Baja

I'm so grateful for the opportunity to spend the holiday with friends and family. Seeing my mom and brother's smiling faces in the airport when they picked me up was the best feeling. 

For the past nine days, it was as if life had returned to normal and everything was as it had been when I left. 

We had a great time together in Baja. We stayed in a beautiful house in a town called Los Barrilles in the southern part of Baja. We were on the Sea of Cortez and the views were incredible- bright blue water crashing into the sandy shore. Brightly colored squares splotched the sky as dozens of people kiteboarded off the shore. The beach gradually turned into the dry desert sand and was decorated with huge cactus trees and pokey bushes. The town is small and mostly ex-pats but the authentic areas are scattered with Taquerias and stores that sell Pacifico.

One day we drove to the Pacific side to surf at Todos Santos. Madde, Jake and I surfed in the warm water until the sun went down, illuminating the sky with a beautiful pink and reflecting a brilliant red on the surface of the water. 

Another day we went to Cabo Pulmo, a national park containing the only living reef in the Sea of Cortez. We snorkeled through the water searching for Nemo and Dori until we had ingested enough salt water, thanks to our malfunctioning 

masks.

On another occasion, we rented jeeps and went out exploring the sandy dirt roads. We drove up the dried creek beds in search for a waterfall and were slightly disappointed when we finally arrived at a five foot drop of water over some boulders. Some of us decided to venture up the hillside and got a little taste of what it would be like to be lost in the desert; not so pleasant. 

We had bonfires on the beach during night. It was wonderful sitting out under the stars; listening to the sounds of the crackling fire, the breaking waves on the shore and Van Morrison's voice as they all perfectly blended into a chorus of tranquility. The full moon illuminated everything around us, even the bottom of the ocean as we swam. We would sit and chat as the fire dried our wet bodies. Some nights I fell asleep on my towel and other nights my mom coaxed us all to stand up and dance to the music.

Some nights we played Shanghai or spoons, and when the rains from the supposed Hurricane Saundra hit us, we went out and splashed in the deep puddles that were rapidly accumulating outside.

For thanksgiving, we went to the market in town and bought a variety of foods. We all helped out in the kitchen, slicing veggies and putting shrimp on skewers. We took breaks to sit by the pool and soak up the sun. All sitting around the big dining table at the end of the night, we enjoyed the lovely non-traditional Thanksgiving dinner we had created and took turns saying what we were thankful for. 

There's a lot to be grateful for in this world. I'm feeling extremely lucky to have all the wonderful people I have in my life.

Photo Update

I was able to download some photos from the first leg of my trip! Here's the link for the albums :)

Galapagos Photos:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.919238448160755.1073741861.100002238269067&type=1&l=32cfabb82c

Phase Two

¡Mexico!

I left Canoa Thursday night at 9:00 pm and arrived at Los Barriles, Baja California at 2:30 am on Saturday morning. Overnight bus ride to Quito, an hour long taxi ride to the airport then four hours in the airport. Four and a half hour plane ride to Mexico City, an hour of customs and another hour of security again. Nine and a half more hours of waiting in the strange airport then a two hour flight to Cabo San Lucas where I met my lovely family!! I will spend the next ten days with them here in Mexico. 27 straight hours of traveling is proving to be a tad tiring, but I'm so excited to see the fam.

Ama La Vida: Ecuador In Review

Goodbyes are seemingly more difficult when traveling. In the states when we say goodbye to one another, it's usually just until we see them again, see them soon. On the contrary, most of the goodbyes I have said here are forever. This concept hits me every time I get onto the bus and the wheels pull away from the station, leaving behind every connection I had established over the previous weeks. Every time I changed towns, I had to say goodbye to all the lovely new people I came to know. Leaving my established routine and familiarity for a completely blank slate; to start from zero all over again. Each goodbye was accompanied with the realization of how many new friends I'd made and how quickly and easily these people invited me into their lives and treated me as though we'd been friends or family for years. 

As I look back at my time in Ecuador, the first thing that comes to mind is the people. 

I think of Richard, the guy who cooked on our boat in the Galápagos. Darwin, our friend who taught us about geology and tried to touch the hammerhead sharks when we were snorkeling. I think of Mario, the man who runs a beautiful bed and breakfast in Quito with his wife, and I remember him waving goodbye to us out of the tall beautiful door. Jose, the owner of the nature reserve who reluctantly played cards with me at night and told me about the 60's and how he got out of the draft. Fousto, the man who helped me ride the mules to the reserve and showed me all the scary bugs he found. Alex, my young friend who opened my eyes to what t means to be fortunate and who swam in the cold waterfall with me when it was sunny. Todd, my hiking buddy from Colorado who adventured to a waterfall hidden in the forest with me. Wilson, the person who took me to my first disco teka and taught me how to say the body parts in Spanish. Lily, my friend from Alaska who was excellent company in the streets of Quito as we enjoyed delicious juices and ice cream. Leila, the woman who invited me into her house and taught me how to make ceviche and fried platanos. Olga, the sweet lady who says "mi amor" every time she talks to me. Luis, my friend who I went out to get batidos with at night as I helped him practice his English. Frederico, the guy from Austria who took surf lessons with me and was always equally as confused as I was when people started talking too fast. Roque, my "tourist guide" who kept me occupied every day and had the simplest and most light-hearted laugh I've ever heard.  His daughters, Olartia and Nerexy who I went to fiestas with, swam in the waterfall with, and ran through the cemetery with at night. Delsi, the woman who knitted as I slept on the ground under the cacao tree when we finished picking maraquya. Mario, my surf teacher who helped me paddle out past where the waves were braking and laughed as I struggled to sit balanced on my board. Alberto, the surfer bum who walked the beach with me and showed me all the coolest bars. Ingo, the Brasilian who brought me to a good hostel and sat with me on the beach to watch the sunset. 

My time in Ecuador flew by. The country is so vast and diverse it would take at least a year to explore everything it has to offer. Each municipality has a different dish, a different indigenous culture, a different dialect, a different history and a different economy. 

I absolutely loved seeing a slice of these different aspects of the country and am hungry to return one day to continue my exploring. 

"Ama La Vida" is the slogan for Ecuador and it means "Love The Life." I think this is a very fitting slogan because everyone I met was so incredibly happy. Though their lives at first appeared to be simple and repetitive, they lacked the stress and distractions that we face on a daily basis in the U.S. They live a pure and simple life and I'm so grateful to have taken part in it. I will always remember the kindness and hospitality they so generously showed me.

Until next time Ecuador... Ciao.

New Waters

It's like snowboarding, only different. I walk out into the waves, picking up my heavy legs in the moving water as though I was making a fresh boot track in the powder. I look out to the horizon and a smile reaches across my face as I think of the joy I am about to experience. 

Battling against the waves, I trudge out farther and farther into the ocean. Now, we wait. For a moment it is still. I spot a wave about to break and Mario yells to me to catch it. I start to paddle with my tired arms and look back over my right shoulder just as the wave nears my feet. I push up on the board and my feet navigate to a balanced stance. Now I'm here to enjoy the ride. I shift my weight between my legs and practice my turns, remembering what Cedrich told me, "it's just like snowboarding in powder, use your back leg." I get closer to the shore and dive off into the water. Some of the local surfer guys were watching me catch that one and, because I'm the only foreigner and female currently in the water, they pump their fist in the air; they're  cheering me on.

It feels good. My knees are sore from continually hitting the waxed board and my ribs have a nice little sore spot where they rest on the board. My hair is tied in  knots and my nose stings from ingesting the salt water. 

Every once in a while I get tumbled in a big wave. Freely floating through the spinning water, I plug my nose and let the ocean take me for a ride. Eventually the water releases me from its hold and I take a breath of fresh air. The leash cord tugs on my ankle as my board spins up and out of the wave.

It's just like snowboarding. A board under my two feet, floating on the surface of water. It's so much fun.

It's an adrenaline rush. 

Here, every day is a powder day.

Ecuadorian Hamburgeza (cheeseburger)

Beef, fried fish, ham, fried egg, lettuce, cucumber, tomato, cheese, mayonnaise sauce, bun. 

America, you're doing it wrong...

How To: Café

It is crazy to think of all the work that goes into making that brown substance we so effortlessly scoop into our coffee makers at home.

First you have to dry out the pink fruit. We laid it all out on the sidewalk by our house and let the sun do its magic.

Next you have to crush the shells to remove the small little green beans inside. After you make a fool of yourself trying to separate the shells, you roast the beans over the stove for about an hour. Finally, you put the cooked beans back into the grinder and the result is coffee. The best coffee you have ever tasted.

The past few days of work now result in a warm cup of joe; one which will be gone in less than five minutes.