Was I being stared at because I could throw a baseball or because I was exclaiming loudly in English? I couldn't tell which, but it was very clear to me today during my trip the batting cages that Venezuelans are not used to seeing a girl who can throw like a boy. Thankfully, Ivan was around to keep my head from getting too big, but despite this forced humbleness, I had a glorious time today playing ball with Ivan, his dad and a few of his dad's friends from his baseball team. The weather was gorgeous and we spent out whole afternoon in a park, batting, drinking beer and throwing the ball around. We finished our lazy Sunday with prosciutto pizza, Caesar salad and watermelon for dinner and really, right this minute, I cannot tell you why I am still awake to write this blog, with such a good day and all this food under my belt. I guess I just feel pretty guilty, as I have been out of touch with the blogosphere since my return in January.
Right now, my excuse for my radio silence is that I am taking two online courses, along with my regular weekly Spanish lessons. My boss Kelly introduced me to Coursera, an outline course clearinghouse where you can take some really well run Massive Open Online Courses (MOOC's) for free. I am currently taking two on classroom management. Since I have been teaching regular classes all this year, I have learned that I have no freaking idea how to teach a course. From finding appropriate content, to classroom management to assessment, I am in the dark. And with good reason- I have never taken a teaching course in my life. It's amazing that this important skill is not addressed in counseling graduate school, but that is a whole other discussion for a whole other day. In the meantime, I am treading water as a teacher and I want to do MUCH better. So I am currently learning how to manage my class via online classes and last week, I was blessed to attend a training about the International Baccalaureate program in person at my school. At the training, I learned how to teach a Middle Years Program (MYP) course up to the standards of the IB program. It was an enlightening training, as it was the first time I had been exposed to pedagogy or criterion based assessment. I am getting dangerously close to writing the most boring blog of my career, so I will stop here and say that I am currently very happy with my professional development of late, though it has been interfering with my blogging and general free time.
Speaking of free time, I've also been missing my lazy hammock time, though Ivan and I did enjoy some quality Saturday afternoon hammock this weekend. My new personal life accomplishment has been that Ivan and I can fit into a one person hammock a) without falling out due to clumsiness b)without the hammock breaking c) without the hooks ripping out of the wall along with half of my neighbors balcony. I had to admit, Ivan and I have really been enjoying more of the Caracas daylife than night life of late. I am just so tired. I will regularly fall asleep at 9pm if close enough to a soft surface. And sleep for nine hours at a time, completely unmedicated. I can't remember the last time I slept this well in my life. I just feel so blessed, both to be sleeping better and for having a boyfriend that puts up with a girlfriend that prefers to spend her Saturday evenings sleeping. To be fair, during the day, we have quite a ball- recently we have done yoga, park strolling, pool partying, and tai chi. Technically, the tai chi was in the evening, and I didn't actually get to "do it" per se. What was supposed to be a regular practice actually, that particular day, was designated as a time for filming of a TV show about dance and martial arts. So while I did not get to have my first tai chi lesson, I am now going to be on a Venezuelan TV show doing tai chi....or pretending. I am the one in the back looking around because I have no idea what's going on. I expect nothing less from my Venezuelan television debut.
February 9, 2014
January 22, 2014
Embassy < Beach
Well, it has been eventful times since my arrival back. School has basically kicked it into high gear. Between my Wellness course, Elementary classroom guidance, chasing the seniors around trying to get them to finish their college applications and the countless other responsibilities that appear out of nowhere (like providing a sex ed program to parents or coordinating a 4th and 10th grade collaboration to clean up the butterfly garden), I feel like living, breathing Woman Wearing A Million Hats. First year at a new school is such a lesson in humility. As competent as you are as a professional, there really is only so much you can get done.
Meanwhile, my personal to do list is running at about the same pace as my work one. First on my list was finding a flight home for the summer, which, given the current flight situation in Venezuela, was clearly a priority. Thankfully, I scored a ticket home from June 19th-July 31st, which means almost six glorious weeks at home. Meanwhile, next on my list was getting a flight for Ivan to come home to visit. That proved a less productive venture.
After two years of counseling school, I was well aware of my white privilege, middle class privilege, protestant privilege etc. Being a WASP has a lot of positives. However, I was not fully prepared for the extent to which my American privilege reached until I arrived in Venezuela. Almost every advantage I have here is tied to my American passport, and this was NEVER more obvious to me than last week when Ivan and I made the journey to the American Embassy to get his tourist Visa.
Unbeknowst to me, many citizens of other countries need to get a Visa to travel into the United States, even if only for vacation. Also unbeknowst to me was how complicated, expensive and stressful this process is. It took Ivan more than two weeks, multiple visits to the bank, one visit to a tax paperwork advisor, many visits here, and over $170 JUST TO GET AN APPOINTMENT. We thankfully got an appointment much sooner than we suspected- it usually takes over 70 days just to get the appointment. So last Tuesday morning, we left my apartment to head to the embassy at 8am for our 9am appointment. We arrived at 8:30 and stood in a line on the sidewalk outside the embassy. It was wild- men, women and children of all shapes and sizes waiting in an incredibly long line wrapping all the way up the hill from the embassy, all waiting patiently just to be let into the embassy. After a while, a woman started yelling appointment times, which I assumed meant we would head to our appointment. That was not the case.
We were literally herded into another bank of lines- our one line was split into three. Some of the embassy workers pointed out bags or phones that weren't allowed in the line. It has the air of a cattle sale- everyone was confused and wondering if they indeed had what it would take to make the sale. The woman who herded us into the second line- the second of the seventh Ivan would end up being in- then got onto a loudspeaker and spoke in Spanish about all the things we could not take into the embassy with us. Phones, large bags, zip up folders etc. Then we waited. And waited. And waited. And felt, well, uncomfortable. The air was humid with frustration. The visa seekers radiated confusion and apprehension; the workers radiated annoyance and judgement. In our third line, we were under an awning, creeping slowly towards a desk, where an embassy worker, after taking one look at my passport, told me in no uncertain terms that after this line, I could no longer accompany Ivan. I was bummed. I wanted to go to his appointment with him so they knew for sure that he was not using me as a drug mule or something crazy. Besides, I am charming- who could say no to me? Especially if I cry- who can say no to such a ugly cryer?
The embassy worker moved me to under another awning with concrete slabs for seats and there I sat for three more hours as I watched Ivan go through line, after line, after line. Next they checked his documents. Next they checked his appointment confirmation. Next he got in line to actually enter the embassy. Next he stood in line in the embassy. Finally, he had his appointment. They asked him five questions, did not accept any of his carefully prepared paperwork, and flatly denied him. Section 214b. After the fact, we realized we just had no chance. We had EVERY required document, our travel plans were rock solid, our ties to Venezuela clearly demonstrated our intent to return. We had legitimate reasons to go and legitimate reasons to return. But none of that mattered. That embassy officer only saw a young, single, Latino male and poor Ivan was dead in the water. Yes, I realize this is a public forum, and yes, I realize this is a pretty major accusation. And yes, I really love my friends who work at the embassy. But I will say this, generally, to you, Venezuelan US Embassy- You are profiling. You profiled my boyfriend and I am fucking pissed off about it. You can have my middle finger up whatever orifice you choose- be my guest.
Well, now that that is off my chest, Ivan and I did get to lament our disappointment in style, because last weekend we went to the beach, along with Walli, Jason, Colleen, Gordon, Chris and Tendai. First, on Friday, we had the VANAS conference, a nationwide conference of all North American style schools in Venenzuela. We had a terrific keynote speaker, great food and I must say, my presentation on US College Admissions was very well received. I also got to network with other counselors, which was incredibly helpful, and as an added bonus, I almost stepped on an iguana the size of my arm on the sidewalk. Living here continues be a walk on the wild side.
From the conference, we were only about two hours from one of the better beaches in Venezuela- Morrocoy. We left from the conference to a very nice posada outside of the main town. It had it's own pool and nice rooms, and our favorite part, a private dock that winded through a ton of mangroves and finally opened up to a beautiful view of the water. Both Saturday and Sunday the posada took us by boat to a nearby beach, where we snorkeled, drank delicious, fresh coconut drinks, people watched and soaked up the beautiful scenery. It was perfect, and the perfect way to soak our sorrows away. Added wildlife bonus: the posada had the cutest kitten with the best personality ever that almost came home with me. Ivan made me choose between him and the cat. It was a hard decision.
It was nice spending time with all my friends, since we hadn't gotten to catch up much since the holiday. And it was nice to see another part of the country. And in general, life continues to be busy and good. Now if only we can convince the United States to let my boyfriend come visit my friends and family, my life will dandy. Here's hoping!
Meanwhile, my personal to do list is running at about the same pace as my work one. First on my list was finding a flight home for the summer, which, given the current flight situation in Venezuela, was clearly a priority. Thankfully, I scored a ticket home from June 19th-July 31st, which means almost six glorious weeks at home. Meanwhile, next on my list was getting a flight for Ivan to come home to visit. That proved a less productive venture.
After two years of counseling school, I was well aware of my white privilege, middle class privilege, protestant privilege etc. Being a WASP has a lot of positives. However, I was not fully prepared for the extent to which my American privilege reached until I arrived in Venezuela. Almost every advantage I have here is tied to my American passport, and this was NEVER more obvious to me than last week when Ivan and I made the journey to the American Embassy to get his tourist Visa.
Unbeknowst to me, many citizens of other countries need to get a Visa to travel into the United States, even if only for vacation. Also unbeknowst to me was how complicated, expensive and stressful this process is. It took Ivan more than two weeks, multiple visits to the bank, one visit to a tax paperwork advisor, many visits here, and over $170 JUST TO GET AN APPOINTMENT. We thankfully got an appointment much sooner than we suspected- it usually takes over 70 days just to get the appointment. So last Tuesday morning, we left my apartment to head to the embassy at 8am for our 9am appointment. We arrived at 8:30 and stood in a line on the sidewalk outside the embassy. It was wild- men, women and children of all shapes and sizes waiting in an incredibly long line wrapping all the way up the hill from the embassy, all waiting patiently just to be let into the embassy. After a while, a woman started yelling appointment times, which I assumed meant we would head to our appointment. That was not the case.
We were literally herded into another bank of lines- our one line was split into three. Some of the embassy workers pointed out bags or phones that weren't allowed in the line. It has the air of a cattle sale- everyone was confused and wondering if they indeed had what it would take to make the sale. The woman who herded us into the second line- the second of the seventh Ivan would end up being in- then got onto a loudspeaker and spoke in Spanish about all the things we could not take into the embassy with us. Phones, large bags, zip up folders etc. Then we waited. And waited. And waited. And felt, well, uncomfortable. The air was humid with frustration. The visa seekers radiated confusion and apprehension; the workers radiated annoyance and judgement. In our third line, we were under an awning, creeping slowly towards a desk, where an embassy worker, after taking one look at my passport, told me in no uncertain terms that after this line, I could no longer accompany Ivan. I was bummed. I wanted to go to his appointment with him so they knew for sure that he was not using me as a drug mule or something crazy. Besides, I am charming- who could say no to me? Especially if I cry- who can say no to such a ugly cryer?
The embassy worker moved me to under another awning with concrete slabs for seats and there I sat for three more hours as I watched Ivan go through line, after line, after line. Next they checked his documents. Next they checked his appointment confirmation. Next he got in line to actually enter the embassy. Next he stood in line in the embassy. Finally, he had his appointment. They asked him five questions, did not accept any of his carefully prepared paperwork, and flatly denied him. Section 214b. After the fact, we realized we just had no chance. We had EVERY required document, our travel plans were rock solid, our ties to Venezuela clearly demonstrated our intent to return. We had legitimate reasons to go and legitimate reasons to return. But none of that mattered. That embassy officer only saw a young, single, Latino male and poor Ivan was dead in the water. Yes, I realize this is a public forum, and yes, I realize this is a pretty major accusation. And yes, I really love my friends who work at the embassy. But I will say this, generally, to you, Venezuelan US Embassy- You are profiling. You profiled my boyfriend and I am fucking pissed off about it. You can have my middle finger up whatever orifice you choose- be my guest.
Well, now that that is off my chest, Ivan and I did get to lament our disappointment in style, because last weekend we went to the beach, along with Walli, Jason, Colleen, Gordon, Chris and Tendai. First, on Friday, we had the VANAS conference, a nationwide conference of all North American style schools in Venenzuela. We had a terrific keynote speaker, great food and I must say, my presentation on US College Admissions was very well received. I also got to network with other counselors, which was incredibly helpful, and as an added bonus, I almost stepped on an iguana the size of my arm on the sidewalk. Living here continues be a walk on the wild side.
From the conference, we were only about two hours from one of the better beaches in Venezuela- Morrocoy. We left from the conference to a very nice posada outside of the main town. It had it's own pool and nice rooms, and our favorite part, a private dock that winded through a ton of mangroves and finally opened up to a beautiful view of the water. Both Saturday and Sunday the posada took us by boat to a nearby beach, where we snorkeled, drank delicious, fresh coconut drinks, people watched and soaked up the beautiful scenery. It was perfect, and the perfect way to soak our sorrows away. Added wildlife bonus: the posada had the cutest kitten with the best personality ever that almost came home with me. Ivan made me choose between him and the cat. It was a hard decision.
It was nice spending time with all my friends, since we hadn't gotten to catch up much since the holiday. And it was nice to see another part of the country. And in general, life continues to be busy and good. Now if only we can convince the United States to let my boyfriend come visit my friends and family, my life will dandy. Here's hoping!
January 8, 2014
The Fun Doesn't Stop When the Vacation Ends
Home sweet Caracas home! My mother would disagree with this statement. Home, she said, is ALWAYS where your mother is! :)
Seriously though, it's great to be back in Caracas. I am, deep down, a habitual creature and I was so relieved to get back on my normal schedule. And so happy to see my friends! I missed them, particularly mi novio! Ivan was kind enough to pick me up at the airport at six in the morning, after he had just arrived from Spain a mere 12 hours earlier. He was there on time, with a smile on his face and a rose in his hand. That, my friends, is a how you make a very happy girl.
So I got home and promptly slept the entire day, then spent half the night unpacking my goodies. Ivan probably thought I was crazy, though he was nice enough to not say anything. I came back with the most random assortment of American knick knacks. Pens with feathers, fancy soap, peanut butter, red sequin slippers, whiskey, a bath mat, a baseball mitt, an arsenal of creams, washes, and glosses, and most troublesome to Ivan, multiple packages of dried mangos. The ensuing conversation looked something like this:
Ivan: Tracey! Mangos??!?! Those are free here! Literally, they rot on the trees because no one wants them, except you apparently! You brought DRIED MANGOS when you could get fresh ones LITERALLY EVERYWHERE????
Tracey: But these are from TRADER JOES.
Ivan: :::Blank Stare:::
Tracey: TRADER JOES!!!!!
After unpacking, I pretty much slept the rest of the weekend. It was recovery time from my whirlwind of travel. On Saturday afternoon, we did visit a very cool park in northeastern Caracas that was about as random as my suitcase contents. Along with normal park things like grassy knolls, lakes, tennis courts, and couples making out everywhere, this park had a full replica wooden ship from the 1600's, crocodiles, monkeys, a planetarium, and the largest bird I had ever seen. Ivan said this same bird tried to eat his sister when she was a baby, which I would not only believe, given it's size, but also shocked me, as it then became both the largest and oldest bird I had ever seen (Ivan's sister is 29).
After the park, we searched in vain for the 37th time for beer, but found that most everything was still closed or sold out of things. As the week has continued, I realize that the rest of Caracas is most definitely still on vacation. Lame. But anyways, Ivan and I were able to string together enough stuff to make cheeseburgers, because having just come back from the states, that was the ONLY THING I WANTED TO EAT LIKE EVER AGAIN. And those burgers were outrageously good, and went well with the whiskey I brought, since that quickly became our only booze option in all of Caracas.
This first week back to school has been remarkably smooth, probably because half our students are apparently also still on vacation. I've been crazy busy working on some big projects, but it's nice to be using my brainpower again. I have, however, noticed that my 10 hours of hard thought is taking a toll on my eyes- by the end of the day, I can barely see what's across the room my eyes are so tired. My eyes have now fallen into a category of other things on my body, including my calf muscles, my all of my hair and my feet. When things about my body change, I play a game called "Caracas or Thirty". Is this thing changing because I am in a new strange place or because I am getting F'ing old? Are my eyes getting tired because I am old or because I have a terrible Venezuelan bacteria in my retinas? Are my hair and eyelashes falling out because I am getting old or because the water here is chock full of hair eating parasites? Is the skin on my feet molting like a snake because it's old or because I have Venezuelan Leprosy? Are my calves super tight because I am a lazy ass sedentary old person or because I am about to die of some paralytic Venezuelan virus that starts with the calves? This, as you can imagine, is an incredibly fun and imaginative game that usually ends with me trying to read WebMd in Spanish. In all seriousness though, these changes don't phase me in the least- in fact, for every random thing my body does that is less-than-exciting, it does something else super cool. For example, I sleep SO GOOD here. UNMEDICATED. Like, holy crap. I also lose weight without trying. I can go bald and blind but I will be skinny dammit! For every time God closes a door, he opens a window:).
So in conclusion, being home for Christmas was amazing. Seeing friends and family was just what I needed. And all my previous concerns were misguided. I had a great time with no emotional baggage either in the States or coming back. And, I got to eat so much Chic-Fil-A! I couldn't be happier both with my trip and with coming home. I tell you what, I am BLESSED. Even if I am going bald!
Seriously though, it's great to be back in Caracas. I am, deep down, a habitual creature and I was so relieved to get back on my normal schedule. And so happy to see my friends! I missed them, particularly mi novio! Ivan was kind enough to pick me up at the airport at six in the morning, after he had just arrived from Spain a mere 12 hours earlier. He was there on time, with a smile on his face and a rose in his hand. That, my friends, is a how you make a very happy girl.
So I got home and promptly slept the entire day, then spent half the night unpacking my goodies. Ivan probably thought I was crazy, though he was nice enough to not say anything. I came back with the most random assortment of American knick knacks. Pens with feathers, fancy soap, peanut butter, red sequin slippers, whiskey, a bath mat, a baseball mitt, an arsenal of creams, washes, and glosses, and most troublesome to Ivan, multiple packages of dried mangos. The ensuing conversation looked something like this:
Ivan: Tracey! Mangos??!?! Those are free here! Literally, they rot on the trees because no one wants them, except you apparently! You brought DRIED MANGOS when you could get fresh ones LITERALLY EVERYWHERE????
Tracey: But these are from TRADER JOES.
Ivan: :::Blank Stare:::
Tracey: TRADER JOES!!!!!
After unpacking, I pretty much slept the rest of the weekend. It was recovery time from my whirlwind of travel. On Saturday afternoon, we did visit a very cool park in northeastern Caracas that was about as random as my suitcase contents. Along with normal park things like grassy knolls, lakes, tennis courts, and couples making out everywhere, this park had a full replica wooden ship from the 1600's, crocodiles, monkeys, a planetarium, and the largest bird I had ever seen. Ivan said this same bird tried to eat his sister when she was a baby, which I would not only believe, given it's size, but also shocked me, as it then became both the largest and oldest bird I had ever seen (Ivan's sister is 29).
After the park, we searched in vain for the 37th time for beer, but found that most everything was still closed or sold out of things. As the week has continued, I realize that the rest of Caracas is most definitely still on vacation. Lame. But anyways, Ivan and I were able to string together enough stuff to make cheeseburgers, because having just come back from the states, that was the ONLY THING I WANTED TO EAT LIKE EVER AGAIN. And those burgers were outrageously good, and went well with the whiskey I brought, since that quickly became our only booze option in all of Caracas.
This first week back to school has been remarkably smooth, probably because half our students are apparently also still on vacation. I've been crazy busy working on some big projects, but it's nice to be using my brainpower again. I have, however, noticed that my 10 hours of hard thought is taking a toll on my eyes- by the end of the day, I can barely see what's across the room my eyes are so tired. My eyes have now fallen into a category of other things on my body, including my calf muscles, my all of my hair and my feet. When things about my body change, I play a game called "Caracas or Thirty". Is this thing changing because I am in a new strange place or because I am getting F'ing old? Are my eyes getting tired because I am old or because I have a terrible Venezuelan bacteria in my retinas? Are my hair and eyelashes falling out because I am getting old or because the water here is chock full of hair eating parasites? Is the skin on my feet molting like a snake because it's old or because I have Venezuelan Leprosy? Are my calves super tight because I am a lazy ass sedentary old person or because I am about to die of some paralytic Venezuelan virus that starts with the calves? This, as you can imagine, is an incredibly fun and imaginative game that usually ends with me trying to read WebMd in Spanish. In all seriousness though, these changes don't phase me in the least- in fact, for every random thing my body does that is less-than-exciting, it does something else super cool. For example, I sleep SO GOOD here. UNMEDICATED. Like, holy crap. I also lose weight without trying. I can go bald and blind but I will be skinny dammit! For every time God closes a door, he opens a window:).
So in conclusion, being home for Christmas was amazing. Seeing friends and family was just what I needed. And all my previous concerns were misguided. I had a great time with no emotional baggage either in the States or coming back. And, I got to eat so much Chic-Fil-A! I couldn't be happier both with my trip and with coming home. I tell you what, I am BLESSED. Even if I am going bald!
December 13, 2013
Home Sweet Home
The unbelievable has happened. Tomorrow I head back to the States. How has time passed so fast? I cannot believe the time for my first trip home has come. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I am not as excited as I thought I would be. Maybe it's because I just had a stellar three days in paradise, or maybe it's because I am ungodly tired, or maybe it's just because I am not really looking forward to 12 hours in airports starting at 3am tomorrow.Whatever the reason, I am pretty confident that I will be very excited by the time I arrive that RayKoons Christmas extravaganza tomorrow night!
In all honestly, I think some of my general feeling of trepidation is due to the uncertainty of trying to reestablish myself in my homeland for short time, then returning back to my new country immediately after. Travelling between worlds is undoubtedly a jarring experience. I wonder- will my relationships back home be the same? Can friendship survive when it's carried out on different continents? I hope the answer is yes.
Anyways, enough moping. I just spent three days being treated like a queen, so it's hard to feel even the littlest bit sorry for myself. Colleen, Sean, Chris, Tendai, Holly and I went very early Tuesday morning to Los Roques, an archipelago (which means a group of islands) about 40 minutes off the coast of Caracas. There, we spent three days sunning ourselves, snorkeling, swimming and eating. The posada we stayed in , Paraiso Azul, took such good care of us, getting us fattened up on DELICIOUS food, carting us around to the various islands, and providing us with nice soft beds to sleep the burns away. As Colleen said, we spent three days getting our asses wiped, and we have never been so clean. Really, that was probably the most pampered experience of my life. It was IN-CREDIBLE. My favorite part, besides the food, was probably snorkeling on Fransiqui, one of the closer islands to Gran Roque, the main island where we stayed. Fransiqui had a lovely sandbar we could play on, a bar we could drink at and a wonderful little lagoon perfect for snorkeling. Chris and I spent over an hour exploring the mangroves and a large coral shelf that had so many cool fishes, and randomly, a huge statue of Mary on the the seafloor. Why not? Anyways, it was a phenomenal trip, far better than this paltry paragraph has described.
So tomorrow, first thing after I get off the plane, it's a Starbucks Egg Nog Latte. Then, I get my bag full of goodies and hug Anne really, really hard. Then it's 2.5 weeks of loving life back with those I love the most!
In all honestly, I think some of my general feeling of trepidation is due to the uncertainty of trying to reestablish myself in my homeland for short time, then returning back to my new country immediately after. Travelling between worlds is undoubtedly a jarring experience. I wonder- will my relationships back home be the same? Can friendship survive when it's carried out on different continents? I hope the answer is yes.
Anyways, enough moping. I just spent three days being treated like a queen, so it's hard to feel even the littlest bit sorry for myself. Colleen, Sean, Chris, Tendai, Holly and I went very early Tuesday morning to Los Roques, an archipelago (which means a group of islands) about 40 minutes off the coast of Caracas. There, we spent three days sunning ourselves, snorkeling, swimming and eating. The posada we stayed in , Paraiso Azul, took such good care of us, getting us fattened up on DELICIOUS food, carting us around to the various islands, and providing us with nice soft beds to sleep the burns away. As Colleen said, we spent three days getting our asses wiped, and we have never been so clean. Really, that was probably the most pampered experience of my life. It was IN-CREDIBLE. My favorite part, besides the food, was probably snorkeling on Fransiqui, one of the closer islands to Gran Roque, the main island where we stayed. Fransiqui had a lovely sandbar we could play on, a bar we could drink at and a wonderful little lagoon perfect for snorkeling. Chris and I spent over an hour exploring the mangroves and a large coral shelf that had so many cool fishes, and randomly, a huge statue of Mary on the the seafloor. Why not? Anyways, it was a phenomenal trip, far better than this paltry paragraph has described.
So tomorrow, first thing after I get off the plane, it's a Starbucks Egg Nog Latte. Then, I get my bag full of goodies and hug Anne really, really hard. Then it's 2.5 weeks of loving life back with those I love the most!
December 4, 2013
My Next Ten Days Are Going To Be Kind Of Awesome
It's winter break! Party on! Besides one more "virtual" school class, I am free as a bird for a month! Because of the extremely contentious elections coming on Sunday, we had to close school a solid eight days early, so the next few days we teach the kids "virtually" and then next week everyone gets an early vacation. Since I booked my flights home before the change of date, that means I get a whole week and a half to enjoy life, slowly pack up and relax. At first I was bummed that I wasn't heading home earlier. But then, I realized, hey, everyone else will be at work, and I haven't really gotten to prowl around here much during daylight hours, so let's make the best of it!
Today Walli, Jason, Jackie and I officially started prowling, heading down "El Hatillo", an urbanization not far from our Los Samanes neighborhood. El Hatillo is known for still having a very quaint "old town" that surrounds an equally quaint town square, which, like every other square in this country, is named after Simon Bolivar. Our purpose for visiting, besides taking in the quaintness of it all, was to visit a well-known shop called Hannsi, which boasts an enormous selection of Venezuelan artisan gifts from all over the country. I'm not going to lie- this place was kind of awesome. It had all kinds of neat stuff, and many beautiful items similar to the things I have seen in my explorations around the country- jewelry and woodwork from Canaima, baskets from Orinoco, dolls from Tovar etc. It was all there, along with a cafe selling nothing but coffee and chocolate. Yes. What you are thinking is right. I wanted to pitch a tent and live there. And yes, you are all getting chocolate in your stockings, because I bought the place out. To be fair, Venezuela makes some damn good chocolate. We spent about two hours roaming around the store, playing the fun game of "how much would this be in dollars". Turns out, though some items were quite expensive, some were definitely muy barato. I was able to get a lot of great gifts to bring home to my friends and family. I refrained from buying myself a load of stuff, but only because Jackie and I promised ourselves that we would come back and spend lots of money on ourselves after the break. We did, however, buy delicious cafe con chocolates- basically a mocha with way too much whipped creme and syrup on top. Which I promptly burnt myself with, but it was worth it. After we completed our spending spree, we stumbled upon a delicious chocolatier whilst looking for a taxi and got even more chocolate....for ourselves though. Lavender and honey chocolate is definitely not going to make it back to the states.
My prowling will continue tomorrow, with a trip up the Avila for a special mojito night at the bar that is at the top of the teleferico. I'm more excited about the view at night from the top of the Avila than I am the mojitos. Then on Friday, Colleen made friends with a baseball player from the Tiberones baseball team, and he is hooking us up with free tickets for the Leones vs. Tiberones baseball game! I am so excited to see another game. I had so much fun at the last one. The one bummer is that this time there will be no beer showers. Venezuela has a law called leyo seco- around elections, they stop selling booze. I guess they want people to have clear heads when they vote? It's so contentious though, I feel like everyone could use a few just to make it through the weekend. I think the US State Department would agree- they sent out an ominous email this morning advising us to basically lock ourselves in our apartments for the weekend because to the election, which we are apparently flagrantly ignoring. I kind of don't have a choice, because Ivan's sister is getting married on Saturday! Yes, my first Venezuelan wedding! This is going to be a fancy Boda too, so I get to re-wear my pretty dress form the Marine Corps ball. AND I get to go back to my gay salon to get my hair and makeup done again. Yessssss.
Don't think that my fun stops because the weekend does. On Monday, my sweet Ivan is leaving me to go to Spain for three weeks to visit his best friend Ricardo. To deal with the sadness of losing him for so long, I, along with Colleen, Sean, Chris, Tendai and Holly, are treating ourselves to three glorious days in Los Roques! Los Roques is a series of islands that make up a Venezuelan national park--> see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Los_Roques_archipelago. Because it is a park, it is not really commercialized and apparently STUNNINGLY gorgeous. Three days in paradise? Don't mind if I do! We return late Thursday, leaving me Friday to pack up and Saturday it's go time....straight to the RayKoons Christmas party!
So ya, it's winter break and I am going to enjoy every little glorious drop of it. :)
Today Walli, Jason, Jackie and I officially started prowling, heading down "El Hatillo", an urbanization not far from our Los Samanes neighborhood. El Hatillo is known for still having a very quaint "old town" that surrounds an equally quaint town square, which, like every other square in this country, is named after Simon Bolivar. Our purpose for visiting, besides taking in the quaintness of it all, was to visit a well-known shop called Hannsi, which boasts an enormous selection of Venezuelan artisan gifts from all over the country. I'm not going to lie- this place was kind of awesome. It had all kinds of neat stuff, and many beautiful items similar to the things I have seen in my explorations around the country- jewelry and woodwork from Canaima, baskets from Orinoco, dolls from Tovar etc. It was all there, along with a cafe selling nothing but coffee and chocolate. Yes. What you are thinking is right. I wanted to pitch a tent and live there. And yes, you are all getting chocolate in your stockings, because I bought the place out. To be fair, Venezuela makes some damn good chocolate. We spent about two hours roaming around the store, playing the fun game of "how much would this be in dollars". Turns out, though some items were quite expensive, some were definitely muy barato. I was able to get a lot of great gifts to bring home to my friends and family. I refrained from buying myself a load of stuff, but only because Jackie and I promised ourselves that we would come back and spend lots of money on ourselves after the break. We did, however, buy delicious cafe con chocolates- basically a mocha with way too much whipped creme and syrup on top. Which I promptly burnt myself with, but it was worth it. After we completed our spending spree, we stumbled upon a delicious chocolatier whilst looking for a taxi and got even more chocolate....for ourselves though. Lavender and honey chocolate is definitely not going to make it back to the states.
My prowling will continue tomorrow, with a trip up the Avila for a special mojito night at the bar that is at the top of the teleferico. I'm more excited about the view at night from the top of the Avila than I am the mojitos. Then on Friday, Colleen made friends with a baseball player from the Tiberones baseball team, and he is hooking us up with free tickets for the Leones vs. Tiberones baseball game! I am so excited to see another game. I had so much fun at the last one. The one bummer is that this time there will be no beer showers. Venezuela has a law called leyo seco- around elections, they stop selling booze. I guess they want people to have clear heads when they vote? It's so contentious though, I feel like everyone could use a few just to make it through the weekend. I think the US State Department would agree- they sent out an ominous email this morning advising us to basically lock ourselves in our apartments for the weekend because to the election, which we are apparently flagrantly ignoring. I kind of don't have a choice, because Ivan's sister is getting married on Saturday! Yes, my first Venezuelan wedding! This is going to be a fancy Boda too, so I get to re-wear my pretty dress form the Marine Corps ball. AND I get to go back to my gay salon to get my hair and makeup done again. Yessssss.
Don't think that my fun stops because the weekend does. On Monday, my sweet Ivan is leaving me to go to Spain for three weeks to visit his best friend Ricardo. To deal with the sadness of losing him for so long, I, along with Colleen, Sean, Chris, Tendai and Holly, are treating ourselves to three glorious days in Los Roques! Los Roques is a series of islands that make up a Venezuelan national park--> see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Los_Roques_archipelago. Because it is a park, it is not really commercialized and apparently STUNNINGLY gorgeous. Three days in paradise? Don't mind if I do! We return late Thursday, leaving me Friday to pack up and Saturday it's go time....straight to the RayKoons Christmas party!
So ya, it's winter break and I am going to enjoy every little glorious drop of it. :)
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