Don't be just a tourist

"Please be careful." My dad said before we hung up on Skype. It was in reference to my up coming Cuba trip. "Of course!" I replied, "What could I get up to? I'll be staying at a resort." 

He just gave me a knowing look and repeated, "Be careful."

About 20 minutes later, in between texting with Tara about bikini's, cameras, sunscreen, departure times, if I should bring the crib board, I threw in "Wanna be a legal mule for medical supplies?"

As it happened, a mere 5 minutes after talking to my dad I found something on the internet called Not Just Tourists. A non-profit organization that has three ways to support other countries around the world when you're traveling. Their website seemed legit and it linked me to a Not Just Tourist-Toronto branch, and within a few moments I was calling to see if I could volunteer on such short notice, my flight left in just a few days. They assured me they would try to get a suitcase together that I could pick up when I stopped in Toronto the day before my Cuba departure.

Great!

Or so I thought... until I told my partner. In a very happy-go-lucky tone I said something like, "I decided to volunteer to take medical supplies to Cuba. Yeah, I'm just going to pick up a suitcase when I land in Toronto and then drop it off somewhere in Cuba..." 
"You're what?"
"The website has pictures."

To which Dan was the voice of reason and brought up some really good points that hadn't even crossed my mind. The main ones were:

1. Cuba doesn't mess around, especially when it comes to drugs (further research after this talk found that association with drugs in Cuba is a crime punishable by death) Who is packing this suitcase?

2. I had no idea where I was going to pick up the mystery case (something I really didn't see as a problem, I knew it would be downtown and I knew I'd know before I landed in Toronto)

3. I had no idea where I was going to drop off the suitcase. To which my retort was "... the city I'm dropping it off in is called Moron." (You can't search for streets in Google maps of Cuba and there is no street view.)

4. I didn't know anyone personally who had done this before. 

I'll address #4 first, this made me see a whole other way of thinking that gave me even more conviction to follow through. Other people probably thought this way, my friends probably felt this way, and now having done it I want to encourage everyone I know to give it a try.

The address of the pick up was figured out quickly and I was explicitly told to unpack and repack the suitcase so I'd know all the contents. When I got to Tara's that evening we looked at the goods. Everything checked out, there were bandages, vitamins, syringes, pretty much a closet full of supplies.
Not knowing exactly where I would be going to drop the supplies off didn't phase me. I had four addresses of drop off clinics in a town nearby the resort Tara and I would be staying at. 

Fast forward to the Cuban customs. I was nervous, all the warnings people had given me rang in my mind, I had my paperwork handy just in case. But no one asked, no one cared, I had zero problems and easily grabbed my bag and left the airport. 

Fast forward to Moron trip, we grabbed a cab and headed to the hospital.

Hospital in Moron, Cuba

Walking with receptionist

Waiting with cockroaches in the hall

my eyes are closed but the logo is there

Now... as much as I'd like to I'm not going to sugarcoat this. We got there and looking at the outside of the hospital I thought I was making a huge mistake. The place looked great from the outside and I thought I was about to offend someone with my "gift" (I was told explicitly NOT to call it a donation and practiced saying 'Regalo' in my head over and over.) So we got inside and immediately knew we were doing the right thing. This looked more like a converted middle school than a hospital. We were taken down many corridors and eventually were asked to wait in a hall for the director. It was then I realized I wish I hadn't spoken Spanish. Wishing that I had just played dumb and handed over the suitcase and walked away. After waiting for a while, getting hot and bothered, and squeamish for watching so many people pass by a giant cockroach flailing its legs while laying on it's back as if it were a normal thing, we were finally let into the room. The director explained (in Spanish) that he was not allowed to take the gift. It had to be given to a different organization who would distribute it fairly.
My spoiled Canadian self expected him to boot up his computer, connect to the internet and give me the address, directions, and phone number for this other location. But when internet is $6/hour that was not happening. He called his reception, who then called back with a phone number. Then he called that number and surprise... no one answered. No one had another number, or address, or directions.
I was getting annoyed by this point, I wanted to do a good thing and there seemed to be some hoops to jump through. There was a lot of back and forth until I finally got into my thick skull that this man could lose his job for accepting these supplies, which moments ago the receptionist seemed so excited about. So we up and left. With the bag. There were three other clinics on my list that I had gotten from the organization.

I'm going to jump ahead through the minutia, we found the other clinic, we dropped off the supplies, and were not too worse for wear.Apparently there was a doctor coming in later that day for a clinic that only happened at certain times, the lady in pink was the receptionist. If it wasn't for the logo on the door and some randomly placed chairs slightly representing a waiting room, I would have thought it was someone's house.

It's something I would do again but give myself more time.

What a doozy

Wow, today, September 24th marks the two year anniversary of jumping on that first one way plane ticket. I'm closing that chapter, the two year long journey, and I feel like I'm losing a part of myself. I accomplished things I desperately wanted, I found things I didn't know I needed, and made connections that will last a lifetime. To anyone who's considering dropping everything to chase a dream, I support that decision and wish you the time of your life. 

Sunset in Panama, Bocas del Toro

For a sense completion to this period I bought a round trip ticket for a visit to Toronto. I may take other short trips but I will stay living in Thunder Bay for a time, to live a quiet life and write. Write about my travels, some short stories, and other such things. I still have some blog posts to catch up on, like moving to Thunder Bay, the epic road trip with Jenn, and what it's like to move to Northern Ontario.

stand up paddle boarding with Angus

I can't help but feel a little startled by this pause. Just five months ago I was living in Panama with 'snorkeling' and 'jungle walk' on my to-do list. Now it's 'laundry' and 'clean the kitchen'. Three months ago I was living in a tent with my nightly check for ticks and night by a fire. Now it's checking that the door is locked and blowing out a few candles. A month ago I was on a road trip and didn't know where I was going to sleep or what State I was going to be in next. Now it's a trusty bed and a scheduled work week.

Sunset in Panama

It's true about the human condition, we can become accustomed to anything. I normalized the traveling lifestyle such that getting back to the norm is foreign. It's nice though, and Albert Einstein said "a quiet life stimulates the creative mind." which is just the environment I was seeking to focus on my writing.

Paris, photo credit Jenn

So far it's been a battle to write and set up a new apartment. My mind already wandering to living in Italy, backpacking in Thailand, and exploring New York. Spain calls, France tugs at my heart, Panamanian sunsets sit behind my eyelids...

So my friends, this two year stint of only buying one way tickets is officially at a close. It's a time to replenish funds, relive through writing, enjoy having my own apartment again and who's kidding who - planning the next adventure.

The Wave by Susan Casey

I never thought a book would have me on the edge of my seat. This book was recommend to me when I was in Panama, living by the water. I was very unsuccessfully trying the art of surfing. My biggest problem was my fear of being churned out by waves. When I was about nine years old in Spain with my dad, I was walking along the shoreline collecting rocks and shells with my back to the sea. My dad who was waiting by the umbrella starts calling to me and throwing his arms around. I just stood there staring at his silliness when all of a sudden a huge wave was upon me, tumbling me, throwing rocks at my stomach and then thankfully spitting me out.  Every time I got overtaken by a wave when surfing I was pumped with adrenaline to get out of it and then drained of all energy and motivation to get back at it.

"This book describes the mechanics of waves", maybe if I understood waves better I would be less terrified. I had already judged the book though, I wrongly anticipated it was filled with technical aspects that would be a dry read with science terms I knew nothing about. I reluctantly pulled it off the shelf and it immediately pulled me in. I was kicking myself for not reading this book as soon as it was recommended to me. Susan Casey isn't writing from the safety of a desk, she gets in the thick of it, learning about waves from the true masters; surfers searching for a hundred foot wave, scientists caught in epic storms, predictors of world disasters. She takes you to the moment and on the white knuckle rides. Laird Hamilton, a pro surfer, is her main connection to the world of waves. The information she gives is truly awesome.

There are pictures, incredible accounts of natures power, and an excitement I haven't encountered in other reads. This book would make a great gift for anyone who likes to get caught up in action and adventure. This book, hands down, goes on my top reads list!

I caught a pike, but let it go...

The hiatus is over and so is the fishing trip. I caught a pike, but let it go... There's a lot more fish in the sea from what I hear.

So before I get into all the craziness of what I've been up to these last three months I'll divulge why I stopped in the first place. Things were as close as paradise gets when I was living in Panama and Bocas will always have a special place in my heart. Unfortunately though it was where the straw broke the camel's back on the relationship with my mom (who stayed there). I didn't know what was too much information, and really didn't know how to explain, and was super angry and didn't want her to know anything about my life so I just froze and stopped writing on the blog and poured more into my books. The short story is I've tried everything I can think of and I have no more left in me to make the relationship functional and not hurtful.

I miss blogging though and the feedback to start up again has been great! It's such a fun way to explain what I'm up to, so I'm going to play catch up for the next few days. Wow, that was way easier than I thought, maybe a bit clandestine but at least I'm back at it, right?

Posts to come:
- books books books
- Tree planting
- moving to Thunder Bay (yeah, that's not a typo)
- road trip in the states (starting in Aug)

Why I don't have a twitter

- When you're making your bed in the morning and have a tally of bugs you've killed in your sleep #junglegirlproblems

- Beatles are sticky, and fun to throw at your friends #junglegames

- That moment you're mid-pee and realize there's a gross bug staring at you an arms reach away #junglegirlproblems

- A hummingbird made a nosedive for my head #junglegirlproblems

- I just caught a gecko #junglegames

- That moment when the small town gossip about my life is more exciting than my life #smalltownproblems

-  I got botox in my sleep, from a bug...

- It's going to rain

- It's raining

- It rained

- It's raining again

- It's a perfect sunny beach day!!

- It hasn't rained for a week, we need rain #rainforestproblems

- I just got grasshoppered!! (Cenia just put a big grasshopper up my shirt to get me topless) #junglegames
 

Sometimes even hummingbirds get stuck

So tonight I was a little angry-upset. Yup, even on a beautiful island you're allowed to be upset. Well, I went upstairs to my room and flopped on the bed thinking of the online chats that got me into this funk, when buzzing and bumping around me was a beautiful little hummingbird. I have the most open room on the property; I have one full wall, two half walls and one "wall" is actually just a waist-high wood railing. A hummingbird made it's way in and somehow can't figure out how to get out, or doesn't want to leave. I got out of bed and watched it fly around, perching itself on the wood rafters and the close line, then zooming around again. I turned off the lights and still it hasn't left.
I was wondering as I watched this hummingbird fly high with the roof around it, but just 1 foot below has open space waiting for it to fly through, if that could be a metaphor for problems in life.
Could it mean:

a) when we're in a problem that's all we see, not the open space/solutions that surround us

b) sometimes we can bash out heads against the wall, but all we really need to be free is to get outside

c) sometimes we aim our resolutions too high

d) sometimes a there is no higher place to go, there is no high road option, for a problem

e) absolutely nothing, it's just a pretty hummingbird to distract me so that I forget what I was ever in a funk about.
                   ... thanks lil hummingbird

Air Panama, a Pig, and lovely Lemons

Well, it seems I'm overdue for a post. As Jenn would say, I have a huge case of Normalization. I've had a request to write more about my day to day events; what do I do out here?  No, I do not just sit in a hammock all day, but that is how I like to start my day. There's nothing for me quite like making time to read in the morning, with a coffee or tea, listening to lapping water. With my new Kobo Mini I'm able to pick Anna Karenina back up and wow, that Tolstoy knows how to tell a story.

Yesterday was very busy. My day started with buying a newly slaughtered 60lbs pig before 8am. A lovely Panamanian had raised her pig and was ready to sell it to Sue's kitchen. It doesn't get more free range and local than walking distance on a an island trail. I asked Sue if she needed help cutting it up.
"Oh no, it's as easy now as skinning a chicken."
"Actually Sue, I don't know anything about skinning chickens. I was vegan for a few years, and most of the time living on my own, I'm vegetarian."
My grandmother's sister used to own a butcher shop/Polish deli, and my general curiosity of 'how -to', brought me into the kitchen. Cruz commented that it looked like a cooking show, as Sue explained her process, while beautifully separating the main pieces of meat, and instructing Sela on the seasoning.

After that I tried to dye a few things turquoise. Then started the process of carefully peeling without pith, and juicing, 20 lemons, (a rare fruit all the way from David, 4hrs away). The peels went into vodka to make lemonchellos. The fresh juice went to fresh lemonade and cocktails. I checked on cabins for new guests, and filled some gaps that were noticed. I helped at the bar with dinner service as Lloyd was still in Bocas awaiting the new arrivals. Sue kept here ears to the sky, hoping to hear a plane that was supposed to be arriving around 5pm, but didn't pass until 7:30pm.

Air Panama, the airline responsible for delaying tourists coming to Bocas since 2006, pushed the limits on yesterdays delays. Telling passengers that 'the plane broke down' (which probably means the staff was on a break at the bar), turned an hour plane trip into a two and a half hour delay, is not a fun stop for any traveler, especially when sun and beach and good food are calling. Since the Bocas 'airport' got lights, Air Panama has used that as an excuse to make planes even farther off their mark. You'd think an airline that has the same two daily flight times everyday, for years, would have figured out how to be on time, not the case. Their excuses get more colorful, and people living here have gotten used to just waiting around Bocas town, and only walking to the airport once they hear the plane pass overhead.

Normally I'm not fussed when planes are delayed, things do happen every now and again, but arriving late to the island of Bocas, means that tourists have to then get to their destinations in the dark. For Casa Cayuco that means driving the boat in the dark. Lloyd is a pro at it, but that doesn't mean it's fun. The boat has to slow down so no one in a cayuco (hollowed out tree canoes) who is night fishing, with no lights, don't get hit or hurt, adding more travel time to the already 45minute ride. Not to mention newcomers don't get to see the collection of mangroves they pass through. Thankfully last night was a beautifully starry night with some good bio-luminescence. It's really unfortunate though that Air Panama can't get their act together, no matter how many complaints are filed, see Air Panama is killing me and their customer satisfaction reviews, a whopping 1.3 out of 5.

So those are most of the highlights of yesterday, gotta get back to it.

The Dirt Under My Nails

Being back home in Toronto, sitting with my dad at the dinner table, he commented on the dirt under my fingernails. I let out a big laugh. I had just been admiring how clean my nails looked, probably the cleanest in months. A few days before I had been talking with Sue about how hard it it to keep nails nice in the jungle.

Being in the city for 6 weeks, my nails were nicely kept. I didn't even really need to make an effort, as there was nothing around to make them dirty. Yesterday afternoon, I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair unkempt, despite having put it in a tidy braid a few hours before. My white shirt was stained, despite having worn it without harm for a few summers in the city, and only having it on for a few hours in the jungle. My legs were smeared with mud even though I washed them off before coming upstairs, and my nails... My nails were black with dirt, and I was happy.

When the clouds parted for a little while, Sue had taken me through the back trail, to pick some water apples for the evenings dessert (imagine a radish, shaped like a pear, that tastes like a water logged granny smith apple). It had been raining a lot the day before, and in spurts yesterday, so a part of the trail was ankle deep, swampy mud. When we got to the tree, Sue found the large stick that passers by use for poking the fruit off the high branches, that can be found nearby most fruit trees. I felt like a wide receiver on a football team, waiting for the ball to drop. I was standing at the ready as apples were falling from ten foot high branches. I had to lunge on a few occasions, trying to catch the apple that came loose, before it could drop into the mud and fallen fermented fruit below. Once we bagged enough for the nights desert, we left the giant tree, and headed back to Casa Cayuco.

The dessert was absolutely delicious, Sue turned the water apples into an apple crisp with a warm caramel sauce. There was a special bowl with a sparkler for a special birthday guest. Some of the guests stayed around the table after dinner for the birthday, and we all played a hilarious game of Cards Against Humanity (we've only played the game once before with guests). It was a great way to be welcomed back to Casa Cayuco, and I can't wait to see what happens next!

Trading city lights for starry nights

Yesterday I was once again on a plane, taking me away to Panama. I'm excited about this unexpected trip. I had it in my head that I was going to be back in Toronto for a long while, and it ended up just a trip long enough to spend quality time with my family and a few close friends.

It wasn't quite enough time to get back in touch with everyone that I had intended to see. It was very nice to not feel too rushed and cram everyone it all at once though. I do feel really bad though, about not getting to connect with more people.

The thing I missed most, was doing nothing with people. Having coffee and going on errands with my step-mom, having dinner and hanging out with my dad, babysitting and playing with my aunt and uncle's kids, movies and drives with my grandfather, etc. All the day to day things that you're just happy to do with the people you love. Obviously all the moments are made sweeter because there's a close expiration date.

The weather wasn't unbearable, probably also due to the leave date. I still love snow, and will fall in fresh snow anytime, to make snow-angels, when no ones around. After seeing the snow, slush, and ice, I was ready for a place I could enjoy outdoors, and walk around barefoot. I'm not very connected to outdoor winter sports in Toronto, by that I mean it's hard to just walk out your front door and stay outside. You have to drive far to get to a good ski hill, shuttle downtown to go skating, venture up north to go cross-country skiing or snow-shoeing.

Whenever I was outside, Toronto felt bare. It's become too expensive, and NetFlicks all to alluring. Never before have I seen 12 cabs huddled together at a red light, all empty, on a Friday night. During regular office hours there seems to be a big flow of people, pedestrian traffic handled in a organized fashion by the TTC, so people are in the city, but everyone is just hibernating. Or maybe everyone's just watching hockey because the leafs are actually playing well and winning games!!

So, I will miss hockey, the snow, Canadian's, family and friends, but the islands of the archipelago of Bocas del Toro, give me a certain happiness that I can't pin on one thing, just the whole rainforest experience.

Canadians Travel

        If you have a trip planned outside Canada it's good to give a look at http://travel.gc.ca/. There are many helpful tips for your next trip. Easily getting legal details of where you need a visa and where you don't, depending on the duration of your stay. As well as what cities to avoid in certain countries, based on crime rates. There is also an easy registration form, that takes maybe two minutes, to let Canada know that you're leaving the country. I also had fun trying to stump the Quick searchable guide of what you can bring on an aircraft.

Adventure Divas by Holly Morris

"Don't judge a book by it's cover" was a bit hard, when it came to seeing this in a book bin at BMV. I hugged it to my chest and could hardly wait to dive in. 'Adventure Divas' with dusty trail shoes, exactly what I needed after this long adventure I've just taken. It affirmed for me that I really need to write a book about my year of travel from Sept 2011 to Sept 2012.

This book is about writer, producer, Holly Morris and her long adventure of filming 'Adventure Divas' the tv series, with her plastic sidekick, Sky Prancer. In the first chapter I thought I was going to have to drink four espressos to keep up with her, but it gets a better flow as it goes on and punches you with excitement.

I have a new list of destinations and inspirations from this book. There are now so many quotes highlighted and pages dogeared, it will be a hard book to leave behind when I start my next adventure. Here is just one quote that explains the type of diva Holly gets to interview:

Gloria Rolando - "For me, a diva is not something that lives in the sky. It is a woman who lives on the earth. It is a woman who suffers, is a woman who dreams, is a woman who wants to struggle. If you ask me if I am a diva, I don't know; but I am a warrior. And the main quality of the diva-warrior is not to be scared of life. Not to be scared of the difficulties. Whether you have support or not, whether you have money or not, you need to have a spirit."

Happy Birthday Jenn!

It's Jenn's birthday!! Which led me to create the ridiculous video below. I had some up close sloth footage, that I had been saving to share on her birthday. Then I finally read her facebook events page and realized she had a great request for her birthday this year. Option One was to go to her party and dance to fantasticly funky beats all night long. Her brilliance was with her Option Two, allowing her friends from all over the world participate in the dance party! The facebook event read: 

If, for some unfortunate reason, you cannot join me in person, send me a video or photo of your best dance move. You have a week to practice. Don't let me down. Bonus points for groups. Oh, and tell me what song you were jamming to. It will be the playlist of the (quarter of a) century.

So naturally, I thought a sloth paired with some monkeys and a turkey, all grooving to a k-os song was the way to go...

I love the jungle but does the Jungle love me? Part 2

Continued from I love the jungle but does the Jungle love me

I was out in Bocas and its archipelago for a few months, and I feel pretty adapted to jungle ways. I know how to read most solar monitors. I can listen and guess the amount of inches of rainfall. I've bailed the boat in the middle of the night, and brought it back when the tide broke an anchor chain. I've moved a damn heavy propane tank. I walked around barefoot pretty much anywhere except on town pavement.

Jungle-3 Pride-1

I've adjusted to the jungle sounds and let all the crazy chirps and howls fade into the background. Being awake at 6, I listen to the birds and the lapping sound of water while I watch the sun come into the room. I only wake up now if it's too silent, or there's a cool breeze.

Jungle-3 Sleeping in-2

As my bug bites started to fade, new ones weren't as much of a worry. I've learned the simple sensory factor, if you feel something moving down it's probably a hair or water droplet and if it's a bug it will be off you soon. If it's crawling up, then it's in need of a slap, as it could be an ant or other biting bug. I changed to long pants and long shirts at sunset and sit under a fan, or use bug spray starting at 4:30. I don't get as strong a reaction to the bites anymore either.

When I was in the city of David for a night, I realized I'd rather have the sound of waves through open air cabins with the occasional cockroach and spider, than a sealed house with none of the above. I love living with half walls and windows unencumbered with screens or glass, living with the bugs and birds in an odd harmony.

Jungle-3 Bug harmony zone-3

Sitting at the dock of the bay

That's the moon on a morning in Dolphin Bay

 As I was sitting on the dock, looking up at the stars without the interference of light pollution, I remembered a few days ago the amazing brightness of the moon. It reminded me of what I had read about pagan religions, and how many rites and rituals are based around the full moon. It just makes sense, when the moon is that bright, you don't need artificial light to lead your way, and it's a great time for a group of people to get together without help from the sun to see what you're doing.

I let my mind wander more as the wave tips pushed along the bio-luminescence. It may seem that I really do fly by the seat of my pants... Maybe it looks like I willy-nilly pick up and go someplace new with the blind faith that 'it will all work out', 'que sera, sera', and all that. I actually go into almost everything with a plan a,b,c,d,e,f,g, almost to m.

 

I always, no matter what, have a plan called 'if all else fails, I can always...'. This plan is usually something I've done before and know I can do again. The 'worst case scenario' of: I could borrow money if I'm in a pinch, I could go back to job xyz, I could live at xyz's place.

My diving board for most of my radical choices has been my firm knowledge in my 'if all else fails, I can go back to xyz, no matter what' plan. You can always go back to something, you will survive. 
I'm sure you've seen studies on happiness and the happiness of one nation compared to others. I've based my personal life happiness on my 'worst case scenario' plan. I don't look at how good things are, I look at the 'if all else fails' spot. Over the years it seems to get better and better. The moment I change it, or notice it change, I feel a huge wash of gratitude because, hey, my worst case scenario is better than rock bottom, it is better than it was.

Sitting out on the dock, with the stars and sea, I realized I could change my 'xyz', I could always come back to right here, and do it all over again. Never has my xyz also been a possible plan b and c. So for me, that means my diving board to spring off of just got a whole lot better. If I had never taken risks my xyz would have always stayed the same and I would have continued to have lived fearfully close to it.
Not all adventures work out the way we hope, but that doesn't mean it wasn't an adventure or a leap off the diving board. I recently read a facebook status of Nancy, the current housesitter of 'The Treehouse', who I've been corresponding with for months, that read:

"I think the challenges of rainforest living have helped me discover that I'm not the adventurer I thought. :-( It's just too hard. Sadly, we're going to go home earlier than planned. "

I was thanked for my positivity when I responded with:

"It's a tough house, so it's not just the jungle. Maybe there's another place that will crop up for you without as much chaos. You made the leap to go, that's where the adventure is!"

In a true adventure, you never really know how or where it's going to end. And, more oft than not comes with some great stories, because the finite details are unforeseeable. For most though, the biggest, hardest part of an adventure is making that first jump! Taking risks, and jumping off your diving board isn't nearly as scary, when you know what level the water is at, when you know the depths you're jumping to. If you know 'the bottom' will be right back where you've been before.

 

You might physically and habitually be right back where you were before, but the catch with that, is any good adventure will leave you a little changed, a little more self aware. If you're worried about making your next jump, check out these amazing cliff diving photos.

Cheat sheet of inspiration

We ALL get down, we ALL get mopy, EVEN ME: Ms. Positive-Spin-for-everything. I've been known to wallow watching An Affair to Remember (the 1957 makes me cry every time), Grey's Anatomy and Gilmore Girls.

I've also been known for 'Dance it Out' moments and '30 second dance party' inspired by Grey's Anatomy (usually without the tequila), combined with the phrase 'dance like no ones watching'. Pick a dance song and just give 'er! If anyone's around they have to join in and it usually ends in a pile of laughter, the ultimate best medicine. If nothing else you get some endorphins. You're responsible for your own comfort no matter where you are or who you're with.

I would like to share with you my master list of links HERE

Sometimes I just miss everywhere I've been... ♥

No matter how much I may enjoy where I am, I'll get a wave of missing where I've been. As a traveler I've been asked over and over, "Where's your favorite spot?". That's the hardest question to answer. Like when someone asks, 'What's your favorite movie, book, song?" How do you pick a favorite song when there are so many great ones? I don't think I'm the only one afflicted by this.

When I want constructed beauty with secret spots, I miss Paris. When I want loud laughter, sunshine and instant friends, I miss Barcelona. When I want to walk for miles from sun up to sun down, I miss the Camino. When I want to refuel on love, good food, and easy living, I miss the South of Spain. When I want to sit on the floor drinking wine, chatter over coffee, and laugh till I pee my pants, I miss Toronto.

I have one month till I return to Toronto. Ask me a month ago and I had very solid reasons for returning. I was very firm in why I was going back. I knew myself so well though that I bought a ticket then... because if I didn't, I'd get caught up in the moment, and who knows how many months it would be before I felt the pull to go back. I have important people to see, jobs to attend to, a life to 'get in order'. Right? Well, listening to the waves of the ocean, that all seems impossible. I've made promises that I need to keep, but otherwise I feel like everything else can wait. Maybe I have Bocas fever and a case of Hotel California Syndrome but I think it's safe to say, the 'live by the seat of your pants' is the lifestyle for me. I don't think I'll be grounded in one place for too long, even a place I've missed so much. I give myself three months before these itchy feet are ready to roam again. I cringe and smile to start the ticking clock, 30 days till I touch home snow.

  

WEBSITE COUNTDOWN WIDGET

Photo credit starting from top, Paris by Jenn, Barcelona by Nat, Camino by Alex, South of Spain by Alex, Outside Toronto with Jus by Kate.

Waiting for the Witch

I had a wonderful bunch of visitors the past two weeks who all left on Thursday. Once again I'm left to my own devices, which had me remembering a funny story...

Upon coming to this great big 'house' in Panama I was asked only a few questions by the local Ngobe people. The most reoccurring from the women was bluntly put,
"Do you have a husband?"
"Nope"
"Do you live with your mom?"
"Nope"
They pressed on, "You don't live with your mom or a husband?"
"Nope"
"Oh, Samantha..." One woman said 'tsk'-ing and shaking her head.
She looked at me quite seriously and said, "I would be scared living in a great big house all by myself."
It was the day before I was to be all alone, so I was a little taken aback. With the neighbors very close and workers coming every day, this is the most people I've been around consistently in three months. I worried for a moment that maybe there was a risk factor I had overlooked...
"Well I have Angus and Bella" I said, referring to the dogs, who are well feared. "Why would you be scared? Just because it's so big?"
"Yes. You know what happens to people who live in a big house all by themselves..."
I shook my head 'no', as I thought about gluttony, and images of people living in L.A. in big mansions. She broke my daydream with, "You have to be very careful, because of the witch"
I did my best not to smile, as I imagined the witch from Beauty and the Beast knocking on mansion's all over the world. I was also careful not to mention that my friends and family often affectionately refer to me as a witch. If there was a witch in the village I certainly would love to meet her, but perhaps I didn't understand.
"Is she a spirit, a ghost, a real person?"
"Oh, she's a real person."
"Can I meet her? Can you tell me where she lives?"
"No no no. Oh, Samantha" More 'tsk'-ing and head shaking.
"...Have you seen her?"
"No! If you see her, she will kill you"
"Oh..." I said, thinking on my vampire, werewolf and zombie apocalypse safety measures.
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Yes, you need a #&)x!."
I was positive I was miss-translating. The clarification of what she was saying went back and forth for a long while, until I went into the kitchen and got a fork.  It couldn't possibly be as simple as a dinner fork, but it was.
"What does the fork do to the witch?" I asked.
"It takes away all her powers"
"So then I can have a nice chat with her? Once her power is gone?"
"Oh, Samantha" She said, again 'tsk'-ing and shaking her head.

I'm happy to report that I have managed more than a month without a witch sighting. It used to startle me, especially in the city when things moved out of the corner of my eye, but there are just so many things moving here, all the time, you just have to relax because its probably a bat, a bird, a leaf, a gecko, or a bug you'd rather not acknowledge. The witch could be here a week trying to sneak up on me and I might just brush her off. 'Oh, that's probably just a monkey' I'll say to myself. So even though all my visitors have left and I'm alone again, don't worry, I have a fork.

 

I love learning about the different superstitions all over the world (I think it steams from being born on a Friday the 13th). We continued talking and I was having difficulty explaining what a superstition was, so we talked about other different beliefs around here. For example, if your tooth falls out while you're sleeping it means a relative has died. When I told them about the tooth fairy I think they felt a little gypped, and then they really wanted to know more about North America. If you have any superstitions about bats please send them my way.

Coming home for realsies!

I'll be coming home Jan 10th, 2013. To buy my plane ticket I put my residence as Canadian, my passport as Canadian but my card as French with a French address that's linked to my Spanish passport while buying in American dollars... I though I had fritzed the system because it refreshed three times to tell me it was changing currency and did I approve? Then took me to a page that didn't seem quite like a confirmation. A few hours later I got the ticket delivered to my inbox so it's really true. Bitter sweet but coming and going always is.

October 2nd was the first time I ever cancelled a plane ticket. I was to fly from Panama City to Florida and figure out where to go from there. On cancelling my ticket I got half back. The ticket was less than $200 to begin with so it wasn't a big loss considering I get to stay in paradise. I learned recently that paradise came from 'walled garden' or 'enclosed park', also referred to as a limbo then finally as idyllic place. I would agree to all of the above.

This year I've been on more planes then I could remember so I've made an effort to track them. It's been a hell of a year:

Toronto to Paris (Train to Spain)

Malaga to Paris

Paris to Barcelona

Barcelona to Ibiza

Ibiza to Barcelona

Barcelona to Paris

Paris to Calvi (Train to Paris)

Paris to Toronto

Toronto to Miami to Panama City

A quick search on Goolge of "make a map of your plane trips" allowed me to make this map:



Fun Facts since my plane trip from Toronto to Paris on September 24, 201l:

Approximate time spent in flight: 28hrs

Miles covered by Plane: 12,749

Kilometers covered by Plane: 20,518

If you asked me a few months ago

Sunset in September from porch in Panama

If you had told me I'd be walking through the jungle with a dog as my guide, the moon as my light, and a bird call as my warning... I would have thought you crazy... but that was my life a month ago.

If you had told me I'd be living on a boat with a pitbull, snorkeling in secret spots, sitting top deck at night to better count shooting stars... I would have thought you crazy... but that was my life a few weeks ago.

If you had told me I'd be navigating my own little boat through mangroves in the dark, having my next door neighbor an island away, sitting at thanksgiving dinner a continent away via skype and a laptop... I would have thought you crazy... but that was my life a week ago.

If you had told me I'd be all taken care of while taking care of two bulldogs at a resort, learning how to paddle board and taking long walks on a white sandy beach... I would have thought you crazy... but that is my life these next coming weeks. 

'The Aquarium' snorkel spot, early in the morning

I'll just keep saying thanks, and thanks, and thanks again...

How I tripped and fell into paradise

I've realized a lot of people are wondering how I stumbled into Panama here's the story…

Treehouses in Paradise
Fantasy Designs for the 21st Century
by David Greenberg

Well, there I was in Spain not ready to go home but not sure of my next move. I started looking at France, living in France had been a dream of mine. Through searching for house sit opportunities, you know how the internet can be, click here and there. Well a series of clicks and suddenly I was looking at a tree house that needed a caretaker. I had really loved tree houses through a book showing a series of contest photos for a tree house design competition. I saved the page in my 'world travel' bookmark folder beside Professional Hobo, Vagabondish's 8-tools-to-travel-long-term, Ethnologue and, Greenheart travel.

I went to bed dreaming about the house I had seen. I found myself looking at the photos and re-reading the description. There were so many reasons why I couldn't do it. The dates didn't work, I was only one person when they requested two, I didn't even know where Panama was. Still I went on dreaming and day dreaming about the house.

I found two other houses in France that I wanted to message so I bought the membership on housecarers.com, (which I wrongly called house-careers for ages, Freudian slip?) I made a profile and thought of Tim Ferris. In The four hour work week he mentions how easy it is to connect with people through the internet. This was worth a message. If they didn't answer at least I put my foot in.
I'm not afraid to send the first message, not afraid to make contact. Well, actually I am afraid of the pushy-ness, rejection and possibly being ignored. But doing it so often now, putting myself out there for relationships, jobs, travel opportunities. I don't take it personally. If I don't get reciprocation it's not crippling.

So I took a deep breath and wrote:

Hi there,
I saw your post a few months ago and can't stop thinking about it. I now have a friend who would be available to housesit with me but unfortunately not until July. Are you still in need of house sitters that time of year?
Hope you're having a great day,
Samantha

I hit send and let myself forget about it. If I got a reply, great. If I didn't well I had done my part. I had showed up in the way I knew how for my seemingly unattainable dream.

I did get a reply and after a long series of emails from December to June with some phone calls I got on a plane, met up with Jenn and we made our way to The Treehouse.

We were told to follow the dogs and they would take us to a chocolate farm. Seriously! Every time I say this is makes me smile. We have a chocolate farm as a neighboring property and they do tours and show how they make their heavenly natural chocolate.

So there I was with Jenn on a tour with a group of students studying monkeys with a primatologist. Lloyd, the person who set up the tour, connecting the primatologist with the chocolate farm asked how I'd come to be here. As I was explaining I mentioned that almost all the previous house sitters had been asked to house sit other properties in the surrounding area. They were always finding a reason to stay.  "That's actually why I was asking." He said "We're looking for house sitters over at our place"

After chatting through a lot of the excursion I checked out the website and sent an introduction email right that night. I wanted to email him who I was, show him I was serious by getting in touch right away, and make sure I would make a good fit. I asked to see the contract or an outline of responsibilities. After some back and forth emails I was invited to come for two days to really see for myself what the responsibilities were and most important, if I got along with the dogs!

I've been planning on coming home to Toronto. So excited to re-unite and actually looking forward to Autumn followed by snow. I'm sure that people back home will understand though that this is an opportunity I can't refuse. From what I've seen so far Casa Cayuco is a slice of paradise. White sandy beaches, well maintained jungle paths preserving the natural beauty of the rainforest, mouthwatering flavourful meals and a guarantee that only people who appreciate the lifestyle it provides will be the ones you paddle board, snorkel, surf and explore with.

I most enjoyed laying in a hammock beside the water listening to the calm sea. Enjoying a morning coffee on the beach looking at the horizon and seeing mountains far off in the distance. I had jokingly complained to Jenn "It's not completely perfect, there are no mountains." She nodded in agreement as we waded in the warm water of the beach the first night. Then as I was sipping my coffee in the morning Lloyd said "If you take your coffee out on the dock it's clear enough now to see the mountains in the distance" I swore under my breath and could not ignore that I'd love to call this place home for the next three months.

I understand now completely why this special area of Panama was compared to Hotel California upon arrival "you can go, but you can never leave" Thankfully my visa does have an expiration so I will be taking the big bird in the sky back to Toronto but not until January 2013.