Carnaval times

Sparkling turns, terrifying faces;
Dancers in unison;
Carnaval estas tu.

La Virgen and cars;
Offerings for new year;
Carnaval estas tu.

Charque for sale;
Ponchillos, ponchillos;
Carnaval estas tu.

Where are you from?
How long have you been here?
Carnaval estas tu.

Foam in my hair;
Water guns at my back;
Carnaval estas tu.

These words cannot even begin to convey the experience of Carnaval. The smells and sounds varying from the pleasant to the vulgur are all a part of the wonder of this celebration.

As it turns out, Carnaval is not only celebrated in Oruro but this is the city to experience the bolivian Carnaval as it is the biggest and most well-known event. A parade with thousands of participants come down a main street lined with bleachers where observers purchase their spot for the two-day parade. Costumes of various forms walk, dance, jump, down the street, most groups accompanied by their own marching band. Side-streets are lined with food stalls as well as vendors selling umbrellas, ponchos, sunglasses, "espume" which are cans of foam that are used to spray foam into each others' faces, especially if one is a foreigner...

La Paz also holds a parade down one of the main avenidas but my experience of it this past Sunday has it coming in below the parade in Oruro. I can only guess that this one has more school-aged participants and isn't as organized/has a different purpose than the one in Oruro. The one thing that La Paz upped on Oruro was the amount of foam spraying and water attacks. In La Paz, participants step it up a notch with water guns making way for water balloons and water bottles. The other thing that Pacenos (those who live in La Paz) also do is attack people from their cars - as was my experience Sunday morning on my way home from breakfast. From a passing car, a little girl of maybe 4 years of age spray foamed me in the face. She had wicked aim for a wee one her age.

In any case, Carnaval, you are a 4-day festival that I will not soon forget. I still don't understand all of the symbolism; perhaps one day though...

Manana manana

So it appeared that “manana manana” was my mantra in the days leading up to my departure for La Paz but soon enough, it was 3:30am and my bags were packed. Running on an hour sleep, I made my flight and was en route to La Paz with stops in Los Angeles and Lima first. My fingers were crossed that once in LA, I would be able to switch to an earlier flight out of Lima, saving me from a 30hr travel day. Luck was on my side and not only was I able to change to the earlier flight but even with a short connection time in Lima, I was also able to catch that earlier flight; the only downside is that my bags did not make it with me and so I wait (note: while typing this, my luggage arrived - yay!)

As usual, the altitude is definitely slowing me down – La Paz sits at 3500m with the airport at 4000m. Not five minutes had passed since I had disembarked the plane that I could feel my heart beating fast and I was feeling slightly light-headed. To adjust to the altitude (and to shake off this cold that I seem to be nursing), I have been enjoying copious amounts of coca tea and ginger tea that should get me back on track over the next few days. The plan for here is to take it easy, although I do have to write a midterm tomorrow for the course that I am taking by distance, and then be ready for a fun festival this weekend in the city of Oruro as they celebrate Carnaval.

Adventures for the New Year!

2012 is winding down and so is time with my undergrad degree. Some of you know that I have been tackling this degree for quite some time, especially after switching from an International Studies major to a Geography major, but, after quite a few semesters and fun adventures to Peru to Ottawa in between, I will be happily receiving my degree this coming June. But first, to finish it off in style, I have been accepted as an intern for a community development project in Bolivia.

From roughly January through to April, I will be living and working in Bolivia on a project centered around the principles of Community Economic Development (CED.) This is an immense opportunity as it is going to allow me to use the skills that I developed last year while working with Aboriginal Affairs, but to apply them in a different setting that works from the ground up. Additionally, this project is close to the heart of someone that I look up to and who inspires me, so having her recommend me as an intern for the team is an amazing compliment. I am not going to give you a lot of details about what I will be doing down there; mainly because that is still in progress, and will probably stay in flux until after I arrive there. But if you want to learn more about the project as a whole, feel free to visit http://decbolivia.wordpress.com/ for more information.

As when I was in Peru, I will continue to post updates here and hopefully have great photos to share this second time around. So stay tuned and happy holidays to all!

When my Asian side comes out...

Some (many?) of you have now realized how much I love biking. Yes, it's not something that I have been doing for years but since my time in the central part of this country, the last 2 years have been filled with multiple bike rides over varied terrain, ranging from crazy temperature differences, various elevation grades, various wardrobes...

Anyways, I digress... Today I decided to conquer this weird thing that I had about biking to this certain shopping complex for groceries. To lay out the issue at hand: this complex is at sea level, I live at 140m above sea level - this doesn't sound like much but the rise from sea level to higher elevation is quite steep - my issue was that I would be biking downhill with an empty backpack, only to have to return home with a full backpack, complete with delicate fruits and vegetables. This all changed today. After my wonderful downhill ride off of campus yesterday (it's a steep 20% gradient), I figured that I had to get some fitness in today - especially since I was spending most of the day doing coursework.

The way that I convinced myself that this was a great idea is two-fold:
1) it would be excellent training for cycling Ireland;
2) I would only buy the things that I was setting out to buy (apple juice, yoghurt, tomatoes, bananas, some other good looking fruit, bulk slivered almonds, bulk candied ginger).

Well... that plan started unraveling when I arrived at the good produce grocery store. All of a sudden I was also buying a cucumber, a demi-loaf of fig and anise bread, and the piece de resistence that really evokes my Asian side: not one but two heads of cauliflower. Why two you ask? Well, it was buy one get one free, and like all good Asian girls, the free one was to be given to my aunt and uncle.

Now, as I am packing my bag for the ride back home, I am starting to think that it's pretty heavy. Its weight only became more apparent as I had to start biking home. The hills were one thing, the lights at the top of the hills were another (I successfully made all of the lights with only one slight moment when I had to pace myself in order to avoid putting down my foot). The areas that I used to think were flat became slight inclines; bref, it was a uphill battle for the entire ride home.

Once home, out of curiosity, I had to weigh my backpack. It turns out that with the addition of the two cauli-flower heads, my backpack was weighing in at 21.5lbs - no wonder that I found the bike ride home to be not as enjoyable as the ride down.

Moral of the story: don't go for the buy one get one free when the object in question is a head of cauliflower?

The letter of the weekend is "B"

So after many moons of not sharing my travels and inspirations, here I am, with the soft pitter patter of rain falling, the sweet smell of dampness throughout the air, sharing the latest adventure - one that could nearly qualify as an epic journey.

One day, on a sun-drenched patio, Ms L. and I discovered that both of us had held the same idea in mind: to bike from Swartz Bay to Victoria. This was it, we were going to make this happen. We set a date to accomplish this dream: September 8th-9th weekend, it was all going down.

The week leading up to it was filled with school returns, and even with getting back in to the scholastic groove, we were committed to following through with our plan.

Saturday morning was met with an early 6am wake-up on my part and yet, even with ample time to round up the last-minute things, I somehow ended up running behind leaving myself with a shy 17 seconds left in boarding the Seabus. Yet, Ms. L and I, both filled with nervousness and excitement, succeeded in meeting on the Canada Line platform, ready for this unknown adventure.

Onwards we went, through to Bridgeport Station where we would catch a bus to the ferry terminal. Now, we knew that there would be a chance that there could be other cyclists waiting for the bus thereby bumping us to the next available one so you can imagine our joy when we arrived at Bridgeport Station and although there is a line-up for the bus, we are the only cyclists. After a slight mishap in boarding, and subsequently getting told off by a young couple, we are en route for the next stage of our journey: the ferry.

Now, I had thought that I had understood the process of purchasing our tickets for the ferry and the proceedings for boarding but apparently not. It turns out that one must buy a ticket from an agent through the walk-on passenger line, and then head down to a bike corral area at the front of all of the cars where we would board first before all other passengers.

Enough of the procedural; words fail to describe the feeling of walking across the boarding ramp and then riding your bike onto the ferry. The holes in the grates that feel like you are about to fall through at any given moment, then the smooth, quiet metal that runs like mercury below your tires, the smell of grease, ocean, and the odd whiff of animal urine, invade all of your senses.
The ferry ride over was uneventfully filled with hot bevies, a small addition to breaky, and work-time for both of us... then the cycling portion - and the main part of our event - began...

The Lochside Trail is easy enough to find; right as soon as you disembark the ferry, you follow the bike lane from the terminal and shortly thereafter there is an overpass that one must go over in order to follow the Trail close to the water.
This Trail has a bit of something for everyone, except maybe an enthusiastic downhill mountain biker. From road riding, to seascapes, to gravel roads lined with farm land (pumpkin patches and HUGE pigs!) complete with horses alongside you that evoke my dreams of cycling Ireland, to traversing a bridge over boggy lands, to an old farm machinery museum and old men playing with model airplanes, this trail was an easy ride. Major upside? Blackberry bushes brimming with ripe ones for the picking! One of the odder moments was the discovery of a strange set-up along the trail. Ms L and I heard melancholic notes of music that were being transmitted through a stereo that had been set up - the music was the least weird of the whole sensory experience. There were signs of "Gina we love you" and displays of multiple ceramic cats littering the side of the path just in front of someone's home that is in the process of a public development proposal; we stopped, observed, ate more blackberries, and then continued on our merry way.

After a leisurely paced ride, we arrived in the Harbour ready for a (few) cold beverage(s) and a well-deserved bite to eat. Ms L introduced me to the Canoe Club - this place was just what we needed! A word of advice though, if enjoying a beverage of the hops variety, the IPA over the Bitters is our recommendation. After the meeting with a couple of Ms L's friends - and multiple hours of laughter and brainstorming, complete with the makings of a new music album - we were back on our bikes to make our way to Ms L's friend's place for some post-Beerfest celebrating. The night was comprised of a game of sky-bagging (?), some reading of "Where's Waldo", some family portraits, some fitness challenges, as well as numerous dance sessions.

The next day's ride, albeit we weren't feeling as fresh as the previous day, was a lot shorter; this was partially due to our desire to get to the ferry before the skies opened up on us - there was definitely a storm-a-brewing.

All in all, we survived. It was another fantastic outing that keeps spurring me on to do my cycling tour of Ireland next year.

On the path...

As in my last post, once again spring is the theme. It inspires me to share my thoughts and in today's words, I have decided to share an interesting realization that has happened.

I have been very pensive in the last week or so, and especially in the last few days. What is my plan in a year's time? Where do I see myself being in a few years? What do I want to do with my life?

So many ideas pop into my head. Yes, I want to be a photo journalist for National Geographic. Yes, I would like to be awarded a Nobel Peace Prize by the time that I turn 40. Yes, I want to make a difference. But... what does that look like? How am I going to make a difference? Will I be able to make a difference? I turn to others in hope of a sign; a beacon showing me the way; someone to tell me that I am doing the right thing.

And then today, I read the following:
"One of Gautam Buddha's most significant contributions to the spiritual life of humankind was to insist to his disciples, "Be a light unto yourself." Ultimately, each of us must develop within ourselves the capacity to make our way through the darkness without any companions, maps or guide."

Wow. Talk about a sign. And so I continue, on my journey of self-discovery, of self-trust, it's a path unknown but one that I know will be the right one.

Musings

Spring is definitely upon me and with it comes my time of musings. My mind floats on, pensive of the world around me, awakening, coming alive, seeing again, the freshness and the possibilities of this world that sometimes feels vast and perhaps even a bit empty, empty amongst the concrete, the bustle, the cries and the shouts. Then the sound of a bird trilling at sunrise, a bike downshifting at a light, that heavy earthy scent of land being exposed after a snowy winter. Inspiration surrounds me and so I write and I share.

Thoughts.
Thoughts stem from emotions occurred during a moment. Realization awakens a part of the grey that had been forgotten. Flow through the moments and allow the freedom to live. Each cell remembers its meaning once all control is relinquished. Further along, travel becomes the norm. Experience from the micro to the macro; the macro to the micro. Free of expectation, free of ego. Pura Vida.

This figure sits on the lotus leaf of perfection, gazing at the beauty of the night sky. She knows that "home" is not a physical place in the outside world, but an inner quality of relaxation and acceptance. The stars, the rocks, the trees, the flowers, fish and birds - all are our brothers and sisters in this dance of life. We human beings tend to forget this, as we pursue our own private agendas and believe we must fight to get what we need. But ultimately, our sense of separateness is just an illusion, manufactured by the narrow preoccupations of the mind.

Trust in the beauty, let go of the ego, there is a meaning to it all and it's easier to take the lazy route and let it all flow together