2009 has proved to be a very difficult one for me. For the first 5 months or so of the year I felt like I was suffering from severe reverse culture shock. Those months were so hard. Days were long, I skipped classes frequently in favor of staying in bed or just laying around at home. It was hard to face the world those days. In March I bought a plane ticket to Israel in part to keep a promise to a friend and in part to keep a promise to myself. When I took my first trip abroad to the Bahamas and then to Costa Rica in 2007 I made a promise to myself that I would do my best to travel internationally at least once a year from then out. So far, I’ve kept that promise to myself.

That trip to Israel was my saving grace this year. It served to remind me of how much goodness there is in life if you seek it out. It was such a personal experience that I never did write anything about my trip in a public forum, but I have journal entries that attest to the monumentality of the experience. After coming back to the States, however, those very same feelings that overwhelmed me at the beginning of this year started reemerging.

These last several months I have found myself swinging to emotional extremes. They say the best way to get over one love lost is to find another one. August presented just that. The months that followed were so challenging but there was someone in my life who could make everything feel okay for the time that we were together. A wonderful distraction. As things started unraveling at the beginning of November my life did as well. Or rather, the distraction was no longer there and I was left with no escape from a reality I didn’t want to face.

Tormenting feelings have intensified over the last couple of weeks. Feelings of inadequacy, fear, helplessness, broken heart, mourning. It finally occurred to me last night that the feeling of mourning is for myself. I feel like I left a very significant part of who I am behind in Argentina. A girl who was carefree and full of so much life. A girl who was fearless. That aspect of fearlessness is what I find myself searching for these days. Fearlessness and strength.

I have spent the last few days pondering over what kind of resolutions I want to make for the coming year but I have yet to write them all down yet. However, one thing is nonnegotiable: another travel experience is necessary. Initially, I was hell-bent on Cuba — then Colombia. While either of those may still happen later on next year, I kept recalling the singular thought I kept having as I was traveling around the cono del Sur in Uruguay, Argentina, and Chile: this is what I imagine my country to look like, but I’ve never seen most of it, so I don’t know. With that in mind, my best friend and I have wanted to go on a Great American Road Trip since high school graduation and that seems to be exactly the experience I want and need at this point in my life. My best friend, the radio, a couple of cameras in tow, and a paper map. The Jack Kerouac-style adventure that I believe is the best way to experience what America is all about. These coming months I will share the trip-planning process and, of course, the subsequent adventure of exploring our country and its diverse people, landscapes, and cultures.

With that, I move to ring in the new year reflecting on the many incredible adventures of the past and looking to the wild ride that lies ahead.

Other posts you might be interested in:

• March 17, 2009 -- Why to Join a CSA and Criteria to Look For
• January 21, 2009 -- No End in Sight

If I were to give you a summary of what my summer consisted of, those photos would almost tell it all. There was abundance. Abundance of incredible food, amazing friends, and great experiences. There was learning to sew, learning to bake bread, learning more Hebrew. This summer was by far my favorite of all the years past, and I hope they continue to top one another. I have learned much, loved hard, and laughed often. I have remembered to appreciate the little things, find joy in almost everything, and live each moment as fully as possible.

This past weekend was Rosh Hashanah, and Friday night my roommate, Nicole, and I hosted a dinner party for friends. It was the beginning of a fabulous weekend which I believe only hints at the goodness and further abundance that will follow me into autumn.

Most Commented Posts

• August 26, 2008 -- The road always leads west.
• March 27, 2009 -- How to Become a World Traveler, Step 1
• October 16, 2008 -- Un conversación en “Spanglish” entre amigos

Conquer your fears.

This suggestion applies to many areas of life, especially travel. Whether it’s traveling to a particular location or region of the world, a mode of travel, or the act of leaving your comfort zone for the great unknown, travel is all about being bold and brave. Recent weeks have found me in a holding pattern scared of taking any steps forward in fear that I will fall flat on my face. A much-needed pep talk from my mom and inspiring words of Tim Ferriss from 4HWW, I’ve begun taking steps towards a life and a future after graduation. However, I feel as though I have become jaded lately. I’m letting constraints of a civilized society tell me what I can and cannot do, but really, I don’t want a life that fits the constraints and norms of said society so why should I let those boundaries dictate my reality?

“If you are insecure, guess what? The rest of the world is, too. Do not overestimate the competition and underestimate yourself. You are better than you think.” – Timothy Ferriss, The Four Hour Workweek, p. 50

I am pretty much all set to graduate in December of this year and my post-graduation plans are rather unconventional in American society, but not so much so in many other countries in the world, including, but not limited to: the U.K., Australia, and Israel. Provided everything goes according to my plan (which we all know would be a rare occurrence), I will be taking a gap year of sorts, that will hopefully turn into more than a year of delaying the real world. I haven’t talked about religion or spirituality here, but I’m in the process (and have been for over a year) of converting to Orthodox Judaism. In order to complete that process I want to go a seminary in Israel for a year and then after that–G-d only knows.

This year is all about working to save up the money I will need to pay for the seminary and my living expenses for next year, as well as a few things I’m hoping to purchase before I leave, like a ticket to Israel this summer in July, a better lens for my Nikon d70, an external flash, and a new laptop (that I’m hoping I can swindle as a graduation gift). This year is an act of extreme budgeting, setting goals and extensively tracking my progress on them, and getting everything arranged for when I leave. Before I left for Argentina last summer, I spent the greater part of a month going through every single item I own and deciding whether or not it was worth keeping because all of belongings (furniture included) had to fit into a tiny 5×5 foot storage unit. That process continued when I got back and had acquired a new sense of what was necessary in life after spending six months living with only what fit into my two suitcases. I’ll talk more about this in a later post, but this time since I don’t know when I’ll be coming back, the goal has been to minimize to the point that I only have a few boxes, and all of my stuff can fit in the attic at my dad’s house to save myself $100 a month paying for a storage facility.

Finally, upon the realization that I’d like to travel for a year or so after seminary, I knew I needed to get a form of somewhat passive income set up so I can “work” remotely. There are several movements and philosophies toward this goal, several of which I have linked to at the end of this post under ‘further reading’. Even before travel was on the agenda, I always knew that I wanted live all over the world and move fairly often and I needed a way to make money even if I live in a country where I don’t speak the language well enough to get a job there. I’m getting a TEFL (Teach English as a Foreign Language) Certificate upon graduation, but I’ve always had an interest in photography and writing, so I’m hoping to expand photography into an LLC and foray into freelance writing. Both of these goals have put an extreme amount of fear into me lately. Fear of failure, fear of the amount of work will have to go into both to make either a profitable venture, fear of the amount of patience it will require from me, the list could go on. But as weeks have passed the desire to be successful in photography and writing has grown in correlation with my desire to travel, live a life outside of the mainstream, and eventually be a stay at home mother. These growing desires have shown me that I cannot afford to be so afraid of failure that I don’t even try to succeed.

In order to succeed, your desire for success should be greater than your fear of failure. — Bill Cosby

Also, a little pep talk from my mom never hurt. Through everything she has been my unwavering support system. When I wanted to go to college out of state, she helped make it happen. When I wanted to go study in Argentina, she helped me get everything ready. When I explained my desire to convert to Judaism, she took the initiative to learn more about it and tell me how proud she was of me. And now, as I look to pursue a career i writing and photography, she has been my cheerleader, telling me how good she thinks I am and encouraging me to find and take advantages of opportunities to make it happen. On days when I didn’t believe in myself, she never stopped.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.  Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.  It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.  We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?  Actually, who are you not to be?  You are a child of God.  Your playing small does not serve the world.  There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.  We are all meant to shine, as children do.  We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.  It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone.  And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.  As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”  – Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of “A Course in Miracles,” 1992 (commonly misattributed to Nelson Mandela, 1994 inauguration speech)

As I start to take my first steps towards an unclear future, I encourage you to do the same, whether it is in travel or in life, as the two are forever linked in my mind. The more I travel the more I become aware of myself and others. There is a common humanity that exists between people of all cultures: common hopes, common fears, and common dreams.

___________________________

Further reading:

• Zen Habits – A Guide to Beating the Fears that are Holding You Back
• The Four Hour Workweek
• Lifestyle Project
• Location Independent

Most Commented Posts

• August 26, 2008 -- The road always leads west.
• March 27, 2009 -- How to Become a World Traveler, Step 1
• October 16, 2008 -- Un conversación en “Spanglish” entre amigos

After making my way through Customs and Security at the Buquebus port (I have an Uruguayan stamp on my passport now!) I had time to kill before we could board. Shortly after I had weaved my way through all the people and found somewhere to sit down they called us to board and everyone rushed to find their luggage. (I only mention this because I found it interesting that everyone had merely lined their luggage up by the gate to reserve their place in line so they wouldn’t have to stand there the whole time. No one seemed concerned that someone might possibly snatch their belongings and they weren’t fearful, like Americans are, that someone is always out to get them. Granted, most were sitting no more than 20 feet away from their belongings and well, we’re waiting to board a boat in a security-cleared section of the port  so it’s not like one would have somewhere to run should they choose to steal someone’s bag, but it was a  fascinating dichotomy between the culture of the United States and that of Latin America.) Since the line snaked its way through the waiting area I walked all the way back to the back and found a place to sit down until it was moving. Aforementioned place just happened to be across the table from a cute boy. I sat and watched the line for a few minutes and it didn’t move so I said a quick thank you that I had thought to bring reading material for my classes (eschewing my copy of Anna Karenina because it’s obscenely heavy and I really needed to catch up since finals were the following two weeks). Every so often I would look up and glance at the line to see if any progress had been made and then divert my eyes over the boy before resuming my reading. Ten minutes passed and the line still didn’t move so most everyone tried to find places to sit down again. Fifteen minutes passed and still nothing, but I hear, “Estás estudiando?” from across the table and so I look up.

We ended up talking for ten minutes or so before, once again, everyone lined back up where their luggage was sitting on the floor. We walked together to the end of the line, talked, and I ran through my mental checklist that is required when you meet cute boys here: Does he have all his teeth? Check. Taller than me? Check. No rattail in his hair? Ch–wait–what’s that right there? Crap. We walked down the plank and boarded the ferry where I maybe exclaimed a little too much and a little too loudly about how cool it was. Picture a cruise ship, but smaller and you might have it. The seats were so wide and squishy and so much better than any airplane I’ve ever been on, though admittedly, I’ve never flown anything but economy class. But I was “economy class” on this ferry and I felt like a high-roller! We talked for a bit after sitting down, he asked if I could understand the safety video providing instructions on how to put on a life jacket and I was forced to confess that I never pay attention. As the video continued they showed people practicing the evacuation procedure which include sliding down a big plastic slide off the boat into a blow-up raft and all the sudden I was hoping something tragic happened because that slide looked like the kind of fun you’d have at an amusement park!

The boat finally left the dock at one in the morning and I quickly drifted off to sleep since the boat didn’t even rock. It was four in the morning when we docked in Colonia after some strong winds delayed us for a bit, and Federico and I quickly transferred onto the bus to Montevideo. At 6:45 we stepped off the bus into the welcoming gray skies and freezing cold temperatures of South America’s most laid-back capital. I, however, had failed to check the weather before I left (actually, I don’t ever check the weather here) and had packed like I was headed to plop myself on the beach for a few days and not move. After reading several guide book descriptions of places in Uruguay and talking to people I had chosen La Paloma or Punta del Diablo as my destination because they were described as “little surf towns” and I’ve always wanted to learn to surf. Besides, the rich and famous scene with their perfectly toned bodies slicked in tanning oil, dressed in designer labels and overpriced designer sunglasses, of Punta del Este is not for me.

Once inside the warmth of the bus station Federico came with me to the ticket counters to inquire about times. The next bus leaves at 7 and it’s full–there’s another at 10. We try a different company–bus leaves at 8 and I hand the attendant my card. It’s a five hour ride to Punta del Diablo and eight hours from there back to Colonia where I’m supposed to meet the rest of my study abroad program at noon the next day. Registering all of this, talking it over with Federico, and taking into account the weather which is beyond miserable from all the 80 degree, sunny days we had been having in Buenos Aires, I decide it’s not worth it. I’m offered a free place to stay and a tour around the city if I want it so the ticket gets cancelled and another is booked to Colonia for the following morning.

After a short taxi ride we make it to his apartment where he lives with his sister and several friends. I’m shown a bed to take a nap in and immediately fall asleep until around 11. We eat a meager breakfast, which for me at this point just consists maté, and if you ever thought it wasn’t possible for there to exist a people who likes maté more than the Argentineans, well, you’re in luck. You just have to make a short trip across the Rio de la Plata where you will, most assuredly, find Uruguayans who drive with a thermos tucked under their arm, a maté in their hand, and the other on the steering wheel with their head ever so slightly leaned forward to sip out of the bombilla.

After talking for a little over an hour and showers are had Federico and I make our way to the bank and then to the supermercado where we pick up ingredients for lunch. Lunch gets made, friends come and go throughout, and a plan is hatched to go take a walk and show me around a little bit of the city. Maté in hand the three of us (Fede, his sister, and me) set out walking and after several blocks the temperature noticeably drops a few degrees. We finally are standing across the street from a wild and thrashing ocean and the wind is whipping across our faces and tangling my hair.

We continue walking and make our way over to a park and the closer we get the faint of drumming gets louder. I probably got way too excited and so we continue walking in the direction of the music until we come across this:

The group, Lata Sónica, was absolutely incredible. They were using all recycled materials as their instruments so you can see things such as plastic waste recepticles flipped upside down to be used as drums, as well as metal cans that are also used for trash cans in some areas but that you see more often in movies of big cities where the homeless have used them to build fires inside of. They also had what appeared to be mutlicolored plastic gasoline canisters, and instruments built out of PVC pipes that they were using paddles to tap the open end of the pipe to create the sound. It was by far one of the coolest things I’ve seen since being down here and the vibe was incredible. The crowd was mostly older teenagers and people in their 20s and were unmistakeably local by evidence of the 80s fashions that are the norm in Buenos Aires and apparently Montevideo as well, and the prevalence of maté. As is common with most social gatherings in parks, plazas, and just walking down the street, the smell of marijuana wafts through the air.

The group played for a good half an hour after we got there and then broke down the set. We walked around the rest of the park, took a break on a boulder next to the lake, and talked about the nuances of the English language. I tried my best to clarify what it is we mean when we use phrases such as, “Here you go,” “Here you are,” “There you go,” and “There you are.” Reader, please take a minute to consider those phrases for a minute and look at them from the perspective of someone learning English as a second language. We don’t make it easy, do we? I did my best to clarify, but I suppose I should get much better at it before becoming an English teacher!

After the park we walked back to the apartment were Fede quickly changed as he had a wedding and a reception to attend that night with his roommate. I learned to tie a tie and was able to give assistance to his roommate who was having a hell of a time getting it so that the skinny part didn’t come out longer than the wider portion that is in front. After about 20 tries we both gave up and he ended up tucking the skinny part into his shirt between two buttons.

After the boys left I took another nap (this was a running theme for the weekend) and woke up around 10. One of his roommates was in the kitchen watching TV when I woke up. Leg propped up from a sprained ankle from playing fútbol (soccer) I joined him to watch the remainder of Gladiator. Florencia had run to buy two litres of beer and we sat around drinking and talking about capitalism, Argentine politics, Uruguayan politics, socialism and I’m sure various others. The entire conversation was in Spanish and very passionate and I was so proud of myself for being able to hold my own and understand everything being said to me.

Around 1 in the morning Florencia and I left with her boyfriend to go grab dinner and some more beer. We returned to their apartment shortly after as I had a bus to Colonia to catch at 7:45.

The rest of my adventures in Uruguay will continue with Part II in Colonia.

Most Commented Posts

• August 26, 2008 -- The road always leads west.
• March 27, 2009 -- How to Become a World Traveler, Step 1
• October 16, 2008 -- Un conversación en “Spanglish” entre amigos

One thing that I was warned about continuously before I left for study abroad in Argentina, at orientation once I’d arrived, and for several weeks after was culture shock. Many symptoms were given and we (me and my fellow study-abroad buddies) were offered unending amounts of support and provided numbers to call if we need to talk to someone. But one thing they neglect to elaborate on is the reverse culture shock you face upon returning home. In fact, reverse culture shock was something that was mentioned in passing as we prepared to leave, and something that professors, friends, and family back home don’t know anything about and thus, usually end up frustrated with you because they don’t understand why you’re acting the way you are: critical of anything and everything American, suffering from depression, withdrawal from friends or activities you would normally enjoy, loneliness, and the list goes on.

Initially, it was great to be back State-side, able to see friends and family, but in a matter of weeks I was ready to go back. I was so bored here and threw myself into anything I could think of to make things exciting. I signed up for cooking classes, I went to the Fernbank Museum to check out an IMAX film I was interested in, I took up knitting, and I even picked up my guitar from Birmingham and decided that this was going to be the year I finally made good on that goal to learn to play guitar. But none of these things could even remotely compare to strapping on a 25-pound backpack and hiking around Patagonia by yourself for two and a half weeks. Or constantly meeting new people, taking classes in Spanish, taking weekend trips, and just living and breathing a new culture and new surroundings. Even just getting lost at least once a week or having to constantly check my Guia T to figure out which combination of buses I would have to take to reach my desired destination was enough to stir up the pot and keep things interesting. And then here you are, back where everything is familiar. The language is boring, the sites are the same, the mode of transportation is one you’re familiar with, and classes seem the most wasteful thing after you’ve spent 5 months writing 10 page, 1.5-spaced papers in Spanish and you come back to a country where students grumble about writing a 5 page, double-spaced paper in their native language.

I did some reading a few weeks ago to understand what it is exactly I am going through emotionally and how to deal with it, and one of the sites I came across mentioned that the longer you were gone, or the more you immersed yourself if your host culture, the more likely it is that you yourself have changed so much that a previous notion of ‘normalcy’ will be hard to cope with and thus, the harder the reverse culture shock is likely to hit you. I don’t consider 5 months to be a significantly long amount of time abroad considering, but I don’t know that it would’ve been possible for one to adjust to a new culture better than I did.

“First, research suggests that the better a student adjusts to the host country, the worse the reverse culture shock will be (Bochner, 1973). This is due to the fact a person who adjusts readily can accept new ideas, is more of a risk taker, can meet and talk with people from many different countries and be happy with the stimulation that they find everyday. When this same person goes home, they may readjust poorly because their new ideas conflict with tradition. In other words, they can not find any internationally minded people and finds no stimulation in the country they already know so well.” — source

As I was watching a show on TV yesterday evening a commercial came on that really resounded with me. It was an advertisement from the Michigan tourism board and as it portrayed images of happy people walking around, dancing, and dining, the voiceover declared, “When we get to a place where no one knows us, we become most ourselves,” or something to that effect. I sat there stunned for about 30 seconds as I repeated it to myself a few times thinking how true that statement really is. While it sucks that most of time friends and family don’t understand the magnitude of your experiences, it’s even harder to realize that they don’t understand to what extent you have changed as a result of those experiences.

I still haven’t figured a way to drag myself out of the funk I’ve been in ever since I got back, but I have enrolled in more cooking classes, I’m still attempting to teach myself how to play the guitar, and I’ve cast on (and knit!) several rows of a scarf that I plan to have finish before next autumn. That being said, the only thing that has served to occupy my mind is focusing on upcoming travel plans, an impending graduation in December, and the hope that I will get to return to mi Argentina querida sooner rather than later.

Most Commented Posts

• August 26, 2008 -- The road always leads west.
• March 27, 2009 -- How to Become a World Traveler, Step 1
• October 16, 2008 -- Un conversación en “Spanglish” entre amigos

photo credit: neil k.

Take the first step.

One of the things I miss the most about mis amigos argentinos (I include my study abroad program friends in this group) is their spontaneity. I could literally call up a friend on a Friday afternoon and say, “I’ve got to get out of this concrete jungle,” and the response on the other end would be, “I’ll meet you at the bus station in two hours.” This is very similar to how my trip to San Antonio de Areco started. But here, it’s not like that. I can mention weeks in advance of Spring Break that I want to go to New Orleans, and while initially I will receive an excited, affirmative response, as the date nears it becomes more and more apparent that the trip isn’t going to happen. In hopes of taking a trip somewhere I suggest Charleston–I’ll drive, all they have to do is pay for their food, hostel, and any excursions. This trip also falls through due to ‘money’ or lack thereof. This is how all of my trips with friends from the States go, or more appropriately, don’t go. It could very well be that I’m simply not hanging out with the right people, and if that’s the case, new best friends–where are you?

There’s a lot of interesting information in the much-linked post, Why You Should Quit Your Job and Travel Around the World, about money and whether we spend our money and live our lives in accordance with our values and also about delayed gratification. These are topics that many personal finance bloggers talk about and affect all areas of one’s life. However, for the moment I’d like to focus on one of the other arguments people like to use as a reason not to travel:

My dad, who recently turned 53, just acquired his first passport this year. He is currently planning a trip to France for this summer, which is fabulous and at least he’s finally doing it, but all I can think about is how different travel is when you’re younger: you have less responsibilities and you are physically capable of doing things that you most likely won’t be capable or willing to do when you’re retired, or even in your 30s and 40s.

This is usually when people throw in the argument about money–about how expensive it is to travel. Sure, it can be expensive, but it can also be cheap. Whether you travel cheaply or more expensively is up to you, and so is where you spend your money. I have many friends who constantly talk about not having money, but they go out to eat several times a week, buy a pack of cigarettes every two days, and go out to bars and clubs on the weekends. All that money adds up and it adds up quickly. It’s a matter of where you place your values. I’ve learned to scale back on other things (like eating out, buying lattes, getting my hair cut professionally, etc.) to have money for the things that are important to me (photography, travel, cooking classes, etc.).

Tomorrow, March 28, is Passport Day here in the U.S. If travel is something you’ve always wanted to do, but always made excuses not to, make an appointment to get your passport pictures taken, or better yet, head to your local post office and complete the entire painless application process today! If you already have your passport, pick a destination you’ve always wanted to visit and rearrange your budget so you can start saving for your trip right now. Jonathan Larson originally penned the phrase, but it goes through my head constantly and holds true for everything: No day but today.

“Have a bias toward action – let’s see something happen now. You can break that big plan into small steps and take the first step right away.” — Indira Gandhi

Most Commented Posts

• August 26, 2008 -- The road always leads west.
• March 27, 2009 -- How to Become a World Traveler, Step 1
• October 16, 2008 -- Un conversación en “Spanglish” entre amigos

To my fellow former porteños,
In case any of you are terribly sad and missing our Buenos Aires querido, I bring you the joy of knowing that you can now have a little piece of Buenos Aires with you everyday. Remember the infamous diaper pants? What with the banded legs, the drop crotch, and the thigh areas that could hold many litres of medialunas? Well, I’ll have you know that you can now order them from our very own Urban Outfitters for the small price of US$58.00.

Urban Outfitters

And if any of you actually purchase these or snuck a pair into your luggage without the rest of us knowing, you should know that the fashion police will find you. (Edited for this blog to add: Oh, look! They already have!)

And then the snarky comments ensued, my favorite of which was the following from Aislinn:

Well, I like to wear them when I carry my baby kangaroo. It makes for a larger pouch.

From the listings I’ve found, it seems these pants are known to the “fashion élites” as Harem pants, but, as I scoured the web for photos I came across numerous nicknames that are far more fitting such as poopy pants, shitcatchers, Hammer pant (a la M.C. Hammer), and my personal favorite, diaper pants. I thought my friend Liz was pure genius when she gave them this name as we were walking down the street–I’m sure on one of our many “all-day lunches” around the city. Apparently she wasn’t the first.

Finally, to top it all off, as I was doing a little image research for this post I came across this little gem:

I Dream of Genie Pants, take 2

If you do not check out the above link you are missing out on a lifetime of laughs. And as a little tribute to my former hometown and fashion that apparently is not limited solely to the calles and boliches of Buenos Aires, but rather has been touted all over the runways for spring collections in Paris, Milan, and now the US, I leave you with this photo montage of this major fashion don’t:

For an additional slideshow of the variety of styles offered by every fashion label check out Shop Style. To wrap this post up, there was a question posed on Elle.com: How can I make spring’s slouchy trousers work well for me? My answer? Unless your name is Lawrence of Arabia or you live in Tunisia, you can’t. I rest my case.

Other posts you might be interested in:

• December 21, 2008 -- Mi Buenos Aires querido
• December 17, 2008 -- On Culture Shock
• November 8, 2008 -- Esperanzas Verdaderas

photo credit: stuckincustoms

Borobudur. And maybe I also wish my photography was that fabulous.

Happy Monday!

Most Commented Posts

• August 26, 2008 -- The road always leads west.
• March 27, 2009 -- How to Become a World Traveler, Step 1
• October 16, 2008 -- Un conversación en “Spanglish” entre amigos

“But I also know this: that however well government does its job; however hard we work to make good plans and policies and restore a sense of responsibility to Washington, our problems cannot be solved by government alone – or even mostly by government. It’s going to take all of us, putting our shoulder to the wheel, doing our part to remake this nation.

That’s why we’ve called on the American people to come together and devote their time and effort to work in their communities today. And that’s why we chose this particular day, when we honor a man who lived his life as a servant to his fellow citizens – and whose greatness can be measured not just in his own extraordinary contributions, but in how he inspired others to contribute.

So today, I am asking you to roll up your sleeves and join in the work of remaking this nation. I pledge to you that government will do its part to open up more opportunities for citizens to participate. And in return, I ask you to play your part – to not just pitch in today, but to make an ongoing commitment that lasts far beyond one day, or even one presidency.”

I signed the Declaration of Service to volunteer 50 hours of my time annually to my community. I attended two orientations at 2 hours each for a total of 4 completed hours so far this year. I will be teaching English to immigrants on Tuesday evenings through a local non-profit organization. I’m looking forward to meeting all my students on Tuesday and the opportunity to make some Spanish-speaking friends. It’s also a huge bonus that it allows me to get experience teaching English as a foreign language since I’m getting the TEFL certificate as part of my university studies.

Just to get you started there are several databases online you can search through to find a volunteer opportunity in your community:

USA Service
Idealist.org
Do Something
Network for Good

I hope that you all will help me to help our president bring change to the White House. Also, care to share some of your goals you plan on accomplishing this year?

“Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.” — Barack Obama

Other posts you might be interested in:

• January 21, 2009 -- No End in Sight

I intended to make a post before the new year between being homeless in Atlanta for two days, moving into my apartment on the 1st, and school starting back up on the 5th, seeing everyone, and falling back into the folds of life in America I haven’t had very much free time. I have lots to tell you all about, including several posts about my final adventures in Argentina, as well as ones from Uruguay that never got put up. I thought for a while about what kind of content I would put on here once I was back living in the States because I don’t want to resort to rambling about my daily life, however amusing or uninteresting it may be at times. I did make a promise to myself before I left Argentina, though, that I would figure out whatever it was that made life so exciting for me there and incorporate it into my life here. That answer meant living more like a tourist: visiting museums, checking out special attractions, visiting theatres and cool restaurants, and the list just goes on. But the more I thought about it the more I realized that living like a tourist just means more of simply living. That could also be reversed to living simply. I intend to do both.

Since that New Year’s post never gotten written I figure I’ll give a basic outline of my “resolutions,” which are really just goals which I can measure based on the calendar year. I vowed to visit more cultural sights in Atlanta and do things that people visit Atlanta to do. Here is my list for the year and I will add it to the sidebar shortly so you all can keep track of my progress over the year:

- check out the Fernbank Museum
- visit the High
- learn to play guitar
- take a cooking class
- run a half-marathon
- go to the Bremen Jewish Museum
- see the Cyclorama
- ride Marta buses
- visit one place in the U.S. I have never been
- get an international driver’s license (with motorcycle class)
- read one book for pleasure every month
- volunteer at least once a month

Also, in order to keep things interesting on the travel front, I have one major trip in the works for this summer out of the country, several smaller trips I plan to take over the course of the year hiking, camping, and backpacking, as well as plans to visit New Orleans again along with one other U.S. city I have never been. Here’s an added catch: I decided it would be fun to incorporate Greyhound and Amtrak into my upcoming adventures, so I’m sure I’ll have stories to tell.

With that, I need to get some reading done before class, but know that I have many exciting posts coming soon!

Other posts you might be interested in:

• December 23, 2009 -- 525,600 minutes
• March 17, 2009 -- Why to Join a CSA and Criteria to Look For
• January 26, 2009 -- Be the Change