I'm in Lima! I haven't even been here for a whole day, but so far it's been quite an experience. I got into the airport around 9:15 last night and had no problem gathering my belongings, getting through immigration and customs, and finding my friend Carlos in the airport. He was kind enough to come pick me up and show me around a bit of Lima last night. As we drove from the airport to my hostel in the neighborhood called Miraflores, we passed by the beach, a few brightly lit casinos, and wove our way between more than a few cars. Carlos says traffic in Lima, which in now home to about 10 million people, is disorganized, and I can see why. People change lanes whenever they feel like it, and drivers here have a special penchant for driving between two lanes and then deciding at the last minute which one is moving faster and joining the traffic in that one. Everyone also loves to use their horns. It's definitely part of the Latin American feel that I've grown to appreciate, and that takes some getting used to.
After checking me into my hostel, Pariwana Backpackers, we walked around the area a bit and went into an Irish pub (of all places) for a pisco sour, a local cocktail that contains pisco (a Peruvian grape brandy), lime, egg whites, and bitters. It tasted mildly like a margarita, owing I think to the lime, and on a whole was pretty good. Carlos says there are better ones, so I'll have to seek them out.
Today was a day for touring around Lima. This morning, we hopped on a tourist bus that took us around Miraflores and described the importance of the various streets and parks we encountered. It was a good way to see quite a bit of the city, more than I could hope to see on foot, and definitely brought to light the contrast between the old and the new that one finds here. For example, as we drove past Huaca Pucllana, a set of ruins in the middle of the city, we were faced with tall, modern-looking apartment buildings, which our guide said were built on top of other sections of the same ruins. The ruins also house a restaurant that shares their name. A couple doors down from my hostel is a Burger King, housed in an old colonial building. This contrast or juxtaposition of old and new has always seemed funny to me, and I noticed it a lot as we explored Lima.
In the afternoon, Carlos took me to Lima center, where we walked around and passed old buildings, new ones, churches, parks, and plazas. In one of the plazas, an entire array of inflatable Coca Cola soccer balls and bottles were set up, surrounding a giant screen where they'll show the soccer (let's call it fútbol, because that's what it really is) match between Perú and Chile later today, part of the qualifying rounds for the next World Cup. I love how much the entire country supports its fútbol team, and how excited and prideful people get about these matches. You'd never see anything like this in the U.S., much less for fútbol.
We also wandered through the Museo San Francisco, where a tour took us through various parts of the monastery and cathedral dedicated to Saint Francis, the monk responsible for starting the Franciscan order. The majority of the walls were covered with beautiful yellow, blue, and white decorative tiles, which the Spaniards brought to their colonies after being influenced by the Arab presence in their own country. My favorite room may have been the library, where hundreds of books stacked themselves on cedar shelves and covered almost any subject you could think of, and in several languages. The room was complete with two short spiral staircases leading up to a second level of bookshelves, a couple gigantic choir books, and two adorned Bibles. The end of our tour found us in the catacombs beneath the church, where it's estimated that 25,000 people were buried over the years; the bones of many priests and followers alike were laid to rest there, and some of them happened to be on display as we wandered through the dark stone rooms. Especially interesting were two deep stone wells that served a dual purpose in the catacombs: they housed people's remains, naturally, but they also served as a sort of shock absorber for earthquakes and the like. The idea certainly worked, because the catacombs haven't fallen down yet, despite frequent seismic activity. Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take pictures during any of the tour, so you'll have to let your imagination help you visualize what the place might have been like.
I've got a little downtime before heading out to find a place to watch the game at 5:45, but I'm thinking we're on the late side of things in that respect. People have been congregating at the huge screen in Lima center for at least a couple hours already, and the sound of traffic outside my window is increasingly laced with different horns, those carried by trumpeting fútbol enthusiasts. This is one of the most exciting coincidences ever!
And speaking of coincidences, three of the people sharing my room last night have turned out to be Peace Corps volunteers who have been placed in a small village outside the city of Huaraz. They were on their way back from a few days spent in the Amazon participating in a rafting contest, where they lashed 8 logs together and then paddled for 3 days to the finishline. I've never heard of this before, but apparently this is the 13th year of this competition, called the Great Amazon River Raft Race, and people do take it seriously. Sign me up for 2012!
Pictures will come soon. Until then, know that I'm having a great time being out of the U.S. and send you all my love.
It's almost time...for winter?
I'm sitting in my room at home, looking at the next 7 months of my life fit into my 50 L backpack and a duffel bag of about the same size. Although they're both decently full, I'm glad to say they're not stuffed to the gills...which means I have room to accumulate the inevitable souvenir or gift here and there. It's hard to believe that tomorrow is the day I finally embark on my adventures. Over breakfast, my mom and I both agreed that it seems strange and almost surreal to say "Tomorrow, when I (you) leave..." since my departure date has eternally felt like an ambiguous day some time in the future. But I couldn't be more excited.
I'm making last minute notes from guidebooks about Perú, of places or names I want to remember to investigate. Soon, we'll head up to Denver and spend the night there as an intermediary stop between me and the airport, where I have to be early tomorrow morning. Colorado's farewell to me has been a taste of the winter I'm skipping in exchange for a South American summer; yesterday morning, we awoke to big fat wet snowflakes blanketing the ground and still falling from gray clouds above. It took most of the day for the sun to come out, but once it did, the snow melted away quickly enough. It got cold enough overnight for frost to form on the grass, and for any water in our raincatchers outside to freeze. Though I do like this weather sometimes, I'll be glad to miss the gloomy, bone chilling days I know are right around the corner. Maybe next winter I'll want to stick around? Admittedly, I would love some time on the ski slopes, but that'll have to wait. Right now, it's time to say adios, Salida!
I'm making last minute notes from guidebooks about Perú, of places or names I want to remember to investigate. Soon, we'll head up to Denver and spend the night there as an intermediary stop between me and the airport, where I have to be early tomorrow morning. Colorado's farewell to me has been a taste of the winter I'm skipping in exchange for a South American summer; yesterday morning, we awoke to big fat wet snowflakes blanketing the ground and still falling from gray clouds above. It took most of the day for the sun to come out, but once it did, the snow melted away quickly enough. It got cold enough overnight for frost to form on the grass, and for any water in our raincatchers outside to freeze. Though I do like this weather sometimes, I'll be glad to miss the gloomy, bone chilling days I know are right around the corner. Maybe next winter I'll want to stick around? Admittedly, I would love some time on the ski slopes, but that'll have to wait. Right now, it's time to say adios, Salida!
Anecdotal Entertainment
I meant to post this story before this, but I forgot. But no matter, because here I am now, paying attention to my computer instead of my cat, who is in fact putting on her best show of cuteness like standing on the keyboard and rubbing her cheek on the corner of the screen to distract me, telling you about the funny thing that happened on the way to L.A.
Background: I spent last Tuesday through Saturday in the L.A. area visiting my dad and seeing a couple college friends. I took a bus from Salida to Denver (yes, there is a bus that runs from Salida to Denver!) on Tuesday morning, met up with my dear friend Anna in Denver for a little lunch reunion, and then headed out to the airport. We ran into some traffic on the way and were saved by her roommate's mad Mapquest skills. So, we get to the airport in just enough time for me to get through security and get to the gate with 20 minutes to spare.
Here's the hitch. In my not-so-necessary rush to make sure I got to the right gate, I did in fact wait for 20 minutes at the wrong one. Operator error. I looked at the flight monitors, saw a Southwest flight to Phoenix (my intended layover spot) and went to the corresponding gate. No checking of the flight number or the departure time. Oops. BUT when I got to the gate and asked them if they'd started boarding yet for my flight, since I figured they had or would be soon, the attendant told me they were boarding Phoenix next. So, I assumed I was at the right gate and settled down to wait. WRONG.
At, let's say, 2:47, I looked at my phone and, realizing the time, started to think "Oh crap. My flight's supposed to leave at 2:50." So I walk up to the Southwest counter and show the lady my ticket, explaining how I just realized I was waiting for the wrong flight. She informs me that yes, I was waiting on the wrong one, but my flight had just pulled away from the tunnel and the next flight to Phoenix didn't leave for another 2 hours. Gah. So I ask her how she can get me to Burbank (my final destination) more quickly than that, and she says she'll reroute me through Oakland, no problem, and I'll only be about half an hour later than expected. Cool, that works. Thanks Southwest. So I park myself in a chair again and wait for the flight (but not after quadruple-checking the flight numbers at my new gate).
Because of the last minute change, I was one of the last people to board the flight and with Southwest's whole free-for-all seating deal, I figured the only seats left would be middle seats, so why not sit in the front row where there's at least some more leg room (not like I really need it) and I don't have to wait as long to get off the plane. So I sit down on the right side of the plane between a man and a woman, both in their sixties, who had apparently stayed on the plane from wherever they had come from and were headed to Oakland. The man, on my left, immediately remarks as I take my seat that he oughta buy me a drink for sitting there, because the guy who had just vacated my seat upon landing in Denver apparently weighed 400 pounds and took up almost the whole row. OK, maybe an exaggeration on his part, but I understand the sentiment. I laughed and we made small talk for a couple minutes, enough time for me to determine that he was indeed a very friendly person. As we taxied out to the runway, we turned to our respective newpapers and books and I figured that was that, because I don't normally talk to people on planes. Wrong again.
When the flight attendant comes around asking for drink orders, he (let's call him MM for Mystery Man) turns to me and asks what I would like to drink. I was taken aback and didn't know what to say, so I asked him what he was having. Red wine. "I like your style," I said, "so I'll have one too." I didn't actually expect him to go through with it, but MM swipes his card and then turns to me and starts talking. Which he did for most of the flight, except for the occasional comment I made to one of his statements. So, what did we talk about? Really, what didn't we talk about?
He started out by asking why I was heading to California, so I told him I was going to visit family. MM is smart, so he figures out that my parents are divorced and I'm leaving one of them to visit the other. This starts him off on a whole tangent about family. In the process, I learned that he works for a local utility company and has a 25-year-old daughter, a son who's 22, and a wife that he loves to the end of the world. Good. No longer any feelings of who-is-this-(creepy?)-guy. Once MM gets started on the topic of his wife, well, he might as well tell me about how they met and how he hitchhiked through 3 states on one weekend, from his college to hers, just to say hello. By now I'm thoroughly amused by his storytelling and his apparent passion for things he loves.
He pauses from his story to ask me what I'm doing with myself, now that I'm out of college. I tell him a bit about my plans for South America, and once I mention Buenos Aires, he tells me about how he was recently there. "What for?" I ask him. Turns out he was there with his daughter and her boyfriend (who I think went through the wringer, being tested in every way the protective MM), but during that time he started to set up contacts for an organization that he's working on. Of course I have to ask him about this organization. Which is when he humbly explains to me how he has taken it upon himself to help cities in developing countries improve their water quality so they can decrease their death rates.
That one came out of nowhere. So now I'm totally hooked and ask incessant questions about it. MM's basic idea is to establish partnerships between successful utilities in the U.S. and utilities in developing cities that need better (safer) drinking water. So, let's say he picks Vegas and Guadalajara (2 cities he used as examples). The employees of the water treatment body in Guadalajara are sent to Vegas for at least a month, where they shadow someone in Vegas's water treatment company that does the same job that they do back home. After the month is up, they go back home and implement changes in their own water treatment system based on what they observed in Vegas. The idea is that this puts the power of change in the people's own hands, instead of trying to impose solutions without including people in the process of arriving at them. The workers in Guadalajara see the improvements in their water quality, realize how beneficial their partnership was, and then start to pursue more training trips, but this time without the middleman to organize it.
The whole thing strikes me as an awesome idea, so I ask him if the organization has a name, or if he's looking to take on more people to help out. MM says it's just getting off the ground, really, and he's not interested in making a website or anything of the like. Shucks. So it's going to be impossible to find out more about this.
So this is probably where you all say, what's his name? Thing is, I have no idea. We didn't formally introduce ourselves when we first started conversing, and it seems kind of frivolous to ask halfway through our talk. Until he started telling me about his work. And of course, timing doesn't like to lend me a hand: our conversation continues until we're at the gate in Oakland, at which point he turns to me, says, "Nice talking to you," and leaves. I tried to write down as much info as I could remember, but to no avail. I just tried to look him up and can't find any clue as to who he is...hence the moniker MM.
So there it is, my whole long-winded tale. Things like this don't normally happen to me, so of course I'm psyched to have a story to tell. It felt pretty serendipitous, even if it didn't end in an incredible contact with some great organization. Who knows, maybe he'll show up on the news next year with this project and I can track him down that way. Fingers crossed!
Background: I spent last Tuesday through Saturday in the L.A. area visiting my dad and seeing a couple college friends. I took a bus from Salida to Denver (yes, there is a bus that runs from Salida to Denver!) on Tuesday morning, met up with my dear friend Anna in Denver for a little lunch reunion, and then headed out to the airport. We ran into some traffic on the way and were saved by her roommate's mad Mapquest skills. So, we get to the airport in just enough time for me to get through security and get to the gate with 20 minutes to spare.
Here's the hitch. In my not-so-necessary rush to make sure I got to the right gate, I did in fact wait for 20 minutes at the wrong one. Operator error. I looked at the flight monitors, saw a Southwest flight to Phoenix (my intended layover spot) and went to the corresponding gate. No checking of the flight number or the departure time. Oops. BUT when I got to the gate and asked them if they'd started boarding yet for my flight, since I figured they had or would be soon, the attendant told me they were boarding Phoenix next. So, I assumed I was at the right gate and settled down to wait. WRONG.
At, let's say, 2:47, I looked at my phone and, realizing the time, started to think "Oh crap. My flight's supposed to leave at 2:50." So I walk up to the Southwest counter and show the lady my ticket, explaining how I just realized I was waiting for the wrong flight. She informs me that yes, I was waiting on the wrong one, but my flight had just pulled away from the tunnel and the next flight to Phoenix didn't leave for another 2 hours. Gah. So I ask her how she can get me to Burbank (my final destination) more quickly than that, and she says she'll reroute me through Oakland, no problem, and I'll only be about half an hour later than expected. Cool, that works. Thanks Southwest. So I park myself in a chair again and wait for the flight (but not after quadruple-checking the flight numbers at my new gate).
Because of the last minute change, I was one of the last people to board the flight and with Southwest's whole free-for-all seating deal, I figured the only seats left would be middle seats, so why not sit in the front row where there's at least some more leg room (not like I really need it) and I don't have to wait as long to get off the plane. So I sit down on the right side of the plane between a man and a woman, both in their sixties, who had apparently stayed on the plane from wherever they had come from and were headed to Oakland. The man, on my left, immediately remarks as I take my seat that he oughta buy me a drink for sitting there, because the guy who had just vacated my seat upon landing in Denver apparently weighed 400 pounds and took up almost the whole row. OK, maybe an exaggeration on his part, but I understand the sentiment. I laughed and we made small talk for a couple minutes, enough time for me to determine that he was indeed a very friendly person. As we taxied out to the runway, we turned to our respective newpapers and books and I figured that was that, because I don't normally talk to people on planes. Wrong again.
When the flight attendant comes around asking for drink orders, he (let's call him MM for Mystery Man) turns to me and asks what I would like to drink. I was taken aback and didn't know what to say, so I asked him what he was having. Red wine. "I like your style," I said, "so I'll have one too." I didn't actually expect him to go through with it, but MM swipes his card and then turns to me and starts talking. Which he did for most of the flight, except for the occasional comment I made to one of his statements. So, what did we talk about? Really, what didn't we talk about?
He started out by asking why I was heading to California, so I told him I was going to visit family. MM is smart, so he figures out that my parents are divorced and I'm leaving one of them to visit the other. This starts him off on a whole tangent about family. In the process, I learned that he works for a local utility company and has a 25-year-old daughter, a son who's 22, and a wife that he loves to the end of the world. Good. No longer any feelings of who-is-this-(creepy?)-guy. Once MM gets started on the topic of his wife, well, he might as well tell me about how they met and how he hitchhiked through 3 states on one weekend, from his college to hers, just to say hello. By now I'm thoroughly amused by his storytelling and his apparent passion for things he loves.
He pauses from his story to ask me what I'm doing with myself, now that I'm out of college. I tell him a bit about my plans for South America, and once I mention Buenos Aires, he tells me about how he was recently there. "What for?" I ask him. Turns out he was there with his daughter and her boyfriend (who I think went through the wringer, being tested in every way the protective MM), but during that time he started to set up contacts for an organization that he's working on. Of course I have to ask him about this organization. Which is when he humbly explains to me how he has taken it upon himself to help cities in developing countries improve their water quality so they can decrease their death rates.
That one came out of nowhere. So now I'm totally hooked and ask incessant questions about it. MM's basic idea is to establish partnerships between successful utilities in the U.S. and utilities in developing cities that need better (safer) drinking water. So, let's say he picks Vegas and Guadalajara (2 cities he used as examples). The employees of the water treatment body in Guadalajara are sent to Vegas for at least a month, where they shadow someone in Vegas's water treatment company that does the same job that they do back home. After the month is up, they go back home and implement changes in their own water treatment system based on what they observed in Vegas. The idea is that this puts the power of change in the people's own hands, instead of trying to impose solutions without including people in the process of arriving at them. The workers in Guadalajara see the improvements in their water quality, realize how beneficial their partnership was, and then start to pursue more training trips, but this time without the middleman to organize it.
The whole thing strikes me as an awesome idea, so I ask him if the organization has a name, or if he's looking to take on more people to help out. MM says it's just getting off the ground, really, and he's not interested in making a website or anything of the like. Shucks. So it's going to be impossible to find out more about this.
So this is probably where you all say, what's his name? Thing is, I have no idea. We didn't formally introduce ourselves when we first started conversing, and it seems kind of frivolous to ask halfway through our talk. Until he started telling me about his work. And of course, timing doesn't like to lend me a hand: our conversation continues until we're at the gate in Oakland, at which point he turns to me, says, "Nice talking to you," and leaves. I tried to write down as much info as I could remember, but to no avail. I just tried to look him up and can't find any clue as to who he is...hence the moniker MM.
So there it is, my whole long-winded tale. Things like this don't normally happen to me, so of course I'm psyched to have a story to tell. It felt pretty serendipitous, even if it didn't end in an incredible contact with some great organization. Who knows, maybe he'll show up on the news next year with this project and I can track him down that way. Fingers crossed!
T minus how many days?
Six. Yup. Six five four three two none. Then I fly far away and galavant around. I still can't believe that this is what I get to do with myself now, but I could get used to it. It's a bit disarming, though. I feel like I have so much time left because I'm counting days (as opposed to hours, like I'm used to on the block plan), but really I think it's gonna whiz by and before I know it, Perú! I'm trying to divide my time between researching travel options, getting in the last visits with friends here, and making piles of clothes and other things to stuff into my backpack. Funny how when I make lists of things to take in my head, it doesn't seem like much...but then I pile it up in front of me and say, "Why did I think I needed this much stuff again?" Not like it's really that much, considering I'll be gone for 7 months, but I'm still working on cutting it all down. Good thing I don't have to pack for winter...
On the bright side, I'm pretty sure I know where in Perú I want to devote my energy to this time around. Problem is, the three places are kinda sorta in opposite directions. I'll spend a few days in and around Lima, which I'm sure will be enough city time for me. Then, the dilemma...head north or south? Northward lies Huaraz and the Huascarán National Park, in the heart of the Cordillera Blanca (loosely, White Spine), which houses numerous enormous peaks...I think the Moon guidebook on Perú said that it's the highest mountain range outside of the Himalaya. Can you see the appeal? (As a side note, I'm currently on my third book about expeditions to climb Everest, so my brain is in a certain groove at the moment.) The region is touted for having incredible day hikes, as well as multi-day trekking options, and quality rock climbing. Sounds great.
Southward, though, lie Cusco and Puno, central hubs for exploring Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca, respectively. Neither place really requires a description, and I'm sure they both offer a lot of opportunities to explore amazing things. Problem is, I'm not quite sure how much time I'll have to dedicate to them, and I want to err on the side of spending too much time in a place as opposed to not enough. Good thing is, at this point my plans are pretty loose, or maybe even nonexistent, so I can play it by ear. Woo!
It's about time for me to get off the computer and get to work, but I can't resist this shameless plug: one of my dear friends from CC, Louisa, is spending a year in Germany as an au pair, and she's keeping a blog about her (hilarious) experiences. Single posts make me laugh out loud multiple times, and besides, it's Louisa's blog! So I recommend that you all check it out and spread the word: the au pair report.
Signing off for now.
Love, Me.
On the bright side, I'm pretty sure I know where in Perú I want to devote my energy to this time around. Problem is, the three places are kinda sorta in opposite directions. I'll spend a few days in and around Lima, which I'm sure will be enough city time for me. Then, the dilemma...head north or south? Northward lies Huaraz and the Huascarán National Park, in the heart of the Cordillera Blanca (loosely, White Spine), which houses numerous enormous peaks...I think the Moon guidebook on Perú said that it's the highest mountain range outside of the Himalaya. Can you see the appeal? (As a side note, I'm currently on my third book about expeditions to climb Everest, so my brain is in a certain groove at the moment.) The region is touted for having incredible day hikes, as well as multi-day trekking options, and quality rock climbing. Sounds great.
Southward, though, lie Cusco and Puno, central hubs for exploring Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca, respectively. Neither place really requires a description, and I'm sure they both offer a lot of opportunities to explore amazing things. Problem is, I'm not quite sure how much time I'll have to dedicate to them, and I want to err on the side of spending too much time in a place as opposed to not enough. Good thing is, at this point my plans are pretty loose, or maybe even nonexistent, so I can play it by ear. Woo!
It's about time for me to get off the computer and get to work, but I can't resist this shameless plug: one of my dear friends from CC, Louisa, is spending a year in Germany as an au pair, and she's keeping a blog about her (hilarious) experiences. Single posts make me laugh out loud multiple times, and besides, it's Louisa's blog! So I recommend that you all check it out and spread the word: the au pair report.
Signing off for now.
Love, Me.
Retaking the pen...I mean, keyboard.
It's a beautiful day in Salida. I'm sitting in Salida Café (where I've been for most of the day) researching places to live in Buenos Aires, where I'll be for November and December. I'm about three weeks away from embarking on another adventure, this time to Perú, Argentina, and Chile. I don't have concrete plans for most of this yet, but I'm okay with that. Flexibility is something I'm glad to have come by, though it may sometimes drive my mom a little crazy. Despite my tendency to plan every hour of my day, I'm attempting to take a more easy-peasy approach to my upcoming travels, relishing in my newfound ability to do whatever I'm moved to do. As of this moment, this is what I know: Perú is waiting to welcome me for 3 whole weeks, where I'll travel around, spending a good several days in each place I go, really getting to know them all. I did the whole one-city-a-day thing last summer in Europe, and I've definitely decided that isn't my style. Yes, I'll miss seeing some things because I didn't allow the time to go through a whole laundry list of tourist spots, but on the other hand, I'll be able to say that I got well acquainted with the places I did visit.
After Perú comes Argentina, Buenos Aires more specifically. I'll get there a couple days before my birthday and about a week before I start my CELTA (English teaching certificate) class. I'm not sure that I'm really looking forward to hours and hours of school again (think the block plan, but on mild steroids), but it will be good for me to meet some new people and put myself through a training course that should prove to be useful for my future plans, whatever they turn out to be. Though I'm not much of a city person, a part of me is looking forward to a month in a metropolis with 13 million other people. It will be a sharp contrast to my time in Chile, which begins just after we ring in the new year.
From the beginning of January until the end of April, I'll be interning with Conservacion Patagonica as a host at the small lodge in the future Patagonia National Park. Park headquarters are right in the middle of the Patagonian wilderness, and I can't even begin to convey how much I'm looking forward to being in such an isolated and positively beautiful spot. In addition to being the lodge's host/bartender/assistant cook (hopefully), I'm hoping to help out with trail building, teaching English, giving tours...basically, whatever I can get my hands into. I absolutely love what CP is trying to do, and so I want to learn about and be involved in as much of it as I can. This is really the humongous cherry on top of my South American cake.
This will be the longest consecutive amount of time that I've spent away from home and traveling around, but I'm not nervous...just super excited. I've gotten such support and encouragement from the people who know what I'm planning to do for the next 7 months, and that just feeds the fire. I'm hoping to keep this blog relatively up to date, as much for my sake as for everyone else's.
But enough computer time for now. Time to go get outside and enjoy the beautiful Colorado day.
After Perú comes Argentina, Buenos Aires more specifically. I'll get there a couple days before my birthday and about a week before I start my CELTA (English teaching certificate) class. I'm not sure that I'm really looking forward to hours and hours of school again (think the block plan, but on mild steroids), but it will be good for me to meet some new people and put myself through a training course that should prove to be useful for my future plans, whatever they turn out to be. Though I'm not much of a city person, a part of me is looking forward to a month in a metropolis with 13 million other people. It will be a sharp contrast to my time in Chile, which begins just after we ring in the new year.
From the beginning of January until the end of April, I'll be interning with Conservacion Patagonica as a host at the small lodge in the future Patagonia National Park. Park headquarters are right in the middle of the Patagonian wilderness, and I can't even begin to convey how much I'm looking forward to being in such an isolated and positively beautiful spot. In addition to being the lodge's host/bartender/assistant cook (hopefully), I'm hoping to help out with trail building, teaching English, giving tours...basically, whatever I can get my hands into. I absolutely love what CP is trying to do, and so I want to learn about and be involved in as much of it as I can. This is really the humongous cherry on top of my South American cake.
This will be the longest consecutive amount of time that I've spent away from home and traveling around, but I'm not nervous...just super excited. I've gotten such support and encouragement from the people who know what I'm planning to do for the next 7 months, and that just feeds the fire. I'm hoping to keep this blog relatively up to date, as much for my sake as for everyone else's.
But enough computer time for now. Time to go get outside and enjoy the beautiful Colorado day.
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