Africa tonight

Wow, this country just doesn't stop. Everyone told me how much fun I was going to have.. how did they know? I love it here. Even though the ticos call it "Gringolandia", there seems to be no ill will towards us gringos. Everyone here is so nice, friendly, helpful, and in this way I can't help but compare it favorably to Spain. Constantly. WWOOFing starts tomorrow. I'm currently in San Isidro del General, after a 5+ hour bus ride starting at 5am, from Puerto Jiménez in the Osa Peninsula. I returned last night from Corcovado National Park, where Emily and I had hiked in 20 kms or so to the La Sirena ranger station, stayed in the dorms there for 2 nights, then hiked back out yesterday. The park is absolutely phenomenal. There is so much wildlife everywhere and almost no people or signs of humanity anywhere. Pristine. Most people hire local guides from the area, thus seeing more of the wildlife, but most of the guides were nice and would point things out to us as well. On the hike in I saw several scarlet macaws (beautiful, enormous, loud), coatis (cute, mangy little mammal), spider monkeys. The second night, the ranger and another man who worked at the station took us out in the dark to see what we could see and: 3 tapirs! They were incredible. I've seen them in the zoos before but not from about 10 feet away. They are huge and look so sweet and peaceful eating their vegetation. They didn't even seem to care that we were there. There was also a terciopelo (fer-de-lance) in the station area. Unfortunately, no crazy huge spiders or anything. The hike back was quite funny (I don't know if Emily thinks it's so funny) because we didn't know what we were doing and were misled by the rangers as to what time and where we should cross the river because the tide was at an awkward time. We were told around 5am, at which time the water in the river was up to my chest and I had to hold my bag as high as possible behind me (while still getting it wet of course). Then there was miscommunication between us and it was still dark and.. but we got across. A couple hours of hiking later we had to sit and wait on the beach for an hour for the tide to go down enough for us to scramble over the rocks. Then the colectivo, the transportation from Puerto Jiménez to Carate where we started hiking, was crammed, smelly, bumpy, hot and nearly interminable. It was a long day but definitely hilarious and really enjoyable.

My time in Dominical before going to the park was excellent as well. There were a lot of cool people at the hostal (where we all slept in tents on a balcony, fun!). Beach bumming is the life. I met two ticos who hitchhiked around, scamming tourists (they were probably trying to scam us, we couldn't be sure), with whom we spent several days with, who also taught us how to open coconuts and drink the water and eat them. Delicious. I ended up discussing life, my life, life in general with so many people: an Argentinian, while ducking waves, who had had a nervous breakdown before coming; an American escaping the American dream who completely understood my reasons for leaving, as he shared them too; the ticos who lived on the beach and loved life. I've met so many people here who are doing exactly what I'm doing and it's comforting to here them describe their situation and know that they understand mine without me justifying it. Too much rambling and it's too hot in this internet cafe.

Quickly: Emily and I took a surf lesson, it was exhilirating and so much fun but we failed miserably trying it on our own later. But hilarious. Went skinny dipping in the ocean, what more can you ask for?

Pura Vida

I've been here in Costa Rica over a week now and I can see how some people would stay forever. It's so beautiful and I've already compiled a list of my favorite things: tropical fruit- papaya, mango, avocado- cheap, plus I love all the fruit vendors who think we're funny when we buy fruit and can't tell what it is or if it's ripe; the food in general - rice and beans with some kind of cooked veggies and fish; fruit smoothies of all kinds everywhere; the people- so nice; the pace of life- so laid back; the countryside- beautiful beaches, impossibly green rainforest, mountains; the sun- even though it's incredibly strong, as I am currently nursing a pretty bad sunburn over most of my body, it's nice to have it. I started in the capital, San Jose, for three nights. Unfortunately, most things were closed because it was the end of a national holiday week having to do with the Reyes Magos. It's a relatively ugly city but we had to start somewhere. Getting from the airport to the hostal was about the easiest transition I've ever had and everyone was very helpful in pointing out the way. The first near catastrophe was that I left my debit card in the ATM at the airport and some very nice tico ran after me to return it. Crisis averted: I'm an idiot. All was fine. Then I went to Quepos, on the Pacific coast, another ugly city but a point of access to the Manuel Antonio National Park. I saw monkeys, frogs, red-legged crabs, sloths (!), some weird large rodent thing, iguanas, raccoons.. It was beautiful. I spent two nights in Dominical, about 2 hours down a bumpy dirt road from Quepos. It's a surfing town and Emily and I met a lot of cool people. I haven't had a chance to try to surf yet due to the sunburn but I think we're heading back there tomorrow to try to take a lesson. At first I didn't want to spend the money and was a little afraid of drowning but everyone I met convinced me it was well worth it. I'm currently in Uvita ("little grape") at a pretty cool hostal. We'll try to go to the beach today and I'll try to remember to reapply every 10 minutes or so. I'm loving this country. The travelers are so cool, the ticos are so chill and pretty much everything else is excellent. In a few days Emily and I will brave the Corcovado National Park, which should be extremely funny. Then to the farm!

(it is the Pacific coast, anonymous)

T minus 10 days until I leave for Costa Rica. I'm in Olympia, snowed into the house by a veritable winter wonderland. Always a good time for reflection. I've been thinking about the new year, of course. Where I am now versus where I was a year ago (Lisbon), where I've been, who I am and how I've changed. Recent polls with new acquaintances show me that not everyone reflects in this manner: strange. Or perhaps they don't even reflect at all. But, how else do you learn about yourself? The imminent departure also forces me to think about the last time I left "forever", a little over a year ago. Granted, this is a smaller trip, with less build-up, less unknown, less commitment, less waiting, less ties--entanglements--to home. But it is still leaving for several months to an area of the world I have never visited, to a less developed region with malaria, dengue, typhoid... I feel (as) calm (as can be expected), (moderately) prepared, (generally) focused, (actually really quite) ready. And (oh-so) excited. I'm looking forward to traveling with Emily, who always encourages me to do the dumb thing I want to do because she knows I want to do it and I'll eventually learn from it, and I probably wouldn't listen to her if she told me not to anyway. She also often thinks that the dumb thing I want to do IS a good idea and we do it together. Like this trip...

I've been back in Western Washington for over 4 months now. The time has passed so quickly. I'm fairly sure I'll move back to Seattle when I return, but who knows? Bar some incredible offer or opportunity elsewhere, I will. I think. There is still no reason for me to be anywhere, still liberating and terrifying. I like the city but I need to explore more facets of its culture. I ended up hating my job; not for the job but for the customers. Rich, self-important, privileged yuppies. I've decided that I need a "real" job (read: where I use my degree and receive benefits) when I get back. Yay for the economy! But this is clearly not the time to worry about that. I still need to plan this trip. Everyone has told me to do this "while you can", "while you're young", or, "for me". These have been adults (grown-ups, you know, at least 20 years my senior who envy my complete lack of responsibilities, commitments and obligations). Responses from friends or acquaintances my own age have been more... honest? From "you hippie!" about the farming to dubiety about the entire plan. To "what exactly are you doing down there? Just traveling?" as if traveling to a foreign place must be the means to an end, not the end itself. It upsets me that I still care what other people think. Simply because my plan wouldn't work for them, why can't it work for me? And it can, but their doubts infect me with doubts about myself. I keep telling myself that I will come back and settle down and be happy doing what my friends are doing: more school, "real" jobs, at least working for their ultimate career and life goals. But I have the rest of my life for that! Always going back to the fact that I don't know what I want. And how will I know what I want when I find it? Do I stumble upon something and realize I want it? I don't want to look back at a year and realize I've done nothing. That I've learned nothing and experienced nothing, although many people may say that I've been working towards a career or ... I want to feel as if I'm moving forward toward something. But what? In the meantime, I suppose I'll spend my time doing something I love. I'm hoping this adventure will sate my wanderlust for awhile, at least.

Seattle! The big city

So I'm here, finally. I spent a month between Olympia, Seattle, and Bellingham. But really mostly in Bellingham. I was probably putting off moving here, continuing my life, finding a job, facing the future, etc. So, let's see. I start a new job tomorrow, which is pretty damn quick if I do say so myself--three days here and I'm employed! It's a cafe/roaster that seems serious about its coffee so I'm pretty excited to be involved in it. Turns out, I love making coffee! I've also learned that I suck at Seattle in general. It is by far the largest city I've ever lived in, which makes moving around difficult and confusing. I've executed uncountable illegal traffic maneuvers thus far, with many more to come. I guess I just feel slightly lost all the time, with the complete unfamiliarity of everything. And everyone. It's shockingly different from Bellingham in this regard (as it clearly should be, I understand this). This seems both good and bad; I am aware that there are extremely cool people in this city but I don't quite know how to meet them. But, really, Bellingham began to feel claustrophobic and I realized that I'm done with it for the present. Terrible, as I felt it was the closest thing that I had to a home. Alas! I must make a new home for myself, somewhere. It seems somewhat difficult here.

...because I'm going to Costa Rica in January! From January until ?? Probably about three months but anything could happen. Traveling, organic farming, adventure! Everyone tells me they wish they would have done things like this at my age: before you can't. But, just as I predicted, I do want to leave soon after returning. I have no reason to be anywhere, so I might as well take advantage and travel! This is clearly not the time to get serious about my life!

Home...?

Yes, I feel as if my life, the life I have returned to, is punctuated by ...? more often than not. My plans for the future, my plans for now, what I want, what I need. I've been home (once again, home...?) for over a week now; everything is the same and nothing is the same. My life is full of these paradoxes: about change, about time, about my future (inevitable) employment. I laughed in the face of reverse culture shock (it's just an anthropological term, right?) but, really, it's hitting me. Theoretically, I knew that things changed while I was gone, but it's difficult to anticipate it in practice. I get the question, "So, what are you plans?" every time I see someone again for the first time. I always thought that college was the difficult time--choosing your major, graduating--and that after graduation, you somehow got a job in that field. What the fuck was I thinking? Anyway, it's strange to see what my friends are doing now. From what I've seen so far, there are two general paths open to me: doing hard drugs and drinking heavily while working a no-responsibility job, or turning adult and working a professional job or going back to school. Neither appeals. There must be something else, but this really seems to be what everyone I know is doing. I had come to terms with my lack of direction while I was in Spain but I've been feeling outside pressure since day 2 in the US (e.g. checking up on my daily progress). But regardless! I love being back! I love spending time with my friends and family, of being around people who know and understand me (as well as anyone could probably understand me). It already feels like I've been here forever. Really, this is just a continuation of my homeless wandering of the past two months--just a different, familiar setting. There are so many possibilities and I have no obligation or commitment anywhere nor towards anyone. And I'm paralyzed into inaction. I'm paralyzed by the thought of making the wrong choice and closing off possible options forever. Of getting stuck in a job I hate with an obligation to continue working. I have received so much advice (solicited or not), and I do realize that by not choosing anything I am losing possibilities too. So I can't win but I probably can't lose either. It just takes time, I suppose.

Santiago de Compostela!

We arrived in Santiago de Compostela on the 23rd!!!! 450+ kilometers of walking (Sydney has the exact numbers), not including the numerous backtracks. Quite anticlimatic but also really strange to be done with a month of walking. First thought: how overwhelming to be in a regular sized city, with lots of people and traffic. And, how unfortunate that you can't just look for a place to pee behind some bush a little off the path! It's nice to be done, to not have to wake up early, hobble out of bed, pack bags quietly and often in the dark and walk till my feet hurt. But I'm also sad it's over. The atmosphere at the albergues is so warm and all peregrinos compare foot wounds and help each other out. You can also spot a peregrino from a mile away, usually because they're limping. The last week or so we'd been meeting a group of (amazing) Germans, 7 in total, at each albergue and eating and drinking with them. We've since parted ways, also sad. I've learned so many interesting things about Germany, and whenever we are at an impasse, we ask ourselves, "What would the Germans do?" We got to Santiago just in time to celebrate the day of Santiago on the 25th. On the 24th there was a fireworks show from the front of the cathedral--spectacular, with excellent music as well. We got terribly drunk with the Germans, ran into a ton of people we had met on the Camino, and just made general fools of ourselves. Excellent. Now we're in Fisterra, on the western coast of Galicia. We're bumming around on the beach until Syd and I go to La Coruña and Matt and Emily go back to Santiago to catch planes. I go home in a week from tomorrow: absolutely insane. Where have these months gone????

Galicia!

We've made it to Galicia! Yesterday, Matt, Emily, Sydney and I crossed into Galicia across an incredibly busy, very long, under construction bridge. One worker told us we could walk along the left lane, which had no traffic. About halfway across the bridge, someone said, "Is that car coming towards us?", which it was, as well as the other lane. So we had to hop over the construction barrier, which ended soon and we had to cross over to the right lane and run the rest of the way. It was pretty fucking excellent and really funny. All the workers were yelling and pointing with instructions. We got to the albergue, which was full, but a pair of German lesbians let us have their beds while they slept in a tent outside, leaving two of us to sleep on the sofa and a mattress on the floor. We made friends with a group of seven Germans, who initially disliked us because we didn't say good morning to them. The local police (four of them! so efficient) came to the albergue to document who was there and collect the 3 euro each, and offered to take our little group to another place so we could all have beds. One cop (jolly cop) drove us to the gymnasium, stopping to let us buy wine at the supermarket. We had the whole gym to ourselves! Then jolly cop went to get the other three cops (lady cop, spiky cop, big nose cop) to sign us in (once again, very efficient). This, following a terrible day where we got on the wrong track and overshot the village by about 4 kilometers and had to backtrack about 8. (Yeah, I know it doesn't make sense but it's the way we walked or something.) We also tried to get to another road by crossing a field; unforunately there were tons of blackberry bushes, pokey shrubs and a cliff, so Emily and Sydney went over a hill and Matt and I had to go back to the road and around. So, all in all, about 33 kilometers: too much. Now I have a terrible blister!

Anyway, it is so great to see them again, and I feel like almost no time has passed. Strange.