One week ago yesterday I landed in Denver. My uncle dick picked me up from the aiport and dropped me off at my apartment in Broomfield. I was expecting a key under the doormat, but it wasn't there, so I got one from the leasing office. It turned out to be the wrong key, and I had to go back again.
The first thing I did was take a shower (using SOAP and conditioner this time - luxurious!) and change clothes. I never thought clean clothes could feel so decadent. Then the real fun began...
While in South America, I learned a great deal about myself. One big thing I learned is that I need to continue being independent and making choices motivated by one thing: ME. Unfortunately, that meant ending a nearly 3 year relationship with my boyfriend Jeff. Jeff was (is) my best friend, so I felt I owed it to him to let him know of my decision as soon as I was sure of it. And so that happened to be from a pay phone in a cafe in Puerto Natales; the day I got back from the Torres Del Paine Circuit.
Jeff wasn't shocked. Jeff was hurt. I was hurt. But the distance between us shielded my heart for my final week in Chile. When I came home, and Jeff met me at the apartment after a shower and costume change, the reality of my decision to be single confronted me. Over the next couple of days, Jeff and I grieved the death of our relationship. Our close friendship got us through it, but the pain was inescapable.
That night I drove to Denver and signed a lease for my new apartment - a 400 square foot studio in the Capitol Hill neighborhood...11th and Ogden. With no furniture, just the pack I'd been carrying for the past 6 weeks, I decided it was best to spend the night, and slept in my sleeping bag. Lonely, but proud that I had done the right thing. For me and Jeff. Jeff deserves someone who is ready for a relationship. Who can commit to him. He is better off without me.
And so a tough weekend ensued - moving my stuff into my new place, trying to figure out where Jeff and I stood as friends, now that we were no longer a couple, getting used to being alone, and gearing up for a return to work, where I'd be expected to work 10 hour days through the holidays (well, at least I get to go home 12/22 to 12/28 for xmas).
So, a week later, I am doing OK. Being alone was as frightening as I thought it was. But I'm learning to cope. I'm adapting. Things I learned I was capable of in South America. I'm finding myself. It is exciting. I'm afraid of losing momentum. I felt empowered and energetic upon landing, but I see the potential for the to all disappear unless I keep challenging myself and looking for the next bext thing; the next great hurdle.
I will continue documenting stuff (aka my life) on www.wallsaredoors.blogspot.com. If you feel so inclined to follow me ;) Here's a little incentive to check out my other blog - I will be writing about an idea I have to help the strays of Chile - an issue which really moved me upon arriving, and continues to move me now. It's called Street Dogs of Chile...I'll be writing about it soon.
Thanks for listening,
L
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Headed home
I'm getting a transfer to the aiport soon, and starting my dayish long journey back to Denver, to arrive tomorrow at 10 a.m. It's going to be a long night, and one of my ear buds is missing, so wish me luck and I can't wait to catch up with you all when I get home.
and share pictures!
Love,
Lauren
and share pictures!
Love,
Lauren
Why do trees hide the splendor of their roots?
The pachamamas had arrived in Santiago Wednesday night tired, bored and ready to explode with energy. Especially Barbara, the wild, gorgeous, austrian speaking, blonde, italian. We dropped our bags on our bunks and split off into separate directions, with plans to reconvene at 8 for dinner and sharing of the wine we purchased during the Balduzzi wine tour earlier that day.
I made a split for Bellavista, a neighborhood I had fallen in love with when I first arrived in Santiago over a month ago. I had a cappuccino chico with crema, even though I asked for a grande, and wrote in my journal next to another foreign woman, who was also journaling. I asked if I could sit next to her a few minutes earlier, and she only said OK. How friendly.
The cafe was great, the people watching better, but something was wrong. My stomach started gurgling and churning, sending little sos' to my brain, which I managed to ignore until 730, when I thought I might just die. I've gotten used to the pure water of southern chile, patagonia in particular, and my body was in shock after having ingested the dirty santiago agua.
The wine seemed to help, but I needed to lay down. Just as I was falling asleep a dark haired beauty of an australian approached my bunk to chat. She invited me to share pisco sour and coke, followed by a night out on the town. Still at university, camila was young and sprite and insisted that I get blasted on this wednesday night, my last night. I nodded my head reluctantly, but several glasses of wine and pisco and cokes later, I was wearing her frilly, flowery, PINK dress and crazy bombshell italian barbara's flipflops, in a taxi headed to the clubs of Bellavista.
A half dozen of us, a smattering of europeans, aussies and canadians, again, me being the lone american, were dancing and drinking mojitos when my stomach raised it's red flag yet again. I couldn't move. The smoke infested bar made me nauseous and I had to get some fresh air. Sitting outside, several drunk chilleans approached me for conversation, which I politely entertained while I tried not to puke. Graham, one of the canadians, brought me a water, and told me to come back inside. I hate dancing and I want to go home, I said, feeling truly odd in my girly dress, now soaked in aromas of tobacco.
At 4 am the others tired spontaneously, dancing hard one minute and barely making it to the taxi the next. I figured food would help, and as I sat in bed, ate two large raspberry cookies in less than 30 seconds, falling asleep in crumbs.
At 7 am I woke up, and was frightfully determined to take a shower, despite having run out of shampoo and soap. The smell of tobacco in my hair and dress, which I had fallen asleep in, made me cringe. My feet were caked in dirt, and the blisters between my toes from last week's trek were throbbing. Somehow I had also managed to slice my thumb open. As a slow trickle of hot water sort of rinsed the stench from my hair, I started to feel better, and decided to go for a long walk in search of a hearty breakfast.
At Cafe De Artes, I had an omelet, toast, raspberry juice, and coffee. As I was sipping my cortado, I heard a SMACK and by the time I looked right had just missed witnessing a businessman get hit by a car. The car, turning left, hit the man's shins, sending him tumbling over the hood of his car, landing bluntly, cradling his bruised shins. Within a minute the cops were there, and the situation was under control. The man wasn't seriously hurt, but witnessing this was a very good reminder that I'm not in boulder any more, that I can't cross the streets without turning my head like I do there.
After breakfast Hannah and I had plans to spend my last day in santiago together, doing girly things like shopping and visiting museums, and of course eating ice cream. We did all three, bringing my last day to a quite pleasant end, rather enjoying the english company. Her way of speech is rubbing off on me, and I reckon I've taken on a bit of her accent. Hannah lost all of her cards and money last week, having to live off the little bit her dad could wire her, and so I treated her to an english tour of the Poet Pablo Neruda's house.
And on this tour I learned that as he was dying he wrote a book of questions. In his study, one of these questions sat on his desk, asking me Why do trees hide the splendor of their roots?
A smile crept into my lips, I closed my eyes, and thought up my answer...the most beautiful things are not what we see, but what we imagine.
I made a split for Bellavista, a neighborhood I had fallen in love with when I first arrived in Santiago over a month ago. I had a cappuccino chico with crema, even though I asked for a grande, and wrote in my journal next to another foreign woman, who was also journaling. I asked if I could sit next to her a few minutes earlier, and she only said OK. How friendly.
The cafe was great, the people watching better, but something was wrong. My stomach started gurgling and churning, sending little sos' to my brain, which I managed to ignore until 730, when I thought I might just die. I've gotten used to the pure water of southern chile, patagonia in particular, and my body was in shock after having ingested the dirty santiago agua.
The wine seemed to help, but I needed to lay down. Just as I was falling asleep a dark haired beauty of an australian approached my bunk to chat. She invited me to share pisco sour and coke, followed by a night out on the town. Still at university, camila was young and sprite and insisted that I get blasted on this wednesday night, my last night. I nodded my head reluctantly, but several glasses of wine and pisco and cokes later, I was wearing her frilly, flowery, PINK dress and crazy bombshell italian barbara's flipflops, in a taxi headed to the clubs of Bellavista.
A half dozen of us, a smattering of europeans, aussies and canadians, again, me being the lone american, were dancing and drinking mojitos when my stomach raised it's red flag yet again. I couldn't move. The smoke infested bar made me nauseous and I had to get some fresh air. Sitting outside, several drunk chilleans approached me for conversation, which I politely entertained while I tried not to puke. Graham, one of the canadians, brought me a water, and told me to come back inside. I hate dancing and I want to go home, I said, feeling truly odd in my girly dress, now soaked in aromas of tobacco.
At 4 am the others tired spontaneously, dancing hard one minute and barely making it to the taxi the next. I figured food would help, and as I sat in bed, ate two large raspberry cookies in less than 30 seconds, falling asleep in crumbs.
At 7 am I woke up, and was frightfully determined to take a shower, despite having run out of shampoo and soap. The smell of tobacco in my hair and dress, which I had fallen asleep in, made me cringe. My feet were caked in dirt, and the blisters between my toes from last week's trek were throbbing. Somehow I had also managed to slice my thumb open. As a slow trickle of hot water sort of rinsed the stench from my hair, I started to feel better, and decided to go for a long walk in search of a hearty breakfast.
At Cafe De Artes, I had an omelet, toast, raspberry juice, and coffee. As I was sipping my cortado, I heard a SMACK and by the time I looked right had just missed witnessing a businessman get hit by a car. The car, turning left, hit the man's shins, sending him tumbling over the hood of his car, landing bluntly, cradling his bruised shins. Within a minute the cops were there, and the situation was under control. The man wasn't seriously hurt, but witnessing this was a very good reminder that I'm not in boulder any more, that I can't cross the streets without turning my head like I do there.
After breakfast Hannah and I had plans to spend my last day in santiago together, doing girly things like shopping and visiting museums, and of course eating ice cream. We did all three, bringing my last day to a quite pleasant end, rather enjoying the english company. Her way of speech is rubbing off on me, and I reckon I've taken on a bit of her accent. Hannah lost all of her cards and money last week, having to live off the little bit her dad could wire her, and so I treated her to an english tour of the Poet Pablo Neruda's house.
And on this tour I learned that as he was dying he wrote a book of questions. In his study, one of these questions sat on his desk, asking me Why do trees hide the splendor of their roots?
A smile crept into my lips, I closed my eyes, and thought up my answer...the most beautiful things are not what we see, but what we imagine.
Yerson's Veggie Currry Recipe
And he has outdone himself again with a delicious veg curry, which in my opinion would benefit from a sliced avocado. Here is the recipe...
Steam broccoli for 15 minutes first. Then add green onion, cilantro, red pepper, zuccini and carrot. Add mashed clove of garlic, yellow curry powder to taste and wait 25 minutes...cook on medium to high heat. Add a cup or two of cream. To see if vegetables are ready, taste a carrot. Add mushrooms last.
AMAZING. Unlike any veg dish I have ever had.
Although he didn't make this, he suggested I make Yerson's Veg Pizza as well. This shall be my first meal in my new apartment!
Put toppings on pizza crust in this order...
cheese, mushrooms, lentils or greenbeans, cheese, curry powder, pepper salt, corn, tomatoes, fresh garlic soaked beforehand in vinegar salt and oil, and bake.
YUM!
Cilantro is key. I used to hate it, now I love it. Veg food doesn't have to be bland. Thanks Yerson.
Steam broccoli for 15 minutes first. Then add green onion, cilantro, red pepper, zuccini and carrot. Add mashed clove of garlic, yellow curry powder to taste and wait 25 minutes...cook on medium to high heat. Add a cup or two of cream. To see if vegetables are ready, taste a carrot. Add mushrooms last.
AMAZING. Unlike any veg dish I have ever had.
Although he didn't make this, he suggested I make Yerson's Veg Pizza as well. This shall be my first meal in my new apartment!
Put toppings on pizza crust in this order...
cheese, mushrooms, lentils or greenbeans, cheese, curry powder, pepper salt, corn, tomatoes, fresh garlic soaked beforehand in vinegar salt and oil, and bake.
YUM!
Cilantro is key. I used to hate it, now I love it. Veg food doesn't have to be bland. Thanks Yerson.
Yerson's Veggie Pasta Sauce
Yerson, our pachamama bus guide on the two day ride back up to Santiago, is a chef. I believe he has prepared two of my favorite meals here in Chile, if not ever...at least during my time as a vegetarian.
Here is the recipe, which you must try if you like cheese...a ton of cheese.
On medium to high heat, put cilantro, vegetable oil, green onion, mashed garlic, cubed red pepper and a light cream sauce *a cup or two. Wait 10 minutes and add yellow curry to taste and black pepper. Wait one minute and add shredded cheese, preferably one with a strong flavor like gouda. Stir sauce frequently for one minute, turn off heat, and wait two minutes before eating.
During the prep of the sauce, boil water with salt and veg oil, add pasta, and when it boils again add a dash of curry.
Here is the recipe, which you must try if you like cheese...a ton of cheese.
On medium to high heat, put cilantro, vegetable oil, green onion, mashed garlic, cubed red pepper and a light cream sauce *a cup or two. Wait 10 minutes and add yellow curry to taste and black pepper. Wait one minute and add shredded cheese, preferably one with a strong flavor like gouda. Stir sauce frequently for one minute, turn off heat, and wait two minutes before eating.
During the prep of the sauce, boil water with salt and veg oil, add pasta, and when it boils again add a dash of curry.
Monday, December 7, 2009
build a deck, get a home
I arrived at the hostal yesterday morning, a day before they were ready to receive me. I had been before, and perhaps misjudged their hospitality, for when I arrived my bed wasn´t made and they were clearly more concerned with working on the garden than entertaining me, but Gonzalo said his usual ¨this is your house¨ so I dropped of my bags and hit the town.
I had a stomach bug today, perhaps due to too much coffee and sweets (my staple foods here in Chile, and even at home when I´m there!). I managed to sneak back into the hostal late, around 11 PM, get under the covers, and not wake up until 11 AM this morning, feeling better.
After picking up my clean clothes and grabbing breakfast at my favorite cafe, overlooking the lake and volcano, I went to Puerto Gres - a local pottery shop in town that sells very unique, high quality pieces. I decided to buy myself a few things - call it a house-warming present for my apartment, which doesn´t even have a kitchen big enough to hold my new mugs, sugar container, and cream holder. Coffee is my passion, and a big part of my life, so I know I will enjoy these things despite having the room to store them.
In addition to going back to school to become a vet, I think I will open a cafe in denver. Oh yeah, and independent film theatre as well...and my dog sitting business. Where was I? Ah yes, telling you about my day.
I decided to help Gonzalo with the garden, and instead we got started on building a deck - something I have never done. We started from scratch - removing wooden panels from the rear of the house, based on how much wood we had, determining how big to make the deck. We measured, we hammered, we dug, and the deck is starting to take shape! It felt good. Gonzalo offered me his yard as a gift, saying it was mine if I wanted to move to Puerto Varas and camp for the rest of my life. To most people this might seem odd or like the worst gift ever, but for me, this was a miracle. Such a generous offer, one I just might take him up on one day - at least for a summer.
Imagine sleeping under the stars on warm, balmy nights, surrounded by a beautifully landscaped garden, just a few feet from a door, behind which is a bouldering cave! Waking up, strolling the few hundred feet to a tranquil, turquoise lake at the base of a volcano, strolling a few hundred more feet to the pier where you watch the sun rise, and strolling the last few hundred feet to a cafe that serves the best cortado (coffee with cream) in Chile. Yeah, a great gift.
At 5 the pachamama crew arrived (a new guide this time - yerson), and 4 aussie girls. Tonight Yerson is making us pasta - vegetarian for me. I liked him instantly. Minutes after we met he showed me his keychain, which looked like a mapuche tribesman carved out of wood. Pull his feet, Yerson suggested, and with a raised brow I did so, discovering that upon doing this a carved penis emerged from beneath the figurines wooden attire.
OH Yerson...
I had a stomach bug today, perhaps due to too much coffee and sweets (my staple foods here in Chile, and even at home when I´m there!). I managed to sneak back into the hostal late, around 11 PM, get under the covers, and not wake up until 11 AM this morning, feeling better.
After picking up my clean clothes and grabbing breakfast at my favorite cafe, overlooking the lake and volcano, I went to Puerto Gres - a local pottery shop in town that sells very unique, high quality pieces. I decided to buy myself a few things - call it a house-warming present for my apartment, which doesn´t even have a kitchen big enough to hold my new mugs, sugar container, and cream holder. Coffee is my passion, and a big part of my life, so I know I will enjoy these things despite having the room to store them.
In addition to going back to school to become a vet, I think I will open a cafe in denver. Oh yeah, and independent film theatre as well...and my dog sitting business. Where was I? Ah yes, telling you about my day.
I decided to help Gonzalo with the garden, and instead we got started on building a deck - something I have never done. We started from scratch - removing wooden panels from the rear of the house, based on how much wood we had, determining how big to make the deck. We measured, we hammered, we dug, and the deck is starting to take shape! It felt good. Gonzalo offered me his yard as a gift, saying it was mine if I wanted to move to Puerto Varas and camp for the rest of my life. To most people this might seem odd or like the worst gift ever, but for me, this was a miracle. Such a generous offer, one I just might take him up on one day - at least for a summer.
Imagine sleeping under the stars on warm, balmy nights, surrounded by a beautifully landscaped garden, just a few feet from a door, behind which is a bouldering cave! Waking up, strolling the few hundred feet to a tranquil, turquoise lake at the base of a volcano, strolling a few hundred more feet to the pier where you watch the sun rise, and strolling the last few hundred feet to a cafe that serves the best cortado (coffee with cream) in Chile. Yeah, a great gift.
At 5 the pachamama crew arrived (a new guide this time - yerson), and 4 aussie girls. Tonight Yerson is making us pasta - vegetarian for me. I liked him instantly. Minutes after we met he showed me his keychain, which looked like a mapuche tribesman carved out of wood. Pull his feet, Yerson suggested, and with a raised brow I did so, discovering that upon doing this a carved penis emerged from beneath the figurines wooden attire.
OH Yerson...
Traveling with friends
Traveling has ceased to be a novelty, and has become a way of life. I am now very used to the flow of traveling alone - the joys of deciding what to do and where to go sans the influence of another.
Travel Changes Us. Travel has taught me that I can adapt very well to diverse situations - that I have what it takes to thrive in the face of challenge, at least in Chile.
Most importantly, I have discovered I really like having myself as company. I never feel alone - adventure is my constant companion. New experiences - sights, smells, tastes - are my friends.
Travel Changes Us. Travel has taught me that I can adapt very well to diverse situations - that I have what it takes to thrive in the face of challenge, at least in Chile.
Most importantly, I have discovered I really like having myself as company. I never feel alone - adventure is my constant companion. New experiences - sights, smells, tastes - are my friends.
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