Traveling Epiphany

As I stare out the window at the Panama City skyline, at a bird soaring high close to the tall buildings, I realize that I have quiet. Time to think. It's a bit sad, because there are so many things to think about, often painful things to think about. There are unresolved thoughts and ideas. Everything is happening at once. When you realize how many things are happening in the world at one - hammering a nail, someone crying, entering data into a spreadsheet mindlessly, people having sex, a woman having a baby, someone dying, someone breaking a bone, dinner being scorched, a snowstorm, lightning striking a person, a car crash, a nap, a fight, crying - it makes you realize that this world is about way more much than you.

Notes From My Central American Travel Journal (with afterthoughts noted in italics, 2.5 months later)

I suppose in travel what one aims is to find one’s self. Have I found myself? Maybe life is all about looking in which case traveling is a journey to find yourself.

Perhaps I should just take Jarrett’s palm reading advice of nothing thinking with my head but letting life happen by my heart.

This is how we should love. This is how we should love.

I don’t know if I can go back to NYC, day-to-day, to subway rides, the slush, the carrying too many bags on the subway, the deadlines, the hierarchy, the not-enough-sleep, the too-much-to-do, the way things get. I don’t know how to avoid it at all.

I’m back. I’m doing laundry, buying groceries, meeting friends for drinks when I’d rather be sleeping, forgetting to mop my floor, hitting snooze, showing up to work late after wardrobe crisises, working too much, running enough speed workouts, letting the dishes sit too long in my sink, listening to music super duper loud and wondering how my neighbors put up with me, dancing until dawn, letting the glitter grow on its own on my very skin…

Guatemala City: I was a little irritated at my long way, my long day of traveling, when it struck me: this is what traveling is about. Perhaps you make an elaborate, delicious dinner – but then you must wash all the dishes. It’s part of that, and it’s unavoidable.

I must learn to embrace waiting. In dingy, terrible bus station waiting rooms, I people watch and read Dosteovsky and write in my journal and write letters and daydream and simply be. How often ordinarily do I have time to daydream? And all this time? Practically never. I must enjoy it. I could be in a wretched meeting. I could be at work, suffocating with the hierarchy and boredom that sometimes comes along with the territory. I could be on a crowded subway car, or waiting for the G train in the freezing cold. I could be having an asthma attack.

So true…and it is now that I cherish that chill moments that are so rare…or the sleeping late moments…and each delicious sip of tea…

The thing about traveling is that it teaches you words you wouldn’t necessarily learn in a classroom. Like how to say you want your eggs cooked and whole wheat bread, please (pan integral, por favor) and street and road signs.

Verdad.

The roads in Guatemala are scary – I can’t believe they exit – the mountainous, poorly-signed lane alternations on the road…

It’s a miracle I survived.

There was an earthquake when I was in Xela.

And I barely noticed it.

When you travel, you think you’re looking for yourself, but you really end up getting lost.

And you find something else in the process.

And notes from San Marcos, where I met so many amazing people, including Bill, Keith, Stacy, Ada, Candy, and so many others who taught me nonstop with their every breath:

“The highest form of ignorance is to reject something you know absolutely nothing about.”

“Let go and you can heal yourself. When you do, seven grams of weight leave your body.”

“Be in the moment. Not the past, which is a struggle, or the future.”

“Breathe – and smile.”

 “Move your awareness into your heart.”

“All the memories are in our cells.”

“That is the old me.”

“Fake it until you get there.”

“When a negative thought comes, recognize it right away and release it.”

“It’s better to conquer your mind more than a thousand men.” –Chinese proverb

“Learn through joy instead of pain.”

“Don’t have a Plan A. My Plan A is what’s happening now. Have a plan B, C, D, all the way to Z if you need to, but don’t have a plan A. Be open to the now.”

“You are the creator of your life.”

“Cacao will put the broken pieces of your heart back together.”

Gemini=I think!

Leon, Nicaragua

Leon. What a great city. I love the energy, the vibe of this place, the different colours of the buildings, the people. I spend New Years here, have walked around a bunch, went to the art museum, the Rubin Dario Museum, el Museo de la Revoluccion (where I accidentally squeezed a live bomb, which luckily did not go off), walked around a lot, took privado Spanish classes, tried and adored little teeny tiny super sweet bananas, met lots of awesome, amazing, super smart people, iam having fun. Relaxing, eating, cooking, walking, talking, thinking, dreaming, dancing...isn't this is what life is supposed to be about? 

The Things I'll Never Get Used To

I love traveling. I am really enjoying my trip in Central America, but there are quite a few things that I haven't gotten used to, and that I probably never will.

• The filthiness. This is my proper, suburban-squeaky clean upbringing, but I hate all the trash in the streets, and how everyone just tosses their food wrappers, their trash into the street without thinking.
• The fires. Burning plastic, burning trash, in the streets.
• The sexual harassment. Really, men, do you need to make kissy noises at every woman that goes past? Argh!
• The children. It's sad seeing children running around at the age of three or four with no parents in sight, barefoot. "You're going to get something in your feet," my mom would have yelled. She also would have kept me tethered to the house until I was 21 if she would have been able to.
• Crappy beer and good rum. I don't care about the beer, but ah, Flor de Cana, you are lovely.
• Street food. There's so much of it, so much of it is frightening, yet so many people eat a lot of it. Monica's doctor friend says if you see the food being made in front of you, it's probably okay.
• The prices. Wow. Such a difference. I'm taking Spanish classes for $5 an hour (privado!) and when I told my teacher today how much my rent is in NYC, she about died. I love the cheapness of things. And yes, the aforementioned rum is cheap.

There are heaps of other things, but I can't think of them now. But trust me, this place is such a shock at times.

Malpais y Santa Teresa, Costa Rica

I could stay here another week. Surf, sun, watch the sunset, run, eat, nap in hammocks, beach, beach, beach. 

My hostel has tons of hammocks, great vibe, neat kitchen and layout, cool peeps. I've been spending the days on the beach, with breaks for running, avocados, Trits (amazing ice cream treats!), chats abt life and traveling and philosophy with other travelers, practicing my Spanish, swims, shell-hunting, surfing and fun. I love it here.

Toilets in Central America - from my hostel in San Jose

a few more random pics of bocas del toro

i can't believe i'm leaving. i don't want to. i love this city so much...beach, rad peeps, beach, cool vibes, beach, good weather, beach, relaxation, beach...tomorrow i head up north, to costa rica.

 

What if I stayed here?

What if I stayed here?

What if I never left? It's the kind of thing you can't help but think when you're someplace amazing, running on a beach, loving the place you're temporarily living...okay, just hosteling, but I wish I was living here.

I can't stay. I have someone I'm madly in love with back home who would never move here, I have a good job, an apt that I can actually afford, a great running community, lots of awesome friends, family...I can't really leave, but a girl can dream.

A girl can dream, right?

A girl can dream of staying in a town like Bocas del Toro...of the beautiful weather, of the sunshine, of the awesome beaches, of the surfing multiple days a week, of the two runs a day, of the friendly people, of the beauty, of the chill culture, of the relaxed pace of the society...there are others who have beat me to the idea, working at hostels, in English language bookstores, surfing around until their money runs out. Meeting rad backpackers, trying new foods, new drinks, breaking all the rules, going to the places that scare you...

But could I do it, really live here? On the beach, the chill life? Would my job let me relocate here? Would I ever get tired of it? Would I miss things back home too much? Would I be happy here, all the time?

I don't know. It's something I don't need to think about, since I won't be staying here. I'm sure I'd find the island life limiting, the running boring, the Panamian time annoying, the lack of good fruits and veggies and vegetarian food frustrating, the tourists overwhelming.

When I'm back in NY, in the cold winter, seeking solace in the warmth of my love, friends, family, and cat, I will hope to cultivate the peace and calm and warmth and happiness I have found here in Panama...and hope to continue to feel this amazing way when I'm back in the cold city that is my home.

Brooklyn Goodbye

This morning, I woke up to my final Brooklyn run to see a thin coating of snow on the ground. The soft was snow and the ice rare, so conditions were fairly good. It was wicked cold - 20, with windchill of four below. I met my running club and ran for a little bit until I had to turn back to deal with my insane day: laundry, work at home, head to airport at noon. I feel sick almost - hoping I remembered to pack everything, and also, sick at how much I already miss Brant.

But I'm lucky. I really am. I'm quite far from rich but it's really fantastic that I can afford to go away for so long. It's great that I work for a job that lets me take 7 weeks of vacation (paid!) - my friend Todd works someplace where he can't really go away for more than a week because he is considered too vital for him to be gone that long. I'm also lucky that I work for a job when I walk in with pink hair, the CEO says, "How festive!" I'm lucky because I am in love with someone who is so amazing that despite no prior interest in Nicaragua, is coming down to spend two weeks with me around Nicaragua. I'm lucky because my family and friends have all provided their love and support of this trip. I'm lucky because I get to create my own Christmas fantasy this year.

The minutes are counting down. Have to finish packing my asthma medicine (decided to bring it despite its bulkiness because I'm pretty sure a Central American hospital is not fun at all), rearrange clothes in my bag, take care of a bunch of last-minute work things, do a once-over for the subletter.

No expensive jewelry. Dresses. Bikinis. Rash guard. Glitter. Books. Netbook. I think I'm set. It's going to be a wild ride, with lots of ups and downs. I'm sure I'll end up crying in a bus station at some point, missing everything back home, especially the ones I love most, but then there will be that moment where I catch that wave, and it feels so good, so amazing, and it is then that I will truly remember what it means to be alive.