It’s funny the times it hits me. I was reading The Economist in a rainy tent in Torres Del Paines, Chile, Patagonia. The article was about the woman P.M. in Bangladesh. It’s sort of a wave and shiver. It’s honestly a feeling I have never felt in my entire life and really something I genuinely never expected myself to feel. It’s shocking and I don’t wuite know what to do with it- do I embrace it? Because I have been so adamant not to in the past, the acceptance is tentative. Extremely tentative. What do I do with this new feeling that I am actually proud to be an American?
We have a new president. Bush/Satan is out, Obama is in. I actually get goosebumps when I think about it. I’m so used to being apologetic for being American. I have actually never felt American. It was always them and me, especially out traveling the world. I always felt that I should have been born in another country. I don’t associate with being an American at all.
But sometimes, I realize that me, in another country with my very American pony tail or pigtails and my Nalgene water bottle, I really can’t escape it.
Still, people would ask me where I’m from. “The U.S., sorry, don’t hate me.” It’s a shitty thing to feel like you have to apologize for your country, but somehow the U.S. has this unprecedented status in the world.
I’ve always felt like the U.S. was a place I had to escape. I was ashamed and disgusted. So now, all of the sudden, I want to work for the State Department?! I’m not sure how to deal with these new feelings. My aversion to my country my whole life has been so strong that it has been a catalyst and driving force in my need to travel.
But I am also privileged to have the ability to travel. I have a great life and so much of that has been because of the country I have been born into. I act like a spoiled child by shunning it. Thus the inner turmoil.
When I was in Zimbabwe talking politics with my friend Kenny, I remember how patriotic he was. He lives under one of the world’s most evil and oppressive dictators, his beautiful country in shambles, but he tells me he would never leave. He loves his country.
The hatred that burns i8n my bones to a physical extent, that catches in my stomach and makes me see how violence towards a human being could be conceivable that I have for Bush, Cheney and Administration seems unfair when I am looking for food but the grocery store shelves are almost completely empty in Kenny’s country. But still the venom for me is there and it is palpable.
“Don’t you think you can love a country even if you hate its leader?” Kenny asks me.
I feel like I have been slapped in the face.
But my country elected the leader (sort of) so is it different? Still I feel spoiled and ashamed, but now what do I do with this new feeling? I can physically feel a load removed from my shoulders. My identity built around being a reluctant American needs to evolve because I am proud.
I am an American and my president, MY president (Bush was never my president, I said I’d leave if he got re-elected and I did and spent as much time as possible away while he was in office), my president, is Barak Obama. I don’t expect miracles, he’s only human, but I have hope. And now the way I relate to the world and my country is markedly different. But how, I am not quite sure yet.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Torres del Paine (Chile)
“Everyone builds it up in their heads that Patagonia is one of the most extreme places in the world. Well, I hate to break it to you, but the only thing extreme about Patagonia is the weather.” A local guide told us.
He was right. We were expecting Himalayas and steep trails but the elevation is near sea level and plenty of people hike the popular Torres Del Paines loop. But the lack of difficulty made it no less wonderful.
I was constantly stuck by moments of awe in such magnanimous and unapologetic beauty. Nature is to me what church is to the religious, and lets just say, Patagonia is quite the temple.
It’s a good thing it wasn’t too difficult to hike either because my epic foot issues continue and, long story short, I was hiking in sandals almost the whole time. Never once did I see anyone in anything less than hiking boots.
The best part of Torres is the stunning natural beauty. The worst part is the weather. The wind was some of the most horrendous I have ever experienced, the cold made camping not so fun and made me not want to leave my sleeping bag or tent, and the rain spoiled some of the views. But still, it’s Patagonia and I am out in nature, my favorite place to be so I can hardly complain.
I saw my first glacier. I found a back path, twisting along the lake. Grey’s glacier is caught by land, but spills down on either side. The lake it runs into is an ethereal blue that only glaciers can attain. Icebergs float in the water, massive chunks of ice- ice cubes for giant’s margaritas. I could hear only my own breath and footsteps over the roaring wind as I twisted my way around the path, overgrown with roots and green shrubs, pediatric trees.
I couldn’t fathom how big the glacier was. I broke around the corner and saw it full out, unobstructed, nothing but me, then rock, then glowing water, then ice. The glacier melts into the lake with shades of blue I didn’t know existed. The most brilliant blue is the blue raspberry of icy-pops I used to have as a kid.
The Patagonia wind picked up. I literally couldn’t stand, it almost didn’t allow me to kneel down. I had heard horror stories of full grown men with their packs being swept up by this ridiculous wind. I laid flat and gripped with my nails to not be blown off the rocks. It was the most extreme wind I’ve ever felt and a wave of fear welled up in me. I clung tighter. Beauty can lull me, but it is also deceitful.
Wind aside, the views were incredible. The variation in landscape was incredible. The area is covered in lakes. There was this great rainbow over one and the snow capped peaks in the distance, huge stony mountains covered in glacier behind me. I walked along the lake shore which was all these white stones next to the grey-blue water. I could see the other lake, this brilliant turquoise blue far away after these rolling green hills. The huge tower was lost in ominous and stormy clouds, it almost looked like it was smoking.
The Torres themselves are stoic and imposing. They demand attention, and attention they receive. The great part of the hike is that it lets you see the towers from all sorts of angles. Lakes and rock and glaciers were amazing, but so was the vast quantity of water.
The rivers in Torres were brutal. It is one of the last places on earth you can drink water right from the river and there was something great about filling my water bottle up in the river and drinking straight from it, nice and cooled for me already, nature’s refrigerator. The water in some of the rivers is this glacial grey, but so turbulent it’s almost all whitecaps. It flows and bubbles in pockets of turbulence, some areas more grey, others varying densities of white. It showers over the rocks, indifferent to anything in its way.
The wooded areas are full of twisty trees, their mossy bark slowly peeling and folding away. Tiny yellow leaves are left over from last fall, too early for this one, carpet the ground among stones and roots.
Leaving the park was sad. There is something hard about leaving nature and heading back to the city. It’s almost like a small death. A quiet one, but still a real loss.
He was right. We were expecting Himalayas and steep trails but the elevation is near sea level and plenty of people hike the popular Torres Del Paines loop. But the lack of difficulty made it no less wonderful.
I was constantly stuck by moments of awe in such magnanimous and unapologetic beauty. Nature is to me what church is to the religious, and lets just say, Patagonia is quite the temple.
It’s a good thing it wasn’t too difficult to hike either because my epic foot issues continue and, long story short, I was hiking in sandals almost the whole time. Never once did I see anyone in anything less than hiking boots.
The best part of Torres is the stunning natural beauty. The worst part is the weather. The wind was some of the most horrendous I have ever experienced, the cold made camping not so fun and made me not want to leave my sleeping bag or tent, and the rain spoiled some of the views. But still, it’s Patagonia and I am out in nature, my favorite place to be so I can hardly complain.
I saw my first glacier. I found a back path, twisting along the lake. Grey’s glacier is caught by land, but spills down on either side. The lake it runs into is an ethereal blue that only glaciers can attain. Icebergs float in the water, massive chunks of ice- ice cubes for giant’s margaritas. I could hear only my own breath and footsteps over the roaring wind as I twisted my way around the path, overgrown with roots and green shrubs, pediatric trees.
I couldn’t fathom how big the glacier was. I broke around the corner and saw it full out, unobstructed, nothing but me, then rock, then glowing water, then ice. The glacier melts into the lake with shades of blue I didn’t know existed. The most brilliant blue is the blue raspberry of icy-pops I used to have as a kid.
The Patagonia wind picked up. I literally couldn’t stand, it almost didn’t allow me to kneel down. I had heard horror stories of full grown men with their packs being swept up by this ridiculous wind. I laid flat and gripped with my nails to not be blown off the rocks. It was the most extreme wind I’ve ever felt and a wave of fear welled up in me. I clung tighter. Beauty can lull me, but it is also deceitful.
Wind aside, the views were incredible. The variation in landscape was incredible. The area is covered in lakes. There was this great rainbow over one and the snow capped peaks in the distance, huge stony mountains covered in glacier behind me. I walked along the lake shore which was all these white stones next to the grey-blue water. I could see the other lake, this brilliant turquoise blue far away after these rolling green hills. The huge tower was lost in ominous and stormy clouds, it almost looked like it was smoking.
The Torres themselves are stoic and imposing. They demand attention, and attention they receive. The great part of the hike is that it lets you see the towers from all sorts of angles. Lakes and rock and glaciers were amazing, but so was the vast quantity of water.
The rivers in Torres were brutal. It is one of the last places on earth you can drink water right from the river and there was something great about filling my water bottle up in the river and drinking straight from it, nice and cooled for me already, nature’s refrigerator. The water in some of the rivers is this glacial grey, but so turbulent it’s almost all whitecaps. It flows and bubbles in pockets of turbulence, some areas more grey, others varying densities of white. It showers over the rocks, indifferent to anything in its way.
The wooded areas are full of twisty trees, their mossy bark slowly peeling and folding away. Tiny yellow leaves are left over from last fall, too early for this one, carpet the ground among stones and roots.
Leaving the park was sad. There is something hard about leaving nature and heading back to the city. It’s almost like a small death. A quiet one, but still a real loss.
Here we go Again
Back on the road again. I am finishing the third part of this trip in South America. The plan is to go basically from Antarctica back to CO overland. We will see if it happens or not!
So far I love South America. It is nice to sort of speak the language. It is different than traveling in other countries because I have not felt like a single person has tried to cheat me here. The locals are so friendly, I can’t get out a map without at least one person asking me if I need help. Nobody wants a commission, they just offer to help and then leave. There is very little English spoken here, almost none, but that is good for me trying to improve my Spanish!
People are incredibly welcoming. On inaguration day, after watching it all, Colleen and I went back to the guesthouse we were staying at. The family that runs it had glasses of beer ready for us to celebrate. They insisted that we join them that night for an Obama Party/Feast. We sat out in this back shed with an open fire cooking this crazy food that is actually typical on the island of Chiloe, potato and flour mashed up and put on this huge, maybe 7 foot rolling pin to cook. (My neck was hurting so I didn't make it to the end to see how it turned out). They plied us with beer and warm converstation. It was fantastic to hang out with a family like that.
Another time, the same day actually, Colleen and I were sitting by the bay speaking English. A man heard us while he was on his way home from a journey but he plopped his bag down and sat next too us, talking until it was too cold for us to sit there anymore. At a hostel we were staying at in Punta Arenas, the guys there bent over backwards to help us. One guy gave me his favorite necklace while I was leaving because he said I was the funniest and nicest girl he has ever met and he was sad I was going. I about cried right there because he had been so helpful and interesting to me. Another guy there had seen our cheap bottle of wine and before he left he bought us each small bottles of nice wine.
Nobody has given off any sort of feeling that their intentions were anything but pure. I have become quite hardened and suspicious in my years of travel, but there seems to be nothing to be on guard about here, just genuine people wanting to talk and include as and willing to put up with my appalling Spanish.
I have focused my time in Chile so far. I was so happy to meet back up with the love of my life, Colleen. It is so different to travel with someone else and recently I have realized that for some reason I seem to make things much harder than I have to by myself by traveling so cheaply and traveling alone. I do enjoy traveling alone and wouldn’t change the things I have done in the past for the world, but it is also nice to feel like I no longer have to prove to myself that I am independent.
I am also on somewhat of an anti-social kick, not really wanting to drink or party or even hang out with many other travelers. I feel like I am at a point where I would rather talk to locals or be alone, and don't get me wrong, that sounds horrible. I am just trying to focus on being professional and writing a lot more on this trip, and I am so sick of 2 years of the same conversations you have with other travelers. "Where are you from? Where are you going? How long have you been traveling for? Where have you been?" So it has been really good to have Collleen there who really knows me so I am not completely a loner. But I have decided this trip is more about professionalism and internal things than external.
So South America has been more fun and less difficult so far. Sadly, Colleen and I split up tomorrow. But so far we have been to the colorful city of Valparaiso, then on to the more remote island of Chiloe. On Chiloe we explored the national park there and spent a day talking on one of the most amazing beaches I have ever seen. Now that is happiness.
After a 36 hour bus ride to Patagonia (the first of many and nowhere near the longest) we explored Punta Arenas and spent a lot of time in Puerto Natales. I just got back from a 5 day backpacking trip in Patagonia. We had an incredible time hiking through Torres Del Paines, up Grey’s Glacier and camping in the park. Next I head to Ushuaia, the southern-most city in the world, my jumping off point to Antarctica.
It is good to be back on the road and to begin to think about how my trip is going to end. It has been quite the journey and part of me is terrified to think about trying to re-integrate into a normal life at home. But visits home have helped and I have found more reasons to stay, though I fear part of my heart will always be on the road.
Evaluating how the last year and a half of travel has been, I still have some regrets and feel like I regressed, but all I can do is move on from here, and everything has so far turned out better than I ever could have expected in the end. I have learned that it is much easier to say you will follow your heart than to actually do it at times, especially for someone as nostalgic and attached as I am. Sometimes it is hard to let go, even though you know it is for the best and it is what you want to do. I also learned I need to really stick to my intuition. Like, why did I change my mind and decide to go to Europe even though I knew that was a terrible idea and setting me back in my quality of life? Live and learn I suppose. But that is still frustrating to feel like I harmed myself so much when there was no reason to and I was not being true to myself.
But it was good to get back on track. And I trust that the answers will be clear someday and hope I can continue to trust in life. And really good to once and for all get rid of things in my life that were dragging me down for way too long. Long overdue for that one, but what can I say, I’m a difficult case.
Don’t get me wrong though, I love my life. I was hiking in Patagonia next to this huge glacier the other day and I got to thinking. How on earth did I get to be so lucky? Reflecting on the last year and a few months alone, I have been to places like the Serengeti, the Himalayas, the Sahara and Patagonia. I go to Antarctica in a couple days. I have trained horses in South Africa, been tear-gassed, ridden water-buffalo and camels, cage-dived with great white sharks, interviewed refugees as they fled with nothing but what was on their backs, drank mint tea with turbaned men in Morocco, played with children in the slums of Kibera at an orphanage, slid down sand dunes, meditated along the Ganges, saw lions in the wild and was bartered over to be married off for 100 camels and 20 horses to an Egyptian man.
There are stamps in my passport from Namibia, Kosovo, Zambia, Bosnia, El Salvador, Ethiopia. How on earth did I get so lucky? I don’t know how I worry about anything .I look at my life and have nothing but gratitude for not only all the things that I have been fortunate enough to do, but for my family and everyone at home and the people I have met along the way that make my life worthwhile. I care about them more than words could express. And I am so incredibly lucky to have this amazing mom that supports me in absolutely everything that I do. Life is good, so I need to learn to let go and enjoy things more.
I am excited to see how the final leg of my trip turns out. I want to focus on strengthening, healing, passion, lightness and adventure. I want to do random things I never thought I would do. Instead of asking “why?” I want to ask myself, “Why not?”
And here I jump into this last leg of my trip, with some sadness that it is the last, but also hoping for some miracles and at the very least, incredibly happy with my life.
My mom sent me a card with a quote that I always want to keep at the forefront of my mind:
When you come to the edge
Of all the light
You’ve known,
And are about to step off
Into the darkness of the
Unknown,
Faith is knowing one of two things will happen,
There will be something
Solid to stand on or
You will be taught
How to fly
So far I love South America. It is nice to sort of speak the language. It is different than traveling in other countries because I have not felt like a single person has tried to cheat me here. The locals are so friendly, I can’t get out a map without at least one person asking me if I need help. Nobody wants a commission, they just offer to help and then leave. There is very little English spoken here, almost none, but that is good for me trying to improve my Spanish!
People are incredibly welcoming. On inaguration day, after watching it all, Colleen and I went back to the guesthouse we were staying at. The family that runs it had glasses of beer ready for us to celebrate. They insisted that we join them that night for an Obama Party/Feast. We sat out in this back shed with an open fire cooking this crazy food that is actually typical on the island of Chiloe, potato and flour mashed up and put on this huge, maybe 7 foot rolling pin to cook. (My neck was hurting so I didn't make it to the end to see how it turned out). They plied us with beer and warm converstation. It was fantastic to hang out with a family like that.
Another time, the same day actually, Colleen and I were sitting by the bay speaking English. A man heard us while he was on his way home from a journey but he plopped his bag down and sat next too us, talking until it was too cold for us to sit there anymore. At a hostel we were staying at in Punta Arenas, the guys there bent over backwards to help us. One guy gave me his favorite necklace while I was leaving because he said I was the funniest and nicest girl he has ever met and he was sad I was going. I about cried right there because he had been so helpful and interesting to me. Another guy there had seen our cheap bottle of wine and before he left he bought us each small bottles of nice wine.
Nobody has given off any sort of feeling that their intentions were anything but pure. I have become quite hardened and suspicious in my years of travel, but there seems to be nothing to be on guard about here, just genuine people wanting to talk and include as and willing to put up with my appalling Spanish.
I have focused my time in Chile so far. I was so happy to meet back up with the love of my life, Colleen. It is so different to travel with someone else and recently I have realized that for some reason I seem to make things much harder than I have to by myself by traveling so cheaply and traveling alone. I do enjoy traveling alone and wouldn’t change the things I have done in the past for the world, but it is also nice to feel like I no longer have to prove to myself that I am independent.
I am also on somewhat of an anti-social kick, not really wanting to drink or party or even hang out with many other travelers. I feel like I am at a point where I would rather talk to locals or be alone, and don't get me wrong, that sounds horrible. I am just trying to focus on being professional and writing a lot more on this trip, and I am so sick of 2 years of the same conversations you have with other travelers. "Where are you from? Where are you going? How long have you been traveling for? Where have you been?" So it has been really good to have Collleen there who really knows me so I am not completely a loner. But I have decided this trip is more about professionalism and internal things than external.
So South America has been more fun and less difficult so far. Sadly, Colleen and I split up tomorrow. But so far we have been to the colorful city of Valparaiso, then on to the more remote island of Chiloe. On Chiloe we explored the national park there and spent a day talking on one of the most amazing beaches I have ever seen. Now that is happiness.
After a 36 hour bus ride to Patagonia (the first of many and nowhere near the longest) we explored Punta Arenas and spent a lot of time in Puerto Natales. I just got back from a 5 day backpacking trip in Patagonia. We had an incredible time hiking through Torres Del Paines, up Grey’s Glacier and camping in the park. Next I head to Ushuaia, the southern-most city in the world, my jumping off point to Antarctica.
It is good to be back on the road and to begin to think about how my trip is going to end. It has been quite the journey and part of me is terrified to think about trying to re-integrate into a normal life at home. But visits home have helped and I have found more reasons to stay, though I fear part of my heart will always be on the road.
Evaluating how the last year and a half of travel has been, I still have some regrets and feel like I regressed, but all I can do is move on from here, and everything has so far turned out better than I ever could have expected in the end. I have learned that it is much easier to say you will follow your heart than to actually do it at times, especially for someone as nostalgic and attached as I am. Sometimes it is hard to let go, even though you know it is for the best and it is what you want to do. I also learned I need to really stick to my intuition. Like, why did I change my mind and decide to go to Europe even though I knew that was a terrible idea and setting me back in my quality of life? Live and learn I suppose. But that is still frustrating to feel like I harmed myself so much when there was no reason to and I was not being true to myself.
But it was good to get back on track. And I trust that the answers will be clear someday and hope I can continue to trust in life. And really good to once and for all get rid of things in my life that were dragging me down for way too long. Long overdue for that one, but what can I say, I’m a difficult case.
Don’t get me wrong though, I love my life. I was hiking in Patagonia next to this huge glacier the other day and I got to thinking. How on earth did I get to be so lucky? Reflecting on the last year and a few months alone, I have been to places like the Serengeti, the Himalayas, the Sahara and Patagonia. I go to Antarctica in a couple days. I have trained horses in South Africa, been tear-gassed, ridden water-buffalo and camels, cage-dived with great white sharks, interviewed refugees as they fled with nothing but what was on their backs, drank mint tea with turbaned men in Morocco, played with children in the slums of Kibera at an orphanage, slid down sand dunes, meditated along the Ganges, saw lions in the wild and was bartered over to be married off for 100 camels and 20 horses to an Egyptian man.
There are stamps in my passport from Namibia, Kosovo, Zambia, Bosnia, El Salvador, Ethiopia. How on earth did I get so lucky? I don’t know how I worry about anything .I look at my life and have nothing but gratitude for not only all the things that I have been fortunate enough to do, but for my family and everyone at home and the people I have met along the way that make my life worthwhile. I care about them more than words could express. And I am so incredibly lucky to have this amazing mom that supports me in absolutely everything that I do. Life is good, so I need to learn to let go and enjoy things more.
I am excited to see how the final leg of my trip turns out. I want to focus on strengthening, healing, passion, lightness and adventure. I want to do random things I never thought I would do. Instead of asking “why?” I want to ask myself, “Why not?”
And here I jump into this last leg of my trip, with some sadness that it is the last, but also hoping for some miracles and at the very least, incredibly happy with my life.
My mom sent me a card with a quote that I always want to keep at the forefront of my mind:
When you come to the edge
Of all the light
You’ve known,
And are about to step off
Into the darkness of the
Unknown,
Faith is knowing one of two things will happen,
There will be something
Solid to stand on or
You will be taught
How to fly
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