Pictures

So I was going to go back through and add relavent pictures to the blogs, but it's taking too long. So I won't.

. . . maybe later.

But probably not.

Cheers.

Weird Phases

Sorry for the weird phase there. I'm doing much better now. No more crying over shirt sizes.

But today I realized that I have entered ANOTHER weird phase of my travels. Let me tell you about it.

With my free, bonus day, I went to Cuzco's best Inca ruins. I know I'm at a weird phase in my travels when I can go to what used to be the richest, most luxurioulsy decorated Inca ruins that are integrated into the structure of a beautiful huge church, and be most impressed by the BATHROOMS!

Oh my gosh, I would have paid the entrance fee just to use that bathrooms, if I had known about them in advance.

First of all, it was FREE to use the bathrooms. AND each stall has it's own toilet paper. I didn't have to carry my own roll around with me OR buy some by it the square OR take some from the communal roll before entering the stall, which always runs the risk of a) taking too much and looking like you're about to do some disgusting business, or b) taking too little and . . . running into a problem. AND the doors closed. All the way! I didn't have to try and hold the door shut with one foot while using the other one to balance. THEN the toilet flushed AUTOMATICALLY. And there was SOAP and HOT WATER and AUTOMATIC sinks that WORKED! It felt like a real sink, not like a toddler druling on me! I probabaly spent 5 minutes washing my hands, just because I could. And then I dried them in the hot air blower things, that actually blew hot air!

The ruins were nice too, but, wow, those bathrooms. . .



(Also, side note, you know our world has come to a weird phase when you can't afford to enter a church. That just doesn't seem right.)

Turns Out I'm A Liar

I am still ready to come home.
But I leave on the 18th. Not on the 17th.
I get home on the 19th. Not on the 18th.

Time For Me To Come Home

I think it's time for me to come home.
Actually, I'm quite sure of it.

I know this becuase:
a) I've run out of money
b) My flight is tomorrow
c) Yesterday AND today when I was trying to buy something for my little bro, I almost started crying because I couldn't figure out which size to get. (Don't ask me why I almost started crying. Believe me, it surprised me too.)

So I'm quite glad to be coming home tomorrow. Even though what I mean by that is leaving for home tomorrow. I'll be home the day after.

I'm in one of my autistic moods today. What I mean by that (for those of you who haven't heard me use that phrase), is that I don't make eye contact, I don't feel like talking to people, and I feel like staying in bed and reading all day.

I tried to kick myself out of it this morning, walked around, couldn't find where I wanted to go, got tired, and went back to my hostal. Then I stayed there for a bit. Then I took a nap. Then I said, "Lila, this is your last day in South America, go do something." But I really, really, really didn't feel like doing anything. Especially in Cuzco where people keep telling me to buy stuff. But, after remembering all the people yelling at me about relaxing masages, I forced myself out of bed, walked to the town square, and followed the first person that yelled at me about relaxation.

It was an awesome massage. Especially for 25 soles (about $8.50).

I thought that after I would feel rejuvinated and ready to go do stuff, but I don't. I tried to go shopping again, and, like I said before, almost started crying 'cause I couldn't choose a size for my not-so-little-little-brother. (Result: All of the VERY FEW gifts are things that don't have to fit correctly. Like sweat bands).

And then I gave up on shopping. I don't want to do anymore. Thought that counts, right? So if you feel like I should have got you something, know I probably thought about it. . . and then gave up. Does that make you feel better?

Bleh. I feel sick. I may have been a little too adventerous with my food and drink yesterday. (Pink, frothy, home brewed corn beer??? Guine Pig??? What was I thinking?). Oh how I long for honey nut cheerios and mac & cheese (not together). But right now, honestly, any food sounds gross.

So now I don't know what to do. I feel like I was adventerous enough yesterday to carry over to today. I ruined many tourists' pictures. I tried to feel bad about it, but it didn't work.

Let me tell you what happened.

Background: Peru is a Catholic country that likes to party. Not "party" in the sense of nightly drunken debauchary, but more in the sense of every Catholic saint is deserving of a parade with dancers and everyone drinking beer (normal beer, not pink corn beer).

I followed music to find the celebration in the middle of some random street and sat down to watch. The dances were really intersing. There were a couple different ones - some were all ladies in bright colors, others were me in masks that honestly kind of really scared me who would whip each other to demonstrate force (weirdest thing I've seen in my life), and so on. I sat on the curb and watched, and asked the people next to me what was going on. The people next to me came and went, and eventually I was sitting next to a whole bunch of the non-scary dancers. We talked for awhile, and then the parade moved into a plaze a couple streets away. I was in charge of carrying all the non-scary dancers' drinks.

When we got to the plaza, and the non-scary dancers had finished their performance, they all came and sat with me. So there was I - jeans & gross, smelly t-shirt - in the middle of all the dancers in their beautiful, intricately beaded costumes (which I spilled soda on). When their dinner got passed out, they made sure I got some too. And same with the drinks. When the tourists tried to get a picture of all of them, I could see them looking at me with a "what the heck is she doing their" look on their face.

Made me laugh.

I might join the dancers again tonight. If I don't go to sleep first. Maybe I'll just go for a little bit. . . but I really want to go to sleep. And I feel like my head might explode. Wow, feeling sick sucks.

We'll see.

Okay, that's it for now. This is probably my last blog entry. . . that's probably a lie.

I'll see you soon.

Lots of love.

Bye.

Question

If you saw me right now, you might ask this question:

"Lila, why are you carrying a dead guine pig around in a bag?"

And this is what I would say:

"Because I got it for lunch, discovered that whoever said it tasted like chicken either is an idiot or has only had really disgusting chicken, got a to-go bag because I didn't want to insult them, AND NOW I CAN'T FIND A TRASH CAN!!!!"


Seriously, probably the most disgusting thing I've had in my life.

It had a claw.

All The Good Stuff

So I realized on the train from Aguas Cailentes to some unpronounceable city that I totally forgot to write all the good stuff. I must have left a very bad impression of Machu Picchu, which would be entirely incorrect.

So here I am, to correct myself.

Even though the climb almost killed me, I am so proud of myself for doing it. I would have NEVER thought I could have done it, and I did it. So that definitely ends on a posivie note.

Also, it turns out that the climb to Wanya Picchu wasn't all that spectacular because it was really ridiculously foggy and you couldn't even see Machu Picchu.

And it supposedly started to rain and thunder right after I left and continued for the rest of the afternoon (I had beautiful weather).

On top of that, Machu Picchu in itself is absolutely breathtaking. I kept going through my pictures again and agian on the train ride, not able to believe I actually went there. It's. . . amazing. So intricately constructed. They didn't use anything to hold the rocks together because they carved them to fit together perfectly. And there are llamas everywhere. I love llamas!!

Oh! I realized that I didn't even write about getting to Machu Picchu, which, in itself, was quite an adventure. I got to Cuzco in the wee hours of the morning, when it got light I went and found a hostal. Then after sitting in the hostal for 5 minutes waiting for the owner to clean out a room for me, I decided that I didn't want to be in Cuzco. I wanted to go to Machu Picchu, and I wanted to go right then. Because I would have been REALLY disappointed if I ran out of time to go.

So, even though the only train had already left, I figured I would just start heading in that direction and see what happened.

But then I realized that my camera had been stolen, and I went and sat in the plaza and went through all my stuff. A little boy came and sat with me and tried to make me feel better. He was cute. Maybe 7 years old. He told me about a city between here and Machu Picchu that was really beautiful. In return, I bought an overpriced llama finger puppet from him. (Those of you who know me know how much of a sacrifice that was for me because I hate spending money on useless things and I really, really hate puppets).

Then I got a taxi to a bus station, a bus to Urubamba, and a shared cumbi to that unpronounceable city. A total of 11 soles, or about $3.75. Then from there, I went to the train station. There was a train leaving in 1/2 and hour for Aguas Caientes (train is the only way to get there). It was the most expensive type of train. There were three types, but the one I would have prefered (half the price)was booked for the next two days. So I thought "just suck it up" and I bought the ticket. I considered getting one back for the following the evening, but ultimately got one for two days from then in the morning.

The train was SO NICE. In my traveling, I'm used to ripped fabric seats. But these were huge leather ones. The food was that tiny kind of food that looks super expensive. Really good too! And the windows were HUGE! I saw the other trains, and their windows were tiny. It was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO beautiful; I was thankful for the huge windows.

You know in the beginning of the movie George of The Jungle when they show the whole jungle? It looks like that. Amazing.

So I went into Aguas Caientes, and you know the Machu Picchu story from there.

Another good thing: how often do you get the excuse to sleep 19 hours straight??

This morning I got back on my ridiculously nice train with men that get manicures and 12 year olds that wear more make up that I've worn in my whole life (accumulatively), and I rode to the unpronounceable city. From there, I got a ride to Urubamba with a nice Dutch family that had hired a car. From there I got a bus to the tiny city the little boy told me about.

And that's where I am now. A city of 900 people in the middle of nowhere. There aren't any resturants, are 2 hostals, and are really cute kids. I flew kites with them.

I know that I've written a lot of "bad" things, but I want to emphasize that I've really have had a great trip.

And despite (almost) getting roofied, almost killing myself on the mountain, and getting my camera & $100 stollen, I'd say BY FAR the worst, most frustraiting and disappointing thing that's happened to me is the horrid watch tan that I've acquired.

And when a watch tan is the worst thing that I'm most upset about, I'd say it's been a pretty good trip.

Lots of love.

Maddness

After much debate, discussion, and research, I have come to a very educated and important conclusion:

The Incas were crazy.

Then after what I did yesterday, I've discovered something else:

I'm worse than they were.

To demonstrate why, let me tell you a story. I have to admit up front that I'm a little disappointed about my limited time and my limited ability with word manipulation, because I feel like I won't be able to paint a very accurate represention of my near death (don't worry parents, I'm okay now) experience. But let's give it a go, shall we?


Now to start off, I would like you to think back to 8/12/10 around 10:00pm. What were you doing? Maybe watching tv? Eating? Checking your facebook? Normal night stuff, right? Want to guess what I was doing? I'll tell you: Getting out of bed to start my day. "But Lila," you must be thinking, "You're time difference isn't that much. What time was it for you?"

It was 2:00am.

There's a hike that you can do to watch Machu Picchu at sunrise from the big hill behind it. I heard that it was worth it, so I decided to do it. I know I'm a lot slower than the average bear, so I left an hour early to give myself extra time.

I walked a long way in the pitch black (thank you for the headlight!!!) until I got to the entrance to the gate to Machu Picchu at the bottom of the hill. Where I realized I forgot my ticket. And also learned that they don't even open the gates to start the hike unitl 4:45. So I walked (hiked!) back to my hostal, got my ticket, and returned. It was now about 4:30 already.

When the gates opened and they started letting people in, I started what I thought would be a nice hike to the top.

No.

Chris, Kerry (save his ankle), or Stuart would have been completely fine.

I was a different story.

I had to stop often to catch my breath. And not in a "oh, I just jogged around the track, so I need to catch my breath" type of way, but more in a "Holy Crap! This must be what an asthma-attack-feels-lile-I-can't-breathe" type of way.

After awhile, I was in the back. Which I didn't really mind because a) there weren't THAT many people climbing, b) I liked going at my own pace, and c) I liked being able to turn off my flashlight during my breaks and be in pitch black. That's kind of cool.

Can I just say that THANK GOD that it was dark, because if it had been light enough for me to see what was in front of me, there's no way in heaven, hell, or opposite land that I even would have CONSIDERED doing what I did. No fricken' way.

I really can't describe it better than to say that it's by far the hardest and stupidest thing I've ever done. I keep thinking that I would have topped myself and leave it like that (applying to 24 colleges, climbing the highest mountain in Ghana when I was really wickedly sick - TWICE, climbing the Great Wall in China when I was super sick. . . .), but no! This tops it all.

Oh! AND I have a theory. You know those guys who climb Mt. Everest without oxygen? I reckon that they just forgot it. Because I did that stupidly huge mountain without water. I heard that you couldn't bring food or disposible water bottles into Machu Pichu, so I didn't bring any. Turns out you can.

And when I got to the top - FINALLY - just before 6, I was met not with the sunrise over Machu Picchu, but with a line to get into Machu Pichu.

Needless to say, I was confused. But that's what happens when you don't do your homework.

So I joined the others in the line. Some of them were fellow hikers, others were getting off the busses that were just arriving.

The first 400 people in like got to do the hike to Wayna Picchu, which is what I thought I just climbed. When the guy came around and asked me if I wanted to go at 7 or 10, I said 7 (I wanted to get it over with), the person next to me said 10 and he stamped their ticket and moved on.

I was a little concerned about not getting a stamp, but I figured it was noting. Maybe only 10:00 people got stamps.

So I entered Machu Picchu and explored as I made my way over to the entrance to the Wayan Pichu climb (just so you know, I'm spelling that completely wrong). I shot up a quick prayer. "If I'm supposed to go, let me get in. If I'm not, let me need a stamp."

Well, turns out I needed a stamp. After waiting in line for a half out and making friends with a lot of people in the line, there were cries of outrage (seriously!) when I got turned away.

But I knew it was for the best.

I don't know why, but I still found a deserted corner and cried for 5 minutes. It was uncharacteristic of me, but I was tired.

So instead of climbing another stupidly big mountain, I explored Machu Pichu, which was really, really cool. I could tell you more about it, but I'm running out of time and you can look at it online. I want to tell you more about the story specific to me.

Around 11:00, I decided that it was time for me to go home. "What? So early?" You forget that a) I had been there for 5 hours already, b) I had no food, c) I had climbed a giant mountain, and d) I was scared of passing out.

So I made my way to the riduculously expensive and long bus ride down the hill. While sitting on the bus, I reflected on what a blessing it was that I didn't get my ticket stamped. If I had, honestly, something bad might have happened. It's a dangerous trail, and I wasn't up to facing it. I most likely would have had to be air lifted out, which, as cool as it would have been, would have also been expensive and inconvenient.

So I went home at 11:00. Got food from the first place I saw (I ate alpaca), and went to my hostal. I was in bed before 1:00 and didn't get out until my alarm woke me up at 8:20am this morning.

Wow.

Now really quickly, I'm going to see if there's a picture of what I climbed. Then I have to go.

Nope, can't find one. They probably do that on purpose for some werid reason. But try looking up the hike from Aguas Caientes to Machu Picchu.

Love you!!!

My Wish For You

I hope you weren't hoping to see any pictures.
Because my camera just got jacked.

Be Safe

That's what people keep telling me: Be Safe.
Well, you'll be happy to know that it's exactly what I'm doing.
If I could describe my actions at this exact moment, it would be being safe.

My bus got into Cuzco at 5:30 this morning, so now I'm hanging out in the bus station until it gets light. It just doesn't seem like a very inteligent idea to be wandering a city by myself in the wee, dark hours of the morning.

So I'll write a little about my past travels.

I mentioned Adam & Aaron in my last blog. They are the guys from England that can eat ridiculously a lot. We ended up hitting it off and hung out a lot in Arica. We attempted surfing, climbed a mountain, bought/cooked/ate an octopus, and played Uno. Then we met some other people at the hostal around our age - Brodie and Leigh - and the 5 of us have been traveling together for about the past 10 days.

It's a really fun dynamic, because we all speak English but very different versions of it. In any sort of debate, I'm always different from Adam & Aaron, and Brodie and Leigh (Australians) tend to switch sides depending on the argument.

Words that we don't agree on: tomatoes, pedifiles, vitamins, herbs, chips/crisps/hot-crisps/french-fries, and the list goes on.

They make fun of me a lot for being American because of how America butchers the English language, terrorizes the rest of the world, and dumbs everything down.

They're favorite example is what they call "Spagetti Balinaise" (spelling it wrong) and what we call "Spagetti with meat sauce." This is the debate that gave them the idea that we just name things after exactly what they are (sidewalk, walkie talkie, etc.). So they would often say, "I´m going to go put on my soles with leather (shoes) and then we can go.! Or something similar.

The sun is up, and I want to find a hostal so I can go to sleep, so I'm going to just write a bit more about my travels. I'll divide it up by location:

Arica to Arequipa
This involves crossing the Chile/Peru border, and our journey there couldn't have been more of a misadventure. Got to the bus station 2 minutes late and spend 15 minutes looking for our bus, until we realized that we weren't taking a bus. We were taking a taxi to Tacao and then a bus from there. So we found a taxi and squeezed all 5 of us AND our giant back packs into a very small taxi. But while we were driving the boot/trunk (another word we can't agree on) kept opening. So the driver had to do something to make it close really well. Which broke it. And we couldn't get our stuff out. So then at the border to go through customs, we had to fold down the back seats to pull out our stuff, but we couldn't get it back in. So for the remainder of the ride we had all 5 of us, plus the driver, plus ALL our stuff with us in the cab. Then we caught a 6 hour 3 hour bus ride. Does that not make sense to you? Trust me, we felt the same way. When we got to Arequipa, the hostal we wanted was full, so the taxi driver brought us to another random one he probably got comission for. Which brings us to the next chapter.

Arequipa

Arequipa can be best described in chart format. . .

Bad Things In Arequipa	Why It Wasn't That Bad
My drink got roofied	It was while we were out, which is always fun, PLUS my friends saw the roofie action happen, so I obviously didn't drink it. And it was a fun night, so worth losing the 9 soles ($3) on a drink
My bed could more accurately be described as a torture device	I got to share a room with Adam & Aaron, and I love sharing rooms. So it was worth it. Plus it I positioned myself at just the right position, it was only mildly horrible.
Aaron almost died	That's a complete overstatement, and it was while we were white water rafting, so it was totally worth it. I did accidently push him out once, which I fel bad about. But I pulled him in twice, so I feel like I came out on the up side.
The showers were freezing and the toilets worked only when they felt like it	. . . Conversation piece?
$100 USD got stollen from my bag	It was in the same pocket as my passport, and THAT was still there. Thank goodness.
Hostal owner was a creeper prone to offering masages and very overly touchy feely. With just me. Who later facebooked me (for the record, I didn't give him my facebook AND I scribbled out my name from the registration book) telling me he loved me.	I got to get closer with Aaron, Adam, Brodie, and Leigh because we made a rule that I couldn't go anywhere alone. Plus I got an ugly necklace that I was later able to give away to a little girl who loved it.

(me and adam)

Arequipa to Puno
bus

Puno & Lake Titicaca
Puno is a city on the edge of Lake Titicaca, which is a huge island on the border of Peru and Bolivia. We spent some time in Puno, then went out onto the lake to visit the floating islands (man-made islands constructed out of boyant reeds that whole communities actually live on) then we came home and went to sleep early. The next morning, we woke up at the crack of dawn and boarded a boat to bring us to an island in the middle of the lake. By middle, I mean 4ish hour boat ride. And by large, I mean a huge mountain. Let me quickly mention that at this altitude (3,800m), getting onto my top bunk got me out of breath. And now we were climbing a HUGE mountain WITH our packs. I thought I might die. But I loved it. Even when I was slightly worried that my lungs might explode, I wouldn't have traided the experience for anything. It was awesome and beautiful and gave me a real sense of accomplishment.

So we stayed there for 2 days. I, like an idiot, decided to climb to the top of the mountain and almsot died again. But the view was sooooo worth it. I could see the mountains in Bolivia and the coast of Peru. . . it was really beautiful. Plua, again, I got that sense of accomplishment.

So we boated back yesterday afternoon.

Puno to Cuzco
After making sure that the four of them had tickets for Bolivia (I'm the only one that speaks spanish), I bought my ticket for Cuzco. I wasn't on the bus for more than 30 seconds before it exited the parking lot. How often do busses leave EARLY? Anyways, since it was an overnight bus and I was saving money on accomidations, I splurged and went for a VIP seat that is bigger and leans back farther. Splurging here meaning $10 USD instead of $7 USD. What I wasn't prepared for, though, was how COLD it was. I'm used to having people packed together like sardines, and that creates a lot of body heat. But here I had a lot of space. So I froze for about an hour. . . and then we pulled into a bus terminal. I ran (literally) off the bus and over to the storage compartment, asking a guy if I could get something out of my bag. I pulled out a LOT of clothes. When I was done, I had a pile almost as big as my bag. I must have looked rather silly. Back on the bus, after I had put everything on, I was wearing 5 socks (not 5 pairs, actually 5), leg warmers, 2 pairs of pants, tank top, long sleve shirt, t-shirt, sweatshirt, llama sweatshirt (the last two items with the hoods on), scarf, gloves, a jacket over my legs, and a sweater over the rest of my body. I slept excellently.

Okay, my fingers are tired, the sun is out, and I want to take a nap.

Love you all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Things That You Should Know

About Bolivia Visas
If you are from Australia, they're free
If you are from England, they're free
If you are from New Zeland, they're free
If you are from anywhere in South America, they're free
If you are from a European country, they're free
If you are from the United States, they're $200
. . . God bless America.

About Bolivia
There are massive road blockades, strikes, and bus dynamiting right now.

About Me
I've decided not to go to Bolivia.

About All You Can Eat Breakfasts
If you are a 19/20 something year old boy,
And you are there at the all you can eat breakfast,
And you eat consistently from when it opens at 8 to when it closes at 11,
And you do this everyday that you stay at the hostal,
And you take from the food that they put as far away from you as possible,
You can expect dirty looks and eventually to be cut off.

About Aaron & Adam
They learned this first hand.

That's it for now. Onto Peru!!

LOTS OF LOVE!!!

Strange Day

Can I tell you briefly about my day?

Okay, cool. Thanks.

So this morning I woke up and there was a delicious breakfast of bread and fruit waiting for me (I love this hostal).

Then I started talking with the boys from England. They were planning on going to the beach and asked if I wanted to join. I said yes. We were going to try to find a place to go surfing, which sounded like fun. Especially since they were at about the same skill level as me, and that's rare to find.

Anyways, we walked for a long time looking for a place to surf with the intention of going back to the hostal, grabbing gear, and returning. But nothing turned up. So instead we decided to go visit the church that was designed by the same guy as did the Eifel tower. It was unimpressive.

BUT there were hoards of people doing ZUMBA in the plaza, so we joined them for a bit. Well, Adam and I did. Aaron hung behind, and when we returned to him, he was surrounded by a fan club of 12 year old girls.

We kept walking, found a fish market and looked around (Adam likes fish markets), bought an octopus, and started going home.

BUT on the way home, we got abducted by school children and brought to their school. We were celeberties. They took pictures, gave us gifts, asked for our autographs/e-mails/facebooks, and asked if we knew Justin Bieber.

We said that Adam was friends with him.

When they finally let us go, we came home to our hostal, got in bathing suits, grabbed a board and headed to the beach.

Messed around on the beach a bit, came home, showered, went to the market for veggies, cooked and ate the octopus, and tried to go to salsa. It wasn't opened.

The end.

Weird.

Today I finished a 26 hour bus ride. It actually wasn't that bad, and I got to see a lot of the country. Plus I sat by a baby. That makes everything better.

Before I left, I went to the supermarket to get some food. I was planning on copying my dad's backpacking skills and getting peanut butter and bread. The peanut butter was in the foreign foods section.

Can I say really quickly that I think Chileans are missing out on a great opportunity. They have great peanuts. And they have great bread. . . You would think SOMEONE would have put it together by now. But no.

Anyways, the only peanut butter they had was Planters. It's like Skippy. 1 part peanuts, 2 parts sugar. Personally, I think that's gross. So I opted for the Nutella. If I'm going to have sugar, I REALLY want to have sugar. PLUS it had more protein (which was my goal) and less calories than the fake-ish peanut butter.

So I bought a huge bag of carrots (full size, giant, Chilean carrots), a loaf a bread larger than my head, and a jar of nutella. Life is good.

So I made it here in one piece, which is nice. We stopped for like 45 minutes at 3am in the middle of nowhere and I thought we might be getting robbed. We weren't. So that was good news.

I am now experiences a very weird hostal situation. I'll demonstrate it for you: "blah blah mate, blah mate mate, bee, mate blah, something else y'know mate, throw another shrimp on the barbie." (Oh my gosh! I just realized that barbie is BBQ!)

Yep, it's me and about 638 Australians and 2 giant Swiss swisters. I think I come up to their elbows.

Oh my gosh, two more just walked in. Australians, that is. Not giant Swiss sisters.

"bee," by the way, is "beer."

Peace!

Update

I've never been an alcoholic or completely wasted, but I imagine the experience would be something like tele-bears (the way we sign up for classes at Cal). If I was an alcoholic, I would walk into the bar thinking, "No biggie, I can handle this" and walk out thinking "What the flying-monkeys just happened?!!" Ya, that's what just happened with my tele-bears. I signed on thinking that it was no biggie, I could sign up for a couple classes and then work on my blog, the whole process taking about 1 hour. False. Hour and 20 minutes later, after knocking 1.486 years off my life, I have no idea what just happened, what classes I'm taking next semester, or how I ended up with every class of mine being from a different department and all basically at the exact same time. And I'm just now starting my blog.

A large part of me wants to get out of this cave of a computer booth and go explore the city, but I have to get everything out of my head before I can fill it with new stuff. Besides, I have told you practically nothing about Easter Island. And also, my pictures are downloading.

So here we go.

Sometimes (often) I mentally narrarate my life as if it were a novel. Because my narrations stay there on repeat unless I get them out, I am now going to write 2 of them for you. Here is the kick off to my Easter Island excursion.

Each twist of the knob pained her. One. Two. Three. She knocked hour after hour from the time when her cheap, plastic clock would ring until it finally stopped at 5:30am. She looked at the small gap between the hour hand and the smaller white hand representing the alarm. I've set alarms for naps longer than this. She had two hours - two precious hours - to sleep. After setting three more alarms on her watch, just to be sure, she turned off the light and lay down in her freezing bed for the last time. And didn't fall asleep. What the heck? Every cell in her body longened for sleep, but her mind kept racing. She decided that this must be a small taste of what it feels like to be a parapalegic. She couldn't move her exhausted body if she wanted to, but her pinball thoughts kept banging around noisily in her head. Finally, like one of the pinballs had struck a rubber band that made the whole game light up, it dawned on her. The answer. The reason she couldn't sleep. Piscola. A short hour ago she had been singing "It's Raining Men" infront of a crowded bar and drinking a piscola. Cola being the key word. Caffeine. Should I even try falling asleep? she thought. But the decision was made for her. Before she could squeeze in another indecision, the alarm was alerting her that 1) she had in fact fallen asleep, and 2) sleep was no longer an option.

She paced back and forth in the 3 feet allotted to her by the seat-belt like barriers, trying not to fall asleep on her feet. As she paced, she assessed the people with whom she would be sharing a flight to the Island. Lonley Planet lied, she thought, remembering that her trusty travel book and suggested she might have the island to herself. Rather, though, she was sharing it with a plane full of people in addition to those already on the Island. From the looks of it, she was one of the few not already collecting a social security check (or who would be if the lived in the States). That's okay. It is what it is.

Okay, those were the narrations stuck in my head. Thank you for letting me get them out. Now let me tell you a little bit about my future home.

I FREAKIN' LOVE EASTER ISLAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don't even know where to start. It's beautiful. Bananas, papays, and coconuts grow everywhere. People say hello to you when you pass them on the street. And you can play with the kids.

Now let me compare that briefly to where I've been living for the past month. Santiago is grey, has no plants, people look at you like you're crazy if you make eye contact, much less smile, and nobody talks to anybody, much less permit a stranger to play with their kids.

As I was flying over to the island, I read a bit through my Lonely Planet book. The first thing that jumped out at me was this:

Population: 4,400

And my first thought was this:

I can win over 4,400 people in 3 days.

Mission accomplished.

The first day I just wandered around the (only) town until I found a park with swings. I'm a sucker for swings, so I sat down and swang (swinged? swung?) for awhile. I could see the kids looking at me with curiosity, so I went over and asked them if I could play with them. We played chase or tag or something like that, but I was always it. Let me tell you, chasing kids around for a long time is very exhausting. Then I started talking with the grandma. She told me that she and the kids were all headed down to the harbor and asked if I wanted to join. I said yes. So we walked down to the harbor and fed the giant turtles and fish that just swim around in the crystal clear water. Then I went and ate an empanada. Then I wandered around some more, saw some amazing statues, and watched a beautiful sunset.

And that was just day one.

Without going through all the details day by day, let me tell you a bit of the high lights.
-Scuba diving. The water is so clear, I could see forever.
-Being invited to the workshop of one of the artists on the island, and then having dinner with his family after.
-Being called "tía" (aunt) by a large portion of the kids on the island.
-Trying to catch a ride into town, finding out that my ride into town is actually going to the exact spot on the opposite side of the island that I was hoping to go, and getting a ride to the way far opposite side of the island. And this ride was in a car that reminded me of the Millennium Falcon in so far as it was probably also held together by gum, spit, and hope. Were it not for the mat on the bottom of the floor, by feet could have touched the ground. And the door was held shut with a huge rubber band.
-Having the whole 15 moai to myself.
-Catching a ride back into town with the service crew.
-Free food.
-Playing chase with kids for hours everyday.
-Painting.
-Selling paintings.
-Exploring.

Seriously, I couldn't have asked for a better experience. I wouldn't mind it being longer, though. But I guess that will get taken care of when I live there.

Yay! So you're all up to date now. I'm now in La Serena, wich is north of Santiago. I really enjoyed my time in Santiago, but I wouldn't say I loved the city. Actually, I was really excited to leave it. I enjoy fresh air and not freezing. So, like I said, I'm in La Serena now, and I'll stay here unitl I get bored and then catch a 23 hour bus ride up to Arica. I need to find some books before then.

Also, my hair is braided.

MUCH LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Favorite Belly Button

I wish that I could write through osmosis, because then I could get everything I want out onto the computer without having to worry about order or making sense or leaving anything out. I'll start with a couple of announcements.

1) This internet session is quickly becoming my most expensiveb purchase (except scuba diving) since I started traveling on my own.
2) So I'm not checking my e-mail. Because then I'll want to respond, and I can't afford that.
3) I figured this was a better way to communicate with the people that care and let them know that I am alive and well (oh so well!!!)
4) I'm just going to write until just before the price of this internet session makes me want to throw up instead of just gag.

So here we go.

Mom, can you do me a favor. Pull out the 2013 calendar (you have that already, right?) and turn to December. On December 25 write "Christmas on Easter Island."

Why? You might be asking. 'Cause I'm moving here.

Seriously.

I mean, you're lucky I'm not just staying.

I've already inquired about jobs and the possiblity of a foreigner living on the island. I can't own land, but that's okay. So for the year after I graduate, I'm moving here. And I'm really freakin' excited.

I'm going to live on the belly button of the world. Called that because it is a tiny dot surrounded by a whole lot of nothing.

Gosh, I don't even know where to start. I absolutely love it here. But the price of this is starting to upset my stomach like a Chilean Tea Cup Ride. So I think you might have to wait until tomorrow.

All my love.

Porque Estoy Triste

Estoy triste. Muy triste. Hoy yo terminé mi clase, y ahora no tengo más escuela. ¿Por qué no yo estoy triste cuando yo termino un capítulo de un libro, pero cuando yo termino un capítulo en mi vida, todavía estoy triste? Yo quiero leer el capítulo otro vez. Cuando leo un libro, tengo muchas ganas leer el capítulo proximo y ver que pasa. Posiblimente es que no me gusta decir despedidia. Pero yo sé que esta es bein. Yo sé que yo voy a tener otras aventuras. Pero me gusta esta avevntura. . . Yo quiero esta por un poco más tiempo. ¿Por favor?

(I'm sad. Very sad. I finished my class today, and now I don't have any more school. Why am I never sad when I finish a chapter in a book but everytime I finish a chapeter in my life I get sad. I want to read the chapted another time. When I read books, I'm excited to get to the next chapter and see what happens. Maybe it's because I don't like to say goodbye. But it's okay. I know that I'll have other adventures. But I like this adventure. . .I want a little more time. Please?)

So, like I said, shool is finished and I'm moving on. Next stop: ISLA PASCUA!! Which I'm definitely not complaining about. Plus I met a guy from Brazil who will be there at the same time and he seems pretty book. (That wasn't a typo.) So that will be fun.

But before I depart, there are a couple more things that I want to talk about that have no unifying theme besides the fact that I want to talk about them.

The first is something I'm gravely concerned about. I was looking through some photo albums with my family here, and all the photos had the natural progression of time and style, I could see the 70s, the 80s, the 90s, and the . . . uhh. . . past ten years (what do you call those?), which means. . . THEY CHOSE TO RETURN TO THE 80s! It's not that they're just 20 years behind and 20 years from now they will be where the rest of the world (overgeneralizing, I know) is today. No, that's not it all all. They chose the 80s. I don't understand. Maybe it's the contamination. It must be affecting their decision making ability.

I mean, I've improved a bit. I've become desensitized to the mullets and rat tails, but I still can't shake the dissappointment I feel when I see a poptentially attractive guy, and it gives me hope for the country, and he turns his head. . . and I see it. Coming off the back of his head it a dreadded rat tail, the thickness of my thumb, trailing down his back. Why would you do that? Or when I see little boys with it, maybe 4 or 5 years old, but the rat tail is already pretty long, you have to know that the parents started that thing early. It's a shame.

Another thing: male nose piercinhgs. I'm not talking about the bull piercing, I'm talking about the girly, side of the nose piercing. I know this is infultrating the US as well, and eventually it will become normal, but for now I am still uneasy about it. "But Lila, that is sexist and hypocritical," you might be saying. This may be so, but until women and men get paid the same amount for the same job, I retain my right to dislike male nose piercings.

I guess this ties into my favorite thing that I've read in all of Santiago. It was at a museum in the description of a very old facemask, and it said (translated):

The red face, disfigured head shape, and cross eyes represented the ideal beauty of the time.

No, I'm not joking. Times change. Beauty ideals change. I guess you just have to go with it.

Something unrealted that I wanted to talk about: my walking. I've always been told I walk slow. I'll feel like I'm walking at a perfectly normal pace, but practically everyone will be flying by me on the street. Wind rushes by my face as little old ladies speed by. (Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but barely). Every morning I had to walk 67 miles from the metro to my school (believe me, it feels that long when it's cold), and during that time, I've discovered something. I don't walk slow, I walk small. (Which, admittedly, results in me walking slowly). While other peoples' steps were always 1.75-2 squares, mine were a consistent 1.5. I attribute it to my short legs. And for that I blame my mom's side of the family. So if you ever complain about me walking slowly, that's discrimination against short legged people. So think twice. (Sorry about all the parentesies in this paragraph. I went a little crazy.)

More unrelated news: I'm incredibly jealous of Matilda. Last night I sat for 10 minutes in my bed, my heater inches away from my face, staring at my verb book across the room trying to make it hover over my direction. Matilda wouldn't have had to get out of the warmish bed into the freezing cold to get the book. I mean, sure, she grew up in a verbally abusive home with a family that didn't love her, went to a school rulled by fear and a tyrant of a principal, and carried adoption papers around with her since she was tall enough to use the xereox. . . but she could move things with here eyes.

I went to a Christmas in July party. It was fun.

Also, I can tango now.

I'm going salsa dancing tonight. So excited!!!

I can't find duct tape anywhere here.

Books are really, really expensive. I feel like that's dumb.

All the cigarettes have pictures of premie babies or babies whose mothers´smoked and now they're hooked up to tubes and stuff. It doesn't stop anyone from smoking.

Can I bring coco leaves back to the US? Probably. . . if they don't know I have them.

What's that disease called when you just start bleeding randomly? Oh wait, I think I'm thinking of that thing when you can't stop bleeding because you're blood doesn't clott. Anyways, I keep bleeding. It's weird. Yesterday I looked down while I was on the metro and my finger was all red and gross. What the heck? Luckily I had a batman band aid.

Okay, I'm freezing and my fingers are purple. I need to put on my gloves, which means I need to stop typing.

Bye. Love you.

Cold

I've decided something: I don't like being cold. I don't mind cold weather, but I d0n't like being cold.

You would think the two go hand in hand - cold weather and being cold - but they don't.

For example, I like sitting by a window and watching it storm outside. I love the feeling of walking from the cold outdoors into a heated house. I like when I have to wear so many layers that it doesn't even matter what the bottom 3 layers are because nobody will ever see them. I love an excuse to wear fuzzy socks, warm scarfs, colorful gloves, and cute hats. I love drinking warm beverages and warming myself from the inside out. I enjoy being able to see my breath. I enjoy the comforting weight of having like 13 layers on my bed. I like the warm food that comes with cold weather - soup, squash, etc. I like cuddling up with other people to get warm.

However, Santiago is a bit different kind of cold. Not only is ''it cold,'' but ''I'm cold.'' Different. And no me gusta.

I don't like worrying that my fingers and toes might fall off. I miss sleeping starfished out on my bed instead of in a cramped ball. I don't enjoy standing in front of a shower running with lukewarm water, fighting myself to undress and get in. Or on the chance that it is a warm shower, the warmth overshadowed by the feeling of a million needles like when you jump into a hot tub after rolling in the snow. I don't enjoy practically sprinting from the bathroom back to my bed after a shower. I miss real heating - whether it be a fireplace (which is illegal here because of pollution) or real house heating (which is ridiculously expensive). Instead, I have a space heater that is the eqivalent of if Easy Bake Ovens made heaters. It's basically a lightbulb that is supposed to heat my room. To compensate, I forgo fire hazards (sorry Kerry) and bring it in bed with me. Setting it up 4 inches from my face so it simultaneously heats my face and my pillow. I don't enjoy being so excited to go to bed because it means blankets, but dreading going to sleep because it means turning off my heat light bulb. I miss not having a snuggle buddy. I don't enjoy the weird weather that is freezing in the morning but warm in the afternoon so I am stuck carrying 14 other layers around with me all day.

I had a dream (notice: not a nightmare) that I wet my pants because a) it would be warm, and b) I didn't want to have to pull them down to go to the bathroom.

So, in short, it's cold. And I'm cold.

I'm not miserable, and the weather is only a VERY small part of the experience, but I wanted to write this as an explanation as to why I'm opting out of traveling to the South. It's supposed to be one of the most beautiful parts of Chile, but for me right now heading anywhere except towards the equator seems like a bad idea. But the weather, combined the with fact that I don't want to carry all the clothes necessary to make it bearable much less enjoyable, combined with the fact that I would have to backtrack BACK from the South in order to continue North, makes it seem unappealing at the moment.

So I am going to save the south for when one or more of the following conditions are true:
a) I have a snuggle buddy
b) It's summer down here
c) I can do an awesome trip where I start in Santiago, go down to the tip of South America, pop over to Antartica, come back, and head back up through Argentina so I don't have to back track
d) I have enough money to afford lodging with sufficient heating
e) I have a cammel, donkey, or llama that can carry all my stuff
f) I magically have enough time and money that makes an expensive 12 hour bus ride that I'll have to repeat to go back worth it
g) I turn into a polar bear

Yep, so that's it. Again, not complaining. I'm still super happy here. Just a little freezing.

Okay, I'm going to stop typing now so I can put my llama gloves back on.

LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

Stanford

Today I saw a guy wearing a Stanford sweatshirt.

I sent up a quick prayer: "Forgive him, God. He knows not what he does."

Halloween Loot de Chile

So you know how when you go trick-or-treating on Halloween, you end up with a pillow case full of loot? There`s the good stuff, the gross stuff, the mandtatory-Halloween-experience stuff, and the other stuff, all thrown together into one big pillow case (or for all you lesser. . . *cough*. . . i mean other trick-or-treaters, a bag or tiny little pumpkin thingy). Well, this is my pillow case full of my Halloween Loot De Chile. Or in other words, my disconcordant thoughts that I am somehow going to relate to Halloween in order to give them some sort of consistent thread.

ALMOND JOY (the "do I really want to tell anyone about you because you're so good and there are so few of you. I'm not sure if I want to share this part of my loot" candy)
Now don't go getting too excited. I'm not about to spill any mushy details from some recent love affair. Especially because the only action I've had down here are my daily kisses and cuddles from Minnie. The dog. But I've very content with Minnie. She's an excellent snuggle buddy.

No, what I wanted to write here is that I don't really know exactly what this blog has become for me, and I feel like that might be something I should figure out. I should figure out how much I want to share on the "world wide web" (as someone over 45 would put it), and how much I should save for e-mails I can control who reads. I think I forget that people actually read this thing. Even people I don't know personally (wierd, but true). But the other part of me is saying, "Lila, nobody wants to read a censored version of your adventures. Where's the fun in that?"

So I guess what I want to say is that I want to formall announce that I'm not writing for anyone. I'm writing for me. For my own personal enjoyment, because I love writing, and to document my travels. And I love that this is a forum that allows you all to travel with me. But, that being said, I'm not going to censor myself or leave out parts out of concern for "my readers." But you should remember that this is me that we're talking about. Now that I've said that I'm "uncensored", it's not like I'm going to start writing about stip clubs or start dropping F-bombs everywhere. This will still probably be a PG blog or at worst PG-13. I just wanted to give you a heads up.

THE TOOTHBRUSH (the "cleaning up the day after" candy. . . that obviuosly isn't really candy)
So back to the whole "Sex on the Beach" fiasco. There have been some friendly accusations that I was asking for the misinterpretation by the way that I formatted that blog. What I was hoping for with that format was that if you glanced at it, you would say, WHAT??, but then if you actually read it in context you would realize that I was obviously talking about the drink. My bad.

CANDY CORN (the "mandatory experience" candy)
So I thought I would take this candy space to talk about some mandatory Chilean experiences. The first is, since we're talking about candies, the Super8. Pronounced "Super Ocho," not "Super Eight." I don't really know what the big deal is about them. I don't think that they're amazing, but apparently they are. They are chocolate covered . . . flakey things. Similar to a kit kat. Do you know those cookies that come in vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry? Maybe not. Well, it's chocolate covered that. Anyways, this is already more time than I wanted to be spending on Super 8s. Moving on.

Another mandatory Chilean (or any foreign country) experience: screwing up your words. So far, I have said that I wanted to ride a gentleman (I meant to say horse), I was from the United Students (meant to say states), asked someone that was almost done with school if he was sexually stimulated (meant to say just normal excited), and somehow insulted the entire female gender (meant to say . . . I actually have no idea what I was trying to say). Live and learn, right?

Mandatory Chilean Experience #3: (side note, I had to press the "Alt" button and the 3 to get that # sign. These computers are so weird). Biting into a salad that you think consists of one vegetable visible vegetable - clerary or onions or lettuce or carrots any other singular vegetable - and finding that the vegetable is not alone. No, it is accompanied by enough lemon juice, vinegar, and salt to make. . . smomething do something. I can't really think of anything right now. Sorry.

APPLE (the "real food that isn't candy that you're a little bit unsure about because there could be blades in it or whatevwer - do people really do that? - but you know that it has the potential to be the best thing in your bag of loot, so you're very tempted to eat it anyways" candy)
Awhie ago in a random conversation about food, I mentioned that I thought the whole "just bread and water" thing in jail wouldn't really be so bad. After a lot of thought, and a lot of bread, I've come to the not-very-surprising conlusion that I was right. (Ha! Bet you weren't expecting that one). Here in Chile, they have two food grops: bread, and things you put on bread. I have bread for desayuno (breakfast) and once (dinner). And when I say that, I don't mean bread on the side with veggies and meat as the main course. Nope. Bread is the main course. You can varry it with different toppings - palta (avocado), queso, jamon (ham), jam, etc. But the bulk of your meal is bread. We're on our own for lunch, and I usually end up buying some sort of bread and something to put on it. It's generally the cheapest option. Also, sandwiches come with 3 layers of bread. Bread, lots of maynaise and maybe some other stuff, bread, more maynaise and again the potential for other stuff, and another piece of bread.

SNICKERS(the "good stuff" candy)
Last night I met up with a guy that I met through CS and his friend and we went dancing. It was SO MUCH FUN. We were a bit of a motley crew, you might say. One of us a gringa with short blonde hair and bad spanish, another a small blast of color (orange pants, purple shirt, turquoise sweatshirt, checkered colored jacket) in a black and white city, and the third a tall, bright t-shirt wearing, mullet-sporter. I stayed consisted with my theme song, and "the pary don't start 'till I come in." Or. . . didn't start, I should say. But since when does modern music care about grammar. Anyways, I had a blast. We got there maybe 1ish and danced to a little after 4. The boys were great. They were the type of people that if I hadn't have come with them, I would have wished that I had. You know how in high school (or junior high, or at clubs, or wherever there is music and dancing, for that matter) the whole large group of people dancing who are so preoccupied with looking cool or hot or sexy or not like and idiot that they forget to have fun? And then there are the people that are having a blast, way more fun than the rest of the room combined, and eveyone wishes they had the confidence to dance like (that last part may be an overstatement, but I'm keeping it). Guess which group we were. Needless to say, I had a really, really fun time. I freakin' love dancing.

NERDS (the "self explanitory" candy)
I'm realliny enjoying school! There are two other kids in my class, and my teacher is awesome. Yep. That's it.

POP ROCKS (The "I Love The'80s" Candy)
I tried to resist. I thought I was stronger than this. I don't know what's happening. But today I found myself thinking: You know what, maybe fanny packs aren't such a bad idea. They're actually a rather convenient, safe, and functional way to carry all your stuff. I was (. . .am) tempted to buy some leg warmers. What's happening to me??

RANDOM CANDY AT THE BOTTOM OF YOUR BAG THAT YOU'RE NOT REALLY SURE IF YOU SHOULD EAT OR NOT (the "what the heck is this?" candy)
-This computer lab smells like fish
-Santiago is really big. Rather LA like. Except with good public transportation.
-You can't turn right on red.
-Woke up at 11 this morning. It was excellent.
-I'm going to look for more places to go dancing before 2am. But they're few and far between.
-I had a shortage of pants so I bought some I found at a used clothing store. They fit in the dressing room, but are now about 32 sizes too large. Do all courdory pants stretch out that quickly? Or is this pair just special? And by special, I definitely mean short bus special. Not shooting star special.
-The only acceptable color here is purple.
-Miss you. Love you.

Nostalgic Sleeping

When I was younger, I had a canopy bed. My parents made it for me for my birthday in response to my life-long dream of having one and attempts to make one for myself by tacking sheets to the cieling. I loved that thing. Sometimes (okay, often) I would dress up in a nightie and pretend I was a princess getting into her princess bed. I would close the curtains and go to sleep, in my head, as a princess. The last thing I would see before falling into a pleasant, dreamy sleep would be the faint line of the moonlight between the two curtains that faced my window. Only the ribbons of moonlight were ever able to penetrate my princess walls. I slept as a princess.

Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night. I don't know why. Maybe because I was sick, maybe because I got tangled in my blankets (I have so many!!), maybe I was cold. . . I don't really know. But I was awake, and it was the middle of the night. My bed here is up against a wall with a window that reaches from just below the top of my bed almost to the cieling. It is covered by two curtains, one from each side. There is a small gap between them. Through this space passed the lights of the city, the harshness filtered out by the smog. This thin line of man-made glow was what I woke up to last night, and for the first time in a long time, I went to sleep as a princess.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Today I was sick. Today I was on a bus. Today I comendeered the whole back row of a bus. Today I slept on a bus.

I laid down before the bus even started; my eyes were already closed when the engine fired up. My seats (5 of them, to be exact) immediately started to vibrate when the driver turned the key. The fait humm of the engine purred in my ear, whispering of adventures to come. I was transported. What would the next port be like? How much time did I have to nap before Kellie came back and started talking? I wonder what kind of pasta and potatoes we'll have for dinner? Will there be apples? Is my computer on the floor? I don't want it to get knocked down when the waves come. . .

. . . oh wait.

Today I slept on a bus.

But for a moment - a long moment, acutally (I was rather out of it) - I was back on the boat.

IMPORTANT CLARIFICATION NEEDED!!!!

Hey, so due to some very confused (and worried and shocked) e-mails, I realized that I needed to add a clarification.

Sex on the Beach IS A DRINK. I wish I could make that bigger, but I don't know how.

So don't worry. My flower is still in tact. Or hasn't been picked. My ship hasn't sailed. I still have my V-Card. Or however you want to put it.

No need to freak out.

It tastes like orange juice.

Here's a picture.

¿Quieres ir al Argentina mañana?

For those of you who don't speak fluent spanglish like I do, the title says, "Do you weant to go to Argentina tomorrow?"

A question to which I said yes.

It was on Thursday that the question was asked, so on Friday right after class (class being a trip to a museum), I boarded a bus with 5 other kids and we took off for Argentina.

Oh. My. Gosh.

Just in case you aren't familiar with South American geography (which many aren't), Chile and Argentina are seperated by the Andes mountains, over which we drove. Beautiful. These were the first mountain-mountains that I've seen. America has mountains, but these were mountains. Breathtaking.

They looked just like mountains are supposed to look. Huge, grand, majestic, snowy. The trip was worth it just for the drive. As an extra bonus, though, I got to enjoy Argentina.

We went to Mendoza, which is a city in Western Argentina. The first night we just hung out and explored a bit, but we were all pretty tired from the trip and crashed in our 6 person room pretty early. I love sharing a room. I think that's something I'm missing right now, so sharing a room again (especially with 5 other people) was awesome.

The next morning we rose early to go track down Argentinian jerseys before the game. This was absolutely necessary because I (and another one of my travel companions) look German. Probably because I am German. But I had to get something to show my allegience. Screw heritage.

So after buying jerseys, we watched the game at a cool little bar/resturant thingy. We ordered a "missle," which is a HUGE thing of beer shaped like a missle with a tap at the bottom. It was pretty cool looking. I tried a bit, but I don't think beer is for me.

(sorry, I'm going to start rushing now. No more details. I have to leave soon for my DANCE CLASS. Life is good.)

Then we went to a supermarket, bought food, and made it in our hostel.

Then we went wine tasting and I discovered that a) I'm a whimp about alcohol and b) I'm not a wine person.

A was discovered because every time they gave us a taste of wine, they filled up our glass about 1/4 of the way. And out of 4 tries, I didn't finish a single taste. Wait, that's not true. I think I finished the last one.

B was discovered because I didn't really like it. Pretty simple.

Then we were all exhaousted, so we went back to the hostel and went to sleep.

Again, fun sleeping in the same room.

We woke up around 9:00pm and got ready for dinner (that's normal down here).

We went to an AMAZING all you can eat buffet. I had three plates full of food and 2 plates of dessert and didn't finish a single one of them. Wasteful, I know. But there was so much that I wanted to try! Really, they had EVERYTHING. From dead pigs hanging by their feet (sorry vegetarians) to vegetairian sushi. And octopus legs. Weird.

After that, we went out on the town. We ended up at a little bar where I had my first drink all to myself. Up until then, I've tried bits of other people's, but that day I ordered one for me.

Sex on the beach.

So good.

It took me a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG time to finish it. I nursed that one drink for a good 4-5 hours. It made me laugh. Made my friends laugh too. I have such great friends here. They totallyt accept me for my non-alcohol-y-ness. They're actually quite amused by it, as am I. It was fun to try something new.

When we left the bar, we went to a playground and played for a bit. Stupid america gets rid of all the fun playground equiptment, but luckily they are alive and well in Argentina.

We got home around 4am and went to sleep. Woke up early the next morning to get back on the bus.

Another beautiful bus ride. But I slept for most of it.

Cool things about Argentina (and Mendoza in particular):
-the "cute" country colors
-cheap
-beautiful parks
-really cool wineries (even though i may not be a fan of the wine)
-nice people
-death sidewalks (Some people might put this in a "cons" part, but I thought it was quite amusing. There were trenches on the steet side of sidewalks that were a good 3-4 feet deep. You could easily fall in, especially since the rest of the sidewalk is broken and uneven, just begging you to trip).
-fresh air


A couple more things before I go:
1) I am definitley the daughter of my parents. In my spanish class, we were learning about different rooms and furniture and all that good stuff in español, and in our text book there were a couple plans for house layouts. They were horrible. I was so distraced trying to remodel the houses in my head that I barely learned anything we were supposed to be learning.
2) You can't tell the difference between where the clouds end and the smog begines here. I tell myself that it's all clouds. That fog is what fills the basin that is Santiago. But my inability to take a deep, clean breath and the dryness of my eyes tell me differently. But I'm going to stay in denial for a bit more. Besides, it's raining now, so tomorrow (or whever it stops raining) will be "fog" free.

That's it for now. I've got to run to my dance class. It starts in 24 minutes, I have to take the train and then walk a bit, AND I'm starving.

Chiao!

P.S. Stuart, I have no idea what happened with skype. Lame. Let's keep trying though, okay?

Don´t Worry! I Found It!!

I know you were all desperately worried.
Something has been missing from our lives for the past 20 years.
Sure, you catch glimpes of it here an there¨- a flash of neon, an awkward haircut - but overall, the beast has been aloof.

But don´t worry.

I found it.

I found the ´80s.

Yep! All of it! Including (drum roll please. . .) MULLETS. I know I mentioned that earlier, but I just can´t get over it. Probably 1/3 of the boys are sporting the mullet. And seriously. Not like when Logan Smith did it as a joke.

But if ever you´re feeling nostalgic for the 80s, just jump on a plane to Santiago and you will be transported to a time when mullets and leg warmer were cool and no one knew smoking was bad for you.

But don´t look for neon colors. Everything is black.

Now, to help you on your trip, I have:

RULES FOR RIDING THE METRO
1. Keep your bag where you can see it
2. Hold on to it
3. Look tired like you just ran a marathon
4. Under no conditions should you raise you gaze about elbow height, or shoulder height if you´re feeling daring
5. Unless you´re staring at the foreigner, in which case, anything goes
6. Don´t litter
7. Don´t talk, or if you must (and only to people you already have a pre-established relationship with) talk quietly
8. Don´t lose your Bip! card

Yep, that´s it.

You´re good to go.

I Freakin´ Love Chile

(Here are some pictures from the trip to the North, which, I realized, I never talked about. Sorry about that. Summary: it was awesome.)

The only part of Chile I´m NOT loving are the sucky keyboards. But besides that, it´s AMAZING.

Here are some things you should know about Chile:
-People are friendly once you`re introduced, but before that. . . they`re not. It`s not that they are NOT friendly, they just won`t smile if you smile or say hello if you say hello
-Everyone smokes. Everyone.
-You greet people with a kiss on the cheek.
-Bread.

I had a lot more that I wanted to write, but I´m forgetting it know. Know that I´m having fun and I´ve made lots of new friends and I love the people here and I`m so incredibly happy.

But I hate these key boards.

I`ll put an address up soon! Bye! XOXOXO

CHILE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the longest day ever - in a good way

(tried to post this last night. . . take 2)

¡Hola familia! ¡Estoy en Chile! ¡Y me encanto!

Just kidding. Well, all of that is true, but I wouldn´t do that to you. Write in spanish, I mean. Maybe later, when I know more. But not now.

I'm semi-regretting not bringing my lab top. All the keys are different here. It's weird. . .

ANYWAYS, I want to tell you about my never ending day. How is it still going? I feel like I've been here for weeks already. Did I really wake up in my bed yesterday? Is that even possible?

It started yesterday. I left yesterday morning and was dropped off on my parent's way to move Kerry into his new appartment. Then I went to the airport, got some food that was way too expensive, and got on the plane. Then I got off the plane because there was a major storm in Miami where I was headed for my layover. After waiting for an hour (and talking to Stuart!), I got back on the plane and I sat in the very back row. Well, second to back. There weren't even any windows back there, which is a shame because I wanted to see the blob. But I can see it on my way home. Anyways, I was in the back of the plane (Despite asking one of the people in first class if he wanted to switch. How could he have passed up an offer like that?) sitting next to a very nice man who had a friend playing in the world open. . . that's basketball, right? So we got into florida eventually, then had a very pleasant conversation with the one and only David Melendy (congrats on graduating!) got on the next plane to SANTIAGO. The plane left a little after midnight. My plan was to sleep the whole time. That didn't work. Woops. I slept in couple hour chunks. I woke up in time to see the sun rise looking over outside of the other side of the plane. We flew over snow covered mountains. It was beautiful.

As we were landing, that's when it finally hit that I was going to Chile. Ha. A little late, huh? It was so. . . beautiful. I don't think I've ever seen anything like it before. I remember one time when we were in Yosemitie, my uncle Greg said, "There may be different kinds of pretty, but I don't think it gets much more beautiful than this." I completely agree. Think of the most beautiful landscape you've ever seen. Maybe it's Yosemitie, maybe it's the Sahara at sunrise, whatever it is, translate it onto a beautiful mountain landscape and that's what you can picture when I landed. And when my family was driving me around, but more about that later.

A bus picked us up from the airport, and I met some of the other USAC kids. They all seem pretty awesome. I think I'm the youngest. And the most inexperienced at Spanish. But I'll learn.

We went to the school to meet our family. Oh. My. Gosh. The school is beautiful!!!! Amazing. I absolutely love it. I am so excited to spend time here. . . I don't know if I'll want to come back. Don't worry, I'm just kidding. . . kind of.

So I met my mama & papa at the beautiful school and then we drove to the supermarket. They're so cute! They call each other "mi amor." I love it. My mama wanted to make sure that I was all set up, so she helped me buy toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, and other essentials. She's a little spit fire of a woman. She knows someone wherever we go and she's all about finding the best deal. She's so sweet. And Papa is such a sweetheart. He's jolly. He doesn't speak a word of english (mama does), but we get along.

We got home and had breakfast (it was almost noon) with the rest of the family. Maitas, Connie, and Sebastian. They're really great. And they're tolerant of my lack of spanish. Right after breakfast, the mom said, "Now, we cook lunch." Haha. Seriously!

But us kids played Uno. And then poker. They didn't really know how the rules and looked to me to explain them. And - somehow! - I did it! Granted, they did know the basics, so that helped. It was really fun.

Then it was lunch.

Every meal is an event. The table is set, the table cloth is laid out, the whole family is there. It's pretty cool! After lunch, mama and I took the dog for a walk. Then she reprimanded (jokingly) me about my weather inappropriate clothes. They all think it's freezing here, but it's not. It's similar to a santa cruz morning, but they're bundled up in a million layers and scarfs and hats and boots. But I did need a couple things, so I let her take me shopping and show me where to get the best deals (I paid).

Then we got home and. . . DINNER.

Dinner was exactly the same as breakfast: bread with your choice of at least 3 of the following: cheese, ham, differnt ham, butter, jam, differnt jam, weird maynoise stuff. It's good!

So that's it so far. My family is great. Santiago is absolutely beautiful. The food is good. I'm freakin' exhausted. And I am starting to get the hang of this computer.

I think I'm going to go to sleep soon. Haha. I'm adjusting to the time change quickly.

I love you all! I'll be away from a computer for awhile, but know that I'm doing AWESOME and I love you all so much. I'd love to hear from you.

lilac2(at)berkeley.edu this computer is weird and I can't do at signs.

LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

haha. My family just asked me if I was writing to my boyfriend. I guess that's the sign for me to get off. Bye!!

Free Stuff

Do you know what's cool?
Free stuff.
Do you know what's better?
Free stuff that doesn't suck.
Do you know what's best?
Free stuff that's AWESOME!


That's why I'm entering to win something from www.yellowsongbird.blogspot.com
Their stuff is really cute. If you're a girl, I suggest you check it out. And maybe even enter yourself!!

Happy shopping.






i hope i win a sweet rosette headband from the @ohsweetjoy giveaway at www.yellowsongbird.blogspot.com!