The past week has been a whirlwind. I stole off into the dead of night after being hosted by another good friend currently living in London. I caught a late night / early morning flight to the beautiful city of Barcelona and thus began the next phase of my journey. Spain was unknown territory. I was finally out from under the safety net of family and friends and ready to try out "hostel living." I was a bit tentative at first but my wanderer spirit soon took hold.
To kick things off I caught Football Club Barcelona utterly destroy Sevilla in a Spanish La Liga match my first day in the city. It was incredible watching such high quality soccer, especially in a stadium like the Camp Nou. 80,000 Spaniards chanted and cheered on their home club for the full 90 minutes, taking extreme joy and delight in not just every goal scored, but in every well conceived combination of passes, displays of defense grit and determination, and any moments of creative brilliance or ingenuity. The fans in Barcelona truly appreciate beautiful football and I feel blessed to have been able to watch a match in their stadium.
In my hostel I was very lucky to be roomed with several other independent travelers from throughout the English speaking Diaspora. We all go on extremely well immediately - there was the Irishman looking to find work in Spain, the university student from Leeds, an American girl working as an au pair in France, a guy on vacation from work in Kansas City, and the New Zealander studying marine biology. We found great restaurants and tapas bars on quiet city side streets and sampled the Barcelona night life. It was sad to bode them all farewell...but the whole point of backpacking is to keep on the move.
After a very relaxing two days in the beautiful city of Valencia, I now find myself in Granada, a small town steeped in the history of the Christian and Moorish battles of the Medieval Period. I actually just got back from touring the Alhambra, an incredible palace/fortress built almost 1000 years ago by Muslim sultans. Both here and in Valencia I have crossed paths with very interesting people from all over the world.
But tomorrow is a new day, new people, and hopefully new adventure. Next stop: Portugal
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Touching Down in England (part 1)
I flew from Flint, Michigan to Atlanta and then connected with my flight to London. Suddenly I found myself surrounded by funny accents and British wit, ruddy English faces freshly burnt by Easter holidays spent at Disney World. The gentleman next to me seemed friendly enough, but promptly tried to hijack my armrest space as we settled into our seats. I readied my elbow to launch a counter assault but noticed his daughter peering in our direction, still clad in her Minnie Mouse ears. I let his digression in etiquette go without rebuke, reassuring myself that I simply wanted to spare this lad the disgrace of being embarrassed in front of his family, secure in the knowledge that I could easily win back my rightful space on the armrest with a minimum of effort.
I readied myself for landing in England by picking the most appropriate movie selection provide by Delta (which, by the way, was extensive.) As we took off from Atlanta and began to cruise high above the east coast of the United States, I turned my attention to RockNRolla, Guy Ritchie's most recent British crime drama, full of gritty scenes of London's criminal underworld, fast talking, cool mob types, Russian billionaire investors, Ludacris and Jeremy Piven playing Americans in over their heads and Idris Elba getting to try on his natural British criminal swagger in lieu of his previous role as the very American criminal Stringer Bell on The Wire. People got shot, the plot twisted and turned, cool music and accents rang through the film, and I knew I was ready. All that cinematic action got me in the perfect mindstate England to take the island by storm the following morning. However, I couldn't fall asleep and proceeded to watch Don Cheadle in Traitor, Jim Carrey in Yes Man, and Leonardo di Caprio and Russell Crowe in Body of Lies. I sincerely enjoyed all of the movies (even though the plane landed before I finished Body of Lies) and arrived at 7am at London Gatwick Airport impressed by the quality of Delta Airlines' in-flight entertainment offerings...but also severely jetlagged.
to be continued...
I readied myself for landing in England by picking the most appropriate movie selection provide by Delta (which, by the way, was extensive.) As we took off from Atlanta and began to cruise high above the east coast of the United States, I turned my attention to RockNRolla, Guy Ritchie's most recent British crime drama, full of gritty scenes of London's criminal underworld, fast talking, cool mob types, Russian billionaire investors, Ludacris and Jeremy Piven playing Americans in over their heads and Idris Elba getting to try on his natural British criminal swagger in lieu of his previous role as the very American criminal Stringer Bell on The Wire. People got shot, the plot twisted and turned, cool music and accents rang through the film, and I knew I was ready. All that cinematic action got me in the perfect mindstate England to take the island by storm the following morning. However, I couldn't fall asleep and proceeded to watch Don Cheadle in Traitor, Jim Carrey in Yes Man, and Leonardo di Caprio and Russell Crowe in Body of Lies. I sincerely enjoyed all of the movies (even though the plane landed before I finished Body of Lies) and arrived at 7am at London Gatwick Airport impressed by the quality of Delta Airlines' in-flight entertainment offerings...but also severely jetlagged.
to be continued...
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Londontown
Arrived in London. Cloudy skies, funny accents and fried English breakfasts. More to come soon.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Carnaval 2k9 Megamix
Three years ago when I first traveled through Bahia a friend and I dreamed of one day remaking our own Salvador version of Snoop Dogg and Pharrell's "Beautiful" video. Those cinematic ambitions never truly came to fruition, but this year I tried to make a multimedia homage to the sights, sounds and people that made Carnaval 2009 an unforgettable experience. Obrigado Salvador.
And make sure to click HQ to watch the video in high quality!
And make sure to click HQ to watch the video in high quality!
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Developments Down South
I came across some interesting Latin American references in the news over the past week. The New York Times travel section had a very interesting article on tourism in Costa Rica. The city Turrialba, mentioned for its white water rafting and growing reputation as a destination for adventure tourists, is a short bus ride from the small town of Pacayitas de la Suiza, where my host family from Costa Rica resides.
Also, the Washington Post had a very interesting story about very interesting political happenings in Columbia. Apparently the potential for a free trade agreement between our government and that of Columbia has given particular elements within our governement the ability to pressure Columbian authorities to promote human rights for Afro-Colombians. Plantation owners that previously helped support the intimidation and murder of many black farmers in Colombia are now being investigated and many of the farmers who were ran off their farms are getting the opportunity to return to their land. Members of the congressional black caucus have spearheaded the effort to leverage the trade partnership to support the rights of African descendants in Columbia. "Free trade" and free trade agreements are complex and controversial political topics, but at the very least this article demonstrates the potential benefits that can be derived when open markets are accompanied by social responsibility and a dedication to human rights
And just to keep Brazil in the mix, according to the Financial Times, President Lula has officially blamed white people for the global financial crisis. I'm not sure if that's the most politically tactful way to approach the situation...but it's good for a few headlines.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Pura Vida (Rediscovered)!
I'm still figuring out the next leg of my travels. And while looking through old files on my computer I came across a short piece I wrote almost 5 years ago about my first international experience (sans parents) when I spent a summer in Costa Rica teaching English. The article was my first stab at travel writing and was published in the illustrious Ron Brown Scholars Newsletter. If you want to read the story in all of its pdf greatness, click here (There are some pretty cute pictures of the kids I was teaching.) But I have also included the article below:
***
I am not a morning person. At home and at school I typically press the snooze button on my alarm a dozen times. I need to take a fifteen-minute shower before I can create cogent sentences, and am still not very friendly until I have completely digested a full breakfast.
Unfortunately, Costa Ricans love the morning. Before the sun reaches the horizon, the call of the family rooster breaks the night’s silence. Feeling left out, all the neighborhood dogs chime in and contribute to the daily morning symphony that, without fail, broke my peaceful slumber every day I spent in Central America. My host mother was always scurrying around the house at what I considered the wee hours of the morning, preparing for the next day. My host father was usually working in the fields of coffee and sugar cane before I even groggily realized the day had begun. During the daily ritual in which I struggled to stay awake while eating my breakfast, my host sister was typically already leaving for school with her classmates. This, however, was especially problematic because I was usually the person teaching her first hour English class.
Despite my loathing of early mornings, my teaching schedule in Costa was the easiest adjustment I needed to make. Simply getting to my home in Pacayitas de La Suiza, a tiny town in the central highlands of Costa Rica, was an adventure in and of itself. I remember myself struggling in the dust and heat of a blazing Central American afternoon, trying to find my bearings while dragging around an unnecessarily large suitcase. I darted in and out of speeding cars through streets and alleys seemingly unregulated by traffic lights and signs. I asked for directions in halting Spanish and then feigned understanding when their responses came either too quickly or in an incomprehensible accent. I worried that I may never find my bus stop, and might become an American casualty forever lost in the confusion of the Costa Rican streets.
Finally, like all my travels in Costa Rica, I made it to my destination. I became more confident with my Spanish and eventually learned to move to the rhythm that embodies life in the small nation. This typified my experience this summer. As my American sensibilities began to wear off and I let myself become immersed in my environment, things began to make sense. I no longer worried if all my students fully comprehended object pronouns and verb conjugation. Late buses or forgotten appointments did not get under my skin. My daily thirty minute walk through mountainous terrain became customary, and the morning crow of the rooster actually grew to become comforting in its regularity.
Costa Rica made me adaptable. I learned how to traverse new cultural guidelines and societal standards while still being myself. I became flexible, understanding, and appreciative of all the little pleasures of life in a tiny rural village. Soon I forgot about the long lines at the lone public phone in the town. The constant buzzing of insects began to fade into the background. To the slight chagrin of my supervisor at school, I even began to personify the extremely laid back sensibility that defines life for most in Costa Rica.
Slowly but surely, I became more than just the American in town. I became a fixture at town bailes (parties) and was a regular in the daily mejingas (soccer matches) in the plaza. Students began to solicit my conversation for more than just naughty English words or help with their assignments. As I grew in tune with the daily flow and gossip of the town, I was treated as a confidant and as an equal. I was involved in everyday life in the community, and at brief instances, I feel many people almost began to forget I was a foreigner. And inevitably, as I was readying myself to leave, I realized that I had built genuine relationships in my community. Now as I reminisce on my time spent in Costa Rica, it almost seems as if I am remembering an alternate lifetime. Off in a distant land I picture my other family back home in Pacayitas, living without me and adjusting to the lack of my presence. I feel connected to another world. This process of growth and complete international immersion has given me a depth of perception unavailable in the relative isolation I experienced in America. Costa Rica has given me a taste of the international experience. Now that I feel at home in both the United States and my small community of Pacayitas, where am I going to explore next?
***
I am not a morning person. At home and at school I typically press the snooze button on my alarm a dozen times. I need to take a fifteen-minute shower before I can create cogent sentences, and am still not very friendly until I have completely digested a full breakfast.
Unfortunately, Costa Ricans love the morning. Before the sun reaches the horizon, the call of the family rooster breaks the night’s silence. Feeling left out, all the neighborhood dogs chime in and contribute to the daily morning symphony that, without fail, broke my peaceful slumber every day I spent in Central America. My host mother was always scurrying around the house at what I considered the wee hours of the morning, preparing for the next day. My host father was usually working in the fields of coffee and sugar cane before I even groggily realized the day had begun. During the daily ritual in which I struggled to stay awake while eating my breakfast, my host sister was typically already leaving for school with her classmates. This, however, was especially problematic because I was usually the person teaching her first hour English class.
Despite my loathing of early mornings, my teaching schedule in Costa was the easiest adjustment I needed to make. Simply getting to my home in Pacayitas de La Suiza, a tiny town in the central highlands of Costa Rica, was an adventure in and of itself. I remember myself struggling in the dust and heat of a blazing Central American afternoon, trying to find my bearings while dragging around an unnecessarily large suitcase. I darted in and out of speeding cars through streets and alleys seemingly unregulated by traffic lights and signs. I asked for directions in halting Spanish and then feigned understanding when their responses came either too quickly or in an incomprehensible accent. I worried that I may never find my bus stop, and might become an American casualty forever lost in the confusion of the Costa Rican streets.
Finally, like all my travels in Costa Rica, I made it to my destination. I became more confident with my Spanish and eventually learned to move to the rhythm that embodies life in the small nation. This typified my experience this summer. As my American sensibilities began to wear off and I let myself become immersed in my environment, things began to make sense. I no longer worried if all my students fully comprehended object pronouns and verb conjugation. Late buses or forgotten appointments did not get under my skin. My daily thirty minute walk through mountainous terrain became customary, and the morning crow of the rooster actually grew to become comforting in its regularity.
Costa Rica made me adaptable. I learned how to traverse new cultural guidelines and societal standards while still being myself. I became flexible, understanding, and appreciative of all the little pleasures of life in a tiny rural village. Soon I forgot about the long lines at the lone public phone in the town. The constant buzzing of insects began to fade into the background. To the slight chagrin of my supervisor at school, I even began to personify the extremely laid back sensibility that defines life for most in Costa Rica.
Slowly but surely, I became more than just the American in town. I became a fixture at town bailes (parties) and was a regular in the daily mejingas (soccer matches) in the plaza. Students began to solicit my conversation for more than just naughty English words or help with their assignments. As I grew in tune with the daily flow and gossip of the town, I was treated as a confidant and as an equal. I was involved in everyday life in the community, and at brief instances, I feel many people almost began to forget I was a foreigner. And inevitably, as I was readying myself to leave, I realized that I had built genuine relationships in my community. Now as I reminisce on my time spent in Costa Rica, it almost seems as if I am remembering an alternate lifetime. Off in a distant land I picture my other family back home in Pacayitas, living without me and adjusting to the lack of my presence. I feel connected to another world. This process of growth and complete international immersion has given me a depth of perception unavailable in the relative isolation I experienced in America. Costa Rica has given me a taste of the international experience. Now that I feel at home in both the United States and my small community of Pacayitas, where am I going to explore next?
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Options
I've been spending a lot of time in the past few days trying to figure out the next step in the journey. There are some other places in the Americas that I would love to explore but I'm also tempted to head directly across the pond and try my look in Europe, Africa and the Middle East. Thoughts? Suggestions?
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