my last night in barcelona. for now.

it's fuckingbullshit. i am weeping like a little girl and pouting my lower lip out like it's been hit with a baseball. nothing feels sweet and buttterfly-like. it feels sad and scary because of the genuine comfort i feel in life RIGHT..NOW. it feels like the end of a play, when everyone hugs and does a full-crew curtsy for the crowd. it's astounding to look around at these people you've spent difficult and funny times with. people you started to get *at the core*, and people you let yourself just be YOU (ME) with. and the reality is, this is the end of this play. all the characters have learned their places and found a place to be comfortable and totally crazy and expressive. we know how we interact with each others' characters. we have certain ones where we have an unspoken relationship with and secretly look after, love, flirt, adore. we have others who we are used to standing in the same room with for hours each week, yet know nothing of them... or don't fucking care... and each piece is essential to the machine running properly. the dynamic on a macro level is perfection and ridiculously beautiful.

i had a series of love-at-first-sight moments here, with more people i've allowed in in a really long time. for the first time in a long time i feel surrounded by a family, a crew, and i am scared to leave it even for a day because i never want to lose what i've found here. in one year i have seen the very opposite ends of life. i've felt life-threatening despair. i found wholeness and openness. i have let my fear drive me to closeness and surrender to the intimacy and ongoing adjustments you have to succumb to in order to have tranquility flowing melodically. that would be seriously scary perfection if you get all that to jive constantly and in unison. i'm proud i've just swam in the waters.

it's insane that so much happiness can bring forward such a sadness. i guess i've actually found 'home.' for years i've been looking for a place to want to root down. i have definitely, completely found it in barcelona. i have a long way before coming back and finding my next HOME, and rekindling my friendships i've gone without for months (um, ok, a shot a jaeger and we'll be half way there... ;) ).

i also have a chest full of love for my new venezuelan brothers. i haven't shared an apt with people in a long time, and these boys had their moments... but when i think of them i think of all those evenings on the beach, singing and laughing, and always knowing they would take care of me first and foremost. i found myself somewhere between a girlfriend/sister/mom figure with them, and they let me in... even when i convinced them to change the wall color, furniture and lighting. they helped me with everything. they loved me from the moment i arrived. i don't ever expect to find a roommate situation like this again. and this is just another reason i sit here so melancholy tonight. ((poor me)) ((sorrrrrrry))

The Beatles
Lennon/McCartney

Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy.

There's nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you
in time - It's easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.

There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.

All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
All you need is love (all together now)
All you need is love (everybody)
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.

Tomorrow is my birthday. For some reason this always is the most depressing and lonely day of the year, without fail. I am ALWAYS proven a total ass for these feelings, but the day before my bday I wonder who, or if, anyone really loves me. It's really very narcissistic I think. Last year I remember sending people bday messages on Facebook in the weeks before my birthday, thinking and hoping they would in turn remember me on my day. It's so stupid and crazy!!!! That is retarded!!! It reminds me of the Xmas card dilemma I've always watched my mom get cockamamie (that’s a mom word and I love it!) about: Well I wasn't going to send THEM a card because 2 years ago they didn't send US one but 2 days before Xmas I get THEIR card, so I HAVE to get one back to them today....

Part of the difficulty with constantly moving around is that I also constantly feel farther away from people I've fallen deeply in love with... and I've lived in so many cool places and befriended a ridiculously brilliant and dazzling group of friends... how can I not feel lonely without them!?

I do hope I am remembered tomorrow but I am taking this brilliant opportunity today to sit back and watch as the clock ticks closer and closer to midnight, when my bday starts, and allow the deepest gratitude to enter my heart. I have the most incredible family. My parents, brother and Dez and Alyssa and Tesa are all hysterical and entertaining and loving. They will always tell me what they think, and it’s usually worlds away from what I think, but I love them for caring enough to do that. And for loving me when I take my own path anyway. :)

My SF friends feel farther and farther away these days, yet I am living a lifestyle many of them did during the time I knew them, and now I *get* it. My SF friends made me easy-going and excited about life. They gave me the tools to love on a deep level and divulge my deepest secrets, knowing it will pull them closer if I do so. Not all friends can offer this. Shit, most can’t. The SFers are still the most creative, friendly, gratifying, effortless, lovely, eccentric, blissful people I know. When I lived there lots of them were enjoying the dot-com bust and living the unemployed (or funemployed, really) lifestyle while I marched with the ants day after day. They would tell me about how they really learned to enjoy life while they were unemployed. They did things they never had time for before, they sat in coffee shops in the middle of the day and read, they stayed out all night dancing, they wandered our lovely city aimlessly. At the time my corporate-fueled mind thought it was all so pointless. And now I am reminded what a young soul I am. Patience, young Grasshopper.

My Seattle friends have all moved to SF for the most part, and while I saw that coming it makes my thoughts of Seattle slightly vacant feeling. The most extraordinary people I’ve ever met took me in as a favor to a friend I met once. The arms of like 30 people opened wide, gathered me and surrounded me and made me part of the soup. We lived together, created mind-blowing shit together, cuddled together, partied together, questioned and explored shit together, laughed a LOT together, gussied up in awesome costumes and shook our little asses till sunrise. Now they all have babies. And there are us few stragglers watching the coolest people on earth raise the coolest little kids on earth.

My NY friends are only a handful, but they are immensely compassionate and intimate, and they were my allies during a very dark time for me. Today I wish I had been able to enjoy life more when I lived in NY so I could have spent more time loving my friends there. They truly loved me despite my constant efforts to push them all away.

Here in Barcelona I have a place I can go where everyone knows my name.

Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got.
Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.

Wouldn't you like to get away?

Sometimes you want to go

Where everybody knows your name,
and they're always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see,
our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows
Your name.

Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows your name,
And they're always glad you came;
You want to be where you can see,
Our troubles are all the same;
You want to be where everybody knows your name.

It’s 12:13. Feliz Cumpleanos, conmigo. Life has been good to me!

Today was one of the most difficult days I've had in months. I sat in my Spanish class with a coffee in me and ready to participate and get in action. But when I sat down I felt like a blank page. I watched each of my classmates in our horseshoe of those student desks, with the chair attached to the desk, and for some reason couldn't understand anything around me. And what's worse was that all the other people in the class were speaking conversationally and putting sentences and grammar together (like they should be after taking a couple months of classes). And I couldn't put together a basic sentence.

I put giant, blinding walls around me but I could still see my body language from the others' perspective... I felt and looked so embarrassed, frustrated, angry, stupid and mortified. I was unconsciously pulling in my limbs and muscles, trying to be like a little beetle playing dead.

I rode the subway to the other side of the city and then home. I thought about how if no one spoke in this subway, you could forget you're surrounded by people you can't actually communicate with (verbally). City people in every city have a common thread. It may be in the clothes or the attitude or the dynamics. I am reminded... we are One World. I need to remind myself that I am trying to bring myself closer to the rest of the world and it's fucking hard. But I am here, and I am trying. And today was shitty.

On a last note, tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the US. I have a huge meal prepared for my friends here and want to share with them the warmth you have during this holiday in the states. I am looking forward to waking up tomorrow and seeing this world through lenses that highlight generosity, love, friendship and all the incredible things I've seen and done this year. WHAT. A. YEAR!!!

I never stopped writing...

... I just stopped sharing. Sorry!

October 14.

It was no mistake that I came across “Eat, Love, Pray” when I did, and I believe it was the works of the universe that brought the book to me. Twice. After reading it the first time I opened a part of my mind I needed exposed in the worst way. A part that would enable me to leave Jeff despite the ‘perfect life’ I thought I wanted and created. A year later I would learn I could more literally run away, and it would be in search of the life I never thought I could have - but had to find. It is months later that I am learning again from it… that running was the easy part. Forgiving myself for it was harder. Yet, forgiveness turns out to be easier than expected, and has lead me to a new place I have yet recovered from. The ability to attach again. Whether it be because I am scared or, well, scared… I guess I know the truthfulness that is today.

The past years were a culmination of everything I had always worked towards. Or so I thought. Like Liz in the book, I worked hard for the perfect life. I thought I wanted to spend my weekends in Home Depot. I had the home, the nice guy, the dog and cat. We spent our weekends in, cooking, relaxing together. I guess a part of me really did want that. But there is so much more that I wanted, that I felt was lost or never achievable. It was like if I had all these things I was supposed to have, I wouldn’t care to think about everything else that was out there. The beautiful places I had never been. The lives I’d never live. They all seemed so romantic in thought. But wasn’t what I had romantic? Wasn’t it the life I always wanted?

No. Simply, no. It’s taken years for me to come to terms with that and I still struggle every day trying to find that balance. The balance of the romance and love with the self-exploration and constant reservations I have about living a life under other people’s terms. The balance. It’s so hard to find.

I saw the movie today. I sat alone in a theater in Barcelona. I never once felt a sorrow for being alone, or a yearning to have company. That feels really fucking good.

I cried a lot watching the movie. I did out-loud when I wanted to. Maybe it’s because I could relate so much to what I was watching, and so much more-so than I even realized. I think a large part of my subconscious paid close attention to the book, in a deep far-away place internally, and it drove me to make a lot of the decisions I have made. Just as I am a marketer’s dream, I guess I am also a dreamer’s apprentice.

In the book/movie this woman moves to Italy knowing shit Italian and finds herself alone, yet less lonesome than she’d felt in years. She opens herself to new friends. New realities, like living in a home with cracking walls and old ceilings that are being upheld and supported by the smallest - and most exposed - protection. In just writing that I find a lot of irony in that. My home was always sturdy. This never mirrored my connection to my soul. In fact my soul was sitting on thin steel beams, and one small fracture would bring the whole house down.

But it didn’t. And somehow finding myself in places where the walls are thin, or sometimes even destroyed, my soul found a solitude. Staggering. Extraordinarily, genuinely, staggering.

Sitting here today I adore each day. I wake in a different place and walk the streets, stunned by the beautiful architecture that surrounds me. I meet new people who I learn from every day, even if - or especially if - it’s over a pint of beer next door to my flat. I see the world through more innocent eyes, eyes that have seen sorrow and have been revitalized.

What I’ve learned today is to continue ‘running.’ With each step I am finding another piece of myself I thought were only that of another romantic dreamer. I am so grateful. I am so fucking grateful.

Barcelona is being so good to me. At the beginning of the month I had 4 days here solo. I met a bunch of great people who were so nice to me and took me out for some crazy fun nights. Then the beautiful Americans rushed in. Enter Amy, Matt and Michelle. I'm staying in a 2-bedroom flat which was perfect to house all of us. We prepped and headed out to No Where, the Spanish Burningman. We met Shannon and Brian - my friends from Seattle who I burn with - and then made our camp a home. They came up in a caravana and built a rockin shade structure and costume closet and did all the food shopping. The next few days we pigged out on their awesome prepared foods and bbq'd and danced around in costumes - or, errr, naked - and celebrated life a la Burningman. I thought I'd meet a ton of people from Barcelona but I think I met one. Most of the people there were from other European countries - England and Germany mostly from my perspective. While Burningman is 30-40,000 people this was about 500. It was CUTE. I met a lot of people who I was able to see again and again day after day - something that's just not possible at Bman. It was HOT. I'm talking 110 degrees plus every day with high humidity. As a veteran burner I am embarrassed to admit I got heatstroke and had a full day sick and trying to rehydrate. We all did so some extent. There was a creek close-by and that was a miracle. I don't do shared water but after Africa my views have softened on that type of thing and spending an afternoon in the creek was a hell of a lot better than sitting, roasting in the heat.

Fast forward, back in BCN, I lost Michelle to the states 2 days after we returned. 2 days later, we lost Matt. Amy's been with me the past week and will be here another, and it's great spending so much time with her. After not living in SF for 5 years I haven't had a lot of time to be with her day after day. I feel so lucky to have her here. This week I realized I need to get serious about finding a flat for the next few months and Amy jumped online, posted ads, answered them, made appointments, and today - we scored me a flat!!

I'll be living a block from Segrada Familia which I think is considered the neighborhood Gracia. It was really funny because we saw this place first today. There are 2 brothers who are spanish that live there. They are the cleanest men I've ever met and were offering me everything... they'd move out of the biggest room if I wanted it... they'd give me an extra shelf in the fridge if I needed it... they'd let me have the extra 1/2 bath if I prefer... I know it may sound like it could be sketchy but they are seriously the nicest most laid-back people ever. After seeing that apartment I went to a very SF-like renovated warehouse that couldn't have been farther from the opposite of option 1. Here lived a British Dj/promoter/artist. The warehouse space was funky and cluttered and built piece by piece. A make-shift loft here, a plywood table, awesome spraypainted/graffiti 'art'. To get to my room you'd walk out the back door to the backyeard and walk up stairs to a loft-like huge room. The floor was slanted about 15 degrees to one side but it was big! But to go to the bathroom I'd have to go outside, down the stairs and back inside. And the bathtub was hidden by this door that would pull out - like a secret door - and expand into an L shape to hide the tub. With no lighting, but the ceilings were high enough you got light from the rest of the place. And they had a dog that looked so much like Sadie. The decision between what was literally black and white was tough. Party Suzi really wanted to live in the artist space. Good Girl Suzi kept thinking how nice and clean option 1 was, despite being a bit boring.

Good Girl Suzi took over and I know I made the right decision. It was an interesting battle internally though. I was literally at a crossroad, looking down two very different paths. But I decided to go with what was more challenging (funny as that sounds). Live with people who will only talk Spanish to me, who will watch over me and be sweet. So I waived Adios to the party side. I feel like I made a very adult decision. A reason to celebrate! ;)


The truth is, I needed to take this path. When I was depressed and suffering having to go to work every day I thought that what I really needed was to live without responsibilities. To have time to do nothing, because then I'd have time to do the more important things. But what have I been doing? Sleeping late. Getting up and having a big meal. Walking around. Maybe sleeping more. Drinking. Eating. Repeat. I would have never thought I'd say this, but it's getting a bit boring. I need more structure and routine. I need a yoga class I can go to every day - desperately. I need some sort of responsibility. I need something to get me up in the morning. This is the relaxation I was needing but I'm right on the edge of sheer lazy. Life anywhere - even in Spain - without meaning is just meaningless. I think it's a good thing I feel this way. My closeted ambition is kicking me in the ass and reminding me every day that I need more in life to tick.

So next month is a new start. I don't regret this month of gluttony. Having friends visiting is awesome and I just couldn't try to focus on anything but them while they've been here. So I will drink my wine at lunch. I will eat my dinner at midnight and proceed to drink more. I will sleep in and when I wake I will lazily roam the streets of Barcelona, grateful that I have mi amigos aqui. And soon a new adventure will start. I will actually learn to communicate here. I will take care of my body again. I will find ways to give to the community. It's in me. It's just on hold. And for now, it's magic. :)

July 2, 2010

I smell like a gorilla. Joking but only sort of. My scent has changed since living in Africa and I can only relate it to that of gorilla.

BUT I am in Barcelona now and ridiculously contento! My flat is in the middle of El Borne with everything at my doorstep. The woman renting me her place has been amazing and has took me all over the hood showing me where I can find everything I need. MARIA is fucking crazy amazing. She's introduced me to her friends who are welcoming and funny and warm and incredible. I keep worrying I may have a heart attack because my heart is so powerfully beating and open. A deep breath, a smile. So muy contento.

June 29, 2010

Today my feat was not feeling ill after any meal. it's been at least a week since i could say that.

my week in kenya was so magical and yet i am consumed with my memories of feeling so sick. i don't even think i can conjure up the many thoughts i had, which is disappointing because the wildlife and good company was unsurpassed. 16 lions - 13 cubs with 3 moms. if i could only find the words to explain how my heart was full...

i was cared for by my guide and the people at the camp in ways i don't even know. in and out of sleep i'd find a plate of food with someone encouraging me to eat. i'd have a few bites, fall back into deep sleep, be awoken with a plate of fruit and a friend asking questions and trying to translate the mumbles and hand gestures coming from my sad pile of blankets and pillows. i understand how people die from malaria. or whatever parasite that was. it was the first time in years i couldn't help myself even if i wanted to and when i stood up i was lighter than myself, sort of floating in a blur. i felt closer to being an angel than i did a human. or a soul, is what i should say. my soul was who i was. i was lucky not to fall over because my legs were soft and i was disorientated.

my days since have brought me to amsterdam where i am staying in a luxury room booked on points. the first thing i did was take a hot bubble bath and i slept about 28 hours last night. outside of that - i'm in amsterdam... life is ridiculously perfect. wake, walk around, love the little canals and people on bikes, walk, people watch, cobblestones under foot, sit outside of a small cafe and have a mineral water, watch, walk again, observe the many bikes that go by and the interesting people on top of them, pop into coffee shop, chill and be chatted up by young stoner boys and rastas, walk. sit outside, eat thai food. walk. stop and have a heineken. read. walk. repeat. i have 3 days to do this and can't be happier. so many tiny little alleys and canals to cover - HEAVEN.

Today I weighed myself three times. The first time put me 10 pounds under what I was in Uganda. The second, 7 under. The third, 5 under. My body perception has been one of the more interesting things for me on this trip. For over a month I didn't have a full-length mirror and only looked in a tiny compact mirror once every couple days. I have never felt as confident as I did those days. I was active and in the sun and nature and felt I shed pounds, had been blessed with good hair all of a sudden and looked fit. I've had a difficult few years and haven't felt fit or thin in a very long time. In fact I have been stupid critical during this time. But I feel different. I feel fit, good.

Funny enough when I had my first look in a mirror after over a month I looked like I did the last time I saw myself, and not the little twig I was making myself in mind. Not the perfectly messy 'do' I expected. I was the same Suzi I was months ago.

I've learned from this. What a fucking lesson. When you know how critical you are of yourself, can you change it? The view comes through your eyes, not a mirror, doesn't it?

My last note has to address the sunset. As I've been on the equator for a month I am conditioned to expect the sun to set at 6 or 7. The sun in Amsterdam during the summer sets around 11. It took me a day and a lot of confusion to figure this out. Viva LIGHT!

Malaria

If I could define malaria it would go something like this.

Malaria, n. (fucker): a demon that is inserted into your veins by an evil mosquito. Said demon will take over for a full 7-hour night and eject every drop of liquid and solid possible out of your body, leaving you shaking, dizzy and sweating.

Synonyms: beastly, calamitous, corrupt, damnable, depraved, destructive, disastrous, execrable, flagitious, foul, harmful, hateful, heinous, hideous, iniquitous, injurious, loathsome, low, maleficent, malevolent, malicious, malignant, nefarious, no good, obscene, offensive, pernicious, poison, rancorous, reprobate, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, spiteful, stinking, ugly, unpleasant, unpropitious, vicious, vile, villainous, wicked, wrathful, wrong

i threw up over 25 times my bad night. quite honestly i don't believe it was malaria. i think it was a parasite but not malaria. but i spent 5 hours on a table in the clinic getting pumped fluids and meds intravenously and the doctor there said so. i have been disagreeing for days but in any case it totally sucked. my waistline is happier.

June 21, 2010

“When you leave make sure you lock the tent because there are monkeys and they will come in.” This was what I was told when I arrived here today in Amboseli, Kenya. I flew out of Kampala at 5 this morning and was scooped up at the airport (by a tour guide waiting at baggage claim holding my name… I love that, it makes me feel important…) and driven southeast of Nairobi about 3 hours, again in a safari van that felt every bump on the sometimes paved/most of the time not/corrugated gravel roads. Nairobi is much more developed than Kampala was and there were some stretches of the road that were actually like US-standard roads - the first I’ve seen in East Africa.

My last days in Kampala went too quickly. As the end grew nearer the guys in the house started asking when I’d be back. Besides Justin there are 2 men - Anthon and Michael - who work as staff and guard the home, clean and make dinner. And then Brian was there a lot too. I felt really sad leaving them. They started to feel like family to me. Brian with his crazy outbursts of energy and dancing, Anthon with his respectful and shy presence always checking on me, Michael with his huge smile and cute laugh, and Justin, my fellow former San Franciscan, changing the world and hunting for a good woman. They kept me entertained and safe. I grew to love them.

Michael came to Kampala with Justin 2 years ago. Prior to that he was his security at his home in Mbale. He is going to vocational school for auto-mechanics and studies harder than ever saw any American. He is born and raised in Uganda - in Mbale I think. He shared a lot of stories with me, and there’s one that is now imprinted in my memory.

To understand this I must mention that crime in Uganda is very low, and this is mostly because even petty crime is not tolerated. For example, if you steal anything - a bottle of soda, a pack of gum even - they can kill you for it. And they will!

Michael told me about a guy in Mbale who stole a bora bora (taxi motorbike). They chased him down and beat him up. Then they tied his arms behind him and forced him to drink gasoline. When they were done they poured the rest over him and set him on fire. He said this laughing. He’s seen this with his own eyes, more than once. That still disturbs me so much, this image. It’s no surprise crime remains low.

There are a lot of things, besides the boys, that I will miss about Uganda . Here are some, in no particular order:
... Power outages. We had them a few times a week and would light all the candles in the house and proceed as if nothing changed. I adore living by candlelight and seriously think I could live that way forever as long as I could have 1 outlet to charge my ipod and laptop.
... Bare feet. I personally like flip-flops but there is something about people walking on the roads barefoot that feels so primitive and natural.
... Sleeping under a mosquito net. You have to put the net down every night to refuse the mosquitoes (aka ’Mozzies,’ my personal favorite nickname) their favorite amusement, buzzing in your ears while you sleep. It also protects you from Malaria. I quite like being in my little netted cocoon. It reminds me of being little and making forts with couch cushions and blankets.
... Roosters. There were 2 of these fuckers living on each side of my bed, it seemed. Every morning they’d rooster back and forth as soon as the sun started coming up. Despite my ‘no killing animals’ rule I seriously thought about killing those fuckers. Funny enough, by my last week there, I grew to like the sound and be able to sleep despite them.
... BAAAAAAA. There was a sheep right outside our gate that sounded literally like one of my friends playing a joke on me and very poorly imitating a sheer and yelling BAAAAAA.. I think I laughed every time I heard it, which was maybe up to 50 times a day.
... Walking through the shower to get to the toilet. So was the setup in my house. You’d open the bathroom door and to your right would be a showerhead and knobs, directly in front was a shower curtain, and behind the curtain a toilet.
... In-home full-body massage: $10 (no happy ending, thankyouverymuch), includes story about how massage therapist's dad was a successful businessman and had 32 wives.
... Peeing in a hole. Public bathrooms outside of the nice restaurants and bars have just a hole in the floor. It turns out I am a master shooter.
... Potholes. I will miss the absurdity and continuous bumps that were part of every car ride.
... Waiving, smiling kids. Although at times I felt a “Miss America Complex,” one of my favorite things was running in my neighborhood past the many, many little kids who would see me and run towards the road, smiling big and waving, yelling “Mozungu!!!!” During my 30 minute runs I think I’d smile and wave to a group of children at least 50 times. I’d wonder who the hell I think I am running through their neighborhood, smiling and waving like I was my own little parade. Hence, Miss America. But their smiles were so big and genuine that I didn’t care if I looked like I should be in a prom gown in the back of a convertible. I smiled big and waved and carried on, each little group of kid making me even more content.
... Cows and goats. I really like living in harmony with the free-range farm animals that sit in the middle of the road and just stare at you when you want to get by.

And so tonight I am out of Uganda, out of the city, and laying a bed in candlelight, under my mozzie net, surrounded my a canvas tent and beyond that a symphony of crickets listening to some jackals cackles that sound very close, in Kenya. It feels great to be out in the wilderness again and breathing such fresh air.

June 14, 2010

Where to start? So much has been going on. I’ve just returned from a 5-day safari trip to western Uganda. We went to track the mountain gorillas, of which there are only around 700 left. They are in Bwindi National Park, about 7 hours from Kampala. We had a great tour guide - Dominic - who drove us and set everything up for us… which was really important because driving ourselves there would have been painful. Uganda roads suck. I thought it was just Kampala but it really appears to be the whole country. Despite Bwindi being one of the biggest tourist attractions in Uganda the road to get there is a dirt road that seems to never be maintained, so there are huge holes and washed away areas. You have to have a 4-wheel drive to get through it and it’s seriously like backroading. I think I got whiplash. This lasted HOURS!

We had a group of 8 to go track the gorillas. The professional trackers go out an hour before we’re set to leave and go to the area the gorillas were yesterday, then follow tracks and flattened bush to follow the direction they moved since the day before. They only move about 1km a day so it’s not hard to find them. Then the radio the GPS to us and we head in. The most strenuous circumstance - and yet my favorite part of it - is that we are not following a blazed path. We are trekking through the think rainforest and having to blaze our own trail. This meant a lot of falling and trees whipping us in the face and climbing steep terrain.

Man was it worth it. We were within 15 feet of the gorillas and they were HUGE!! They didn’t even pay attention to us but they knew we were right there. There is a part of me that feels awkward about stalking and gawking them in their natural habitat when they seem incredibly used to it. I realize the fees they get for guiding these treks are used to protect the existing population and conserve the environment and protection of the animals, but no wild animal should feel that comfortable in a human’s presence unless they are specifically being used for research purposes. What if a poacher treks in? They wouldn’t even run. Anyway, I am torn about the availability of these gorillas despite enjoying their brilliance. To look at their facial expressions, hands, feet, habits - they are so close to ours. I love science. It seriously bewilders me to think there’s still a question in anyone’s mind around the history of evolution.

In all we saw 5 or 6 mountain gorillas, 2 of them being babies and 1 a silverback (the dominant male, called silverback for the grey/silver hairs it develops as an adult male on its back). We watched a female try to climb a tree where one of the non-dominant males was, and the dominant silverback came running over grunting, basically saying no - that aint gonna happen! The female was obedient and came down right away. We found out the day before the dominant silverback was fighting hard with one of the other silverbacks because he was trying to ‘make nice’ with one of the younger males. Yes, that’s right - even gorillas can be gay!! Evolution, baby.

After visiting Bwindi we stayed in a local village and were drawn from our room to follow the sounds of drumming and singing. It was coming from an orphanage close-by, and we sat and watched these 50 or so beautiful children performing songs and dance. They were so cute it melted my heart. Even the littlest had soul and it seemed like it all came so natural to them. There high little voices echoed through the nearby valley and their smiles radiated my soul. They had art that all the children had done laid out, and we were able to meet the artists for each thing we bought. I hugged a little boy named Joseph who painted a gorilla on canvas that I bought, and he clutched onto me and hugged me so tight. Don’t worry, mom, I didn’t take him home. I seriously thought about it, though!

Our next 2 days were spent in Queen Elizabeth National Park where we did game drives and a boating trip. We saw a bunch of elephants, antelope, birds, hippos, buffalos and lots of monkeys. The hotel we stayed in one night - Jacana Safari Lodge - had as many monkeys in the trees as we have squirrels back home. Having never seen monkeys in the wild I was astonished, again, by their resemblance to humans. I seriously want a monkey… despite the fact that one of ones I stalked tried to pee on me from the tree.

Our last night in Queen Elizabeth was spent watching the US vs. England in the World Cup and I was sick with a fever and horrible sinus problems, but it made me feel a closeness to my friends and family back home that made me reminisce about past times and feel a bit homesick. I’ve only been out of the country for 2 months but it feels like much longer. That said I feel like I’ve only chipped the iceberg of the travel I need to do. I’ve decided to spend this week in Kampala recovering. I still am fighting this cold/flu thing. Next week I’ll head over to Kenya to do a 6- or 7-day safari, visiting Masu Mara and the Serengeti in Tasmania. After being out of the city for a few days I’ve realized what I learned in Botswana - that the more desolate a place I am in.. the closer to nature I am… the happier and soul-filled I feel. This makes me seriously consider whether I want to spend the next 5 months in Barcelona and am considering now spending 3 months there and then finding someplace in the countryside to stay a while. It sounds silly but seeing farm animals all over the place really makes me want to have a farm with a little animal sanctuary on it. Some pet goats, pigs, chickens, cows…

I am still trying to capture the chaos in Kampala in photos but a picture just doesn’t seize it. The cars and motorcycles fighting for space on the small, pothole-filled roads that are encircled by tiny tin-roof covered shacks - all selling CRAP like batteries and airtime - and the half-naked, barefoot children playing on the side of the road everywhere and waving and smiling excitedly at you in your car. It’s a sight to be seen. The smells of diesel fumes, the sounds of horns honking, the smell of garbage burning, the seemingly infinite number of hair weaving shops, the packs of boda bodas (motorcycle taxis) waiting on street corners, the potholes, the women with babies strapped to their backs with colorful fabrics carrying huge items on their heads…

The American Embassy sits atop a large hill in the city and from it you can see a village that is clearly poorer than its surroundings. I came to understand these are the slums and had Justin put me in touch with a remarkable man, Moshen, who runs a free school for the kids living in these slums. Last week I spent 2 days over there. The first I taught an English class to kids around 13. I really have no business trying to teach. I had no idea how to, but Moshen helped me along and eventually I connected with the kids and found fun ways to engage them. The second day I helped the older kids make jewelry. As this NGO is funded mostly by donations, Moshen wants to make sure the kids don’t feel like they are being given money. He wants them to learn they have to earn things. So the kids make jewelry after school and sell it to the craft market. This is how they raise a lot of the money to keep it running. I love what they’re doing. Parents here have to pay for their kids to go to any school, which just keeps the poverty continuing generation after generation. For parents who are not educated and very poor they can’t/won’t pay for their kids to go to school. Understandable, I think. So they can enroll their kids in this program if they can’t afford it but want their kids to get a formal education and vocational training.

The school is located behind a maze of narrow dirt roads that are littered with tiny shacks, kids and chickens. It’s an area about 30 feet by 60 feet, separated by 6-foot plywood walls painted with images of elephants, Bob Marley, birds, a map of Uganda, etc, into 4 classrooms. The walls start about 2 feet from the ground and there is open air below and above them, so it’s very loud and hard to keep focus on what’s happening in your small classroom. They have a bathroom in the back, which is a new addition, but it’s all you smell. The smells of horrid feces fills the air and the lungs of the kids and they don’t even notice. As an outsider it’s all I notice. The stench is overshadowed by the privilege these kids have to actually have a small concrete room with a hole in the floor. If this doesn’t make you feel fortunate, yet powerless, nothing will.

It would be great to see more of these schools open and even better if I could find a way to help Moshen in his mission. This is a feeling I seem to be experiencing a lot here. I want to help but have no idea where to start or how to. Even more, it’s not a small task that I could give a little and walk away from. They need ongoing help and dedication. And there are hundreds of groups doing similarly extraordinary things. How to help, who to help… I’m immobile trying to find my place in all of it. For years I could have thrown money at these organizations but being unemployed and on a tight budget I just can’t right now. Or can I (says my soul)? All I have now is time to offer, and that is what I can give. I still just have an overwhelming feeling that I can do more. Suggestions welcome!

June 5, 2010

my first few days in uganda were odd for me but i think it was just because of the transition. i'm much happier now and am doing really well. it's totally different than botswana and i do prefer botswana but here i am seeing a lot of musicians and artists and breakdancers which is awesome. it is too crowded for me too. and the air pollution is outrageous. i have sat still in traffic for over 20 minutes on at least 3 occasions with deathly fumes filling my lungs. there are so many cars and motorbikes, and the motorbikes and cars and people fight for every open space in the road. the bikes also act as taxis - which i would never take - and many times there are 3 people on the bike, with one of them being a baby, and no one wears helmets. somehow everyone does move within each other so it's sort of an organized chaos but i can't figure out how it works. you have to be aggressive but not too much so. they all know the rules but i have yet to figure them out. i'm glad to be a passenger and not a driver!!

aside from the roads it's totally safe here. i haven't felt in danger at all. i don't think the people here are quite as happy as the ones in botswana but i don't see aggression either. the kids here are suuuuper happy and cute. they are everywhere and not usually under supervision or playing with store-bought toys and they are so much happier than kids in the US.

i may go to an orphanage tomorrow or if not tuesday to help teach english. i'm really looking forward to it. the kids i've met have just crowded around me and hugged me and were so sweet. they love white skin. they just keep touching it and asking questions about it. in general people admire the whites here (or 'mozungos' as they call it). it's weird. but i guess it's better than being hated! they love my tattoos too. i haven't seen anyone from uganda with a tattoo so they are really interested in touching it and trying to rub it off.

wednesday we head out to safari through sunday. we're going to see the gorillas, which i am so excited for! there are abotu 700 left living in this forest - bwindi - and they go in early to see where the gorillas are and then you treck in and spend an hour with them. they come right around you. you don't touch them but you just sit in their space as they move around you. i am sooooo excited! these are the last on earth. it's such a rare opportunity. after that we're going to some other wilderness areas to do game drives and staying in rustic hotels. should be great.

i forgot to mention that one other HUGE difference here is the HUMIDITY. i seem to be the only person who even notices it, and it is obvious that i do because i'm constantly dripping with sweat and pulling my shirt to unstick it from my sweaty body. i do not like humidity. at all.

i've been spending lots of time with brian. brian is an 18-yr old from uganda who needed heart surgery to survive last year. he approached justin last year and told him his story, and over time justin was able to get an israeli NGO agree to take him in and do the surgery. justin reached out to all of us and raised money to help with the travel costs and everything. brian stays in justin's house sometimes and is the perfect example of someone full of life. he runs around singing, dancing and laughing and it's just amazing to know he would not be here today had justin not taken him in and helped him out. he calls me aunty. it's really cute.

one bonus to being in a more urban area is there is a lot of food options. in botswana the vegis were scarce and often wilted. here the vegis are everywhere, as are the different ethnic restaurants, and i am in heaven. i've had NY pizza, ethiopian food and mexican food - and after having starches and wilted vegis - which i cooked for myself - for a month... this is heaven! the nicer lodges here also have pools and gyms, so i have taken advantage of both of them but not nearly as much as i should.

the internet as justin's house isn't working so i'm not sure when i'll be able to get back online, but know i am well fed and safe and still learning every day. i would love to share some photos of the mayhem that is the streets of kampala. soon!

May 27, 2010

My days left in Botswana are numbered and I wish I had weeks - maybe months - more here. I have not seen even a small portion of the country and I am already deeply in love with it.

Since the donkey day I’ve been busy on the farm doing labor, which ironically I really enjoy. I can remember so many days that I sat in my office with aircon watching the construction guys outside and thinking about how much harder they work than us office monkeys. It’s true, they do - and yet they are paid so much less. I understand they’re lacking education, but when I try to do any labor I realize how uneducated I am at building things, so in a lot of ways it’s the same, isn’t it? Yesterday I mixed concrete and mounted the posts for what will eventually be the gates to keep Murphy inside. Right now, every time we get in the truck to leave the camp we have to try to outrun Murphy. We go crazy fast on dirt roads to try to lose him and he always catches up. When he does we turn around and go full force towards him until he jumps into the bush and then has to try to keep up with us driving the other way. We usually lose him at this point, but we also lose about 20 minutes - just trying to get out of the farm! Hence our need for a fence.

After a morning of heavy work we went up to the art collective in D’Kar (which is pronounced with a click - then CAR. “click”-Car). They have about 10 artists that do amazing works of art right there in the studio. Some of it, admittedly, looks like kindergarden drawings, but they are meant to recrate the traditional art that’s found on ancient rocks. But a lot of it is amazing and representative of the nature and lifestyle in Botswana. I bought a few small pieces and love them.

Today we spent hours working on the farm setting up motion detection cameras. We’re doing a study to look at the holes that animals, like aardvark and warthog, dig under game fences. This is a typical way a cheetah can ‘break into’ a farmers corral - by using these pre-dug holes. The objective is to find ways to mask the holes from predators but keep them usable to the other animals. The first step is understanding what is using the holes and how frequently. The motion detection cameras are set facing the holes and take photos when it detects movement. It was a lot of hard work digging holes and erecting poles to hold the cameras. It’s such interesting work. Again I have to admit - I love the labor! I think I missed my calling! :)

Tomorrow is my last day of work with the Cheetah Conservation and I plan to take time tonight to reflect on the decision I made to come here and how much I’ve learned. I am so glad to have had this opportunity and would do it again in a heartbeat.

rough day

we had to get a donkey to feed the cheetahs so this morning we went to a nearby farm and bought a live donkey, killed it with an ax, skinned it and butchered it with kitchen knives. i mostly sat in the car with my ipod crying. i don't even know what to say, it was horrible.

last night was much better though. we went to our nearest neighbor's game farm (it takes 40 mins to get to our nearest neighbor btw) and went out to see the rhinos that have recently been visiting their water hole. we saw 5 of them and i even snuck through the bush to get a close view. they were huge and scary but beautiful and one had a gorgeous little baby.

i got great pix and promise to get them up soon.

missing that little donkey lots tonight.

May 24, 2010

I’ve spent the last week ‘off’ hanging out in and around Maun and I’m totally in love with it and with the Old Bridge Backpackers. I honestly feel like I could stay there for a full year and never be bored or unhappy. Being (lap)top-less was liberating but having experienced so much in such little time I’m afraid much of it will be lost in the cobwebs of my mind.

Last week, Monday through Wednesday, I took a four hour boat excursion up to the Okavango Delta and Moremi Game Reserve. There were 5 of us on the trip… Hugh and Rachel, and Mariel and Carl – all from England. The group was awesome and we all had a great dynamic between us, which made the trip that much better. The boat trip was on a speedboat through very narrow channels of high grasses where we didn’t see another boat or person the whole way up. We saw tons of gorgeous, colorful birds and a giraffe but mostly I sat back and enjoyed being able to see a vast openness of untouched wilderness for hours and the magnificent never-ending blue sky. There is something magical about being in a place where the population of people is a fraction of the population of the wild animals. After living in cities for years this was a total treat for me, and one I wish I could have extended for weeks.

They took us to a pop-up campsite on Chief’s Island where they had mesh tents pitched for us and a little mess station next to a fire. There were 3 staff members who cooked for us and guided us through the bush explaining everything we were seeing and – most importantly – how not to be killed by hippos or elephants. We took the boat to the most remote, untouched area we could find, which required some serious manpower to get us through the tall grasses in order to create our own channel to solid ground. 3 men and a large stick (more like a small tree), shoving it in the water and pushing us off the delta floor through 4-ft thick grass, until we found where the bush floor met the delta floor… and we were off for a walk through the bush, creating our own path in the desolate, untouched wilderness. The walk was about 3 km and hot. I was at the back of the group and as usual wandering slowly, trying to take it all in. When just then I turned a corner and came face-to-face with a huge elephant with generous tusks, just 15 feet or so in front of me. The one rule they told us: When you come face-to-face with any animal DON’T RUN. Just freeze until told what to do. Which is why I, of course, jumped and ran away as fast as I could. I honestly thought I’d be able to follow that one rule but when faced with something that large, it’s not as easy as it sounds! Fear and impulse kick in such faster than memory. Anyway, I’m alive and all is fine so no harm done. But I suppose I’m lucky… that I didn’t shit my pants.

We found a huge lagoon where there were about 10 hippos swimming around and sat and watched them for a while. They’re also ridiculously large animals that, although they’re vegetarians, are nasty mother fuckers who are known to kill more people in Africa than any other animal, just for the hell of it. They’re beautiful, though, and make the best sounds. They sound like a big man with a very low voice, laughing “Haaaaahhhhh Hahhhhh Hahhhhhhh!” It’s hysterical, unless your mesh tent is 5 feet from water where you hear such hippo splashing around and laughing. “Haaaahhhhh Hahhhhh HHHaaaaaahhhh.” My first night in the tent I was so scared. Between the hippo and the baboons screaming I couldn’t stop thinking there was literally only a piece of mesh surrounding me and ‘protecting’ me, and why the hell should that stop anything from ambushing me? I was alone. I didn’t even have a pocketknife. I did eventually fall asleep, and the following night found the fear wore off much more quickly until I actually overcame it and really, thoroughly enjoyed being surrounded by the sounds of nature and wild beasts, right outside my tent.

Despite being safe and sound from the wild I will never be safe from myself. I got a minor concussion. I walked into a tree. Sober. Straight into it. The dizziness, headache and throwing up reminded me I’m my worst enemy. PS, I’m just fine and the bump is gone. It feels as far away as that island does.

During the 4 hours back to Maun on the boat I found myself deeply contemplating the life I’ve lead, and what a small little piece of this universe we all are. It’s hard to even remember working at my desk and talking about page views when so much of the ‘real world’ is surrounding me. The locals row by on their mokoros and look much happier than the NYers on the subway, who are living the ‘American Dream.’ I feel more at peace with myself than I ever did when I thought the security of my job was the most important thing in life. In the end I could have been one of those people on a mokoro and had only known that life, and despite being able to ‘have’ more than them – in this life – in terms of education and material things, I can’t say I wouldn’t have been more happy with such a simple life. Humph, maybe it’s just the concussion talking, but this is just a piece of the flooding thoughts I’m having about that.

I continue to be so happy to have done this and feel so fortunate. And this is just the beginning. It’s good to be in love with life again… it’s been way too long.

And I think to myself… What A Wonderful World.

May 11, 2010

I’ve started working on a project in the office, which is using my skills – so I enjoy it – but it’s not as fun to blog about. I’m tasked with helping them find a software to use to send out their e-newsletters and to write the next one. I also want to help them get more visibility on social network sites. Even though it’s office work the doors and windows are open and the pets are at our feet so it is much nicer than the offices I’m used to.

Friday night we went to a nearby farm where they have a lodge that has a bunch of traditional San huts for the guests to sleep in and a Bushman walk, followed by traditional dancing. This was one of the things I was most looking forward to because the Bushman use different roots and leaves for medicinal purposes and I am into homeopathic medicine. Their methods and means were way different than mine though. Like the first stop this really old San woman dug up the roots of a wild plant and the guide told us it’s for ‘women who have problems’ (that problem turned out being infertility). You have to have an elderly person dig it up for you and you boil the roots and then drink the tea. In one month you will be pregnant. I’m incredible skeptical since so many of my friends have spent thousands of dollars trying to get pregnant, but the traditional part of this is pretty cool. We continued along learning how they use other plants but since we were with a tour bus (yes – in the middle of the bush in Africa they still have those annoying things) the tourists were annoying and rude and made it really hard for me to hear or see anything.

Following the walk the owner cooked us the best meal I’ve had thus far in Africa – a beautiful salad and a vegi Shepherds Pie which was yummy! We then watched the traditional dancing which was interesting but repetitive, and my distaste for my fellow tourists just grew and grew until I wasn’t interested at all. It felt like we were in the Polynesian village at Disney World and all authenticity went out the window.

On the way home that night I found out the farm next door found a dead cheetah and Max was going to pick it up. The plan was to autopsy it the next morning. Despite the great experience it would have been for me to partake I found myself very sad to have lost one when I hadn’t even seen one in the wild yet. So the next morning I hid in my room until after noon while they went up to the clinic and did it. It was the oldest and largest cat they’d seen around here and since the stomach was completely empty and the area around the cat showed the cats paws were flailing around before it died they believe it was poisoned. My heart aches.

On a better note we all went out dancing at Ghanzi’s only dance club Saturday night and it was… interesting. It was like a big hall, one that you’d find a VFW in or something. Wood panel walls, linoleum floors and one disco ball in the middle. There were about 10 men to every woman and they kept coming up to me telling me to marry them. One guy even introduced me his sister. It was cute and not threatening at all, but now I have some idea what it feels like to be a celebrity and have paparazzi complimenting you and following you around. Okay, maybe the paparazzi comparison is a little ridiculous but hey, I miss the E! channel.

I finally did some shopping! This really cool girl Sarah is based in Maun and came and stayed with us Sunday night. She runs a not-for-profit that supports women who care for HIV/AIDS orphans. In Ghanzi – as in other towns around Botswana – she has a group of women who meet regularly as a support group and the organization helps each woman get started on jewelry making. Each time she comes into town she meets with them and looks at the jewelry they’ve made and she buys the good pieces off of them. From there she tags them with info about the project and the woman’s name and sells them to the lodges for their shops. The money goes right back into getting materials for the women. I was so inspired by this. The jewelry is specifically ‘paper beads,’ in which they get large posters and use pieces of the posters to make ‘beads’ by rolling them and setting them. They are all so colorful and look really professionally done. I was able to buy them right off the women in the group so I stocked up on gifts for everyone back home. And myself. ;)

We also went to Ghanzi Craft, a well-known craft store that only sells the jewelry made by the local women and the proceeds go right back to them. While in the store I peaked out the back window and there were about 10 women with their babies and small children, gathered in the shade making the jewelry for the shop. I am a sucker for this kind of thing and stocked up on the typical local jewelry, which are strands of small beads made of ostrich eggs.

This week we are starting a new study which will require lots of time out digging on the farm and for the first time I’m ill. The stomach/intestinal bug that I’ve been expecting has arrived. So I will be taking it easy and probably just letting my body heal itself. As the poster on the wall of my travel doctor in NY says, ‘Travel will open the mind... and loosen the stools.’

May 6, 2010

I never thought I’d say this, but I love farm life. To drive the perimeter of our farm it takes nearly an hour. We need to feed ‘the boys’ (the Cheetahs on-site) a natural prey for them so they can start learning to hunt. Two weeks ago they caught a warthog, which was not the preferential prey but available, and released it in the pen and it wound up chasing the Cheetah instead of them chasing, killing and eating it. It had to be removed. So this week we’ve set up 2 traps along the perimeter fence to try to catch something they can ‘hunt’ before going to the larger transitional pen up north. We’re trying to get a small Duiker or Steenbok. With large traps, shovels and bush-cutters we set out in the pick-up truck and set them up on different sides of the farm. It’s the kind of trap that once you enter and step on a plate the sides drop and trap you (them) in. There are so many small details we needed to focus on, like the actual pressure on the plate designates settings on the doors. And we had to cover the trap with Acacia so it would be disguised. Chopping down the Acacia in the hot sun was hard and hot and we got thorns in our arms, but to be honest I consider them battle scars and I love them.

Today I learned spore tracking, which is being able to tell which animals passed through a site based on their paw prints. We only focused on feline and canine predator tracks and I learned how to tell the difference between lion, leopard, cheetah, caracal, hyena, domestic and wild dog, jackal and porcupine. It’s complicated and hard to differentiate in the sand. We walked around the farm around our campsite and found a lot of porcupine, domestic dog (MURHPHY!), hyena, jackal and aardvark. To be honest I find it really difficult so I’m trying really hard to be able to spot and call them, but it’s hard for me and that really makes me pissed off and impatient. But I’m trying!

Today I also was really challenged with scat tracking, which is basically going through a bunch of samples of cheetah poo they’ve collected to figure out what it’s eating. It was a stinky job and I was like a kindergartener giggling and ewwwwing, but I will say the science lab portion of it was awesome. So how do you analyze poo? You take a dried sample and scrape it apart (with tools, I aint touchin’ that shit). Interestingly enough cheetah poo is for the most part just hair from whatever it ate. So then you take these hairs, insert them into a beeker-type thing, set it with wax, cut small cross-sections and set them on a microscope. Every species has a different hair under the microscope so you know what it ate. How cool is that!? Today we just prepared the slides, but when I know the results I will post them.

In other news, farm life is making me a beautiful glowing tan color… on my face and arms. I officially have a farmers tan, and that is only a week in. Having to trek through the bush every day I can’t wear shorts so it looks like this will continue to build with my pretty tanned face and arms, and pasty body elsewhere.

We went on a game walk yesterday and saw a bunch of cool animals, but the truth is unless you’re in a fully-stocked farm (which someone has to artificially stock) most animals hide and run. We still saw lots of different kids of colorful birds and game. I wish I was a bird lover, because there are so many I’m learning about but I really don’t care so much.
Camp life is good. I haven’t lived with a bunch of people in a long time, so sharing bathrooms, kitchens and living areas is very new for me. I really like the people I’m here with, which makes it pretty easy. It’s not as communal as something like Burningman but we are able to be together yet have our own spaces. So far, it works. For instance tonight I cooked a spicy vegi stir-fry next to Max, who cooked goat and some African porridge thing, next to Harry who cooked some bacon for her salad, etc etc. We watched Africaan TV and had no idea what they were saying, but we were all joking and playing with the pets. Elena, the Italian, doesn’t speak a lot of English so I have to make sure the way I say things she and Max understand. Max says I ‘don’t have a delicious language’ because I say fuck a lot. I told him to fuck off. :)

May 3, 2010

Yesterday was my first full day at camp and although it was a Sunday we worked. The farm we live on is huge and we just basically rent a plot on the land. A bit up the road on our farm there’s a campsite where some local kids go when they have weeks off of school. This weekend we were hosting a group of about 35 orphans for an environmental education weekend where we focused on cheetahs and other predators, and helped them learn about the predators and despite the human-predator conflict, the reasons they are important to the ecology as a whole. It was cool because I hadn’t even been trained on all of it yet so I learned quite a bit myself. Like, for instance, you can tell leopards and cheetahs apart by their spots. The cheetah’s spots are solid black and the leopard has brown in the middle. Who knew?

When I heard we were doing this I groaned. I didn’t sign up to work with orphans here. I turned out having a great time. The kids were funny and sweet and really showed interest in learning. When I got there they were in a large circle singing and one by one they were getting in the middle and dancing. It was so freaking cute. They were 11-17 year olds and some of them were sick dancers, others just hysterical performers. From there we went on the ropes course where I supervised them helping each other complete the course. They were as crazy as any kids but what I did notice is if you tell them to do something directly, they do it. They are totally respectful of older people. After they all went they convinced me to and about 8 of them stayed by my sides supporting me from every angle. It was so sweet.

The funniest part was when we introduced the kids to a great livestock guard dog, the Anatolian Shepherd. He’s also our camp dog, Murphy. Murphy is only 7 months old and the size of a small horse. He’s a total sweetheart but you know he’s still a puppy because he’s playful and pretty dumb. A small horse trying to paw at you is cute but can knock you down. Anyways, when we brought Murphy out of the car and towards the classroom, which was outdoor and surrounded by a 2 ½ foot wall, he spotted the random goat that had been hanging out right outside the walls. He bolted for it and his leash broke, and after he chased the goat around the back they both came barreling through the classroom – over the walls, on top of the tables, jumping over the other wall. First the awkward jumping goat and then the uncoordinated small horse – all between the screaming kids. We caught Murph and the goat got away and I sat there… totally inappropriately laughing my ass off with my head in my hands very unsuccessfully hiding my laughter.

At sundown last night the group of girls here at the camp drove to a nearby waterhole to have a sundown cocktail and watch the sunset while Murphy, our camp dog, chased birds and bolted in circles around and in the water. The sunsets are gorgeous. You can see so far and the colors are breathtaking.
There are a total of 6 of us at the camp. 4 permanent staff members, 2 from UK, one from Australia who used to work at Brisbane zoo and 1 Motswana guy (people from Botswana are called Motswana). The volunteers are myself and an Italian woman who’s a photographer. It’s a really interesting multi-cultural mix. It’s funny to compare what we call things and what the values are in our respective countries, and to also have a local to help us understand the language and culture here. I’m never sure what will be considered offensive so I love that I have him here to ask. He’s like our big brother and a sweetheart.

Today we woke up and did some immersion training, learning a lot about the region we’re in, the predators here, the poisonous snakes and how to deal with them and the camp rules in general. We are about 30km (20miles) west of Ghanzi in the Kalahari desert. This area is the largest farming area of Botswana so the main source of income here is farming and livestock. Today we visited a farm where a cheetah killed 2 of their goats this week. It was way the eff out on a dirt road and they are working towards having a completely sustainable farm where they raise chickens to feed their dogs who guard their sheep who produce their milk, etc etc. Having always lived in cities I’ve heard so much about sustainable farming but never saw it first-hand. This farm does a great job in protecting their farm properly from predators but the warthogs have been digging holes to get under their fence, which has provided perfect opportunities for cheetahs and other predators to get at their live stock. My colleagues assessed the farm and made a few suggestions on how to better protect the farm – including filling those holes in daily – and also educated them about cheetahs as predators. They can’t climb fences, so as long as they are properly fenced in a cheetah can’t get in. They also suggest lining the surrounding areas with Acacia, which is a tree with thorns that look like toothpicks. From there we went to the nearest neighbor farm and talked to them to find out if this is a bigger problem in the area or if it’s an isolated incident. The neighbors haven’t had any problems, which is good.  When there is a ‘problem cat’ – that strikes many times in the same area – they will attempt to trap it and release it in an area where there aren’t as many people and farms. This is really a last-resource option because when you remove a cheetah from its territory another one will move in and take over that territory within weeks, so you still have the same problem. So the organization focuses more on helping the farmers protect their farms better.

On our farm we are also housing 2 rescued cheetahs who are about 1 ½ yrs old. They were chased for a long distance by a car until they became too weak to do anything. Their mom ‘disappeared.’ The org took them in (as they couldn’t have cared for themselves at that age) and have kept them in a pen until they are fully grown. They are very careful in not exposing them to people except during feeding and also keeping their environment as close to natural as possible. We went down to feed them this evening – you should see how they hissed at us and attacked the poor donkey meat they were fed. This is an exciting month to be here because we will be driving them 11 hours north to a larger pen where they will be introduced to wild impala so they can learn to properly hunt before being set back into the wild.

This afternoon while the sun was still up I decided to wander the farm and see what surrounds us. About 15 minutes into it I came across a huge Corn Cricket that frightened the hell out of me. I knelt down and checked him out as he stood on his hind legs effectively making me leave him alone. At this point I was a little jumpy but I continued on through the thick grass enjoying the hot sun. I had my ipod on and was singing “Love is My Religion” by Ziggy Marley and smiling at how fortunate I was feeling. Until a large animal charged into the back of my left calf. As soon as I felt the fur I screamed and did a little ditty of a dance quickly stepping back and forth. When I finally looked back, it was Murphy.  Damn dog.

First day at camp in Botswana

May 1, 2010

I arrived in Botswana yesterday and was met at the airport by Harry, one of the other volunteers who I have heard referred to now as “The Cheetah Girls.” She drove me to the Old Bridge Backpackers where I had rented a safari tent for the night. It was a very cool place. My safari tent had 2 beds in it and overlooked the river. I loved it. There were a bunch of Peace Corps people staying there and they were very kind in helping me get acquainted with the money (Pulas) and the local beers. We took a sunset cruise down the river and I felt like I was on my parent’s boat in Florida. It literally looked and felt the exact same way, with the exception of a gorgeous giraffe hanging out riverside. I turned in on the early side after a white Botswanan pissed me off talking shit about Americans.

Today I slept in since I knew it would be the last chance I could for a long time. Harry picked me up and we went to the airport to grab Elena, the other Research Assistant, and then drove 3 hours to Ghanzi. The road was pretty empty of other cars but it was FULL of cows, donkeys and horses. We were constantly stopping to let them cross or to drive around them. I loved it.
Our camp is about 20 minutes past Ghanzi on a gravel road. By the time we got to Ghanzi it was dark and it was getting hard to drive in the dark and watch out for the animals. Harry’s a pro, though. Unfortunately about 10 minutes into the drive on gravel we got a flat tire. So here we are, in the middle of the desert in the pitch black night changing a tire. She knew what she was doing so I took the time to look at the sky and sit there in shock looking at the millions of stars. You can see the Milky Way crystal clear. The boss at the camp, Lorainne, came and helped out and I watched these 2 awesome women changing a tire like champs and felt some serious girl power. All I kept thinking is how I wanted to be more like these women.

I drove the rest of the way with Lorainne who proceeded to tell me they found and killed a cobra in one of the bedrooms on the camp today. Apparently the camp has had some snake problems lately. Awesome. I requested that room go to the other volunteer, and she’s in there now with the camp cat protecting her.

My room is cute. It’s in sort of a small cabin and there are 2 rooms, one being mine and Harry’s in the other. It’s got a bed, dresser, small table, fan and clothing rack. It’s actually better than I was expecting, as long as the snakes stay away…

After I had some chips and bree for dinner I returned to my room, unpacked, checked my bed for scorpions and am getting ready for my first night on the camp. They told me I’ll hear hyenas and jackals during the night and not to let it frighten me. Just like NYC!

Cape Town Round-Up

April 30, 2010

Well less than a week into my trip and I’ve already procrastinated updating my blog. The good news is I was way too busy enjoying Cape Town and finally being able to sleep through the night to get on my computer.

Cape Town and the surrounding area are incredibly diverse. The city itself – the downtown area – is home to a handful of tall buildings but mostly smaller streets and squares. As a visitor I didn’t spend much time there because it seemed impossible to find anything I was looking for (from the guide book). Instead we found ourselves in a café drinking intense espresso and even more intense German liquor that tasted like liquorish, looked like motor oil and made me feel like I was tripping my face off.

The Waterfront is the main tourist area, which surrounds the docks and has lots of outdoor restaurants and shops. It’s a bit of a tourist trap really. It was fun for a beer on the deck in the sunshine, but the service there (and really in most places in Cape Town) was horrible, as was the fried fish I got. Everyone was raving about the food in Cape Town and I have to say I was very disappointed in it myself. Perhaps it’s because I don’t eat meat. The seafood is supposed to be some of the freshest you can get, but their preparation is just not to my liking. I kept trying but my fish was consistently too chewy or not cooked well enough. It could just be me I guess! By the end of the week we did find 2 great restaurants, both French :).

My favorite parts of the city were definitely the gardens and parks. While Cape Town is very cosmopolitan there are great little pockets of protected nature that were perfect for sitting in the sun and picnicking. My photos really will tell more about the gardens then I ever could put into words, but Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens is truly one of the nicest places I’ve ever been. They sell you a picnic in a bag and wine (all local and sustainable) and the views in every direction are to die for. It reminds me a lot of Marin County in California. You find yourself taking in deep breaths, smelling an amazing mixture of trees, plants and fresh, clean ocean-sprayed air.

The other outdoorsy wonder is Table Mountain National Park. It’s ridiculous!! The mountain itself is the backdrop to the city and massive. The National Park actually runs south to the very end of the Cape, ending at the Cape of Good Hope, the most southern point of Africa. It takes a little under an hour to drive to the southern point from Cape Town, curving cliff-side on the west side of the peninsula and coasting through little beach towns on the eastern side. There are a bunch of trails and we took one out of Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens, which we expected to be about 2 hrs and moderate. We were useless and really didn’t plan well at all. In the end it took us 4 ½ hours and we hiked all the way up the mountain and across the top. Ten minutes into the hike I realized my cardiovascular health is pathetic and that climbing rocks and stairs and ladders were much harder than I would have expected (well, HAD I expected that… which I certainly didn’t). This continued the next hour and a half. It was the most strenuous hike I’ve ever done and at times I beat myself up so much for not having the energy I wanted. That could be due to our lack of eating breakfast or lunch and only bringing 2 liters of water. It was exhausting and exhilarating and something I will never forget. Once at the top the views were breathtaking, the air was immaculate and I was feeling a pride I haven’t felt in years. We treated ourselves to some cold cider and relaxed, basking in our accomplishment and the incredible views of the beaches and city below.

Driving south to Cape of Good Hope is spectacular. The further south you get the closer to nature you are, and the highlight of the whole trip was heading to The Boulders, a beach on the eastern side, and hanging out with the cutest freaking PENGUINS! They are not scared of people and hang out with you. You can even swim with them if you can bear the cold water. There are 3,000 living there and we probably saw a hundred. Their little waddles and hops are so cute we went back a second day to spend more time with them. We felt like we experienced something that very few people ever have the opportunity to and I am incredible grateful for that experience.
Heading south we encountered wild BABOONS. They were at first just at the side of the road – one at a time – but then one after one they spilled onto the street from the cliff above and we found ourselves in the middle of 15 baboons! They surrounded us and picked bugs off each other and climbed on one another and made me scream and bounce around the car like a child. They marked my second-best experience in S Africa. Hands Down.

Only an hour outside of the city is Stellenbosch, the wine region of South Africa. Over the past few years I’ve been hearing great things about S African wine and I was excited to add it to the global wine regions I’ve visited (California, Rioja Spain, New Zealand, Australia, San Emillion France…). It pains me to say this, but the wine flat-out sucked. The popular regional grapes are Chien Blanc and Pinotage. The wines are pretty sweet and just taste off. That said, $10 will get you the most expensive bottle in mid-range restaurants. The wine region was lovely though and strangely… Dutch. Nothing was in English and all the streets were in Dutch. I have nothing against the Dutch but I can tell a Mustenburg from a Freidenchlaz. Or whatever. In the end we did find a great Cabernet from Rustenburg vineyard so it is possible to find a good one out there, you really have to look though.

I loved Cape Town. I wished I had weeks more to explore it. There is a really difficult ‘other side’ to it, though, that made me really uncomfortable… the racial divide. Only 20 years ago Nelson Mandela was released and the blacks were able to be ‘equal’ and vote. Today the racial divide is still very obvious. On the coasts of the cape there are huge, modern, mulit-level stucco homes adorned with huge floor-to-ceiling windows and the newest and most immaculate architectural gems. I’m not saying only white people live in those homes, but I do think it’s mostly white. And outside of these cliff-side mansions are these Townships of 4-walled simple, tiny homes piled on top of each other where it appears many of the blacks/’workers’ live. Some companies host tours of the Township and I could never do that. How weird, to have the white tourists come through and see how you live in your poor township… I just found it wrong to even photograph it from afar. I did, but kept my photos very limited and only enough to show this without stripping the dignity from the community.

Cape Town, I learned, is the S Africa equivalent to the French Rivera. This helps me understand all the new construction and the increasingly high-class living in a place that is still at the bottom of the global cosmopolitan food-chain. My memories will always include the nature and mountains, the beaches and the Miami-like condos that adorn it, the dramatic modern architecture that is sprinkled amongst the hills overlooking the sea, and the ability to come into close contact with some of the most basic animals of the earth.

Jetlagged

My jetlag is killing me! After spending 2 nights back-to-back sleeping on airplanes my body clock just can't adjust. I am sitting here again post-midnight with high hopes for hiking tomorrow and sleep will not grace me. It's 6:40pm back home and 12:40 here and despite some Lunesta and red wine, here I am. Restless. Watching Delphine sleep. Missing my loves back home. Listening to music that should be making me sleepy but instead are making me a lil homesick. When morning comes I will be so cozy in my heavenly bed and all I can hope is that I don't lose a vacation day snoozing through breakfast AGAIN.

So let me use my time wisely and reflect on Cape Town. It reminds me a lot of San Francisco. It's a beautiful coastal city surrounded by tall mountains and rolling hills that are scattered with (surprisingly) modern, contemporary homes and apartment buildings. Delphine, my Frenchie, pronounces mountain "Mon-TAYN" and I love it, so from here on in it shall be called Table Mon-tain. Table Mon-tain is magical. It rises from the sea and is said to be covered by a 'tablecloth' of fog a lot of the time, though I have been blessed with perfect skies and 80/85 degree weather despite it being fall, so I haven't seen the fog at all.

The city feels very new. The architecture is very modern and sleek. The bars and lounges are hip and funky. The streets look pretty new and there is wi-fi all over. Unfortunately I do feel racial tension still. Or perhaps I am just more used to people being more friendly? That's possible. The fact is most of the people on foot are black and the people in the nice cars are white. I smile at everyone and the smiles are not usually returned. People don't seem very happy in general. I can't blame them. Every day I learn more about apartheid and can't believe that it was so recent that the blacks were moved out of the city and that the whites had that kind of power. I think I'd be pissed and untrusting as well. Some of this happened in my lifetime, and now here I am vacationing here. There is something uncomfortable in that for me.

But I do feel good about being a tourist here as I know I am helping the economy and I'm glad the World Cup will be doing the same.

We should never feel ungrateful. We have had it so easy.

World Cup in 46 Days?

Cape Town welcomes the World Cup in 46 days and I am very afraid for them. The stadium itself is complete and gorgeous, but the surrounding grounds are no where near being done. Or started really. I can't help but wonder how this city is going to handle the oncoming foot traffic and mania. In general I've found the city very hard to navigate by foot. I've almost been run down more times than I can count due to the lack of sidewalks or pedestrian-friendly areas. Here are some of the photos of the area right outside the stadium, where they expect to host thousands of people in less than 2 months.






Go Cape Town, Go!!!

1 Day in London

After flying an 8 hour redeye to London I met up with my Parisian friend, Delphine, who took me on a one-day tour of London. She lived there 7 years and is back in Paris now, so I got a great condensed version which was perfect! My flew out together to S Africa that night. Here are some cool shots I got from the quick pitstop.

Bon Voyage!

Leaving Tampa April 21, 2010. One way ticket to paradise.

I forgot to post these and wanted to share... My new tattoo!

Sadie and Rusty's New Home

The pets are happy! Check out the view from their bed...




And our last day journey on the lake...

Speaking of Playlists....

My friends rock! Michelle somehow pulled off an incredible gift for me, collecting over 7 hours of music, 'My Big Fat African Playlist.' So thoughtful! Makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.



Thanks lovebugs!

What a Wonderful World

I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do
They're really saying I love you.

I hear babies cry, I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll never know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.