T-Minus...

...11 days left in Seattle, on this, 10 minutes from the decade anniversary of my move to this wonderful city.  I just went through all my boxes, again, in an attempt to purge more of my shit and I'll be honest, I'm starting to freak out a bit.

June 3rd, this blog will no longer be on "vacation," which is exciting and terrifying all at the same time.

Happy King Moshoeshoe Day!!

Today in Lesotho is the equivalent of the 4th of July in the US.  Daddy, Tessa and Megan and I will be celebrating in only a fashion we could in this country - trying to over take a bar's sound system to play ZA house and traditional Basotho music, while we stick dance w/ a Manny's in hand.  Let's see if we encounter success!  Come on 9lb!!! :)

To repost a goody that houses the most beautiful memory for me:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0AHO6WoAeK0

In honor of all those we love on, quite literally, the other side of the world:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hAibpGHesg4

AND for the best stick dancing song EVER:
https://dl.dropbox.com/u/23214146/MOTHAE.mp3

BOOM Shaka!!  Grooveshark was not working for me but Dropbox did the trick!

I know I said I'm going to not post on here until June but... I may have lied because I'm a dirty... DIRTY liar! :)

Reflections from the Mountain Kingdom

So it's taken some time but I've finally been able to piece together most of my thoughts on the trip to Lesotho.  Let's be honest, Europe was just to see friends and ease my way back into a world unlike the one I spent 2 months.  My service in Lesotho is just the tip of what is to come, I'm sure, and it's already had a huge impact on me so there is no telling what the next year will bring.  So below... written in countless spots along my journey - my final reflections on my time in Lesotho.  :) 


If this is the only blog you've read but you want to read more and are like "holy shit jessica, you write... A LOT" and don't even want to start... check out 2 of my favorite blogs:


3:30am - posted Feb 18
Found an Old blog from Lesotho - posted Feb 6


I have also uploaded 200 pictures, mostly from Leostho but there are some from Cape Town as well as my travels through Europe.


Pictures from my travels


If you're not on Facebook for whatever reason, I have 10 videos I posted on there as well you can view, let me know and I'll upload them to Picasa so you can view them. :)


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Reflections of the Mountain Kingdom

Capturing the words to sufficiently detail the experience I had in Lesotho has seemed like an impossible task.  Even discussions with those who were there with me, leave us silent for moments at a time while we try to collect the thoughts swirling inside our brains and feelings in our hearts and try to marry the two into words and complete sentences.  As I sit on a train from Brussels – Nord to Luxembourg, I long for the life, the simplicity, the pure untainted happiness of the people and my friends I grew to love, even more so than after my first trip to the country.  The impressions I leave with today are similar to those I had after my trip to Lesotho in 2008, only with much greater intensity.  It’s simple - you don’t need much, almost nothing but the bare necessities of life, to experience true, complete and genuine happiness. 

You walk the hillside, which is green, gorgeous, covered in sand stone and little houses built wherever they can manage.  People will acquire their land through either their family or paying the government and then slowly build their homes, brick by brick.  They may earn enough money to buy a few hundred blocks for the foundation of their house and start with that, a month later, another hundred and they will keep going, building their 1-4 bedroom house gradually, over time.  Some houses have many rooms, some are simple 1 bedroom houses with a bed, a table and a stove.  Many houses don’t have electricity or running water but they will get water from a well in town to for cooking and cleaning.  Most also don’t have a bathroom and either they built an outhouse just beside the house or they use a bucket.  Almost all of the houses have ample land for agriculture and livestock.  They grow their own food, raise their own sheep, goats, cows and chickens for milk, eggs, personal slaughter or to sell.  When I see people unhappy, it’s when they or a family member is not well and in need of medical attention they not only can’t afford, they don’t have access to.  The unemployment level is ridiculously high at some 50-60% and I believe that’s only counting the men in the country.  Woman are generally not taught to work, besides for the family and home, which is pretty apparent by some of the female volunteers we had from the town.  The thought is, any job a woman takes is one away from a man, when it’s already hard enough to find work.  It’s old school, it’s not like it is in the US but that’s the way of life here.  The woman tend to the house, the farm and the children.  The country has no real industry to supply jobs, they don’t even have the infrastructure to support big industry.  Imagine Seattle with only I-5 connecting the cities to each other but once you arrive in a city it’s all unmarked dirt paths, rocky hills and expansive land as far as the eye can see to get from one place to the other.  It’s amazing but it doesn’t make it easy to get around.  My friend Megan and I talked about how we could help Lesotho better use their resources, like the sun, to allow them uninterrupted, sustainable power, how they could tap into their mountains for tourism and expand their ability to supply their country people jobs but the first thing I thought was, “oh god, that’s a fine grey line to dance between keeping  Lesotho, Lesotho and turning it into something ugly.”  The biggest fear I have in this world, quite literally the biggest and only, is that some industrialized country is going to realize Lesotho holds onto some natural resource and they are going to rape and pillage the Basotho people of their land, their resources and their way of life.  I will be the first one there, chained to whatever rock or aloe plant someone thinks they are going to destroy.  Tessa heard from someone in town, the Chinese may be the ones who are starting to do just that.  We all know they have a textile plant just across the Lesotho boarder in Maputsoe, where they are taking advantage of cheap labor but apparently they have also started to mine.  I hate industrialized countries thinking they have the right to take from others.  Assholes!

The people of Lesotho know who they are, where they came from, they are in tune with their culture and all they try to do is be good Basotho people.  You walk the streets and a majority of the time, you’ll hear traditional Basotho music blasting from cars or from the local taverns along the road side; although, they are obsessed with Rhianna.  Everyone knows how to stick dance, EVERYONE!  The beats thump, they raise their stick in the air with one hand and the other, on their hip, popping their shoulder in and out with the beat of the tunes.  They eat the food from their land and generally, they don’t try to be anyone else or replicate any other country’s culture.  When speaking to locals people talk about good Basotho men and good Basotho woman and that’s what all people strive to be.  They are some of the most friendly people you will ever meet and even though there is a great language barrier, sometimes very great, patience and kindness is always the first thing you notice about them when you’re trying to communicate, which is the complete opposite I find in other countries, especially the US.  When Isabel and I would do our Sunday morning runs, EVERYONE would say hello or good morning to us.  I took care of replying since Isabel was still not used to the altitude J Kids would run to the roadside to wave and if they didn’t see us approach, they saw us pass and would scream “GOOD MORNING! HOWRUUUUUUUUU?” after us.

The work we did was grueling, on some days, more so than on others, less so on days when we were rained out.  We woke at 5:45am each day (Isabel and I never did really get used to waking up early and we should have been up at almost 5am everyday), ate the same breakfast of a hardboiled egg, a handful or two of granola, maybe some yoghurt and an apple, left the “nun palace” to gather our tools for our respective projects for the day, had a small break to throw some of mama’s bread and peanut butter and a banana down the chop and broke for lunch at 1.  Immediately after eating I napped until 2, when I’d grab another apple and gather all our tools again to work until 5.  From the very beginning of our day, we passed nothing but smiling faces, although rather groggy at 6am or food coma’d after lunch, who were eager to help, thirsting to learn new skills, practice their English, talk to us about their joys and sorrows, share their music, their lives and little piece of them, each and every day.  We’d talk, we’d laugh, sometimes work side-by-side in silence, just enjoying each other’s company and sometimes we’d reflect or cry.  No matter how strong I think I’ve become, physically, or how much I feel like I work like a beast, the people who worked with us, each and every day, schooled me in just about every way imaginable and their strength, determination and drive, which left me in awe of their abilities.  While at times, they were left with frustrated volunteers who couldn’t let go of the fact we were in a completely different land, with a great language barrier and in a country with major issues with their educational system, the Basotho working with us, never lost their patience, not a single time. 

What was different this year was we actually saw, experienced and witnessed the impact of what we had done, not just for the community of Holy Names High School, which was the original intent, but on the entire community, old, young, big and small, with the creation of the bridge.  I can’t even put to words how amazing it was to play a part, granted not from creation to completion, but for the final half of the work to be done on what now connects one part of the country side to the other.  As we were putting together the final forms for the concrete railing, people would approach the bridge with apprehension, since there were quite a few of us working on it, and we’d let them know it was ok to pass.  Some would give a simple smile and go about their merry way, some would laugh and say “kea laboah,” (“thank you” in Sesotho) some would go into great depth, in Sesotho mind you, on their appreciation of the bridge, and we would smile and nod and some would actually do a little dance while smiling and singing their praises as they crossed.  On Christmas Day, a few of us went to the local market at the end of the street that is the entrance of the high school and we heard people yelling down the road to us, which wasn’t uncommon because we stick out like sore thumbs, so we just waved up the road, said “dumela” and kept walking.  Moments later, three boys, probably in their early twenties, literally ran down the road to meet us, thank us for the bridge and say how wonderful it is for the community.  Wow… really!  THIS is why I love doing stuff like this.  When I first arrived at the school and realized they had barely used the hall we built 2 years prior, I felt a bit let down and a feeling of, “why in the hell have we done some of this stuff?” swept over me but this… this is what it was about.  It’s not about building massive structures to help a small piece of a community but it’s about helping everyone perform their daily lives better, with something as simple as a bridge.  Because of the bridge older individuals can actually make it to the other town when it rains and aren’t confined to their side of the hill, shepards can get to the other side of the hill to tend to their sheep, cows, goats or whatever else they tend, kids can get to school and so many other things I don’t even think I’ll ever realize without actually living there prior to and living there after the fact.  It was Rome’s first bridge she created and she has every right to feel as satisfied and proud as she does because it truly is beautiful and amazing!

I know Rome is now grappling with a lot of different aspects of these projects, our intentions and goals because of the overwhelming influence of this bridge.  The impact was felt by everyone, even those volunteers who came after the bridge was already completed.  My favorite part of working on the project was still, to this day, the day I was by myself on the bridge, thoughts of Emmanuel flooding my heart and then working side-by-side with Pule, when he joined me towards the end.  I have a scar and a permanent indention in my left index finger from banging it, twice, with a hammer, attempting to chisel scraps of concrete from the ground.  I love it. J  The dedication ceremony, which doubled as a memorial ceremony for many of the volunteers who were not able to be present for Emmanuel’s funeral, was quite moving and a really special celebration – spray bottle of holy water and all. 

I know the other things we did for the school will be well cared for and are also a big impact for them.  Whether the fence was created to keep intruders out or keep the boarders in, is still unknown but I think it’s a pointless question or debate because regardless, it either keeps the kids safer or it makes it easier for the nuns to ensure those kids, under their care and supervision, are where they are supposed to be.  I had a curfew when I was younger but my mom also had only 3 of us to care for, not 200+.  The chicken coops will be a great way for the school to sustainably provide the community eggs for their own income or to feed the 600+ students that attend classes during the school year.  I also hope the walls in the building allow teachers to utilize the space more frequently.  It’s just that bridge man, god what an experience.  I can’t even count how many times I walked over it in the 6 weeks I was there or how many people thanked me for it.

Working in the project for a significant amount of time allows you to see so much more of what’s going on, good and bad.  There are always going to be personality conflicts when working with people so that’s just something you deal with the best you can and it’s to be expected.  I was a mostly distraught with some of the volunteers, which I won’t get into in great depth here, but I will say, when you travel internationally, blend, don’t think you’re going to have this profound influence on a culture that they will morph to what you’re used to.  That is arrogant and precisely one of the reasons people can’t stand American’s so bloody much.  When you go to help a community, adhere to what they state is proper and what is not, don’t question, just go with it. Don’t make disparaging comments about any of the directives given by those you’re working to help.  Have some patience too for crying out loud.  You’re here to help a community better itself, a community where the pace is not the same and the level of education is significantly less than that of our first world, industrialized, capitalistic “time is money” country.  If you can’t handle all of that, don’t show up, please, do us all a favor and stay in the states.  It will make for a more enjoyable experience for all those involved.

That being said, the connections you make with the people you work with are almost more valuable than the outcome of the project itself.  I know, without a shadow of a doubt, I want to go back to Lesotho, back to Holy Names, whether it be in the next year or the next 5.  I want to spend more time there, donate my time and abilities to help those kids and the nuns I grew to love dearly in whatever way I can.  I want to wake every morning to the sound of roosters cawing as the sun rises, I want to walk to the tac shop to get bread and hold hands with Jackie, Rosemary, Elisabeth, Matela, Mosiuoa, Grace, Sr. Agnes, Sr. Agnes, Sr. Josephine or any of the other wonderful people I grew to love as we go to wherever it is we’re going.  I told Sr. Catherine that whenever I find the person who means more to me in this world than anyone else, someone to love and spend the rest of my life with, I’m bringing her to Lesotho and to this school so she can see what’s been a major impact in my life.  My heart is still in Lesotho and it feels like just a beating muscle is left in my chest.  I want to go back.

Meeting Rosemary and hearing her story and working with her is something I will never, ever, EVER forget.  After we had grown close, it wasn’t unusual on clear nights for me to lay on the concrete bench outsides the convent, staring into the sky and wondering why some people are just dealt a shitty hand in life.  She’s such a strong person, has so much personality and love for life, and from what I can see, manages as best she can with whatever illness has struck her.  It took her a few days to fully understand, or more like fully sink in, that she didn’t have to leave holy names and that she could continue her education there.   After she found out she failed form C, she didn’t really smile and laugh again for almost 3 days but when she did, it was so amazing.  I love that girl like a little sister and leaving her was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.   She left the Monday school started to head to Maseru to visit her sister and get her uniform and said she’d be back Tuesday morning but days passed and I didn’t see her.  I started to get nervous because the days were drawing close to when I was to leave and no one was sure if she was coming back for school.  The Saturday before I left, I heard she was to return and as Isabel and I were drilling tiny metal shards all over ourselves, I look down and there is newly bald Rosemary, and a beautiful girl who was an older spitting image of her and a little boy.  It has taken longer for Rosemary to get back because her sister needed to get the money for her, Rosemary and her son to come to meet and thank me.  Her sister said she didn’t know how to thank me for the gift I had given and I said, “I don’t need anything.  I just want to see Rosemary stay healthy and pass her classes and move on to Form D.  That’s all I want.”  Outside, on my last night, Rosemary pulled me aside and between quivering sobs explained how truly thankful she was that she was able to go to school and that she had a place to sleep.  She said, “If you did not come to Holy Names, I wouldn’t be going to school here.  I hope one day I can do for someone what you have done for me.  Jessica, you are my mother, my father, my hero and my savior and I thank and I love you.”  I wish more than anything I could’ve told her when she’d see me again, when she repeatedly asked, but the truth of the matter then and still now, I don’t know but every day of my life I carry that girl in my heart.  Shit, I’m starting to cry now just thinking about it.  Still on the train to Luxembourg – get it together woman!

I don’t want to say that returning to the first world made me feel disgusting.  Isabel and I talked about the question people have asked, “what impact has doing stuff like this had on you?”  We’re both stumped, we know it’s had an impact but can’t really put our finger on it.  I’ve been trying since I left to fully understand.  I know I’m left with the mark of a different land on my heart, I understand others in this world lead a completely different life than what I’ve grown up experiencing and I won’t say either one is better than another, for any culture for that matter, they are just different.  The people have been gracious enough to gift me the opportunity to live with them and welcome me into their lives and culture and I am forever thankful for that chance.  Seeing families so close to one another, emotionally, physically, spiritually, is such an awesome experience.  Tessa talked about how on Christmas, Sorhgums family, all of them, extended and all, sat in their little hut on the hill side, playing cards by candlelight and enjoying each other’s company.  I found the same amount of joy, playing sex themed banana grams with dear friends, old and new, on any other night and the only thing that would’ve made it more perfect, was if my family was with me during this experience.  Well, if my family was there with me to share the full volunteer experience, not necessarily the sex themed Banana Grams. J  But it’s really just the simplicity of spending time with those you love.  The work the people do is to support their lives, their families and those that matter most.  They don’t work to attain things, or a new pair of boots, or some fancy dinner.  The outcome they hope to attain is health, food, shelter, happiness and love, which if I have to say which is better, I’ll take that type of life over the life citizens of the US and other industrialized nations are taught is important.  A big fancy house is not necessary, nor important, a monster TV is not important, a closet as big as a room filled with clothes is not important, an all inclusive cruise is not important, and quite frankly, ridiculous.  Working 40+ hours a week, stressing yourself out, just to help pad some millionaire’s pocket book or meet some ridiculous KPI targets should be the last priority.   One of my old friend’s sisters is volunteering in Nepal right now and in her blog, she has lots of comments from readers like, “We should all be grateful for what we have in our country (the US)” and the one thing I NEVER thought while I was in Lesotho was “I’m grateful for what I have” it is more, “everything I have, I don’t need, except the loved ones in my life.”  What is important is your health, being happy with who you, keeping good company in the people you choose to spend your life with and treating people with genuine kindness, all virtues of the Basotho people.

What has this trip done for me?  It’s made me realize when I travel, I don’t want to be a tourist, I want to get into a country, a township and really experience the way of life and be friends with those who live there.  I want to see and experience how others live and have them teach me their culture, parts of their language, how to cook their food, how to enjoy their country.  I also told Rome, during one of our conversations, “this project and what we’ve been able to do for this community makes me never want a normal job again.”  I mean that.  If I could travel the world, volunteering and helping communities for the rest of my life, I would and I just may.  I’d love to have more of an impact and role in the current program I love so much where it feels like such a family.  I never want to forget the people who have touched my heart and never want to say good bye, but “see you later.”  I just never want to lose sight of what it really means to live a fulfilling and happy life.  I can’t say I’m never going to buy something again or eat at a swank restaurant, because as my old boss said – who I fucking HATED by the way but saw truth with this statement –  “you live in a different country, with a different kind of life and you just have to adapt to where you are.”  I think her intention in saying that was so I could find a reason to sell more useless data services to people who didn’t need them when I came back from the trip in 2008 BUT I agree, which is why I won’t say never.  What I don’t want to do is spend my life just doing something so I get a paycheck, regardless of the amount, and instead, spend my life making an impact, whether big or small, on an individual or a community.  My previous blog post Be Here, Be Present, is also a look at how this trip has played a part in changing me.

I miss Lesotho though, a lot!  I spent the last day and a half going through all my pictures and picking out the ones I felt were my favorite, as well as videos.  Listening to the entire school sing the Lesotho National Anthem still brings tears to my eyes.  Reliving the memories I have in each of those pictures makes me want to get back even more.  The incessant phone calls I get from each and every one of them, wanting me to call them back to talk to them, makes me long to just hear their voice.  Calls to Lesotho though, NOT CHEAP!   I miss Rosemary grabbing my hand and dragging me with her, at sprint speed, to only god knows where on campus, Bokong and our discussions on gay life in our respective countries and listening to him sing along to Florence and the Machine and Sia while he was listening to my music box.  I miss Mosiuoa skipping through campus after getting a letter from Row and his daily hugs and I’ll admit I dug Nkwelle flipping me countless amounts of shit.  Memories of Thabang and Sr. Catherine singing my name as they saw me walk through campus will always make me smile. Sr. Agnus teasing me and singing her sweet little songs from her garden, while sporting her camo skirt are forever etched in my mind.  I miss Sr. Josephine coming up during the afternoons to help wherever it was I was working and young Elizabeth shyly coming up and holding my hand as I walked through campus.  Everytime I think of my best friend Tamme or see a picture of her, I’ll remember Imelda and her loud and flamboyant, Brooklyn/LA style, and the reverse will also be true.  I long for the laugh Grace brought with her hilarious “Hello” *waves low*, “Hi” *waves high* and Jackie going just about anywhere I would go and wanting to learn everything he could.   Swandi, as much as he is the moodiest, PMSy 12 year old boy EVER, I miss our talks about which ever girl was his new love of the week and asking me for relationship advice, which is also hilarious since I suck at them. J  Mungkee’s smile, even though he’s ashamed of it, was one of the things I loved seeing most when he was around and I love how he’d attach himself to my side, wherever I went, on the days he could help work.  Olga, my dancing queen, singing “It’s getting hot in here” from across campus, awaiting me to finish the song.  Tumaki’s ridiculous faces and goofy attitude always made me happy and I miss helping him with anything techy and exchanging music with him whenever we had a chance.  Tumo was so quiet in 2008 and something happened between now and then and he was totally alive, crazy chatter box and played music everywhere he went. Tukela, even though he graduated, came and helped with the project a bit and his ridiculously infections smile and singing made my day feel complete.  Pule playing the make shift guitar and working like a beast and speaking in a very soft spoken way are missed and Matela and his sweet smile and his distance presence this time.  It was ridiculously difficult to leave that kid last time and I think he purposely kept his distance this time to not feel as terrible when we all had to leave again.  My last night this year, he hugged me and didn’t let go…  I miss all of them, every day since I’ve left, I miss them and their country.  I left behind physical aspects of my presence in Lesotho, they seared imprints into my heart that will last an eterinty. Leaving this time, I know I’m not sure when I’ll be back but unlike in2008, I know I will be back and I know I will see my dear friends again. Kea leboha my friends, kea leboha.

Signing off until June when I return to the sky and head to India, 

xxxo,

Dirty, Bruised and still adjusting

Howizit??

I've been in Maui for the past few days, relaxing, still decompressing from Lesotho (this is MUCH harder this time than any other trip I've taken) and I'm happy to be here with 3 of my very dear friends but I have to say the highlight has been constant calls from my friends from afar in Lesotho.  Hearing Bokong's voice on the phone Sunday as I squealed "BOKOOOONG" and he replied in his adorable tone, "JEEEEEEESSSS!  Howizit?!" made me so happy.

I'm working on 2 final posts before I sign off until I head to India in June.  One is my reflections on the Lesotho trip as a whole and it's not short and I've been trying to compile it as I've been able to grasp it's impacts.  The other one will be a showcase of everyone who's touched my heart and been apart of the experience, complete with PICTURES!  Yes, I actually uploaded all my pics to come computer in reasonable time, thanks to jet lag and waking at the ungodly hours of 2am and 3am the first few nights I was back.

I will say, it's very apparent I'm not suited to a life of normalcy right now and my friends have already voiced they are preparing for me to never return, more so than I am but I can't say they aren't smart to do so.  I don't know what life holds for me right now but I know it's nothing like what I've done.  This prospect was terrifying and has been for some time but the more time passes, the more I'm not only excited but totally moving through life with open arms ready to accept whatever my destiny is and I'm not going to fight it.

3:30am

Real entry below a bit.  This stuff is just jet lagged banter :)

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Jet lag is a bitch!  So is a painful cough, courtesy of being around so much smoke the last few days of my travels. *coughs* God damn... that hurts! *grabs my chest*  Oh, and laser hair removal is also a big bitch!  I haven't done them yet but I'm pretty sure taxes are also going to be monster huge bitch. You know what's not a bitch?  My mother effin friends!  They have been so amazing and I wish I could see everyone before taking off to Maui BUT at least I'm giving myself WAY more time than the originally planned 3 weeks between travel round 2 and REALLY BIG travel round 3. Also, my hairdresser is not a bitch!  Jessee is amazing and I'm lovin my new hairs... BAD!

I'm messing so much with my body's clock right now, I'm fearful I may get sick from just the confusion of what day is what.  Tomorrow, I mean, I guess in a matter of hours when it's appropriate to be awake, I need to load up on some kombucha, master cleanse and fresh lemon and ginger to battle this already acquired cough and any impending ick.  I should also probably stop drinking ze alcohol until I feel like my body has fully adjusted to being...somewhere.

Below is my latest, actual, journal entry. :)  Oh and one random piece of info, I have decided I'm not reactivating my smartphone, mostly because it completely negates what you're about to read.  I feel great about it and everyone can expect my full, undivided attention when we spend time together because I'm living in the now, now. ;)

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Be Here, Be Present

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

That’s a mantra I use frequently when I’m focusing in yoga, on my breath, on my body position, on being free in the mind.  I want to quote a passage from Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist:

The camel driver, though, seemed not to be very concerned with the threat of war.

“I’m alive,” he said to the boy, as they ate a bunch of dates one night, with no fires and no moon.  “When I’m eating, that’s all I think about.  If I’m on the march, I just concentrate on marching.  If I have to fight, it will be just as good a day to die as any other.

Because I don’t live in either my past or my future.  I’m interested only in the present.  If you can concentrate always on the present, you’ll be a happy man.  You’ll see that there is life in the desert, that there are stars in the heavens, and that tribesmen fight because they are part of the human race.  Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we’re living right now.”

I really can’t tell you when I changed, when the transition from perfectly calculated Jess, always thinking of what’s next?  What’s my next move?  I’ve reached my goal or destination, so now what’s going to be my next goal or destination?  What will this turn into in the future?  Is there even a future?  Everything used to be part of a plan, my career, my finances, my social life, where I was going to be from one minute to the next and now, while I haven’t completely thrown it all to the weigh side, I’ve really tried to slow the fuck down and just ENJOY! 

I can’t thank one thing in particular for what I like to think is a good change.  My former best friend tried to teach me to be more spontaneous, my ex girlfriend tried to teach me to slow down, yoga feels more amazing when my mind isn’t afloat and worrying about anything, at all.  The combination of so many things has made me understand and appreciate the simple joys of just breathing, truly opening my eyes and looking around at where I am, who I’m with and what I’m doing, RIGHT NOW.  There was not a single moment during the last 9 weeks when I was wanting the day to disappear and give me a different day.  I wasn’t looking forward to Cape Town when I was in Lesotho.  I didn’t make plans for Europe until moments before leaving Cape Town and while I missed my home, my family and my friends greatly, reached out to those as often as I’d allow, I didn’t want to be home, I wanted to be right where I was. 

I had everything.  I had a nice house, my adorable car, a very well paying, fun but completely unsatisfying job, all the shit I could need plus a ton more and incredibly loving family and friends.  The only thing I’ve realized I want to hold onto is the latter two and the rest doesn’t matter, never has and never will.  None of that matters when living in the moment and if anything, holds you back from doing what you really want to do, what really makes you happy.  I told Martina yesterday I never want to wish for the current day to leave, I never want to wake up Monday and wish for it to be Friday at 5pm so I can have 2 out of 7 days to enjoy.  I want to enjoy every day, make the most of every situation, enjoy each second as if that second will never last and not worry about what the next second will bring.  If there is one thing I’ve learned on this first adventure, it’s just that and while I’m not perfect at it, I’m always working to be better.  I’ve never been one to live in the past but I do reflect on things that have happened, try to understand what I learned from them and then move on from there but the moment I’m in right now is the one that counts.

I have wasted so many days of my life just going through a routine in search of the next step in life when really, I was always on the step I needed to be.  I’ve missed out on a number of amazing experiences because I was too focused on what was going to happen, where this path was leading.  I had a terrible Christmas in 2008 because I was longing for the experience we had the year prior when my entire family was together and wanting the next Christmas to come so it could be like that again.  I didn’t sit there and enjoy the fact I was with my loving mother and step-father and enjoy being with them.  I’ve had countless situations where I’ve been glued to my phone, trying to plan my next step in the day and completely ignoring the people and place I was currently.  I’ve sat at a table waiting for breakfast to be served, playing napkin football with a beautiful woman I loved and adored who was smiling and looking at me like only she could, and I was worried about what was of our future instead of just enjoying being with her, right at that moment.  I spent 5 hours and 45 minutes wogging a marathon (I REALLY need to do another one and crush that time), that I really just wanted to finish.  I never once looked around me and just looked straight ahead, focused on finishing, instead of breathing in the air of 30,000 other people who were joining me in the same crazy event and looking at the beautiful city of San Diego from a vantage point rarely seen by anyone else.  I’ve won regattas and never celebrated the victory because my mind was immediately focused on the next one.  I’ve been at concert festivals where I’m listening to someone I love so much but worried about what time it is so I can rush off to see someone else.  Countless times I’ve been stuck in traffic, with no choice but to just be, and I’m angry I can’t get to wherever it is I’m going, instead of sitting back, relaxing and enjoying the new CD I’d just purchased and appreciating the extra time I have to sing at the top of my lungs and do crazy car dancing, which I LOOOOVE doing.

I could name so many other situations and I know each of you can too.  There is something magical about “being present” that just makes you feel so amazing and feel so grateful and appreciative.  Will I ever be perfect at being in the now, being present and not rushing to the next thing?  Certainly not, but it’s definitely my new goal of practice and one I’m glad to take one minute at a time.  That moment in the restaurant with the beautiful girl, I was lucky to have captured that moment on camera.  I look back at it from time to time, not out of longing for that moment again but reminding myself, when I need reminding, that those moments are ones I must enjoy as they are happening because you never really know what’s going to happen in the future… so love that moment, in its moment.

On a less introspective note – I’m flying back to the US and I really do enjoy me some international travel on airlines not run by the US and not going anywhere near the US.  Everything feels so cheap and I’ve already had 15 minutes of ads for things of the like of Godiva thrown in my face without an ability to get rid of the images.  Well, I was typing instead of watching but the audio was over the speakers.  Gross!  I also miss the Airbus A380 TONS!  Every flight over 4 hours should be on one of those dreams.

Oh and Aileen gave me the new Adele album and Oh…EM… GEE!!  So good!  God that super young woman knows how to rip out your beating heart and make you stare at it in your hands.  I teared up and I wasn’t even thinking of anything, just playing FreeCell.  What the what?  Which, by the way, I’m on a 30 game winning streak or something.  I need to find something else because I’m pretty sure I’ve mastered that game.

Oceans and Sunsets

Here's another backwards, in time, blog entry! :)

Sunsets and Oceans

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

When I awoke today the first thought that crossed my mind as my eyes were half open and the parts that were exposed, a quarter sleepy, was that tomorrow, at this time, I’m going to be on my way to the airport to go home.  An immense excitement swept over me.  The  next moment I thought, “what am I going to do to enjoy my last day abroad?”

I arrived in Noordwijk, Netherlands yesterday, greeted by my long time friend, Aileen and it’s a small seaside town, much like Seaside or Cannon Beach in Oregon.  It’s tiny, a few strips with store fronts, beach clubs that are temporary restaurants set up for the peak season, excluding the one I sit in now, De Zeemeeuw, which is open year round, and vacation homes all around.  If there is one thing I’ve learned in my travels, it’s I like to walk the shit out of the cities I’m in.  As Aileen’s girlfriend, Florianne, left to support her friend who is suing the country for infringement on personal identity due to a new policy where everyone who applies to get a passport must have all of their finger prints taken and stored in some database, I headed off in the other direction to walk to the beach. 

I made my way to the beach front strip and found a book store, since I finished Veronika Decides to Die in a day (I need to stop doing that), purchased The Alchemist, which I’m also probably going to finish in a day and made my way through the dunes of the Netherlands coast.  It’s a beautiful morning, the sun rose and people of all ages and kinds were peddling their bikes along the path, some returning from running errands with bottles of milk clanking in the bags attached to the back of their bikes, some just enjoying the day, as I was.  I parked my ass on the sand, bundled up with my gloves, 4 layers of clothing and read my book until the tide came up to where I was sitting, which didn’t take more than a few pages of reading.

Amsterdam was filled with a disgusting hostel, lots of drinking of crappy beer, great times with amazing friends from all over Europe, beautiful woman in a LESBIAN bar (gasp, I know since that’s generally an oxymoron!), sweet kisses, almost getting into trouble in Absolute Danny for breaking (even though I didn’t) a pair of thigh high rubber boots, eating amazingly delicious dutch pancakes, walking, reading, relaxing oh and I wrote my first set of song lyrics!  Diana asked me if I would and said she would put the words to song so I’m pretty excited to see what she comes up with.  Poetry is usually what I’ve written in the past so it was a pretty smooth mental process once I had an idea.  I’m pretty sure I actually wrote it entirely when we were walking back from lunch to our gross hostel.  I will say, I wasn’t sad to say good bye to Amsterdam yesterday.

Today though, I couldn’t have asked for a better last day of adventuring, even though today, I’m doing exactly what I would do if I was on the other side of the world. 

Below is an entry I wrote a few days ago…

Xxx,
Bruised and excited to come home and see my loves!

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Are You Easy to Love?

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Call this a special Valentine’s Edition of my journal, which is only indirectly related to my travels.  I’ve been very reflective lately, wait, what am I talking about?  I’m always reflective, which is sometimes the death of me.  Rome asked this question to Mandy and Mary when she was driving them to Johannesburg and she asked me the same question days later and I’ve had to think about it.  “Are you easy to love?”  It’s not exactly an easy question to answer and chances are, if your answer involves a shit ton of caveats, even if you answered, “yes,” you’re not really.  So here’s my answer – Yes! 

Caveat time?  No, not exactly.  I have a heart that is probably bigger than my entire being and it’s mushy, really really mushy.  It’s important to me that all those in my life who I love, admire and appreciate know it as often as possible and I do my best to SHOW people how much they mean to me, not just tell them.  I’m an open book, honest and I’m not afraid to say what’s on my mind, whether it be saying, “I love you” or having the more difficult conversations.  Sometimes I fault myself for being too open and speaking my mind and heart too freely because it’s fucking scary sometimes.  I may be a feather, drifting with the wind at the moment but I know who I am, what I want out of my life, myself and my potential partner and it’s pretty fucking intense sometimes.  I wrote a letter a few months ago telling someone I had been in love with her since the day I met her.  I kicked myself in the ass about it a few weeks after but one of my friends reminded me, “you have strong feelings and no one can fault you for being yourself and saying what’s in your heart.”  Is it easy to deal with my intensity?  Probably not but time on this earth is short and I would rather tell someone how I feel rather than let countless days, weeks, months and years pass without ever saying a thing, at whatever the risk but sometimes I scare even myself with how intense I can get and not knowing how to dial it back. 

There’s love but then there’s also a relationship and am I easy to be with in one of those?  I have NO fucking idea!  My last serious relationship completely and totally changed me as a person, it took a very long time to regain who I was, and I don’t know if any residual effects have been left but I fear there are some.  I went from a completely confident, independent, self-assured person to one who was completely insecure, untrusting and dependant.  I was completely unlovable and I hated who I became.  After being in a ridiculously unhealthy relationship for almost a year and a half with someone who was a perpetual liar from day one, I about lost my marbles and became rather nuts.  My mom even voiced her concern at one point but I was completely blind to my changes.  It’s been my goal since then to not only get back to being me but being a better me.  I worry there are still some things I need to sort through but then I only know that once I’m dating someone I’m really into, which isn’t often, and then I worry I’ll lose someone amazing because I have to work to sort out past issues.  I know, if that person is really amazing they will be patient but I don’t want anyone to have to be patient with me.  I want to just be a ball of awesomeness from the start dammit! J  Now I’ve put myself in a situation where it’s almost impossible to get close to someone with all the travel plans I have in store.  I’m not traveling to keep people or my feelings at a distance but I can’t say that didn’t play a small role in my decision to do what I’m doing either.  This is a dream being realized and I’m so excited for it but that’s another thing that makes me easy to love but hard to actually get close to.  I do want to find someone to be close to though, who supports me in everything I want to do and someone whose dreams I can also support.  My days of gaily gallivanting around town are over since my recent past experiences have been nothing short of amazing on every imaginable level and anything else would just seem pointless and leave me feeling empty, physically, emotionally and mentally.  I’ve made a conscious decision to not sell myself short on any of life’s experiences and my relations with others being one of the big and potentially amazing experiences available.  So here I sit, alone, in my hostel room half way around the world from my home, listening to Adele (the old one but I cannot wait to get home and get the new one) knowing that things will all fall into place, when the time is right, when the person is right and when I’m ready because right now, as easy as I am to love, I’m not sure I’m ready to be loved, which makes me impossible to love. I guess my answer should be changed to "NO" then huh? ;)  

So, are you easy to love?

Oh and btw, Amsterdam, has been fun J

xxx,

Dirty

You Antwerp!

I've been having WAY too much fun gallivanting around Paris to even think about updating my journal, and I'm attempting to tackle the feat of capturing my reflections of Africa, which is seeming quite difficult and novel like, BUT, I do have some past journals from my adventures in Belgium so... enjoy!

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Hot Mess
03.February.2011

There’s something about an intended chill day versus one that’s not exactly planned.  I guess if I have an item on my bucket list, “drink my way through Belgium” it should be expected that at least one day will go to piss, so I’m not really surprised that today, I woke up at 2pm, only to promptly go back to sleep and not wake again until 5pm.  I did manage to eat a chocolate covered butter biscuit before my immediate nap though J I have not the foggiest idea how I managed to make it up the rickety, narrow, spiral staircase of the hostel in the early wee hours.  Was the sun coming up?  How did I manage to find my way home with no map, in the dark, not wearing my glasses?  I get lost and sometimes can’t find my way around when I’m sober, with map in hand and able to clearly see!  Aye!  Why I thought it a grand idea to leave my hostel at 1am with the bartender to head to the “rock bar” across town is also unknown to me but good times were had! 

There was this very nice gentleman who accompanied me to the “rock bar,” whose name escapes me right now, but he’s part of the national army reserve, older guy, loves his beer, was born, raised and has pretty much never left Brugge and gave me a fine walking tour of the entire city as we walked its empty cobblestone streets.  I think he knows every inch of history in this city and I can give a fine eating/drinking/entertainment tour of Seattle but I’ll be damned if I can point out anything historical or even give the full history of said historical place.  At one point in the night, I was a total hot mess, emotional and I’m pretty sure I cried when the hostel bartender, Evy, made some sort of mention that going to help people in Africa is pointless because they are useless, or something like that.  It pissed my pissed self off so what happens when that happens?  I cry. Ha.  I’m not sure when exactly we left the bar but her hippy looking friend, whose name I also don’t remember, was going to accompany me back to the hostel but he started to get a wee frisky with me and I promptly told him to piss off and that I’d find my own way back to the hostel.  Just as he went off in the other direction, I realized I lost the map.  Oops! 

Prior to the debauchery that was early this morning, I went out with a bunch of the people I befriended earlier in the day.

·         Melanie and Lilian - two adorable girls from New Zealand who have been European adventuring since November.  They are both 21 years old, Melanie studied psychology and early childhood development, and Lilian studied psychology and Japanese.  They’ve known each other since they were 12 and have traveled a few times together, most noteably this trip and also a 6 week journey to Thailand where they had some crazy adventures with “happy milkshakes.”  Ha!  After their travels, Lil is going to spend a year in Japan studying and Melanie is moving to Manchester to be with her boyfriend and then they are both trying to move elsewhere in Europe.  I spent a few hours talking with Mel over breakfast about her a 2 month trip she took to India where she worked in an orphanage and she continued her altruistic deeds in New Zealand and has volunteered with refugees for the past 3 years and has a dream of working at a refugee camp.  Some pretty incredible stuff for a girl so young.  Her parents have recently divorced and they both started going different places in the world to volunteer.  Her mom has been doing work in Cape Town and her dad is going to Thailand or Vietnam to teach for a year.

·         Fillipe - Brazilian who is in his final year of university in the Netherlands studying Agricultural something or other.  His mannerisms totally remind me of my friend Frank and he cracked me up. 

·         Anna and Emma - two sweet girls from Sweden who booked the trip to Brugge, drunk one night after Emma’s relationship fizzled to an end.  I talked mostly to Anna and she has convinced me I need to go to Sweden in the summer for their slew of music festivals.  Ok, fine… twist my arm!  They both can’t stand Robyn, who I of course had to mention since Robyn is the only thing I know from Sweden and well, I love her… bad!  Anna had this tobacco packet thingy that you stick in your lip/gum area, kinda like chew but it’s not chew.  Not going to lie, I tried it and it was WEIRD.  They were made illegal in Sweden because they are crazy addictive and it’s basically like getting just the little buzz from smoking but w/o the smoke or nasty chew flavor. 

·         Brittany – Solo traveler from Winnipeg, who just finished her bachelor program in kinesiology in Melbourne and is traveling for an undetermined amount of time.  

A few others went out with us but I didn’t get a chance to talk to them and one is this creepyish guy from Oklahoma who could’ve stayed back, for all I cared.  We head to the bar and as soon as the door is opened the overwhelming aroma of cigarette smoke waffs in our face and it was fucking gross.  Brittany exclaims, “there is no way I’m going back in that place tonight!  Last night was enough for me.”  I head over to a club that’s on the other side of the courtyard and stick my head in to take a whiff and it was way less terrible so Brittany and I head in there and it was probably the weirdest bar experience I have ever had.  I buy Brittany and myself a beer and we look around and it’s ALL dudes.  We counted maybe 3 or 4 other girls and the music was flaming gay dance music so all signs pointed to gay bar BUT the dudes were like beef steak rugby guys, very fratish and we heard glasses breaking, a lot of glasses breaking.  We were trying to figure out what was going on and thought the bar back was dropping shit but then we see a guy take his empty glass, raise it above his head and throw it on the ground.  Then another guy stacked 3 glasses and pushed them off the table.  Mel joined us and we all looked at each other like we had entered some other planet.  Brittany asks one guy, “what’s up with breaking the glasses?”  “What broken glasses?” he asked.  “The ones you just threw on the ground?!?” Another glass is thrown, bounces of Brittany’s leg and smashes on the floor. Immediately we chug what’s left of our beers and leave and decided it was just time to turn in so we headed back to the hostel.  Well, they turned in… I already said what happened with the rest of my night.

This city is fantastic for aimless walking, which I’ve done tons of.  At the beginning of the day I managed to finally get some French fries from the cart on the right and good god these people love their mayo.  Imagine an ice cream scoop w/ whipped cream smothered all over it.  Now replace the ice cream with fries and the whipped cream with mayo.  I ate chocolate at the Chocolate Line, which is one of 4 chocolate shops in Brugge that actually makes their own chocolates and Mel, Lil and I grabbed a drink at the oldest bar in Brugge, since our plan to do the brewery tour failed due to them being closed.

Currently I’m sitting in an Italian type joint now, which I wish I would’ve walked passed.  As soon as I entered it smelled like a blanket farts that were left marinating for a few hours.  It’s too small to just turn around and leave and I’m not feeling like being a dick today.  This may be the worst vegetarian lasagna I’ve ever had and the music, oh god the music!  They are playing adult contemporary so that means lots of terrible MJ (his bad stuff), Celine Dion, Shania Twain and only god knows what else.  The low hum of the Laundromat is much desired right now. 

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Not Quite the World at My Feet

Sunday, 06.02.2011

I was done with Brugge.  It’s very cute, medieval, I met some incredibly awesome people, but it was time to move onto the next city, which at first, I didn’t think I wanted to do.  I mentioned to Anna and Emma, my new friends from Sweden, that I was contemplating a trip to Antwerp and Anna boldly exclaimed, “COME WITH US!”  The excitement was a bit much for my cocktail of Belgium beer soaked hung the eff over brain so I said I needed to sleep on it.  No, I didn’t!  Well, I did but I really didn’t.  I woke early the next morning, showered (first time dudes were in the shower area the same time as me.. WEIRD!) grabbed some of the free breakfast from the Snuffle Hostel, where we were all staying and booked a hotel for the next 2 nights in Antwerp.  The cost was a bit much but I justified booking the Park Inn, just outside Antwerpen Central Station, because I wanted a bed to myself (no bunk!), a room to myself and a shower that was hot, powerful, had a continuous flow of water and didn’t leak all over the floor.  Holy heaven on earth! 

I told Anna and Emma when they came down for breakfast and excitement was in the air.  We hung out with Brittany for a bit more while the girls did some laundry, said our good byes, or in my case, “see you in a few days in Paris” and headed to the train station.  I managed to FINALLY get a waffle on the way and stopped by the post office to gather the small item I’m collecting from each of the cities I adventure and THEN we hit the train platform.  I love ALL the graffiti along journey from Brugge to Ghent to Antwerp.  It’s everywhere, on the bridges, the side of the platforms, the trains themselves and it just all awesome.  I’m trying to snap as much of it as I can but it’s hard.

We get to Antwerp and are in complete awe of the shear beauty of the train station.  I thought the train station in Koln, Germany was impressive but WOW.  It underwent massive construction over the past 5 years and it’s completed state is really quite beautiful, inside, outside, looking up, down, to either side of you, it’s just incredible.  I checked into the hotel and then we headed to explore on foot, which is pretty much all we do everywhere we go.  On Meir Straat is where all the major shopping is and it houses a massively gorgeous mall with stone work out front and gold tile inlays in the entrance.  Waffles were the mission though, with strawberries and whipped cream so we stopped at a few on the way towards old town and finally found what we were looking for, in the midst of getting blown over by the ridiculous wind.  This is not typically a windy city, just like Lesotho doesn’t typically rain like a bitch for days on end in the summer.  I’m apparently lucking out left and right with weather, which is probably preparing me for whatever madness will be India in June-Sept and SE Asia during the typical monsoon season.

As we get to old town I see a perfume shop and I’m dying to go in so we do and find it’s an exclusive store of In Fine where they have this extensive sales pitch and “experience” they want to run you through with breakfast, wine, sniffing, your psychological profile based on what you like and blah blah.  *sprits* *sprits* and we’re off.   Anna is fiending for some Asian cuisine so we head back towards my hotel and enter China town, which is just on the other side of the square.  I was telling them about the China town in San Francisco, which is unbelievable and unfortunately, Antwerp’s is probably worse than Portland’s.  It’s about a block or two long and there is probably one “happy endings” massage parlor and a handful of really expensive restaurants.  China town, expensive?? What?!  Usually these types of places don’t excite me much but Emma had never used chop sticks before, nor had she ever received a fortune cookie post a meal, which baffled me, until we didn’t get a fortune cookie at this place.  Mother!  Time wound down and they needed to catch their train to Essen to meet some guys so we said our good byes and it was weird since we had just spent the last few days together and now, who knows when we’ll see each other again.  I wasn’t sad though because I know we will, whether they come to the States or I head to Sweden during a summer to attend a music festival with them.  We will see each other again!

Yesterday felt like I did nothing until I wrote it all down on my Incredible while sipping a De Konik at a gay bar.  Here’s what it looked like:

Woke early to darkness (it doesn’t begin to get light until about 8am), showered, blew dry my hair AND put on make up (first time in 2 months), walked outside and almost got blown over, surrendered to wearing my beanie, yet again.  I walked to the diamond district, expecting to find everything a bustle but it was dead and apparently closed Saturdays BUT open on Sundays, headed to the open air market in the Theater Plein and was completely blown away by how amazingly incredible it was.  I bought ingredients for a later park sitting lunch of duck sausage, cheese and freshly made bread then a quarter kilo of apple filled, HOT AND FRESH waffles then found a place that was selling small and large bowls of Escargot soup and filled my tummy with a small one of those for my breakfast.  Oh my god it was all so delicious!  I found a fruit stand and wanted to purchase an apple and the kid, who barely spoke English, looked at me like I was crazy for not wanting a full kilo but he weighed my apple and then sent me on my way with a gift of a free apple for my snack.  Walked in a accidental circle, AGAIN, god damn you Belgium, found the main theater that has a café in the breath taking foyer, drank a mocha, read my book but the place was too posh and snooty so I left.  Walked towards old town and saw a cool shop with clothing from a Belgium brand, Chosen, made by a female designer, talked to the sales guy, Tony, who enjoys going to Hermosa Beach, CA to surf during the summer months and he told me about some club night and wrote the name of the place for me.  Walked towards the river and saw a poster for said club, Café D’Anvers, and it said there was some circus performance that night… SOLD!  Proceeded with my very blustery walk to the river promenade, looked out at the water for some time and then decided warmth was needed and entered a gay bar called Popi where an adorable boy, Lennart, was working behind the bar.  I grabbed a De Koninck, local brewed Antwerp beer, and talked to Lennart for some time about world and local politics, health care and unemployment for our respective countries and whatever else.  He suggested I go to the Fashion Museum where Steve Jones had a display of his hats and also that Café D’Anvers. 

Some wretched guys came into the bar, who looked fun at first but after talking with them, were complete dicks.  A few anti-Semitic comments were made, one of the guys said something lewd to me in Flemish, which he then translated, and I gave him a look of disgust.  They made some comment about me being a solo female traveler and that they commended me and then my desire to leave promptly made me a bit nervous they would follow me.  I looked at Lennart and told him the stuff they were saying and he said he’d kick them out but at that moment, the guys finished their drinks, I’m pretty sure they heard what Lennart and I said, and they bid a farewell, a much much welcomed farewell.  It was the only gross part of my day but made me realize I am really going to have to stay on my toes and watch myself and what I do and make sure I don’t get myself into any sticky situations or if I do, can manage to get out of them.  I’m by no means a man hater, some of my best friends are men, gay or straight, but this bull shit would NEVER happen with a woman to a man or a woman to a woman and it makes me feel slightly disgusted with dudes.  I don’t want to feel like I can’t trust any of them but really, I don’t.  We’ll see how that transpires over the next few months and additional journeys.  Maybe I need to spend 3 months in Seattle learning Krav Maga prior to leaving for India?

Anyway, I left Lennart’s bar and headed to the fashion museum, which I had a hard time finding because the first floor looks like any old store front.  Lennart said it would only take about 30 minutes to go through the exhibit so I gave myself about 45 but found that even that wasn’t enough, to really enjoy the different pieces, look at the descriptions of each and watch the video of Steve Jones.  I may go to a masquerade party when I’m back in Seattle and I did get a wee bit of inspiration from one of this hats.  That man is just amazing, the exhibit was quite wonderful, and I highly suggest it.  Maybe don’t go with only 45 minutes left of them being open though J

I stopped by some restaurant in an alley, that was nothing spectacular so I didn’t catch the name, and grabbed a caprese sandwich to go and headed back to the hotel to check out the club night. Called my sister on skype and talked to her for a bit and finally managed to get in touch with Martina, even if only for a hot second.  I found the site for the club and after learning the event they throw on Saturday was from 11pm to 7am, I decided against it.  I’d already pissed away a day in Brugge, I much more enjoy day time activities at this stage in my life and from my world travels already, a club scene is a club scene so I opted for an early night in. Plus, the 3 beers at Popi were enough for alcohol ingestion for one day.  Oh and watch where you step in Belgium.  Dogs shit EVERYWHERE!

xxxo

not so dirty but still bruised