Step Into Columbia!

Stereotypical Columbia: coffee, cocaine, jungles and the possibility of guerillas lurking around the corner...
I just returned from an incredible six day group trek in the Columbian jungle where I, indeed, passed by coffee and cocaine fields before hiking to the ruins of Ciudad Perdida (literally the ‘Lost City’), set deep within a cloud forest. Ciudad Perdida is one of the largest pre-Columbian towns discovered in the Americas. Built between the 11th and 14th centuries by the Tayrona indigenous peoples, who were later exterminated by the Spaniards, this precious urban center was deserted and concealed by lush jungle vegetation. Only discovered again in 1975, the Lost City is now accessible to tourists via a six day hiking adventure.
At the entrance to the national reserve my hiking group was handed fliers with a description and picture of a wanted guerilla terrorist! Luckily, we only encountered a handful of travelers, and several indigenous families, along the trail.
Much of the trek is quite steep; taking a 100-meter ascent only to find that you must descend right away and then go right back up around the next corner. Six days of rigorous hiking certainly took a toll on my body and I was happy to retreat to mosquito netted hammocks each evening, which were hung in small shelters built alongside the path.
After several death-defying river crossings, clinging to a rope as my legs were battered by the strong currents, I was left feeling a bit weak and shaky. On one particularly difficult trail I tripped over some jagged stones, lost my balance and was sent soaring over a steep cliff with a 40-meter drop! Fortunately, some sturdy roots caught me square in the stomach, saving me from tumbling downhill. With my fresh new scrapes and multi-coloured bruises I continued scrambling over rocks and battling through rivers until I reached the legendary 1200 Steps. These intimidating, mossy, stone stairs rise from the river leading up to the enchanting Lost City.
Every one of those steps was worth it! Enclosed by a curtain of fog, we entered the mysterious Ciudad Perdida. Hand-carved stone terraces, which once served as foundations for the houses, loomed around every corner whispering the forgotten stories of an ancient tribe. The haze created a mystical atmosphere as we trudged along towards our camp for the evening.
By morning the fog had lifted and the enormity of the Tayrona metropolis was revealed. Leading the hike, our guide Ender, enlightened us with his extensive knowledge into the lives of this lost culture. Among these numerous facts we learned that the Tayronas had built their city at an altitude of 1300 meters in order to be closer to their Gods; the moon, the stars, the sun and, most importantly, poison dart frogs!
Back from my jungle trek, sipping a steaming cup of Columbian coffee, and waiting for my sore muscles and bug bites to heal, I contemplate the lost Tayrona society and the forgotten lives that once lived in harmony with this land. During my travels I have become conscious of the narrow-minded stereotypes placed upon this country and will never again associate Columbia with only coffee, cocaine and guerilla warfare. After this week long trek I am left to consider the abundance of lost stories that, if revealed, could facilitate the shattering of stereotypes and tell the vibrant tale of a land, now known as Columbia.

The Flavour of Venezuela

Down a crowed street, near the center of Merida, Venezuela I am indulging in one of my favourite pastimes: eating ice cream. However, what I am eating is far from any old, commonplace flavour - mushrooms with wine ice cream! Here in Heladeria Coromoto, a Guinness World Record ice-cream parlor, there are over 800 flavours! Among the wacky varieties you can try tuna, Guinness beer, chicken and pasta or even one titled Canada, although I’m not too sure what Canada is suppose to taste like…
Merida is an energetic town, seated in the valley of the surrounding Andes. As a major center for outdoor enthusiasts, Merida attracts tourists and Venezuelans from near and far to its friendly, tranquilo environment. My boyfriend and I are enjoying day-trips to the neighboring towns where old villages sprinkle the mountain side.

San Rafael de Mucuchies is my favourite because of its artistic history and peaceful atmosphere. There you will find a striking stone chapel built by Juan Felix Sanchez (1900-97), one of the most famous artists of Venezuela. Sanchez, an artist, philosopher, and architect, became famous for constructing sacred places where he utilized rocks to form his artwork.

After a sunny picnic lunch near the chapel, we discovered that our money had been misplaced. Without the funds to take the local bus we found ourselves sticking out our thumbs near the exit of town. I have hitchhiked frequently in developing countries, but it is always a nerve racking experience the first time in an unfamiliar place. Luckily, after fifteen minutes, we landed ourselves a ride. Every time a thoughtful driver extends their kindness I vow to help hitchhikers when and if I own a car in the future. It is a horrible feeling to be stranded, to be dependent on someone else’s charity. Nonetheless, throughout my travels I have always found people who, even when they have nothing to give, extend to me their compassion.
Our friendly driver, Omar, a cardiovascular surgeon, was born and raised in the surrounding mountain towns and had numerous stories to colour our two hour drive back to Merida. Meandering down the windy mountain road I caught snippets of village life. I saw farmers pushing their ox and yoke over green fields, naked children tottering after farmyard animals and women snapping damp laundry to dry in the sun. This lively, spirited way of life enveloped me while the amazing generosity of Omar warmed my soul.
Despite the fact that the big cities of Venezuela were impressive it will be the small, eclectic villages that I will remember most. If I were to imagine Venezuela as an ice cream flavour it would have to encompass the fresh mountain air with a hint of the green pastures, complete with a sun-drenched, velvety finish.

Couchsurfing the Beach!!!

We spent last weekend in Mochima National Park in Venezuela with a group of 15 couchsurfers, mainly from Venezuela, and a couple of Europeans. We had a blast on our secluded island camping, swimming, basking in the sunshine and sharing yummy foods. Here´s a couple of pics from our wonderful beach weekend:


This is the big group, energetic group before we loaded up the boats to head to our private oasis.

At the beach: Ricardo, me, Ricky, Deby and Alexandra.

This is our amazing host and couchsurfing friend Aarron! He hosted us at his family´s home and every time we turned around they were showering us with overwhelming kindness. Their house was a gorgeous array of his father´s artist talents from paintings, sculptures, big, airy open spaces and antique collections hung on the walls. We stayed in the daughter's room, who was away in India for three months. Her bed was a pre-colonial antique bed and her room was adorned in Indochinese decorum. We felt like we were staying in a museum! The garden was incredible with everything from jungle plants, parrots, mosaic benches and orchids. What a treat to stay with such genuine, giving people!

Ricky´s favourite Venezuelan cervesa! Solera by Polar Inc.

We are currently in gorgeous Merida, a mountain town far from the Caribbean coast. We´ll be here until Monday celebrating Carnaval! Viva Venezuela!!! We are Columbia bound next week. Hasta luego. xoxo

Venezuela: a land of contradictions

Caracas is my first South American capital, a love-it-or-hate-it kind of city, a place where terracotta slums expand up the surrounding hillsides met by stunning valleys and prominent modern architecture. Dizzying political tensions infiltrate every aspect of daily life, yet the weekend brings throngs of Venezuelans to the gorgeous coastal beaches to party and relax.

I traveled Central America alone last year and I am now psyched to continue my Latin American adventures, this year with my boyfriend. Life on the road certainly has its trials - the sight of devastating poverty, the arduous task of finding a cheap, safe hotel and continuously asking for directions, all the while wondering who is trying to rip you off and who is genuinely being helpful. Traveling over the last several years has allowed me to test my limits, to seek out cultures and habitats alien to my cushy Canadian way of life.

My first week here has left me with mixed emotions and a whirlwind of questions. It seems like for every delightful experience or kind-hearted person I encounter, I am met by an equal amount of sneering glances and crooked intentions. When I first arrived at the international airport I was bombarded by a crowd of frantic taxi drivers and money changers, all shouting their services at me, competing for my foreign funds. I had four hours to wait for my boyfriend to arrive and I felt timid amidst this sea of intimidating men. Luckily, I met a kind, English-speaking Venezuelan woman, who helped me exchange my US currency, book a hotel and figure out the frustrating vending machine system. I was incredibly grateful for her help and unabashed friendliness.

However, the following evening, after a delightful dinner downtown Caracas, I quickly learnt not to expect such genuine kindness around every corner. At 6:30 pm, one block from our hotel, we were stopped by a policeman, who was quickly joined by his two cohorts. They interrogated us about where we had been and why we were not carrying our passports. Hungry and unaware that corrupt officers were looming, we had ventured out for dinner and had not thought to bring our documents. They fired more questions at us and even searched us for drugs! We anxiously lead them down the street to our hotel where we showed them our passports and awaited our verdict. Before leaving they demanded all the cash in my boyfriend’s pocket. We felt violated but we were not about to argue with three hostile, gun-carrying policemen. What is happening in a country when the supposed law enforcers rob your trust and hinder your security?

These two incidents demonstrate the polar opposite vibes I am experiencing here. In the last two weeks every experience has either been exceptionally positive or particularly negative. I have seen the prominent scars of neglect and corruption on the streets, yet I have also met some extraordinarily compassionate people who have opened their hearts and showed me the splendor of Venezuela.

Adios Costa Rica!

It's hard to say goodbye to a place, it doesn't exactly hug back...

Before our alarm clocks ring, while we are still snug in our beds, the world is alive right outside the window! After missing the early bus Monday I managed to rise on time and catch the 5 am bus Tuesday, to the capital of Costa Rica. Feeling heavy with sleep and sadness I shuffled to the dirt road to meet the bus. My head felt fuzzy and my heart ached, but Mother Nature could care less! She is fully awake and more vibrant than ever! I couldn't believe how much activity was going on, that early, right outside my door. Nature is grooving at 5am, marvillosa!

Brilliant flowers and birds burst around me. Grey clouds turn pink, while chickens peak at the yard and my puppy friend plays at my feet, not aware of our rapidly approaching separation. The little, chubby yellow birds that I see everyday are perched along the fence, a regal salute before I wave down the San Jose bound bus. I can also smell citrus and cilantro rising with the sun. And was that a faint whiff of pinto, I caught, being prepared by the great mothers of Sandalo? Mi comida favorita!

Scarlett macaws and parrots squawk above while howler monkeys growl in the distance, a sound I was longing to hear, one last time.

The nine hour bus trip is long and intense, but I fought off sleep to take in the glorious sights and to breathe in the rain forest that was my home for a season. Layers upon layers of green, a blur from my bus window seat. It has rained all day, almost every day in October and the jungle is now in full force. Today the sky is steel blue, while a light fog rolls off the mountains in the distance, clinging to the surrounding cloud forests.

Costa Rica is a very hard place to leave. The last 4 months have been bliss and I will greatly miss all the wondrous sights, tranquilo way of life and all the loving people who have touched my soul.

While explaining where I lived to a woman I traveled with in Panama, she remarked, "You live in a magical place at a wonderful time, soak it in!" And I did. This magical place and time will forever live with me. If you fancy a glimpse, just ask.

Tonight I will be couchsurfing with my good friend Cyril, the ambassador for Costa Rica. Tomorrow I am Nicaragua bound, another land and people with so much beauty to offer. I will then be making my way Northeast to explore El Salvador and visit an orphanage. Lastly, on November 15th I will arrive in Guatemala City where I will be surfing more couches and partying at a big music festival in Panajachel! November 21st I will be flying home, a week in Toronto and then up to The Soo to try and make some money and join in the family festivities before continuing my adventures in Latin America.

Adios Costa Rica! Te quiero mucho y pura vida!!!

Sloth Action!

Meet Buttercup, a 15 year old 3-fingered sloth. She was the first sloth to be rescued by the owners of the sanctuary. She has lived with them for a decade and has met hundreds of thousands of curious tourists. Buttercup is a big showoff and dreams to one day escape to join the circus!



Meet Millie, a sleepy two-toed sloth who likes to cover herself with a towel to block out the light during her 18 hours of sleep a day.




This is Toyota, a lucky 3-fingered sloth who lost an arm when she was badly burnt by an electric wire. Sloths often climb telephone poles because they look like trees. Luckily, Toyota was taken to the Sloth Rescue Center in Costa Rica and now lives a life of leisure and fame.



Sloth babies are adorable! I spent 5 hours at the Sloth Sanctuary and fell in love with every one of these fascinating creatures. Since we are in Central America we got to play with them. It was bliss, I didn't want to leave. Some of them have lost their Moms, fallen out of trees, been found on the highway or have been tormented by kids who don't know any better.
The babies don't have Moms so they are put together to comfort each other. There aren't any teats to suck on so they suck on each others ears while they sleep! It is so CUTE! This is Taz suckling on Annie´s ear.


Sloth contact! Meet my favourite sloth, Taz! He was super soft and very playful.


Crazy claws!



Ricky hanging out with Piffany, of the 2-fingered variety. Piffany was eagerly awaiting the return of her friend who was being fed lunch close by. The vets figured out that, while sloths are solitary creatures, they really enjoy each others company and when they grow-up together they cry and become depressed when they are separated!



Oh, it is a good life! Sloths are the only animal I can think of that always have a smile on their face! I gots to get me a sloth!!!

COUCHSURFING

¨As a community we strive to do our individual and collective parts to make the world a better place, and we believe that the surfing of couches is a means to accomplish this goal. CouchSurfing isn't about the furniture- it's not just about finding free accommodations around the world- it's about participating in creating a better world. We strive to make a better world by opening our homes, our hearts, and our lives. We open our minds and welcome the knowledge that cultural exchange makes available. We create deep and meaningful connections that cross oceans, continents and cultures. CouchSurfing wants to change not only the way we travel, but how we relate to the world!¨

Trust, friendship and a couch or a similar space to crash for the night-these are the fundamental ingredients for any Couchsurfer. I have found an amazing community of travelers with a group called Couchsurfers. I heard about CS from a guy I met in a hostel in Mexico. I logged on to www.couchsurfing.com to check out what the fuss was all about. I was amazed to read profiles and stories from people who had traveled the world as a couchsurfer. I was even more intrigued by the people who rarely traveled but loved hosting other travelers in their homes.
CS was started by an American guy named Casey Fenton, who got a cheap ticket to Iceland for a long weekend. There was one problem: he had no place to stay and no desire to rot in a hotel all weekend and play Mr. Tourist. So, he came up with the 'brilliant' idea of spamming over 1500 Icelandic students in Reykjavik and asking them if he could crash on one of their couches. After exchanging emails with many of the students, he had several groups of friends offer to show him 'their' Reykjavik. So, after spending an amazing, crazy weekend just south of the Arctic Circle, Casey decided he would never again get trapped in a hotel and tourist marathon while traveling. From that point onward, it was all about crashing on exotic couches and cultural exchange. And, thus, the CouchSurfing Project was born.
When I first discovered this interesting community, in Mexico, I was a little hesitant. I started slowly by emailing people and just meeting up for coffee or a meal. I didn’t feel comfortable going into a strange home. It was great to meet local people, get suggestions for things to do around town and even practise my Spanish from time to time. It wasn’t until I arrived in Costa Rica that I really dove in and started staying at people’s homes and surfing couches.
The mission of CS is simple:
"CouchSurfing seeks to internationally network people and places, create educational exchanges, raise collective consciousness, spread tolerance, and facilitate cultural understanding."
I have met so many wonderful people in San Jose through Couchsurfing. Last month I stayed with the CS Ambassador of Costa Rica and he introduced me to his couchsurfing friends. His job doesn’t allow for him to travel very much but he says he feels like the world comes to him instead as couchsurfers share his home, space and social life for a few days at a time.
Is CS safe? This is a very common question with many answers. There are several precautionary measures in place for surfers and hosts. There is a verification system and a strong network of references. Also, everyone wants to be able to be part of CS and if they abuse the system or act outside of the CS mandate then it is the other couchsurfer´s duty to post a bad reference to warn other surfers.


I know there are many communities out there like CS, groups that open their hearts and minds, to share a part of themselves and provide a safe space to learn, love and grow. You probably have many similar types of groups and foundations in your very own hometowns. It could be the local farmer’s market, a church, a school, a sports team or your local coffee shop hang out. I feel now, more than ever, we need to join and reach out to these types of communities in order to ground ourselves and find ways to renew our conviction in human trust and friendship.
Travelling can often be lonely and it seems harder to find true friends. Couchsurfing has provided me with a neighborhood of like-minded individuals who want to promote genuine friendship and an open door policy. They have renewed my faith in the human race! For many years I have cursed technology, stubbornly refusing to adapt to the rapid changes around me. But now I can see how, even in a small way, the Internet and technology can provide me with an opportunity to get closer to people and meet some really caring individuals. I am looking forward to couchsurfing throughout South America next year.