TravelStream™ news feed for member salsatiff on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/salsatiff en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Tue, 01 Jul 2008 18:14:35 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/2/1214500920/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/2/1214500920/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/2/1214500920/tpod.html Tue, 01 Jul 2008 18:14:35 -0400 A Yoga Tour through Europe: Voyage with the Shakti

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Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain and Canary Islands

My organic food lover friends would be ashamed as to why a pre-wrapped-pasteurized-freezer-burnt-stale-chocolate-hersheys-dipped ice cream cone can taste SO GOOD in the land of tapas and freshly made Sangria.  I'm roaming the streets with echoes of "I Need a Miracle" by Cascade coming from a distant bedroom window, weaving through the narrow alleys of a monastic town.  I'm trapped in the 80's, amidst a jagged limestone mountainous horizon and a statue of a black Virgin Mary that dates back to 50AD. This delicious ice cream dripping down the creases of my fingers is the only thing I've eaten all day and I am enjoying every last morsel.You'd think that the train arrival time of 1:08 would be an indication that this would be a nothing-less-than-perfect day, completely in the flow of nature.  Wrong.  I've been missing trains and buying the wrong (or maybe the right) tickets all day long.  I'm certainly not complaining or excusing myself, but it could be the lack of sleep from a night (and morning) well spent with my buddies.  Dancing like a flashdance maniac to a live concert by Jack Johnson, G-Love and Mason Jennings at the Barcelona Olympic Stadium... followed by a palette of tapas that would put the La Jolla Roppongi's to shame and soft splashes of red and white Sangria in between. Joanna (my beautiful Salsa sista who is a teacher and surfer extraordinaire in Encinitas), Anne (a mutual friend) and her two brothers and I tore up the tapas bar till 3am... this I say partially under my breath since that's the time the Spanish women are gearing up, slipping on their low cut v-neck tanks and, loading up on lip gloss for a night on the town! Do they sleep here?So here I am, trying to find my way to Monserrat.  I've gotten off at the wrong destination twice already (my fault for not asking - but today was a day I didn't really want to talk to anyone).  It's just NO BUENO when you accidentally get off at the wrong stop, the next train isn't for another hour, you have to go #2, and there are no toilets anywhere in sight.  Let's just say walking feels awkwardly warm after speed-waddling to the nearest shady pine tree, dropping your drawers in Malasana (meanwhile praying to Shiva that no one is hunting birds nearby), taking a dump while hearing rattlesnakes in the proximity, and having to wipe with a rock, a sliver of driftwood, and three pieces of my precious journal paper.  Ouch. Double Ouch Ouch.Nevertheless, my pilgrimage to Monserrat continued and after finally asking a few people the "right" questions (and understanding the right answers), I am on a tram to the top of the 4,000 foot Monastery.  Since my trip to South America in 2006, I haven't had any problems with speaking in Latin countries.  My thpanish ith thtill thufficient exthept for this damn listhp thing I have to get uthed to.  The Spaniards/Catalans pronounce their "s" as "th".  That might be the perfect solution for all the children with lisps out there.  Send them to Spain and what was once an insecurity suddenly turns into the common bond!  I've been in Spain for four days now.  After 1 two-hour car ride, 4 plane rides, 3 layovers, 2 train rides and a 15 minute walk in less than 29 hours (for a free ticket using only 50,000 frequent flyer miles J), I am here.  It took me a while to get on track but I just keep thinking it's like an adventure race... except I don't have to mountain bike 100 miles and when I arrive to the transition area, I can have Sangria instead of Gatorade!  Arriving at the airport was a little shocking come to find out that they allow smoking everywhere in Spain.  Regardless, I felt at home arriving to a country full of brightly dressed and smiling people celebrating life. I actually found myself wanting to speak with an Argentine flair.  Spain is very similar to Argentina... (besides the fact that it is 9 times more expensive).  Oh, and everyone at home will be excited to know that gas is considered "cheap" in the states! Don't own a car in Barcelona unless you want to pay nearly $8.00/gallon for gasolina.  Spain, however, is considered a first world country and the worst crime that made the headlines of the newspaper was a tourist getting pick-pocketed.  (No, her name was not Tiffany.) Spain knows how to turn up the volume compared to Argentina.  This is the first time in my life I have every had to wear ear plugs while sleeping, and I can still hear Lucia and Julio making out in the back of the bar across the street. Trevor's apartment is super cool.  His glass living room wall overlooks the entire alleyway and a wine bar.  It rests at the base of Montjuic Hill which overlooks all of Barcelona and is the foundation to a magic fountain, a castle and a Spanish Village.  He is a skip away from the infamous La Rambla, the best known landmark of Barcelona.  You can't visit here without haphazardly bouncing into this street that stretches from Plaza de Catalunya to the Columbus statue, filled with newspaper kiosks, flower and animal stalls, and street buskers galore. It is the melting pot of the tourists and locals, from the full body tattooed "trippies" to the blonde, freckled Swiss family of nine. If the street formers all formed a merry band, they could do some serious damage in Vegas.  From human devils sitting in treasure chests to puppet skeletons impersonating James Brown to a fully white painted yellow-toothed dude sitting on a toilet who makes farting noises and laughs when you drop a coin in his tin cup.  And if I thought the streets were wild during the days, the nights proved me a serious novice.  This IS the land of tapas, wine, socialism and passion.  Oh, and not to mention their impeccable passion for futbol.  I just so happen to arrive on the biggest day in futbol history as Spain won the European championships for the first time in 44 years! I haven't gotten to Southern Spain yet but the feel here is certainly romantic, historic and rich in culture.  The finishline-prayer-flag-streamline of clothes strung across the roof terraces and the narrow alleyways of cute triangular balconies and rod-iron doors remind me of the "City Streets" Show at Sea World (remember Kim?) Trevor and I busted out a handstand/arm balancing yoga sesh to live music of cool metal, oval spaceship drums, smack dab in the middle of the plaza King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella got down... just around the corner from where Columbus walked up the stairs and delivered the New World to her Highness in 1493. Lunches at sweet little corner cafes, sight seeing of Gaudi's houses (soon to see the park and Sagrada Familia tomorrow), visited Trevor's bar, Carabella.  Of course, I wouldn't expect anything less from our hip and social Trevor Hawkins... working at the funkiest bar in town that means "beautiful face" in Spanish and serves hummus and pita bread, fresh juice and rockin Platanella smoothies (Trev's invention of banana, milk, ice and cinnamon!) Mmmm.For those of you who don't know Trevor, he is my... "brudder". And I am his "sidder." Basically, our siblings, Chuck and Kim, are married.  We got tired of trying to label our relation.  "I'm his brother's wife's sister.  He's my sister's husband's brother." So now we're just "brudder" and "sidder" - or here... "Hermanos".  He has been such a gracious host letting me stay in his glass castle.  He has introduced me to all of his friends (No girls, no future husbands yet!) There's been a significant amount of socializing lately.  For this reason, I took a full day time out to do Montserrat... by myself.And by myself I am.  The trusty Cremallera (sounds like a pastry shop but it's really just a big green tram on tracks that takes you all the way up the mountain to where I originally wanted to go at 1:08pm.)  So now I stand in awe of this majestic stretch of ginormous (yes that's a word) limestone peaks that look like the fingers of the Rock Eater from The Neverending Story.  Some spires look a little more like male private parts excited to bathe in the summer sunshine.  Seems to be a theme lately, as Barcelona has this massive penis shaped building (The Torre Agbar, which people call the "Fallus" or literally the "Penis Building") that sticks straight out of the city neighborhoods and can be seen just about anywhere! (you gotta see the photo) Nobody wants to believe anymore that the iconography that the architect meant for the office tower was that of a fountain.  By night, it could certainly serve as a perfect ad for colored Trojans. (Sorry mom, I know I didn't need to share that detail, but it was too profound and metaphoric to pass up)... Spain is indeed, ALWAYS EXCITED!So back to the Montserrat.  The mountain range is Spectacular.  I arrive at the top of the cable car and am in Tiff Heaven! Dozens of trails that lead into tiny crevasses and soaring rock walls, 4 foot high doorways and old stone ovens and caves, and natural limestone staircases.  According to Catholic tradition, the statue of the Black Virgin of Montserrat was carved by St. Luke around 50 AD and brought to Spain. It was later hidden from the Moors in a cave (Santa Cova, the Holy Grotto), where it was rediscovered in 880 AD.  According to the legend of the discovery, the statue was discovered by shepherds. They saw a bright light and heard heavenly music that eventually led them to the grotto and the statue. I had my own little free-climb session (my sister would have probably shot me if she'd known I tried it without a rope).  I must say, I was practicing some major breathing, self-coaching and "om namah shivayas" along the climb. A little faith under my feet paid off as the view from the top was exalting.  I could see above all the climbers on the adjacent fingers and an aerial view of the monastery that caused me to reconsider my ability to fly.  I took a blissful nap in the sun, limbs extended in all directions, receiving kisses on my eyelids from the rays of the sunshine.  I meditated, sang Ommmms to the sacred holy piece of earth, and honored the grace of the Virgin Mary left many years ago.108 "Om Namah Shivayas" later, I was down the hill and in the Basilica to bust out a few Hail Mary's and listen to the choir and take photos of the candle vigilance in honor of my mother.  Yep mom, I went to church on Sunday!  A perfect ending to a rather adventurous day.Tomorrow I will hike the Pyrenees... the Alps of Spain.  Trevor and his consort, Saskia, are going to guide the group so it should be a blast.  Wednesday, I am off to visit a friend of the Anusara kula, Christine, in Granada... supposedly where the real Spanish Flamenco flair will be alive and ssssizzling.  We'll see if Shirley (my party girl counter personality) can hang with the twirly skirts and colored fans...Con Amor de Ethhhhpanya!Tiff
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1140539760/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1140539760/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1140539760/tpod.html Mon, 03 Apr 2006 13:00:03 -0400 South America: Una mujer... una exploracion de cultura... una realizacion de la naturaleza..y la liberacion de su alma.

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Iguazu Falls, Argentina

Never before in my life had anything literally taken the breath right out of me. Ive been on top of magnificent glaciers at sunrise, in the middle of thousands of acres of sand dunes with nothing else around but the sound of my own voice, I've been amidst the deepest valleys, the widest lakes, hell, I've nearly keeled over in hyperventilation from running lines in basketball practice... but never, I tell you... NEVER had anything literally STOLEN the breath right out of my lungs. That is... until I came across Las Cataratas de Iguazu...Iguazu Falls, namely the "most amazing waterfalls on earth" and from what I hear, Niagra is a toilet compared to this creation of nature... Thundering cascades that stretch over two kilometers, enveloped by dense jungle greenery. A vortex of energy swirling swirling swirling ... like my thoughts... but then washing every last drop into a stream of tranquil serenity that separates two fantastic countries, Brazil and Argentina. A turmoil of RUIDO (noise) accompanied by a profound bottomless silence of mystery and curiosity and splendor. Hmmm, have I been somewhere like that before???La Garganta del Diablo (AKA The Devils Throat) literally spoke to me as I stood with arms outstretched, hands in full absorbance of the energy of this majestic creature. I woke up at sunrise in order to be the first one to say "Buenos Dias" to the falls. The first to enter La Parque Nacional Iguazu, I ran past the tram full of tourists to be able to savor a few unforgettable, irreplaceable moments of just me and the Her Majesty. Whoah. I could feel the energy flowing through me, washing me anew... purifying every last cell in my body as well as the spaces in between. The tourists neared and I walked away peacefully in Namaste, face soaked not only from her powerful mist that sprayed from 500 meters below but also from the tears that had accumulated over what seemed like infinity, waiting oh so patiently to spill from my soul. I bowed in humble grace and tip-toed away on the clouds, thanking the Universe for my life.It turned out to be the best decision I could have ever made to have skipped over Machu Picchu and head directly for Buenos Aires. Everything that I had wanted in that "epoca de mi vida", was waiting for me in Argentina. It was like I was being completely guided by the Great Hand of the Universe... gracefully and subtly, yet intensely and directly.This is it. I walked into my top story apartment situated in the heart of the big city. This is the energy I have been searching for. Everything I thought of, dreamed of, wanted in the recent moments of my life was waiting for me here. Full of yellow, healing, natural light and a spaciousness of purity and detoxification. I felt nothing but a peaceful bliss come rushing over my entire body, mind and spirit. One breath and I was sobbing in tears of happiness. Is this real? Is this real, God?Now I know yall have heard me say this about nearly all the places I have been to in South America thus far, but this time it is for real... Confirmado. Punto. No hay duda ...Buenos Aires is the COOLEST South American city. I swear, it has this energy that gets into your blood with every footprint you leave behind. Cafes on every corner like Tortoni Cafe -(one of the first charming cafes of its time in Buenos Aires which now offers nightly tango shows and tasty "lagrimas") or La Paz Cafe (where, back in the day only those with a book in hand were allowed to enter only to participate in the intellectual conversation). There are parrillas (grills) in every nook and cranny (where the infamous Argentinian succulent carne (meat) is found)... rabbit, lamb, wild boar, steaks... tu eliges!)... I think I may be the first person on earth who actually turned Vegetarian right BEFORE arriving in Argentina! (hey, too much monkey and tapir in the jungle will do that to ya)...Running along the streets in the early a.m. and the bakers with their white aprons are sweeping the front of their stores with the big push brooms, Italian car mechanics with curly mustaches, in their cute little blue one-suits, swingin their rags outside the shop, monuments and magnificent architecture on every corner from antique apartment buildings to the Congressional monuments... La Casa Rosada, La Catedral, El Obelisco - centered in the middle of the "widest road in the world"... 24 Lanes! Yep, you gotta be Marion Jones to be able to get across before the electronic Red Hand stops you! Theater... wow. Impresionante! On Corrientes, you could literally find at least thirty theaters all offering events from comedy shows to cinema to opera to Broadway productions... Don Quijote, Tango por Dos, En Sus Zapatos, and some random off off off Broadway production with a transvestite director and lead... were among the favorites!And the Parks! Dont even get me started! The Fabulous Parks in Buenos Aires! HUMONGOUS! GINORMOUS! Grassy areas that go for miles covered in beautiful shady trees... I could run for days and not cover the same route twice! A Yoga Playground! On the weekends, hundreds of people walking, talking, laughing, sunbathing with their mate cups and termos llenos de agua caliente!BA is adorned with character... each corner has its own personality... From La Boca, where the infamous Boca Juniors tear up the futbol field (went to a game and saw Maradonna!), San Telmo still with a classic tango flavor... couples dancing on the sidewalk while a man on the corner plays his acordian, Palermo Hollywood and Palermo SoHo decorated with old fashioned light posts and sidewalk cafes by day... turns restaurant row and the heart of nightlife after 1am! Recoleta, home of the famous cemetary where Evita was buried. Two months in this fantastic city and I still didnt see everything! Home to 13 million proud "portenos", one cannot cover the immensity in so little time. Besides, I had found a nitch in my own neighborhood... La Escuela Internacional de Yoga - just 10 blocks from my apartment... taking all kinds of unique classes daily... Yoga integral, Ashtanga Vinyasa, Artistic Yoga, Yogatherapy, Zen Yoga... along with meditations... Bompu Zen and Hindu...all classes taught by gentle and delicate, yet demanding female instructors.My dance classes, also within walking distance... Tango, Salsa, Hip Hop... lo que sea! I tried it all. And inevitably fell HARD for Salsa. "A la derecha, a la izquierda, y los ojos - arriba, y el pecho - adelante... que dices? AAAAAAhhhh... Azucar!!!!!!!!!" I found myself completely submersed (nearly drowning) in this city FULL OF WONDER and MAGIC and intense energy, completely surrounded by everything that I LOVED (apart from my family and friends) and everything that made me BEAM and SHINE! It was like every time I stepped outside, I encountered something new, something fresh, something that gave me a new perspective and a new vigor. I was a diligent student of ULV..."La Universidad de la Vida"... the University of Life! Where you dont have to take any tests to get in. You dont have to do any interviews. You will be accepted regardless of your IQ or any stupid test scores, sex, race, age. There are no prerequisites. Hell, you needn't have worked a day in your life nor gone to any prior school. Extracurriculars, clubs, honors... no one cares. You don't even have to know how to speak! Everyone gets accepted and you can take as many classes as you want... and it doesn't HAVE to include Organic Chemistry or Statistics! You can skip whatever classes you want and still get an A! There are no grades and everything you do is perfect! There are NO mistakes but there is always room for improvement. You can do whatever you want as long as you absolutely LOVE what you are doing. Anyone wanna sign up?My life continued to unfold with the passing weeks. I began to encounter a side of Tiffany that I hadn't met before. A side that had been hiding for years, that was just screaming to come out and play. She revealed herself to me bit by bit, more and more, day by day, and for the first time in my life, I began to love her and accept her. It was like the child inside peering from the window while the rain falls pours down, just waiting, ever so patiently, to be allowed to play in the puddles. For years I could feel her presence... she sang softly in my ear, she laughed gently in the other... and upon my introduction into the many avenues of artistic expression in BA, she shot out of me like a cannon. All she needed was a little affection, and a lot of love.Dancing. Tango and Salsa... Her graceful femeninity began to spill out. There wasn't any way around it! Elegant posture and hand position, sexy skirts and high heels, delicate steps and sensual eye contact. My dance partner, Steffen (from Norway)... what a trooper! I have no idea how he managed to put up with me for 6 weeks of Tango! What!?!?!? Let the guy lead? Let go of all control? What does that mean?!? Follow?!? That word isnt in my vocabulary!!! Too funny. Thank you, Steffen for your patience! And Salsa! Oh Boy... thank the G - O - D for Irina, my personal dance instructor... who quite possibly, is the most strikingly gorgeous, elegant, femenine, delicate, petite young 21 year old lady I have ever met. Eyes of silver, a body of porcelein, and hands of an angel. But damn, demanding as all hell! "Brazos! Tiffany! Brazos!" "Postura! Queda feo asi! Postura Arriba!" "Susi Q! Giro!" God, I love that girl. She is a muneca of femeninity- graceful, poetic, lovely and inviting- and a statue of strength and dignity... all wrapped up in a beauty queen.I made more friends in BA than I did in my entire trip. Up until that point, I hadn't been able to really sink into the scene... to actually "live" like I would as if I were in the states. Its amazing how that can change one's entire experience, just by releasing and surrendering to the lifestyle of the culture. It opened up friendships that will I'm sure last a lifetime, relationships that somehow hold a different valor que en los estados unidos... Yes, there is something to be said about a connection between two people of completely different cultures, completely different backgrounds, finding a common energy around which to dance. It is a beautiful thing.And so now, the time has passed... and the time has come. I head back to Merida, Venezuela... completing a grand circle that I began over a year ago... to revisit old friends (and old, yet still fresh, emotions), to answer lingering questions, to fill in the little gaps that were created in the beginning. And by summertime, I will be on a plane headed back in San Diego (mind you, the last plane that will serve me a gourmet meal and my own personal bottle of wine as a refreshment without making me pay on top of the ticket!)... Arriving wide-eyed and bushy tailed - ready to reaquaint myself with the former chapter of my life, but with grand anticipation to begin yet another new epoca... nevertheless, returning to the place I physically call "home", surrounded once again by all the familiarities and comforts, surrounded once again by those who love me.But so goes it, this viaje of mine. I am constantly surrounded by people who love me, as well as people who I love in return. A magical world of wonder, unfolding beautiful surprise after beautiful surprise... and they just kept getting better and better as time went on. I was clearly being led by the Universe through every experience, wonderful and not-so-wonderful... discoveries, realizations, revelations, recollections, dreams revealed, passions ignited, weaknesses strengthened, egotisms humbled, expectations rejected, emotions liberated, vulnerabilities exposed, fears faced, loneliness comforted, struggles... well, I wouldn't say conquered, but maybe a little less intimidating.Perhaps Buenos Aires has captured a piece of my heart for more reasons than one. Possibly because it was the end of my trip and everything that I had come across over the previous 11 months was sitting in my hands, waiting to be artistically expressed. Perhaps the reduction of the language barrier allowed me to concentrate less... and to create and liberate more. Perhaps the freedom of being in a place where I DIDN'T feel like the minority gave me a little more confidence, less worry, and more space to BE myself instead of protect myself. Perhaps encountering all of the things that I felt I missed out on previously in life (due to my OWN decisions to play basketball and study medicine) gave me the opportunity to discover the little girl behind all of those tough walls of agression, anger, pain and fear. After months and months of uniquely genuine experiences, I realized that who I thought I was, wasn't who I am... and what I think is happening or is going to happen is just an illusion of my mind... and that no matter how much I think I realize, or that I think I find out,my life will always be...simply... a constant discovery of Tiffany.Que le vaya bien...Que Dios le entregue todo lo que merezca...Thanks for coming along for the ride.Until the next trip,Mil besos y abrazos...Keep rockin to the rhythm of La Pacha Mama...Con mucho amor, sol y paz.Tiffany
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1166626320/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1166626320/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1166626320/tpod.html Mon, 03 Apr 2006 12:30:16 -0400 South America: Una mujer... una exploracion de cultura... una realizacion de la naturaleza..y la liberacion de su alma.

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Buenos Aires, Argentina


]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1131649380/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1131649380/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1131649380/tpod.html Sat, 01 Apr 2006 13:16:49 -0500 South America: Una mujer... una exploracion de cultura... una realizacion de la naturaleza..y la liberacion de su alma.

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Lima, Peru

"Uno nunca elige esas cosas que adora, sino que por estar abierto a recibir y dar, son ellas las que lo eligen a uno.""One never chooses those things that they adore, but rather by being open to receiving and giving, it is those things that inevitably choose the individual."Well, interval time in between travelogues sure keeps getting longer and longer as the year goes by! It is certainly not due to the fact that I have less to share nor that I don't want to share, but rather the contrary... an overwhelming amount of life's little experiences that surely deserve exposure but in due time... And now I suppose the time is due. Upon nearing my return home, I have felt compelled to compile some sort of closure to everything... Perhaps my rational, perfectionist self wouldn't let me complete mi "gran viaje" without a few final travelogues to round off the edges. Nevertheless... pack your bags... we're gonna take a whirlwind tinker-toy sized tour through Peru, Argentina and Venezuela until the moment when I can chill on a grassy park in San Diego with a cup of mate (ha), some good friends, and get into the (what could be dangerously never-ending) story-telling groove.... .......It was only a hop, skip and a jump away from the magical Amazon and back into civilized life. A one hour plane ride and I went from swinging lazily on my hammock eating fresh Paiche to a Pearl Harbor bomb-like invasion of 9000 buses (that obviously hadn't been smog checked since since the 1800s), all honking at each other (and at the old lady crossing the street), pollution and trash on every corner, (Bueno, depending on the area of town), an evident division of the richest of the rich and the poorest of the poor, hustle and bustle, technology buzzing in my ears, bright billboards with Latina chicks in G-Strings artistically expressing their deep affinity for the national beer "Pilsener", huge department stores and malls, restaurants, nightclubs, and the oh so gratefully forgotten Starbucks and McDonalds! EEEEEEEEEK! What do I do? What do I do? Chai latte? Whats that? Jeez, I hardly even knew how to use a fork let alone wait for a little green man to start flashing before I crossed the street! Good God, help me. Welcome back Tiff. Back? Back to where? I didn't even know my reality anymore. Truly, my only savior as I entered into Lima, Peru, was that I got to see, taste and feel the Pacific Ocean for the first time in 7 months. I scooped an handful of salt water and washed my face in a sea of emotions... thoughts of my family and friends back home flushed through my heart... knowing that they too were swimming, surfing, playing in the same ocean that I was. I softened in the comfort of proximity to my loved ones as I sat in complete silence at the end of the jetty, breathing in the salty mist, watching the sun set over the Peruvian Coast. As the initial shock of modern-day life began to settle in, I started getting used to wearing sneakers and eating at restaurants, and I was able to appreciate my surroundings a bit more. And thanks to the amazing hospitality of mi querida "Familia Peruana", the Aliaga's, my two month stay in Peru turned out to be more wonderful than I had ever anticipated. For the first time in my trip, I had found a place where I felt like I belonged, where I felt comfortable communicating, where I felt surrounded by an intense love and embrace. Not that I hadn't found that with the Quintero's in Venezuela nor with my friends in Ecuador but for some reason, at this point in my trip, 9 months after leaving the states, I felt (for lack of better a better word) CAPABLE. Whether it was "capable" of communicating my desires and expressing my feelings in another language or "capable" (on a much deeper level perhaps) of who I was, what I believed in, and what I wanted. All I knew in that moment was that I felt "at home". It amazes me how the world unfolds before my very eyes if I just let it take its course. The only reason I ended up in the Aliaga's house was because I shared one of the most phenomenal experiences of my trip (climbing Cotopaxi in Ecuador), with Alexei while he was visiting his sister in Quito. De repente, I end up staying at his house for nearly two months while getting to know the beauty of Peru... suerte? Fortuna? You tell me. I covered some sufficient Peruvian ground in those two months... in the Cordillera Blanca AKA "The Swiss Alps of South America" where I trekked four days to a fine tune of altitude sickness... yeah, going from being at sea level Amazon for 2 months straight up to 14,000 feet within a night probably wasn't the most fabulous idea I've ever had. Lets just say I have never felt so close to wanting to die in my life... My sister (Nurse Kim) would have killed me had she known about my utter stupidity... lets just say I could have easily been diagnosed with pulmonary edema and cerebral edema with all of the phlegm, vomiting, splitting headaches like someone had taken a hammer to my skull (it even hurt to put a beanie on my head), 104 degree fever, chills and 16 hour naps. Quite a humbling experience I must say... being the absolute s l o w e s t of the group (literally a kilometer behind everyone else) among 2 girls who were prancing up the mountain with flying colors, in their cotton sweatshirts, jean shorts and converse shoes! Okay Senor Universo, I surrender! You are totally in control!!! Other places included Ayacucho, a pueblito where we delivered Paneton (Christmas bread), Chocolatada and gifts to all the poor children, Pisco (yep the origin of Pisco Sours), where I visited Las Islas Ballestas AKA Poor Mans Galapagos!, Ica, the location of Alexei's parents farm , from which we drank the first ever batch of wine... from grapes which his mother stomped with her own two feet! And Huacachina, where we filled our underwear, ears, noses, and eyeballs with sand as we hiked up 200 meters to the top of numerous white, vast, infinite dunes to sandboard down! Among all the traveling, sightseeing and activity, I must say that the most memorable moments took place inside the home with the Aliagas. ...Late nite chats with Alexei in Spanish, English, Spanglish (whatever flowed out of our mouths!), about life and traveling and the energy of the Universe. ...Flaquito Alvarito coming home from his long 12 hour days to snarf down a huge plate of rice and chicken gumbo, meanwhile laughing in his jovial and carefree style. ...Studious Stephani with her Organic Chemistry sitting quietly in the corner as the song "Youre Beautiful" plays in the back ground una y otra vez, with a smile whose brilliance would cause even the hardest of hearts to melt in love. ...Artistic Aksana and her magnificent fruit postre creations of mango, banana, papaya and strawberries smothered in yogurrrrr... standing in the kitchen with her passionate and fearless desire to practice her English and communicate with everyone and anyone....Yolked Yolanda and I battling it out in the Tae Bo championships in the living room. Her sensitive, motherly compassion and desire to protect me and provide the most comfortable stay possible...Dancing with Senor Ruben to la musica de MMMMMMMMMMMM and teaching him and his amigos the Electric Slide at his birthday party. His contagious smile and eyes that claimed a certain wisdom and vigor that I had never seen before....Precious Abuelo Panchito and his love for laughter and food, music and interaction!...Maria, la "empleada" who arrived at 6am every morning to make fresh orange juice and oatmeal, meanwhile washing, ironing, cleaning and preparing almuerzo too! Works all day only to return home at 7pm to cook for her family, wash her own family's clothes, perhaps eat for herself and off to bed only to do it all over again the next day....Cooking my first-ever Thanksgiving Turkey Dinner... In Peru! Ha! Turkey with all the side dishes and Grammies Cheesecake... went over smooth like butta!...Running on the beach and baking tortas with Aksana, going to concerts, working out, drinking Inca Cola (hee) with Alexei, dancing the "Arequipa" and correcting essays with Alvaro, listening to music and teasing Stephani about her new enamorado, deep conversations about life and love with Yolanda, endless jokes with Ruben, playing True Colors on the guitar for the family, spending time on "la finca" drinking fresh wine and eating figs straight off the trees like they were M&M's, going to eat Pollo a la Brasa at 11pm to...I just cant say enough. There wasn't one moment that passed by that wouldn't go down in the book of Precious Memories. The time came in December when it was time for me to continue south... venture on, leave the comfort and set out into the land of unknown once again. My plans to head to Argentina by bus were interfered by my intense desire to be in Buenos Aires promptly... to be in a city where I felt a little safer than I had during the length of my trip in various countries, a little more secure, where I didn't feel like a minority. Don't know what it was, but I was in Pisco, Ica, and Nazca on my way to Machu Picchu, through Bolivia to do the whole trekky trek that "every traveler does" and suddenly, I just decided that I didn't want to do the small-town-travel-by-foot anymore. Most people would probably shoot me in the head upon hearing that I was within an ear shot of southern Peru and didn't visit Machu Picchu. But even with all those little "logical" voices screaming in my head, it didn't matter to me. Instead of following "the plan"... I followed my heart, my instincts, my passion... and within one night, I had bought a plane ticket, caught a bus back to Lima and was on my way to Buenos Aires right before Christmas... And so goes it, the life of a spontaneous traveler!Meetcha in the Big Smoke.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1129398900/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1129398900/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1129398900/tpod.html Mon, 26 Dec 2005 14:03:09 -0500 South America: Una mujer... una exploracion de cultura... una realizacion de la naturaleza..y la liberacion de su alma.

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Lagartacocha, Ecuador

There is a silence that grows deeper with every soundAnd a love that grows stronger once it is found.There is a laughter that grows louder with every smileAnd a wisdom that grows more ancient in every child.You sing to me your lullaby and I drift into my dreamsUnfolding the secrets of this land, of pure and pristineEnergy that carries me like the wind unto the starsEmbracing my spirit despite the calculated nears and fars.Canta, Bella, canta. I will be listening foreverThe lessons you have offered and the grace of all your weatherCanta, Bella, canta. It is you that will remainWithin my heart and in my soul, through the sunshine and the rain.How lightly do your teardrops fall, cleansing all belowReplenishing the thirst of our mother, for her to heal and grow.How profoundly I breathe the gift of life through your precious airOnly to know I am not alone when I feel in despair.The richness of your peace sends me deeper into my soulI look into the mirror of nature and recognize the goal.Leaving behind my former mind which before I would never allowRealizing the only thing that matters is the moment here and now.All judgments away, humble I'll stay, for what I think I know I don'tI have no fear of being here, for what I think I'll do I won't.In memories or future thoughts, what for shall I prayFor your eyes twinkle among the trees and all that exists is today.Canta, Bella, canta. I will be listening foreverThe lessons you have offered and the grace of all your weatherCanta, Bella, canta. It is you that will remainWithin my heart and in my soul, through the sunshine and the rain.The more I thought about writing this travelogue, the more I retreated into the tiniest crevices of the earth, fearing that my petty and inadequate words would only insult the magnitude of praise and honor that this magical place so gratefully deserves. ... The intelligence, the spirit, the body of the jungle is an unidentifiable entity. How could I ever explain to anyone what I felt inside this place...full of sound, full of noise, pulsating in every direction... and nevertheless, at the base, at the core of it all, an intense silence so deep, so pure and so strong, it brings utter fear. A silence from which the power within speaks loud and clear. The Amazon. A place where silence is found in the noise, where light is found in the darkness, where love is found in being Alone. Where heaven is found on earth and where everything is alive... and inevitably, so am I.How could I ever begin to rightfully detail every experience with the brilliance and color that so vividly lives in my memory? And which experiences would I choose to share? For none were any more important or more elaborate than the others... there was just no way to prioritize... each day brought its own glory, its own personality, its own vivid moment... therefore, what, oh what, would I write about? Perhaps I would tell you of the experience of living with 2 Shamans, TinTin and Cesario, and a 115 year old Secoyan woman, Neco, who caught her own fish and got down in the dirt with her machete every morning... until the afternoon, when she would pound sweetly on the tambur (drum) and sing to us the old chant of the ancient tribal rituals...Perhaps I would tell you of the continuity, the flow of the selva......The way of the shamans... the way they love life... the way they smiled and laughed at anything and everything, with their big grins of 3 teeth and with a sound that vibrated through the trees of the forest, a sound that embraced the heart of every living creature... siempre jugando, ultimately allowing me to surrender to any insecurities I may have had and carry out each moment with a smile. "Quiere Chu-Chu!?"... "Buenas Noches! Noche Buena!"...The food. You want platanos and rice? Or how bout rice and platanos? Boiled platanos and rice pudding for breakfast, fried platanos and fried rice for lunch, and a lovely platano and rice combo drink for dinner??? Carbs anyone??? And the excitement freshly hunted carne! It didn't matter what it was... something new to eat? We'll try it! Protein? Bring it on! Aves, Guanta, Sapo, Mono, Tortuga, Tapir... la carne del monte! ...The daily life... for the women and the men... while the men se van a cazar (hunt) o buscar lena (search for wood) o pescar (fish), the women (meaning Anna and I) stay close to the home to cocinar (cook), limpiar (clean), lavar la ropa (wash the clothes)... meanwhile bathing and lathering in natural mudbaths on the shore of the Amazon, before our daily application of fresh aloe over our faces and coconut oil all over our skin. We practically had our own house straw roof, bed with mozzy net, our two hammocks in the middle of the room... a table on which we placed 3 white candles and put fresh hibiscus every day....an enormous floor on which to do yoga every afternoon that faced into the depth of the amazon trees and ponds... listening to the music, the REAL music of the Amazon critters (dont people pay money for CDs that have these sounds????)... Perhaps I would tell you of all the extraordinary people I came across along the way... people that I spent a good chunk of time with as well as people whom I met, conversed and disappeared from all within 2 minutes...... a man from Banos that taught me not by words or books, but by example... the way he walked with dignity and grace, the way he spoke withcalmness and compassion, the way he listened with empathy and sympathy, the way he laughed with an open heart of light... not to mention his vast knowledge of energy, world religion, natural medicine, food combinations, etc etc and the list goes on......Lucas, a guy from Michigan with a permanent smile, who has been living with the Secoyan tribe for the past nine years... has adopted their distinct language and is known all over the tribe for being a tremendous worker and a lively soul....Federico, an Argentinian loquito who was definitely Anna's and my "greatest teacher" (or so we like to call him)... For, one that tests the patience is definitely at the top of the list of Masters! We love you, Monkey Boy....Nelly, one of the most compassionate, loving, affectionate mothers I have ever seen... fifteen years old....Karen Lorena Ambar, a baby girl, only one year old, but with eyes that told ancient stories of ancestral past... and a smile that guaranteed the harmonic flow of the world would continue only with conscious advancement and preservation of our mother earth and her luscious fruits. Or perhaps I would tell you of the hilarious experiences that still make me laugh out loud when I am alone in the airport or walking on the street... like our "Little Jungle Walkabout" turned "3-hour-wild-boar-chase-get-lost-in-the-jungle-tour" with an Argentinian hammock weaver... or how bout catching our own Piranhas from our tiny canoe, then having to bash their little fiery heads with a machete to ensure that they didn't bite us, meanwhile nearly rocking our boat upside down!Or perhaps I would tell you of the things I learned how to do while in the jungle... playing the guitar (thanks Anna!), weaving purses and hammocks made of thread stripped from the Coco trees, beading bracelets, making bookshelves and armarios made of jungle wood, making pan de yucca, sopa de pescado, pescado humedo, pescado a la plancha, tostones, chucula, and lets not forget the famous torta de chocolate from scratch! (even though it took me more than a few trials of "wanna-be chocolate" mushy poop to get it right!)Or perhaps I would tell you about the nature... THE NATURE!!! Dios Mio! Where would I begin?!?!? Would I tell you of the time I was meditating on the trunk of a fallen tree strung across the river one morning and looked up only to see nearly 10 monkeys streaming across the canopy of trees over my head, singing their good morning chirps? Or would I tell you about the alligator that jumped out from the swamp directly toward our canoe as we screamed like little girls? Would I mention the millions of orange and blue and white butterflies that would appear every afternoon by the river as we danced and swam with the little children? Or how bout all the little critters that graced our presence in our hut? Cockroaches, turanchulas, geckos, bats, sanguros, mozzies (gratefully, not as many as I anticipated!)... plenty of little spiders (whom decided to have a midnight snack on my entire pelvic area (yep, front and back) upon my first night of arrival!) And the little Luciernagas (light bugs) that would appear and disappear, like little jungle eyes amidst the darkness of the trees.And how bout the weather?! The way it would change within seconds from intensely unbearable heat that could singe the hair right off the top of your head to thundering pouring showers of rain and lightening ...Or perhaps I would try to describe those times that made me feel the most alive... those moments where the only thing that mattered was "it"... the moment. Where nothing else in the world was a worry, where life was at that exact second, alive.Such as the afternoon canoe ride with Anna through the nooks and crannies of the submersed orchid trees... quiet, pristine... floating upon the black reflection of the water as the sun peered through the scarce cracks of the big abundant leaves. Am I at Disneyland?Such as the evening sunsets, when I would sit on the balcony with baby Karen Lorena in my lap, as I sang to her my Amazon songs on the guitar... as her wise eyes stared into mine, enthralled by the senses of every passing moment.Such as the night walks on the way to the toilet in the middle of the night... awaking only to encounter a sky invaded by blinking eyes and twinkling kisses, reassuring me that even in the depths of my sleep, the world in which I live and the ground on which I rest, is "going to work" for me.Or perhaps I would tell you of the personal struggles... and discoveries... and revelations... Of how much I thought of my family and how much I am embraced by their love and nurture, guidance and care... how fortunate I am to have people in my life who worry about me and who care about my health and safety and comfort... how each time I felt lonely, I reflected on the lullabies that my mother would used to sing to me in my crib, or how my father and I would play shamu in the pool, or how my sister would hold my hand when we crossed the street.... Solitude certainly stimulates reflection on the roots of one's existence, the blood which connects one to ancestral past and the fruits of the universe. And inevitably, my feelings intensified aun mas (even more) after hearing the news of my sister, Kim's, embarazo!!! (pregnancy!!!) A new little life, a new generation, a new little spring bouncing into the world to carry on a legacy of strength and beauty and purity...Wow. Am I really here? One layer at a time, slowly peeling from my soul and drifting down river, exposing me to yet another part of Tiffany, undiscovered. With each layer that drifts away with the wind, the inside of me becomes a little bit brighter and I see more clearly the love that not only surrounds me but that is within me. That is the Amazon. Al final, I realized that, once again (as in writing my other travelogues), I didn't need to color these experiences with anything... for each time I recollect the precious moments, they color themselves... sometimes with the same color, sometimes even more brilliant and bright, sometimes with a completely different color. And as each memory passes through my living soul each day, I learn something new...However, in all honesty, in three months of being in the jungle, of living with tribes, of being the first tourist to walk into the most remote part of the Ecuadorian jungle and the first female gringa that many of the people had ever seen... in three months of living the life of a tribal mujer... to be honest, I truly learned only ONE SIMPLE THING... one thing, that's it.That is.............. I don't know ANYTHING.That underneath it all... with all the "searching", with all the knowledge that I think I accumulate... with all the answers that I think I have and that I think I am finding and that I think are there for me to find... they really aren't answers at all. They are just part of the experience... part of the flow... all part of... what I don't know. And they constantly change. Kinda like the words that flow through me, like the river on which I watched the sun set every evening... calm, subtle, steady. Flowing lightly, like angel kisses on butterfly wings... delicate, rare and only present themselves to those who wait patiently. This is the Amazon.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1125078420/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1125078420/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1125078420/tpod.html Sat, 12 Nov 2005 19:06:25 -0500 South America: Una mujer... una exploracion de cultura... una realizacion de la naturaleza..y la liberacion de su alma.

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Vilcabamba, Ecuador

Strikes, riots and battle between the Amazonian petroleum industry and the Ecuadorian government caused my plan of entering the jungle in mid-August to burn up right along with the rubber tires, overturned cars, and buildings. I gratefully decided that it wasnt such a good idea for a little curly haired gringa to be walking through the smoky dust filled streets with her bright blue backpack and imaginary "aviso" on her forehead saying "Rob Me!" ... Crimebait.So, suddenly I find myself 14 hours south of Quito after yet another exciting bus ride sitting next to an Andean family of 8 packed into 5 asientos (seats)... with one of the daughters next to me and her little 3 year old brother on her lap, who in mid-travel decides that his almuerzo doesnt belong in his stomach anymore and ends up blowing chunks all over his sisters shirt. Needless to say, I spent the rest of my trip with my neck kinked to the left and my cheek plastered to the foggy window in order to avoid the frequent whiffs of what smelled like a warm McDonalds hamburger that had been sitting in a jar for 9 months... Anyays, por suerte, I arrived in a place called Vilcabamba, AKA - the Sacred Valley. The Sacred Valley??? Hmmm. That name might need some review. Supposedly Vilcabamba is a place where scientists have found the largest population in the world of people who have lived past the age of 100. It has a strange vibe to it though. Word has it a lot of the Y2Kers came here from the states 5 years back when they thought the world was going to blow up from technology... I dunno. Somethins fishy round heeeeere... something that neither I, nor the two other travellers I am with, can explain. They feel it too... Anna and Lloyd. Anna ... this great Australian chick with the sweetest demeanor... a strong, independent, brave woman of 27 years old... does yoga everyday and plays the guitar! Lloyd, a Northern Californian who studied horticulture and has a fantastically dry sense of humor, is extremely down to earth and loves Jack Johnson!However, I am not in the hostal in which I originally planned to stay... I came searching for a sweet little hideaway nestled in the land of nowhere, a little personal retreat surrounded by trees and no noise... and where do I end up? On an Organic Farm!!! Quite possibly the best detour ever (thanx to Annas invitation) because the owner has left us the farm all to ourselves! (okay, with the exception of Rocky, Barbie, Llegua and Hans... but we´ll get to them later) Basically we do whatever we think the farm needs... raking, cleaning up, gathering fruit, fixing the water lines, working in the garden, shoveling horse poop... yeah, Mom and Dad would have loved to see that one. Little San Diego girl gathers an entire wheelbarrow full of horse droppings about 100meters down the river from the compost site, nearly dumped half of it out trying to maneuver the damn thing up the rocky path, horse crap on my feet, sweating buckets as the midday sun blazes down on my mosquito raped back, uncoordinated like youve never seen! I swear I can hold a balance pose in yoga but I sure cant put one foot in front of the other carting a bundle of poop on wheels! Alls I have to say to my parents is... I now completely respect all those dirty chores you had to do every weekend in Kansas and also... THANK YOU for raising me in 3244 Cerca de Tierra instead of on a FARM! Yesterday, I built a fence out of bamboo to go around the compost pile, today Im building boxes for our recently initiated recycling program! Caja 1 - Vidrio y Latas, Caja 2 - Aluminio, Caja 3 - Plastico, Caja 4 - Basura Quemable. Being on the farm has actually turned into exactly what I had in mind for my little retreat! Anna and I do yoga every morning, meditation on the little river that runs right along the farm. We eat organic food every meal, including all the fruits that grow abundantly on the farm - Orange, Lemon, Limon Dulce, Pineapple, Avocado, Figs, Papaya and these little soft green fruits I cant remember the name of... YUM! Not to mention we can drink the river water! A healthy mind! A healthy body! I feel like a Rockstar!Hm, speaking of Rockstar... lets talk about the rest of the crew mentioned earlier. Anna, Lloyd and I are not totally ALONE on the farm. Rocky and Barbie, the two dogs, pretty much run the farm. Rocky (aka Rockstar) is an oversized poodle who is supposed to be a sheepdog but recently had to get all his hair shaved (with the exception of his fluffy ears, feet and tail) due to his infatuation with humping everything he sees... including porcupines. So, in order to get the needles out of his face, mouth, ears, back and rear end, he was left with a coat that looks like its been cut by Edward Scissorhands. But thats not all. Rocky is a rescued dog and has lived most of his life tied to a 2meter rope, until he arrived here. So now he has gone completely Hyena and runs like mad around the farm, barking like crazy at the ass of Llegua (the beautiful white farm horse) but most of the time chasing Barbie... the other dog. Barbie (aka Stinky), although the sweet, calm, collective and tame German Shepard, has her own little fetish. She likes to hump skunks! I wont say much more about that but you can imagine how the farm smelled for 8 days after her 2am date with Pepe-Le-Peu. All one big happy farm family we are at the moment! We have deemed ourselves... The Freak Farm...Dancing around, singing, laughing, barking, we are all freaks! However, Hans takes the cake. Who´s Hans you ask? The old, tall, skinny grumpy German dude that lives on the farm... but way up in the house away from everything else! Claiming in his grumbled German that Rocky tried to bite him, he now walks all the way around the other house to get to the kitchen. He doesnt like animals and insists on keeping rocky chained to a tree 24 hours a day! He doesnt talk much to Anna or I and we´re sure that all the hammering he does up in his house all day is NOT him doing his Artesania work. We´re convinced hes building a kitchen where he can hoard all his pan integral, leche en polvo, carne thats supposed to be for the dogs and peanut butter! Granted, we did eat his bean stew that he slaved over all day... which turned out to be a bad move since we provided a natural termite fumigation treatment in our humble abode that night! So anyway, Hans (or Frank, our undercover name for him) has been pissed at us ever since I suggested that Rocky get at least 15 minutes of exercise and let him off the chain to run around crazy for a bit. Ooops. Wrong move! I think if he had a rifle handy, he would have shot me. Thank God the owner of the farm got rid of the gun that she had on the farm before we arrived (or so she told us). However, she did hang on to her sharp, fat bladed army knife which rested nicely next to our heads as we slept. The same knife that was used by some girl who was visiting a year back to slash a dude´s face who had come up to the farm and tried to rape her... FREAK FARM!!!! No worries mom and dad... Im safe n sound now! Anna and I are getting along amazingly well. Its quite strange how similar we are... and how different we are... and how we balance each other out... We both love to be creative, in the kitchen, with our yoga, with music, everything! We sing together... she is teaching me to play the guitar, I am helping her with her spanish. Anna and I spend every day together, chillin, singing, talking, contemplating the complexity and profoundness of this life.-.. Uh oh, I know some of my friends are saying right now. Tiff found someone else to talk deep with. Yikers!!! We laugh at and think the same things. Its great. Anyways, meeting Anna made me realize how important my girlfriends are to me. Its weird, because all through my trip, I have only met up with guys... and this is the first time in my trip that I have actually met a girl with whom I could rap with, laugh with, cry with, be with and not feel like I needed to move on. Needless to say, it reminds me of what I have back home, my precious girlfriends, the bonds that I have formed throughout the years...and how fortunate I am to have my friends and all the women in my life, who support me in all of my crazy ideas and listen to my BS too! Anna and I have actually been contemplating going into the jungle together from here. She just came from the Peruvian jungle into Ecuador but she feels like she didnt see or do everything that she wanted to. It was quite awesome because I didnt even think twice before inviting her to accompany me in the next segment of my trip (that is, whenever the strikes and turmoil settle). Normally, I would be hesitant going into a place where I knew I would be with a person 24-7... especially after travelling 6 months on my own up until now. But truly, there was no hesitation when I envisioned us in the jungle together. There was pure excitement and anticipation of a greater opportunity to grow and learn and live! In a few days we shall see... if I continue my journey s o l i t a... or if I perhaps gain another beautiful soul with which to share it!!!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1123807140/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1123807140/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1123807140/tpod.html Thu, 11 Aug 2005 21:14:20 -0400 South America: Una mujer... una exploracion de cultura... una realizacion de la naturaleza..y la liberacion de su alma.

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Quito, Ecuador

Uh oh. Cuidado. This is gonna be a big entry. I don't even know where to start. The last two months have been no more than the absolute BEST months of my life. Not only have I explored the incredibly fascinating biodiversity of this small country the size of Nevada... from cloud forests to high Andean peaks to ancient ruins of precious cultural history to steamy aquas termales under rainstorms and 500-foot waterfalls in lush rain forests... but these discoveries have also led to a turmoil of self discovery... a delicate flight from feelings of attachment, longing and loneliness into a world of freedom, release and peace. It is in this magical place called Ecuador that nature has begun to speak to me ... or perhaps the chaotic sounds that have continuously echoed in my head have finally begun to dissipate, allowing me the capacity and the silence to humbly and graciously...listen. To cancel out everything learned in my textbooks, everything that was ever told to me or that I took for fact... disregarding all scientific laws, all physical laws, all laws created by man, and finding myself submersed only in the laws of nature... a guide that truly leads by faith - tempered by weather, adaptive to change, resistant to noise of the mind, and at the core of all... tranquil, observant, and alive.Quite like the Galapagos Tortuga. Having just returned from the "Enchanted Islands" yesterday, I am on a naturistic "high"... ten days totally submersed in the land of endemic flora and fauna... species that can only be found in these magical islands... The only place on earth where the joining of 3 faults has caused a series of submarine volcanic eruptions, forming a cluster of amazing islands that are continuously evolving and changing shape. In response, the physical features of the animals and plants adapt to the changing environment... giving reason as to why it is from this intriguing place that Charles Darwin based his hypotheses of evolution, natural selection, and "survival of the fittest". It is the only place in the world where, at different times of the year, the fauna is determined by the dominance of 1 of 3 joining currents from Panama, Antarctica, and the Pacific. Literally giving evidence to "survival of the fittest", as the Panama current (that of El Nino) dominates in the winter months, only those fish, animals and plants that can survive the warm waters will continue to thrive. The rest will be eliminated by the force of nature. Wow. Every experience was like a dream. My first morning, I walked down to the muelle (dock) of San Cristobal at sunrise... Dude. Am I at Sea World? The only time I have ever seen seals in my life is when they were held captive in a tight little blue swimming pool at an attraction park in San Diego - who remembers the Seymour and Otter Show?! But there I was, and there they were... 50 of them!... Los lobos del mar, laid across the shore. I was warmly greeted by a mama sea lion rising above her babies. AAAAAAAAARRRRRRH! Or maybe she was pissed off that some Gringa chick was disrupting her peace, but nevertheless, I decided to take it as a greeting! "Welcome to our Home!" she said with an outstretched neck, nose to the sky, jaw wide open as if she were waiting for a fish to fall from the morning clouds that always seemed to welcome the sunshine with graceful compassion. I couldn't help but think of my sister... who spent four years in the middle of marine life paradise. I had always remembered her stories of the seals she would encounter daily while aboard the research vessel in Antarctica...Wishing that she were sitting there with me. It is her dream to go to the Galapagos and in one way or another, I felt kind of lonely without her. Like I was in her heaven but I couldn't see her beautiful smile or wonderous brown eyes light up in this magical place. Inevitably, warm and liberating thoughts of her spirit danced with me through every experience thereafter. From swimming with 200 pound sea turtles and white tip reef sharks. Watching the blue-foot boobies do their little dance among the lava rocks right next to the marine iguanas who, in order to stay warm, mount each others backs and bask in the midday sunshine. Kayaking through the Tintoreras only to come across a pack of 12 little Galapagos pinguinos (the only ones found in the northern hemisphere and the second smallest species in the world) kindly sharing their territory with the boobies, the bright orange crabs the size of both of my hands and a few sea lions... on the other side of our kayak, the turtles get their afternoon snack on the algae of the reef. As the tide flushes in and out, so do their heads up and down in the water. Below, the reef sharks suavely follow the shadow of our kayak. In the Galapagos, the animals do not fear the people. For, they know that they truly dominate the land and that their preservation is the number one priority of the people and of the nation. The energy of the islands is unreal. There is no room for ego. The people know that nature is greater than "I". And so they bow and humble themselves to la naturaleza. Honesty is not demanded, but rather expected. Karma. Que mas, que mas.... Wow. So many experiences. Horseback riding to an active volcano on Isla Isabella, hiking through the ranges of different colored lava, all changed by age, and the chemical reactions of the underground energy that erupts every 25 years. The last one was in 1979! Visiting the secret spots... cliff jumping in Las Grietas into a purifying mixture of salt water and freshwater, snorkelling in Tortuga Bay with the turtles and sharks, in las Tijeteras... where the Frigate Birds play in the air with their scissor like tails flapping back and forth. Sitting on the dock with my Auzzie buddies, Simon and Dean, drinkin a beer at dusk as 12 flamingos fly in over our heads for their nightly respite... going to the Darwin Research Center where the environmental groups work endlessly to preserve and prolong the lives of the endemic turtles...visiting La Parte Alta, Los Gemelos - the twin craters filled with lush green vegetation, whose deep formation was caused by bubbles underneath the earth´s surface...walking through underground natural lava tunnels. Boat trips to outer remote islands, snorkelling, swimming... swimming with the sea lions! Flipping! Turning! Tossing! Playing! We were all in heaven, dancing with the rhythm of nature! Meeting the natives of each island, including the only Galapageno to produce music from the island... GringoJuan... IguanaMan! A 66 year old man, with a long white beard and tons of wisdom to be shared... we rapped for hours, drank wine. He even taught me how to shoot a bow and arrow! More hanging out at the local joints, dancing salsa (and hip hop!), eating fish every day lunch and dinner... fresh tuna, lobster, shrimp, barakuta, pepino, you name it. $2, whatever you want! Absolute heaven the Galapagos. I cant say enough. And this short caption covers a mere 5% of not only what I saw, but what I felt deep within my soul. Some sort of connection that I never realized could occur. Despite the fact that I was unable to share this experience with my sister, I feel like after these ten days, I know her a lot better. Perhaps I know myself a little better too.Self Discovery... opening & closing, flying & landing, dancing & meditating. Balance. Its becoming clear that this journey is simply a vessel for self transformation. Every experience has brought me to some sort of conclusion of a little part of myself. Maybe not a "conclusion" but rather a "layer" waiting to be shed. After spending 2 full months in Ecuador, I am quite certain now, more than ever, that the mountains are my church. I am alive and spiritually invigorated surrounded by these magnificent creations of God... From the deepest valleys of the smallest pueblos to the highest summits of the snow capped volcanos, I am free in this enchanting place. ... Free like the Condors that flew no more than 10m above my head as I trekked through Laguna Mojanda through at least 4 different paisajes... lakes, lavender pastures, pine forests, snowy peaks, wild horse fields...... Free like the sunrise at 530am in the morning as I crawled my way 18,000 feet up the Glacier Cotopaxi. Above the clouds, the full moon resting into the western horizon next to the soft shadow of the glacier, cast by the rising rays of intense orange and yellow sunlight....Free like the wind that swiftly brushed the tiny hairs of my face as I mountain biked over old railroads and farms, through the ancient Andean and Ecuadorian towns of Otavalo, Pichincha, Riobamba, Banos....Free like the San Rafeal Cascada - el monton de agua that falls 500 feet from the rivers that lead to the Amazon. Ever flowing, ever changing, overwhelming....Free like the feeling of being directly on the equator at Summer Solstice. Making offerings to the earth and giving grace to the sky, the rain, the sun for providing the nutrients to live and survive as a human race. Participating in a ritual that had nothing to do with man and everything to do with nature. Freedom. This is life. This is love. This is me. One experience at a time... one layer at a time. Like the iguanas... I just keep shedding.Perhaps the next leg of my journey will provide a complete stripping of multiple layers at a time. By next Friday, life for Tiff is going to change drastically. I will voluntarily be trading a nice, cozy apartment in the most beautiful area of Quito, with a featherbed and hot shower water, the sunrise over Glacier Cayambe as my natural alarm clock, a kitchen and all the amenities of a 4 star hotel for an experience of a lifetime. I will take an 8 hour bus ride from Quito east, to a small port pueblo called Shushufindi. From there I will be taken in a 1 hour canoe ride into the Amazon, to the house of Cesario, a Shaman who has two houses jungle - one on the Ecuadorian side and another deep in the Peruvian jungle... I have been invited to live with him for an undetermined amount of time. Could be 2 weeks, could be 2 months. All I know is that there is something in there for me. The melodic song of the Amazon has been playing in my head ever since I stepped foot in South America. And I have been blessed enough to receive the opportunity to learn the primitive, raw as raw, naturalistic ways of life. I can only anticipate that this experience will continue to follow the theme of self realization as the rest of my trip has done... a zone of the unknown. A place where very few people have the opportunity go in this lifetime. A precious oyster of hidden pearls waiting to be revealed in the darkness. And so, with faith I go...full of blessing, full of humility... deeper into my journey... deeper into myself. See you on the other side.Love, Tiffany
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1123704600/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1123704600/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1123704600/tpod.html Fri, 08 Jul 2005 12:44:02 -0400 South America: Una mujer... una exploracion de cultura... una realizacion de la naturaleza..y la liberacion de su alma.

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Bogota, Colombia

I have experienced numerous departures (or transitions rather) in my lifetime... graduating from high school, leaving my family and my childhood, graduating from college, leaving my basketball team and the place which "grew me up", leaving certain places... Colorado to San Diego and from SD to Venezuela... leaving work, the beach, my childhood stomping ground, leaving warm solid memories of friends made and friends kept for a lifetime... so many transitions. However, none of these seemed to familiarize with my latest departure from Merida - such an intense range of emotions, such a locura of highs and lows. My heart felt as if it was being tugged in a thousand directions... with eager feelings of anticipation, continuation and pursuit of the next bundle of surprises beheld in this grand adventure... with intense longing to keep close to my heart the love to which I had just begun to open myself in one "certain" relationship...with feelings of gratitude - that I had made such amazing friends and had become a part of such a wonderful family... with feelings of hope that I would encounter more spiritual and beautiful souls as I crossed frontera por frontera into a new chapter. My last night in Merida, I went for a "vuelto" (a drive) around the city... with Alberto and my other friends. Feelings and memories danced together through my heart as I looked up into the night sky full of stars... full of hope and dreams. The clouds were crying...but I could still see the moon and her little twinkling grandchildren. U2 softly played through the car radio... "Walk on... walk on... walk on......" That´s just what I was about to do... within hours, I would be "walking on". So much of me smiled and giddily laughed at this thought... and another little piece of me ached profoundly, wanting to continue to melt in the embrace of love... warm, safe, secure and solid. But there was a world out there calling my name. En route to Ecuador, I planned to cross the Columbian border, spend 3 days in Bogota and make it to Quito within 5 days to meet up with my friends, Ray and Rachel before they left for the states. The wind from the Ecuadorian mountains whispered to me over and over and over again... "come, Tiffany... we will take care of you... you are safe...you are never alone...peace is everywhere... calmate, calmate, calmate... venga Tiffany, venga aca." My soul ached. Vinieron las lagrimas...the tears... they streamed from my face from memories of everyone who left their delicate footprints in my heart in the last 3 months... Alberto, Nelis y Leo, Maria, Mappy y David, Laura, Kiko y Oswaldo, Vanessa, Ricardo, Carlos, Louisa, Luis, Lara, Evay. The tears drowned out any sound of conversation in the car. All was silent around me, but all was noisy inside. Silencia. Ruido. Una mezcla de emociones profundas. Was I ready? Would I ever be "ready"? What does it mean to be "ready"?Perhaps this locura in my head contributed to my 24 hour illness 2 days before my departure. Just when I thought I had made it through 3 months in SA without getting any type of illness, I came down with something horrible... who knows what little demon crawled into my stomach, but after having to jump off the bus to vomit in the middle of the street and in front of a grossed out vendor selling perros calientes (which, EWE, by the way are street hot dogs in crusty buns, loaded with mayonnaise, onions, and those little crispy thin potato strips that you used to eat when you were starving as a child!) Anyways, after 12 subsequent vomiting episodes, a number of bathroom sprints, 18 hours of solid sleep, chills, sweats, fever, you name it... I was back on my feet! (Quite similar to my ICU experience, Treger!... except there were no ICU´s near! Just a cozy little cama (thank god) en la casa.) With thoughts of getting on the bus at 3am the following morning to leave Merida, lets just say I wasn't pumped to spend 10 hours in an icebox on wheels. Con un besito a Merida and a promise to return "someday", I left with Nelis, la madre, for the border of Columbia and Venezuela... Cucuta... Near there, in Ureña, we spent a night at the Aguas Termales where I was able to regain my strength and patch up my torn heart with a nice long meditation and yoga practice. Nelis and I spent hours watching the sky...from dusk and into the night... llenaba de estrellas brillantes... we must have seen over 2 dozen shooting stars. You can bet I made a wish on every one! Pero no te voy a decir los deseos!The following morning I hopped on a bus to Bogota... quite a locura getting from place to place cuz they speak SO FAST in Columbia! I spent most of the time saying "como?" "como?" "como?" "No entiendo, por favor hable mas despacio." Ha. Sixteen wonderful hours to Bogota... Good God, help me. At about 2am, of course on MY bus, came half of the Quechuan community, who, come to find out, don't really give a poop about those trying to sleep on the bus. NOISE everywhere! All around! Like the fricken USC band had just boarded! Nearly scared the crap out of me! As it was, I spent the rest of the evening watching the lights go by out the window. I also managed to spill my entire 2 Liter bottle of water all over myself, with no extra clothes to spare. Um, not such a good idea right before we were about to climb up into the high Andes in zero degree weather! Yeah, pretty damn cold. As I shivered my way to warmth along the windy roads, I was humbled by thoughts of The Motorcycle Diaries and how I was Really Fricken Glad that indeed, I was NOT on a motorcycle!So by 730am, I find myself in this great big city of the richest of the rich and the poorest of the poor. A city with all luxurious influence of technology, fast foot and high risers combined with homeless 6-year old beggars, pick pockets, thieves and an oppressed population of saddened faces.... Bogota. Lonely planet puts it best - "Bogota is a city which offers every western convenience and suffers from every 3rd world problem - brilliant , splendid, vibrant and diverse with vast shantytowns, beggars, thieves, wild traffic and graffiti." The taxi drivers hounded me once again but I opted to take the bus into downtown (a little different from the buses in Merida cuz these ones had bullet proof shields between the passengers and the driver) Welcome to Columbia! I arrived at a previously recommended hostal and was relieved to find about 20 other travelers... all of whom spoke English. Wow! I can actually talk without thinking here! I ended up in a double bunked room with three other cats: Jeremy, a student from Washington full of youthful energy. David, an Australian crackhead (literally) who, when I arrived, had been sleeping for almost 28 hours after having partied for 3 days straight! A classic dude with plenty of stories... one notably being held at gunpoint and thrown in jail, stripped and robbed all in the same hour while drunk in Caracas his first night in South America! After hearing that one, I decided I wasn't going to let him show me around Bogota. However, the fourth person in my bunk, David, was the most down to earth genuine guy from España. Full of positive energy and warmth... turns out he knows Alberto and all my friends in Merida! Quite a world, isn't it? He climbs, hikes, loves the mountains, does Capoeira and was planning to go to Quito as well! I also met many other wonderful travelers... Jos - a tall blonde Dutch gentleman who loved his coffee and roll in the morning hours, Alejandro, a sweet Italian with plenty of nice things to say, a pleasant demeanor and a contagious laugh, Roberto, a Uruguayan who grew up in Jersey with an awesome afro... a strong kid who spent the last year of his 19 year old life traveling South America - with a zest for life and a smile that Im convinced killed all the South American women that looked at him! Sin embargo, knowing that my stay in Columbia would be short, I immediately began packing all the activities in! Bogota has many wonderful sights, architecture and cultural beauty: Museo del Oro - the most famous gold museum in the world.Museo Botero - which houses the richest paintings in South America (Botero, Picasso, Renoir, Matisse, Monet)... However, Botero loved to paint fat people...seriously... and after looking at about 6 rooms full of well nourished naked women, I was desperately searching for some abstract art and sculptures!)Cerro de Monserrate - with spectacular views of all of Bogota, the statue of Sr. Caido, (Fallen Christ) to which many miracles have been attributed.Catedral de Sal - an entire cathedral made of saltEsmeraldas - which contains amazingly gorgeous and pristine emeralds from all over SA.Historically rich churches, parks, theaters...Bogota is a grand city... music, theatre, art, culture, dance... but according to many natives, this is a cosmetic "front". For, underneath the mask of diamonds and pearls lies poverty, famish, social injustice, depression, oppression, war... Guerra. There are armed soldiers literally on every corner, guarded by shields and rifles and combat gear. There are daily riot warnings, sirens, alarms, fighting in the middle of the street, theft, rape, crime, crime, crime. The people desperately want... something. Material, physical, emotional, psychological satisfaction. Or perhaps they just want freedom. Wow. How fortunate and blessed I feel to live in a country and come from a family where I never had to and never will have to feel that pain and sadness. Bogota truly is what I call a "bi-polar" city. Beautiful here, ugly there. Brilliant there, dark here. Strong and disabled at the same time. In the midst of it all, I still felt safe. I never once felt in danger. However, I did find difficulty in always putting my head straight forward and avoiding eye contact with a culture I so wanted to understand and know, hiding a smile that I achingly wanted to offer to the saddened eyes of the poor children. But as a female traveler on her own, I must ALWAYS know where Im going... (or at least look like it!) I walk briskly, with self confidence and assurance, eyes fixed, shoulders back, even though 75 percent of the time I have no clue where the hell I am. I wear my Venezuelan cap around a lot keep myself from being "gringa bait". Seems this hat actually helped me get 3 months in Columbia instead of the usual 1 month they give tourists! Ha, too bad Im gone in 3 days! And yes, three days was plenty for me in Bogota... that is simply MY opinion. My traveling counterparts would beg to differ. Especially those males whom ranted and raved about Columbia... why? "Because they have the most beautiful women in all of South America!!!" I found that after being in little Merida for so long, I have some sort of phobia of being in big cities! Maybe Im just a little more sensitive to the RUIDO! Needless to say, I was actually ready to board my, errrrr, 23 hour bus ride to Ipiales and then catch another 5 hour ride into Quito. Ready for more adventure. Ready to climb mountains. Ready to enter the Amazon and visit the Galapagos. Ready for different people, a culture mixed with an abundance of foreign travelers, patient Ecuadorians and smiling Quechuans. Ready for a country that, little did I know, would offer me an enveloping peace that I never knew I had the ability to feel while submersed en un ambiente tan desconocido...
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1115679300/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1115679300/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1115679300/tpod.html Mon, 09 May 2005 19:23:09 -0400 South America: Una mujer... una exploracion de cultura... una realizacion de la naturaleza..y la liberacion de su alma.

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Merida, Venezuela

I never use the word HATE. Ever. I don't like to hear the word nor do I like to say it. But its 3 o clock in the morning and Ive just spent the last four hours of my much anticipated and much needed sleep viciously and repetitively hitting myself in the face in attempt to relentlessly assassinate the little mosquito that thought it would be a cute idea to buzz around my sensitive ears and munch on my face for a midnight snack... Lord knows why he thought my EYELIDS would be the tastiest. So after having to cancel out sleeping for tonight in exchange for itchy, puffy eyelids and a bumpy face and neck, I can safely protest that... I HATE MOSQUITOS.I suppose it serves me right though. As before I left the states, my naturopathic doctor advised me NOT to eat bananas if I want to keep the mozzies away. And well, Ive been averaging about 3 bananas a day! I cant help it! They have about 10 types to choose from and they all have a distinct taste and there are Fruterias on every corner! I swear the all the bananas in Merida know me by name... or perhaps know me by sight - as I am the only blondy frosted curly-haired Gringa wearing Prana pants and Reef sandals around town. Okay, so maybe I should cut down the luscious yellow fruit a little bit. Mangos and Guayavas - watch out!Yesterday was el Dia de las Madres... so Happy Mothers Day to all you amazing and beautiful moms out there... Ann Gotfredson, Caroline Tawake, Carrie Herren, Cassandra Wang, Chantelle Cave, Dana Sulenski, Elizabeth Grimm, Kim Gaffrey, Jane Carlson, Janette Grimm, Jen Lakin, Jill Cadieux, Julia Kotlyar-Hughes (first Mothers day!), Kathleen Sullivan, Laurie Nelson, Leigh Sherman, Marcie Madueño, Marilyn Colby, Marilyn Souchek (yep you count!), Patsy Crayton, Rosemary Cave, Samantha Rigley (yay!), Giulia Grimm, Tori Foley (first Mothers day!), Terry Sundeen, Prudy Wood, and of course my mama, my mamas mama, my nana, my Grammie and all you soon-to-be mamas or moms that don't know you are mommies! Hee. Hope you day was FILLED with love and that amazing feeling of honor and beauty that all of you so deserve! YOU ARE what keeps the energy in this world flowing. Like our precious Mother Earth, each of you embrace life on this planet and form the foundation from which we can walk with strength and nurture and love. A toast to you with a glass of Sangria! Ahhh yes, Sangria. My new favorite drink. It scores as an incredibly close second to Vino de Mora... However, its got plenty more added sugar which gives that lovely "oh-crap-I-think-my-head-is-going-to-explode" effect right before going to bed. No, in all honesty, I haven't been going out much at all. Last Friday was my only night out this month and it turned out to be quite challenging in itself. It is somewhat difficult to understand any conversation while in a bar full of people that speak a different language, music blaring, glasses clinking, feet stomping, movement and sound EVERYWHERE!!! Whoah, get me out of this chaos please! Even though I was with a group of five friends, they were all cracking their own jokes and then trying to include me after they finished laughing... I found that I introverted and looked for distraction (be it going to the bathroom, acting like I was enthralled with something in the corner of the bar,... anything!) in attempt to liberate myself from this immediate madness inside my brain. In due time I suppose I will be able to take in more and more stimulation in the same moment. As for now, I enjoy quietude. This last month in Merida has been mostly dedicated to my studies... its quite strange, I have unknowingly created a student life here for myself. I lay down laws as to how much I am going to study each day and what material I want to cover. I even cancel out events or activities in order to adhere to my schedule. Most people (in particular those who never want to see hear the word "homework" again) would consider me a stupid lunatic for willingly submitting myself to hours of studying, memorizing and reading when I could be mountain biking, rock climbing or canyoning! However, its kinda hard to do these things when the person with whom you are mountain biking is telling you that there is a big sheep in the middle of the trail and you cant understand him because you don't speak Spanish! SHMACK! So, by default, my number one goal here is: To Learn Spanish! And always such a fun little challenge this goal proves to be... Especially when I am sitting on the porch of a farmhouse in the outskirts of Merida with a family of 10 at dusk. Everyone (except for me) has been drinking alcohol since 11am and all seem to want to speak to me all at the same time! I can hardly understand the drunk slurred English let alone a 70 year old dude with 4 teeth that smells like a barrel of whiskey trying to tell me jokes in Spanish one inch away from my ear... or when I take David to see Robot at the movie theater and can understand the film only because the cartoons are self explanatory and the music is in English... or when I go to get my $2 haircut and I try to explain to the woman how I want it ... "Si, por favor, mas corto aqui... y dejalo mas largo aquí... y mira a esta foto!" I show her a picture of my hair when I first arrived to Merida. However, the picture is taken when my hair was dry and she tries to simulate the cut as my hair is wet and any curly haired girl knows that when dry, the curls get twice as short. But who can blame her? I asked for my hair to be cut like it was in the picture... "Parece como antes, no?" she says. (looks like before, doesnt it?) Um sure. She charges me $2 and what more can I say? Well worth it, cuz she left about $2 worth of hair on my head! But not to worry... I laughed my way down the street and into the house only to encounter a stunned and quite sympathetic face of mi mama. "Lo crecera" she says. "It will grow back." Each day continues to be full of fun new surprises... and sometimes its nothing grandiose or extravagant. Most of the time, really, its those little experiences and encounters that make reflection so entertaining.... Like when Im doing my "homework" while listening to Spanish MTV then out of the blue, some old school random English song from the 80s comes on and I end up unconsciously tapping my pencil, bobbing my head and singing EVERY word to Footloose or Kylie Minogues Loco Motion... "Okay, so I use the subjunctive form here... Espero que tengas un buen --- C-mon, baby do the loco motion with me! You gotta swing your hips now! C-mon baby!" Um. Tiff, are you going crazy? Ha. Yes, the little experiences... or how bout when I go to the big amusement pool park with five little 8-year old boys and spend the whole day tossing them up in the air, playing chicken and then racing go carts with them after. And they get so excited to be able to practice their newly learned English with the Gringa de Los Estados Unidos. "Hime Sooo-rry." "Gooot Moorneeen" "Bai, Bai, Teeefany!" Too cute. While there are the little experiences that continuously surprise me, there are also those to which I have grown accustomed. I realized this when my the parents of my friend, Louisa, came to visit Merida. Coming from Scotland, they were shocked by many things, often daily occurrences or customs of the people in the city... things that I no longer noticed... things that I realized have actually become a part of my own reality and not just the reality of some foreign culture. I have gotten used to the town - the 10,000 zapaterrias (shoe fixer upper stores)... the 2 foot wide sidewalks and the people who don't move in order to let you pass... the cars from 1930 that have been revamped 400 times and literally have clocked in 250,000 miles -(that's a lot of drivin in a town that's 5 miles long!)... the unemployed dudes that sit on the park benches and bitterly mumble about the government and the church...the graffiti on every bare wall... $2 manicures and $1 movies... waiting 3 hours to exchange money only to find out the jefe that will do it for you is gone until Friday...walking down the sidewalk and frequently encountering the abrupt intrusion of urine molecules filling my ever-so-sensitive mountain air nostrils... the fact that I cant walk down by the river or through narrow pathways at night nor can I cross the street slowly at anytime without being ptacked by a rickety old aqua blue taxi with 3 wheels. I have gotten used to the bugs (okay maybe not the mozzies just yet)... but the spiders on my nightstand, ants in my bathroom, little black biting bugs on the trails. Hell, Ive even made the best of friends with the little cockroaches that crawl under my bed in order to play with the little mouse that makes his way from behind the stove in the kitchen all the way into my room. I have gotten used to boiling my water before I drink it... washing my dishes AND drying them by hand... using as little water, gas and electricity as possible (or rather, using ONLY what I NEED and no more), which in most cases seems to amount to very little. For, with every occurrence that has taken place in the last 3 months, I have come to the realization that in this precious life, I DON'T NEED MUCH. As a society, we are always seeking more of this, more of that... when in my opinion, the only thing we all really want is LOVE, simple love. Martin Prechtel, author of an amazingly beautiful book called Secrets of the Talking Jaguar, wrote, "Permanent multiple copies of any unique thing weakens the soul of the original instead of strengthening it. This insults the Gods." In our desperate attempt to have more more more in our overly-consumptive state, we lose our sense of Originality... be it food, houses, roads, technology... in our selfish and egotistical search for power and fortune, we lose the meaning behind creativity and passion. We build apartments and condos, millions of them, that all have the same lovely box shape and mundane exterior. We have lost the days of using the long hot midday hours to create our own bricks made of red dirt, of tying together bamboo to make a roof. We trade out the long genuinely heartfelt hours of carving our own front doors with symbolic designs for a slab of plastic with hinges. We trade out constructing our own furniture made of our favorite smelling wood for a sheet of plywood and six boring chairs to match. We have franchise upon franchise of stores selling the same crap, different brand. None better than the other. Ralphs, Vons, Albertsons, Rite Aid, Longs, Kmart, WalMart, Starbucks, Coffee Bean, Seattles Best, McDonalds, Carls Jr, Jack in the Box, Burger King, Wendys... supersize, double double... need 2 packets of Ketchup? Here, have 8. Need 2 napkins? Here have 10. More! More! More! We trade out small historical family businesses for big machinery and fast production. We exchange genuine, soulful, wholesome nutrient-dense food for chemically induced, genetically modified, toxic rapid production and cheap consumption. And as a result, we exchange a healthy body, mind and spirit for a chaotic, high-speed, programmed robot. Where has originality gone? We are lost on our own vortex of duplication and consumption. We are all striving to be like some previously determined figure of somebody elses imagination. Character and style are replaced by "image" and "expectation". Lost are tradition, history, simplicity and the expansive room for creativity. We give up moments to talk with our children, our parents, and our grandparents in order to surf the internet or work overtime for more money. We give up the enjoyment of taking a nature hike, watching the sunset, admiring a sky full of stars, in order to watch a television program that takes us away from the reality of our own lives. Originality. Where did it go? Dear God, please allow us to close our eyes and let the feeling of freedom take flight. Let the voice inside our own hearts create an original journey through the unknown. Why do we have to know EVERYTHING? What happened to the excitement in mystery and uncertainty? Why is it NOT okay to have fear, and to show that we are scared? What if we don't know when? Where? How? If? Why? Why must we pretend in order to accept ourselves? Where have we gone and where are we going? Our uniqueness is our fuel behind our freedom. And with every duplication, with every attempt to be like our neighbor, with every strive to have more and more... we weaken our ability to walk, talk, ,dance, laugh and play to the sound of our own music, the soul of our originality... Friends, I do not write in order to preach so please excuse me if this travelogue reaches you in that manner. I only write because I am inspired to do so. For, each day brings a new outlook to my heart and from this river of freshness and beauty, these words flow. So thank you for listening, or reading, rather... or perhaps you got tired of the poetic fluff and haven't reached this point at all. Either way, its all good. Like my friend, Eric recently said in an email, "Well, I originally hadn't planned on writing so much, just a littlenote to let you know what was going on, but as I typed and typed I found that Ifelt better and better. Kind of therapeutic." Ditto. So I suppose I should rethink my original motivation for this travelogue... for, it is now 7am in the morning and this could be one of my most fluid travelogues yet. In retrospect, perhaps I may have to eat my own words and dedicate this travelogue, in full honor.....to that little damn Mosquito.Bendiciones para siempre,Tiffany
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1113888840/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1113888840/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/salsatiff/sudamerica2005/1113888840/tpod.html Tue, 19 Apr 2005 17:41:21 -0400 South America: Una mujer... una exploracion de cultura... una realizacion de la naturaleza..y la liberacion de su alma.

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Cepe, Venezuela

Wow, much time has passed since sitting down to write a travelogue. Perhaps writing about each fresh experience with the detail and grace that they deserve becomes more and more intimidating as each day surpasses me. I collect so many thoughts, interesting and funny experiences, so many details that I want to share with elaborate, descriptive, poetic justice. I think I sometimes scare myself out of writing because I have some high expectation of how it should be presented. I think I have come to the conclusion that perhaps I should release this fear and just WRITE! Forget about what it SHOULD sound like, and write on impulse... So lets see, where do I begin? In one month, my senses have been constantly stimulated with new sights, smells, sounds, people, cultural experiences, natural beauty... all gifts from God. Ive been to meditations, to the beaches of the northern coast of Venezuela, and well perhaps the most notable occurrence is that an amazingly special person has crossed my path... and yes, for all you curious minds, He is a male! So to all those so-called "doubters" out there who always thought me to be toooooo selective and never thought I would find anyone that could saturate my soul, a toast to you with a glass of Vino de Mora (mind you, the BEST wine you will ever taste! Made of blackberries!)His name is Alberto and he is WONDERFUL. I wont bore you with all my love romance novel jargon but these feelings and emotions deserve to be shared because they are so beautiful and so real and so alive. And also for the mere selfish fact that writing about him makes me smile. JPerhaps the most difficult challenge of having a relationship with Alberto is how I have to work so hard to express the profoundness of my feelings in another language. There are times when I want to pour out my heart but I can not find the words that truly articulate my emotions... and I struggle and I struggle and I struggle. But when I cease the frustration and breathe deeply and purely, I begin to realize that the amazing and beautiful thing between us is our ability to understand each other without even having to speak... our ability to exchange energy and love through our eyes, our smiles, our mutual embrace. I never realized how powerful it could be to share this vital force with another human. For the first time in my life, I feel the Divine through our companionship and I feel a connection that is a million times deeper than words can ever articulate. We have spent days hiking through the mountains, going to movies, going to dinners at all the great spots around town, going dancing, having dinner parties with new friends, mountain biking, paragliding. A few weeks ago, we visited Las Aguas Termales... these amazing pristine natural hot springs nestled in a valley up in the high Andes... 10,500 feet above sea level. The full moon graced our presence as we bathed for nearly 2 hours under the night sky painted with stars. The silouhette of the mountain range, Pico Humbolt in the distance iced with snow, and only the brilliantly composed orchestral melody of trickling spring, the whispering crickets and the gentle night breeze in our ears. Solitude. Peace. Tranquility. Breath. Divinity at its finest. A night never to be forgotten.To my lament, Alberto is now traveling in Spain for 3 months. A nomad like myself and yet, another thing that I love about him. Both of us, strongly independent and soul-searchers at heart, with our own journeys, our own rhyme, our own rhythm... but also the ability to change and flow in a different direction if destiny should grant us new opportunities. Who knows if we will ever dance to the beat of the same drum again, but only time and destiny will tell. He has opened my heart to profound feelings that I have been hiding... emotions that I didn't know I could feel and emotions that I have been waiting to share with another person. So with my soul a little more illuminated, my spirit a little more liberated, my voids a little more completed, I will place my faith in the higher power and continue on with my intent here in Venezuela... living in the moment and appreciating each to its fullest. Since Alberto took off for Spain, I decided I wanted to take a trip to the northern coast of Venezuela... spent 10 days at the beach, baking in the sun, literally... I convinced myself to purchase my first-ever bathing suit that, well, lets just say it doesn't cover much of my rear-end! Needless to say, the part of my bum that had NEVER seen a drop of sunlight, became delightfully crispy and turned a lovely shade of fire engine red. Couldn't sit down for the first few nights and I think I served as the "furnace that wouldn't turn off" in our ever-so-comfy tent-for-three. A 15 hour journey, I ventured by bus from Merida to Maracay, Maracay to Choroni, Choroni to Cepe to meet up with my friend Louisa and her friend who was visiting from Scotland. The first bus was a double decker charter bus... quite nice, grade A bus with a bathroom... a clean bathroom! With only one stop in 12 hours, this lovely amenity is extremely necessary. I left Merida at 830pm... they only have night bus rides so the people can supposedly sleep while in route. But God only knows how one can sleep when the AC is on blast, creating a sort of "popcicle-meat-freezer-holy-cow-Im-getting-frostbite-on-my-ears" effect... while sitting next to a dirty old borracho who smells like a chimney... while spending two full hours watching, or rather, listening to a war movie full of Spanish cursing and gunshots... and while the bus driver, who Im certain was on crack, is trying to pass every car in sight let alone trying to avoid the cows in the middle of the road! Sleep?!??! Are you kidding me? I was so uncomfortable after about 3 hours, I had to get up and walk around. I sat down on the lower level steps and watched the little towns flash by, the people sitting outside their houses drinking Polar Ice (the local beer) and eating arepas and empanadas (the staple VZ foods). As I was about to return to my seat, I noticed as I walked past the front of the bus, that there was an empty seat right next to the bus driver. Hell, why not? I thought. So I persuaded him to let me sit in front with him. Yep, good ol manejador and Tiff sittin shotgun on the Flamingo! Turned out that wasn't such a grand idea... as he ended up talking my ear off in mumbled Spanish I couldn't hear over the loud engine, nor would I have been able to understand it had we been in a library! Anyway, he ends up telling me that his wife left him because he had a small penis and asked me if I would sleep with him. Um, okay, "ya me voy para arriba!" Im going back upstairs now! So the trip continued in the icebox. We arrived at our first, last and only stop at about 3am. About 30 different venders all selling the exact same crap! Caramelos (candy), pan (bread) and platanos (plantains). Oh, and don't forget the fried food. Yuck. Back on the bus and by 730 we arrived to Maracay... tired, dirty and looking rather not so pretty. A pitiful hop, a dragging skip, and a lazy jump away, I made my way to the bus which was to take me to Choroni. This bus, not so nice, but so much more character!!! A turquoise rendition of the school bus my parents must have taken in the 3rd grade! "La Magia Spoiler" written in Airbrush across the front of the bus. The rearview mirror, caked with stickers, necklaces, hanging angels and Virgin Marys... the dashboard adorned with fuzzy red and blue animal fur, old hairclips and dirty beanie babies ... stickers of Tweetie Bird and Jesus danced across the window. The road to Choroni was quite like a ride at Magic Mountain, or perhaps the one at Disneyland where the kid fell out and died. Switchbacks for 20 miles up a steep grade and the bus driver honked at EVERY curb... I happen to get the bus at 830am, the one that transports all the school kids. So there I am, the curly haired Gringa and about 30 Venezuelan school kids, heads swaying at every turn... HONK! HONK! Bob Marley playing on the radio, 2 guys hanging out the doorway simply because they just wanted to come along for the 2 hour ride, knees making a permanent indentation on the seat in front of me...Im sure to have a couple of knee replacements by the time I am 70!So finally, I reach Choroni. Im nearly attacked by all the Marinos that want to take me to the beach of my choice in their "lanchas". I end up going with Ricardo and Luis... which turned out to be the best decision of my trip... details to come later!I arrive in Cepe to find an amazingly beautiful pristine beach with a few posadas (travelers guest houses), a couple of food stands (that only serve fish), and a few guys who ended up being our tour guides for the week! Abrahan, Joel and Henry... all too cute and wonderful! They showed us all around their island... and fed us like queens! Lobster, Barakuta, Maro, and about 9 others I will never remember! Not much food other than fish on the island so it was soda crackers and a piece of fruit during the day, fish at nite... for 10 days! We drank Polar Ice and danced into the nite, Salsa and Reggaton. Fishing and snorkeling, and swimming, and boating... Scuba diving! How wonderful to dive in water so clear and so warm without a hoody or booties or a wetsuit or anything! Que bueno! And the fish, the coral, the plants, the shells... and of course, the peace... of listening to only your own bubbles of air rise to the surface of the sea. No noise, no chatter, no Spanish nor English, no cars, planes, no machines, nothing. Just me. Just my breath. Just marine life... quiet, tranquil and pristine. Unreal.My friends, Louisa and Kirsti had brought a tent in which we all camped for 5 days... by the end of our stay in Cepe, our humble abode was a little dirty and a little stinky...The girlsleft to return to Merida while I welcomed a transfer over to another island called Chuao. Which just so happens to be THE place in Venezuela where they make all the YUMMY chocolate! I even brought back some Cacao in order to attempt to make my own chocolate! Well see how that goes! Anyways, the two mariners that brought me to Cepe offered me to stay at their house on the island! Ricardo and Luis... two cousins who were complete down-to-earth gentlemen! For the next 4 nights, I slept in a hammock outside on their porch... they fed me breakfast, lunch, and dinner... Fish, fish and more fish! Luis is the best known fisherman on the coast and I was able to go snorkeling and watch him spear fish in the open sea! We drank beer, played chess, spoke broken Spanish, toured the pueblos together... they wouldn't allow me to pay them, so in exchange for their hospitality, I cleaned their house, washed their clothes and cooked dinner for them on my last night. Apart from being with them, I had my own little daily yoga retreat on the beach. A little yoga, a little meditation, a little star gazing at night. Returning myself back to my soul for re-energization... aaaaah. It is really quite strange how I truly feel it necessary to take a vacation from my vacation! With so much information being flushed into my brain, I feel drained ALL the time! Being in a new place, speaking a new language, making new friends, eating, sleeping breathing new EVERYTHING... it is a total change from what has been comfortable for the last few years of my life. It is true when they say that the greatest changes are made when you are out of your comfort zone. It is true that struggle brings the greatest reward. As I am finding out, the more I struggle, the more I appreciate the familiar things. Like family, friends, my yoga practice, my own breathe. Also, the more I struggle, the more I affect those around me and the more they believe in the perseverance through struggle. I become more real in a place that I don't know. I share my emotions freely because I don't need to hide anything. I don't care if people know I am sad. When I hurt, I cry. When I am elated, I smile and I laugh. I don't need to prove anything to anyone. I am here to learn. I am here to make mistakes. I am here to seek beauty and to find pain, and to LIVE! To live through it all and become stronger because of it! The people here appreciate what it is to be human. They accept the emotions of the heart and welcome the diversity and the struggle with open arms. For they don't have all the crap that we have in the states. They don't have all the money, the cars, the nice buses, the high tech stereos and computers, the Costos nor the Nordstroms. They don't have the washers and dryers, the big industrial kitchens, the swimming pools and health clubs. They don't have golf courses and super fancy restaurants, nor the big stadiums or convention centers. They don't throw away food that they don't eat nor do they waste precious clean water to hose down the sidewalk! They save electricity and preserve the natural habitats of the animals and birds. There are bars on every window and trash in all the streets. There are huge uneven cracks and 3 foot deep holes in the sidewalks... and its your own damn fault if you trip, fall and break your leg. There are no lawsuits. If you fall out of the bus because it is packed like a can of sardines and the only place for you to stand is halfway out the doorway... too bad! They don't have heaters or air conditioners, nor brand new BMWs or convertible Porches touring the streets with the top down (no offense if any of you own these!) They don't work 70 hours a week only to come home every night and fall asleep in front of the TV. They take time. They take time to rest in the middle of the day, to have lunch with each other, to be with family and friends. And when they come home from work at night, they do it again. They take time to be creative. They make their own yogurt, their own wine, their own juices, granola, you name it! They grow their own fruit trees and raise their own chickens and cows... without genetically modifying anything! They hang dry their own clothes and hand wash their own dishes.And they share! They are not selfish. They don't hoard everything that they own to themselves... Because they know the works of God. Give and you shall Receive. They give. They give and give and give some more. They give even when they don't have anything. They will let a complete stranger come into their house and live for 4 months without letting them pay for a thing! They work HARD. They work for an entire week only to be able to afford one meal for their family. They build their own bricks to make their own houses. They sweat and grind and still... STILL find time to LOVE and to be LOVED. THIS IS the culture of Latin America. This IS the beauty of simplicity. In the states, we have SO much and yet, we are SO poor. Here, my spirit and my soul is rejuvenated by the amazing grace and richness of nature and culture. Here, I am made whole again. Aqui, me regreso al corazon...Okay, off my soapbox! So my Spanish is getting SO MUCH better now. I am finally past the really frustrating stage and am now picking up the daily conversation lingo and can understand the majority of what people say. I am reading Spanish magazines, watching TV (I watched Beverly Hills 90210 and Melrose Place today! HA! Remember Dillon and Brandon, girls?!?!) and watching movies with Spanish subtitles (this is perhaps one of the best ways to learn, being able to hear the English words, see them translated in Spanish and also be able to associate a picture or action with the words). I am studying from a couple great websites as well as meeting with my Spanish speaking buddies a few times a week to review sentences and talk talk talk! There are however the occasional "whoopsies" that recharge the laughter battery... Ill leave you with this one... There are two words, Cola and Cula. Cola means "ride" and Cula means (well, it's the harsher word for "bootie") Anyway, the aunt an uncle of la familia were giving me a ride to El Centro the other nite and I was practicing what I was going to say to them when I got out of the car, certain that my words would be understood and that I would sound well-informed and well-learned. However, instead of saying "thank you so much for the ride!" I ended up saying "Gracias por la cula!" As soon as I shut the door and began to walk away from the car, I realized that I had just said to these people of much respect... "thanx for the ass!" Until next time...Muchas Risas y Mucho Sol...Tiffany
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