29 June 2009

The Overnight Walk!

I did it. I walked The Overnight Walk for the AFSP. http://www.theovernight.org/fundraising/yvette

It was an experience. I feel like a total champ for doing it and it's still kinda unbelievable. To quote a friend's message to me on Twitter "EPIC WIN" and I totally agree.

I flew into Chicago Friday night and met up with Carrie and Laura at the hotel around midnight as they were getting ready to go to bed. Being the person on west coast time, I was the lucky one - they were the tired ones.

We slept pretty well. I shared a bed with Laura - it was a bed that ate humans and made them into a sinkhole for the next victim. We called it the butt-trough since it created a nice divit right there. It was impossible to get out of and you definitely were made to snuggle by the bed even in the room w/o air conditioning - not so nice.

We didn't do much Saturday day time since we knew we'd have to walk walk walk our little tushes off that night. We got food and watched crappy TV and packed and prepped. Eventually we went over to Soldier's Field to get ready for the walk.

It was in the upper 80s and hot hot hot. I was carrying a rainjacket, hydration system and another layer that went unused. There were people lying in the grass, sitting around, checking in and talking and crying. Nearly all of us wore colored beads where each bead color recognized our connection to the walk and reason for participating - supporting the cause, struggling personally, loss of a friend, loss of a parent, loss of a spouse, loss of a sibling, loss of a child All were represented and sometimes in heartbreaking combinations.

We checked in, got our beads and ate our dinner watching the people and chatting. We're a bit twisted so there was much laughter from our corner And a bit of swearing and anger directed at our lost friend.

Then opening ceremony happened which was nice - just enough talking to get you ready to walk without enough to bore you. I missed some of the speeches though looking over at a group of people wearing a shirt with 4 different lost loved ones names on them - one lost as recently as June 11, 2009. Whoa.

Then we set out for our traipse around the city. We started by walking the waterfront area which was very pretty up to the pier. They had rest stops for porta-potties and water about every 3 miles. There were also snack breaks and a midnight "dinner" of sandwiches for us along the route. At first we were all bunched up and going so slow, wondering how we'd ever hit the 3mph pace. Carrie, Laura and I were determined though and we stuck together.

There were lots of groups walking together - families and friends. There were also a lot of solo walkers. After the first 3 miles I felt great - still going. Then the rain started - and it pretty much lasted the rest of the night (other than the last 2-3 miles). That wasn't horrid since it was so hot, but it wasn't what I was really looking for either. We kept on walking. We eventually turned off from the waterfront path and went through some parks over to the Chicago zoo. By this point Carrie's knees were starting to have a mind of their own and get a little funky. We kept walking. Walking walking walking. I made a really bad and really uncreative song about walking. They made me stop singing!

A few rest stops later Carrie was really sore and her knees were going to mush - literally - I felt them. We kept walking. The last mile before the dinner point, Carrie and Laura caught a van and I kept walking. I met up with a group - it was a solo walker, Amy from Chicago, and 2 of her friends who had joined her for a few miles. We walked, shared stories and laughed. Amy had lost her brother in November 2008. We got to dinner and I re-found Carrie and Laura, but lost Amy and crew.

Carrie decided to get back out and walk - she's as stubborn as I am! So walk we did. Laura by this point was also unable to truly tie one of her shoes since for no apparent reason (she trained better than I did by a lot!!) her foot was swollen and irritated. About midway through this 3 mile leg, there was suffering going on. I was a very determined shuttle van catcher making a committed sad walker face and signal. Y'see, not only did they have the greatest volunteers directing us through intersections and manning the rest stops, they also had volunteers in sweep vans picking up injured, exhausted or otherwise walkers. There were "unhappy walker" symbols to make to these vans. I made a very serious sad walker face to grab a van for us and we hopped in. Carrie's knees were no longer truly knees - at least the one I felt/squished. Thank god for great medical volunteers and sweeper vans.

We'd seen lots of dehydration victims along the way and were constantly being encouraged to hydrate. We did.

Laura and I got out at the next stop and decided to walk through downtown Chicago, letting Carrie catch the bus she'd take back to Soldier's Field to meet us later. I happened to see Amy again, this time without friends, so Laura and I adopted her. We picked up another of Amy's random Chicago-an friends around 2am in the middle of downtown Chicago - fantastic. At the final rest stop I lost Laura but I was stubborn. I was exhausted, well aware I'd be sore, but dammit - it was 2:45am and I was going to finish. Yes I was. So Amy, myself and Amy's friend (also a Carrie) set out walking... A little over 3 miles to Soldier's Field and we were routed back out to the waterfront. There was the most beautiful view of Chicago behind us, but my muscle control at this point was such that where-ever my head looked, my body turned. Aka, I knew I'd better not sit down or I wasn't going to get up and keep walking. Plod plod plod.

Finally, we heard cheering in the distance. Amy's girlfriend found us on the path just about 3/4 of a mile from Soldier's Field to encourage us to keep going - we were almost there. Holy hell I needed the cheering and encouragement of the volunteers to keep going, I needed to meet Nancy (Amy's girlfriend) who told us how close we were.

And then we saw the path into Soldier's Field. It was lit with luminary bags - white paper bags that we'd all gotten to decorate as memorials before the walk. I had 3 - one dedicated to Susan, one dedicated to my cousin Dustin, and one dedicated to all the families and friends who'd lost people but weren't there with us encouraging life in the middle of a random Saturday night. I made it I walked 16-18 miles (not sure how much I rode the van for - probably about a mile making my total 17 miles). We left Soldier's field at 7:30pm and I made it back in just before 4am. I smelled rank and I hugged everyone in sight.

It was a crazy experience. I'll do it again next year (minus the over hydration (see my previous post) that I experienced yesterday post walk.

We saw so many people all going through loss. We saw so many people cheering us on. We were all cheering for those left behind to survive and help other people not commit suicide.

We walked through quiet neighborhoods, beautiful waterfronts, the midst of downtown, old town drunkenville, parks. We put up with the length, rain, overly hot and humid weather and oncoming bike traffic. We did it - everyone. There were people of all ages and fitness levels walking. I saw a woman leave the walk only a few miles in - she was really old - definitely grandma aged. She started the walk not knowing how far she'd get just walking for the experience of it - and the pride of knowing she'd raised money for the AFSP to help educate about suicide. We saw walkers at the end who'd finished at 1am (no clue how - so not me!). It wasn't a race, it was a steady plod. a) I couldn't race 1 mile let alone 18 and b) it was the friggin' middle of the night!

I tweeted my experience on Facebook and Twitter.

The silliest quote of the night was from Carrie. "I'm wearing plastic, he's drunk. Who's having the better night?"

I can't put most of what I felt into words. Just know that it was worth it to me. It was so worth it I look forward to fundraising and walking again.

Even the fundraising experience was priceless - mostly because of all the emails you guys sent me. The encouragement and support had me in tears so often - made me feel like a truly loved sap.

Thank you everyone. For your love, your support, your understanding, your donations, your cheerleader skills when I was training or just a few days ago when I was tweeting the walk away.

Much love!
Yvette

Yvette "likes" weird sicknesses

So since I apparently "like" (only in the sense of have frequently) weird illnesses, maladies and plagues, my body decided to give me another one. I mean finding out about mild lactose intolerance the "hard way", then being told I had swine flu when it was just good ol' flu wasn't enough for the past month. I mean going to the Galapagos with sunburn in the midst of that and elevation sickness weren't enough. No no no...

So I'm the girl who's stubborn and only 1 week after my 103 fever I flew to Chicago to participate in my walk thingy - the Overnight Walk benefitting the AFSP. I walked the whole damn thing (see my next post which will come shortly after this about that experience). I drank and porta-pottied my way through Chicago in the middle of the night to stay hydrated in the 70-86F weather.

There's my propensity for dehydration when I travel or exercise since I tend to over-caffenate and under-water myself. I was hyper concious of this taking on lots of Gatorade and a moderate amount of water during the walk. I didn't think I was drinking when I wasn't thirsty, but apparently...

I WAS!

After walking the 18 miles, I was exhaaauuuussted. I got done around 4am and we promptly went back to the hotel to crash. I smelled nearly as bad as my swimsuit from the Galapagos (see Confessions of a Skanktastic Swimsuit for context) so I claimed a shower. I climbed into bed around 5am and suddenly - without warning - realized I felt like crap and a few more fundamentally vulgar words. I was shivering madly, covered in a sheet and a blanket (considering the night before it was only a sheet and I was hot, that was a lot). I apparently was also whimpering periodically since Laura asked me what was wrong Head to toe in goosebumps I finally gave up and layered the down comforter across myself multiple times so as to not overheat Laura. I finally fell asleep for an hour.

I woke up sweaty and overheating - no surprise since I had the blanket on. I felt feverish and nauseated. I didn't wanna drink. I was shaking uncontrollably, weak and dizzy. After Laura got me sitting up and ice packed down, I finally thought "hospital time" so asked if I should go and they both emphatically agreed. At 7am I was in the ambulance on my way 3 blocks away to a fine Chicago ER. Carrie and Laura walked to meet me.. they WALKED after the night we had. I love them too!

So we get there and I was confused - I kept thinking I was dehydrated because I had all the symptoms... There was just one problem. I knew I'd consumed a metric ton of gatorade and water. Like holy hydration due to paranoia. But it felt like dehydration. Confused, naucous, whimpering, wanting to die rather than sit through that I got into the ER (with a very cute dr and a frazzled nurse) and eventually found out after being IVed and sitting around with Laura lying on the floor that I was OVER hydrated.

Overhydration is when you thin your blood out with too much liquid - especially water. So your blood levels get off whack for transporting oxygen On top of that your sodium level goes WAY down which causes an imbalance in cell osmosis since your cells start trying to re-sodium your blood stream etc to make up for your low sodium levels. It's a lot easier to treat than dehydration (eat salt and don't drink water or any fluid that doesn't contain salt, rather than a rehydration IV), however it feels vastly similar in symptoms.

Yup, I overhydrated. I still laugh and think it sounds ridiculous. I also know I was an idiot to think I was dehydrated, but whatever.

The hospital fed me saltines and told me to go eat potato chips all day and 24 hrs without water (if I needed to decotton my mouth I could swish and spit with water).

I'm finally off my water restriction and onto a mild water restriction where I'm supposed to drink as little as possible and stick to things like Gatorade as much as possible (Gatorade has electolytes like sodium).

So yeah, the sad thing about this is going to the ER and feeling like I'd rather die than sit through the way my body felt (ironic after a charity walk for suicide prevention - trust me, irony recognized), well, that entire fiasco made me miss my flight to NY yesterday. When I went to reschedule I had the realization that the rest the dr recommended was also probably a good thing and not something I was likely to get if I went running off to work and play hard in NY and then traipsing up into New England. So I'm missing my friends bigtime and wishing I could spend time with my peeps, but instead I'm in the Chicago airport on my way back to Seattle. Y'see, the cost of the flight change was reasonable for flying back to Seattle. It would've more than doubled my flight cost to do NY & VT. So that trip wasn't meant to be and I'll be visiting peeps at a later date for some good ol' friend time. I'm a sad Yvette in that I get ridiculous illnesses however I'm also starting to feel more human so that's probably good.

23 June 2009

Sociology of Spanglish Charades

It's been over 12 years since I last spoke Spanish. I don't count my holas in Cancun a few years ago at all - that place is annexed by tourism to English speakers.

My 2 weeks in Ecuador were filled with my atrocious Spanish. Every time someone would speak to me in Spanish I'd understand what they said and then on top of clamming up when trying to respond I just couldn't remember the right words. My vocabulary has gone to hell and hearing a word I'd remember what it meant but trying to pull that same word out of my brain was utterly futile. It was a very humbling experience; it was a very fun experience. It was insanely frustrating to my perfectionist side, embarrassing a lot of the time, slow, awkward, entertaining and a whole other gamut of emotions when trying to communicate.

Every Ecuadorian I talked to though was the most gracious person dealing with me - the bumbling American tourist who could partially butcher their language. They spoke slowly, repeated things, corrected my Spanish with the most manners ever and encouraged me more than anyone's ever encouraged me - to talk and learn their language. It was incredible - it was like they embraced me because they could tell me many many things and they wanted me to talk too.

I avoided speaking as much as possible. Except I spoke daily because it was just the way to get by - I found myself the translator so many times - most of the time doing more translating into English than Spanish, but sometimes just asking a simple question in Spanish. And sometimes I was translating for complete strangers in the hacienda or in the market.

I think the most amazing day of Spanish for me was when I went out in the Imbaburra Province with my bilingual guide Hans who had the most amazing grasp of English of any of the Ecuadorians I spoke to. He found out within 15 minutes of meeting me I understood him when he spoke Spanish so the entire day was an immersion in Spanish for me. It was probably one of the most amazing tours I've ever been on and that was no little part of it - the fact he was so warm, so inviting me into his culture, his community, his language - that made the day sparkle.

Then there were the other experiences I had speaking Spanish - and by other I don't mean bad, I mean utterly and totally hysterical. These were times that all put together rival the skanktastic swimsuit I wrote about last night....

On the ship my experience with Spanish was vastly different than when I was in the Andes. I wasn't the lone English speaker surrounded by Spanish. I got to speak English 90% of the time. However the only person in the "crew" who spoke English more than a few choice words (ie - shark, sealion, boat) was the national park guide - the other 7 crew members spoke Spanglish - Spanish with a smattering of English. They did it to varying degrees, some speaking at you regardless of if you understood it and others being very quiet.

I think of all the English speaking tourists on the ship, I probably understood the most. I know some of my shipmates were at varying states of learning Spanish, but I was talking to the crew at times. And my oh my - the crew was a cast of characters. Other than the pain-in-the-ass but really smart and a great storyteller national park guide, we had 7 other crew members - 1 woman in the entire group and the rest men. There were a few that stood out and come to the forefront of my story now because of my interactions with them.

So first of all I'll introduce Carlos the Engineer. Carlos dealt with all the mechanical and electrical woes of the ship. He also passed out life jackets, made sure we got in and out of the dingies safely, went snorkeling with us one day, spoke no English, helped Carlos the bartender / assistant captain get me flippers, hugged everyone on the ship, and talked at you in Spanish with tons of charades going on regardless of how much or how little you understood. He'd beam at me every time I went by to refill my water bottle cause I'd stop and have a 2 min convo in Spanish with him and he got to teach me some new words (which I won't write here cause I can't spell 'em - I learned sealion, snorkel, cactus, mask, flippers, dingy and a few others).

The second person to be introduced is Carlos the assistant captain who we saw in the role of bartender and dingy driver more than anything else. Carlos was on the younger side of our crew and he was really quiet. He'd stand at the bar grinning every day during happy hour, he'd monkey around the ship getting bananas down for banana pina coladas, he drove the dingy like a madman (his was the dingy to be in - so much faster than Gallos), and he only ever got really excited about the soccer game that happened when we were on our tour - he talked to me about that for quite a while when I had to ice my ankle after a snorkeling flipper stuck under rock incident.

Thirdly I'll introduce the least known character who provides the comic relief - Johan. Yes, like Hans I met an Ecuadorian named Johan. He was one of our cooks and we really never saw him other than at snack time when he'd give us our food / drink like little elementary school kids. He spoke less English than both Carloses combined and was very quiet - generally in the kitchen.

Finally, for names sake, our guide was Luis who spoke English fluently and was a pain in the tookus, but had the ability to be rather entertaining too. He also liked to try to get people to dance during happy hour. As my last post shows, I gave in right away since I'm a sucker for dancing.

So with this cast of characters in mind, my last 48 hrs on the ship progressed into what could only be described as the oddest set of occurrences I never expected on my vacation to the Galapagos.

Ecuadorian men are fans of the women and like the bad stereotype of the Latin man, just go with that image for a bit - but place it on the characters I've given you the briefest description of.

Now, on the last full day in the Galapagos, with only one night left on the boat, I'm walking along the beach relaxing, looking at sealions and mocking birds, enjoying the sun since I knew I had enough sunblock on. Luis is walking with me. All of a sudden this conversation occurred (much to my shock as Luis and I had a tenuous truce after our early snorkeling fiasco which I don't plan to write about here):
Luis: I have a question for you. Just one question. Hear me out.
Me: ooookay......
Luis: Do you like the crew?
Me: Yes, they're all really nice and helpful.
Luis: Do you like one person better than the rest?
Me: Nooo... They're all really nice. They're good people.
Luis: Are you sure there isn't just one?
Me: Yes, Luis, I'm sure.
Luis: I'm not so sure... but you're sure?
Me: They're all nice but there isn't one I like better. I promise...

At that point I'm holding back the peels of laughter that just want to emanate from my body. Am I back in elementary / middle school - seriously? Am I 12 again? Really? Did that pre-teen conversation just happen between 2 adults?? And I was part of it? And oh dear lord....

I tell Danielle; we giggle like preteens which is the only appropriate reaction to that other than the "seriously, are we 12?"

Later that day I'm reading out on the back of the boat after we eat lunch. Johan comes up to use his cell phone (yes, there was good cell reception in the islands even from the boat). A conversation occurs in Spanish which I'll translate / paraphrase here. Again, remember, I'm in the middle school twilight zone of the Galapagos - a place that occurs somewhere near Espanola Island when there's a woman on board who speaks some but not much Spanish and a bunch of lonely sailors.

Johan: Hi, I'm Johan.
Me: Hi.
Johan: Your name?
Me: Yvette.
Johan: Are you having a good trip?
Me: Yes.
Johan: Would you like to see the stars tonight?
Me: What?
Johan: Would you like to see the stars with me tonight? [yes, the clarification happened and was needed]
Me: Ummmm...
Johan: They're very pretty at night - the only light. Would you like to see the stars.
Me after stammering and forgetting all Spanish at the twilight zone I just realized I was in: I don't know....

End scene with Yvette walking (in my mind running) away.

Johan remained on deck and I hid in my cabin for a bit. He kept walking by the open window and smiling at me. Danielle was my bodyguard.

I ventured out on deck again wanting to get more air than our cabin provided and reclaim my reading spot, knowing Danielle would be along promptly. Johan passed by and asked if he could take my picture. With a big smile and a firm "no" he headed on his way and left me to my book.

Later that night I was out on the back deck alone again - dumb Yvette. I'd finished packing and left Danielle in our cozy snug little cabin to figure out her own packing thing. Most people went to sleep when the boat started moving and we were going, but it wasn't choppy so sitting on the deck in the gloriously fresh salt air seemed like a good idea. The crew knew I was there but left me alone - Johan just waved in passing, the captain asked if I was having a good night, Luis said to sleep well. And then overly friendly Carlos the engineer came by. He paused to say a few words and then continued on. But on his way back he stopped and asked if I wanted to climb to the top of the ship (generally off limits) and watch the stars with him. Holy f-in' a! Seriously? Amidst sparks of giggles (so glad my face wasn't visible most likely due to dim lighting), I strongly declined and he carried on his way. And, I'd like to add, there were no stars out with all the cloud cover that night. I sat out on the back deck for 45ish mins and not a single star was to be seen that entire time. Star watching? Pshaw snort giggle etc. Yes, I gave in to being 12 and laughed my ass off.

The next morning, still biting back laughter at the thought of the twilight zone Luis sat with Danielle and I as we were waiting to get off the ship. Carlos the bartender was around. Luis tells me in English to begin with but ending in Spanish... English part "you should learn Spanish"; Spanish part "because then he'll [Carlos] carry you away forever". I choked laughing as Carlos turned bright red. Luis never figured out I understood Spanish. I'd translated for Carlos a handful of times and had a full conversation with him about how I learned Spanish and about his obsession with football. Oh Luis, to think you never knew how many of your entirely inappropriate comments I understood. That one was just the icing on the cake!

Follow this up by our trip to the airport where upon getting all checked in by Luis and Johan, Luis goes around shaking hands and gives me a hug. Well this apparently caused Johan to grow some cajones really quickly because next thing I know he goes in for a hug (or so I thought) and plants a kiss on me. Shock. Shock I tell you. Just plain old shock. He hugged everyone else and all I could get through my head was "seriously? wow, guess he found his guts again..." along with more laughter.

Oh yes, sailors really do need to get off the boat more. Like seriously.

So there's my sociology experiment that says even when you can't communicate very well with people they still can confound you. And yes, I understood their words - I just was confounded by the surreal experience of being in the gorgeous galapagos with the random goings on of that 24 hrs. I was never creeped out; no one crossed lines; it was just beyond hysterical to me at the time and even to this day. I knew all I had to do was put on my swimsuit and I'd be safe from all advances.

Ahhh... now those are some memories of speaking Spanish in Ecuador I'll never forget. The brilliance of my tour with Hans, and the ridiculousness of Carlos, Carlos, Johan and Luis in the Galapagos. Thanks Ecuador. And thank you Senor for teaching me Spanish for 5 years so that at one point I was fluent - because it left enough Spanish in me to this day to know when I'm being randomly hit on - or to understand the history of a province... in SPANISH!

21 June 2009

Confessions of a Skanktastic Swimsuit

The living situation on the "yacht" (you'll see the reason for the quotes shortly) that we sailed around the Galapagos in were entertaining. It was a really nice little boat for 16 passengers, 7 crew members and 1 guide. However it was not luxurious by any stretch of the imagination - just comfy and pretty and well maintained for the most part.

We lived on all 3 layers of the ship. There were 3 cabins on the bottom, 1 on the main level and 4 on the upper level. They all contained bunk beds, a little shelving unit, life jackets and a bathroom that would make anyone clausterphobic. (Let's just say that even us short people didn't sit straight on the toilet cause then your knees hit the wall/door.) There was limited floor space - enough for 2 people to stand in but you definitely had to warn your roomie if you were trying to go around them cause a lurch of the ship (or just clumsiness) meant you were gonna touch in passing.

When trying to figure out the AC in the room we discovered just how tight our quarters were when Danielle from the upper bunk managed to kick me in the head. Ahh - memories of the many ways we nearly killed each other... This was a classic case of her kicking me and both of us nearly hyperventilating due to laughter, but the main one is yet to come.

Modesty went out the window within moments of entering our cabin. This being Danielle's and my first time spending more than a few hours together, it was all or nothing. Phrases like "warning, nudity ahead" were common. There was no bathroom discretion - note there was no standing room in the bathroom except the shower.

Now the other thing about these cabins was there were 2 temperatures - pleasantly warm with a sea breeze and humidity that kept the floor wet at all times or freeeeeezing with the little AC on full blast that didn't really help the humidity factor enough to dry out much of anything. Our towels never really dried (making the animal art they made from it everyday on the first half very cute but kinda gross too).

There were 2 main common areas on the ship. Most of the main level was a seating area and dining area and then on the upper deck there was a bar with another seating area. There were also a few lounge chairs out on the front deck but I avoided that area due to sunburn concerns. I was tomato-y enough already.

Now, I mentioned the towels not drying... And the intimacy of our cabin. However, this made for one unique situation for us. This may get gross and TMI for some people, but I find the memory still makes me laugh so hard I can't breath so I feel compelled to share...

So everyday we'd go snorkeling - generally 2 times per day. And we wore wetsuits we rented that hadn't been washed in who knows how long and were umpteen years old. Whatever. Afterwards I'd hang my swimsuit "to dry" in our bathroom knowing it wouldn't ever get dry. Everytime I put it on I groaned at the wet intimate areas which caused more giggling. About midway through Danielle took pity on me and used some of her clips to hang my suit out to dry after hers had dry. This meant hanging the suit in the main cabin rather than the bathroom in the open window so it'd pick up the breeze. Brilliant right? And thoughtful!! Man, karma had it in for us or something.

We came back from lunch to the most rank smell ever in our room. Ok, so it's questionable if it's worse than the duffel bag they gave Danielle to pack in (which of course we both smelled like the idiots we are - some people never learn that when one person says "eww - smell this" you really don't want to smell it not once, but twice). We walked in and gagged and laughed at the raunchiness that was our room. We thought Danielle's duffel had been let loose but it was safely in the rather smelly lifejacket cupboard growing something. And the smell emanated. I can't describe just how bad it was. I thought "maybe swimsuit?" but didn't take a good wiff thinking I would've noticed it just that morning when I wore it. Finally I gave in and smelled the suit and promptely ended up sitting on the floor crying from laughing because, yes, it was indeed my swimsuit.

I promptly swore I'd never wear it again and then realized we were going snorkeling later that day and there was no way I was letting my skanky swimsuit keep me from from the water. I washed it out in the shower with some detergent which calmed the smell but by no means got rid of it.

For the rest of the trip that suit was washed after every snorkel and still the smell lingered - not as pungent but definitely present.

When snorkeling, I only saw one shark.. most people saw a dozen. To this day I know I never would've been hammerhead bait because I smelled like rotten meat and they like it fresh. That's probably why I didn't see a shark - they swam away quickly when they smelled me coming.

The suit came home with me (my shoes did not - the shoe smell was a whole other story and Danielle and Amy are fighting their shoes - I didn't need another smell battle so mine are still growing somewhere in the Galapagos creating a biohazard). The suit is now hanging in my laundry bathroom. It's been through the washer 3 times. It doesn't smell. I'm still however never going to be able to put it on without smelling it and laughing.

Yes, I wore the skanky swimsuit. Maybe that's how I got iguana flu??

16 June 2009

Puppy Love

Sealions are the puppies of the sea (except the bulls). Arf arf!

When you first see a sealion being lazy on the bench at the "bus stop" where you pick up the boat you may think "wow, look how close we are..." Oh little tourist, you have no idea how close you'll be.

Sealions are everywhere - on nearly every island - they breed like rabbits. The bulls (males) have a harem of women who produce 1-2 babies every 9 months (same as a human gestation). We met our first inquisitive sealion when our guide made the arfing sound and a baby came to explore thinking his mamma had come back full of nummy-yummy milk (babies are left alone for ~3 days while the mom feeds etc - so they're anxious when feeding time comes around). Lil' McSealion-sons was a precocious lil' sealion looking up on of the girls skirts. I thought this was abnormal - woe is me.

Their cute lil' faces are really that cute in person; their whiskers tickle when they sniff you and their noses are wet with saltwater and slobber.

They aren't all cuteness and joy - they can smell rather... nasty! Like a farm really - mmm - manure.

However, then one waddles up to you on land and looks at you out of those big eyes with that cute lil' snout and you forget that it smells literally like shit and you say "awww". And if the sealion's really smart it does a little back bend thingie that is sealion yoga of "take my picture" and the tourist melts.

Now, after you've been thoroughly sniffed on land and deemed "not mamma" you then get to meet sealions at play. On land only the babies are curious - in the sea, you're everyone's toy.

Go swimming anywhere near a sealion and they'll say hi - right in your mask! Feel a tug on a flipper? Nah, that's not a shark - that's a sealion. They nibble on each other all the time and when you're snorkeling, you're just another playmate. They twine about each other and you so quickly it's disorienting.

My favorite was the utter joy of playing tug of war with sealions. At the time I was mildly broken having gotten my foot trapped under a rock in a cave. I decided to ride the dingy since I couldn't really kick. We ended up in a little cove that was protected from the ocean with about 6 sealions at play. Gallo (the sailor driving the dingy) had me toss the rope in to play tug-of-war with the sealions - they fought each other to have the rope and we pulled 3-4 sealions around at any point in time. Swollen immobile ankle forgotten I jumped in so I could see them playing tug of war better with me and I was at one end while they were at the other. It was utter delight - except I couldn't laugh or smile cause then I ended up with either a mask full or a mouth full of seawater... So I drank a lot of seawater.

Now I don't want a puppy - I want a sealion. A cute lil' prosh lil' sealion.

09 June 2009

From the Galapagos Con Amor

I´m in the Galapagos. I´m not speaking nearly as much spanish but I´m one of the only gringos on board who speaks any so some of the crew on the ship likes that.

I´ve been here for 4 days and we have 4 more left. It´s been fantabulous so far. I´ll regale everyone with pictures pictures pictures when I get back (I already have about 8gigs of pictures some of which are crap so be warned).

I´m not even sure what my favorite thing has been. I think the playfulness of the sealions when you swim with them is one (yes, nose to nose swimming). I think the crazy blue footed booby mating dance is ridiulous. I think it´s far far far too hot here. I´m not at all surprised that within 24 hrs I had massive sunburn and I had to buy more sunscreen.

The boat´s interesting - part luxurious and part cramped. The bunks make me laugh quite a bit since they´re so much tinier than Semester at Sea. But they´re big enough to get by so that´s all I care about. I don´t think I´ll ever desalinate though.

Our average day is 2 or 3 hrs of nature walks and 2 hours of snorkeling. I´ve swam with sharks although I haven´t actually seen one while swimming which makes everyone laugh since Amy and Danielle have both seen many many white finned sharks.

And those are my firs timpressions of the Galapagos. I´ll write more later when I have pictures to post with it. And yes, I love my underwater camera case - it´s coming in amazing for pictures. I definitely have at least 3 stellar pictures from that alone - sealion, angel fish and turtle.

Adios amigos mios.

03 June 2009

De Agato Ecuador a Rhinebeck NY USA

Buenas tardes from Ecuador. I´m in San Pablo Del Lago at Hacienda Cusin and I´m having a fantastic stay here.

I spent my first full day in Ecuador getting used to the altitude and being partially sick. I also hiked for 3 hrs which probably didn´t help things.

Yesterday was my second day in Ecuador and I took a 4 hour horseback ride up to see a volcano up close and in person. Sadly I have no pictures from the ride because it was rather treacherous and I was more concerned with staying on my horse and having it not break a leg than taking pictures. I´ll show yáll on Google Earth where it was.. Vulcan Imbrabura.

And today was the most whirlwindy of all. I went on a guided tour of the province of Imbrabura. Each town here is known for some form of artistry. I´m not a big shopper and I didn´t bring much cash with me so I didn´t come away with all the beautiful things I saw but I learned a ton from my bilingual guide Hans. He made me speak Spanish all day much to my dismay / embarassment because 5 minutes after I was in his car he found out I actually truly understand it and wanted me to practice. It was incredibly endearing really albeit I´m braindead now.

The weirdest thing is what makes the title of this post..... I went to a town called Agato today that´s about 30 mins from where I´m staying here. It´s famous for the weaving and the master weaver of the town gave me a demonstration that I can´t possibly describe othe rthan it´s truly authentic, takes crazy concentration and precision and looks incredibly hard. He makes everything from scratch in the Andean style. Well after the demo I went to his shop where there were some newspaper articles. One of the articles was about how he did a demo at the Smithsonian. And the other was a set of articles from when he, his daughter and his wife went to the Rhinebeck Crafts Fair in 1989. Yup, that´s right. This little old man from Agato Ecuador that weaves everything from scratch in the most beautiful way and his barefoot spinning wife who fed me popcorn have been to RHINEBECK. Holy small world after all!!! I was so floored with excitement I could barely explain to Miguel (the weaver) in Spanish that he´d been to my hometown. It was sooo neat and his wife was adorable and gave me a hug for it.

Ahhh this is a good trip already. Tomorrow I´m back to the capitol of Quito and then Friday I fly to the Galapagos with Amy, Danielle and our tour group for aweek!!

I´ve already seen condors and eagles and kestrels and lots of random farm animals and volcanos... yet I´m still excited for the Galapagos.

Adios de Ecuador.