TRAVEL TRIAGE- AFRICA

I have done some wildly impulsive and last-minute things in my life. Once when I worked for American I flew to Tokyo for the weekend when my flight to California 10 minutes before canceled. I traveled across the Kazakh steppe in a Kia. I hung out of a Blackhawk over Sadr City Iraq and tossed out Beanie Babies. However, what happened yesterday was a little too much for even me. My heart beat didn't slow down until somewhere over Senegal.

It was 930am on what I believed was the 27th of August. I was leisurely surfing the internet and making a long list of things I had to do before my flight to Africa in 26 1/2 hours. And then it happened. Gmail informed me that it was indeed not the 27th of August but the 28th of August and my flight in 26 1/2 hours? Well, it was actually in 2 1/2 hours. Seriously. I did what all girls in a panic do. I called my mom- who graciously agreed to leave work and drive me to the airport. I had 20 minutes to prepare and I was in my pajamas. But, I knew what I had to do. I had to conduct travel triage. After 10 minutes of running in circles around the house and convincing myself that my hair was not actually on fire...I made the call. There was no time to pack, no time to sort the clothes on the laundry room floor, and no time to shower. There was time enough to print instructions for my arrival in Kenya, throw on yesterday's clothes, and quite literally shove into 2 suitcases the medicines, art supplies, and children's clothes my friends, family and I are donating to the orphanage. And then I was off. And somehow I made the flight (with just enough time to spare at the airport to grab my last sushi roll for the month.)

On the plane I conducted an assessment of my situation. I indeed had 2 suitcases of children's supplies...I have messy hair and dirty, wrinkled clothes...I did remember my passport and immunization card (how I don't know)...I had no mosquito netting, no bedding, no toiletries, and no shoes...In the backpack I grabbed which was still packed from Hawaii, I had the following: 1 pair of swim goggles, 2 bikinis, 2 flip flops matching the ones I was wearing, 3 tank tops, 1 pair of running shorts, 1 pair of capris, 1 jeans, 1 puca shell necklace, and one loud Hawaiian shirt...and 1 pair of surgical loupes (stay tuned for a later explanation of these.) My destination...Rural Kenya and Kilimanjaro.

Although upset at myself for not knowing the date (but giving myself some credit for the fact I have been on the road for 2 months in 13 countries on 3 continents and the Pacific Ocean), I realized the humor was in the irony. Where I am going, no one will care what's in my backpack, what I look like, or the fact I am wearing my only pair of underwear. The orphanage I will be staying at is full of 350 Kenyan children who literally have nothing- no parents, no homes, no clothes, and some have no futures because their sole possession in life is AIDS. And so what that I can't hike Kilimanjaro this time (considering it takes more than flip flops and puca shells), because there is always next time. I am lucky.

Besides, it occurred to me while conducting travel triage that this trip...well, it isn't about me. And the medicines and art supplies I did manage to get out the door with...well, they certainly were the most critical things I could have chosen.

Only in America

Our trip across the United States has opened our eyes to some truly American sights. In the middle of Iowa we saw signs along the corn fields that warned drivers that foreign oil supports terrorists. In Sturgis, South Dakota we rolled into town a week after the 67th annual motorcycle rally was held. Bikers wearing their black leather uniform could be seen throughout our trip on a post-Sturgis tour. We saw rows and rows of corn; sunsets over the Rocky Mountains; men in cowboy hats and women in cowboy boots; and pick up trucks hauling hay from their farms.

But nothing beats what we saw on our last day of the trip.

After a great hike in Craters of the Moon National Park in Idaho, we headed north toward Sun Valley. Driving along a desolate state route, we passed few cars. The day was hot; the sun was beating down on the black top and dry fields on all sides sustained little life . You expected tumble weed to blow across the road at any moment. The last cross street was 20 miles back and the next one wouldn't come for 15-20 miles. We were literally in the middle of nowhere. And then he appeared. A lone "pilgrim" without a shirt, sweating and hauling a life-size cross down the road. Seriously. It was made from wood and had to weigh a few hundred pounds. The only modification from the cross of Christian fame is that this one had little luggage wheels attached to the bottom. So technically, the man was rolling his cross through Idaho, but given the heat and the loneliness of the land, I don't discount his devotion based on those little wheels.

Only in America.

National Park Mania

In Iowa we purchased a national parks annual pass - for $80 a year, you can get into any national park in the country. A great deal, especially given that in the past few days we've visited at least a half dozen: the Badlands and Mount Rushmore in South Dakota, Yellowstone and Grand Tetons in Wyoming, and Craters of the Moon in Idaho. We spent a ton of time hiking, exploring, ohhing and awwing over the wildlife (I have to say, I was amazed by the bison).

In Yellowstone we even saw a family of black bears (happily, we saw them when we were driving and not when we were hiking. We took the bear warnings seriously and while hiking we would sing songs to keep the away!)

At Mount Rushmore we got caught in the rain waiting for the light show, which they do every night. As the park ranger discussed the history of the four men, the rain started to fall. By the time the lights came on the stone carvings, the Four Presidents were wearing rain masks, barely recognizable.

We were also able to get a tour of a new national park: The command center and missile silo of the Minuteman 2. In the early 90s when the Russians and the US negotiated the START treaty, each country agreed to decommission hundreds of nuclear missiles. In the US, most of those were located in South Dakota. Each country also agreed to allow the other to keep one site as a museum/national park. Right outside the badlands, if you make a reservation far enough in advance, you can tour one of our former nuclear missile command centers. The command centers sit 60 feet below the ground under little ranch style houses (as Liam commented, Hollywood got it surprisingly right in the opening scene of WarGames). The men who manned the missiles -- i.e. the guys who would turn the keys on setting off a nuclear war -- worked 24-hour shifts down below these little houses in the middle of the South Dakota prairies. Everything was left just as it was the day the missiles were decommissioned in 1993.

So it's been a great few days. The only thing we couldn't quite comprehend were the number of RV's guzzling their way through the parks. It is incomprehensible to me why you need a bus-sized vehicle (often towing a van or pick up truck behind it) to tour around the west. I understand it can be a nice place to sleep, but the green part of me is horrified every time I see one round the corner!

Driving Tips

Two weeks and two warnings...

Right before we left Washington, DC I was rushing around trying to get ready to leave our life on the east, pack up and head west. I was driving from Arlington into DC when I got a call from my Aunt Barb. I had missed her calls a few times so I picked up the call and we chatted about the upcoming visit. Of course, I knew that talking on a cell phone in DC was illegal. And, I also saw the police car driving right in front of me. But I was so distracted by all that was going on I didn't realize I was in trouble until the police car pulled into a parking spot, backed up, pulled out behind me and turned on his lights.

"Mam, do you know why I pulled you over?"

Sheepishly, I reply, "Yes, officer."

I am in total support of the cell phone ban while driving. It makes me crazy when you are behind a car and their speed suddenly drops 20 miles an hour and they start swerving to pick up their call. So on a theoretical level, I get it. But to get nabbed was embarrassing. I apologized and promised to use my hands free device in the future. And the officer was very nice in giving me a verbal warning.

A week later, Liam and I were somewhere in the middle of Minnesota. We had arrived in the middle of the night after the crazy storm. He had done the driving for most of the trip up to this point. In the morning, I took over. About 20 miles into the drive that day, I saw a police car up ahead. I slowed down but quickly noticed the officer pointing at my car as if to get over to the other lane. Liam, who had driven through Minnesota the night before had noticed the signs warning drivers that when an officer has his lights flashing in the shoulder, drivers must get into the left lane. I, asleep, had missed these signs.

So, unsure of whether I was being pulled over or just told to get over to the other lane, I pulled over. As I sat on the shoulder of I-90 somewhere in MN, I couldn't help but stew that Liam had driven up to this point without incident and within 20 minutes of me getting behind the wheel, here we were sitting with police lights flashing behind us.

The state trooper approached our car.

"Mam, why did you pull over?"

"I saw you point at my car and wasn't sure why, so I pulled over."

I was immediately scolded that in Minnesota (and apparently some other states like South Dakota), drivers must move lanes. I explained that I didn't know about this law and apologized. The state trooper took my license and gave me a written warning.

So a warning to all those cross country treksters: if you are in DC, put that cell phone down and if you are somewhere in the mid-west and see a cop on the shoulder, get to that other lane fast!

ALOHA

Coconuts...Pineapples...Luaus...Snorkeling...Swimming...Palm trees...Sun...Sea...Waterfalls...Volcanoes...Sandy beaches...And a whole lot of tourists. Aloha and welcome to Hawaii! I have been here a week and while certainly built up and crowded since the last time I was here as a teenager, it is definitely worth it. Especially if you live in California and the flight to Maui is quicker than heading to the east coast. Or if you have a cousin who lives in a perfect little bungalow on the big island in which you've already decided you could live indefinitely (he may disagree however). It is certainly a family vacation destination though so be certain if you come you either take some kids or rent some while here (there is probably a discount if you rent them for a week with a set of snorkels and fins). You'd hate to feel left out.

But, alas, as I am learning on this journey, all good destinations must come to an end. Next stop--South Africa, Kenya, Tanzania. I am doubting there will be any snorkeling time there. Although there will be kids since I will be living at an orphanage outside of Nairobi. (Am I really ready for this? Isn't the bungalow in Hilo more my speed?) But, there is a big mountain called Kilimanjaro that has been calling for me to climb it for years. So I'm trading in my snorkel fins for my climbing boots. And trading in Aloha for Jambo! Wish me luck.

(Note- for all of my friends who claim they can't read the blog because they get confused on whether it is me or Jess writing (excuses, excuses, Kurt Crowl), a good rule of thumb is that Jess is posting from within the contiguous 48 states and I am posting from outside. I mean aside from the obvious fact that below each entry our name is listed.)

A Midwestern Storm

Yesterday we crossed the Mississippi and then drove north through Iowa along the river. We decided that we wanted to visit the Effigy Mounds, which sit along the Mississippi in Iowa. A National Monument, the site is home to many prehistoric Indian burial and effigy mounds. Although no one knows today why the effigy mounds were created, they are shaped "in effigy" of birds, bears, and other animals. The grounds were spectacular and after arriving, we spent some time wandering through the forest. Liam even managed to spot a bald eagle flying over the Mississippi.

We then crossed back over the Mississippi again, into Wisconsin and drove north. Our goal was to make it to Sioux Falls, SD by midnight. It was about 400 miles. We started heading north but the road was closed due to construction. We decided to forge ahead. As we entered Minnesota, night fell and all we could see was the blackness of the plains on both sides of the road. But then the sky started to flash. And the flashing increased in intensity. Soon the entire night sky was lit up in bright white flashes of a massive electrical storm. For about twenty minutes we drove closer and closer to the storm. And then it hit. The rain drops were so huge and coming at us so fast we mistook them for hail for a few seconds. The highway was empty save for a few other cars and our speed dropped below 40 miles an hour. Reaching Sioux Falls was going to be nearly impossible. We saw a sign for Worthington, Minnesota -- and a bevy of highway hotels stood there waiting for us. So Worthington it would be; at a Holiday Inn Express (in terms of highway hotels, much nicer than the Super 8).

So today, we enter South Dakota!

ROAD TRIP! The Ohio River Valley

Our plan was to drive about 300 miles a day. However, we knew getting out of the Ohio River Valley would take us awhile. Liam's grandfather and uncle live in Pittsburgh; his best friend and godson in Columbus; my aunt, her partner and their two little girls are in Cincinnati; a high school friend and her little boy and girl in Dover, Ohio. So for the past three days we've slowly made our way across Ohio.

We've visited 5 children under the age of 5, which involved trips to playgrounds in every corner of Ohio. We've tested out their mac and cheese lunches; their Cheerio snacks. We've learned how to buckle kids into their car seats and extract them without disturbing their tenuous sleep. We visited a neighbor who has a cat who birthed 6 little kittens which my cousin Alicia Jade could not get enough of; spending at least a half hour showing us her favorites (I think she had 4). Yesterday, I taught my 2-year old cousin that when putting her baby doll to sleep, she need not beat the doll into the ground; a gentle rub on the head is sufficient.

It's been such a blast to be able to spend time with so many friends and family who live across the Ohio River Valley. In addition to copious kid time, we've also been quite sporting. Liam spent Saturday night with his friend Navin in Columbus at a Crew soccer game. while I went down to Cincinnati and went to the Federer/Hewitt tennis match with my Aunt Barb (first row seats! I was on ESPN!).

We've also spent alot of time in the car and we've made pretty good progress since leaving Ohio I'm writing from a Super 8 in Rochelle, Illinois across from a corn field -- it's quite beautiful! (The corn field, not the Super 8). We've finished one book on tape - Into the Wild by John Krakauer, which has instilled a strong desire to revisit the Alaska wild. We've also been rocking to those great mixes I made.

Today we cross the Mississippi, saying goodbye to all of our friends and family in the East and hello to new adventures in the West.

IGNORANCE IS BLISS

After a few blissful days in Paris with Maureen and Brad (which strangely resembled my days in Bratislava without the stomach virus but including a day trip to Versailles, some crepes with nutella, and a gut wrenching game of Scrabble), Maureen and I decided it was time for a road trip. Maybe it was the excitement of Jess and Liam's upcoming trek across N. America or Maureen's new BMW, but the open road of France called for us. And we went. All the way to Belgium. (Which is really only 3 hours but hey, we stopped for gas, got snacks at the freeway rest stop, and got lost a few times despite our GPS, so it still counts!) Our destination was a little town 30 km west of Brussels called Lede. It is a sleepy village full of beautiful farm houses, horses, old churches and our dear friend from Kazakhstan - Eva from Sweden. She is an animal lover who came home to the EU Headquarters from her 5-year tour in Kaz with 3 dogs and 6 cats. Hence the need to live in a farmhouse in a farm community. We spent the day retelling crazy Kaz stories, playing with the animals, and planning renovations to her new home. Oh, and drinking wine. We even took a siteseeing trip to the local store (for more wine) and the local pub (to check out her neighbors who are all about 80 and have been planted in the pub since birth). All in all a perfect day in Belgium.

The next morning, I flew out of Charleroi Airport on Ryan Air (for 19.99 USD- gotta love low cost airlines) to London and started the 24-hour trek home to DC. I am back now for a day, doing laundry, repacking, stocking up on toiletries, and watching the news for the first time in almost 2 months. (I am amazed that 200 people were killed and 400 wounded in Iraq and it didn't even make the top headlines...already my blood pressure is rising...I know now why they say 'ignorance is bliss' since I haven't followed any news lately and been ever so happy.) My Europe/E. Europe adventure was everything I hoped for and more. I got to see so many good friends, step foot on new territory (I have now hit 79 countries!), and met so many cool people. And while the majority of people I met backpacking were significantly younger than I...it just never mattered. What a great way to see the world.

Next stop - Maui. Well, unless of course that little thing called a Hurricane (which I just learned about today on the news) tries to stop me. Not likely.

Prague and Small World Statistics

Disclaimer: Statistics in college was my least favorite class. If memory serves, I even had to take it twice. So in the below calculated answer, please allow a variation of plus or minus pi times avagadro's number to the one hundred.

Question: You are in Prague, Czech Republic, which has a population of 1.2 million. Your name is Maureen and you just flew in very last minute from Paris to spend a few days with your friend Kitty in Prague. You two have the entire day mapped out of what you are going to do, which includes seeing the Prague Castle and environs, Old Town, and the Jewish Quarter. Somewhere in the middle of this, it starts to pour rain. You have no umbrella so the two of you decide to duck into the first bar you see to have some beers and wait it out. The bar is an Irish one (with Kitty the probability of finding one of these is 99.99%.) While you are there, Kitty picks up a discarded newspaper of things to do in Prague. You find an exhibit and decide to go because it is indoors. As you are walking there (in the New Quarter which was not on your planned route), it rains again and you decide to go home to your hostel. Unless of course Tram 23 happens to come by your street. It does. You get on. You get off at the place where you are supposedly to buy tickets for the exhibit. You are lost in the maze of this office building/strip mall crowded with locals. And then you quite literally run into someone. What are the odds that it will be your really good Irish friend from Atlanta? Combine that with the odds that he has taken a year off of life to backpack the world and is in the exact same place as you, especially given that he just decided that moment as he was walking by to inquire about the same exhibit?

Answer: One gazillion to the 56th power divided by the radius of this small world we live in.

Footnote: For all of you keeping track, Kieran the Irishman (who is a 'former mechanical engineer' and now a 'professional vagrant') decided to take a career break in order to "see a little bit more of this rock." With Kieran in tow, we learned exactly why they call Prague a party city that never sleeps. We wished him luck the next day heading to Bratislava. He is quite literally going the opposite way around the world than I am. But, I hope the odds are better than one gazillion to the 56th power divided by the radius of this small world we live in that I will run into him again. Wouldn't that be crazy??? (For all you overachievers, you can do the math on those odds yourself as extra credit.)

HOW?

A few days back I took the overnight train from Bratislava to Krakow, Poland and took another train to the outskirts where I spent the day at Auschwitz and Birkenau concentration camps. I arrived in the early morning as the museums (as the camps are called now) opened up. Since I was alone walking around some of the areas before the crowds arrived, I felt like I was on a movie set. It seemed surreal that 1.5 million people (the equivalent of Philadelphia or Phoenix) were killed in approximately a 2-year period right where I was standing. My mind couldn't process it. I have been to the Killing Fields in Cambodia, mass grave sites in Bosnia...and different but equally as humbling, the beaches of Normandy and apartheid era black prisons in S. Africa. But, nothing prepared me for this. The whole time there and every day since, I have had so many questions...and they all start with one little word...how?

How can we as a humanity have let this happen? How did it even start (I have since obtained a copy of Rise and Fall of the Third Reich by William Shirer to try and understand this question)? How can we raise kids in a world where genocide is still going on? How can I read an account inside the "History should not repeat itself" building, saying that when the Jews were being deported from Hungary (1 in 3 killed at Auschwitz was Hungarian) regular citizens were ambilvalent because it did not affect them? And how can we as citizens of this small world still be ambilavent, say towards Darfur, because it doesn't affect us? How many years before I am standing at a genocide museum in Sudan and reading that same passage? How will I feel then knowing I stood by and did nothing? How can we all not become more involved? How can we continue to let this happen? Although this is not a political blog, how can I not encourage myself and all my friends and family who read this blog to go to www.savedarfur.org and at least become more educated?

How?

Book Review: Shutterbabe

About two years ago my friend Sarah gave me a book called Shutterbabe. “Read this, you’ll love it,” she urged. I put the book on my “to read” stack, which somewhat resembles the Leaning Tower of Pisa. But like most law students, reading for fun became a dream and my days were instead filled with legal texts.

But, now that I am enjoying these golden days between the bar and starting my job, I picked it up, dusted it off, and sat down to read it. And I devoured it. Shutterbabe is the memoir of Deborah Copaken Kogen, a photojournalist who as a 22 year old jumped into the fray of the Soviet withdraw of Afghanistan, riding around Afghanistan with a group of Shiite mujahideen (yes, freaking crazy!).

The book is amazingly honest and discusses her challenges as a woman in the world of photojournalism, her numerous love affairs, and several brutal attacks she survived (including when she was raped the night before her college graduation). I am always amazed by memoirs like this. A memoir is not good unless it is honest. And being honest requires putting in print all those little moments when you think, “dear god, I am so glad my parents don’t know about this.” So to reconcile those two competing factors, at some point the author must have to come to grips with the idea that not only will her parents know all of her dirty little secrets, but that the entire world will know. Every mistake that we would like to forget, to cover over, to view with rose colored glasses is laid out there for the entire world to learn, to talk about, to judge.

But that is why Shutterbabe is such an exceptional book. Kogen seems to own her past and in recognizing mistakes, isn’t ashamed of them. From the cocaine use to the one night stands, she tells the story of a young girl who threw herself into war zones in search of meaning and adventure. The story of her life takes the reader through her assignments in places like Afghanistan, Romania, Zimbabwe, and even places like heroine dens in Switzerland. It also takes the reader into the morass that is what we modern women call the “work/life balance.”

I highly recommend this book – great summer reading. You get all the tawdry stuff perfect for lazy days at the beach, but the stories are true and the lessons are real.

Road Trip Music

My mission today: make the perfect playlist for our ipod for the long drive across the states.

I have three lists going. The first is hip-hop and rap; a list for those late nights when the fifteenth diet dr. pepper isn't doing its job and the next exit isn't for another 100 miles. The second is a mix of Celtic rock, country (sorry Liam!), rock, and alternative stuff we've collected over the years. And then there is the biggest challenge: the playlist entitled "SLC Road Trip." So far I have the obvious: Willy Nelson's On the Road Again; John Denver's Wild Montana Skies and Rocky Mountain High; and Paul Simon's Graceland. But I need more recommendations! What are your favorite American road trip songs?

I feel like I'm back in fifth grade, except instead of using my manual cassette recorder on my kick-ass boom box, where I so adeptly mastered the pause-switch tapes-start recording again trilogy, I am now simply dragging songs from one file to another. Remember when the cassette was such new technology and our parents would reminisce about 8 tracks and records? So you know what this means; I've now reached the age when I reminisce about old technology!

Solas Travel Writing Award

Travelers' Tales is sponsoring awards for this year's best travel writing. The Solas awards can garner you not only cash (top prize is $1,000) but also publication. The deadline for this years contest is September 1. There is a $20 entry fee, which is somewhat of a bummer. But if you are a gambling man, $1000 is a pretty good return on a $20 investment! For more information, click here.

It's been so much fun hearing all about Karin's great adventures, I think she should enter the contest. (Maybe even put that Beanies over Baghdad story into writing? One of my all time favorite Karin Kitsman stories!)

from BRATISLAVA to BUDAPEST (and back)

One of the great things about visiting friends who live overseas (aside from spending time with them of course) is that you have a place to stay once you get there. And a kitchen. And a TV. And a washing machine. And free internet. And, well, all the neccesities of home that I always proclaim I can do without but deeply miss once living out of my backpack. I arrived four days ago to Bratislava (capital of Slovakia) to the welcoming arms of my dear friends from home who now reside here. And I didn't leave my pajamas for the first three days. I kept meaning to leave the house, but there are Cheerios here, and DVDs, and People magazines (why is Leo still with that model chick?), and super speedy internet. And, I am currently waiting on my friends to come home and cook dinner (please please please god of travel let it be Mac and Cheese, or tuna helper with cheese, or grilled cheese, or anything processed or frozen or proceesed and frozen with cheese). The best thing about my new home (aside from the maid who is currently doing my laundry) is the view from my new bedroom. My new house sits perched on a hill high above the old town. So with my Lonely Planet book in hand, it's almost as if I am touring Bratislava...from my new deck chair of course.

On Day 4, however, the guilt of being in one's pajamas for too long set in (but I had a stomach virus...I swear!) So, yesterday, I caught the 7am three-hour train to Budapest, Hungary for a full day of exploring a new city. Although not a fan of organized tours, given the vastness of Budapest (think Paris or London) and my time constraints, I went on a three-hour tour (a three-hour tour) on an open roofed bus that screams "Look at me...I'm a TOURIST!" After only an hour or so in Pest, before even getting to Buda (I learned that the city is actually two cities divided by the Danube river), I fell in love and immediately included Budapest on my "must return to list". The architecture, history, parks, museums, wide avenues, shops, and cafes all beg to be studied and explored. And there is a great Irish Bar near the train station. (My greatest self-proclaimed travel talent is being able to stumble upon an Irish Bar whenever I am thirsty...no matter the city.) Next time you need a vacation and are thinking London, Paris, or Rome...skip them and head to Budapest (your wallet will thank you too). With the plethora of budget airlines in Europe now (www.etn.nl/lcosteur.htm is a great resource) all you have to do is get a flight over the pond to any European gateway and you're almost there. My only regret is that my pajamas prohibited me from spending more time there. But the Mac and Cheese I had for dinner back in my new home in Bratislava was almost worth it.

Dispatch: Salt Lake City

In a whirlwind trip, Liam and I have made it out to Utah, seen about 50 apartments and houses, and rented one with a beautiful view of the city and a great commute to work. Much accomplished all in a few days! The picking were slim (the low point was a little house near Liberty Park were the tenants were evicted the day before: imagine crushed up cereal on the floor, bags of dirty clothes strewn across the basement and left over breakfast on the kitchen counter top and you wouldn't even get half way there to how bad it was!) But we ended up finding a simply beautiful apartment and we're so excited to move in!

So today, we celebrated with a hike in the Wasatch Mountains; we went to Mill Creek Canyon and hiked up to Grandeur Peak. The views were amazing and I kept thinking to myself, "we get to live here for a year!" I also kept thinking to myself, "is it possible that I am this out of shape?" The hike was brutal. And a painful reminder that 2 months of studying for the bar does little for your physical health. I was huffing and puffing my way up (I'd blame it on the altitude, but I know better...) And I have blisters the size of quarters on the back of my feet. Wake up call: must get in mountain shape!

I love Salt Lake City. I feel like it is this gem of a hidden city. There are amazing restaurants, great little quirky neighborhoods, and all within a few miles of the best skiing and hiking in the country. When I was out here for my interview I tried rock climbing for the first time; I think one of my goals this year is to be outdoors and take up as many new mountains sports as humanly possible.

Tonight we're off to catch a movie and then head back to DC first thing tomorrow morning to pack up our stuff, say good bye to everyone and then drive across country!

"THE CAREER BREAK BOOK"

It is written by Lonely Planet and I highly recommend it. I bought it several years back in England and I am not even sure if it is available on U.S. bookshelves. As a matter of fact, the book explains that Americans are not the intended target audience. The book is designed for Aussies, Kiwis, Brits, and Europeans who have mastered the art of Career Breaks and who have come to understand, well let's just face it folks, a 2-week vacation per year just aint enough. The book even goes so far to explain that Americans are too busy with work, too focused on careers, and too concerned with mortgages (see editorial note below) to master this art. I cherished this book ever since I bought it. After long days at work I would come home to it, dog-ear pages, highlight sections, and pray to the gods of travel that someday I would find the courage to use the wisdom within those pages to actually take a sabbatical, or an extended vacation, or a long walk across the globe, or a journey of self discovery (gag!), or simply a Career Break. (The book encourages you to find your own personal motto and then get out there and go.) The book also got me through some sleepless, anxiety-filled nights in Iraq when I thought nothing else could.

Since I've been gone on my "time off of real life" (as I have chosen to call it) I have met alot of people doing the same - but with a different motto of course. I met an Aussie travel agent who convinced her boss that 3 months "real world training" would help her understand the vacation packages she was selling. I met a Dane on his yearly "job" of traveling (the money he collects during his months in sales and marketing is in fact his hobby.) I met a Swede who is on a quest to "chase his life around the globe to see if he can catch up to it, man!" (I have decided this one motto alone is worth a separate entire blog entry at a later date.) I met a 50 year old Brit teacher who had spent the past year "finding herself and some peace" and was desperately looking for any sign to tell her to stay gone another year. (I pray the primary school teacher who lived in government housing near the London Bridge and who met me at the L'Estranger Bookstore in Luang Prabang in July will find this blog entry and consider that alone a sign. Stay gone!!!) My kiwi friend Peter chose his profession as an international teacher in order to live overseas and spend his summers "free to travel". And then there is my friend Lisa, a 20-something social worker from Hull, England, whom I met in Cape Town last year on month 1 of her 7 month "bloody good time seeing the world". It was Lisa, and my Career Break Book, that was the impetus for this "time off of real life". Her mantra to me was always, "Mate, if I can do this...ANYONE can do this." But the only American I have met so far was actually in DC before I left. He is a 60 year old artist, mountain climber, lawyer, nuclear scientist, diplomat. He completed 3 separate year-long "breaks before finding new careers" and I have to say not suprisingly, he is one of the most impressive and successful people I have ever met. He may have even written the book.

***Editorial Note - Today I received an email from a female family member (she, who recently had a big birthday bash in Reno, shall not be named). She did not like my last blog entry and thought I sounded ungrateful when complaining about my mortgage. Although according to my Career Break Book I am American and this is what I do, I still feel obliged to publish an apology to the reader. Perhaps the whole message in the last blog (being that I am quite perfectly and utterly happy to be right where I am in life) got lost in innuendo, translation, or my lame attempt at humor. So here I will declare to all who read this and in perfect Engligh "I AM THE LUCKIEST PERSON ALIVE!" Now, for all of the rest of you, get out there and buy that book. I promise, it has truly magical powers.