travel tales

Mexico was a breath of fresh air, literally and figuratively.  While I longed to stay longer and explore more of the country, the vacation was relaxing and rejuvenating.  I spent some quality time with my best friend, drinking plenty of margaritas and mojitos alongside the pool, soaking up the sun.  I spent hours reading, writing, and pondering whether or not it was time for me to move back to Latin America or elsewhere.  No rash decisions have been made, but I appreciated the time out of my comfort zone to reevaluate several things in my life... as I usually do when abroad.

We spent one day on an excursion that including zip-lining (SO much fun) through the jungle, mountain biking, snorkeling and climbing/swimming through crazy caves.  Our fellow travelers, as well as our tour guide kept us thoroughly entertained.  Of course, I managed to fall while in the caves and bang up my leg on the rocks, as horror thoughts of knee injuries interfering with my marathon training flashed through my mind.  It had swelled up pretty badly by late afternoon when we got to the hotel.  One of the bartenders creatively fashioned an ice-pack out of seran wrap (that worked surprisingly well) for me, but I spent most of that evening chilling on our balcony rather than salsa dancing.

One of the highlights of the trip was befriending much of the hotel staff.  As is common with many all-inclusive resorts such as the one where we were staying, the majority of the guests were gringos who spoke not a word of Spanish and who had no real interest in experiencing anything that might resemble the true Mexican culture because it might shake up their perceptions a little too much.  It was amusing to see the reactions of the resort staff and our tour guides when they realized I spoke Spanish - often when I would overhear a conversation that they had not intended for us to hear.  

(ellos) Mira sus oyos bellos.  Ellas son mis novias.

(yo, sonriendo) Lo siento.  Creo que no.

(one employee to another) oh, look at their beautiful eyes.  They are my girlfriends.

(me, smiling) Sorry.  I don't think so.

They were usually caught completely off-guard and would laugh in astonishment, immediately striking up a conversation, asking where I had learned Spanish, what I had done in Colombia, if I was married/had a boyfriend (some things never change when it comes to Latino men, regardless of where they are from), and what I thought of Mexico.  I chatted with the driver who took us to and from the airport about how Hurricane Wilma had impacted Cancun and the small town along the Guatemalan border that he was from.  The guide on our excursion asked about different travel adventures that I had gone on in Colombia, most notably in the Amazon.  We shared some interesting comparisons on two countries that have had such a different experience with tourism.  

The resort had live music at night, which alternated between mariachi and other very traditional  Mexican music and my personal favorite...salsa.  The fact that I knew how to dance may have been even more surprising than the fact that I could speak Spanish.  Songs that I knew by heart, many of them Colombian, which made me feel so at home, in this country that I had never before visited, as I spun around the dance floor and took deep breaths of salty, Caribbean air.

Come Monday, it'll be alright...

Thoughts of sun and sand and tropical cocktails have been getting me through the week.  Possibly even more exciting than the idea of chilling on the beach with my best friend is the idea that I will be back in Latin America next week.  I'm yearning to speak Spanish, explore the Mayan ruins of the Yucatan Peninsula that border Belize, and feel myself surrounded by the passion of Latino culture, music, food, and hospitality.  

My passport has once again been gathering dust for too long and I have not added a new stamp since I journeyed to Turkey, a year and a half ago. There are several tentative travel adventures which lay ahead of me this year... my nomad instincts are kicking in again, and I couldn't be more excited to jump on that plane next week and head to Mexico.

there's a hole in the world tonight...

It's hard to articulate the emotions of saying good-bye.  A string of particularly tough ones are surrounding me, but haven't truly sunk in yet.    

When individuals come into your life and have a profound impact on you, it's hard to accept that things won't always stay the same, that your paths will diverge.  Even if your friendship stays strong, the relationship inevitably changes with geography.  They are no longer a subway ride away when you want to meet for coffee, no longer the ones with whom you will share crazy stories of nights out.  Life isn't static.  You may find yourself slip comfortably into a routine for awhile only to have it inevitably shaken up.  It's hard as hell to adjust to not seeing people who are intertwined in the fabric of your life on a regular basis

And so, what do you do when your friends move away?  You say "see you soon", rather than "good-bye".  You accept that life will continue to change, relationships continue to evolve, nothing stays the same and that is the beauty of life.  Good-byes help you cherish the time you spend together and cement the memories in your mind forever.

A Race Like No Other...

As I crossed the finish line of the NYRR 8000m race this morning, I moved one step closer to THE race that I've had my eye on since I found myself integrated into the New York running scene last summer... the NY Marathon.  Maybe one day I will aspire to run Boston, the pinnacle of distance running, but at this point, my heart is set on running one of the greatest marathons there is - in my city.  

A course that traverses 5 boroughs and 5 bridges, finishing in Central Park, will be the culmination of the journey that it takes to qualify.  Nine races in 2009 will guarantee my entry for NYM 2010.  I have two behind me, a 5k in Washington Heights and today's 8k in the Park.  And so, interspersed with the destination marathons that I have ahead of me this year, in Madison, Lake Placid, and San Fran, my New York races will be what really keep pushing me toward the goal that I have ahead of me.

Do you have what it takes?

Not just a Wisconsin thing...

I just discovered this week that they use the world "bubbler" in Rhode Island.  I got kinda excited.

hoy es un dia de aquellos en que miro hacia el cielo...

I rarely make impulse purchases. But I haven't left the country in nearly a year, and it has been over a year and a half since I have stepped foot in a new country.  Spring is around the corner, but I'm restless for the warm, tropical Caribbean breezes that surrounded me when I lived in Barranquilla.  

I think I just bought a ticket to Mexico.  And I leave in less than 2 weeks :)

a tale of two subway passengers...

Scene: NY subway.  1 local train, heading uptown on a Sunday morning.  Not overly crowded, the usual assortment of characters that you see in the metro on a daily basis.  

Not far from me is an older woman, whom most would presume to be homeless, or nearly.  Her mismatched, ragged clothing was pieced together, a shopping cart packed with large black garbage bags was leaned against her leg, and she was leaned over, taking up two seats, appearing to have been passed out there for quite some time.

Another presumably homeless, or less-fortunate at the very least, musician boarded the train at one stop, sang a couple mariachi style songs and proceeded to make the rounds of the car, begging for spare change from the other passengers, most of whom tried to appear indifferent, as one often does in these situations.

About the same time, the older woman woke and began to shout some kind of nonsense, decidedly directly at the musician, seemingly in Spanish, though I could only make out a few words.  It didn't exactly sound pleasant.  As he approached our end of the train car, however, she reached under one of the many tattered layers of makeshift clothing, pulled out a single dollar bill, and placed it into the cup that he was holding out.  He nodded his thanks, departed at the next stop, and she proceeded to fall back asleep on the subway seat.

People surprise you.

If I can't hear the music and the audience is gone, I'll dance here on my own..

Sometimes you get lucky and all the elements click when you go out for a run.  You push your pace 15 seconds faster than usual.  Your stride is steady and strong.  Everything just feels "right", you can't explain why.  These are the days that remind you why you love to run.  These are the days that you live for, the days that make you forget about your last tough run, when something felt off.  You get in the zone and feel that you could run forever.  Your mind clears, your heartbeat syncs with your feet pounding on the pavement.  You cherish the moment of solitude, the clarity.

westside of Manhattan at sunset