South of the Border, West of the Sun

At The Races

2009-11-12T06:03:00.006-05:00

It was a nice, slow weekend here in Seoul. A welcome change of pace. I spent a lot of time talking to loved ones, climbed a new trail on the local mountain, caught a group of Korean university students performing Portuguese music, and, on a whim, went to the city's horse racing track. It's the horse track that proved most photogenic, though, and this entry is mostly a photo dump for exactly that. I mean, it was a lot of fun!

It was my idea, I'll admit, but it was Seth who truly got excited about it, see:

I mean come one, there was only one horse in the paddock!

But, nestled next to Gwanaksan and the Han River, I have to admit that even on a drizzly day the grounds were pretty nice and the view impressive.

Eventually we found an English-language betting book, Seth taught me how to bet, and we made our wagers. There is a bit of a learning curve, apparently, as Seth's first bet (and only winner of the day) didn't count. I won a few place bets myself but still came in behind for the day. Nevertheless, Seth's enthusiasm was infectious!

Plus the horses were really pretty!

(Although favored to win, this guy did not - he did, however, place, netting me a cool 100 won [nine cents]. I'm much, much too conservative to be a real gambler!)

Matt-ilda.

2009-11-09T04:22:00.003-05:00

This just slid across my proverbial desk and its too good not to share. Also from the Halloween scavenger hunt, here's Matt showing off some cars at Yongan Station. I think he's got a real bright (blue) future, don't you?

Seoul Scavenger Hunt 2009

2009-11-02T09:27:00.000-05:00

It's amazing what you can do with a little free time and enthusiasm. Take the above image - the best I can do with my limited graphic design abilities - or the event itself as an example.

See, it was my friend Matt's idea but my execution.

By the way, this is Matt (on Halloween, at least):

Have a beer on a bus.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The idea was simple.
1) compile a list of things you can only see or do in Korea;
2) find or complete them;
3) take pictures (for proof - and later botched political campaigns).

Here are some sample items:
- Convince a stranger to do the "Sorry Sorry" dance with you.
- Fish market costume contest.
- Walk into a hagwon* and insist on signing up for English lessons.
- Give away "free hugs"

* Private English Academy

The event itself was hysterical. Althought only about fifteen people turned out because of the rain and cold (damned weather!), we all still managed to have a blast.

Here are some of the highlights:

Locals dressed up for Halloween

Finish in a costume

Meet people from different countries: this Australian showed us his umbrella/didgeridoo

Relax on a couch left in the street.

Team member in a Korean traditional dress. Bonus: a male team member.

Back in the swing of things: Seoraksan in Autumn

2009-10-27T14:37:00.000-04:00

Korea's tourism slogans are often laughably bad. I'd like, in some small way, to mitigate that statement – to make it sound more diplomatic or at least less catty – but it's true. Take their latest masterpiece:

Yep, there are not 365, not 730, but 1095 days in a Korean tourism year. Naturally, as many of us are here as English teachers, it's little wonder that little gems like this take the form of memes that repeat themselves over and over again in the expat circles. Other famous examples?

By far my favorite (to mock), though, has always been this one:

Four Distinct Seasons

BUT, BUT, BUT how wrong I've been. No, really. Since my trip to Seoraksan* last weekend I've seen the light. It might actually take three years to properly see this sparkling country and its four distinct seasons. Seriously.

Now, I have no intention of testing my hypothesis – I'm out in less than two months – but the autumn colors on the slopes of Seoraksan have me questioning just about everything these days. It was simply phenomenal.

Now, as any reader of this blog knows, I've done my fair share of hiking in Korea.* All of it – and I mean all of it – pales in comparison to this hike.

Let me explain the set-up. It was a three day, 14-person trip I led in conjunction with a hiking group I'm a member of. I hadn't even intended to go in the first place but circumstances resulted in an opportunity to go for free – in exchange for leading the team – and so, eager for the experience as well as the free vacation, I went along.

Boy, am I glad I did.

We left Friday night, shortly before midnight, and (groggily) arrived at the trailhead around 7am Saturday. (Korea's small – we actually arrived at 4am but the bus idled while we slept.) From there it was up and down in a single day. Up Korea's second-tallest mountain (1709m) and then down the other side. It was easier said than done but nevertheless not too bad. Unfortunately the way to the top was four hours up, wholly on an incline and mostly covered by clouds. By the time we reached the first shelter, just past the summit, at noon, visibility was a thing of the past.

[Hiking group huddling for warmth.]

[Naturally Mohy was too manly to feel cold. That makes one of us.]

On the way down, though, the clouds parted and slope eased up. It was spectacular. Clear skies in some places all the way to the East Sea with nothing but craggy peaks and brilliant treetops in the foreground.

[Look, Mom, I'm a tree!]

The downslope also featured gorgeous waterfalls and streams – so inviting but so cold! - that were so captivating we were racing the sunset to finish before dark. In that one regard we failed, slightly, but happily so.

Having completed the hike we headed to our hotel situated mere meters from the East Sea. That night I made the team dinner – salsa con queso and Italian sausages – in our rooms and my friend Kate made us s'mores along the beach.

It was a late night for a long day but a truly amazing one at that.

BUT BUT BUT the next morning was almost better. Waking up, we went to the beach. The sky was clear, the sands were white, and the water blue. It was perfect. So, too, were the pictures.

[Apparently the East Sea is the place for pictures for me.]

Oh, and as if to complete my Korea photo trifecta, there a temple. A beautiful, exceptional temple. Both exceptionally beautiful and also just plain exceptional: where most temples in Korea are in the mountains, this one - Naksansa - was ib a beachside cliff. Thus a good temple made better by its setting. Check it:

So, yep, all in all it was a great weekend. One of the best yet in Korea. Here's to two more months in Korea!

* I stopped counting ages ago, but I'd easily topped 50 by August. I mean, what else can the functionally illiterate do with their time?

Heading South

2009-07-12T03:06:00.001-04:00

What a strange and wonderful world it is. Last weekend was white water rafting and river trekking; this weekend was dragon boat racing and temple visits.
So get this: a small industrial city in the south of South Korea, Ulsan, was selected as the site of the third annual International Dragon Boat Championships. I, like you, had no idea such a thing even existed but as it was scheduled for the same time as one of the biggest events of the Korean summer – the Boryeong Mud Festival – I was soon to become very well informed. See, even though the event was being held in Korea the competition from Boryeong kept Korean participation drastically low. So low, in fact, that they paid a group of Koreans and expats – myself included! – to head down there and compete. We weren’t representing Korea or anything (heck, we were barely representing ourselves) but it was damned fun. Best of all, this group of untried amateurs actually finished ahead of a couple of teams, taking fourth in a six boat race.

Hip-hip-hurrah!

...Totally fake...

...totally not!

Now, you know me; I had already committed my weekend to the races and so when they finished up around noon on Saturday, I didn't call it quits. No, instead of heading back to the city I got in touch with a local couchsurfer - Dave Swede, an absolutely amazing host - who put up with me, three friends, plenty of bad puns, and worse beer.
A good time was had by all but the real highlight was the next day. En route north to Seoul we decided to stop off in the ancient city of Gyeongju - home of Bulguk Temple, one of the three UNESCO World Heritage Sites in Korea. The temple was simply beautiful and the town itself like a living museum. The whole place was almost deserted - oh the joys of being a tourist in Korea!

A wonderful escape from the city and, all in all, I'd say it was a hell of a weekend.^^

Mexican Night, or Me and My Big Mouth

2009-07-08T02:56:00.001-04:00

When my friend William mentioned how he hadn’t eaten good Mexican food in ages I should have just let it go. I should not, I repeat, not, have reminded him that I used to live in Mexico and was not too bad at a handful of dishes. More importantly, I should not have encouraged him to put together a Mexican-themed dinner party. But, but, but barring all that even I couldn’t be foolish enough to suggest my place as the venue.

… I but I am and I did – and I don’t regret it for a second.

Last night about fifteen my best friends in Seoul travelled from far and wide – on a weeknight, no less – to break break [tortillas?] with me and although things were not exactly flawless a good time was had by all.

I made hummus and fajitas, Rob quesadillas, Rozalia eggplant dip, Sue pico de gallo, Zarate guacamole, Mike salad, and William brought just about everything else. Everyone, of course, helped drink the tequila. ^^

Check out Connie's awesome surprise cameo - I love it!

Let’s Get Wet!

2009-07-06T02:42:00.000-04:00

It’s hot. Very, very, very hot. Not Monterrey hot, but it’s close. Thus far it hasn’t stopped my hiking – I mean, who are we kidding? – but it found me searching for ways to indulge my favorite pasttime and keep cool at the same time.
Enter, stage left, water trekking – hiking along side and, hopefully at times, in a river.
I mean, you really would have thought that, as a Floridian, this would have occurred to be before, but better late than never.
Regardless, it was an idyllic way to celebrate The 4th of July and far superior to the white water rafting we tried out the day before. [I guess it just hasn’t rained quite enough yet to make rafting worthwhile]. I mean, both were fun river trekking wins by a landslide.
Check it:

Birthdays and Bungee Jumping

2009-06-29T23:31:00.002-04:00

Well-rested from my Namhansanseong excursion, this weekend I prepared myself for an adventure. The occasion? My friend Rob’s birthday. The plan was as follows:

Friday Night: Celebratory Dinner followed by rooftop party in Itaewon

The result: Mission Accomplished, with some relocations… First on a rooftop in Itaewon, then in a park in Noksapyeong, and finally at Rob’s apartment in Samgakji – lugging a keg the entire way.

From left to right: Cho, Nina, yours truly, Rob (the man of the hour), Susan, Mark, and Joowon.

Saturday: Bike ride to Bundang and Bungee Jumping

The result: Mission Totally Accomplished. Okay, sure, I got lost a little bit on the bike ride – my fault, though, so I’m not complaining – but the company was awesome and the bungee jumping amazing.

Saturday Night: The rest of the keg…

The result: Success!

Sunday Night: Sleep!

The result: Zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Namhansanseong: One Things Leads Into Another

2009-06-22T22:48:00.000-04:00

After the frenetic pace of the last few weeks this last weekend was a time for somber reflection and more than a little sleep. I still found the time, however, to go with a new friend – Rozalia, who I met at Muuido – on a small exploratory hike on the southeastern side of Seoul. It was, in a word, awesome. The hike was nothing to speak of – I am quickly being spoiled rotten by Korea’s amazing mountains – but the company was wonderful and the sights were second to none. Where else could I see an ancient Korean fortress walls, freshly tilled fields, and the single most beautiful temple I’ve ever seen? This country is just full of suprises.

The Southern Gate

Because every hike needs bubbles.

What? You're just jealous.

The fields, oh my god, the fields!

Rozalia with fields.

"Rozalia, how much do you love Namhansanseong?" "This much, Frankel!"

Mangwolsa (er, Mangwol Temple)

Yep. Utter perfection.

Muuido: A Day (or two) at the Beach

2009-06-14T12:44:00.001-04:00

So Sarah left last Thursday and I was sorry to see her go but she’ll doubtless be sorrier once she finds out what I got up to after she left: a real beach trip!*
See, last weekend was a trip to the East Sea – the one between Korea and Japan – and although we had fun, the weather was a bit off and the water downright cold. By contrast, this weekend was a trip to the West Sea – the one between Korea and China – and both the weather and water were sublime. Check it:

Although the West Coast tides are a bit extreme…

So it was a good, relaxing weekend. The beach was actually on an island off the coast, so it was wonderfully isolated (as compared with Seoul proper). After our first swim we came back to find an impromptu, barefoot soccer game underway on the beach. Naturally we joined in and it was, honestly, the most fun I’ve had in months.

This is what happens when you score. Fortunately I didn’t score. I did help though...^^

That night we had a bonfire on the beach, watched the stars come out, lit fireworks, and drank a lot of soju. No one woke up for the sunrise hike but we did eventually stumble out to the tallest peak on the island and were rewarded with views like this:

... and people like this:

Yep, all in all it was a great weekend. I met some great people, go to know a few others better still, and came back with a wicked tan. Muuido, mi corazon, nos vemos pronto. ^^

* Shh… don’t tell her!

Home Away From Home

2009-06-12T12:24:00.000-04:00

My, my, my, where does the time go? Actually, don't answer that; knowing only makes it worse. No, not worse. Better, definitely better. I'm hardly living a life of purpose in Seoul* but I am certainly living life. Take the weekend before last:
My old, dear, friend Sarah came to vist me here in Seoul for a long weekend and it was wonderful. As much as I like my vagabond lifestyle, you see, I do get homesick from time to time. As good of a time as I have with my new friends here, they are just that: new. It's all new and exciting but it's hardly comfortable. Think chicken soup vs. thai fusion. It's a consequence of my life, I agree, that makes chicken soup so hard to come by. So it was pleasant in and of itself to see a friend I've known for fully ten years in a city I've known for less than two months. Nice to see my old friend with my new ones.
But, but, but it was better still to explore a bit of Korea with her. We went with some friends to the east coast - we eventually met all of Sarah's key requests: 1) beach; 2) karaoke; and 3) shopping - where two days of sheer madness ensued.

Our highlights include:

Palaces, temples, and bulgogi - oh my!

Hiking in the rain!

Swimming in the [absolutely freezing] East Sea (and being photgraphed by friendly Korean men who actually asked permission and then mailed us the pictures!)

Fireworks on the beach!

Noraebang [Korean karaoke]

A Penis Park. I won't even try to explain this one.

An underground cavern of epic proportions.

I think I even managed to convince Sarah to move to Korea once her contract in Japan expires in September. If so her visit will have been doubly good; not only was it nice to see a friendly face but she is independent confirmation that I'm not crazy: this place really is amazing!

*Oh but I wish!

Korean War Memorial

2009-06-10T20:17:00.005-04:00

It's been a weird few weeks here South of the Border. Like I mentioned before, Roh's death drew the attention of many away from North Korea's latest saber rattling but as the week drew to an end I found myself more contemplative than usual. The result: a highly surreal visit to Seoul's War Memorial. I can't explain exactly what drew me there but I went as if compelled as the sun set on another week in Korea. Maybe it was the fading light combined with the immediacy of recent events, but it was still sight to behold.*

Thank God for the sweet, simple relief of flowers!

*Which is exactly why I make this post as the first of a series of three, to share with you my experience but to take the edge off them.

Surisan

2009-06-04T20:13:00.000-04:00

Another day, another hike (but you'll never hear me complaining!). As good as the weather was on Saturday for the Bulamsan hike, it was even better on Sunday for Surisan. Better still, unlike any of my other hikes to date, Surisan is practically in my backyard. [Actually, technically, this 500 meter mountain is literally in my office's backyard - how cool is that?] So I went, I climbed, I enjoyed (myself). The views were spectacular but the real highlight, at least for me, was the temple near its base. I still find them so wonderfully moving. Maybe it's their unembarrassed piety, their use of color - so distinctly not Western - or the simple fact that they alone in this increasingly globalized Korea are so distinctly not Western. Whatever it is, you can't argue with this:

Or this:

Bulamsam

2009-06-03T20:39:00.000-04:00

My friend Jessica sent me an e-mail the other day asking, among other things, "I thought you were living in the city?" Which is a perfectly valid question, given just how many of my blog posts revolve around hiking and the generally accepted notion that cities make for bad hiking hotspots. Only in this regard, like in so many others, Korea is an exception: Seoul and its suburbs are defined by the mountains, mountains which are therefore tantalizingly close and aching to be climbed. Plus they're a damned sight more picturesque than the city itself!

This has never before been so true as with Bulamsan, located on the northeastern edge of Seoul.

It was a short, easy hike on a picture perfect day that concluded with drinks and boendegi [silkworms]. Who could ask for anything more?

"I read the news today..." [Roh]

2009-06-03T07:22:00.005-04:00

Only, actually, I didn't. Well, I did, but since coming back from Jirisan I've been too busy to keep tabs on the American papers or even watch my favorite, The Daily Show. So I truthfully have no idea what the Western press has been going on about with regards to North Korea's latest temper tantrum.*

I can tell you, however, that it's just about the last thing anyone is talking about here - and not for the reason you might think. People aren't in denial, they're otherwise engaged. You see, the day I left for my epic Jirisan hike, one of Korea's most recent former President Roh Moo-hyun committed suicide. I won't get into the particulars - they're unimportant to my main point - but suffice it to say that Roh, a self-educated lawyer from a small Korean backwater, had been plagued by corruption and bribery charges since leaving office in 2008. I mention these two points by way of declaring him something of a polarizing figure: a rags-to-riches story for some, a betrayal of convictions to others.

Nonetheless almost all of Korea mourns. It's, well, weird. It's not just that I have only the most fleeting connection to a man that people are wailing in the streets over but the larger idea that people are wailing in the streets at all. I haven't been here long, but this I know is true: by and large wailing simply isn't done here, so when you see it they mean it.

Boy do they mean it. The women in my office discretely cried while watched the funeral on pocket TVs. The funeral attracted hundreds of thousands even though the current President refused to declare a day of mourning. Even my local subway station, as shown to the right, has become a local focal point of collective remembrance. The other night [last week?] I went to meet a couchsurfer there only to find well in excess of two thousand people lined up in a candlelight vigil.

Yep, the Norks could definitely have timed things better - no one has said anything about them for days.

*I can only assume that they're not making too much of a fuss because only one of my friends has even alluded to it in an e-mail and not even Mom seems frantic. ^^

N Seoul Tower

2009-06-03T07:07:00.005-04:00

I was going through my picture folders and I realized that I never posted about my visit to N Seoul Tower a few weeks ago. [Not that I'm running out of things to blog about - much to contrary - but because I want to cross it off my "done" list and move on to other things.]

I went to N Seoul Tower on what has to be the prettiest day I've yet seen in Seoul. The sun was shining, the wind was blowing, a recent rain had just washed the city clean and so - in short - it was perfect. The tower is located on top of a small mountain in central Seoul (Namsan) so although it only measures a little over 236m (777ft), it is in reality 479.7m (1574ft) above sea level. Which is not too shabby. Needless to say, the view is incredible. Plus, as the pictures below can attest, it's just about the greenest place in the area.

It was a normal touristy day except that the observation tower - not shown - just about broke my heart. Two week into my stay in Korea I was suddenly surrounded by glass windows labeled with world cities - New York, Washington, Mexico D.F., Santiago de Chile, Bogota - along with their distances. Oh, such distances. You never feel so homesick until someone throws in a statistic telling you just how far you are from your loved ones!

Still, the views were a nice enough way to combat my first bout of homesickness. The churros, too, helped. ^^

Jirisan, oh Jirisan

2009-05-27T20:52:00.010-04:00

At 1915m (6280ft) Cheonhwangbong is the highest point in mainland Korea and also my excuse for visiting Jirisan National Park last weekend. Not that I needed much convincing; when it comes to hiking "it is there" is usually a sufficient reason. ^^ Fortunately, many of the people I went with felt likewise.
The plan was this:

* Depart Seoul Friday night and travel overnight to the trailhead.
I went with a group of likeminded hikers - expats like me and locals, all of whom I happily met through Meetup.com - who are so dedicated that not a one balked at our 11:45pm departure. We had to leave so late because, as you can see, our destination was a bit of a ways from Seoul:

* Leave at daybreak and head straight up to the highest peak, making camp only after summiting the peak a few hundred meters further down.
So we did and I have to tell you, I am still not accustomed to the Korean style of hiking. Switchbacks are all but nonexistent here so the incline is intense and, worse still, riddled with stairs - natural and artificial. It was an incredible but tough hike going up and completely unlike anything I had ever attempted before. About halfway up, as is the custom here, was a temple. A charming temple, to say the least. It offered a lovely rest and - bonus! - the most delicious apple I've ever eaten as well as a stone pagoda more than a thousand years old.

Weary but rested we continued on to the summit - resting more and more frequently, I am a bit ashamed to say - and by the time we reached our goal the visibility was almost nonexistent.

Oh well, it's the journey not the destination, right? ^^ Plus, the journey was't over. We'd reached the top but still had to make it to our base camp and then down the mountain. Easier said than done, you know?
Well, actually, one part was easy: going from the summit to the campsite. Less easy was actually overnighting it there. See, the park service kindly offers hikers heated shelters in which to sleep en masse. See we, a group of more than thirty in all, had reserved eight spots. Yep, that's right, eight. So, short story long, a lot of us ended up sleeping outside. The rain gods more or less played nice, though, and although it came close the temperature never actually went below freezing. The consolation prize - because there is always a consolation prize! - was something almost unheard of in Korea: a sky full of stars. It was so wonderful to see stars for once - with the air clean and clear and without the neon technicolors of Seoul you could see so much. It was magical. Just me, the open sky, and the guy snuggling next to me for warmth snoring away.^^

* Break camp and head back home the long way.
We broke camp somewhat later the following day than the day before - I mean, it was fully daylight this time - and headed down. Sort of. First we headed over, then down. The air was clearer today and the views better.

In short, it was breathtaking. My camera did not - does not - do it justice, but the sheer rawness of the beauty was fantastic. The way down was no easier than the way up, although a quick dip in a waterfall was exactly as soothing as you would expect. In sum, was a lovely time with lovely people and I would go back again in a heartbeat.

I am much too new to be this busy...

2009-05-25T00:01:00.003-04:00

... and far too lucky for my own good. ^^ On Friday I celebrated my first month in Korea. On the day in question - May 22nd - my coworkers took me out but I've been a busy beaver all week:
* Tuesday I had dinner and drinks with Jae Sik;
* Wednesday I had curry with Connie [which, incidentally, is really fun to say];
* Thursday I met up with Hauen for a little chess;
* Friday was traditional Korean barbeque (bulgogi) and way, way too much soju with my coworkers as well as my Jirisan departure;
* Saturday and Sunday = Jirisan!

So, in sum, it's been a good week for a newbie. ^^ All other things aside, doesn't this just look delicious? Because it is, oh it totally is.

The world shrinks and my head spins.

2009-05-24T19:56:00.003-04:00

Take a look at what I saw at my local metro station on my way to Jirisan last Friday.

Look closely.
Yep, that's some Peruvian pan flute players.
At the metro.
In Korea.

It's hard for me to explain exactly why this so completely blows my mind - although I'm sure it has a bit to do with the contrasts captured in this one photo - but, well, it does.

PS Jirisan update to follow, post haste!

Dobongsan!

2009-05-19T00:56:00.008-04:00

I swear I do non-hiking things. I swear I'm more well-rounded than this blog has indicated of late. I swear... but, well, it's just so damned photogenic!

Next week I am going on a three-day hiking trip to Jirisan - at 1915 meters (6282 feet) the tallest mountain in mainland South Korea - so this weekend I tagged along for a warm up with the hiking group I'm going with. Although a great deal of fun was had, as this picture indicates we were anything but warm.

On the bright side - literally - the rain stopped right after we reached the summit, affording us a rare sight in and around Seoul: clear skies. The air quality here isn't too bad, but it does normally keep visibility down. After the morning rains, however, it was clear skies and lovely views!

[What you cannot see here: the people standing on this promontory!]

At the bottom of the mountain, of course, were the two things I've grown to know and love while hiking in Korea:
1) temples

2) Makgeolli!

[Korean rice wine]

Small-city Seoul?

2009-05-16T00:58:00.002-04:00

It pays to be blonde in a small world, I suppose. Today, after only three weeks in Seoul - and not even in Seoul proper, but in the satellite city of Anyang - I randomly ran into somone I know. A girl I met a week prior halfway across the city. I know it's not earth-shattering, it's not incredible, but to me it's interesting.
Suddenly this city of 20 million seems a whole lot smaller. I could get used to that. ^^

This is My New Everyday.

2009-05-13T00:28:00.006-04:00

Okay, so I'm a little behind on the blog posts for the stupidest reason imaginable: my camera battery is dead and I cannot recharge it. Yep, I said it. Stupidest reason ever. See, I have a camera and I had a power converter, but my last couchsurfer kind of, sort of blew it up. It was an accident, I know, but that doesn't mean my iPhone photos do justice to my experiences of late.

On Saturday, for example, I meant to meet up with a local group of Hash House Harriers but despite my hour-long trip into the north of Seoul they turned out to be no shows. So instead I took a bit of a walk and stumbled upon this:

Gyeongbok Palace

I didn't go in - although exactly why I cannot quite remember - and instead went on to Itaewon to pick up the ingredients necessary to make hummus. Mmm... delicious. Getting back on the metro, I headed home to Anyang but once at my local station I headed East instead of my usual West. This is what I found:

Anyang River

It was, as you can see, a beautiful, sunny day and walking along the length of the river a found an amazing cycling path. Now all I want to do is buy a bike and take it for a test drive here. Come payday - next week - I think I'll do just that.
The next day, also surprisingly beautiful - the forecast called for rain but it did not - I went to this park tantalizingly close to my school. Well, I thought it was a park. It turns out it is the gateway to highest mountain in Anyang:

View from Surisan

So there I was, at the top of a secondary peak in my sandals. As if being blonde wasn't enough to make my neighbors stare! Luckily it is only a fifteen minute walk from my apartment so I'll be back. Oh yeah, you betcha - I'll be back.

Simple Pleasures and "you are the only one"

2009-05-07T20:15:00.006-04:00

I am quick to smile these days and in that way Korea would seem to be the perfect thing for me. A thousand things a day make me smile here. As I said, though, I'm easy. Like a cat I am drawn to shiny objects or pretty colors and Seoul is riddled with such things. Any day of the week the streets seem to be decorated for the Lantern Festival or Parents' Day or just with the unceasing neon of the officetels. Yet this simple drawing, on display in Gwanghwamun Station just below the Sejong Center in Central Seoul, blows any of those out of the water and has captivated me for days. So, in the interest of sharing life's simple pleasures, here is Lae Tae Wook's you are the only one:

Also on display, if less arresting:

PS Although I cannot translate the Korean that was with the flower, that last one, the burst of color that it is, is appropriately named Climax.

Buddha's Birthday : The Lantern Festival Parade

2009-05-06T22:08:00.000-04:00

I know I mentioned somewhere before that the big thing in Korea last week was Buddha's Birthday - happy 2572nd, big guy! - and the big thing for me, as a result, was the Lantern Festival Parade that accompanied it. It's been some time since the event (it took a while to go through all the pictures) but as this is Korea's biggest street parade I thought I'd post a few pictures anyway. Better late than never, you know?

This is the kind of thing I moved to Korea for:

What a Difference a Year Makes

2009-05-05T21:10:00.006-04:00

I am, as always, getting behind in blog posts - it's just too hard at times to both live life and accurately record it - but I cannot let a day like yesterday pass without at least trying to tell you a little about it.
Yesterday was, simultaneously, Childrens' Day in Korea and Cinco de Mayo in Mexico. Because of the former it was a holiday here but because of the later I cannot help but think how much things have changed for me in a single year.

2008: A year ago, as this blog itself shows, I was in Mexico itself, celebrating Cinco de Mayo with Humberto, Allain, and Remy in Guanajuato, the heart of Mexican independence.

2009: This year I was half a world away in Seoul, Korea playing frisbee, drinking soju, and eagerly anticipating 2000 won tacos by the Han river with new friends.

Forget, for just a minute, the worries of the world. Forget the wars, the famine, the strife. I know I am the luckiest man in the world, but try to see the world as I see it. As a place of infinite possibilities, a big, beautiful world full of sunshine and laughter.

I know I am lucky, so unbelievably lucky, but I wish everyone could see what I see.

PS Damnation, I am definitely getting more sentimental in my old age...

Taking the Cell Phone Plunge and other excitement in Itaewon

2009-05-02T17:44:00.000-04:00

Today, Saturday, was rainy and quietly gloomy so I took the opportunity to spend some time running errands. Of course this Korea and I've only been here for about ten days so simple errands become serious midadventures.
So I woke up and headed to Itaewon because I received a tip from a fellow CouchSurfer that absolutely unbelievable deals on cell phones could be found there. In the end she was right - it took some serious searching to find a distributor - so I took the plunge and bought and Korean cellphone. It cost roughly $50 dollars, is prepaid with about $20 of talk time, and is named George. The number is 010-5784-4765 and no, I don't have any idea how to call that from the USA. Ask skype; it will be activated on Monday morning/ Sunday night.
But, but, but - and this is exciting part - in addition to having cheap cell phones Itaewon also has the largest concentration of foreigners in Seoul, a mosque, and food that goes with them. So while there - and while most of the things in my local street market seem like little more than vague mysteries - I went to the halal markets and loaded up on the essentials. You know, chick peas, curries, and so on. One of these days I'll get up the courage to make my own hummus... and when I do, I'll be sure to call and tell you all about it.

Street Food!

2009-05-01T07:41:00.006-04:00

I think Korean street food is so delicious because I have no idea what it is I'm eating or, really, what it should taste like. That having been said, I definitely just had this omelete-esque thing and it was amazing. Who knew soy sauce was a key ingredient in the most important meal of the day?

Coffee Break Introductions

2009-04-28T10:39:00.000-04:00

So, it's day three at the office and everyone is getting over their
initial shyness. Which is great - actually it totally is - but
everyone comes up separately and social custom seems to dictate that
lengthy introductions should be conducted over a cup of coffee. Each.
I'm on cup five now and if this keeps up we might just have to hold
this afternoon's meet and greets directly in the bathroom. ^^

Working in a Korean office is, well, weird.

2009-04-27T00:17:00.005-04:00

This cracks me up. Here is a picture of the messaging program we use at work. You’ll never guess which one is me.

PS Mad props to Google for offering a free and fairly accurate translation program!

Yep. I’m definitely going to have to learn Korean.

2009-04-25T21:41:00.002-04:00

It’s not for the reason you might think. I actually get along quite well with my charming little pantomines and bows. I want to learn Korean because I want to be able to tell all of the kind people I meet how kind they are. Because not a day goes by where I do not meet another quietly wonderful person and, frankly, komapsumnida just isn’t cuttting it.
Take this morning for example: while waiting for the bus* to go to work one of the teachers at the school I work in was driving by and, seeing me, offered – nay, insisted – on driving me straight there instead. How can I not want to thank him more elaborately for such a simple kindness?
Take Saturday for example. While climbing Mt. Gwanak in southern south I was literally saved from falling – granted saved from falling about ten feet – by another Korean man who, though exactly my size, basically hoisted me over the ledge I was scaling. He definitely thought he saved my life and, well, even if he didn’t he certainly restored some of my faith in humanity. Do you think they make a Hallmark card for that?
So yes, here I am, typing this entry and researching Korean immersion schools because, well… 내가해야합니다 [I must].
* A bus, I might add, that picks up not two blocks from my building goes directly to my office and costs all of 75 cents. I. love. Korea.

I climbed a mountain and all I got (to see) was this awesome Buddhist temple.

2009-04-25T20:29:00.003-04:00

Jet-lag be damned. After weeks of calling a stroll a hike in the Florida flatlands, I couldn’t resist the temptation to begin hiking in Korea as soon as possible. Which is how I ended up, Saturday morning, taking the metro [subway] to Mt. Gwanaksan.* The weather wasn't so great but, well, if there’s a mountain the area I’m going to climb it. So, climb it I did, or at least try to. It’s not that the trail wasn’t well-marked – it was – it’s that it was absurdly well-marked in Korean. So, basically, I started my day by climbing a mountain and ended it by visiting my first Buddhist temple, Seongjuam. (Apparently I zigged when I was supposed to have zagged... or something... but there are 19 on Gwanaksan so who knows?) Although I eventually reached a lesser summit, I’ll definitely have to go back to try to best the mountain again. Still as the pictures here can attest, the temple made for a nice consolation prize.

* Yes, in Korea you can not only take mass transit to mountains but the actual subway to boot. I. love. this. country.

Added bonus: Cherry Blossoms!

The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain…

2009-04-24T17:02:00.002-04:00

… but the rain in Seoul mostly just falls. Which isn’t a big surprise or really a big deal, but try telling that to the people I see on the street. It hasn’t rained hard since I arrived but, apparently, in Korea, avoiding the rain isn’t a hobby - it’s a lifestyle. If a drop falls in Insadong then umbrellas are already up in Anyang, more than ten kilometers away. So, when my co-teacher Jung-Mi forgot her umbrella while she was – ever so kindly! – driving me to get my heath physical the other day, getting out of the car in the rain was simply not an option.

My question to her: Why can’t we just run for it? It’s just rain. I mean the rain in Seoul isn’t poisonous, is it?
Her response: Not exactly, no…

Yeah, I’m just going to pretend she’s joking…

PS All that having been said, the city really is quite beautiful after a little shower or two!

My Anyang Apartment

2009-04-23T15:23:00.001-04:00

Today would have been my first day at work but it is a holiday, so I'm taking the opportunity to settle into my apartment and neighborhood. I really, really, really like my apartment. It's much larger and far better equipped than I had imagined. It took ages to get the place the way I wanted - and when I say ages I mean, like, two and a half hours, but still - but I finally finished and here are the photos to prove it.

Starting at the beginning, this is the threshold of my apartment. No shoes may pass!

The entire corridor here is lined with closets. More than I could ever use. Here's one - I have eight - open:

Now that the formalities are out of the way, this my favorite place in the apartment - my desk.

Behind this area, parallel to the entrance hallway, is my kitchen. Nothing too exciting, but it is a marvel of space-saving design. Check out the washing machine below the stove!

See also my new best friend: Cuchen the Rice Cooker. I have no idea what the buttons say, but I used it this morning and - to my delight - it is idiot-proof.

So far as I can tell, in the land of one-pot cooking I have one burner extra (rather than two too few). Maybe the second, smaller, one which you cannot see is for tea?

Que sorpresa! The former occupant of this apartment left me all manner of surprises. Indeed, in addition to the art above and the books below, he left me a hand-drawn map of the neighborhood!

A close up of the books. It's mostly classic literature and fantasy, but I'll take any port in the storm!

One of my few packing excesses, the Cafe Bustelo can is already doing double duty. Not only does it hold all my small coins but, being the only metal object in my apartment, holds another packing excess - my Mardi Gras magnet.

These two desktop stalwarts are pictured together because the Zohar, given to me by Jenny in order to foster good luck, already has begun working wonders: e.g., the all-important Survival Korean textbook which was left for my by my predecessor.

Between my desk and the kitchen are these two chairs, which I've taken to calling The Thrones. They are even more comfortable than they look.

I'm not exactly sure what this is, to be honest. Given than the apartment already has a desk and I'm currently using the studio's traditional Korean table as a TV stand, I have a feeling it will be little more than a beautiful eccentricity.

Lastly, my bed, also known as the place where I spent 12 hours last night recovering from jetlag:

Underway

2009-04-22T14:23:00.000-04:00

Everything is running on time and, so far at least, running smoothly. Still, I find that there is something mildly poetic about hurtling through the air at hundreds of miles an hour* en route to Korea. It makes it all seem to futuristic. ^^

I have a window seat and the one next to me is empty. This, despite the fact that it
has been daylight for the entire run, means I actually got to catch a few hours of sleep towards the beginning of the flight.

Siberia from above is fascinating but it makes Iceland look hospitable.

Also, irony of ironies, my first "Korean" meal had matzos. Because special meal requests tend to be served first (and made fresh) I've made it a habit of ordering them on transatlantic flights and this one was no different. Much to my amusement, however, in this instance "kosher" translated as Passover-approved" ('tis the season, I guess). Hence the matzos, charoset, and gefilte fish. It's a hell of a send off, let me tell you!

* Soon the reconversion to metric begins anew!

The Shortest Distance Between Two Points...

2009-04-19T12:56:00.002-04:00

Korean Visa: Check
Korean Air Ticket: Check!

Added Bonus: an extra day (I'm leaving on Tuesday the 21st instead of Monday) and as nerdy as it sounds, my first Great Circle flight ever. I'll give Santa my best!

See you on the flip side!

Going in Circles

2009-04-16T20:40:00.002-04:00

As Freud might have said, "Sometimes a map is just a map." Take this one for example:

If it looks like a big circle that's because it is, much to my chagrin. While most of the paperwork associated with the impending Korea move - now just days away! - is usually little more than a paper chase, today's all-important step seemed more like I was chasing my tail. See, with mere days left in country and family flying in to say goodbye, I spent my day driving to and from Atlanta - some 12+ hours on the road - for a pro forma interview with the Korean consulate in Atlanta. Frankly I can think of about a thousand things I would have rather done with my day but, well, thankfully it's over and done with now.

However, lest I seem too dour, the silver lining is this: now all I have to do is wait for my new visa to arrive in the mail and I'm off!

I’m Moving to Korea

2009-04-01T08:35:00.000-04:00

No, really. I leave in two weeks. I'll be recruiting other likeminded souls to teach English and be doing the same myself, ten hours a week, with pre-teens and teenagers in a government school in Anyang, Gyeonggi-do, South Korea. I'll be gone a year.

A year.

The idea of Korea seems so random, so out-of-nowhere, I know. Only it isn’t. I’ve been planning this for about six weeks now – I was actually originally offered the job in December 2008 – but after the Mexican Immigration debacle I’ve been carefully trying not count my eggs before they hatch this time.

So now I've done my due diligence and I'm happy to report that I am ready to move to Korea.

Korea. Korea? Me in Korea? The guy who doesn't know a single word of the language?

Yes.

Hell yes.

After all, why not? Why not? You all know these two words constantly echo in my ears. Why not? I have been amazingly fortunate thus far but I want to see more of the world. The last two years have been the happiest of my life. I want to learn more and live more.

I want to be surprised.

Why not?

I'm not saying that I know the next five years of my future, but I do at least know the next one. Well, I know that's in Korea, if not much else.

So please do keep checking the site. My ambition is to keep an honest travelogue here that will take you along for new everyday adventures. So join me.

Thanks, or as the Koreans say ...

komapsumnida?

[Dear god, I have no idea how to pronounce that.]

Coming Soon!

2009-03-28T15:36:00.002-04:00

No, really, big things are just around the corner so watch this space for exciting developments in:

* The Past
* The Present
and
* The Future

Wait, what?

2009-03-24T12:50:00.000-04:00

The world is an impossibly small place. That or people just are too imaginitive. Either way, finding another Monter[r]ey rural Pennsylvania is the last thing I expected. Do you think they have churros?

These are the little things that distract me as I begin the drive home.

Goodbye Monterrey, goodbye Pennsylvania. Hello possibilities!

Manisha, Manhattan, and more pictures

2009-02-27T20:11:00.009-05:00

Tonight is Kim's birthday but today was my chance to visit my local city of lights. I was inspired to act as a tourist again by my friend Manisha.* She came for an impromptu overnight visit en route from Bogota to Mumbai a few weeks ago and was so excited to be in America for the first time that this was her reaction to my license plate:

Or, likewise, at an American flag and subway car:

Her best smile though? Reserved for a post-dance party trip to a punjabi greengrocers.

[Seriously, she looks like a starving woman in a feast!]

It was a miserable day for pictures but I managed to catch a few things I'd never seen before. My favorite example? The sad panda wandering near Wall Street. Somehow so fitting...

All in all it was a lovely way to spend an afternoon, even if the weather was a bit dreary. That night was a pirate-themed birthday party for Kim in a board game bar (nirvana for Kim, let me tell you) so weather stopped being a factor. My failings at BananaGrams, however are another story entirely...

* Manisha, the best CouchSurfing host in history, with whom I stayed (you may recall) for a week in Manizales, Colombia in October 2008.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do...

2009-02-04T00:40:00.004-05:00

... when in Pennsylvania, go to Groundhog's Day?

Okay, sure, why not?

It was all kind of fun. I went with three Allentown CouchSurfers - Jeremy, Daisy, and Jessica - and even though Jeremy got a ticket en route a good time was had by all. While there we met Katy and Frank, from nearby Pittsburgh and whole mess of groundhog enthusiasts. Further proof that there is intelligent life in your backyard.

Waiting for the, er, hog himself.

Obligatory group picture at the Knob.

Warming up by the fire.

Posing with town statuary...

... and other things.

Snow Hiking (remix)

2009-01-31T18:17:00.000-05:00

I went hiking today in the Trexler Nature Preserve. I might never get used to this. Skies so clear and fields so white. It's amazing in such a quiet and simple way. In addition to the scenic pictures below, all along the little four mile, snow-covered trail I saw rabbit and deer prints. As cold as I was, I can only imagine how they felt...

This is why I moved North

2009-01-19T13:15:00.000-05:00

Well, not for this exactly, but things like it. After all, they just don't make weekends like this in The South:

*) Obama makes Whistle-Stop Appearance in Baltimore. Yours truly is there, along with Kim, and we both drove for hours and then waited in the freezing cold just to see the man speak for five minutes.

Totally worth it.

*) "We Are One" Concert on National Mall with Bryan Andersen, my arch-conservative friend = infinite win. There is simply nothing more I can say than that. Even he was won over by the presence of both Obama and Bono.

[Pictures from "We Are One" Concert courtesy if The New York Times.]

What rhymes with Polka? [My birthday, that's what!]

2009-01-14T20:23:00.009-05:00

Through some strange circumstances I have celebrated my last three birthdays in New York. This year was no different, but (blissfully) the commute was easier.* Likewise, wonderfully, as the two usually go hand in hand I have celebrated all three with my sister. The third part of this little trifecta, though, is a bit more unusual: polka. Yes, that's right, think lederhosen.

Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's genetics. Maybe it is Kim's friend and roommate Caley, who is an unbelievable Germanophile. Even if it is a simple combination of all three, though, it is still great fun. I mean, how can you go wrong with beer, sausages, and dancing?

Added bonus: The Devil Went Down to Bavaria!

(I really wish I'd taped the version I saw, but this'll have to do...)

Oh, and did I mention THE ALPINE HORN?

* I mean it would have to be: I came in from Tel Aviv last year. [Which, in retrospect, makes this year's celebration all that much stranger.]

Out of the Valley (and out of the blue)

2009-01-11T13:57:00.007-05:00

So tomorrow is my birthday but because I have work, today is my present to myself - and it has the makings of a perfect day.

Here's the checklist:
✓ Gallo Pinto breakfast.
Delicious!

✓ Clear weather.
Added bonus, it snowed yesterday - which is thrilling for me but terrifying for my car.

✓ Hiking
To the Poconos and back for a mid-day, waterfall-laden jaunt to Hawk Falls which was six shades of awesome.

✓ Surprise Bonus: Folk and Indian Music!
Living in Allentown I have come to expect the former but not the latter - much less the two back to back on the local NPR station. Let me tell you, friends, nothing makes driving through empty, snow-covered country roads seem as magical as a tabla and sitar accompaniment. Way to go, WDIY.

PS For those of you surprised by my sudden, northern reemergence, worry not: I finally have the internet again and will fill in the blanks accordingly.

Starting up at The Start-up

2009-01-06T16:43:00.000-05:00

I am, as the title of this entry suggests, just starting as the start-up. I have officially moved all of my things in - and up three flights of stairs no less - and positioned my furniture in just the right way. It is so fung shui it hurts.
Yesterday was also my first official day of work, and it mostly consisted of alternating bouts of introductions and paperwork. I am actually living with one of my coworkers, Spencer - a documentary filmmaker I will be representing and space in his house is part of my compensation - so I met him on day one, but the rest of the people I'll be working with have been trickling in for the last day or so for an official meet and greet. It's a bit overwhelming, in a way, but even the mounds of filings I had to fill out for the incorporation proceedings today were not enough to dampen my enthusiasm.

I think I am going to like it here.

EDIT: I take it back. Work is fine but I'm pretty sure I just saw my first snow fall on the horizon - everybody run!

A Picture Shows A Thousand Words; Maps Are Even Better

2009-01-01T20:40:00.000-05:00

I like maps. I like maps for a lot of reasons – they have a bad habit of revealing more about their makers than their subjects, for one – but among the simplest is this: maps show distance and to me, the would-be traveler, distance is the same as progress. Take the map below: it shows you, in a way, how I just progressed.

From my parent's house in Florida to my new one in Pennsylvania (with numerous Virginia social visits in between), this map covers a lot of distance and maybe, just maybe, a little progress. Having officially competed school – the ceremony (which I did not attend) took place just before Christmas and my degree is supposedly in the mail – this map shows my next milestone: my first job. What it does not show is that, in addition to being absurdly cold in this frozen tundra, from here on out I am also employed as the Managing Director of a start-up creative arts nonprofit in Allentown, PA.

This is all equal parts terrifying and exhilarating; wish me luck!

The Books The Carried Me Through

2008-11-25T16:16:00.000-05:00

For better or for worse (and trust me, there is a lot of "worse" - English lit. was scarce resource at some points), this was my reading list from the Rio Grande to Aruba.

The Power and the Glory
Guns, Germs, and Steel
Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
A History of Latin America
The Metamorphosis
Love in the Time of Cholera
Slaughterhouse-Five
Foundation and Empire
The House on Mango Street
Far From the Maddening Crowd
Lapham's Quarterly (War)
La Divina Comedia
The Luncheon of the Boating Party
Relato de un náufrago
The Teahouse Fire
Newsweek Special Edition (July 2008)
The Economist (June 2008)
Barrel Fever and Other Stories
Into Thin Air
Light a Penny Candle/ The Lilac Bus
The Liar's Club
The Innocent Man
The Good Earth
The Path Between The Seas
Cien años de soledad
Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde
Longitude
Sailing Alone Around The World
The Agony and the Ecstacy
The Idiot
The Pillars of the Earth

I'm Back, or The Master Map

2008-11-23T08:11:00.000-05:00

Two flights, two buses, and nine months later...

[Because, you know, I love maps.]

An Attempt At A Recap (For my memory as much as for posterity)

2008-11-08T13:36:00.005-05:00

Day 1: Cartagena; Old Town
Day 2: Cartagena; La Popa and Castillo de San Felipe; Bus to Medellin
Day 3: Medellin; Palm Tree Hostel and Martina; Metro/ Teleferico/ Spanish Library/ Botanical Gardens/ Krishna Lunch
Day 4: Medellin; The Ignominious March to El Peñol (La Piedra)
Day 5: Manizales; Bus to Manizales; Rendezvous with Manisha, Tomas, and Doris; Coffee Farm Arrival (Jose, Cathy)
Day 6: Manizales; Highland hiking, stream swimming, highway hijinks, and dancing.
Day 7: Manizales; A day in Manizales
Day 8: Manizales; Abortive attempts at swimming; Agua panela con queso; onward to Salento; Teresa
Day 9: Salento; Valle de Cocora with Teresa, Marc, and Herlinda (60 meter wax palms and snow!)
Day 10: Salento; A day in Salento
Day 11: Salento to Pereira to Marsalla; Buses, cemeteries, and naked Bolivar - oh my!; Overnight to Bogota
Day 12: Bogota; History, politics, and culture: a day in Bogota; Israeli food!
Day 13: Bogota; Shopping Bogota and abortive attempts at theater
Day 14: Bogota; Climb Cerro Monserrate; Bus to Tunja
Day 15: Tunja morning; Villa de Leyva afternoon; a tale of two miradores; Laura, Jessie, and Oscar
Day 16: Villa de Leyva; in search of waterfalls near Santa Sofia; Paso de Los Angeles
Day 17: Villa de Leyva; biking through the countryside and through history: from dinosaur bones to prehispanic fertility cults and beyond; getting L-O-S-T; Overnight to Cucuta and the border
Day 18: Into Venezuela, slowly but surely; 28 hours by bus from Villa de Leyva, Colombia to Merida, Venezuela
Day 19: Merida; A Day in Merida; Planning
Day 20: Into the Andes; Hacienda El Carrizal
Day 21: Through the Andes; From El Carrizal to El Quino... without Boca e' Monte
Day 22: Descending Back to Earth
Day 23: Merida; Aguas Termales
Day 24: Merida; Pico de la Aguila, Paso del Condor; 4100 meters up, 8 degrees north of the equator and 8 degress above zero...
Day 25: Like a bat out of Venezuela and into Colombia (Santa Marta)
Day 26: Taganga; Life's a beach
Day 27: Taganga; ...more beach...
Day 28: Minca; the mountains, one last time
Day 29: Minca; waterfalls galore
Day 30: Taganga redux; Election Night - you, me, and CNN
Day 31: Cartagena; Welcome back to Astor

Some things just never go away

2008-11-05T13:28:00.000-05:00

This is the second time in as many months I've been headed toward a sailboat and, likewise, the second time I've felt like this. I guess I never mentioned it before - things just got away from me, I suppose - but damn I miss my dad.

So...

2008-11-04T23:17:00.000-05:00

... how about that President?

Bogotá

2008-10-19T20:24:00.001-04:00

It was only inevitable that I would fall in love with Bogotá. After all, my travels thus far have made few things less abundantly obvious than my love for big cities. After all, where else do you find all this within one square kilometer?

Colonial Architectural

Public Transportation* - The Transmilenio

* No, seriously, gotta love the Transmilenio: it's a subway without the infrastructure costs and quite possibly the most brilliant thing I've ever seen.

Angry Protesters

Ciclovía Sundays!

A different country, a different tone.

2008-10-18T18:18:00.003-04:00

Where Mexico had Frida Khalo, Colombia has Fernando Botero. While I of course appreciate the former - in fact, I dare say I prefer her - its hard not to be carried away by Botero. Especially in Medellin, his hometown, and Bogota where his art is everywhere. ... and I do mean everywhere: painter, sculptor, and satirist anywhere his work can go, it does.* Not that I am complaining; what´s not to love?

* Not bad for a living artist.

Mission Accomplished!

2008-10-12T17:02:00.005-04:00

My hunt for mountains has led me farther south faster than I anticipated, so much the better!

Let me try to explain: Just as frustrated with hostels as I was with the flatlands, I contacted a (wonderful) CouchSurfer name Manisha and she's been as unbelievably welcoming from the word go. In fact, we just came back from two days of absurdity in Chinchina (not far from Manizales) where the landscape reminded me of Costa Rica and the people of the United Nations. Colombia in general and Manizales specifically is apparently a hotbed of English-language instruction to such an extent that it has attracted instructors from countries as diverse as India (Manisha), Nigeria (Doris), and The United States (Cathy). Throw into the mix a couple of locals (Jose, Carlos) and another [French] Couchsurfer and you have all the ingredients necessary for an unbelievable weekend, complete with hiking, swimming, and inadvertent hitchhiking.

I feel now like I am beginning to see the best Colombia has to offer and more than ever like I am the luckiest man alive!

Onward and (blissfully) upward!

2008-10-10T16:48:00.001-04:00

It is amazing what you can and, ultimately, cannot get used to. For example, it took only a few months in the hill of Monterrey to make me a stauch devotee of mountain landscapes and it seems something easier to set than to break: after three weeks on flat ground in Panama or literally at sea level en route to Colombia* it was like my entire childhood was forgotten. Indeed, the driving heat of coastal Colombia was too much for me, and I left for higher and cooler climes yesterday. My first port of call is Medellín, some five hundred kilometers south and some 1500 meters further up. Oh and what a difference it is! The city is lovely, in its way - it reminds me a lot of Monterrey, in a way, and is likewise achingly modern but, well, greener - and the climate is idyllic. Here I am, wearing a sweater and everything! Unfortunately, though, the weather is only one half of the equation: now that I am among mountains, I want to be in them, too. Next stop: hiking!

* This from a Florida native!

Coffee! ¡Café! ¡Tinto!

2008-10-08T16:40:00.000-04:00

Man, forget about Starbucks and try to remember everything you used to know about Juan Valdez and his friends: Colombian coffee is king. A delicious one, at that, and this royalty can be had for a song. This is particularly exciting for yours truly because after the horror that is Mexican [instant] Nescafé and the unbelievable expense of Costa Rican blends, even in Costa Rica.* No, no, here in Colombia the coffee is hot, (reasonably) fresh, and on almost every street corner and a cup will set you back about 200 Colombian pesos, or 13 cents. No, no, here it is good and cheap and plentiful and - given the complete absence of soda here and in my diet - almost worth the trip in and of itself.

* Which is especially ironic because Costa Rica is the number one exporter of coffee in all of Central America... but I digress.

All That From a Library

2008-10-06T18:01:00.004-04:00

Like any good student of Medieval History, I adore churches and fortunately for me, Cartagena is chock full of particularly charming ones (the Spanish really did adore this city). What makes me absolutely love Cartagena, however, is not its churches but its library. [As a man of indeterminate faith but strong convictions, you see, a library will always be my sanctuary.] It is the first (non-national) one I have seen since Mexico and it is small and quiet and air-conditioned and wonderful. The other joys of the city notwithstanding, it reminds me of my earliest days in Monterrey - a library was my refuge then, too - and that much more cognizant of how far I have come in the intervening months. Forget the distance - the further I go and the more I miss my family and friends the less ¨impressive¨ geography becomes (much the contrary, actually) - and think instead of, well, everything else. Take, as I often do, Spanish as a yardstick. When I crossed the border into Mexico in April I could barely speak a word of Spanish - and what little I then thought I knew was dutifully corrected by Sergio and Erika - and pointed avoided non-English interactions at all costs. [Not my finest moments, I´ll admit, but fear not it - did not last long.]

Here and now, though, having been shot out of the bottom end of Central America, things are radically different. Now I speak not just for myself but for my crew aboard the Astor* and all I want to do is use this wonderful language I am learning as much as possible.

More telling still is the fact that now I not only understand border security but argue with them. I negotiate, make friends - and even jokes. It may not sound like much but it is proof positive that the Spanish Gamble** is paying off and that the days of ¿Donde esta la biblioteca? are long, long gone.

* A job translating was never something I expected... or qualify for!
** You know, the whole move to Latin America and learn Spanish thing? Yeah, that.

Surprise!: South America Here I Come

2008-10-03T18:02:00.000-04:00

As the map above demonstrates, Cartagena, Colombia is clearly north of Panama* and therefore on the way home to Florida. Sure, right. Which, then, explains how exactly I ended up here [well, if add in the whole sailboat thing, I suppose], even if I wasn´t quite expecting to. Sure, right. In truth the decision was not mine - rather it was Astor´s captain, Richard´s - so even if I was not exactly expecting this, I am not exactly one to look a gift horse in the mouth; a little Colombia exploration is in order. (We will be in Cartagena for a few weeks, actually, waiting for hurricaine season to end, giving me more than enough time to explore in a somewhat limited range.)
After all, I started my trip southward thinking that there was no more necessary a stopping point than The Panama Canal - how was I to know it might just have been the beginning?

* ...and more to the point, of the San Blas Islands, from where the Astor began its trek northward.

Shipboard, again

2008-09-25T18:35:00.000-04:00

My travels are increasingly being defined by abrupt left turns - you´ll forgive me if I even go so far as to call this one a jibe - but that suits me just fine. It feels good to be on a boat again, especially a boat such as this. Indeed, having spent so much of my time of late in water, it is nice for once simply to be on it. The boat, Astor, is itself incredible. 86ft (26m) long, but only 13 across (4m), she is a woodened-hulled schooner from 1923 that just cuts through the water. She was designed for racing and, according to Richard and Lani, even though her displacement is 63 tons she can go over 30 knots - and when she does, watch out: it can take her up to two miles to come to a full stop. It is, needless to say, the biggest boat I´ve ever sailed on and damned intimidating. Fortunately for me, her owners, the aforementioned Richard and Lani, are anything but. California retirees in their 60s who have been slowly sailing Astor around select parts of the world for the last eight years - they are warm, friendly and inviting. They, like the boat itself, are better than I could have ever hoped for.

As if all of this were not enough, however, get this: the first night´s menu was the absolute freshest lobster you have ever seen.

I could get used to this!

Into the drink, dear friends!

2008-09-23T16:38:00.007-04:00

So, having now reached the Panama Canal - and let me tell you, seriously, wow - by way of the longest bus ride in recent memory (15 hours, San Jose to Panama City), my journey south has come to an end. Fortunately, however, my journey back north is just beginning! Through a strange serious of coincidences - the best kind, I always say - I have lucked into passage, as crew, aboard the very sailboat pictured above. The timing is not exactly perfect (thus my marathon travel session), but the set-up is, so this time tomorrow I will be working my way north from the San Blas Islands of Panama.*
I could not, I assure you, be more excited.
Next stop: the high seas!

* This also means that communication of all kind will have to be kept to a minimum. Phone calls, IMs, e-mails, and even this blog with pretty much dry up for the duration. On the bright side, the boat has an e-mail address, so you can sporadically check its progress here: http://www.astor.org/

Much by accident, I assure you!

2008-09-10T16:54:00.004-04:00

Over the last few days I´ve been climbing Cerro Chirripo, Costa Rica´s highest mountain and the tallest point between Guatemala and Peru. To put it simply, the hike has been incredibly intense and took some three days in all. Not quite the vacation from work I was hoping for, but really, how many times can you stand in one place and see the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans at the same time? Incredible. More impressive pictures to follow [eventually].

At the same time, it suddenly occured to me after reaching the summit that I´ve come a long way from both the Smokeys and Mexico, hiking-wise. I have this habit, it appears, of over-estimating my previous climbing experiences* so when I thought my latest attempt - Cerro Chirripo, 3820m or 12532ft - was about on par with my earlier exploits, I guess I thought wrong. By, oh, about half. I mean, I´ve already made it to the top (getting back is a different matter entirely, actually), but it truly is an order magnitude greater than anything I have tried before: the next tallest thing I´ve climbed might actually have been Cerro de la Silla (1820m or 5971ft) all the way back in the early days of Monterrey. Even Maderas, which brought me such endorphin-induced joy a few weeks ago was smaller than that. I mean, that makes sense, in a way (both were one-day climbs, whereas Chirripo has become a three-day affair) but you try telling that to my aching feet...

Still, tired though I may be, the same old feelings are there: equal measures exhaustion and exaltation.

* Maybe this has something to do with the metric system or maybe it´s just a way for me to feel better the next day when my knees don´t work, but who knows?

Coming to terms with Costa Rica

2008-09-05T19:08:00.000-04:00

If I have remained conspicuously silent about my life as it is now in Costa Rica, there is a reason: compared to what has recently transpired both my life and the country itself are exceptionally dull.

The former is obviously the easier of the two to explain: having moved the travel bag into storage for the duration and being somewhat gainfully employed, I now have what approaches a routine. As much as I like the consistency after so much that was decidedly not consistent, even I (in retrospect) am bored to tears by the minutiae of my day-to-day.

The country itself is a harder nut to crack. It is wonderfully beautiful and its residents are possibly even kinder than their Central American brethren, but still it leaves me wanting. Let me put it this way: after so many weeks on the road, in so many alarmingly different cultures whose various eccentricies prompted no small number of ¨only in Mexico, El Salvador, Nicaragua, etc.,¨ I find it all but impossible to say the same thing about Costa Rica. Wonderful it is, but different it is not. I mean, perhaps it is exceptional for its normalcy - the banal has historically been in short supply in this neck of the woods - but as beautiful, orderly, and safe as it is, at times I think I am no longer in Central America but rather Middle America.*

I like it here a lot, don´t get me wrong - I even like my job, such as it is - but I do miss the sense of adventure.

* This may mean nothing to the rest of you, but when I saw, in the central market of San Isidro, market stalls not only with electricity but refrigeration you could have knocked me over with a feather. I mean, imagine it - fish that stays cold from the catching all the way to the cooking... This is certainly a land more akin to Grand Rapids than Guatemala.

8-25 [Long Overdue]

2008-08-25T17:45:00.000-04:00

All good things must come to an end, but fortunately for Seth and I, some good things end well, too. Just today he flew home, our whirlwind tour of Central America - the "impossible" five countries in twenty-five days - sadly at an end. Still, we arrived in Costa Rica with time to spare and electedto break with tradition. After so many temporary friends, here of all places we have the unique opportunity to meet old friends rather than make new ones. The world is, as I have come to know it, a strange and wonderful place made all that much more so by good friends, life of late has been made better still in the company of two of the best a fellow could ask for. My friends Kevin and Brooke - the former with whom I studied at UF and the latter his lovely wife - recently relocated to Costa Rica for work and [lucky us!] has spent the last few days playing host-cum-guides for both Seth and I. Indeed, it is with a happy heart that we have passed the last few days in northern Costa Rica not in hostels but in their homes, not with strangers but compadres. It is certainly the kind of thing a fellow could get used to: forget the perfect beach days - after so many weeks on strange roads with stranger people, perfect friends will do and then come.

8-23 [Welcome to Costa Rica]

2008-08-23T17:44:00.000-04:00

Trip planning is, by its very nature, so completely removed from the actual act itself as to be almost absurd. What is talked about, sketched tentatively, and even planned for is inevitably so far off - and likewise foreign in fact and conception - that it is with no small sense of disbelief that I stand here, at long last, in Costa Rica. My first impressions of Costa Rica are, like so many of the countries before it, mixed. Neither overwhelmed of disappointed - I was, I knoq now, spoiled rotten by Mexico, El Salvador, and Nicaragua - I am nevertheless looking forward to putting my bag down for a minute and cultivating roots. Still, after eight weeks of travel, five months abroad, and no less than six countries, even I knoq that this will be less "journey's end" and more of "journey's respite." Still, whatever you call it, it will be a welcome change. Even if I know already that Costa Rica will not be a fantasyland of possibilities and opportunities, to my weary feet and aching back nothing sounds more sublime at the moment than going to a local market more than once, of finding a "favorite restaurant," of making honest-to-goodness friends again.* So here's my notice to the world: I'm on travel hiatus again; for now I'm just a resident.

* Not to knock "travel friends" - I love them, I do! - but they are decidedly temporary in nature.

8-21

2008-08-21T14:29:00.000-04:00

How different things are today than yesterday. In fact, today´s tranquility could not stand in more sharp contrast to its predecessor´s frenetic pace. In fact, all we managed to do today was move from one side of the island to the other, leaving plenty of time to again enjoy the waters of Lake Nicaragua and, more importantly, rest our weary bones.
Tomorrow we´re off to Costa Rica, my soon-to-be home-away-from-home, but for now I think I´d rather enjoy the Lake a little more first. :)

8-20

2008-08-20T14:28:00.000-04:00

I cannot remember the last time I felt this good, this happy, this complete. I climbed Maderas today, and frankly the eight-hour uphill hike has left me both mentally and physically exhausted. Which is fantastic, really. It´s the kind of bone weariness you only feel after some extreme exertion, and coupled as it is with the feeling you get of accomplishing some long-ago-imagined task... well, it´s perfection.
More than that, it´s the surest sign yet, as I nestle into my hammock on the side of a dormant volcano, that the absurd direction my life is currently heading in might actually be the right one.

8-19

2008-08-19T14:27:00.000-04:00

We have, as the crow flies, barely moved a inch. Still, even if Granada and Isla de Ometepe seem miniscule, it took no less that two taxis, three buses, and a ferry to make to happen. [That´s not even included the kilometer-plus uphill walk with our bags!] The view of Lake Nicaragua isn´t the only thing that has changed, howeve3r - so, too, has the pace of like. After a few days of cityscapes Seth and I once again find ourselves off the beaten track and loving every minute of it. We´re holed up for the night in Finca Magadalena, a working agricultural cooperative that is located at the base of Maderas, one of Ometepe´s two volcanoes.
Below is the lake and above us the mountain - tonight we´ll swim and tomorrow we´ll climb!

8-18

2008-08-18T14:26:00.000-04:00

Early on in the trip, Seth and took a calculated risk: in lieu of our planned stopover in Antigua, Guatemala we would visit Leon, Nicaragua instead. The reasons for this were many, not the least important being being the fact that I had already visited Antigua and, more importantly, quietly and irrationally hated my time there. Plus the scheduling to make it happen twice was going to be a nightmare of epic proportions. A visit to Leon, on the other dand, would afford us the opportunity to see Nicaragua´s two great colonial cities back-to-back and ¨judge¨ them accordingly.
Well, that which was planned has come to pass and the votes are in. The verdict? For me, Leon by a mile. Both are charming colonial cities, and although Leon is slightly older, Granada has aged better [no thanks to the American conquistador William Walker]. Still, for all its lustre, Granada feels all that much less ¨lived in¨ than Leon. Indeed, even in itsw slightly dilapidated form, Leon ended up being so much more than a colonial city. If Granada was prettier it was also shallower, and Leon´s warts bestowed an extra level of depth for all its homeliness.
Both had lovely churches, true, but the spaces between Leon´s were adorned with murals and museums, commemorating its turbulent past. For example, Leon had the museum of Revolutionary Hereos and Martyrs, while Granada had a museum of Precolombian atifacts, and I know I´m a terrible classicists to say this, but only the former left me thinking well into the night.

8-16

2008-08-16T14:25:00.000-04:00

Lonely Planet, you´re not doing yourself any favors here. First you were off base with Alegria, El Salvador and now you´ve missed the mark with San Lorenzo, Honduras, as well. You´re on thin ice here, bub. Sure, it´s not the most beautiful town I´ve even seen, but I can assure it´s a far sight better than my last Honduran travel experience. Indeed, even if our border crossing was not as speedy as we might have hoped, San Lorenzo and the Gulf of Fonseca its perched on are both better than you led us to believe. I mean, we may be the only foreign tourists in town but hey, there´s a carnival tonight so it can´t be all bad, can it?

Editor´s Note: A large number of Candied Apples says that no, it cannot. :)

8-15

2008-08-15T14:25:00.001-04:00

An Open Letter to Lonely Planet:
Dear Lp - can I call you LP? - I love your products, really I do, but the truth is we need to talk. The elephant in the room is Alegria, El Salvador, which is as lovely as you describe but otherwise not at all in line with your entry. Take for example, Alegria´s picturesque crater lake: although it is in fact stunning it is not 2km downhill from town [Fact: 3km uphill] and likewise not icy [Fact: warm and green].
You and I both know there are other issues but lets try not to let them get in the way of what has otherwise been a lovely day in El Salvador´s highest down. Let´s just promise to try harder next time, okay?
xoxo,
Frankel

PS Oh, one more thing. Why didn´t you tell me they sell gelt in El Salvador. One word: delicious.

8-14

2008-08-14T14:24:00.000-04:00

Say what you will about the politics but leave the people of El Salvador be. Indeed, after only a day on La Rute de las Flores I´m already beginning to wonder why Guatemala recieves so many more visitors than its smalle, southern neighbor. [Fact: El Salvador recieved only 35,000 tourists last year - Guatemala welcomed more than half a million.] I mean, what more could you possibley want than amaiable people, adorable villages, and amazing landscapes? Take Juayua, the first stop on La Ruta, as a case in point. The town´s central park, strewn with flowers, complimented its colonial church, yes, but the seven sucessive waterfalls just a few kilometers outside of town make them pale in comparison. So, too, did our impromptu guide, eight-year-old Juan Carlos, who led Seth and I there and back (the lot of us keeping ourselves entertained with more animal calls than I can make (in Spanish) all for the company and eventually a chocolate sundae. Juan Carlos may be an extreme example, sure, but everyone we met along La Ruta was as helpful as the day is long and, amazingly, seemed downright pleased to see us. Smiles and pleasantries were the order of the day in both Apaneca and Ataco as well. Above all else, though, the latter was exceptionally well named: there, at long last, I had a taco (or three) that met my newfound Mexican standards...

8-13

2008-08-13T14:24:00.000-04:00

Yesterday´s marathon of traveling seems to have been worth it - one day into El Salvador and its already exceeding my expectations. One of the clearest reasons for this may be the ruins at Tazumal, which were themselves much more impressive than I thought they´d be.* So, too, was Lago de Coatepeque, my first - but hopefully not last! - volcanic crater lake. Being now something of a swimming hole gourmand I feel I can say definitively that it, too, was an unexpected surprise. The combination of mountains, water, sky, and El Salvador seems a potent combination.

* More than that, though, they were also the final piece necessary to complete my Five Mayan Nations experience. Amazing, having had never before seen Mayan ruins as recently as May, I have now seen at least one site in each of the five countries there were active in. This just blows me away, really it does.

8-12

2008-08-12T14:23:00.000-04:00

Another day, another border crossing. Although Seth and I started the day in Coban, Guatemala (deep in the central highlands of the country) we are ending it in Ahuachapan, El Salvador (some 16km south of the Guatemala border). Today has, once again, been a travel day, albeit an unsual one. Along the way we returned to Guatemala City (making it the second city in Central America I´ve been too twice), ostensibly so we could change busses but also so
Seth could see the National Palace and Cathedral.
Heck, even I was happy to be back, to go one last time to a restaurant I already knew (not Wendy´s!) and even take the Palace Tour again. Say what you will about Central American capitals, but I genuinely like this one.

PS What I like less are lengthy bus trips through the hinterland, but what´s done is done and now, at long last, I have all of El Salvador to explore.

8-11

2008-08-11T14:22:00.001-04:00

Semuc Champey. Ah Semuc Champey. What can I say about Semuc Champey? Although it literally means ¨the river that flows beneath the ground¨ and it is ¨simply¨ a sumidero (underground and then resurfacing) waterway, its unofficial title as ¨eighth wonder of the world¨ is well deserved. Situated in the middle of the rain-fed brown waters of the Rio Cahabon sit a series of startlingly blue mountain steam-filled pools, each one lower, more tranquil, and more picture perfect than the last. As the name suggests, the Cahabon travels undisturbed beneath all of this, leaving this pristine ecosystem in effect suspended above the raging torrent beneath it. Even now, as I write this, as I describe it, I still find it difficult to grasp. Indeed, more unbelievable still, after so many beautiful rivers, valleys, and lakes, Semuc Champey truly unique unto itself.

8-10

2008-08-10T14:22:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was uneventful, unfortunately, and largely consumed by transferring from Flores to Lanquin in the Guatemalan highlands.* We´re here to see Semuc Champey, a self-proclaimed ¨Wonder of the World,¨ but that isn´t until tomorrow. Instead, today was taken up by the wonders of our hostel, El Retiro. Sublime and perfectly described by Lonely Planet, it and the surrounding countryside, are, in my humble opìnion, heaven on earth. The Rio Cahabon winds through the region (even El Retiro) carving valleys and canyons that were made for hiking. So we did for a fair bit of the day, and nothing makes for a good hike like beginning and ending it with a dip in the aforementioned icy river.
I know I say this a lot, but God really does love this country. The landscape here isn´t the only charming thing, though: so too are its residents. Indeed, for most of our hike were were accompanied and dareIsay protected by an amiable stray dog we took to naming San Perro. (The people we met along the way were likewise friendly, if decidedly less loyal.) It seems to have even rubbed on on foreigners. The first night we met two wonderful Israelis - fitting, considering how Seth and I met) and spent this afternoon with another wonderful Dutch couple, Victorine and Nico.
With the two of them in tow, in fact, Seth and I went (on my friend German-cum-Nicaraguan friend Daniela´s half rememembered advice) to the nearby caves of Lanquin at sundown to see what can only be described as a bat exodus. It´s impossible to describe and I am still sans-pictures but know this: nothing compares to the feeling of thousands upon thousands of bats at once wizzing by your head as you and your companions cry out in every language they know!

* The ride wasn´t all a waste, however - the six-hour ride was easily made bearable by making the acquaintance of Hilda and Joris, a lovely Dutch couple who Seth and I inadvertantly introduced to the crudities of American humor... but that´s another story for another day.

8-8

2008-08-08T14:21:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was D-Day, as in ¨How Delight I am that Seth Finally Arrived¨ Day. (You can see why I abbreviate that.) Our complicated rendezvous went off without a hitch* and now our travels together begin in earnest.
The eight-hour bus ride from Guatemala City to Flores was unpleasant is uneventful (no sleep for us!) and even proceeded ahead of schedule. In fact, although Tikal is fully 77km from Flores, where we are staying the night, we were at the park well before 9am. And what a park it is! Although I have been fortunate enough to see at least half a dozen major Major ruins (amazing, that) Tikal is itself a world apart. Hidden deep in the jungle like Palenque but with the monumental architecture like Chitzen Itza and under visited like El Tajin, it has hands down become my favorite. We spent seven hours there, tired as we were from our overnight travel, and climbed as many of the great temples as we were allowed, but still did not see everything. Amazing, truly amazing.
This evening once again finds me (now us) in Flores, the first and thus far only city in Central America I´ve visited twice. It´s nice, I have to say, to be able to show Seth my ¨favorite swimming hole¨ or to point out a good restaurant, but its also strange. Fortunately tomorrow were off to more uncharted territory: Lanquin and Semuc Champey!

* Oh, and while waiting as the bys station I had the unusual pleasure of meeting an American expat who plays for the Belizean national soccer team. What a strange world!

8-7

2008-08-07T14:20:00.000-04:00

What a strange day. On a whim I decided to give myself a day in Guatemala City and I´m glad I did - but perhaps for all the wrong reasons! Guatemala City, to me, is what I once, long ago, expected Mexico City to be like (it was, instead, entirely diferrent and far better than I could have ever hoped), and by far the most cosmopolitan place I´ve been in ages. All that is besides the point, however. As Central America´s largest city it is also at the forefront of U.S. Globalization efforts. So, in addition to seeing the National Palace (which, being green, is I´m told, adorably nicknamed the ¨Great Guacamole¨ by locals) and passing by my first U.S. Embassy - seeing the eagle crest for the first time in six months made me feel intensely patriotic - I also went to a Wendy´s. In fact, I am there now, enjoying one of the best (and most expensive) meals I´ve had in weeks. Who knew my stomach was homesick for Chili and a Frosty?

PS Later there was Taco Bell and, I kid you not, it was the best taco I´ve had since leaving Mexico.

8-5

2008-08-05T14:19:00.000-04:00

If I´ve been keeping a poorer record than usual, it´s not entirely my fault. After all, in the last few days both my paper journal and writing pen have gone missing - so you see it couldn´t be helped. (I am, scandalously, even going so far as to write this all-important first draft in pencil!) Aside from these losses, the last few days have found me on the move again, from Antigua to Lake Atitlan opposing shores and the towns of Panajachel and San Pedro la Laguna. Both were lovely, in their ways, but as is often the case, as different as night and day. Panajachel, the traditional point-of-entry for Atitlan tourists is simultaneously a tourist hub and commercial port in miniscule, and I hended only one day to decide its dolí frantic pace wasn´t for me. I hended a bit more time in San Pedro to discover the same thing. Almost too tranquil, San Pedro is two towns in one: tradicional highland village (of shorts) and, entirely separate from that, a backpacker haven. In both cases its the kind of place where time stands still and people get stuck. Lord knows I almost did – tose Norweigan girls can be bewitching.* Others were less (more?) fortunate. Still, both were an interesting slice of life, and like so much of Guatemala, achingly beautiful. Indeed, there is a campaign afoot in both communities to have Lake Atitlan declare one of the Seven Wonders of the Natural World and they certainly have my vote.

PS Oh, and this bears repeating: every form of transportation I´ve used in Central America has officially broken down at least once, most recently (and notably) the tiny launcha I took across Lake Atitlan. No worries, though, all´s well that ends well and I love it here all the more for it!

* I´m looking at you here, Julie. :)

Nothing to see here, move along (to back-dated entries!)

2008-08-05T12:58:00.001-04:00

Please Note: As part of my on-going effort to keep a semi-daily account of my travels again, I just uploaded five days worth of entries, travels in both Guatemala and Honduras. Enjoy!

Movin´ On Up [to a deluxe apartment in the sky]

2008-08-03T12:55:00.000-04:00

How lovely it is to be traveling with people again! It seems misery loves company,* and six of us stranded in Copan Ruinas decided to try our hand for the greener pastures of Antigua – which is about as far removed from Honduras you can be in Central America. True, not every country can be a Mexico or a Guatemala, but Antigua is truly a world apart: unstuck in time, it is a gem of a city which, if overly touristic, is so with good reason. Indeed, here in the middle of Western Guatemala I am reminded not of Florida but of Florence. Better yet, it has the only Irish Pub in Guatemala and as two of my new traveling companions are [Northern] Irish, tonight is a night for Guinness.
In the event that I do not survive, remember me with a pint.

* How much worse I feel for those few who showed up as we were leaving!

This is not the kind of water therapy I was looking for!

2008-08-01T12:54:00.000-04:00

I should have taken the hint. After five sunny days in Guatemala, it began to rain as soon as I crossed the border into Honduras. Still, my destination, Copan Ruinas, one of the southernmost Maya settlements ever built, is only fifteen kilometers from the border with Guatemala (the cradle of Maya Civilization) and almost directly in my path eastwards to Guatemala. So, on paper at least, in made sense – here, however, practice and theory diverge. My first twelve hours in Honduras can be summed up in one word: rain. It rained and rained and rained. It rained so much that my moderately-overpriced hostel – as well as the rest of the city of Copan Ruinas – lost both electricity and water by the next morning. The electricity I can do without, but the water is a different story.* Fortunately ruins, by their very nature, need neither and I will say the ruins of Copan were worth the trip. Still, few can blame me if I elected to beat a hasty retreat back to Guatemala far sooner than I expected.

* There is perhaps nothing sadder than cooking Ramen with bottled water by candlelight.

A Swimmer’s Life for Me

2008-07-31T12:53:00.000-04:00

Ah, so where were we? Three days later, the homesickness has abated slightly and the cold considerable, thanks in no small part to some of the most exquisite swimming holes Guatemala has to offer. Get this: day 1 was off the dock of my waterfront hostel* in the aforementioned late Izabal, day 2 was in the shadow of a seventeenth-century Spanish Castillo De San Felipe, and day 3 – the crème de la crème, I think – was of the junction of a [bitterly cold ]mountain stream and a hot-waterfall. All we amazing but the last was simply one of a kind, so when I get the chance I’ll upload the photos. In the meantime, I am water-logged and well-rested, and ready for anything. Which is good, because tomorrow I set out for Honduras.

* Which ran only $2.75 a night, I might add

The irony of this kills me. Well, almost - my cold is doing the rest.

2008-07-28T12:52:00.000-04:00

After more than four months in Mexico, four weeks of travel and midway through my self-imposed odyssey, I find myself in a place that reminds me so much of Doctor’s Inlet, of home, that it’s almost overwhelming. Let me explain: after two lovely, if uneventful, days of moderately successful ¨water therapy¨ in Flores, I decided today to relocate south, to the largest of Guatemala’s lakes, Lago Izabal. Which is all well and good, but what I didn’t know before I arrived is that Lago Izabal has an outlet on the Caribbean Sea and is therefore the safest place in the region for boaters to wait out hurricane season. Thus, as I sit here, thousands of kilometers from home, I am nevertheless reminded intensely of it, surrounded as I am by [largely American] boaters of all stripes (and even jet skis!) and enjoying a view not unlike that of my dock at home. So, given all that, and given my cold, which has steadily worsened,* as well as a long-delayed bout of homesickness that has set in with Kim and Kristen gone, I have to say, as sad as it is, today I miss home more than ever.

* More water therapy is clearly needed.

¡Bienvenidos a Guatemala!

2008-07-26T12:49:00.000-04:00

With my Belizean master plan in ruins and what feels like a cold coming on,* I have decided to flee the country for [Guatemala’s] greener pastures. The plan is as follows: two weeks of ¨immersion therapy¨ by way of puddle jumping through Guatemala’s greatest lakes. After three months in the desert and a bathing suit that is simply crying out to be used, I have to say the idea sounds wonderful to me.

First stop: Flores and Lago Petén Itzá!

* How bizarre that, the kindness of its people not withstanding, three days in Belize seems to set to do what four months in Mexico could not: get me sick.

Nothing to see here, move along (to back-dated entries!)

2008-07-25T17:07:00.003-04:00

Please Note: I am now working to keep a semi-daily account of my travels again, but can only post sporadically. As a result, I just uploaded five days worth of entries, covering my exit from Mexico through to my entry to Guatemala.

A Better Side of Belize

2008-07-24T17:05:00.001-04:00

Forget the beaches, the jungles, and the ruins: Belize’s people are its star attraction. A bizarre conglomeration of indigenous Maya, Caribbean Africans, British settlers, and Chinese grocers* in my limited experience each and every one of them is a friendly as the day us long. So here´s my way of thanking (and remembering):

• Melva, who walked with my from the bus stop to the hostel because she was sure I wouldn’t be able to find my way [in the end she was right: I wouldn’t]
• Daniel the ferryman who ferried me, alone, across the Mopan river so I wouldn’t have to walk the extra mile and a half to the Mayan ruins at Xunantunich
• Philip, Michael, and Jan, a couple of locales I met at the swimming hole in Guanacaste Park near Roaring Creek
• The unnamed man who gave me a free lift in the back of his truck to the Belize-Guatemala Border. [Consider that my first and hopefully only experience with what was inadvertent hitchhiking].
I can honestly say that these are some of the nicest people on earth and I´ll be sorry to see them go. Still, their country, beautiful though it may be, is much to expensive for little ol´ me so Guatemala here we come!

*If you think the United States in the midst of a linguistic identity crisis, you should come on down to Belize, where everyone tries to speak the official English when necessary but normally uses some combination of it, Creole, Spanish, and Chinese!

Moving on, again...

2008-07-23T17:02:00.001-04:00

What a difference a day makes! My first impression of Belize was like so many of my ¨Mexican¨ impressions: ¨God loves this country. Verdant and bountiful, it’s a far cry from the deserts of Monterrey. Still, even if God loves Belize, I I found its City wanting. No, wanting isn’t the right word: a farce is more like it. Things were never so complicated in Mexico, even when (especially when?) I didn’t speak the language. Still, even if the people in Belize City were in equal parts friendly and unsavoury* the limitations of my budget forced me to move on this morning. Which brings me to Hillview, in the Cayo district, simultaneously on the other side of the country and only three hours away. A little internet searching found the only hostel in the region – the ¨Falconview Back Pack Adventure Hostel¨ - which I later showed up to unannounced and am the only guest. What a difference a day makes. The owners, Ray (an American expat who first came to Belize when it was still British Honduras in 1959 and Silvia (who us actually Colombian and when to the University of South Florida of all places), are as charming as their hostel – which is saying something. So a miserably night in Belize City notwithstanding, things are looking up.

* Which, while normally a winning combination, was of unwieldy portions in Belize.

In Belize

2008-07-22T17:01:00.002-04:00

So Chetumal has resolved itself of its own accord, and with it Mexico. How strange it is to say, but I feel like I’m leaving home all over again (even if I did leave what passes for my home in Mexico weeks ago). Still, after all my [incredibly fortunate] travels, Mexico is the country I was, uninterruptedly, in the longest. So, again, it’s strange to be going through another border cross and also bittersweet because I truly loved it there. I miss it already.
Still, the open road is calling my name and – surprisingly – its in English. I’m on the road now, halfway between Chetumal and Belize City, near Orange Walk Town – and it just feels strange to see so much English. To speak it, too, as the chicken bus I’m riding in has more English-speakers than not. A bizarre welcome to Belize, but a welcome nonetheless.

Next Bus to Belize, please!

2008-07-22T11:43:00.002-04:00

This is one of those ¨official¨ notices that I´m so fond of: as of today, if all goes according to plan, I´ll be out of Mexico and into the rest of the world (which starts with Belize, of all places...). So right, there´s that - I´m off!

{Mexico I´m going to miss you!}

La Frontera!

2008-07-21T19:58:00.003-04:00

Okay, so here’s the skinny: I left Kristin (as planned) in Tulum and headed south for the border with Belize by way of Chetumal, a large-ish city of 150,000 (huge for Yucateco standards) but with a squarely small-town vibe. Stupidly I had no reservation here (as per usual, but now I am alone and cellphoneless) but it doesn´t seem to have mattered: I went to the first hotel listed in my guide – Villa Deportiva – which, as the name suggests, in near a sports academy and as near as I can figure is run by a nurse. A very hospitable nurse at that . MXN$50 (or US$5) later, I am sitting on the edge of the ocean and two countries – so far so good.

Letter Home

2008-07-17T15:17:00.001-04:00

This is the best approximation I can present of the current state of Frankel Affairs, in its entirely, from a letter home:

"I've been on the road for a few weeks now - Kim, sadly, is already on
her way back to the States I believe - but my frantic pace has finally
eased up long enough to sit down and right this letter. Kristin,
needless to say, is relieved to have the break. ^^ Things are almost
exactly as they should be: after a few wonderful days with Kim and her
friend Amy in Mexico City and Oaxaca [both of which were spectacular
in so many ways], Kristin and I have finally made it the point in my
journey which brings us closest to Florida - the Yucatan. So close and
yet so far. I'm on the northwestern side of the Peninsula, in the
small town of Celestun with some friends who live right on the beach.
It's almost idyllic: although so many things have changed since
leaving Monterrey (even the language; I hear more Mayan words every
day), the beer is still cold and the beach is gorgeous. Consistency is
nice, in that regard. It's nice to have the break, to be honest, to
sit back and reflect, to digest rather than experience for a few days.
The ruins as Palenque in the state of Chiapas were beautiful, for
example, but in many ways its only now, out of the heat and in
retrospect, that I can begin to truly appreciate it. Unfortunately,
I'm doing a lot my reminisces by way of memory because some theft
issues have left me without my laptop, cellphone, or camera. Don't
worry, I am perfectly fine, they were simply lifted from my bag when
it was out of my possession and I'm left with little recourse but, of
everything it's the photos I miss most of all. Even now, only a day
after the fact, I'm not angry, just disappointed and a little sad.
They were my lifelines back home and now I feel a little more adrift
that ever. I'll be replacing them when I can, so in the long run I
think little will be changing, so there we are: I am, if anything,
only temporarily at sea. Bad news aside, Mexico is amazing and perhaps
the reason I'm dealing with everything so well. Indeed, my classes are
over, the grades in, and with a little bit of paperwork I'll have my
Master's in December so, as I work my way south, everything is as it
should be in that respect, too. It's amazing, really. I've seen so
much already and fallen so much in love with this country (thieves
aside) that the distance between here and Costa Rica inspires far more
eagerness than trepidation."

So that's it. That's where things are. Sadly I have no exciting pictures or even good stories* for you today, but wherever you are I hope all is well.

* For that, I think, you have to be the one buying the beer... ^^

Notes from the Underground

2008-07-13T15:58:00.003-04:00

Okay, I'll be the first to admit that it is harder to stay in touch on the road than I thought. Mostly, I think, because my "grand vision" does not include time in Internet Cafes.* Still, here I am, alive and well in San Cristobal de las Casas, approximately halfway through my Southern Mexico Odyssey. One day I may transcribe my unintelligible notes of the last few weeks, but for now you'll have to live with this: I love this country. I mean, I love my country, too, but Mexico stands apart. Mexico City, Tlaxcala, and Oaxaca were at all times better than I could have ever imagined** and the rest of the trip is gearing up to be more of the "same".

By way of farewell - is as much as this was ever a hello - let me explain the above picture, one of the most recent of the I've taken on the road. On Friday Kristin an I went hiking in the Sierra Norte of Oaxaca, in the small village of Cuajimoloyas, and I discovered that even after four months in Mexico, the country still has a few surprises for me. Stunningly beautiful, the area has pine forests competing with lupines, agaves and cacti competing for space - almost as though all of Mexico's biodiversity came together at 3000 meters.

More, as always, later, but I hope all is a well with you as it is with me.

* Today is something of an exception, clearly.
** I mean, if not Oaxaca where else can you see a political protest and a religious parade on the same day in the same square?

On the Road

2008-06-30T12:40:00.002-04:00

Okay, so the road ahead of me may not look quite like this, but I could think of few better roadtrip films that Thelma and Louise.* That have been said, this is my official notice to the world: I'm on hiatus (from my hiatus). I'll keep in touch as much as possible and update when I can, but as of today I'm on a whole new trajectory.

* Here's hoping my own personal travels end better than theirs, clearly!

My word, it really is a global village...

2008-06-27T20:51:00.005-04:00

... and a very, very strange village at that.
Allow me to (try and) explain. I just received two of the most disparate messages possible within five minutes of each other and both of them solely because I'm living in Monterrey. Here's the first one:

(I'm sure Nigeria is glad to be off the hook here, actually, so that's perhaps some kind of progress...)

But, as if presumably fraudulent Israelis trying to sell me on undoubtedly fraudulent business schemes wasn't enough, I then received this:

No, your eyes didn't deceive you: in less than twenty-four hours Electric Light Orchestra will be here in Monterrey.

In 2008, not 1978.

Good heavens, what is the Internet doing to the world?

Plans, or Quo Vadimus?

2008-06-25T19:18:00.002-04:00

I feel this entry works better with [techno] musical accompaniment, so before we get carried away click below and read on...

Good. Having done that, let me say this: I am nothing if not predictable. Music aside, that, in fact, is the whole point of this post: faced with the unknown, I plan my little heart out. So now that classes are nearly over and I'm hitting the road with - as The Beatles would say - a little help from my friends I've done exactly that.

Without going into too many specifics, here's the flightplan:

Mexico
With Kim, Kristin, and Amy

Mexico City, D.F.
Tlaxcala
[Teotihuacán!]
Oaxaca City, Oaxaca
[Monte Alban!]
Puerto Arista, Chiapas
San Cristobal de Las Casas, Chiapas
[Palenque!]
Merida, Yucatan
[Chitzen Itza!]
Cancun, Quintana Roo
Chetumal, Quintana Roo

Central America
With Sol, Seth, and company

Belize City, Belize
San Ignacio, Belize
Flores [Tikal], Guatemala
Rio Dulce, Guatemala
Antigua, Guatemala
La Ruta de las Flores, El Salvador
Alegria and Berlin, El Salvador
Gulf of Fonseca, Honduras
Granada, Nicaragua
Isla Ometepe, Nicaragua
San Jose, Costa Rica
Liberia, Costa Rica

I couldn't be more excited if I tried.

How can you go off track without a track?

2008-06-24T21:27:00.001-04:00

I realized something wonderfully simple last night while talking to my friend Jenny: in less than a week I'll be done with my classes. I'll still have a few months before my Master's processes but, come July, the formal "education" portion of my life will be over. That means from here on out I get to define success - and I have some strangely wonderful rubrics, let me tell you.

I couldn't be less afraid afraid to tell you I'm just getting started

There's more than one border in the world...

2008-06-24T12:29:00.000-04:00

Today, after ten weeks and at least as many trip trips to the local immigration office, I finally received my FM3 student visa today. I am, of course, ridiculously pleased because this allows me to stay in Mexico (if I so chose, which in fact I don't for reasons to be explained in slightly more detail below) until at least December. More importantly, it means that EGADE will release my transcripts to UF and I will, after some no doubt labyrinthine and complicate process, graduate with my Master's. This is especially fortunate because I'm closing in on what may be my last week of classes ever, but in truth that's not the point of this post.

This is: On the very day I received my visa, 21 Central American migrant workers were found by the Mexican equivalent of the INS not five kilometers from my apartment. 21 men who had nothing in their home countries but now have even less. I've been thinking about this unfortunate "coincidence" ever since and I find it almost impossible to describe how this makes me feel. Well, actually, that's not completely true; I know exactly how I feel even if I can't quite explain myself. I feel, of course, incredibly fortunate to have been born in the United States. I feel, too, for Mexico a strange sense of shame - a country whose own people flee north but which persecutes those that do the same - and pride - a country whose hard-won stability and relative prosperity mean that people flee not only from it but to it. Lastly, I feel even more now that this kind of thing should never have to happen.

The salient point is this: I chose to leave my home but no one should have to leave theirs and I want to spend as much of my life working to giving people the kinds of choices, the kinds of options, I have.

A tourist in my temporary home

2008-06-21T12:46:00.004-04:00

Monterrey has always occupied a strange place in my mind. Because I more or less live here I've never really taken the time to explore it properly. I think the same thing is true of every placed I've ever lived, actually. Instead of being a destination they have always been way stations on the way to other things. The fact that I'm leaving so soon, though, had made me want to make up for "lost" time. (Especially since I haven't actually hit the road in a couple of weeks and my wanderlust is already starting to kick in.) So recently I decided to stop being a resident and start being a tourist again and it has reminded me just how lovely this city really is. Frankly, as sad as it is to say and as wonderful as the rest of Mexico has been and no doubt will be, I'm sorry that more of you won't have a chance to see it with me.

Plans, or what happens if you make someone with ADHD study for too long.

2008-06-12T19:14:00.001-04:00

That picture could not be more perfect – changes just keep happening. It’s almost as if things are beginning to happen of their own free will and, frankly, the possibility thrills me.

I did the math today and, as hard as it is to believe, my time in Monterrey is nearly over. Like I mentioned before I am already knee-deep in final projects and I have my final exams all scheduled. My last anything for EGADE is June 30th at 2pm. I think I would be a little more sad about this if I didn't have so much else on the horizon.

Indeed, that horizon is chock-full of things far more exciting than anything related to my Master's:

First, my sister Kim and her friend Amy are flying into Mexico D.F. the day after my last final - sleep is for the weak - and my dear friend Kristin a few days after that. Together we'll explore a large part of the Mexico I haven't gotten to see yet, from D.F. to Oaxaca, to Chiapas and beyond.

Then comes the part that is truly under my complete control but as the same time forming itself of its own volition: from the Yucatan I'll head still further south, from Belize to Costa Rica. Maybe I'll even hit the Panama Canal, but who knows? [That's what makes this all so exhilarating!] Clearly this part of the plan is as of yet vastly underdeveloped, but it won't always be and when I know so will you.