Vikings

Went to my dad's to see the fam and watch the MNF game. Terrible first half, awesome second half. Horrible judgment by Adrian Peterson in overtime. He fumbled. Vikings lost. 1-3 in the last 4 games. Really dropping that cherry on the whipped cream that was this season. NOT.

About a Week

Decided the most memorable way to experience the holidays would be to make it home and surprise the majority of my family. The only people that knew where my parents. Made the rest of the women in the family cry at the sight of me. Even with the beard, I'm a more charming presence than I give myself credit for (doubtful). So Christmas was wonderful, my father and his brood were in Arizona visiting more family. It was nice not having to split up the day, and the trip to AZ would have been a little much after the journey I just concluded. Not the young whipper snapper I once was. Still a whipper snapper, just not the same. As I've previously states, I find myself in the business of making lasting memories. This surprise trip home was one of the most memorable experiences of my life thus far. I wouldn't trade it for anything (although I began plotting the next departure in my head before I got on my flight back here).

I deal with this duality within myself. I'm sure most people who keep in touch with themselves do. Even those that don't. On one hand, I know myself to be the sweet, kind, loving, honest, and overall positive character who would sacrifice the world for any loved one. On the other, I'm of the more selfish, ugly variety. Over the past four months, this side has been heavily suppressed. Only emerging when the drink flows a little too strong, even then it hasn't been so bad, just messy with a dash of innocence and unfamiliarity. Now I'm home. My old tendencies and habits are lurking in the back of my psyche waiting to reattach themselves to me. Some will succeed, others, hopefully not. Some may make brief appearances only to be cast back into the shadows. It is my job as the character I know myself to be (the first description) to handle them. Sometimes the bad makes me want to be better. Other times the bad makes me glad I'm not so good. I love who I am, I love who I can be, and I love doing things my way. Just need to be sure that "my way" is the way I want, and not the way that is easiest.

Those Things

Time is priceless. So are memories. Both are easily lost. An applicable Townes Van Zandt lyric from "To Live is to Fly" I love: "Livings mostly wasting time, and I waste my share of mine, but it never feels too good, so let's don't take too long". Wasting time is good, sometimes even great. It's not for everyone, especially those hellbent on being productive. When I say "wasted" time, I mean time devoted to doing nothing. It's not really wasted if its enjoyed, somewhat meaningful, and deliberate. Too much of anything doesn't feel so good, and I'd say I've had a bit too much as of late. It's that balance issue.

I find myself in the business of making lasting memories. Ones not remotely possible to forget. I also find myself in the business of perfect time allocation.

No Rush

Valparaiso is as wonderful a place as I have ever been in my life. If you couldn't tell from the mannequin, this city has no shortage of character. Took a walking tour yesterday of the upper barrios which lead us to some viewpoints overlooking the harbor and clear across the expansive bay to the beaches of Viña del Mar. Last night, enjoyed a beer in a 100 year old bar and walked around the lower part of the city a little more.

Today, my Swiss buddy Jonas and I hopped aboard an ambiguously destined bus towards the aforementioned beach town. Met a very friendly and charming old man with about as many teeth as I have fingers (8-10 depending on your classification and/or inclusion of opposable thumbs). After a solid ten minutes of one-way communication, I finally spoke, asking if the bus was going to get close to the beach at any point (¿El bus va a mas cerca de la playa?). In typical fashion, I happened to voice my pregunta at the precise moment, and he told me to get off at the next block and hang a left. Side note: I have become a smiling and nodding professional. I have some innate ability to act as though I completely understand anything anyone is telling me, no matter what foreign tongue. I probably come off as moronic, fine with me. In Santiago, a Brazilian staying at the same hostel latched himself to me, because he thought I was the only one who understood him. All I did was stay mute, nod, smile, and occasionally laugh. For three days he would approach me at random, ramble in his cryptic, mushy Portu-Spanish, laugh, and I would laugh back. It was an intriguing and brief relationship that kept me and everyone else who witnessed very amused.

Anyway, spent a few hours on the beach. Kept myself free of sun pain, besides a killer burn on the top of my head (always forget short blond hair leaves my scalp very susceptible to ultraviolet violence). Trip back to Valpo was much quicker and easier. Enjoyed an "ice" (ice cream) with Jonas. He's learned English in 5 months of traveling, his English being far superior to my Spanish, but some of his words and phrasing for things are absolutely hilarious. We keep each other entertained.

Mustached Mannequin

Feeling better after a few days of rest and relaxation. Wandered the desolate streets of Santiago over the weekend. Attempted venturing to a bar on Saturday night only to find that all restaurants and bars were closing early for the election. Everything finally opened back up Monday morning, just in time for my departure. I thought being in a capital city on election day would be interesting. Not quite. Managed to stream the Viking game over the WiFi in the hostel, so at least I found a way to entertain myself on Sunday. Met a swiss traveler named Jonas in Santiago, who was also to heading to Valparaiso today. We bussed it together, checked into a hostel, and walked around a bit. Very interesting place sporadically covered in unique tags and graffiti. Rich history. Unfortunately, the beach is not walking distance away. Probably head to a new hostel near the beach in the next town over on Wednesday until the weekend.

On the stroll through the city today, I came across and odd mannequin in the window of one of the shops. Unlike any mannequin I have ever set my eyes on. He was mustached. Made my day, if not week, if not trip. A subtlety in the world of clothing display I never had the presence of mind to imagine. I'm surprised my cognitive senses even allowed me to comprehend what I was seeing. A mustached mannequin. What a treat.

Still not sure what my upcoming traveling plans are. Seems to be a theme of my South American experience. No plan has been the plan from the get go and I'm sticking with it until the bitter end whether I or anyone else likes it or not

Crossroads and the Double-Wicked Candle

Wednesday and Thursday were long days. Departed Mar del Plata in the early afternoon. Arrived in Buenos Aires just in time to hop aboard an overnight bus to Santiago, Chile with a transfer in Mendoza. Bus ride was non eventful for the most part besides a demonstration in the middle of the road on the way into the Andes from Mendoza. A group of hospital protestors decided igniting a bonfire and pounding on drums would be a grand gesture for their cause. It worked, well at least their effort to disable the road. Not sure about their overlying goal. I would assume it did nothing to help that cause. I would also assume blockading a main arterial in the area would prevent anyone from receiving emergency medical treatment, which is what their cause relates to in the end. Whatever their motives, heavy rain came, put out their fire, and their will to carry on. The ride through the Andes was beautiful when I mustered up the energy to open my eyes and gaze out the window. Not a lot of color, but plenty of weather worn peaks.

Arrived in Santiago three hours after we were scheduled. Because of the fact I darted directly to Chile, I didn't have the opportunity to properly prepare myself for arrival in my destination. Given this, I had no hostel in mind, no money, and no idea what I was going to do. Fortunately, there was a kind gentlemen who took me to five different ATMs before one of them would dispense me funds. He then steered me towards a hostel. Being unaware of the exchange rate, I accidentally tipped him the equivalent of $20 US. Can't say he didn't deserve it.

Enter crossroads. After the bus journey, I haven't felt good, I've developed a rash on my wrists, fingers, and palms of my hands, and been presented with some kind of stomach ailment (potentially from the water, although everyone has told me it is fine to drink) which allows me a window of 15-45 minutes of free roaming time before the proper amenities are required. In simple terms, I'm burnt out and I can't even take the chance to explore this city without a fresh pair of drawers on my person. I have 32 more days until my scheduled departure from Lima. Seven of these nights will involve long-distance bus travel. Leaving me 25 lonely nights in hostels. The fact that I'm even counting the days at this point leads me to believe its time for me to pack up my excessive baggage and head for home earlier than anticipated.

I am torn in this decision. My gut, mind, and heart are all in different places. A significant goal in my life is to see all that I am able. In this category, I am already far ahead of the curve. An even more significant goal is to create and maintain balance within my soul. So far on this trip, from September until today, there have been wonderfully balanced moments and days. Yet, for the most part, the entire experience has been askew. I believe this has caught up to me given my present state of discomfort and lack of motivation. Yesterday my mindset changed four different times. I awoke this morning back at square one. I know it would be a rewarding experience no matter how marvelous or miserable. This leads me to ponder, is the reward worth the cost? It's not a matter of whether I think I can do it or not. I know I can. It's a matter of do I really want to? Do I really need to? This trip has already altered my spirit in ways I surely haven't yet reflected upon.

Yesterday, I had my first meaningful conversation in Spanish with an Ecuadorian bunkmate at the hostel. I found myself enjoying the conversation, and in its culmination, we agreed and emphasized that love and family are by far the most important things in the development of a person. Not necessarily to the degree at which either are positive factors, but that they are the most important factors nonetheless. Doesn't matter if an individual has a good family, a bad family, or no family at all. Same with love. The experience of love or no love, it still has a tremendous effect on one's being. I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation in my terrible spanish, and would love for more similar encounters. Sadly, its nearly been four months and that was a first.

Here I am, still no ground covered. As usual my thoughts come in circles, never leading me anywhere except further into the issue. At this point, its a matter of where I am three days from now. Am I feeling better? Are my spirits and motivation up for it? Am I still counting down the days? My drive for balance and travel are never going to go away as long as my lungs expand, my heart pumps, and my synapses keep on a firing. So which one wins out here?

False Alarm

Resurrection is a beautiful thing to witness. After a 24 hour plus absence of major vital signs, my computer powered up. Took an extra long time getting to my desktop screen, but it seems to be working fine. Taking off on my own tomorrow for the remaining 5 weeks of my expedition.

Out of Order

Busted my laptop yesterday. Posts will be few and far between until I get back stateside and assess the situation in January. By that time I should have plenty to write about...

Use(less)ful Information

Having a hard time concentrating on anything today. Been sleeping more than usual since arriving at the beach town I currently find myself in. Could be the cold weather, the heavy blanket, or the fact that I haven't slept in such perfect conditions since departing North America. Whatever it may be, as enjoyable as oversleeping is, its not helping with my focus issues.

Some complications to the travel plans. Was banking on a cheap flight from Santiago to the border of Chile and Peru. Not going to happen. This means one of two things: I either lose time traveling in Peru or leave Argentina a handful of days earlier. I think I'm leaning towards leaving a bit earlier, getting to Santiago by this upcoming week's end, and having as close to 3 weeks in Peru as possible after some apparent barely bearable bus trips up the Chilean coast.

I'm eager to spend some time on my own. If it hasn't been made apparent in my writings (and although I may not be), I often feel the odd man out. Its a state of mind, a state of existence, and an intuition I've possessed since infancy, regardless of the situation. I love friends and I love spending time with people, but if I learned anything from my college living experiences, its that I don't do the mid-to-long-term peer group living situations very well. I enjoy it thoroughly and somewhat excessively for a short period of time, and then it ceases to agree with me once the novelty of the arrangement has worn out. I've also grown accustomed to feeling as though I'm in it wherever I am for the long haul. Far too comfortable with letting time and opportunities slip through the cracks. I'm good at doing what I want to do and not what others would have me do, yet I find myself putting off the things I want to do when in the back of my mind I know there is limited time for these things to be done. Again, something I'm far too familiar with, and for the most part content with. If they were opportunities I felt a strong desire to take advantage of then I would. I rarely subject myself to half-hearted attempts at anything now that my prerequisites for the rest of my life have been fulfilled (formal education). Maybe its nothing to concern myself with after all.

Because there is no internet, or comfortable furniture in the residence, I've taken up to watching movies on my computer on my mattress on the floor. Watched The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly and Hang 'Em High over the past couple of days. I'd never seen Hang 'Em High before, enjoyed it, but not nearly as much as that other one. That other one is probably one of my favorite films of all time (I must have at least 25-50 of those).

Song that popped into my head when the reality of leaving Buenos Aires sunk in. Sad to Know (You're Leaving) by Gregory Isaacs. Solid farewell tune, fairly sentimental, yet concise and straightforward. Two entities parting ways with no hard feelings and a hefty amount of optimism. Isaacs is one of my favorite reggae vocalists. None of the vocal theatrics so common to the reggae vein in his delivery. I enjoy theatrics, but his voice and presentation is perfect for his songs and lyrics. Aside from the song above, If I Don't Have You is a beautiful beautiful beautiful love song. Confirm Reservation and Cool Down the Pace are another couple of my favorites from Mr. Isaacs.

Another song thats been in and out of my head the past couple of weeks. Psychotic Girl by The Black Keys. They've been around for the past decade. Basic, bluesy, 2-piece indie rock outfit. I got the chance to see them at Austin City Limits music festival in 2008. I remember enjoying the performance, although wishing the whole time I could've been behind the kit. Drummer just wasn't doing it for me, and sadly enough, that just so happens to be what I base my appreciation of live bands on.

On a side note, today, December 5th, 2009 is the 76th anniversary of the ratification of the 21st Amendment to our U.S. Constitution, which repealed the 18th Amendment calling for nationwide Prohibition that took place from 1919-1933. Have a toast and beverage to freedom on this fine day. Thank you to my high school U.S. history project and wikipedia, although I did pull the date from the abyss of use(less)ful information that is my mind.

Making Trails

Left Buenos Aires on Tuesday the 1^st. Short 5 hour bus journey south to Mar del Plata. Going to be here for 10 more days then to Santiago, Chile via Buenos Aires and Mendoza. Goodbyes are always difficult. Whether its people, places, or events doesn’t matter. They all linger, some shorter, some longer. I know I’ll have both in relation to my stay in BA.

My last week in the city I felt somewhat strained from myself. Could have been the fact that I knew I was leaving. Also began feeling under the weather as the weekend rolled through. Hard to tell if its all psychological or purely physical, most likely a little of both. Regardless, mustered up the courage and energy to watch the Vikings on Sunday afternoon before going to see Manu Chao. A great concert, even if I didn’t understand why the same chant persisted throughout the 3-4 hour performance. Monday, attended my final La Bomba de Tiempo show, making it 5 or 6 over the course of 3 months. It was exactly what I wanted it to be. I’m going to miss it, the Monday night getaway.

It’s strange living on the verge of adventure. I don’t feel like a fit in the mold any longer. I found myself in the new house alone after cooking hot dogs. Not sure where they went while I was cooking, but here I am writing. The rest of the guys are here for the month, trying to put together their own plans and priorities. I’m here killing time, resting up, and planning the remaining 5 weeks of travel. I don’t mean to be a burden, but I get a constant feeling that I am. The guy who has everything and nothing figured out all at once. Living day to day, without much (visible) worry for the future. It’s lonely, but that’s an entirely different subject I’ve reserved for an entirely different entry.

My time in the city was unique. New thoughts, experiences, and friends. Some will be retained, many lost. Not to say lost forever. My mind is a million miles wide, it’s a tough paddling job, but everything is there. The ones I cherish most reside but a few strokes from my island, the rest of the waters are unchartered, and some dangerous to navigate, but it’s all there.

No Internet in the new place. Less distraction, but in turn less communication. No couches or lounge chairs either. It’s a tiny little house a few blocks from the beach. The weather has been chilly and rainy since I arrived 2 days ago. Hopefully I’ll be able to get some beach time in before its time to leave.

Immersion Diversion

I was told by a close friend in recent weeks, that he could imagine me thriving creatively in an artist town, colony, whatever. I'm aware his observation was a passing one, yet it may very well be true, although I don't think I would ever subject myself to such an environment. I am far too big a fan of diversity. Nevertheless, his comment got me thinking.

Other than the physical, complete immersion is something I have never experienced. Right now I am physically immersed in a foreign land, but I have done little to immerse myself in its ways. Do I fear that if I do completely immerse myself I will lose part of myself in the process? I don't think so. Would it be an uncomfortable process? Most definitely. I've been told countless times, that in order to learn a new language, one must immerse themselves in a place where that language is spoken. That has always seemed a little vague. Does one need to focus on the language, the culture, or both. As far as I can tell, dialects vary from region to region along with culture, so in theory culture isn't as much a part of it. Yet in order to gain a complete grasp of any given dialect, the culture is as imperative as the language itself. I don't mean to focus on language, but I found it an obvious parallel between my friend's comment and the here and now.

As I said, I'm not afraid of making a commitment, as much as I am of buying into it. I wouldn't buy into the idea of a settlement devoted to creative pursuits at this point in my life, because being surrounded by a blend of humanities and practices is key for my sanity and appreciation for life. Seclusion would rob myself of the experiences I draw from and use in evolving my own person. So how would there be any opportunity to thrive? I already spend a great deal of time inside my own head. I need the complexities of everyday society to distract myself from myself.

Some Things

It's been a while. Little more than a week. Happy Thanksgiving. This past week hasn't included much. Probably why I haven't felt too inclined to write anything. Had a ridiculous Friday, which lead the way for a lazy weekend. Went to Uruguay, specifically Montevideo, on Monday to renew the tourist visa and check out the town. Many similarities to Buenos Aires, aesthetically. You could probably guess it is much smaller, but what I found to be interesting was the wear on many of the buildings near the water in the port. Spectacular real estate. I would imagine at one time it was a very beautiful place in the sense that it was happy, energetic, and a place most people desired to invest in. It is still very beautiful, albeit in a sad, decrepit way. Nice trading one city for another, even for 36 hours.

Anyway, some things have come to mind that I've intended to expand upon using this platform that I just haven't due to no excuses whatsoever. I've been lazy, unmotivated, and maybe a little too comfortable in avoiding myself. Whatever it may be, I'm tired of it. Back to rambling.

I have found, in my time as a human being, taking care of one's whole self is quite an undertaking. There are so many elements to the entire person that when too much attention is paid to one aspect, others go by the wayside. Nothing is worse than ignoring everything. I tried that for a year, well at least part of a year. About halfway through I came to some realization that I wasn't taking care of myself. I began to delve into the mental and emotional elements of my person, all the while still ignoring the bright, flashing sign that said YOU'RE AN IDIOT, PAY ATTENTION! After a few months of succumbing to those blinders I finally came to. Now I find myself in the present, six months removed from the flashing sign. Many permanent (hopefully) changes to my psyche have taken place, and my one desired destination is balance. I've begun to really take care of myself as far as physical health is concerned. The atrocious diet is difficult to avoid in my current culinary environment (eating cheap equals subpar nutritional value). I have been going through with my appropriate rehabilitation exercises for the ankles and shoulders, and they are beginning to make me feel like a man with new ankles and shoulders. It's incredible. I don't know why I never listened to my doctors or physical therapists to begin with. Like all things, listening takes time. I didn't even listen to myself for the year after school ended. Once I started listening to myself, I in turn began listening to others who seemed to know what they were talking about in respect to my well being. Who knows, maybe a consistent and high-level work ethic is next?

Song that periodically gets stuck in my head and I find myself singing out of the blue: Solidarity by Black Uhuru. I've never seen this video before. Indescribable. Magnificent maybe?

Season finale of Curb Your Enthusiasm was great. Being unable to witness the Vikings dismantle the Seahawks due to a late arrival at the bar was not.

More things to come...

Din Din, Zoo, and Injury Update

Tonight's dinner: bife de chorizo (top sirloin), grilled onions, baguette, and tomato, avocado, and onion salad all for 13 pesos (between $3-$4 US). Was so excited to devour the feast I had created that I only had the wherewithal to document it halfway through consumption. Probably the best meal I've made for myself thus far.

On a side note, today's activities included a trip to the zoo, where I was delighted to see all sorts of little creatures wandering about the park. Never quite got the scoop on what the names of these various animals were. One such creature resembled a large, semi-aquatic rat, fully-equipped with a disgustingly long rodent tail. Another looked like a small deer with a rabbit's head. The rest of the free-roaming creature population was composed of various birds, unless some other intriguingly unfamiliar organisms lurked in the shadows. Some other zoo highlights included urination of the rhinos (fire-hose force and capacity), unsightly baby baboons and their bright red behinds, and some kind of hairless anteater-type creature that I assume contracted an illness which resulted in full body hair loss (grotesque).

Also, my foot seems to be fully healed after only five days. Way to go foot!

Injury Report

It's been quite the action-packed week. Monday night I attended La Bomba de Tiempo once again. Awesome performance. They had a guest appearance by a guy who first did a solo playing percussion all over his body, which was pretty amazing, and then was joined by the rest of the troupe while he played what seemed to be a PVC pipe xylophone of sorts with flip flops. Danced myself silly. Tuesday, I visited the Museo Xul Solar (2 different links). One of the most intricately designed buildings I've ever stepped foot in interiorly. Fascinating man who made fascinating works. Thursday evening, I was accompanied by Brian and Matt to the bar where we witnessed the 49ers take down the Bears and consumed some beverages. On the way home we decided to make a pit stop in Burger King. After placing my order I decided to use the restroom which was up a flight of stairs. On my ascent, I tripped on a stair and sprained my foot. Luckily it wasn't my ankle, yet had it been my ankle I'm sure it would've healed by now. It was swollen for a couple of days, but I think it should be back to full ability in a couple more. Friday night consisted of a housewarming party thrown by a couple of friends. Haven't been surrounded by that many US citizens since I left the country. Saturday was kept to a minimum, and we treated ourselves to the most delicious pizza I've had down here yet. Today I went to the other bar that plays NFL to watch the Vikings victory over the Lions. Just so happened they were offering a special brunch menu. Delighted to inform all of you that I devoured some delicious pancakes. A real treat.

Happy Days

My entire life has been dictated by weekly points of interest. While this matter of fact has not changed, it has been vaguely altered as of late.

From age 2 until 21 I was in school. Monday was the beginning, and Friday was the end. In the space between these bookmarks, were lessons learned and works accomplished. The weekend was, is, and always will be the elusive two-day marathon of fun, imagination, and unfulfilled aspirations that just doesn't manage to fit in with those other five days. Throughout the college experience, the weeks and weekends oftentimes became entangled in a lush labyrinth that could only be deciphered successfully through a use of extreme organization and power of the will. When my schooling was said to be done and finished, I was told it was time to enter the working world. Upon entering this "world", I was not surprised to see that weekly life reverted back to the way it was in early childhood (minus the every-other-weekend shuffle that so many children of divorce grow accustomed to), where the weekend meant absolute freedom.

Fast forward 6 months to my current and very temporary life of unemployment, travel, and leisure. There is a lyric that comes to mind when mulling this over, it goes: "Funny thing about weekends when you're unemployed. They don't mean quite so much." (Primus, "Spaghetti Western"). Not true. Well kind of. If I were still at home this would most likely be a spot on observation. However, I am not at home, and the weekends still hold a mysticism I can't quite put a finger on. They are the days in which I feel no guilt over wasted time, and there is always something to look forward to. At this point, I would imagine some of you are thinking to yourselves "well hey, isn't Ellery just living one giant weekend right now?" The answer to this question can be found in the inviting patch of gray which lies between the realms of maybe and probably. After some brief reflection upon my experience, I have concluded that it requires the effort and skill of any part-time job in keeping myself entertained meaningless day after meaningless day. A part-time job is no vacation, and being a somewhat disputed veteran of such occupations, from what I've understood, scheduling is integral to the whole.

As I was attempting to compare my weekly routine with those of my working friends, I realized that I have developed a unique weekly schedule of my own. Thanks to the power of the internet and modern satellite communication, the makeup of my weeks can now be directly associated with three specific television broadcasts back home. Curb Your Enthusiasm is certainly (in my worthless yet very knowledgeable opinion) the best show on television (maybe ever). It airs back home on Sunday nights, making it available for my viewing via the internet on Monday. In close second to Curb is South Park. Where Curb is consistently on top of its game, South Park tends to be hit and miss from week to week (granted this is all just over the past 8 or so weeks). It airs Wednesday evening, making it available for me on... you guessed it, Thursday! To wrap it all up, and if you didn't already assume, my Sundays are consumed by big sweaty oversized men in helmets and pads smashing into each other purely for my enjoyment, never ending glory, and multimillion dollar checks in their names. So the new, improved, and what is sure to be immensely short-lived weekly breakdown goes like this: Monday is still Monday, Thursday is the new Friday, and Sunday is, well, also still Sunday.

Not quite the work-for-the-weekend mentality down here. Just something I realized today that I found amusing.

Getting acquainted

Moved nearly a week ago. Our new homestead is working out quite well. Tuesday was the day of the switch. We were booted from our apartment at roughly 10 am, and weren't scheduled to get the keys to the new place until 2:30 pm. We lead our own mini exodus to the botanical garden with all of our luggage and other miscellaneous belongings, and camped out until about a half hour before our meeting. It was a very nice day, spent mostly on a bench with a book and all of the cats.

I had been reading Moby Dick, but shelved it temporarily after a friend leant me Scar Tissue, Anthony Keidis' (of Red Hot Chili Peppers acclaim) autobiography which I've been meaning to read for a while now. Just finished it 2 days ago. It was good, written in a very lucid style as if he were dictating the entirety of his life in between songs at one of his concerts. Sometimes it was a giant ramble, at others very introspective. More than anything, it was a broken record of drug abuse, sex, and struggle for sanity. I've always been intrigued by tortured souls. In many senses I can relate completely with elements of their existence, others I can't begin to comprehend. Especially when it comes to the degree to which their troubles take them. I can definitely identify with the beginnings of a downward spiral, but I always come to this point where its "OK, whatever is dragging me down I can overcome", and so far I've been able to. I want to take this moment to thank the powers at hand for not biologically condemning me to a life of drug abuse or any variation of compulsive obsession. Could be my upbringing, but I know I don't have it in me to completely detach myself from the people I love and waste away on drugs, alcohol, or whatever else. Just the right balance of selflessness and selfishness to allow me to have my own experience while always having that anchor keeping me safely aware. I guess that anchor is the love I have for others, and without which I wouldn't have for myself. A good read nonetheless, but I'm looking forward to getting back into Moby Dick.

Once we moved in, we did a little exploring. Turns out there is no need for us to venture any further than one square block of our apartment to fulfill any basic need. Laundry spot, gym, market, pizzeria, cafe, kiosk, and even Burger King are all steps away. Very convenient. Our favorite 2 bars (the ones that play American football) are just 10 minute walks away. The pizzeria is already a staple in my routine. I think I've eaten there 3 times in the past 5 days. They have a pineapple, ham, and cheese empanada that I cannot get enough of, and the pizza isn't too shabby either. The gym was less than $20 US for the month. Its not quite as intimate as our little gym room in the last building, but its nice to see fresh faces and the management couldn't be happier to let us sweat all over their equipment for a month. I'm excited to see what the next few weeks hold in this place, but I'm also excited to move on away from Buenos Aires in December.

No good reason

Take the time, read the lines. Listen to your heart. Discuss topics, fill your pockets. Break the mold. Beat the cold. Life is what you make it. It only matters what you think, not what anyone else does. Fight the power. Take the sweet with sour. Things are the way they are. It's just the way it is.

This world is a crazy and beautiful place. Some days, I want to retreat entirely and never put myself in a position to try and comprehend it ever again. Other days, I can't get enough of its contradictions and want to bask in the pure absurdity of it all. It's difficult not to think about yourself all of the time. Where you are, what you're doing, what you're life consists of. Its something we all have in common. It seems we, as a collective, spend most of our lives worrying about the big picture items, but it's our minor hap chance encounters, experiences, and enlightening moments that keep us reflecting and progressing as individuals. They are inconsistent in nature and nearly impossible to document from day to day, but they keep me going. Especially now, in this particular and peculiar point in my life, where the 'big picture items' are more or less on the back burner and my fish-out-of-water existence is making way for all kinds of these insignificantly significant occurrences.

One such occurrence, which I nor any of it's witnesses will not soon forget, is the phone exchange I just made with the doorman at our old building. He gave me what seems to be a 5 to 6 year old phone that turns on and off at its own will along with 100 pesos in exchange for my 3 year old (it has Cingular logos all over it, that was about 3 years ago right?) silver flip phone with camera. The dude first got a glimpse of the phone when I asked him to help me add credit for the first time. During that interaction, I unknowingly agreed I would give it to him when I left. He asked me frequently over the past month or so to see it and play with it, and each time I didn't have it on me (hint to how necessary it actually is). I also tried, on every possible occasion, to explain that I wasn't leaving the country and would require it well into the Summer. Nevertheless, he was persistent, and I was impartial. In the end, it definitely did not work to my benefit, and some of my friends can't conceive of why I would ever go through with such a thing. I don't need benefit. I don't know what I need. I don't know much. But I do know he'll have that phone until it no longer functions (similar to the one he gave me in exchange), I do know he's never seen a phone like it, I do know he will give it to his children, I do know he'll always remember the kid who gave him that phone, and I do know that I will remember that kid too. That kid who did things for no good reason.

Take the time to feed the lines. Listen to your art. Distrust topics. Empty your pockets. Eat the mold. Treat the cold. Life is in how you take it. It doesn't matter what you think, nor what anyone else does. Slight the hour. Take sweet as sour. Things are, and they are. It's just the way it is.

Lighter Load

Halloween was nothing short of ridiculous. Imagine 150 foreigners walking around in costumes in celebration of a holiday, which for all intents and purposes, doesn't exist here. We partook in a pub crawl throughout our neighborhood. We all worked with what we had to put together our costumes. Matt the basketball player, Alex the surfer, Sean the ninja, Brian the punk, Miles the cowboy, and me, the guy with his clothes on backwards and a bandage wrapped around his head. Can't quite tell you what I was going for, dude with a head injury? backwards man? (thanks Eli) Kris Kross? (thanks Brett), you tell me. It was Dave who had the most intriguing Halloween story. He managed to injure his foot on Thursday night in an alleged break-dancing fight at a local hip hop club. He threatened to forego Halloween altogether, so we did what any irresponsible friends would: acquired a set of crutches and a hooded cape for our fallen Jedi. I think its safe to say he enjoyed the night more than the rest of us.

A lighter load, figuratively and literally. I sent back more than half of my belongings with Dave to California on Sunday. Aside from Dave, we are on the verge of losing another member of the pack. So here I am with half the stuff, and a half of the crew. We spent the day cleaning and preparing the apartment for the walk through and handing back of the keys. Minimal damage, significant memories. Our new apartment is relatively close, just 8 or 9 stone throws away, half the size and price. Interesting to see what the next month has in store. I have grown accustomed to living here. Not necessarily the way I envisioned it, but eventually settings and routines become comfortable.

Comfort is not what I came looking for, which itself remains to be discovered. I am a little upset/pleased with myself over this one. As far as expectations go, I have too easily become complacent in the search for what I hope to gain from this experience, but on the flip side I'm allowing myself to just be myself and share a unique experience with close friends. For example, I have been more concerned with who my 7-1 Vikings are playing on any given Sunday than I have about pretty much everything else. I knew I would follow them closely as I always do, but they have rarely been this good in recent history and its impossible for me to ignore them when I have the opportunity to see every game. Great game yesterday by the way. They gave up a big lead in the 2nd half, but never failed to keep the game interesting. A win is a win. Really, what I'm trying to say is that it has been engrained in my existence to constantly be in pursuit of purpose, and the biggest challenge I've been presented with so far is attempting to ignore the urge. I have been enjoying myself thoroughly and frugally. Time is going to continue running on along with my mind. Something will come of everything, and the more I force it the more uncomfortable I will become in my own skin. I'm well experienced with this dilemma, and its proven to be time and time again unavoidable. Confidence in uncertainty. I'm just a going with the flowing, taking a vacation within a vacation.

Frustration Observation

Over the course of two months, several items and issues have found their way onto my don't-make-me-punch-another-wall list. It's personal . I'm sure many of the list's articles would invoke similar emotional responses across the board, but I am also fairly certain that some are peculiar to myself and a handful of others. Here are a few:

-Change: For a country with such a history of economic turmoil, and which is currently undergoing forced inflation, there seems a massive shortage of small bills. Being a visitor with a foreign bank account, it is highly impractical for me to visit the ATM and pull out 80 pesos at a time (fees). Therefore, I'm in possession of more 100 peso bills than I'd like at any given moment. Deciding when to pull these bad boys out is far more strategic than any spending I've ever been involved in. Being turned away for attempting to pay with too large a bill is something I have never experienced at all, let alone at this frequency. It is nerve-racking to say the least, and whether or not they accept the bill is a coin flip in itself. On the other hand, paying with exact change is an act deserving of some award in their eyes, and they don't hesitate to show it. I have received more praise for handing over the perfect amount than I have for giving up my subway seats to the elderly and opening doors for women with strollers combined.

-Sidewalks: Its hard enough for me to walk down a sidewalk as it is. Throw a few obstacles and people in the mix and it becomes close to impossible. I know I'm living in a bustling metropolis with well above a few million inhabitants. I'm well trained in side-stepping and shooting gaps, but I'm also 6'2" (188 cm) and 240 lbs (109 kg). I'm a freak (not really, there are definitely bigger people here) in this city, and people look at me like a freak (most likely due to the blond hair covering my scalp and the better half of my face). These streetwalkers spend so much time looking at me with their jaws agape that they unknowingly position themselves right in my path. It takes a lot of energy getting to my top walking speed, altering my course and pace is a wear and tear I've had about enough of. On the point of wear and tear, the conditions of these sidewalks is another major concern. Not only am I navigating an above average frame, but I also have two below average ankles leading the way. Although usually a burden, constantly looking at my feet to avoid injury has helped immensely in also avoiding the sporadically placed planters, more-than-occasional missing tiles/uneven surfaces, and over-abundance of carelessly forgotten canine fecal matter (dog shit). If I ever did walk anywhere back home, I undoubtedly would run into some of the same issues I have faced here, but nobody walks in California. Upside: no gas expense.

-The Post System: I have briefly discussed the ordeal that was obtaining my computer from airport customs. The quick rundown is this: the international airport holds any item that is valued at over a specific amount. When this happens, the recipient must go to the airport (good 30+ minute trip south of the city depending) to be shuffled in and out of 3 or 4 different offices for 1 to 2 hours until that magical time when they give you your item and you can book it. This process also generates some 20 odd pages of purposeless paperwork that would make the most lackadaisical of tree huggers shed a tear. It is in one word, painful. This was my first taste of the system here, and after a second taste, an understandable process given the circumstances. Sending a postcard in this city was by far the most frustrating post-related experience I have ever had. A 5x7 postcard, stamp it, correct address it, mail box drop it. Nothing to it, right? Wrong. After two weeks of being told this and that about where to procure a stamp, I finally found the post office, where to no surprise an hour long line awaited me. I came back to the post office two more times to find the same time-consuming mess. Finally, on the third visit, there was no line and I sent out my postcard to my loving and very deserving grandparents for a minor 5 peso fee. All said and done it wasn't too tough to get it in the mail, just a much more contorted and convoluted process than necessary. Could be a language thing. Could easily be me. We'll see if it makes the trip north.

-Ketchup: You knew it was coming, and if you didn't, you don't know me well enough. Not saying that its a less-than-satisfactory ketchup situation down here. I have found Heinz, as well as an assortment of other marginally acceptable combinations of flavors and spices labeled "ketchup" that do the trick. My real frustration lies in the presentation and availability of this "ketchup". Heinz, as far as I can tell, does not exist in restaurants and is only available for purchase in select few markets. No biggie, I like this other "ketchup" enough. Well in actuality, it has nothing to do with liking it as much as needing it. I have been addicted to ketchup since infancy (if not infancy, then immediately post-infancy). If you are unaware, I need ketchup like words need letters, like monkeys need bananas, like albinos need sunscreen--you get the picture. So, when you ask for ketchup at a restaurant here, they don't bring you a nice, full, or even half full bottle. They bring you a basket of packets (a packet basket if you will). This basket usually includes packets of mostaza (mustard) and mayonesa (mayonnaise) as well. At best there are usually 3 to 4 packets of ketchup in these baskets. A severely insufficient amount for such connoisseurs (or consumers?) as myself. I generally have to request additional packets, which more often than not has been acceptable. Now for the packets themselves. These aren't your common, jagged-edged U.S. standard packets with the pilot tear. No. These are of the highest-durable plastic that is still of the "tearable" variety. The conditions must be perfect in order to bust one of these guys open on the first go. No sweat, grease, or other enemy-of-friction can be present on the fingertips. The angle and force must be perfect. Avoid mild to moderate winds. Included in these packets are multi-language instruction booklets. In fact, these are the ketchup packets Satan refuses to serve in hell... and yet, I am a slave to them. My slavery has brought me to the verge of insurmountable rage and/or tears on more occasions in the past 2 months than I care to reminisce about. Its my plight.

That's the short list. I really have nothing to complain about, but complaining is fun, I do it often, and these things have gotten the best of me so far. No worry, I'll show them.

Open House

The internet here has been a pretty big pain. I've spent the last few days (since Saturday to be exact) attempting to upload a video for your viewing pleasure. Anytime any of us utilize more than our fair share of bandwidth, the internet won't work for anyone else. Without much more explanation, I tried several times to upload it straight to here with no success. I did, however, create a YouTube account and the attempt was successful.

Here, ladies and gentlemen, is the video tour of our casa taken Saturday morning after a night of cards and roommate bonding. I apologize in advance for the disheveled appearance of myself and the abode. We are living in this apartment for another week and then we move here until the 1st of December. After that...?

(Note: This post was actually published on Wednesday, October 28th and not whatever it says above and below. It took me 5 days to get this to work, so don't believe what you read.)

Smile Like You Mean It

This week has been odd in that I haven't been eager to do much, but at the same time feel as though I've become more rooted in this place over a few days than I have over the past however many. Not to say my plans are changing on a daily basis or that I haven't made the most of my time. More so, I made a point to get the "plan" thing out of my head and try to enjoy myself without worrying so much about anything. It proved successful. This week, I finally made it to La Bamba (as previously noted), made a couple of friends, attended a low-key dinner gathering with new people, and played basketball for the first time in 3 months without injury. Feel inclined to mention I happened to play marginally well for a big white boy with a diminishing concept of athletic grace (after years of sports that are unfriendly to the body and oftentimes involved picking myself up off the ground every 30 seconds). It must come naturally.

So then I got thinking, and realized I've spent most of the last 2 or 3 weeks wasting time worrying about time. I'm convinced the natural world is composed through logic, and our human nature is the one element fighting against it. I know I'm amongst the most fortunate souls on the planet. Never worried about where I will rest my head at night, or how I'm going to get my next meal. I actually have the opportunity to spend time in thought and doing activities as the one I'm involved with in this very moment. A comfort (and curse? does it matter?) known to few. In my case, a discomfort was born from this comfort. Seemingly a balance in the natural order, yet imbalances everywhere. Lonely in company, content in solitude. Contradiction after contradiction. Nothing and everything making sense all at once. In the end, it all makes me smile (or smirk).

Hi

Rain today. Not very motivated. Listened to some music. Drew a little on paper. Let's hope for supreme weather tomorrow.

¡Batería!

Drums, drums, drums, drums, and more drums! Finally made it to La Bomba de Tiempo last night. It was definitely worth the wait. Here is a video to give you the basic idea (think finely-tuned drum circle).

La Bomba de Tiempo is a group that plays this specific venue (Konex Center) every Monday night. They also play various other venues and occasions throughout South America, with home base being Buenos Aires.

The show did not help in filling the void this drumless existence has created, but it was an all around awesome night spent wanting nothing more than a drum and the opportunity to add my own flavor to the mix.

I would love to see something like this happen back home.

Pan-American Pondering

The brainstorming continues. Tentative plans turn into altered tentative plans. I had somewhat of an epiphany last night in regard to the allocation and organization of my time down here. The gut feeling that came along with this realization is something I haven't felt in a long time. My prior idea to travel in November felt somewhat rushed when I began to undertake the planning of a 1-2 month trip in 2 weeks time. Made me somewhat uneasy about the whole thing.

The new idea entails staying in Buenos Aires through November, most likely staying with the group through mid to late December. Then comes the exciting part. I'll start off in Argentina, seeing areas in the north before heading into Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, and on up into Central America. Not quite sure where I'll end my travels, could be Costa Rica, could be Mexico. One way flights are dirt cheap ($100-200) from Central America to CA. As it stands, I have a flight scheduled from Buenos Aires to LAX on May 19, 2010. After looking into it, the cost to change my flight from May back to March would be about the same as what I paid for the round trip ticket in the first place. Figured I'll cut my losses, hold onto that cash, and use it in order to see all that I can. This go around, I'll have 2 months to plan a 2-3 month trip. Another positive is the fact that I will be able to spend more time in this city. Not so sure this would've happened under my prior plan. All in all, I get the sense that this is the right way to go. I'm not presented with this feeling very often, so I'm just going to run with it.

Happenings of the week:

Monday, October 12- Columbus Day is alive and well in Buenos Aires. Sean and I contemplated visiting the zoo, but after strolling past the packed ticket office, opted for a visit to Parque Tres de Febrero instead (best people watching in the city and its only a 15-20 minute walk away). Vast assortment of amateur bicyclists, rollerbladers (most amusing by far), hockey players, walkers, joggers, and loungers just like us. Stopped by a street vendor and enjoyed a nice chorizo (pork sausage) sandwich. Parked on a nice patch of grass, got some reading, drawing, and music listening in. Good day.

Tuesday the 13th- We knew the Oktoberfesters were coming back at some point. Chone and I decided to hit up a handful of bookstores in our neighborhood. Ended up being a solid walk, saw some parts of the neighborhood we hadn't seen yet. The boys never showed, so we went to sleep.

Wednesday the 14th- The missing caballeros strolled in about 5, 6, or 7 am. I really don't remember due to the fact that I was sleeping with my ear plugs. Woke up feeling a harsh hit from this lingering cold. Spent most of the day lying low, making it out for a meal.

Thursday the 15th- Took a trip down to San Telmo with Matt to visit a bookstore we had both read about. Cool little place called Walrus Books (incorporation of intriguing animals always sparks my interest). Mostly contained used books, all in English. Large selection of literary works from well known authors. No clue what I was looking for, probably passed up on a handful of great books, ended up with a book entitled God's Grace by Bernard Malamud. I read his book The Fixer in my Philosophy of Literature course back a couple of years ago, and thoroughly enjoyed his style. We'll see if this one turns out to be any good. Still need to get through another 300 or so pages of Moby Dick first. Went to dinner with Alex and Stephen (buddy from LMU living here for 6 weeks). Met up with one of Alex's friends from Nebraska who happened to be in Buenos Aires, and also happens to own a bar in Costa Rica. I got talking to him, and thats about when the pieces in my head clicked together.

Today, Friday the 16th- Was so excited last night about my pseudo-epiphany that I had trouble getting to sleep (sure the beers didn't help). Strolled down the street to Jardín Botánico (coined "the cat park" due to the lazy feline infestation) this afternoon to draw and write for a while amidst the trees. Then went to a little cafe around the corner from the apartment for a hot chocolate and sandwich while I did some reading. Worked out and composed what you've been wasting your time with for the past couple of minutes. Heading to the all-you-can-eat parrilla in a bit. This place is the best deal in town (17 pesos or 4.50 US). Not the best quality meat, but the price includes ice cream! I scream, you scream, we all scream for all-you-can-eat ice cream! This will be our 5th or 6th time there in the 6 weeks we have now been here. Enough said.

Have a grand weekend.

Grab Bag!

Many things have been coming and going in my mind the past few days, but it seems as though a solidification of these ideas is well on its way. Further development of a plan for my time down here is following suit as well. Starting a loop of travel in the first week of November. Going to make my way through the north of Argentina, Bolivia, Peru, and Chile (this list is tentative, just like most things in this life at the moment) for the better half of 2 months.

Following are a few recommendations for your consideration:

Dinner/Lunch/Snack you should prepare for yourself right now: Grilled cheese with hot dogs in the middle (should've taken a picture). Another fine addition to my culinary arsenal, which also includes, but is not limited to, PB&J with chocolate chip cookie crumbles in the middle (its a theme), bowl of honey nut cheerios with milk including a scoop of peanut butter, chocolate sauce, and honey, anything microwavable with ketchup, and most memorably, day-old, refrigerated fast-food cheeseburgers rejuvenated by a little love from my best friend, the broiler. The grilled-cheese-hot-dog-combo was born out of the realization that all I had to eat were hot dogs, cheese, butter, and, you guessed it, bread (at least the only combinable items, as I also prepared a sliced apple and some broccoli). Either way, it is an absolutely delectable dish and slightly more mainstream than the majority of my various other original recipes.

Another artist/album I've been listening to for the past few days: Heart of the Congos by The Congos. My favorite song off the record is The Wrong Thing. Experts (whatever their qualifications) peg this album up with the best of the best of classic reggae albums. I would say I have to agree. It was released in 1977, and was largely out of print only until the past decade. Good listening, even greater accomplice in recent contemplation. Give it a go.

A film EVERYONE needs to see, except children under 13: I saw Let the Right One In for the first time at some point in the spring of 2008. It blew me away then and every other viewing afterwards. Here is a trailer (subtitles area must). It's a Swedish film, pretty dark, but with one of the most beautiful (albeit mildly disturbing) stories I have ever encountered. No need to go into too detail for this one, just watch it for yourself.

Quiet Weekend

This weekend, I had planned on attending Oktoberfest with the boys somewhere entailing a 14 hour bus journey away, but due to my health concerns, and overall lack of luster, I opted out. This left me here in the city with Chone (Sean). On Friday, we done gone to another Museo. This one being the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes. For those of you who don't habla (I try), it is the fine arts museum, which houses countless works from periods ranging from the late renaissance until present day. The biggest museo I've visited here yet, we spent at least a couple of hours wandering the halls stopping to view many works, but walking past many more.

Came across a few artists I had never heard of or seen before, whose presented works I found to be intriguing. The first was Santiago Rusiñol, whose Jardin de Aranjuez I stood in front of for a handful of minutes. When I look at the image now online, I'm uncertain what drew me in, but I remember it being somewhat dark and daunting. It is most often the contrast between what is being depicted (for this painting a garden) and how it is being depicted (slightly ominous, yet inviting) that sucks me into appreciating any artistic expression I am presented with. Joaquin Sorolla was another artist that caught my eye. The museum had three different paintings of his, all of which were scenes of ships, some landing on shore, others with people and livestock. I'm uncertain that I've ever seen such a brilliant white as in the sails of his ships. That is what really sold them to me, just the sails. The last artist I'm going to mention is Salvador Sanchez Barbudo. His painting Recepción de un Cardenal (not a very good image) was probably my favorite of the day. On first view, it seemed blurry and uninteresting... then I noticed the detail. Some of the objects are so intricately painted that they aren't immediately noticeable amongst the vague shadows, faces, and bleak background. The work possesses a near perfect contrast of elements, and immediately made me think of life as a beautiful vortex of cares and discards. Anytime this thought is associated with anything, I know it will be remembered.

Saturday, we did jack. Went to a bar in the night and discussed all types of topics

Today, we went to to the bars that play USA sports. Watched the Vikings and Angles win (sweep in Fenway, 9th inning magic). It was great.

Other then that, nothing too exciting, which is exactly what I planned and wished for.

Hope all is well.

(Un)Inspired

I've felt a bit under the weather over the past week since my return from Patagonia. Not sure if it's because of this that I have felt a total lack of inspiration in all things, but nevertheless, this void has been driving me a bit nuts. Watched the Vikings on Monday Night Football and it was great. Probably the peak of my week. Went to Chinatown again on Tuesday for some food and to walk about for a while. On Wednesday, the crew and I visited a weapons museum. Nothing too special, lots of miniature figurines, regular sized swords, knives, spears, guns, and even bigger guns. Interesting to point out that the visit to the museum did invoke some inspiration to play video games (probably only because I'm running out of ideas). It's not that I've gotten to the point of stagnation being here for over a month now, but I really believe that my trip to Patagonia triggered in my mind the need to be on the road.

All the time I prepared for the excursion to this hemisphere, I was driven by a desire to attain some sense of consistency in my lifestyle through a development of routine and/or occupation. I assumed this would be a simple enough undertaking, given the fact that the last year of my life was fairly hectic and disjointed apart from the job thing. However, I have become aware of the probability that this is just the way that I am. I need to wander, I need to see all that I can, I need to be free of commitments (for a while). As eager as I am to establish a life somewhere (it can wait), through all of my ruminations, it is clear to me that nothing is concrete. There is no formula, no success, no failure, only the pursuit of whatever it is we as a species pursue. Some believe its happiness, some believe its comfort. I have no intuition of what it is (I would hope it encompasses both of the aforementioned items, although I have no way of defining what either happiness or comfort really is), I just know that I'm after it. At this moment, I plan to continue walking the streets of this city for some time to come, and if after a period, I'm no longer feeling it, I will take the time to explore all of the things on this continent I have always wanted to (surely experiencing things unexpected in the process).

How does that sound? Sounds like somewhat of a plan to me.

Couple Doods

Here are 2 drawings from the trip so far.

Pace Cooling

Very nice getting out of the city for a handful of days. I'm finding it difficult to put my experience into words, so I'll do a play-by-play and hopefully it will seep through a bit.

9/28- Caught a flight to El Calafate with Mr. Chew and Mr. Kyle in the early afternoon. Landed in what looked to be a deserted wasteland surrounded by peaks and lakes at around 6pm. Hopped into a bus for a 3 hour transport to the small town of El Chaltén where we stayed 3 nights. Arrived after dark, ate a little dinner, and crashed.

El Chaltén is a tiny town in the northern sector of the Los Glaciares Nat'l Park. Over the past 15 years, the town has become the launching pad for trekking and excursions in the region. There are 2 basic trails leading from the town to the 2 most popular sights in the area; one being Cerro Torre, and the other being Monte Fitz Roy (both pictured below).

9/29- Took a hike to Laguna Torre at the foot of Cerro Torre. The trail left conveniently from the back door of our hostel. The trail was 22 km (14 mi) and took about 6 hours in total. The terrain surrounding the trail was wind worn and fairly uninviting, but the horizon and sky were particularly spectacular. We took our time getting to the destination, took a few minutes to soak it up, plugged in ipods, and booked it on the way home, making the "3 hour" trip in just over 2. We were destroyed.

The clouds were unlike anything I've ever seen before, and caused a significant contrast between patches of sky.

Laguna Torre, complete with its own glacier and Cerro Torre in the background, was the destination on our first outing.

9/30- Took my favorite hike at altitude of all time. We took another conveniently located trail (this time out the front door) and took a more leisurely 17 km round trip to Laguna Capri and adjacent viewpoint of Mount Fitz Roy (below). The trail passed through more scenic areas than the previous day's, and kept the gem hidden the entire way. Made for an enjoyable hike filled with anticipation for Fitz Roy. Easily, the most breathtaking natural wonder I have ever been in the presence of, Fitz Roy is an assembly of massive sheer rock walls violently protruding from equally jagged surroundings. It is something out of a fairy tale and resembles a powdered portrait even in person. To think that attempts are made at ascending its most lowliest of levels ignites speculation as to the mental health of these individuals. We spent a good chunk of time at the lookout and then ventured to the lake, where we ate lunch and lounged about some more. The scenery changed fairly abruptly as massive cloud groups swept over the peaks of the mountains. Fearing tumultuous weather, we made our descent. On our way down, we spotted a couple of condor, whose wingspans easily reached a couple of meters. Just had to endure a little rain and sleet. Eventually made it back. Again, we were destroyed.

Cerro Fitz Roy and surroundings

10/1- Lounged around all day waiting for our bus to El Calafate on the southern end of the Nat'l Park.

10/2- Woke up early and made our way to Perito Moreno Glacier (big draw of El Calafate). Unfortunately, we met nasty weather and were only able to view the glacier for 3 or so minutes. We spent the rest of the time huddled in the lodge, witnessing the wind, rain, and snow inhibit our glacier experience. We were, however, fortunate enough to see and hear a few chunks of glacier collapse. It was definitely a sight to see, but I guess I'm more of a mountain man than a glacier guy.

10/3- Walked around the town of El Calafate, bought a book, ate lunch (the food was some of the best I've had since being in the country), took a nap, and flew back to Buenos Aires.

Last minute

I love winning in the last possible moment. My vikings did this today. Matt (49er fan) and I went to the bar that plays football and spent all day watching games we didn't care about, hoping that our game would be presented to us in the final moments. It happened, and the result couldn't have been more perfect. I'm pretty sure everyone there knows who I am now.

Either way, I leave for Patagonia tomorrow until Sat/Sun. 1 week hiatus. Deal.

Ram Bull

I never quite know what to say. Each day is different, bringing unique thoughts, feelings, and inspirations as fleeting as the days themselves. Thus far, I haven't had to look too far in coming up with material. Today is different. There are topics I plan on addressing that just don't fit in with now, so instead I guess I'll glance over some thoughts on expression and awareness.

Expression is an amazing practice, rewarding in itself, challenging, educating, and at the end of the day, relaxing. I don't necessarily know anything that may or may not be going on in this life or any other, but I do feel energy and the need to do what I can with it. When I ignore this energy, it seldom produces anything desirable. When I embrace and entertain it, I am, at the very least, presented with the satisfaction that honesty brings. This notion is what it comes down to: being in touch on a level that goes most easily ignored.

Expression is simple in theory, but in reality, like anything else, carries its own share of complexities. Even if the expressive actions themselves come without much effort, they still take along with them a chunk of personal spirit that is irreplaceable. For some, this spirit is understood to be regenerative. Others do not so easily part with this spirit. It is something kept close to the chest in fear of the unknown.

Comfort is an illusion. I say, do what feels right in accordance with your values (you don't have to listen to me). Most of us only get one ride in this rodeo. Numbers add up to nothing (Powderfinger). I try not to deliberately step on toes, but my feet are a little big, so naturally toes get in the way from time to time. I deal with it and move on. All we can do is keep ourselves in check. Another fear of mine is to wake up one morning and not recognize myself in the mirror. If I make it a daily task to see what's going on upstairs, the only surprises I'll get are the ones I can't help in the first place. As great as it is to escape from the familiar, you can never quite escape from yourself (ask me if you really need some examples). Might as well make it a cozy place to hang out.

It's really tough to do, and something I strive for everyday. Honk if you feel me.

Musica!

If the minutes/hours/days/weeks were compiled, I have no doubt in my mind the conclusions would show I have spent more time listening to music than I have devoted to any other single voluntary activity in my lifetime. If one looked even further, they would notice the music that has found its way to me ranges from all ends of the rhythm realm. Following, are some of the sounds I've been pumping into my head for the past short while:

I have loved reggae music for some time now. Everyone has their own opinions of reggae, but I've found that most people's exposure and experience with the music is very limited (Mr. Marley and various reggae/rock/pop outfits). I've spent days, maybe weeks, searching for and discovering reggae that never would've presented itself otherwise, educating myself about the culture and expanding my library in the process. Within the last 4 months, this exploration lead me to a whole new vein of related music. Afrobeat is a music born in Central Africa (Nigeria) during the 1970's, which blends traditional african sounds with sounds of jazz and funk. Aside from the incredibly difficult names, it's a music that speaks to me as strongly as any other I've ever fallen in love with. I urge everyone to give it a listen. Here are a few albums/examples of the reggae I love as well as the Afrobeat.

- Horace Andy is a Jamaican reggae artist with a classic sound and an amazing voice. "Something on My Mind" and "Riding for a Fall" are 2 of my favorites.

- Darker Than Blue is a compilation album of soul music made in Jamaica during the 1970's. The whole album is incredible, 2 goodies are "Ghetto Funk" and "Gypsy Woman".

- Nigeria 70 vol. 1 and Nigeria Special: Modern Highlife, Afro-Sounds and Nigerian Blues are my 2 favorite Afrobeat/Afrofunk compilations. If the covers alone don't sell you, listen to a couple of songs.

- The Indestructible Beat of the Soweto is a great compilation of South African township music (originally released in the mid 80's). Different from Afrobeat, but just as special. "Awungilobolele" by Udokotela Shange Namajaha (told you) is great. There is another song by the same artist "Sobabamba" that I enjoy more so listen to the sample on the album link page.

Now, taking a huge detour from the groove and funk of international sounds, comes an artist I've been listening to for a few years now, and a fair bit in the past couple of weeks.

Being a lover of word and thought, I've always been a sucker for the music of singer/songwriters whose lyrics oftentimes carry more weight than their melodies. Of all these artists, Townes Van Zandt has easily become a top contender in my book. Be Here to Love Me is a great documentary about his extraordinarily troubled life and times. He is a constant reminder that you can't take the peaks without the pitfalls. Life is an unavoidable blend of beauty and ugliness, happiness and despair. Impossible to understand, or even recognize, one without the other. Townes may be the most talented songwriter I have ever come across, as far as his ability to express this undeniable truth is concerned. "Tecumseh Valley", "Fare Thee Well, Miss Carousel" , "I'll be Here in the Morning", "Snake Mountain Blues", "Rake", and "Waitin' Around to Die" are a handful of my favorites.

Definitely watch the "Waitin' Around to Die" video, he is playing in his trailer home in Austin, TX. The old guy is his neighbor who's been a blacksmith his whole life. Immediately prior to this scene, the neighbor was making references to Townes about reforming his life, aware of all his talent and charisma. Its pretty touching and gives insight on the mindset of people who can't do much more than give up slowly (submitting to the pitfalls). Here is the longer version of the video which presents the whole picture.

Travel is a fluctuation of the soul, and through walking about the city, its not hard to see that this place has been dealt its own set of cards. The blending of my life and this new environment has made my ear gravitate towards this music because it fits, its beautiful, and it fills up all that space in my head.

Enjoy

Brief rundown of the trip so far

It has occurred to me I have yet to describe the experience so far. Since the 5th and final member of our group arrived today, it feels necessary now to do so. Here goes a highlight reel of what the past 21 days have held:

9/3-4 Days 1/2: Boarded my flight @ 10:30am, with a stopover in Atlanta. Managed to have 2 long, somewhat comfortable flights. Landed a good hour before Chew, Sean, and Smeal (3 of the 4 compadres). Upon their arrival we filled up a couple of taxis then made our way to the apartment.

Spent the next week exploring the neighborhood, meeting new friends, eating new places, cooking with the boys, laying low, doing my best to conserve funds (it's a marathon), and taking the occasional evening excursion. A bit hazy all in all, but whales o fun.

9/14 Day 12: This day is well documented due to the fact that I finally procured a functioning mobile device as well as a guitar.

9/16 Day 14: Enjoyed conversations with 2 new people (1 in English and 1 in my patented horribly broken Spanish/English) and took a nice long walk by myself initiated by a Subte (subway) breakdown. Bad weather came in the next day.

9/18-20 Days 16-18: Awoke very early Friday (8am) to more nasty weather, and in hope of retrieving my laptop from the hands of airport customs. Successful, I returned to the abode, took a nice nap, hit the town a little too hard, and spent the rest of the weekend in pain (forcing myself out of bed to watch football on Saturday).

9/21 Day 19: Unsuccessfully attempted to attend La Bomba de Tiempo, apparently a Monday night staple in the city consisting of a handful of ridiculous percussionists playing for 3 hours in the early evening (7-10pm). Needless to say, right up my alley. We still stood outside and listened while I salivated. Doing my best to restrain myself from grabbing any nearby object which I could use as a drum (my heart is broken, should've packed the djembe).

9/22 Day 20: More rain...

9/23 Yesterday: Visited Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires (MALBA). Pretty coo museum with Latin American art ranging over the past 100 years. It consisted of 2 main floors, first floor was the main exhibit, top floor was an exhibition of works by Yente Prati (no idea) most of his works consisted of various geometric shapes and/or blank canvases containing 3 or 4 brush strokes. Somewhat disappointing for me, but thats the beauty of art.

9/24 Today: Woke up to one Matthew Ardoin (#5) entering my pitch black cave. He possessed the same energy we did 3 weeks ago when we arrived, although I still woke up in a fairly foul mood. Working out did the trick and the 6 of us (our world-traveling pal Kyle included) ventured toward the elusive Chinatown (2 or 3 square blocks, exactly what you'd expect) in order to make Chew's wildest dreams come alive. We had an excellent meal for an even better price, and then made our way back to where I'm sitting now.

Wanted to include some of the music I've been listening to while here, maybe tomorrow...

Pseudo-revelations I never should've forgotten after the first go-around

Travel is an adventure. In the rush of this adventure, there always seem to be previously understood notions, ideas, or items which initially go unaccounted for. These eventually return to the psyche as time unravels, events take place, mistakes are made, etc. Following are some personal examples of this common phenomenon from the last 2+ weeks.

-I love photos and intended on documenting this trip thus far, however, I have only taken one. I never take as many pictures as I tell myself I will. Never have I fulfilled my own expectations. Above is the only picture I have snapped in 19 days. It comes as no surprise to many who know me why I found this image appealing, but even I am shocked and saddened that after however many days of roaming the streets this is the only image I can claim. Granted, my camera is bulky and an easy target for any shady character looking for an easy payday. What else can I say? Me encanta.

-Alone time is very very necessary, everyday. I am far away from everyone I know... except the 4 good friends who came all this way with me. Like I said, these are good friends, but knowing myself as I do (I can't even spend a few days with my dog without feeling the need to break away) alone time is a must. I typically start off the day with a nice workout in the crate-sized room that is our resident gymnasio, and I fill out the rest of my designated solitude with drawing, writing, listening to music, reading, or attempting to teach myself the guitar. Spending quality productive time by myself is something I never did at home. It seems much easier to to take time for myself down here, and that is fine by me.

-I am a clean freak, at least when compared to the people I'm living with. This was the case through most of college as well, however I lived at home for the past year and forgot all about the dish-washing, floor-sweeping, counter-wiping pansy that I am. Those who took care of me throughout my upbringing will deny this until the day they die, but its true. I can't stand it when common areas are left unkempt. Its somewhat obsessive-compulsive, but I really can't do anything about it. Call me Maid Murph.

-It may be the American in me, but September comes around and find myself craving one thing... Football. I experienced this exact feeling 3 years ago when I was studying in Australia during the same time of the year, although NFL was much more accessible than it is here. So far I have not seen my beloved Vikings take a snap (other than grainy youtube highlights), but I know this is soon coming to an end. There is one bar (possibly 2) capable of broadcasting American Football here in Buenos Aires. Last weekend, I witnessed the much discussed Washington upset over USC, as well as a few other college games. One thing is on for sure: Vikings (with #4) vs. Packers Monday Night Football, October 5th. If you need to find me, I will most definitely be in that little bar with my Adrian Peterson jersey, shouting and cursing and praying that my own horned heroes don't let me down (fat chance).

-Large quantities of alcohol + Unfamiliar people/places = No beuno. I spent my entire college career (4 years of unfamiliar people/places) a drunken mess, often leaving a trail of disaster and/or embarrassment behind me, and it happened to be, more often than not, perfectly acceptable. It was a specific time and place, and I did a great job toning it down the year post-graduation, mostly. Nevertheless, the urge to drink until I don't know left from right returned upon touching down Argenintaway. Not proud to say, I have fallen short of my self-imposed expectations more than once so far (surprised?), but life is life and you can only try to not make the same mistake three or four times. At least I make it home each night safely without missing any valuables or appendages (one and the same). Aside from saying whatever I want here, this page gives me an opportunity to be honest and keep myself accountable (so that's what I'm doin).

-I miss my family more than anticipated. Of course, a factor in moving halfway across the world was to get some serious time and space away from my family for a greater sense of personal growth and identity development, but they enter my thoughts constantly. Its not a problem, especially when I've done my best to be there for everyone I love over the past 23 years. Leaving brings on a sense of guilt, possibly because my biggest fear in life is not being there if something terrible were to happen. Only natural, but needs to get handled. Still, it surprises me how much time I spend thinking about how they're doing or what their days entail.

-Spending time away from familiarity is overall, very peaceful. Traveling is a stressful practice, especially when you don't know what you're doing, where you're going, or what you think you may be saying. This trip has held its share of stressful moments, but there are numerous instances everyday where I find myself taking a breath, looking around, and appreciating the fact that I'm not where I've been forever doing what I've always done. It is a serene, wonderful, and beautiful thing. My life thus far has been full of ups and downs, ins and outs, and for once I sense the illusion of balance. From my experience, I should immediately bottle this up and try to preserve it forever (definitely not possible).

This being my 3rd, lamest, and most heartfelt post yet, I will leave you with some words I came across on my travels through Southeast Asia last January that I make a point to live by (unsuccessfully):

Yesterday is a memory. Tomorrow is the unknown. Now is the knowing.

Soak that up...