Now that I'm home, that will be the end of this blog. I could continue writing about my daily life in Mill Hall, but I think I would get bored writing it, let alone reading it.
I honestly thought no one would still be reading after week 3, so thank you to those of you who are still with me. Also thanks to everyone for your thoughts, prayers, letters, postcards, care packages, email, and happy mail that got me through one incredible experience.
I'm still uploading photos from the end of my travels. I'll also be tweaking some of my previous photos, now that I have that kind of technology.
Muchas gracias and haste luege.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
South America: In Retrospect
I'm not quite sure how to sum up the last 9 months in one post, but I'm going to try. I know I'll think of other things to add long after I publish this post. But where to begin?
9 months and 6 countries. My passport is very nearly full. Only one page left. There are not many things more satisfying than a customs official searching through your passport, looking for a blank space to place his mark. But I collected so much more than stamps in a passport.
I learned more in these last 9 months than I ever have. I learned that some vegetables are not all bad, but that guinea pig definitely is. I learned alpaca burgers are one delicious meat, and that Argentines and Uruguayans know beef better than anyone else. I kind of learned the difference between ser and estar, but I never did figure out when to use por and para. I just pick one. I learned the real reason why you use "much" and not "many" and vice versa, as well as when to use the present perfect instead of the simple past tense. I learned how to salsa, but only kind of how to tango. And much, much more.
I also met more people this year than any previous years. I met some funny people, I met boring people, I met people I wish I hadn't, I met people I couldn't have lived without, I met people I forgot about the next day, I met people I won't ever forget.
People have been asking me what my favorite place I visited was, and I don't know how on earth I'm supposed to pick one. Of the countries I visited, I am and always will be the most loyal to Peru; it was my home for 6 months. One of these countries, Bolivia, is sadly on the brink of Civil War. The Peace Corps has gone so far as to evacuate all their workers. Lucky I got there when I did. Instead of picking one favorite, why don't I make a "best of" and "worst of" list. It's what everyone else does at the end of the year, so I'll do it for the end of my trip.
Best experience: teaching
Best flag: Cusco
Worst accent: Chile, I can't understand a word anyone said.
Best food: Argentina, no contest.
Worst meal: Cuy, no contest.
Best Amazing Race moment: Random Peruvian woman racing Peter and I to the bank.
Worst roommate: Templeton
Best Hike: The Inca Trail, obviously.
Best Island: Easter
Worst Name: Um, Hitler anyone?
Best Natural Wonder: This is a tough call. How do you choose between the Amazon, Lake Titicaca, and Iguazu Falls? I think I have to give it to Iguazu in a nail-biter, if only for the rainbows.
Best Moment Involving a Piece of Fruit: Feeding a banana to a monkey in the Amazon.
Worst Moment Involving a Piece of Fruit: Laying a banana peel out on the beach of Easter Island as a diversion for the flies. That was kinda gross.
Best weekend trip: Mindo, in Ecuador
Worst bus ride: Tres Cruces back to Cusco. Thought for sure I would lose my lunch.
Best dance: Salsa.
Best city: Buenos Aires
Since I've been home, I've had a few adjustments to make. I wouldn't think I would ever have to adjust to the ability to throw toilet paper in the toilet, and yet, that's been one of the hardest things to remember. It's also a bizarre thing to hear English conversations happening around me, as well as speaking English to waiters or store clerks. I have to stop myself from kissing people on the cheek when I see them so as not to seem alien. Shaking hands seems so stuffy.
What are the chances that I will go abroad for an extended period of time again? Very, very good.
9 months and 6 countries. My passport is very nearly full. Only one page left. There are not many things more satisfying than a customs official searching through your passport, looking for a blank space to place his mark. But I collected so much more than stamps in a passport.
I learned more in these last 9 months than I ever have. I learned that some vegetables are not all bad, but that guinea pig definitely is. I learned alpaca burgers are one delicious meat, and that Argentines and Uruguayans know beef better than anyone else. I kind of learned the difference between ser and estar, but I never did figure out when to use por and para. I just pick one. I learned the real reason why you use "much" and not "many" and vice versa, as well as when to use the present perfect instead of the simple past tense. I learned how to salsa, but only kind of how to tango. And much, much more.
I also met more people this year than any previous years. I met some funny people, I met boring people, I met people I wish I hadn't, I met people I couldn't have lived without, I met people I forgot about the next day, I met people I won't ever forget.
People have been asking me what my favorite place I visited was, and I don't know how on earth I'm supposed to pick one. Of the countries I visited, I am and always will be the most loyal to Peru; it was my home for 6 months. One of these countries, Bolivia, is sadly on the brink of Civil War. The Peace Corps has gone so far as to evacuate all their workers. Lucky I got there when I did. Instead of picking one favorite, why don't I make a "best of" and "worst of" list. It's what everyone else does at the end of the year, so I'll do it for the end of my trip.
Best experience: teaching
Best flag: Cusco
Worst accent: Chile, I can't understand a word anyone said.
Best food: Argentina, no contest.
Worst meal: Cuy, no contest.
Best Amazing Race moment: Random Peruvian woman racing Peter and I to the bank.
Worst roommate: Templeton
Best Hike: The Inca Trail, obviously.
Best Island: Easter
Worst Name: Um, Hitler anyone?
Best Natural Wonder: This is a tough call. How do you choose between the Amazon, Lake Titicaca, and Iguazu Falls? I think I have to give it to Iguazu in a nail-biter, if only for the rainbows.
Best Moment Involving a Piece of Fruit: Feeding a banana to a monkey in the Amazon.
Worst Moment Involving a Piece of Fruit: Laying a banana peel out on the beach of Easter Island as a diversion for the flies. That was kinda gross.
Best weekend trip: Mindo, in Ecuador
Worst bus ride: Tres Cruces back to Cusco. Thought for sure I would lose my lunch.
Best dance: Salsa.
Best city: Buenos Aires
Since I've been home, I've had a few adjustments to make. I wouldn't think I would ever have to adjust to the ability to throw toilet paper in the toilet, and yet, that's been one of the hardest things to remember. It's also a bizarre thing to hear English conversations happening around me, as well as speaking English to waiters or store clerks. I have to stop myself from kissing people on the cheek when I see them so as not to seem alien. Shaking hands seems so stuffy.
What are the chances that I will go abroad for an extended period of time again? Very, very good.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The long, long, long journey home
I arrived at the airport on Thursday morning just after 4am, having not been to bed yet. I can honestly say that was a day I was not at all looking forward to. Not because I didn't want to go, but because of how long it was going to take to get there. On Tuesday night, I had had a dream where Holli showed up in Buenos Aires to give me my birthday gift- a copy of Stephenie Meyers' Breaking Dawn, which I have been dying to get my hands on- so that I would have something awesome to read while I sat and sat and sat on airplanes and airports and more airplanes and airports. Sadly, this did not happen in real life. Instead, I found a copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on the book exchange shelf in the hostel. I know I've already read it twice, but it's big and fat and downright entertaining.
When I arrived in Lima, I was happy to discover that my Spanish had improved just by changing location. I had a 50 sole note in my wallet, so I headed to a gift shop to use it up. I had no problems communicating with the store clerk, who kept adding up my purchases and telling me what else I could get with my leftover soles. He even told me my Spanish was very good and asked had I been in Peru long? Ha. You have no idea.
Then I flew to San Jose, Costa Rica, where I waited an excruciating 6 hours. Actually, I was thinking that it didn't seem so bad, until I got to those last 2 hours. Then I wasn't really sure if I could take it anymore. But Harry got me through, and I boarded the plane without losing my head.
I got extremely lucky on my last flight. I was the only one in my row of three seats, so as soon as I ate my meal, I stretched out across all three seats and actually managed to get some sleep.
The plane landed on time at 2:30am. True to reputation, everyone in the New York airport was rude to me. I didn't want to be there at 3am either, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Things improved drastically when I got to Alison's apartment. She had an air mattress all ready for me.
I spent Friday in Manhattan. My first stop was Serendipity's for a Frozen Hot Chocolate. The most amusing part of my day was when the woman at the table next to me asked the bus boy "Isn't this supposed to be hot?" The bus boy looked at her as if she had three heads and just walked away. She kept asking this question to her friend/sister/traveling partner, who was wearing a matching pink jogging suit, so I decided to speak up. I asked her if she had ordered the hot chocolate or the frozen hot chocolate, and she replied that she had ordered the frozen variety.
"Right," I said, "It's frozen."
"But why do they call it a hot chocolate? This is just a milkshake."
"No, there's no ice cream in it. It's a hot chocolate with ice."
"Well, I don't understand why it's called a hot chocolate."
"Have you ever heard of an iced coffee? It's like that, only way better."
"Oh."
Then the waiter appeared. "Isn't this supposed to be hot?," she asked him. Like talking to a wall.
Around 6:00, my parents showed up, and we went to dinner at a German restaurant in Brooklyn with Sajan and Alison. We finally arrived in Mill Hall just after midnight. After sleeping on bad mattresses with bad pillows and buses for 9 months, my bed felt amazing. I'm pretty sure it's the Most Comfortable Bed in the World.
When I arrived in Lima, I was happy to discover that my Spanish had improved just by changing location. I had a 50 sole note in my wallet, so I headed to a gift shop to use it up. I had no problems communicating with the store clerk, who kept adding up my purchases and telling me what else I could get with my leftover soles. He even told me my Spanish was very good and asked had I been in Peru long? Ha. You have no idea.
Then I flew to San Jose, Costa Rica, where I waited an excruciating 6 hours. Actually, I was thinking that it didn't seem so bad, until I got to those last 2 hours. Then I wasn't really sure if I could take it anymore. But Harry got me through, and I boarded the plane without losing my head.
I got extremely lucky on my last flight. I was the only one in my row of three seats, so as soon as I ate my meal, I stretched out across all three seats and actually managed to get some sleep.
The plane landed on time at 2:30am. True to reputation, everyone in the New York airport was rude to me. I didn't want to be there at 3am either, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Things improved drastically when I got to Alison's apartment. She had an air mattress all ready for me.
I spent Friday in Manhattan. My first stop was Serendipity's for a Frozen Hot Chocolate. The most amusing part of my day was when the woman at the table next to me asked the bus boy "Isn't this supposed to be hot?" The bus boy looked at her as if she had three heads and just walked away. She kept asking this question to her friend/sister/traveling partner, who was wearing a matching pink jogging suit, so I decided to speak up. I asked her if she had ordered the hot chocolate or the frozen hot chocolate, and she replied that she had ordered the frozen variety.
"Right," I said, "It's frozen."
"But why do they call it a hot chocolate? This is just a milkshake."
"No, there's no ice cream in it. It's a hot chocolate with ice."
"Well, I don't understand why it's called a hot chocolate."
"Have you ever heard of an iced coffee? It's like that, only way better."
"Oh."
Then the waiter appeared. "Isn't this supposed to be hot?," she asked him. Like talking to a wall.
Around 6:00, my parents showed up, and we went to dinner at a German restaurant in Brooklyn with Sajan and Alison. We finally arrived in Mill Hall just after midnight. After sleeping on bad mattresses with bad pillows and buses for 9 months, my bed felt amazing. I'm pretty sure it's the Most Comfortable Bed in the World.
The Finale
Like I said, Wednesday was my last day in South America, and my birthday, which meant I called the shots. First off, Maribeth and I headed to the Latin American Museum of Art, since it was a free day. We had stopped in on Monday, but didn't feel like paying 15 pesos ($5) to tour, which turned out to be a really good decision. First of all, the museum didn't have all that much in it. Second, what was there was mostly modern art, a genre that neither of us care for. As Maribeth says, art should be something that not everybody can do. I can paint a canvas solid red if I wanted to, but why would I? This exhibit was particularly bad. The artist seemed to be a sugar addict who can't clean up after himself. In one corner was a pile of lollipops. Genius. An entire room was devoted to pieces of candy lying on the floor in a rectangle shape. We both managed to take pictures (which I swear I'll get around to putting up) before a man came over and told us that pictures were strictly forbidden. I'm pretty sure the whole thing is one big joke.
Afterwards, we went to a much more interesting museum devoted to Eva Peron. Everything I knew about Evita prior to this I learned from Madonna, so it was good to get a bit more background information. Then, of course, I had to go back and eat The World's Greatest Pizza for the third time during my stay.
In the evening, Maribeth and I went out for a steak dinner, courtesy of Maribeth as a birthday gift, accompanied by a few people from our hostel. We split a steak, since they serve you practically half a cow, but boy was it tasty. Following dinner, I finally got to go to my tango show. The show was fantastic. The dancers make everything look so easy, but after taking a few lessons, I know just how hard it is. The show also included more traditional song and dance. Towards the end, the stage darkened, and a spotlight went up over a balcony off to the side. On the balcony, a woman who looked and sounded an awful lot like Natasha from Rocky and Bullwinkle, began belting out a rousing rendition of "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" in Spanish. Pure camp. It was great. Maribeth kept hitting me, due to the fact that I couldn't stop giggling. When we got back to the hostel, Fredrick from Sweden made everyone sing Happy Birthday to me, in Spanish. I don't like being sung to. It's really just awkward for everyone involved, but I survived.
The show ended at 11:30, which meant I had 4 hours until it was time to leave for the airport. I certainly wasn't going to bother with sleep, since I would be so paranoid about oversleeping that I would never actually fall asleep, so Maribeth, Marc from Wales, and I played several rounds of UNO before heading to a pub for a late night snack. When we returned, it was time for me to finish packing up all my stuff.
Afterwards, we went to a much more interesting museum devoted to Eva Peron. Everything I knew about Evita prior to this I learned from Madonna, so it was good to get a bit more background information. Then, of course, I had to go back and eat The World's Greatest Pizza for the third time during my stay.
In the evening, Maribeth and I went out for a steak dinner, courtesy of Maribeth as a birthday gift, accompanied by a few people from our hostel. We split a steak, since they serve you practically half a cow, but boy was it tasty. Following dinner, I finally got to go to my tango show. The show was fantastic. The dancers make everything look so easy, but after taking a few lessons, I know just how hard it is. The show also included more traditional song and dance. Towards the end, the stage darkened, and a spotlight went up over a balcony off to the side. On the balcony, a woman who looked and sounded an awful lot like Natasha from Rocky and Bullwinkle, began belting out a rousing rendition of "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" in Spanish. Pure camp. It was great. Maribeth kept hitting me, due to the fact that I couldn't stop giggling. When we got back to the hostel, Fredrick from Sweden made everyone sing Happy Birthday to me, in Spanish. I don't like being sung to. It's really just awkward for everyone involved, but I survived.
The show ended at 11:30, which meant I had 4 hours until it was time to leave for the airport. I certainly wasn't going to bother with sleep, since I would be so paranoid about oversleeping that I would never actually fall asleep, so Maribeth, Marc from Wales, and I played several rounds of UNO before heading to a pub for a late night snack. When we returned, it was time for me to finish packing up all my stuff.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Birthday Madness
This is it. My last day in South America. It´s also my birthday. I think it´s appropriate that my last day here is my birthday. 25 was a really, really good year for me. Best ever.
I can´t believe it´s over, but I know it´s time. The other day I took a picture of myself in front of the Casa Rosada, and when I looked at it, I couldn´t believe how tired I looked.
But first, there is fun to be had. I´m so glad Maribeth was able to meet up with me here in BA. We´ve had a super fun and exciting past couple of days- year, really. She´s been busy telling everyone else here at the hostel that it´s my birthday, so I think we´ll have some good company tonight. The next 48 hours will be crazy. Here´s the rundown.
I can´t believe it´s over, but I know it´s time. The other day I took a picture of myself in front of the Casa Rosada, and when I looked at it, I couldn´t believe how tired I looked.
But first, there is fun to be had. I´m so glad Maribeth was able to meet up with me here in BA. We´ve had a super fun and exciting past couple of days- year, really. She´s been busy telling everyone else here at the hostel that it´s my birthday, so I think we´ll have some good company tonight. The next 48 hours will be crazy. Here´s the rundown.
- Museums, since Wednesday is free admission day
- Shopping
- Steak dinner
- Tango show
- Staying awake until it´s time to go to the airport, which will be around 3:30 in the morning- an early evening in this town
- Flying from Buenos Aires to Lima
- Flying from Lima to San Jose, Costa Rica
- Spending a whopping 6 hours in San Jose
- Flying from San Jose to JFK in New York
- Arriving in NYC at 2:30am
- Taking a taxi to Alison´s apartment in Brooklyn, where she has so wonderfully agreed to let me crash. Thanks bunches, and to Sajan too.
- Killing time in NYC- not too hard to do
- Driving back to Mill Hall Friday night
Monday, September 15, 2008
A Night at the Opera
There was no need to worry about dressing appropriately for the opera. It was certainly not a black tie event. First of all, the show started at 6pm, practically a matinee, especially in this town where dinner isn´t until 10pm, and the nightclubs don´t get going until 2am.
We sat practically in the rafters, but that didn´t really matter. The show was in French. I was surprised to see that they had Spanish subtitles on a screen above the stage. I found them a bit distracting, so I pretty much ignored them. The gist of the show was that Agamemmnon- the daughter of Oedipus if I remember correctly from my Biblical and Classical Literature class in college- was very, very sad because her whole family was dead. Unbeknownst to her, she had a brother in jail. Just as she was about to execute her brother, she realized he was her brother and they hugged. Everyone lived happily ever after. Or something like that. When it was all over, there was the world´s longest curtain call. It was as if they didn´t really know how to do a curtain call, all looking at one another for when they should bow, and pulling people out of the wings. But despite the finale awkwardness, it was a delightful evening at the opera.
We sat practically in the rafters, but that didn´t really matter. The show was in French. I was surprised to see that they had Spanish subtitles on a screen above the stage. I found them a bit distracting, so I pretty much ignored them. The gist of the show was that Agamemmnon- the daughter of Oedipus if I remember correctly from my Biblical and Classical Literature class in college- was very, very sad because her whole family was dead. Unbeknownst to her, she had a brother in jail. Just as she was about to execute her brother, she realized he was her brother and they hugged. Everyone lived happily ever after. Or something like that. When it was all over, there was the world´s longest curtain call. It was as if they didn´t really know how to do a curtain call, all looking at one another for when they should bow, and pulling people out of the wings. But despite the finale awkwardness, it was a delightful evening at the opera.
Like a Chameleon
While in Peru, I stood out as a gringa. Everyone knew that I wasn´t a local. In Chile, I blended in a lot more. In Argentina, everyone assumes I´m a local. I look more like a local than the locals do. All I need is a cigarette in one hand and a mate in the other, and I´m set. How do I know this? Because everyone asks me for directions. At least once a day, sometimes more. The other day, I was asked for directions twice in 20 minutes while waiting to meet someone. While waiting for Maribeth to change money on Saturday, a woman walked up to me and asked, ¿Vives aca? Do you live here? You´d think walking around with a pale blond English girl would give it away that I am not, in fact, a local, but even with Maribeth around, I´m still being asked for directions. And they go straight for me, while ignoring her. I usually just give them a blank look and say No se.
In other observations, Argentinians smoke more than you can possibly imagine. They also really really like their sweets. I can´t find a decent grocery store, but there are entire stores full of sweets all over the place. Argentina has the highest rate of eating disorders- or so I´ve heard- in the world, I guess because it´s all sugar and smoking.
In other observations, Argentinians smoke more than you can possibly imagine. They also really really like their sweets. I can´t find a decent grocery store, but there are entire stores full of sweets all over the place. Argentina has the highest rate of eating disorders- or so I´ve heard- in the world, I guess because it´s all sugar and smoking.
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