Camino de Santiago - the dos.

This design just made me happy. Smart parenting. Everyone plays together:

One of the people I’m walking with has a guide book. He is our guide (pronounced gweed-ay) He reads all the history and when we pass things of note he points them out and explains what he read. This bridge, he explained, was noteworthy because the tradition is that you have to take your shoes off whenever you cross it. He took his shoes off and explained to the other pilgrims who joined us crossing the bridge. About 10 of us crossed it together, shoes in hand. About half way across the bridge he starts giggling and announces the equivalent of, “It’s the tradition. Tradition of Gweeday!” He made the whole thing up. I’m still giggling.

Camino de Santiago - The Beginning

I was planning to sleep a bit and not worry about hurrying ahead. The day wasn’t suppose to be too hot, so I didn’t see the need to rush ahead ... well, it seems others had other ideas. The dorm was alive, awake, alert, and enthusiastic by 5:30am, so so was I! I headed out alone into the dark and followed the signs I could see through the dark streets and up the start of a hill, which turned into a climb, which turned into a mountain, and then a mountain range. All in all we - the travelers of the day, strangers mostly - climbed 1,400 meters with packs ranging from approximately 4 - 12kg ... mine weighing in somewhere around 10.5 (in hindsight, WAY too heavy).

And off we go!

The last few years have been an adventure, but sadly weren't able to be properly documented here.  My apologies for anyone with FOMO, but yeah, you missed out.  Moving on though, I'm off to find my Way.  

So here we go.  I will be hiking (walking) the Camino de Santiago.  As is the case with most things I do, there were some last minute complications, so don't be surprised if this series is interrupted periodically with pictures of other places and unrelated adventures.  Given my writing history, it kinda makes sense.  No? 

Since I am trying to keep my pack weight down, this trip sadly won't include super high quality photography, but I hope it will include high quality photo subjects which make up for cell phone travel photos, and reduced verbiage.  

Until next time, I hope this video of me preparing for departure will hold you over: 

Shout out to Urban Axes Boston

Test Test 1 2 ...

Long long ago, google disabled the app for blogger - the website that hosts this Blogovel. Sadly the only app I found was created by the developer “Made in Russia” which is a little suspect and also costs money. Since my next trip will be without my laptop I need to test out a few mobile work-arounds.

Enjoy this photo while I experiment.

Adventure Anniversary

This month marks the official (although not technical) anniversary of my current adventure.  To say that it has been a roller coaster would be an understatement, but I enjoy the fact that this month I recognized that anniversary by riding an actual roller coaster.  

Carnival rides here in Belize are not large, but they tend to be far more exciting.  Take for instance a simple ferris wheel.  The one I rode probably equaled the size of the largest ferris wheel I've even been on, but I'd never been on one that was a thrill ride before.  The approach to the top was fast enough that you come off the seat a little bit as your trajectory switches downward and your stomach follows suit.  It was delightful.  The caterpillar ride did exactly as you would expect and left the person on the outside of each car slightly crushed and bruised.  As an added bonus, our lap bar seemed to be malfunctioning and provided an extra bit of a challenge to the experience.  Finally, there was a matterhorn ride which was basically a caterpillar ride that also lifted up into the air.  This ride started breaking mid-way through the experience making terrible screeching sounds (which it hadn't been doing earlier), and all the lights mysteriously went out.  As I say, quite the adventure.

Much like the carnival, the past year has had its ups and downs.  While one is up is busy balancing the last down there are important moments in between.  Along the way there is work being done and sites being seen.  

One bit of work which has been neglected but will be no longer, is an update for this site.  So let me take you on a trip.  We're going to Billy Barquedier National Park.  

First of all, let's talk about location.  People have a lot of different thoughts when they think about Belize.  Some people imagine the islands, even more think about glittering white sandy beaches (which are almost non-existent here).  Before arriving, I thought of the deep jungles, jaguars and snakes wandering rolling hills.  In contrast, I spend most of my days in farm country.  It's flat and hot and full of cane fields.  On this trip however, I stumbled into jade hills and was in awe.  

Probably some of my favorite aspects of this trip were the things that keep it from the average tourist's eye.  There are very few places to stay.  I ended up in a tiny economy cottage being rented privately.  There wasn't any hot water, or a refrigerator, but the small stove-top and sink served my needs just fine.  From there it was about a mile walk along the highway to get to the park entrance.  There are several park entrances, and almost none of them are marked, but if you ask people along the way, and are persistent, they will act like you're crazy and give you vague directions that may or may not get you where you need to go.  On the bright side, this place isn't manicured and there are no facades, so what you get is real and the people you meet are honest.  That, for the most part, worked out in my favor.  

Upon reaching the waterfall, far later than anticipated, I happened upon an older gentleman and his son of about 8-10 years old.  Apparently, my late arrival was just what he had been hoping for all day.  It was an excuse for all of us to go wandering into the bush and see what we could find.  While I wasn't expecting to have a guide I was both relieved and very very lucky.  I was relieved because an unfamiliar jungle is not unlike a childhood bedroom - full of terrors, moving shadows and perceived dangers trying to kill you.  Whether the shadow that makes you jump is real or imagined, the broken leg from sliding down a mud hill, will still be a bit of a setback.  With a seasoned guide to lead the way, I was at least confident that if I were to be eaten by a jaguar, at least maybe someone could run away and tell the story while I was being eaten. 

The guide was far more useful than I could have know.  He pointed out the various kinds of ferns.  There were tapir tracks, which also informed me that I had NO idea how large a tapir is (approx 350 pounds).  

Along the way the trail got narrower and the guide got excited.  He started talking about taking a detour.  I couldn't figure out what he was talking about.  

Can you see it?  Cause I couldn't.

Why were we veering off the path and who is this "he" that we were going to be leaving alone. 

The (non-venomous) snake* that surely would have bitten me if I had been hiking alone.

When we got to the falls I offered the guide and his son a sandwich.  He accepted quietly, but at the first bite his eyes grew wide and he looked at the sandwich, then at me, then back at the sandwich.  I was nervous.  Had I failed to tell him an important ingredient?  Did he not eat meat?  Was he allergic?  He just asked, "You made this, didn't you?"  I said yes and immediately knew why he was surprised.  He thought I had given him a "burger" that you get at the bus station.  These are 2 pieces of bread or a bun with a slice of processed cheese in the middle.  Nothing more.  I had given him a turkey and cheese sandwich with lettuce, tomato, mayo, mustard, salt and pepper.  It may seem silly, but here, that's the difference between a fast food monstrosity and a farm fresh home made artisan burger.  You're welcome guide!  Thanks for keeping me alive and not letting the monsters of the jungle eat me.

After a couple of quick swims - the water was FREEZING - we headed back to the trail-head and parted ways.  It was gorgeous, and exhausting and incredibly interesting, and I hope not too many people get a chance to see it, because as it stands now, it's perfect.

Pro tip:  When a guide asks you if you want a walking stick and then takes one for himself, the appropriate answer is "yes please."  I've never used walking sticks while hiking before.  I've always found them a bit silly.  For the amateur hiker, if you need a walking stick to get you up or down the side of the mountain, you're probably off the trail or hiking beyond your abilities.  Train more, come back when you're ready.  I set off into the jungles of Belize, a proud rural raised girl who was familiar with deep woods and steep climbs.  Well, half way through the trek, which crossed a quick moving stream a couple of times, I was crossing through the shallows and the rocks were a bunch slipperier than I realized.  Down I went.  My foot got caught between two rocks, the back of my thigh was scratched, and bruised, and in order to free myself I ended up slicing my foot open.  The guide, who in the meantime had been joined by 3 younger jungle scouts, said nothing.  He simply turned around and handed me his walking stick, before carrying on.  He must have rightly guessed that it didn't do anyone any good to point out the error of my ways, that had already been done.  I was grateful.  

*Best guess - that's a tropical rat snake.  They eat rodents and would probably just scare the crap out of me or maybe bite me to get me to run away.  It would work.

Group Travel

I’ve mentioned here before that I am often a solo traveler.  I would estimate that my travel for the past decade has fallen almost entirely in 3 categories.  

1. Solo travel
2. Visiting someone in my friend or family base.
3. Travel for work/education - often venturing alone. 

This spring though I deviated from my typical pattern and traveled 3,000 miles from my current home to spend time with people who live very close to me … and in one case, I was traveling a quarter of the way around the world to spend time with my upstairs neighbor.  The experience was entirely foreign to me.  In fact, I think the first thing I said when I got off the plane and saw my three friends waiting for me at the end of the gangway was something like, “This is so weird.  I shouldn’t know you people.  This is a layover. I should be alone.”  

Traveling with other people creates a whole new set of experiences in addition to those provided by the venue that you’re visiting.  Want to get coffee?  Cool.  

Solo traveler:  Stop at the next acceptable shop and buy yourself a coffee according to your needs and whims. 

Group traveler:  Check in with the group.  Do we also want food?  Coffee to go or sitting preferable?  When you say coffee, do you mean pour-over or espresso/latte drink?  Oh sure, iced coffee …. ummmm that may take some more work.  20 minutes later 75% of your group may have what they were looking for.

Reading through that it seems so much harder, but it’s also a great challenge.  During past layovers my greatest challenge was to find a place where I could either sleep in relative security, or figure out a way to stay awake until my boarding time.  With a group that’s not really an issue.  If we’d wanted to, we could have cordoned off an area and slept with security in numbers.  In reality our greatest concern was not spending so much time joking and making fun of each other that we ended up leaving a trail of belongings behind us. 

Things in jeopardy of being left behind: one fitbit, two wallets, an entire carry-on bag, and one passport.  

It is possible that jetlag played a part in this as well.  

The beauty of traveling with friends is that you see a side of them that you otherwise might not.  It’s not like these new traits are wholly unexpected or in any way out of character, but everyone is out of their element and does not have access to typical coping mechanisms.  

Easily distracted?  Well, there’s no normal routine to keep you mostly on track.  

At one point, we were on our way to dinner, wandering through a section of a city where I used to live.  Two of the people in our group were a little bit ahead of the other two.  I was part of the group in back.  When we passed an alley that led to where I used to live, I got distracted and led the two of us in the back off on  a parallel street to check out my old home.  Of course, after venturing off, it DID occur to me that the remaining companions may miss us, but I also knew that at the end of the block the two streets converged again.  Worst case scenario, we were all headed to the same restaurant and would meet up there. By the time we met up again at the restaurant, there were stories of searching for lost travel mates, meeting points set and plans for how long to wait before calling the police (only about 20 minutes had passed).  

There were also several instances involving people who are exceptionally prone to losing things.  The assumption was always that if you couldn't immediately locate an item it MUST have been left behind.  This assumption wasn't without merit, however large amounts of time ended up being spent to locate phones, wallets, fit bits and an errant parking ticket that was usually in the person’s pocket the whole time.

The best part of all of this is the stories.  We have a huge list of inside jokes which only we will ever understand, but an equally long list of stories that are entirely relatable to anyone who’s ever been away from home and outside of their usual surroundings.  

It was such a good experience that I’ve decided to do it again in June.  Next stop:  Island life!

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The Road from Dushanbe

First and foremost:  Thanks for reading!!  When I sign on, I can see how many people have checked the posts and there’s even a map so I can see where people are signing on from.  There have been readers from the United States, the UK, Kenya, France, Romania, Iran, Russia, Turkey, Germany, Latvia, Australia, Belgium, Spain, Ireland, and South Korea (If I’m missed anyone, sorry, perhaps your internet is being rerouted through another country).  I hope you like what you’re reading, comment often, and continue to tune in.  Thanks for checking this out, and feel free to let me know if you have questions or if there’s something I can investigate for you.

On to the post!

There have been times when I have struggled to find something to write about.  It’s not that there aren’t things that you might find interesting, it’s just that I find it difficult to be passionate about things that I see everyday or that inherently make sense to me.  Many of these things only inherently make sense because I’ve been here or somewhere comparable, but none the less it’s hard to find a topic that I can force to be compelling enough. 

This is not one of those times.  I spent the day traveling from Dushanbe to Khujand.  What was quoted as a 5-6, probably 5, hour car ride turned into a 300km, 9 hour epic journey.  There are so many things that I want to write.  The difficulty is more likely to be that I will have trouble narrowing it down.  In an effort to get all my thoughts down and convey what I think you will find most interesting I’ve decided to break this up into sections.  The result with be that I will just keep writing without posting.  I’ve actually learned a new feature on this blog-o-vel which could come in handy.  I can apparently write posts, publish them, but schedule them for some time in the future.  This benefits you because it means that I will not try to put 4 posts worth of information in a single post.  It also means that I can include more pictures like this one:

I am particularly amused by the contrast of a "Stop/Control" sign in the middle of the wild.

Perhaps the best part is that even while I’m on a plane or away from internet, or perhaps even after I’ve returned from this trip, you will continue to receive new posts.  All of this is of course only beneficial to you if you actually like what you’re reading, but since you’re here and you’re reading, I’m going to go ahead and take that leap of faith.  Big of me, eh?

Transportation:

***There once was a girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead.  When she was good, she was very very good.  When she was bad, she was horrid!!***

Perhaps we will begin with the very very good, and later move on to the horrid.

The roads of Tajikistan, from my experience, are much like the girl in the nursery rhyme.  For the most part they are remarkably well cared for and many are quite new.  The main road from Dushanbe to Khujand is a toll road and it seems that these fees/tariffs/taxes, as they are interchangeably referred, are actually put to good use.  This, however, can be a bit of a problem.  While the road is in good condition and relatively free of livestock, it still climbs through a 4,000 meter elevation mountain range.  The condition of the road is so good that there doesn’t seem to be any reason to slow down … until you’re already on top of a hairpin turn, with oncoming traffic, about to barrel off the side of a cliff. 

This was a wreck that had clearly been there for a long time.  This not only made me more scared, but also highlighted the point that if you do go off the side of the road, unless you make it very clear that you’re still in the car and need assistance, there’s no real guarantee that anyone’s coming to help you.

Side note:  On our return trip, we did see an accident.  A tractor trailer truck carrying liquid gas was unsuccessful in navigating one of the turns.  The truck rolled down the hill, past the next road, further down the hill and across the subsequent road to land on the shoulder/river bank.  Thank god it was a single car accident and none of the gas ignited.  I should also note that the accident was pretty recent and the police were there in force.  To their credit they were investigating almost immediately. 

I would say that Americans in general are a bit squeamish when it comes to road safety.  We like everything to be clean, without debris, at slow speeds, with no distractions.  Likewise, everyone travelling in a row, with extra wide lanes and a wide shoulder is appreciated.  This does, of course, set us up to be horrified by driving conditions in most other parts of the world.

When the trip began, I rather prided myself on my calm composed demeanor despite the high speeds and lack of attention to what was technically “on the road” and what was maybe not quite as much within its boundaries.   Afterall, I have been on roads where you travel at 60+ miles per hour despite potholes and herds of sheep.  I have even had the opportunity of being borderline kidnapped and raced up and down the Amalfi coast in Italy on roads that had similar cliffs that fell straight into the water by an old man who most probably was not sober.  This should be a piece of cake. 

However, I think this is the first time I’ve been in a situation like this and I’ve screamed.  I screamed more than once.  In my defense, the two other Tajik men in the car with us also became upset and were quite adamant that the driver should perhaps slow down and be careful or at least I assumed that's what it meant as we approached each turn they began to chant "стой!  стой! стой! стой!".  On more than once occassion we were going so fast the car slid sideways around the curve, wheels screaching.  In my experience, when the locals – the ones who are supposed to be accustomed to the way things are here – when they are also making comments like, “I’m still young.  There are so many things I want to do and see in my life, perhaps we should get there alive” then I think it is reasonable to be outwardly concerned.  And this is why perhaps nice smooth roads are not always the best situation.

** This post was written and is being published after both the outbound and return trip.  I will not make the same trip, or have anymore long drives with the same driver.**

And so it begins ... again!

Have you ever wished you could travel around the world?  Perhaps it's the people that I tend to meet and hang around with, or maybe it's an underlying human curiosity, but I've talked to so many people that have expressed a desire to be a travel writer, or just be paid to travel around the world.  It occurred to me the other day, that I'm essentially getting to do just that.  Granted, I'm not being paid to write this blog (yet - I'm open to sponsorships if you are an editor or know one that you'd like to connect me with), however I am being paid a nominal sum of money periodically to hop about the globe.  This time part of my job is also to convey a modicum of cultural understanding for the place in which I find myself.  I've thought many times that if I could be anything in the world, with no restrictions, I'd be an explorer.  Somewhere along the lines of Sir Ernest Shackleton or Dora.  In a management class I took last year (we love you Mark Haas!), the instructor used a recruitment ad attributed to Sir Shackleton in order to demonstrate leadership.  The advertisement read: 

MEN WANTED:  For hazardous journey.  Small wages, bitter cold, long months of complete darkness, constant danger, safe return doubtful.  Honour and recognition in case of success.

My first thought was - I would TOTALLY consider that offer if posed.  Okay, to be a little more realistic, if someone where to give me that exact offer right now, I might ask for clarification of "return doubtful" .... why is it doubtful?  Are you lacking confidence in leadership?  Are we likely to be killed by someone?  Or might we simply die from the elements?  I'll take my chances with the last one.  I'll need more information about the first two.  Alas, there seem to be a derth of such opportunities available.  Our curious human nature has mapped out so much of the world already.  Additionally, my ability to take advantage of them goes down with every added loan dollar I accept.  I do continue to promise to do my best to accept any such opportunity that is ... reasonable?  :)

So here we go again.  Filled with a sense of anticipiation and trepidation (love that word!), I set out upon an unsuspecting world.  Perhaps that's a bit over used and even over blown, but certainly an unsuspecting Central Asian nation is true enough.  Tomorrow night I will leave these states that are united for the Republic of Tajikistan. 

This region is not completely unknown to me, and perhaps even for that reason I'm a little uncertain of my decision to go.  I have fond memories and great stories from my year living in Turkmenistan.  There is a place in Turkmenistan where I think of and a warm sensation of home washes over me.  The mental image of faces from that place bring a tear to my eye.  There is a woman whom I call mom, and another who I feel closer to than I ever could imagine even feeling for a sister.  These are people I hoped I was never required to lay my life down for, mostly because I might have, had it been required.  And yet, I know that some of those memories have sweetened with age, and some are only so sweet because of the contrast of adversity in which they were set.  Do I love this place of Central Asia? or am I merely proud of my ability to overcome it?  There is one thing that I am certain of:  I truly loved the people that I met and the hope that they were able to cultivate.  I am excited for the opportunity to go back and more fully understand my relationship with a hard and unforgiving region of the world.  I am not excited to find out just how strong I was able to make my immune system or where it's weaknesses may lie.  No worries though.  I go armed with pink bismuth, ciprofloxacin, and the knowledge that while some vodka is an acceptable anticeptic for small lacerations, it will not kill what dwells within the water.

So here I go, penetrating "deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness" ... with the hope of discovering all the light that has been previously overlooked.

In the event that you would like more general information on Tajikistan, I have included a few links on the left hand side of the page for your reference.  I would also recommend looking up Tajikistan in the World Factbook, but for linkage and perception reasons I will refrain from connecting my site to theirs.  If you have specific questions please feel free to comment here or email me directly and I will try to answer those questions in upcoming posts.  I have downloaded the app required for this site and will work on getting my phone unlocked today so I can use it outside of the US.  With any stroke of luck, this blog will continue to developed throughout my trip.  In the event that all internet fails and I am not actually able to access this thing while I'm there. I will write anyway and post things periodically upon my return.  How fun.  It'll be like living through it twice!

Thank you everyone for your continued interest in my travels, or at the very least allowing your computer to log on periodically, thereby convincing me that it's not just a mental health exercise to get these thoughts out into the world.

Much love and happiness,
Rachel

 

“My task, which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word, to make you hear, to make you feel--it is, before all, to make you see.”
― Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim