Mark Travels

Eleven months ago, I left for Buenos Aires, Argentina only to now find myself in Cartagena, Colombia. After this most fluid, diverse, and change-filled year of my life, this “travel blog” shall end with one final post. Overall I feel good and it feels really nice to officially announce that I have finally been robbed of this monkey off my back. For years I have felt this figurative monkey, my intensely increasing desire to return to South America, to travel, to grow, etc. After so many unique experiences this year, perhaps it is not surprising yet fitting that two specific events did indeed involve me being robbed as well as actually having a real monkey on my back.

Days had passed since my parents met my brother and I in the highly unlikely meeting spot of Quito, Ecuador. Seeing my mother in that old, stuffy, exhaust filled bus, sharing her seat with an Andean woman and her two small children was simply something I never thought I would see in my entire life. We were on our way to Puyo, Ecuador, the Amazonian town where we would arrange our much anticipated jungle tour. After meeting our selected tour operator, and soon agreeing on stressed specifics such as having an English-speaking guide, spaghetti dinner, and fishing equipment (not surprisingly, none of which ended up happening) we were all set for our latest Lee family adventure.

With our very young non-English speaking guide, we began our tour which ended up being simply fantastic, complete with muddy jungle trails, wading through rivers, swimming to hidden waterfalls, a thin mattress inside a mosquito net, and a night time sighting of a tarantula and what looked like her 1000 babies. The next day, we arrived to the reserve Los Monos Selva y Vida, greeted by many playful monkeys and a caretaker whom apparently has had the issue of many monkeys on his back for many years now. Having these  mostly young and adorable monkeys jumping and swinging on your neck, shoulders, arms, legs, and exploring your pockets and backpack was certainly an experience not to be forgotten especially when we learned that this free range reserve served as a refuge for homeless monkeys of murdered mothers (where their meat is an expensive delicacy).

Weeks later, my brother and I arrived to the Colombian coast and the city of Cartagena. After a fresh and healthy withdrawal from the ATM one morning, we set off for Cartagena’s old town, to explore the truly beautiful part of the city, while allotting some much anticipated late afternoon beach time. Perhaps I was cocky, too comfortable, lazy, unlucky, or just plain stupid. Maybe the guarding of our bag like a mother with her newborn was a sign to the extra-quick thieves of this historic Caribbean town? All it took was a quick introduction of a new friend’s wife and baby and it was gone. The bag that sat on my lap for most of the hour we were there had vanished. We didn’t see it and we were not harmed, but gone was our cash, only debit card, camera, ipod, sunscreen, and two very nice Cuban cigars. What followed next is certainly now a strong memory including my rant on the beach, my brother’s face in his hands, and that long, stinging walk back to our hostel (having no money for a bus or taxi). As with everything, we soon began to get over the thoughts of our lost cash, photos, or treasured MP3s. Thanks to a next day cash advance on that otherwise forgotten credit card tucked deep in my pack in the middle of a hiking boot, we were ultimately just fine and things were back on schedule.

Maybe it was just fine, or even good that it happened for it wasn’t long after that I again realized what was truly important and how cash, electronic devices, or those finely rolled cigars have nothing to do with it. Through this and other experiences this year, I for the first time in my life genuinely realize that you don’t need money or things to be happy. You can be just as happy with less.

Two things this past year I have truly appreciated: Sharing and Affection. When I had, I gave, and enjoyed sharing something with someone. When I had none, I accepted, and again enjoyed sharing something with someone else. From all this frequent giving and and probably more receiving, I gained so much more than what appeared on the surface: experiences. What a number of truly lovely, shared experiences. I’ve also had the pleasure of giving and receiving numerous hugs, kisses, pats on the back, etc. from friends, students, bosses, acquaintances, and from many more. How nice to be acknowledged and to express positive feelings for someone through touch. How lucky I am to have spent time in a more affectionate culture.

Now following this past year and its countless events, memories, experiences, and characters from all walks of life, this blog comes to an end. Tonight I embark on a long overnight flight back to Buenos Aires, although this time not to see some-thing, some-place, or for any other reason than to see a very special some-one. So begins the next chapter in my life.

Thanks to all who have read, commented, and to all the special people who have supported me during this past year of what has been a real and true adventure.

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In my last blog, I was saying “Good bye to Buenos Aires” but in a minute, things changed. At the time I last posted, I knew there was only one possible way I could imagine myself staying longer, and that came in the form of a very special person. Instead of being a month into Bolivia at this point as previously planned, I chose to extend my time in Buenos Aires to not only get to know someone, but to become fully immersed in a culture I had already become familiar with. In just over the last four weeks, I have camped in the Sierras of central Argentina, attended a wedding in Bahia Blanca, and even recently started a short term sales job selling Spanish classes to the US.

I no longer feel like a tourist. Instead I feel like a foreigner not only swimming in a different culture but also spending considerable time under water, holding my breath. Although eight months may not be a long time, it sure is enough time to get a taste of how it feels to really live in a different culture. It has been challenging. I wonder at times who I really am here. Attempts at being funny, smooth, witty, articulate, or sarcastic, while mispronouncing words with my accent, pains my ego.

Before I left last September, I remember trying to predict the personal challenges I could face while out of my country. I kept imagining poor mattresses, dirty bathrooms, backpacks, and not having my power toothbrush.  Even though I still have my toothbrush (though now moving it manually), these things don’t compare at all to the difficulty involved in adjusting and immersing into another culture. I can only imagine how hard it must be to start a real life in another country. As rewarding as it has been thus far, I am finally starting to miss familiar things and miss familiar people.

In a few weeks I will leave Buenos Aires, something I know I’ve said numerous times, but this time is for certain. I have a date to meet my brother and another friend in Lima, Peru in June. After stopping at Machu Pichu, we will meet my parents in Ecuador in July, and will look to spend part of August on the Columbian coast. What a valuable result while exploring new places and new challenges from another country, to realize how much your friends and family actually mean to you. I have been fortunate to spend time here with good friends of mine who have joined me, and I am very much looking forward to seeing more of them and of my family. I also feel thankful for modern technology with the ability to connect on-line with so many people. To my friends, in what may have seemed like worthless conversation to you while you were at work, home, or on your I-Phone… to me has been a priceless way of connecting back to what and whom I currently miss.

I’m curious of how I will feel once I do finally leave here. I have met many influential people, made life long friends, and have recently had the pleasure in spending this brief time in my life, with a very extraordinary person. Undoubtedly, the Argentine culture is officially and forever now a part of me. I look forward to what lies ahead and to seeing people I love. My cousin mentioned to me recently,  “Mark, one day you will look back on all of this and it will seem way more surreal than it already is”. I strongly suspect he is correct.

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Some say that Buenos Aires is the New York City of South America. I would say I party agree. Excluding Brazil, Buenos Aires is the continent’s largest city. Taxis fill the streets that extend for miles with restaurants and cafes on nearly every corner. Dinner begins no earlier than 10:00 p.m. and the night life lasts easily until 6:00 a.m. (excluding after hour parties/clubs!)

In Austin, about a year ago, I remember sitting with my now friend, then Spanish tutor, during a routine session. She is from Buenos Aires and just for me, was enthusiastically sketching a map of her city and it’s best neighborhoods to live in. Her free-handed drawing, although interesting, meant little to my unfamiliar mind. Now, in just 6 months, for various reasons, I have lived for different lengths of time in no less than seven different apartments here.  Each apartment, in its distinct part of the city, would perhaps be a New York City equivalent to living in it’s Village, Mid-town, Soho, Brooklyn, and both the Upper and Lower East Side neighborhoods – but that again is New York, and Buenos Aires is still quite different from it’s so called North American counterpart.

In no other place outside of the United States have I spent more time, than Buenos Aires. The roommates I had for nearly three months, in a way could now strangely be considered my 2nd language parents. I look back because although I am choosing to leave, Buenos Aires has clearly made an impression on me. I find it curiously interesting how my relationship and opinions of Buenos Aires have consistently evolved, and how I potentially will always look back on it.

The well known stereo-type of Argentines, or of Portenos (those native to Buenos Aires) is that they are cocky and arrogant. I didn’t buy it. I figured that the otherwise more indigenous and less European influenced countries of South America were simply jealous. Perhaps they were jealous of their lighter skin, their cutting edge fashion, or simply the way they drink their coffee. Now, I do again recognize how and why stereo-types do exist.

Overall, Buenos Aires has been a great experience. I really like the way they speak Spanish and am not too bothered by my unconsciously acquired Argentine accent. I like always kissing my fellow friends here on the cheek, the sharing of the herbal drink mate, the ability to sit in a park for hours with friends, and of course the way they do their BBQ’s. I have enjoyed the culture from many heart filled debates, stories, and soccer, to the beautiful women who act is if they own the streets they walk on.

In all fairness, although I will these many things, there are many things I won’t. I won’t miss the snappy waiters, the rather closed unwelcoming groups, and this understood core belief that things are simply better if they are from Argentina (i.e. food, wine, women, etc). I certainly won’t miss the lack of coins in circulation, the long lines, and the un-interested people I have met along the way. Regardless, I am quite content with my time spent here, and the relationship I’ve had with this wonderful city. I’m sure I will forever speak to how Buenos Aires did indeed remind me of New York City, and how I truly liked the city and its’ people, and afterall, who doesn’t find confidence, and at times maybe arrogance, at least a bit attractive?

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The last few months have provided me an astounding amount of life-long memories. There are so many stories to tell, some good, some bad, and some just hilarious. In this time, I’ve traversed Chile, Argentina, and Brazil. I’ve crossed the Andes twice, have traveled in what must be over 100 buses, been to two of the continent’s three biggest cities, and have seen some of South America’s best beaches on each of it’s coasts. I’ve explored Santiago and rode the hitoric inclines while taking in Valparaiso’s amazing views. I’ve danced  the samba, experienced Bahia’s Afro-Brazilian roots, and saw the most amazing Carnival parade in Rio De Janeiro’s Sambadrome.

If it were at all even possible for me to list each and every city I’ve been to now, or to describe every historical monument, beach, park, or museum, it still may not compare to all the people I’ve shared them with. In this time, I’ve had the true pleasure of making memories with people I’ve known for only days, to people I’ve known for many years. This does nothing more than re-affirm my belief that it does not  just matter what you do in your life, but in whom you do it with.

So now after writing parts of this in several cities, I sit on a balcony in Buenos Aires, with my comfortable laptop in hand. I am here with a friend, and await another the end of this month. As I await my next visitor, I must attempt to plan out my upcoming months. My bank account is dwindling, and I now must enter into the game… a game so many traveler’s end up playing. The game is simple, and typically ends with a trip home. The game if played in South America, commonly takes travelers to a few selected countries: Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, etc – not only because of their inherent beauty, but because of its more affordable cost of living. I have decided to play this game, because I’m simply not quite ready to return, to the awaiting real world of mine.

Before I get ahead of myself, I was thinking back again. Since my time away, I have heard of frigid weather, plane crashes, and a wretched economy. I feel quite fortunate, although selfish, to have hardly noticed. Although I routinely find myself quite out of touch with anything involving the US, I did recently experience something remarkable. While walking near the Plaza de Se, in Salvador, Brazil (world’s blackest city outside of Africa) I was struck by a booth, with nearly adjoined Brazilian and American flags. Upon further inspection, I found this Salvadorean woman selling Obama t-shirts, with the words “Yes We Can”. When I announced I was American, I was astounded by the smile this brought to her face. After recent years, and stories of American travelers disguising themselves as Canadians, I must admit, that felt pretty good.

So we will soon find out how the upcoming months play out.  I am getting used to not thinking in terms of the five year plan as in my days past, but thinking in terms of the next week ahead. I soon must get organized, and must start living an even more simple lifestyle. I guess you could say I’ve got a game to play.

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I had no idea I would be so good at procrastinating with my blog, and for so long. I now am at a point in my travels where I have some much needed down time, no excuse, and on top of that, am yearning for a little sense of accomplishment. There have been so many great memories and stories to be told that unfortunately with so much time having passed, I have not much choice other than to briefly touch on what I have been doing since I last posted.

I believe that I posted just before our Route 4o bus trip. The trip was great, although long. Two-13 hour days in the Patagonia plains, on mostly dirt roads, was mostly memorable for the feelings of being so isolated from mankind. You know the feeling when you find it necessary to wave or acknowledge the sight any fellow humans, this was a big part of our experience along with sharing it with mostly strangers (aside from people we met up with again after spending the night with them in a room in Torres Del Paine). After two long days of travel, we arrived to Bariloche, Argentina on Christmas Eve.

What occurred the next 12 hours, was certainly one strong Christmas Eve memory that will never be forgotten. To summarize, we arrived at our hostel to find the table being set for about 3o people. Turns out that the hostel was having a Christmas Eve dinner, but somehow with us arriving as late as we did, were only directed to where we may find a restaurant in town. After walking all over, tired and hungry, searching for food, we were forced to recognize that Christmas means different things for different people, but one commonality is that it usually resolves around family, neither of us being remotely close to ours. After finding a restaurant, and being forced to pay more for a special glass of champagne that we didn’t want, our hunger was at least satisfied.

After returning to our hostel we found our room small and poorly arranged. Somehow five beds were squeezed into the room, with a bathroom attached right in front of our bunk bed (which was right in the middle, with 3 other beds wedged around us). To finish up this memory, lets just say that after starting out this hostel experience with not being invited to dinner on Christmas eve, we finished the night next to a 50-something year old German, who served as a rather unappealing roommate, to say the least. The room was stuffy, smelled of dirty old man, and the bathroom being so close to our bed was nothing anyone would care to experience. Needless to say, Christmas morning found ourselves sitting outside in the city’s plaza, mostly alone, and wondering where we would go from there. Oh yeah,  also really missed my family, being the first ever Christmas morning away from them.

Fortunately for us, our luck quickly changed and we were able to get into what I would say was our best hostel yet. The penthouse condo-turned hostel on top of the city’s biggest building was nothing short of amazing. New professional kitchens, clean bathrooms, and a balcony overlooking Nahual Huapi Lake, with snow covered mountains in the background is a sight I won’t forget. Needless to say, we liked the place so much, we stayed through New Year’s. We spent a lot of time there relaxing, cooking, and fishing in a way I had never had. After asking an employee of the hostel if it were possible to rent fishing gear and him telling me no, taught me a way to fish on the cheap. By taking a large tin can while wedging a piece of bamboo in the middle, combined with a certain type of fishing line, creates a very effective fishing apparatus. Needless to say, I spent a lot of time on the lake’s shores, passing the time by casting my fishing can in a way I never had, and in a place I had certainly never been.

From there, we traveled up to Mendoza, famous for it’s Argentine wines. After the economic collapse of 2oo1, the Argentine wine business soared, as good wine became rather cheap on the world’s market.  Mendoza served to be the final city my friend would visit with me in Argentina before her flight returned for the US. For this reason, we decided to splurge and get a hotel. I thought about things at that point, and realized it was the first time we had the privilege of having our room with private bathroom, complete with not only air conditioning but a television in at least over a month. It’s funny, and very rewarding when you have a chance to put things into a certain perspective. Before my recent travels, and looking back on the last few years, whenever I went to a city for whatever reason, I was the guy that made sure I was staying at a Hilton, Marriot, or Westin. I usually required to be downtown and preferred to have a room with a view. I hated when a hotel gave you plastic cups and not glass. Smiling as I walked into our own private bathroom in Mendoza was something quite rewarding as was waking up seeing international travelers carrying suitcases, not backpacks.

We spent our days there in the wonderful city parks, toured the wineries, and visited the highest mountain in the Americas: Mount Aconcagua, nearly 23,000 feet in the air. After two weeks in Buenos Aires, and four weeks traveling with me, Suzel left and I waved good-bye to her, not really knowing what was in store for me other than I was planning on going to Chile. I think I’ll leave Chile, being another country, another people, and another experience, to a new post. I’m also feeling good about this blog again… which I think for me, is a good thing.

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After leaving Torres Del Paine, we arrived back in Puerto Natales, Argentina. We were welcomed back by our hostel owner and we took the night and the following day to bask in our recent accomplishment. The next day we enjoyed pizza and a desert only to lead to what we realized to be food poisoning.

After a very long night in the bathroom, we slowly recovered and still took the next bus to El Calafate, a transport hub to other cities as well as a point from which people can easily access one of Argentina´s most spectacular glaciers, Perrito Moreno.

From El Calafate, our goal was to get to Bariloche as soon as possible. We were finally able to reserve the ever popular Route 40 bus, going north to Bariloche, via another mountain town, El Chaten. El Chaten was this very new, remote, and quite hip mountain town, a launching pad for trekkers wanting to see and climb Mount Fitzroy.

We did some trekking, but not because we really wanted to following our Torres Del Paine hike, but because it was what you did in this town. We did happen to meet up with some people whom we met along the trail in Chile which meant for some good times, laughs, and more memories with what we hope to be long-term friends.

It is interesting, this traveling world, and it´s associated subculture. It´s commonplace to hear people coming into your shared room, or leaving very early before sunrise to catch a bus. Sharing our living spaces with people from all over the world is something that comes with the lifestyle. I never realized how common Dutch and German sound, but now I think I can confidently tell them apart.

Anyway, we wait for our adventures ahead. Next up, Route 40 and the Patagonia plains for the next 2 days. It´s also a dirt road but the most scenic and direct way north, along the Argentine Andes.

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After leaving Ushuaia and Tierra Del Fuego, we took a 12 hour bus to Punta Arenas. We stayed the night in a rather run down place where a stern but nice Chilean women rented out rooms in her house for the night. The next morning after another four hour bus ride, we arrived in Puerto Natales, a launch point for Torres Del Paine trekkers. After some seafood soup, with a nice guy working on the bus, we arrived to finally find a hostel not already full. We stocked up on dried fruit, cookies, crackers, and chocolate and struggled to find information on trying to reserve our stays in refugions along the way, some of which being already full. By days end were all set and ready.

We left the next morning, and 2 hours later we arrived to the park. We paid our entrance fee and hopped on a boat which took us to one common starting point on the ¨W¨.

I now find it quite difficult to describe this trek. I remember each and every day so vividly. Some highlights (mostly for my own record and memory´s sake): drinking water straight from any stream, glacier grey, dorm views from lodge, valley frances, hearing parts of the glacier breaking off with the sound of thunder, camp Italiano, final two hours to Los Cuernos, cabinas, sleeping in to nearly miss breakfast, wine in a juice box, lazy 3rd day in the meadows, playing guitar with Brazilians, final day uphill, breakfast at Camp Chileno, Los Torres, and calculating the 50 miles we trekked.

To summarize the experience itself, travelers as well as most of the guide books consider this trek to be one of the best in all of South America. I would consider the trek to be of medium difficulty. We met people of all ages from all over the world. The scenery was simply amazing. The Paine Mountain system, is separate and much younger from the Andes, arising from volcanic activity from a different time period. Through out the hike, every hour or two, the scenery changed drastically. From open landscapes, forest, dirt, rocks, lakes, waterfalls, glaciers, rivers, snow capped mountains, grassy meadows, beaches, and some of the bluest water you could imagine, are some of the ways I would try to characterize the difficult task of describing such a visceral experience.  

I feel fortunate to have done such a trek. Although the Inca Trail in Peru is probably still more popular and more historical, I have heard this one is superior in terms of visual impressiveness. As a human being, typically focused on a such a large list of daily mundane tasks - it was nice to have such a simple although challenging routine for a few days. Being part of nature in such a dramatic way was not only rewarding, but mostly refreshing.

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Ushuaia, Argentina

So the real traveling for me has begun. My very good friend whom I knew while  in Washington, DC and myself flew from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia, Argentina last Sunday. Ushuaia is this quaint harbour town, reported to be the southernmost city on the globe, and now filled with tourists from all over the world. Imagine something like an old ski-resort town on the Oregon coast. Tourism is said to be down this year for obvious reasons, but I surely can not notice as all hostels appeared booked and restaurants full.

Upon arriving I began to think about how the next week or so may lay out. I had been so busy before leaving I hadn´t attained my desirable level of ¨pre-trip¨research.  Though not to worry, with the ol´standard Lonely Planet Guide and fellow hostel goers full of stories and information, the plan began to fall into place.

So the plan is this. We leave Ushuaia tomorrow for Punto Arenas, Chile – 12 hours by bus. Leave the following day for Puerto Natales, the launch pad for trekkers usually doing the ¨W¨ circuit, a four to five day hike, hitting some of the most spectacular scenes in all the South America.

After 2 days of cramming in some serious training hikes, I realized that the hiking in the Parque Nacional – Tierra Del Fuego, would already compare with some of the best hiking I had ever done anywhere in the US. My friend is a bit nervous about pulling off a hike of this magnitude. When she tried on her new boots for the first time and informed me that she had not done much hiking, I too was a bit concerned. But all is good now, after completing the hiking we have recently done here and feeling good about it today. Which has now brought me to the topic I shall adress: Hiking

What a great thing, walking for long distances over some of the Earth´s most amazing places. I will walk alot. Such a natural, soothing, cleansing, and purposeful thing to do. With that being said, the timer on the computer says I have been here for over 2 hours. Catching up on emails, chatting, planning, and writing this takes time. As I sit in this cheap chair, a great Moe. show plays in my ears, my back is beginning to hurt, and the air does not seem so fresh in here.

I will look forward to this upcoming walk, and to doing it with such a good friend. I think I will end with that for now. I want to go outside and taste that crisp fresh air again.

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When I landed here over two months ago, I did not have any definitive plans, and that was exactly the way I wanted it. When people here began asking me the ever so common question of what my plans were, I continued to give the same coined response: I told them I planned on crossing one bridge at a time. The first bridge was to find a more semi-permanent place to live, second, to take a few weeks of Spanish classes, and third, to find work. I of course knew I wanted to travel – When? I wasn’t sure, but I knew I’d make time.

I began crossing bridges. I found a great place to live, took nearly a month of Spanish classes, and have begun teaching English. I’ve even interviewed for other full time positions, outside of teaching English. As I began crossing bridges, my travel plans also started to take shape. Two of my closest friends booked flights to see me, and to do a bit of traveling themselves while here. The first very good friend, whom is arriving this Sunday, has the special opportunity to spend a little time here in Buenos Aires. Plans are for us to travel approximately for a month to Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego, Bariloche, Chilean Andes, Santiago, and Mendoza, just to name a few spots on the unofficial, unplanned, and vague intenerary thus far. She returns to the US the first part of January from Buenos Aires and in three weeks from that point, my second very good friend joins me back in Buenos Aires for a week. Following that, we made plans to spend some time in Brazil, leading me to my last week there, for Carnaval.

So that meant that I knew I would be traveling for most of December in Argentina, and most of February in Brazil. I also knew that I liked Buenos Aires and could see myself eventually spending more time here. In previous conversations with my roommates, it was apparent that they had as good of feelings for me, as I did for them. They originally told me that my current room would be available at any time that I was here in Buenos Aires. I liked that idea, because I like my room, my roommates, and my neighborhood.

Well, what I didn’t know through my gradual stages of planning, has become apparent in the last week and specifically more clear today. My roommates are moving. Good news was that they have invited me to stay with them, wherever they decide to live in Buenos Aires. Bad news was that they are going to her hometown, of Ushuaia, for the month of January to spend the summer with family, friends, and the outdoors. This now meant that my plan to regroup here in Buenos Aires for the month of January was suddenly a bit up in the air. My roommates were also simultaneously giving me a hard time for me scheduling my travels for December and not January in order to coordinate travels with them.

That is exactly when I realized that I had options, and that I was quite free to change. I realized I really had nothing to necessarily come back for in Buenos Aires during the month of January, other than a few new friends, and a few students that would be there upon my return. Hmm… options. A wave of thoughts overtook my brain for a few nice minutes. I thought about going on to the Northern region of Argentina after my first friend leaves me, Bolivia, and the idea of camping and fly fishing with my roommates in Ushuaia.

Then is the precise moment I realized how lucky I was. This is the very reason why I sold most of my belongings and left the routine daily life – to simply not have one. I vividly remember driving to one of my first jobs out of college. It was one of those perfect fall Ohio days, and the sun was shining brightly. I dreamed about the idea of being free one day, the day I didn’t have to report to work at a certain time, the day I could simply do and go as I pleased. I now am living that dream.

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As expected, keeping up with a blog, is not easy. So with my intentions of not letting a week lapse between postings, it happened and I don’t really have an excuse. So with today’s Sunday afternoon post, I hope to concisely report what I think has basically happened over the last two weeks: the start of a cultural adjustment.

I think what has contributed most with to this is not only the seven weeks I’ve been here in Buenos Aires, but with the relationship I’m forming with my roommates and their friends and family. I feel fortunate and pleased with the decision I made to choose this apartment, and with them to live, all based on only a few short seconds upon meeting (see must read Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell).

In the past weeks, I’ve enjoyed Argentine style meals, asado, wine, and more, among the company of my roommates and their friends. I routinely do Yoga and now find it completely normal for me to kiss other men on the cheek, each and every time we see each other. I’ve traveled by bike across the heart of Buenos Aires and it’s widest avenues among the chaos of their traffic system. I’ve played basketball, soccer, and pool – which specifically had some very different and strange rules than I was accustom to. I no longer miss Whole Foods, and have become friendly with the young Peruvian guys whom I buy my vegetables from nearly daily. I know which direction to head if I need bread, a newspaper, fish, and where to pick up the nearest colectivo (bus) most suited for where I need to go. I scored a ticket to arguably the biggest soccer game in Latin Amerca: Boca Juniors vs River Plate. I even find myself checking the local standings at times. And just last Friday night, I told a taxi driver that he was ripping me off, and how I felt about it. Tourist looking perhaps, but tourist I am no more.

I also start working this week. After meeting this guy downtown over coffee, he hired me with nothing more than a firm handshake and the promise of cash. I will not be paid nearly what I would be in the States, but I’m happy with it (something in me my Dad instilled). I’m taking on one day this week of 5 English classes which will be weekly and will interview with other institutes in the upcoming days.

And then there is the language here. In my life thus far, Spanish has been Spanish. It basically applied to any Spanish speaking country and although I was aware of differences, it was basically the same to me. I now realize that this was a naive and uninformed position. The Spanish here is hard. They speak very fast, hardly pronunciate, and have this accent that is like nothing I had ever heard. To make things even more complicated, they use a unique Spanish verb tense (Vos – instead of Tu) Vos has a completely different way of conjugating, and I of course was never taught this, nor ever had any practical use for it.

But, as expected it’s improving. Slowly and steadily. I now have the confidence that if I want to listen and understand something, I can and now will. Group conversations are still a challenge but getting better.  As I am contributing more to discussions, stating my viewpoints, and now more often at times defending my background and views as an American, my Spanish is clearly improving. Which brings me around to the title of today’s post. As I sit here today, I realize that recently in my life I have considered more and more of myself as a World’s citizen. In speaking to many locals, foreigners, travelers, and students since my time here, not one has expressed his or her support for McCain. I have been astonished by the coverage this American election is receiving internationally and how it is perceived through the eyes of the world. I can assure you from first hand experience that the U.S. relationship with the world has been badly bruised in recent years. Osama bin Laden now has double the approval ratings the U.S. has in Afghanistan. I realize now more than ever that this election is not just about electing a president, but about electing the most powerful man on Earth. The world’s polls show that they are in favor of Obama by a 3-1 margin. Imagine a world in which the world actually decided who gets this most powerful position.

So there it is, I think about this, and how I hope this ever so important election for the United States will turn out. The sun is shining brightly and spring is clearly in the air. I also need to re-fill my mate gourd.

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