Full Circle

We have returned to Alaska. Completing our current journey overland up theough Canada and Alaska. Spring has returned to the northland. 

There is so much to process from our trip. In the meanwhile I found this quote the other day. Unknown author. It sums up our time away. 

"We are travelers, and this is the point of traveling — to open your eyes to the world and let the world change you into a better person through cultural exchange. To get out of your comfort zone and experience how other people live, for better or for worse. It teaches you empathy. It teaches you respect. It deepens our understanding of ourselves and of our world. It heightens our social skills and makes you adaptable to a wider gamut of situations. Most importantly, it helps define who you are and builds character, which to me is one of the most important qualities of a human being."

Until next time. 

Letting Go.....going going GONE

I´m lost without Yvonne. She is back at her parents home recuperating from pneumonia and helping her parents with their ensuing move to Oregon, see previous post.

I awake in the steaming metropolis of Manaus Brazil after my return back to the continent. Thinking I must continue! After dropping off Yvonne in Texas I continued on our trip to see our Kodiak friend Michelle in Guyana. She joined the Peace Corps in 2014 and was sent to Guyana where she works with young children in a literacy program. Yvonne and I started planning a trip soon after she left Kodiak. Plans are good, but they will be broken on the road. So come equipped with a nice dose of patience and good nature.

I had 7 days to travel from Manaus to Georgetown Guyana, should be easy enough. I would take the overnight freezing bus to Boa Vista then catch a 2 hour bus to the Guyana border. In Lethem, at the border, I would catch a minibus up the dirt track towards Georgetown, drop off half way at Mahdia and work my way to the glorious Kaieteur Falls by finding someone with a boat that could drop me at the bottom of Oh My God mountain. After a night in a hammock I would hike up, spend the night at the falls and fly back to Georgetown in time to rush a visit with Michelle before being on my way back to Colombia to meet brothers Steve and Pat and hijo Connor. Holy Schnikees!--- that sounds like a lot when I write it down. Of course it was. I had to let go of it about halfway through a 6 hour wait for a bus in Lethem.

So what really happened is that what I thought would take 10 hours from the border took 20 hours. I got to spend the day in the jungle heat with a family of Ameridians whilst I waited for the bus to "fill up." Then a 4 hour ride across a very African like savannah before spending  5 hours in my hammock waiting for the national park to open the gate so we could pass. This was followed by a vehicle ferry across the Kurupukari River and 10 more hours of a very rough dusty track.

So next time when the bus driver says we would arrive at 9, I should ask "AM or PM?"

I am simultaneously humbled and thankful for the lessons I get to learn and relearn while travelling. The patience of the people around me, The stoicism in times of what I might find unbearable circumstances. The gratitude for the privilege to be amongst others that are not like me. Is this the definition of grace? Gracias.

Map of Guyana South America

My two new friends in Lethem helping me let go!

Ferry Crossing-bus drivers preparing to race.

All Is Well That Ends Well

All is well that ends well. After 5 fabulous weeks in Colombia, backpacking around to parts unknown, the flu bug finally hit. Tried to sleep off a 4 day fever, but ended up with a lung infection that warranted a trip down the mountain to the local hospital.

The man who gave me and Brian the ride down the mountain didn't even hesitate despite the fact it was almost midnight and he had been up since 4 am. He saw we needed help and offered assistance. A trait we found time and again while traveling all throughout Colombia. There's a human connectedness in this country that hasn't been drowned out. Refreshing. I will miss that. 

While I recuperate in Texas, Brian will hit the road again to finish the final leg of our trip solo. I'm still a little numb. Hard to believe I am back stateside so suddenly. So many mixed emotions, but ultimately, I am thankful. I'm thankful for the time I had in Colombia, and I'm thankful for the option to come home to recover. Mostly, I am thankful for family. 

As I hang out in Texas enjoying the company of my parents, I will continue to debrief and process the past month's activities and experiences. I will miss recording these thoughts in our blog. It's been fun and rewarding. For those out there, thanks for listening. 

Ok Brian, it's all yours. I'll be following with love and longing. Thanks for taking care of me. Forever your girl. 

Bogotá 2016

Minca

I'm sitting in our hostel, almost 9:00 am, listening to the woman next door wash her dishes. We share a wall, and because of the hot climate, the top of the wall is open, allowing for air, and sound, to flow. I am recovering from a mild fever, taking it easy while Brian enjoys a morning walk. 

I've been taking it easy for the past 24 hours, and when I awoke this morning, it felt as if the fever had run its course. An amazing system, our body. I, however, decide to forgo this morning's walk and opt for more rest, but rest is morphing into restlessness, and my mind is beginning to wander. I listen to the woman of very few words go about her morning routine. I stay quiet, not wanting to encroach, listening to subtle sounds as they depict the scene: dishes rattling in the sink, water dripping, a towel drying, cabinets opening, drawers closing. She is oblivious to my presence, yet, the closeness is comforting. A sense of home fills our shared space. It's hard to share a space without sharing a part of your life. The connectivity is nice for the moment. My mind drifts to images of my own parents going through their morning routines and I feel a slight pang of homesickness. I think of family often. 

I leave the comfort of my bed, with the fan blowing cool breezes, to sit on the porch overlooking the surrounding mountains. Everything looks so dry. El Niño. They say it has rained once since the beginning of the year. 

The birds appear unaffected. So many different kinds of birds. I wish I knew their names, but I can only describe them by their colors. I spend 10 minutes trying to take a picture of a particularly exotic guy. He is hyper AND shy, so you can imagine my luck. It's then a little yellow breasted cutie sits beside me to watch what I am doing. He looks at me, then to the bird I am trying to capture, then back to me, before shaking his head in amusement and flying away. He poses before taking flight as if to say, "What does he have that I don't?"  I smile in agreement  as he departs. 

It's 10 am now, and the temperatures are gradually increasing. The rise is slow, almost unnoticeable, until you catch yourself wiping sweat from your brow. At 2:00 pm it is debilitating. All one can do is sit beneath a shade tree with a comfortable chair, or hammock, and wait for the heat to pass. By 5:00 pm the breezes begin again, breathing life back into all who need resuscitation. Sunsets here are not an ending, but instead a beginning. 

The town of Minca, where we are now, is up the mountain from Santa Marta, on the North Coast. Brian, unfortunately, has been alone in his explorations of late, but I hope that's about to change. Tomorrow we have plans to head to our first working coffee farm via mules to stay with a family who offers rooms to rent. The mules come with the room.  Pictures are sure to follow. 

Best travel partner ever. Pulling double duty while his wife recovers. 

Cartagena

When walking the streets of the Walled City you can't help but feel as if you have stumbled onto the scene of an old classic film set somewhere in colonial Spain. You aren't sure what the film is about, but you are sure the storyline is full of history, passion, turmoil, and beauty. 

The fact that the Walled City is a tourist destination does not detract too much from its charm or sophistication. And the romance! Horse drawn buggies, strolling guitarists, rhythmic dancers thrashing their bodies to the beat of street drummers; you begin to wonder if the city is all for show. To a degree, yes it is. But there's a deeper significance that touches the souls of those who pass through her walls. Colombians recognize this, and revere it. It's evident in the 3 different wedding parties we pass by within our first hour there, in the old men sitting outside the childhood home of Gabriel García Márquez selling their original watercolors, and the ladies sweeping their doorways, some of the last remaining private homes, vestiges of yesteryear. A vast majority of the people who eat and sleep within these stoic walls are tourists, because only a tourist can afford the price tag that comes with all the elegance. The city's spirit, however, transcends material wealth. Her heart remains her history, the brute strength felt deep within her stones her foundation. 

If you tire of the vendors and crave something less polished, a whole different world awaits you outside the walls. A working city with equally impressive energy. Just be weary of taking the bus from the Walled City to the main bus terminal across town. Five miles took 70 minutes. If the bus driver has a newspaper in hand as he lets you on his bus, be prepared. It's gonna be a long commute. 

Travellers

From Johnathon Yevin. 

"It is important to envision travel as an act of reciprocity rather than alienation. The journey is a living relationship, and the
 destination is not a theme park. The thing to do is just get out there. Traveling is not a natural talent. It must be practiced with intention."

We are practicing with intention. 

In search of water as the temperatures rise near the equator. 

BC

In the foothills of the Sierra Neveda de Santa Marta. The highest coastal range on planet earth. 

Va Para Salento? (Do You Go To Salento?)

Traveling in any country it typically takes a few days, even weeks, to figure out the bus systems. Colombia is no exception. There are so many options: long haul direct luxury, long haul indirect pain inducing, regional station to station, regional jump on anytime, city metro with ticket, city wooden benches with peso..... It is impressive and intimidating all at the same time. So, when you find yourself on a regional bus traveling 20 kilometers for .60 cents you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. The fact your right thigh is falling asleep does not detract from the celebratory sensation of "I got this!" We may look like tourists, but we travel like locals. 

Traveler beware: it's about this time you'll get a reality check. 

"Do you go to Salento?" we ask the bus driver in the Pereira bus station. "Sí!" he replies with gusto as he motions us to follow. We return his smile and fall into step behind him. We know  we are close to Salento, within 40 kilometers, so the bus will be regional. The level of "regionalness" will be directly related to its price, and this bus looks cheap. Yes!  You can imagine our surprise when 25 minutes into the trip the driver pulls to the side of the highway, calls out "Salento!" to the foreigners in the back, and waits for us to exit. We ask, "Salento?"  He replies "Salento", and motions with his hand to cross the road. Hummmm..... it's occurring to us that something got lost in translation. Bags on our backs, watching the bus pull away, we take a moment to look around. Yep, we are indeed on the side of a lonely highway with no town in sight. We look at each other and can't help but laugh. This leg of the trip is not in Lonely Planet. Time to regroup. The driver did gesture to cross the road. So we do. Sure enough there is an off ramp with a sign that says Salento. Ok, the driver was right. We'll walk towards the sign. Salento must be right around the bend (there's always a bend). The walk appears all downhill and really quite beautiful. We got this (really)! 20 minutes later, and sufficiently around the bend, we see the sign: Salento 20 kilometers. Time for plan B. 

Hindsight? If you want to travel like a local, it's best to know your local geography. Lesson learned? Our Spanish skills could use improvement. Interpretation of driver's instructions after the fact? Walk across the road and you will see a bench. Wait there for the next bus to Salento. One comes by every 20 to 30 minutes. 

Luckily the bus was a regional "jump on anytime". And really, the stroll downhill towards town was quite nice. When the road started to climb, we waited for our bus. 

All's well that ends well. The learning continues. 

Bus in sight!