Jul 1
“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this.”
― Henry David Thoreau
I spent two months traveling alone in India. This fact is not groundbreaking. No one is writing a book about me. I am not the first to have done this, and nor will I be the last.
But lately, I have been thinking of it a lot due to all the news coming out of India of sexual harassment (here is a good synopsis of some of the reports). But, like a lot of women, my experience in India was overwhelmingly positive.
In celebration of Deepawali
this seems to be something i should be keeping in the forefront of my brain…..
May 13
May 10
My goal, this year, was to get by on $30/day (outside of my flights and insurance). I did really well for the first 5 or 6 months, and then things went downhill, or uphill…. or…. whatever direction — all I know is I spent more money!
Mar 12
I am used to being stared at. Being a lone female traveling in Asia solicits stares like you wouldn’t believe. There is no way for me to not stand out. I look different. Or when you are negotiating a busy street in Kathmandu with your friend and you are both carrying big backpacks. You get stared at. Or when you are the only white person, not to mention woman, on a bus in a rural area in India. You get stared at.
I am pretty used to it at this point.
At first it bothered me. Made me feel self-conscious and very aware of my actions. But then I started to smile when they stared. Or I said hello (or whatever the culturally appropriate greeting was). But mostly I started to smile at the stare-ers. And usually, it caught them off guard. But, for the most part, I got a smile back. Sometimes that smile started a conversation, sometimes it got me offers for food, got me a cup of chai, sometimes it got me invites to join their family. But most frequently, I got a smile back.
South America is different. Here, I get stared at, though I don’t think I look all that different (especially when I get asked if I am Argentine or Spanish). Here, I get stared at, though I dress fairly conservatively (especially compared to the teenage girls). Here, I get stared at, and I don’t get a smile in return.
I have been surprised. I do not find the people here (so far in Bolivia and Argentina) to be all that warm and friendly. They do not return smiles, instead, quickly averting their eyes (‘what, me? No, I wasn’t looking at you. no, not me.’). Of course there are exceptions to the rule, but for the most part, my smiles fall on cold faces.
And it is hard. It is hard to not take it personally. It is hard to still feel open. It is hard to feel compassionate and warmth towards the people here. It is hard to keep smiling.
One of my goals on this journey was to open myself up to the world – to not let fear stop me from new experiences and new people. To build bridges and not walls, something I sometimes struggle with. I have been forced to build bridges along the way – to trust strangers and new friends. To make allies where I can and to smile at strangers. To laugh at myself and believe in the inherent goodness of others.
South America is testing me. It is hard to remain open, to want to build bridges, to keep my guard down (and not build walls) and not cocoon myself. The looks I get sometimes, the unfriendly, cold stares — sometimes I feel myself retreating back in — and I want to fight it, but at the same time, I want to protect myself. Sometimes all I want is to go back to where I look different from everyone else – because at least there I got smiles.
and that is not to say that there were not cold looks in asia and there are people here who smile….
So, perhaps this is my test – to learn to stay open to the world, even if they are not open to me…. to remember that it is about me and how I present myself to the world – not about how others react to me.
Jan 24
… and motorcycles, buses, rickshaws.
Over the past 4.5 months, i have taken a wide variety of public transportation options. From auto-ricksaws to cycle-rickshaws to motorcycles. Trains are hands-down my favorite. There is nothing like watching the India countryside speed by while sipping a hot cup of chai. But, the buses have been the most varied.
From the first buses that Katherine and I took in Nepal — the microbuses that were hot and crowded. Then we found the public buses that were also hot and crowded, but these had a whole of people on the roofs. My first bus in India tooked like it was on its last wheel and people had to get out each time the bus stalled to push it to pop the clutch. And I could see the ground through the 4-speed gear shaft. And did I mention how comfortable the seats were? Ha. And that was the ‘express’ bus that I got scammed for.
But buses in argentina are a whole new world. I unfortunately do not have any pictures, but let me describe them to you. First off, they are double deckers. Secondly, there are a gazillion companies and various options for travel. Since Beth and I were traveling overnight, we took the ‘cama’ – which is not the most delux, but not the worst, either.
In cama, there are just 3 seats across (two, then aisle, then one). So, the seats are bigger, wider, plush. comfortable. they play movies (mostly american films with spanish subtitles). there is free coffee that you can drink all day. there is a bathroom. they serve you food. I got wine the other night. yeah, this ain’t no greyhound.
Though the buses are expensive, everyone takes them – there is a good mix of Argentines and tourists on the buses. The buses travel all over the country, though it takes awhile. For instance, we traveled from Southern Patagonia up to Mendoza and over the course of 3 days (left at 4 in the afternoon and got to Mendoza around 7:30 two days later) we were on a bus or in a bus station for close to 50 hours! Fairly insane.
Argentina is big, there are a lot of sheep and lots and lots of prickly plants.
A quick note about food….
I cane from the land of amazing food (that land would be india and thailand and vietnam) — so the food here had high expectations to live up to. I am so so so sorry to say that it failed miserably. Argentines eat an amazing amount of bread and meat. With not a whole lot of flavor. The other day, on the bus, we had a total of 5 different bread products. with meat. it definitely leaves a bit to be desired….
next post…. our so very exciting plans for the nest few days! 🙂
Jan 9
I dream of mountains the way some people dream of new shoes. I covet them. I know their names, the ranges that span countries. I watch movies about them. Read of climbers. I want to know them intimately. Walk in their valleys, cross high passes, summit mountain tops.
For as long as I can remember, the himalayas and the Andes, and more specifically, patagonia, have been etched into my dreams. whispering: I want, I want, I want….
My core, my soul, ached to see these mountains. I remember moments while trekking in Nepal almost giggling, giddy because I was finally there. I was doing it. I was fulfilling the dream.
And so, here I am, in southern Patagonia about to head out for a trek. And then some climbing and then more treks. In the Andes. Where I have dreamed of being.
And I’ve discovered that realizing the dream does not necessarily mean that I have fulfilled the dream. The Himalayas beckon. They call out to me still – in some ways louder than before. I imagine it will be the same here. I can’t wait to find out!
Jan 8
Hearing the announcement, I felt a pit of anxiety form in my stomach. Why are they calling my name 45 minutes before my flight? My seat was confirmed, so it wasn’t that. I wasn’t carrying illegal contraband (that I knew of). Oh, please don’t have me miss this flight, I thought as I rushed to the ticket counter.
Turns out they just wanted to know if I had read the fine print. Which I had – 3 hours ago and $400 later.
Turns out you cannot fly into Argentina without proof that you are leaving. seems like a big detail that I shouldn’t have missed. Well, I hadn’t totally. I had read about it 6 months ago. And at that time I figured no problem, I will surely have my return ticket by that time. But, now it was four hours before my flight, I am sitting in a dumpy hostel room in Saigon that I got for $5 for 3 hours to shower and repack and, thanks to government controls, I cannot access a quarter of the websites I am trying to research.
Panic has begun to set in.
You see, my plans are up in the air. I don’t know when I am returning to the states. I don’t know when I am leaving argentina. All I really know is that I have a flight to El Calafate less than 24 hours after I arrive in Buenos Aires. That i would really prefer not to miss. And that Qatar Airways is not going to let me leave Vietnam without proof that i am leaving Argentina.
Finally the interweb, my credit card and government controls have all conspired to allow me to purchase a, hopefully fully refundable (how many times can one read the airline fine print and still be confused?), airline ticket to Chile. Which I hope to not use.
Sure enough, that was the reason I heard my name over the intercom. They let me board the flight. And here I am, 30+ hours of flying time later, listening told men gossip in the coffee shop where I am fighting jet-lag in Buenos Aires.
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