Leap Day

At 6:57 am I awoke to the tapping of rain on the tin awning outside my bedroom window. On the exercise agenda for today: a seven mile walk with Latte Woman. Normal people, like myself, could have easily been persuaded to revert to 'Plan B,' the couch. We build shelters to avoid weather like this--cold and getting colder, gloomy and getting gloomier, wet and getting wetter. However, Latte Woman was gleaming when I arrived at her home, "What a beautiful day!" she exclaimed. She is a nutcase! I am in for it. The rain never ceased--it fell steadily throughout the jaunt, at points tormenting me by the increased volume released from the heavens. For nearly two hours we paced up and down the muddy hills, her praising the peacefulness while I wallowed in my misery.

I had the option to call the walk short at the halfway point... but knew Latte Woman would be disappointed. My competitive spirit was actually pulling for the other team--I wanted her optimism to destroy my pessimistic mindset. Or I am just an amazing friend?

Defeat was setting in at the six mile mark when a passing car slowed to politely asked us if we were crazy alright. At this point even Latte Woman admitted her chill factor was nearing unbearable. The temperature had dropped at least 10 degrees during the walk, making the 10 pounds we had accumulated in water weight more noticeable. Like any modern day, blogger girl would do, I had Latte Woman--the iPhone bearer--snap a few photos for posterity and a visual aid for retelling the story four years from now when the next leap year rolls around.

Home at last, I stripped in the garage--frozen (and soaked) to the bone, and quickly made my way to the shower. The vision I had of a wonderfully warm, cleansing rainfall did not meet expectations. My thighs began to emit this burning sensation; my fingers were completely numb. I cut the water off, dressed in four layers... and found the closest two blankets. I camped out on the over-sized brown leather chair with a book, coffee and a heaping bowl of oatmeal.

It was then I saw Mama H sick on the couch, which immediately meant one horrible thing: I was going to have to trudge back out in the downpour with Sir Louis, otherwise life with this energetic pup would be miserable.

The rain continued to dance outside the confines of our not-so-warm home all day. Earth to ill Mom: You might quite literally be under the weather as a result of your refusal to use heat when the thermometer reads below 40. I evaded exercising the dog until late afternoon when the rains let up. On this venture, I dressed for success and together we headed out... and not five minutes into our stroll we were being dumped on again. I was not happy about it. My (second) walking partner was thrilled--Louis happily putzed through the flowing river, that had become our neighborhood, as I grumpily slouched my booted feet alongside.

Having endured the weather outdoors for an eighth of the day, I never overcame my annoyance with the disruptive nature of this front on this particular day. Seems I am still searching for a remote where I can assert my power by flipping the channel to the crystal blue skies at my convenience. Of course rain is good, just not when I have outdoor plans.

World TB Day, 2010

Yesterday I came across this sobering article, from March 2010, on the declining average life span in Lesotho. Though I could have written this story with the statistics drilled into my head during Peace Corps training, these words left me in a fit of tears. The article presents three basic facts: Lesotho has the third-highest prevalence of HIV, fourth-highest prevalence of tuberculosis (TB), and ranks fifth among countries with the shortest life expectancy. Lesotho, an 'off the map' enclave of South Africa, was my home for 10 months--I lived these statistics.

My coworkers missed class to seek treatment at the clinic, an often grueling multi-hour walk from their home. My students missed school because their bodies were too weak to make the two-hour one-way trek to school. I tragically lost seven students (of my 199) in one three-month winter break. My middle-host-sister missed meals because the antibiotics--that made no progress--to fight her multi-drug resistant TB diminished her appetite. Her closest friend lost the battle to the deadly combination of HIV and TB. Instead of accepting death as a part of life, I grew numb to the idea. I struggled to conceptualize the epidemic, to find my place in the matter.

Then I walked away.

These words are convicting, challenging and yet somehow freeing to be reminded. My heart for service. My passion for global health. My love for Lesotho. These are not concepts I just want to lead a life talking about. I am compelled to do something. But what?

Travel-mate Strengths

When leaving for an extended trip to Central America with a friend I had been in the presence of a grand total of three days in the past three years, I will not hesitate to admit I was a bit nervous. In her defense, of all my friends, I figured she was one of three, I could handle for this extended period of one-on-one time. Though, it was of importance, my travel companion could also handle me.

As anticipated throughout the trip we were inseparable. For 38 straight days--from bumpy, hot and long bus rides to sharing a twin size bed in a hostel overcapacity to beach runs to mealtime--we were together nonstop. Recapping (the trip) in the hammocks on one of our last nights to giddy goodbyes from the Juan Santamaría Interational Airport, and, now, after over a week at home to reflect, I can report I had nothing to worry about. My college friend, K.F.A. was a fantastic travel companion(!!!).

This is why:

1. The girl loves to read. Not only does she love to read, we enjoy similar books... and read at a similar pace. She was wrapping up Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games trilogy (at my encouraging) when we arrived. (The Hunger Games details a futuristic society that is a great, great, great... great grandchild of the United States. Stop reading this nonsense. Pick up the series now. If you dislike even one sentence bill me later.) Then both of us worked our way through the Stieg Larsson's Millennium Series throughout the trip. This, in and of itself, left us with five plus weeks material to discuss. To boot she has a passion for learning unlike any I have witnessed, internet permitting she informed me about current events.
2. She is an early riser. She was willing to get up at 4:30 am if it meant catching the first bus out of town, 6:00 am if it meant squeezing in a run before the sun began to beat down on the landscape, or 7:00 am if it meant enjoying the beach at low tide.  
3. At some point during the day, preferably early, securing a cup of black fuel was her priority. There was no schedule for our coffee rhythm--cup in the morning, two cups at breakfast because the coffee was so delicious, cup in the afternoon, a third cup because it comes on ice, an after dinner cup. Her enthusiasm for securing daily java time, brewed from its origins, exceeded my own. 
4. Like me, she is all about tracking down authentic gems. We would scour the block (or town) two and three times in search of the "most local" place. Bus stops. Bicycle rental shops. The front yard of a host country national. The park kiosk. Make that two plates of whatever it is you are serving. 
5. She runs. We are both better people when we run, keeping motivation 'vacation level' high. And she is on the Jillan Michaels' bandwagon... which lead to more than one mountain climber/plank jack/plie-squat-jump session on the beach.  
6. If this list was in order of importance, K.F.A.'s cooking each and every meal we ate in, which was the majority, would definitely find its place at the top. I do not cook, I scavenge, therefore, without her I would have starved. (I do wash dishes, if that counts for anything?) 
7. And she was willing to go vegetarian... for an extended period to time... when she probably could have been eating delicious fish. The ultimate friendship sacrifice. 
8. She values snacks. And was willing to dice each piece of tropical fruit, which, holy moly, is a ton of work when Mom is not around. 
9. At Costa Linda breakfast, or anytime really, she was willing to trade papaya for bananas. This was not overlooked. (I have a major character flaw: disliking papaya. It leaves a vomit aftertaste I cannot get over.) 
10. She is a hypochondriac. This could easily be misconstrued as a negative, for me--it is the comic relief I look for in a friend. A cut on her finger required a trip to the hospital for repair. True story. A sore throat was strep. True thought. (The "strep throat" lasted four days.) A fall off a moving truck required an ankle amputation. True thought. (The ankle healed, after one night out of commission.) Diarrhea is going to dehydrate her to an early death. True thought. (She lived.) 
11. We share the same sentiment on smoking: STOP(!!!) people of the world. It is 2012, why do people under 60 still smoke? It is gross. Like so gross. You are gross. Because you smoke. Like so gross. Do not puff that in my face. I carry weapons.   
12. Using her knowledge of four languages, without asking she recognizes where nearly every traveler reigns from. This was fun for eavesdropping when the Germans were fighting. Or for identifying unique languages, like Dutch. Impressive. Most importantly though is that she can communicate--exchange conversation with the Danish girls or translate Spanish to English for me, her super lazy, very forgetful travel-mate.
13. This girl knows how to share. She lent me her phone at my disposal for texting my mom, checking email, and fancying up pictures with Instagram. 
14. I do not want anyone telling me I am dirty while traveling. I might have ran, swam in the ocean, and spilled watermelon down my face during snack... but I am sleeping in a tree house tonight, and I plan on waking up to repeat the days events. I am not dirty, I am simply less clean. She too showers selectively... 
15. but encourages handwashing. My friends at the Center for Disease Control and Prevention says handwashing is the best way to prevent illness and infection, and to keep from spreading germs to others. This is no joke in the developing world, when living or traveling--health is my priority. 
16. She has the best laugh in the world. And she laughs a lot. A LOT. 

This is my second list-y post this week. I am not into that, however, I value protecting the privacy of my travel-mate and friend. I share these details to give you a taste of our compatibility, thank her for tolerating my antics, and to acknowledge the fact I was not traveling alone. Now I can dive into the recounting, in which K.F.A. was there every second of the day--cannot iterate that enough, but please understand the opinions here are my own personal accounts and do not in any way reflect K.F.A.  From here on out when it comes to observations and opinions, in which I have many--it is "I" and "me."

Taking Steps

This year, 2012, is about taking steps, right or wrong, in some direction. I have been fortunate enough to be living under my parents roof for nearly 24 years and it is (past) time to branch out on my own. To achieve this major goal, landing a job will be upmost important. I am optimistic my time is coming. In the meantime, my immediate goal is to pass the time with purpose, as cliche as that sounds. I am confident in my ability to transition onto the "Adult Frontier," although equally confident there will be the inevitable slew of mistakes. One can hope these mistakes will be minimal.

Opening the year in The Crescent City was no mistake. I had a wonderful time ringing in 2012 with volunteer friends... taking a step in the direction of reintegrating--this time, with friends--now that most of us linger stateside. I want to recount the experience here, knowing full well I will not do the week-long trip justice.

I have been home from Central America for a week now, and I am not overly enthusiastic about writing. There are an overwhelming amount of joys to share; I cannot even begin to wrap my own head around the backpacking excursion. Part of it, I realize, is that truthfully I am horrible at adapting to change. It takes me a entirely too long time to reacquaint with friends, readjust to my surroundings, and reestablish my routine after breaking. My imagination (and a little bit of my heart) has this vision of myself as someone seizing the life of unemployment with zest. Someone 'taking steps' towards a career in the field--providing clean water to all of Africa's children--with the idealism of an inexperienced and spry young adult. Then there is the me I actually am: Someone amongst many with a college degree and limited talents seeking an income. Someone with a ton of passion battling to find my way onto the "Adult Frontier."

Leaving America for an extended period of time with the sole purpose of evading The Real World was also no mistake. The getaway has done wonders for my motivation. These sorts of concepts floated through my mind while away: Concept A) Traveling cost money. Money comes from employment. You need a job.; Concept B) I function much better on my own. To be 'on your own' you need an apartment. This cost money. You need a job.; Concept C) I thrive internationally, yet I like to have purpose when abroad--beyond "hike Maderas Volcano today." To work internationally, you need experience or a graduate degree. To get experience, you need to work. To get a graduate degree, you need to go to school. It is not that I have not been thinking along these lines for quite sometime, it is that I am thinking them a lot more now. This would be a step up in motivation. I digress.

At the encouragement of friends, I will give this recapping business a go. I was unaware of my popularity, and since I have always strived to be an audience-pleaser... I guess that means keeping up. I can handle it.

Now hopefully you understand why I have not blogged. No, not because I do not have time, but if I stop for awhile, there is so much more to write in order to catch up. I know that I do not have to, but I am genuinely excited about prospects of this year. OK, so maybe it also has to do with the fact I sometimes obsess over random and unimportant details. Maybe. 

I am (easing) back.

The tagline of this blog says, "Explore. Dream. Discover." And I assure you there has plenty of that going on in New Orleans, Louisiana, even before Costa Rica, Nicaragua, and Panama. Allow me to first disappoint you with an update on the goings of the past week before delving into the details I trust you are here to capture.

I have alloted a week--until today (Saturday morning)--to find my footing. During this time there has been plenty to accomplish/do/see. The one-week rundown:

1. Due to rescheduling, I was home in time to catch C.A.H. in the final night of A Tale Of Nine Princesses, the winter play at his high school. He stole the show in his role as Prince Charles. I am definitely not biased. I am concerned he has been type casted as the nerd--I guess that is why they call it acting. 
2. I have been busy human-sitting. Time to rebuild the funds. I cannot think of a more forced reintroduction to America than a Lady Gaga dance party with C.R.M. while sword fighting her younger brother, O.D.M., in Excess Toy Land. I cannot think of an easier way to earn money than journaling while E.R.G. sleeps her seven month old heart out. 
3. The vegan diet is being resumed. Needless to say, the traveling threw me off my rhythm. Not only is a cold-turkey transition from 38 days of gallo pinto con huevos to a dairy-less diet impossible, my mom makes it her mission to sabotage me by purchasing grocery items I cannot resist, like whole milk--an absolute favorite.
4. Do not underestimate the power of a day in front of the television. I never got this. I just dreamed about it. I have, however, watched three critical basketball games (Kansas vs. Texas A&M; Michigan vs. Ohio State; Michigan State vs. Minnesota) and four episodes of Dance Moms. 
5. Work to find a job is going. This is priority numero uno. This week has been mainly about networking with my neighbors... in conversation lengths greater than three hours. 
6. Louis celebrated his first birthday. And when I say he, I mean my mom subjected my dad to celebrating. C.A.H. sang his praises before school and would not return home before midnight on this "special" Friday, while I was in charge of providing the birthday walk. There was cake. Oh and presents. 
7. The Weather: Did I skip winter? Three days in the 60s. It is hard to complain about this... but as the season appreciator I am, it is going to be hard to welcome Spring without having enjoyed some time with Old Man Winter. 
8. I managed to squeeze in three runs this week, which is better than no runs. And three walks, which is better than no walks. I miss my exercise system.  
9. After traveling, I crave that first shower--the initial wash in my tub, with my toiletries, and a fresh towel awaiting me. Then I feel so flippin' clean, I forget to shower. This is inexcusable, following today. 
10. I saw Big Miracle with Mom on a whim this week, after fulfilling my need for Pinkberry(!!!)--a food fantasy whenever I am out of the country--while we evacuated the house for cleaning lady day. I was inspired by Rachel's character. I want to work on real projects--like saving three California gray whales. Where is my job that uses my passion to mobilize people?

If I eat solely vegan, run, and shower afterwards... life will fall into place, I just know it.

Happy FIRST.

Someday my prince will come...

and he is going to have a lot of competition.