Chiang Mai

From my travel journal, 6/14/08:

We arrived the day before yesterday in Chiang Mai and spent the evening wandering the night market.

The next morning, we piled into a pickup truck to go jungle trekking. Our guides call themselves James Bond and Jack Sparrow, and they very much live up to their nicknames. Both of them carry 2 1/2 foot-long machetes which turned out to be surprisingly versatile. James used his to cut me a bamboo walking stick, make a waterpipe out of a gourd, and make dinner.

When I signed up for this trek, I didn't quite appreciate how tough it would actually be. I imagined something like the hike up Volcan Pacaya in Guatemala, or perhaps my jungle treks in Tikal--but instead, this hike was, oh, about 10 times harder. We trekked with all our gear in 90 degree weather with 100% humidity, through red mud, alongside and across streams, hopping rocks to keep from falling in the water, and through jungle foliage so dense that at times it brushed against my body on both sides (which helped wipe off the sweat that was running in rivulets down my body), and over paths so lightly trodden we were still stepping on live grass. I don't think I have ever hiked or exercised that hard in my life. Two hours into the hike, I was soaked through from head to toe in my own sweat, laboring to take the next step and leaning heavily on my walking stick. James Bond and Jack Sparrow, on the other hand, sauntered along barely even breaking a sweat (Jack was wearing rubber flip flops), entertaining us with whistled pitch-perfect renditions of favorites from Bob Marley, the Beatles, the Scorpions, and the Lion King.

We finally arrived at a hill-town perched in the clouds in the middle of the jungle. We enjoyed a dinner, cooked by James Bond with the aid of his machete, of red curry with fish balls, tofu with bean sprouts, and stir-fried veggies.

That night, we gathered around a campfire and listened to our guides play the guitar and sing.

It's morning now. I am sitting in a hut on stilts, literally inside of a cloud on the jungle hillside. All around there is no other sign of civilization. The only noise is the crackling of the fire behind me as our guides cook breakfast, and the occasional rooster crow.

the List, updated (again)

Places I’ve been in the past six years, in no particular order (times in parenthesis if visited more than once):

Luang Prabang
Vang Vieng
Koh Samui
Koh Phangan
Surat Thani
Chiang Mai
Mexico City
Guanajuato
Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)
Nha Trang
Guatemala City
Antigua, Guatemala (3)
Amatitlan
Santa Cruz la Laguna, Lago Atitlan
Panajachel, Lago Atitlan (2）
San Pedro La Laguna, Lago Atitlan (2)
Jocotenango （2）
San Jose, Costa Rica （2）
Alajuela
Tortuguero
La Fortuna (Volcan Arenal)
Bocas Del Toro
Tikal
San Salvador
Granada, Nicaragua
Paris (3)
Lyon
Marseilles
Iles du Frioul
Cassis
Barcelona (2)
Mallorca
Cinque Terre (2)
Amsterdam (4)
Lisse
Siena
Prague (2)
Vienna (2)
Rome (2)
Venice (2)
Florence
Shanghai
Guangzhou
Hangzhou
Suzhou
Shenzen
Taipei
Kaoshuing
Hong Kong (3)
Macau
Lantau
Cheung Chau
Bangkok (3)
Phuket (2)
Phi Phi (2)
Ko Chang
Siem Reap (Angkor Wat)
Oahu
Puerto Nuevo (10+)
New York City

Pasdena is Awesome.

I've moved to Old Town Pasadena. What a beautiful, wonderful neighborhood. I'm in love. I have found one of the rare places in LA where you don't need a car to get around and it's safe and fun to walk at night. Amazing. More later.

it's been awhile. life just sort of sucks you into these miniature vortices of mundanity and each day melts into the next, and it seems like you blink and a year has gone by.

bar results come out tomorrow. i can't believe it's been a year since i found out i passed. this time last year, i was just a wreck. not as bad as the few weeks before the test, but a wreck nonetheless. this time last year i was doing temp work as a receptionist at a law firm. a client came in one day and said to me "oh you're new here aren't you? they should keep you here. you're pretty."

so much has happened in a year's time. i've not traveled as much as before, but i've learned a lot about strategy, and how to deal with adults like i'm one of them. it is strange working with people twice my age. my bosses are really cool, but some opposing counsel look at me like i'm a kid. and to them, i am.

i am seriously thinking about starting a wedding photography business on the weekends.

Vietnam Summer Pix

The List, updated

Places I’ve been in the past six years, in no particular order (times in parenthesis if visited more than once):

Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)
Nha Trang
Guatemala City
Antigua, Guatemala (3)
Amatitlan
Santa Cruz la Laguna, Lago Atitlan
Panajachel, Lago Atitlan
San Pedro La Laguna, Lago Atitlan
Jocotenango
San Jose, Costa Rica
Alajuela
Tortuguero
La Fortuna (Volcan Arenal)
Bocas Del Toro
Tikal
San Salvador
Granada, Nicaragua
Paris (3)
Lyon
Marseilles
Iles du Frioul
Cassis
Barcelona (2)
Mallorca
Cinque Terre (2)
Amsterdam (4)
Lisse
Siena
Prague (2)
Vienna (2)
Rome (2)
Venice (2)
Florence
Shanghai
Guangzhou
Hangzhou
Suzhou
Shenzen
Taipei
Kaoshuing
Hong Kong (3)
Macau
Lantau
Cheung Chau
Bangkok
Phuket (2)
Phi Phi (2)
Ko Chang
Siem Reap (Angkor Wat)
Oahu
Puerto Nuevo (10+)
New York City

Guatemala again...again!

Alright. I just can't help myself. It's an addiction.

When I see a $50 each way flight to Guatemala I just CANNOT stop myself from taking it. So on labor day weekend, I'm headed to yet another Guatemalan excursion.

This time I am trying my hand at tour-guiding and leading a group of 9 other people. It's a bigger group than I've ever traveled with, but I think it will be fun, especially since it's only for 3 nights.

More pictures, of course to come.

But first... VIETNAM! I leave in exactly 10 days.

Guatemala May 2007 pix

guatemala, here i come again!

Two weeks ago Spirit Air had a sale. LAX <--> Guatemala City, nonstop, $88 each way.
If you've been reading me long enough, you know how fast I was all over that.

I'm leaving, with my love, four friends and my cousin, to spend one night on the shores of magical Lake Atitlan, a quick jaunt up a volcano, and two nights in the old colonial town of Antigua, nestled between three volcanoes. We'll be staying here and here.

I can't wait!

Stop. Listen.

In this astonishing article, the Washington Post wages the experiment: In a banal setting at an inconvenient time, would beauty transcend?

What happens when you take one of the world's most acclaimed classical musicians, playing a $3 million Stradivarius, and have him play at a subway station during rush hour? How much money do you think he'd make? How many people would stop to listen?

Read the article and watch the video clips.

Consider: how often do you, in your rush to fulfill the banal, repetitive obligations that take up your days....how often do you stop and listen, observe, watch? How much of our lives do we simply let slip by unnoticed?

The Promotion

I was a dog in my former life, a very good dog, and, thus, I was promoted to a human being.

I liked being a dog. I worked for a poor farmer guarding and herding his sheep.
Wolves and coyotes tried to get past me almost every night, and not once did I lose a sheep. The farmer rewarded me with good food, food from his table. He may have been poor, but he ate well. And his children played with me, when they weren’t in school or working in the field. I had all the love any dog could hope for. When I got old, they got a new dog, and I trained him in the tricks of the trade.

He quickly learned, and the farmer brought me into the house to live with them. I brought the farmer his slippers in the morning, as he was getting old, too. I was dying slowly, a little bit at a time. The farmer knew this and would bring the new dog in to visit me from time to time. The new dog would entertain me with his flips and flops and nuzzles. And then one morning I just didn’t get up. They gave me a fine burial down by the stream under a shade tree. That was the end of my being a dog. Sometimes I miss it so I sit by the window and cry. I live in a high-rise that looks out at a bunch of other high-rises. At my job I work in a cubicle and barely speak to anyone all day. This is my reward for being a good dog. The human wolves don’t even see me.

They fear me not.

~James Tate

new year

it's strange, this feeling of starting something entirely new--again. usually when i pick up and move somewhere, it's to someplace very far away from home, in another country, across the globe--but i know exactly when i'll be coming back. now, i'm up north of L.A. at a new job and in a new house and sometimes i feel like i'm living someone else's life.

it's also so weird having an answer to the question: so, what do you do? what kind of career are you in? i'd always been working towards something before...but suddenly, i find that i have arrived. it's jarring, and not a little surreal. a beginner again.

winter reading

Picked up a pile of books at Borders the other day. Can't wait to snuggle in bed and plow through them.

Veronika Decide Morir (original Spanish language edition)by Paulo Coelho

Reefer Madness by Eric Schlosser

Aloft by Chang Rae Lee

Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, by Helen Fielding

Infectious Greed, by Frank Partnoy

The Millionaire Mind by Thomas J. Stanley

Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf

I PASSED!!!!!

thank you god. thank you, everyone, for your support, and for believing in me. thank you thank you thank you thank you.

clean sweep

The House. The Senate. Rummy leaving. I am so, so relieved--and for the first time in a long time, optimistic about the future of this country.

too much food network!

I have been cooking up a storm since I've been back.

Dinner last night:
Fish stew (tilapia, red snapper, clams, squid, veggies in a clam chowder, sauvignon blanc and creme fraiche base)
Butter and garlic pan seared giant scallops
Sourdough for dipping

Dinner tonight:
Tagliatelle bake with sweet italian sausage and ground turkey and four cheeses
Roasted fennel and carrots in herbs and shaved parmesan
Polenta, pan fried in garlic and then topped with shredded parmesan and baked until parmesan is crispy
Butternut squash soup, made from scratch (my friend Mat made this and it was delicious)!
Balsamic glazed raosted brussels sprouts
Columbia Crest Two Vines Shiraz

Here is the recipe for the Butternut squash soup, which is absolutely scrumptious.

BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP
1 Butternut Squash
1 whole head of garlic
Chicken stock
Olive Oil
Salt
Pepper
Nutmeg
Curry Powder

Cut squash into quarters, remove seeds and membrane. Rub with oil, salt, pepper, and a little curry powder and nutmeg. Wrap in foil. Cut top off of head of garlic, drizzle with oil, wrap in foil. Place squash and garlic on BBQ grill, close lid, and grill for about 40 minutes, or until squash is roasted and soft. Let cool a little. Remove from foil, scoop out squash and squeeze out garlic from casing. Puree in small batches in blender with chicken stock. Transfer to pot, re-heat, sprinkle some more nutmeg if desired. YUM!

Photo album is up!

Here it is, 101 photos of Central America. Click to view!

Central America, Summer 2006

Oct 10, 2006 - 101 Photos

Mayan temple, Tikal, Guatemala

That's me way at the bottom!  

The List, updated

Places I’ve been in the past five years, in no particular order (times in parenthesis if visited more than once):

Guatemala City
Antigua, Guatemala
Amatitlan
Jocotenango
San Jose, Costa Rica
Alajuela
Tortuguero
La Fortuna (Volcan Arenal)
Bocas Del Toro
Tikal
San Salvador
Granada, Nicaragua
Paris (3)
Lyon
Marseilles
Iles du Frioul
Cassis
Barcelona (2)
Mallorca
Cinque Terre (2)
Amsterdam (4)
Lisse
Siena
Prague (2)
Vienna (2)
Rome (2)
Venice (2)
Florence
Shanghai
Guangzhou
Hangzhou
Suzhou
Taipei
Kaoshuing
Hong Kong (3)
Macau
Bangkok
Phuket
Phi Phi
Ko Chang
Siem Reap (Angkor Wat)
Oahu
Vegas (10+)
Puerto Nuevo (6)
New York City

convento san francisco, antigua

  

back

i'm back! the flight was quite arduous (guatemala city to san jose, costa rica, overnight in san jose, san jose to miami, overnight in miami, miami to LAX). my body reacted by developing a large cold sore. i'm not leaving the house until it disappears.

Mouse has forgotten about me, and I am heartbroken. She seems to view me as an unwelcome extra presence in the house, a disruption to her blissful coexistence with my boyfriend. They curl up in bed together and cast hostile stares me way.

doorway, antigua

  

tal vez: perhaps

VIII. TAL VEZ...

Tal vez ya no le importa mi gemido
en el indiferente edén callado
en que el espíritu desencarnado
vive como dormido...
Tal vez ni sabe ya cómo he llorado
ni cómo he padecido.

En profundo quietismo,
su alma, que antes me amara de tal modo,
se desliza glacial por ese abismo
del eterno mutismo,
olvidada de sí, de mí, de todo...

- Amado Nervo (Chilean poet, 1870-1919)

mariposa negra

Last night while we were eating dinner, the duena (landlady) came to talk to my host mom. The corner convenience store had just been robbed. My roomates and I stared around the table at one another, frozen to our seats. The store is not 75 feet from where we were sitting, and we had heard nothing.

I thought about the night before, when I had walked there alone at 10:30pm, to buy apple juice. I remembered the bored-looking clerks, two of them, young men, who explained to me that one of the refrigerators was broken so if I wanted cold juice, I would have to buy apple, and not grape, as I had originally asked for. I thought about what could have happened if I had chosen to go a day later.

We briefly considered not going out that night, but decided to go dancing anyway. Spent the night dancing (or in my case, trying to dance) to salsa at a club called Casbah under the arch.

Today at lunch, Dona marta told us that there is a black trash bag tied to the door of hte store in the shape of a bow or butterfly. The clerk had not just been robbed--he had been shot dead.

It seems to wrong that at the exact moment I was sitting down at dinner, discussing where to go dancing that night, less than half a black away someones life was slipping away.

There are 200 violent attacks, mostly robberies and mostly in the capital, on the camionetas (chicken buses) every day. Every other day or two the newspapers fill up with the count of people who had been shot dead on the buses that day. Last friday, there were 12. Yet every afternoon, the buses roll by, packed to the gills with passengers and laden with luggage tied to the roof.

Don´t Move

Once in awhile I come across a book that grips me and doesn´t let go until I have stayed up all night with it, fell asleep clutching it with the lights on, cried into my sheet, and spent the whole next day reading very, very slowly for fear it will end. Don´t Move, by Margaret Mazzantini, is one of those books. It is incredibly graphic, vulgar, gripping, heart-rending and gorgeously written.

English language books sell at a premium here in Antigua, so it behoves me to trade my used copy of this book in for a discount on teh next book I buy. But I can´t. This one I´m lugging all the way home.