yourself in it

Lea Huy and farewell...

2010-04-24T02:36:00.000-07:00

I have spent five weeks in Sihanoukville; the longest I have spent in one place during all of my travels. It has been a relief to unpack, find comfort in a regular bed, rest in a room that I can decorate with the children's paintings, and occasionally prepare my own meals; an act that feeds my soul. I have immensely enjoyed settling into the town, getting to know locals as friends, and becoming familiar with the daily rhythm of this place.

My last week was spent celebrating the Khmer New Year, a time where everyone travels to their hometown provinces to congregate with family and friends amongst chaotic festivities of play, games, and the notorious baby powder and water balloon (or bucket) fights. CCPP closed for the week after a fantastic celebration with the kids, filled with dancing, screaming, laughter, wetness, powder covering you, and an unbelievable mess at the end. It was definitely an eventful way to say goodbye.

Before some of the volunteers ventured on little excursions for the week, we all piled into a boat and headed to Bamboo Island for the clear turquoise water, wooden bungalows, and phosphorescence. At midnight we glided into the warm sea, like mermaids, and swam with the thousand gleaming lights under a reflecting sky of stars. It was so heavenly.....

After days of relaxing, we decided to be proactive and take advantage of your location by going fishing. I have always wanted to catch my own dinner and had unrealistic hopes that someone would catch a barracuda. After hours of fishing off reefs with our Cambodian style gear, we caught three small silvery fish. They were not necessarily dinner worthy but our pride far out sized our catch!

A few dips in the sea sent us on our return towards land but shortly after we set off the sea started boiling with waves, knocking us around, and the ominous purple clouds told us the ride would not be relaxing. In the distance we could see that we were entering a sheet of rain, loud thunder, and numerous bolts of lightening, none of which you appreciate when your on a small wooden boat in the ocean. Frightening to say the least but we made it back to shore and the sand never felt so good!

We spent the night feasting, drinking, and dancing and by the end of the night (or should I say early morning) I was once again dripping wet and covered in powder, celebrating the New Year and my farewell....

easy on the camera....

2010-04-21T18:30:00.000-07:00

Sok Dara being saucy.....the boys acting tough at lunch (shortly after the photo was taken they broke out in dance)....beautiful sisters....Srey Lak and her masterpiece

Siha

2010-04-21T03:51:00.000-07:00

I have had multiple dreams about adopting Siha. He is a beautiful 6 year old boy who regularly comes to CCPP. Without a common language, it is inevitably hard to communicate but even with this obstacle, Siha and I have an obvious connection. He finds me everyday to say hello and hold my hand, he eagerly shows me his paintings, and requests that we play and swim together. He lives with his family under a tarp in an open field. The walls are made of stacked bricks and the open structure provides little shelter during the rainy seasons afternoon downpours.

My dreams have been so fiercely vivid, that I wake up feeling prepared to change my life and bring him home with me. However, the reality is that he has a home and adoring family who love him. My selfish heart could hardly provide him with the same love he already receives. One of the many things I have learned while working with disadvantaged children is that they are incredibly loyal to their families, no matter what their circumstances are. Siha will just remain one of my amazing experiences working with Cambodian children.....and my biological adoption clock will just have to keep on ticking....

cambodia's breakdancing stars....

2010-04-14T03:40:00.000-07:00

Cambidian Children's Painting Project

2010-04-14T03:26:00.000-07:00

Srey Put and her hula hoop....busy drawing at the temple....focused painters....Chando's almost finished painting of Buddha....playfulness

Life in Sihanoukville...

2010-04-14T02:45:00.000-07:00

monks at the temple...serendipity beach...one of many sunsets...a night out with the ladies...a lovely trip away to bamboo island....

2010-04-02T08:15:00.000-07:00

three showers kind of day

2010-04-02T06:49:00.000-07:00

Sihanoukville is an averaged size town on the coast of Cambodia, four hours from the capital. Most know it as the town of the endless beach party where foreigners and city dwellers come to drink and swim. When you first arrive to the central part of town it bustles with tuk tuks, motos, vans packed with people and random items, noises in every direction, bombarding offers for a ride, and smells that either entice you or make you gag. It is hot and dry, dust rises from the ground and settles on your feet permanently. South of town caters to the westerners; guesthouses, bars, massages, Internet, moto rentals, and Serendipity beach which has lost any amount of quaintness due to the over development of bars and restaurants. At night it glistens with lanterns, candles, twinkle lights, fire dancers, cheap cocktails and beer, and incredibly tasty barbecued seafood. If you walk far enough, you can find a quiet spot under a tree for a good sunbathe, a few chapters in a book, and a warm swim. If you can accept the heat, Otres beach is a 1km walk east and is the quietest of the five beaches in Sihanoukville.

Cambodia is full of contradictions and Sihanoukville is a great place to observe them. Cambodia is in the beginning stages of rebuilding a country completely devastated by one of the worst genocides in recent history. The country struggles with a very weak infrastructure, farm land still loaded with landmines, only a third of the population with access to clean drinking water, and an almost non-existent presence of people over the age of 50, all of which make Cambodia one of the poorest countries in Asia. It is customary for every traveler to witness the unbelievable challenge of being poor in a country that maintains the status of the "have" and "have not's". It is easy to see this in Sihanoukville because it is a tourist destination; there are the hotels that cost $200 dollars a night with shacks behind them that house a family of 13, there are the 'felangs' on the beach who spend $10 dollars a night on booze which would feed a family for a month, but can't be bothered by the beggars on the beach, and there is the obvious proof of who has money by how large your belly is (at least that is what one local pointed out to me).

I was not particularly impressed with the town when I arrived but my purpose here has given be a sense of home. I came to Sihanoukville to volunteer for the Cambodian Children's Painting Project; a non-profit who's objective is to provide vulnerable children with an opportunity to develop their creative skills while having a safe and educational way of making money for their families by selling their paintings in the gallery. Most our kids used to make money by selling bracelets and fruit on the beach, collecting cans, or simply begging. They mainly come from very poor homes and communities that struggle with alcoholism, lack or parental guidance (or parents at all), little to no education, no clean drinking water, inadequate shelter, and inconsistent access to food. Despite their hardships, they show up to CCPP with beautiful bright faces, playfulness, laughter, talent, affection, and a eagerness to paint and sell! The children are so open; their faces glow with their wide smiles, dark sparkling eyes, and eagerness to have fun, be held and acknowledged. They show up in the same torn and stained clothes, mostly with empty bellies, little to no sleep, yet they shine with an unbelievable lightness towards their circumstance. They have a huge responsibility to make an income for their families and at CCPP they can sometimes earn more money than any other family member. It is very heart warming to hear them say they want to be artists when they are older; I just let them know that they already are!

Everyday we have two painting sessions, a English or computer class, lunch, and games. The idea is that they go to school and than come and paint but that is not always the case. There is a rice program for some of the families that offer a week's worth of rice under the condition that the parents send their kids to school and not the streets to sell, especially at night when they are most vulnerable. There is a social worker here who does family and school visits to make sure they are attending. For the most part the kids do go, mainly to learn English, in hope that it will lead to a job. My days are mixed with setting up the paints, preparing boards to paint on, steaching canvas, sewing torn clothes, helping with the English class, sitting on the floor playing games, filing paintings, selling their artwork, building frames, organizing the studio and art materials, helping the kids draw, serving lunch, cleaning, and having fun with the kids on field trips to the beach, the temple, nearby towns, and the movies. I had mix feelings about the work and organization when I started but as my relationship with the children has grown and my connection with a few of them has blossomed, I feel incredibly lucky to have had this experience.

As my days in Sihanoukville are near to an end, I have been reflecting on all that I have learn here, enjoyed here, and will always remember. I will miss buying groceries at the chaotic market in town, the giggles of tuk tuk drivers as they ask if I need a ride, the children on bikes that yell "CCPP!!!!" as I pass them on the streets, the hot and humid nights on the balcony playing cards and drinking, getting to know our neighbors and shopkeepers, buying strong ice coffee from the garage out back, barbecued seafood, sunset walks....and the hope that I have made an impact on the children here as much as they have on me. It will be very difficult to say goodbye...

Portraits

2010-03-26T04:10:00.000-07:00

2010-03-26T03:35:00.000-07:00

2010-03-26T03:02:00.000-07:00

Traveling has brought me many things, including some troublesome adventure...

It was my last day on Koh Chang island with my dear friend Emily and we decided to rent a motorbike to explore the island with our English friends. We had been quite lazy enjoying the sea and the sand, tanning ourselves, reading books, and eating and drinking ourselves silly. This was the most proactive decision we had made all week! We rented the bike where our friends had and with a vague explanation of how to use the machine, we hopped on and were slowly off down the road, adrenaline feeding the engine. As I held on to Emily's hips she became a natural; I could feel her muscles loosen as she became a more confident driver. Koh Chang is notorious for its mountains, making the journey to each beach a curvy and steep ride. As we attempted to climb a hill, our bodies and bike almost vertical, a sharp turn took advantage of our speed and, in slow motion, the wheels were taken from under us, we crashed to the ground, slid across the pavement, into the other lane and into the ditch. It happen so quickly and so slow; I could see it all happening. My thoughts were so present..."ok, we're not making this turn, ok now the bike is tipping, ok now I am on the ground, ok now i can feel the cement on my skin, keep your head up natalie, ok now i am in a ditch, ok now i hurt, uhhhhhhh". We were both shocked but peeled ourselves off the ground and to our feet, brushing dirt and leaves off, and examining where the sharp, burning pain was coming from. We both had our fair share of road burn caked in dirt and we both were extremely lucky that there was no oncoming traffic to make our injuries worse. With the help of our friends that were following behind us, we made it back down the hill and to the pharmacy where they cleaned us up and we bought them out of bandages and antibacterial cream. It was incredibly painful to be cleaned up; from the intense pain and overwhelming emotional pressure in my chest, all I could do was hold Emily's hand and cry.

Unfortunately, there was no resting and healing on the island for me. The next day, as bandaged as I could be, I limped my way to a taxi, a airport, a change in flights, another airport, a tuk tuk, and into a guesthouse in Phomn Penh, Cambodia where I was going to start my time volunteering. That night, alone in my room, I slowly stripped my leg of its bandages to observe how my injury had managed the day. I knew that something wasn't right; could it be infected? why is it SO swollen? Am I just so emotional I cannot see right? The next day, as I was on a four hour bus ride to the coastal town that I would settle in, my leg throbbed, and my continual explanation to onlookers was getting to me. I arrived to the volunteer house, introduced myself and almost passed out. My leg was swollen like a papaya, throbbing like a heartbeat, burning, stinging, and forcing me onto the couch. The other volunteers circled me and said that sure enough, it's infected and I need some serious clean up. I spent the next fews days either in bed or on the couch, hobbling from one to the other. I would say the most painful part was when the bandage stuck to the wound and I had to rip off the developing scab. Not only did is hurt like nothing I had felt before, I was also alone in a hot room, feeling very isolated and depressed; all I needed was something familiar and comforting.

It has been three weeks and my scabs have fallen off and my sprained knee is begining to give me more movement. I can swim in the ocean now, without fear of more infection (the water is WAY to warm here for the salt water to be healing), and go on walks without feeling sore. I still cannot fully straighten or bend me knee but that will only take time and patience. I have some awesome large scars that sorta match my birthmark on my other leg and a good story. Most importantly, I have a new perspective on how blessed I am to have my body and mobility, with all that I can do with it, I lead an amazing life.....

The photos above are first of my scar, the infection, and the swollen leg on the second night.

stories reeling in my mind.....

2010-03-18T05:11:00.000-07:00

Now that I am settled in Sihanoukville, my mind is dancing in the past memories and stories I have lived in such a short amount of time. I am surprised and interested in how and why certain experiences affected me more, how my openness and expectations served or failed me, and how I can preserve my new insight so it takes me even further into my travels. Again, I am uncertain how I can describe everything so it offers you a glimpse into my life; I will just have to settle with the images and moments that I retrace often...........

One arm holding onto the safety handle, the other cradling my dear friend as her head lays on my lap as she tries to find peace on the ferocious ride to Luang Prabang from Luang Nam tha. It is hot and dusty in the van, my window is open offering me no relief, and the driver is taking us on what feels like a suicidal mission ride; dodging trucks, children on bikes, stray dogs, and the edge of the road. I wonder, is this my last ride? How will my family know what has happened? Am I ready? What morbid thoughts! After the first four hours, we reached a place for lunch. I barely enjoyed my soup, head between my legs to prepare for the next few hours...Luang Prabang better be worth it! (and it was!)

Guided down a narrow walkway, led by our new friend, we are bombarded with smells of fermented fish, fried coconut and bananas, stir fried noodles, jeow, barbecued fish and chicken, offers of beer lao and a good deal. We gather tastes of everything to satisfy our bellies. We tell tales of travel and home. As we walk through the night market we are tempted to purchase wooden bowls, silk textiles, bags, t-shirts that obviously state your status as a "felong", handicrafts, laolao, silver jewelry, and much more...but leave empty handed with the promise that it will repeat the next night. As the town quiets for the night, we grab beers and head to the Mekong riverbed, dry like a dessert, and so inviting for moon gazing, star counting, and late night giggles and caress....

Cold terra cotta tiles are my only relief as I lay defeated on the bathroom floor. My only vision is a porcelain bowl. Everything I have consumed the last few weeks leaves my body over and over from every direction until I have nothing left except the few drops of water I sip to revive me but again my body rejects it. Emily sits behind me on the floor, her hand on my back brings me so much comfort. I feel so thankful to have her with me otherwise this moment, or these hours, would feel so lonely.

2010-03-18T03:33:00.000-07:00

fish steaming in a banana leaf, a dish I learned in a lao cooking class.....our bungalow on a lagoon on koh chang.....one of the rivers that hug luang prabang.....river crossing into laos.....

a mixture from days past

2010-03-18T03:14:00.000-07:00

doing what i do best....chaing mai on the river....adorable little girl at a flower festival in the mountains of northern thailand....early morning offerings for the monks....temple at sukhothai

2010-03-18T02:40:00.000-07:00

market in luang prabang.....a magical swimming hole above and below a waterfall, mermaids looking out into the jungle.....silk worms feasting.....rice patties drying....

2010-03-12T03:25:00.000-08:00

streets of Luang Prabang....mosaic temple......offerings.......drunk from lao lao, up too many stairs at a temple and trying to smile pretty, without laughing....

2010-03-12T03:07:00.000-08:00

trying my hand at dancing at a Lao wedding....silk weaving....small village in hills near Luang Nam tha.....processing cotton.....rice fields.....

2010-03-12T02:56:00.000-08:00

dog meditating at the temple.....feasting, what i do best.......buddhas feet......one of many sunsets in Tak

market

2010-03-10T05:00:00.000-08:00

....mango, papaya, baskets of sticky rice, bottles of oyster sauce, piles of tamrind, banana leaves, blocks of congealed blood, roots of ginger and galanga, jackfruit and durian, buckets of fermented fish, coconuts, miniture eggplant, marigolds for offerings, chicken feet, palm oil, rose apples, limes, gleaming silvery fish, beef kidney, egg noodles, condensed milk for coffee and tea, morning glory, donuts, lemongrass, beetles, steaming soup, old levi's, bustling buyers, motorbikes, tuk tuks, 'Hello hello! You like here....!'

Luang Nam Tha

2010-03-07T23:56:00.000-08:00

The little dusty town of Luang Nam Tha; surrounded by dry rice fields, towering mountains. a smokey haze reminding you of the current season of sunshine and the desperation for rainfall. We arrived by van and tuk tuk in the company of a kind German couple. The unexpected journey here was a fortune of the sky and its unwillingness to provide moisture the last four months. The lack of rain has resulted in a dry riverbed and the passage by boat to Luang Prabang was merely impossible. Little did we know that Lunag Nam Tha would bring us rest, a memorable and authentic Lao wedding, and traveling companions turned friends.

On our second day, we rented bicycles, this time with proper gears and tires, and were led by our guide Somlak. Up red dusted roads, into the forested hills, through a Lamet village where we saw bamboo making and beautiful gentle faces of women and children in traditional dress, we found ourselves at a modest waterfall that was half its size due to the season. We continued on west on the main road where a group of young boys challenged us to a race before we turned off down another dirt road, leading us to a village built on stilts; bamboo woven homes standing above ground. Laundry of traditional textiles hang to dry below as children, dogs, chickens and pigs play, women squat over open fires, and men huddle in groups. Here, we came across a "moonshine" distillery right on the side of the road. Women with their babies in tow, hovered over the container of soaked sticky rice that is steamed and turned into lao lao or lao whiskey. We were offered a shot; its warm, sweet flavor satisfied our pallet which pleased the makers. Onward, we stopped to watch another group of women weave beautiful colored silk; such intricate patterns created with such ease and precision.

With the sun beating down on us and stomachs growling, we stopped along the Mekong river and feasted on vegetables and Jeow-a traditional Lao dish that resembles salsa but with local flavors of smoked eggplant and tomatoes, chili, garlic, lemongrass, and lime. Stuffed and sleepy, Somlak politely asked if we would join him at his friends wedding. Knowing that this was an opportunity not to pass up, we agreed and biked to the festivities with no clue what we were getting into-which is what makes it so appealing!

We arrived and were asked to take our hair down as only the bride wears it up. We entered the tent of which hundreds of people congregated and we were handed our first of 8 shots of lao lao. Somlak led us to a table of his friends and a quick glance around, we were the only "felongs" (foreigners) there; all eyes and whispers on us. Immediately, we were offered more lao lao, as the mother of the bride travels from table to table carrying a plastic bottle of the whiskey and a communal shot glass that she refills for the guests. Its hard to decline because one, it tastes good, and two the obvious stare from the other guests forces the liquid down. It didn't take long before we were asked to dance which only put us more in the spotlight! Somlak got up to sing, his voice blaring through the speakers, guiding us for the dance---slowly walking in a circle, hands delicately moving, one step toward your partner than back another passing them like a dosey-doe. Around and around, everyone moved slowly, mostly due to the heat and slight drunkenness.

After getting wasted, Somlak insisted that we ride to the local temple, another few kilometers away and 176 steps up stairs to the top; the three of us drunk and laughing at our state of being and of our unbelievable experience we just had. Somlak timidly asked us if we had a good day and if we would like to go back to the wedding. Yes, we had a fantastic day but were in need of a nap to recover. However, Somlak, the villages, the wedding, and the lao lao will be a story never to forget!

Mr. Noi and Alan Bate, unexpected stay....

2010-02-23T00:34:00.000-08:00

The most consistent lesson you learn while traveling is listening to your gut; that little intuitive feeling that tells you where your path shall go. Emily and I recall the moments where we have felt it, where we knew we would be making the right decision to go with it, and to no prevail, we have been delighted by unique and memorable experiences that fuels our hearts. Sitting in a cafe in Pai, we were trying to decide what our next move was going to be. We had been warned that Pai can "get" you; you come for a few days but stay for weeks. We were enjoying our time there with some new English friends and the large amounts of wandering hippie's and ex-pats, but our time together was limited and there was so much we wanted to see! We wanted to make our way to the Thailand-Laos border and take a boat down the Mekong to Luang Prabang, which is the path of most the travelers we met, who buy packages to do it all. There had been rumors that the river was too low (it hadn't rained in 4 months); boats had hit rocks and sunk or simply just got stuck. These rumors and the desire to get off the beaten track convinced us to just buy one bus ride to the border town of Chaing Khong. On the bus we met some amazing people who made the 6 hour ride bearable; one of them being Aman, a Turkish man born and raised in Germany, who was one of very few people left who spoke Amharic. We were the only three on the bus who had no plans but "whatever happens" at the border. As we walked the sleepy streets in the town we met Mr. Noi, a Thai man we started conversation with, originally in search of sticky rice and mango. He informed us that there was something special to see in Chaing Khong, just take a left at the next street....and there we found The Hub, a bicycle museum packed full of bike paraphernalia. The owner, a British man, had collected all the items since he was 13 years old, the year that he knew he was going to race bikes. We sat with him as he told us his story; the feeling he got when we first saw a racer, the people he had met (who knew mick jagger was a cyclist?), buying a 150 year old bike and one made completely out of recycled material....and his new adventure, riding around the world in 99 days to beat the record of 126 days by a man years younger than he! He encouraged us to stay and as we sat mesmerized by his tales, a decision was made to stay and rent bikes to a lake he recommended.
The next day Emily, Aman, and I hopped on gear less bikes and made our way down a dirt road cupped in rice fields and thatched huts. Mountains surrounding us, reminding us of our upcoming journey to Laos, we made our way to a quiet lake, sat and cooled off, and giggle in pure enjoyment of our little intuition showing us the right way......

2010-02-23T00:01:00.000-08:00

whiskey made from sticky rice: lao lao "distillery" on the side of the road....happy travelers in Chaing Khong....dinner from the night market.....ingredients for 6 thai dishes I made.....local villagers performing for the flower festival in a small village in the mountains....

2010-02-22T23:41:00.000-08:00

amazing vine on one of my hikes in the Chaeson National Park where we spent four days.....altar at SukhoThai where I spent a hot day riding around, finding 500 year old Buddhas the size of buildings....abundance at the night market.....making yum yum with my thai family for a potluck with friends, the night ended laughing and singing thai folk songs....elephant at a animal refuge...

survival words

2010-02-22T23:34:00.000-08:00

emily and I make sure we know "our" language in another language....what do you think the most important phrase is? IT'S DELICIOUS!
arroy mak mak and sep lai flow out of our mouths as often as things flow back in.........we are crazy about the food, crazy about trying new things, and crazy about spending hours talking about it and writing stories in our journals of the magical things we tried....
at the end of every meal, belly's protruding from our waist we laugh and say "ahhh, our little Thai baby..." and we rub our tummy to ease our digestion!

repeat

2010-02-22T04:12:00.000-08:00

Chaeson National Park =--

wake up for 6am Yoga...walk softly down the hill along waking forest and find sitting meditators on wooden floors, find your place on your knees and your breath, sun salutations as the sun rises behind us, blood circulating through body enough to bring hunger to our stomachs for our traditional thai breakfast

hiking in the bamboo.....slather sunscreen on cheeks and shoulders, pretend to read thai and know which trail to go up, find yourself in bamboo groves, dry leaves, singing birds and insects, bathe in waterfall, continue conversation on love and life with new friend

11 am meditation...sit in shade and find a position that brings you relaxation, listen to tummy growls

12 pm Thai lunch...eyes wide watching plates set on table, steamed morning glory, tom kah gai, tree ripened papaya and mango, sticky rice in bamboo basket, northern thai specialties so yummy but too complicated to describe, remembering to eat slowly but tempted to go fast to maintain the glorious flavors in my mouth

hot springs, thai massage, thai ice coffee....ease slowly into sulfur waters, close eyes and soak, tension washing away, hear giggles of thai children behind the tree watching me, walk on dry paths to simple cotton mattress on floor, strong hands awaiting me, manipulating my body into positions that look painful but feel heavenly, relaxing into massage, songs of geckos, birds and insects again reminding me of my place in the thai forest, find shade under tree to enjoy my daily ice coffee, so strong it rings memories of home

3 pm restorative yoga.... in positions for minute after minute, breathing into stretch to go deeper and deeper, now I know what kind of yoga my body screams for

5:30 pm dinner....somehow I can fill my belly again, its easy when the smells and flavors from the kitchen make the hair on your body stand, your heart beat faster, and your tummy sing a melody

Evening.....walk back up the hill, muscles working but the heat feels good, play cards and laugh, smiling, content, knowing that tomorrow will bring me the same

2010-01-30T23:38:00.000-08:00

happy on a ferry to rawene...sunset at the tree house....colors that I couldn't pass up on the road....the beautiful beautiful ocean....

looking down, the ground can hold beautiful things....

2010-01-30T21:55:00.000-08:00

2010-01-30T21:23:00.000-08:00

a beach at the end of kerikeri pennisula....a shot from a moving car in the hokianga region.....the turbulent waters at cape regina, this happens to be the pacific ocean side.....the pink beach

geothermal wonder.....

2010-01-30T20:12:00.001-08:00

Coming together....

2010-01-30T18:51:00.000-08:00

Do I start with the pink beach, the intentional farm, the infected insect bite, or where the ocean meets the sea? The last few weeks have seemed like months; I am constantly confused by time and its passing. When I calculate the days and realize I have only been gone a month, I am in disbelief. I am doing really well. At first, when I arrived to my parents, I was a little depressed. I think I was decompressing from all the rush of the last few months in Portland, reflecting on the actuality of my decision to leave for awhile, and just hanging with my parents can test my nerves. We did some great hiking though and I drank and ate myself silly, but was eager to move on.

Traveling on my own has been amazing. I surprise myself with the ease of how I get myself from one place to another, without any plans. I feel a sense of confidence that I have missed, and I am so utterly content with each moment. I have hardly been alone, meeting so many people. I love the excitement of a new person, a new story to hear, a interesting comparison in cultures; a complete stranger turned friend over conversation.

I did meet up with a familiar face from back home, Will. He met up with me in the small coastal town in the Bay of Islands; Paihia. We drove along the coast to the only accessible northern most tip of New Zealand, Cape Regina. It is where the Tasman Sea meets the Pacific ocean- a greeting of wild waves and turbulent waters. The Maori, the indigenous people of NZ, believe this greeting represents the feminine and masculine coming together-ironic that the water is so wild there! We sat on a bluff and looked north towards Indonesia and south towards the south pole. We were closer to the South pole than home! On our mini road trip, we stayed near a pink sand beach that was full of beautiful shells and tide pools, plus a beached whale. We spent the night eating fresh red snapper and listened to the Maori history that is so present in the Northland.

As an adventure, we decided to find the hitchhiker that Will had picked up along the way to meet me. With only a street name, we found him at the end of a dirt road and the beginning of a enormous sustainable farm, inhabited by a family of 30. I felt we had stepped back in time. We found our new friend with the direction from Gilbert, an incredibly sweet and kind hearted man who had lived there his entire life; he said "follow the track into the bush, keep right of the creek; they live in the hut above the swimming hole"--so we did as we were told and were welcomed with a dinner and free place to stay. There was no electricity, they grow everything they eat, from the wheat and corn for bread, and the cow for its milk. Everything is cooked on an open fire, everything is done by hand. We slept in our own hut further up the creek, hugging a waterfall. It was so amazing.

Will and I said our goodbyes and I was on my own again....for twenty minutes...until I met Shaun, and we traveled on our own little road trip through the most beautiful valley and harbour, the Hokianga Region. He surfed while I played on beaches, we hiked to hidden coves, stayed in a tree house, drank with some Scots, and traveled across the mainland on back roads with no names.

I spent the last few days settled back in the Bay of Islands, relaxing from my adventures....only a few days left in New Zealand...

2010-01-14T22:32:00.000-08:00

....just following my nose....
what would i do without my handy sense of direction??

2010-01-12T17:20:00.000-08:00

It's only been a week since I left Wainui, where my parents live, but it seems like months to my feet and eyes. Wainui brought me rest, amazing food and wine (thanks mom and poppy!), quiet days for reading and sunbathing, and time to reflect on my new direction. One night my mom, our friend Lynnie, and I made our way to Arthurs Pass; the southern alps of the South Island. We "tramped" our way up a riverbed, over Woolshed ridge, to an unbelievable view of the surrounding mountains. One of the most difficult hikes I have done, I was in awe that the two 60 yr old sassy "hobbits" were right at my heels! We celebrated with wine, giggles, and a beautiful sunset!
I made my way to Nelson where I met a traveling companion, Brian, with a car (bonus!) and we spent two days in the incredible Abel Tasman National Park. Memories of my time here four years ago with my sis and friend made me wish for a few familiar faces! It is so beautiful; the clearest water I have seen, views of hidden beaches, seal colonies, waterfalls, and romantic sandbars. Traveling by car enables you to see the secrets of New Zealand; that or your bike, I wish I had mine! Brain and I explored dirt roads to deep caves, valley views, and tasty wineries. Amazing Chardonnay!

Now in Wellington, I am trying my hand at couchsurfing and got lost in the botanical gardens which was the best smelling place to get lost in! I have walked miles around this city, eaten delicious vegan food, and sat in a bar that could have been in Portland. I am meeting up with a friend, a french Canadian woman who I connected with immediately, for a drink tonight.
things are good, real good.....

2010-01-12T01:02:00.000-08:00

d.e.s.i.g.n.....i see

2010-01-12T00:43:00.000-08:00

a bar in wellington that reminded me of home...a pathway through the forest to the largest hole in the southern hemisphere...clear turquoise water of abel tasman national park....a sandbar in the sea where i ate my picnic....

2010-01-03T20:27:00.000-08:00

P.a.t.t.e.r.n.s

2010-01-03T19:48:00.000-08:00

....standing alone, the view of a single tree that I see everyday. Sunset after a long hike in the mountains. my first day at the beach, it was beautiful. the garden and the hills. candlelight from the treehouse.......

2009-12-23T17:47:00.000-08:00

so long, for now.....

In this quite moment, sitting in the house I grew up in, wondering what I will find in the coming months....I cannot help but think of the experiences and people that have made my life so full and dear in the last few years. thank you, I am truly grateful. I will bring back stories to share and listen to yours in hope that we have become closer to the people that we strive to be.....xoxo