in Nairobi in the dark was amazing. The sky was littered with more light than the ground. I felt like the plane was coming into land the wrong direction and we were all headed for the stars! Even coming into the city didn't have as many lights as the stars above us. The sky is somehow bigger here. More brilliant. And so I was introduced to the lush landscapes of Africa!
Where India was faded shades, dust blown and sun worn- Africa is deep colors. Wet colors that seemed drenched and saturated. The green of trees hurts the eyes, the sky is electric!
Paul, Deb and I headed strait out of Nairobi for the coast and the drive to Mombasa (though long) was beautiful.
The Lonely Planet book I'm using is FILLED with warnings, watch out for this, don't do that- BE CAREFUL! It made me on edge the first few weeks. Men with guns everywhere, soldiers accompanying buses during certain routes such as Mombasa to Lamu. I found traveling here not necessarily hard but draining because I was constantly on alert.
The coast was fun, but very touristy. Lot's of Pizzerias and Germans. Until Lamu.
Lamu was AMAZING.
We took a boat into the town and felt like we were transported to another world. Lamu is another town I've found myself in love with that seem to be all over the world- labyrinthine (think Varanasi, Venice, Prague, should I go on?)
Tall Swahili buildings and beautiful beaches.
We took a Dhow trip through the mangroves and around the islands and swam in the mirrored blue water, the weather insanely perfect considering it's the rainy season.
We stayed in Lamu for four days basking in the beach life and filling up on amazing Swahili food at the local dives. It was perfect!
Then we flew back to Nairobi to do a Safari at Nairobi National Park. The Safari was fun and Deb got to pet a cheetah so we all felt fulfilled. Saw tons of wildlife and had a wonderful time.
Now Deb has headed home and Paul and I are off for the orphanage in Central Kenya.

Hopefully I will find better Internet connections and more time to write better stories for you after that, but until then....
I love you all big and send it from the splendid bright and beautiful country of Kenya your way!
heartrl

Letting go.

heartrl — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 17:11:00 GMT

Well,
Again I find it's been a while and I have so much to catch up.
Bare with me.

Assam. I loved Assam! When we finally reached the right side of the island it was like a fairy tale! Unbelievable. The island was lit up at night with a thousand fireflies and during the day when we walked the streets everyone would stop to say 'Hi' come running out of their houses to yell out to us to come into there houses and have tea with them, to sit and talk with them, one guy asked if he could just walk with us to talk. The people on Majuli island were so generous, so kind and friendly. We found less of the population spoke or used English, but the people who did were all eager to speak it with us.
Unfortunately we only had one night and two days on the island so we had to get out pretty promptly especially with all the antics of the ferry the day before.
Also we learned that it was the rainy season in all of Assam and sheets of rain came in seconds to drench us. Huge flashes of lightning. Crashing thunder. It was beautiful. So we took another ferry back to the mainland and a train. But even in Jorhat where we ended up for a few days people were SO friendly, pulling over in their cars to greet us with: 'hellowhereareyoufromhowlonghaveyoubeeninindiahowdoyoulikeitherethankyougoodbye!' and everyone we walked by said hello. On our train from Jorhat to Guwahati we met so many people who kept coming up in flocks to talk with us. They were so nice. Two of the girls we met asked us to please come to their house with them and their parents. Even though it was already ten pm when we pulled into Guwahati they had us come to their quaint, clean house and have tea and because it was the Assamese new year a special sweet that the mother had made. Everyone gave us addresses to send post cards and talked about how one day they wanted to go to Las Vegas (Can anyone send some postcards from las vegas to India for me??)
It was amazing to feel so spoiled after all our travels. It was exactly what I needed after getting so frustrated.

The next day Carrie and I caught a flight to Delhi to meet Lisa. Delhi was another reprieve as we had expected it to be chaotic and insane like Kolkata but ended up being quite westernized. I was surprised to see how clean it was and that the roads were paved and not littered with garbage and roaming cows.
We were there for three days with Lisa and walked around quite a bit. We decided to buy all our travels in advance in hopes it wouldn't ease some of the travel pains. We were taken by a rickshaw driver to what we now think was NOT the tourist office (but it turned out fine) where we tried to plan the next two weeks. Turns out all the trains were 'already booked' and we were sort of finagled and talked into buying a driver for the first four days of our trip (it came with a free day of Delhi tour) So we all forked out our money and laughed that we would have a personal driver for the next four days. Apparently these drivers slept in the car and left and stopped whenever you wanted them to!
The next day for our tour of Delhi we got to the car and there were TWO drivers! Apparently our driver Rashaan did not speak much English and his friend Assif was coming along as a guide and was trying to start his own guiding business. I was weary at first but it turned out to be great (minus the long drives with all three of us crammed in the back seat sweaty and sticking to the vinyl seats. Better than an Indian train of course.) It turned out perfect to have them both as it was funny sometimes, and awkward sometimes and we had a great soundtrack thanks to their loud bollywood music. We drove from Delhi to Jaipur to see the 'Pink City' which was a great walled city that was sort of more Burnt Seyena rather than pink but oh well. It was a fun little stop. Some shopping. The next day was another 6 hour drive to Agra which was amazing.
The Taj Mahal was so much more fantastic than I had expected. Such ornate decoration and so sweeping and gigantic.
The best was watching the sunset, sky fading pink from a rooftop cafe. Kids all around had made little kites from trash and climbed to the top of dilapidated roofs to fly them. Birds circled and caught pink flashes on their bellies as they spun in huge flocks. The Muslim call to prayer echoing through the night. It as amazing. We where there for two days and then set out for Orchha.
I don't know how to fully explain the magnitude of beauty in Orchha. It was an old Mughal Empire and housed a multitude of palaces and towering temples. The town is dusty and yellow and the sky is a sort of grey blue, like an old faded painting. The palaces and temples are now just yellow ruins that blend with the horizon and fascia flowers dot it here and there. It seems the whole town painted their houses shades of blue, sky blue, turquoise, sea blue, cerulean. It created this Arabesque feel. A desert landscape, sweeping and empty. Unbelievable.
We stayed at the Sheesh Mahal which was literally IN the ruins of one of the old palaces. It was quite and calm and amazing.

Now we have moved on through the dirty city of Jahnsi to Varanasi. The most holy city in India. It is the center of Hindi beliefs. People come to die and be burned and set a float in the filth of the Ganges river. It's intense and a bit overwhelming. The night feels like a carnival, lit with hundreds of lights and candles and boats. Kids sell floating candles to light and set to float in the river. People are constantly bathing in the brown water.
It surfaces a lot of issues I have with religion and belief systems. I find myself getting bitter and angry at times.
Pregnant women, babies, those with small pocks or leprosy are set to float in the water without even being burned. Carcases of cows ripped apart by birds float by. Tourists flock like vermin to the riverside to snap photos of men leading their brides by rope like calfs to perform Puja.
Ceremonies are constant.
People are so needy.
I see here a lot of the problems I see in organized religion. Belief systems that keep people in poverty and ultimately ruin a lot of lives. It makes me contemplate a lot...
But it is beautiful. It is surreal and captivating.
During the day it has been hot. Sweltering. 120 degrees at times. The city, away from the river is a labyrinth of streets that are tiny and wind throughout. You have to move sideways to get by people and goats and cows roam freely. It's pretty wonderful to wonder about.
I have three more days here. We are going to do a night tour tonight, go to the burning Ghats where cremation takes place and then get up early for the sunrise boat trip.
Three days. That's it! I say farewell to Carrie and then head to Delhi to see Lisa off at the airport and the next morning I am off for a quick day in Dubai and then I will be in Nairobi.

I will definitely miss India, the strangeness the beauty.
But a new adventure awaits in Africa!

I hope everyone is well.
Love, love, love. I hope it surrounds you.
Heartrl

Love and Hate in the Dry Seasons.

heartrl — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 18:20:00 GMT

A few days ago something happened.

I reached a melting point where I began to hate India.

I despised the way the place reeked of piss and rancid food and rotting trash and human waste. The trash thrown indiscriminately and in ridiculous amounts. I hated how it constantly sounds like Indians are angry, arguing, yelling (Are they?) I was sick of being stared at, gawked at, pointed to, touched, laughed at, called to and begged from. Tired of being shoved in lines, cut in front of, fed up with taking seven inefficient steps to get simple things like train tickets, boarding passes or permits; which still didn't secure whatever one was taking the steps to get.

Like any passionate relationship, I was finding all the flaws.

Please remember how I would have showered the country with superlatives of love and joy just the day prior. Well. No, that's not true. the day before the day prior...

Let me begin again: Once upon a time there was a boy who had an endless appetite, until he went to India and in just three weeks felt deathly ill twice.

THAT'S ME!

After my recent run with insane temperatures that left me spinning in a sweat dampened rickety bed under the sound of a rusty spinning fan we were off on our overnight train to Guwahatin in Assam. All I could stomach that day was a Fanta, but it did give me the strength to push and shove my way to my un airconditioned seat and sit to stare blankly for the next twenty hours. That's when it started. I watched people shoving around the train Screaming abrasively at each other (they can't possible be that mad all the time, could they?) I watched adults and children alike wantonly throwing garbage out the windows. Hauck lugies (I mean, guttural hacking lugies. It's possible they dislodge these thick monsters from somewhere so deep within that we've yet to discover and give it a name. Wherever it is from, it's LOUD and sometimes takes an eternity to climb up.)

I won't go into detail about the unpleasant adventure of using a train squat toilet when you've been sick for two days but I will tell you this much, It's a very intricate process that involves supporting ones self on multiple walls while trying not to slide off the two, wet, stainless steel foot rests, not miss your target and sort of ballerina move to keep in motion with the train itself. Once that's complete there is getting the water from a faucet in front of you, which comes form a nozzle that you have to push and no bucket, so you have to cup it in the opposite hand while activating the faucet at the same time. This means un-hendging yourself from the security of the walls and create a whole new ballerina move. And let's just say this was an adventure I set out on so many occasions you may one day find yourself on a train headed North in India and find a placard erected in my memory.

But I digress... It began then.

Amidst the chaotic commotion of touts with strange cartoon voices who all seemed to be selling the same thing and screaming out it's name. So many touts selling the same thing! There were so many they would build up and maneuver around each other sending their Puri container caps swinging into our face, clapping their shoe shiner boards, screaming in our face. It continued into the night with the loud bickering and then being woken up by beggars (where those men? Wearing saris?) Then by a woman at two in the morning screaming at a man whose berth she had snuck into in the middle of the night and stolen. Then it went on the next day. We arrived an hour late, could not figure out the map, because, of course, NONE of the streets were labeled, and set out in the cauldronous afternoon heat to find a room. When we did I had to go straight to the bathroom (the equation of three days without food and still creating waste is still way beyond my comprehension...) which sent the suspicious reception into a fit on Carrie (is he staying here? Where is his passport? Why did he leave?) Then it exponentially grew when we tried to set up our upcoming travels at the train station. I went because I've learned that to get through the impossibly annoying times during travel it takes two trading between being calm and rational and freaking out.

A quick note on train stations in India: They are less 'stations' so much as puzzles or wrecks. First there is one line where you get the paper to fill out (Sometimes not, sometimes you have to walk up to any of the random windows with twelve people pushed against it, stick your hand in the same hole of them are reaching through and hope to pull it out with the correct form in your hand.) Then there is the 'Enquiry' line where if you are a tourist you will most likely have to go to to find out the information to write on the form you just picked up. This line, like all the rest, is VERY long. I watched the clock this time and calculated a good six minute average per person in front of you, which is constant flux. It seems everyone has a friend or five whose place they are holding or changing places with, which means if there are five people in front of you there are probably ten to twenty in actuality. This group leads what resembles a 'line' until it reaches the window, here everyone presses as much as they can against the window with their papers stuck through the hole in the plexi glass. This happens for a few reasons. If you fill something out wrong you have to go back to the first line to get a new form and come back with it filled out correctly to the attendant who has already began helping the next person, and because there are certain people who don't bother waiting in the vein but rather go strait for the clot and shove their papers through the hole. all of this creates a comical wall of faces pressed against the glass from the opposite side. After the 'Enquiry' line, usually 45 minutes, comes the booking line, usually an hour. Carrie and I have found the easiest way to overcome some of this process is by one of us doing the form/enquiry part and the other waiting in the booking line, and therefore finishing the whole process in an hour or so. Unfortunately on this day I got in an exceptionally slow line. We waited two hours. I got to the window and it was break time. I'm feverish. I haven't eaten in three days. I'm dripping sweat. I feel like I’m going to pass out. Waves of nausea and stomach pains. I wait. I'm being stared at. Laughed at. The clock is going slower than physically possible. I'm SO close! the attendant gets back, takes his time, looks at me and says: "line three" I imagine what it would look like from the other side if my head exploded on the plexi glass. "What?" I ask. This is the day we learned there is a special line for tourists in the Guwahati train ticketing station. Actually, much like the ladies line which is for "Ladies and the physically handicapped, it's for Tourists, heart patients, elderly, college students and Tuberculosis patients. OF COURSE! And so we are at a new line. We wait sandwich between sweaty, gawky, shovey, tuberculosis patients waiting to clot at the window and shove our papers in with the rest becoming like a trapped octopus. I feel deathly and ache for a cold water. Carrie holds our spot and I set out. I walk all the way up to the end of the road and back. No water. I walk back up and down just in case. Nope. Then I see the little stand next to the ticketing station. A small fridge. When I get there, as is typical here, there are four or five people working the small booth that fits two. None of them will help me as I shove my way to the counter and hold out my ten rupees. I'm being pressed against the counter and shoved to the side. I hold tight and finally yell out, "Hey! I want mineral water!" Hands protruding from all around my face shaking money, practically, hitting me in the face. One of the men take my money and another comes out from the booth to open the fridge that holds one cold water. I try pushing through the people away from the counter, another man pushes in front of me and takes the water. I get to the guy and ask for my water. He's confused. 'I paid for a water. You gave it to someone else.' He shrugs. In the end I get a hot water that was sitting in the sun as a display.

When I return to the stuffy ticketing area, drinking my hot water and contemplating the risks of using a train station squat toilet I find Carrie in the same place in line. This process takes four hours. I use the toilet after all. We are both defeated. We walk through the heat to our hot hotel room and crash into the beds (with tickets in hand at least!) At two in the morning for some unknown reason, the reception instructs us we must close our windows. Carrie pleads. He's not having it. The cement room holds in our sweaty breaths until we wake at 5am to catch our train.

We hate India.

Our train for Jorhat leaves and after two days of laying (in my feverish bed, in the train berth, in the sauna of a room we just left) or sitting (Trains, rickshaws, share jeeps, busses) and standing in line the whole last day I find it impossibly uncomfortable. We exit the train in Jorahat for a rickshaw that takes us to the ferry terminal to go to the island of Majuhli, the UNESCO world heritage sight and largest river island in the world. Miraculously we get there in time and are led to the correct ferry. Soon two cars are crammed on the end and we are forced to go down into the rickety wooden boat with at least one hundred other passengers. We are packed in, standing, pressed against each other, sweat meeting like rivers. If I move I step on toes precariously jutting from sandals, bump into people who then bump into people. Our bags are on the floor where people are stepping on them, kids are poking them sitting on them, four adults squeeze the pads on the back of mine and seem to be discussing it. Of course everyone is starring at us, laughing etc. An hour later as it's stopping we ask 'Majhuli?' they all shake their heads yes. How could it have worked so easily you ask? It didn't. We were on the wrong side of the island. (Note to self: write both Lonely Planet AND Rough Guide that there are five ferries that all end up at different villages...) Luckily as we were walking up to the bus we meet Paran. Who apparently just fell from heaven to guide us (Do I smell Unlikely Angel two, Dolly? eh?) 'I will help you' He says and leads us to a small half bus that we somehow cram ourselves into arching our backs, bending our knees and lowering our heads so we can stand. The bus is so incredibly packed that in order to get off the bus, a handful of people who are hanging on to the outside of the bus have to let go, four or five people have to get out and the person exiting has to squeeze between people sometimes literally pulling their own leg at the same time. I'm instantly dripping sweat. I haven't eaten still besides a fanta and handful of cookies and two biscuits with peanut butter earlier in the day. And then the gods touched the earth in the form of Paran. 'Don't worry. I will help you, come with me.' The money collector on the bus doesn't speak English and feeling uncomfortable taunts us and rips us off. Paran tells us we'll have to take a taxi twenty kilometers from the last bus stop. If we come to his house he will call someone and see what he can do. He is centering me from having a panic attack. Someone is asking him to ask us something: 'How much is the time difference to the USA?' I tell them. 'He wanted to know if it's true that when it's day in India it is night in the USA.' It's a grown man asking.

Paran and his mother who does not speak English take us to their modest but beautifully decorated, well kept, family home. His father rises from a plastic lawn chair out front and greats us with an honest, beautiful brown smile. His two sisters bring us chai tea and biscuits and a chocolate snack while various cousins and children peak from behind a curtain and watch us with wide eyes, occasionally running off and screaming in Hindi that we are going to steal them. We learn that Paran is an engineer student in Jorahat home for this weekends festival and his sister's wedding. He is honored to host us he tells us, and wants photos and e-mails (are we on myspace? It is a small world...) we talk for a while and find out he's only left the state of Assam once to go to Bangalore for vacation- but he hopes to travel one day. He calls a taxi making sure we don't pay more than 400 rupees. The whole family walks to the taxi and gives us farewells and waves. The driver is playing a Bengali-English Rap rock band. And the day replays in my head in a whole new light. Snippets of movement from outside the train sliding by: Fluorescent sari's trailing like smoke from beautiful women walking on the edge of symmetrical rice fields. Huge strangely shaped cattle bathed in gray mud. A man smoking sits on top of a cow with a pink umbrella watching us watch him from the train. Women on the edges of brown ponds pounding at bright colored cloth . I suddenly understood the laughing, the staring. How bland we must be in our white skins! so proper! Never wanting to touch one another. We don't even know how to properly taunt each other. We are no fun. We can't even find humor in ourselves, big and awkward and overly clean. We are afraid of eye contact even!

So tonight- on Majuli island, as I walked through a night lit bright by half a gibbons moon and flashing with fireflies I fall back in love! Even now while laying on a bed under which the largest cockroach I have ever seen cowers away from me and a spider the size of a small child’s hand clings to the bed and will most likely eat me in the night I am in love. Even earlier when I beat a hissing cockroach that even Carrie will admit was the size of a mans thumb, from Carrie's shoe I was in love. There is a magic in the mess. Some strange beauty in the chaos.

I am finding my place.

And at the sametime finding that ones place is not always constant or defined like a puzzle piece, but rather in constant flux and vague like a drawing that when held up is one image and when turned upside down becomes something vastly different.

A Question of Charity (The World Wants To Be You!)

heartrl — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 16:32:00 GMT

When I was traveling in Cambodia I read that the government had asked people not to give food, money, candy or handouts to street children. Candy for the obvious reason that there is no good health or dental care for people living on the street. The rest because it perpetuates a much worse outcome; parents sending their children into the street to beg instead of taking care of them or worse in Cambodia's case, there were a number of adults who maimed their children so they could make more money when they begged. Here in Kolkata it's hard to go anywhere without seeing beggars, both young and old.
Here is where my dilemma begins. In a country with such a high rate of poverty (27.5% of the population) does 'perpetuating a begging culture' even make sense? I've read a lot of opinions about this. I understand the dangers of creating an ideal that children can be money makers if the parents play it out right. But what then is the right answer?
Carrie and I talked about it for a while and we are both stumped. The government doesn't seem to do much. NGO's don't reach enough of the street population. Volunteering while traveling has recently come under attack as being a band aide cure and due to short stints ends up creating more problems by having less consistency within the NGO. So where do you begin?
On top of that you are talking a bout a country where you can get a meal for 50 cents! When I give a beggar 5 rupies (almost a meal from a street stall) I'm basically giving them 15 cents. 10 rupies and I've given them a quarter. This is in a country where one does not tip for their meals in restaurants. A lot of the arguments seem to me to simply be that travelers find it 'annoying' to have a pack of kids running after them everywhere they go.
I don't feel there is a clear cut answer to this. I try to constantly think about what I do and how it impacts the world and people and culture around me. But I'm at a slight loss here.

Any suggestions?

Heartrl

So Long Farewell...

heartrl — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 16:19:00 GMT

We are finally getting out of here.

Don't get me wrong, I love Kolkata, but our time here has been slightly annoying as things didn't seem to work in our favor much. We had planned to go on to Sunderbaans- fell through; See the Jain temples- closed; Go to some temples about four hours out- didn't; etc. I'm not complaining, it's just been a long time to be in one place, especially a city like Kolkata.
On top of that I fell into a terrible fever yesterday morning (damn my infernal appetite and those damn pickled Mangos!) and spend the day and night rolling around on my bed sweating with a cold rag on my head. It was terrible. I felt like my face and skin were going to melt off. Of course the whole time I knew I had malaria. But I'm feeling somewhat better now. I still have had nothing but a Fanta but at least I got up and walked around. The smells and the heat are intense and difficult to deal with in this sort of state but don't worry, our hero will prevail! I'm not really looking forward to our twenty hour train ride but...
Carrie and I are headed to Assam tonight. IF our plans work out this time we will go to the largest river island in the world and then to a wildlife reserve for a safari. It should be great. I'm looking forward to the reprieve from the city life as well.

SO, farewell Kolkata.
I will never, ever forget you.
heartrl

Kolkata, My new more intense and dramatic love...

heartrl — Sun, 6 Apr 2008 00:18:00 GMT

I seem to never be sure where to begin when I sit down to write. Of course I'm always on the move and only have a bit of time at the computer when I get to use it. It's hard to convey not just the feelings of a place but also the effect of the place and how that theme translates to the journey.
At any rate I find myself at the computer again. So here goes:
Kolkata.
I'm not sure why, but I am in love with this place. This city is fantastical. Almost a representation of how I feel about India as a whole. It's strange to be in a place that conflicts so much of what I believe or feel about humanity as a whole. The streets reek of urine because people relieve them self wherever needed; people bathe in water jutting out from pipes in the side of busy roads or in dirty puddles next to food stalls or bookstores; people sleep on busy streets laying on pads made of posters pulled off the wall; families hollow out houses from piles of trash. I blow my nose and it's black. I feel like I've been smoking packs and packs of cigarettes.
Three of the four nights we have been here there have been insane lightning storms with crashes of lighting, power outages and rain. So much rain. We woke to our room flooded one night, my bag drenched and water pooling around the head of my bed. We just stacked our luggage on the dresser and went back to bed.
Mostly Carrie and I have been getting lost in the crevices and alleyways that crisscross through this labyrinthine puzzle of a city. No map ever seems to get us where we are going but we always end up somewhere interesting. It's hard to explain the things I love here. I have tried and I think the only way I can really sum it up is that humanity is played out here in the open. Life is a book. It may not be a necessarily happy one, but it's open.
The poverty here is extreme. To see beggars on the street dragging themselves. Kids with no clothes. Families living in garbage heaps. These are not things that make a good vacation. I know this. But something about it amazes me. How does this kind of poverty exist? How do we not live like this everywhere?
Why am I so lucky not to live this life?
I don't know the answer.
But with all this poverty there is a layer of kindness in the commotion. A layer of beauty beneath it all.
Why do I see that?
There is something this says about the resilience of humanity. There is deeper sense of culture here, a connectedness.
That said there is a lot that makes me angry here and a lot that makes me think. Think about community and the way I spend my money. Think about family and the connectedness of everything I love.
I want to be better.
And perhaps this is why I love this place so much!

Anyway, as I said, I've mostly been getting lost and wandering and trying strange food on the street. The city doesn't necessarily have a lot to offer as far as sight seeing goes, but we have been to some Jainist temples and walked through many night bazaars and tried to figure out what food is what and talked to a handful of strange but helpful people. We are a bit stuck here in the city right now as we had planned a trip to the Sunderbaans that fell through. Which means that we are here for two extra days before heading to the East again.
A few funny things:
We went to a mall the other day and I paid more for Gummy Bears than I have for any of the nights we've stayed in a hotel!
I Broke my glasses again just before we left Darjeeling. That's the sixth pair in the last three years. I think I am going to start making a tradition of it. Every time I travel a new pair!
Alright, Love your way. I hope everyone is doing well and full of life.
Heartrl

A quick note on India, poverty and space.

heartrl — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 20:15:00 GMT

Something that has been on mind a lot since I arrived here in India is space. The first thing I noticed upon arrival is the way people shove; stand so close they push up against you; pass their bags right in front of your face, sometimes literally hitting you with them; set their children down on your lap; cut in line. At first I thought it must be culturally different, personal space that is. In America we say 'excuse me' for an almost non existent brush against a stranger. This idea of personal space I've found, is not a 'cultural difference', but rather a class difference. I noticed while crammed in a share jeep with fifteen other people, two of which were small children standing or seated on the laps of their parents, a passing jeep of the same size with two Indians, each sitting next to a half open window on opposite sides of the jeep. This is where the difference lies. Money. With money we can afford personal space. In fact, isn't space a good sign of someones wealth? The more money the bigger the car, the more land, the more rooms in a house. While the poor all over the world live in one or two room houses in groups of five or six or more, everything right there, kitchen, bathroom, living room; the rich want an extra room just to watch t.v.

I think of my personal space differently now.

Space is a privilege. And it sets us apart. I honestly believe I will forever feel differently when a stranger bumps into me on the bus, on the street. There is a universal communication between it I believe. I don't own the space around any more than anyone else does. I only own my thoughts and actions.

I believe I am seeing that the more space I have the further I am from everyone else; and that's possibly dangerous. In recent thinking I've come to the belief that individualism is at an extreme right now. We think only of ourselves and what we can do to escape our impact on the world, not how we can change things as a group. I really believe we have to think like a community. Running is no longer the answer, hiding away in our worlds of organic food and farms can't be the answer for the poor. I can afford to feel better about my footprint in the world because I buy local and organic and green, but how can 1 million people pushed together so that I can have personal space translate that? It doesn't translate to the world of the poor.

I don't really know what the answer is, but I know I'm thinking in the right direction... for now!

heartrl

Darjeeling my love...

heartrl — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 19:47:00 GMT

Well-

LONG strange journey for sure. Where to begin... Currently I am BACK in Darjeeling. But I'll start further back than that. New York was great, catching up with Jojo and Lisa and Adam was a blast. I got my first glance at my new apartment. That's correct. I have a room in Williamsburg. Look Mom and Dad, I've committed to something! I will be moving in the second I'm done traveling in August. I'm very excited. I'll be living an a fantastic neighborhood with two great friends.

After New York I flew to Helsinki where I left the airport and paid 9 dollars for an hour of Internet. It turned out to be a good hour though so... Helsinki. EXPENSIVE. Of course I was there last year and loved it so it's the only reason I popped into town from the airport. After that I moved on to Delhi and waited to catch my flight onward to Bagdogra in the North East (West Bengal) Where I met up with Carrie. We moved on from there quickly to Darjeeling. Darjeeling is a beautiful, fantastic 'hillside station' bustling with Bengali tourists and the occassional white guy/girl in full Indian garb wreecking of Patchouli. It's also famed to have the best view of Mount Kanchenjunga, but was too smogy for us to see. I love it! I fell in love with it right away. We spent three days here milling about and rummaging through the bazars and eatting random stuff. We got our permits to enter Sikkim, a region in the North East between Nepal and Tibet/Buhtan. The reason we need to get permits is that it is considered 'dangerous' because China doesn't believe it's part of India but rather it's own territory (OH Silly China!) The morning we woke to head up to Sikkim I didn't feel so well and began to vomit. I deduced it was the small cone shaped pastry filled with cream that I was eatting and refering to as: 'The Cornicopia of Pleasure' but was now calling 'The Devils Claw.' I decided to get on the way anyway and we took our jeep rides to Pelling. First off, the jeep rides take a little getting used to and aren't the quickest transport (to the western mind.) In India a six person jeep is really a 20 person jeep. At one point 24. Not kidding. Durring one of our rides further into Sikkim Carrie and I shared a jeep wtih 17 people, Two large peices of intricate furniture, and a goat. People force themselves into the van sitting on laps sitting sideways however they fit. And these rides are not short. We're talking sometimes 6 hours with a man who smells like three day old liqour, sour clothes, armpit and tabacco pushed on oneside of you and a woman with a saliva driping kid on her lap with one leg over yours. It's amazing. More on that in a moment, for now back to the moment: I'm sick, I've been vomiting all day and we have three of these jeep rides to go. Luckily I had some 'headache remedy' that Katie had sent me and I held out as best as I could. Three and a half hours later I fell into the bed at our place in Pelling and also into a feverish sleep. I was sick the whole night and woke a few times dripping with sweat, and finally woke the next morning feeling better.

Pelling was dull besides being suprised the morning we left with the most amazing view of Katchanjunga. I was able to sit on the roof and watch the sunrise. It was fantastic.

We moved on from there to Lake Katcheperry (sp?) a quite lake with hikes around it that I did.

After that: Back to Darjeeling.

And here we are!

Costa Rica PS

heartrl — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 22:21:00 GMT

I forgot to tell a really funny story in Costa Rica.

Galen and I had to return to our beloved San Isidro from Domincal, so we got up at 6am to catch a bus. At the bus stop a van full of ticos pulled over and asked if we wanted a ride. We said yes.

The funny thing was this van had seats that appeared from nowhere! The wall the floor. The isle we walked down became a seat for the next person they stopped and picked up and it seemed like it never ended! Just when I would think all the seats were full we would pull over and pick someone else up.

About half an hour twenty minutes into the journey there was loud thud under the car and the frightening smell of melting tires (sort of the street fire smell...)

The car coasts a ways with a rhythmic thudding and Galen and I keep looking at each other trying to figure out if this is the part where the van starts on fire and we are trapped in the back by all the seats that have appeared form nowhere.

Soon the driver pulls off the road and asks us all to get out. He drives off. Galen and I ponder what happens next Knowing we could still just walk up to the road and flag down the bus we were planning on catching earlier when it comes by.

Soon the driver returns in a bus marked 'School Bus for Children' (I imagine a small group of elementary kids somewhere sitting by the side of the road...)

We get in.

About twenty minutes later I notice this guy running after the car and the car comes to a sudden stop. The men converse for a second, the car begins to back up almost taking out a motorist and we pull backward down the road until we reach the spot the guy started running at us from. The driver and the three people sitting up front get out and flip the front seat over. Apparently the car is overheating! So they spray water on the engine which fills the whole van with metallic smelling smoke. When we are done the guy who chased the car joins us for the rest of the journey. They somehow create another seat and we take to the road.

Nothing much happened after that.

Gallery: India my love

heartrl — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 21:45:00 GMT

Chirripo-the beach-NYC

heartrl — Sat, 22 Mar 2008 00:13:00 GMT

All right!

Where did I leave off... AH yes. Tick infested, rash covered returning from Corcovado. Galen and I headed strait up from 'Port Jim' in the South West of Costa Rica to a small town we called Rivas (San Gerrardo de Rivas I believe.) It was a beautiful mountain side town with steep windy roads and fog covered trees. The night we arrived we walked down the hill in the complete dark with fireflies flashing around us. It was pretty amazing. The next day we got up early and head out for our 15 mile climb to the summit. Both Galen and I proved to be a little less then organized in a small chain of events that led to a bit of hilarity
I lost my flashlight
we forgot to get money in San Isidro before heading to Rivas which didn't have an ATM
We forgot to bring food, forgot to get food before the store closed once we were there and then had to wait to leave in the morning until the store opened up which put us behind.

But we set off anyway! Packed with crackers and snickers bars. Round trip the hike is about 30 miles half of which is strait up! We hiked from about 5000 feet to 14000. It was amazing! Stark, beautiful, foggy, wet. At the top we didn't have the view of both seas but we did get an amazing view of fog moving it's arms over the lakes and mountains.

The way back down was pretty funny as it got pitch dark and Galen's headlamp was dying and he kept covering my view of the light with... yes HIS UMBER-ELLA. The trail had become soaking wet and muddy and it was pretty hilarious to be slipping and sliding our way along I fell a few times and almost fell off the edge. But we finished. 14 hours of hiking.

HARD CORE.

We moved on from Rivas to Dominical. A touristy town on the Pacific coast and I mostly just stuffed my face and sat on the beach while Galen became a professional surfer. We took a day hike to this place that we thought would have sloths but no luck. Then jogged to a small waterfall not far away.

Then it was back to Alejuella to watch TV and board our plane back to the states. Unfortunately Galen's plane was Canceled and he stay another night in Costa Rica (apparently with Ms. Costa Rica herself... You'll have to ask him about that...)

AND NOW...

I'm in New York! I leave today for India to meet up with Ms. Carrie Schaffner and I can hardly breath I'm so excited.

So that is the quick summary.

I hope everyone is doing well and can't wait to see you all.

It's official as well- I turned down the Antarctic job and will be staying here in New York when I return...

Heartrl

¿hola? (dos)

heartrl — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 02:46:00 GMT

OKAY.

Where to begin...

First off, LAX. Galen and I met up with JaneJo for a glutinous night of Thai food in hopes of catching the Thai Elvis impersonator. Unfortunately we were either late or he didn´t perform that night.

We followed this by meeting up with Julie K. and having a lot of drinks at Kevin´s Bar and some food at a 24 hour restaurant.

Then Galen and I were on our way to Costa Rica! A quick stop over for some BBQ at the Dallas airport and WHAM, we´re taken to the beautiful throbbing heart of downtown Allejela. Our cab driver didn´t seem to know where anything was except hotel internacional. But Galen and I used our super power of tolerance and patience (and perhaps a bit of stubbornness) and didn´t get out of the taxi until we were infront of any hostel he wasn´t trying to convince us to go to! Next morning after a brisk walk through the beautiful morning light cast across the labyrinthine streets of Allejela we set off for the domestic airport to wait three hours to get on a flight in a small commuter plane to the Osa Peninsula in the South West of Costa Rica. A mecca for enviro-crazed tourists. We flew a twin otter like plane into the local airport of Puerto Jimeneze (lovingly referred to as Port Jim by the stupid gringos). As we were landing I couldn´t help but notice the sweeping cemetery located conveniently next to the airstrip. A walk into town was welcomed by White Faced Monkeys in palm trees and a fantastic dinner at a local ´soda´which quickly became our favorite. BTW, those in the know will find this funny- the proprietor LOVED Galen´s around the world with some random girl hat. the one he bought with JaneJo. Like LOVED it. I told him he should have given it to her...

ANYWAY, here are a few things I noticed about Galen-

He likes to find random things and eat them. Or try to. Hence a mishap with a sticky plantain, numb lips from a possible ´lime´and a bit of actual enjoyment from a juicy fruit with the texture of human flesh.
No one here can pronounce his name.
He doesn´t really know Spanish at all.
Ticks don´t like him as much as they do me.
He shaves for a good reason.
All that said we are having a fine time. I wouldn´t trade travel partners for... well...

Anyway- from Puerto Jimenez we headed north to begin our trek across the peninsula through the dense jungles of Corcovado National Park.

Almost immediately after getting off the bus and heading toward the trail head we were picked up by a kindly farmer hauling wood apparently across the whole country as he drove us about five miles into the hike and dropped us 2KM from the first nights camping area. Just as we stepped into the thick forest a growl sounded. This was the beginning of our adventures...

First let me say the Jungle is AMAZING. Literally teeming with life. Even death here has life. Thick pockets of dense shrubbery. Woven threads of hanging vines. Twisted cages of roots. In the first day alone we were witness to Squirl monkeys, sloths, a plethora of butterflies, a kinkajou, Scarlet Macaws, spider monkeys, and fathoms of unnameable plant life. Even the dirt there seemed to be alive. Cutter ants carrying ridiculous amounts of leaves traversing grounds until they wore a path to and from their bounty. We joked that every moment something more was happening all the way up until climbing in our tent and discovering the trees around us were flashing with lightning bugs that seemed more like strobe lights. Even the moon was a sliver in the shape of smile at the end of the day. That was the first ranger station Las Patos where we hiked to a waterfall pool and cooled ourselves. It was already magic. Galen played a little football with the rangers and I watched and laughed.

The next day we woke early and ate our sad excuse for breakfast. We had calculated exactly what we need food wise and ended up with this list:

2 cans Tuna
2 bags precooked beans and salsa
3 carrots
5 avocados
peanut butter (low fat- oops.)
Cookies
rice crispy treats
4 bagels
This is our list for our three day 30 some km hike. It worked.
The second day we set out and saw more wildlife (including holler monkeys) this was a great part of the hike through more dense beautiful greenery. Mid day we stopped at a river and rolled around a bit before seeing our first hiker. We ended up walking the rest of the way to the next campsite with him. This campsite: Sirena is a biology center so there were groups of scientists here and it was much more elaborate and full than the last. Here we were able to see wild Tapirs that were fantastic and strange. Sort of Giant pig like cow things...
They stink, but their cool.
The beach was teeming with crabs and supposedly sharks and crocodiles though we didn´t get to see either of those (if Galen tells you we did he´s a GD liar!)
This is where I first noticed a tick.
That was the beginning of the tick infestation. The next day I found 7 then 8 then 10 then 11... (and now today I found two more. I´m googling Costa Rica, ticks, disease as we speak...) Of course Galen didn´t find any for ever and then 1.. then two... now he´s up to four. I´ll keep you updated.
I digress.
So that night was HOT and the biology students in Costa Rica apparently LOVE to party because they were up clapping and screaming and generally running a muck until the wee hours (and since the sun sets at 6pm the wee hours are something like 9pm).
The night was long either way. We woke up and set out on what turned out to be a grueling walk along the beach in five billion degree heat resonating up from the sand. We cracked open and ate some coconuts on the beach. Watched macaws fight, bitched about how frickin´ hot it was. this is the part of the trip during which I was wrought with exhaustion and happened to mention passing something that looked like a lime. Galen of course forced me to retrace my labored steps to retrieve it for him so he could cut it open and proceed to inform me that it numbed his lips. We also finally learned our new travel partners name (yes, we are so friendly it took two days for either of us to ask his name.)
I practically ran the last 2 KM to the next hut and guzzled two liters of water.
THEN more beach walking. Hot. Pelicans. Hot. A swim in a little water hole. HOT. ridiculously hot. And then we climb up this path to an airstrip. None of us could believe this was the town of Carate but apparently it was.
Is.
Here we waited for the Collectivo which is basically a 4wd truck with a roll cage over it that speeds through rivers and throws you around in the back. We got to watch two Germans in the other truck out the back of ours. This took us back to Port Jim where we ate at our favorite soda and drank beer in the hostel.
Yesterday we took a 7 hour bus to a town called San Isidro where we are waiting to board the bus that will take us to Chirripo, Costa Rica´s Highest mountain. We´re climbing it.

Alright what did I miss... Oh yes, we saw anteaters, a plethora of spiders and butterflies and a tree filled with hundreds of white birds.

And now you are up to date. I can´t seem to upload my photos at the moment but I promise too very soon and you won´t be disappointed. I´ve got some good ones. Hope all is well, Love your way.
heartrl

¿hola?

heartrl — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 04:09:00 GMT

keep watching for travel updates!

i am in the southwest of costa rica osa penninsula, it{s remote and beautiful and i don{t have time right now to write.

i just got back from a four day hike through the jungle. heading out for another two day hike.

costa rica is amazing!

this keyboard sucks.

Two nights in LA

heartrl — Wed, 5 Mar 2008 14:18:00 GMT

Here in LA for two days staying at my friends place in Silver Lake. The last days in New Zealand were fantastic as expected. Played a lot of Ooh La La, drank, saw a bad movie. Enjoyed my time with friends. The flight back was uneventful minus some funny moments of elderly people stretching in front of us and using Paul's TV screen as a walking stick... LA has been fun. Kicking around town with Kevin, went on a hike in one of the parks here, at WAY too much Korean BBQ Slept in until 12. The most fun is hanging out with Bebel who really likes Galen a lot and calls him Janet Reno. We woke up to her screaming 'NO BLOOD FOR OIL' this morning. Tonight we are going to see the Thai Elvis and meet up with a few friends from the Ice. Leave tomorrow for Costa Rica. Can't wait. Hope everyone is well. heartrl

Gallery: LAX

heartrl — Tue, 4 Mar 2008 13:45:00 GMT

Stop over on the way

EnZed

heartrl — Fri, 29 Feb 2008 08:56:00 GMT

Well.

I got out.

I lost my wallet and all the cash therein. :(

My first night in New Zealand I was booked into Hotel So http://www.hotelso.co.nz/Rooms/Double This hotel is strait out of 'The Island' I felt like I was supposed to be escaping from this futuristic prison cell. The shower could be lit in any color I wanted! So I took two. One orange and one purple. Purple is way better. I ended up getting screwed by the travel people (who also messed up three other friends itineraries.) and the Indian Embassy is basically useless. After five e-mails asking the same question in as many ways as I possibly could I still didn't get an answer that made any sense and when I tried to call they told me I had to come in, but that I couldn't get my Visa in less than a week. Lame. SO I rented a car with my friends Jenn and James and we drove to Wanaka via the long West Coast route. The road trip was fun-tastic and we passed through two Glaciers (it's pronounced: GlassEars here in enzed.) I will post pictures asap as they are amazing. The best part of the road trip was running out of gas in a town whose gas station closes at 5!! We had to coast thirty miles with our teeth clenched and the car jerking but we finally made it in. We stayed the night in Hokatika a small ocean side town where we were convinced by this hippie to come to his movie theatre and watch 'Control'. First off, the movie theatre was this old garage and he had all these hideous leather couches set up in front of this big screen. He was this hairy shoeless guy who ended up watching the film with us. He talked through out. He said the fact that Anton Corbin filmed it in black and white gave it artistic merrit. For the record the film sucks. It's like a bad Hemingway novel where no one feels anything and you don't connect to anyone and don't even really care about anyone. I was just waiting for him to finally kill himself so I could peel myself off the leather couch and get the hell out of there.

That said the town was cute and quaint and I had a great time with Jenn and James. We went into the woods and found glow worms! It was amazing, like walking through the stars.

Now I'm at a house in Wanaka. Yesterday I got a sunburn kayaking to this random island and felt my feet sink into sand and a chilled breeze on my skin. Antarctica feels like years ago. Maybe it is.

The house I'm staying at is filled with Antarcticans, mostly DA's and it's funny to listen to them talk about Antarctica. Some are going back some 'will never.' It's funny how our experiences are so relative. How I can feel so much for a place and have such conflicting emotions toward it. One of these days when I have time I will set out a more articulate version of Antarctica. For now, It's time to leave the computer and enjoy the world around me.

I hope all is well.

Big love all around.

heartrl

Gallery: New Zealand

heartrl — Sun, 24 Feb 2008 13:45:00 GMT

8 days

GET IT??

heartrl — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 13:15:00 GMT

It's a sick sick joke.

The universe is throwing some pretty low punches.

I drempt last night that I started crying when my plane was cancelled today and my boss took back my bonus. I literally had to pull the cash out of my pocket and hand it to her while I was weeping.

I really want to leave.

Boo.

heartrl — Fri, 22 Feb 2008 07:44:00 GMT

Looks like I spoke too soon.

Now I really hate this place.

24 hour plane delay.

Antarctica Season 3: Season Finale-FINALLY!

heartrl — Thu, 21 Feb 2008 18:08:00 GMT

WELL another year down.

I'm surprised as you are to find me here. I've had many a drunken rant with Galen about my deep hatred for the 'blog' and yet... and yet...

But I get it now. I love all my friends and family and I want to keep in touch and this can be an outlet for me to express my love while informing on my adventures and thus cutting past the chit-chat to the real dirt of life and living. Hopefully.

This year I stood on my head in an Historic Heritage site; slid down a piece of glacier; rode a snowmobile in storm with 30 feet visibility; met three people who have changed my life; danced; danced; danced; was confined to my room with the flu for five days; thawed thousands of pounds of beef knuckle, pork shoulder butt, and beef trout; carried millions (I know you don't believe me but it's true) of pounds of goods into and out of the galley; visited a penguin colony (twice!); made out indiscriminately (in a good way!); cried a few times; participated in an amature strip show; did karaoke as often as possible; missed a lot of people; ran a marathon; drank a lot; watched two seasons of the TV show weeds; never once entered the kiwi base even though it's only a mile away; played in a band; ran amok in a santa suite; hiked a lot; ran a ton; danced; threw parties at the bar while bartending; took photos for the new york times; danced in the bowling alley, three bars, hut 10 in a couple rooms, at the BFC; in a few lobbies...

and here I am, February 21st 2008 (remember, I'm writing from the future! You are all still in February 20th. But don't worry, I will be returning to the past in order to be with you...) and I leave tomorrow.

Possibly early enough that I will get into Christchurch with enough time to get rid of all my Antarctic gear and get into town with enough time to see the sunset while drinking a nice earthy red wine in the courtyard of a 1800's college.

TOMORROW. It really couldn't come quick enough. All I have heard from my departing friends for the last month is how fast this month will go by. Unfortunately my friends either have no idea what they are talking about or they are all a bunch of liars.

I pray for the former. This has been one of the longest months I've lived through since last February. So why do I keep coming to Antarctica?

Why would I torture myself for 1 whole month every year?

I revisit this question often. Ask me in five months when I've been jobless and traveling and I will have a completely different answer I'm sure.

Sometimes I think it's because I'm ADD. Sometimes it's for the travel. Whatever I discover it to be it's something that runs so deep and is so powerful that I give up my morals and work for an evil corporation; I leave behind my friends and spend my year either saying goodbye to someone or missing them; it keeps me away from my family; it makes one whole month of my life stressful and miserable. But it also allows me to see the world; to learn a ton about myself and what's important and beautiful to me; it gives me the opportunity to meet some amazing people and experience the majestic landscape and wildlife of this barren place. Honestly I don't know if any of it evens out, or if there is really even a possible scale for this kind of thing. I think we sacrifice and we learn and we live.

And now it's time to live again!

I'm like some snowbird version of a phoenix! I'm rising from the frozen tundra and I'm happy again! I was scheduled to leave on the 23rd and the last two flights have been delayed. I was miserable for two days, sulking and bored. So what did I do? Called 'passenger services' and asked them to put me on an earlier flight. Somehow it worked. I leave tomorrow and like everyone else I'm looking forward to green grass and little kids and animals and good food and all of that, what I am really looking forward to is quality time with my friends that I am meeting up with, cultural experiences around the world, seeing new places, NOT WORKING FOR 6 MONTHS!

Perhaps it's not the wisest thing in the world to whittle away at my bank account until I'm broke and then come back to the bottom of the world to slave away and miss everyone I love and be constantly in flux and challenged- but I know that it makes me incredibly happy! I know that I compromise part of who I am coming here, but as Americans I think we are constantly compromising who we are and perhaps that's the point in this strange and fantastical world.

I know that I am doing what I want right now and will continue to.

SO now that I've gotten that all out here is a quick update of where I am, where I will be and what not:

Tomorrow I leave. I will be in New Zealand trying my best to get an Indian Visa in as little time as humanly possible and hopefully saving myself from having to change my tickets in order to get the visa. I was given some incorrect information by a travel agent and have found myself pressed for time on a visa that apparently takes quite some time. We'll see how that goes...

Unfortunately that will be the whole of my trip this year- taking care of the visa, because I only have one week in New Zealand and I've planned a little poorly.

Cest la vie.

Next I am traveling with a fantastically amazing friend that I met on the ice this year. I'm really looking forward to traveling with him as he's one of the funniest and most inspiring people I have met in a long time (and ladies... he's single! I think... at least he was...) I'll be spending two weeks in Costa Rica, itinerary unknown but promised to be adventure filled and entertaining.

Two weeks will not be enough!

Next I am on to meet up with another wonderful friend from the ice and join her in her adventures in India. Currently she is in Kolkata working with impoverished, underprivileged and homeless children. She's amazing and beautiful and inspiring and ridiculously wonderful. I can't wait! We will be traveling in the North East together and then make our way to the North West to meet up with a good friend of mine from the states. I realized that her and I are truly 'old friends' as it's been 9 years this year since we met!

Again, the itinerary is up in the air but will prove to be another brilliant adventure.

Next I will move on to East Africa- Currently I am flying into Nairobi and as things seem to be settling down I believe that will stay the same. There I am meeting up with Paul and (yes) another wonderful friend from the ice. This adventure I think will be the most ridiculous of all as the three of us tend to keep things over the top!

Looking back on that summary I've proven that I am surrounded by astounding people who I love deeply who are adventurous and best of all FUNNY!

OKAY,

I will try to update this as often as I can and if you want to keep up with me please do and if not that's fine to. We'll catch up next time I'm in town.

Take care and keep love, adventure and kindness close to your heart.

heartrl

Gallery: Antarctica

heartrl — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 07:03:00 GMT

Third year working at McMurdo Base