Are you a "Gringo?"

How to spot a gringo in South America...

-If you have to ask...yes you´re a gringo!
-Do you own a money belt? Yes...you´re a gringo.
-You´re a gringo if you thought enjoying Cartagena´s beaches came with free massages...and despite the pregnant women´s assurance, the first leg may have been free, but only gringos´ let her go for the other.
-Do you travel with a neck pillow? Yeah so do I, I´m a gringo too!
-When a local says "excuse me, sorry" as they pass in between you...they know you´re a gringo.
-Did you just ask for ketchup?  Definitely gringo!
-If you sit down at a restaurant and you pick up the menu to find it´s the English version...yeah, that menu is for gringos!
-When eating, do you switch the fork from one hand to the other after cutting your food? Yup, gringo.
-How about dancing...do people stare, laugh, or walk away? You might be a gringo!
-Have you ever gotten off the overnight bus an hour outside of your destination because the town you stopped at was named the same as your desired street address? Gringo!
-Did you get sunburned? You need sunscreen gringo.
-Do you haggle prices not realizing they amount to pennies of a discount? Very gringo!
-Are people starring a you? It´s probably because you´re dressed funny, like a gringo!
-After buying something at the store and after the clerk told you the amount...if you just hold your hand out with a bunch of money...you´re a gringo.
-Were you one of the two lite-skinned men running around Cuzco wearing no shirts in 50 degree weather and chasing around kids with cans of colored foam? You´re a gringo named Jason or Berkley!
-Ever wonder what the waste basket next to the toilet is for? Yeah, you´re a gringo.
-Did you ever get sick from food or water while in Peru? Yeah so do the locals. You might NOT be a gringo!
-If you are ever standing in a Spanish speaking group and you hear someone say gringo but you aren´t sure who they are referring to. They´re referring to you, the gringo!
-Were you that crazy chick chasing around a well dressed waiter in the streets of Huanchaco screaming obscenities? Yes? Oh, then you´re definitely not a gringo...but were you watching and shocked? Then yes, you are.
-Do you sleep on overnight buses with an eye mask and or earplugs?...Gringo!
-If you have to ask how much the local bus fare is...you´re a gringo. It´s posted on the windshield!
-Are you still hungry after a meal at a restaurant? Then you´re a gringo.
-While at a Brazilian all-you-can-eat steak house, did you order a glass of milk because you ate some hot peppers in your self-made salad? You´re a gringo, and now your waiter knows!
-Did you complain because the milk was warm? haha, gringo!
-When asked questions in Portuguese do you respond in Spanish because they didn´t understand your English? That´s gringo.
-While staying at a hostel have you ever fallen off the top bunk in a six person dorm...twice in the same night? You´re a concussed gringo from Oregon who has a drinking problem.


***Please add to this list!***

Puerto Iguazu (Falls) or "Cataratas"

This is an amazing place. It´s hands down ten times better than Niagara Falls. Keep in mind that these photos and my experience occured at a seasonal time when the water level was exceptionally low.  Despite this, I was still astonished.  The staff was wonderful, the park was extremely clean, and well marked. The only downside to this experience was that I was completely alone. Other than the thousands of tourists I didn´even have a Hostel-mate to walk around with.  So I did the the next best thing. Put in my headphones and rocked out to music under the sun.

I was fortunate to have amazing weather.  There are two sides to the park and I was exploring the Argentinan side as opposed to the Brazilian one.  The vegetation was tropical green with flowers blooming and birds chirping.  There were "Coatis" or racoon looking ant-eater things that scavanged the grounds looking for discarded food...these little dudes were getting into people´s bags, crawling around their feet, and being shewed off at relentless rates.



The falls were so beautiful. Two main sections but the Devil´s Throat was more like Niagara.  The power and sound was unmistakeable.  I found myself listening to some good tunes and just staring for hours. These pictures don´t do it justice...

To: Morgan (on Facebook a few weeks ago)

***This is a message I sent to Morgan on April 11th about 30 minutes after arriving to my friends house in Buenos Aires or BA.***

Ok ok...it all started yesterday.

Jeremias said it doesn't take long to get to the bus station...I asked are you sure? How long 10 minutes...ok cool...I need to be at the bus station by 9:30 bc we leave at 10am...

Wake up at 8am...shower get ready...starting to rush cause I have to say goodbye and its now 9:30...shit! Where are my sunglasses? ok go back into the house...running around..can't find em...ok screw it...just sunnies, they can be replaced...hop in the car...its 9:38...Jeremias says...Jason do you have any money for gas? WTF????  Ok heres 10,000pesos $20 bucks...He drives so fast up the freeway dodging cars left and right, like Gran Tourismo....we get into the city and its like 9:50... "probably not going to make it dude!"

So I run through the myriad of bus counters at the south station...say "Buenos Aires"...the guy points to his watch and shakes his head...which terminal..26! OK I run out there...a bus in 26...says CATA, "oh wow they haven't left yet" 10:14...Drop my bag down for the guy to load it....I say "Buenos Aires si?" The guy says "no...it left already"...

*Some really loud swear words found their way out of my mouth*

Then the driver says...come with me (all of this is in Spanish by the way, except my swearing)...I follow the driver back to the counter...asked about "Cambiars" and what not...really fast and I didn't catch all of it...but I know that I am going to get a lift with this guy and then catch up to the correct bus....

Wow! How lucky....this Driver lives in Buenos Aires so he has to change seats with the other driver of my "actual bus" at the "frontera" or boarder of Argentina and Chile...what a blessing in disguise...so lucky!

In the rush and during the chaos I eventually get to the boarder like 2 hours later...still not sure if this going to work out and I'll have to stay another night in Mendoza...but sure enough...the CATA bus, a bit nicer by the way, was there! All of the passengers were in line going through immigration and what not! Stoked!

I'm on the correct bus now...headed for Buenos Aires...and we eventually stop around 7 pm to rest our legs and take a break and buy some snacks....well I only have Chilean Pesos...and with the rush and everything I didn't have a chance to exchange my money at the boarder....so like a little puppy dog looking into the snack shop, I'm salivating, so hungry (cause the sandwich they gave me on the bus has Mayo which I wont eat lol).

I asked around if I could exchange some money, no luck, "todos cerrados". This is about the time a short, wealthy, multiple gold-ring-wearing Argentinian pulls out a wad of $100 American and Argentinian pesos....he slips me a 10 spot (pesos)...I buy a large water for $7.50...I offer him the change back and he said "tranquilo" ...I showered him with thank yous and hand shakes. What a Legend!!

Little did I know...but that $2.50 of change that he let me keep would save my life!...

Back on the bus, happy and watching free movies through dinner....pass out for a couple of hours and bam! The lights are on bright as day...it's only 5 am and the announcement comes on that we are approaching our destination. They brought coffee and cookies around to everyone.

We stop. The conductor makes another announcement...something about "pardon...tienen pacencia...este es Moreno"...still groggy and slow, I thought nothing of it. Then my Spanish speaking amigo sitting next to me, whom I had an amazing and coherent conversation with the evening before, says isn't that your street? Moreno? I'm thinking yes, is this it...I had a list of directions written down to find my friends place in BA...sure enough "Avenida Moreno"...but no one is getting off the bus...(1st clue)

I go outside and ask the conductors about my address and the directions...I had left my bag inside on my seat (2nd clue-listen to your instincts) thinking this can't be the stop. The conductors hurriedly said yes this is Moreno street, I don't know your specific address but this is Moreno Street...they pulled my big pack out of the back of the bus as I was showing a heavy-set driver of an un-marked taxi cab (3rd clue) my hand written directions...he said "dale dale" or come on as if he new exactly where I needed to go...I stood there as he loaded my bags, watching my luxury two story bus drive off into the darkness...

I get in the cab, explain my directions to this "cab driver" and we sit there for 5 minutes bantering...he was trying to read my directions from top to bottom...I explain to him that these are a couple of different options on how to get to the address, this number and street are the only important things....he drives down the street for 2 blocks...stops at a busy intersection in the middle of the road and gets out of the car and goes to ask a local store manager for directions...

This is right about the time when I start really feeling stupid..talking to myself alone in the cab..."yeah dude, you only have 40,000 Chilean pesos, that's 80$ American...what the hell are you going to do? Bro! You have that $2.50 Argentinian...how much could this cost...?" (4th clue) I also realized that I can't really understand this guy well and for that matter the conductors of my bus a few minutes ago either...hmmmm..."oh yeah you're in Argentina...they speak with different accents and words" (5th clue).

Cabby returns says he knows where the intersection of 9 de Julio and Moreno are...."good I should hope so you're a taxi driver..." We arrive...I look around...massive amounts of swear words come out of my mouth!!!!!!

9 de Julio is suppose to be a busy 13 lane road in downtown BA, not this one lane back neighborhood street. I ask the driver "hay un metro muy cerca?" ..."si, un tren"...I respond "estacion Retiro"..."no no no amigo, falta" (6th clue). This sketchy looking neighborhood and shady looking people out and about started to get a bit more scary..."es seguro?" he says not it's not safe for me to be out here alone...ok cool, thanks bro!

He drives me to the train after we figure out that I am not even near downtown BA (still dark outside) and that I have to take this train over an hour into the city. Turns out...Moreno is a small town on the outskirts of BA...Ironically the same name of the street on which my friend lives...also the reason that no one else got out of the bus but me...also why the taxi driver was so confused with my address.

At the train station now, I try to further communicate with this guy...failing miserably....he gets out and walks me to the ticket counter, purchases my ticket with his money (now he knows I only have Chilean pesos) and walks me over the foot-bridge to the other side where I am supposed to board. Keep in mind that I can't really understand this fast speaking mumbling man very well and I have total and utter trust that he is leading me in the right direction (what other choice did I have? Stay in the sketchy town till sunrise?)

I shake his hand and try and leave, thinking to myself. "Wow this guy is really nice...realized he made a mistake having me leave my bus and then buys my ticket into the city.." (7th clue- people aren't always that nice)

He then stops me and says I need to pay for the trip...ok how much? I only have Chilean pesos...he says I need to pay 20,000....which is like 40$ American....are you kidding? That's expensive, "muy caro"..he explains that half of my 10,000 peso bill is for the train ticket..."Ok whatever...the train is leaving I need to get into town, I'm tired, can't understand you, and I'm getting upset...it's just money, a traveler's tax for being an idiot Jason!" (I later find out that he needed 20 Argentinian pesos, the equivalent of 5$, I gave him 40$)

He leaves...I'm standing...back to front with a packed train-car stuffed with people...half sleeping and half dressed quite dodgy...smell of weed...mounds of trash outside as the sun rises...lots of people in the streets..."where am I even going"??????

I ask a respectable looking man...he spoke slowly, clearly, and with concern for my well being...he explained the "Retiro" isn't at the end of this train...but that I need to take a "collectivo" to that station...number 111...ok now I have to trust this guy...an hour and half later...we get to "Once" the last stop...the guy gives me a head wave to follow...he said I'm passing by the bus, follow me and I'll take you there..."wow this guy is great". He wished me safe travels...

Keep in mind...this is all happening with a 40 lb pack on my back and a 5 lb day pack on my chest wearing cargo pants...I'm also the tallest person in South America and blonde...I kind of stick out.

The bus number turned out to be 101, but the guy walked me to the right place...I get to the "Retiro" and now I'm at point A. The point where I should have been left off the original luxury bus. At first, I hated Argentina. I was so jaded and vexed bc of my experience that I wanted to leave...thinking just book  a bus to Brazil and get on with it...But as I traveled in the small "collectivo" I started to see the real city...It's beautiful and probably worth a chance!

I asked around and figured out that I needed one more "collectivo" to get within 3 blocks of my friends house...Finally! It's now about 8:30 am.

The funny thing was that each "collectivo" cost $1.20 Argentinian pesos...and there weren't any exchange companies open or ATM's nearby...remember I had $2.50 left over from the nice guy at the pit stop...how funny that it worked out, just barely!

Missing my bus from the beginning was obviously not a good start, but you would think after 2 1/2 months of traveling that I would have had the foresight to stay in the bus till my destination (despite crazy half-brain ideas from people whom you can't fully understand bc of the language barrier).

I'm here, safe and sound. Not without a fight, but I'm here!

"Me Casa es Tu Casa" Santigao, Chile

I got off the bus around 6:30 pm.  I'm in the heart of downtown Santiago, which is quite possibly more congested, chaotic, and noisier than any airport in the world, "es possible!"

The plan was to call my buddy Jeremias upon my arrival.  Well I had his phone number but I didn't have a phone.  I was planning to ask someone on the bus to borrow their phone.  The problem with this half-wit plan of mine was that we pulled into the South Terminal quicker than I was anticipating.  I was so engaged in my book, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, that I failed to notice the massive city surrounding me.  Half the passengers were already off the bus by the time I realized I was at our final destination.  No cell phone for me..."Where's a pay phone?"

***The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy is an ironically fraught dry English satire that is a perfect read for the world traveler.  Dad, you'd enjoy this witty humor. It's an easy read and reminds me of Monty Python hilariousness. No! They are not paying me for this plug.***

Again, walking around a presumably common petty theft transportation area dressed in Gringo carrying two conspicuously large bags.  Every travel guide book in the world has a disclaimer regarding transport areas!

I have plenty of cash.  In fact I just went to the ATM in Pichilemu and have an amazing amount of $10,000 peso bills.  But only one $100 peso coin, which is the exact change needed to make a local area phone call.  Slip my coin in, nothing.  Damn thing ate my money, not really surprised.  A couple swear words later and I'm  crossing the street for an internet cafe.  Normally, I wouldn't let something like a lost coin fluster me but I knew that a massive two day music festival was in session and that every hostel in the area was booked solid.  So I had nowhere to stay except at Jeremias', who graciously offered me his couch.

I facebooked Jeremias and he immediately responded.  Thank god for technology.  He instructed me to take the metro to a specific stop, where he would pick me up in his grey Jeep Grand Cherokee.  But I had to hurry because he needed to play a soccer match.

Comfortable with the metro and my instructions, I was off.  It was going to be close.  I told him to just leave me there and go to the match if I was causing him to be late.  I had his address, I'd be fine.  I pop out of the "Manqehue" stop, go to the wrong side of the street, wait 5 minutes, decided he left me, asked a stranger for directions, no luck, kept walking around the area...then I spot him!

"Jero!!!! Whats up bro" as I quickly walk up to his car.  He gets out, gives me a kiss on the cheek and a massive hug.

**Now, I need you, the reader, to bare with me for a second here...get your mind in a sentimental place...somewhere you go after watching...lets say...Forest Gump when he's holding dying Bubba in his arms...ok you there yet?**

Literally kissed me on the cheek.  For an American, it's a rather uncommon experience.  Usually a hug will suffice.  But to be honest, a hug wouldn't have sufficed here.  I was so glad for Jero's affection, so thankful, so pleased.  The kiss on the cheek from Jero is a perfect metaphor that captures the gracious, hospitable, and loving immersion that he and his family privileged me to.  I've been traveling around this continent, alone for much of the time, and I feel vulnerable, distant, and unwelcome at times. You know, the typical tourist dynamic.  Having that greeting from Jero will truly be one of the best memories of this trip. * Morgan, I miss you. Remember Forest and dying Bubba please haha.*  I'm dwelling on this moment selfishly, knowing that you are my audience and possibly don't share this sentiment I have for Jeremias.  But when I read this blog in 20 years I hope it elicits some emotions when reminiscing about my trip.

This gesture is very common in South America.  My short 2 months here has only previously subjected me to the opposite sex cheek kiss.  But here in Santiago, I came to find out, that men press cheek to cheek as well.  But the kiss, seems to be saved for the closest friends, and family.  Jeremias and his Dad always kissed hello and goodbye.  A bond and show of affection that is amazing to witness.  I'm finally exposed to the true cultural Latin American care.  I've heard of it, frequently in fact in school, that Latin Americans are more communal and caring for their family and fellow patrons.  Until now, I hadn't experienced it.

We were late to the soccer match.  Despite his previous obligation, Jeremias waited for me. A true friend.  Thank you bud! So I watched him and his team get murdered by some amateur futbol team. It was great fun.
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"My house is your house, my wife...is not your wife...hahahahahahahahah", we all three laughed uncontrollably.

This was my introduction to Jeremias´ step father, Raul. He is a successful engineer, has a great sense of humor (obviously), and an immense amount of generosity.  Seriously Raul, thank you so much for everything you´ve done for me.  I´m truly indebted to you.  And I promise to make a magnificent two week California tour guide for you soon!

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It was a complete 180 degree twist from what I had been experiencing for the past two months.  It´s extremely common, almost religious, to have a live in house maid.  Juanita! A very short Peruvian women with all the kindness and patience you would expect. Every time I walked into the kitchen Juanita was there. Willing and eager to assist me on making my daily (possibly hourly) black teas, she practiced Spanish with me and laughed at all of my Gringo tendencies and hesitations in her domain. She washed my clothes too! My whites were actually white, and my clean clothes smelled as if it were true! The red wine stains on my white Colombian linen pants came out, loved it! You´re the best Junaita!

180 degree twist. I could drink water from the faucet. No more lugging around massive 2 and 5 liter water jugs from the grocery store. There was a fridge full of food, drinks, and it had a freezer!  I had a hot shower. Not my first one on the trip, but it was the most consistent and cleanest shower of the trip. I didn´t have to wear my flip flops!  The toilet was clean, didn´t smell, and had enough power to take down TP. That's right, I could flush the toilet paper...don´t balk, this was a revelation! At first I was frightened to try. We´re creatures of habit and I wasn´t sure what to do at first. There was a bin next to the toilet, usually filled with TP at lesser establishments. But this one was spotless, had no plastic bag lining, and seemed to never be used.  "Dude, you should just go for it. The worst thing to happen is you have to fetch a plunger from Juanita.  But if this works man, you´ll be a legend!" I thought to myself sitting there with my pants around my ankles. I am now a legend!

I spent my time traveling around with Jeremias and his sister Daniela in their cars. It was a weird sensation being in a car. We avoided traffic, picked up friends, and darted around buses. Buses that I previously was confined to. I was taken to lunch where I tried a "cordiera sanwhich" and had my first Gulden Draak Belgium beer (a must try for beer lovers). I tasted my first "Piscola". This was Pisco, a hard liquor derived from grapes, mixed with Coca Cola and ice. Very strong and suspiciously easy to drink. I ate candied walnuts or chestnuts or something. They were sweet and soft and you added sweet cream to them, divine! I had patè on bread. Meat paste that looked almost purple. I had heard of it and I´m sure it´s common in the US but still a first for me. I was treated to local favorites like "piala mariscos", "Rollado de Chancho", and "Pastel de Choclo." "Manjar" was like carmel but made with milk instead of water...Dulce de leche. Put it on anything, literally anything!  I attended my first Chilean BBQ´s.

At Miguel´s, Jeremias´ Dad, we had BBQ´s that lasted through the night.  A massive grill and two bags of charcoal was the base for an all night eating frenzy. I was smitten.  Having previously been subjected to food on a budget, which entailed cheap street eats, random celebratory splurges, and illness, I was taking full advantage of the feast. I ate and drank till my stomach was about to burst. Thank you so much Miguel for laughing with me, letting me spend the night, and feeding my insatiable appetite. "Very mucho rico comida" was my drunken quote that made everyone laugh out loud.  It was a week of many quotes as I butchered the language, unveiled my Gringo quirks, and did my best to be grateful.

The days carried on like this. Hugs and kisses, laughter, and lots of culture. Miguel, Jeremias, and the rest of the family would tell their friends of my food conquering displays.  The hospitality continued to unfold as I was treated to local restaurants, foods, and bars. I spent some time with Daniela in here lovely Cafe, Ana Luisa Cafe & Bistro. She would´t let me pay for my lunch and coffee or the dessert. Spoiled i was! This was my life for a week in Santiago, Chile.


   

An Adventure

I hardly finish lotioning the bottom half of my right leg to run to the release of the head writing I was experiencing.

In the shower, a thought rolled its way in a looping loop inside the top of my head. I could almost feel its motion. I made it out of the shower and almost fully lotioned before giving in to this head writing thing I got going on her. The looping thought...This isn't all that there is. This isn't all there is. This isn't all that there is.

The feeling I have been carrying lately is surreal. It's spastic, it's giggly. It's a bouncy feeling that makes the shadows from my feet float right off of the ground as I go skipping along. It's hearing that we are all waiting for our lives to start. And mine just has.

I'm thrilled to travel. I'm excited and nervous. I have been running out the hot water every day and using way too much shampoo. (Sorry Sarah.) The realization, the epiphany..as I was taking advantage of my long shower, just hit me. Just like that. This isn't all that there is. There's more. There's an entire world out there that I have not even scraped the surface to an understanding of. Not that I think traveling will give me some sort of absolute understanding or that it will answer all of life's questions. Life will always have questions, it's just our way of choosing to deal with the uneasiness (that too much thought can carry) that counts. I think that traveling will remind me that life is suppose to be an adventure. It will teach me to live out of a backpack (for three+ months.) It will teach me that I can live with no jewelry, no closet full of material options. It will teach me to be even more grateful for my daily hot showers and fresh towels and clean sheets. It will take away my physical privacy and force my mental privacy to possibly consume. But there is no fear, because this isn't all that there is. Fear is not all that there is. Nothing is ever all that there is. So, for now, I will choose adventure, lace up my Merrell's, and stink to the phrase I love most...

(No, the phrase is not 'this isn't all that there is'...)

.......

...The purpose of life is to enjoy each and every moment.

(Thank you Yogi Tea for all of your wise words.)

(...And for making such good tea that I have a drawer literally full of your delicious tea bag fortunes.) 

Seven days until I'm in Singapore!!!!!!! (WOooooooooHHHOOOOoooooOoo!!!!!!!)