On my travels I have realized the overwhelming happiness I get from coming across a place that offers good places to sit. If the place has a good nook, alcove, or secluded spot with a good view,maybe in the shade/sun, or just has an all around good vibe, it is automatically moved to the top of my list. And when there are options between hammocks, couches with lots of pillows, reclining lawn chairs, and bean bag chairs, then the place is definetly five star.
I have also come across another giant revalation on my travels. I have always known, but have never really identified nor put into words my huge dislike for stools and sitting backwards on a hill. Unless the stool is super top grade (which they rarely are), they are mad uncomfortable. My legs just dangle off with no where to put my feet and squeeze my thigh fat over the edge in ugly and uncomfortable fashion. Its like you are niether standing nor sitting when on a stool. The akward in between stage and the force of gravity make it so you are constantly struggling so stay on, which not only hurts your butt after a while but makes me slotch over and hurts my back. Just like stools, sitting backwards on any slant is also mad uncomfortable. Unless you are trying to get an ab workout, no one likes this.
I would also like to mention that sitting with your money belt is one of the more annoying things to do as well.
Sitting on chicken buses is also a huge feat, especially with a backpack. When you think that there is just no more room left, a women comes on selling you mangos and hot empanadas, a fireman comes on asking for donations, and a man that has just had a recent stomach operation is showing you his scar asking for money.
So, after coming to these conclusions about places to sit, Noami and I ended up falling in love with Lake Atitlan. There were just so many amazing places to sit. After making our O.M. sheet (Outcomes and Methods) we made a vow to sit in all of the great places around the hostel before we left-obviously purposely avoiding the stools. Our Outcome was to relax and our Method was to just sit. Lake Atitlan is this super zenned out hippy holistic therapy didgeridoo thai massage vegan tofu scramble kind of place. and thus really lends itself to awesome relaxing places to sit.
La Iguana Perdida, the hostel we stayed in was just what we were looking for. It is designed as this earth lodge kinda place right next to the lake. We stayed in the room "castillo" (meaning castle), which was a cabin with no walls and really felt like we were connected with our surroundings (although Noami might have felt a little too connected to mother nature when she woke up with 5 mosquito bites on her face). We sat in the hammocks under the refreshing shade and read, we sat in the suana sweating out all the bad toxins before jumping into the cold lake, we sat playing apples to apples with a group of friendly travels, we sat curled up together on the most comfy couch watching hilarious movies (my new found favorite is Pinnapple Express), and we sat around a fire playing guitare and singing classic camp fire tunes. My favorite time sitting at the Iguana Perdida was spent around the communal dinner tables. Every night they had a family style meal prepared with soup, whole made bread, a main dish with vegies, tempura, salad, mashed potatoes, pizza, etc, and a dessert. It felt like home. We met this awesome newly wed couple of thier honey moon from L.A. Normly I do not like Southern California kinda people, but these ones were super awesome and seemed like not only lovers, but best friends. maybe one day i will find that and come to lake atitlan to just sit and relax on my honey moon.
Naomi and I journed ourselves to the other side of the lake one day to wonder around until we found an awesome place to sit. After popping into the cooperative artisan shops, where Naomi went crazy and bought wicker shoes, a bag, and a scarf, we found an awesome bench to sit on and drink coke and eat mango. I love sitting on benches in latin america with the locals drinking cocacola out of a glass bottle. the coke in glass bottles is way better cuase it has real sugar and not that high fructose corn syrup shit. There is also no where else in the world where you can find freshly cut mango or watermelon in bags just when you really need it. I have been really trying to maximize on my mango consumtion before i get home. So, after sitting on the bench we migrated like 50 feet to a little cafe that was recomended to us-to sit and eat! It was a wine, coffee, and cheese cafe so we ordered just that. I would like to note that I am still a recovery lactose intolerant patient and so have not indulged myself in a platter of cheeses in over 4 years. That afternoon I said screw it and we slowly and meticulously spread cheese slice after cheese slice on fresh bread dipped in olive oil, vinegar, and honey. Cleansing our palet after each cheese with fancy wine and olives we discussed the taste of each one. We were true cheese conusiers that day. Although the rest of the night and following day my stomach did not agree with me too much, I FUCKING LOVE CHEESE and do not regret any bit of that experience.
The owner of the wine and cheese cafe is one of the few guatamalen jews and looked exactly like a latin version of the father in fiddle on the roof. Jews always find jews around the world. And when we do find our like kind there is always this nice little connection we share together.
So as much as we sat around relaxing and enjoying just being, Naomi and I were also slightly active. We took a hike around part of the lake from our hostel in Santa Cruz to this other town called San Marcos. The journey went by fast as we passed by beautiful five star hotels and private property owned by gringos now leaving in the area. Time also flew by since Naomi and I are both very talkative and chit chatted the whole time about our love for summer camp. When we got to San Marcos we found our way through all the holistic health places and vegetarian cafes to the lake side where we could jump into the lake and rinse the sweat off. There was a really high rock to jump off of, but we are both super wooses about that sort of thing and were content jumping off a five foot high rock instead. That still was kinda scary.
I ran 3 times in 3 days there and did ab workout and some yoga stretching. yeah for me for finally getting off my travelling ass and moving my body. All the yumming pupusas, greasy street food, and delicious comfort food that we had eaten in antigua were really making me feel like a fat blob. my lungs almost exploded on my first 20 minute run. my hopes for coming back home and running the bay to breakers race are becoming slimmer and slimmer.
In Antigua, where Naomi is studying Spanish, I stayed at her house families house and got to feel a little bit at home. It was nice having her show me your city and meeting all of her friends there. We became regulars at Cafe No Se where there is live music every night. Naomi is obsessed with one of the preformers, named Jueves. Not really sure why his name is Thursday, but he makes rad noises out of his mouth that sound like all these different instruments.
In Spanish when you say your phone number you say the numbers in groupings. For instance, 285-4460 is said like "two, eighty five, forty four, sixty". I have decided to memorize my number as one big whole number like this. so i have been working on saying for 415-407-6702, "four billion, one hundred and fifty four million, seventy six thousand, seven hundren and two". Cant wait for the next time someone asks me for my number.
I hadnt travelled with a friend from home in soooo long, so it was a little bit of a transistion when i met up with Naomi in guatamala. But, I soon got used to it. Noami and I have not seen each other in almost 2 years or something, but somehow we actually pulled it together and met up in latin america. And had a grand ol´ time with eath other too. She is an awesome chick and a great travel companion. Although she takes probably 3 times as much time in the morning to get ready, we had such a good time together. She is one of those friends that even after years of not seeing each other, our parrellel interests allow us to easily connect again. She is just as social and talkative as me, loves to dance, try new things, seeks adventure, loves her family dearly (we talked about how much we appreciate our family a lot), and is just as much into eating as me. And did i mention that she break dances-probably one of the few white chicks out there that can get down like that.
I have bought batteries twice now for my camera and head lamp and not one of them has worked. lesson finally learned: never by batteries off the street in latin america.
sábado, 16 de abril de 2011
viernes, 15 de abril de 2011
Loca Loca Loca
I would first like to note that latin american festivals are of a whole nother level than back at home. One of the most amazing things about this continent is that food and beer comes directly too you. You dont have to wait around at any stupid long ass lines waiting for a falafal that you end up consuming in under 2 minutes. Or having to stand for days waiting for a overprice bottle of water. Instead, at the TigoFest in Guatamala City, the vendors come up to you selling you things. And way better things too. Tacos, meat on sticks, bowls of yummy salsa stuff, grilled meat with tortillas and guacamole, donuts, fruit with white chocolate drizzel (actually it looked more like mayo drizzled on top), and cheap cheap beer. Guatamala`s popular beer is called Gallo (which means rooster) and when you order it you can just put your open hand up to your forhead to make a rooster symbol. great tradition.
So I got to experience this amazing latin america all day festival. and the headliner of the day was SHAKIRA!!! It was really the pinnacle of all reggaeton discoteca parties ever. i mean, who does not like shakira or at least seeing a beautiful colombian women shake her booty around and pop her chest. Her show was really out of control. although pinned tight around other shakira fanatics and difficult to actually copy her moves and dance along, i was mesmorized by her show. she sang all her songs in spanish (except for the oh so famous hips dont lie song), which was super fantastic. she had this amazing move where she would fling her long beautiful hair around like a rock star. and then of course pop her chest and move her hips like they were literally disconnected from her body. i have no idea how she does it, but i must learn. and not to mention her 5 costume changes. I mean, who can pull off a tiger print skirt that looked like she had just killed and skinned the tiger yesterday and wrapped it around her waist with a belly dancer jingly skirt on top. really pushing boundaries. she also performed this beautiful tango dance where she started out in this crazy big blue dress and then ripped it off her. good shit.
After leaving the stage for a good 10 minutes she built the crowd up for her grand finale of Waka Waka. Everyones all time favorite african song! as she sang she had all these kids come on stage and dance around with a slide show of disadvantaged looking african children on in the background. so profound. fireworks were ignited, highschool girls screamed their heads off, and i went crazy.
Besides from the climax of Shakira it was a whole day festival with some of the top reggaeton and latin artists. Don Omar with his Mano Arriba song and hasta abajo, and Chino y Nacho with the Nina Bonita song and Tu Angelita Soy Yo song. If you have at all spent time in the last couple of months in latin america or listen to 100.7 reggaeton y mas on the radio you are all probably familar with the majority of these songs. Don Omar is like the latin version of Kanya West. His music videos are him on fancy yatchs and pimp houses with pretty girls. And Chino in the Chino y Nacho couple is super sexy and took his shirt off at the end of the show. My friend Naomi and I really liked this part of our day.
the only negative part of our day was that someone bear by in the crowd was ripping major ass. It smelled super bad every so often. But I guess thats the joy of being in large crowds...you can fart and be completely unknown.
We came across these two gringo dudes who were dancing around like it was a festival in the states. Super hippy like, crazy, arms everywhere, leg kicks, etc. It was definetly out of place in a crowd of mostly latinos who dance much different than the improve dance style we have back at home. anyways, we were drawn to our own kind for a second and started talking to them. We quickly regreted the conversation because one of the guys (the one that looked like owen wilson) started blabbering on and on about his junior cousin (which i think meant his cousin once removed or something). all we wanted was to get icecream. Naomi stopped paying attention and I was left trying to make really akward conversation about a junior cousin. what the fuck?
I ate this nastiest thing ever inside the festival. i ate an uncooked hotdog in bun with cabbage covered all over it. its a bad idea to put cabbage on a hotdog cuase it just makes the bun super soggy. uncooked hotdog with soggy bun. i cant believe i finished it.
I have never been more lucky than to experience a full day of live reggaeton music, latin balladas, and shakira. oh and i got to give major props to all of the backup dancers. I had a dream last night where I got to be like 5 meters from shakira walking up some stairs. i said hi to her and she responded back! i think this means we might be friends one day.
So I got to experience this amazing latin america all day festival. and the headliner of the day was SHAKIRA!!! It was really the pinnacle of all reggaeton discoteca parties ever. i mean, who does not like shakira or at least seeing a beautiful colombian women shake her booty around and pop her chest. Her show was really out of control. although pinned tight around other shakira fanatics and difficult to actually copy her moves and dance along, i was mesmorized by her show. she sang all her songs in spanish (except for the oh so famous hips dont lie song), which was super fantastic. she had this amazing move where she would fling her long beautiful hair around like a rock star. and then of course pop her chest and move her hips like they were literally disconnected from her body. i have no idea how she does it, but i must learn. and not to mention her 5 costume changes. I mean, who can pull off a tiger print skirt that looked like she had just killed and skinned the tiger yesterday and wrapped it around her waist with a belly dancer jingly skirt on top. really pushing boundaries. she also performed this beautiful tango dance where she started out in this crazy big blue dress and then ripped it off her. good shit.
After leaving the stage for a good 10 minutes she built the crowd up for her grand finale of Waka Waka. Everyones all time favorite african song! as she sang she had all these kids come on stage and dance around with a slide show of disadvantaged looking african children on in the background. so profound. fireworks were ignited, highschool girls screamed their heads off, and i went crazy.
Besides from the climax of Shakira it was a whole day festival with some of the top reggaeton and latin artists. Don Omar with his Mano Arriba song and hasta abajo, and Chino y Nacho with the Nina Bonita song and Tu Angelita Soy Yo song. If you have at all spent time in the last couple of months in latin america or listen to 100.7 reggaeton y mas on the radio you are all probably familar with the majority of these songs. Don Omar is like the latin version of Kanya West. His music videos are him on fancy yatchs and pimp houses with pretty girls. And Chino in the Chino y Nacho couple is super sexy and took his shirt off at the end of the show. My friend Naomi and I really liked this part of our day.
the only negative part of our day was that someone bear by in the crowd was ripping major ass. It smelled super bad every so often. But I guess thats the joy of being in large crowds...you can fart and be completely unknown.
We came across these two gringo dudes who were dancing around like it was a festival in the states. Super hippy like, crazy, arms everywhere, leg kicks, etc. It was definetly out of place in a crowd of mostly latinos who dance much different than the improve dance style we have back at home. anyways, we were drawn to our own kind for a second and started talking to them. We quickly regreted the conversation because one of the guys (the one that looked like owen wilson) started blabbering on and on about his junior cousin (which i think meant his cousin once removed or something). all we wanted was to get icecream. Naomi stopped paying attention and I was left trying to make really akward conversation about a junior cousin. what the fuck?
I ate this nastiest thing ever inside the festival. i ate an uncooked hotdog in bun with cabbage covered all over it. its a bad idea to put cabbage on a hotdog cuase it just makes the bun super soggy. uncooked hotdog with soggy bun. i cant believe i finished it.
I have never been more lucky than to experience a full day of live reggaeton music, latin balladas, and shakira. oh and i got to give major props to all of the backup dancers. I had a dream last night where I got to be like 5 meters from shakira walking up some stairs. i said hi to her and she responded back! i think this means we might be friends one day.
viernes, 8 de abril de 2011
The Perfect Marshmellow
On April 7th 2011 at 6:32pm Kate Harrison made the perfect marshmellow.
Naomi and I signed up for a tour to climb and spend the night sleeping on Volcano Pacaya. Although it might sound strenous and all to climb a volcano, it was more like an hour walk up there so we could get to a really hot steam vent thing that released so much heat we could gorge ourselves on s´mores and spend the night hanging out around a camp fire. super cush. We found giant sticks long enough to toast our marshmellows all the way down into the crevasse. and in under 3 minutes the marshmellows were perfectly golden brown. Crispy brown on the outside and soft and melty on the inside. Now if you are the type of person that likes to burn their marshmellows this would not be the place for you. There is no fire to stick the marshmellow in and burn the living hell out of it. This lava vent is only for the more sophisticated and dedicated s´more makers that like to really perfect the art of golden browning.
The australian we were with had her first s´more. it was an honor to witness.
We fell happily asleep after being super immature and laughing about poop and farts with lots of marshmellow and chocolate in our stomachs. It was a well spent night.
Off to shake my sweet ass to shakira tomorrow!! woohoo!
Naomi and I signed up for a tour to climb and spend the night sleeping on Volcano Pacaya. Although it might sound strenous and all to climb a volcano, it was more like an hour walk up there so we could get to a really hot steam vent thing that released so much heat we could gorge ourselves on s´mores and spend the night hanging out around a camp fire. super cush. We found giant sticks long enough to toast our marshmellows all the way down into the crevasse. and in under 3 minutes the marshmellows were perfectly golden brown. Crispy brown on the outside and soft and melty on the inside. Now if you are the type of person that likes to burn their marshmellows this would not be the place for you. There is no fire to stick the marshmellow in and burn the living hell out of it. This lava vent is only for the more sophisticated and dedicated s´more makers that like to really perfect the art of golden browning.
The australian we were with had her first s´more. it was an honor to witness.
We fell happily asleep after being super immature and laughing about poop and farts with lots of marshmellow and chocolate in our stomachs. It was a well spent night.
Off to shake my sweet ass to shakira tomorrow!! woohoo!
Good Vibes
My first day in Guatamala was defined by salsa. I met my friend, Naomi, who I have not seen in ages in Antigua. I spent the hour long shuttle ride from the airport to Antigua with this super crazy older man from Germany. He was a holistic health therapist or something coming to work on Lake Atitlan to do spiritual hippy like things for tourists there. He was just going on and on about how he just wanted to touch the ground and feel the presence of guatamala and how it just felt so right that he was here now. He smiled and sang to himself the whole ride on the shuttle stoked on life. All I knew is I would never want this kinda creepy overly spiritual man giving my a holistic rub down massage or something.
Anyways, I showed up to Antigua and ran into the warm embrace of my long time friend Naomi. She is one of the girls that no matter where in life we are or how ever long passes not seeing her, we will still be good friends. Her excitement for spanish, latin lovers, dancing salsa, learning break dancing, hiking, being loud, and generally just enjoying the joys of life is just like mine. Becuase of this, in the first half day of being with her we took two salsa lessons (one private and one group) and went to a salsa club. Such a good sweat. I have decided I must start taking Salsa lessons when I get back home. I really want to be one of those gringas who can just bust out with the latin dance moves. I plan to get in contact with my good friend Shakira tomorrow when I see her at the concert and ask her for free dance lessons. She has just been super busy these months on tour and hasnt been able to spend much time with me.
I had this really great moment the night of the salsa club. Naomi and I were walking home and came across one of her friends hanging out with a couple other guys on the street. One looked exactly like a super stoned joney depp from pirates of the caribean. So I was going around kissing them all on the cheek (cuase thats how you introduce yourself here in latin america), and I was unaware that one of them was blind. So I had this super awkward interaction trying to figure out how to kiss him on the cheek. It definetly caught me off guard at first. However, he turned out to be super cool and told us that the best part about being blind was the fact that he could always walk passed security without them stopping him. Never had really thought about that benefit of being blind, but he has a very good point.
I had a major freak out moment when I realized I had forgotten my new bathing suit at the hostel in Panama. However, life is just good to me, cuase my friends who were in my same hostel room picked it up and will mail it to me. YEAH!!! This bathing suit means a lot to me. It is costum made bright pink and green and makes me look tanner than i actually am. it would have been a huge loss. i almost cried.
Anyways, I showed up to Antigua and ran into the warm embrace of my long time friend Naomi. She is one of the girls that no matter where in life we are or how ever long passes not seeing her, we will still be good friends. Her excitement for spanish, latin lovers, dancing salsa, learning break dancing, hiking, being loud, and generally just enjoying the joys of life is just like mine. Becuase of this, in the first half day of being with her we took two salsa lessons (one private and one group) and went to a salsa club. Such a good sweat. I have decided I must start taking Salsa lessons when I get back home. I really want to be one of those gringas who can just bust out with the latin dance moves. I plan to get in contact with my good friend Shakira tomorrow when I see her at the concert and ask her for free dance lessons. She has just been super busy these months on tour and hasnt been able to spend much time with me.
I had this really great moment the night of the salsa club. Naomi and I were walking home and came across one of her friends hanging out with a couple other guys on the street. One looked exactly like a super stoned joney depp from pirates of the caribean. So I was going around kissing them all on the cheek (cuase thats how you introduce yourself here in latin america), and I was unaware that one of them was blind. So I had this super awkward interaction trying to figure out how to kiss him on the cheek. It definetly caught me off guard at first. However, he turned out to be super cool and told us that the best part about being blind was the fact that he could always walk passed security without them stopping him. Never had really thought about that benefit of being blind, but he has a very good point.
I had a major freak out moment when I realized I had forgotten my new bathing suit at the hostel in Panama. However, life is just good to me, cuase my friends who were in my same hostel room picked it up and will mail it to me. YEAH!!! This bathing suit means a lot to me. It is costum made bright pink and green and makes me look tanner than i actually am. it would have been a huge loss. i almost cried.
Crazy Taxi Rides
Panama has some fucked up taxis. Almost every taxi ride I went on in Panama city ended up bad.
Taxi ride numero uno: Our taxi driver got pulled over becuase he illegally turned left. He had not paid 3 of his last tickets and so was going to have to pay a butt ton more for this infraction. sucks to be him.
Taxi ride numero dos: a kinda scary looking homeless man on crutches was asking us for money. our taxi driver rolled up all of his windows so the man could not ask us for money. The bum got super mad and smashed his crutch into the side of the taxi. the taxi driver got out and yelled at the old homeless man.
Taxi ride numero tres: Heading back at midnight after celebrating our last meal together, Danya and Roxaine and I got pulled over in the taxi. The police were checking everyones (the taxi drivers and the passengers included) identification. Apparently it is a rule in Panama that foreigners have to carry a passport with them at all times. However, if you are at all an experienced traveler you know that carrying your passport where ever you go is a huge risk. If it gets stolen it is your only way out of the country, so everyone just keeps them locked up in the hostels. So obviously we were not carrying our passports. duh. but it is a huge fine if you dont have them to show the police. what the fuck. we had to sit out on the street corner in the middle of the night like we were prostitutes or something, waiting almost an hour for the tourist police to show up. When he finally got there, he escorted us back to our hostel to look at our passports. It was actually pretty cool walking into the hostel with the police. We felt really bad ass.
Taxi ride numero cuatro: The taxi driver was super high or something and was driving crazy. He was blabbering on about how much he loved us. He told the one Czech guy we were travelling with that he loved him. Thank god the ride was super short, cuase I was super fearing for my life. When we got to our final destination the taxi driver wouldnt accept our money. He said that the ride was free since he loved us so much. So all worked out in the end. We survived and we didnt have to pay.
Moral of story: Do NOT ride taxis in Panama city unless you travel with a copy of your passport, have extra coins to give to bums, and you check the driver for sobriety before entering.
Taxi ride numero uno: Our taxi driver got pulled over becuase he illegally turned left. He had not paid 3 of his last tickets and so was going to have to pay a butt ton more for this infraction. sucks to be him.
Taxi ride numero dos: a kinda scary looking homeless man on crutches was asking us for money. our taxi driver rolled up all of his windows so the man could not ask us for money. The bum got super mad and smashed his crutch into the side of the taxi. the taxi driver got out and yelled at the old homeless man.
Taxi ride numero tres: Heading back at midnight after celebrating our last meal together, Danya and Roxaine and I got pulled over in the taxi. The police were checking everyones (the taxi drivers and the passengers included) identification. Apparently it is a rule in Panama that foreigners have to carry a passport with them at all times. However, if you are at all an experienced traveler you know that carrying your passport where ever you go is a huge risk. If it gets stolen it is your only way out of the country, so everyone just keeps them locked up in the hostels. So obviously we were not carrying our passports. duh. but it is a huge fine if you dont have them to show the police. what the fuck. we had to sit out on the street corner in the middle of the night like we were prostitutes or something, waiting almost an hour for the tourist police to show up. When he finally got there, he escorted us back to our hostel to look at our passports. It was actually pretty cool walking into the hostel with the police. We felt really bad ass.
Taxi ride numero cuatro: The taxi driver was super high or something and was driving crazy. He was blabbering on about how much he loved us. He told the one Czech guy we were travelling with that he loved him. Thank god the ride was super short, cuase I was super fearing for my life. When we got to our final destination the taxi driver wouldnt accept our money. He said that the ride was free since he loved us so much. So all worked out in the end. We survived and we didnt have to pay.
Moral of story: Do NOT ride taxis in Panama city unless you travel with a copy of your passport, have extra coins to give to bums, and you check the driver for sobriety before entering.
lunes, 4 de abril de 2011
Her Hips Dont Lie
Shakira´s hips dont lie, and niether do mine. I would like to announce to the world wide web of bloggers that on April 9th, 2011 Kate Harrison will be seeing in real life the movements of Shakiras hips and her infamous and sexy chest pop moves. Shakira is on Latin America tour right now and will be passing through Guatamala city right when I get there. Could there be any better coincidence in life than this? I think not. And for those of you who do not know my love for her, it should be made clear that if i could pick any artist to be, i would hands down choose Shakira. Pure talent.
I got to Panama city yesterday and have already been to the giant mall 3 times. There is really not much going on in Panama city and so the crew I was travelling with (my boat crew) all decided that our time would best be spent going to the movies, shopping in american stores for real clothes, and eating at the food court (i got my sushi on twice there!). We saw Invasion del Mundo, which is about aliens invading L.A. and is shit. one of those movies where teh music nevers stops and is just pure entertainment, but a horrible script.good buttery popcorn though.
Like all good tourist I went to the Panama Canal today. I was welcomed by a hundred american tourists. God i sometimes hate seeing my own kind travelling-really embarrassing some times. I thought it was going to be a super lame tourist attraction, but seeing the locks open and close was actaully pretty interesting. The industrial revolution at its finest.
I hear that plastic surgery in Colombia is really cheap. Apparently loads of chicks go to Medellin and Cali and get boob and butt jobs. The offer deals where you get the surgery done and then a week of spa and vacation treatment or something. Good to note down for future travel plans...
Huge revolutionary moment: This american chick who I travelled with on the boat with, Roxaine, and I were blown away the other day. We noticed that the American dime (our ten cent piece) does not have the actual value of 10 written on it. All of the other american coins have the value written on it, except this one. Which is totally messed up. This implies that america assumes that all foreighners should either be literate enough to read the word "dime" and be able to interpret the value, or that they should just know our coin system so well already cause we are the center of the world. We have decided to write the president on this matter. It it also quite strange that the US is the only country that has names for all of their coins (quarter, nickle, dime, penny). no where else in the world has names for their cents. quite bizarre.
when you have a chance, check out the dime and just imagine if you were a foreigner and did not know how to interpret our monetary system. it would be quite confusing.
I got to Panama city yesterday and have already been to the giant mall 3 times. There is really not much going on in Panama city and so the crew I was travelling with (my boat crew) all decided that our time would best be spent going to the movies, shopping in american stores for real clothes, and eating at the food court (i got my sushi on twice there!). We saw Invasion del Mundo, which is about aliens invading L.A. and is shit. one of those movies where teh music nevers stops and is just pure entertainment, but a horrible script.good buttery popcorn though.
Like all good tourist I went to the Panama Canal today. I was welcomed by a hundred american tourists. God i sometimes hate seeing my own kind travelling-really embarrassing some times. I thought it was going to be a super lame tourist attraction, but seeing the locks open and close was actaully pretty interesting. The industrial revolution at its finest.
I hear that plastic surgery in Colombia is really cheap. Apparently loads of chicks go to Medellin and Cali and get boob and butt jobs. The offer deals where you get the surgery done and then a week of spa and vacation treatment or something. Good to note down for future travel plans...
Huge revolutionary moment: This american chick who I travelled with on the boat with, Roxaine, and I were blown away the other day. We noticed that the American dime (our ten cent piece) does not have the actual value of 10 written on it. All of the other american coins have the value written on it, except this one. Which is totally messed up. This implies that america assumes that all foreighners should either be literate enough to read the word "dime" and be able to interpret the value, or that they should just know our coin system so well already cause we are the center of the world. We have decided to write the president on this matter. It it also quite strange that the US is the only country that has names for all of their coins (quarter, nickle, dime, penny). no where else in the world has names for their cents. quite bizarre.
when you have a chance, check out the dime and just imagine if you were a foreigner and did not know how to interpret our monetary system. it would be quite confusing.
Pillaging and Plundering Pirates
I just spent the last 5 days pretending I was a pirate on the high seas of the Caribbean Ocean. I really perfected my "arrg" "ahoy matey" and my "yo ho ho ho a pirates life for me" phrases. Our german captain, Konnie, was probably super sick of hearing us pretending to be pirates (especially since every tour group he takes out probably does the exact same thing). Despite that, being the good pirates we all were, we stocked ourselves with handles of cheap rum and one good bottle of Captain Morgans-cause every pirate needs that. We also got a bottle of champagne to make a music video to "I´m On a Boat", cause we thought that was also quite fitting. Too bad we didnt have enough time in Colombia to find eye patches before we "up-anchored-arrg".
After all the build up for our departure, our excitement was quickly squashed when we realized that sailing is actually not all fun and games. The actual act of sailing is really not all thats its cracked up to be. its one of those unfortunate situations where the destination is far better than the journey. The sailing part was pretty damn shitty and the whole island seeing land and swimming part was fantastic. I pretty much felt like shit the second we started. Night time came fast and I couldnt focus my eyes on any horizon line or anything, so i got super sea sick. I was the first and only to vomit on the trip (puked in a plastic bag that started to leak right next to this girl sharing my bed with me-oops). Puked up chile dinner too, which looked exactly like what i had ingested an hour earlier. I am still super confused why Captain K decided to serve chile the first night (grossest thing ever to vomit up). He could have chosen pasta or sandwiches or something lighter. I then spent the next 35ish hours in the horizontal position. I squeezed myself into this little benth under the little shade the boat had to offer and didnt move unless I really had to pee or sit up to eat bread or pasta. And I wasnt even able to finish even one cup of rum and coke (the coke was warm and flat in like 3 hours too which was gross). Guess i am not such a good pirate after all.
However, because the journey was just shit, the destination felt ten million times better. We got to the San Blas Islands off the coast of Panama in after two days of hell got to jump into the crystal clear sea. It was straight out of a postcard. Sea stars the size of my face, perfect shells to collect, amazing coral reefs to explore, palm trees blowing in the wind, white sand beaches to do yoga on. It was like "Finding Nemo" meets "Little Mermaid". The last night we spent on an island occupied by the Indegenous Koni people. I am pretty sure we met the exact same women that is on the cover of the Panama Lonely Planet book. We spent the night eating fresh lobster that they caught for us, smoking lots of green herb (it was a good medicinal cure for my sea sickness), and roasting marshmellows over a giant bomb fire of palm tree leaves. The Germain captain and the Czech couple in our group had never had marshmellows before. They thought they were too sweet and just concluded that Americans eat way too sweet of things and are fat asses. Probably true.
Raul was our Koni friend we met who spent the night talking my ear off in spanish about how fantastic he was. Biggest frickin´ lier I have ever met. I didnt believe one word of his stories about how nice he is, how he wants to buy his own property to house his family, how he had actually died as a baby but a healer women cured him and told him that he would only be able to live till age 37 (which gives him 6 more years of life left). I fell asleep on the boat deck listening to Raul shit faced drunk swimming in the water yelling out random words in english. Nice peaceful way to fall asleep-looking up at the beautiful stars in the middle of the caribean sea listening to drunk indigenous man half drowning in the water.
Learned a new phrase: Aqua Turd. It is when you pull down your bathing suit in the middle of the ocean and take a dump and then swim away to escape the scene. The cute australian couple taught me it. Someone had laid a fat turd in the toilet on the boat that did not fit down the small little tube that was used to pressure suck the shits out. no one claimed it, so it just sat there for a while and we all got pretty desperate. So we had to resort to the aqua turd. it leaves you feeling quite clean.
Oh, so this story was definelty not in the brochure that we got before the trip left: There was a murder that just took place like 2 months ago right by the islands we stayed at. A Spanish captain who was also chartering backpackers across the sea got cuaght on a reef in bad weather and sunk his boat. Everyone on board was fine and the backpackers were taken care of by a nice American sailer man named Red Dog (thats apparently his new indigenous name). However, the Spanish captian went crazy and a month later decided to hijack someone elses sail boat and killed the captain of the boat. A while later he killed two other captains by stabbing them and tieing them around their anchor lines and throwing them into the water. He was eventually cuaght a month ago becuase he was using the credit cards of the captains. Dumb ass. I got to snorkel around his ship wrecked boat and was super freaked out that a dead body was going to float out of it. Dead bodies definetly hang around ship wrecks. True fact.
Could thing the rents didnt know about this story before I decided to go on the boat trip. They would have freaked out.
So after perfecting the aqua turd, barfing up chile, coming in close contact to Spanish murderers, and meeting indigenous chronic liers, I was more than happy to see the main land again. I spent my first night back on land showering off layers of sunscreen and salt water and eating fantastic pizza made from the crazy austrian hostel owner. she owned a really cute baby sloth that was carried by her really cute kid (none of us knew if the kid was a boy or a girl-it was hard to tell).
It took me a full 24 hours to feel like i was not still on the boat and swaying back and forth. I dont understand how these captains sail for like 5 years all around the world. I would go luney.
Arrg (that means "good bye" in pirate talk)
After all the build up for our departure, our excitement was quickly squashed when we realized that sailing is actually not all fun and games. The actual act of sailing is really not all thats its cracked up to be. its one of those unfortunate situations where the destination is far better than the journey. The sailing part was pretty damn shitty and the whole island seeing land and swimming part was fantastic. I pretty much felt like shit the second we started. Night time came fast and I couldnt focus my eyes on any horizon line or anything, so i got super sea sick. I was the first and only to vomit on the trip (puked in a plastic bag that started to leak right next to this girl sharing my bed with me-oops). Puked up chile dinner too, which looked exactly like what i had ingested an hour earlier. I am still super confused why Captain K decided to serve chile the first night (grossest thing ever to vomit up). He could have chosen pasta or sandwiches or something lighter. I then spent the next 35ish hours in the horizontal position. I squeezed myself into this little benth under the little shade the boat had to offer and didnt move unless I really had to pee or sit up to eat bread or pasta. And I wasnt even able to finish even one cup of rum and coke (the coke was warm and flat in like 3 hours too which was gross). Guess i am not such a good pirate after all.
However, because the journey was just shit, the destination felt ten million times better. We got to the San Blas Islands off the coast of Panama in after two days of hell got to jump into the crystal clear sea. It was straight out of a postcard. Sea stars the size of my face, perfect shells to collect, amazing coral reefs to explore, palm trees blowing in the wind, white sand beaches to do yoga on. It was like "Finding Nemo" meets "Little Mermaid". The last night we spent on an island occupied by the Indegenous Koni people. I am pretty sure we met the exact same women that is on the cover of the Panama Lonely Planet book. We spent the night eating fresh lobster that they caught for us, smoking lots of green herb (it was a good medicinal cure for my sea sickness), and roasting marshmellows over a giant bomb fire of palm tree leaves. The Germain captain and the Czech couple in our group had never had marshmellows before. They thought they were too sweet and just concluded that Americans eat way too sweet of things and are fat asses. Probably true.
Raul was our Koni friend we met who spent the night talking my ear off in spanish about how fantastic he was. Biggest frickin´ lier I have ever met. I didnt believe one word of his stories about how nice he is, how he wants to buy his own property to house his family, how he had actually died as a baby but a healer women cured him and told him that he would only be able to live till age 37 (which gives him 6 more years of life left). I fell asleep on the boat deck listening to Raul shit faced drunk swimming in the water yelling out random words in english. Nice peaceful way to fall asleep-looking up at the beautiful stars in the middle of the caribean sea listening to drunk indigenous man half drowning in the water.
Learned a new phrase: Aqua Turd. It is when you pull down your bathing suit in the middle of the ocean and take a dump and then swim away to escape the scene. The cute australian couple taught me it. Someone had laid a fat turd in the toilet on the boat that did not fit down the small little tube that was used to pressure suck the shits out. no one claimed it, so it just sat there for a while and we all got pretty desperate. So we had to resort to the aqua turd. it leaves you feeling quite clean.
Oh, so this story was definelty not in the brochure that we got before the trip left: There was a murder that just took place like 2 months ago right by the islands we stayed at. A Spanish captain who was also chartering backpackers across the sea got cuaght on a reef in bad weather and sunk his boat. Everyone on board was fine and the backpackers were taken care of by a nice American sailer man named Red Dog (thats apparently his new indigenous name). However, the Spanish captian went crazy and a month later decided to hijack someone elses sail boat and killed the captain of the boat. A while later he killed two other captains by stabbing them and tieing them around their anchor lines and throwing them into the water. He was eventually cuaght a month ago becuase he was using the credit cards of the captains. Dumb ass. I got to snorkel around his ship wrecked boat and was super freaked out that a dead body was going to float out of it. Dead bodies definetly hang around ship wrecks. True fact.
Could thing the rents didnt know about this story before I decided to go on the boat trip. They would have freaked out.
So after perfecting the aqua turd, barfing up chile, coming in close contact to Spanish murderers, and meeting indigenous chronic liers, I was more than happy to see the main land again. I spent my first night back on land showering off layers of sunscreen and salt water and eating fantastic pizza made from the crazy austrian hostel owner. she owned a really cute baby sloth that was carried by her really cute kid (none of us knew if the kid was a boy or a girl-it was hard to tell).
It took me a full 24 hours to feel like i was not still on the boat and swaying back and forth. I dont understand how these captains sail for like 5 years all around the world. I would go luney.
Arrg (that means "good bye" in pirate talk)
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