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.

"Road Trip" Day 3, 4, 5

#ThrowbackThursday This is a recap of last Aug 2013, a continuation from Road Trip Day 2

"Road Trip" Day 3 - Disco 

I spent most of the day at a coffee shop working online. I got an awesome odd job of writing descriptions for candy and other miscellaneous items which kept me nicely occupied whenever Jenn was at work. These are my two favorites from that day:

Cupcake Toothpaste
Sweeten the mundane job of brushing your teeth with Cupcake Toothpaste! Your dentist may not want you to eat a cupcake a day, but you can get the same sweet flavour without the calories, while taking great care of your pearly whites. This great-tasting toothpaste is a mouthful of that cupcake flavour you love. If you get excited about desert, you may find your self brushing after every meal, because this toothpaste tastes just like the frosting on a cupcake!

Folding Pocket Comb/ Delinquents with Combs
In the form of a switchblade knife this plastic comb will have you looking like one of the bad boys and you may just feel like one of the characters from The Outsiders. A simple button releases the comb so you can practice fast opening techniques and get your hair slicked back the second you need to tame that pesky stray hair and keep looking cool. You'll feel ready for any hoodlum adventure with your slicked-back do. Slide into lock position to keep your comb safe when not in use. Pomade, white tank top, and leather jacket not included.  

It was a really fun job. If anyone out there needs any writing related work. I'm happy to take a look!

Anyway... Later that evening it was time for the Rafters Guide Wednesday Night Disco Party. Everyone dressed up in the best disco outfits they could get their hands on. A few of us without costumes piled into Mikes car and were brought to a locked room in the rafting headquarters. Two giant dress up boxes (some called them tickle trunks) were at our disposal. We tried on all sorts of clothes from the 60's, 70's and 80's until we were each fashioned with the most ridiculous patterns.

Everyone looked amazing in their sequins, spandex, neon, and general random garb. It was off to The Lariat Bar, where Disco Night has become a summer tradition in Buena Vista. Lots of dancing and drinking had us stumbling back to Jenn's rafting trailer to get some sleep before the road trip to Boulder we were to journey to the following day.


"Road Trip" Day 4 - Meet the Family

Gary

We woke up early to pack up Gary (Jenn's car) and secure the kayak for our short voyage North. In the car Jenn found some beautiful 'Bon Voyage' white daisies waiting for her, which stayed with us the whole way (See pic left). After saying farewells to the rafting summer Gary got revved up for the first leg of our journey.

It was a scenic Colorado drive to Jenn's parents house, where I was finally going to get to meet her folks! After hearing so much about each other and having already virtually met via skype it was a warm welcome and so neat to see where Jenn had grown up after moving from Alaska. We only stayed for one night but I got a snapshot of Jenn I hadn't seen before. I helped her get all her things organized for her Oregon life to come. I even got a few glimpses of the Inspiration Books Jenn has kept regularly; filled with awesome quotes, pictures, and good vibes. 

"Road Trip" Day 5 - I heart WY

In the morning we jumped on 287, not to be confused with The 287, apparently only Canadians say 'The' before their highways, and crossed over to Wyoming. We quickly encountered camels as soon as we crossed the border, that's right camels!! We also saw some prong horns, which I had never seen before and as we searched for a rest stop we mistakenly thought "Siam Cafe" would have some coffee.Decaffeinated and grumpy, I was pretty haughty about a place calling themselves "Cafe" in huge letters when in fact they had no coffee or even tea to speak of. Thankfully Old Town Coffee was just up the street where we picked up some expensive java and paused to take a look the works of a Mother and Daughter who were debuting an art show together just that day.
We got back in the car and headed North West thinking our destination was Targhee. However while we were in the car I happened to be flipping through a travel magazine where there was a big picture of the Teton mountain range. "We can go there!!" Jenn exclaimed and promptly changed our route for the detour. By the time we got to a look out point the sun was setting and we only caught the purple clouds, the mountain range hardly visible. We jumped back in Gary and searched in the darkness for a campground close to the Grand Teton National Park. We were lucky to find one and snuck our way in, finding a secluded spot. The air was cool and I was in bliss to find a complete absence of bugs. We felt no need to set up a tent, we just laid out sleeping bags on the ground and peered up at the sky through the trees and of course pulled out the crib board. We went to sleep already excited about waking up before the sun to catch the Tetons at sunrise.

Surprise Getaway

Duluth, Minnesota

I was whisked away this weekend by my lovely boyfriend to celebrate a year of being together. I know... "Awwww's" all around! This was a huge deal for me, and it made me so happy. A significant other actually planning a trip for us to take together, and across the border! Dan even went through the rigmarole of getting our passports renewed (which for some reason took 5 visits to the passport office). I've never traveled with a boyfriend and it felt pretty lucky to use our new passports together. Dan was also the first bf I've traveled on an airplane with (last Dec), I think this means good things.

"Road Trip" Day 2 - Lets ride mustangs bareback

(Posted a little late, this took place in August 2013)

"So... how do you feel about going on an adventure?" Jenn asks, and of course I'm always up for whatever she has in store. We jump into Gary (her car) and head off through the roads of Buena Vista on a beautiful sunny day. 

Arriving at a small ranch I learn about the gentle nature of two beautiful mustangs who have been taught like no other horses I've met. These horses were never whipped or hurt to be 'broken', natural horsemanship is beautiful to witness. While sitting on Wyoming bareback she responds to the gentlest touch. Sitting forward, she knows to go forward. Leaning to the right, she knows to go right. Sitting back, she knows to stop. It really feels like the horse can read it's riders mind.
Jenn and I were allowed to walk the land on these great horses and here are my two favorite photos.

It was such a beautiful day.

"Road Trip" Day 1 - The best F*cking Monday of my life

(posted a little late, this took place Aug 2013)
Since I arrived in Buena Vista at night I had no idea the view that was waiting for me when I woke up. I stretched, yawned, and open the door to see the trailer park where all the rafting guides were living for the summer. A glance skyward had me in awe, almost everywhere you look there are beautiful 14000 foot peaks, and the sun was shinning in the valley.

The Sawatch range, on the west side of the Buena Vista valley is home to fifteen 14000 foot peaks, the largest collection in Colorado. Not only do these mountains look gorgeous, but when storm fronts come through the area they smash into the Sawatch range and dump all their water and snow on the west side of the mountains, the storm systems break apart and reform on the other side of the valley. Because of this the valley of Buena Vista is blessed with an average of 312 sunny days, the most sunny days out of any other town in the whole of the USA.

Jenn returned with Mike and it was off to coffee, breakfast burritos, and renting a raft. Then we were off to the liquor store and I still had to find shoes.
"Pull over, pull over! That's a consignment store, I'll be two minutes." I shout to Jenn as i jump out of the car.
So no, I didn't bring running shoes. I've lost so many pairs of shoes over the past two years that I only own flip flops, black flats, and some heels that have stayed in my closet at my parents. I had considered buying runners in Toronto but I had trusted our materialistic world to provide, and it did. After two minutes and $20 I was back in the car with a pair of brown and turquoise Brooks. Now I was ready to raft.

While Jenn and Mike pumped up the rafts and got things secured, I got my basic training. It was a mix of: paddle hard, stick your feet in strong, and you'll know your PFD is tight enough if your beer stays in place at the top. It wasn't time for helmets just yet, Mike drove the car to our put out (where we'd be taking the raft out) and was going to hitchhike back to our put in.

Jenn and I took that time to play a game of crib and begin to catch up on all the summer adventures.  When Mike came back I was finally nervous, I have never been on white water before and I didn't want to fall in. We went over all the saftey precautions and I knew I was with the best have-fun-BUT-safety-first guides. Mike had ran the river only once before, and Jenn was going to try her paddle at reading and running.

Notes were scribbled on paper and put in a clear dry sack giving clues on what turns and bends and rocks where coming up, but Jenn would have to rely on her training as a guide to make it through these class 4 rapids.

First you hit Primero, Segundo, Tercero, and Pumphouse; a succession of four rapids close together that give you just a taste of what you're in for.

Jenn maneuvered us and the raft by shouting out strokes that we had to obey. I did my best to plunge my paddle deep into the water without falling overboard. At the beginning my enthusiasm made up for my lack of skill but by the middle I was leaning into the action and making a strong stroke.  

Then it was Wall Slammer and rightly named. Our raft tapped the wall of the gorge and we were pushed back to the middle to observe the great walls of the canyon on either side of us. I was in awe of the 1200 ft walls of the rock on either side of us.
Then it was back to paddling. Rafting on the Royal Gorge combines Class IV rapids setting you up for a wild ride and finishing with the unanticipated bliss of completing Sunshine Falls.

Unbeknownst to us there was a photographer that captured us at Sunshine. 

After we were three quarters in we found a spot to pull up the raft where there was a small climb up the canyon to a mini ledge for cliff jumping.

I have never gone cliff jumping before. Yup, I'm just too chicken shit. This time I was armed with a helmet, a PFD, an encouraging friend, and I still had hesitation. I was clinging to the wall, just afraid to look down. Mike went first and my heart was racing. 
"If you jump before me, I'm not going to do it." I told Jenn as she offered to go ahead. 
"Well, you don't have to…" 
"I want to, I just… I've been conditioned not to do things like this." 
Moments away from a deep philosophical conversation, "You're thinking too much." 
"Yeah, you're right." I took a deep breath and launched myself from the rock, screaming all the way down. The plunge was amazing and I surfaced quickly. I was still alive, adrenaline was pumping, and as my head broke through the water I had one though: I want to do that again.
"Feet up!" Mike screamed at me as I quickly floated back to the raft turning to see Jenn jump behind me.

We were all wearing broad smiles and passed around some fireball to warm up from the cold water and added another layer of sweaters.  "That was fucking amazing! I can't believe I've never done that before!"

"Yup this is what we've been doing all summer." Mike leaned back with his arms gesturing to the life of rafting.

"I'm thinking of all the Monday's I've woken up to go to school, go into an office, get on the subway. This is the best fucking Monday of my life."

"And we still have more rapids to hit!"

We jumped one more time and got back in the raft for the craziest rapids of the gorge. One after the other, all in succession. No time to think, just listening to Jenn calling out strokes to make it through the zig zag rapids without flipping and without getting caught it the rocks. We all hollered and whooped and clicked our paddles together at the end of Sunshine. As we came to the put out we were all exhausted and euphoric.

Laying on the raft as it lets out air photo by Jenn

Photo by Jenn

It was time for dinner and I was spoiled for life in terms of white water rafting. The truth of the danger we faced didn't catch up with me until the next night at a party where the rafting guides gave major props to Jenn for reading and running the gorge. 27 people have died on that stretch of water and we had a perfect ride.

 I am so grateful for that day

Road Trip - arriving (Buffalo to Denver, August 4th)

So there I was, on a plane to Dever. John Denver's "leaving on a jet plane" stuck in my head. I was sitting beside a proud mom who wanted to set me up with her son (this actually happens more often than you'd think).
I was giddy with excitement on the plane anticipating meeting up with my friend Jenn. It will be the first time we both have functional cell phones while finding each other, and the first time we will be in an airport together. This will be the third continent we'll be traveling in together.
I get off the plane a little overwhelmed by the size of Denver airport and start looking for an exit. Jenn waiting with paper flowers and we hug and dance and jump around and hug again.
"We're in an airport!" and we start shouting random things to each other.

Jenn and I had very few conversations to plan this trip. We weren't really communicate much, sending a few letters but not talking on the phone for long periods. So the phone conversation leading up to this moment basically went like this...

"blah, blah, blah, I'm a white water rafting guide now, if you come by I can probably take you down the river." said Jenn
"When are you there till? I finish Tree planting in July."
"August, then I'm driving to Oregon for my next job."
"I can do August... roadtrip?"
"Thelma and Louise!!"
"Deal!"

A week later
"So... actually?"
"Yeah how about second week of August? Or send me a couple dates then I'll look at flights."

The week after that
"Alright I have my ticket!"
"Sweet, we're going to stop at a music festival too, I sent you a link to get a ticket."
"Awesome, I'll send you my flight details."

And that was that. We don't really make complicated traveling plans. So when we were jumping and hugging and dancing in the airport, we were also relieved that in just a few conversations we made all this happen without a hitch. Then it was a three hour night drive to Buena Vista where Jenn had spent most of her summer learning how to be an awesome white water guide. "Ok, so here's the plan, tomorrow: awesome adventure."
"Great, I'm in."

One of the things we got teased for in Panama was looking at each other once and one of us saying, "We're agreeable, right?" We seem to always be on the same page when traveling, when we need space, what needs to get done, when it's time to relax and have fun. We're pretty great at communicating and trusting each other. If the other person's got it, they've got the other persons full trust and participation. It makes for a really supportive friendship, not to be second guessed.

We had a lot of catching up to do, on the drive from the airport we only scratched the surface and then we were there, in Buena Vista. Pronounced Beux-na vista by the locals, it was not much to see by night and I got a wonderful breathtaking surprise when I woke up. "You have 45minutes to still sleep" chimed in Jenn as she left to get the whatever we needed to make the day an adventure. 

The car broke down, so I got a job and an apartment

Photo credit Courtney

I've been asked a lot how I came to move to Thunder Bay, so here's the story: 

TUESDAY
Back in July, I got invited to a tree planters wedding in Toronto and since I was still in the extended summer plant, I didn't think I would be able to make it. Then I found out the plant was shortened and we were going to finish the contract early, but not close enough to make the wedding. Then, the week leading up to the wedding, on the Tuesday night, the supervisor mentioned he was headed to the nearest town (2hrs away) at 3pm the next day, to drop someone off who was leaving two days early...

Something stirred inside me and I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned till 1am and finally went to try and use the internet. Teddy, my tree runner for the first weeks was heading on a road trip from Thunder Bay to Toronto to go to the wedding, and had offered to give me a ride. (He had left the plant early to take care of some things before going to Toronto)

So, I sent Teddy a message:  

Hey Teddy!!! Since the moment you left I wish I'd gone with you. If you're still in TBay tomorrow, I'm coming!!

He messaged me back seconds later:

haha aww, treeplanting is hard :(
I was going to leave tomorrow morning sometime but I'm in no rush, I can definitely wait up for you if you want :) let me know

It was set:

Yes!! I'll hop on a bus to T'Bay and call you in the afternoon.
What's your number?

I finally went to bed, super excited that I was going to be DONE tree planting, AND that I was going to make it to the wedding AND that I got to have an Ontario road trip with one of my favorite people from tree planting. 

WEDNESDAY

Photo credit Courtney, Treeplanting supervisor

I ambushed the supervisor at 5am and told him I'd be leaving with him too, at 3pm. I spent the day packing up my things and figuring out the Greyhound bus. Calling a number of times through MagicJack, riding off the internet I finally got a phone call through. No, I could not buy a ticket the operator told me, but I could wait on the corner of Manitouwadge and hwy 614, and the bus would see me and stop... A little apprehensively I waited with my bags and realized I was fully prepared to set up camp if a bus never came. 

It was the sweetest bus ride ever, no more bumpy bush roads, no more bugs, a comfy seat and AC! I was amazed at how beautiful the scenery was. There were people taking this bus across Canada and checking off marvelous lakes on maps as we passed by. I couldn't help but think again, I could live up here.

Photo credit Courtney

I stepped off the Greyhound in Thunder Bay and looked around for Teddy. He picked me up in his sisters car and broke the news; Teddy's car had just broken down and was towed to the nearest mechanic. We'd be stuck in Thunder Bay awaiting his car's diagnosis. Everything had been smoothly operating but while waiting for me, he went on an errand and the car broke down completely.

THURSDAY

Photo credit Courtney, Teddy and Luna

I stayed at his sisters house and enjoyed a free day, so happy to be in a house instead of a camp, and free from planting. The freedom embraced me and I took so much pleasure in branching off on my own and walking around town. I was jonesing for a bookstore and after asking around and was directed to a small bookshop.

I started talking to the lovely lady at the counter and asked if they were hiring. They only accept volunteer's, so I offered to volunteer and left my email address. We continued to talk, I told her about my blog, she told me about possible writing groups, I asked about job leads in the area. Then I asked about apartments in the area. I really liked this part of town as it's already where I know some good people live. "Actually... we have an apartment upstairs, but you'll have to talk to Margaret about it."
 
I met back up with Teddy and did some online work for my aunt. The car's diagnosis was not good, and we started checking flights to get us to the wedding. Air fare was more than double the price for a last minute ticket so we bought the Monday flight and hung our heads that the wedding was out of reach.  

The t-shirt says Front: A breed apart
Back: There are everyday men and women...and there are treeplanters.

That night, since we weren't leaving till Monday, drinks were in order. A group of us cleaned up tree planters went to the Sovereign room and Foundry, the popular pubs of T Bay. Before we left each I asked about a good time to stop by to drop off a resume, and was told to come back in the afternoon. I came back to an email from the book store, to come by anytime between 2:30 and 6 the next day. 

FRIDAY
I printed out my resume at the library and headed The Sovereign Room. A most popular spot, with cool decor, eclectic beer list, and amazing food. That's where I really wanted to go, I had thought about working there the first time I came in, and had my first tasty bite of jalepeno empanadas. As luck would have it, the manager checked out my resume and had also been to Bocas del Toro, had also spent time in Toronto and just found out he needs someone in the middle of August. I could be here mid August... so we shook on it.

Pretty thrilled about that, I headed to the book store. The rent was more than I was looking to spend for a room so I went upstairs to see the place. It wasn't just a room as I had expected, but a full apartment with art and writing studio space. Freshly painted with lots of nice natural light and the only furniture: a big writing desk with chair. "It's like we were just waiting for you and it was meant to be." said Margaret. So I put down a deposit right then and agreed to moving in mid August.
 

the desk

The whole place reminds me of when I lived in High Park and Bloor West Village. I would have never been able to get an apartment close to this size for the price in Toronto. The best part is in 30minutes I can be in the wilderness, in 5minutes I can be by the water front, in 3minutes I can be at work, in 30seconds I can be in a bookstore. 

Then it was time for some crazy bush party, the supervisor was having a Fun in the Sun party that would last the whole weekend for all the tree planters still in the area. Teddy and I had to participate. So I should let you know, it was a surprise for me to leave to road trip to the wedding, so you can imagine the surprise for my boyfriend. Then the car breaking down was also a surprise to me, and so continuing with the surprises we just showed up at Fun in the Sun. I was oblivious, but the relationship was already toast and he evacuated the courtship faster than it took to say bookstore. All the other people made it an awesome party and I laughed till my sides ached. 

Photo credit Courtney

A lot of tree planting relationships start and end with the season. It was so hard to accept that it was over when it was. I didn't pause about Thunder Bay though. There were other great people who would make my transition here seamless, thanks Shannon and Steph!
 
Actually I had wanted to move to Thunder Bay when I was seventeen. I held the acceptance letter to the pilot program at Confederation College in my right hand and the course catalog for Holistic Studies to stay in Toronto in my left. I figured I wanted a foundation for life before anything else and the Holistic Health program could give me that, and figured I could get my private pilot license when I was 50, or whenever I happened to get to Thunder Bay...  

MONDAY
You may remember this facebook update and maybe now it makes more sense:

What a weekend!! Tried to make a wedding and ended up staying in Thunder Bay, where I got a job and an apartment: You're looking at the new resident writer of a Bookstore! And got dumped, surprise! My stomach hurts from laughing so much at Nolalu fun in the Sun and have a plane ticket to Toronto in the morning. To all you Torontonians, LETS PARTY!!

So there it is, the story of how I came to live in Thunder Bay, and also this song (thanks Larsen!):

 

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.

Tree planting (part 2)

On my best numbers day of hitting 3000 trees, I got a rush of adrenalin from pushing myself so hard; mind, body, spirit. I had conquered much inner resistance, my sankara's. I had pushed through everything and felt like I was ready for anything.

bunch of butterflies

I spent the first weeks of planting with lots of breaks. For me it was hard to remember it was still a job and to manage my time wisely. I was basking in the non-responsibility of it all. I didn't have to worry about sinking boats, or other people's land and property, no one was asking anything of me, and I was pretty content.

frog bum

One of my tree runner's, Teddy (the person who makes sure you have enough trees to plant in your land), stopped asking me about how many trees I'd planted and instead asked "Okay Sam, what did you see today?" The list has gotten pretty long, "A big blue jay today". I've seen bunnies, frogs, toads, birds of all colours, butterflies galore. My best find, that I am most proud of was 3 lunar moths after a light rain. As soon as I saw it I dropped everything, ran to get my phone with a camera and ran back to take a photo. I continually gave thanks for seeing beautiful land that maybe only 100 people would ever get to see. Growing up in a big city I'm used to land that gets trod on by thousands of people every day. My favourite thing was finding little pockets, like a perfect sitting rock in the middle of ten foot poplar with wild flowers attracting butterflies.

two lunar moths

Pre tree planting I thought seeing chopped forests with scattered piles of macerated wood, called slash piles would be what moved me to tears. "So you go in and plant after they've raped the land?" one friend asked over the phone (who uses toilet paper, paper towels, and stationary like the rest of us). I was angry about the concept of clear cutting but seeing (Northern Ontario) up close, mother nature is resilient and makes lush green spaces no matter how harshly you cut away. There would be other things to make me cry. One of my planting partners Steph, and I, made lots of jokes about the land, we keep fucking mother nature all day long, pounding our shovels into the earth, sliding our fingers in to put that tree in deep, she keeps batting us away with swarms of bugs, slaps in the face with poplar branches, biting us with rocks, always putting up the better fight, leaving us a little more wounded for the next day. Her cruelest trick is wasps allowed to live in the ground.

Frog on slash

The last week of planting snuck up on me and my procrastination determination sunk in. I was ready to have my best week and give my all. I hated seeing my name near the bottom of the list when the totals were printed, I was working, but not like a hardcore tree planter (I could get 1000-1500 trees in and be satisfied. Where other rookies around me were hitting 3000-4000) My Tuesday started like no other. I didn't have my shovel or my planting bags, I was passed a message in the morning that my gear was in the truck that had left earlier. When I got there though, no bags, not even extra bags, and no shovel. I sat for two hours under a tarp and had a nap. Most people can hit at least 300-600 trees in that time, and I was napping. I was passive aggressive and doing my best to not care, "That's a total days break for me anyway, who cares? I don't like planting anyway…" Then some bags and a shovel came. Bags are not instantly one size fits all. They need to be adjusted at the hips and shoulders. Thankfully it was a nice shovel, short and angled. I bagged up (counted out bundles of trees and put them into two side bags. I keep my right side bundles wrapped in their cellophane because my shovel stays in my right hand. I unbundle the trees in my left side bag, so my planting hand can easily grab the loose trees. The bundles are usually 20-25 one year saplings of black spruce or jack pine.) and I went to make my line in.

photo credit - Taylyn

I hate this part, starting at the front, looking for some kind of random direction marker in the distance and just hoping it's kind of straight (but it ALWAYS veers) this was a super shallow piece and I hit the back line (where the natural forest starts) really quickly. You don't plant in the forest but there can be some pockets to fit a couple trees. I peered in, I thought just three trees would fit (6ft apart) when my flight reaction kicked in. Pain seared in my hand and I instantly dropped my shovel, wasps were at me. More blasts to my legs and I was running, tearing off my bags so I could get back to the road. Screaming and swearing and crying. They got my shovel hand right between the thumb and pointer finger. My leg had three stings too and were already starting to swell. I hobbled back to my cache (where I had napped earlier) sobbing with "Fuck!" flying furiously. I put on some Icy Hot muscle relief (best bug after-bite) swore some more and went back to find my shovel. I already had a two hour break, I had no excuse to not plant, wasps unfortunately are part of the job. I spent the next few hours raging with anger. "How come I was here? I'm obviously the stupidest person in the world thinking I can do this, this is not a job for me." I got so fed up I dropped my bags and just walked on the bush road, "I'm quitting, I don't care if there's only a week left. Fuck it all." I said to no one as I picked my bags back up and hauled ass. I planted 2225 that day, a personal best and started two hours late and still had breaks. Yes I would be back tomorrow.

It's pretty but imagine planting trees in that...

At the beginning, the hardest thing about tree planting for me was making quick decisions and then committing to that decision. You plant a tree, take a step and make a new hole 6ft away, but land is not anything close to a perfect field and you have to choose where your tree is going to go, is there nutrient rich soil, is it going to be to close to the last trees you planted? I would hesitate where to throw my shovel and that is the worst time waster. Or I would throw in my shovel and renege. The days that I was angry I stopped being a perfectionist and pushed myself through the hesitation. The first day I hit 3000 trees I knew I conquered that hesitation and knew I could hold onto that for other projects to come. And boy do I have a list of projects.

swamp flower

So tree planting was hard because of the bugs and the wasps and the ever changing temperature. It was also hard to push myself everyday, to not take a break, to think quickly, to commit to my decision, to not compare myself to other planters. It was also extremely rewarding. You don't have a boss telling you what to do. You get to be outside in nature all day long. You are exposed to fun and ridiculous moments every day you go to work. Every tree planter thinks of quitting and how much they hate it, but more often then not the tree planters come back to push themselves through another year. To enjoy in the lifestyle that you get accustomed to out in the bush with all the familiar friendly faces. You get the satisfaction of knowing you're doing something great, planting trees, and making money that you don't have a chance to spend until after you're done. You can treat it like a sport, as a job, as a way to put your whole life on hold for a few months. It truly was an unforgettable experience.

I've been describing these as 'what faeries would ride'

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!

From the South to the North

So I left Panama at the tail end of April thinking (as I seem to always do) that I would be staying in Toronto for a whole lot of time. I wanted to rent a studio space, work on some art projects, get a bar job working on a patio in the summer. That intention was all well and good until I got invited to a going away party of a friend's girlfriend. Where a conversation went something like this:

"Where are you off to Katia?"
"Tree planting in BC."
"What?!?! I've always wanted to do that! I've been missing the application deadline since I first heard about it when I was 18, or I've been out of the country."
"Well, now's the time to apply because this is when people drop out, here's my foreman's email."

So that night, as most nights when I get a crazy idea in my head that I want to do something (for no other explainable reason then I want to do it), I couldn't sleep. I had only been back in Toronto for one week and here I was producing a full explanation for a foreman of why I wanted to go tree planting and why I'd make a good addition to the team. I put a fair amount of time and energy in that email, and figuring most of the work was done, I might as well do a search online and apply to EVERY tree planting company possibly hiring rookies (first time planters). This was a Thursday and exactly one week since I landed in Toronto.

I closed my computer resolving I had to continue with my job search in Toronto like nothing happened or was happening. I went to interviews and found even at the post I was most excited for I was still pushing a fake happy and while I waited for the second round of interviews I stared at my silent phone whispering in my head and to all the tree planting companies, 'please call, so I don't have to go in there' but nothing happened, no one called, I continued with my interviews.

It was Thursday again, and the opening night of The Great Gatsby, so of course I was dressing up. With my hair in curlers, and a 1920's dress waiting for me, I had dinner with my parents before going out. I was just explaining to my dad why I'm certain that I can now only live in spaces with an abundance of nature. How living with the outdoors in Panama fed my soul and I want to be somewhere where I can be outside all day. He was coming around to my way of thinking, certainly not for himself, but at least understanding where I was coming from when my step-mom called from in the house that my cellphone was ringing. "Yes! Please answer it." and I bolted upstairs.

"Hello?"
"klsdfnlnaeroianladsfklsadrjpwmlkfgmoiert"
It took a while for my brain to wrap around what was said,
"Sorry, where are you calling from?"
something something "Tree planting"
That was the magic word I needed to get super excited and have a truly happy interview. The talk with my dad made all my answers easily roll of the tongue. I knew I was in for a tough time of hard work, I knew I'd be living in a tent, and I knew I would be out in nature all day, every day.
"Can you start on Monday?"
That's when my I faltered. Monday, that was three days and a few hours away, and I would have to get myself to Thunder Bay.
"When's the latest I can let you know? Alright, I'll email or call tomorrow morning."

I went back to my parents beaming and fooling myself, but not them, that I hadn't made a decision yet. I had to sleep on it, buy steel toed construction boots and see how much airfare was before I could officially commit. As I finished dolling up in the mirror, I was so happy it wasn't a skype interview, there is no way someone would hire me for back breaking work looking like this.

Friday I woke up early, and looked at the list that was sent to me. I now had three days to get everything, where normally people had three months to prepare. I took a deep breath and went to Mark's Work Warehouse for some CSA approved boots and a hardhat. Of course I was saying yes!

Camping Gear
− quality waterproof tent
− tarpaulin/ground sheet
− warm sleeping bag (rated -15 desgrees Celsius)
− extra blanket, therma-rest, pillow
− flashlight, lantern
− eating utensils (plate, bowl, cup, cutlery, etc.)
− tupperware containers (for field lunch)

Working Gear
− rain suit (coat and pants) - nylon or rubber (quality!)
− Duct tape
− sunglasses, hat, sun screen, lip balm
− insect repellent (Watkins if you can find it, if not, something with “deet”)
− Insulated water jug (4L or more)
− Small day pack (to carry lunch, gear, etc)
− Comfortable, CSA approved work boots (Break them in before coming.  You'll thank us)
− Work socks (Many pairs.  Polypropylene undersocks paired with wool are best)
− T-shirts (many)
− Sweaters (expect snow at least once)
− Long underwear, toque
− The ability to use all of the above

Personal Gear
− Alarm clock and Watch
− Matches/lighter
− Swim suit
− Toiletries
− Towel
− Clothing for days off
− Spending money
− Mosquito coils
− MP3 Player, camera, deck of cards, etc.
− Ibuprofen
− Personal first aid kit (band-aids, etc.)
− Journaling tools.  Pens, paper, notebook, etc.
− We recommend bringing about $200 cash to cover any unexpected incidentals

Planting Tools
− Planting shovel
− Planting bags
− CSA approved hard-hat
− High visibility vest

the torture of being spoiled

It's been so hard to write this, because every time I do my tummy starts to rumble and I head to the kitchen, looking for goodies instead of continuing, but I'll try to explain my situation, the torture of being spoiled…

So there I was, sitting at the Calypso Cantina, flipping through a laminated menu. Passing through all the pages of what I could have, I couldn't pick what I wanted.
"I'll just have what you're having", I finally said with a sigh.
"What have you been eating out there?" Brandon asked.
'Out there' being Casa Cayuco on Bastimentos, it's rare to actually be in town going to restaurants.
"Well you know, whatever Sue makes. I don't have to really decide",  I say gesturing to the menu. I start to gaze off into the distance and get a glazed look in my eyes. "Yesterday, wow she made this really cool thing" my mouth starting to water, "it was so good, it was like mashed potatoes but with garlic and really creamy, but not too creamy, but smooth, and, Oh! The night before that though, there was fish that was fresh caught and she cooked it in these different spices, but it wasn't spicy, but then I added hot sauce. Oh and the appetizers, there were these fresh kind of spring rolls, with…" I feel the saliva building up as I can't quite fully describe one meal before jumping to another. "and the things she does with onions, I'm already a fan of onions, but she makes some that are sweet, oh and garlic aioli, she makes all her own stock and sauces. I like that nothing goes to waste, and..."
"Yes, we're ready" Brandon says to the server I don't realize is waiting behind me.
I close the menu, and remember what Jenn says about 'Cheating on your food' by talking about past meals in front of your present one. I enjoy my meal and can't help but recall a lot of other great things I've eaten.

"Is there anything you haven't liked?" Brandon asks.
"Well…" I have to think for a moment, then again just launch into other distracted monologue of dishes I've loved. "I guess I don't like that I don't really cook for myself anymore." I finally say, admitting that having Sue as a chef I will eat anything without hesitation (even crunch on shrimp with tail and shell on) and I've even enjoyed, and look forward to her pulled pork, alert the veggie police.

Then a break of no guests leaves me alone in the kitchen to fend for myself. I just end up making mostly salads and pasta and Spanish tortilla, with much appreciated emails from Sue about where all the good stuff is, chocolate pudding, babaganush, chips fried in coconut oil. I didn't finish the babaganush because I ate all the chips first, but I did polish off a whole container of the best chocolate pudding I've ever had (excuse me while I go raid the fridge).

I'm often compared to an 18 year old boy for how much I pack away. I just can't refuse great, lovingly prepared, fresh food, I need to eat it. My biggest weakness is cookies, and I try to hold back, but usually any visit to the kitchen has me sniffing on top of the fridge for any extra home made ones, ginger, peanut butter, lemon shortbread, I make it my mission to make sure no cookie goes to waste.

Now, being spoiled at the bar, I can have any cocktail I wish, whenever. I can grab a ginger ale and just walk away. I've gotten so used to just grabbing a drink and walking away, and that's exactly what I did by accident when I went to Bocas.
"I'll have a coke, thanks." I didn't pay, but just took my drink and walked away. Thankfully I hadn't gotten far before I remembered I wasn't at 'home' and promptly walked back to hand over some cash.

Brandon came over Saturday, and as he was eating dinner I realized, "Wow, that's the same thing you had last time, isn't it? That's really unlucky." I stated.
"Really? She doesn't just have a set menu that she repeats?" he asks, as he reaches onto my plate for more, unphased that he's having the same dish twice.
"Ha, no, a few things I've had twice for sure, but it's all based on what she actually has, she can't actually pre-make a weeks menu, she can't predict when someone will catch a Red Snapper or ..."
"I just realized... that's what you had last time, isn't it?" Sue comes over to us and asks.
Brandon makes to nod, "Yeah, but it's great" he says between bites.
"Hmm..." and then a moment later he has a small plate of tiny portions of leftovers, the onions I talked about, a bit of pulled pork, cabbage salad, some kind of garlic patty thing.

Well, lunch has just been served, and I've been tortured by the smell of it for a while, so I'll be heading back to the kitchen...

Bloggers Block

So I've had a case of bloggers block over the past weeks. Not for lack of things to say, but really unsure of where to start...

I can tell you about the vine snake that wrapped itself around a nest so that the mama bird wrangled all of her birdy friends to try to annoy it out of the tree. How I ended up grabbing the snake and taking it away with a kayak paddle, to make an alliance of birdy friends...

I can tell you about celebrating the beaux's birthday in Bocas town, meeting two of his awesome friends that showed up as a surprise from Costa Rica, and trying wake boarding on a surf board for the first time...

I can tell you about the amazing weather we've had, absolutely perfect clear blue skies, glassy clear water, and how I enjoyed it all to myself for a few days, working hard... on my tan ;)

Angus trying to take over my hammock when I was in Bocas town

I can tell you about the giant shift in the staff, and the new found excitement to learn English, so that Sue and I are constantly pouring over books, verbs, and odd pronunciations...

I can tell you about how I snapped at someone I love very much, and who I hope is out of my life forever. How that has made me re-evaluate my plans here in Panama, and intrigued me to give another part of the globe a try. How is it I never know where I'll be next...

I can tell you about how very long Anna Karenina is, and how I read Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking in one sitting just to mix it up a little, and then really wanted a martini...

I can also tell you about how absolutely grateful I am to be a part of things here at Casa Cayuco. I am never left wanting, never asked too much, and always left feeling appreciated. My cup is never empty, my tummy always full, and the laughter keeps on coming...

Actually, that's what I want to tell you about most, so stay tuned for "The torture of being spoiled" and what living out here has really done to me!

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.