Choices

Lately I have been deeply troubled by the choices that have led me on the path I am currently pursuing. The able nomad in me thought a move to D.C. after months of traveling and years of moving around would come in stride. I thought wrong. The adjustment to DC has been wrought with setbacks, confusion, disillusion and a strong dose of apprehension. Never one to settle anywhere long, I found an unbelievably warm, comforting and peaceful habitat in the Boulder bubble. I left with tears in my eyes but hope in my head for a future in our nation's capital pursuing the law degree at a top 5 International law program. What I have found is an amazing city full of intelligent people, beautiful architecture, a school that works me like a dog but leaves me more legally minded every day and an apartment that I love. What I have left behind is what concerns me; in my mind's eye I see a place full of natural wonder, people who knew me as well as I knew myself, my soul mate and to an extent, my identity. Days at the library, highlighters drawing on me in my sleep, an empty bed and a general feeling of displacement have dominated the menu of my life recently. I am beginning to realize the choices I make are often the type that "sound good on paper". The rationale thinker in me wants to say I'm on the right path, but my heart feels like I fell down the wrong rabbit hole. If I chose this life, why does it feel like I'm an actor in someone else's script?

A New Chapter

Looking back on the past year, from graduation to traveling across the world, to my life in Boulder, to Cape Cod and to my move to DC, I feel a sense of accomplishment and a sadness for what I call the "Endless Summer", is truly ending. The freedom I have experienced in the past year has opened my eyes to new possibilities for my future, the people I have met have inspired and changed me and the dreams I have fulfilled leave me delighted. After such a year it is difficult to return to the society I have been living on the fringes of, or outside of for that matter. Broke, but happy, I experienced life with enhanced senses, enlightening myself and experiencing everything. Now I have a lease, possessions, am enrolled in law school and my Benjamin is in Ithaca seven hours away starting his own new reality. Tomorrow I begin law school, quite possibly the most intellectually challenging and intimidating adventure yet. I am pursuing a JD/MA in International Service and I am accompanied by some of the brightest people around. I look forward to the challenge but I would be lying if I said I wasn't terrified, too. So wish me luck, keep the Legally Blond jokes to a minimum, and here it goes!

Rainy last days in Bogota

By the time we reached Bogota, our trip was winding down and the reality of life after South America was setting in. The beaches of the Caribbean left me feeling warm and glowing and it was with a reluctant sigh that I boarded the 23 hour non semi-cama bus to Bogota. Passing through lush green rolling hills, tiny villages selling fried everything and arriving in cold, rainy Bogota left me feeling a bit alienated. Curled up in an unfamiliar place with memories of Australian friends, white sand beaches and the last camping of our trip, the first night was a little rough. The next day I warmed my bones with some dark coffee and wandered the streets, impressed with the bohemian murals and political messages. The overwhelming vibrancy of the art made me see Bogota with fresh eyes despite the constant drizzle. The art scene, evolving from a tattered and complex political history evoked memories of Berlin. Both places are still evolving, moving forward from the unrest to a brighter, smarter and more beautiful future. Broke, caffeinated, and in love in Bogota. Not a bad way to finish an epic journey through South America.

Colombian Paradise

Northern Colombia was simply magical. The magenta bougainvillea tumbling down burnt orange stained Spanish Colonial buildings on cobbled streets of old Cartegena gave way to day dreams of Gabriel Garcia Marquez as a young student following the revolts of Bogota's past. At night the city came alive with rum soaked salsa dancing till the early hours of the morning. The generations of Colombians sitting and talking in poetic Spanish rhythms made me realize I was experiencing something unique, historical even. After years of civil and political unrest, Colombia is safe enough for gringo backpackers to dance salsa and lay beachside, wander into the Amazon (But not too far in..), and converse with locals about what it means to be a Colombian in 2010. The sky seemed bluer, the ocean clearer, the sand whiter and the people more beautiful in Colombia. Our adventures to an island where we slept in our tent on the beach eating fried fish and plantains, slicing mangos with a pocket knife and swimming amongst the starfish will keep me daydreaming for months, even years to come.

The Land of the Wild

A hotbed of unruliness, misguided passions, disobedience, and overall debauchery, one might call Iquitos the Vegas of the Amazon. Unreachable by road, this Amazonian city in the depths of Peru was a whirlwind of uncharted territory, absurd interactions and rogue lifestyles. The Belen market with its Amazonian pharmacy, black market animal sellers, strange fruits, piranhas, and endless bananas was a veritable orgy for the senses. The streets are filled with mototaxis, swindlers, sellers of impossible dreams and wayward French ex-pats and characters of all types. Fish scales float down the street of the market, while giant cargo boats swing travelers in hammocks to Brazil and Colombia. The thick air of the Amazon lingers into the night as friends from the Amazon beckon you to drink cane juice. Indigenous women spread tapestries with Ayahuasca visions on the banks of the Amazon River littered with Coca Cola bottles. A strangely addicting place full of temptation.

Los Amazonia

Working on a farm in the Amazon was one of the most outrageous and gratifying aspects of my trip. While the endless mosquito bites, banana themed diet and bathing in a river of neon spiders left me a bit out of my element, the stars above my head at night, the life force of the plants and animals and the synergy of the environment left me craving more.

Paradise on the Pan-American Highway

Please forgive my lack of blogging! As our trip began to wind down so did our bank accounts and Internet became strictly utilitarian much to my Blog's chagrin. However, I am back and able to recount some of the amazing experiences we had in the last month of our trip. In Chiclayo we found ourselves in a pickle as we searched every bus company in town for a way to get to Tarapoto where we would then get to Yurimaguas and take a boat along the Amazon River into Iquitos. After many warnings of , "Es muy peligroso," and not much else, a kind old man showed me a newspaper in which the road we were attempting to take had been destroyed by a 6.4 magnitude earthquake the night before. Stranded in hot and steamy Chiclayo inland from the beach with the most machismo, cat calling locals everywhere was not the best option for waiting around for road repair and I began to feel melancholy. After brainstorming in our ridiculous hostel room, Zach, Ben and I decided to head up to Mancora while we altered our plans.

Mancora turned out to be beyond a highlight in our journey and the best detour I have ever taken. As our bus ambled up the coast amongst giant dunes of ancient sand, we began to smell the fresh ocean air and my anxiety was quelled. We turned a corner and the ocean spread out before my eyes like a giant oasis of life and tranquility. We hopped in a moto taxi, the mode of choice for travel in Northern Peru and found a little spot full of Indonesian style palm thatched bungalows and hammocks everywhere outside. After throwing my pack down, I promptly headed out to the beach where a thick fog made the distant fishing boats look as vague as an oil painting. The next day was gorgeous and we played in the frothy Pacific ocean water for hours letting our concerns about reaching the Amazon drift out to sea. Nights were full of debauchery with thumping music at sandy beach bars, followed by impromptu bonfires with interesting Peruvian locals. At Green Eggs and Ham, our favorite spot to eat owned by a Southern couple from the states we would enjoy tall stacks of fluffy pancakes and fresh jugo de pina with a touch of peach. Days of surfing, sun bathing, and frolicking faded into dinners of fresh tuna in terriyaki sauce, cold beers and late nights. Despite its location on the Pan-American highway, the duality was more interesting than conflicting as buses zoomed by on their way to Ecuador and trucks rushed by unaware of the paradise on the other side of the road. Tanned and tranquil we reluctantly hopped on a bus to Lima in order to make our way to the elusive Amazonia.