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.