Today was very interesting to say the least. This island has a specific magic to it reserved to only the good, honest people who have heard of it. Untouched by tourism, the island is not only green, but still preserved this sense of family and community that big cities have lost touch with. I woke up in the morning bright and early at 7am. It was a rough start, and I was not happy to do it, but I had a bus to Furnas to catch at 9am and wanted to get breakfast in me.
My hostel ( Hostel Procyon) always has the most delicious spread of home made goodies. The two owners, a couple, inherited the home and weren't sure what to do with it. After trying to turn it into a tea house and bureaucracy falling them, they decided to go for a hostel. The warmth of a home is still felt throughout the walls and the love of this couple. They have a cat, who got injured today (it jumped out of a three story window, drama queen) and they have a passion for their guests. After making little just-in-case sandwhiches out of the croissants, cheese and jam, I headed to the bus station.
Again, be ready for a "humanity is great" day, because this day was all about people. I stood at the bus stops, and there is not true dedicated bus stops here. There is four unmarked bus stops. I needed bus 318 to Provoacao. I stood next to a man with a satchel for about five minutes before I worked up the courage to ask him if this was the right stop. His answer was the same as mine "I guess". We stood there, until he asked a passerby, and that passerby directed us across the street. We made the bus by 2 minutes. There is no other bus on Saturdays. My day would have been ruined if it wasn't for that man.
Once in Furnas, I headed to Terra Nostra, a botanical garden that also has hot springs. The price was about 8 Euros, but you get a beautiful walk through manicured gardens and the famous orange, iron-enforced lake, and two jacuzzis. I went in to morning before the crowds. Enjoyed the little walk, but better yet, enjoyed the hot springs while most had forgotten their swimsuit. The temperature was divine. The springs differed in temperature depending on which spot you stood, and if you looked up you had a mix of pine, deciduous and palm trees. After spending about two hours, I became a little pruny, and started to taste the iron on my lips. Also, the tourists were started to swarm around me, making this little paradise a little less enjoyable.
I decided to walk to caldeiras das furnas, the geysers of Furnas. It was a 30 minutes walk up hill, going through the most interesting properties cut off by rivers, forests and ravines. With a little walk on the highway, I found the fork towars Pico de Furnas and just continued there. It was rewarding to see that I was the only one who opted out of driving and I felt accomplished. This was until I got to the open space of the geyser, and the wind blew the lake's water onto my bare arms, and the geysers started to smell funky, and I didn't care about the beauty of nature anymore.
I headed back and realized my bus home was not for another 4 hours. I had a choice to make. It was an awkward, difficult choice. I had read online that it wasn't uncommon for people to hitchhike. It was safe, and enough people drove back to Ponta Delgada that I could get a ride before 5pm. So I got on the highway, and stuck my thumb out. My ego was immediately shattered when the first ten cars drove right past me. Luckily, I had those home made croissant sandwiches to fill in that void.
After about 30msn of standing by the side of the road, someone pulled up. He was a music teacher who was going to give a private lesson in Ponta Delgada. I agreed to ride with him. I turned on my location on my phone, pulled up the map and kept my bag on my lap. Mind you, he played his CD in the car with all the songs he composed. He asked me what I thought of them, and gave me a free CD half way through the ride. I was worried he was here trying to kidnap me and sell me into some weird sex trafficking ring, and the poor man was just trying to jam out. I did make him drop me off at the fanciest hotel in town, just in case he tried to ever find me. Like that would throw him off.
I got home at about 2pm, just in time to watch France destroy Argentina. I still had the CD in my bag, the story fresh in my brain and the adrenaline rushing through my vein. I did it. My day couldn't have been more perfect.
After a quick nap at the hostel, I went out to watch Portugal vs Uruguay. Once there, I had a glass of wine I had plan on sipping. Little did I know, the man who was sitting next to me (who had a dog named Billy) was not Spanish. Even though we had communicated in Spanish the entire time. He was from France. Well, that little skill earned me another two glasses of wine, and a loss for Portugal.
I met my two roommates for dinner after the game at this little Tapas place in downtown Ponta Delgada. We had more delicacies, such as limpets (in the family of clams), and a traditional egg pudding. It was all delicious of course, to the point, that I would a 100% to go back anytime.
Unfortunately, tomorrow is my last day and there is so many other restaurants I would like to try.
It just means I will have to come back in the near future!
6/30/2018
6/29/2018
Ally in Azores
My dear lovelies,
This is my first travel on my own in two years. It's crazy to think about how much happened in two years. I have had so many travels in between, and so many experiences. I went from being 25 years old to being 27 years old. I went from feeling like the world was mine to being restrained by my own capacities.
Yet, traveling is still making me feel youth is coursing through my blood. No matter my age, the airplane air, and the waiting in the airport will give me the rush and the adrenaline to feel like I am 23 years old, in love, and that the future is in front of me.
I am in the Azores at the moment, and I wish I didn't love it as much as I do now. Most people have not heard of this wonderful archipel of islands. They are an autonomous group of islands from Portugal that are in the middle of the Atlantic. Do not feel discouraged, there is three direct flights from the United States: Oakland, Providence, and Boston. The flights are five hours long, cheap and actually more convenient that going to Central America.
I landed at midnight. I made a poor decision to go with the first flight I saw. I realize that now, but there is something about late night flights that bong people together. I have four people that I connected with on the flight, and that I can hang out with anytime I want. It is very reassuring to think about the fact that I am still young enough at heart to be around early-20-something-year-olds.
Anyway, today I obviously enjoyed my not-so-shiny day in Ponta Delgada. I woke up extra early, because my teacher schedule will never leave my body. So I woke up at 7am, and showered and started my day by booking a few tours and having the most decadent breakfast. It started with pastries, and ended with cheeses and jams. I wish I didn't spend an hour eating, but truthfully I did. I then went headed and explored town a bit. There is nothing that I love more than a bird's eye view of a city. I went up the bell tower of Ponta Delgada, but that was not before I accidentally walked into the city hall and asked in my very-obvious tourist English if I could go up. The security guard took me outside and pointed me in the right direction. The bell tower is a skinny structure that allows 1/2 person to go up stone stairs that are falling apart. Once I got up, I enjoyed the view, until 18 German tourists walked up. It crowded the bell tower and even as I tried to leave more were coming up.
Once they were all up there, trying to speak to me in Portuguese, I went down and got back to the hostel. I needed a break from the walking, the heat, and the jet lag. My lunch was seafood, as is tradition in this town, and a bit of learning basic Portuguese as to not look too silly.
I had booked a tour to Sete Ciudades, even though there was clouds. Everyone says it is not beautiful in the clouds, but to be honest it is mostly magical. Driving up with my tour guide, Carlos (the face of Ponta Delgada) was also magical. ASking him the weirdest questions was only the fun part. He knew every answer. How much milk does a cow produce in Sao Miguel? A good cow produces 30 liters. What's the weirdest bird? The Azorian Blue finch. What's the amount of cheese an Azorian (carlos) person eats on a daily basis? I was just met with laughter. But 60% of milk production in Portugal happens on Sao Miguel island. And there is 1 1/2 cow per person here, and you would believe it.
After my Jeep-ed out tour around the craters of the Western part of the island, I went home to work a bit. I was greeted by my fellow Americans and we tried to go have dinner in town. Without reservations, this town is impossible to have dinner. We spend a solid hour trying to eat somewhere, only to eat on the main strip. Don't worry. I had squid AND octopus, because you have to have both in one meal. The fresh seafood must be the secret to happiness here; and all the cheese.
Having tried a good amount Vinho Verde, and the local wines, we decided to walk back to the hotel through the illuminated town. There is nothing more magical than a port city in the lights of night. The fresh air brings the people out. The moon helps the artificial light freshen the town. The waves crushing are the soundtrack to your steps. This was one perfect day under the clouds and the rain. I wouldn't compare Ponta Delgada to Paris in the rain, but I would say the people's acceptance counterbalance the miserable rain.
Can't wait for tomorrow and my trip to the hot springs, rain or shine; I will be there.
This is my first travel on my own in two years. It's crazy to think about how much happened in two years. I have had so many travels in between, and so many experiences. I went from being 25 years old to being 27 years old. I went from feeling like the world was mine to being restrained by my own capacities.
Yet, traveling is still making me feel youth is coursing through my blood. No matter my age, the airplane air, and the waiting in the airport will give me the rush and the adrenaline to feel like I am 23 years old, in love, and that the future is in front of me.
I am in the Azores at the moment, and I wish I didn't love it as much as I do now. Most people have not heard of this wonderful archipel of islands. They are an autonomous group of islands from Portugal that are in the middle of the Atlantic. Do not feel discouraged, there is three direct flights from the United States: Oakland, Providence, and Boston. The flights are five hours long, cheap and actually more convenient that going to Central America.
I landed at midnight. I made a poor decision to go with the first flight I saw. I realize that now, but there is something about late night flights that bong people together. I have four people that I connected with on the flight, and that I can hang out with anytime I want. It is very reassuring to think about the fact that I am still young enough at heart to be around early-20-something-year-olds.
Anyway, today I obviously enjoyed my not-so-shiny day in Ponta Delgada. I woke up extra early, because my teacher schedule will never leave my body. So I woke up at 7am, and showered and started my day by booking a few tours and having the most decadent breakfast. It started with pastries, and ended with cheeses and jams. I wish I didn't spend an hour eating, but truthfully I did. I then went headed and explored town a bit. There is nothing that I love more than a bird's eye view of a city. I went up the bell tower of Ponta Delgada, but that was not before I accidentally walked into the city hall and asked in my very-obvious tourist English if I could go up. The security guard took me outside and pointed me in the right direction. The bell tower is a skinny structure that allows 1/2 person to go up stone stairs that are falling apart. Once I got up, I enjoyed the view, until 18 German tourists walked up. It crowded the bell tower and even as I tried to leave more were coming up.
Once they were all up there, trying to speak to me in Portuguese, I went down and got back to the hostel. I needed a break from the walking, the heat, and the jet lag. My lunch was seafood, as is tradition in this town, and a bit of learning basic Portuguese as to not look too silly.
I had booked a tour to Sete Ciudades, even though there was clouds. Everyone says it is not beautiful in the clouds, but to be honest it is mostly magical. Driving up with my tour guide, Carlos (the face of Ponta Delgada) was also magical. ASking him the weirdest questions was only the fun part. He knew every answer. How much milk does a cow produce in Sao Miguel? A good cow produces 30 liters. What's the weirdest bird? The Azorian Blue finch. What's the amount of cheese an Azorian (carlos) person eats on a daily basis? I was just met with laughter. But 60% of milk production in Portugal happens on Sao Miguel island. And there is 1 1/2 cow per person here, and you would believe it.
After my Jeep-ed out tour around the craters of the Western part of the island, I went home to work a bit. I was greeted by my fellow Americans and we tried to go have dinner in town. Without reservations, this town is impossible to have dinner. We spend a solid hour trying to eat somewhere, only to eat on the main strip. Don't worry. I had squid AND octopus, because you have to have both in one meal. The fresh seafood must be the secret to happiness here; and all the cheese.
Having tried a good amount Vinho Verde, and the local wines, we decided to walk back to the hotel through the illuminated town. There is nothing more magical than a port city in the lights of night. The fresh air brings the people out. The moon helps the artificial light freshen the town. The waves crushing are the soundtrack to your steps. This was one perfect day under the clouds and the rain. I wouldn't compare Ponta Delgada to Paris in the rain, but I would say the people's acceptance counterbalance the miserable rain.
Can't wait for tomorrow and my trip to the hot springs, rain or shine; I will be there.
4/14/2017
Giving up Wifi for a stay in the Cloud Rainforest
As I stated in my status, I was wifi deprived for our stay
in La Tigra, but not to worry, I will back track to Wednesday’s stressful
adventures.
We left Nicaragua on Wednesday, and the travel from Esteli
to Honduras is not an easy one on Easter week. I woke up early to gather
information about this chicken bus we had to take. It seemed like an easy plan
to take local transportation and if all failed we would be able to just take a
taxi to the border for 50$ total and walk across to Honduras. So I thought…
We left for the bus at 9:00 am, for the 9:20 bus. At 9:30am,
a bus pulled up fill to the brim with people. As Americans, we figured it was
full, yet Nicaraguans were walking into the bus and we were left on the curb.
We agreed to just suck it up and take a taxi. Of course, no one had any desire
to wait another hour for the next bus, so we asked taxi after taxi. We had an
offer for 80$ which we refused and then 100$ which we were trying to bargain
down. Sam noticed another bus coming for Ocotal and we ran towards it, handing
our backpacks which were strapped down to the top of the bus and we walked in.
I thought we were safe.
Let me describe to you what a chicken bus in Nicaragua looks like. If you
have ever seen an American school bus, you have seen a chicken bus. Now add
some religious stickers, some paint, some crazy destination font, and about 200
people and bam, you got yourself a Nicaraguan chicken bus.
The ride to Ocotal was over 2 hours long. I stood, for two
hours long. Brodia, Sam and Tori sat on top of each other with another woman
next to them. After about 2 hours, the bus was much less crowded and I was able
to leave a spot next to a puking child and move myself by Sam, Tori and Brodia.
Just in time to have a panic attack. I crouched down in the aisle while Sam and
Brodia hugged me and petted me. We arrived in Ocotal and I was drained. I
couldn’t think about the next step. Luckily, everyone stepped up, got some food
in me and even got a taxi. It was all orchestrated by this Nicaraguan 24 year
old man who Brodia accidentally talked to and it all worked out. We took a taxi
to the border (Las Manos), paid our 1$ exit tax, the 2$ immigration tax, walked
over to the Honduran flag and paid our 4$ entrance fee, got our stamp and
started looking for mini-shuttles or taxis. The only thing we could find was
another chicken bus. I was still exhausted and could not see the end of this
journey, but we exchanged some money from whoever had the biggest stack of
Honduran money and got on the bus to El Paraiso. There we got a mini-shuttle (a
little pricier) to Tegucigalpa, where we were supposed to have a rental at the
airport. Can you guess what happened to the rental car? It was very obviously
given away, so we were left stranded without a car.
I had it with the rental cars at this point, and so we headed towards a taxi driver. He quoted us 60$ to go up to La Tigra, to our cabin (El Rosario). We argued it down to 50$ and after the 1h30 drive up a steep hill in a mini-van, we agreed that he should be paid the original 60$. He argued with us and got 70$ out of us, but we were exhausted and ready for our home cooked dinner.
I had it with the rental cars at this point, and so we headed towards a taxi driver. He quoted us 60$ to go up to La Tigra, to our cabin (El Rosario). We argued it down to 50$ and after the 1h30 drive up a steep hill in a mini-van, we agreed that he should be paid the original 60$. He argued with us and got 70$ out of us, but we were exhausted and ready for our home cooked dinner.
Our hosts cooked us this beautiful vegetarian dinner which
we ate three servings of each. Then they had lemon grass tea waiting for us,
and banana bread for dessert. We even got to enjoy the home made raspberry wine
and taste the honey mead and the blackberry wine. Monika is a vet, so there is
enough pets on the propriety to satisfy everyone, while Jorge is a horticulture
engineer.
It was a fabulous way to end a very emotional day.
On Thursday, we woke up in the jungle to the sound of birds
and the sight of the little town down the valley (San Juancito). We had planned
that day to hike in and out of La Tigra national park. So after a healthy
breakfast with homemade jelly and home cooked bread, we took a warm shower
(rare in Central America and set off to the trail around the park. The altitude
almost immediately took me down. With Sam’s expert instruction, I managed to
get my body to accept the fact that we were above 5000 feet above sea level and
to be okay with it. We hiked in the primary jungle and after a photo shoot at
the waterfall and exploring some old mining caves, we got home around 4:30pm.
Our host, Monika, cooked us what she called a quizza (A quiche/ pizza), and we devoured
it while Jorge talked to us about the history of their property. It was
heartwarming to see the passion he holds for his projects in his life. We
finished the night with some mead and blackberry wine at the candle light. We
tried to wake up for the sunrise, but it was so cloudy that we went right back
to bed.
Friday was our departure day from El Rosario, and our
arrival for our 18 hours stay in Tegulcipalga. Jorge brought us down to the
capital all the while sharing with us stories of his travels to Hawaii. During our drive down the mountain, he also showed us the
many different trees which inhabits Honduras. We had a little over an hour of
driving, and once we got in the city, he remarked how the city resembled a
ghost town. Good Friday is considered a national holiday in Central America and each country celebrate differently. Honduras is known for a procession down the main church in town and their "carpet" displays. Volunteer artists create beautiful religious scenes using colored sands and little rocks. The two most famous towns to have those displays are Tegulcipalga and Comayagua.
Originally, we wanted to go up to Comayagua to see the carpet
display and then to the Lake Yojoa for some water activities. Without a car and
with the holiday, we were stuck in Tegulcipalga, which in the end
worked out best for us. We went to the town center to see the Easter carpets
Tegulcipalga had to offer. The vibrant colors used to create the "carpet" display
contrasted with the rundown buildings. The volunteers had been working on the
biblical scenes all morning now, and we were able to see their finished work
all the way down the main plaza, where we enjoyed some local "baleado"- tortilla,
refried beans, chicken/eggs, sour cream and cheese. Sam, Tori and Brodia had
some street corn topped with cheese, mayo, and salsa rojo. We walked back while
enjoying the little side streets of the capital. We saw nothing but beautifully
dressed children and locals admiring the artists at work. Once having our feel
of culture, we got back to our hostel to enjoy some time with high-speed
internet.
Tomorrow, we head to El Salvador for a quick 24 hours in the
country and then I head back to the East Coast.
4/12/2017
It wouldn't be Central America if sunburns weren't involved...
Canyoning Somoto Canyon was an absolute gem. In the last 48 hours, we have made nothing but the right decisions.
We had the choice to book out trip through one of the big companies such as Somoto Canyon Tours, but due to our general fatigue upon arrival at Esteli, we chose to go with our hostel. So we booked it at 6pm, for the next day at 8:30am.
We woke up on this tuesday morning incredible early (for most)- 7:00am. We decided to take our car to Somoto Canyon to gain an hour of sleep, rather than take the chicken bus down the winding roads through the mountains. We were suppose to meet our guide, Jancy, at a gas station. Well, between the late departure, the accident we witnessed on PanAmericana Highway (the highway that crosses all of North America), and the police stop to check for drugs and human trafficking, we didn't notice either the guide, or the gas station. We arrived at 9:30am for a 8:30am tour.
Luckily, Jancy was patient. She had seen us drive past her. It turns out, we love Jancy. She climbed in our car, took us to the bus station for some coffees and then to her family plot, where her and her cousins live. They made us this the heavenly breakfast made of gallo pinto, fresh eggs, tomatoes, cheese and tortillas. Brodia fell in love with the little puppy there. She would sneak little bits of eggs under the table to make sure he was well-fed for the day.
We had another cup of coffee, which turns out Nicaraguan love their coffee with a (non)healthy amount of sugar. Listen, coffee is coffee is coffee when you have to hike and swim for 6 hours.
We walked 1Km to the entrance of the park. On the way, Jancy showed us guava fruit and climbed the tree for us to taste it. We saw a herd of cattle lead by two cowboys- a big one and a little one. We are in the middle of Semana Santa, so all the children are on vacation, or out helping their parents with work as there is no TV, no video games for them to play.
Once at the entrance, we saw some plantations of coffee, bananas, mais/corn, and rice. Jancy only spoke Spanish but everyone started to be able to understand her, and communicate with her one way or the other. She told us about her studies as a tour guide, and how she does the 6 hour hike twice a week, and the smaller hike of 4 hours three times a day. She told us about the changes in the canyon throughout the dry season and the rainy season. She showed us the plants growing along side the cliffs, and the many "bebe" jumps we could do to get that adrenaline rush we wanted.
We hiked, climbed up 45 sets of stairs, and swam until our arms felt like falling off. We jumped 8 meters high cliffs (it is really not that high, don't be too impressed) and we slipped on many rocks. We got in caves, saw some bats, and walked among the cattle. The best part was at the end, when unexpectedly, we were greeted by Jancy's family and horses. I have yet to have a truly horseback riding experience, I greeted those horses with arms wide open. After trekking for 12.5 Km, I was done using my legs/ arms for anything.
The horses took us all the way back to Jancy' s house where we had left our car. We could not believe the authentic, local experience we just had for so cheap. We tipped everyone heavily. Sam told her children how great their mom is, and we hugged and left as the storm was setting in. On our drive back, Tori found us a falafel restaurant (restaurant Jerusalem Kebab grill) and once we dropped off the car at the rental place, we headed straight there. The owner greeted us and took our orders and also cooked for us. We were so happy to taste homemade hummus, pita bread and have a good falafel sandwich. This was the first time on the trip that Sam and Tori really finished their meal!
We took a taxi back to the hotel and started drinking the beers that we had brought back and talked until 1am about the catcalling, the general feeling of safety and our experiences abroad. We've witnessed a good amount of harassment aimed at us. Whatever it'd be general stares or whistling or cat calls, it has created a climate of uncertainty when we walk the streets of Nicaragua. We are in a different country where the dress code is very different and we have not fully respected this, but the feeling still resides. Maybe honduras will treat us a little better.
Today we are heading to Honduras, and my sunburns and I must make peace as we will be in a bus for 2 hours, to then cross the border for 1 hour and then hopefully catch a minibus for 4 hours. There is only hope that the more Aloe Vera I put on my shoulder, face and back, the quicker my body will heal.
Then again, the sun came back out today...
We had the choice to book out trip through one of the big companies such as Somoto Canyon Tours, but due to our general fatigue upon arrival at Esteli, we chose to go with our hostel. So we booked it at 6pm, for the next day at 8:30am.
We woke up on this tuesday morning incredible early (for most)- 7:00am. We decided to take our car to Somoto Canyon to gain an hour of sleep, rather than take the chicken bus down the winding roads through the mountains. We were suppose to meet our guide, Jancy, at a gas station. Well, between the late departure, the accident we witnessed on PanAmericana Highway (the highway that crosses all of North America), and the police stop to check for drugs and human trafficking, we didn't notice either the guide, or the gas station. We arrived at 9:30am for a 8:30am tour.
Luckily, Jancy was patient. She had seen us drive past her. It turns out, we love Jancy. She climbed in our car, took us to the bus station for some coffees and then to her family plot, where her and her cousins live. They made us this the heavenly breakfast made of gallo pinto, fresh eggs, tomatoes, cheese and tortillas. Brodia fell in love with the little puppy there. She would sneak little bits of eggs under the table to make sure he was well-fed for the day.
We had another cup of coffee, which turns out Nicaraguan love their coffee with a (non)healthy amount of sugar. Listen, coffee is coffee is coffee when you have to hike and swim for 6 hours.
We walked 1Km to the entrance of the park. On the way, Jancy showed us guava fruit and climbed the tree for us to taste it. We saw a herd of cattle lead by two cowboys- a big one and a little one. We are in the middle of Semana Santa, so all the children are on vacation, or out helping their parents with work as there is no TV, no video games for them to play.
Once at the entrance, we saw some plantations of coffee, bananas, mais/corn, and rice. Jancy only spoke Spanish but everyone started to be able to understand her, and communicate with her one way or the other. She told us about her studies as a tour guide, and how she does the 6 hour hike twice a week, and the smaller hike of 4 hours three times a day. She told us about the changes in the canyon throughout the dry season and the rainy season. She showed us the plants growing along side the cliffs, and the many "bebe" jumps we could do to get that adrenaline rush we wanted.
We hiked, climbed up 45 sets of stairs, and swam until our arms felt like falling off. We jumped 8 meters high cliffs (it is really not that high, don't be too impressed) and we slipped on many rocks. We got in caves, saw some bats, and walked among the cattle. The best part was at the end, when unexpectedly, we were greeted by Jancy's family and horses. I have yet to have a truly horseback riding experience, I greeted those horses with arms wide open. After trekking for 12.5 Km, I was done using my legs/ arms for anything.
The horses took us all the way back to Jancy' s house where we had left our car. We could not believe the authentic, local experience we just had for so cheap. We tipped everyone heavily. Sam told her children how great their mom is, and we hugged and left as the storm was setting in. On our drive back, Tori found us a falafel restaurant (restaurant Jerusalem Kebab grill) and once we dropped off the car at the rental place, we headed straight there. The owner greeted us and took our orders and also cooked for us. We were so happy to taste homemade hummus, pita bread and have a good falafel sandwich. This was the first time on the trip that Sam and Tori really finished their meal!
We took a taxi back to the hotel and started drinking the beers that we had brought back and talked until 1am about the catcalling, the general feeling of safety and our experiences abroad. We've witnessed a good amount of harassment aimed at us. Whatever it'd be general stares or whistling or cat calls, it has created a climate of uncertainty when we walk the streets of Nicaragua. We are in a different country where the dress code is very different and we have not fully respected this, but the feeling still resides. Maybe honduras will treat us a little better.
Today we are heading to Honduras, and my sunburns and I must make peace as we will be in a bus for 2 hours, to then cross the border for 1 hour and then hopefully catch a minibus for 4 hours. There is only hope that the more Aloe Vera I put on my shoulder, face and back, the quicker my body will heal.
Then again, the sun came back out today...
4/11/2017
The road tripping start!
Our first full day in Nicaragua is most likely going to be our most and only cultural day in this country.
I woke up to the sunlight and to birds battling it out at 5am. It was everything that I dreamed and feared of. The noise resembled mice fighting in our room, and the sun was burning my baby white skin. The sun rose and little by little the day became hotter and hotter. It reached a whooping 96F yesterday BEFORE we even stepped into the colorful city.
The hostel offered us free breakfast and coffee, which got us ready for the day. We packed our bags, left a towel behind (accidentally) and left to explore Granada. The town is made out of building painted in all different colors, creating almosst a cartoon feel to the streets.
Our first stop was Granada Cathedral, where we stopped and admired the contrast of the orange-yellow wall with the blue sky. The building looked new, repainted with the lively color to mask its not-so-radiant past. The cathedral was built in the 1500's and burnt twice before the year 1600. Then in the time of pirates (William Walker, to be exact)- 1800's, it was raided and destroyed. Finally, the reconstruction was finished in 1915, which is why the building fits in the skyline so perfectly, unlike Notre Dame De Paris. Within the cathedral, you can go up the bell tower, but we decided to save this for a little older and unsightly church. Inside Granada Cathedral, they are painting the ceilings with biblical scenes, including some Michelangelo and a scene from Noah's ark, where Noah clearly saved a pug from the flood. We stepped back outside into the sun to quickly explore the city for the most picturesque street.
I had looked up a few monuments and places to be, but as four Travel for Teens girls would, we wandered in and out of the little streets until we reached the Lake Nicaragua. The sun was beaming and we were sweating, but we were at awe with everything.
From the colorful walls to the lively streets to the little square our hostel was on, we barely noticed how little water we were really drinking. On the way back to Granada Cathedral, we stopped at a little juice bar were we met a Californian family who had just arrived. We chatted it up, talking about their daughters (mother was very proud, dad was embarrassing them with the dad jokes), education and travel of course. We gave them Sam's business card and went back to Parque Central to head to Merced Iglesia which is another church, with a similar history as Granada Cathedral.
We climbed up the bell tower of the dilapidated church to appreciate Granada at a bird's view. The view was completely different as the roofs were identical clay tiles. As we climbed back down (after Sam rang the bell, clearly a forbidden act), we headed back to our hotel, ready to embark to our next town: Esteli.
Brodia and Sam drove for about 4 hours and a half. We passed trucks, chicken buses, pick up trucks with cows in them, pick up trucks with people in them, motorcycles with too many people on them and other slow cars. We made it past a fake construction site, which was really a ploy for beggars to demand money and a small 9 year old to flip us the bird.
We stopped at a trucker's stop and enjoyed our first Nicaraguan meal, which consisted of ... Rice, meat, plantains and beans! It wasn't the most admirable meal, but it filled us up (honestly, the point of Central American cuisine).
We arrived at our destination, and got into our hostel. It is nothing fancy, two private rooms in a what looks like use to be a residential house. Our first night was spent talk to the Mexican worker, Jon Christian, where Brodia got to relieve me of my Spanish speaking duties and he made us all michelada: a beer mixed with crushed chili peppers and lime juice. He walked us to his favorite comida tipica (Nicaraguan food) because he couldn't point it out on the map. And so for a whole 1$ each, we ate our "carne asado" (tacos) and "enchilidas" (empanadas). On the walk back, Sam stubbed her toe, adding out first injury to the trip. Jon Christian made us another round of michelada and we sat outside talking about our aspirations, texting our parents, friends and reminiscing on our connections with each other.
After going to bed, I couldn't help but realize how much we had done within our first 24 hours in Nicaragua. We drove across the country, we tried new foods, we explored two towns and we made a new friend.
It is only fair that today we go canyoning in the scenic Somoto Canyon in wild Nicaragua!
I woke up to the sunlight and to birds battling it out at 5am. It was everything that I dreamed and feared of. The noise resembled mice fighting in our room, and the sun was burning my baby white skin. The sun rose and little by little the day became hotter and hotter. It reached a whooping 96F yesterday BEFORE we even stepped into the colorful city.
The hostel offered us free breakfast and coffee, which got us ready for the day. We packed our bags, left a towel behind (accidentally) and left to explore Granada. The town is made out of building painted in all different colors, creating almosst a cartoon feel to the streets.
Our first stop was Granada Cathedral, where we stopped and admired the contrast of the orange-yellow wall with the blue sky. The building looked new, repainted with the lively color to mask its not-so-radiant past. The cathedral was built in the 1500's and burnt twice before the year 1600. Then in the time of pirates (William Walker, to be exact)- 1800's, it was raided and destroyed. Finally, the reconstruction was finished in 1915, which is why the building fits in the skyline so perfectly, unlike Notre Dame De Paris. Within the cathedral, you can go up the bell tower, but we decided to save this for a little older and unsightly church. Inside Granada Cathedral, they are painting the ceilings with biblical scenes, including some Michelangelo and a scene from Noah's ark, where Noah clearly saved a pug from the flood. We stepped back outside into the sun to quickly explore the city for the most picturesque street.
I had looked up a few monuments and places to be, but as four Travel for Teens girls would, we wandered in and out of the little streets until we reached the Lake Nicaragua. The sun was beaming and we were sweating, but we were at awe with everything.
From the colorful walls to the lively streets to the little square our hostel was on, we barely noticed how little water we were really drinking. On the way back to Granada Cathedral, we stopped at a little juice bar were we met a Californian family who had just arrived. We chatted it up, talking about their daughters (mother was very proud, dad was embarrassing them with the dad jokes), education and travel of course. We gave them Sam's business card and went back to Parque Central to head to Merced Iglesia which is another church, with a similar history as Granada Cathedral.
We climbed up the bell tower of the dilapidated church to appreciate Granada at a bird's view. The view was completely different as the roofs were identical clay tiles. As we climbed back down (after Sam rang the bell, clearly a forbidden act), we headed back to our hotel, ready to embark to our next town: Esteli.
Brodia and Sam drove for about 4 hours and a half. We passed trucks, chicken buses, pick up trucks with cows in them, pick up trucks with people in them, motorcycles with too many people on them and other slow cars. We made it past a fake construction site, which was really a ploy for beggars to demand money and a small 9 year old to flip us the bird.
We stopped at a trucker's stop and enjoyed our first Nicaraguan meal, which consisted of ... Rice, meat, plantains and beans! It wasn't the most admirable meal, but it filled us up (honestly, the point of Central American cuisine).
We arrived at our destination, and got into our hostel. It is nothing fancy, two private rooms in a what looks like use to be a residential house. Our first night was spent talk to the Mexican worker, Jon Christian, where Brodia got to relieve me of my Spanish speaking duties and he made us all michelada: a beer mixed with crushed chili peppers and lime juice. He walked us to his favorite comida tipica (Nicaraguan food) because he couldn't point it out on the map. And so for a whole 1$ each, we ate our "carne asado" (tacos) and "enchilidas" (empanadas). On the walk back, Sam stubbed her toe, adding out first injury to the trip. Jon Christian made us another round of michelada and we sat outside talking about our aspirations, texting our parents, friends and reminiscing on our connections with each other.
After going to bed, I couldn't help but realize how much we had done within our first 24 hours in Nicaragua. We drove across the country, we tried new foods, we explored two towns and we made a new friend.
It is only fair that today we go canyoning in the scenic Somoto Canyon in wild Nicaragua!
4/10/2017
The typical travels of a girl who loves to eat
And I am off on another journey through Central America.
This spring break will offer a whirlwind of adventure through Nicaragua, Honduras and El Salvador. But adventures always start the same way, with a passport, a boarding pass, and something wrong with the plane.
I flew out of Philadelphia to land in Miami, as I always do to get to Central America. This was not the eventful part. American Airlines completely screwed the pooch on their bookings (as they always do) and had delays for the last three days which created a backup of 27 people trying to get on our plane to Miami. I wish I could say I felt bad for them, but my spring break is starting and I have not only a limited amount of time to get to my paradise, and I also don't trust American Airlines to actually have a seat for me later one. So I boarded my plane, as 25 pairs of eyes glared at me.
Tori and I landed in Miami. We were not that hungry, but we were thirsty for some beers. We stopped at my favorite bar called.... Irish bar. It is in the middle of D terminal so you can get to any gates relatively easy.
We were craving burgers, as one does on a daily basis, and found this restaurant online called " The counter custom burger". So, we wrapped up our check, drank our lagers and walk the whole ten feet to this burger heaven. We ordered more beers (without realizing that the normalcy is to have a 20oz pint instead of 16oz pint) and enjoyed our little dinner.
Then suddenly, I hear " jkshaduaksdh Vila". Well, that' s weird. Our flight doesn't end boarding for another ten minutes. I had already asked for the check, and then Tori gets a sudden phone call. "Yeah, we will be right there. Yeah, two minutes. Allison Vila is with me." Panic sets in, burgers settle in my belly. I ain't running for this one.
We make it, with three minutes to spare and a stern talking to by the flight attendant in charge. Whatever, we get on our plane and hear the announcement that our CO-PILOT has been spotting walking down the corridor to the gate. So we weren't the last one on our plane...
Once landed, I had a strong feeling that this travel day was going to continue with the regular "let's make sure Allison gets to practice her Spanish by giving her problem after problem". Big mistake universe. I have been wearing hiking boots on a plane for the last 9 hours, I am on fire.
The car rental agency had canceled our rental due to the delays in our flight. So, they had no cars for us. I stood there and smiled and said "que?" he tried to repeat slowly and I cut him off with a "Yo entiendo. Pero.... que? No coche? Nada? Y.... porque?"
See, it wouldn't have been a big deal because plenty of other car services would have rented me a car, but we were dropping off this bad boy in Estile, which meant only few agency would allowus to have a car... and it is, of course, Semana Santa which only aggravates the problem.
Finally, I take my little device called an Iphone charged with an International Plan and find myself a car with budgetCar. I get the car at 9:30pm. We landed at 7:30pm. I had taken off my hiking boots at the counter.
Sam lands, Brodia arrives and the car keys arrive. We climb in the car (which is now a manual so 50% of the passengers can drive it and that's it) and feel on top of the world. Until our GPS takes us down the strangest roads and in circles around Managua. Sam's amazing navigation skills came in handy and she got us on the highway; where we realized that passing a car at nighttime meant flashing your beamers STRAIGHT at us. Just a friendly blinding "hello, I am here!"
It was a relief to find our hostel in Granada, to find our beds, to be able to put on shorts and to know that for the rest night nothing more could go wrong. We took a little stroll around the city, which seems beautiful and charming, and filled with colorful people who know three words in English "Sex, Cocaine, Fuck you".
Needless to say, I laughed at their bold attempt at catcalling and will see if the day population is a little more educated.
Having said that, it is 5am and I am ready for a quick nap and free banana pancakes at our hostel! I will keep you updated, and maybe even post pictures this time around :)
Buenos dias y hasta luego!
This spring break will offer a whirlwind of adventure through Nicaragua, Honduras and El Salvador. But adventures always start the same way, with a passport, a boarding pass, and something wrong with the plane.
I flew out of Philadelphia to land in Miami, as I always do to get to Central America. This was not the eventful part. American Airlines completely screwed the pooch on their bookings (as they always do) and had delays for the last three days which created a backup of 27 people trying to get on our plane to Miami. I wish I could say I felt bad for them, but my spring break is starting and I have not only a limited amount of time to get to my paradise, and I also don't trust American Airlines to actually have a seat for me later one. So I boarded my plane, as 25 pairs of eyes glared at me.
Tori and I landed in Miami. We were not that hungry, but we were thirsty for some beers. We stopped at my favorite bar called.... Irish bar. It is in the middle of D terminal so you can get to any gates relatively easy.
We were craving burgers, as one does on a daily basis, and found this restaurant online called " The counter custom burger". So, we wrapped up our check, drank our lagers and walk the whole ten feet to this burger heaven. We ordered more beers (without realizing that the normalcy is to have a 20oz pint instead of 16oz pint) and enjoyed our little dinner.
Then suddenly, I hear " jkshaduaksdh Vila". Well, that' s weird. Our flight doesn't end boarding for another ten minutes. I had already asked for the check, and then Tori gets a sudden phone call. "Yeah, we will be right there. Yeah, two minutes. Allison Vila is with me." Panic sets in, burgers settle in my belly. I ain't running for this one.
We make it, with three minutes to spare and a stern talking to by the flight attendant in charge. Whatever, we get on our plane and hear the announcement that our CO-PILOT has been spotting walking down the corridor to the gate. So we weren't the last one on our plane...
Once landed, I had a strong feeling that this travel day was going to continue with the regular "let's make sure Allison gets to practice her Spanish by giving her problem after problem". Big mistake universe. I have been wearing hiking boots on a plane for the last 9 hours, I am on fire.
The car rental agency had canceled our rental due to the delays in our flight. So, they had no cars for us. I stood there and smiled and said "que?" he tried to repeat slowly and I cut him off with a "Yo entiendo. Pero.... que? No coche? Nada? Y.... porque?"
See, it wouldn't have been a big deal because plenty of other car services would have rented me a car, but we were dropping off this bad boy in Estile, which meant only few agency would allowus to have a car... and it is, of course, Semana Santa which only aggravates the problem.
Finally, I take my little device called an Iphone charged with an International Plan and find myself a car with budgetCar. I get the car at 9:30pm. We landed at 7:30pm. I had taken off my hiking boots at the counter.
Sam lands, Brodia arrives and the car keys arrive. We climb in the car (which is now a manual so 50% of the passengers can drive it and that's it) and feel on top of the world. Until our GPS takes us down the strangest roads and in circles around Managua. Sam's amazing navigation skills came in handy and she got us on the highway; where we realized that passing a car at nighttime meant flashing your beamers STRAIGHT at us. Just a friendly blinding "hello, I am here!"
It was a relief to find our hostel in Granada, to find our beds, to be able to put on shorts and to know that for the rest night nothing more could go wrong. We took a little stroll around the city, which seems beautiful and charming, and filled with colorful people who know three words in English "Sex, Cocaine, Fuck you".
Needless to say, I laughed at their bold attempt at catcalling and will see if the day population is a little more educated.
Having said that, it is 5am and I am ready for a quick nap and free banana pancakes at our hostel! I will keep you updated, and maybe even post pictures this time around :)
Buenos dias y hasta luego!
3/25/2016
Different Rescue, Same story!
Yesterday, I finally went to Merazonia Wildlife rescue
center. It’s located in Mera, a small town between Banos and Puyo, in Ecuador.
It is a five minute taxi ride away from the police check point, which is very
convenient as they get most of their animal through illegal trafficking. The
place is huge. First, it is similar to “La Ceiba” at the Jaguar Rescue center,
in the sense that it is deep in the jungle. You cross a river, and you are
still trekking a bit to get to the main part of the center. I had never been
there, or even really done much research on what the place looked like, but I
figured it out relatively easy, and I quickly ran into a volunteer coordinator,
who must of seen my face and known I was the day volunteer. He introduced me to
Jenna, the release coordinator volunteer who has been working there for 4 years
and who worked closely with monkeys at the London zoo, and I also met Louise,
their vet who was caring for a baby Tamarind at my arrival. I didn’t realize
the extent of the land until I was walked around to see all the animals. The cages
were very far apart for the obvious reason to keep the animals for sensing each
other and the path were not paved. To my delight, I quickly got muddy.
Jenna was my guide for the morning. She took me to her
favorite monkeys, the wooly monkeys, and I got to meet Diego, Nina and Mona. Their
fur was absolutely beautiful, shiny and thick. They looked like they were
wearing little winter coats. They walked around their enclosure bouncing off
the many branches, ladders and platform Frank had constructed for them. Frank
was the original person I was in touch with, but due to a howler monkey
emergency, he didn’t have much time to chat with me. I couldn’t blame him, as
we have all been in howler monkey emergencies, and let him try to mediate
between their three grumpy primates.
I was also brought to their blue headed parrots, which they will try to release soon. They have 15 at the moment, and they all seem to get along, but she would like to be able to keep them nearby to track their progress as their as not been much recorded data on the release of blue headed parrots. So she explained to me that they will release them in groups of two, the dominant birds and then the rest.
They also have some big birds, including three Macaws, which were un-releasable, due to their habits around humans. It is a shame to see those beautiful blue and yellow animals stuck in a cage (no matter how big the cage is), but they are providing them with the best life they would get. They have a small group to socialize with, and they are in a space where they can fly.
Jenna then took me to their prized animals, the baby wholly
monkeys. Jesus, they looked like stuffed animals. She is hopeful to release
them with Diego and the two other females once they get a little more weight on
them. The babies are still babies and need someone to be with them at night,
and Jenna was worried for them. I kept on remembering how Encar or Nadja would
sleep with Tonino, and he became a little beast of a monkey the moment he
reached puberty. So I tried to reassure her that those little guys looked quite
healthy and will enjoy their new surrogate mothers.
The main difference between this center and the Jaguar
Rescue Center was their close tie with the ministry. Their animals came
directly from the government, and the government decided the time, the location
and the release format. The center did receive money from grants and from the
Ecuadorian government in order to keep it running properly, but the restriction
on the release could sometimes affect the animals. Some of their monkeys who
couldn’t be release were brought to zoos. It was very interesting to hear the
involvement of the ministry in their approach to release the animals, and their
ability to keep up with the animals afterwards. They track all their releases
and know immediately the success or failure. From my understanding, Jenna and
Frank are doing an amazing job with the new arrivals at the center, and are
very thorough with any release.
The center had many more animals, such as a puma (8 years
old, so they will not release her), 5 capuchin monkeys, a tamarind monkey, a
kinkajou (which was asleep), a lot of dogs, and the howlers. I was impressed by
the dedication and independence of the volunteers. Everyone had their task for
the week, knew their time, and just went ahead and did it. During the
afternoon, I was allowed to help out with the wooly monkey’s cage, and we went
out to get the leaves, and even chopped down a tree for their enclosure. No one
checked on us, no one questioned the tree we had chosen, or even where it went.
Frank and Jenna completely trusted us to make the right decision.
I arrived at the perfect time for one of the volunteers, as Robin, a British girl, has been beaten by one of the capuchin earlier that week. She was glad to hear about my Othello (howler monkey) bite and how it happened. She showed me her wounds and I showed her my shoulder, which is now scar less. It is the danger to working with wild animals. You never know what their instinct is telling them at the moment. It is hard to put off the right vibes when your own instincts kick in, and you just have to react. Whatever reaction you have is not right or wrong, it is just is. Monkeys are wild animals, and like all wild animals they defend their troop from intruders, that includes us.
After my day of volunteering, I thanked everyone and gave them the chocolate they asked me to bring and more. The volunteers don’t really get to go into town for food. I brought some mac ‘n’ cheese, some blankets, a million types of snacks and some anti-diarrhea medication (Bovine collustrum so they can use it on the monkeys has well). I said good bye to the animal, and fed Selva (the little tamarind, a very very small monkey) a fat grasshopper before heading to the taxi.
The taxi dropped me off right at the police check point,
where I waited for a bus to Banos to stop by for control, then hopped on it and
went home. Bryan and Matt (one of the Canadians I met yesterday at the hostel)
where on their way to the hot spring, so my last night in Banos was spent at
the hot springs of Santa Agua, just like my first night in town.
Today, I am heading back to Quito for the night, as I am
departing Ecuador to re-enter the real world of adulthood, where one most work
and create lesson plans and be full of energy for the 20 little monkeys I have
in front of me for 45 minutes a day.
3/23/2016
Let's loosen those muscles up!
I left for Banos yesterday mid-afternoon. The bus was
incredibly easy to find and the transportation flew by. It was pretty like a
Megabus, but with an actual bus terminal, not like that side street we have in
Philly. I didn’t do much on my last morning in Quito. I felt worst the before,
and I went out for ice cream and to the bank, but as soon as I returned I was
so out of breath that I needed to sit down for a couple minutes before I could
even have my second coffee of the day.
Bryan joined in the travel, which was nice to have someone
to chat with on the bus, and even a familiar face in Banos. After three hours,
we arrived at the bus station, I paid for a taxi to my hostel, which has a pug
named Maya. Let me tell you, a pug does make all the difference. I have been
obsessed with that little munchkin since day one.
The weather does not look very promising for much fun this
week, but I am very happy to be done with the sun shining on my poor little
skin. After gathering myself in my very own private room, I set out to have
some dinner. I had some pizza with some patacones con queso. It was a lot of
food, but I was starving as I didn’t have lunch! I walked over to the only
thermal bath open at night: La piscine de la virgin. It was crowded. Full of
Ecuadorians. Everyone was incredibly comfortable with the little space and
brushing against each other. Expect for the occasional foreigner that was
hugging himself/ herself trying to find a little spot of water.
I immediately started talking to three little Ecuadorian
girls who kept staring at me, and for the full hour and a half we chatted about
school life, their ambitions, and their favorite things to do. Jeez, were they
talkative! I practiced a lot of my Spanish with them, but they also warmed up
to me and asked me a lot of English questions. At the end of the night, we took
a picture together, and promised to look each other up on Facebook.
I went out into town later that night, and it was hopping!
Unlike Quito, which was dead when I was there, this little town has every shop
open, and every restaurant is busy. I just had to try their sugar cane taffy,
as it is their local candy. So after a nice warm bath, a nice cozy walk down
city center, I went and had myself candy. It was 11pm when I went to bed, and I
felt half normal for once. I was able to breath like a normal person, my cough
has receded to disgusting phlegm infused fit, and I was out like a young
person!
I went to bed completely satisfied with this little rainy
town.
This morning I woke up extra early. I guess the teacher in
me is still ready for school. Breakfast was a feast of bread, eggs, avocados,
butter, jelly, croissants, and coffee. Except I had to take my dumb medication ruined
any beverage. Bryan went water rafting, but I decided against it. My last two
adventures were both pretty extreme, and I had no desire to continue testing
the limit with this extreme activity.
Instead, I went on a little hike down to … I have no idea. I
ended up having to ask someone to give me a lift back into town, because I had
no clue where I was, or I had gotten there. If it helps out, the car ride took
five minutes. My walk probably was 15 mns. Yet, this was a completely different
part of Banos, more residential and very quiet. There were some very beautiful
views and gardens, but nothing for me to do. I caught a taxi to the zoo, since
it was near a waterfall and an actual hiking path. I was skeptical about the
zoo, as this is a tiny town in Ecuador, but everyone on TripAdvisor was raving
about it. So, I went. Aw man, was I disappointed. I will not go into details,
but I will tell you the most upsetting thing I saw. There were two owls. Two
different species of owls, in a walled off enclosure. One of them had killed
the other, and was starting to eat his legs. I sat there for a while, waiting
for the dead owl to wake up, because how could this happen right?
No, no, once I brought it up to the ticket employee, she
assured me they already knew and thanked me to bring it up to their attention.
I was pretty dumbfounded, and left the zoo early for my hike. I didn’t need to
see the lions, the reptiles or the fish to know that this was just going to
continue making me mad.
I went on my hike to see Cascade Ines Maria. The hiking path barely looked like a hiking path, but I figured that I already got lost once today, what are the chances of a second time. Not very high. I followed the path and found the waterfall right away. I collected some rocks and laid down for a bit. Above me were flacons and condors flying around, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how happy they were compared to the ones in that miserable zoo.
I came back to the hotel and had Maya give me a second
shower. She was so excited to see me, and I was so excited to see her, we both
looked like big dummies. I relaxed for a bit, and then decided to go to El
Mercado, a huge market for lunch and to the hot springs again for this afternoon.
So far, it is been quite the relaxation trip here in Banos!
3/22/2016
High Altitude Bronchitis and Sunburns will not stop me
The great thing about hostels is the people you meet. In
order to make some quick friendship, you have to be open to accepting the help
of some strangers. As I said last, I was looking for a lunch spot, and I had
seen this man talking to the front desk, a lot. I saw at breakfast, and here he
was again. So, naturally, I approached him with a pretty far-fetched question
such as “Are you the owner of this place?”. With a chuckle, he replied no, and
asked me why and if I needed help and he quickly gave me the name of a local
place to eat. It was a restaurant right down the street from our temporary
residence. I went ahead and ordered the fish soup, and the fried fish. While I
was on my phone, trying to figure out where I was staying in Banos, my next
city, my new friend popped in and sat next to me.
Michel is from Quebec. He is a carpenter, and most
importantly a huge world traveler. He lived in India for five years in total,
and has been in Ecuador for two months. I tried to get as much information out
of him as possible. He told me about three great museum to get check out, the
first was the Gayasamin museum, one was the museum of contemporary art and instrument and the last one was the
museum of astronomy which was pretty close. The only museum open on a Sunday
afternoon was the Gayasamin.
And boy was I not disappointed. Gayasamin is an Ecuatorian
artist who mostly painted the agony and languish of the South American people.
He started with the colonization, the mezclados, and continued with the
enslavement of the African people and in later years even the Vietnam war. His
painting are so simply painted, blocks of colors, sometimes just primary
colors, yet there is such details in the hair, the long fingers and the eyes,
that it is hard to be pulled away from one of his giant work of art. At first,
I thought that it would be a small museum, mostly something to do on random.
I’ve been to most of the major museum in Europe millions of time, and not once,
I had heard of Gayasamin, so how important could he be?
After his museum, we were given a tour of his house. There
were hundreds of donations from some of the most famous painters. His picture
was posted on the wall with some of the most important leaders around the
world. Didn’t I feel like a silly little white girl, waking around thinking she
knows best about art. I did end up buying some postcards which I will send on
Monday when the post office is open.
I took a taxi back to my hotel, as Quito is a very long city. Stuck in between two mountains, it takes up most of the valley. We passed the American Embassy, which is tucked away in the forest behind barbed wires.
Once back at the hostel, I went for a little coffee and
tried to relax. The view of the city is so spectacular that all I wanted to do
was get back out there. I took one look in the mirror though to realize how
badly sunburnt I was. I did put on sunscreen, I promise. On my face, and my
arm. I forgot my chest and the back of my knees (I am white. Every part
counts). Even my face had streaks of red across it, marking me as a bigger
foreigner than I already am. The sun in Quito is not forgiving, especially high
up in the mountain and at noon. I decided to rest up and rehydrate before I got
sun poisoning and ruin my little adventure.
So I stayed on the terrace, and enjoy the company of two
other Canadians. As the temperature dropped, I realized I had brought only a
light jacket, and pants were out of the questions as the back of my knees were
burning up (Ironic, uh?). So we sat and
played quizzo with my two new roommates, two goofballs from the United States.
Needless to say, we didn’t win trivia, but to be fair we were all pretty tired
from our respective day, so we were not looking forward to staying past our
group activity.
The Canadians and I were hoping to go out into the city at
night, but it has been recommended to stay in unless you know exactly where you
are going. Many times, and many people have warn us how dangerous Quito can be
at night. It was so hard to see the shining light by the church and the twinkles
of people walking around while being stuck high up in a hostel. Really, all I
wanted to end this day was a delicious ice cream cone and a quick walk through
the beautiful European architecture that is Historical Quito.
That night, our fourth roommate arrived at 1 am. His arrival
was abrupt, very similar to mine. Lights were turned on, the security guard
spoke with his outdoor voice and keys were jiggled. The poor man felt the shame
that I felt barely 24 hours ago and tried to undress and get in his bed as
quickly as possible. The American guys left this morning for the amazon, so I
will be left to make new friends again. Michel, my go-to guy is composing me a
list of places I should go from his Lonely Planet guide book as I was typing
this (7am- the teacher in me is not quite put to rest yet).
Early in the morning, before my free walking tour, I went to
the Basilica del Voto de Ecuador. If you go prior to 9am, you get to go in for
free (otherwise it is two dollars). I wanted to wait to climb the tower, but I
have developed a cough, and shortness of breath, so I vetoed it. I have been up
plenty of church towers, and I went to see Quito from up high on Sunday.
The walking tour was incredible. I have been incredibly
lucky in stumbling upon celebrations by accident. We started at the Basilica,
and went to Plaza Grande, where they had the most intricate changing of the
guards I have seen. Not only was there a lot of guards, but the president is
required to be present, and wave at the people and blow kisses (well, I am not
sure if he is required to do blow kisses, but he did). We tried a foamy dessert
made out of eggs called Ponche, which is very Ecuadorian. It. Was. So. Sweet.
Turns out South americans love sweet things, but like
rotting-your-teeth-on-the-spot sweet. I couldn’t finish it, and I can’t imagine
someone finishing it ever.
We headed over to a couple covenants and another plaza where Quito is starting to build their metro. So in four years, Quito will have much better common transportation.
We headed over to a couple covenants and another plaza where Quito is starting to build their metro. So in four years, Quito will have much better common transportation.
After the adventure I went to La Rhonda, a little merchant street.
They had toys from back in medieval time. I went to the only local looking
place and had a local soup you are supposed to have on Easter. It is called
Fanesca, and it is made out of 7 Ecuadorian seeds (Yes. Corn is one of them). I
had my first empanada as well while being here. Jeeze I couldn’t finish my
meal. It was so filling and so delicious.
I went back to the hotel after a bit of souvenir shopping
and finding the post office. Everyone will receive postcards, no worries. I had
to rest due to my lungs. I went to the pharmacy to try to get help, and receive
three medications, ranging from asthma to bronchitis. Later, I will google it
and find out I have high altitude bronchitis, so as soon as I arrive in Banos I
should start to feel better.
In the evening, my new roommate, Brian, and the two Canadians
I met earlier went to a microbrewery called “Los bandidos” to enjoy some real
beers. If I had to have one more glass of Pilsner or Brahma I would have lost
it. We did take an adventure later to Mariscal Sucre, where everything was
absolutely dead. I went back to the hotel to try to rest while the rest of the
group went back out.
Today, I am not sure if I will go to any museums, but the
teleferico is out of the questions (altitude: 14000ft) and the parks are a big
no-no (I got the white people curse, where I get sun burnt at any contact with
the sun). But I must re-pack, pay for my meals and room, and depart for Banos
by public bus, which I am sure will be another adventure!
3/20/2016
First day- in travel and on the ground.
Michelle and Pat dropped me off at the airport on their way
to a flyers game. I wish I could say that I had never seen an emptier airport,
but having been in airport at the wee hours of the night, I have seen nearly
abandoned airports. I didn’t have suitcases, and had checked in early. My new
Iphone warned me that my flight was delayed, and all my brain could tell me was
“oh, and here is the first thing.” I had a connection in Miami to
Quito, and with this 30 minutes delay, I had a guarantee of a light jog to my
next gate. I sat myself at a bar by my gate and enjoyed my book, lunch and a
couple Bloody Marys. It seemed like the most appropriate drink to celebrate my
departure of the state, and maybe the country.
At this point, my brain couldn’t let me enjoy my traveler’s
light reading without having to check if the flight was even more delayed. My
favorite part of flying so frequently is the miles that come along with it. But
the true best part is my little “Gold” member card. While everyone stacks
themselves at the boarding gate, similarly to cattle, I waited to the side until
they called out propriety seating.
That’s right, while you guys lined up like
idiots, blocking the way and trying to rudely be first on the place, I destroyed your concepts and beliefs and jumped the line to be right in front of you.
NOT THAT IT HELPED, AS I SAT IN THE PLANE FOR A GOOD 45
MINUTES.
Let me tell you, we left an hour later. My anxiety took the
best of me, and I sat in my spacious seat, overwhelmed with the thought of
having to stay in Miami for a night, when I already have such a short vacation.
How dare you American Airlines. How dare you.
Well, in the good fashion and tradition that is American
Airlines flight, my next flight was also delayed. So I did not stay in Miami.
I encountered two girls from Philadelphia who were also
traveling to Quito on my second flight, and were teachers. What a coincidence! I helped them get
through customs as they knew no Spanish, and one hadn’t traveled in years. But,
after a good 12 hours of travel in the air, and in airports, I found my way to
a very quiet and sleepy Quito. My taxi driver was my height (which is apparently common in Ecuador), and the most
patient little man in the world, as I forgot to take money out to pay him and I
had him drive around the city to find an ATM.
My poor roommates got awaken by my hassling around the room
to get my stuff and myself situated. After a good night of sleep, I explored my
hostel, which is absolutely beautiful. Breakfast is offered on the terrace, and
I enjoyed an inspiring view of Quito. After breakfast and a much needed shower,
I decided to take it upon myself to get lost and get familiar with the city.
Suddenly I decided I would climb up Mt. Panecillo and go see
El virgin de Quito up close and personal. Of course, I was not going to take a
bus, or taxi, or even the familiar route. It is a mountain. All I would have to
do in theory is to go up, and I will get there.
On my way, I encountered a parade for Palm Sunday, and
followed along as tons of worshipers where singing hymns and carrying a statue
of dead Jesus sitting on his throne. Some of the citizens were weaving palms
leaves and making them into little crosses or bouquets for people to offer at
their church. I followed the parade until it took a turn down the hill. They
had brought me to Parque Lineal, which is way south of town. It was still at the base of this gigantic mountain, therefore, I could still test out my theory.
I climbed up what
felt like a million stairs, and found myself in the ghettos of El Panecillo. As
I said, I just kept climbing the hill. It was me and one old Ecuadorian who was
doing much better than me in terms of cardio. That hour of Yoga a week is a joke.
As I was two minutes away from El virgin, a pack of dogs
stopped me in my tracks. Those little bastards were obviously protecting their
territory, and at the same time, about to ruin my valiant efforts of seeing my first
tourist attraction. Hold and behold, my little old Ecuadorian shows up to
nowhere and tells me to keep on trekking. She throws a branch my way, and
continued to her house. I stood there, texting my friends to make sure they
would know why I got mauled and by what, and how I wasn’t truly to blame.
Little did I know, dogs are scared of branches. They scattered and ran up the
hill while their owner came out and was surprised to see me standing with no
bites. She walked up with me the little path while we chatted about her dogs,
which she rescued and how I was their leader now. Sure enough, they followed
me around, and fought other dogs nearby. If I didn’t stand out before, now I
sure did as the queen of dogs.
I didn’t realize today was the Equinox, and so after
admiring the giant status and trying to lose the pack of dogs, I sat myself
down to observe a traditional dance performed by the locals. It was quite a
beautiful contrast between El domingo Ramos and El equinoccio. After enjoying it
for a bit, I noticed the dogs had run off, probably to fight someone else or
some other dogs so I quickly hopped on the local bus to get back home.
If anyone knows me, or has tried to get anywhere with me, we
know the one skills I do not have is the skill of direction. After asking a
couple cops, I made my way back home. Next is to find a delicious lunch, which
I think I deserve, and I am definitely going to a museum and staying away
from
packs of dogs (even though I kept my branch).
But for now,
Hasta luego amigos!
3/16/2016
Pre-Ecuador
Here I am. Off to another trip again.
This time, I will try my hardest and bestest to keep this blog alive, unlike the other two trips I took, which were hectic.
The truth of the matter is, I am much more inclined to keep a blog alive when I travel alone. There is a good chance you will have reading material for a week starting Saturday.
With that said, there is a little bit of information that I have no revealed to a lot of my friends. I was diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, and even though, most of my generation can relate in some way shape or form to this crippling disorder, it has recently turned me into a crabby individual.
See, I could have told you I had anxiety, everyone can. At the age of 6, I remember having belly pains about going to school. At the age of 10, I remember inviting everyone at my birthday party so no one would feel left out. At the age of 16, I remember pinching my arms, waiting by my boyfriend's class to see if he got a good grade on his test. At the age of 21, I remember canceling my birthday party because I couldn't endure the imminent lack of interest. At the age of 22, I remember booking a flight to Costa Rica in order to get away from the crushing pressure of adulthood. At the age of 23, I remember being on medication so I could go through my daily routine without a panic attack. At the age of 24, I remember not eating because my stomach was back at twisting itself. At the age of 25, I booked a flight to Ecuador and drowned myself in work so I wouldn't have to glare at my harsh reality.
This trip isn't just a fun spring break trip by myself. I am taking this trip to Ecuador, as a sort of mental/ emotional rejuvenation. Since the school year started, 2015-2016 has not been very kind to this little cat lover. I have lost my dearest and closest living thing, Kitten/ Nala, to a sudden and inexplicable illness. I've had countless failures at my new teaching job, failed relationships, fading friendships and unfortunately, in the most recent events, two more deaths to add to the list. Those were people I admired greatly for their work ethic and the passion they carried out with zerp expectation from society.
This has left me in shambles to say the least, and I know understand when people say "When it rains, it pours."
If I was still talking to my therapist, she would reiterate " You don't mind getting stabbed, but you are afraid of the paper cuts." With years behind me now, I know exactly why I don't mind getting stabbed.
First, biologically speaking, your body releases endorphin after a stab. The body protects itself from the tremendous pain that it suffers. For a paper cut, the body does nothing. For that matter, in my experience, a paper cut doesn't even heal within a week, it is bothersome and it gets infected one way or another.
Second, statistically speaking, I am much less likely to experience a stab than a paper cut. This year has been full of paper cut. Every month, I've sliced my finger on a piece of blank paper.
Third, from metaphorical experience, getting stabbed makes for an awesome story. Paper cuts are just downers.
Don't get me wrong, I have had plenty of joyful moment. I have had the luck to have a new little furball, Rebel. I've worked hard enough to be accepted into Graduate School. My principals and department head are giving me glowing reviews across the board. I've been lucky in many ways.
Unfortunately, the chemicals in my brains and my current interactions are not conducive to my happiness, and so it is with a very light heart and very much anticipation that I will be boarding that plane (even though American Airlines canceled all my miles. Effing Noodle Heads).
I can't wait to share my experiences. As always, this will be blocks of texts rather than pictures.
(One day, I will get on the pictures thing, for now, enjoy the good old medium of imagination)
This time, I will try my hardest and bestest to keep this blog alive, unlike the other two trips I took, which were hectic.
The truth of the matter is, I am much more inclined to keep a blog alive when I travel alone. There is a good chance you will have reading material for a week starting Saturday.
With that said, there is a little bit of information that I have no revealed to a lot of my friends. I was diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, and even though, most of my generation can relate in some way shape or form to this crippling disorder, it has recently turned me into a crabby individual.
See, I could have told you I had anxiety, everyone can. At the age of 6, I remember having belly pains about going to school. At the age of 10, I remember inviting everyone at my birthday party so no one would feel left out. At the age of 16, I remember pinching my arms, waiting by my boyfriend's class to see if he got a good grade on his test. At the age of 21, I remember canceling my birthday party because I couldn't endure the imminent lack of interest. At the age of 22, I remember booking a flight to Costa Rica in order to get away from the crushing pressure of adulthood. At the age of 23, I remember being on medication so I could go through my daily routine without a panic attack. At the age of 24, I remember not eating because my stomach was back at twisting itself. At the age of 25, I booked a flight to Ecuador and drowned myself in work so I wouldn't have to glare at my harsh reality.
This trip isn't just a fun spring break trip by myself. I am taking this trip to Ecuador, as a sort of mental/ emotional rejuvenation. Since the school year started, 2015-2016 has not been very kind to this little cat lover. I have lost my dearest and closest living thing, Kitten/ Nala, to a sudden and inexplicable illness. I've had countless failures at my new teaching job, failed relationships, fading friendships and unfortunately, in the most recent events, two more deaths to add to the list. Those were people I admired greatly for their work ethic and the passion they carried out with zerp expectation from society.
This has left me in shambles to say the least, and I know understand when people say "When it rains, it pours."
If I was still talking to my therapist, she would reiterate " You don't mind getting stabbed, but you are afraid of the paper cuts." With years behind me now, I know exactly why I don't mind getting stabbed.
First, biologically speaking, your body releases endorphin after a stab. The body protects itself from the tremendous pain that it suffers. For a paper cut, the body does nothing. For that matter, in my experience, a paper cut doesn't even heal within a week, it is bothersome and it gets infected one way or another.
Second, statistically speaking, I am much less likely to experience a stab than a paper cut. This year has been full of paper cut. Every month, I've sliced my finger on a piece of blank paper.
Third, from metaphorical experience, getting stabbed makes for an awesome story. Paper cuts are just downers.
Don't get me wrong, I have had plenty of joyful moment. I have had the luck to have a new little furball, Rebel. I've worked hard enough to be accepted into Graduate School. My principals and department head are giving me glowing reviews across the board. I've been lucky in many ways.
Unfortunately, the chemicals in my brains and my current interactions are not conducive to my happiness, and so it is with a very light heart and very much anticipation that I will be boarding that plane (even though American Airlines canceled all my miles. Effing Noodle Heads).
I can't wait to share my experiences. As always, this will be blocks of texts rather than pictures.
(One day, I will get on the pictures thing, for now, enjoy the good old medium of imagination)
3/08/2016
Vegan Chai Chocolate chip cookies
A little recipe to keep under my wind.
Fully vegan, but not gluten free.
1 1/4 cup of brown sugar
1/4 cup of sugar
2 1/4 cup of flour
1 teaspoon of baking soda
3/4 teaspoon of salt
Ground cloves
Ground ginger
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
Chocolate chip
6 Tablespoon of almond milk
1/4 cup of apple sauce
2 teaspoon of vanilla
1/4 vegetable oil
Mix all together.
Refrigerate for an hour.
Bake at 375F
Fully vegan, but not gluten free.
1 1/4 cup of brown sugar
1/4 cup of sugar
2 1/4 cup of flour
1 teaspoon of baking soda
3/4 teaspoon of salt
Ground cloves
Ground ginger
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
Chocolate chip
6 Tablespoon of almond milk
1/4 cup of apple sauce
2 teaspoon of vanilla
1/4 vegetable oil
Mix all together.
Refrigerate for an hour.
Bake at 375F
7/09/2015
Animals for everyone!
The Jaguar Rescue Center is PACKED with volunteers, to the point that it is annoying and stressful. At La Ceiba, it is so relaxing and we are alone in the jungle, where I don't have to hear people constantly complaining about the amount of people there and their right to do whatever they want. I don't have to be frustrated and surrounded by people.
The very first event I got to experience at JRC was the neutering of the deer, Xoi. I really only got to look at it from far away, but it was so cool to see the vet operate on a sleeping animal. As much as I enjoyed it, I was very stressed, and kept calm by washing dish after dish.
While everyone is hustling and trying to act like they are the busiest person on the center, I am just trying to keep my six tiny volunteers busy. They are so wonderful in the sense that they are always willing to help, and doing the best they can. It is hard to make them realize that this opportunity is not only wonderful but they are six in thirty to be able to be near the monkeys, the margay, the anteater, the raccoons, the sloths and the birds all in the same week.
I do find some quiet moment at the center as well though. The police has just brought over a giant turtle which was hunted for its meat. It was found in the trunk of a car, fins tied, holes from harpoons in his shell. The center quickly constructed a "little" bassinet in the back of the new nursery (away from the tours and the people) and the kids grabbed sea water for him. Our job was to count his breath. This was my first time seeing a sea turtle (THEY ARE HUGE), but it was also seeing them breath. They sound like they haven't breathed in ten minutes... oh wait, they catch their breath every ten minutes! And boy and oh boy, they catch their breaths. The first time I heard it, it made me jump. I did think he was dying, but that's just what they do. Turtle's gonna do what turtles do.
The center also has the cutest little kitten Margay, McCarthy, who is making me miss my kitten so much. I know she is well, and she is loved, but not seeing everyday whenever I want to is hard. Having a whole bed to myself is just not the same. I did get to play with him which was incredibly lucky, but I would still rather play with little baby kitten Nala. August 12th will be a great reunion of two souls, whatever she truly wants it or not.
I have been here for two weeks, and even though I feel like I never felt, the rescue center feels very different. It is not quite the same with all of my campers, and even with the rest of the volunteers it is not always as enjoyable. There is too many strong personalities that I do not enjoy, and too many people who are not there for the good of the place.
And then, you encounter the one person who revives that serenity in you. That one volunteer who is here for just the right reasons, and it makes me feel like where I was two years ago, with all my friends, and all my babies.
I do miss the peace I felt back then, and this does feel like a job, but it is really not the worst job to have!
The very first event I got to experience at JRC was the neutering of the deer, Xoi. I really only got to look at it from far away, but it was so cool to see the vet operate on a sleeping animal. As much as I enjoyed it, I was very stressed, and kept calm by washing dish after dish.
While everyone is hustling and trying to act like they are the busiest person on the center, I am just trying to keep my six tiny volunteers busy. They are so wonderful in the sense that they are always willing to help, and doing the best they can. It is hard to make them realize that this opportunity is not only wonderful but they are six in thirty to be able to be near the monkeys, the margay, the anteater, the raccoons, the sloths and the birds all in the same week.
I do find some quiet moment at the center as well though. The police has just brought over a giant turtle which was hunted for its meat. It was found in the trunk of a car, fins tied, holes from harpoons in his shell. The center quickly constructed a "little" bassinet in the back of the new nursery (away from the tours and the people) and the kids grabbed sea water for him. Our job was to count his breath. This was my first time seeing a sea turtle (THEY ARE HUGE), but it was also seeing them breath. They sound like they haven't breathed in ten minutes... oh wait, they catch their breath every ten minutes! And boy and oh boy, they catch their breaths. The first time I heard it, it made me jump. I did think he was dying, but that's just what they do. Turtle's gonna do what turtles do.
The center also has the cutest little kitten Margay, McCarthy, who is making me miss my kitten so much. I know she is well, and she is loved, but not seeing everyday whenever I want to is hard. Having a whole bed to myself is just not the same. I did get to play with him which was incredibly lucky, but I would still rather play with little baby kitten Nala. August 12th will be a great reunion of two souls, whatever she truly wants it or not.
I have been here for two weeks, and even though I feel like I never felt, the rescue center feels very different. It is not quite the same with all of my campers, and even with the rest of the volunteers it is not always as enjoyable. There is too many strong personalities that I do not enjoy, and too many people who are not there for the good of the place.
And then, you encounter the one person who revives that serenity in you. That one volunteer who is here for just the right reasons, and it makes me feel like where I was two years ago, with all my friends, and all my babies.
I do miss the peace I felt back then, and this does feel like a job, but it is really not the worst job to have!
7/02/2015
Jaguar Rescue center, Welcome back!
Today was my very very first day at "La Ceiba". This is truly a magical place that I have only heard of is out in the jungle, with no phone service and no internet. It is a very secluded little community of one family and two volunteers at the moment (about to be zero volunteers by next Wednesday).
The group had to split up as we were such a big group, there wasn't enough work for us at just the rescue center. I decided to go to "La Ceiba" to make sure that my 6 little volunteers were not struggling alone. Of course, they were mesmerized by the jungle, and by the beauty of the community in general. All the houses being built by hand, without cranes and the roofs being made out of woven banana leaves.
I was also, and remembered why I fell in love with this town. The one long term volunteer (Dayana) had recently adopted a little orange kitten who was nearly just as wild as the ocelot. I wish I could have brought it to our hotel with me, and just kept him for six weeks. Borrow-a-kitten in Costa Rica could be an easy hit.
We spent the day doing a lot of maintenance work, which I forgot how tired it was. I should say I "conveniently" forgot. My body quickly remembered the proper way to rake which was taught by non-other than Jimmy, the only man I know to be drinking coffee out of water bottle and to be raking at the same time. My blister came back, so I will have once again peasant hands, instead of my dainty lady hands. But we were rewarded with some time with the animals, feeding them and spending some quality time with them.
I was a little sadden to hear that Shaki, the sweet little one eyed monkey had grown to attack women, and that like so many, after sexual maturity could not be around humans anymore. Tonino, who was a cry baby when I left him and had to be in someone's arms at all times, attacked a volunteer the week before we arrived and bit him in the neck.
This is a good reminder that wild animals are wild animals. No matter their behavior as babies, once they reach that hormone level, their instinct will kick in. They both will be released shortly, and will live happy lives with their little troop where they wont have to deal with human competition.
I also got to see Stanley again, the blind kinkajoo. I knew he would never be released, but I was happy to see that he was in a quieter environment, with still very loving volunteers. He was napping away as he is a nocturnal animal and it was good to see him actually have his little old man life- sleep all day, eat whatever he wants, hiss at whoever is on his lawn.
After our very hard day, we deserved some ice cream and I obviously went back to my favorite ice cream shop (which turns out, our driver recommended!).
To continue with the treats, the husband of the hostess at the hotel cut all of us coconut so we could slurp on the water and eat the meat. Turns out the couple is from Michigan and decided to move here for good. He was a digital/ technology teacher for four years until he came here, and produces some pretty sweet music video, including one showing off his skills and called it "Black Amish".
I promised him a shout out and therefore, here is the link to "Black Amish". Add it to your play list amigos!
7/01/2015
Weathered the storm
Pfew, I knew I would say it someday, but Costa Ricans are very aggressive and terrible driver. This is coming from me, who has had her fair share of accidents this year. Apparently, driving is not about sharing the road, but more about selfishly driving around the road to get to your destination.
If you get in a little accident in the process, that's why we have American Engineers to make crumble zones and lovely airbags.
While we are going through a tropical storm (okay I might be exaggerating, it was really heavy rain that felt like a tropical storm), and our dear driver Luis could barely see ahead of him, the campers kept on laughing and joking around.
My heart stopped a couple times on the road. Eventually, after 6 hours of driving, we made it to our little Cabinitas which are in the middle of the jungle, yet right in front of the beach.
None of us needed to even think of the Wifi password, as all we wanted to do was sleep.
The next day we woke up bright and early and were ready to see the animals. After a chaotic moment at the center, where it was quite obviously they were not ready to have such a large group of people coming to help, and yet, after taking charge everyone had a little job. Whatever it be scrubbing down the walls, or raking the leaves, everyone was hard at work contributing to the little community.
The kids joined in the tours, while I went around and said my hellos to everyone who I had missed so dearly.
Marloes was working the tours, the nursery and enrichment, which takes care of making sure the animals were kept healthy mentally.
Nerea was now in charge of the volunteers and giving everyone a job.
Picchio was still being his silly self, getting into motorcycle accidents and bothering the Nerea monkey and Nerea human.
Encar and Sandro gave me a big hug and a big kiss on the cheek, surprised to see me again. It felt I was coming back home from college and everyone had change, yet nothing had change at the same time.
We finished early, as there was a lot of us, and not enough jobs. The kids got to babysit some of the animals, but we had errands and everyone was STARVING. Luis, our driver extroardinaire, recommended us this great little restaurant and everyone ate, went groceries shopping (some for the first time) and tonight we will all have to cook our lunch for tomorrow.
It is cute to see the teenagers having to pick their own food and decide on something to eat other than ramen noodles or pasta. Yet, they all managed to come up with a little something.
Today is beach as it is the first sunny day in a long time and then it will be cooking and a night out in time!
Pura vida mis amigas.
If you get in a little accident in the process, that's why we have American Engineers to make crumble zones and lovely airbags.
While we are going through a tropical storm (okay I might be exaggerating, it was really heavy rain that felt like a tropical storm), and our dear driver Luis could barely see ahead of him, the campers kept on laughing and joking around.
My heart stopped a couple times on the road. Eventually, after 6 hours of driving, we made it to our little Cabinitas which are in the middle of the jungle, yet right in front of the beach.
None of us needed to even think of the Wifi password, as all we wanted to do was sleep.
The next day we woke up bright and early and were ready to see the animals. After a chaotic moment at the center, where it was quite obviously they were not ready to have such a large group of people coming to help, and yet, after taking charge everyone had a little job. Whatever it be scrubbing down the walls, or raking the leaves, everyone was hard at work contributing to the little community.
The kids joined in the tours, while I went around and said my hellos to everyone who I had missed so dearly.
Marloes was working the tours, the nursery and enrichment, which takes care of making sure the animals were kept healthy mentally.
Nerea was now in charge of the volunteers and giving everyone a job.
Picchio was still being his silly self, getting into motorcycle accidents and bothering the Nerea monkey and Nerea human.
Encar and Sandro gave me a big hug and a big kiss on the cheek, surprised to see me again. It felt I was coming back home from college and everyone had change, yet nothing had change at the same time.
We finished early, as there was a lot of us, and not enough jobs. The kids got to babysit some of the animals, but we had errands and everyone was STARVING. Luis, our driver extroardinaire, recommended us this great little restaurant and everyone ate, went groceries shopping (some for the first time) and tonight we will all have to cook our lunch for tomorrow.
It is cute to see the teenagers having to pick their own food and decide on something to eat other than ramen noodles or pasta. Yet, they all managed to come up with a little something.
Today is beach as it is the first sunny day in a long time and then it will be cooking and a night out in time!
Pura vida mis amigas.
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