Songs on repeat: Bobby Long- Left to Lie. Or really all of Bobby Long's Dirty Pond Songs album
That and one thing I WON'T miss from Italy is the mosquitoes. They opened a buffet on me. I look like I'm diseased!
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Monday, June 7, 2010
Failures that work out awesome
Day 16
Rome, Italy
Reading: Dead and Gone by Charlaine Harris
Rome, Italy
Reading: Dead and Gone by Charlaine Harris
By a complete failure on United's part, my seat on my flight home needed to go to a very irate, very loud young man who treated the flight crew as his personal whipping boys. United managed to overbook the flight by 25+ people and were begging for volunteers to stay. I originally said no but once the young man started screaming and looked on the brink of tears, the United crew person looked at me with the saddest puppy dog eyes and a LOT of incentives to give up my seat. So Rome, we're still pals.
I realized part of my major desire to get out of Rome had to do with getting out of the pit-from-hell hostel I was staying in. Once I got out of there, and into the nice hotel room with my own bathtub, Rome suddenly looked much brighter.
I had a very easy day, as the last day of vacation should be. Had a nice lunch (on United), walked bits of Rome I hadn't seen yet. I was in such a good mood I even bought my first miniskirt. No, really. Once the mosquito bites from hell on my legs fade, it won't look half bad. And once Carly whips me into shape once I'm back, I'll even be happy to wear it. :)
While walking Rome, enjoying my last strawberry gelato, I got hit by the scene I needed to get my story rolling. I sat on a bench outside Vatican City, licking the last bits of gelato from my fingers and finally, finally, finally got to writing. Thank God. I was beginning to think it would never happen.
This is exactly how I wanted to end vacation. A little accomplished, a little full, a little sunburned, a little sore, a little educated, a little bit more wardrobe and a lot excited to move into the next phase of life. I am convinced that life isn't marked by your age. It's marked by the stages of your life that are incomparable to others. There is no master sheet that says when you are supposed to feel one way or achieve another. Life is marked by the significant moments and stages you experience alone. It has taken me a while to realize no one else can dictate what those are for you. But when you are standing on the edge of the next phase and it really is right, it feels exhilarating. The unknown mixed with the steady understanding of where you've been. All I feel is excitement.
Life lessons aside, I'm more ready today to go than I was yesterday. Don't know why. (Although I think my comfortability now that I'm not in a SHADY ass hostel has a lot to do with it.) Tomorrow I'll write up a final post about the trip as a whole. And I hope I remember to include the story about my drink tonite with an ex-KGB officer turned Russian football player. That deserves a story.
For now I'm going to end my vacation the way all vacations should end- with a bubble bath.
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Sunday, June 6, 2010
The blog of the weary, the overtraveled, the whiney
Day 15
Rome, Italy
Reading: From Dead to Worse by Charlaine Harris
This should be my "last day of vacation, wah wah wah" post, but to be honest, I'm too tired to do one justice. I'll do a proper wrap up post when I'm back in LA. After my 17 1/2 hr flight home. When I have plenty of time to think.
Last day in Rome was fun, jam packed and exhausting. I do believe I've walked more in the last 3 days than I have in......years. Today included:
A tour of the Colosseum and Forum and Ancient Rome (awesome)
Two different helpings of gelato- strawberry the first time, mint chip the second (awesome)
A long walk to the one thing I really wanted to do in Rome- see Bocca Della Veritat and get a picture (awesome)
Meeting up with new friends (fun)
A tandem bike ride through Rome's version of Central Park (awesome and somewhat dangerous but hilarious)
Another looooooooong walk through the middle of Rome to get to a fun place to eat (not so awesome)
Another helping of speghetti carbonara (my least favorite of the 3 I've had but still good)
An argument with a random vendor selling tourist crap (hilarious)
The Trevi Fountain at night (awesome)
Another LOOOOOOONG walk way out of the way back to the hostel (NOT awesome but at least I was in good company)
So yeah....vacation over. Long flight tomorrow. Will think of something poignant to say about my trip when I have my wits about me.
Ciao!
Rome, Italy
Reading: From Dead to Worse by Charlaine Harris
This should be my "last day of vacation, wah wah wah" post, but to be honest, I'm too tired to do one justice. I'll do a proper wrap up post when I'm back in LA. After my 17 1/2 hr flight home. When I have plenty of time to think.
Last day in Rome was fun, jam packed and exhausting. I do believe I've walked more in the last 3 days than I have in......years. Today included:
A tour of the Colosseum and Forum and Ancient Rome (awesome)
Two different helpings of gelato- strawberry the first time, mint chip the second (awesome)
A long walk to the one thing I really wanted to do in Rome- see Bocca Della Veritat and get a picture (awesome)
Meeting up with new friends (fun)
A tandem bike ride through Rome's version of Central Park (awesome and somewhat dangerous but hilarious)
Another looooooooong walk through the middle of Rome to get to a fun place to eat (not so awesome)
Another helping of speghetti carbonara (my least favorite of the 3 I've had but still good)
An argument with a random vendor selling tourist crap (hilarious)
The Trevi Fountain at night (awesome)
Another LOOOOOOONG walk way out of the way back to the hostel (NOT awesome but at least I was in good company)
So yeah....vacation over. Long flight tomorrow. Will think of something poignant to say about my trip when I have my wits about me.
Ciao!
When In Rome.....Be Rude
Day 14
Rome, Italy
Reading: From Dead to Worse by Charlaine Harris
Blog title today is brought to you by Chris, a guy from San Diego, who noticed, as I did, that the Italians aren't that keen on waiting on Americans. Or talking to Americans. Or having to answer questions. It's not that they are out and out rude or that all of them are that way. Not at all. We've met some great staff. But on the majority, there always seems to be this pregnant pause when they realize you're American, and then a sigh, then they help you out.
This especially applies to the museum staff at the Vatican Museum. Really not thrilled to have to answer questions. That aside, the Vatican was beautiful. I went on a tour myself, with an audio guide. Sort of wished I had done the guided tour so I understood a bit better what I was looking at. Standing under the Sistine Chapel was impressive. Humbling to look up at the center of the ceiling and understand that one of the greatest artists in history had an idea and executed it so flawlessly.
I enjoyed the Museum, even if I'm not a massive fan of religious art. I get that it's a major part of art history. As I don't follow Catholicism, I wasn't especially moved by the stories of the popes. But the collection was incredible. I think my favorite room was the "map room" (I'm sure there's an impressive Italian name for it). It's a long hallway that is lines on all sides by massive paintings of maps of Italy, done in incredible detail. It was like walking through a fairy tale or something. So much color. Loved that spot.
After the Vatican, I met up with a few people I had met in San Diego and we went sightseeing. We went to this church with a odd quirk. The Capuchin Crypt is under a very non-descript church. Well, non-descript as the churches here can be. They're all pretty incredible. Underneath this church are 5 or 6 rooms with bone art work covering the walls. The story I got was that the chruch ran out of room in their cemetary, so they started using the bones as artwork. It's fascinating and only a little creepy, spooky, eerie. The walls are covered in skulls, tailbones, vertebrae, fingers, etc. It looks amazing. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capuchin_Crypt
We walked around for a few hours, just exploring. Had a great dinner. At first the wait staff wasn't thrilled to be waiting on us. But after we ordered more than one bottle of wine, they loosened up. The head waiter led us down to an underground gallery that they have, where they have stored all sorts of sculptures and mosaics that they have discovered. Apparently, Rome has these types of places everywhere. There is so much history that has been recovered that private owners have just sort of "taken" what they find and set up their own private galleries. We saw a mosaic floor that has been there for over 2000 years.
Today's my last day. I'm headed to the Colosseum for a tour and then meeting up the San Diego people again for more sightseeing. This trip has been so fantastic, but I think I'm ready for a break. I haven't really processed that today is the last day. It'll hit me tomorrow.
Rome, Italy
Reading: From Dead to Worse by Charlaine Harris
Blog title today is brought to you by Chris, a guy from San Diego, who noticed, as I did, that the Italians aren't that keen on waiting on Americans. Or talking to Americans. Or having to answer questions. It's not that they are out and out rude or that all of them are that way. Not at all. We've met some great staff. But on the majority, there always seems to be this pregnant pause when they realize you're American, and then a sigh, then they help you out.
This especially applies to the museum staff at the Vatican Museum. Really not thrilled to have to answer questions. That aside, the Vatican was beautiful. I went on a tour myself, with an audio guide. Sort of wished I had done the guided tour so I understood a bit better what I was looking at. Standing under the Sistine Chapel was impressive. Humbling to look up at the center of the ceiling and understand that one of the greatest artists in history had an idea and executed it so flawlessly.
I enjoyed the Museum, even if I'm not a massive fan of religious art. I get that it's a major part of art history. As I don't follow Catholicism, I wasn't especially moved by the stories of the popes. But the collection was incredible. I think my favorite room was the "map room" (I'm sure there's an impressive Italian name for it). It's a long hallway that is lines on all sides by massive paintings of maps of Italy, done in incredible detail. It was like walking through a fairy tale or something. So much color. Loved that spot.
After the Vatican, I met up with a few people I had met in San Diego and we went sightseeing. We went to this church with a odd quirk. The Capuchin Crypt is under a very non-descript church. Well, non-descript as the churches here can be. They're all pretty incredible. Underneath this church are 5 or 6 rooms with bone art work covering the walls. The story I got was that the chruch ran out of room in their cemetary, so they started using the bones as artwork. It's fascinating and only a little creepy, spooky, eerie. The walls are covered in skulls, tailbones, vertebrae, fingers, etc. It looks amazing. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capuchin_Crypt
We walked around for a few hours, just exploring. Had a great dinner. At first the wait staff wasn't thrilled to be waiting on us. But after we ordered more than one bottle of wine, they loosened up. The head waiter led us down to an underground gallery that they have, where they have stored all sorts of sculptures and mosaics that they have discovered. Apparently, Rome has these types of places everywhere. There is so much history that has been recovered that private owners have just sort of "taken" what they find and set up their own private galleries. We saw a mosaic floor that has been there for over 2000 years.
Today's my last day. I'm headed to the Colosseum for a tour and then meeting up the San Diego people again for more sightseeing. This trip has been so fantastic, but I think I'm ready for a break. I haven't really processed that today is the last day. It'll hit me tomorrow.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Last Stop: Roma!
Day 13
Rome, Italy
Reading: From Dead to Worse by Charlaine Harris
Songs on Repeat: Hmmm none today
I have to say traveling by train is the most enjoyable mode of transportation for me so far. I popped for first class seats and it was very comfortable, easy, lots of room. With the 100+ lbs in luggage I'm lugging around, it was the best way to go.
Arrived in Rome this afternoon and after another nice long nap (I'm really adapting well to this European idea of siesta), I explored Rome a bit on foot. While at first that was a good idea, in the evening I somehow had managed to get to the only part of the city with no metros and had to hoof it all the way back to my hostel. Mental check: Always make your ending destination close to an easy way back to your lodging.
As much as Venice loves their masks and masquerade, Rome is equally into their statues and fountains. In Venice, every shop has masks peering out of every single window. Venice is lousy with masks. As masks are one of my great annoyances and fears, I didn't pick one of those up as a souvenir. During the day time, I was ok with walking by the mask shops. But in the evening when the shops are closed and these dark, souless eyes are staring out at you, hundreds upon hundreds......ughhh.
Rome, however, is the fountain and statue captial of the world, it feels like. It's really awing. In between these normal urban buildings and streets are ancient structures that come out of nowhere. Fantastic fountains and monuments are tucked in alleyways and in piazzas. You'll wandering down a narrow alley, wondering where the hell you're going, when all of a sudden it'll open up, like a light at the end of a tunnel, and you'll be standing in front of the most incredible fountain or monument or statue you've ever seen. That is, until you go the next block over and see the next one. I can't even take pictures of them all.
They also seem to love their film stars here. Feels a little like Sunset Blvd with the souvenir stands. They're big on Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn and Sophia Loren. They're faces are everywhere. I was tempted to buy this great print of Audrey standing in front of Bocca della Veritat from Roman Holiday. Until I realized I could probably get a better one from LA that wouldn't get crinkled on the way home.
I visit the Vatican early tomorrow, my one and only museum this trip. I definitely need to come back and do all the museums and art. Just couldn't seem to get it in this time.
Ciao!
Rome, Italy
Reading: From Dead to Worse by Charlaine Harris
Songs on Repeat: Hmmm none today
I have to say traveling by train is the most enjoyable mode of transportation for me so far. I popped for first class seats and it was very comfortable, easy, lots of room. With the 100+ lbs in luggage I'm lugging around, it was the best way to go.
Arrived in Rome this afternoon and after another nice long nap (I'm really adapting well to this European idea of siesta), I explored Rome a bit on foot. While at first that was a good idea, in the evening I somehow had managed to get to the only part of the city with no metros and had to hoof it all the way back to my hostel. Mental check: Always make your ending destination close to an easy way back to your lodging.
As much as Venice loves their masks and masquerade, Rome is equally into their statues and fountains. In Venice, every shop has masks peering out of every single window. Venice is lousy with masks. As masks are one of my great annoyances and fears, I didn't pick one of those up as a souvenir. During the day time, I was ok with walking by the mask shops. But in the evening when the shops are closed and these dark, souless eyes are staring out at you, hundreds upon hundreds......ughhh.
Rome, however, is the fountain and statue captial of the world, it feels like. It's really awing. In between these normal urban buildings and streets are ancient structures that come out of nowhere. Fantastic fountains and monuments are tucked in alleyways and in piazzas. You'll wandering down a narrow alley, wondering where the hell you're going, when all of a sudden it'll open up, like a light at the end of a tunnel, and you'll be standing in front of the most incredible fountain or monument or statue you've ever seen. That is, until you go the next block over and see the next one. I can't even take pictures of them all.
They also seem to love their film stars here. Feels a little like Sunset Blvd with the souvenir stands. They're big on Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn and Sophia Loren. They're faces are everywhere. I was tempted to buy this great print of Audrey standing in front of Bocca della Veritat from Roman Holiday. Until I realized I could probably get a better one from LA that wouldn't get crinkled on the way home.
I visit the Vatican early tomorrow, my one and only museum this trip. I definitely need to come back and do all the museums and art. Just couldn't seem to get it in this time.
Ciao!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Venice by bulletpoint
Day 12
Venice, Italy
Reading: All Together Dead by Charlaine Harris
Songs on repeat: Vivaldi
Venice, Italy
Reading: All Together Dead by Charlaine Harris
Songs on repeat: Vivaldi
A Few Notes on Venice
1. I had an absolute blast today. That being said, one day is enough. If you have a partner or choose to do the museums, which I didn't, two is probably needed.
2. Gentleman, only bring your ladies here if you are extremely tolerant of holding bags while she shops. At every shop. On every street. All day. There's no way around it. The streets are littered with men with the dejected "I'm trying to be nice because I love her but c'mon" look. It transcends language.
3. THAT being said, ladies, if you are looking for clothes, jewelry, shoes, art, glass, leather, gelato, incredible pasta and pizza, pastries, music, cute gondoliers, cheese, chocolate, staggering history and sights + anything you possibly indulge in HEAVEN, then Venice is for you. Bring friends.
4. Waiters in Venice are somewhat fascinated/baffled by a lady dining at a sit down dinner alone. They aren't sure what to do. First, they want to know if it's a mistake. Then they want to know why you want a full meal. Then they want a date.
5. Venice is amazingly walkable, crazy streets aside. I managed to cover the north end of the island by lunchtime and accidentally found the train station. Then I covered the second half by dinner. You only need a ride by the water taxis, bus, etc if you are carrying too many bags or you just want a break from the narrow walkways.
6. Americans, Brits, Aussies, etc outnumber the Venetians by far. I heard more English today than I have in over a week.
7. You can bargain anything.
8. Be willing to embrace the unexpected. It's the best part of traveling. This point goes beyond Venice. Story: This afternoon I took Cynthia's advice and took one of the shuttles to Hotel Cipriani on Giudecca to see the gardens. On the boat was a gentleman in his 80's in a 3 piece suit with a cane. When we arrived, I went exploring and came upon the pool. (Hotel Cipriani is gorgeous and very ritzy, by the way. Worth the trip.) The gentleman crossed my path again. This time he apologized for not greeting me on the boat and invited me to afternoon tea. He's Welshman also visiting alone. I accepted and we sat by the pool and enjoyed a lovely conversation. He worked for the BBC for years and told me all about his travels and the times he visited the US for the Oscars, where he met Alan Ladd, Jack Palance and Sir Anthony Hopkins (before he was a star). He was fascinating. Turns out he even has family in Walnut Creek, which he assumed was a small village lined with walnut groves. I had to set him straight. But it was such a highlight of the day- sitting by the pool, looking at Venice across the water, enjoying tea with a man I never would have met otherwise. Embrace the unexpected.
9. Strawberry gelato: A+++
10. Spaghetti carbonara: A+++
11. Don't be worried about buying too much. They have incredible leather bags here for sale! Perfect for the trip home.
12. While yes, Venice is expensive, it's not outrageous. Nothing I haven't seen in LA. Actually it's better because if you just walk to a quieter area on the island, you'll find the exact same thing you wanted for a few Euro cheaper. Doing that in LA requires a car and at least a hour in traffic.
13. Getting lost is half the fun.
And that's my Venice wrap up! Any questions?
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Wednesday, June 2, 2010
A Day of Indulgence
Day 11
Venice, Italy
Reading: All Together Dead by Charlaine Harris
Songs on repeat: Rodrigo y Gabriela
Venice, Italy
Reading: All Together Dead by Charlaine Harris
Songs on repeat: Rodrigo y Gabriela
That's it. I'm getting rid of all the clothes I brought with me. I'm not attached to any of them and after walking Venice tonite, I have no room for them. From the window shopping, I'm pretty sure I'm getting a whole new wardrobe. I haven't seen much yet but what I have seen is shop after shop of the prettiest damn things you ever saw.
I crept out of Barcelona early this morning. I got a great deal on my flight and today I found out why. The Spanish version of match.com had reserved almost the whole plane for a 2010 version of the Love Boat. I was surrounded by heart-shaped name tags and very excited singles, all headed to the City of Love. Miguel from Amarante had warned me Venice was for lovers. ("Psssh...Sarita, you cannot travel to Venice alone! It is for lovers. All you will see will be couples hand in hand and you will have tear.") Not to contradict Miguel, or disappoint the Love Boaters, but it feels good to be on my own for a minute to breathe. Even in Barcelona I was on the go with people. While this would be a good, different experience with someone, it feels good not to have to talk for a while.
Although I could have used a compadre to get to my B&B. This city requires the buddy system. It's impossible to not get lost. It's just one skinny, unmarked alleyway after another that they have the nerve to call streets. Some aren't even on maps. There's no rhyme or reason or pattern. Identical alleyways just twist off in every direction. It's overwhelming. My GPS can't keep up.
Opposite of Portugal and Barcelona, here I'm all alone in this 3 story B&B. There's no staff and it's eerily quiet. I have the whole top floor to myself. Total shift from how I have been going. Taking advantage of the space and quiet while I can. It started to rain as soon as I got in, which was lovely to watch from my balcony as it rained on the gray twisting streets. I took it as a sign from the gods to continue with my slow mind frame and took a nice long nap.
The nap led into a day of indulgence. That sweet nap put me in a great mood. I took a long hot shower and took my time getting into the evening. I've been pretty frugal so far. This is a budget trip and I want what I have to last. But Venice is a city of enjoyment and I want to enjoy while I can. I wandered into a shop and bought a few necklaces. Found an adorable confectioners bar. That's what I call it. A candy and pastry shop with alcohol. Picked out a chocolate truffle cake roll thing and a whipped cream puff with fresh rasberries for tomorrow. Then I splurged on a huge pasta dinner to celebrate my day. I sat in the courtyard of the osteria with a glass of red wine, finishing my book, and enjoyed a salmon salad with rocket and this indescribable ravioli dish with ricotta and butter sauce. Italy goal #1 down: enjoy some authentic pasta.
I somehow stumbled on to St. Mark's Square. During the day it's supposed to be choas but at night it's calm and romantic. The square is lit up and people can sit at the cafes and drink tea. The dueling orchestras play and there are couples dancing in the open square. These two little boys with umbrellas were running across the courtyard and weaving in and out of the dancers. It had stopped raining and the evening was cool.
I sat on the steps, leaned back and listened to the orchestras play. Sitting there, savoring the peace, I was suddenly staggered with a feeling of missing my dad. He would have loved that moment. That was his kind of moment, sitting and indulging in some peace in a place frozen in time. He appreciated moments like that more than any other. I was so struck by feeling him right then, I had tears. It wasn't a sad moment though. It was knowing that he was there with me, in that spot, looking over the square and listening to the music and feeling whole. I felt him so much right then.
Because I knew it's what he would do, I got out my pastries and indulged. I ate both of them and enjoyed.
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Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Barcelona: The Spanish New York
Day 10
Barcelona, Spain
Reading: Catcher in the Rye
Songs on repeat: Barcelona street music
The title of this entry really should be "Barcelona: The Spanish New York in Tim Burton's Dreams." You can see the influence of Gaudi everywhere. And Gaudi was one crazy guy. Some of the buildings are so whimsical and gothic, it's living inside a Tim Burton film. I wouldn't be surprised if one of Burton`s influences is Gaudi. Parc Guell is a perfect example.
When I arrived yesterday, I really wasn't sure what to expect. Just making it to the hostel was a major achievement in my book. Before I had even put away my bag, I met a couple of my Irish bunkmates and went straight to the beach. Within a hour of arriving, I had a beer in hand, sitting in the sand, getting a massage from the mobile massuers who walk along the beach. And in honor of Memorial Day, we found a few Americans on the beach playing American football. Trying to explain the basic rules to two Irishmen got a bit tricky. Rugby really doesn't translate.
Barcelona so far has really reminded me of New York. Just with better architecture. And a beach. It´s got that same energetic vibe. We even had pizza for dinner. Granted, it was Spanish pizza with some kind of incredible sauce, lovely gargonzola cheese and rocket lettuce (yeah, I didn't know what that was either) but I felt at home. In staying with the Barcelonian style, I chugged 3 Red Bulls at midnight with my new pals from the hostel and we hit a few of the bars. Most of the bars are tucked in little corners in the Gothic Quarter, so you're walking through these narrow dark alleyways that look trecherous, but young people are everywhere. When the early bars close, the "secret bars" and polo clubs open up. My Irish friends knew a secret knock at an unmarked doorway. After you make it up 3 flights of stairs, suddenly a door opens and the place is packed with late nighters. I'm not much of a late night drinker, so at this point I was crashing, but well worth the experience.
Had one of those "Wow, this world really is incredibly, impossibly small" moments at the hostel. One of the bunkmates is not only from LA, he lives three blocks from me in Studio City. Of all the hostels in all the world....so funny. It's nice to have someone around who is familiar with my world, even if he is a stranger. Today we explored Barcelona with one of the Irish men. Walked up and down Las Ramblas, which reminded me of a better version of the Farmer's Market and 3rd St Promenade. We accidentally found the Barcelona Cathedral (gorgeous) and spent a few hours playing Parc Guell. The Parc is covered in these colorful mosaic sculptures and walkways. Gaudi spent 20 years living in the Parc and his house is still there. It's way up a hill but has the most incredible view of all of Barcelona. Then we squeezed in pictures at La Sagranda Familia, which I can't even accurately describe. Just...wow. The first time I wished I had a better camera. My camera just doesn't do it justice. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sagrada_Família
Pretty satisfied I got the big stuff in and can just rest easy tonite. I don't have it in me to do another late night like that. The combo of Red Bull and being bathed in cigarette smoke all night made me feel like I was hungover all morning, even though I wasn't. My flight to Venice is in the morning, so I think I'll snag a few people from the hostel and go to a tapas place one of the guides in Portugal recommended. And I can always do a little shopping, although I think at this point, my purchases have outweighed what I got rid of in Amarante.
On to Venice!
Barcelona, Spain
Reading: Catcher in the Rye
Songs on repeat: Barcelona street music
The title of this entry really should be "Barcelona: The Spanish New York in Tim Burton's Dreams." You can see the influence of Gaudi everywhere. And Gaudi was one crazy guy. Some of the buildings are so whimsical and gothic, it's living inside a Tim Burton film. I wouldn't be surprised if one of Burton`s influences is Gaudi. Parc Guell is a perfect example.
When I arrived yesterday, I really wasn't sure what to expect. Just making it to the hostel was a major achievement in my book. Before I had even put away my bag, I met a couple of my Irish bunkmates and went straight to the beach. Within a hour of arriving, I had a beer in hand, sitting in the sand, getting a massage from the mobile massuers who walk along the beach. And in honor of Memorial Day, we found a few Americans on the beach playing American football. Trying to explain the basic rules to two Irishmen got a bit tricky. Rugby really doesn't translate.
Barcelona so far has really reminded me of New York. Just with better architecture. And a beach. It´s got that same energetic vibe. We even had pizza for dinner. Granted, it was Spanish pizza with some kind of incredible sauce, lovely gargonzola cheese and rocket lettuce (yeah, I didn't know what that was either) but I felt at home. In staying with the Barcelonian style, I chugged 3 Red Bulls at midnight with my new pals from the hostel and we hit a few of the bars. Most of the bars are tucked in little corners in the Gothic Quarter, so you're walking through these narrow dark alleyways that look trecherous, but young people are everywhere. When the early bars close, the "secret bars" and polo clubs open up. My Irish friends knew a secret knock at an unmarked doorway. After you make it up 3 flights of stairs, suddenly a door opens and the place is packed with late nighters. I'm not much of a late night drinker, so at this point I was crashing, but well worth the experience.
Had one of those "Wow, this world really is incredibly, impossibly small" moments at the hostel. One of the bunkmates is not only from LA, he lives three blocks from me in Studio City. Of all the hostels in all the world....so funny. It's nice to have someone around who is familiar with my world, even if he is a stranger. Today we explored Barcelona with one of the Irish men. Walked up and down Las Ramblas, which reminded me of a better version of the Farmer's Market and 3rd St Promenade. We accidentally found the Barcelona Cathedral (gorgeous) and spent a few hours playing Parc Guell. The Parc is covered in these colorful mosaic sculptures and walkways. Gaudi spent 20 years living in the Parc and his house is still there. It's way up a hill but has the most incredible view of all of Barcelona. Then we squeezed in pictures at La Sagranda Familia, which I can't even accurately describe. Just...wow. The first time I wished I had a better camera. My camera just doesn't do it justice. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sagrada_Família
Pretty satisfied I got the big stuff in and can just rest easy tonite. I don't have it in me to do another late night like that. The combo of Red Bull and being bathed in cigarette smoke all night made me feel like I was hungover all morning, even though I wasn't. My flight to Venice is in the morning, so I think I'll snag a few people from the hostel and go to a tapas place one of the guides in Portugal recommended. And I can always do a little shopping, although I think at this point, my purchases have outweighed what I got rid of in Amarante.
On to Venice!
Monday, May 31, 2010
Good-bye Cement, Hello Pavement
Day 9
Porto, Portugal
Reading: Catcher in the Rye
Songs on Repeat: Chris Pierce "Change Yourself"
I got all the cement out of my hair and ears. I donated a pair of jeans that could walk themselves to the site after a week of building. Got a disc of over 500 pics from everyone. Said good-bye (tearfully) to the group and our local friends. Getting ready to board a plane to Barcelona.
Our last day in Porto was pure tourism. It was a shift from the quiet we had been used to. Porto is the second largest city in Portugal and the birthplace of port wine. We walked for hours, had a long lunch, visited Croft to sample some ports, picked up Portugal souvenirs. I'm not the greatest shopper, I've discovered. I got a few things but anybody expecting souvenirs might be disappointed. (I hope not.) After dinner, Melissa, Carolyn, Steve and I sat at a cafe by the river, shared pitchers of sangria and watched it get dark. We played Bullshit and danced by the water. By the time we got back through Porto's crumbling winding streets up to our hotel, we only had a few hours until we had to leave for the airport. But at that point, no one cared.
I am ready to set my own pace for a while. But I didn't anticipate how sad it would be to leave here. This week surpassed my expectations in all ways. To quote Melissa, "It's a powerful feeling to laugh with strangers." There was a lot of laughing this week. I love this country. I love how much pride its people have in it. I'll miss Amarante. But I know I'll be back. I feel like I just got the first course of Portugal and soon I'll be back for the main course. I want to tour Braga and Porto more and take a wine trip through the Douro Valley. Who's coming next trip?
Excited to see Barcelona. The only way I can really enjoy what I'm doing is to focus on one place at a time. I got tips from our group on the best spots to go and I'll see what happens when I get there. Trading buckets and cement for sidewalks and new sights.
Not sure when I'll find an internet cafe so I'm updating from my phone. Crossed fingers this works.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
Porto, Portugal
Reading: Catcher in the Rye
Songs on Repeat: Chris Pierce "Change Yourself"
I got all the cement out of my hair and ears. I donated a pair of jeans that could walk themselves to the site after a week of building. Got a disc of over 500 pics from everyone. Said good-bye (tearfully) to the group and our local friends. Getting ready to board a plane to Barcelona.
Our last day in Porto was pure tourism. It was a shift from the quiet we had been used to. Porto is the second largest city in Portugal and the birthplace of port wine. We walked for hours, had a long lunch, visited Croft to sample some ports, picked up Portugal souvenirs. I'm not the greatest shopper, I've discovered. I got a few things but anybody expecting souvenirs might be disappointed. (I hope not.) After dinner, Melissa, Carolyn, Steve and I sat at a cafe by the river, shared pitchers of sangria and watched it get dark. We played Bullshit and danced by the water. By the time we got back through Porto's crumbling winding streets up to our hotel, we only had a few hours until we had to leave for the airport. But at that point, no one cared.
I am ready to set my own pace for a while. But I didn't anticipate how sad it would be to leave here. This week surpassed my expectations in all ways. To quote Melissa, "It's a powerful feeling to laugh with strangers." There was a lot of laughing this week. I love this country. I love how much pride its people have in it. I'll miss Amarante. But I know I'll be back. I feel like I just got the first course of Portugal and soon I'll be back for the main course. I want to tour Braga and Porto more and take a wine trip through the Douro Valley. Who's coming next trip?
Excited to see Barcelona. The only way I can really enjoy what I'm doing is to focus on one place at a time. I got tips from our group on the best spots to go and I'll see what happens when I get there. Trading buckets and cement for sidewalks and new sights.
Not sure when I'll find an internet cafe so I'm updating from my phone. Crossed fingers this works.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
Friday, May 28, 2010
The Habitat Workout Plan
May 28
Amarante, Portugal
Reading: Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Songs on repeat: Whistle While You Work from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
The Habitat Exercise Plan
Weight Training
Bucket swinging: Using buckets filled with 7-10 pounds of cement, pass to partner in assembly line fashion. Use biceps, forearms, shoulders and trapezius muscles. Repeat for 3 hours.
Beam filling: Use same buckets to pour cement into rebarb lined beams. Using gluts, biceps, and shoulders, lift bucket overhead and pour until bucket is empty. Repeat for 3 hours.
Passing the bucket: Using stairs and scaffolding, pass cement-filled buckets back and forth down assembly line. Use legs, not back, to lift bucket. Use shoulders to keep bucket steady when passing upwards. Repeat for 3 hours.
Rest: Pass empty buckets back down stairs. Do as needed.
Cement making: Fill buckets with assorted rocks, sand and mix using shovel or hands, as convenient. Focus on gluts, inner thighs and shoulders.
Cardio
Carrying buckets (either cement or rock filled will work) run up and down 15 steps repeatedly.
Balance and Flexibility
Focusing on proper form, balance filled buckets and walk carefully across scaffolding or wooden beams. Use core to balance.
Break at lunch
Repeat entire routine for another 4 hours. For added difficulty, use cement-crusted gloves and pants for resistance.
* * * * *
I came up with a new book idea. "The Philanthropy Workout". Highlighting volunteer jobs that include manual labor, it would be a book that shows you best techniques to use, which volunteer jobs work what body parts, how to pick the volunteer job that fits into your workout schedule and where to find them. I´m kinda excited. If I can structure it right, I think it´ll work. (Need to figure out how to copyright or pitch asap before someone takes the idea, since I´m putting it out there on the interwebs. Attn stealers: this idea is copyrighted me.)
Keeping in theme with the fitness title, I realized today that I have taken a lot of pictures of meals and bottles of wine. This is for a few reasons. 1) Food and wine make me very happy. 2) Sampling new things are a huge part of my "out of my comfort zone" mission. Hence, pictures of meals and wine bottles to remind me of what I´ve tried the last 6 days.
I´ve lost track of the number of wines we´ve tried. There is a local type called green wine. It´s not actually green and there are red or white varieties. It feels thinner than the wine I´m used to, but the locals really enjoy it.
I´m a big fan of the local chocolate. We´ve had chocolate mousse after almost every meal. Not just typical chocolate mousse. This is rich, decadent, velvety, enticing, mouth-melting, real cocoa mousse. I can´t get enough. The kind we had tonite tasted like brownie batter that had just been whipped and sculpted into the dish. I would feel guilty after polishing off my 3rd or 4th mousse in as many nights, but with the workout plan from above, my guilt suddenly disappears.
Tomorrow is our last day of the build and I´m really sad to go. Besides splitting from the team, there are some incredible locals that I will be sad to leave. I already know I´m returning to Portugal soon and will have the best tour guides on hand. Amarante is such a cute, fun town. It´s quiet but you can feel how close knit the people are. They have so much pride and care about their town. It´s inspiring to see. I can see myself visiting here often.
Boa noite!
Amarante, Portugal
Reading: Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Songs on repeat: Whistle While You Work from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
The Habitat Exercise Plan
Weight Training
Bucket swinging: Using buckets filled with 7-10 pounds of cement, pass to partner in assembly line fashion. Use biceps, forearms, shoulders and trapezius muscles. Repeat for 3 hours.
Beam filling: Use same buckets to pour cement into rebarb lined beams. Using gluts, biceps, and shoulders, lift bucket overhead and pour until bucket is empty. Repeat for 3 hours.
Passing the bucket: Using stairs and scaffolding, pass cement-filled buckets back and forth down assembly line. Use legs, not back, to lift bucket. Use shoulders to keep bucket steady when passing upwards. Repeat for 3 hours.
Rest: Pass empty buckets back down stairs. Do as needed.
Cement making: Fill buckets with assorted rocks, sand and mix using shovel or hands, as convenient. Focus on gluts, inner thighs and shoulders.
Cardio
Carrying buckets (either cement or rock filled will work) run up and down 15 steps repeatedly.
Balance and Flexibility
Focusing on proper form, balance filled buckets and walk carefully across scaffolding or wooden beams. Use core to balance.
Break at lunch
Repeat entire routine for another 4 hours. For added difficulty, use cement-crusted gloves and pants for resistance.
* * * * *
I came up with a new book idea. "The Philanthropy Workout". Highlighting volunteer jobs that include manual labor, it would be a book that shows you best techniques to use, which volunteer jobs work what body parts, how to pick the volunteer job that fits into your workout schedule and where to find them. I´m kinda excited. If I can structure it right, I think it´ll work. (Need to figure out how to copyright or pitch asap before someone takes the idea, since I´m putting it out there on the interwebs. Attn stealers: this idea is copyrighted me.)
Keeping in theme with the fitness title, I realized today that I have taken a lot of pictures of meals and bottles of wine. This is for a few reasons. 1) Food and wine make me very happy. 2) Sampling new things are a huge part of my "out of my comfort zone" mission. Hence, pictures of meals and wine bottles to remind me of what I´ve tried the last 6 days.
I´ve lost track of the number of wines we´ve tried. There is a local type called green wine. It´s not actually green and there are red or white varieties. It feels thinner than the wine I´m used to, but the locals really enjoy it.
I´m a big fan of the local chocolate. We´ve had chocolate mousse after almost every meal. Not just typical chocolate mousse. This is rich, decadent, velvety, enticing, mouth-melting, real cocoa mousse. I can´t get enough. The kind we had tonite tasted like brownie batter that had just been whipped and sculpted into the dish. I would feel guilty after polishing off my 3rd or 4th mousse in as many nights, but with the workout plan from above, my guilt suddenly disappears.
Tomorrow is our last day of the build and I´m really sad to go. Besides splitting from the team, there are some incredible locals that I will be sad to leave. I already know I´m returning to Portugal soon and will have the best tour guides on hand. Amarante is such a cute, fun town. It´s quiet but you can feel how close knit the people are. They have so much pride and care about their town. It´s inspiring to see. I can see myself visiting here often.
Boa noite!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Gia...Jia....oh forget it.
Day 5
Braga and Guimarães, Portugal
Reading: Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Songs on repeat: pretty much anything Lady Gaga
Every team needs a break and ours came right in time. We hit a good place in building and part of the schedule is a day off. The whole team needed a shift to keep our momentum going. Today our local tour guys, Alfredo and Miguel, drove us into Guimarães, which is about 30 minutes away. Don´t ask me to pronounce correctly. I tried constantly through the day and Miguel just cracked up everytime. It´s something like Gui-a-mar-esh.
Guimarães is reportedly the first city of Portgual, where the first king took throne and conquered the rest of the area that is still Portugal. We started at the ruins of his first castle, which is really just a huge courtyard with a keep and moss-covered walls. We showed up right as busloads of schoolchildren arrived for field trips. Florescent orange hats everywhere. From there, they walked us through the rest of the city center and a palace that was used by the royal family up until about 200 years ago. So you know, a young palace.
While there wasn´t anything exceptionally remarkable about the places we saw (other than the beauty of these places), I always geek out at spots like that. Maybe it came from my dad, but I´m a bit of a history nerd. When you´re walking though a palace, you can see the tapestries from the era, maybe pieces of art they´ve strategically placed or furniture that "might" have been from the time. It all looks staged, like a museum. But if you step through the right doorway and are paying attention, the energy can just knock you over. You get to walk through hallways that have been used for hundreds of years. You look up at ceiling that have been handpainted by artisans ordered by monarchs. At some time, that place had a use. If you step right, you can feel it. Another soul walked through there and called it home. It just amazes me.
Ok, geeking out aside, the day was fun. Miguel has a quirky sense of humor and a good command of English. He gave us a brief story on how the first king took over and someone asked when Portugal became a republic instead of a monarchy. It was only in the last 100 years. She asked how it happened and he shrugged and brushed his hands together. "Pssh....It was very easy. We killed them." Air gun pointed at us. "Two shots, one for father, one for son. No more descendents. No more kings. Very easy. We win."
Walking through the center square was like walking through Fantasyland at Disneyland. Quaint buildings paired together, hugging each other with banners and laundry hung from all balconies. All the homes and business look exactly as they have the last 500 years. Miguel explained that anyone who resides in them is ordered to by law to restore them using the exact same practices as the original builders. They are not permitted to update the techniques or materials. So the town preserves its original look and feel. Portugal is a country that holds its traditions and history very dear. The downside is, it´s beyond expensive to do that, so most of the places stand empty for years.
We hiked a bit up to Bom Jesus, an incredible preserved church at the top of a mountian. I don´t know if I have the words or wits about me at the moment to describe accurately right now. Thank God for my camera. It´s stuck on top of this mountain with a lush forest on all sides that reminded me a lot of the higher regions of the Sierra Nevadas. How the hell did they get it up there? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bom_Jesus_do_Monte
We went into Braga then, and I´m actually bummed we didn´t get much time there. Hundreds of years ago, Braga was the capital of Roman occupancy for the region. They are mid a festival celebrating the Romans, so all over the streets there are carts, stands, bands and people just roaming dressed in Roman costume. It´s a massive toga party. Unfortunately, it was already late so we only got about 30 minutes there. Enough time to see a few of the cafes and the original library. (There I go geeking out again.) I definitely want to see Braga again. A reason to come back to Portugal.
We have 2 days left on the build, then one in Porto before we all part ways. It seems unreal that it´s gone so fast. I´m looking forward to the next leg of my trip and being able to plan my own schedule. We´re on the move constantly. But I´m going to miss a lot of this country. It´s been incredible so far.
Braga and Guimarães, Portugal
Reading: Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Songs on repeat: pretty much anything Lady Gaga
Every team needs a break and ours came right in time. We hit a good place in building and part of the schedule is a day off. The whole team needed a shift to keep our momentum going. Today our local tour guys, Alfredo and Miguel, drove us into Guimarães, which is about 30 minutes away. Don´t ask me to pronounce correctly. I tried constantly through the day and Miguel just cracked up everytime. It´s something like Gui-a-mar-esh.
Guimarães is reportedly the first city of Portgual, where the first king took throne and conquered the rest of the area that is still Portugal. We started at the ruins of his first castle, which is really just a huge courtyard with a keep and moss-covered walls. We showed up right as busloads of schoolchildren arrived for field trips. Florescent orange hats everywhere. From there, they walked us through the rest of the city center and a palace that was used by the royal family up until about 200 years ago. So you know, a young palace.
While there wasn´t anything exceptionally remarkable about the places we saw (other than the beauty of these places), I always geek out at spots like that. Maybe it came from my dad, but I´m a bit of a history nerd. When you´re walking though a palace, you can see the tapestries from the era, maybe pieces of art they´ve strategically placed or furniture that "might" have been from the time. It all looks staged, like a museum. But if you step through the right doorway and are paying attention, the energy can just knock you over. You get to walk through hallways that have been used for hundreds of years. You look up at ceiling that have been handpainted by artisans ordered by monarchs. At some time, that place had a use. If you step right, you can feel it. Another soul walked through there and called it home. It just amazes me.
Ok, geeking out aside, the day was fun. Miguel has a quirky sense of humor and a good command of English. He gave us a brief story on how the first king took over and someone asked when Portugal became a republic instead of a monarchy. It was only in the last 100 years. She asked how it happened and he shrugged and brushed his hands together. "Pssh....It was very easy. We killed them." Air gun pointed at us. "Two shots, one for father, one for son. No more descendents. No more kings. Very easy. We win."
Walking through the center square was like walking through Fantasyland at Disneyland. Quaint buildings paired together, hugging each other with banners and laundry hung from all balconies. All the homes and business look exactly as they have the last 500 years. Miguel explained that anyone who resides in them is ordered to by law to restore them using the exact same practices as the original builders. They are not permitted to update the techniques or materials. So the town preserves its original look and feel. Portugal is a country that holds its traditions and history very dear. The downside is, it´s beyond expensive to do that, so most of the places stand empty for years.
We hiked a bit up to Bom Jesus, an incredible preserved church at the top of a mountian. I don´t know if I have the words or wits about me at the moment to describe accurately right now. Thank God for my camera. It´s stuck on top of this mountain with a lush forest on all sides that reminded me a lot of the higher regions of the Sierra Nevadas. How the hell did they get it up there? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bom_Jesus_do_Monte
We went into Braga then, and I´m actually bummed we didn´t get much time there. Hundreds of years ago, Braga was the capital of Roman occupancy for the region. They are mid a festival celebrating the Romans, so all over the streets there are carts, stands, bands and people just roaming dressed in Roman costume. It´s a massive toga party. Unfortunately, it was already late so we only got about 30 minutes there. Enough time to see a few of the cafes and the original library. (There I go geeking out again.) I definitely want to see Braga again. A reason to come back to Portugal.
We have 2 days left on the build, then one in Porto before we all part ways. It seems unreal that it´s gone so fast. I´m looking forward to the next leg of my trip and being able to plan my own schedule. We´re on the move constantly. But I´m going to miss a lot of this country. It´s been incredible so far.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Icing brick layer cake
May 25
Reading: Catcher In the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Songs on repeat: Disney medley sung by brick laying crew
I´m beyond tired tonite so don´t know how coherent this update will be. It was rainy and cold, which added a degree of difficulty. We worked on site all day, mainly getting the bricks for the outer walls up. This is not exciting work, but there is a precision to it. I have a whole new respect for people who do construction professionally. We´re working with a team of local construction workers, who I think are donating their time and supplies. I´m not sure, as none of them speak English. Could tell they were starting to get a little frustrated with us. Little disheartening to work on laying bricks and painstakenly ice the cement in between the layers, only to have one of them come over, shake his head, then take down all your bricks, scrape the cement off and put it up again in a quarter of the time. But by the end of the day, we got the hang of it.
Besides working on the site, I did a little (very little) shopping with a few of the girls and then we had dinner at the local youth center. Alfredo, I learned, works with the youth center and the center works with Habitat, which is why he´s been driving us and providing lunches. It´s the only location in town that has an all vegetarian menu. Lucky for me, seitain with cheese melted on top is delicious.
Our team had low energy today. Must have been a combo of the cold and rain. Hoping for a more upbeat, energetic team tomorrow.
I realized I haven´t said much about the team, who I´m really starting to appreciate.
Erick- the team lead and an old friend of mine from high school. He´s the one who told me about Habitat.
Janet-a project manager from Boston. This is also her first Habitat build.
Rosa-I haven´t spoken much with Rosa yet but I know she lives in DC and works in diversity. I learned tonite she has 4 grandchildren, even though she looks about 35.
Lillith-pronounced "Ly-lith." She works for Butler University in Indiana on medical research in gene therapy. Some of the work she does is on the foreground of cures to cancer and Parkinson´s disease. She´s fascinating to talk to and has run over 12 marathons.
Steve-a documentary photographer/videographer. He is documenting every minute of the trip and I´m a little scared of what he´s been catching of everyone when we´re not watching. You can´t go 2 feet without his camera aimed at you.
Dan-From Portland, OR, Dan is a tech designer for pacemakers and other heart machines. Very interesting to know that if you have a pace maker, it´s probably because Dan designed some part of it.
Melissa- aka "Frik", a college sophomore from NY, who goes to GW University.
Carolyn- aka "Frak", a college sophomore from NY, who goes to a school in PA. She and Melissa have been best friends since they were kids and they are hilarious together. Carolyn is also my roommate.
Samantha-Just graduated from USC.
Holly-works at Augusta State University in GA as the VP of International Studies. She has been and lived literally all over the world. If you can think of a country, she´s been there.
I don´t know a great deal about our local crew, but there is:
João- the local Habitat for Humanity coordinator
Paolo-the build arcitect who I think works for Habitat as a job now. He´s also very handsome and every girl has a massive crush on him.
Alfredo-our man about town who helps with everything. He works for the local youth center.
Vielo-I believe he is the construction crew leader, although it´s hard to tell. He reminds me a little of my grandfather for some reason, although they look nothing alike. Maybe it´s something about his eyes. I introduced myself to him when he was sighing over my brick work and now apparently, I´m his personal assistant on site. I think he just likes that he can understand and pronounce my name and yell it across the site.
Carlos-one of our construction guys. Day one I worked on rebar with him. He would show me what to do and I would give him a thumbs up to show I understood. That, apparently, was hilarious to him, and now he gives me a thumbs up whenever he sees me, no matter what I´m working on.
There are two or three other construction guys I am slowly getting to know. One was laughing at me when I couldn´t scale the scaffolding like a monkey the way he did.
As we worked today, one thing struck me. I´ve been involed with non-profits for a long time. I like staying active. I´ve volunteered with Families of Spinal Muscular Atrophy, Girl Scouts, Young Storytellers and a few others I can´t remember right now. But they have always been local. What struck me was how many walks of life have lead us all to this place, this build. We´re all so different, but still we are all working on the same thing. Working on something like this makes you realize that a unifier of the human spirit is our desire to help. We´ve all come together and put aside our own lives, troubles and agendas to achieve something. It´s an empowering feeling.
That´s as coherent as I can be tonite. Boa Noite.
Reading: Catcher In the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Songs on repeat: Disney medley sung by brick laying crew
I´m beyond tired tonite so don´t know how coherent this update will be. It was rainy and cold, which added a degree of difficulty. We worked on site all day, mainly getting the bricks for the outer walls up. This is not exciting work, but there is a precision to it. I have a whole new respect for people who do construction professionally. We´re working with a team of local construction workers, who I think are donating their time and supplies. I´m not sure, as none of them speak English. Could tell they were starting to get a little frustrated with us. Little disheartening to work on laying bricks and painstakenly ice the cement in between the layers, only to have one of them come over, shake his head, then take down all your bricks, scrape the cement off and put it up again in a quarter of the time. But by the end of the day, we got the hang of it.
Besides working on the site, I did a little (very little) shopping with a few of the girls and then we had dinner at the local youth center. Alfredo, I learned, works with the youth center and the center works with Habitat, which is why he´s been driving us and providing lunches. It´s the only location in town that has an all vegetarian menu. Lucky for me, seitain with cheese melted on top is delicious.
Our team had low energy today. Must have been a combo of the cold and rain. Hoping for a more upbeat, energetic team tomorrow.
I realized I haven´t said much about the team, who I´m really starting to appreciate.
Erick- the team lead and an old friend of mine from high school. He´s the one who told me about Habitat.
Janet-a project manager from Boston. This is also her first Habitat build.
Rosa-I haven´t spoken much with Rosa yet but I know she lives in DC and works in diversity. I learned tonite she has 4 grandchildren, even though she looks about 35.
Lillith-pronounced "Ly-lith." She works for Butler University in Indiana on medical research in gene therapy. Some of the work she does is on the foreground of cures to cancer and Parkinson´s disease. She´s fascinating to talk to and has run over 12 marathons.
Steve-a documentary photographer/videographer. He is documenting every minute of the trip and I´m a little scared of what he´s been catching of everyone when we´re not watching. You can´t go 2 feet without his camera aimed at you.
Dan-From Portland, OR, Dan is a tech designer for pacemakers and other heart machines. Very interesting to know that if you have a pace maker, it´s probably because Dan designed some part of it.
Melissa- aka "Frik", a college sophomore from NY, who goes to GW University.
Carolyn- aka "Frak", a college sophomore from NY, who goes to a school in PA. She and Melissa have been best friends since they were kids and they are hilarious together. Carolyn is also my roommate.
Samantha-Just graduated from USC.
Holly-works at Augusta State University in GA as the VP of International Studies. She has been and lived literally all over the world. If you can think of a country, she´s been there.
I don´t know a great deal about our local crew, but there is:
João- the local Habitat for Humanity coordinator
Paolo-the build arcitect who I think works for Habitat as a job now. He´s also very handsome and every girl has a massive crush on him.
Alfredo-our man about town who helps with everything. He works for the local youth center.
Vielo-I believe he is the construction crew leader, although it´s hard to tell. He reminds me a little of my grandfather for some reason, although they look nothing alike. Maybe it´s something about his eyes. I introduced myself to him when he was sighing over my brick work and now apparently, I´m his personal assistant on site. I think he just likes that he can understand and pronounce my name and yell it across the site.
Carlos-one of our construction guys. Day one I worked on rebar with him. He would show me what to do and I would give him a thumbs up to show I understood. That, apparently, was hilarious to him, and now he gives me a thumbs up whenever he sees me, no matter what I´m working on.
There are two or three other construction guys I am slowly getting to know. One was laughing at me when I couldn´t scale the scaffolding like a monkey the way he did.
As we worked today, one thing struck me. I´ve been involed with non-profits for a long time. I like staying active. I´ve volunteered with Families of Spinal Muscular Atrophy, Girl Scouts, Young Storytellers and a few others I can´t remember right now. But they have always been local. What struck me was how many walks of life have lead us all to this place, this build. We´re all so different, but still we are all working on the same thing. Working on something like this makes you realize that a unifier of the human spirit is our desire to help. We´ve all come together and put aside our own lives, troubles and agendas to achieve something. It´s an empowering feeling.
That´s as coherent as I can be tonite. Boa Noite.
Monday, May 24, 2010
A Dog Named Creepy
May 24
Amarante, Portugal
Reading: Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger
Songs on repeat: Bonjour from Beauty and the Beast
Forget what I said about Amarane being a village. It´s a metropolis compared to our build site. Ok, maybe it´s a town. The area we are building in, which I can neither pronouce or spell, is really just a mountain road with very old, derelict houses and shacks. There is really nothing up there but the view. (Which is breathtaking.) I´m tempted to carry a notepad and paper and have our local guides write things down any time they answer my questions about the area.
Portuguese is a hard language. It´s a blend of Spanish, French and Romanian. I haven´t worked up the courage to really say anything but "Obrigado." (Thank you.) Anything I have tried just ends up as a Spanish/Portuguese/English hybrid and the locals either laugh or stare. They really don´t know what to do with us yet.
The build went a lot better than I expected. Some of the experienced GV members told me horror stories (or maybe pride stories) of Habitat builds with no water, balancing over scaffolding off cliffs and mixing cement by hand. Our is in a pverty stricken area but we have electricity and a cement mixer. Posh.
Very little time to go over anything before we dove in. We´re rebuilding on the old house´s location so at least it´s not from scratch. A fair chunk of the outer walls made it up today. I spent most of the day working with rebar. (No idea if I spelled that right.) Basically we were bending and securing iron beams that supports the corners and ceiling. Thank God for leather gloves. I would have been shredded to pieces by 9:30am without them. Got a good layer of rust dust from head to toe.
One of the best parts about the Habitat crew is the kindness of the team. Our lunch was made by Alfredo´s family. I´m not exactly sure what Alfredo does, but so far he has been our driver, built on site and he brought us lunch. And his brother owns a bar across from the hotel. Lunch was a fantastic filling pasta salad with eggs, olives, tomatos, peppers, cheese, cashews, sardines, zucchini and a few things I didn´t recognize. Like I said, no questions.
After lunch we walked up the mountain to a tiny cafe for cha and cafe. It´s run by an ancient couple with huge smiles. It looked like we had been their first customers in about 15 years. As we laughed and relaxed in the courtyard, a tiny dog snuck over to investigate us. He let some of the girls get close but was skittish around the guys. I named him Creepy for the way he crept around the yard, going from spot to spot without letting anyone touch him. Any loud conversatin would send him under the stairs. He liked me and chilled at my side for a while. The old woman who ran the cafe came running out and started gesturing and speaking loud Portuguese. Through pantomime I guessed he was her dog and he lived at the cafe. Afterwards, her husband led us through their garden vineyard and chicken coops as a short cut back to the site.
Evertyhing I´ve seen so far of Portugal is a strange mix of modern and provincial. The house next to the site had a woman scrubbing and banging her wash in a stone basin. But then she answered a cell. I am trying to picture what day to day life is like, but it´s hard to do. I´m used to comfort and gratification, especially when it comes to wear I live. It´s an education to see what other cultures regard as normal.
The build went well and I didn´t even get sunburned. Just some rosy cheeks.
As we left the build and were coming down the mountain, I realized how relaxed I was. Even after 2 days of annoying travel and a hard build today. I feel great. That got me thinking on why I am so tense all the time, and if it´s my lifestyle that makes me so tense. Why do I choose to live in LA, around all the choas and panicked energy and traffic, when it makes me crazy? But when I picture living anywhere but LA, I feel hollow. I know if I left LA, I´d feel like there was something missing. I know I won´t always feel that way. Someday I´ll probably want to live somwhere else and have a different lifestyle. But it feels good to know that my life and the way I live it are by choice and are a part of me. It´s a realization I can only have when not mid-crazy LA.
Relaxing evening. I love the way the Portuguese do dinners. It´s a production. Tapas on the table: prosciutto, bread, breaded meat pastries, olives, octopus salad. Meat in general is a big thing here. Almost no vegetarian choices anywhere. (Not a bad thing for me but some of our team are having a hard time figuring out what to eat.) After tapas and wine, then the entree, which is huge. Tonite I had salmon with green beans soaked in something and more roasted potatoes. Then desserts for the table to share and more cafe. Everything has been really tasty but I´m not used to the huge dinners.
A few of the girls took a long walk after dinner and snuck into the palace-turned-hotel. Gorgeous old place called Casa da Calcada. Very regal and formal inside. I´ve been playing with my new camera, trying out all the new settings. I´m getting some good shots of the town, but none of my pics have people in them. Really need to start getting some of the team.
Almost midnight, time to crash. I think I finally figured out a good routine with the internet cafe so I hope I can keep updating.
Boa noite.
Amarante, Portugal
Reading: Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger
Songs on repeat: Bonjour from Beauty and the Beast
Forget what I said about Amarane being a village. It´s a metropolis compared to our build site. Ok, maybe it´s a town. The area we are building in, which I can neither pronouce or spell, is really just a mountain road with very old, derelict houses and shacks. There is really nothing up there but the view. (Which is breathtaking.) I´m tempted to carry a notepad and paper and have our local guides write things down any time they answer my questions about the area.
Portuguese is a hard language. It´s a blend of Spanish, French and Romanian. I haven´t worked up the courage to really say anything but "Obrigado." (Thank you.) Anything I have tried just ends up as a Spanish/Portuguese/English hybrid and the locals either laugh or stare. They really don´t know what to do with us yet.
The build went a lot better than I expected. Some of the experienced GV members told me horror stories (or maybe pride stories) of Habitat builds with no water, balancing over scaffolding off cliffs and mixing cement by hand. Our is in a pverty stricken area but we have electricity and a cement mixer. Posh.
Very little time to go over anything before we dove in. We´re rebuilding on the old house´s location so at least it´s not from scratch. A fair chunk of the outer walls made it up today. I spent most of the day working with rebar. (No idea if I spelled that right.) Basically we were bending and securing iron beams that supports the corners and ceiling. Thank God for leather gloves. I would have been shredded to pieces by 9:30am without them. Got a good layer of rust dust from head to toe.
One of the best parts about the Habitat crew is the kindness of the team. Our lunch was made by Alfredo´s family. I´m not exactly sure what Alfredo does, but so far he has been our driver, built on site and he brought us lunch. And his brother owns a bar across from the hotel. Lunch was a fantastic filling pasta salad with eggs, olives, tomatos, peppers, cheese, cashews, sardines, zucchini and a few things I didn´t recognize. Like I said, no questions.
After lunch we walked up the mountain to a tiny cafe for cha and cafe. It´s run by an ancient couple with huge smiles. It looked like we had been their first customers in about 15 years. As we laughed and relaxed in the courtyard, a tiny dog snuck over to investigate us. He let some of the girls get close but was skittish around the guys. I named him Creepy for the way he crept around the yard, going from spot to spot without letting anyone touch him. Any loud conversatin would send him under the stairs. He liked me and chilled at my side for a while. The old woman who ran the cafe came running out and started gesturing and speaking loud Portuguese. Through pantomime I guessed he was her dog and he lived at the cafe. Afterwards, her husband led us through their garden vineyard and chicken coops as a short cut back to the site.
Evertyhing I´ve seen so far of Portugal is a strange mix of modern and provincial. The house next to the site had a woman scrubbing and banging her wash in a stone basin. But then she answered a cell. I am trying to picture what day to day life is like, but it´s hard to do. I´m used to comfort and gratification, especially when it comes to wear I live. It´s an education to see what other cultures regard as normal.
The build went well and I didn´t even get sunburned. Just some rosy cheeks.
As we left the build and were coming down the mountain, I realized how relaxed I was. Even after 2 days of annoying travel and a hard build today. I feel great. That got me thinking on why I am so tense all the time, and if it´s my lifestyle that makes me so tense. Why do I choose to live in LA, around all the choas and panicked energy and traffic, when it makes me crazy? But when I picture living anywhere but LA, I feel hollow. I know if I left LA, I´d feel like there was something missing. I know I won´t always feel that way. Someday I´ll probably want to live somwhere else and have a different lifestyle. But it feels good to know that my life and the way I live it are by choice and are a part of me. It´s a realization I can only have when not mid-crazy LA.
Relaxing evening. I love the way the Portuguese do dinners. It´s a production. Tapas on the table: prosciutto, bread, breaded meat pastries, olives, octopus salad. Meat in general is a big thing here. Almost no vegetarian choices anywhere. (Not a bad thing for me but some of our team are having a hard time figuring out what to eat.) After tapas and wine, then the entree, which is huge. Tonite I had salmon with green beans soaked in something and more roasted potatoes. Then desserts for the table to share and more cafe. Everything has been really tasty but I´m not used to the huge dinners.
A few of the girls took a long walk after dinner and snuck into the palace-turned-hotel. Gorgeous old place called Casa da Calcada. Very regal and formal inside. I´ve been playing with my new camera, trying out all the new settings. I´m getting some good shots of the town, but none of my pics have people in them. Really need to start getting some of the team.
Almost midnight, time to crash. I think I finally figured out a good routine with the internet cafe so I hope I can keep updating.
Boa noite.
Churches and phallic pastries
May 23
LAX » IAD»FRA»OPO
Reading: An Education by Lynn Barber
Songs on repeat: Lady Antebellum "Need You Now" and Band of Horses "No One´s Going To Love You"
I´ve arrived safe and sound. More importantly, so did the turtle pack. After a harrowing dash through the Frankfort airport, I was afraid I´d be doing the build in my chucks and t-shirt I had worn for 2 days already. But we both arrived safe and after 8 hours waiting in the Porto airport for the rest of the team, now we´re all in Amarante.
I had been worried about the language barrier, but like everyone said, a good majority of people speak English or at least understand it. What was surprising is the number of billboards, signs, even menus that are also in English. Not so much in Amarante because it´s out of the way, but elsewhere, English is everywhere. Really makes you think about how Americans view our tourists. Not only that, but the fact that in Europe, it seems they all speak at least 2 languages. It´s just a completely different mentality than Americans have.
The village is old and hilly and very beautiful. Erick, the team lead, swears it´s a city and it´s only my LA perpective that assmes it´s a village. I´m sorry but if you can walk it in under 15 min, the cars give way to pedestrians on cobblestone paths and every store, shop, or restaurant shuts down for mass, it´s a village.
Our local team lead, João, took us for a tour of this event. At that point I had been up since 3am LA time on Saturday with nothing but 20 min cat naps to keep me going. But I love tours and went anyway. He led us through all these narrow....well I guess you would call them streets but really they are just 8 ft wide cobblestone paths between the shops. Even so, cars race through them like it´s nothing. Every where we went, we were stared at by the locals. I don´t think it´s a very touristy area. A troupe of blue-shirted, overly excited Americans must have been hilarious.
Every inch of Amarante is just soaked in history. We walked through the ruins of a convent that has been there since some of the first kings and there is a local palace that has been converted into a hotel. There are churches everywhere. Almost all of Portugal is Roman Catholic and we peeped inside St. Gonçalo, the largest church, mid mass. The detail and care on the interior was astonishing. I wanted to take pictures but it wouldn´t do it justice. And this is just a typical church, not even a well known one.
Outside all of the churches, there are old ladies selling fresh pastries, bread, and cookies. I guess one thing that is tradition for the area are these penis shaped pastries. I have no idea why but Holly from our group mentioned she had read it somewhere. So on all these stands outside these majestic Catholic churches are these little old women selling pastries in the shape of penises. They have penis towers on the tables. They look delicious. I wonder how well business does after mass.
All of the Americans were starving by about 6:30 but in Portugal, most don´t eat dinner until 8:30 or after. The menus are heavily carnivourous. Lots of fish, veal, beef, goat, even octupus. I had an amazing roasted veal with butter-soaked roasted potatoes, these bite-sized meat pastries and spinach in some kind of sauce. I think I´ll be better off on this trip if I don´t ask what is in most of the dishes. Sardines are really popular and served on the table fried. Erick and I split a bottle of a great local red wine,Esteva Douro. The alcohol content must be less here. Normally if I split a bottle of wine, I´m on the floor. But after the whole bottle, we were both fine. It was ridiculously cheap, only about 8 euros for the whole bottle. If that´s the norm for the region, I think I´ll be sending home many more bottles than I had originally thought.
Our team is a really fun one. 8 girls and 3 guys and everyone gets a long really well so far. Even the hotel is better than expected. Comfortable rooms, hot showers, a fantastic buffet for breakfast and a patio that looks out over the whole village. Apparently this is one of the cushier Habitat builds. I´m the only one who hasn´t done some sort of Habitat build before. Everyone else has done at least one in the US and a few have done multiple GV trips. We´re from all over the country and a wide variety of jobs, so it´s been fun listening to everyone else´s stories.
I crashed hard after dinner and slept the best I have in my entire life. First build day is tomorrow and I´m so ready to get started.
LAX » IAD»FRA»OPO
Reading: An Education by Lynn Barber
Songs on repeat: Lady Antebellum "Need You Now" and Band of Horses "No One´s Going To Love You"
I´ve arrived safe and sound. More importantly, so did the turtle pack. After a harrowing dash through the Frankfort airport, I was afraid I´d be doing the build in my chucks and t-shirt I had worn for 2 days already. But we both arrived safe and after 8 hours waiting in the Porto airport for the rest of the team, now we´re all in Amarante.
I had been worried about the language barrier, but like everyone said, a good majority of people speak English or at least understand it. What was surprising is the number of billboards, signs, even menus that are also in English. Not so much in Amarante because it´s out of the way, but elsewhere, English is everywhere. Really makes you think about how Americans view our tourists. Not only that, but the fact that in Europe, it seems they all speak at least 2 languages. It´s just a completely different mentality than Americans have.
The village is old and hilly and very beautiful. Erick, the team lead, swears it´s a city and it´s only my LA perpective that assmes it´s a village. I´m sorry but if you can walk it in under 15 min, the cars give way to pedestrians on cobblestone paths and every store, shop, or restaurant shuts down for mass, it´s a village.
Our local team lead, João, took us for a tour of this event. At that point I had been up since 3am LA time on Saturday with nothing but 20 min cat naps to keep me going. But I love tours and went anyway. He led us through all these narrow....well I guess you would call them streets but really they are just 8 ft wide cobblestone paths between the shops. Even so, cars race through them like it´s nothing. Every where we went, we were stared at by the locals. I don´t think it´s a very touristy area. A troupe of blue-shirted, overly excited Americans must have been hilarious.
Every inch of Amarante is just soaked in history. We walked through the ruins of a convent that has been there since some of the first kings and there is a local palace that has been converted into a hotel. There are churches everywhere. Almost all of Portugal is Roman Catholic and we peeped inside St. Gonçalo, the largest church, mid mass. The detail and care on the interior was astonishing. I wanted to take pictures but it wouldn´t do it justice. And this is just a typical church, not even a well known one.
Outside all of the churches, there are old ladies selling fresh pastries, bread, and cookies. I guess one thing that is tradition for the area are these penis shaped pastries. I have no idea why but Holly from our group mentioned she had read it somewhere. So on all these stands outside these majestic Catholic churches are these little old women selling pastries in the shape of penises. They have penis towers on the tables. They look delicious. I wonder how well business does after mass.
All of the Americans were starving by about 6:30 but in Portugal, most don´t eat dinner until 8:30 or after. The menus are heavily carnivourous. Lots of fish, veal, beef, goat, even octupus. I had an amazing roasted veal with butter-soaked roasted potatoes, these bite-sized meat pastries and spinach in some kind of sauce. I think I´ll be better off on this trip if I don´t ask what is in most of the dishes. Sardines are really popular and served on the table fried. Erick and I split a bottle of a great local red wine,Esteva Douro. The alcohol content must be less here. Normally if I split a bottle of wine, I´m on the floor. But after the whole bottle, we were both fine. It was ridiculously cheap, only about 8 euros for the whole bottle. If that´s the norm for the region, I think I´ll be sending home many more bottles than I had originally thought.
Our team is a really fun one. 8 girls and 3 guys and everyone gets a long really well so far. Even the hotel is better than expected. Comfortable rooms, hot showers, a fantastic buffet for breakfast and a patio that looks out over the whole village. Apparently this is one of the cushier Habitat builds. I´m the only one who hasn´t done some sort of Habitat build before. Everyone else has done at least one in the US and a few have done multiple GV trips. We´re from all over the country and a wide variety of jobs, so it´s been fun listening to everyone else´s stories.
I crashed hard after dinner and slept the best I have in my entire life. First build day is tomorrow and I´m so ready to get started.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Without a Hair Dryer
Tomorrow I’m boarding a plane at 6:00am. I’ll be traveling for almost 24 hours straight. When I finally touch ground, I’ll be in Porto, Portugal.
This is a big deal to me.
Be careful. I’m about to get sappy.
When I signed up for Habitat for Humanity Global Village, it was following a whim. I was feeling claustrophobic in LA. It was the very start of 2010 and I knew that I couldn’t make it through another year living the same way I did in 2009. I needed something solid and totally selfish to grasp onto to get me jumpstarted. So when an old friend from high school raved about his amazing Habitat trips, something resonated. It wasn’t something I had considered before, but after hearing about it for one evening, I just knew it was something I was going to do. It was just a fact. I never had a question my year would go any different.
And so began half a year of planning and plotting and saving. I fund-raised my butt off. I sold a ton of my stuff. I campaigned with every person I know. I babysat a million hours. I did focus groups for cash and invented book and DVD drives. I threw garage sales. I got donations from EVERYWHERE. What I thought was going to be the most difficult part- raising the money to go- ended up being the most enlightening experience. Once I put it out there that this was something I was going to do, the support that came back blew me away. Some of it was surprising, from places I never expected. Those I did expect to support…somehow didn’t. The people in my life lifted me up and I have never been so grateful. Already I have received what I wanted—a life changing experience and to feel connected to something again. I’m connected to every single soul who has wished me luck or sent their support. For that, I am eternally grateful.
Ok…..now on to the fun part. The trip. It somehow ballooned past doing a Habitat for Humanity mission into a life mission.
The first part: I’ll be in Amarante, Portugal for 10 days. We’re building for the Costas family, a family of four who live in a one bedroom hut with no plumbing. This part of the trip is the most mysterious for me. I have no idea what to expect. Can I swing a hammer? Should I have been schlepping bags of cement around the last few months in preparation? I’m not the first one you’d see doing manual labor. But the best part about it is that I’m actually excited to get away from my desk, my blackberry and my comfort zone. I’m excited to just BE in a place and see something I had hands in benefit someone else.
The second part: After Portugal, I’m taking another 7 days to travel to Spain and Italy alone. I picked Barcelona, Venice and Rome after getting tons of suggestions. This is the scary part. I hadn’t anticipated traveling alone when I started. I’m a social animal. I love people and energy and most of all, I love support and to share experiences. Traveling solo seemed like an intimidating and lonely idea. I wanted company. But it seems the Universe had other ideas. But now, as I’m about to embark on this crazy journey, traveling solo seems….perfect. Liberating. Even enticing. Answering to no one. It feels….fantastic. I’m sure there will still be moments when I get lonely and I want to share my experiences with those closest to me. But that’s why this blog is so handy.
The next part of the process is where it gets tricky and where my blog title came from. This trip is a real departure for me. I like creature comforts. I like my routines and picking out my outfits based on my mood. I over-pack for a trip to Target. I like to take my time to get ready and get attached to my favorite things. But that mentality doesn’t mesh well with a 17 day trek across Europe. Granted, I’m not going on a safari through desolate wilderness. I’ll be in lovely, popular cities. But still….caravans full of HFH volunteers, foreign airports, hostels, trains and lots and lots and lots of walking doesn’t work well when carting around 3 suitcases, even with the traveling wheels. So I’m backpacking it- trading comfort for convenience. I’m leaving the hair dryer at home.
Part of this “life mission” is seeing if I can do something new and completely out of my comfort zone. Traveling without a hair dryer is definitely out of my comfort zone. Don’t laugh. If you had grown up with crazy curly hair with a mind of its own, you would be uncomfortable too. Someone in my family made a joke if I was aware that on Habitat trips, you don’t always get to shower every day and there’s no time for make-up. You know what? Thank God. When I heard that jab, after my initial offense, I was just happy that I not only knew that this trip meant changing and letting go of my habits, but that I also didn’t care. I welcome it.
I’ll be updating this blog periodically. I haven't planned out what I'm blogging about so they could just be random musings from a displaced LA girl. (Watch out, typos and misspellings and awful grammar abound!) Or they could be pics of pigeons. Who knows? I’m using this time to detach from my routine here and hit the reset button. Remember what I love doing and discover new things I hadn’t considered liking. Pushing myself to write because that “I’ll do it someday” clause is up. Seeing what exists outside the LA bubble.
I’m really friggin excited.
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