JKL Worldwide!!!

415 Days Later

2009-12-02T01:06:00.000-08:00

Well. We are havıng a hard tıme tryıng to fıgure out what to say on thıs day -- for those of you who don't already know, today ıs the last of thıs trıp. Tonıght Laura and Paula wıll put me on a traın bound for Budapest where a job and home awaıt, whıle early tomorrow mornıng they are gettıng on a plane headed for Phıladelphıa (by way of Chıcago, because we are stıll ınto sufferıng ın the name of savıng money).

Our last week ın Turkey has been spent drınkıng Turkısh coffee, eatıng delıcıous hot(!) helva, faılıng to become accustomed to the call to prayer that domınates the cıty for a few mınutes at a tıme fıve tımes a day, and vısıtıng the Hagıa Sophıa. Yes, the Hagıa Sophıa was ıncredıble ın ıts sıze and desıgn and most ımportantly allowed Jess a proper forum to dıscuss her newly learned archıtectural terms (as her teacher I enlıghtened her on such topıcs as squınches vs. pendentıves, groın vaults, and spolıa). I wıll, however, remember Istanbul most fondly for the people we have met whıle beıng here. Not sınce our Yoga teacher certıfıcatıon program way back ın Indıa have we been ın one place for such a perıod of tıme and had the opportunıty to make so many frıends. We have been made part of a lovely Turkısh famıly wıth a mother who overfeeds us and reads our fortune ın the graıns of our coffee, a 13 year-old son who may be on the ınternatıonal playstatıon cırcuıt, and an older son who has acted as our ambassador and socıal dırector.

It has ındeed been the best way to brıng thıs trıp to an end -- gettıng used to the ıdea of beıng ın one place agaın. We thınk ıt wıll be a bıt strange at fırst. The thıngs that we are excıted about range everywhere from real towels to ıce cream to sweatshırts to adorable babıes named Henry, and havıng these thıngs at our dısposal all at once wıll be overwhelmıng. Clearly, there wıll be some reverse culture shock ın effect. Yet, we are ready to be ın one place and are lookıng forward to all the adventures that the comıng months wıll brıng.

Thanks for keepıng up wıth us on our blog. It hasn't always been so thorough or up to date, but perhaps that ıs because the amount of tıme spent bloggıng about our travels ıs ın ınverse proportıon to the number of adventures and awe-ınspırıng experıences we have had along the way.

PS. For Marcus -- fınal tally: us 400, world 15. We wın bıg tıme.

We won't be eating turkey on Thanksgiving, but we will be IN Turkey. Who wins?

2009-11-23T13:28:00.000-08:00

We realize we have been terrible at the whole Blog writing thing as of late. Let's just say that we think that perhaps the traveling has finally caught up to us. It only took 13 months.

We are still having the most fabulous time. After Albania, we hopped a very schmance bus to Thessaloniki, Greece. Ah, we have come so far since the 4 day bus extravaganza that happened just one year ago while traveling from Peru to Santiago. Compared to that hellish experience, this bus was pure luxury. That is, if you consider luxury to be watching very loud and poorly produced Albanian music videos for 6 hours straight. Thankfully, we see everything as a cultural experience.

Greece proved wonderful. We were staying with a university student who quickly taught us how to score free food from the dining hall, and free internet from the library. We were also in Thessaloniki for the start of the annual international film festival. The MC of the event is a favorite of this group - director Werner Herzog. Alas, I am constantly reminded just how unique Los Angeles is for the film industry everytime we go to film events. At the Herzog exhibit for example, the projectors were not working. The PROJECTORS were not working at a FILM festival. Despite minor setbacks such as the one just described, Greece was still magical and a great place to celebrate my 24th birthday. Yikes how did I get so old? After borrowing 20+ apples from the dining hall, Laura managed to make the most delicious apple crisp to celebrate the day. We also visited the local bar, complete with local Greeks. We like Greeks. One of the pictures is of Laura and the beautiful view over center Thessaloniki out to the ocean.

Onward to Istanbul we went. We were greeted by a very proper city, and a very welcoming family. Good thing I met a real Turkish momma, because I proceeded to come down with a mysterious illness (I am refusing to fall victim to the swine flu hype) but recovered in no time thanks to delicious hommeade tea, and no end of mysterious herbal compresses. Turkish momma also has some fascination with trying to make me fat. This is a fact she states to me every morning as she plunks rice and salad and eggs and vegetables galore in front of me - too skinny! I am ok with the situation. Especially when she gives me ice cream at the end of Sunday brunch. This is the way to my heart so take note all.

We have seen some of the sights, but not any of the big ones yet. For now we are satisfied wandering in and out of small mosques, and generally losing ourselves in Istanbul. We have more than a week here still, so we are taking it slow.

We wish everyone in the states a very happy thanksgiving! Laura and I are determined to make this one better than the last. That shouldn't be too hard considering last thanksgiving consisted of cream cheese and orange soda in a bus station. We have plans to cook proper holiday food, and any suggestions are welcome. I should mention that besides the picture of Laura and the view, there is a picture of us in Tirana (capital of Albania) at some sort of world record setting thing. The record was the largest mosaic ever made out of paint brushes. Yeah. We don't get it either, but the mosaic was of MJ, and we do get him.

Love and kisses to all!
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In a flugon

2009-11-06T07:09:00.000-08:00

Here we are back at the trekking - overlooking the biggest fjord in southern Europe in Kotor, Montenegro.

It has been a while since we have traveled in anything than the most standard modes of car, train, and bus. Now, however, we are in Albania which means things aren't quite as easy and I must say that the change is welcomed. At the moment I am sitting front and center in a mini bus as the driver pays equal attention to the woman talking on my right as he is to the winding road he is navigating. The location of the bus stop was a total mystery as is the tin foil wrapped food that was just flung onto the dashboard.

Albania is beautiful as I am just now getting the chance to see - we are in the midst of a mountain range (maybe the Balkans?) and I am seeing the leaves change color for the first time in two years. Beautiful, yes, but also disorganized and covered in garbage. As we have only been here for one day there is much to learn, but this is what we have so far - Albania was under intense isolationism led by a paranoid leader who thought Maoist communism was too lenient of a policy. Physical remnants of this recent historical period cover the landscape - low lying, UFO-shaped cement bunkers. The then dictator thought it better to build said bunkers for all of his countrymen in case of attack instead of allying himself with a more powerful country (any really). Supposedly these bunkers are virtually indestructable as people have been unsuccessfully trying to level them since 1990. Since then it seems as though Albania is doing pretty well - it is now the 2nd poorest country in Europe (sorry Moldova) and its capital city Tirana certainly seems to have the modern amenities of other major cities.

We are now in Albania after a short time in tiny and beautiful Montenegro and a bit more time in Serbia and Budapest, Hungary. While in Serbia we were educated on what really happened when Yugoslavia disbanded/fell apart mostly by a German woman whose farm we were working on for 2 weeks. After the death of George we needed some time to come up with a new plan so we headed to yet another wwoofing venue outside of Belgrade to once again plant little lettuces and general toiling in the fields. The farm was nearly sustainable and so it was very interesting to see how they use everything they have to feed themselves and their animals while accruing very few expenses (this is in part thanks to their refusal to heat our rooms).

I am going to stop blogging now as we are off the bus and I just slipped on an orange peel, yes actually, and should go clean up.
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The problem with mobile blogging...

2009-10-18T02:44:00.000-07:00

Although the photo on the last blog of Paula and David Bowie serenading each other on her birthday is nice, I wanted to put a photo up all of the girls at our candlelit cooking class.

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One year anniversary (plus a few days)

2009-10-16T16:10:00.000-07:00

As unreal as it may seem, a full year of travel has passed by for us. Using the term 'passed' makes it seem like someone has died or we haven't been conscious of what a rare, incredible experience we have made for ourselves. Thinking back on what we were thinking, feeling, and doing a year ago is a comedic endeavor - we actually had no idea what we were doing. We were terrified of spending any money which meant a lot of aimless wandering and empty stomachs. We still do not like to spend so much money and firmly believe that wandering around a city is often the best way to get to know the place, but suffering is unequivocally out of our lives. In fact, we are pretty good at this whole traveling thing by now, but were very happy and grateful to have a 2 week reprieve from our lifestyle as my mother and later on my sister in law came to pamper us.

The benefits of my mother's arrival proceeded her by exactly 10 kilometers. That is to say, George gave up at that spot and my mother was able to quickly lift our spirits through her motherly comfort, dry white wine, and clean clean beds. Our two weeks in Portugal and Spain were action packed.

We drove through landscapes covered in olive trees as far as eyes much better than mine could see, went to a flamenco show which was surprisingly impressive, toured beautiful Moorish buildings, gawked at Las Meninas(!) and Guernica(!!) on the SAME day, and got to the bottom of Spain's 20th century history, to name a few.

On my mom and Katie's last day with us we took a cooking class in Barcelona. It was a great experience the whole way through. Our instructor was a soft-spoken woman who knew of Amma our favorite Hugging Hindi Saint and wore sequin covered sneakers - two points to her. She then tells us that we are going to learn to make the group's three favorite Spanish dishes - gazpacho, tortilla espanol (a fancy omelette filled with potatoes), and paella. While Katie and I are blanching tomatoes, the power goes out. Although this delayed our cooking and prolonged our 'starve', we happily imbibed in the fully stocked refrigerator's supply of wine in the impromptu candlelit kitchen - thankfully only the eating was ahead of us! It was a wonderful conclusion to a lovely two week 'vacation' from our usual traveling.

Due to George's death, we took the opportunity to change around our plans for the next month or so. A day after the Fox ladies returned to the States, we boarded a plane to Budapest, Hungary. The city is beautiful and all, but honestly we are having a tough go at it. We have had a huge shock to our systems as we currently find ourselves in the first properly cold weather in a year and a half. Within a few days we will be in Serbia on a bio-dynamic, sustainable farm just as we were at the same time last year in Argentina. My hope is that in the past year I have become patient and calm enough not to have a near breakdown this time around while picking burning, fly-covered weeds eight hours a day in the fields. Progress reports to follow.
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George was euthanized.

2009-10-01T05:17:00.000-07:00

Worth noting: here we are waving hello to the homeland as we overlook the Atlantic on continental Europe's most Western point, yayer.

So yesterday morning we woke up at 5 am in order to make it to Lisbon in time to meet my mother and commence two weeks of comfortable beds, bountiful beakfasts, and flowing wine amongst other things. The drive into Lisbon was easy, maybe too easy as we are accustomed to getting hopelessly lost at least once on every drive, which of course means that something is bound to go wrong. 10 kilometers outside of Lisbon we pull up to the toll booth and as my foot is firmly on the brake, George starts to roll backwards. As we are blocking the morning commuters into Lisbon, we push the car out of the way, or at least try to when a man jumps out of his car and says in accentless English, 'do you need some help?'. Thank god for Canadians. After our new friend made a call to his mechanic, we saw George towed away and told by a man with no front teeth and a pinache for flirtatious lip movements that George was dead - he conveyed this to us by clasping his hands together at the side of his head and pretending to sleep after trying to make engine work. Moral of the story, George is legally dead and being compressed into a small block to be sold by weight - we are in mourning. Thankfully my mother has arrived and we are already enjoying the luxuries and comforts of having some mothering.
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Mission accomplished!

2009-09-29T06:43:00.000-07:00

I feel a bit like a Pilgrim setting up a charter in New England, but, yes, we set out with a mission to go around the world and we have done just that. Well, mostly. We left the United States from the Western edge of the Atlantic Ocean and are now situated on one of Europe's farthest westward reaching Atlantic coastlines, but aren't done yet! We have been in Portugal for only a day now and we enjoy it thoroughly so far. Portugal has always been a bit of a mystery for us. At this point we are fairly well traveled and have met many other travelers from every corner of the globe, but until yesterday I didn't know a single Portuguese. It has been rationalized to us by the mere fact that the entire nation is just a touch larger than the population of New York City, but with slightly less spending power and thus traveling abilities. So, yes, Portugal is great, as was our far too quick jaunt through Spain and France. In France we were lucky enough to meet up with two of our friends from the good old days in the Australian camper can - Laurene and Olivier. It was so nice to see some beloved familiar faces despite being a bit shocked that we have been doing 6 months of continual traveling since last seeing them. After visiting them in Lyon, we had a few days to explore the Basque country on both the French and Spanish side and it was not only a beautiful region, but it seems as though the people there have a heightened awareness and appreciation of the beauty of their land and culture that seemed to make it a very nice region in which to live. The reason we are moving quite quickly through this area of the world is that tomorrow we are meeting my mother in Lisbon for two weeks of travel through Portugal and Spain (yes, George was invited too) that is sure to be a lovely time and a long anticipated reunion!
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Germany (especially Germans) are spectacular

2009-09-20T05:11:00.000-07:00

As the radio is particularly bad on this sunny Sunday afternoon spent flying down the autobahn in the mostly trustworthy George mobile, I have time enough to reflect on the 5 weeks that we have spent in and out of Germany which today officially comes to a close as we are headed to Switzerland. Germans are great, albeit chain smokers, who have been very friendly, thoughtful, and bearers of good conversations.

After a most interesting week spent in Poland getting an education on the Soviet Bloc, we went to Berlin and did pretty much everything someone of our generation 'should' do while there - we spent time in awe of the Pergamon Altar (a masterpiece of Hellenistic Greece that the Germans replanted to Germany in order to 'protect' it), drank delicious German beer in dingy bars, discussed contemporary art and cinema, and stayed up way too late dancing. Berlin seems to be an extremely complicated city with everything from pristine commerical and the yuppies that go along with it to areas of grafittied, mostly abandoned buildings inhabited by anarchists and Turkish immigrants. The remnants of the Wall and the division it represented is ever present, but, for me, it wasn't depressing as the city is so alive with a constant stream of artists coming to the city to benefit from the city's massive arts initiative program. Most importantly while in Berlin, our dear friend Paula joined us and has already folded into our lifestyle and all signs point to her approving of said lifestyle. It occurs to me that what we do on a daily basis remains a mystery to most people and so I think Paula should write a little guest blog in a bit to give her opinion of this life of ours. After leaving Berlin we drove to Nuremburg with the intention of staying for a short while and then making the short trip to Munich to spend a day at Oktoberfest. Instead of spending too much money drinking with British and Japanese tourists in an overcrowded tent as we were told we would, we decided to stay in lovely Nuremburg and make our own Oktoberfest and I must say, we did pretty well for ourselves. We watched a soccer match while at a beer garden, ate traditional Bavarian food, learned how to pour and drink proper Bavarian beer from proper Bavarians. In other words, Germany has been very good to us. As we cross the border into Switzerland, a new phase of our European chapter begins - the mad dash to Portugal. We will spend the next ten days 5 countries with the goal of meeting up with my mother in Lisbon for a much anticipated tour through Portugal and Spain. We are often told how 'American' our plan to drive such a distance in such a short period of time is, but we are looking forward to it as we anticipate it being very beautiful drive, and besides, the possibilities for adventure are endless.
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#17 (countries, that is)

2009-09-04T13:05:00.000-07:00

Hello from Poland. If I knew how to say/write hello in Polish I would, but let's not kid ourselves here. However, I DO know how to say "dziekuje" ( pronounced something like "gin qu yay") which means thank you, never mind that I get laughed at almost everytime I say it due to what I guess is poor pronunciation. Oh, I also know how to say "nastrovia!" which is synonymous to our "cheers!" pre shot. What else have I learned since being in Poland?
1. I cannot keep up drink for drink with 3 polish men, though I tried valiantly.
2. Pierogies (dumpling-like things filled with cheese, potatoes, or sauerkraut) are the only things that will make you feel better after trying to keep up drink for drink with 3 polish men.
3. Polish highschools are the same as highschools in the states.

I will elaborate on that last one since it didn't really flow with my previous train of thinking. We were asked by a friend who teaches English at a local Polish highschool in Kolobrzeg to come in and talk to the students about our travels and our lives in the states. Laura, who does not have the fondest high school memories, actually reported feeling nervous as we walked through the doors and throngs of youngsters copying homework, flirting, and texting. They were just like us 7 years ago. The building itself also had an eerie familiarity - walls painted a terrible shade of olive, smells of burning oil from the cafeteria and bleach from the bathrooms, and the ubiquitous flickering flourescent light fixtures that I am now convinced are put there by THE MAN to induce headaches in students worldwide. But, Laura worked through her anxiety (plus, I promised her that if any girl was mean to her, I would steal that girl's boyfriend) and we ended up having a great time with the students sharing our pictures and stories.
The students and teachers also helped to give us a history lesson about the eastern European bloc, as we talked a lot about Poland's tendency to be invaded, and eventually the success of post-Solidarity Poland.

Life in the GeorgeMobile is well. Ah, yes, we have christened the minivan in honor of the one CD we could afford at the used record place in Germany - Faith, by George Michael. A classic for sure, and it came with a nifty poster that has a place of honor in the front. We have been enjoying driving around the Polish countryside, blasting the sounds of our man George, making friends, and exploring this oh so fascinating part of the world.

For Marcus, just to let you know we are still keeping count: us 311 world 15. Yah, we are still kicking bootay.
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Back in the West

2009-08-29T08:47:00.000-07:00

These photos may be in need of captioning - in no particular order they are my leg after falling down some wet steps, Jess' shoes being laid to rest in a mall trash bin, me with the biggest dyke in Holland(!) and the precious little town of Edam.

Less than 20 days in Europe and so much has happened - I suppose that is what can happen when you can drive through multiple countries and experience their unique cultures and languages within a few hours. Flying into the Frankfurt International Airport was like any other fancy, big airport we have been in lately. The public transportation, however, felt very, well, German. It was so clean that it didn't have any smell and instead of using the area surrounding the train tracks as your trash bin, there not only was a trash bin on the train, but next to every set of seats! It was also silent - an experience we have not had in a very very long time. When we emerged into one of Frankfurt's main squares in the middle of a workday, the sight actually caused us to stumble a few steps back in shock - there was no one there! Well, hardly anyone...and the people that were there were not trying to sell anything, befriend us, or try to get our attention in any way. As a contrast, on our final taxi ride to the Delhi airport while sitting in traffic, an Indian ladyboy (I am forgetting the proper term now but Hindus believe they have mystical powers and can curse you) stuck her (his) hand into the car with neatly folded 10 rupee notes between her fingers urging me to add to the collection by smiling, batting her eyelids, and repeatedly jabbing my thigh with her hand. Jess on the other side of the taxi is having fashion magazines opened and thrown in her face while she is simultaneously yelling at the ladyboy to leave me alone. Moral of the story, if something goes terribly wrong for us, it is because we didn't give some rupees to the ladyboy AND the transition from India to Germany felt like we were both coming home to a familiar place and entering an alternate universe as the two countries could not be more of a contrast. That being said, we loved India - there is truly no place like it on earth that we have been to - and being in western Europe has also been spectacular. Drinking tap water, eating salad, and not being grimy at the end of a day are all greatly appreciated novelties for us.

While still transitioning to life in the West we thought it high time to buy a car. Please do not jump to conclusions by assuming that Jess and I are prepping our families and friends for the announcement of a civil union with our decision to buy a minivan, but yes it just so happens that a minivan is the most responsible and biggest purchase that we have made individually or as a unit. We had been told that buying a car in Europe while not being a part of the European Union is nearly impossible, but hey, we like a challenge. We found a guy on the internet in the city of Koblenz near to Frankfurt who sold campervans and also bought them back when travelers were done with them. After realizing that we actually cannot drive manual cars not to mention an old VW Westfalia on the Autobahn, we decided to try our luck elsewhere. We proceeded to spend the next 3 days in the office of a Lebanese man who refused to speak English to us and was referred to only as chief by his trusty assistant and our new friend. Before setting off in the sun with our legally registered, export plate-d minivan, we discovered that Koblenz is actually a lovely city filled with historic buildings, a rich history, and darling people. We then continued on to Cologne, Bruges in Belgium, a few small cities in the Netherlands including Amsterdam, and then back into Germany to Bremen a few days ago and Hamburg as of yesterday. I think this is the fastest we have been moving in the past 10 plus months, but getting in our lovely minivan every few days and driving for a few hours through lovely countryside is not so difficult a task. Here is a varied list of things we have learned recently - Belgian waffles really are better in Belgium, the cheese in Edam really is as good as you would think (Jess snarkily points out how much sample cheese I ate there), blonde children might just be the cutest, our minivan does indeed have a CD player and Melanie C isn't so bad, electrical tape does not permanently repair shoes, Jess is average size for a woman in the countries recently visited, my German is not so shizey, Holland and Netherlands (colloquially) are the same thing, Lebanese men know how to export a car, swans are nearly deadly, Belgian beer really is that delicious, Colin Farell is sadly not running around Bruges, Formula 1 racing might actually be interesting, German bars really look like how they are imitated to be in the states, neo-Nazis exist, Grimm fairy tales can really help a city's tourism, the west is obsessed with cleanliness and there are no smells here, Van Gogh didn't start painting until the last 10 years of his life, finding a parking spot for a minivan is not so easy in a city planned a thousand years ago, and to round the list out, people are kind to us wherever we go.

Jess and I, being of a certain breed, are naturally inclined to plan and perhaps you could go so far as to say that we can even overthink things on occasion. Thankfully, traveling beat that out of us pretty quickly so here we are, in Hamburg, with our minivan embarking tomorrow on a journey into former Soviet occupied Germany and Poland. We decided this yesterday and think it will be great fun - vodka, accordions, perogies and all.
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Ch-ch-changes!

2009-08-05T00:50:00.000-07:00

We have been slacking and thus have a myriad of updates to announce. I will proceed in chronological order - first, we have adopted a kitten, or perhaps she has adopted us. While Jess was reading in bed, she heard the most pitiful whining and before she could identify the source, she had a little, black alien kitten curling up under her chin. We have named her Kitten, a classic, and have spent the last few weeks becoming too attached to her whiny, playful little self while being amazed by her growth and progress. As I said, she looked like an alien with huge eyes and protruding cheek bones, and is now just an adorable 6-ish week old kitten who has now worked up to catching and eating little lizards and spiders! We are very proud mothers, yet have failed her in a way by transforming her from a survivor, orphan kitten to a domesticated baby who sleeps only when having direct contact with a warm body (in other words, German neighbor Deiter's method of putting her in a small plastic bucket at night is unsatisfactory for both Kitten and me). We are currently trying to recruit some equally sappy, sentimental kitten-keepers to look after her when we leave, which is quite soon because...

We are officially yoga teachers! After a month of daily practice, leading classes, and putting our bodies in new, unforeseen positions, we are certified. One may think we would be the very vision of health, alas...

We are both sick! Well kind of, mine is self- inflicted as I have decided to do this Ayurvedic cleanse called Panchakarma that has been hip and trendy in India for say, the last 5,000 years, and has just caught on in the greater Los Angeles. Jessica warns me against sharing this as all of the Los Angelinos will judge me for giving into the latest of the Hollywood health fads along with Lindsay Lohan and Madonna, alas the 2 week treatment comes to a close tomorrow and it has been a most fascinating experience. Unlike western medicine that concentrates on curing the physical with medication while discounting the role of the emotional and mental self, Ayurveda takes all three as equally influential on the functioning of the body and its health. The point of the cleanse is to take the toxins out of the body which means that the doctor took a wooden stick and pressed it into very specific pressure points all over my body provoking the organs to release the stored toxins. So for a few days I walked around with 23 years of toxins flowing out of my organs causing me to be weak, nauseas, and a little unhinged - generally a joy to be around. The toxins are now out and I feel very, well, clean. Our fair, sensitive Jessica, however, is legitimately ill and didn't even invite it as I did. She has Giardia, not to be confused with the amoebas that she had a few weeks ago (and may still have), which is a hearty, hard-shelled parasite that is forming an army in her digestive system as we speak. It doesn't take excellent hearing to sense that something is amiss as her stomach sounds like the belly of a ship during a tempestuous crossing of the Atlantic. This most recent development has caused me to pull a mom move. I am not the best at channeling my maternal instincts, but I suppose that when I do, they come full force. We are flying to Germany in less than a week.

Ah the joys of living without plans and commitments...I was sitting at the computer with the task of buying our plane tickets to fly to Germany at the beginning of September and started to think that the next few weeks might be spent in a bathroom instead of on a camel or motorbike as planned. With this very sudden change of plans, lifestyle, and mentality, we will be arriving in Frankfurt with the mission of buying a cheap, used car and embarking on an epic road trip alllll over Europe in what is surreally the final leg of THIS around the world adventure.
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We had a baby!!!

2009-07-17T02:26:00.000-07:00

Don't worry mom, that was just an analogy. An analogy that we feel is appropriate given the fact that we have been traveling for 9 months and 3 days. And, it strikes Laura and I that there are some eerie similarities between our 9 months of travel, and the things a woman experiences when letting a baby live inside her. I am told that the first trimester can be the hardest, and it is fair to say that the first few months of our trip were the most difficult mentally and physically. Looking back we really had no idea what we were doing, and that showed. But as time passed, we got more comfortable with traveling, and the major morning sickness feelings passed only to be replaced by little kicks every once in awhile. While those kicks were sometimes uncomfortable, they were also reminders of how special traveling is, and how something like this trip sometimes has a mind of its own. Finally, the last push to the 9 month mark was challenging in a very physical way as both Laura and I found ourselves as sick as 2 girls our age can be, but now, a few days past major sickness symptoms, we are feeling rather proud of ourselves. And we have this incredible trip, that is still far from finished, but at this point we realize that it has become a life all on its own, that often we cannot control. We are just happy to be along for the ride. Please send flowers and stuffed animals to 600 stairs north of Baghsu.

Other thoughts, and emails from concerned friends and family, have lead me to realize that according to the last few blogs, my personal India experience has been nothing but guns and squat toilets. Hence I will now list, for your reading pleasure, 10 wonderful things that have happened to me in India that do not involve train jail cells, men harassing me, or anything you can read about on webMD.

Ahem ...

1. I met the nicest boy and his little sister in Varanasi. He was maybe 12 years old, and just was the cutest. He wanted to talk about everything American, was more than happy to explain the mysteries of cricket to me, and I watched his eyes grow as big as mangoes when I told him I lived near Hollywood.

2. Mangoes - mangoes here are the most delicious!!! We eat as many as possible, and I am always the most satisfied after a meal if I am washing the sticky sweetness of a huge mango off my hands.

3. I watch Laura's headstand improve everyday. This is sometimes comical, but mostly awesome.

4. I had to take a moment to really just STARE at the Taj Mahal. It was that beautiful.

5. We have made some great expat friends, all who have shown Laura and I the ropes. People who do not hesitate to share their homes, or their chappati, or their knowledge of the local bus system.

6. I learned to make Indian food! I am now the proud chef of paneer butter masala (as healthy as it sounds, btw ... That is sarcasm for those who can't pick up on my dry humor on the interweb) as well as Dal Fry, hands down one of my favorite Indian dishes.

7. I have been initiated into the great tradition of Indian crystals and jewelry, thanks to a friend who was shopping wholesale for things to sell when she returned home. I spent hours picking out the most beautiful things, and though I am the skeptic sometimes, I really did feel the energy when I held the funny Merlin-esque crystal magic wand in my hand.

8. Once, after the most frusturating day ever in Chandigarh, and before a sleepless nightbus ride, a very nice middle aged Indian woman struck up conversation with me because she could see that "my face needed a friend." This encounter literally warmed my soul, especially since women are encouraged to be seen as rarely as possible and not heard at all when in public places in India.

9. Because of the climate in southern India, avocados are relatively plentiful in the area where Laura and I are currently. For a girl who grew up with an avocado tree in her backyard, this is a very, VERY good thing.

10. Who remembers the ridiculous white pants that Laura and I had to buy for the 4 day meditation in Chiang Mai, Thailand? Well, they have been put to good use in yoga class, and we do so much yoga, it is fabulous.

How's that for a good time? Xoxo
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Quintessentially India

2009-07-11T05:53:00.000-07:00

Ah India, a complex and diverse land...a place where Giardia, Gurus, and Gandhi are all terms commonly thrown around in our conversations these days. We are 10 days into our yoga teacher training course and I suppose we are checking a lot of the 'to-dos' of India off the list - we sit around with our old German neighbor, Deiter, who hitchhiked TO India in 1969 and has more or less been here since, and are educated on such topics as the CIA's successful plotting to assassinate Indira Gandhi (note to government agents: plots by the CIA to kill Indians is a popular theme on this mountain, so beware) and the Bavarian Illuminati's current and past control of society as we know it.

Something else that has punctuated our time here thus far is the confirmation that we have amoebas living in our tumtums - to be in India for three months especially during the monsoon season and hope not to get sick would just be foolhardy so in a way we are feeling like it is a badge of merit. Perhaps this is my opinion as such because I, unlike the lady I share a room with, did not spend multiple days more or less sleeping in a squat toilet outhouse. I recently read that a person should not make her life an open book, so suffice it to say that Jess' symptoms ranged from those of Giardia to Dysentry over the past few days and webMD can provide further elaboration.

While Jess was slimming down, I was taking steps towards spiritual enlightenment, or so I'm told. Our yoga instructor, Shivam, invited a group of us to come celebrate 'Guru purnuma' at his guru's ashram - it is a yearly celebration in India during which devotees visit their gurus and give thanks. As the full moon auspiciously rose in the sky we made our way through a small town of terraced farms. We reached the ashram with our hands filled with Indian sweets and flowers as a gift and were met with a surprisingly casual scene. We walked into a room where a few people were sitting on the floor chatting with a very tall, very thin bearded man cloaked in orange robes and with a pile of dreadlocks wrapped on the top of his head. I understand the inherent skepticism that some may feel when they hear the term 'guru' - new wave cults and quack financial advisors. In Hindi, 'gu' means dark and 'ru' light so a guru is anyone who turns darkness into light for you through his teachings (I think it also helps to be able to sit in double lotus pose - Jess says that if my hips get a little looser and I can get into that position, she will name me her guru. The only setback with this might be the whole discrimination of women as impure and lesser beings detail...). Regardless, this man had the kindest eyes and warmest demeanor so I can see how people would be drawn to him. We spent the night listening to his followers sing devotional music with the accompaniment of a harmonium, drums, and bells and being mildly embarrassed by Shivam who has this habit of flailing his body and head around while singing out of tune during meditation. We slept on the roof of the meditation hall and were woken up early by chanting so I made my way to a grassy knoll to read a book while waiting for whatever it was that was going to happen to unfold. The guru walked over to me and asked what I was reading - I told him it is about the Yoga Sutra and he was delighted to hear that I practice yoga and says he does also. He then asks me if I understand everything about yoga and I say certainly not and ask him if he had any advice for me to improve my meditation. He replies that he will think about it and tell me when it is quieter. Later when more and more of his devotees are coming to give him and us some not so delicious buttery sweets that we are unable to refuse, he points to me while speaking to Shivam in Hindi and beckons me to his side to ask my question again. As you may imagine, the already inclined to staring Indians are really taking in this white girl and her interactions with guruji. While kneeling next to him, he orders Shivam to do something and I am told to follow. I am ordered to stand next to the puja, a religious firepit, and throw ashes into the flame five times while repeating the chant of a group of religious men in robes that have surrounded me and then genuflect with my hands in namaste (prayer) at the base of the altar. Yes, a little strange and idol worship-y, I then returned to the side of the guru and was told to place the red vermillion paste on his toe and third eye while he gave me a blessing. This was all a mystery to me until Shivam very excitedly explained it all to me afterwards. He said that it was a big deal that guruji would actually answer my question, not just let me ask it, and this was because the guru and Shivam both sensed that my energy was 'pure' and 'joyful' (you may recall the conch shell lady in Varanasi saying Jess was the one with the good aura and I was too much of a thinker, but different strokes for different folks/spiritual guides I suppose). Moral of the story, the mantra I chanted is now my 'guru mantra' as it was given to me by one and I should use that in my practice.

Once returned from the ashram, I was met by a very pale, pitiful Jessica and must have been overcome with sympathy pains as we both walked down the mountain early the next morning to make our way to the hospital. I'm not quite sure one could say she has really lived if she hasn't walked down hundreds of stone steps in the early dawn hours with a stool sample in a used coffee can/gherkins jar to a medical clinic overseen by His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama.

In between feeling exhausted and trying to improve our health through a combination of antibiotics, raw garlic, grapefruit seed extract, black salt water, and aloe vera juice (one or a combination of which may possibly be making us manic as we spend hours in fits of uncontrollable, idiotic laughter which is balanced by short bursts of intense agitation - any thoughts medical personnel?), we have enjoyed not planning our next move, practicing a whole lot of yoga, and getting to know those around us. One of our favorites is Sunil, our resident Sanskrit scholar, who is teaching us Vedic mantras as part of our training. He has minimal confidence in his English, but it is easy enough to figure him out through his impassioned singing and his expressive moves as he has been joining us in class. Yesterday he convinced Muriel, a woman in our course, to be tied up with the straps we use in class so that he could put the straps in his mouth and lift her body with his teeth alone. A most interesting mating technique.

An odd note to end on, yes, but the thick fog encompassing the mountain right now that makes us feel like we are on a platform detached from Earth is having a similar affect on my mind.
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The way the Himalayas makes me feel! (they knock me off my feet!)

2009-06-30T06:08:00.000-07:00

If you read the previous blogpost written by my fair companion, you will know that Laura and I had experienced a bit of bad luck. At least, I think that's what it's called when a man who assumes you are a fare dodger holds you at gunpoint and then eats half of your candy bar as a bribe to release you from the drunk tank ... I digress. Anyways, suffice it to say Laura and I had a break coming to us and thank the stars in the sky, I believe we caught one. As the attached pictures show, we are in one of the most beautiful places on earth, and we are wonderfully happy about it.

I write to you from approximately 600 stairs north of a town high in the Himalayas called Baghsu. Yes, we do have to climb up and down 600 stairs every day, sometimes multiple times a day. And yes, it is worth it. The peaceful view, the mountain energy, the fact that our booties will eventually look better than JLo's, the incredible people we have met who are as crazy as us to make the same hike everyday, everything is great from way up here. Anyone who knows even a little bit about me will not be shocked by the next statement - Laura and I are spending the next month in this exact spot, training to become yoga teachers. It's official, Jessica will indeed take the final yoga plunge and jump to the teaching side, and I cannot think of a better place to do it. Yesterday, we had a preliminary class with our teacher Shivam. He is everything you might expect from a yoga teacher in India - he wears long, flowly, white clothing, and inexplicably starts asking us existential questions about water in the desert in the middle of meditation. I think that he will be great. The next bit is mostly for our mothers who are interested in the daily schedule - we will train Monday through the morning on Saturday for 4 weeks. We wake at 7AM for a hour long meditation followed by 2 hours of asana practice, followed by a lecture on such subjects as sanskrit and mudras and vedas and anatomy and other such subjects. After a lunch break we start again at 3PM with 2 more hours of asana practice, and at 5 have a final hour long meditation. Whew, if that doesn't satisfy our need for yoga, nothing will. It will be hard, and I am sure the coming weeks will be filled with blog posts of various energy levels, but for now we are both happy and excited.

And, this morning, Laura and I unpacked the packs for the first time in 8 plus months. What a strange feeling. What a GREAT feeling. I think committing a month to this beautiful place will be well worth it, and is probably exactly what we subconsciously need after moving around so much.

That's the big news from here. We hope everyone at home is well and listening to MJ on repeat.

Love love love and sunshine!
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It was just too easy...

2009-06-27T10:55:00.000-07:00

Very soon after Jessica's latest post, a series of mishaps coupled with being in the wrong (or sometimes right) place at the wrong time led to the first time in a very long while that our traveling could be classified as 'difficult.' As the events I am about to retell are actually not so harrowing, I suppose this is more of a testament to what good travelers we have become and how often that fact intersects with great fortune and wonderful people/opportunities.
While on our way to the train station in Delhi we were remarking what a pleasant time we had - filled with rest, cooking, and clean laundry. This was made even more pleasant by the fact that Delhi seems to be the last place any backpacker wants to be when in India, with its notorious scams, pooping in the streets, and extreme heat. Indeed, we had had it too easy. Our rickshaw wallah dropped us off at the wrong train station which forced us to get into yet another rickshaw with a man whose business practices Jessica disapproved of so much that her only words for him were, 'no, I do not want to go with you, we don't like you!' Alas, sometimes you are desperate and need to catch the last train out of town and he did get us to the train station on time, so good on him. As a preface to this scene there isn't much to say to quell the nerves of the mothers, but I will say two things: 1) the train system is insane in India, but not in the way that my brother's friend Brian thinks ('I hear people just disappear on those trains and are never heard of again...'), instead we have found the train system to be rather orderly and secure. This does not, however, outweigh the fact that there are over 1 billion souls in this nation and everyone is on a family summer holiday. The trains are also full so missing a train is an undesirable situation as it is not guaranteed that you will be on the next train to your destination. In other words, missing our train was not an option.
2) I promised myself a long time ago that I would never run with a backpack on. Any of my friends from college can attest to my disapproval of our fellow students who had their priorities so maligned as to run to a class not to miss the first 5 minutes and to sacrifice their pride, the cleaniness of their clothes, and the increased risk of stress related diseases.
So there we are, it is 1022 PM, the train is scheduled for 1020, and for the first time, a train is pulling out of the station on time - perhaps since independence in 1947. We ran, oh did we run (or perhaps waddle) with our backpacks, some mangos, and a bar of chocolate after the moving train. Jessica and I have been accused of being eerily similar people -- one difference is the cause of the ensuing scene. Jessica is a more cautious person than I am, therefore, she ended up in the drunk tank and I didn't.
As the train pulled away I took a few long strides, stuck out my arms, and clung to the handrails while imploring the men standing at the door to pull me in. My last sight of Jess was her standing on the platform, arms at her side, palms raised in a gesture of utter disbelief and panic/weighing her options. That was Monday night, I haven't seen her since...

Just kidding! But it did get pretty bleak there for a moment. I found myself in a general seating car and thus had to make my way up to our slightly nicer sleeper car that was of course on the other end of the train. General seating carts, especially on overnight trains, speaking generally (ha) is filled with people who are pretty hard up for cash - this means that they do not see white solo women that often in the flesh or have no qualms about acting as though they haven't. Have we mentioned the staring in India? It is unabashed which, to me, is better than trying to hide it, but it means that we feel like we are in the zoo. Slowly I made my way through the train and finally reach our car when Jessica bursts into the door babbling and hurling herself on me. After a moment, she coherently recounts her travails of the last hour. As the few cars behind the one I leaped onto were filled with people, she had no choice but to jump onto the last one. As the adrenaline of jumping onto a train gaining speed is not enough for a girl who has 1 and a half functioning legs, she is met by a man with a gun, a gun pointed at her, the fare dodger. Jess had found herself in the police car that is used to 1) keep fare dodgers like herself off the trains 2) lock up the drunks and other unruly folks wreaking havoc on the train. Quite clearly our Jessica represents one if not both of these characteristics, so it is only understandable that the officer(after lighting up a dooby) locked her up in the drunk cell before letting her explain her story. I am told he considered letting her go to her seat not after seeing her ticket, but only after she surrendered half of our candy bar to him. After our stories were told and our blessings counted, we fell asleep to wake up in Haridwar, yet another holy city on the Ganges. The city, to our sleepy eyes, was filled with pushy Indian grandma-pilgrim types and a lot of poo so we decided to return to our friend, public transportation, and take the hour long bus to Rishikesh where Jess once again used her line about not liking a person as a reason for not getting into his rickshaw, fair enough. After said unlikable rickshaw wallah dropped us off at the wrong point, we had to walk through yet more crowds of pushy grandmas on pilgrimage before reaching our much anticipated destination.
As many practitioners of yoga know, Rishikesh is the self-proclaimed yoga capital of the world so we were anxious to reach a place we were hoping to spend quite a bit of time. Turns out the world's center of yoga has an off season. Frankly our patience was a bit low as this was the second city in a row that was underwhelming. Once again, this is a testament to the breadth of incredible places we have been over the past 8 months. In an effort to be pro-active, we started to research other cities that offered many yoga opportunities this time of year and settled on going to Dharamsala earlier than expected, but would first stop in Chandigarh for a few days. Chandigarh had been described to us as the Canberra of India. To make that allusion clear, Canberra is the capital of Australia - a wealthy, well-planned city that is also totally devoid of culture or anything else of interest. With this image in mind, we decided to still give Chandigarh a chance as it was not only on our way, but had various 'points of interest' most notably the government sector which was designed by Le Corbusier - one of the gods of modern architecture that I had studied in depth at university.
Something was off in Chandigarh from the start. It is a new city that was designed in such an ultra-modern way as to set the tone for a 'new India' - after having just received independence, there was a desire to show that it could keep up with the first world, but that just isn't India. Chandigarh had everything that frustrates us about India while lacking all of that which makes India such a singular, great place. Frustrations included the black hole where cheap accomodation should be, the cryptic, elusive way in which we had to get a bus out of the place while being told that it was impossible, everybody's inability to tell us where Le Corbusier's buildings were, and the bureaucracy(and military barricades) that finally made it impossible for us to see the buildings. The upside of Chandigarh being a bit of a ghost town is that we were able to scramble onto the top of a roof parking lot to catch a glimpse of some of the buildings before being politely shooed away by some military personnel. Let's just say that the most pleasant time spent in Chandigarh was the hours spent waiting for the bus we were told wouldn't come. Alas, the bus did come and we arrived early this morning in Dharamsala, a town in the foothills of the Himalayas that is home to the Dalai Lama in exile along with many Tibetan refugees. The scenery is beautiful, the feeling calm, and the weather pleasant as opposed to the oppressive heat that has characterized our first few weeks here. Along with all of these positive attributes, yoga opportunities abound and we are in the midst of figuring out if we want to participate in a month long yoga teacher training program taught high up in the mountains by a man in flowing white clothing. Things are certainly looking up for us and we are heartened by the prospect of lots of yoga, trekking, and the absence of long-distance transportation for the foreseeable future.

And since you were wondering, yes, the headline of all the newspapers here, both English and Hindi, read 'The King of Pop is Dead.'
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Making our way North

2009-06-22T01:21:00.000-07:00

Well, we can check a few major tourist sights off our list after spending the past few days traveling through Agra (oh so briefly) to Delhi. A few days ago, Laura and I saw the Taj Mahal, and let me tell you that no matter how many pictures you see of that thing, there is nothing like actually standing in front of it. It is the definition of a surreal feeling. Almost an out of body experience to be actually looking at something that you can recall an image of in your mind so easily. As you can all imagine it really is that huge and white and ornate. I know I am a cynic when it comes to this stuff, but I wasn't really blown away by any romantic feelings that apparently some people get caught up in when wandering through the ornate gardens and gazing at the huge central dome. I mean, if some guy built ME a huge white gravestone after I died giving birth TO HIS 14TH CHILD, I would not be in such a romantic mood. Seems more like the guy was feeling a wee bit of guilt to me ... But again I'm a cynic. We spent less than 12 hours in Agra because everyone told us that, aside from the Taj Mahal, not much else is going on. Plus, it makes no financial sense to spend more than one day looking at the Taj, because it is ridiculously expensive to get in for foreigners. Everything in India has 2 prices - one for Indian nationals and one for foreigners. The mark-up for foreigners is extreme. If I could only convince someone that my fair skinned, 6 foot plus self was an Indian national, then I would only have to pay 10 rupees to see the Taj Mahal. To give everyone in the States a sense of what that means, 10 rupees equals about 5 US cents. Instead, Fox and I must pay 750 rupees each, about 16 ish dollars! No fair!!! Oh well, now I know how everyone who is not from California feels when they get to the gates at Disneyland. But I must say that even though we paid 75 times more than the obnoxious group of men who would not stop taking pictures of us, (is that correct? My math is on very shaky grounds these days) the Taj Mahal was indeed breathtaking.
While on the subject of men in
India, let me note that though we are always safe and not in any danger at all (I promise mom) the way we are treated in this country, because we are women, is out of control. I noticed the other day that when we are walking around, I actually keep my head tilted toward the ground and keep my gaze on my feet. If I do look up to check out a cool modern Delhi flat, or to make sure a crazy rickshaw wallah isn't gunning straight for me, I am extremely careful not to meet anyone's eye. I have learned in the past 2 weeks that any kind of eye contact between myself and a man, no matter how incidental, is an open invitation for that man to either catcall and make a huge ridiculous scene, or to start following me and ask me questions that inevitably lead to some proposal of marriage. Neither situation particularly thrills me. A friend, Wes, who lives here in Delhi was explaining that the men literally can't help reacting that way, because of the huge disparity of women in the country. Open any newspaper here in Delhi, and you will easily find some horror story about a newly wed Indian woman being beaten and in some cases killed by her new husband's family because her dowry was too small. India is a country where female infanticide is a huge issue, because female children become quite expensive for a family once they are at the marrying age. Someone clearly wasn't thinking ahead however, because female infanticide has led to a shortage of about 50 million women across India. Hence the marriage proposals and catcalls Laura recieves even when she is wearing a moomoo and sweating profusely and has a streak of dirt across her forehead.
Being back in a big city, Delhi, for the past few days has been lovely. We went to an "excellently curated" modern art museum a few days ago (Laura took a class on curation once). The highlight however was going to a hindu temple complex that operates more like a theme park. There was a boat ride a la the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland (mentioned twice in this blog!) that had the ambitious task of covering "10,000 years of India's history in 10 minutes!" Yikes. Highlights also include an epic movie shown on an imax-like screen about a boy who left home at age 7 to find enlightenment. Advertisements for that proclaimed that the cast had over 45,000 people!!! Almost nothing in India is small.
Tonight we are taking the overnight train to Haridwar. There is an extreme amount of yoga in my future which I am really excited about. We also have some good leads on NGOs with whom we hope to volunteer with in a few weeks time. Love and baci to everyone at home.

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Hmm...

2009-06-17T00:10:00.000-07:00

Where could we BE? At this VERY MOMENT?
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There are buffalo stampeding in the streets and dead bodies burning all the time...

2009-06-16T11:05:00.000-07:00

...and it's just another day in Varanasi. As I write, we are on yet another train adventure through India where feeling like a celebrity when all eyes are unabashedly on you, proposing marriage, and kids pooing on the rails are all commonplace. Tomorrow morning will bring us to Agra and the Taj Mahal - yet another world monument that will surely amaze us on this journey of ours. Not that what we have done and seen in India thus far hasn't proved to astonish - after leaving Kolkata on a most memorable 20 hour train ride in which I received first said marriage proposal (I admit this was my fault - I was reading the matrimonial section of the newspaper in plain sight of all of our fellow passengers. Just because I was curious about what a tall, charming, well-educated, Sikh man from Punjab without any issues(children) wanted in a wife didn't mean I wanted to be that wife. I digress...) and we made friends with the nice Indians around us while getting schooled in the ways of train etiquette/survival. This 20 hour train ride led us to Gaya and eventually Bodhgaya - the home of the Bodhi Tree, under which Buddha achieved enlightenment. We had been out of Southeast Asia for less than a week at that point yet seeing orange robed Buddhist monks already gave us a twinge of nostalgia. The town is totally devoted to the tree, surrounding temple complex, and scattered monasteries sponsored by various Buddhist nations to accomodate their pilgrims. This was most interesting as the vast majority of visitors were Hindu Indians, dirty backpackers, and a smattering of Western 'spiritualists' who thought they were holding a sacred commune with aliens with the help of the Buddha, etc, etc. Needless to say, it was an eclectic crowd -- two days well spent under the Bodhi Tree and getting a taste for a small, rural Indian town.

After not quite meeting our goal of also achieving enlightenment, we moved onto Varanasi where we spent an entire week - nearly a record for us. Varanasi is without comparison. When I thought of India I now realize I thought of this city. It is claimed to be the oldest continually inhabited city in the world, it is the city of Shiva (one of the most impertant Hindu gods) and is located on the Ganges River - this combination makes for a city with thousands of temples and a continual stream of pilgrims bathing in the river/raw sewage. It is belived that if a person dies and is cremated on the banks of the river, he will bypass reincarnation and attain union with the divine. For us, the sight of dead bodies and family members preparing for the funeral rites is not only somber but a bit eery, whereas for the people going through it, we were told it is a joyous occasion because the family knows that the deceased is being liberated. Regardless, a dead body wrapped in white cloth and covered in flowers and smoke is a stirring sight to behold. While in Varanasi we walked along the ghats - steps that lead from temples to the river - where our senses were endlessly engaged. The feeling of the paralyzing heat. The sight of the wandering holy men and brightly clad women making their pilgrimage to bathe in the holy waters. The sulfuric scent of those holy waters. The unending sound of boatmen luring us for a sunrise boat ride. And the taste...I think it is a good thing that I cannot associate a taste with this experience!

Aside from its historical and spiritual aspects, one of the greatest parts of being in Varanasi was meeting Nandan, the founder of an NGO that works to bring sexual health, mainly AIDS, education to high school aged children in a country where the discussion of sex is taboo and the number of AIDS cases has recently outpaced that of Africa (really!). We met him as we were interested in volunteering some time to his cause and in the process were welcomed into his home, provided with great conversation, and invited to a girls summer camp 'graduation' where we were made guests of honor. The summer camp was a program for local girls in a small village outside of the city that taught them some basic skills in handicrafts (okay) and computers (really good!) that would enable them to become financially independent. The girls performed dances for us and gave us paintings, jewelry, and candles they had made - a very touching and insightful experience that we were fortunate to be a part of.

Slightly related to the ever-popular discussion of the role of women in society is the conduct of Indian men. One can never make blanket statements about a group of people, but it seems that the men of India have made a reputation for themselves - they stare a bit more than makes us comfortable and seem to have a rather strong fascination with foreign women. As per usual, we make our mothers proud with our prudent choices coupled with our alibis regarding husbands working in Delhi. Our responsible behavior led us to do the safest thing possible for Saturday night entertainment - a night at the mall! Malls are the same all over the world. There might be a cow lying in the street with charcoal around its eyes to protect it from the evil eye, but there will definitely be frozen yogurt and teeny boopers - without a doubt. Our objective in going to the mall was to see a movie and the movie we saw for a cool 100 rupees each (2 dolla) honestly delivered in everyway a movie could - singing, dancing, a love story, psychic abilities, dismantling bombs, matrix-like fighting, dream sequences in familiar New Zealand scenery - all the pageantry I am just learning to expect from Bollywood. Yes, it was in Hindi, but I think I can still vouch for it being a work of cinematic excellence even though we were consistently laughing apart from the rest of the audience.

Today we spent our last day in Varanasi at a yoga class which seemed rather appropriate seeing as Shiva created both yoga and this city. The class was Jess, me, and the teacher aka Jess's biggest fan. We began with some standard sun salutation series and various other poses when the yogi abruptly decides that we can do those poses when we are in the States and instead we would work on some breathing techniques to help align our chakras, improve our practice, and eventually unite us with the greater consciousness of the universe. All right, sounds like a plan. Then she demonstrates 'fire breathing' for us in which her belly moves in and out like the graphing of a soundwave and her breath sounds like an old radiator heating up. I almost fainted from all the breathing. Maybe that was what took me off of the spiritual plane or instead perhaps the blowing of the conch-shell-made-of-my-hands action. Fast forward to the end of class: the teacher is telling Jess she possesses a lot of white light around her and the placement of Jupiter means that spirituality is very integral in her life whereas the moon is strong for me which indicates that I am an intellectual who thinks too much and for whom money will never be a problem. I may not be on my way to nirvana, but at least I have money in the bank (astrologically speaking).
The images shown below (hopefully) are of a sadhu, holy men who wander between holy Hindu sites; young girls dancing at their summer camp party taken from our perspective as the guests of honor on stage; the gifts we received from the girls; and Jess being assisted by some kindly cobblers in the repair of yet another bag.
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INDIA - a family affair

2009-06-06T00:00:00.000-07:00

It took me less than 24 hours to fall in love with India. As I was being pushed and shoved off our first bus ride through the center city of Kolkata (formerly Calcutta), I turned to Laura and announced that I was seriously considering permanent residence. The bus ride was a test of balance and trying to control the flow of sweat down your face. We had to hop on the bus as it was steadily pulling away from the curb, because no bus ever actually fully stops. Like the buses in Peru, men hang out the doors of the bus and yell out destinations and routes and it is your job to hear your destination, and then take a semi-flying leap onto the moving vehicle. Our first bus ride was packed, and Laura almost fell over due to a lack of anything to hold on to as the bus lurched forward, but we made it to Northern Kolkata in one piece. It may have been this bus ride through the city that solidified my intense feelings for the country in such a short time. Call me crazy, but there is something magical about being here, and I am not the first visitor to India to pick up on the energy and vibrancy that this country and its people exude at every turn, no matter how bumpy and unstable that turn may be.
Only 5 days ago, in the wee hours of a beautiful Bangkok morning, Laura and I left our friend's house in Bangkok (thanks again Meg!) and went to the airport to catch our plane to India. Our last day in Thailand was well spent -- our last dinner was actually the SPICIEST curry I have ever eaten EVER, and though my lips were painfully tingling for the rest of the night, it was well worth it. I was also strangely exhausted on our last day, and I was thinking about a friend and fellow traveler who says that she always gets exhausted before big transitions in her trips. I think I was feeling the same way. I felt like a little girl who was soo excited to go to Disneyland the next day, that she stays up thinking about it all night, and the next morning is a tired mess and loses it while waiting in line for Space Mountain. That was me in the Bangkok airport. Over stimulated. But the flight was wonderful and a painless 2 hours and I was ready for whatever India has to bring as the descent was announced. Immediately, the plane's descent alerted me to a totally new atmosphere. Everywhere you go in India, there are tons of people. Makes NYC look a little deserted at times. In a break fron SE Asia, it is mostly the men running around on the streets because the women are expected to stay at home, and there are people filling every nook and cranny of every concieveable place. Hanging out windows, down alley ways, waiting on curbs, simply everywhere. This was plainly evident as we got closer to the runway and from the plane all you could see through the dusty orange haze was house upon house with numerous apartment buildings thrown in for good measure, all set about, to my eyes at least, in the most haphazard way possible.
Our first challenge was to get from the airport to the apartment of a friend living here in Kolkata - Elena. I called her cellphone and she tells me she just started a new job and could we wait at her in-laws house for a bit? Sure, no problem. New address in hand we deal with the taxi drivers who stampeded toward us the moment we showed our backpack adorned bodies out in the sunlight and thick blanket heat of the pick-up area. The drive to the address takes over an hour. I realized the best way to avoid gasping every time I thought we were going to be hit by a bus, or alternatively, hit a bus ourselves, was to close my eyes and try to practice some of the calming meditation that our monk friends in Thailand imparted to us. The combination of little kid pre-Disneyland like exhaustion and the thick heat was too strong for my Buddhist monk training and I fell asleep to be awoken by Laura when we arrived. At this point, I honestly had no idea what to expect. I certainly was not expecting was conversation and a luxurious lunch with Elena and her mother-in-law in their beautiful flat in center Kolkata, but that is what we got. Flo and I are actually the luckiest girls sometimes. After lunch, which was traditional Bengali food (minus the fish!), we were taken back to Elena'a apartment by a personal driver and spent the rest of the afternoon in a delicious food coma nap, a luxury we are not privy to on this trip. Elena mentions that she works for an NGO and has been involved with families who live in slums, and that she has arranged for an important medical operation to take place the following day on a little girl she met while in the streets one day. The girl had been terribly burned by a pot of boiling milk, and the scar tissue had caused her arms to fuse to the sides of her body. Elena knows some doctors in the city, and arranged for the girl to have surgery to free her arms virtually free of charge.
So the next day, Fox and I set off to explore the city while Elena went to the hospital. Laura and I walked around the city for hours, and spent many of those hours lost. After that first bus ride already described, we walked thorugh a market dedicated entirely to selling devotional flowers. People, again, were in every place possible. Men kept pushing by me with huge heavy packs balanced on their heads. Women were crouched by their orange and white and pink and yellow flowers, inviting customers in with smiles. As you may imagine, L and I do not necessarily blend into this scene so seamlessly, but we endure our first bout of stares and "HELLO!!!" shouts as we pass. After the market, we crossed the famous Howrah bridge on foot and went back to center city. There is a big park in central Kolkata, with a famous memorial built to honor Queen Victoria. The building gives a lot of insight to the colonial history of the city, and was very interesting to see. We spent most of the day in the streets surrounding the park, trying to find the memorial. In Kolkata, even very large, ornately decorated buildings built entirely out of white marble get lost among the crush of people.
That night, we were planning to cook Elena dinner but we were pleasantly surprised when an entire family arrived home with Elena. Turns out that the surgery went very well for the little girl, but she needed recovery time, and she risked the chance of infection if she returned to her own small home in a poor area of the city. That night, the little girl and her grandmother spent the night in Elena's living room. The grandmother alternated between sleeping on the floor, and sharing a small cot with her granddaughter. The poor little girl, understandably was not in the best of moods. She was tired and missed her family and her own home. The grandmother was also, understandably, uncomfortable on the floor, and there was talks of the little girl going home. But, this would put the girl at risk for infection, and Elena simply would not have it. So the next day she opened her house to the entire family. Mom and Dad plus 7 or 8 kids and whomever else wants to drop over. She moved her own big bed out to the living room where everyone slept together. We girls squeezed onto mattresses on the floor in a seperate room, and fell asleep listening to the universal sounds of the united family in the living room. This morning, Saturday morning, was spent cooking for the children, and watching movies on the laptop. As I type, there is a massive cleaning session happening -- babies, clothes, house, floors -- there are a bunch of naked little kiddies running around every room, and I cannot think of a more appropriate way to start our India adventure.
Elena has a friend from school also visiting her, named Amu, and she has been helping Elena take care of the little girl and her family. Amu and I were discussing the family this morning, and it occured to us how hard it is to take care of a family like this, knowing that there is only so much a person can do. Inevitably, the family is going to have to return to their own way of life, in their own home in the slums of Kolkata. It is easy to become a depressed cynic in a world like that, always feeling like the world is a dark place, and there is nothing a person can do to create lasting change. As we were talking I was reminded of the Senior Monk who came to the last day of the retreat that Laura and I went on in Chiang Mai, Thailand. A man in our meditation group asked the Senior Monk if he ever got depressed thinking that the world was worsening every day, and no matter how at peace with himself the monk was, no matter how many good deeds of charity the monk accomplished, there was no way to ultimately help all the people of the world. Basically the man was challenging the monk and his existence, and I held my breath waiting for the monk to react. The Senior Monk's honest response was surprising to me because it inherently admitted to defeat, admitted that some of what the man said was true. The Senior Monk responded by saying that, of course he had low moments sometimes, and of course there is only so much a person can do to help others, but what is important is staying optimistic and keeping hope alive for a better world. I think that is what Laura and I have been witnessing our first few days here in Kolkata. A few people doing their best to help those around them. In Elena's own words, "It is what I do," helping those around her. It is what we all should be doing, every day. It is what Laura and I are trying to do over the next few months we are in this very special place.
Tonight we leave Kolkata for Bodhgaya on an overnight train. After a few days exploring there, we head to Varanasi where if it works out, we plan to spend a long while volunteering and working with the community there. All is well and we miss everyone at home so so SO much.

Love, Jca

ps. for marcus, im still keeping count - me 221.5, world 14.5 - aka we win at life.

ends days by katy

2009-06-05T12:19:00.000-07:00

hi hi hi,

as i write this, i'd like to disclaim that i am a little foggy headed from jet lag. this jet lag is a result of an international flight, and yes, i am back in the united states. i have spent the last three weeks running around europe, eatings as much cheese as possible, recovering from some egyptian stomach ills, trying to speak spanish in spain, seeing marcus in france (dont worry caimi family, he is doing GREAT), and drinking warms pints in the uk. europe was awesome! three weeks was quick, but enough time to realize that there is and always will be somehting special and magical about europe. i think i am too jet laggy to keepy writing, and i didnt take so many pictures, but i want to post just to say i am home, i am safe, and i am feeling all sorts of funny. i need some time to decompress, get my bearings, and begin to process the last few months. i am in pennsylvania right now and will be around the east coast for two or so months. so, technically, i am still traveling, still living out of the backpack, and i'm sure the united states will be an adventure after having been gone for so long. initial opinion: its almost like being IN tv show about the us. all i've done is go to a diner, but let me tell you... woweezowee, its a diner in the us! i forgot what it was like. endings are new beginings, eh? here is the link to some pictues of europe:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2024619&id=33500228&l=8385b3066a

love y'all, and be in touch on my CELLPHONE if you want.
xoxoxox katy jane

72 hour vow of silence complete! *

2009-05-29T01:32:00.000-07:00

If I told you that I had a catchy jingle called "staaanding staaanding staaanding intending to turn" in my head -- could you guess where we have been for the past 4 days? If you're thinking a Buddhist monk led meditation retreat, you would be on the right path (but not necessarily the 8-fold path). The overnight retreat was recommended to us, but being the "jumping in head first" people that we are, we chose to commit to the 3 night option. Needless to say, we didn't know what we were getting into -- I honestly didn't think you could meditate for 12 hours a day, nor did Jess think that taking a vow of silence meant that we couldn't talk. As you may imagine, the group of people who find themselves in Chiang Mai, Thailand and THEN choose to go on a 4 day retreat are a rather eclectic crowd. Jess and I are professional speculators, but with a vow of silence in the way, we were left to ponder our new theories alone. We both agreed, however, that a stand out moment was when Michael, the overweight, middle-aged German man's white pants (we had to wear all white) fell to the FLOOR ever so slowly as he tried to clear his plate from dinner. Clearly the passive Buddhist thing to do was to stare at the table, breathe in deeeeply, exhale slooowwly, and try not to laugh.
I am now realizing that most of what I would say in this post would only be funny to Jess and myself so 1) please accept that if it doesn't make sense to you, it does to us 2) I will give a little rundown of what we did: A gong woke us up at 5 am, we started chanting at 5 30 am, ended chanting at 9 pm and went to bed shortly there after. The day was filled with meditation, no surprise there, which varied from sitting, walking, and lying down meditation. Whenever we were left to choose our own type of meditation, I consistenly chose to lie down in the back of the room and maybe take a nap. The meditating was punctuated by mini lectures by our leaders, meals, and yoga which was taught by our very own Jessica (the * in the title is used to denote that Jess had to break her silence in order to teach the yoga class --we'll let it slide). A priceless scene was having all of us on one side of the hall in warrior one and then seeing the monks waaay on the other side following along in their orange robes -- one of Jess' talents is adjusting your body while in a pose, but the monks were not privy to this due to the potential enjoyment that would result from a woman's touch and thus lead them away from the path of righteousness, too bad as Prat #2's shoulders were up all near his ears. Due to the said vow of silence, the lectures we received from the monks were a bit one-sided. When Prat # 1 was talking about the difference between being a proper Buddhist and being one just out of tradition, the combination of lacking confidence in his English and a non-responsive audience led him to tell a "joke" about joss sticks, praying for health, and lung cancer due to too many lit joss sticks. I could continue, but I have an inclination that our experience is not translating to this medium so well. Suffice it to say that the past few days gave us ample thinking space to reflect on what an incredible experience we have had in southeast Asia. The temples, the food, the weather, the landscape, and most importantly the people have made this all an unforgettable experience. We now have a few days to make it down south to Bangkok, which is just enough time to eat some more delicious Thai food, see some old temples, and prepare for our next (sub)continent -- INDIA!

Thanks dad

2009-05-24T08:13:00.000-07:00

Whew. What a great 20 days. They were certainly eventful -- trekking, elephants, waterfalls, kayaks, falling out of kayaks, sprinting through rainstorms, tuk tuk rides (or, as my father called them, death tuk rides ...), all kinds of boxing events, and a TON of wats. Since there is so much to tell, and only so much internet time, I will describe for you loyal readers a singular episode that shows off some of the brains and brawn of my father, since he was so great to come and hang with Laura and me.
We were in Laos, in the capital city of Vientianne for 5 nights and after exploring the city decided to get out into nature a bit (apparently, Laura and I are into that now) and take a kayaking trip on the river. After shopping around for a bit, we settled with a full day trip sold to us by a woman who we deemed simply "the crazy lady." If any of you are in Vientianne in the future, I am sure you will be able to recognize the hyper woman who could NOT stop smiling or talking a billion unintelligible words per minute or bursting into infectious fits of laughter. I loved her. Whatever she was on, I wanted some. She sold us a trip in kayaks down the Nam Lik river, complete with lunch at an "eco village" and transfer to and from the city both ways.
So, we received an early morning wake up call and found ourselves at the local bus station minutes later. We were all expecting some sort of bus or mini bus for our transfer to the river, so we were a bit surprised when we were piled into a sawngthaew, which is a pick up truck with two benches facing eachother in the bed of the truck. No big deal. We had plenty of room because the only other thing in the truck initially was bags and bags of spring onions. Based on previous experiences with public transportation, I expected the truck to fill up slowly, but neglected to inform my father -- who has the same long leg problem I have, but also the additional pain of not being able to sit up straight in the truck because he is too tall. 3 smelly hours later, we arrived at our destination. We had a bit of a problem locating the place we were supposed to pick up our kayaks from, but managed to figure it out. We received no guide or instructions. In fact, the only people to see is off were a group of dirty yet adorable children. The eldest waved down the river and told us to stop at the eco village. Then we realized we were only given two kayaks, each for two people, so someone was going to have to double up. Still tired from the early morning wakeup, I made a decision that would determine the rest of the afternoon. Laura would make me paddle with her, while I could simply cruise in the boat with my dad, so I gave Laura her own kayak and hopped in the front of my dads boat and we took off down river.
The beginning of the trip was pleasant and comfortable and beautiful. The jungles in Laos are stunning. Mountains and clouds and perfect light and thick foliage, complete with all kinds of jungley sounds that I can't identify but find beautiful none the less. The problems started when we neared a large rock with the word STOP written on it. Perched atop the rock were two boys, one of whom was holding a shotgun. They start gesturing us to pull over, so we follow command. We realize they are queuing kayaks over the large rapid nearby. Laura was ahead of my father and me, and watched a pair of two germans attempt the rapid unsuccessfully -- as in their kayak tipped over and they were forced to figure out a way to get back into their kayak while not drowning or getting eaten by whatever might or might not be lurking in the water. Laura is prodding me to note a key detail I had forgotten, the germans had sturdy helmets, and a guide. Two things the crazy lady did not sell us. After seeing the look of fear on Laura's face, the boy without the shotgun hops down from his perch and offers to ride the kayak through the rapids for Laura while she climbs down the rocks nearby. Laura, wise girl that she is because she graduated from high-school (hi Mr Fox!), decides to take our friend's advice and she climbs out. I assumed my dad and I would wait for the kid to get back to our kayak so he could do us the same favor, but no, my dad pushes off and starts paddling toward the rapid. I, who had limited control of the boat, shot a panicked look at Laura on shore and shouted "Laura!!! What is he doing???!!! We are going over the rapid!!! I don't want to!!!" there may have also been a few expletives thrown in there, but I'm not sure. Laura, no doubt, had the best view of the comedy that ensued ... I just asked her for details and she reports that my dad was yelling "keep paddling!!!" which was almost un-hearable above my bloodcurdling screams. Then she says, and I quote, " it was a quick 1 2 3 OVER. You guys had no chance in the world. Then you disappeared from sight, and I thought I was left for dead with your digital camera and the kid with the shotgun."
So, we tipped. My dad is yelling to keep hold of my paddle, which I manage to do. We get tossed through the rest of the rapid and once we get to calmer water we pull over just in time for me to watch the kid in Laura's kayak shred through the water like he is on the discovery channel and come to my rescue. I am trying to flip the boat back over, which I am sure looks to him like I am drowning. He flips it over in one fell swoop, and holds it down while I hoist and lunge and shimmy back into position. He pushes me off to pick up my dad who floated further downstream. In my traveling partner's oh so eloquent words, 1 2 3 and I flipped AGAIN, this time floating past my dad with the boat and forcing the kid to rescue me again. He probably thought I was really great.
Don't worry, we recover from this crisis. We find Laura, get everyone back in their boats, and continue down the river. But something has definitely shifted in the Caimi boat. The balance is really hard to keep, and of course I think it is my dad's fault and he thinks it is my fault. There is name calling and fault laying much to the bemusement of Flo. I become convinced that my dad is shifting around too much because I am forced to dramatically lean to one side out of the boat every few strokes just to keep us afloat. I get frusturated and let the boat tip over. My dad and I float near some rocks on the shore and Laura continues on. We right the boat, climb in, and immediately flip. We try a different entrance technique, and immediately flip. My dad asks me to hold onto a large boulder next to me, and when I reach out my hand I see 2 spiders the size of my hand in the exact place I was about to grab. We flip again. I lost it at this point, really fully lost it. I clambered on a rock nearby, still holding onto my paddle and announce that I want my dad to continue down the river without me. I will have my paddle for protection, and he can send a boat back for me. We have been marooned for about an hour at this point, and no sign of miss Fox, so my dad dismisses my plan saying he has no idea how long it will take him to get back to me. He forces me back into the boat, and again we flip. Neither he nor I can figure it out at first -- something must be wrong with the boat. I realize that it may be filled with water, so my dad drags the boat on shore and uses his brute strength to lift the kayak, and drain the water inside out of a hole near the tip. After draining it, I re-announce my intention to brave the Lao jungles with my paddle until he can send a proper boat back for me, but again he gets me back in, and thank the stars in the sky, we stay afloat with ease. My dad tells me to paddle hard. We haven't seen the Fox for over an hour and, have no clue how much further we have to paddle.
I kid you not, 75 yards down river, around a small bend, we see the darn eco village. The whole ordeal, we were 75 yards away!!!! We could have just swam to the finish. We find Laura ensconced in semi luxury with a chain smoking french man who has clearly spent a wee bit too much time in the jungle. She claims that after we didn't show up for awhile, she asked the french man to send a boat to get us, and he refused on the basis that 85% of people flip, and he couldn't be bothered. After hearing this fact, discussion turned to whether or not the crazy lady was trying to kill us or not. The french man and his family prepared us a yummy vegetarian meal, and then it was back to the big city for us. That night in the shower, I cannot even begin to describe the pond putresence that came off of me.
So, this is just one of many adventures that we experienced while trying to keep up with my dad.

Love to everyone at home. For those who don't already know, we fly to India June 2nd!

Disclaimer: Jess, being more of a 'big picture' kind of lady, asked me to proof-read her entry. With my duty of correcting her spelling and grammatical errors fulfilled, I find it necessary to add that 1) I did attempt to paddle back and be of any assistance after waiting a solid half hour for the Caimis to mount their boat again. Alas, the current was a bit strong so my efforts were in vain and only resulted in some passing fishermen judging the girl paddling upstream with no progress.
2) when Jess says she 'lost it' in the water, I think knowing that she threw up while staying afloat with her paddle under her knees 'girl scout white water rafting education style' is an important detail.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Fw: Jess having a good day

2009-05-23T04:19:00.000-07:00

Here is my favorite traveler in her signature temple viewing outfit - after a severe toe stubbing yesterday, the white sneakers are a nice addition to the sarong-as-skirt-to-be-modest-for-the-monks look. Yes, we have entered the age of live blogging.
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Evidence that we have neither face tattoos nor are pregnant!

2009-05-19T18:34:00.000-07:00

Through great pain and effort I bring you some photos! Shocking as it may sound, internet speed is not top notch in Laos. In no way are these a full and complete view of our 2 months (!) in Southeast Asia, but it will have to do for now.

Women in their mobile markets in the Mekong Delta in Viet Nam

Bob Fox getting fitted for some shirts and providing entertainment to the coy shop girls in Hoi An

Water Buffalo and I have a special connection -- I am convinced -- look at that eye contact!

Our trusty steed and escorts for the border crossing from Viet Nam into Cambodia

Share taxi in Cambodia was two dollars less than the van...want to take a guess as to how many people are pictured above? Or even better, how many people are in the car at this moment? Whatever you think, double it. 7 and 9 respectively, cozy!

One of the temples at Angkor, no big deal.

The bridge and entry gate at the front of the capital city of the Khmer Kingdom. This is a line of gods holding a Naga (dragon) -- it is part of a larger myth called the Stirring of the Milk which included a naga, gods, demons, Shiva, and eternal youth -- the elements of any good story.

The temple of Ta Prohm -- it has been taken over by some rather big roots that have caused the stones to collapse or nearly collapse. Familiar? Tomb Raider was filmed here, and yes our guide thought that Jess was Angelina Jolie.

Nuns and Angkor Wat -- just another day in the life.

At the Buddha Park outside of Vientiane in the pouring rain. A crazy (in a good way) monk built a park filled with statues of Buddha and Hindu gods -- kind of felt like a Lao version of Coney Island.

Oldest temple in Laos -- beautiful Japanese mosaics in Luang Prabang.

Me on the neck of an elephant. Not so comfortable, not so secure.

Chanting monks

bathing the elephants aka being sprayed with the water from their trunks -- incredible although not the cleanest bath I've ever taken.

Today we are leaving Luang Prabang and Laos for Chiang Mai, Thailand. Laos has been great -- the people are wonderful, the country is beautiful, and the sense of community and religion is strong. It will be missed, but as always we are excited for our next destination!

part two: homeward bound and pictures

2009-05-13T15:25:00.001-07:00

hihi,

the dang picture uploader is not working, surprise surprise! so here are some links to some albums i made on the facebook that should work for everyone, even if we are not friends on, or you do now have, facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2023975&id=33500228&l=97753fee0c

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2024109&id=33500228&l=65553428d4

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2024110&id=33500228&l=50c9f327ee

i think there should be descriptions of the albums and also of the pictures. there should be three albums there, and a total of about 150 pics. someone please email me if they don't work and i'll see what i can do. in other news, i leave for spain tomorrow. in other OTHER news, i have a ticket back to the us. i fly from london to nyc on june 4th, 2009. WOW. it feels weird and crazy and odd and good and bad. so the end is in sight, but the adventure is not over. and won't be over, even when i hit terra firma in north america. a different adventure, one that hopefully involves the deep south and far west texas. as for now, i have three weeks to spend in europe. i hope to spend time in barcelona, madrid, paris, berlin, and london. anyone have any leads in those places? i am excited to run around europe for the next few weeks and am also excited to be heading back to the states. tomorrow marks the 7th month of our travels and they have been good good good to me. i hope you all like the pictures, and grandmas, please excuse any inappropriate comments in the albums should there be any. i'm off to pack the backpack!

ciao, israel!!

katy jane

3 blogs in ONE by: lofo, jca, and datty caimi

2009-05-13T06:46:00.000-07:00

This is an ambitious attempt on our parts, three blogs in one. We are in Vientiane, the very laid back capital of Laos, and have had a fulfilling week! First, we would like to wish the respective parties a Happy Mother's Day. We unabashedly love our mothers and sing the praises of the women (and sometimes men) who act as motherly figures and thus enrich our lives. Not only do these people make our lives a more enjoyable journey, but also show us the compassion, thoughtfulness, and generosity of which humankind is capable. So, from Edith in Florianopolis to Sue our momma in Cairns and everyone looking out for us in between, thank you for making the world a better place!
This sappy introduction makes for an okay segue into a topic that has been coming up more and more in conversation since coming to Southeast Asia. We will call the subject "The Role of Women in Society." Jess and I have always known that we are very fortunate to have been born in the United States where women enjoy a relatively high level of respect and equality while also taking advantage of the opportunities presented to us. My gratitude for this situation has increased dramatically now that I have been exposed to the ways in which other societies treat women often as possessions less valuable than cattle. In all of Southeast Asia, a young, attractive, giggling woman with her fat, bumbling, western "boyfriend" is a common sight -- it is a sad truth that many women's greatest chance of a stable life for themselves and their future children is to marry a guy from Europe or the US with a little money and less worldly experience. This behavior was rather disturbing at first, but after several of our Laura-Jess mandatory theorizing and speculating sessions, I think I get it and do not criticize it. In social settings, many women our age rely on the generosity of the men around them to fund their lifestyles as they do not have the means to provide for themselves as education and opportunities are not as abundant as they are for their male counterparts.
Many of the working women we have met are some real hustlers. In my opinion they work harder than the men (many of whom pass their days by sleeping in some of the most creative, contortionist-like positions on top of their motorbikes -- not hard work, but entertaining nonetheless) and while doing so are expending a ton of energy simutaneously charming, insulting, and bargaining with us and our fellow shoppers. Yet women are still often treated as second class citizens who are meant to be quiet and submissive despite the fact that they seemingly keep their families together by acting as both nurturer and provider. In other words, I would also try to take the nerdy software engineer from Denmark for everything he was worth too. More importantly though, I am extremely grateful that that is not my reality and will hopefully never take for granted the opportunities that have been given to us and that we continually create for ourselves.

Ok, so BEFORE we came to laos, faithful readers may recall that we were in cambodia, trying NOT to fall off motorbikes. cambodia turned out to be one of the most fabulous countries I have ever had the privilege to experience. our time in cambodia was way too short, but largely dominated by the visiting of a very special area of the country -- the temples at Angkor. more than a year ago, when this trip was still just a dream, katy jane was visiting me in the dregs of january finals in boston. we were both studying hard, and spent our free time envisioning this trip. eventually, we decided we needed a map, and after trucking through the snow to the cvs to purchase said map, we hung it up on the wall of my dorm room and immediately started marking places we wanted to see. sitting in my dorm room, staring at the sme posters I had been staring at since leaving california for boarding school, watching the snow pummel the window, i tried to think of the most exotic thing i could possibly imagine ... and the temples of angkor popped into my mind, and hence that was the very first place I marked on the map. So, you must try to imagine how I felt 16 months later when I found myself actually staring at a gargantuan, ornately carved, ancient building in the middle of the jungle. Did I mention that monkeys were crawling all over it, and elepahnts were also involved? Awe, is really what I was feeling. Awe at the ancient people who actually built it. Awe at the cambodian man who led us around from temple to temple, not noticing the sweat running down his face because DUH its always hot here. Awe at us girls, who actually got out ourselves around the world when we said we would.
Of course, I cannot talk about Cambodia without mentioning the horror I sometimes felt regarding the tragic history. Let me refresh your memory. This is the country where Pol Pot and his political party the Khmer Rouge took power, and decided to turn back the hands of time to year one. Intellectuals were the first to be murdered. Then the cities were emptied, everyone was forced into an agrarian lifestyle, and liberties were taken away. Then things really got nasty. As mistrust started to circulate among higher ranking members of the regime, more and more Cambodian were slaughtered for no reason. And really, it is hard to see a reason. Everyone we ask has a different theory, but no one gives us a straight answer. One thing everyone knows, 1/4 of the entire population of Cambodia was completly wiped out. Gone. Imagine what it would be like if 1/4 the population of the USA just disappeared. I bet you can't imagine it. Neither my father, Laura, nor myself can. We spent an afternoon at the Killing Fields, which is the name of a movie on this subject that everyone should see, and also the name given to all the mass grave sites where bodies were left to decay. I had a particularly devastating moment when, while following a tour guide around, I watched him stoop down and pick up a human tooth from the ground, and lament that hevy rain always brings up fresh remains. I then realized that all the debris around me was not trash, but clothing and human bones sticking out of the ground. I lost it.
Here is the really frusturating bit. Hitler and the Nazis were killing on a similar scale, and everyone can rattle off the dates of WWII, and name major concentration camps. Yet, before coming to Cambodia, if someone had asked me what the Khmer Rouge was, I would have said they were some bad people somewhere in Asia doing some bad stuff in the 80s. How has this incident been forgotten? Moreover, why has no one been brought to justice? Many leaders of the Khmer Rouge are still around, and the Cambodians are trying to get a trial started, but the details of the trial are as sketchy as details regarding the Pol Pot's reasons for wiping out a quarter of the Cambodian population. Everything is murky and confused. You can assume that everyone you see on the street in Cambodia over the age of 50 has some strong memories of the Khmer Rouge regime, and I dont know how they would be able to continue on with their normal lives without a sense of closure. As I see it, there are two possibilities to explain why no one seems to want to acknowledge the absolute devastation that hit the country a mere 20ish years ago. These people are being left out of history because 1. it is too painful to write about or 2. no one cares. Both are terrifying options.
I am trying to figure out a way to end my part of this post in a less depressing way, but I just realized that I would be doing the same thing many of the people in Cambodia seem to do, simply ignore the horrific facts, or maybe make excuses for them. So, out of respect to all the men, women and children who were murdered, I am going to end just like this.

This from datty:
Cant communicate with these peaceful Lao people . . . it's put us in a couple tough spots:
All I wanted was a simple whole fish for dinner - grilled. 6 days later, we had suffered every sort of filthy, raw, fish-mess, and I had given up. But the girls made it their mission to sit me down with a whole fish, and suddenly tonight - there it was. Live, fresh, cooked to order with nice spices. The girls are like that - effective, tenacious, loving. Time flashes by with them. Great baguettes here, by the way. Since early 70's wanted to know where the Mekong Delta really is, all those body bags. Now I know. Miss my wife. Augi

bought me a ticket back on plane to spain by katy jane

2009-05-11T06:08:00.000-07:00

hi hi hi! it has been some time, and i am still in israel, but as of 130 this afternoon, i am officially headed to barcelona. in two days! i am so so so excited to go back to spain (i was there 10 or so years ago) now that my spanish and travel skills are much better. i really haven't seen that much of europe, so i hope to run around and see as much as a can, even if it is just to get a wee taste of some places and whet my appetite for return. i leave israel on the 14th, which marks the 7th month of travel for the girls and i. also the last time i put up a blog post, but no matter! so much has happened in the last month. i have been in the north and the south of israel, i floated again in the dead sea, my cousin joined the navy and got a giant gun, i swam in the sea of galilee, the red sea, and the mediteranean. i spent some time in egypt, traveled with two really cool kids i met through couch surfing, read a new james bond book and ww2 thriller, got a tattoo (just kidding, mom!), spent some more time in jerusalem, went to the west bank, saw an awesome movie, went to my aunties clothing design studio, sat in on my uncles photo shoot for a movie poster, climbed two mountains, talked to tons and tons of israelis about the conflict and gained new perspective and formed new opinions, bought a damn ticket to spain, and have decided that it is time to think about heading back to the states. WOW!

oh, that list is big and full! most recently, in the last two days, i have seen my cousin sworn into the navy at a lively ceremony (with lots of singing) and returned from a few days in egypt. the induction ceremony, of course, made me cry, but i have come to realize that the military experience here is so different than that in the states. it is a different beast altogether and in some way, more humane than what i'm used to at home. before the swearing in, i spent several days in egypt with an awesome swiss girl aline who has come to israel to discover her jerish heritage. egypt is super unusual, very different from israel, and indeed very different from any placei have ever been EVER. i can't compare it to any place that i have been so far on the trip (hear that, fox? a comparison is JUST impossible). we traveled around the sinai penninsula, staying the first night in a hoosha (palm leaf hut) right right right on the beach. we drank tea, and played backgammon, and read books, and snorkeled. it was a slice of heaven. after that, we went south to dahab, and from there inland to st. catherines monestary and mt. sinai. public transportation is limited in the sinai, and busses sometimes just dont run. there is also little in the way of a bus stop, and more of waiting on the side of the road/at a check point until a bus comes along. sometimes this doesn't happen, and sometimes you have to take an expensive cab, and sometimes you find really nice hungarian tourists with rental cars that are going the same place as you. then, you are like me and aline, the luckiest girls in the world. we hiked up mount sinai at 2 am, in order to see the sunrise over the desert. this, not a slice of heaven. cold and hard and FULL of other tourists and camels and camel drivers. and dark. because the sun isn't up. but good at the end when you haven't sprained you ankle, died from exposure, or caught camel flu, then the sun comes up and you hike down for a hot shower and a free breakfast.

i took another trip, this time staying in israel proper (well mostly... we had a little diversion to the west bank) with an american guy called thayer. immediatley upon leaving the house here, we saved a baby kitten (so small its eyes weren't open and it couldnt really walk) that was somehow lost in the middle of a busy street; this act of good samaritanism granted us luck for the remainder of the trip. we rented a car, drove north to the sea of galilee, camped and swam, went to some hot springs and then on to the dead sea. we camped here too and tried to get up before sunrise to hike up to masada, but didnt quite make it. we did get the top though. it was good to drive around the country, as you really get a differnet perspctive than on a bus. also, there is more control over the music and let me just say, thayer whipped up some awesome cds. we made a side trip into jericho, a city in the west bank, which was really interesting.i stil cant figure out what exaclty is going on here, but the west bank is not actually part of israel, but palestine. we had to cross a border and immediately the difference was evident. the road was in bad shape, the street lights didnt work, and jericho, which is a fairly famous town, looked like a country village. nothing was in english and it looked like no part of israel i have been too. the juxtapozition of arab life and israeli life is striking, and makes me want to know exactly what is going on.

before this little trip, it was life as usual. lots of family time, good cooking, gardening, bbq's, and getting to know tel aviv. it is an awesome city, with really beautiful neighborhoods, fabulous beaches, and safe safe safe. it is an easy city to walk around and scenic. my time here has been so so so busy. and good. i think i have been here exaclty the perfect amount of time and am excited to move on, but am glad to have spent every second that i have here. israeli culture is unique in the world. sometimes, i can't get my head around it. the thing the affects daily life first and formost is the conflict, the war, the army, the constant threat of terrorism. tension here is palpable ALL THE TIME. but even so, folks dont walk around scared all the time. aprehensive, yes, on their guard, perhaps. day to day life is very pleasant here - the climate is great, the food is fresh and delicious, there are holidays all the time, and the people are really friendly and outgoing. also, public transportation is good. that said, there is a constant drought, everything closes down from friday at sundown to saturday at sundown, and people are not afraid to give you a peice of their mid, even if it is not pleasant or solicited. paradoxical place, this holy land. i don't think i could ever live here, but now i undsertand why people do. the whole mentality here is different, and i know i could never really relate, but, oh, it is refreshing sometimes. i suppose that when security more or less always hangs in the balance that one is forced to take full advantage of the good times. life is lived full tilt here, no doubt.

i dont know what else to say about life here. i have been trying to get a full grasp for 6 weeks, thinking and talking and going to museums and reading history. it hasn't always been easy, but i think that my unsease is indicative of the state of affairs. so it goes. i guess to conclude this thought - extremsism in ANY form is terrible. from hasidic jews to fundamentalist christains to suicide bombers to neo conservatives to violent anarchists to staunch racists... no matter left or right, if a person is to an exteme and unwilling to compromise, there will be a problem. i guess it is our responsibility, all of ours, as thoughtful folks with good values and relavant opinions, to be vocal against those we think are damaging civil and human rights, society as a whole, or the environment.

so in three days, i leave israel and go to spain. i have learned the most here of any place i have been on the trip yet. i am excited to run around europe for a little bit and in truth, am even thinking about heading home. the end is near! but that is for another post and another day. for now, i say shalom to israel and hola to espana.

i hope everyone is well and i love love love you all and miss you!
hugs and kisses, katy jane

ps pictures to follow!

The past two days ...

2009-04-28T07:01:00.000-07:00

Well, I know that miss Fox blogged only two days ago, but the past two days have been epic enough for us to feel like people might be interested in a play-by-play. This form of blogging isn't our usual style: we usually prefer to keep it general. But, these past two days ... Well let me start yesterday morning.

The morning of Monday April 27th found us in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh), Vietnam. Laura and I woke up in our hostel early and with purpose. Our passports, as you may imagine after 6 months of travel, have become filled with stamps of all shapes, sizes and colors. We needed more pages inserted, and that meant a trip to the US consulate. Any traveler will tell you that the consulate is a place of overly air-conditioned boredom. There are long lines, innefficient bureaucrats, and the cramped rooms always smell funny. So, expecting to spend all day trapped in the consulate vacuum we hustled out into the loud morning and made it to the consulate just before 9am only to find, to our dismay, a line out the door. Groaning, we ask the security guard for directions, but are pleasantly surprised when, after we describe our purpose, he shuttles us past the poor suckers waiting in line and before we know it we are in the overly air-conditioned room previously described. We walk right up to an empty window, and after filling out a form, the woman tells us to wait 30 minutes. Suuuure I think. This is where the real waiting starts ... Imagine our greater surprise at being outside the consulate, with newly thickened passports in hand some 20 minutes later!

Realizing that we now had a whole day ahead of us we decided to get to a bus station as quickly as possible because we had finished with Saigon and wanted to move to southern Cambodia. Our plan was to move south to a small Vietnam city named Rach Gia for the night. Then catch a bus the next morning to the Vietnam border town of Ha Tien. Then find someone to take us over the border to Kampot, Cambodia. The very nice, giggly girl booking our bus ticket was at first skeptical of our plan, insisting that we go north in Cambodia to Phnom Penh, as the border crossing there is supposed to be very easy for tourists. Well, this rustled our feathers a but and we assured the girl that we were game for a mode authentic experience. Needless to say, we decided to stick to our original plan, and called ourselves true adventurers ...

10 minutes later as I am clinging to some man for dear life as we swerve in and out of the legendary traffic in Saigon, I am regretting this bold move, and contemplating my lackluster medical insurance. The last time I found myself on the back of a motorbike, I was wearing a billowing skirt and sharing gelato with my very tall, dependable Italian man-friend as we cruised through the streets of Rome. This was decidedly NOT that situation. Now I was sweaty, smelly, and clinging to a man half my size praying that my backpack would stay in place in front of the driver where it was wedged between himself and the handles.
We make it to the bus station and are pushed into the very last two seats of the mini-van sized car we are taking on the 6 hour trip south to Rach Gia. I figured, after surviving the motorbike ride, which actually turned out to be fun, this part would be cake. There is a pattern developing here that I hope you are catching on to, being that very little turns out as I expect.

2 hours later, Laura and I have steams of nonstop sweat trickling down our faces because the air-conditioning is either off or broken, I have decided that the driver might seriously be trying to kill us all, and the small Vietnamese woman next to me (ie, sitting in my lap because I have to scrunch what must seem like my insanely long American legs into her space because I can't fit sitting forward) has already vomited for the first time. 4 hours later she has vomited again, inadvertantly thrown dried squid guts all over my leg (who carries unwrapped dry squid guts in their bag?), and has taken to fits of sleep which end up with her either falling into my lap, or the more painful crash of her skull against my poor shoulder. I tried to stay compassionate, but Laura can attest to the fact of me almost losing it. But, despite the general uncomfort, there were also moments of pure enjoyment. The act of just traveling like that is special. It was clearly the authentic way to go, as Laura was the only other tourist I saw all day, and going through the southern countryside was gorgeous. We survived the 6 hours, made it to Rach Gia and sat on the backs of more motorbikes to get to a hotel. Laura sweated he way through a bowl of spicy pho soup (really, have we mentioned that we sweat a lot? Even at night? I watched a trickle of sweat pass from her brow, down her face, off her chin, thankfully missing her soup) and then collapsed into bed after the day's adventures.

If you are still following me, you will realize I am only halfway through my story. This morning we woke up in Rach Gia, Vietnam and got back to the bus station where I was literally pushed and shoved and hustled by a small, plump Asian woman onto her bus to the border. She was a serious business woman, and also insisted on speaking rapid Vietnamese to me, but somehow we came to a price agreement. After two hours of bumping along on that vehicle (in which the woman sitting next to Fo vomited her breakfast ... Is it us, or them?), we realize we must be getting close to our destination because people are getting off every so often, but no one has said anything to us yet, so we stay put. Suddenly the bus driver signals to a man outside, who leaps on the bus and asks us if we are trying to cross the border into Cambodia. Our new friend's name is Nam, and when we give him the affirmative we are practically thrown off the bus to find ourselves ... Well, really to find ourselves in the middle of nowhere. But Nam (like Vietnam) and his friend Luk (like Luke) are standing by their trusty motorbikes and tell us that to get to Kampot, our Cambodian destination, our only option is to take their bikes. After haggling the price for a while, we agree.

We cross the border with Nam and Luk and begin our 2 hour drive through the farmland. Metaphorically or not, the paved road ended on the Cambodian side, and we found ourselves on an orange dirt road surrounded by jungle covered mountains and sprawling rice paddies and dodging huge water buffaloes. No matter what I say, no matter what pictures you may see, there is honestly nothing I can do to give this experience justice. It was magical. Well, actually, 20 minutes later it started raining, so then it was wet, but I think I can speak for Laura here when I say that I have not very often had such a strong sense of LIVING. I was soaked, we were going fast enough for the raindrops to sting my face, and I found myself again clinging to a small (I think most people from the united states over the age of 10 weigh more than this person) man for dear life. The ride was eventful as we splashed our way to Kampot. Highlights include squealing everytime we caught air going over a ditch, and sharing girl scout cookies during Nam and Luk's cigarette break. Luk was very amused by me and would point out things of interest as we sped along. Laura and I were both asked out on dates upon saying goodbye, but I warned of my 2 large, Sicilian brothers at home and our drivers left.

Now we find ourselves safe and sound in Kampot. We had dinner while watching the sunset on the river that cuts through the town. We found a very cute guesthouse and are planning on spending a few days in this quiet utopia.

We figure we have earned some days of staying put, exploring a new town, making new friends.

Love to all. Jca
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Sweating -- it's what we do

2009-04-26T01:48:00.000-07:00

Vietnam -- if you are researching the best time to go to Vietnam, you will most likely be told that April is the ideal month, lucky for us, right? It's true, the rainy season is not yet in full swing, but that doesn't mean we are dry. It is so hot here. So hot and humid that while Jessica "sweating makes me feel healthy" Caimi sits under a fan, indoors, after a downpour, in the late afternoon, her brow is still covered in pellets of sweat. It also happens that viruses thrive in weather like this so I was nice enough to pass on a little staff infection to both Jessica and my father (who sweats so much that his clothing is stained with white rings as the salt from his sweat deposits on his Tommy Bahama button-down). Now that you can imagine our oily faces and smelly clothing, I can stop complaining and describe how incredible Vietnam is. It has been a whirlwind -- just over a week ago, we flew into Hanoi, the capital city, met my father, have made our way to Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City/HCMC and already said goodbye to old Bob Fox. I freely admit that I cannot do justice to the traffic here -- it's insane. There are literally millions of motorbikes driving on both sides of the street, cutting through busy intersections, and almost taking our lives on the daily. Remember what I said about the motorbike being a family car in Malaysia? The Vietnamese take it to another level and do it ingeniously at that -- we have seen motorbikes double as restaurants, florists, and beer distributors. Due to all of the motorbikes, pollution and exhaust are in your face constantly so a lot of people where face masks. Jess astutely remarked that Michael Jackson should clearly move to Vietnam to live a life void of ridicule as he could wear his face mask, gloves, umbrella etc just as the locals do, granted it is not because they are crazy, just avoiding the sun and dust.

While in the north, we took the requsite trip to Halong Bay -- yet another UNESCO World Heritage Site to check off the list (if anyone cares to research what this actually signifies and how many sites there are, let us know) -- and spent a night sleeping on a beautiful old junk and sailing around to see the various limestone karsts (stone that juts out of the south china sea due to tectonic plate movement). After a brief interlude in Hanoi, we flew to Hoi An -- a really beautiful old mercantile town that miraculously remained untouched during all of the 20th century conflicts in the region (Hoi An is within a few miles of Danang, the military base in which US troops were first deployed here in 1965, and the Demilitarized Zone which separated the Communist North from the South). Along with the Chinese and Japanese influenced architecture, beautiful beaches, and great food, Hoi An is known for its silk and general made to order clothing racket. My father had some shirts made for him which provided us with some entertainment as groups of women measured his wing span and giggled about his Buddha belly (a compliment!). Getting a pair of knock off shoes also comes highly recommended -- I now have a pair of sea foam nike high tops waiting for me at home.

As my father fancies himself a culinary world connoisseur a la Anthony Bourdain, we spent extra time in the markets where women would be selling the seafood that they just caught on their boats tied up on the nearby riverbank -- fish heads and squid galore! We also saw sea cucumber (fresh and dried), shark fins (bad,bad!) and birds nests for the soup of the same namesake (almost as bad -- some special type of bird makes its nest from its saliva and is snatched up supposedly for its medicinal benefits). Speaking of medicinal remedies...seahorses along with deer penis AND testicles are a natural substitute for viagra. After a few days of longingly looking at the food stalls at said markets, my father joined the ranks of us "adventure travelers" who eat as the locals do while disregarding the less egregious food-sanitation issues. He ate more than Jess and I dared to -- spicy dried squid, nameless meat on a stick, and shredded pig skin to name a few.

From Saigon we took a day trip to the Mekong Delta -- we chugged along on a long boat and observed the pace of life on the river which is based around fishing and the ever-present rice paddies. Just for clarification, people really do wear the conical straw hats here, or Non La as I just learned its called, including us (on occasion). They really are perfect for keeping the sun out of your face and are lightweight and roomy enough for the hatphobic amongst us.

Before coming to Vietnam, we were a little wary of the reception of US citizens here and frankly our own reactions to being in a country with whom the US has such a notorious history. Relations between the two nations were "normalized" only 10 years ago and we, like many others, conjured up images of Apocalypse Now, war protests, and napalm-ed straw huts when we thought of Vietnam. Just like in the States, there are a myriad of opinions on the purpose, outcome, and execution of the war (here, however, there is just the added aspect of the whole Communism thing that makes the retelling of events a bit "unique/unbalanced/Big Brother-ish", but overall we have been treated so kindly and have found the Vietnamese to be lovely people). Speaking of Communism -- it just doesn't work. Ideally, isn't the major benefit to be able to lift the poorest people up to a decent level of opportunity and quality of life? Little kids are putting the English they learn in school to use by selling packs of gum and cigarettes on the street at night when they should be doing schoolwork, thus receiving sub-standard marks which will not put them in contention to attend a decent school after the elementary level, finally putting them in a position to achieve very little in the professional world unless they have a lot of extra cash which is available only due to capitalist ventures. Are you seeing the cracks? I am. In large part thanks to my father the capitalist being here to influence our opinions, but it IS quite clear that the huge and rapid success that Vietnam has experienced in the last 10 years is thanks to capitalist investment. In other words, get yourself over to this incredible country and help ignite the revolution!

6 months part two by katy

2009-04-14T05:07:00.001-07:00

the girls got a head start on this post! but yes, today is the 6 months mark of the trip, and indeed it is a momentous occasion. sometimes it seems like forever ago that we were all in the airport in dc and then on the plane to rio, and other times its seems like just the other day. either way, we have been out and about for 6 months, half a year, 180 days. that is a long time! i know i have learned so much, eaten so many yummy things, met so many awesome people, and done and seen so many cool, new things. it has been a great six months, indeed. and girls, even tho we might not be in the same physical or conceptual space anymore, we are still winners.

i am curently in tel aviv, israel where i have been for the last two weeks. i am with family and it is very nice to unpack the backpack for a while, live close to the beach and have luxuries like a full refrigorator and a washing machine at my disposal. israel is really an interesting place. i was here ten or so years ago when i was much younger and had a different appreciation for foreign travel. it is good to come back, and great to be with family, and really unusual to be in such a special place. maybe special isnt the right word, it is A right word for that israel is, but not exactly the one i am looking for. being in the middle east is pretty awesome. the weather is warm, the hummus is abundant, and the mediteranean is always much closer that i expect it to be. also, being in the worlds religious capital isn't so bad. here are the highlights of the trip so far:

1. trip to the dead sea where we floated in the actual sea (which is awesome- you are super boyant b/c of all the minerals and float at the VERY top of the water) and then sat some natural hot springs right next to the sea shore. we rubbed ourselves with mud and soaked and soaked and soaked. after this, we went to a bedouin camp and grilled delicious dinner and slept on mats on the ground. it was rustic. and DUSTY.
2. hummus! i have learned so much about so many kinds of hummus. yes, that is right, there is more than one kind of hummus. in fact, in hebrew, the chick pea is ALSO called hummus. so anythign, really, made from the hummus bean is considered hummus. needless to say, i have been eating copious amoutns of hummus, and was taught by my aunties mother how to properly make it (jess, you'll be glad to know that her recipe is very close to my own, only she adds olive oil just at the very end, when the humus is just about to be eaten). i have also learned how to make falalfel, isreali salad, roasted bellpeppers, and a thing called matza-bratza, which is like migas, only with matzo and not tortilla chips.
3. passover with the family! it was great! in the word of my friend mel, whats not to like about a holiday with tons of eating, song singing, story telling and 4 cups of wine? it was great! there were tons of cousins and aunties and uncles and a grandma around and the food was so good! my aunt tal's family is moroccan, so the food was traditional middle eastern food with a morocco twist and a little european influence (salads, spiced meat, AND gefilte fish). it was yum yum yum. i didnt; understand any of the singing or story telling, as it was all in herbew, but it was a good time and i think the jews come out of the desert at the end and triumph in some manner.
4. jerusalem, where i spent two half days, but want to go back. i don't have agreat feel for the city yet, but it is a mix of old and new, traditional and cutting edge, relgious and secular. also, of muslim, jewish, and christian although it is not quite a melting pot. what i have experience is centuries old history, still verymuch alive, bustling markets and lively folks.

for the record, becuase so many people asked me before i got here, i DO feel safe here walking around. i think that as an english speaking tourist from the us i am not in any direct danger. also, a person can't walk around scared all the time, or else the terrorists DO win. as for conflicts between the israelis and the arab/muslims, there is tension and is very palpable. i haven't figured it out yet, but i am often aware of agression, fear, and negative feelings coming from both sides, although it has been more apparent to me coming from the israeli side, (perhaps due to my present company, jewish israelis). it is a bad situation and as i learn more, i realize how much i dont know. and there are transgressions on both sides of the conflict, which is something i really didnt know until college and is soemthing that doesn;t really come across in news to the us. but that is why i am here (and traveling), to grow and learn and see things for myself and to from opinions based on my experience.

so i am here for at least another week. i am planning to get to the south of the country, to the sinai desert and maybe into egypt. i still have some exploring to do in this country, and some planning to do for the near future, but i think the next part of my trip might involve a country whose name rhymes with tofurkey. tonight, we are going to visit my aunties family in the north, in a place that is supposedly very beautiful and by the sea. i'm excited!

i hope everyone is well and i miss miss miss you!
katy jane

ps please send my choclates/champagne/a new pair of sneakers and a pretty dress to the most beautiful house on rehov kam, the one with the cute kids, adorable dog, and well loved garden.

6 months!

2009-04-14T00:42:00.000-07:00

Today marks the momentous occasion of the completion of 6 months of travel! If you would like to send flowers or chocolates to help us celebrate, please direct your delivery man to the last bungalow on the right in the jungle at ton sai beach, krabi province, Thailand. You will know our bungalow by the wasps nesting inside and the underwear hanging on the porch trying in vain to dry in this humidity. Many thanks and love, Laura and Jess

view from the front of the bus ... and i mean the very front

2009-04-10T21:46:00.000-07:00

Why am I on a bus squished between two Thai men at the moment? Let's just say it is all part of thailand's charm. Thailand is incredible, everything I have ever heard about it is true. The beaches really are that gorgeous. The food really is that spicy. The jungle really is everywhere. And Thai massages are a little strange.

Almost one week ago, my fair companion and I dragged ourselves out of our overly air conditioned hostel bedroom, and said goodbye to Paul the owner and were then hustled and jostled onto a minibus. Lucky for me and my long legs, the three shortest people ever were sitting on the front bench, their legs hardly reaching the ground. but at least we had an entire bench to ourselves in the back. 20 minutes later, our minibus had acquired a slew of other characters. I am now separated from the Fox, and am squished next to a poor old dude who had to relinquish half of his chair space to my crumpled legs. Observation number one in Thailand : locals are short. Very short. I bet I don't stand out even a little bit ...

The minibus experience got a wee bit more comfortable once one of the passengers got off early, but the experience was stressful none the less mainly because Lo and I really had no clue what we were doing. This bus was strange in that it had no identifiable stops, and people would just say things to the bus driver, he would pull over where ever we were (gas stations, markets, middle of nowhere roads) and people would get out. Plus, Thai rock music which can only be described as ... Charming ... Was the drivers choice of music and it was just one click too loud. But finally we were the only people left after a few hours of driving, and we hoped the driver understood we were trying to catch a boat.

Yes, a boat to ko phagnan island. Home of the famous full moon party which we were curious about. Not just any boat, but a overnight sleeper boat. Since I wasn't expecting the presidential suite on the queen Mary, I was pleasantly surprised to see that each person got a mattress and I think Laura has gotten used to me rolling into her in the middle of the night, so the overnight boat was a success ... That is until 515 in the morning when Fox wakes me up and I realized we have arrived when I hear all the cab drivers on the dock yelling "miss! Where you go? Sunrise beach? Full moon party? I have good price! Stay in my bungalow!" observation number two about Thailand: these people are all business when it comes to money. Even at 5 am.

We get in a cab, which by the way, is a truck with benches in the back, and pass out in the first hostel we find with a free bed. When we wake up a few hours later, we happily find that our bungalow is right on the beach, with hammocks and a bunch of cute dogs. The restaurant has an entire vegetarian section on the menu, the sun is shining on the private beach, and we settle in.

We discover that even beach bungalows have their drawbacks. Everything is always sandy, Laura had a few epic struggles with swarms of mosquitoes, and during one thunderstorm the power went out, leaving me to shower in the TOTAL. BLACKNESS. but here is observation number there about Thailand : it is totally intoxicating. By the time we lost power, I had been eating delicious food, and lying on gorgeous beaches, and hoofing it all over the jungles of the island for me to really care anymore. I was under the spell of thailands charm.

The big night of the full moon party at last, and it was just as good as people said. We shared traveling tips with the other backpackers we met, engaged in some serious beach dancing, and had our first experiences with drinking Thai whiskey out of a bucket, which is what all the kids are doing these days.I am proud to report that we made it home (around 7am) in one piece and to steal the famous words of one Katy Jane Tull, we were excited, exhilerated and exhausted. Thankfully the only thing we had to do the next day was lay in hammocks and eat spicy curry, so that worked out ok.

Then this morning, I somehow find myself squished between two Thai men again. One of the men is driving the bus Lo and I are on, the other is some sort of copilot situation because he gives all the orders to the driver, which inexplicably involves some sort of complicated honking turn signal situation, but my Thai isn't so good to get it yet.

This bus is taking us to the western coast of southern Thailand where we will island hop for a few more days. Then get to Bangkok to catch a quick flight to vietnam where a special guest and general leader of team Fox will meet us for a week of adventures!

Now fully under Thailand's spell, I can't wait to see what the rest of se asia brings, as long as the mosquitoes stop bothering the Fox.

I miss everyone at home and send love and baci to all.

Jca

For Marcus - it is starting to be unfair how badly we are beating the world. Sometimes days are so great we should get extra points! Alas, the copilot Thai man is blocking access to my purse, so I can't give you exact numbers, but we are KILLIng it! Xoxo

motosikal! vroom vroom!

2009-04-04T20:05:00.000-07:00

We are currently at the border crossing between Malaysia and Thailand so at this time I think it appropriate to reflect on our time spent in Malaysia. As I already said, this might be the smiliest place I have ever been, which is lovely. So many people walk down the street saying 'hello!' Quite loudly and directly, it's a change from college campuses in the states where one often puts his head down to avoid contact with someone he knows - perhaps we will bring this attitude back to the states with us and greet anyone and everyone with an enthusiastic greeting. The motosikal( malay appropriation of 'motorcycle') is essential for many people as it is often the family vehicle - it was a common sight to see a father driving with a toddler sitting between him and the handle and his wife sitting side saddle on the back holding a toddler or two. The use of an umbrella here is key because it is either pouring rain or really hot and are often used in conjunction with said motosikal. Did I mention how hot it is here? We are sitting just above the equator and we sweat walking slowly in the shade. Indeed, Malaysia was good to us, just now at the border crossing Jess and I received two complimentary wooden 'tourism Malaysia' key chains - too bad neither of us have use for a key and thus a key chain at this stage in our lives.

We are now in Thailand and will be embarking on an overnight ferry to the island of ko phang gan for the full-moon party that is set to take place in a few days time. We very much so enjoyed Malaysia yet are so excited to be in Thailand. Our policy is that we should always be sad to leave a place but more overcome with anticipation to experience the next stop on our journey, and so far that policy has served us well.

Marcus - 160 us, 14 world!

life under a mosquito net

2009-04-01T05:09:00.000-07:00

It's a good thing that I accidently deleted the post I was writing yesterday as I am now able to report, in real time, a momentous change in my dear fellow traveler. Jessica has just announced that she would rather stay in the wee fishing village we have found ourselves in than move to the nearby large city. After spending our first week in southeast asia in the two major cities of Singapore and kuala lumpur, it has been very nice to be be in a small town where we can get a smile out of most people and there is generally a slower pace of life. We are on the island of penang, renowned for its multicultural food, before we make our way into Thailand in a few days time. We have enjoyed the company of the other occupants of the guesthouse (our favorite of the lot just proclaimed to be on 'this' trip since 1985 - aka our entire lifespan thus far). As Malaysia is a tropical country, we took advantage and took a hike through the jungle to a nearly desolate beach where we thankfully avoided any run-ins with snakes or the monkeys that are known to run the area. The other day in kuala lumpur, however, we had a much closer encounter with some bold and hungry monkeys while visiting a Hindu temple carved out of a cave tucked into the jungle. Having seen movies like outbreak and thus knowing what havoc little monkeys can wreak, we stayed clear of them whereas other visitors to the temple thought it a good idea to make a kicking motion at the monkeys because a hissing monkey would make for good viewing on the home video they were recording. Regardless, the temples were incredible set in a most dramatic scene of caves covered in lush fauna and dripping with last nights rainfall, the scene was heightened by the 250 steps we had to climb to reach it and the giant, golden statue of the goddess kali standing guard at the base of the entrance. While in kuala lumpur we also instituted a tradition that will hopefully be sustained throughout our time in southeast asia - massage Monday. While in Australia we heard tales of the very affordable massages offered all over and decided that after nearly 6 months of sleeping in compromising positions/situations and lugging around backpacks, it would probably benefit us greatly (Please note that we pay homage to our Australian brethren by pronouncing it as 'mAHsage'). Needless to say, this past Monday was a good day for us as a small Chinese man mounted the table to work out some very large, gnarly knots in my shoulders.

Prior to our time in Malaysia we were in Singapore where we started our habits of eating delicious and cheap food and visiting temples with reckless abandon - these are some habits that we are not planning to quit anytime soon! On our first full day there we stumbled upon Hindu, Buddhist, taoist, and Islamic houses of worship all in the same neighborhood and were genuinely welcomed into all of them. The Buddhist temple was complete with an orchid-filled roof garden and text messaging monks, while the taoist temple specialized in performing marriage ceremonies for unwed souls in danger of spending eternity without a companion. We received the warmest welcome at the mosque and were given a tour and encouraged to ask any questions, which were all given thoughtful responses. The Hindu temple was covered with the colorful statues of gods, avatars, and sacred animals - the smells brought back some memories, not necessarily good or bad, of the hare krishna farm back in argentina. While at the Hindu temple Jess had yet another (soon to be) life changing moment as we saw a poster advertising that amma would be hugging in Singapore in a few days time. To those not up on current hinduism, amma is considered a saint for her endless compassion and charity - she goes around the world hugging millions of people and donates all the proceeds to humanitarian projects, not to mention that she may be the reincarnation of shiva or someone else important so she is a pretty big deal. So, Jess has been wanting to be hugged by amma for years but she continued to allude our Jessica until this past Saturday when we spent many an hour waiting in various lines until alas we were hugged! It really was a nice experience in part for amma and part for the insight into the large south Indian population living in Singapore. It is getting late but I will make a sidenote: lines do not exist here (except when at a well orchestrated amma hugging event) instead, people crowd the desired location in a crescent shape until the center point has been collapsed upon by some particularly bold members (normally older women). This is particularly important to keep in mind when boarding a bus for which you have already purchased a ticket...because it seems that it is common to overbook a long distance bus and allow the masses to work it out amongst themselves. In other words, we found ourselves stuck in the last 2 seats in the back row of our bus from kuala lumpur to penang yesterday.

That sounds like a negative way to end this post which was not my intention - we love southeast asia. I will not go so far as to say I like the squat toilets, but there is so much for our senses to experience that is new - it is truly exhilarating.

Good Bye Asia, Me Love You Long Time by Katy Jane

2009-03-30T17:57:00.000-07:00

well, pictures are first again. i can't figure out how to get them in the middle! or at the end! well enjoy them and then read up below to put them in some context.

me and greg outside his cute little house, either looking for the space shuttle or trying to explore the ramshackle building next door. you decide.

bullet train! see how FAST its going?

i think this is that famous intersection that they always show on tv when they talk about japan, where a ZILLION people all flood into the intersection when the light changes and there are bright lights and big billboards. tokyo's time square. i'm such a tourist!

fish market! so many squiggly things!

mr and mrs yajima, keiko, and haruna! so cute and great!

closed temple at the top of like 1000000 stairs.

cherry blossoms and lanterns that i LOVE and want a bunch of. at a temple.

temple life! and greg with an umbrella that the universe (in the form of a sweet nun) gave to us when we were stuck under an awning with no way to get home.

right? thats what i want to do EVERYDAY!

osaka! so bright! saturday night!

kitty chan! at the most peculiar parade ever. other attractions include: vcr's and air conditioning units, boys dressed as female cartoon characters, and a whole bevy of girls dressed up like french maid. oh, and a marching band.

temple and more lanterns.

temple. can i live here please? this temple claims to be the biggest or the oldest or something and inside is a HUGE buddha.

deer in nara that are TAME. although i didn't try to pet any.

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it has been a while since i have last posted, as it is not always easy to come across a computer whose default launguage is english. right now i am in hong kong, but very soon (in several hours, this very afternoon!) i will be boarding a flight to tel aviv, israel to do a little relaxing with the family. i have been in hong kong for only a day and a half, but have really liked it. being here and having spent several weeks in taiwan really makes me want to travel around mainland china, although i hear that things are very different over there. and i would have to work on my chinese. having spent (relativley)so muc time in taiwan, it was maybe a tiny bit like coming to a familiar place here in hk, but not really. i am lucky to be hosted by some family friends, the Weisner's, who have been kind and accommodating hosts, with cute kiddos and an east coast perspective (which, i have to admit, i've been missing).

for the last two weeks, i was in japan. it was unreal and incredible and wonderful and cold and kind of like waking up in a dream. i bet i will feel the same way when i go to london or paris, places i have only heard about and have only heard fabulous, fabled, magical things about. i expected japan to be a little something like disney land mixed with the jetsons plus ten times more people than new york times geisha, samurai, ninja, and zen gardens. plus or minus bullet trains, green tea, and sushi. needless to say, i had high and varied expectations. japan was and was not what i thought it would be, with excellent sushi, women in kimono, a ride on the bullet train (so fast!), and bright lights to even exceed the tristate area. but in some ways (not in tokyo) there is a quite slowness to life in japan. there are temples EVERYWHERE, buddhist and shinto (some both at the same time), the architecture is thoughtful and the food is refined and prepared with both skill and thought.

i spent the first week in japan in and around sakurai, a wee country town south east of kyoto and osaka. living in sakurai is one greg wazowicz, a friend of mine from college who is teaching english through a program called JET. greg has been in japan for 7 months and in that time has acquired all kinds of insider knowledge about japan, some good, some bad, but all of interest. i think japan is a hard nut to crack for foriegners, and perhaps intentionally, but it seems like greg has a fairly good handle on the workings of the world he is in, into which i got a little insight. while staying in gregs tiny, darling, very japanese house, i was able to explore osaka (bright lights!), nara (tame deer!), and kyoto (geisha and cherry blossoms!), as well as around sakurai (temples! small town life!). the thing that struck me most about my time in and around sakurai was sheer abundance of gardens, smaller than the size of our argentine huerta, where folks were growing (in the middle of the city) all manner of veggies. this coupled with, and like in taiwan, so many homes having potted plants near the door or on the balcony, made for such a pleasant, sustainable looking, and environmentally connected landscape. i wonder why we don't do that in the us? and more importantly, why don't I do that in the us? cause i never thought about it, but now i will. oh the joys of travel! but on the flip side of this green paradise is the knowledge that japan burns most of their garbage (waste is shamelessly separated into combustible and non combustible, with plastic in the combustible category) and most items for sale are beneath two if not three layers or packaging. making up for this, at least in the very short term, is the country's national obsession with cuteness. this goes for everything from cartoons, food items, clothing, and little dangly doodads to hang from your cell phone (even old men have them!). and also comfort and personal enjoyment of life, seen in a culture of hot spring appreciation, exquisite food, and a rich history of arts and theatre.

after spending nearly a week in sakurai with greg, meeting his friends, cooking yummy meals, and exploring expat life in small town japan, i went up to tokyo for nearly a week to take in the city. frenetic and crazed, tokyo really is a big city. maybe even the definition of what a big city is. bright lights, tons of people, good shopping, fancy restaurants, fast, fast, fast pace, and always on the cutting edge. in tokyo, i was hosted by some family friends, the Yajima's and the Kuriyama's. keiko (kuriyama) and her parents, mr and mrs yajima, were such excellent hosts! i satyed with keiko, her darling daughter haruna, and cute dog daigoro in the home in shinjuku. it as great to be around a baby and a doggy and a mom. i AM spoiled. keiko took the best care of me, and i enjoyed the luxury of being in a real house. she also took me to a tea ceremony, which was unique and enjoyable. the yajima's are excellent cooks and made the most delicious tempura i have ever had in my life. mr yajima took me in the very wee hours of the morning to the fish market in tokyo and then to a fabulous sushi breakfast, where he picked all the fish and i got to try all kinds of new things! i was truly sad to leave keiko and the family, but am glad for the new friends. so i left tokyo, which was getting to me a little bit (as you all know, i'm not quite a i big city girl and i was actually a little worried that the stress, hustle, and bustle of tokyo might give me an ulcer.. which it didn't), headed to sakurai for one last night, and then on to hong kong.

so this is it, i suppose. i am really, really, really sad to leave asia. i have had a wonderful time here and realized that i NEED to come back. china is calling my name, as are southeast asia and india. ah, but for another trip! i am glad for the time spent here and am so lucky to have been taken care of so well here. AND! i am excited to head to the middle east to be with my family and eat so much hummus that i absolutely explode. as always, i miss you all a ton a ton, and apologize for not being such a good blogger.

love love love love LOVE and hugs and kisses,
katy jane

we love australia

2009-03-23T17:59:00.000-07:00

I am standing in the long security line at the airport, trying not to combust with excitement! Singapore, here we come.

It is hard to believe that we have been in this huge country for 6 weeks! Although Laura and I feel that we did the East coast justice, we know that we will return one day and continue to explore australia, because there was no way we were going to see everything in the short amount of time we had. I think what I am coming away with, and what I will miss the most, is all the fabulous people we met in this country. Not just aussie - we miss our campervan mates desperately already! It was so much fun to travel with other people our age. That being said, the Australians we met were incredible in their kindness and generosity. There was rhonda and Toby. Gary, whom we were initially warned about for his ability to "take the piss" and Karen. Fox found some maybe distant relatives in the Australian Foxes. Tom, who introduced us to serenity and putting things in the pool room (everyone go out and rent the movie The Castle) and lovely Maria, who was always ready to talk about a good book. Then, of course, there was david and sue. When we met sue (in a hot tub in new zealand) she generously offered her home to us in cairns. But, in actuality, sue and david gave us so much more than a place to stay. They introduced us to their friends. They threw parties and took us to parties. They acted as personal your guides. They taught us the ins and outs of rugby. They explained Australian politics to us over dinner. They listened to us explain united states politics over dinner. They were the most generous hosts, and I am not sure we will ever be able to fully thank them.

I think my favorite activity in australia may have to be the afternoon spent in caper tribulation with sue and Maria. We had a lovely drive and coffee in the morning in port Douglas before crossing the river into the rainforest of cape tribulation. We walked on the beach, where the rainforest does actually meet the ocean. After lunch, a local directed is to a magical and secret waterhole where we cooled off before going for a short bushwalk. After we stopped for locally made icecream ... Delicious!!!!

So onward to Singapore! We miss everyone in australia already!

Xoxo

VIDEOS!!!!

2009-03-18T02:40:00.000-07:00

Hello one and all. I thought I would add some videos to the blog, in addition to the pictures LoFo put up, and the ones KJT put up!!!

This first one is from New Zealand, and I think Katy alluded to it a few posts ago. The video really speaks for itself ...

This next one is ALSO from New Zealand. Ladies and Gentlemen, for your viewing pleasure: Datty Caimi V. River. WHO WILL WIN!!!????????!!!!!!!???

And that's what I've got for today. I also just updated the map, for everyone interested in that.

LOVE, Jca

HAIFISCH!!!

2009-03-16T19:15:00.000-07:00

Lake McKenzie on Fraser Island

(image stolen from campervan mate and resident photographer, Antoine)

Hello to one and all! I am pleased to announce that Jessica and I have made it out alive of not one but TWO dalliances with shark-infested water. The first incident happened while we were exploring Fraser Island -- a huge sand island north of Brisbane on the Sunshine Coast of Austrlia -- in which the most popular ways to see the island is to hire a huge 4x4, fill it with people and camping supplies, and set off to swim in pristine lakes while avoiding the baby-eating-dingoes that run the island. Although Fraser is a very popular attraction for travelers, it often felt like we were the only inhabitants and had been sent there on some bizarre mission as 11 of us crammed onto the two benches in the back of our 4x4 and drove on impossibly bumpy sand roads trying not to flip or bog our vehicle. We swam in the cleanest, clearest lake I have ever seen -- you may be thinking, Laura, praytell, why are you swimming in a lake when you are on an island in the South Pacific? I answer you this -- paradise isn't so safe in the Summer months! Fraser Island is surrounded by sharks and jellyfish of various size and killing-ability so we obeyed the advice we were given and (mostly) stayed out of the ocean. We camped on Fraser Island and didn't even hate it so much as we were with a bunch of strapping young lads who were willing to do most of the hard work and we have also come to the realization that our gourmet cooking can transfer not only to life in a campervan, but also to a two-burner camp stove. The island holds particular significance for the Aborigines in Australia as it has been inhabited by their people for thousands of years. We were serendaded by an Aboriginal man with a didgeridoo who ran the campsite we were staying at one night who warned us explicitly not to whistle or spit into the fire as that entices the bad ghosts who have been known to drag around and beat up any dissenting whistlers. Thankfully no one in our group was willing to test out the theory and we left Fraser Island without any major damage to our vehicle or ourselves due to sharks, sand, dingoes, or ghosts!

After Fraser Island, our next major activity was avoiding Cyclone Hamish who was threatening to wipe out the rest of our plans for Australia'a East Coast. Instead of driving directly into its path in our sturdy campervan, we headed inland to the Outback, which is exactly as you may imagine: Kangaroos hopping around, locals in ten-gallon hats, and flat flat flat land with no powerlines, lights, or general sign of life for hours. It was an unexpected yet pleasant detour from our plans to see a part of Oz that we would not have otherwise had the chance to experience.

Our much anticipated sailing trip on the Whitsundays was thankfully unaffected by the Cyclone and was simply incredible. The Whitsundays is a series of nearly 100 hundred islands, most of which are national parks, that have great beaches for lounging and coral-filled shores for diving. Our sailing trip actually wasn't so much about the Whitsundays though...it was more about the Great Barrier Reef which for us was the better of the two options anyways. On our first full day of sailing we arrived just before sunset at what looked like a muddy jetty sticking out of the middle of the ocean aka the Great Barrier Reef at lowtide...the skipper threw us some snorkels and fins and we were left to our own devices to explore the reef for the next day and a half (we did come back onto the boat for meals and sleeping). I can't do it justice but the labyrinth of all the different colors, textures, and sizes of the coral that has been growing for thousands of years seemed like an eccentric's ancient palace submerged in water comlplete with hidden passageways, towers, and sumptuous decoration. A comment Jess made about the Reef was that it really is just like it looks in Finding Nemo so refer to that movie if my description is lackluster for you. We saw said Clownfish nestling in anemone, schools of hundreds of fish that found us in the middle of their migration pattern, and dundundun a shark! We were within a few meters of a proper shark. I saw it lurking near the drop off of the Reef and frantically pulled at Jess' fin to inform her of our swimming mate and may have put more fear into her than the shark did although she admits she is glad that I got her attention as quickly as possible. Although a Great White may have made a better story, it was a wee Reef Shark and thus we parted ways with our lives, limbs, and liberty intact.

After our excellent time on the Whitsundays it was back on the road to make it to Cairns in order to drop off the campervan on time -- the last 36 hours were pretty rough on our van. We almost removed an overhang in a supermarket car park, doused nearly everything in vinegar on, had a bloody massacre of mossies, oh yes and we were heading into the tropics, which lead us all to go temporarily insane with heat exhaustion but thankfully not Dengue Fever! The light at the end of the tunnel was VERY bright for Jess and I upon arriving in Cairns on Saturday as we were whisked away to our hillside retreat by our friend Sue. While at the Marlborough Sounds way back in New Zealand, we met Sue while enjoying the post-hike hot tub and after a most lively conversation considering our exhaustion, she invited us to stay with her and her husband at their home in Cairns. We warned her that we actually do take people up on their offers and lo and behold here we are, spending our last ten days in Australia in a real home with a real family which has been such a treat. We have had a perfect combination of relaxing poolside while sorting out our plans for the admittedly more challenging leg of our trip in Southeast Asia (Jessica hasn't gotten to conjugating the past-perfect verb tense in Laotian yet --egads!) and also being shown around Cairns by our personal tour guide. Cairns is a really beautiful spot -- it is a lush, tropical jungle that runs directly into the ocean and then ta-da the Great Barrier Reef! It's a special spot and we are so fortunate to be ending our Australian adventure here with such excellent company. Speaking of which, last night we celebrated a most unique St. Patrick's Day for the girls accustomed to the Philly/Boston college scene -- rest assured, it is still drunken, debaucherous, and populated by people with painted faces and funny hats. What made this celebration extra special for us was that we were able to meet up with all of our campervan mates before some of them were off to their next destination -- we had so much fun with them and had not realized how much we missed them all until we had the time to step away from the whirlwind of the past three weeks to realize how great the roadtrip was and what special people with whom we did it.

As this is the first time we have had a longish period of time with a computer, we have a lot of photos which may appear to be a bit out of order and unrelated, but we hope you enjoy them regardless!

--The Great Barrier Reef from our sailboat! Have faith that it looks better underwater.

-- Sailing on a "river" constructed by the Coral to allow flowing water and diversified sealife into the Coral in order to ensure a complete eco-system, that's some smart Coral!

-- Cleaning out the campervan on the last day...please note the abandoned emergency blanket in the foreground (how full circle is that representation of our time spent in NZ and Oz?)

-- Fraser Island at sunset

-- Icebergs are really cool (ha). This is way back at Mount Cook in New Zealand with Mr Caimi.

-- The three of us went bungy jumping in the "adventure capital of the world" Queenstown, but waited to talk about it until Mr. Caimi gave my parents the photos over dinner a few weeks ago (all for the dramatic effect) ps -- I almost chickened out

-- Realllly small campervan kitchen, always one knife or pot of boiling water away from a disaster

-- All of our campervan friends on the sailboat! From leftish: Antoine (French) Sebastian (German) Olivier (French) Laurene (French) Daniel (German) and the two of us. It maybe would have been easier for me to have labeled all the people that didn't have huge grins on their face as French -- too cool to smile.

-- All the girls trying to do our best to get cleaned up in the campervan for a night out in Airlie Beach

-- In shark infested waters on Fraser Island!!!

-- A cute and sedate Koala

-- I didn't get kicked in the face!

-- Photographic evidence that we are alive and well, or at least were 5 weeks ago, heh

-- Defending my liberty aka boxing lessons on Waitangi Day in NZ with Mr. Caimi

-- Trying to hold back the advancing glacier with our mind power to save the group of small children and nuns standing behind us, or maybe just trying to throw rocks at the nearby iceberg to see the ice fall off...I don't remember which of those days this photo was taken.

ilha formosa and beyond

2009-03-12T20:43:00.000-07:00

at bk, the architects, guest house. all the walls slide open so the inside becomes the outside and vice versa. SO cool! sabrina is obsessed and here captured enjoying what might be the best day of her life.

sabrina and ivy looking like farmers before we went on a wee, but gorgeous, boat cruise down a tree covered waterway.

road ragers!

tiny cute street in lugang, a historic town.

night market in taipei

this is the guy we bought betel nut from. betel nut is some kind of thing off of a palm like tree that when you chew it, it makes you feel all hot and flushed. truck drivers chew it and usually it is sold on the side of the road by busty babes in scandalous outfits who might be monetarily convinced to also give you a "massage." mom, i know you wanted pictures of a babe, but this is all we could come up with.

this is me and sabrina, just outside of kenting, which is a town inthe south everyone goes to for the beach. we are SO excited to be on the beach, alive. because we had just arrived via rented scooters. which was mostly fun because you were actually scared death was imminent and then glad when it wasn't.

this is me and musee and nubby, the ever present stuffed animal, infront of a huge buddha being asian tourists. we've opted for the bunny ear peace sign, and not the regular kind. we think its more authentic.

group shot outside a museum in taichong, sabrinas home town. we're lookin' fly!

SINK IN A TREE TRUNK!
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**pictures came first this time because i couldn't figure out how to make them come last. so, maybe look at them, read the post, and then look again?**
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hi everyone! i figured that for the few more days i have a computer completely at my disposal, i should update the blog and put up some pictures. i am still in taiwan with musee, a friend of the girls and mine from lawrenceville. she is living in taipei and i have been lucky enough to stay with her and her family in their awesome home for the last few weeks. taiwan is and has been so great. i wholly recomend coming if you get the chance. i might even say that you should go out of your way to get here. the people are helpful and accomodating and the food might even be consistently the best that i've had on the trip. so my time in taiwan has been spent mostly eating, but also doing some sight seeing, taichi with mrs wu, getting to know taipei and musees fab friends, and taking an AWESOME road trip with musee and her friend sabrina (and ivy too, for a bit). we were on the road for a week and went around the whole island, starting in taipei, and then working our way south on the west coast (taichong, yunlin, tainan) and around the bottom (kenting) and then back up the east side (dulan). taiwan is really diverse and tropical (we stood on the tropic of cancer!) and has mountains and beaches (sometimes right next to eachother), fruit and coffee trees, temples and the tallest building in the world. the people are also really diverse, with many groups of indegenous people, and various histroical migrations of mainland chinese and japanese. the island is unique to mainland china, and has a really prosperous economy. on the road trip the things that stood out most to me were this: 1. excelent food. in many place here, there are night food markets, like a carnival of food everynight for dinner. here you can get all kinds of delicous noodles, pancakes, puddings, meats on sticks, fruits and veggies and juices, stuff in wraps, soups and dried food. lots of people go for dinner and we do too. sabrina, in particular, is fond of squid. ivy likes these little sweet cakes, i like this spring roll thing, and musee was really into the stinky tofu. so, there are many options, as you can see. 2. the gorgeous and inventive architecture. everywhere we went (including a fabulously fated visit to the home of an architect) the interior spaces were visiually pleasing, thoughtfully arranged/constructed, and so unusually smart. often, we would go into a gallery or a book store or a bar or a restaurant, and there would be a floor or wall smashed out to make a door or a ceiling. i would NEVER have been so bold to think to do that and it usually always look raw and great, really opening the space. 3. i might actually like pop music. sabrina and musee made some delightful mixes for the trip and i have to say, i didn't hate them. so, hopefully the pictures explain what i have been up to for the last little bit. i've been having a wonderful time and will truly be sad to leave here on monday, but excited for the next bit of the adventure - japan! i fly to osaka on monday and will be in japan for two or so weeks. it will be excellent and i am the MOST excited. being in asia is way cooler than i thought it would be and in life, i hope that i am fortunate enough to come back many times. i hope everyone at home is great and i miss miss miss you all!

love katy

Its Official! by: an equally excited and panicked jess and laura

2009-03-09T20:07:00.001-07:00

AGHHHHH!!!!! We just bought our tickets to SINGAPORE! For all interested parties, we will fly out of Cairns on Tuesday the 24th into Singapore. The plan is then to take a train through Malaysia into Thailand. We will dive head first into the culture and attend the full moon party at the beginning of April, and then continue North to Bangkok.

Who knows anyone in any of these areas????

LOVE, us

ps. marcus, we are winning

pps. we are about to go sail to the great barrier reef ...... k byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

anecdotes from a campervan

2009-03-06T21:28:00.000-08:00

Hello party people! I am currently somewhere between nowhere and everywhere on the East coast of Australia, in the back of a campervan, with Laura laid out over the seat next to me sleeping. Daniel (German) is listening to Linkin Park across from me, and trying to improve his English by tackling World Without End by Ken Follet, so every few minutes I am helping him understand a few words. Antoine (French) and Sebastian(German) are stretched out over two seats in front of the cab, passed out asleep. And at the helm is Olivier, Lauren and Charlotte (all French) who have bravely stepped up to the challenge of navigating this motley crew up the coast this afternoon. All in all, everything is as it should be this lazy, sunny, Australian afternoon.

This past Tuesday Laura, Antoine, Sebastian, Daniel and myself decided to rent a 4x4 and spend 3 days and 2 nights on fraiser island, a VERY tiny sand island off the coast of australias rainbow beach. We met 4 very nice boys from London and 2 great Canadian girls who joined us on our tour. It was awesome!!! The tour is self guided, so it was kinda like Road Rules (grandparents, ask your grandchildren about it) on an adrenaline rush. The 11 of us climed into this major vehicle, and were sent off on our own with a few tents off over the dunes and beaches of the island. We saw wild dingos, lizards, giant sandflies, but thankfully managed to avoid the very poisonous snakes that inhabit the island. We swam in some crystal clear lake water, and avoided the shark infested waters. We hiked up to Indian head, where we could view the sharks (tiger, great white and hammerhead) from a safe distance. We all flew out of our seats more than once when we went over the sand a bit to fast. Unfortunately, the car was manual, so neither Laura nor I felt our skills were good enough to actually drive, but the boys thrilled in sending us flying out of our seats on a few occassions! Fraiser island may be my favorite Australia activity so far, and we were sad to say goodbye to our new friends, but happy to be back in our now beloved campervan.

I am surprised how pleasant the campervan actually is. It makes camping totally doable for me. There are three huge beds that allow plenty of room for everyone, and we have fun cooking gourmet meals. It gets a little hot sometimes, but this is minor ... Phew, Daniel just asked me what a mason is. That took a second to explain. What else fills our time? I taught everyone my friend Meghans favorite game - bowl of nouns - and my brother marcuss favorite game - contact- so car rides and nightimes can get a little rowdy. We all really enjoy eachother, and we are so lucky to have made so many great friends because it means more people to visit in western Europe!

Ok, I think it is my naptime now. Pictures will be uploaded in a few weeks from Cairns where we are staying with a friend. By that time we will have sailed to the great barrier reef, so the picturs will be amazing to make up for the drought!

Love and baci to everyone at home! We miss you so much.
Xoxo jca

For Marcus, world 14, us 130!!!!!!!

VIDEOS: long overdue by Katy Jane

2009-03-01T03:00:00.000-08:00

hi all! i am in taiwan and despite being in the southern hemisphere in early spring, it is quite lovely here. it IS spring time, and tho i left the middle of summer in the southern hemisphere, i am in a nearly tropical local and things are starting to bud and smell good. i am eating so many delicious things here and learning to appreciate Q, a positive description of chewy food. my chopstick skills have also been complimented, and today i took the bus all by myself, with a little note musee's mom wrote for me, which said in chinese where i was going to and coming from. it was not so hard! i have learned to say "sheh-sheh" which is thank you and "nee-how" which is hello. i'm just begining my chinese education, but am having doubts as to whether i should continue before mastering spanish. i just asked musee for some input, something she wanted to say to our greater blogging community, and she said this: "everyone should come to taiwan. at some point in their lives." though i have only been here a few days, i have to agree with her. everyone is very nice, taipei is clean and easy to get around and the food is DELISH. this morning, musee's mom took me to a taichi class in a park (just like i wanted! but with fewer old ladies in leisure suits than i had envisioned) and it was great. mom, i learned that "chi" is like breath, but something more. i think it is like a life force harnessed by the breath. i am not sure, but mrs. wu and i have decided to take several more classes while i am here, so we will surely find out. i don;t have any picture to put up yet, i have only taken pictures at night markets (late night food market where yummy street foods are sold en masse, lots of things on skewers and soupy things) but promise to take more and put them up. but! i do have some videos from new zealand that have been long anticipated by me and the girls. so, here goes:

the above video might or might not be a place the girls and i stayed in new zealand - i'm not telling. you be the judge. regardless, please take note of the space suits in the background.

so there is another video of some sheep crossing the road, but thats not for today. more later! don't want to give away all my secrets in one go anyway. so wrap up, things are good in asia. hope everyone is well and miss miss miss you.

love katy

ps

2009-02-23T21:05:00.000-08:00

Just to be clear, when we set out 134 days ago, it was suggested to us that we tally up how many days we come out on top compared to the days that the world shows us that it dominates us. May I say, we have been doing fabulously with us leading the world 120 to 14.

life in a van down by the river by Laura

2009-02-23T20:17:00.001-08:00

Here's the scene: as I type this note to you I am sitting at the kitchen table of a caravan filled with Yermans and Frenchies hurdling up the east coast of australia. Contrary to what my mother may believe, we have not been kidnapped and forced into a camping-loving cult but have instead decided to take the ultimate roadtrip in the most quintessential way. We met the group in sydney and are now in our third day of travel - we have already visited some beautiful beaches and have settled into the caravan lifestyle (minus the chemical toilet which we have elected to leave barren to spare us all). We have also decided to introduce a phrase of the day in English, French, and German. Yesterday, the English term was 'narly', the french was 'dans tou cou' which nicely means 'in your ass' and is supposedly used whenever someone asks you where something is and that is your kindly response. The German word of the day was 'highfisch' which we think means shark but maybe that was a joke?

2009-02-23T20:17:00.000-08:00

taiwan and the east coast of australia by katy jane

2009-02-23T00:30:00.000-08:00

hi all,

this post will be short as i am low on time at the internet cafe. big news this post: the girls and i have decided to part ways here in australia, with jess and laura to continue up the coast with some europeans in a camper van and me headed to taipei, taiwan to see a friend of ours from l'ville. we were together this weekend in sydney in a lovely hotel (thanks, linny!), but have gone our separate ways. as for the time in australia, we have enjoyed ourselves very much. i really really liked melbourne, which had a nice feeling to it, abundant, affordable, yummy food, and lots of tiny, colorful bright alley ways to get lost exploring. i'm sad to be leaving australia, but am excited to move on to the next phase of the trip. the girls and i have had a wonderful time, have seen so many awesome sights and met really great people. i am very sad that we are leaving eachother, but i think the time is right, as we have come to an inevitable crossroads on this kind of trip. ideally, we have all decided to travel to see new ways of life, meet new people and try to get a grasp of how people all over the world experience the ineffable. even on a trip where people, me and the girls, are together all the time and share common experiences, we all take away very different things and lessons and grow in new ways. in the last few days, i have come to realize that what i want and want to see and do and experience and live is different, no better and no worse, but different from the girls. and after much deliberation, i decided to be on my own for a while. i'm glad for the time we spent togther and the stories we will have to share in the future and the memories we will have forever. ah, this is actually getting a little depressing! but i am excited to get to asia and i know that the girls are very excited to keep exploring australia and the east coast. i am so excited and appropriately appreesive about traveling in an asia country, speaking only spanish and english, but can;t wait to eat a ton of noodles, to taichi in the park with old ladies, and drink tea until i burst. so, i will keep posting as will the girls and j.k.l.worldwide will be increasingly international. we continue to be winners. ok, out of time. hope everyone is well and i miss miss miss you all.

love katy

ah, new zealand.

2009-02-17T03:01:00.000-08:00

Hello hello! Well, I write to you from sydney, australia ... But last time you heard, we were in christchurch, new zealand with mr. Caimi (called Datty for the rest of this post). It was really great to have him here with all of us, and a taste of Los Angeles for Me.

The last day he was here, we tried to go see an airshow at a base that was closing nearby. We expected to see droves of people ad we got closer, and maybe some jets doing acrobatic tricks in the air, but we were confused to find nothing of the sort. There was a family sitting outside their car on the side of the road, and their gaze appeared to be pointing toward the heavens, so we stopped to ask some questions. An hour later, we got back in the car having made new friends - the Konowe family. The girls and I ended up staying with these lovely, generous people for two days in their home, and I can't think of a better way we could have ended our time in new zealand.

I, personally, changed so much when I was in new zealand. I tried things, and saw things I thought I never would. My favorite activity is very revealing to this point. Sit down everyone. My favorite activity was hiking. And not just a little jaunt down the beach, but a full day trek over mountains, through craters, and even a little hobbling through rainforests at the end. Though this activity made two of my toenails turn purple, and Fox may have Developed a small case of temporary tendonitis in her foot, the sense of accomplishment I felt when we finished this 18 km, 7 hour, full day hike ... Well, it was just awesome. It made Me realize why I am on this trip in the first place. Don't get Me wrong, there are other things in my life that make Me proud, but this was something different. It was different from graduating college, or learning a second language, or winning an internship I really wanted. This was Me stepping way outside My box, and enjoying it. I suggest you look back a few posts ago, and check out what I had to say about "death mountain." trust Me, I have come a long way.

So, needless to say, I loved loved LOVED new zealand.

And now I find myself in australia. I couldn't be more excited for the road ahead.

So, there it is. We miss you ALL so much! I wanted to mention, that if you haven't looked at our google map for awhile, it is pretty impressive. Also, we have so many great pics and videos to put up, but never a good computer to do it on. So to picture new zealand, just imagine the most saturated colors ever (and if you want to check out the hike I described, google the tongariro alpine crossing ) and we will put up stuff ASAP.

Love love and baci to all, direct from Me!

Jca

Ps. Marcus. I'm still winning.also, us lil boo on google yet? Xoxo

August in New Zealand GUEST POST By: Datty Caimi

2009-02-08T13:09:00.000-08:00

Things got a little hairy, but i'll explain.

The girls move like fireflies, often at night. Their recon is based on a biblical travel book that identifies potential sleep-spots that are clean and safe - and dicey. For example, when we saw the penguins on the coast, a swarthy bar patron asked me to go to the back of his van and look at his Bull Mastif. The girls quickly demurred. The penguins were amazing.

In Queenstown we rode beautiful horses into a paradise: the set of the Lord of the Rings films. Glacier capped mountains and turquoise streams guided us, along with a cute Kiwi horsewoman. But that damn English saddle haunts me.

We "jumped" mightily out of Queenstown, into the realm of the highest mountain in Australiasia, Mt. Cook. A three hour hike took us to the base of this giant. But to reach the mountain we had to ford a flooded stream. At some risk, I built a small walkway with nearby rocks - photos and video to follow. The stream lead to a glacial lake full of icebergs. Seriously, real icebergs, huge and floating. Later we took powered rafts and sucked the marrow from the ice?

I am pleased and satisfied with the judgment and joy these young women exhibit. Oh ... did I forget to say I'm jealous? All is well, thank God. See ya stateside. Datty

mt cook con't by Katy Jane

2009-02-03T23:10:00.000-08:00

So the phone goofed just before I finished, but this time mysteriously posted instead of mysteriously deleting. Mostly I wanted to say that we hope eveyone is will at home and are glad you are reading the blog, leaving comments, and writing us emails. We appreciate it so so so much, even if we can't always respond right away. Especially these last few weeks where the internet has been exceedingly difficult(read: expensive) to get on. So we love love love you!

jkl

Marcus, I don't know what the count is and Jess isn't here right this second, but I think we're kicking ass... for realsies.

Mt cook!

2009-02-03T22:24:00.000-08:00

,m gonna write this post just as fast as I can because I wrote one two days ago that got deleted when the phone froze. So hopefully time, powwers of the universe, and lance Armstrong will be on my side this time. As per the title, we are at the base of Mt cook, new zealands highest mountain. I'm actually looking at it this exact moment! And boy oh boy is it big! We are here with a special guest, Mr August Caimi, who has joined us here. We have had a lovely time today, taking a walk throug hooker valley and over some precarious bridges. I do believe that mr caimi and the girls might have even forded a river today, during a period of activity afectionately dubbed 'daddy adventures.' These adventures often include singing marine corps songs, coming home in need of a band aid and are generally character building. Needless to say, we're into it. Since mr caimi has been here we have been doing lots of fun things like going to the cookie factory, playing a TON of cards, he and the girls went on a horse riding trip, taking hot showers and being otherwise taken care of, including the luxury of not driving (which is quite a luxury, as they drive on the other side of the road here. We have so far been pretty safe and managed to avoid such quintessentially new zealand road hazards as herds of sheep and loose cattle). Today, after the trekking and river fording, we went on a little dingy across a glacial melt lake. There were HUGE icebergs and we drove almost right up to the face of tasman glacier, the longest one in new zealand. Glaciers, it has been officially decided by the group, are way cool. Several days ago, at the begining of our time with mr caimi, we did another conceptually similar (in a cold, Antarctic sense) activity, one which was for Jess the fulfillment of a life long dream. We were driving from christchurch and were headed to dunedin, when we realize we just had to stop in oamaru. Not because it was the home of a big cheese factory(thoug it was), but because...omg!... It is home to two colonies of penguins! Yellow eyed ones and little blue ones! So we went and we saw and were awed by cuteness. Oamaru itself reminded Me of the old mining towns in Colorado, down to seedy bars with cheesy wall paper and bar tenders with big mustaches. We met somelocals who invited us to act in a TV commercial. We declined due not to lack of interest, but lack of time, and went instead to see the penguins and then to a hear some atrocious cover bands at the Penguin Entertainment Club, where Laura (rightfully dispointed with the quality of her bottled beer) was gruffly refused a fresh drink after the barman sampled and returned her flat and now sullied beverage. The real highlight of the evening, next to the penguins, was the awesome old dude playing the harmonica. He shredded! I'm talking a rival to the greats. We will be in new zealand until the tenth, when we take an oh so early flight to Melbourne, australia. We are excited. Mr caimi is here for 6 more days. So we will continue to make the most of it!

In technicolor! Laura

2009-01-22T21:24:00.000-08:00

It's true! We have found a computer that has given itself to us free of charge and with no further adieu we bring you New Zealand! To begin, the colors are incredible...maybe it is the hole in the ozone, but I have never seen greens so green and blues so blue. This became very evident when we were on the Bax Family dairy farm (the setting for the Shire in Lord of the Rings...I really will try to stop the references)
view from the Baxes' backyard

with the wonderful Bax Family eating pumpkin pie on it's New Zealand debut

Katy the farm hand

Mount Doom looming over an other-worldly/post-apocalyptic landscape

The Emerald Lakes at the Alpine Crossing in Tongariro National Park

Jess in the clouds, literally, scrambling down a summit

Hydrangeas are no exception in New Zealand, the biggest and most brilliant colors...ever!

Cathedral Cove on the Coromandel, it was decent, whatever...

milestones galore! Laura

2009-01-21T01:53:00.000-08:00

Warning: the following passage may contain egregious spelling and punctuation errors due to using a keyboard slightly larger than my thumb which is all a result of the lacking free internet access, emphasis on free, in new zealand

Today is marked as a momentous day for various reasons and I will begin with the most apparent...we have a new president! Which leads us to our second milestone, we woke up at 515 in the morning today. Serendipitously we were near a TV just in time to see obama sworn in with jumbled words and all(the nerves were endearing!), as you
may presume, we were
not awake at that hour in order to pay our patriotic duties, but because we were on our way to one of our least-anticipated yet continually most memorable (for better or worse) activities - trekking! Which will be referred to as 'tramping' while in new zealand to refer to one of the most popular activities for its countrymen - it's not just for you granola-eating, subaru
-driving,tree-huggers up in Vermont down here in new zealand. Oh, I jest! In reality, despite how I try to hide it, I have become the greatest proponent of general outdoorsiness in the group. So as today is our ONE HUNDRETH day of travel (yet another milestone to add to your list) and we are in the land of 'great walks' (and lord of the rings), we planned a tramp of EPIC proportions in which one Laura Fox and Jessica Caimi set out at 8 am to conquer or succumb to new zealand's greatest day walk (rest assured that the term 'walk' is used very lightly
here) in which we were to face craters, summits, emerald lakes, and sulfur fields aka mount DOOM, the land of the orgs, etc, all of which are sights in lord of the rings that were shot there - we were hopeful that the similarities would end there and we would fair better than Frodo and Sam :\
(apologies for the unabashed lord of the rings references as I just saw not only the first film but all three last week for the first time)

While seeing some truly other worldly landscapes on the tongaruro alpine crossing, Jess was able to recreate various scenes from the film while I tried in vain to deny my new identity as an outdoorsy person. I suppose while on the walk there were two more milestones - first, we decided that five or six hours is our physical and mental limit for a day hike especially considering that we were not the most professionally outfitted group with my 'streetwear' adidas and all. Too bad the walk took us seven hours...which not only led us to fits of delerious laughter and hobbling on feet that had tried to run away from our bodies hours earlier, but also to the completion of our longest trek/tramp to date! The length was allegedly 18 and a half kilometers but man oh man that last half kilo went on long enough for Jess to contemplate setting up shop in the bush while also talking to herself (first sign of legit delirium, I have recently learned). Thankfully the third member of our party, miss Katy Jane, who had pased on the hike, was waiting at the end of the path ready to mother our rather tired selves.

I have a few photos on my phone from today - not only do they not do the land justice, but I am just not that patient to figure out how to add them now, so I implore you to look up the park online. At the close of this most memorable day, I would like to thank all of you for your support and positive thoughts throughout our first one hundred days and we will in turn send our support and positive thoughts to the states on this the first of, hopefully, many proud days for our country, good deal?

i've traded vogue for gum boots

2009-01-11T00:45:00.001-08:00

Hello hello all and welcome to this edition of Jessica out of her element! This episode features a tent and cows!!!

Actually, all joking aside, I have to say that the girls and I have been having an absolutely fabulous time here in new zealand. We arrived new years eve in auckland, and after a good nap, met some other travelers from France and Spain and we all decided to go down to the viaduct area together where we could see fireworks go off at midnight, and experience the great local tradition - the pub! We had a very fun night, which included cutting a line and getting into a dance club for free where we proceeded to dance the new year away. A perfect way to start my year.

The next day was filled with logistics and planning because a) we had decided that staying at hostels was a but too harsh on our budgets because of expensive kiwi prices and b) we decided to take another swing at WWOOFing but had to plan when and where to volunteer ourselves.

After being invited to stay for a week on a dairy farm in Cambridge, we decided to attack the budget problem by investigating camping equipment. Yes, your eyes do not decieve you, I agreed to give camping a try. The decision was made a bit easier when a tent was given to us by the universe. When asking about buying cheap gear at our hostel front desk, the woman behind the counter said, "well, you can have this one here for free if you want it. Someone left it behind." The girls and I eagerly unfolded the tent to find a perfectly functioning tent, plus waterproof rainfly ... for only two people. Well, at least we will be cosy at night, which was a worry on our minds because we had nothing but silk sleepsacks to sleep in. We bought some inflatable mattresses to put on the ground, but searched in vain for blankets. It was Laura Fox who, while exploring an outdoor store, first suggested the idea of using emergency blankets. For those who don't know, emergency blankets are glorified pieces of tin foil that are thrown over marathon runners after they finish racing. I had only seen them before at the finish line of the Boston marathon.

So, armed and "ready" for camping we set off to Waiheke island for the weekend. The island was beautiful and complete with white sand beaches, wineries, and friendly locals. We spent a great day on rented bikes, exploring the island (an excellent suggestion from a friend at home!)Camping went as well as could be hoped. The first night was miserable. It rained and we were all wet and cold. The next night I wore 75% of the clothes in my backpack, and at least managed to stay warm. I can't load any pictures right now, but there are good ones of my poor footsies sticking out of the wee tent, and Katy and I wrapped in the emergency blankets. But, waiheke was fun and gorgeous and we were excited to head back to the mainland to start WWOOFing.

For the past week, we have been staying with one of the happiest, most thoughtful and generous family I have ever known. Compared to staying on the Hare Krisna farm, staying with the Bax family is like going on a fun family vacation. Highlights include riding on the backs of tractors, going kayaking at night to see glowworms, and riding horses. There has also been some hard work and we hope that Phil and Tracy and the entire Bax family has been satisfied with our work. Again, there are some really priceless pictures that go with this story - us wearing farming clothes, us with cows (did I mention we were on a dairy farm!?), us pulling on our intense gum boots in the morning, and also some really incredible pictures of new zealand landscape.
Today was a day of rest spent making feta cheese and watching the Lord of the Rings movies, which were all shot in new zealand! Tomorrow is our last day with the Bax family, and then we are off to pick up a rental car, and then we are letting the wind decide where to lead is next.

We hope all is well at home, and send lots of love to everyone!

Love and baci, Jca

For Marcus - me 77 world 13 xoxo

2009-01-11T00:45:00.000-08:00

new zealand, new year!

2008-12-31T13:48:00.000-08:00

Hi hi! We've made it safe and sound and have rung in the new year. I hope this post find everyone likewise.

The End of an Era By Katy Jane

2008-12-29T06:55:00.000-08:00

Pictures! From this time and last time:

Fox in the pool with a cutie-patutie dog... woof!

Us waiting for a new bus in the apocadesert....bummer!

Gorgeous sunsent in Lima from Harrison´s balcony... que rico!

Inca stone work... wowy zowy!

Us girls at Machu Pichu... OMG!

Team Fox, minus photographer Katy, on the Hiram Bingham train to MP... fambly!
-------------------------------------------
Hi Sports Fans! I´m going to open this post with a video message from Santiago, Chile:

So happy holidays and all that. We celebrated Christmas by eating Chinese food, lounging poolside, and making a new (and different, though equally excellent) experience of the holidays - away from family, but with a loving family of friends. We have been in Santiago for a week or so, arriving after four long, hot, icky days and three dusty, chilly, stiff nights on busses from Lima. This was our least hitch-free bus ride, as one bus got in a minor collision (we got rear ended, breaking out water tank and the windsheild of the bus behind us) and the other had and unknown mechanical problem (air conditioning?). Owing to this, we had to wait several hours each time for a new bus to come. We did, however, meet a lovely new friend (and mother figure), Juan Pablo from Ecuador, who helped us along the way and brightened our days and nights. Our time in Santiago has not been the most exciting, but it has been essential. We are collectively a little worn out from traveling ever so intensely for over two months, not to mention in countries where even basic communication is often difficult. So we have been resting up, reading up, eating up, and getting super, super, SUPER excited for our trans-Pacific jump to NEW ZEALAND!!!!!! which happens TODAY!!!!!! As I write this, somewhat franticly, the girls are packing their things to head to the airport, where we fly to BA and then to Auckland, where we arrive in the wee hours of New Years Eve Day. We have already been in contact with WWOOFing hosts, and are so excited to be back on the farm, this time learning how to milk cows and make cheese (OMG!!!).

Since today marks the end of the first part of our trip and it is very almost a new year, I think some reflection, recolection, and rememberance is in order. We have had a lovely two and a half months; we have learned, grown, experienced, danced, read, heard, breathed, seen, spoken, tasted, felt in all sorts of new ways. For me, someone who recently wrote a thesis on the American Dream, being on another American continent and steeped in another American culture has really been eye opening. One America could not, would not and can not be separated from the other and we have seen this relationship from the other side. I think one of the biggest things I´ll take away from South America is the responsibility of either deliberately calling myself ¨American,¨ or someone who is ¨from the United States,¨ but now knownign that the two are not one in the same. We have all come to reconsider our ¨American¨ identities as well as our roles as ¨people from the US.¨This I think is the most valuable lesson learned so far, and, on an international level, the timing couldn´t be more perfect.

Jess, just surveyed, reports that adaptablitity is what she has learned most on this trip. We have been confronted with many situations in the last two months that have been hard (Krishna farming), gross (hostel bathrooms), unusual (living out of a backpack with a very limited wardrobe), or otherwise not ideal (sleeping on busses). In contrast to this, we have been lucky enough to experience myriad other situations that have been liberating (having very few material possesion, including clothing), ecologically - and maybe even spritually - enlightening (Organic Krishna Farm), and character building (cold showers). Drawing inspiration from one of our recent favorites, the girls and I would like to think we know what he means when Che Guevara say ¨I felt incapable of making any decisions but clung to the thought that no matter how bad things became, there was no reason to suppose we couldn´t handle it.¨ So thats good and a good lesson learned - a confidence and ability to roll with the punches.

Laura is in the shower so I can´t ask her what she has learned, so in the interim, I´ll include another group realisation. From Edith and our serenditptious mother figures to hostel friends and bus drivers, we have come to realize just how awesome people can be. And awesome doesnt even do justice to the kindness, openness, and generosity we have been shown absolutely EVERYWHERE we´ve been. Not one single person has been nasty to us (excluding drunk men at clubs who confuse sexual advances with friendlieness.. ick!), we have been stopped on the street when obviosuly confused by the the map and asked if we need directions, we have had several people speaking in various languages attempting to solve our probelems. This random kindess is something that has really touched us and stirred in us all the want and desire to pay it forward. Never again will we shy away from the befuddled, non-English speaking tourist in our home towns, but instead listen very carefully, look closely at their maps, and even walk with them to their desination if we deem the directions confusing.

Ok, Laura is out of the shower and reports this: balance and communication. Having all been used to the rigors and schedules of college, we have all had to adjust to life without certain parameters. We are up to our own devices in every sense of the word, from feeding ourselves enough and finding a place to sleep everynight to keeping ourselves busy and feeling satisfied. We have learned to strike a balance between rapid touring all day and partying all night, only to sleep the day away. More importantly, we have learned that importance of communication with eachother, which includes honesty, assertion, patience, and integrity. This carries over to our communications with people at home, which is not always easy or constant, but hopefully becoming more meaningful and relaxed.

So! We´ve lived, loved, learned and now we must go to the airport. Next time we post we´ll be in NEW ZEALAND speaking English in a new year on a continent we´ve never been to... hurray! We love love love everyone and miss you times 10 and hope you are all well and the new year finds you all happy and healthy!

kisses on the cheek like the do here,
katy and the girls

marcus: world - 12 j - 63

Ode to Pachamama by Laura

2008-12-17T14:31:00.000-08:00

**DISCLAIMER!!! We are unable to upload our pictures/videos. Please be patient! Our lifestyle ain't always easy and the web ain't always perfect!!!11!!1!!!~~``~!**

After leaving Mendoza at the end of Susie's time with us we made our way to Lima via a series of epic bus rides through the desert and have since returned to Peru's capital after 10 days of whirlwind travel with my dear parents and brother. We have loved Peru and have traversed it by budget buses, luxury trains, and almost every type of transport in between, while simultaneously fluctuating in altitude from sea level to 14,000 feet and back again. Although five out of the six members of the group succumbed to projectile vomiting due to nausea at some point on the most intense and activity-packed "vacation" we have ever experienced, we all emerged with a great love and appreciation for Quechua Socialized living, trekking sandals(!), and above all, Pachamama.
Before the Foxes arrival in Lima, we were once again so fortunate as to have virtual strangers bestow upon us their hospitality and time in showing us their city. The first was our past (and current) host Harrison, an acquaintance of Katy's, who allowed his apartment and life to be overrun by the three of us. Secondly was my college friend Regina's cousin, Esteban, a lifelong Lima resident who generously showed us all around the city from an insider's perspective. This included trying lucuma ice cream, watching him eat the Peruvian delicacy of anticuchos -- cow hearts, and a trip to our consummate favorite neighborhood, Chinatown.
Once our travels with the family began we were able to see the stark contrast between Lima, the colonial center of the Spanish, and the Andean cultures which have preserved their traditions albeit often disguised to quell the Spanish Catholics. Our introduction into pre-Columbian Peru and the scene of our en masse vomiting incident was at the Nazca Lines -- a series of lines dug into the desert that transform into giant depictions of various animals and geometrical symbols when seen from a plane. Mind you the plane is a single-engine cessna and the day was particularly windy (justification for our collective weak stomachs). Although we were very grateful to be back on the ground, the site was remarkable for its millenia old grand-scale engineering as well as for its mysterious origin and purpose.
Next we made our way to Cuzco where I contemplated running away to join the Quechuas to live and work in their socialized terrace farm communities, but decided to stay with the group in order to ride the fancy train up to Machu Picchu (still trying to find the happy medium between socialist and capitalist). While visiting Machu Picchu the "not actually lost city of the Incas," we were hindered rather than helped by the various and often conflicting "life-changing" accounts of fellow travelers so I will not say much in that regard except that it truly felt like we were in a sacred place destined for something beyond this life -- especially after the girls and I hiked, crawled, and side-stepped for more than five hours to and from Machu Picchu Mountain and looked down upon the Incan city. Besides the sacred site upon which Machu Picchu was built, the stonework of all the Incan ruins we saw was incredible -- without metal tools or wheels they transported massive stones and fit them together without space for a piece of paper between them.
Our next big stop was Lake Titicaca -- the supposed origin of the great Incan Empire and what the Spanish thought was the fountain of youth. Lake Titicaca is huge and there are many islands in it that are the main draw of the area because of their culture and traditions that were more isolated and thus better equipped to withstand the Spanish influence. The cities that surround the Lake, however, are a bit lackluster which was further emphasized by our accommodations being located on a converted island prison. Our day on the Lake was really incredible -- we visited one of the fifty Floating Islands which are the result of the Uros people fleeing the aggressive expansion of the Incas. The Uros people base their entire lives on the reeds that naturally grow in the Lake -- they use the roots for the base of their islands and use the reeds for food, ground cover, and building materials. In order to get a better view of the Floating Islands we took a ride on a boat made entirely of, guess what? Reeds! The boat was operated by two oarsmen who were kind enough to let me refresh my bladework skills that have deteriorated since my collegiate rowing days many moons ago. Also on the Lake we visited Isla Taquile which seems largely unchanged for thousands of years -- seen most recently in their denial of a major hotel company's multi-million dollar proposal to build a resort on half of their small island. Their desire to maintain their culture is based on communal living in which family and food have paramount importance whereas money is valued only in order to provide necessities instead of modern comforts. Isla Taquile lends itself to me coming full circle with the title of this entry. Pachamama is the Quechua name for Mother Earth who is just as highly valued as Pachapapa, the Sun God, in accordance with the Quechua emphasis on balance and their deep respect for nature. While in Peru we have experienced various aspects of nature and seen the way in which the people that live in commune with their surroundings have inspired us to be more thankful for what Pachamama has given us.

for marcus: 55 jess 10 world

Buenos Aires – Adventures with My Born-Again Homeless People - Guest Post by Suze Tull!!!

2008-12-07T10:22:00.000-08:00

(Better late than never! The girls are already in Peru but it has taken me a few days since returning home from Argentina to write this post.)

Being homeless is tough – even if you are homeless because you chose to backpack around the world after college. You’re constantly mobile, sleeping someplace different (and usually in bedding of questionable quality, if bedding at all), wearing your cleanest dirty clothes, figuring out transportation – whether across town or an international border, watching every penny when it comes to food and supplies, exerting significant mental energy to speak the local language and more. I’m beat just composing this list.

So when I arrived the Friday before Thanksgiving at the very modern and hip Hotel De Diseno in Buenos Aires’ stylish Recoleta neighborhood, our little vagabonds, five weeks into their trip and having recently spent 10 days on the spartan Hare Krishna farm, were in good spirits and health but a bit worn out and needing some TLC.

I found the girls in the hotel’s lower lobby, sprawled listlessly, like wilted flowers, across a white shabby chic sofa. Katy Jane’s mascara was smudged halfway down her cheeks and all three chicas were moaning about smelling less than optimal (my paraphrasing of what they actually said). They had gone out dancing the night before and finally left the club around 6:30 a.m. in this very European city, which never sleeps (dinner at 11 p.m. is common, and clubs rarely get going before 2:00 a.m.).

Unable to check in prior to my arrival, the girls had been “napping” in the park across the street. Fortunately, Buenos Aires also is a city of beautiful, well-shaded parks every few blocks, always filled with people and their off-leash dogs.

When we finally got to our accommodations – a lofted suite with two bathrooms including a rain showerhead and Jacuzzi, the cleansing began. I got concerned when 50 minutes passed and Laura was still in the shower, but she was fine. Jess soaked in the tub for just as long. I forget what Katy Jane did but it likewise involved a communion with water and soap. Amidst it all, there was discussion about washing off layers (note the pluralization) of residual dirt from the huerta. And I was asked to take a vow of silence, promising to never disclose the color of anyone’s bath water.

Then we all passed out in big, plush beds with comforters until well after dark. Around 11 p.m., revived and right on time for BA, we went to dinner nearby. I noticed at this and every subsequent meal with our travelers that there was never a speck of food left on a single plate and that desserts vanished within a few minutes of being set down on the table. I also noticed that Jess loves gnocchi, which is widely available in Argentina due to significant Italian heritage and population.

On Saturday, we bussed across town to El Campo Argentino de Polo to watch some of the country’s best teams compete in the four-week long 115^th Argentine Polo Open Championship (“El Abierto”). This is one of the most prestigious, annual, competitive events in the world of polo, a sport at which the Argentines excel globally. I think the girls enjoyed the spectacle of the matches but it triggered some debate about animal rights.

The following day, we went to the weekly Sunday flea and crafts market in the antique district of San Telmo. As is often the case with these types of events, the street performers and people watching were superior to the merchandise being sold, with few exceptions.

Katy Jane and I ran some errands near the hotel on Monday so we got a good feel for the neighborhood in Recoleta, which she likened to NYC’s Upper East Side. It had lots of fancy shops, including more confiterias (pastry shops) and high-end children’s clothing boutiques than we could count. We stopped in at Dos Escudos to pick up a tray of treats, which we ate in about five minutes around midnight in a spur-of-the-moment, hotel room pajama party. The day also included at pit stop to see great art at the Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires, one of many outstanding art museums in the city. That evening, we went to the touristy but fun tango show at the historic Café Tortoni -- amazing dancing!

Patagonia -- Heaven on Earth

After four days in BA, Katy Jane and I took a three-hour flight to El Calafate in Southern Patagonia for a few days of outdoor exploration. I have been to the Canadian Rockies and the Alps in three countries but I have never seen anything as exquisite as what I saw here, at what is almost the end of the earth in the southern hemisphere. The view from our rustic-style hotel, La Cantera, included mountain peaks and the turquoise Lago Argentino. The nearby Parque National de Los Glacieres is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and includes the Perito Moreno Glacier, where we trekked with crampons. We spent Thanksgiving day horseback riding at Estanicia Cristina. Breathtaking!

Although we’re not huge carnivores, one evening we went to Don Pichon, a parilla (these restaurants specializing in grilled meats are everywhere in Argentina) that the chef at our hotel recommended. The waiter brought a table-top grill piled about half a foot high with several types of steaks, some lamb and also sausage (but no morcilla, or blood sausage, at our request) and what we later found out were intestines, although we didn’t eat the latter because we suspected it was something like that. The lamb, very popular in Argentina and especially Patagonia, was delicious and so were some of the steaks, but some were average – an experience we had several times during my 10 days in the country. The $12 bottle of wine – a Malbec-Syrah blend from Bodega del Fin Del Mundo – was a knock out.

Mendoza – Wine Lover’s Mecca

The day after Thanksgiving, Katy Jane and I reunited with Laura and Jess in Chacras de Coria, a suburb of Mendoza -- the heart of the Argentine wine country. We stayed in a precious little hotel, Lares de Chacras, within walking distance of the town plaza and casual restaurants with good simple food like pizza and fresh salads as well as more great $10 bottles of Malbec.

And now this is where I will apologize to Bob and Linny Fox and also August and Cindy Caimi for putting the girls in the position of being over served. If they were “born again” in Buenos Aires, in the Mendoza area, they fell off the path … under my watch. Sorry. I hired a driver for a day to take us to several vineyards including Achaval Ferrer, only six or seven years old but already regarded as one of the top quality producers in the country. We also went to an older, more traditional winery, Viña el Cerno, which was where the real over-serving occurred. We all agree it was the tour guide’s fault – he was insistent that we try 11 wines and we didn’t want to hurt his feelings by declining and especially by not finishing the half glass “tastes” he poured of each. We were not very productive the rest of the day.

But it’s amazing what a long, deep sleep in real beds can do! It’s also amazing how people everywhere kept wanting to overserve us. The next day, I went to the Andean foothills to mountain bike while the girls slept late, hung out at the hotel pool and make travel plans to get to Lima. That evening, we went into the city of Mendoza to check out the Vines of Mendoza tasting room, where we hooked up with a friend of a friend of mine who is the COO there. Well, one thing led to another and I am sure that you can figure out how the rest of the night went … and Jess had gnocchi, too.

Thanks, Jess, Katy Jane and Laura for allowing me to crash your trip. I had a blast with you!

Full of Thanks! By: Jess

2008-11-28T07:29:00.000-08:00

Though you might not believe it, experiencing Thanksgiving in another country drove home the actual spirit behind the holiday. Once the big meal, and the decorations, the football game and the general atmosphere of the holidays was stripped away, I really saw all that I had to be thankful for. To start the story of our Thanksgiving, it is important to note that Laura and I have been flying solo for a few days. Katy and Susie took off for a few days in Patagonia (to confirm the existence of penguins). As I type, Laura and I are waiting for them in a beautiful little bed and breakfast in Mendoza, Agentina. This is important because Laura and I cannot speak Spanish very well. Italian gets you only so far, but having Katy around (who DOES speak Spanish) is always a plus.

So, Laura and I, non-spanish speakers, had planned to spend Thanksgiving in a city called Cordoba. The second largest city in Argentina (after BsAs), and really the Boston of Argentina as it is famous for its universities and student culture. Our Thanksgiving morning actually started off quite pleasantly ... we woke up on the roof of our accomodations. It was HOT in Cordoba ... in the 90s, and there was simply no air flow in our room, so Laura and I decided to drag the mattress to the roof, and slept soundly and comfortably. We woke up very leisurely on Thanksgiving morning. Our plan for the day involved going to a museum, baking a pecan pie, and then sharing the pie (in true Turkey Day spirit) with a fellow traveller who had offered us dinner and conversation about New Zealand. Upon returning to our room however, we were immediately greeted with some unpleasant news. An Argentine (who, thankfully, spoke Italian) told us that a major bus strike was imminent, and unless we wanted to stay the entire weekend in Cordoba, we had better get ourselves to the bus station. Laura and I did not want to miss the weekend in Mendoza with Katy and Susie, so we packed our packs, sweating profusely in the heat, and grabbed a cab to the bus terminal. Thankfully, the strike had not yet started, and we managed to find the perfect bus out of Cordoba to Mendoza leaving at 10pm that night. We were even able to get a good price on a "cama" bus fare, which means that your chair folds almost flat and is ideal for overnight sleeping.

We bought the ticket, thrilled at our luck of having found someone who spoke Italian, who realized that it might be a good idea to tell us of the impending strike, and then happy with having found the perfect ticket. But. Now what? It was just barely noon and we had an entire 10 hours to kill. We ate a "feast" of bread and cheese and apples and orange soda ... purchased from the very shady supermarket in the bus station. It was NOT the thanksgiving meal we were used to, but luckily, the cheap cheese turned out to be surprisingly good, and we were both full after the meal. Sometime soon after eating, we realized that we had probably sweated away the meal and 10 pounds more just sitting in the airless bus station. Luckily enough, there just so happened to be one of the most famous parks in the city only 2 blocks away and we decided to head there for napping and sunbathing.

So you know exactly what our Thanksgiving "feast" looked like:
2 blocks to a park never sounds like a lot ... untill it is 95 degrees, and you are carrying a 20 plus pound backpack. We crashed in the first shady spot we found. Turns out that the spot was "shady" for a number of reasons. We had been lying around for 10 minutes when a police officer came riding up to us on his cute little bike and looked at us like we were crazy ... he quickly figured out that we werent from the area (surprised!?) and began to speak very slowly so we would understand. We had been lying around in a sort of peligroso (danger danger!) area of the park, and he suggested we move. How lucky for us. The last thing we needed was to lose our entire packs, which conventiently contain our entire LIVES.

We walked on, a little depressed at having to go on in the blistering heat, and wishing that we had cold water. The water in Laura´s bottle was actually close to boiling. LUCKILY, we managed to find the most beautiful rose garden, fenced in, abundant with shade. And would you believe that there was a COLD WATER fountain across the street? Just to make sure we were ok, our friendly police officer came back by on his bike and chatted us up for a few, being patient with our Italian/Spanish.

Around 8pm we decided to grab some dinner before getting on the bus. The restaurant we wanted wasnt open yet, so we went to a bar around the corner. When it came time to pay up, I only had a 100$ bill, and instead of telling me to deal with getting change myself ... the sweet Argentinian woman behind the bar told me to sit down while she walked down the street to get me change. The niceties only continue. When we finally made it to the restuarant, we realized that Laura´s phone was close to dead, and though we were a bit nervous about using our shotty Spanish to ask if we could please plug in our huge charger and phone to one of your outlets somewhere, we got nothing but smiles in response. Finally, after a delicious, dirt-cheap meal, we go to the bus station. We were cutting it a little close and the bus station is always confusing. After waiting in the wrong line a few minutes, someone, LUCKILY, just happened to notice our confusion, and pointed us exactly to our bus, which left maybe 45 seconds after we boarded.

The amount of people who have helped us for no reason on this trip has been incredible. The number of times we describe ourselves as "lucky" does not mean that we are not good travelers. Traveling is hard, and we get things right all the time. But everytime we have gotten something wrong, or had a wrinkle in our plans, someone with a smile has been there.

We realize just how much we are thankful for every single person who has helped us on the trip. People who stop us in the street, just because we are wearing backpacks, and ask us if they can be of assistance. We are also very thankful for the support from our friends and family at home ... who we miss and who we think about every single day.

Pictures of the fabulous sunset on the train from Buenos Aires, to Cordoba:

LOVE,
Jca

ps. marcus, I am clearly kicking the world in the booty. xoxo

Cultural Immersion -- birthday edition by Laura

2008-11-20T12:57:00.000-08:00

After ten days of toiling with the Krishnas we returned to Buenos Aires filled with youthful exhuberance and a desire to spend our days and nights in a sliiightly different manner from our time on the huerta. It is true that I have high expectations, yet I will freely admit that the three of us have been doing exceptional work keeping in line with the BsAs way of life. There have been, however, some casualities as all of a sudden, we are now really old...I was the last to succumb with today being my 23rd birthday. I am told memory is the first thing to go with old age, so I will begin the weekly recap with today. Dinner is being prepared to the sound of the Rolling Stones and is a symbolic culmination of our last few days spent in Belgrano -- an area of the city that is a bit quieter and residential, but will forever be known to us as CHINATOWN. For real, we found chinatown and it has served us right in every gastronomical aspect possible -- we not only found the first peanut butter that wasn't an 'import' (overpriced skippy) AND every type of spicy deliciousness possible. We have yet to emphasize our various challenges with the Argentine aversion for spice and our adoration of it. My salt addiction aside, we are all unaccustomed to garlic and black pepper being considered 'spicy'. Alas, for my birthday dinner tonight we are joining the forces of peanut butter and salsa picante to make dleicious Thai noodles (I am being told by the sous chef in the kitchen that it must be mentioned how delicious the smell is around us right now because a) they are cooking with ginger, mint, cilantro, and garlic b) they have talent c) it is springtime here and everything smells good).

Jess being especially excited that we found Chinese 'pasta de mani'

Our new Argentine friend, Juampi, examining his first experience with peanut butter and jelly

skeptical, yet satisfied!

Our culinary achievements aside, we have been engaging with the culture of Buenos Aires' past and present. We have been going to museums almost on the daily and have been putting our degrees to work (again) by discussing the artists, movements, and curatorial decisions made. The 'second most highly regarded fine arts museum of Argentina' is in Rosario and we enjoyed discussing the unique decision to add black shoe prints to the walls, the use of tattered and crooked wall labels, and hanging white paintings on white walls.

Rosario´s attempt at curating a museum show...I know I sound pretensious but that is what my education earned me.

Alternately, the 'most highly regarded fine arts museum of Argentina' here in BsAs had a great collection of Argentine and Latin American art spanning the last 500 years -- we especially enjoyed the contemporary art which lent itself to our better understanding of the local culture and how it differs from that which we are used to seeing in contemporary European and States art.

Two more ways in which we have embraced the Argentine culture is through lounging and dancing, and then dancing some more. Last week we went to a drum circle concert called 'la bomba del tiempo' that everyone (including us) from the States must tell their friends to go to, rightfully so, because we haven't heard so music English spoken since we began our travels. The concert was amazing although we were initially turned off by the idea of paying to go to a drum circle and being surrounded by hordes of dreadlocked kids and the wafting scent of patchouli. We danced and danced and then Jess and I joined in the all-male mosh pit finale because 1) we were the only girls big enough not to be mauled 2) girls that aren´t from the States just don't act like that. It was exhilirating and we emerged triumphant with raspy voices and dirty feet as our only casualities. On Jess' birthday we went to an 'after-office' party which are particularly popular on Wednesday nights and are the perfect place to go if you are interested in having middle aged men in suits breathily whispering sweet nothings on your neck and carressing your hair as you walk by. Needless to say, we soldiered on and danced, danced, danced.

For the weekend we headed West a few hours to Rosario -- a city often preferred over Buenos Aires for its slower pace of life and more manageable size; it is also home to the Stalin-esque monument to the national flag, which was undeniably impressive. Rosario is also well-known as it is situated next to the Rio Parana where we did much lounging in parks and on the beach (just for the cultural immersion, of course). The beach was really beautiful as it sits on the periphery of an undeveloped island on the opposite side of the river as the city. While in Rosario we danced (noticing a trend?), continued to observe that youth culture is pretty much the same regardless of country, and empanadas are easy to make and delicious to eat.

I will abruptly end this posting as we have actually already eaten our delicious dinner and must continue on with our exhilirating lifestyles!

A face that only a mother (and her two best friends, and the world) could love

Looking sagacious (because I am now 23) in a tree that is far older and more impressive than I am

Just before the birthday dinner!

for Marcus: jca 30 world 8!

Oh, Sweet Dirt! By: Katy Jane

2008-11-12T07:58:00.000-08:00

(Here is a picture of us and Edith in the bus station leaving Florianopolis. We've been unable to upload photos until now.)

First of all, today is Jess's birthday. She is 23, which oficially makes her a nonna like me. Soon, I will become a bisnonna, but that's not for a few months, so we'll cross that bridge when we get there.

Secondly, Obama won!!! We cried and cried and cried and even sobbed a little bit as Fox read us his acceptance speech from her Blackberry as we toiled in the fields under the hot Argentine sun. We're super excited and hope that he makes good on all his promises/ambitions.

Third, we have recently arrived back in Buenos Aires after nearly two weeks of working on an organic farm a few hours northwest of Buenos Aires. With some Hare Krishna's. Ideally, we hope to write a novella chronicling our time at Nueva Vrindana, but we'll give y'all a little taste of what we we've been up to for the last little bit.

We found the farm through a work exchnage program called WWOOF, Willing Workers on Organic Farms. The way the program works is that you buy this cheap booklet over the internet that lists, by country, a bunch of organic farms that want workers. Then you choose which farm you want to go to (some are dairy farms, some are fruit farms, some are vineyards) and then you write to them, tell them when you want to come, and then you get invited and then you go. And then you work. For eight hours a day. Under the sun. In a field. The reason we decided to do this is that in addition a desire to learn about organic farming, WWOOFing is a work exchange program, which means we work in exchange for room and board, i.e. it's free.

So, we decided to farm just outside of Buenos Aires, for proximity reasons, where there were only two farms (both run by radical relicious groups), one by Hare Krishna's and the other by a group called The 12 Tribes. We chose the Krishnas, and made our way our of BA by train, bus, and taxi out to their place. We arrived to find Sol, who ended up being our mama, but didn't speak any English, and she showed us to a little thatched roof casita, which was to be our home for the next few days. Almost immediatly, but only after a delicious vegetarian meal made by Mama Sol, we got to working in the huerta (vegatable garden). And thus began the toiling.

Our duties on the huerta seem pretty standard: desjujando (weeding); ponendo la aqua (watering), cubierto (mulch), y compost (compost); transplantando (transplanting); hacemos heramientos y cartillos (used farms tools and wheel barrows); y apremdemos algo de Castellano (learned some Spanish). Laura, who has never had any Spanish instruction, has put her Italian to use, picked up some key words, and will be soon be able to get by quite nicely in Spanish.

So we worked for four hours in the morning, siesta-ed four hours through the hot part of the day, and then worked for four more hours in the evening. Second to our routine of working and napping was our constant speculation about Krishna life, farm life, and how the two related. We like to think of our near constant specualtion as making good use of our liberal arts degrees, ie, we theorize about a situation, observe said situation, and put together the empirical data to draw some sort of decisive, and credible, conclusion. We win! In such a manner, we were able to answer all our own questions about life at Nuevo Vrindana. For example, why don't the toilets flush/where's the hot water? Is this a monastery, a farm, or a resort? What do the pretty virgins do all day and who are they texting? Is that really Hare Krishna themed rap music we hear? Isn't the food supposed to be delicious? Why are the sunsets so good here? Do they hate us, or just not speak English very well? What is the difference between the biointensive, biodiverse, and permaculture styles of farming? How does one sucessfully herd two large oxen from one space to the next without ruining the nearby playground? Why are puppies SO cute? Why are these Hare Krishnas so different than the ones we've come across in the US?

All of these questions were asked and some answered. Over the two weeks, we were forced to reconsider alot of our judgments, reconfigure our boundries, and reassess many things we thad hitherto taken for granted. One such example is cleanliness. As you might imagine, life on a farm isn't so clean. Life on a farm where you garden in bare feet and there is no soap in the bathrooms is dirty. Life on a farm where the water is sometimes cut off for no reason and you have to flush the toilet with a bucket of water is so far beyond what we generally accept as 'pleasantly rustic' that it actually made me cry one night. Our experience on the farm was not always easy, and we all had low moments where we cursed the farm, cursed the Krishnas, cursed the trip, and cursed our filthy dirty finger nails. Soon after, however, the Krishnas would make us some delicious juice, Sol would take us to her house to play with the 7 darling puppies her dog has just had, and we would sit on the porch of our little casita and watch the fireflies come to life over the garden with such vigor that the sight was like flying into New York City at night - a hundred thousand dancing lights blinking on and off.

Paradox marked our time on the farm, which can be summed up in two words: sweet dirt. When it came time to leave, we were both sad and ready. We learned a ton about biointensive farming, a system where ones puts the most amount of vegatables in the least amount of space to make optimal use of soil and water. We met the neighbors who have a dairy farm and fed us a delicious dinner of pizza with fresh cheese. We learned about Bahkti (devotional) yoga, mud ovens, Krishna-style vegetarian cooking (which, unfortunately, was not exaclty what we ate), some about the philosophical differences between Eastern and Western thought (in the West, we're obsessed with physical matter whereas in the East they are obsessed with consiousness), and of the breadth and variety of Hare Krishna themed music (rap, techno, singer-songwriter, indie, chanting). Also, and often in the forfront of our experience, the ever apparent differences between Northern and Southern American attidtudes on buisness/money management (we don't yet get the system here).

And now, for some pictures!

Here is the thatched roof casita where we lived, napped, and engaged with the local wildlife (ie, flies and mosquitoes, and other unmentionable things that rhyme with smockroaches).

Here we are with our Mama Sol on the last day. Notice our greasy, rugged complexions. We are obviously real farmers now.

Here we are watching the beautiful sunset.

Here we are driving into town ... in the back of a hippie VW van mixed in among the vegetables.
Happy and healthy

More evidence of the beautiful farm ... complete with a shot of the Hare Krsna temple.Jess and Katy toiling in the huerta.
farm life! complete with oxen.

And so goes the trip. More later. We apologize for the delay in posting, but have obviously been away from the internet for a while. We hope everyone at home is well and we love and miss you all. So be in touch! We're in BA for a few more days and then head north to Rosario for the weekend.

Love and hugs and kisses,
j, k, l

ps. for Marcus, us 23, world 7

are you my mommy? by Laura

2008-10-30T04:55:00.000-07:00

A successful tactic that we have established on our travels thus far is to cling to a mother figure during the more complicated and/or illogical maneuvers of life. Nasayers may think that this re-establishes our status as novice travelers, but , oh no, it is instead surely the sign of the savvy and efficient backpacker (with our packs this heavy, we cannot afford too many missteps). So in Floripa Edith made our experience not only memorable but possible in many ways, then on the not-so-easy border crossing between Brazil and Argentina another mother figure emerged in a worldly, post-military Israeli woman, and finally an Aussie on our bus into Buenos Aires helped to orient us in this very new city, although he was our age and a male, his mother-like actions were greatly appreciated. This computer is creating issues so the photos, map update, and a high quality post must be suspended for the time being. Today we leave Buenos Aires, of which we have gotten just the smallest taste, to go farming for two weeks at a permaculture farm on the outskirts of this fine city -- we are unsure of the accomodations and thus may be incommunicado for a while, but once we have the chance, we will let you all know what permaculture is, as we are equally curious.

And So Begins Week Two! By: Katy Jane

2008-10-28T10:11:00.000-07:00

Today marks not only the 14th day of our trip, but also the birth of Katie Bunny (a new nickname for Katie CA Katie, in order to differentiate her from me, Katy Jane). This morning we arrived in Buenos Aires via overnight bus from Puerto Iguazu. We are staying in a nice hotel for the occasion, plan to go out for dinner, and might even be putting on a little make up. We are joined here by Katie Bunny´s friend Justin, who has also been traveling around South America.

So much has happened since the last post, I´m not even sure where to begin the update! We spent a bit more time in Florianopolis after the last post, the highlights of which were meeting some very fun Brazilian frat boys, hearing an awesome DJ at an awesome club, and meeting our Brazilian grandma, Edith. Florianopolis is a city on an island called Santa Catarina, and has some of the best beaches in Brazil. The boys we met took us to one of them, and it was gorgeous, in spite of the fog and drizzle (which has been following us around until recently). Despite being unable to surf or sun bathe but we were glad to be in a nice, low key beach town.

On our second or third day in Floripa (which is what the locals call Florianopolis), we were at the grocery store shopping for our dinner, when we realized that we were getting side ways looks from an older lady, dressed all in blue. Oh no, we thought. We´re being the loud americans taking up all the space in the vegatable aisle, and we´re making this woman very, very angry. As we go to move and mumble apologies in Portuguese, we hear (with a slight southern twang), "Oh don´t wory about it girls, I´m just interested in hearing you speak English." This is how we met Edith, a smart, savy, worldly, generous and endlessly intersting woman who brought us a ton of sunshine in the middle of a literal rainstorm. In the veggie section, Editth told us of her education, and we of ours. Born in Brazil, but educated in the states, Edith came back to Brazil with a degres in Thanatology (the study of Grief) and a vision to start a church and eventually to open a home for the eldery. Towards the end of our grocery store discussion with Edith, after exchanging hugs and condensed life stories, we were invited to said home for lunch the next day.

Fast forward a bit, Edith picks us up and gives us a little tour of Floripa and takes us to the nursing home, where we are introduced to a ton of lovely, older Brazilians. We eat lunch with Edith and her friend Georgia, an America who followed her destiny, and her husband, to Brazil over forty years before. Lunch was great! Georgia told us all about her world travels, and we shared our travel plans with her. Edith intoduced us to all of her friends at the nursing home, all of whom were so excited to talk and include us in not only lunch, but also their city and to some extent, their lives.

After lunch, Edith invited us back to see her home, a gorgeous converted Azurean cabin (From the Azores, the islands of Portugal. Many came to Brazil and built these funny, sturdy little homes with no windows. Edith and her husband fixed theirs up and put in a TON of windows). We talked about politics in the US and Brazil, travel, Edith´s and her husbands work as missionaries, and ate delicious coffee flavored candies. We were so lucky to be able to sit around a darling living room and talk with smart, eloquent grownups with excelent opinions and wonderful insight. It was very refreshing after the frat boys, and reassuring in general that there are exceptional people in the world that the universe sometimes throws in one´s path. All day we spent with Edith, I kept säying "oh, we´re just the luckiest girls in the wholeworld. " And we are. Aswe finished out political discussion, and Georgia left to go home, Edtih offered not only to take us back to where we were staying, but insisted that we bring our laundry (now soaked after having been left out to dry.. in the rain) back to her house and use her dryer. The sggestion of which made us cry. Actually. There were tears in our eyes! How could someone be so graciosu and kind to 4 strangers! This was a lesson for us all to learn in pay-it-forward, and as Edith drid our wet clothes, she brought out a schmorgasboard of tea, and cookies, and hot choolate, and meat and cheese. And then we really were the luckiest girls in the world.

This serendipitious tea party marked the end out our time in Floripa. Edith helped us call the bus station to make arrangments to get to Iguazu Falls AND THEN she took us to the bus station after having made us a snack pack for the 14 hours overnight bus. Meeting and then leaving Edith were two of the happiest and saddest moments to far on the trip for us collectively. We had more adventures in Floripa, including an epic night at a night club (got in for free, danced all night, met the mayor, got into the VIP section, made some nice funny friends), but encounterng Edith really trumped evertying, in terms of life expereince.

Oh, I just realized I am short on time. We have some museum exploring to do today in Buenos Aires, so I will have to end this post here. We areall happy and healthy and so so so excited to be in the land of yerba mate, delicious breakfast croissants, and the best dulce de leche ever. I apologize for my spelling and typing errors - there is no spell check and I also can´t go back and edit for some reason, so all my mistakes have to stay. Please don´t thinkthat my four years of ocllege are in vain! Hope everyone is well well well!

Love and hugs and kisses,

j,k,k,l, and j

ps for marcus - world 4,us 10

Life Lessons Atop Death Mountain By: Jess

2008-10-24T07:47:00.000-07:00

Hello and Ciao to all.

This post has been a long time coming, but for a good portion of the last week we were sitting on buses, shuttling around Brazil. Buses here are actually quite nice - makes Greyhound look like traveling via dumpster.

Our last blog was from Rio de Janeiro the night before the epic party that was supposedly going to happen right outside the door of our hostel. The people at the hostel were not exaggerating. Literally RIGHT outside the hostel doors were probably 2000 people mingling and dancing and eating and drinking and just generally having a good time. They know how to party in Rio.

There was a group of guys on drums and a big dance circle formed around them. I am proud to say that I was the first of our group to jump in on the dancing, and I managed to pull the rest of the girls behind me. We also met two very nice British boys (John and John) , who joined in on the fun and served as excellent bodyguards throughout the night.

I think the cultural highlight of the time spent in Rio was seeing an art project called THE GREAT MADNESS. An artist decided to decorate a staircase with pieces of tile from all around the world. It is very much a living piece of art, because people send the artist tiles and he works them into the stairs. I found a tile from Los Angeles, Katy found one from Texas. Most of the countries from around the world were represented. I thought that the stairs looked familiar and it was driving me crazy where I had seen them before. We walked all the way up the stairs, and on the way down met the artist himself. My mystery deja-vu was solved when he showed us pictured of Snoop Dogg and Pharrell rapping on the stairs, and I remembered the scene from a music video.

I am proud to say that since then we have managed to make it most of the way across the country moving South and have seen two more Brazilian cities. After Rio we took a bus and then boat to the small island of Ilha Grande. The island is so small, there are no cars allowed and boats are the main form of transportation. Now, when Laura Fox (whom I love dearly) initially suggested visiting this quaint island, she mentioned that the main form of activity was "walking" to various beaches around the island. Me, the girl from LA, pictured a 15 minute walk through the sand, letting the waves spalsh on our feet, and then multiple hours of relaxing on the sand with bottles of beer, followed by a walk back to our hostel while watching the sunset.

Well. First of all the weather was not that great when we got to the island. It was misty and foggy and pouring rain, and anyone who knows me also knows that this is not ideal Jess weather, to say the least. Given the weather, I assumed that the plans for the walk and beach would be scrapped, and instead I could look forward to a day spent sleeping in and reading my Che Guevara. Imagine my surprise when Fox jumped out of bed at 8 AM and after a quick breakfast suggested that we get started on our day. We managed to talk her into a few more hours of sleep, but around 1030 she was suggesting activity again. It was decided that the weather was perfect for "trekking."

I would like to take a pause and again emphasize that I am from Los Angeles, CA. I do not use the word "trekking." Ever. Walking up the street to the Coffee Bean near my house is a pretty intense experience in the land of LA where most people would hop in their cars to drive up the block. I would also like to add that though I do a lot of yoga and consider myself fit, I am nowhere near the rowing, lifting weights, running and erging for miles machine that is the wonderful Laura Fox. I also had a serious injury in highschool that limits my ability to run, climb, jump, etc.

So here I am, wearing my brand-new, shiny "trekking" sandals, excited about the possibility of completing such a "trek" early on a misty, rainy morning in Ilha Grande, blindly following my leaders like a lemming. It became clear to me 10 minutes into this experience that perhaps, I was in over my head. The hills were steep and slippery. I was covered in mud and unidentifiable green gunk. I was hot and sweaty until the wind started blowing, then I was freezing. The entire purpose of the trek was to reach a waterfall that everyone on the island had told us was wonderful and worth the walk. After an hour or so of painful toiling, we reached a fork in the road. One arrow pointed up an almost sheer cliff and said "cachoeira" meaning waterfall. The other arrow pointed downhill and said "praia" meaning beach. To her credit, Laura did turn around and ask me if I was ok. In an effort not to be the loser I assured here that I could get up the hill, but it would take me twice as long to get down. We climbed up. I mean REAL climbing - like grasping at roots, scraping your knees, digging your fingernails into the mud for dear life, climbing. We made it to the top of what we dubbed Death Mountain. After continuing maybe another half hour we found the waterfall and after leaving the waterfall the immensity of the problem of getting down became real. It was getting later in the afternoon and the mist was rolling and the air was more damp. My calves were still quivering from the climb up. I was thirsty and hungry and tired. I tentatively took a step down Death Mountain, and nearly toppled over. It was just too steep and I was too top-heavy and it just wasn´t going to happen. But the girls encouraged me, so I decided to turn around and go rump-first down the mountain (feel free to insert any other word to substitute for rump, we already have and trust me the pictures are priceless but they are on a different camera without a proper USB cord unfortch). Things got worse before they got better. There was a moment when I was grabbing a vine with one hand, digging my hand into the ground with the other hand, stepping very close to a hole with TONS of spiders going in and out with one foot and blindly dangling my other foot backward down the slippery side of Death Mountain, there was this moment when I thought that the easier option would be to stay in the jungle forever, build myself a little hut, and eat berries for the rest of my life. But no. Laura Fox stayed no further than 3 feet away from me at all times. And every time I let out an expletive in pure terror, she said something encouraging. If it took 30 minutes to climb up Death Mountain, it took close to an hour to climb down Death Mountain. But, I did it. My parents and no one who knows me will ever believe it, but I really did it. And though I could hardly move the rest of the night, the experience was incredible. The views were amazing. I did some yoga moves on the very top of the waterfall. We saw monkeys, birds, and the tallest bamboo ever. The experience was so positive overall that I told Laura Fox she could force me into one near death "trekking" experience ever two months.

After leaving Ilha Grande (right when the sun came out) we rode buses FOREVER and overnight and got to Florianopolis, Brazil. Personally it reminds me of home. It is a very lively beach town (actually on an island) and the people are all laid back and friendly. We met a fun group of Brazilian boys and they promise to show us the nightlife. We also made friends with a 78 year old woman in the grocery store named Edith who was born in Brazil, raised in Virginia and Oklahoma and moved back to Brazil after college. She has invited us for lunch on Saturday and we are very much loo9king forward to it.

We will leave Sunday-ish for Iguassu Falls, and then bid Brazil goodbye for Agentina.

Hugs and kisses to all.

PS. For Marcus - JCA 7, WORLD 3 - i'm winning!
PSS. Perhaps we should be contacting our manager first, but we would like to pitch our idea to you for a reality game show inspired by the kitchen at our hostel on Ilha Grande. It will be referred to from here on out as "Apokatchen" due to its post-Apocalyptic amenities, ambiance, stench, and overall appearance (please reference photos below). So in this game show, teams will be assigned to a kitchen in such a style as this and will be forced to buy cooking supplies at a local market that consists mainly of mystery foods in a foreign language while only spending roughly 2 US dollars per team member to cook a nutritious, delicious, and filling meal. This game show would clearly pit teams against each other to create the best and most frugal meal possible while keeping their supplies from contracting any air-borne illnesses due to the preceding nuclear fall out. The show will clearly be most riveting when team members turn on each other while buckling under the pressures of accidentally purchasing the salted, rotting, unpackaged meat that is so alluring and omnipresent in Brazilian supermarkets when that weeks challenge was clearly to make a vegan stir fry! Alas, we are hoping to make enough money from this show idea to finance us staying at places not like this -- any takers? -- Laura

actually here!

2008-10-17T15:13:00.000-07:00

Yes, we have really started our adventures! we are on our third or fourth day of travel, depending who you ask, and thus far the count of world versus us is in our favor. Being here is surreal-- because the travels have truly happened but also because Rio de Janeiro is like nothing we have collectively known before. It has the touches and tastes of Miami, Italy, Mexico, etc but it is a singularly unique place. The people could not be more friendly -- very willing to help and respond to our mix of Spanish, Italian, and hand gestures. The landscape is beautiful with great beaches and little islands and jutting hills covered in rain forests.
We spent our first two nights on the beach trying to create a bit more of a vision for our time in Brazil and also enjoying the quieter beach neighborhood of Ipanema/Leblon, but today we have haphazardly decided to jump in head-first to Brazilian night life. Our hostel tonight is in Lapa which is in this funny quasi-gentrified neighborhood with decrepit art nouveau buildings directly next to the most unique looking church ever (we spent hours looking for the cathedral and discovered that it was the funny coned shape building just a few blocks away from our hostel -- it is shaped like a ziggarut and is very tall and imposing but inside it is dark and very reflective with brilliantly colored stained glass windows that rose the length of the interior) and filled with people from all different walks of life. So the big event tonight is an outdoor party that may reach 15,000 people, certainly a legitimate form of cultural immersion! There will surely be much to report on. Until then, Laura et al

PS -- we found Jesus yesterday! He is made of reinforced concrete and sits atop the tallest point in Rio

Field Test: Light Saber aka SteriPen By: Katy

2008-10-01T12:40:00.000-07:00

As seen in the last post, Jess came to visit me in Texas this past week. We did a lot of list making, trouble shooting, stressing/crying in inappropriate places, and adventure gear shopping. We also watched some cinematic gems, including Hugh Grant's stunning performance in About a Boy. Let me assure you - it was life changing! Also life changing, I filled up my backpack with a test run of the clothes I'm planning to bring and strapped it on and really looked like a for real traveler. Jess and I got all excited, jumped up and down and then promptly got really anxious. We also ate a TON of cheese and made some giant cookies. Good times...

I think the conceptual highlight (well, maybe most considered and perhaps belabored issue) of the week will be the focus of this post. It came to our attention this week that we, Jess, Fox, and I, are not totally invincible 20-somethings with stomachs of steel and super intestines to enable us utter gastric safety during the course of our travels in developing countries. The issue of water purification became paramount. After much internet research and discussion with the dudes at REI, Jess and I decided to forgo both filtration and chemical sterilization (we though bulk, bad taste, and the need for extra filters were all cons). We decided on a UV water purifier called the SteriPen, here after known as "the Light Saber," this little UV light gadget that you stick in any clearish water and turn on. In 90 seconds, it zaps all the creepy crawlies and then you can drink it and it works wonders.

Sounds like magic, huh? Too good to be true? In spite of our recent mortal revelations, Jess and I could not quash our ideas of invincibility and decided to temp a) fate, b) the warranty of our Light Saber, and c) our own constitution by promptly deciding to zap and drink a liter of purified lake water. The pictures and a video follow:

Here is Jess's newly purchased water bottle... and the lake.

This is my newly purchase water bottle (notice how they match..cute!) freshly filled with lake water (see the lake?). Note my feet in the water. And the dock. And the lovely tinge of the LAKE WATER we're about to consume... In addition to the fish that poop in this lake, my mom and her triathlete friends train/sweat/spit in it on a daily basis. YUM!

After an interlude in which we couldn't find any batteries AND learned of the potential stock market crash, Jess and I can finally use the Light Saber. Here, Jess is looking skeptical and/or idealistic.

MAGIC KILLS GERMS!!!11!11!

Here Jess just looks skeptical...

And here is the video of Jess making ME drink the water.

So, it tasted like lake water. It made Jess's teeth feel gross. It made my stomach all gurgly. I don't think, however, that I have contracted giardia. After this video, we tried very diligently to drink the rest of the water as we ate dinner, but ultimately decided that we didn't want to (not that we couldn't...). So we dumped that shit out and then drank some wine.

All in all, I think we're both pretty satisfied with the Light Saber. No sickness yet, so cross your fingers. 14 days until we land in Rio de Janeiro and so much to attend to!

More soon,

xoxoKatyJane

Three Weeks Out! By: Jess and Katy

2008-09-24T10:47:00.000-07:00

Yes, its true. Less than 3 weeks (by one day!) and we're totally terrified. And happy. Jess got to Katy's house in Austin, TX last night for a week of preparing together. We compared our backpacks and realized that we each have the wrong pack ... so thats great. Or maybe we both have the right pack, or we each have a variation of the same thing which is ultimately correct ...?? and thus begins the ambiguity and uncertainty. BRING IT.

ps. fox talking to you on the phone is insufficient as clearly we need you. book a flight. quick!

Is this really a good idea? By: Jess

2008-09-16T16:01:00.000-07:00

Here we are, September 16th, less than a month to departure, and I still ask myself daily if this whole "I am going around the world with my two best friends!" thing is really that great of an idea. At first, it all seems so simple. We hop on a plane, brand-new packs strapped to our eager backs, our heads bursting with ideas and destinations, our fresh, clean faces smiling and laughing in anticipation, and after we get off the plane we have the most idyllic, life-changing 12 months of our lives. Usually the introductory sections of travel books promises us just that. They even give us pages and pages of clean hostel rooms and friendly looking natives and colorful animals and ancient sites to marvel at. Simple.

However, after the first 50 pages or so, these shiny travel books of possibility tend to turn into dictionaries of death. They list EVERY disease that ANYONE has EVER contracted in the ENTIRE country and warn us to get shots IMMEDIATELY (Japanese Encephalitis, anyone?). They warn us against unstable local governments, pickpockets, having every single thing in our possession being stolen. Personally, the thought of giving up fashion for a year, and rotating three t-shirts was a horror I had to deal with months ago. And now, on top of the fashion crisis and potential coup d'etat , you are telling me that I might not be showering as regularly as I like? Is this really a good idea?

After graduating this past spring, we have each had our moments of ups and downs with the trip. The concept of the trip itself has also changed and morphed as we have researched and dreamed and talked about exactly what we want to do and see at this young, curious moment in our lives. Speaking for myself, I am not going to say that I was always, 100% sure of the logic of this whole trip idea. The more "logical" option was to do what around 80% of my graduating class did - move to a big city (New York City), get a good job (sell your soul to an investment bank) and be content with making a lot of money and hanging out with your friends from college who have joined you in similar pursuits (wish you had done something different with your life). But ultimately I don't think that either Katy, Laura or myself are willing to settle for that just yet, if ever. The world is so much bigger than Manhattan, or Los Angeles (its true!) and there are so many different opportunities out there that we can't even fathom as the young 22/23 year olds that we are. We want to go out and see some cool stuff, and we are ready for the downsides and hardships that go along with it. The key is be be happy and productive in the moment, and learn as much as we possibly can about ourselves and the great, big world.

And I think that the three of us can safely say just that when we ask ourselves if this is really a good idea. We are shooting for the stars here, people! We are doing something different! We are taking the road less traveled! We are hitting the curveball! We are doing that thing that cliches are born form, and poetry is written about!

In the end, I think this is truly the best idea ever.