cogelo suave

I’m weighed down by my mothers worries and her rich Italian cooking. No worries, I’ll shed the weight soon after I fully commit to a lesser lifestyle of looser timetables and overlooked preservatives. It’s hot here. A familiar heat. No te preocupes!

Maybe you follow this blog because your my crazy Aunt Val you ships all my endeavors (shoutout a Aunt Val) or maybe you truly care how I navigate my unique travel experience, regardless thank you for following. Since I’ve taken a 5 month hiatus of family time and recalibration into a new profession I’ve be awarded time to myself and time within myself and realized that without the Thai beaches and backdrops, I am quite insecure. Questioning of my beauty and capability, and, sadly, my value to a man. It sounds more pathetic than it feels, but hey, life is a journey and this is where I am. If this isn’t what you’re into reading about, ok? ...But, regardless, I am quite self aware. I’ll boast about that. It’s something I’ve really become proud of as a little baby-child female traveler that can spot a scammer from a mile away. I’m not always the least gullible but that’s not question at hand. That being said, I know I’m beautiful. But not in the “I’ll start a war for you” kind of price-marries-a-peasant way. I’m beautiful in a “all women are beautiful” kind of way. And I’m okay with that. I’ve got America’s Next Top Model loser level confidence, especially with a little whiskey in me, and I cannot be bothered. But my point is, it’s important be aware of yourself and realistic with who you are and what you’re capable of. Cause I’m no 10/10, but I will get those free drinks when my cards maxes out

I love my friends. They support me. They understand me and share their version of this life we designed for ourselves and chased down new roads, depicting different detours and strangers who became lovers or enemies. They encourage me to stretch my muscles, rather than stress my liver. Travel expedites family bonds and I’m so grateful for more sisters 

Bangkok was like playing Candyland. Colombia feels like chutes and ladders. Thailand’s theme was 3 square meals of accessibility. Food, people, places, and English was at your fingertips. Looking back, I now realize that it was the feeling of achievement (awarded by none other than my own capabilities) that I was drunk on. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t take a midnight train back there if I could. But the Thai season in my life has ended and I can only appreciate it for the purpose it played in my life. Colombia’s theme is challenge. Hindered by my unawareabouts and the maze of the language I get dizzy from flipping my tongue to enunciate each "r", I have none other than the warm welcome of understanding foreigners and harmless catcalls of men who acknowledge the sweeter moments of each day. I want to learn Spanish so badly. But it’s like a dance move I’m always one half step slow at. Unlike the people, Spanish is unforgiving and holds a minefield of mistakes i seek to master in the coming months.

I love the amount of conversation here. It’s so much more than a short lived transactional exchange of desire-and-response. Everything is an inquiry, a negotiation. Sympathetic locals pull me aside for an “I’m going to be very honest with you” heart-to-heart then follow with a second or third frustrated exasperation when I stand my ground. These trigger-happy emotions fluctuate fast, firing shots at one another's credibility, though no one takes offense. Third parties get involved sometimes and at some point within the expanse of 3-5 minutes, this panel reaches a feasible agreement over something as trivial as cab fare. 

Speaking of hidden mines, the dangers of this pace have yet to unveil themselves to me, but I am warned are always lurking. Skeevy motorbike drivers who mislead the unknowing or snag a neglected backpack. I gotta give a shoutout to my guardian angel, she's a total badass and skrrrrts me away from dangers and ledges waaaaayy tooo many times a day, I'm sure. It's a strange process, growing eyes in your back and always wearing a wary face for even those who hand-make your buttery arepa. But I love this different way to travel, to build a career and repair oneself. I like seeing machine guns and machetes on my way to work, I enjoy the excitement of tangible danger, and the need to put up a very defensive front for it. I like having a reason to be protective and wear my flexed face and stern muscles every day. It is everything and nothing like you could ever expect.

A few of my favorite things....

GETSEMANI

PALENQUE  DE BENKOS

(First free black, self-governed town in the Americas established over 400 years ago. It's a place where Congo/Spanish culture could celebrate and live freely in their culture, establishing their own practices for police, language, religion, and food cultivation)

BAZURTO MERCADO 

(ZOCO SORONGO)

Here is a great link to the full journey of a gringo into this beautifully chaotic ancient market in the "real" Cartagena

Cheers to a beautiful new place to call home

Song on repeat: No Lo Trates