Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Smiling in Cali

As I type this I am lying in a hammock at our hostel in Cali, Colombia, which is incredibly famous for it's amazing salsa dancing. I am taking a wee break from reading my very first novel in Spanish (I'm pretty sure it is going to take me three years. Do you know how many words there are in a language?). We arrived in Cali (actually in Colombia) on Saturday, and have since experienced the usual confusion around currency, and I don't really mean just straight conversion, which I can figure out (it's almost 2000 Colombian pesos to one dollar), but more about how much things cost, when is someone ripping you off, and how much money is enough to bring for a night of dancing? It all hurts my head.
On Saturday night we went out with a group from the hostel to this dicey little salsa bar that was packed full of Colombians, many of whom had spilled out onto the street and were dancing outside. I was so pleasantly surprised to see that not everyone was dancing 'Cali style', which is extremely fast and complicated, and I have no idea how to do it. Yet. It was great fun.
J and I went to the zoo here on Sunday, which was fun, though it really was something of a fashion show. There were so many young families there. We discovered that Colombians dress well! Even the little kids are dressed like miniature adults. I felt slightly under dressed.
We completely lucked out with our hostel, they offer free yoga and salsa classes (which is very unusual), and makes me feel so happy. We had our first class yesterday, and then J and I went for a run and then a group from our hostel went to a salsa place where the 'professionals' go (on a Monday!). It was completely amazing. I hace never seen people dance like that before, there was more than one would champion in the club.
We had yoga this morning at 7:00 sm, and this afternoon I start my private salsa lessons.

I can't stop smiling.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

South American 'Pee' Walker

Due to time/money/and priorities, J and I have only one week in Ecuador (we gots to get ourselves to Colombia!!). All I can say is that it has thus far been quite eventful. We stayed at an adorable hostel in Baños, which was surrounded by volcanoes and lush green mountains, with a rooftop terrace with beautiful views, and delicious breakfast (homemade bread and jam? Yes, please!). I went white water rafting (alone, poor J was sick, which was sucky), and had sooo much fun. Baños is famous for their hot springs so we went to the baths twice, which is always so relaxing. We also decided to go for massages, which turned into a hilarious escapade in itself. It was basically a couple's massage (though there was a divider between our beds...), which involved the massage therapist climbing up onto the bed for a minute (I'm guessing for a better angle?) psuedo-straddling us, and later nearly got an elbow to the face for nearly tickling my armpits (word of warning, I am extremely ticklish). The whole experience provided us with a LOT of laughs, and some relaxation (you know, the world of traveling is pretty tough). Yesterday we climbed up to 4810 meteres on Volcan Cotopaxi (however, we were definitely driven a gooood distance up the volcano), for about two hours, which nearly killed me. After we took a bus to Quito, where we arrived safely to our hostel.

As always, the altitude was killing me (I am such a wussy), so after dinner I went to lay down. I fell asleep pretty early and slept until around 4 am when I heard some whispering, which sounded strangely like it was coming from J's bed (which was a very, very high top bunk above me). I decided to ignore it and then I heard a really strangle tinkling noise. I thought maybe J had spilled water, or it had started raining, still deciding I am going to ignore this. Until, that is, J leans over the edge of her bed and says to me 'Hey Mel! Wake up for a minute! This girl just peed on my bed!'. Well. I can't think of anything better to grab your attention. I sat straight up, staring at this girl, who looked a bit bewildered. I asked her why she would do that, and she said 'I'm sorry. We are in Ecuador, a South American country. There aren't very many toilets here.' NOTE: there was a bathroom directly outside of our dorm room. J and I both sat there, staring at this girl, looking dumbfounded. I think I repeated a couple times 'You don't pee on people's beds'. Which, believe me, is something I never thought I would say, at least, not to an adult.

She didn't look drunk, but I assume there had to be something going on for her to think that was an acceptable solution to the alleged (false) lack of toilets in Ecuador. The worst thing is that I think I know her. I am pretty sure she was in my rafting group.

Awwwwkward.

After the girl left our room (apparently she wasn't even staying at our hostel, some dude in our room brought her home) everyone woke up and we all had a good laugh. But, only after J made sure she moved all her belongings away from the ladder, as there was a wee bit o' urine running down it.

We have had a lot of random experiences in dorm rooms. I am preeeetty sure that one takes the cake.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Love of theme parties? Confirmed.

J and I just spent last week in Mancora, Peru, on the north coast of the country. It was, in one word, amazing. We had so much fun, and it was the first time I really did not want to leave somewhere.

We stayed at 'Loki', which is a chain of hostels here in South America (with locations in Cusco, Lima, La Paz and Mancora), and they have  reputation for being party hostels. This was our first experience with Loki and we were completely pleased! We arrived to discover that our hostel was really more of a backpacker resort, what with its pool (and loungers), bar, restaurant, beach front location, and beautiful large building and rooms!

Our roomie there was a wonderfully hilarious Vancouverite with an affinity for Halifax (she went to Dal for one year), which earned her major points with us. She affectionately referred to us as 'Canada'.

We started our stay at Loki off slowly, taking it easy on our first night, going to bed early, while Vancouver entertained other guests on our balcony with a bottle of whisky (even at Loki this is definitely not allowed). She informed us (several times) that we were a disgrace to our province (sorry, Nova Scotia), and that she had high expectations for us the next night.

We brought our B game the next night, and mastered the art of adult sized Jenga (so much better than regular Jenga), made some new friends (particularly from Isreal), and somehow ended up at a local's party. I woke up the next morning feeling pretty tired, and wearing my watch in my hair as an elastic (it was a sport watch that was really more of an elastic bracelet with a watch face in it. At this point it was five days old).

Our third night at Loki we had gone to bed and were woken up by Vancouver who was informing us that she was bringing a friend home to have some whisky (she is a good host). She assured us that we did not have to worry, because she and the dude were just friends. He arrives at our room and they are on the balcony when we are able to hear Vancouver say loudly, 'if you try to kiss me, I swear, I'll punch you right in the face'. Not surprisingly, her friend left shortly following this.

Our last night at Loki happened to be Friday the 13th, and they were having a horror party, costumes strongly encouraged. I love theme/costume parties. I love them. The three of us spent the afternoon finding identical Mancora tank tops and red lip stick. We dressed up like 'haunted 222', which was our room number. Really we just looked like zombies, which was okay with us. Vancouver could be heard yelling from our balcony to anyone who was walking past, asking them if they 'wanted to get dead'. Most people wanted to get dead, and by the end of the night Vancouver had definitely spread the zombie love. The night was so much fun and included a choregraphed scary dance to 'Thriller', which was executed on the bar.

It was so much fun. However, we had booked a 9 am bus to Ecuador for the next morning (after horror night? What were we thinking?). I woke up, alone, in our room, missing my flip flops, zombie tank top, one hoop earring, my nose ring, and being completely confused. I was terrified I had over slept and looked frantically at my watch, only to find that the actual watch part of the bracelet was completely missing. Panic ensues, as I am sure I have missed the bus and J is currently en route to Ecuador (which I now realize would never actually happen..). I was running around like a maniac, throwing the last of my things into big mama. I eventually located J at breakfast and discovered that I was up in plenty of time. We caught the bus and made it safely into Ecuador.

Only problem is we now both have pink eye.

I completely blame it on Loki.

Totally worth it.

Family Ties

We left Cusco a week ago and I am still thinking about the whole Spanish school/living with a family experience. I always enjoy Spanish school (though have discovered that 2 week stints are much easier on the brain than 4 weeks..too much!), but living with a family made this a much richer (and more relevant!) experience. I found myself thinking in Spanish all the time (even in my sleep!) and believe I benefitted from the experience, academically.

Aside from that it was so refreshing to be in a residential neighbourhood, where people were going about their daily lives - moms and dads picking up their little kiddies from school (so adorable all decked out in their school unis!). It was wonderful to live on a street where the neighbours greet you with 'Buenas tardes' and ¿Como estas? instead of being greeted with offers for cheap massages or various animal noises. The offers of massages generally came from women on the street who were employed by Cusco's various spas (we still aren't sure of the credibility), but sometimes they were from creepy men on the street, like one dude who offered us 'free massage, all night long'. No, gracias.

In the neighbourhood I was living, when people stared they were generally just curious about the giant white girl who was bigger (in all ways) than the men - nevermind the women. The closer you got to the plaza de armas things would get a bit creepier, and a whole lot less authentic, mostly because the plaza and the surrounding streets are directed entirely at tourism, which is the lifeblood of this beautiful and magnificent city.
It has been such an incredible opportunity to see how a 'normal' (whatever that means) middle class, Peruvian family lives and interacts with each other. The family I lived with was so wonderful,  and I loved seeing the family together (they would do adorable things like pull a mattress into the living room for family movie night and all snuggle up), which consisted of the parents (who had been together for 11 years), and their two children, Octavio (8 years old) and Aldahana (5 years old). The whole family was very obviously very happy together and the parents' interactions with each other were coloured with love (for each other and their children), and their lives centered around their children, which made me feel all nice and warm on the inside.

It was such a fabulous experience, they were the best. Plus, they kept calling me 'Meli'.

Love them, love Cusco.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

It's the Little Things...

We are into month four of this six month adventure, and I really could not be happier. As I already mentioned, we are in week two of two of Spanish school here in Cusco, and living with Peruvian families, and the family I am living with has two adorable little kids. Cusco really is an extremely beautiful city, we are so high up, it looks like some of the mountains are actually touching the clouds. So amazing, so lucky.  However, the absolute BEST part about all of this is that while we are living with the families, I get my own room. Just me! No one else - not even J! Its the first time I have slept alone in a room in over four months. And, let me tell you, its like riding a bike. You don't forget how. I did not realize how much I enjoy spending time alone. I am certain I would not want to be alone for six months, but it is a nice break every once in awhile.

Last night while I was getting ready to go meet J, I was listening to my iPod, dancing around my room (you can't do that when you share a room with 14 other people). I was overcome with the strongest desire to BURST out singing, which I couldn't do, because the family was all snuggled up together, watching a movie on the other side of my door. I then realized that I haven't been able to really sing since I left Canada. Man. I miss that.

So, in honour of that desire, I decided to make a list of simple things that I so dearly miss. Ahem, so as to not offend anyone, I have not included any humanoids on the list. Here goes nothing.

1. My computer. If only because it has all my photos and my music and is completely accessible whenever I want. Plus, its a LOT easier to maneuver than my iPod.

2. Joe Fresh. Just because its so cheap and awesome. I will likely need to utilize that when I return home in June not able to fit into any of my summer clothes for work.

3. YOGA CLASSES!!!! At a real studio! With a real, live teacher! And other students! I haven't been practicing nearly as often as I would like to (because of space/people/laziness issues), but I am so extremely excited to return to practice. It makes me a very, very happy girl.

4. Kitchen, with real ingredients, and dishes and utensils. And no strangers getting in the way (because clearly I never do that). I miss my own cooking sometimes, and actually cooking. We had done a lot of cooking earlier, but not so much as of late.

5. Stanley. Well, not really Stanley, particularly because I am not a real fan of driving, but I do love driving for a long time for work with the window open and the music blasting (singing my little heart out!).

6. Being able to get ready in my underwear. Another thing you just can´t do in a dorm room. Actually, I suppose you can, but I´m not going to. I think I´ll wait for my own room to do that.

7. Feeling strong and healthy. These days I am only feeling soft and happy. Really happy, so I suppose I can handle feeling soft for six months of my life.

Not a very long list (again, not including all you humanoids...), which I suppose is a good thing, because really, if I wanted to complain, who would want to hear it? Certainly not the people in cold Canada (or perhaps not so cold Canada these days???) with real worries like jobs and bills real life stress.

It really is a wonderful life.

Monday, May 2, 2011

The Dangers of Education

I am currently in the beautiful Peruvian city of Cusco. You know, the jump off point for a little place called Macchu Picchu. Heard of it?

While we are here we did the trek to Macchu Picchu (amazing) and are now starting our second week of Spanish school. We are both living with Peruvian families, which is really wonderful and definitely helps to make the experience more relevant. I'm not sure there is better practice than trying to understand a very excited 5 year old explain to you the joke she just told you in Spanish.

The school we are attending is very organized and interactive. On my last day last week we went on an outing to the central market with the whole class. Because we had spent a lot of time on 'imperativo' (commands...), we had to give each other ridiculous tasks, such as walk up the street with your eyes closed (a little bit dangerous, I thought...), touch your nose, or my personal fave, go ask that little boy if you can do his homework. Believe me, he would not have wanted me to!

During this exercise I was told to hop up the street on one foot, until I reached the guy in my class who was walking up the street blind, approximately 50 meters ahead of me. Because I wanted to do it fast I was frantically hopping one footed up the street, when my right ankle completely gave out. Which was only slightly embarassing. And painful. I'm a bit concerned I have aggravated an old soccer injury. However, it was not severe enough to prevent me from participating in the salsa class or dancing my face off until far too late in the night.

At least I have my priorities straight.

Toilet Talk or 'Everyone Poops'

We recently returned from a 4 day trek through the Andes to Macchu Picchu (which was AMAZING). During our trek the toilet facilities were 'rustic' at best. I've peed in tents that covered holes dug in the ground, found my own 'ecological' bathroom, and yes, even went number two outside. Right beside a pile of llama dung. I figured if it was a good enough spot for the llama, it was good enough for me.  There's a first time for everything, right?

Yep. I went there. The unspeakable. Poop talk. In regular life we all walk around, pretending no one poops. One of the things I have learned during various travels is that certain social rules, that seem to dictate how we interact as humans, are blown right out of the water. While traveling it is completely common to overhear conversations between people who, five minutes prior, were complete strangers, talking about their BMs and their various ailments (which 90% of the time involve the stomach region....).

I haven't decided what it is about traveling that does this to people, but I definitely have some theories.  Perhaps this happens because when you are with someone all the time it is impossible to continue pretending that no one poops. Combine that with the nearly inevitable 'travelers' stomach issues' and you got yourself a plethora of poop talk. (Not from me, of course, but everyone else. Right.) Traveling has a way of bringing relationships to the next level. Never 'tooted' in front of your significant other? Go on vacation together to anywhere in Latin America and I am willing to bet that this will no longer be the case. Just ask J, who's boyfriend now affectionately refers to the three of us (J, G, and I) as the 'poop squad'. How romantic. (In our defense this was following some days in Lima where we were struck with some serious stomach ailments, of varying degrees of severity.....). 

So far, our experiences with toileting have varied immensely, starting with requiring instructions on how to properly flush the toilet in Buenos Aires.

In Uruguay the bus station had my most favourite hand dryer (familiar with the XCELERATOR? You know, the hand dryer capable of making bones completely visible in even the chubbiest of hands). They had hand drying under control but they seemed to have forgotten the toilet seats, which I deem to be kinda important. And so began the development of my hover/squating skills. Apparently this is so incredibly common in bus stations across South America (and restaurants and any public toilet, really. Even the ones you have to pay to use!) I didn't realize then that this would be such a valuable skill over the next five months...

In Bolivia I learned of the importance of ALWAYS carrying TP, hand santizer and small change. Without it you better be prepared to 'drip dry', have dirty hands, and/or hold it.

When we were on an 8 hour bus in Bolivia, I'm pretty sure I figured out why the indigenous women always wear very full skirts. When our bus pulled over to the side of the road/mountain, about 10 Bolivians pile out of the bus (9 men, and a lone woman). I very quickly realize this is their equivalent of a 'rest stop'. The woman got off the bus, and squatted, about four feet from the bus, hiked up her skirt, did her business, and got back on the bus! And she didn't expose herself once in the process. I gotta get me one of those skirts.

Prior to our trek my outdoor toileting experiences were limited to outhouses, port-a-potties, and very few times in the woods. Very few. And my experiences with outhouses included base camp in grade seven during which I tried to hold it until the morning, then couldn't, went to the outhouse (but didn't want to actually sit on it...) and in the process peed on my pyjamas. Not so skilled. Needless to say, prior to leaving for the trek I was a bit worried about the toilet situation. I am pleased to report I didn't pee on my own pants (or anyone else's for that matter...) the whole time. I consider that a roaring success. During our trek we were also lucky enough to get some very good tips from one of the dudes in our group about how to most easily poop in the wilderness. It was top secret, so I can't tell you, but I will say it involved leaning against a rock.

All across this great continent I am constantly reminded (via signs) of the importance of throwing the paper in the bin and not in the toilet. I am quite certain I'll come home still looking for the bin.

These experiences have made me a better traveler and much less worried about buses without bathrooms, primarily due to my newly acquired squatting skills and constant supply of tissue. I have also confirmed (yet again) that it is much easier to be a man than a woman.

I'm not sure there is anything else Ecuador and Colombia can teach me about using the bathroom, but I'll keep you posted.