North Dakota, fur sure, you betcha

All right, you've guessed it, I'm not in Aruba anymore. I am in Mandan, North Dakota. Oh for nice.

I flew from Aruba to Venezuela to Chicago. I was so excited to return to the States I got a little too tipsy on little red wines with the 60-year-old Venezuelan woman sitting next to me. She was celebrating Chavez's defeat in elections the day before, the Venezuelan people actually voted down his socialist constitutional changes, WOW! It was peaceful, no riots, and the president took it well. Though they say he is planning new elections.

It snowed in Chicago, and even more in Milwaukee. Then it snowed more in Milwaukee. And then a couple more times in Milwaukee. I was the only person in the state who was happy about this, it was wonderful to see all the family and be able to shovel snow together.

As soon as I returned to my hometown my boyfriend "Ravioli" came for a visit. It was his first time in the United States of America and the poor thing comes to Bismarck, North Dakota. People are nice, oh yeah, for sure. You betcha. The difficult thing was explaining HIM, he looks Japanese, speaks Spanish...but he smiled a lot and got along just fine.

As per American tradition, we tried to fatten Ravioli up as much as physically possible on cookies, snacks, Christmas food, Taco Bell, all-you-can-eat buffets, and of course my favorite A&B Pizza. We took him to all three A&B locations so he could decide for himself which one made the best taco pizza. He loved the visit, hopefully because he got to see me and not as much because of the food. He didn't gain too much weight; I did.

After Christmas we drove to Montana for snowboarding and Yellowstone. On his last night Sister Sam and her hubbie and friends took us to a real cowboy bar, the Lonesome Dove, with a real cowboy band. They said it would be a crazy experience but I kind of thought it was like all the other bars in the area. We had fun watching Sam try to teach Ravioli the two-step. The day I took him to the airport to say goodbye (sniffle) we found out his flight had been cancelled and he couldn't leave until the next day. I swear we were the only happy people in line.

Ravioli has since left and I have dedicated my time to composing heart-warming compositions for graduate school applications and entertaining Mom's farting bulldog, Irma. The plan is to visit Seattle in Feb., travel a few months this year, visit Japan for a few months, and then hopefully start school in August. Fingers crossed!

Whoa---can't believe I'm in Aruba!

I spent my last 24 hours in buses rushing across the country to try my luck at getting a seat to Aruba (Dutch Carribean tropical island for those who don't know what an Aruba is). The planes were all totally sold out so I showed up at the airport and got on the waiting list. And guess what, I'm HERE! It was so unexpected that Ani my friend doesn't even know I'm here yet---whoops. I'm waiting for her to check her messages on the answering machine.

I had my first full-body search at the airport. It was very unpleasant. The plane was an old propellor job but the flight was only 15 minutes so I could handle it. All the Latinos on the plane (most passengers) were repeatedly doing the sign of the cross praying for their lives.

I got myself an Arubian CELL PHONE! Please call me! I will publicly present my phone number because 1) it is only for a week (until the 29th), 2) I don't have to pay for incoming calls, and 3) I have my ringer set to "rooster" and really want to hear it crow.

011-297-567-5962

So far Aruba is modern, looks more like home with some colonial stuff mixed in (a la New Orleans) . There's a Cinnibon at the airport (probably spelled wrong but don't want to get spammed checking for the correct spelling). I haven't seen the beaches yet. Have no idea what language to use, people speak Dutch, Papiamento (the native language), English and Spanish. They have this cool square coin worth 50 Florins. Don't know how much that is yet.

I'm excited to be here, but can't wait to be home and see everyone!

Colombia to Venezuela, sooo much to say!

Kyaaaaaa! Where do I start...?
After my tranquilidad in the coffee region it was time to head to the big cities. Or you could say, it was time to get rained on in another location.

Medellin
I fell in love with Medellin within the first half hour---nice people, veggie restaurants galore, free internet at the hostel, cool parks surrounded by coffee shops, and a metro system that includes a TRAM up a mountain, how can it get better than this? A friend I met in the hostel convinced me to go to a yoga class at the Hare Krishna center where I ended up repeating chants from the Bhagavad Vita in some Hindi language while contorting into positions that my muscles regretted for an entire week later. But it was worth the veggie lasagna afterward.

This is a METRO line!
Cartagena
I haven't seen such rain since my last typhoon in Japan. Holy RAIN! The hurricane over the Caribbean made the normally clear blue water splash brown onto the sidewalks of the city, with huge sections flooded and the streets resembling rivers at times. I had a "posh" $10/night hotel room with cable TV and caught up on my CSIs in the meantime. The colonial part of the city is just gorgeous, enclosed by a 500 year-old fortress. You can just imagine pirates waiting to storm the city. And I found the most delicious pizza served in the park...yum!

Cartagena fruit vendors

Cartagena old townAn hour outside of town is the coolest volcano with a crater 200 meters/yards full of nothing but mud. I took a mud bath and it was so weird, you cannot touch the bottom obviously, but you cannot sink, either. The mud keeps you afloat to your chest. Sometimes you can feel little rocks and air bubble up from the volcano. I wished I had one of these in my backyard.
Santa Marta/Taganga
I found Santa Marta to be the sweltering armpit of the Caribbean full of creepy catcalling ignorantes and rude women (I really hated it, nearly had a nervous breakdown at the money changer)---but the nearby fishing village of Taganga where I stayed was great. I went diving for three days in perfectly calm water with perfect weather, ahhhhhhh. Even the fish were chilled out here.

Crossing into Venezuela, Merida and Los Llanos
20 hours by bus brought me across the border, through oil-rich Maracaibo and into the mountain town of Merida. I wanted to go to Los Llanos, the "Serengeti of South America" according to the Lonely Planet.

Los Llanos is a huge grassland full of cattle and wildlife. In my three days there I saw hundreds of species of birds, caymans, an anaconda, capibara (the world's largest rodent), an anteater, and hoards of mosquitoes. Just loved it.

The funny thing is, with all the cattle around, it is impossible to buy milk in Venezuela. Chavez is fighting with dairy farmers and you can't even find powdered milk anywhere. I was ready to grab a cow and start milking for my morning cafe con leche (I love my coffee with milk). I kind of admire Chavez for standing up to the likes of my government, but here in Venezuela he's creeping me out. There is propaganda everywhere. He's wearing red and looking very revolutionary. They are going to vote Dec. 2nd whether to give Chavez more freedom to create a socialist state and extent his right to power (by constitution he can only serve two terms), and most people here agree that the results will be rigged. I only hope I am not seeing a Venezuela now that will never be again. Sorry, political rant. Next paragraph...

My tour was in a big bulky Toyota Landrover, but you wouldn't believe the price of gas here! A 15 gallon fill (58.76 liters) cost a total of about US$1.25---I shit you not. If you ever wondered whatever happened to all the huge gas-guzzling Chevy Impalas et al from the 80's, well, they're all here in Venezuela. Even taxis are huge and old. Who cares about miles per gallon when you can fill your whole tank for the price of a can of 3.2 beer?

Puerto Ordaz and Uri's house
From Merida I called my old friend Uri whom I lived with in Buenos Aires years ago. She's originally from Venezuela and though she works on fancy cruise ships she was going to be in town (well, in the country) to meet up. I found out she had a schedule change and only three more days in Venezuela!!! So I caught the next bus across the nation (20 hours, empty and cushy bus, $18---don't you just love cheap gas!) and am now at her house in Puerto Ordaz. It's so nice to catch up, it's been seven years but it feels like I just saw her yesterday!

I don't know what the next plan will be. Maybe Angel Falls? Isla Margarita? Los Roques if I can afford it. Definitely Aruba. I only have two more weeks before my flight to the States so will try to squeeze as much in as possible.

In the meantime I am getting very excited for my traditional American candy bar binge at the first airport I arrive to, then to seeing everyone! Soon!

The life of a coffee bean (Sam's supposedly secret birthday present)

Colombia, home of some of the world's finest coffee. I wouldn't be able to even fathom writing this blog entry at 8 am (current time) on a Tues. morning without a hearty dose of the stuff, ahhhhhh. Colombians call black coffee with sugar "tinto", which in other countries means red wine, but I'll take either meaning of the word any time. In honor of the hard working coffee growers everywhere, and to make my sister Sam's cheap birthday present seem more special, I will attempt to blog on how it's grown.

I stayed in the coffee growing region in a town called Salento for about a week. It was a lush green hilly place where cows mooed you awake in the morning and where buckets of rain tend to splash down in the afternoon. One morning the sun came out and I took a little walk down to Don Elias' coffee plantation.

Don Elias looks exactly like the guy in the pictures you see on coffee packaging. He wears the typical hat, has the mustache, and owns his own little organic coffee farm full of banana trees and pineapple plants. He gave me a tour with his beautiful granddaughter. They apparently don't own a digital camera because she liked to pose for pictures and asked to see them later, giggling with delight. She was so darn cute.

First you grab a basket and pick the beans. Some beans are red when they are ripe, some yellow. Don Elias mixes the different kinds, saying they all taste the same. I've heard some are purple too, and the mix looks like Skittles on trees, but Don Elias didn't have any purple ones. He says the banana trees keep the beans from getting too much sunlight.

The beans are put through this contraption that separates the beans from the skins. At this time the beans are white and still covered with a sweet film.

The beans are dried out in the sun for, uh oh, I forget how many days...a week? The sweet film dries and comes off, er, somehow.

When the beans have thoroughly dried, Don Elias toasts them on the stove. This is when they turn black. When ready for a cup of coffee, you grind them...

and Viola! Don Elias doesn't have gas, so he had his grandson start a fire on their wood burning stove for the water.

The granddaughter and her cousin were singing along to Shakira songs while I sipped the best coffee I've ever tasted. I bought a couple bags for Sam's birthday to complement an apparently "surprise" other present from mom that Sam picked out. They were toasted just the day before. I took them to the post office today in Medellin but they were rejected. Hmmm, I might have to try my luck in customs...they might end up being a Christmas present---fingers crossed nothing gets confiscated!

In the meantime, my backpack smells goooooood...!

Alive and wired in Colombia

I tried hiding it at first. When mom and dad asked where I was heading to next, I said "north to Venezuela", banking on noone knowing their South American geography. I was going to write nice neutral entries on food or salsa dancing in the meantime. But they found me out.

I did find the coolest Colombian snack--- NESTLE Can Can Pops, ¡explota en la boca! Or as the English translation on the back of the wrapper says, "Explode!" Do we have these in the States? They actually put Pop Rocks into the cream of the cookies. I had 8 hours on a bus from Popayan to San Agustin to master the art of getting them to pop the loudest. You can't just eat the cookie, no no, that won't work. You have to do it Oreo style (you do eat them how you're supposed to, don't you?) by pulling the cookies apart very carefully and scraping the cream frosting off with your top front teeth like a beaver. Here's the trick, you have to let the cream melt in your mouth until you feel the Pop Rocks start to sizzle, wait a little longer and---CRACK! I personally think they should put Pop Rocks into everything.

But I suppose you might want to know something about Colombia. First important traveller's fact, the coffee here is to die for! (no pun intended, parents) I haven't seen a single jar of Nescafe since crossing the border, and hence am the happiest girl around (and haven't been this awake for ages---weeeeeeEEEeEE!!) Coffee vendors walk their hoods with big metal barrels strapped to their backs to be able to supply glossy-eyed addicts on the streets with their fix as swiftly and economically as possible. I will have to get a picture of one of them, it's great.

Anyway, the first city I visited was the border town of Ipiales. Very ugly city, but very nice, courteous people. 5 miles out of town is the Sanctuary of the Virgin of Las Lajas, a religious and architectural treasure:

8 hours later I was in Popayan, a colonial town all painted in white. Here I visited the History of Natural Sciences, a hilarious display of taxidermified creatures in intriguing poses. Here they actually had to turn the lights on for me since I was the only visitor. I especially liked the fish, did you know they could preserve them like that? Pretty weird.

Downtown Popayan

Then again 8 hours later I arrived in San Agustin, famous for its pre-Colombian archeological site. I stayed at the "Casa del Sol" in my own little cabin with the most amazing view of the countryside for $7 a night. I loved this place.

An 11 hour bus-ride later took me to Bogota. Have you noticed a reoccurring theme of long buses? It's a big country...and I now really hate buses. More than before. Especially because I have to take only day buses for "safety" and am fully awake to truly feel the hours, no, minutes slowly tick by. But at least they don't drive like the suicidal maniacs of Ecuador and Peru.

It rained, then hailed and flooded all of downtown Bogota today, but I managed to make it to the Museo de Oro, Gold Museum.

Looks like a scene from StargateI wonder if they have people posing behind lights? That's how people in Colombia used to dress before the Spanish robbed them of their treasure. I'm sure they must have worn something under the gold, I hope.

Not the most exciting entry, but I'm trying to complete it before dark. Will update again in a few weeks!

Galapagos

For fear of overusing words such as "amazing" or "awesome", I will limit my Galapagos entry to mostly pictures. (Hope it's not too heavy...) To start, here is one of my favorites:See it? See it? I took this picture while snorkelling, a friend from the cruise lent me his underwater camera---it's a hammerhead shark! If that picture doesn't stimulate your optical nerves, here are some that I hope might...

Very handsome land iguana, Santa Fe island Marine iguana soaking up the sun, Española island, Suarez Point

Marina iguanas, Española island, Gardner BeachSea lions are a constant presense, this pic is from Santa Fe island

Young sea lions playing (or fighting?)

Lava lizard resting on sea lion, Bartolome islandRed footed Boobie, Genovesa island

Red footed boobie chickBlue footed boobies doing famous mating dance

Blue footed boobie feet

Nasca boobie with chick

Majestic frigate bird males showing off their creepy red sacks

Frigate bird chick, awwwww

Galapagos penguins going for a dipGiant land tortoises at the Charles Darwin research and breeding center The Guantanamera cruise ship (L), My cruise group (R)

Bartolome island at sunsetTaking in more volcanoes at Isabela islandLeaving the Galapagos, boo hoo

If that's not enough pictures for you, don't worry, next time you see me you will be subjected to 500 or so more. It was amazing. Truly awesome.

Volunteering in the Cloud Forest

So you ask, what exactly is a cloud forest? A cloud forest, my friends, is a forest full of clouds. Or at least that was my full knowledge of cloud forests before accepting a three week volunteer position in one.

I just came back to Quito after a week of volunteer activity to first let you all know there is NO INTERNET in the cloud forest. None what-so-ever. E-mails to the cloud forest reserve are printed in the office in Quito, then sent in daily envelope deliveries by car. Replies are hand-written and sent in envelopes back by car to be typed up and e-mailed from the main office. I decided to deliver myself to Quito's internet cafe instead. For a day, anyway. Besides, had to get my 4th rabies shot.

My volunteer experience so far has been wonderful. I have my own room in a basic hut a half hour walk uphill from the main reserve. I sleep to nothing but the sound of crickets (and sometimes mice). No blaring TVs, no car alarms, no muffler-less hotrods, no discotecas or laughing or fighting in the street. To me, after 8 months of hostel dormitories and noise-loving latinos, this is sheer heaven. I wake up every morning at 6am to a woodpecker that loves imitating jackhammers on the hut roof, and I love him, too! I work and eat with a wonderful group of about 15 Ecuadorians and Colombians who have been treating me as a part of the group and as a friend from the beginning.

My home in the woods
My "work" so far has been painting trail markers and sometimes hacking away at the vegetation clearing trails. A new volunteer from England has recently arrived and we will be working on a project to set up a garden of local medicinal plants.

My work
So far I am very happy and look forward to my next two weeks at the reserve.

Oh yeah, so what is a cloud forest? In this case it is a forest between the Andes mountains and the Pacific where the collision of the Humbolt and warmer northern ocean currents push precipitation inland, which gets kind of stuck here. Mornings are sunny and afternoons are shrouded in fog. The birds LOVE it, there are at least 20 native species of hummingbirds, and bird-loving freaks come from all over the world to see them. I have recently been trying to identify them and memorize their impossible names. The Green Violet-ear, the Tawny-bellied Hermit, and the Fawn Breasted Brilliant are just a few hummingbird names that I think I finally remember correctly. (or was is the Fawn CHESTED Brilliant...or the Violet Green-Ear??) There are tons of other birds and lots of other funky things like leaf-imitating bugs and tarantulas crossing the street. Plant life is amazing, bromeliads and orchids everywhere.

Hummingbirds: The Banded Inca (R) and Buff-Tailed Something-or-other (L)
The only downfall to the situation is that going anywhere requires a lung-busting climb or muddy toe-smashing descent, sometimes twice. I have sworn many times this week to make darn sure the next time I volunteer will be at a place with a FLAT terrain. After my second day of hiking I actually had trouble sleeping because my butt-muscles were so sore.

So I will be out of touch for the next two weeks, but alive and well, don't worry. Will get back to everyone as soon as I'm back!