tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85273079139027571352024-03-13T12:45:36.738-07:00claudia's getting schooledthe public version of my travel journal to loosely record and share what I can along the way.Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.comBlogger89125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-91345456737120491562014-04-20T23:08:00.000-07:002014-04-20T23:08:02.286-07:00Distraction<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">“You
should write more, I’ve missed reading your writing.” That’s the voice of
encouragement and concern that only a mother can have. What she’s really saying
is, why haven’t you been making the time to write? What are you hiding?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">I
have two blogs that have been blatantly ignored and a journal that lay unopened
for months. I don’t write for other people. I never have. The fact that other
people read and glean some bit of joy or satisfaction out of what I’ve taken
the time to pen is a pleasant side effect. But I don’t write for other people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Writing
has become a variety of things for me over the years: a friend, counselor and
teacher. It has served as a sort of confessional, a dumping ground of thoughts
and emotions. It’s been a lens that gives new perspective to this odd thing I
consider my experience. It’s an active mediation. It’s a snapshot into a moment
in time that I can and do look back on with curiosity and wonder. But it’s also
a pleasure. I enjoy going through the process – the introspection – like
watching a movie for the second time, and writing something down about what the
heck you just saw and what it could possibly mean.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">So
why haven’t I taken the time to write? I can’t say anything truly significant.
I have no mind-blowing reason. I just haven’t. I took a hiatus from myself. I didn’t
want to go and explore those corners of my mind or of my heart. I decided for
the first time in my memory, that I wasn’t interested in doing anything hard. I
wanted to coast for a while. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">I
did just that. I coasted through my own life numb to any real sensation. I
coasted until I literally crashed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">But
before I get too carried away, let’s take some honest perspective here. My
life, even before I didn’t want to toe up to challenge, has been the farthest
thing from “hard”. Sure, I’ve had challenges, everybody does, but I have been
born into a blessed life. I have an amazingly supportive family. I was given an
education. I have genuine friends that pepper the globe. I’m healthy. I have
never truly experienced lack. I’ve travelled. I have enough to pay my bills and
then some extra for fun and frivolity. So what exactly was I taking a break
from? Why did I all of a sudden have this desire to become a passenger in my
own life?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">At
the time I would say, that I didn’t know or that it didn’t really matter. It’s
just what I chose to do…and I did it rather well for a while too, I might add. But
the truth is that I did know, and I just didn’t want to take responsibility. I
didn’t just stop writing; I stopped doing most things that give me perspective.
I stopped practicing yoga. I stopped meditating. I stopped praying and studying
my spiritual texts…and I filled that space with distraction. Why? Because
distraction can be fun. Distraction isn’t hard. Distraction doesn’t require
process or passion or honesty. Distraction is easy to come by and easy to
replace. So, I filled up my life with distraction – TV shows, the time-suck
that is Facebook, buying things, making dates, snowboarding, planning trips,
sleeping in, cooking, running, biking, working late and eating out. Now it’s
not that those things are inherently bad. They aren’t. I love all of those
things…well, most of those things anyway. But I wasn’t doing any of them with
real purpose. I was simply passing time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">I
was also trying to find people to fill the void that I was so actively
ignoring. The challenge was, that I’d managed to build up these spectacular
walls because I didn’t want to allow myself to get hurt again. In my own
melodrama I’d experienced a couple of back-to-back blows that left me
questioning my faith in humanity – and that honestly did hurt. Disappointment
always does. Regardless of whether it was partially made up in my own mind or
if that betrayal was actually experienced to the degree that I felt it, didn’t
really matter. All I knew was that I was hurting and the best way to avoid the
unpleasantness of it was to shut out the opportunity to get hurt again. This is
really hard to do when you want to meet people. This is exceptionally hard to
do when you want to find a potential mate. This may explain my failure at doing
those things. But of course I couldn’t recognize it without taking the time to
sit with myself…and I was, as I mentioned, very actively avoiding that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">So
here comes the drama. I’m 30. I had this list of things I thought I was going
to accomplish in my life. I like lists. I especially like to check things off
of my lists. I’ve even been guilty of writing down things that I’ve already
completed for the sole purpose of checking them off – but I digress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was this big shake-down that occurred
some time after college that, rather painfully, forced me to let go of some of
my long-held goals. It sucked. It was also made me realize that I had the
opportunity to reframe what could be life. That part didn’t suck. Then, I went
ahead and made new goals, and clung to these with the same ferocity of the
older, abandoned ones. Recently, about the time of my desire to bury myself in
distraction, came the realization that maybe these new goals aren’t quite right
either. With the glimmer of that realization I decided to run, to jam my
fingers in my ears, hum a pretty tune, close my eyes, and pretend that THIS IS
NOT HAPPENING AGAIN.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">It
turns out that strategy doesn’t work. It is easy to do. I understand now the
preference of toddlers for this type of behavior. Yes, I can admit, that I was
choosing to act like a toddler. And I repeat, I’m 30. I did not think that was
going to bother me. On a surface level it doesn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s just when I start doing the math and
realize that all these things that I thought I could check of my list of life
accomplishments or at least be on the path of checking them off by this age,
didn’t or aren’t happening that it throws me into a bit of tailspin. On a
totally rational, logical and practical level I realize that I’m still young. There’s
still plenty of time to regroup and re-evaluate. Unfortunately, I don’t always
operate from that place, especially when I’m pulling out tricks that are only
acceptable to toddlers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">All
of these factors lead to why I haven’t been writing. I wasn’t ready to admit to
myself that I’m confused. Admit to myself that I may have been wrong. To
acknowledge that I’m a little lost…scared. If I wasn’t ready to admit and
acknowledge it to myself, I was absolutely not ready to write it down. Writing
things down makes them real. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">But
then I crashed. And this isn’t figurative; I actually crashed and fell during
one source of distraction - while snowboarding. It was the second time this
season, and it was serious enough snap me out of my fuzzy, sleepwalking guise
of an engaging experience. Pain can do that. This was nauseating pain. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">So
now I’m at home wrapped up in a splint. I can’t snowboard, can’t ride a bike,
can’t run, can’t even walk – hell, getting dressed is the hardest damn thing
I’ve ever had to do. The most basic tasks are exhausting and painful. I’m stuck
at home…alone…with my physical hurt, emotional turmoil, and gasp, my thoughts. All
that fun and frivolous distraction, I can’t do any of it anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to run away, and the universe said,
“uh, yeah, about that…NO. Seriously, deal with it.” I refused for months…and
now, I literally can’t. I have no way to run. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Here
we are in the aftermath of my childish shenanigans. Despite my best efforts to sit
around and feel sorry for myself, I’m not completely devoid of reason, I know
that isn’t the answer. I find myself slowly, albeit resentfully, turning back
to my long-lost friends: my books, my breath and the familiar space inside my
own thoughts looking for the calm in the midst of this storm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">I’m
slowly beginning to process months of erratic behavior that I so actively
ignored. I am also re-gaining the courage to sit again with myself and
re-discover the joy in being my own company…without distraction. Somehow the
desire to collect the thoughts, organize and process them stopped feeling so
scary. It stopped being so overwhelming…and instead started to feel again like
that familiar lighthouse guiding me back home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Narrow"; font-size: 10.0pt;">…and
I think I’m ready to write it down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-21259510479643969392013-09-23T19:33:00.001-07:002013-09-23T19:33:43.949-07:00Still getting schooled
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When you’re 18 all you want is to get the hell out of where
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live somewhere sunny all the time. I wanted to go to a city where NO ONE knew
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I graduated from that program I went to school for. I
started down the path of my career and worked in arguable the best firms in the
state. I fell in love. I bought a condo. I travelled to Europe and Asia and
Latin America multiple times. I started hiking. I started camping. I fell in
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passion. I started to teach. I made friends. I lost friends to time, to
distance, to the peculiarities of life. The economy tanked. I lost my house. I
quit my job. I packed my bags and went on an epic journey of self-discovery. I
came back to the desert with the intention of getting married, building a
family, starting the next big chapter in life. Life had another plan and I was
pushed out of love. It hurt like hell. I wondered why I was still here. It felt
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than the one I left behind. I’ve done more visiting in the last few months than
I had in years, and to my surprise I liked it. The culture has morphed, the
population has grown and the skyline even has evolved. But it still smells like
the Sound, and its cloaked in green, and I navigate the streets as if nothing
ever changed. I have a handful of
friends excited about my return and family tucked in the wings if I need help.
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<div class="MsoNormal">
As a fiery 29 year old, I’m wanting to go to a city were a
few people know me. Where I get to wipe the slate cleanish and start my “adult
life” maybe for real this time, with only good ties to my past. I’m optimistic
about starting a new job that leaves me fulfilled. I’m excited deepening my
love of the hobbies and passions I found in the desert and re-learning them in
this place. I’m hopeful about finding new love, real love, and this time
building a home and building a family with a partner who loves without
reservations. I’m happy to invest in friends that have stayed connected with me
during my long boomerang of a journey. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And just like that a chapter closes. And just like that the next one opens. I honestly can’t wait to see what’s in store. Luckily I won’t have to wait long…that much I’ve learned. But whatever it is, I’m as ready as ever.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinXDNeBtcjg-Shbj3zvz8vKQDjryeTuwg74njvvHu-vyuzy6dQ4pdlnlx9MdwfhaXi4W78TtPxATqCpEIp8O1S4jR_hfEYilETJxc_YwdMjnVwy37xN0rZtDqnLwqZEXihU4rx6l8Mxjo/s1600/HCB_2035+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinXDNeBtcjg-Shbj3zvz8vKQDjryeTuwg74njvvHu-vyuzy6dQ4pdlnlx9MdwfhaXi4W78TtPxATqCpEIp8O1S4jR_hfEYilETJxc_YwdMjnVwy37xN0rZtDqnLwqZEXihU4rx6l8Mxjo/s320/HCB_2035+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So long Phoenix. It's been real.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<!--EndFragment-->Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-33341661462924828322012-09-10T08:14:00.002-07:002012-09-10T08:14:38.679-07:00A Graduation Speech<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhulKihKjqRt1gooIjv5K8TILfo4QHweRHSuDXHCb4vLsgCLg7CPXDLmBdAvl3q5vNFHKFzk-VXhl9syRH6JmJeDrj4luw1ODMuq85vVNASxlS-We2olMWapPaV7zn5SlW9A0o-bB8NCPw/s1600/photo+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhulKihKjqRt1gooIjv5K8TILfo4QHweRHSuDXHCb4vLsgCLg7CPXDLmBdAvl3q5vNFHKFzk-VXhl9syRH6JmJeDrj4luw1ODMuq85vVNASxlS-We2olMWapPaV7zn5SlW9A0o-bB8NCPw/s400/photo+(3).JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My last perfect sunset over Farellones...bittersweet, this was home for 3 months.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 115%;">Hey, everyone…thanks for coming along on this crazy
ride. It’s difficult for me to fathom that it’s been over a year since I started
this journey. Miraculously, the world has done one solid revolution, it’s still
spinning and I’m still standing, I guess, that’s how it goes. But I suppose that is
like every earth-shattering, life changing event; it only seems that way to the
person that got shook, who felt the tremors, who had to pick themselves back up
off the ground. To the rest of the world it’s just a Monday, and you, you feel
like you just opened your eyes for the first time in your existence. I feel
like my eyes have been stapled open, every day a fresh shake, every day a new start;
every day has been a Saturday. However, that kind of ride doesn’t last forever.
It can’t, right?</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So now, I’m rounding that final curve and my next stop
isn’t somewhere exotic doing something strange, it’s even bigger than that: I’m
going home. I’m going to my real home where family, friends that have managed
not to move away, and stuff that I packed up and left behind await me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">But I think this is going to be the biggest challenge
yet. Life on the road, life on the move, life without an agenda has become my
norm. Part of my fears are how well can I slide back into convention. Or more
importantly, do I really want to? Absolutely I’ve had my moments of longing for
all the things that have been left behind. I’ve missed the face to face
conversations with people that I love. I’ve missed the warmth of a hug. I’ve
missed the real-time response that a smile from a familiar face can give me.
I’ve missed having my own space, my own kitchen, a shower with consistent water
temperature and access to clean laundry. I’ve missed the food, knowing street
names and at times I’ve even missed my car. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Soon I’ll have all those things again, and my fear is
the opposite of what it was a year ago. It’s not about facing the unknown, but
about living a life that is safe, predictable, conventional…everything that
pushed me onto a plane in the first place. I have this inkling that I’ll miss
all that has made this year so spectacular; the unpredictability, every day
making new friends, every day not knowing what unforgettable thing is in store
for me. Can I hold on to this spirit of adventure when I “know” so much of what
already surrounds me?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I suppose you could say that I’m staring my graduation
in the face. And perhaps, like every grad wondering if all my recently acquired
skills will guide me in this new world. When embarking on this adventure a year
seemed like a long time. In practice it went so much faster than I ever
expected. Of course it did. If there was any lesson that I kept re-learning it
was that time is perhaps the most subjective thing in our human experience. But
it’s still shocking. So now I have to ask myself: did I learn all the things I set out to learn?
Was this everything I thought it would be? Did life school adequately prepare
me for the road ahead? Do I need to get myself a PhD?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I have learned a lot. I feel like I did grow a bit and
found out who this Claudia girl really was. It turns out, she’s a bit different
than the girl she thought she was. I can have fun, let go and just let things
happen. Unexpectedly, I’m a bit more durable than your average hiking boot, can
repair from bumps and bruises and have a pretty high tolerance for
cold. I never knew that I liked people as much as I do or that it was so easy
to make friends. I never thought I would see myself dance, comfortably speak
another language, or think hitching was the preferred mode of transport. Under
all of it though, there is this girl I recognize, below the dirty clothes, the
dirty nails, the disheveled hair, I found that girl that I used to be, the one
I thought I lost. Not the one who got buried in “career” and “house” and “responsibility”
and forgot that there is so much more to life than just going through the
motions. I found the one who yelled at me, “You get to do this amazing thing,
you get to pick your purpose, you get to direct your path, you get to LIVE your
life!” So those tremors that no-one else was feeling, yeah, they knocked me
around a bit and reminded me to be that girl that wakes up every morning
grateful. You know why? Because my life doesn’t have to be a perpetual Monday, it’s
a blessing, a surprise, a chance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ouofvudlG1vlVm6m-YmZbdHg4thMQ1bNq8SyeaZc7eYMXbN9diFElqN67rZs-fkKUJfQADCrQv7x2Lb85MlHtIsQNNV8xcngwYQYv_WeRNP7K1M-TTcuc-32JmhsRsGUgT3fwXOhmQs/s1600/IMG_6001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ouofvudlG1vlVm6m-YmZbdHg4thMQ1bNq8SyeaZc7eYMXbN9diFElqN67rZs-fkKUJfQADCrQv7x2Lb85MlHtIsQNNV8xcngwYQYv_WeRNP7K1M-TTcuc-32JmhsRsGUgT3fwXOhmQs/s320/IMG_6001.JPG" width="212" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So here we are. Looking forward, looking back, taking
a deep breath and deciding…which way to go. Do I follow convention and a return
to my previous career? Do I follow my heart and let things unfold as they may.
Do I maybe…get a PhD? </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">That, after all, might not be such a bad idea. It’s
definitely something to consider. There is so much more to learn, so much more
to see…so, so much more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-78812972378105110762012-09-09T15:55:00.001-07:002012-09-09T15:55:37.463-07:00chile with allie and blake<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966383988/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="but was replaced at the clubhouse. yes, that is a dog in the bar" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8307/7966383988_4031ba965d_s.jpg" alt="but was replaced at the clubhouse. yes, that is a dog in the bar" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966381106/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="peachy escorted us to blue tambo" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8182/7966381106_af1936754a_s.jpg" alt="peachy escorted us to blue tambo" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966378732/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="beautiful sky over el colorado" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8031/7966378732_3b3f57db23_s.jpg" alt="beautiful sky over el colorado" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966377514/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="blake at la parva" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8440/7966377514_c623de7019_s.jpg" alt="blake at la parva" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966375560/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="lunch break" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8436/7966375560_a6b38e4d70_s.jpg" alt="lunch break" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966373590/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="andes" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8455/7966373590_35cdf0fbea_s.jpg" alt="andes" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966372136/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="wahooo, the two of us at la parva" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8439/7966372136_bfeffd5723_s.jpg" alt="wahooo, the two of us at la parva" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966370290/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="la parva" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8305/7966370290_a2dae7d5eb_s.jpg" alt="la parva" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966368156/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="yup, allie is waiting for us again" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8457/7966368156_28f6160493_s.jpg" alt="yup, allie is waiting for us again" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966365656/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="a couple of curves on this mountain road" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8177/7966365656_f1fb6a474a_s.jpg" alt="a couple of curves on this mountain road" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966364694/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="allie at valle nevado" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8319/7966364694_d5719bbe9a_s.jpg" alt="allie at valle nevado" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966362886/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="this is what happens when a skiier goes with a bunch of boarders" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8307/7966362886_192453432e_s.jpg" alt="this is what happens when a skiier goes with a bunch of boarders" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966361374/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="jackson con su mate" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8169/7966361374_c9e2ca3e17_s.jpg" alt="jackson con su mate" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966359200/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="homemade pizza at the hostel" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8295/7966359200_c0307fbf93_s.jpg" alt="homemade pizza at the hostel" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966357078/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="typical giant chilean sandwhich" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8032/7966357078_2c2452a7e9_s.jpg" alt="typical giant chilean sandwhich" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966355172/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="El Colorado with snow" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8307/7966355172_b1afe59e99_s.jpg" alt="El Colorado with snow" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966352932/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="riding the chair, El Colorado" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8435/7966352932_c0e818cf16_s.jpg" alt="riding the chair, El Colorado" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966350964/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="local dogs" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8302/7966350964_f3c287f5c2_s.jpg" alt="local dogs" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966349272/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="allie looking sexy in that onsie" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8449/7966349272_d0719fb2e3_s.jpg" alt="allie looking sexy in that onsie" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966346866/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="end of day 1" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8181/7966346866_81f4624324_s.jpg" alt="end of day 1" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966344684/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="blake riding one of the only chairs in El Colorado" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8318/7966344684_570fb675dd_s.jpg" alt="blake riding one of the only chairs in El Colorado" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966342694/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="the local brew in bellavista" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8182/7966342694_6e3501fde0_s.jpg" alt="the local brew in bellavista" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966340376/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="that's 16 years of frienship" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8445/7966340376_1e82c863c1_s.jpg" alt="that's 16 years of frienship" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7966337700/in/set-72157631489078888/" title="mmmm, dinner" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8032/7966337700_a7f2f54af4_s.jpg" alt="mmmm, dinner" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157631489078888/">chile with allie and blake</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>last of the pcitures from chile. I had the distinct pleasure of having 2 great friends come on down before I had to head home. </p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-60555211446408409362012-09-06T08:32:00.001-07:002012-09-06T08:32:33.328-07:00Riding Valle Nevado<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907288154/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="prepped and ready...looking goooood." style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8178/7907288154_b1c4657ac6_s.jpg" alt="prepped and ready...looking goooood." style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907278638/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="strapping in" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8456/7907278638_a843e59210_s.jpg" alt="strapping in" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907268498/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="colorado from valle" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8035/7907268498_a3df869db6_s.jpg" alt="colorado from valle" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907260920/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="awwww...." style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8318/7907260920_a153f5e114_s.jpg" alt="awwww...." style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907251854/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="riding the chair" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8295/7907251854_c4ca8aa787_s.jpg" alt="riding the chair" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907244166/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="thin snow cover" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8309/7907244166_2301e7d6c4_s.jpg" alt="thin snow cover" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907230322/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="Lunch break with my boys" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8175/7907230322_09aeae03b0_s.jpg" alt="Lunch break with my boys" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907222852/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="riding the chair" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8454/7907222852_5cea37c4b5_s.jpg" alt="riding the chair" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907214226/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="pump it" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8450/7907214226_f891d993c6_s.jpg" alt="pump it" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907203770/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="onsies be sexy" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8040/7907203770_e5facd578d_s.jpg" alt="onsies be sexy" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907194484/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="B.A." style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8451/7907194484_9d3f2f690b_s.jpg" alt="B.A." style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907185130/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="read that sign" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8322/7907185130_63c5b38e02_s.jpg" alt="read that sign" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907173756/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="gabriel showing the snowboard how it's done" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8303/7907173756_e9495377a3_s.jpg" alt="gabriel showing the snowboard how it's done" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907164040/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="waiting for our ride" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8178/7907164040_24d1c39608_s.jpg" alt="waiting for our ride" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907152058/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="riding crew: Gabriel, Jesus, Kristin, Master, me" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8444/7907152058_581948b6d3_s.jpg" alt="riding crew: Gabriel, Jesus, Kristin, Master, me" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907143416/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="master is tuckered out" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8039/7907143416_76013fc4c0_s.jpg" alt="master is tuckered out" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907136212/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="Valle Nevado" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8320/7907136212_3da250558e_s.jpg" alt="Valle Nevado" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7907128344/in/set-72157631352743760/" title="Valle Nevado" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8317/7907128344_8a17fd7bca_s.jpg" alt="Valle Nevado" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157631352743760/">Riding Valle Nevado</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>pretty much what it sounds. 1 day in Valle. </p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-64082076915706044692012-09-06T08:29:00.001-07:002012-09-06T08:29:28.147-07:00Riding Colorado<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908157420/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="awww, the top of colorado" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8435/7908157420_0eec6163e4_s.jpg" alt="awww, the top of colorado" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908257204/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="looking for a ride" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8300/7908257204_2326ca2a71_s.jpg" alt="looking for a ride" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908231814/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="i'd pick me up" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8462/7908231814_0923b87b0d_s.jpg" alt="i'd pick me up" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908263926/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="santiago in the smog" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8175/7908263926_c78477cbfe_s.jpg" alt="santiago in the smog" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908306370/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="crazy sky" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8460/7908306370_46d63d29ed_s.jpg" alt="crazy sky" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908312758/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="pretty much the only chair" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8296/7908312758_d3a1ed824f_s.jpg" alt="pretty much the only chair" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908325596/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="graphic design" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8450/7908325596_4d2fe0ba60_s.jpg" alt="graphic design" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908271022/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="my nemesis" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8443/7908271022_0b7a8dde9e_s.jpg" alt="my nemesis" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908366362/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="NOT how you ride the t..." style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8437/7908366362_0d76020d9e_s.jpg" alt="NOT how you ride the t..." style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908356460/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="riding the t" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8038/7908356460_32422043f8_s.jpg" alt="riding the t" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908220280/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="riding the t-bar" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8033/7908220280_541996b8ac_s.jpg" alt="riding the t-bar" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908300392/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="what you have to do when you fall off the t-bar" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8317/7908300392_28659885e6_s.jpg" alt="what you have to do when you fall off the t-bar" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908333692/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="ready, set, go!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8042/7908333692_d642573da8_s.jpg" alt="ready, set, go!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908402460/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="riding" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8319/7908402460_9bf87b0078_s.jpg" alt="riding" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908390200/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="riding" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8307/7908390200_d89393287b_s.jpg" alt="riding" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908398278/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="working on her jumps" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8322/7908398278_aac524212c_s.jpg" alt="working on her jumps" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908394292/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="no...it's not snowing" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8173/7908394292_30d6b05d70_s.jpg" alt="no...it's not snowing" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908387376/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="riding" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8169/7908387376_926b64558c_s.jpg" alt="riding" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908384634/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="riding" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8436/7908384634_ce887c80dd_s.jpg" alt="riding" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908381340/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="look at that spray!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8300/7908381340_2bb78d9de2_s.jpg" alt="look at that spray!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908378692/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="oh no!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8305/7908378692_b307556c48_s.jpg" alt="oh no!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908373888/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="riding!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8180/7908373888_c56cc65e52_s.jpg" alt="riding!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908370254/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="waiting for the group" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8307/7908370254_25b70df213_s.jpg" alt="waiting for the group" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7908177200/in/set-72157631355465390/" title="down cono este" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8315/7908177200_f919aa5673_s.jpg" alt="down cono este" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157631355465390/">Riding Colorado</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>Kristin and I rocking the mountian. Even with a little snow we could still manange to look kind of B.A.</p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-38796933843688709762012-09-04T10:44:00.001-07:002012-09-04T10:44:46.686-07:00Mountain Life<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906843868/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="onsie success!!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8448/7906843868_78880317b1_s.jpg" alt="onsie success!!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906915104/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="Landing in Santiago, getting ready for my season" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8170/7906915104_51a2b9fdef_s.jpg" alt="Landing in Santiago, getting ready for my season" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906914524/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="View from the bedroom window" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8441/7906914524_9d2771dcdc_s.jpg" alt="View from the bedroom window" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906912148/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="My first view over the porch" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8182/7906912148_599d695545_s.jpg" alt="My first view over the porch" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906910974/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="Farellones with snow" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8435/7906910974_669a8c6e21_s.jpg" alt="Farellones with snow" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906808582/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="restaurant over farellones ski center" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8181/7906808582_1bce65ed5d_s.jpg" alt="restaurant over farellones ski center" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906907676/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="I'm fully equipped to ride colorado" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8300/7906907676_0bc2f43c1e_s.jpg" alt="I'm fully equipped to ride colorado" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906907120/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="castor and mate" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8322/7906907120_50fd5547f3_s.jpg" alt="castor and mate" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906900140/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="claudiaipodchile 003" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8320/7906900140_da5ab6706f_s.jpg" alt="claudiaipodchile 003" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906901686/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="Riding day 1 in colorado" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8177/7906901686_76983cb512_s.jpg" alt="Riding day 1 in colorado" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906900560/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="my first chair ride" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8037/7906900560_3273532898_s.jpg" alt="my first chair ride" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906905432/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="View down to Santiago from Farellones" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8447/7906905432_e8b808cb9d_s.jpg" alt="View down to Santiago from Farellones" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906902644/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="My first Farelones snow" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8177/7906902644_051cd0457b_s.jpg" alt="My first Farelones snow" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906903246/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="snow fall and fire" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8318/7906903246_bb4b66616d_s.jpg" alt="snow fall and fire" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906904034/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="family dinner" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8172/7906904034_aa173963f4_s.jpg" alt="family dinner" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906904818/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="Sunet over the andes" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8314/7906904818_e1471c2f13_s.jpg" alt="Sunet over the andes" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906906358/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="horses just chillin'" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8453/7906906358_3551394e4a_s.jpg" alt="horses just chillin'" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906840048/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="preppin this wood to get chopped" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8446/7906840048_58f772d0a3_s.jpg" alt="preppin this wood to get chopped" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906824970/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="Kristin earning her keep" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8300/7906824970_eaaa9f62bb_s.jpg" alt="Kristin earning her keep" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906682454/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="hostel kitchen" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8032/7906682454_3e2315f9f7_s.jpg" alt="hostel kitchen" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906693174/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="choppin' wood" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8296/7906693174_a2c9380700_s.jpg" alt="choppin' wood" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906782188/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="winter/spring in farellones" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8438/7906782188_f200b9060b_s.jpg" alt="winter/spring in farellones" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906800474/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="that is a triple bunk" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8306/7906800474_7cf4965e4f_s.jpg" alt="that is a triple bunk" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906673662/in/set-72157631351779596/" title="jackson has 2 butts" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8449/7906673662_bbbee4d703_s.jpg" alt="jackson has 2 butts" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157631351779596/">Mountain Life</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>Snapshpts from my short-lived life as a ski bum. This is how we roll in Farellones. </p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-70399090020114432872012-09-01T07:51:00.001-07:002012-09-01T07:51:22.031-07:00Santiago<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7859131496/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="The mountians above the smog" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8287/7859131496_1eb3a6363c_s.jpg" alt="The mountians above the smog" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858298024/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="Santiago is pretty sweet" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7266/7858298024_57f82cc3e3_s.jpg" alt="Santiago is pretty sweet" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858308800/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="colors of Santiago" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7260/7858308800_3e5e2c453f_s.jpg" alt="colors of Santiago" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858288854/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="Santiago skyscrapers" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8446/7858288854_963e541fff_s.jpg" alt="Santiago skyscrapers" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858249652/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="Santiago skyscrapers" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8428/7858249652_55582ded88_s.jpg" alt="Santiago skyscrapers" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858324208/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="The city below" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8444/7858324208_7de92b94ba_s.jpg" alt="The city below" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858400012/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="Mote con huesillos!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8308/7858400012_9a4a74dd0a_s.jpg" alt="Mote con huesillos!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7859252052/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="Santiago" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8307/7859252052_2538445774_s.jpg" alt="Santiago" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906533758/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="pedestrian street" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8440/7906533758_f60f67849c_s.jpg" alt="pedestrian street" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7859102576/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="Santiago skyscrapers" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7112/7859102576_8a7ecab802_s.jpg" alt="Santiago skyscrapers" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7859119014/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="old santiago" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8438/7859119014_f92a246e04_s.jpg" alt="old santiago" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858447108/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="silly tree" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8302/7858447108_1c50495fc1_s.jpg" alt="silly tree" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858384680/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="onsie shopping" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8439/7858384680_1a5f49d5ca_s.jpg" alt="onsie shopping" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7859262158/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="onsie shopping" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8431/7859262158_00bf294517_s.jpg" alt="onsie shopping" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7906533870/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="the happy father" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8314/7906533870_4a6de4c9ba_s.jpg" alt="the happy father" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858484730/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="Hostel Rodrigo and the new pup" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8282/7858484730_a1c0675e78_s.jpg" alt="Hostel Rodrigo and the new pup" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858469618/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="Holding ISO" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8294/7858469618_4ba93855db_s.jpg" alt="Holding ISO" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858512850/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="Iso!!" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8448/7858512850_460d36b8cb_s.jpg" alt="Iso!!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858622918/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="I can't go down the stairs!!!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8423/7858622918_34bed93889_s.jpg" alt="I can't go down the stairs!!!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858605944/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="Hostel Rodrigo" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8292/7858605944_e2a62a32a1_s.jpg" alt="Hostel Rodrigo" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7859231026/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="How we chill" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8306/7859231026_4dfdf12fe9_s.jpg" alt="How we chill" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858619288/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="bed in hostel rodrigo" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7111/7858619288_0560482d82_s.jpg" alt="bed in hostel rodrigo" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858457716/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="sushi after hiking? don't mind if I do" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7252/7858457716_59b7429830_s.jpg" alt="sushi after hiking? don't mind if I do" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7858412892/in/set-72157631350929906/" title="I found a muffin tin!" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8305/7858412892_5e0c980b1f_s.jpg" alt="I found a muffin tin!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157631350929906/">Santiago</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>More highlights from my time with Kristin. What we'd do when we weren't in Farellones. </p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-77646163352981953412012-09-01T07:50:00.001-07:002012-09-01T07:50:27.876-07:00Santiago Hiking<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768639072/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="park entrace" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8441/7768639072_01d9e54d1b_s.jpg" alt="park entrace" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768649896/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="santiago in the distance" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8425/7768649896_fbfdd908e1_s.jpg" alt="santiago in the distance" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768678110/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Aguas de San Ramon" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8421/7768678110_8d12022e80_s.jpg" alt="Aguas de San Ramon" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768717380/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Aguas de San Ramon" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8432/7768717380_a3780119bf_s.jpg" alt="Aguas de San Ramon" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768729916/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="on the road to hike" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8446/7768729916_3161b9b19e_s.jpg" alt="on the road to hike" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768738872/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Andes Valley" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8427/7768738872_94aec738b2_s.jpg" alt="Andes Valley" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768766678/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="the poor pup is exhausted. His dad trains him too hard!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7128/7768766678_7a2af61c59_s.jpg" alt="the poor pup is exhausted. His dad trains him too hard!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768782560/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Andes valley" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7129/7768782560_ac31205c49_s.jpg" alt="Andes valley" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768812540/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="puppy love" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7116/7768812540_4b9ef8a8ab_s.jpg" alt="puppy love" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768841396/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="sneaking the puppy in" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8448/7768841396_aa5645af0e_s.jpg" alt="sneaking the puppy in" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768869542/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Chile palms and cactus" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8446/7768869542_158d22e61c_s.jpg" alt="Chile palms and cactus" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768921334/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="andes valley" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8294/7768921334_d53ecfe9b2_s.jpg" alt="andes valley" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768939760/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Iso getting a ride back down" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7280/7768939760_4795a56a8b_s.jpg" alt="Iso getting a ride back down" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768981188/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Big beautiful palms" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8307/7768981188_2e133b72f6_s.jpg" alt="Big beautiful palms" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768995408/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Iso getting trained" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8429/7768995408_5e5022f534_s.jpg" alt="Iso getting trained" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7769008260/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Chile cactus" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8302/7769008260_3e3e97b8b7_s.jpg" alt="Chile cactus" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7769049496/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="recovering the water bottle" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8444/7769049496_a4b15cf3bb_s.jpg" alt="recovering the water bottle" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7769069976/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="a proud father's photoshoot" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8428/7769069976_64e05f8ec6_s.jpg" alt="a proud father's photoshoot" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7769085388/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Kristin and Iso" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8421/7769085388_e4cb4d1835_s.jpg" alt="Kristin and Iso" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7769141088/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="she is soooo strong" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8439/7769141088_57dcd86b8e_s.jpg" alt="she is soooo strong" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7769183318/in/set-72157631039083746/" title="Big beautiful palms" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8168/7769183318_d6306d7bf0_s.jpg" alt="Big beautiful palms" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157631039083746/">Santiago Hiking</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>When Kristin was down and the snow was sparce, we would head down to Santiago and do a little exploring in the city and hiking. Here are some of the shots from Andes hiking. </p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-25086403473798135412012-08-29T17:30:00.000-07:002012-08-29T17:30:35.897-07:00Do I look like the nana? wash your own damn dishes!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’ve been living in the mountains for almost 3 months.
I live in a town with 1 main road and no grocery store where I hitchhike almost
daily to get to the ski resort. I see the sunrise and the sunset over the Andes
every day. I’ve become familiar with heat generated from a real wood fireplace.
Real wood that I chop and light myself.
I see clear bright stars at night and during the day I see the blanket of
pollution that covers the city waaaaay down that winding mountain road. But I
live up here and get to breathe in crisp mountain air. I’ve prayed for snow to no avail. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It’s winter here, but in practice it was more like an endless
spring. It’s bittersweet to have endless spring in a mountain town. It wasn’t
what I thought I was going to find. By now you’d think I would have learned not
to have expectation. But like everything it was better…and worse, and no, I
wouldn’t have changed it. Why? Because this is exactly what I needed to see,
this is exactly what I needed to learn, and this is one more chance to practice
just being grateful for exactly what I’ve been given. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’ve managed not to write about it because for a good
portion of that time, one full month, I had a friend here visiting me…and when
I have company I forget to write. When she left I took that time to catch up on
the stories from before and loading and sorting pictures. Soon after Kristin
left, I was blessed to be visited by two more long time friends. But now I have
that time and looking back I’ve realized just how much has really happened. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It hasn’t all
been puppies and rainbows. That would have been spectacular, but not the stuff
of stories. After Kristin left, we did
eventually get a few good dumps of that light, fluffy powdery stuff people have
wet-dreams about. I did manage to make and spend time with wonderful people and
friends. I did cook more delicious meals and have a mostly predictable success
rate with baked goods. I did hike off piste to slide down virgin faces and
leave my own beautiful fresh s-shaped tracks. But the truth is that I didn’t
just come here to play, I came here to work. Well, more or less, to work. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I came down here because I
wanted to have a ski season in the Andes. I had to make a choice, spend more
time in Colombia and work my way up through Central America skirting along the
coast, OR come back to Chile and be a ski bum. Obviously I couldn’t just live
in a ski town for the whole season without some sort of compensation. It’s a
lot more expensive than the coast, this isn’t a poor-mans hobby. So I sent out
some feelers and if I found work I would come back. So it wasn’t that I
“wanted” to work, but saw it as a necessary evil, a means to the end. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Deep down I was hoping to come
back. After Justin’s visit and my time on the Galapagos, I came to the
realization that beaches kind of make me sad when I’m alone. They are full of
happy lovey-dovey couples and families with cute small children…and to be there
without the person you love, to be completely frank, kind of sucks. I can do
alone on a mountain. For some reason, I don’t mind that at all. Granted even
that is better with friends or loved ones, but at least if I can’t have that,
it doesn’t make me want to slip into a mild depression. Plus, lucky for me, my
friends like the snow, and I didn’t, don’t, and won’t have to spend that much
time alone anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So I got this gig working at a
hostel in a ski town. I thought I knew what I was signing up for. But wouldn’t
you know it, I didn’t have a clue. There goes Claudia, racing off into the
great unknown with that stupid smile on her face expecting only good, expecting
puppies and rainbows. One would think that after that debacle in the Galapagos
I would be a bit more cautious, a bit more apprehensive, a bit more realistic.
But no, absolutely not. Why would I do that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So what did I agree to? On the
surface it sounds like a pretty decent deal. I get to live in a ski town, have
food and accommodation provided and get paid a tiny little bit for the days
that I have to work. I work 2 full days from breakfast until midnight and then
get 2 full days off to do whatever I want. Obviously I was planning on spending
those days snowboarding, granted that was tough with the lack of snow at the
beginning of the season. There are two of us that work here, Jackson and I. We
complement each other and to be honest make a pretty rock-star team. He is
super sociable and great with the guests and knows pretty much everything there
is to know about the mountains here. I am organized and make sure that the
things that need to get taken care of, get taken care of. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What constitutes a work day is
where things get a bit interesting. I was told on my Skype interview with Max
(the guys that owns the hostel) that on working days you would have to set up
breakfast (which is self-service), be hospitable with the guests, answer
phones, square up the guest bills, chop wood, make fires and shovel snow off
the walk, make a few beds and make sure the place is tidy. No real heavy
cleaning, they will call the maid in for that. So pretty much, just hang out,
be available and friendly and make sure things don’t get out of hand or that
anyone leaves without paying. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What my day actually looks like
is being a mom to a bunch of full-grown, spoiled, poorly behaved, dirty and
lazy men. Most of the guests are Brazilian men, not that I have anything
against Brazilians, a lot of them have been very nice. But these are people
that come from money, in a culture where people who have money have maids…or
wives to pick up after them. I am not a maid, and I am definitely NOT your
wife. But for some reason, this seems like a difficult concept for them to grasp.
So I clean, A LOT. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">That infamous maid that I was
promised would come by and do all the heavy cleaning, well, um, I’ve only seen
her once. I’ve changed more beds than I
care to count. Every day I vacuum. I mop. I take out bathroom garbage full of
tp with skid marks all over it. I do dishes, and do more dishes, and then find
more dishes and wash those too. I scrub toilets and sweep floors, and make more
beds. I am a maid…but I am also supposed to be friendly, and get your beers. So
I am a maid and a bartender to 21 grown men who all think they are Casanova. And
my day starts at 7:30am and finishes when the last drunk man decides to go to
sleep. Then I get to arrange your transport, confirm your hostel booking, and
explain to you every single line item of your bill and attempt to keep a
neutral face when you try to haggle with me. You can’t haggle with me. The bill
is what the bill is. No we don’t have a credit card machine. No you can’t pay
in reales. No I can’t give you a discount because of the crappy snow situation.
No you can’t switch rooms. No you can’t leave early without paying. No, no, no,
no. Sure I can get you a beer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">And then just when I think all
my patience has been used up, I get that day off, those two days off. I wake up
late, walk up to the main road, stick my thumb out and climb into the back of
the first truck that stops to pick me up…and ride. I get to forget about all
those people, all that mess, just strap in and carve down face after face of
these spectacular mountains. It makes it all worth-while, just a couple hours outside,
alone or with friends, and I remember why I agree to answer the same question
and pick up that dirty toilet paper. It’s that sweet sound, the swish, swish,
swish, and the view of mountains that seem to go on forever and no lift
lines. I don’t do lift lines, I don’t
have to ride with crowds, I get to be practically alone in this playground, and
the city, and the noise, the dirt and the people waiting to bombard me with
beer requests, they seem so, so, so, so far away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">My time here in this ski town
hostel, it’s almost like those Patagonia hikes. Except this time it isn’t a
test of how much physical discomfort, how much pain or how much cold I can
take, it’s a test in something else entirely, it’s a daily test in patience. It’s
a chance to see if I can keep a smile on my face when people are inconsiderate
or rude. It’s a chance to see if I can see that good in you, and even in my
frustration be the person I would want to answer my stupid questions, because,
yeah, I ask stupid questions too…and yeah, I can be inconsiderate too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So my role as maid, bartender
and house-mom is teaching me something too. Even this close to the end of my
trip, life-school keeps handing me lessons. It keeps handing me important
lessons about being that example of patience, of love, of generosity…of
patience. But I even in my moments of failure, when that ugly look crosses my
face and my tone isn’t honey-sweet, I have the amazing advantage of learning
this lesson HERE. Where a look out the window can make even the bitterest soul
soften enough…make a tired housekeeper turn up the corners of her mouth and
make that thing called a smile. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Why? Because this is my life right
now. I am a part-time ski bum in the Andes, and that, even under a pile of
dirty dishes, is pretty damn sweet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-23847912211382382912012-08-12T13:51:00.001-07:002012-08-12T13:51:22.315-07:00Andes Culinary Adventures<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768221424/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="my dough is growing!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8306/7768221424_f6ca05924e_s.jpg" alt="my dough is growing!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768272840/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="our first baked good failure" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7264/7768272840_fd71e60f0d_s.jpg" alt="our first baked good failure" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768287610/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="making sopapillas" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8439/7768287610_4ded7cda8a_s.jpg" alt="making sopapillas" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768234524/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="fry them up!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7113/7768234524_9f1014d91a_s.jpg" alt="fry them up!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768246156/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="sopapillas!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8438/7768246156_74216bd739_s.jpg" alt="sopapillas!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768257372/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="our first pizza" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7120/7768257372_964d0e8b03_s.jpg" alt="our first pizza" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768301474/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="our first pizza" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8429/7768301474_10e3f37f85_s.jpg" alt="our first pizza" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768314242/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="shrimp mushroom risotto" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8304/7768314242_3d3ef34662_s.jpg" alt="shrimp mushroom risotto" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768331868/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="pizza!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7113/7768331868_80d15e8267_s.jpg" alt="pizza!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768349892/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="banana pancakes" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8282/7768349892_f6a83630c1_s.jpg" alt="banana pancakes" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768361174/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="calzone" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7248/7768361174_61705548c5_s.jpg" alt="calzone" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768376482/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="tater tots" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8306/7768376482_09eda65d84_s.jpg" alt="tater tots" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768388552/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="eggplant parm" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8285/7768388552_1406e6fb34_s.jpg" alt="eggplant parm" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768402318/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="how brazilians cook. that IS garlic" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7112/7768402318_131bb2b5cc_s.jpg" alt="how brazilians cook. that IS garlic" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768425746/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="olympic ravioli" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7106/7768425746_1414c0173e_s.jpg" alt="olympic ravioli" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768441998/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="mmm...ravioli filling" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8290/7768441998_3a224c347e_s.jpg" alt="mmm...ravioli filling" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768455228/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="Stuffing the ravioli" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8422/7768455228_aa346e3105_s.jpg" alt="Stuffing the ravioli" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7768466714/in/set-72157631037606670/" title="The finished product" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8423/7768466714_ddfc794d56_s.jpg" alt="The finished product" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157631037606670/">Andes Culinary Adventures</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>some of our kitchen success and failures. mmmm...I love food.</p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-4998479688027408012012-08-12T13:49:00.001-07:002012-08-12T13:49:04.746-07:00Bogota, Colombia<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721404240/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="market in the central square" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8286/7721404240_6979937f77_s.jpg" alt="market in the central square" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721428924/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="mmmm....fruit and/or veggie shakes" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8429/7721428924_f471bf2e8a_s.jpg" alt="mmmm....fruit and/or veggie shakes" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721427438/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Newest member of the family" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8284/7721427438_498d0bd0e2_s.jpg" alt="Newest member of the family" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721407646/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Salt Cathedral" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8284/7721407646_6321a7ccb5_s.jpg" alt="Salt Cathedral" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721429746/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Salt Cathedral" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8294/7721429746_80b54e42cd_s.jpg" alt="Salt Cathedral" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721409670/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Salt Cathedral" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8426/7721409670_e2159dbbe9_s.jpg" alt="Salt Cathedral" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721405108/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Salt Cathedral" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8421/7721405108_ff4fe0e9fd_s.jpg" alt="Salt Cathedral" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721414548/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Salt Cathedral" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8432/7721414548_80ef7765e8_s.jpg" alt="Salt Cathedral" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721419990/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Salt Cathedral" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8430/7721419990_ac8583356e_s.jpg" alt="Salt Cathedral" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721406656/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Gold Museum...no wonder the conquistadors were all up on colombia" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8285/7721406656_0c02235fac_s.jpg" alt="Gold Museum...no wonder the conquistadors were all up on colombia" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721406006/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Gold Museum...no wonder the conquistadors were all up on colombia" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8422/7721406006_6b0e83b99d_s.jpg" alt="Gold Museum...no wonder the conquistadors were all up on colombia" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721410562/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Gold Museum...no wonder the conquistadors were all up on colombia" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8286/7721410562_7b926ed7f0_s.jpg" alt="Gold Museum...no wonder the conquistadors were all up on colombia" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721408976/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="Gold Museum...no wonder the conquistadors were all up on colombia" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7276/7721408976_27f18db74d_s.jpg" alt="Gold Museum...no wonder the conquistadors were all up on colombia" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7721399020/in/set-72157630922172664/" title="chubby mona lisa" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8429/7721399020_038f880392_s.jpg" alt="chubby mona lisa" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157630922172664/">Bogota, Colombia</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>oops! forgot to load these up in order. they should be before the Varsana set.</p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-18764557886676198122012-08-12T12:42:00.000-07:002012-08-12T12:42:22.508-07:00McGuiver’s KitchenCulinary Adventures among other things in the Andes Mountains<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I am not
alone. Well, now I am, but I wasn’t for a whole month. Kristin came down to
visit. We thought we would be riding in knee deep powder every day. It didn’t
work out that way. In fact the ENTIRE month that she was here it only snowed
once, and that was the day before she left.
But we didn’t let that stop us from having a great time. Correction,
Kristin didn’t let that stop her from always being in a good mood, which in
turn made me almost forget about the fact that it wasn’t snowing. So we found
other things to do. Don’t get me wrong, we did get out there in spring skiing
conditions 10 times I think. Which, no matter how you slice it, isn’t too
shabby. Plus, I forgot that living with Kristin was basically an invitation to
be a kid all the time and that even crappy things turn out, well, fun. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So what exactly did we do since we weren’t
riding every day? </span>The times
that we didn’t head down to the big city and stayed up here in Farellones, we
cooked, a lot. We would go to Santiago to hike and shop and hang out with friends,
but mostly to stock up for our time up here where we would make all kinds of
delectable concoctions. Through this experiment we discovered that we pretty
much rock at everything, why we didn’t know this before is still something I am
trying to figure out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">We had
interesting working conditions and liked to throw in the fact that we are
living at elevation, almost 3,000 meters that translates to about 9,800ft. So
if things didn’t turn out quite right we could blame the altitude, the gas oven
with no actual temperature settings or that fact that we had to McGuiver
everything to make it work. But that is proof of our infallible skill. We made everything from scratch. That was something neither of us had ever really done before, but we had a lot of time on our hands. Once the daily chores were finished, beds made, wood chopped, everything cleaned...we could sit down and stare at eachother or we could make food. We did a little bit of both, but I think our skills in the later improved exponentially with time. So what
did we make and what ended up on our menu?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Breakfast:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Pancakes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Baked Goods/sweets:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Zucchini Bread<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Beer Bread<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Banana Bread<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Chocolate
chip Cookies<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Sugar Cookies<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Oatmeal Raisin Cookies<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Carrot Cake<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Zucchini Muffins<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Apple Crisp w/Whipped Cream<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Berry Yogurt Bread</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Sopapillas<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Dinner/lunch:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Mushroom Risotto<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Stuffed red peppers with shrimp
mushroom risotto<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Baked lemon Chicken with Garlish
Mashed potatos<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Pizzas: white(pesto, cheese,
garlic, tomato), <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 35.4pt; text-indent: 35.4pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">Turkey, onion, mushroom <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 35.4pt; text-indent: 35.4pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">Salami & mushroom, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 35.4pt; text-indent: 35.4pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">Spinach, tomato, cheese<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Eggplant Parm<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Calzone (spinach, salami,
cheese, mushroom)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Black bean, guacamole, cilantro
rice and tortillas<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Ravioli (spinach, salami, mozz, parm,
cream cheese, onion garlic)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Pierogi<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"> Tater tots<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 35.4pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"> Potatos Au Gratin<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Extras
(Drinks and snacks)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Lemonade<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"> Popcorn (and kettle corn)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not too shabby at all and skills that we can take home hopefully. We will have to see how well we do when the dream team has been seperated. But I think we have a pretty stong, tasty foundation. </div>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-54953108873438564942012-08-05T17:07:00.001-07:002012-08-05T17:07:53.043-07:00varsana - ashram living<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7372499230/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Varsana" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7229/7372499230_4a646799f1_s.jpg" alt="Varsana" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187269907/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="A river runs through it" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7233/7187269907_925233c5c7_s.jpg" alt="A river runs through it" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187270589/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Offering flowers" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5333/7187270589_840117bd4f_s.jpg" alt="Offering flowers" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7372501236/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Love rules" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7101/7372501236_6868d19de2_s.jpg" alt="Love rules" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187271893/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Varsana art temple" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5337/7187271893_6035453292_s.jpg" alt="Varsana art temple" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7372502260/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Don Julio" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7093/7372502260_4c1268ec9e_s.jpg" alt="Don Julio" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7372503088/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Putting in work picking blackberries" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5114/7372503088_708b851387_s.jpg" alt="Putting in work picking blackberries" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7372503518/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Conscious art" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8002/7372503518_72c9e8fd73_s.jpg" alt="Conscious art" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7372504022/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Mandelas" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5115/7372504022_3bd5dfb1d3_s.jpg" alt="Mandelas" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187274601/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Mmmm....breakfast" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7231/7187274601_ae53bc9843_s.jpg" alt="Mmmm....breakfast" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187312769/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Prayer cave" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7214/7187312769_367a792392_s.jpg" alt="Prayer cave" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187313237/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Mmmmm...lunch" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5315/7187313237_6634abb74b_s.jpg" alt="Mmmmm...lunch" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187313675/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Govindas restaurant" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8165/7187313675_ae918a86a0_s.jpg" alt="Govindas restaurant" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7372544086/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Mantra and chanting class" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7079/7372544086_749334059f_s.jpg" alt="Mantra and chanting class" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187314711/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="It's beautiful and functional" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7214/7187314711_0ec62b0d57_s.jpg" alt="It's beautiful and functional" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187315197/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Waterfall in dry season" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5197/7187315197_c30856fc42_s.jpg" alt="Waterfall in dry season" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187315693/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="A crazy fern tree" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7094/7187315693_92b0a1c33e_s.jpg" alt="A crazy fern tree" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187316193/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Hare Krishnas taking in the view" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7218/7187316193_f6231058cf_s.jpg" alt="Hare Krishnas taking in the view" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7372546516/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Work and beauty go hand on hand here" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8149/7372546516_17c4ce07e4_s.jpg" alt="Work and beauty go hand on hand here" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187317125/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Off to make an offering" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8157/7187317125_5f85d5a9a2_s.jpg" alt="Off to make an offering" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187576219/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Music is part of prayer" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7236/7187576219_b56e5d8b50_s.jpg" alt="Music is part of prayer" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187576643/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Fire purifies" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7093/7187576643_9b780d6a51_s.jpg" alt="Fire purifies" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7187577099/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="My little friend...good thing he's being trained to respect women" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7233/7187577099_8f55acb272_s.jpg" alt="My little friend...good thing he's being trained to respect women" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7372808298/in/set-72157630066152119/" title="Mmm....breakfast" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7079/7372808298_38125f9b65_s.jpg" alt="Mmm....breakfast" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157630066152119/">varsana - ashram living </a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>snapshot of life in a hare krishna community</p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-11780383363145053512012-08-05T17:00:00.001-07:002012-08-05T17:00:51.364-07:00Paisa Region<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473548220/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="Entry to botanical Gardin" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7133/7473548220_67145d0659_s.jpg" alt="Entry to botanical Gardin" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473542812/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="Medellin" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8024/7473542812_5ff92f9662_s.jpg" alt="Medellin" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473531826/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="Medellin" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8014/7473531826_eda7756706_s.jpg" alt="Medellin" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473546482/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="Botero Sculpture - Medellin" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7119/7473546482_0739f04555_s.jpg" alt="Botero Sculpture - Medellin" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473541888/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="Medellin public library" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7130/7473541888_8c025694e2_s.jpg" alt="Medellin public library" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473543628/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="Orchidario - Medellin" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7249/7473543628_a7b8669a04_s.jpg" alt="Orchidario - Medellin" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473544388/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="Medellin butterfly" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8144/7473544388_a5c42862e9_s.jpg" alt="Medellin butterfly" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473545146/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="Medellin Butterfly" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8151/7473545146_e053d0cfb2_s.jpg" alt="Medellin Butterfly" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473541306/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="Medellin street art" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7139/7473541306_9323cd3c0c_s.jpg" alt="Medellin street art" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473539560/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="science center Medellin" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8025/7473539560_ca0f421fe3_s.jpg" alt="science center Medellin" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473540266/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="science center Medellin" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8023/7473540266_8b2515732e_s.jpg" alt="science center Medellin" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473533390/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="looking out over Guatape" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7132/7473533390_d7d421846b_s.jpg" alt="looking out over Guatape" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473534488/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="the rock" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7137/7473534488_70c8531c6a_s.jpg" alt="the rock" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473535552/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="the rock" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7262/7473535552_bb85739707_s.jpg" alt="the rock" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473536384/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="the rock in the distance" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8016/7473536384_93c97ac399_s.jpg" alt="the rock in the distance" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473537144/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="colorful Guatape" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8027/7473537144_b563a4b3ec_s.jpg" alt="colorful Guatape" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473537974/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="colorful Guatape" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8161/7473537974_ff5a98ef75_s.jpg" alt="colorful Guatape" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473538690/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="colorful Guatape" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8027/7473538690_526a7e7b97_s.jpg" alt="colorful Guatape" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473532628/in/set-72157630358058222/" title="mmm...the colors of healthy" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7132/7473532628_ea18b31d7b_s.jpg" alt="mmm...the colors of healthy" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157630358058222/">Paisa Region</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>After Cali Stephen and I made our way north to Paisa country. These are some of my favorite pictures from Medellin and Guatape.</p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-21170925763110892652012-08-05T16:54:00.001-07:002012-08-05T16:54:27.136-07:00Roldanillo, Colombia<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720393624/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="Reunion!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8289/7720393624_a9dd6c9f2f_s.jpg" alt="Reunion!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720380388/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="local artist" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8434/7720380388_d55da167a6_s.jpg" alt="local artist" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720381552/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="local artist" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7262/7720381552_e58bfcebfc_s.jpg" alt="local artist" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720429668/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="tire bird" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8291/7720429668_f9c4c66967_s.jpg" alt="tire bird" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720383782/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="edible garden" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8421/7720383782_5e0745ddb8_s.jpg" alt="edible garden" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720376288/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="Amparo's Ranchito" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8285/7720376288_c976c9d52d_s.jpg" alt="Amparo's Ranchito" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720378380/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="Amparo ranchito" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8428/7720378380_0d9d18373d_s.jpg" alt="Amparo ranchito" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720377260/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="Roldanillo" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8428/7720377260_4e19010e29_s.jpg" alt="Roldanillo" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720379336/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="Roldanillo" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7253/7720379336_561bc16476_s.jpg" alt="Roldanillo" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720391312/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="Stephen learning how to access the good stuff" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7262/7720391312_9cafc156cc_s.jpg" alt="Stephen learning how to access the good stuff" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720400700/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="he's confused..yes, that IS a coconut" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8290/7720400700_0e7cfc497a_s.jpg" alt="he's confused..yes, that IS a coconut" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720508966/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="mmm...coconut water" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8025/7720508966_c6e02249df_s.jpg" alt="mmm...coconut water" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720440314/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="mmm...coconut water" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7121/7720440314_92044d36ec_s.jpg" alt="mmm...coconut water" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720417368/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="Reunion!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7137/7720417368_108497030e_s.jpg" alt="Reunion!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720448980/in/set-72157630921568686/" title="the fridge repair man" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8285/7720448980_2871651587_s.jpg" alt="the fridge repair man" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157630921568686/">Roldanillo, Colombia</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>reunion on Amparo's little Ranchito</p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-36886827177972135652012-08-05T16:52:00.001-07:002012-08-05T16:52:56.796-07:00Cali, Colombia<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720009284/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="lunch on the lookout" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7134/7720009284_eeb5d4445a_s.jpg" alt="lunch on the lookout" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719994748/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="home in cali" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8293/7719994748_592c443366_s.jpg" alt="home in cali" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719987882/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="pool at home" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8284/7719987882_0069fbf35f_s.jpg" alt="pool at home" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719989326/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="view from the penthouse" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7258/7719989326_31dafe5330_s.jpg" alt="view from the penthouse" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719997784/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="view down from the penthouse suite" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8430/7719997784_035483989f_s.jpg" alt="view down from the penthouse suite" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719991858/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="Beautiful tropical flowers" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7273/7719991858_03e3095fd6_s.jpg" alt="Beautiful tropical flowers" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719996268/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="Beautiful tropical flowers" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7270/7719996268_ea0927ece3_s.jpg" alt="Beautiful tropical flowers" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720000588/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="Beautiful tropical flowers" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8427/7720000588_71b3407dd0_s.jpg" alt="Beautiful tropical flowers" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720011456/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="Stephen working on his tan" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8283/7720011456_ca8687bc70_s.jpg" alt="Stephen working on his tan" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719990524/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="stephen holding the chichi monster" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8290/7719990524_7bb6d77ec9_s.jpg" alt="stephen holding the chichi monster" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720005352/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="cousins" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8147/7720005352_e58f6a3b6b_s.jpg" alt="cousins" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719993706/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="jesus has good cell coverage" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8284/7719993706_d2bea1dc35_s.jpg" alt="jesus has good cell coverage" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720007336/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="Carmenza working out on the view point" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7256/7720007336_c3a8274456_s.jpg" alt="Carmenza working out on the view point" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720024408/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="That's Cali down there" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8289/7720024408_ec4b01973a_s.jpg" alt="That's Cali down there" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720023144/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="mmmmm....salad" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7136/7720023144_48c842cd4f_s.jpg" alt="mmmmm....salad" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720021766/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="everyone all dressed up for the show" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7121/7720021766_3305591ef3_s.jpg" alt="everyone all dressed up for the show" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720061428/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="feliz cumple!" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8424/7720061428_f01163e2f0_s.jpg" alt="feliz cumple!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720032822/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="Happy Birthday Monkey!" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8430/7720032822_97fc8ab11d_s.jpg" alt="Happy Birthday Monkey!" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720051880/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="Brother and Sister" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8421/7720051880_6fa7e600a8_s.jpg" alt="Brother and Sister" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720042706/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="The crew our last night" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7121/7720042706_fdb799502e_s.jpg" alt="The crew our last night" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7720070638/in/set-72157630919360526/" title="All the ladies" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7136/7720070638_70550260c1_s.jpg" alt="All the ladies" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><div style="padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157630919360526/">Cali, Colombia</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>highlights from our 20 year reunion</p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-29040779732760365862012-08-05T16:50:00.001-07:002012-08-05T16:50:15.274-07:00Popayan, Colombia<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719667616/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="thermal baths" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8290/7719667616_a457393a1b_s.jpg" alt="thermal baths" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719668606/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="rainy day on the way to the thermal baths" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7270/7719668606_b1779c862e_s.jpg" alt="rainy day on the way to the thermal baths" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719669884/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="aguapanela con queso" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8289/7719669884_6147343dc9_s.jpg" alt="aguapanela con queso" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719902556/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="one of many white churches" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8282/7719902556_260353a9ca_s.jpg" alt="one of many white churches" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719712688/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="2nd white church" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7279/7719712688_18fae0402f_s.jpg" alt="2nd white church" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719677204/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="white AND yellow church" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8424/7719677204_181344508b_s.jpg" alt="white AND yellow church" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719679874/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="popayan" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7135/7719679874_fbbb82aa3a_s.jpg" alt="popayan" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719689374/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="popayan" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8425/7719689374_6374f673ea_s.jpg" alt="popayan" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719765606/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="beautiful white city" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7131/7719765606_123972f283_s.jpg" alt="beautiful white city" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719692664/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="popayan textures" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8282/7719692664_49dbb56a40_s.jpg" alt="popayan textures" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719895164/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="my couchsurfing host" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7112/7719895164_36e1db0254_s.jpg" alt="my couchsurfing host" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719753780/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="my host miko and another couchsurfer" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7263/7719753780_38857e5e88_s.jpg" alt="my host miko and another couchsurfer" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719737192/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="mino...my other couchsurfing host" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8424/7719737192_4ffabde154_s.jpg" alt="mino...my other couchsurfing host" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719693524/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="typical ice cream. delicious" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7119/7719693524_fd6e03a09d_s.jpg" alt="typical ice cream. delicious" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719678680/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="miko had to call me out" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8294/7719678680_7faa58df88_s.jpg" alt="miko had to call me out" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719681128/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="diego trying to get us a ride" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8422/7719681128_6c531da1da_s.jpg" alt="diego trying to get us a ride" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7719694932/in/set-72157630919022382/" title="miko trying to get us a ride" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8433/7719694932_e6431509d0_s.jpg" alt="miko trying to get us a ride" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><div style="padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://l.yimg.com/g/images/gallery-empty-icon.gif" style="margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"></div><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157630919022382/">Popayan, Colombia</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>a few shots from my 3 stops in popayan</p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-60381091076170347252012-07-20T12:06:00.000-07:002012-07-20T12:06:04.461-07:00no John Lennon hereI have been trying to get to one of these places since I started the trip, but for whatever reason it never worked out. A year is a deceptively short period of time, and now, as I'm watching it approach the last months I realize just how little I've seen. This is not regret, simply observation. I wouldn't have traded a single experience along the way for other ones I'd hoped to have...not even the Galapagos. It just means that, well, I'll have to come back. To me that is the farthest thing from sad, that is what I call, motivation. :) Next time I'll climb more mountains, scale sheer rock walls, raft wild rivers, overcome that fear of giant spiders and sway in a hammock sucking in heavy, earthy, amazon air...next time I'll have company.<br />
<br />
But that is for me to ponder later. This trip still isn't over, and I've found myself nestled into another type of community - a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Society_for_Krishna_Consciousness">hare krishna community</a>. This is new for me, pretty much everything about it, minus that I recognize a word here or a deity there. But that is pretty much where it stops, at a very superficial recognition of some concept I've heard faintly about. So I came here to learn.<br />
<br />
I am not looking for a new religion. The one that I have serves me quite well, but yoga is also a fundamental part of my life and this was an opportunity to explore that in a little more depth. It wasn´t just that, I'll be honest, I was drawn to these communities for a variety of reasons, and it's not surprising that one of them is food. I love food. I especially love fresh food heavy in vegetables, fruits and dairy. It seems the vast majority of Latin America does not share that same sentiment...this is carnivore country with potatoes served simply to soak up the blood. I appreciate meat as much as the next person. Clearly, as a guest in someone else's home, I will not turn it down but be grateful for the gesture of hospitality. However, nothing has occupied my mind more that the thought of days and days of vegetarian food. That's a given here, along with some other rules of monastic living: no drugs, alcohol, foul language, or sexual relations. This is a place for clean living, spiritual inquiry and service to God.<br />
<br />
I also get to learn some other cool things while I'm here...that's part of the trade. I volunteer for 4 hours a day in some kind of service. It can be working the land in the farm that provides a lot of our food, maintaining the gardens, working on construction or renovation projects, or general cleaning and maintenance of the place. I get to pick, and lovingly devote my time and energy to that cause. Then in the afternoon there is another 2 hour window where I can learn about vegetarian cooking, baking, mantras and chanting, conscious art or yogic philosophy. I get a place to sleep, 3 meals a day, a yoga class and I get to be surrounded by lovely people in a beautiful place. My exchange of a few hour of labor (which is still teaching me a lot) and $10 a day, seems almost unfair.<br />
<br />
But we learn from each other, me and these ashram dwellers. I am a window to a world very different from the one they live in. I have experiences, skills, talents and opinions to share, and they have openly taken me in curious about what exactly makes me, me. We chat with my forearms covered in flour as we knead bread. I am invited to the front of the room to guide a yoga class in my broken spanglishskrit and they mimic my movements with warm, glowing smiles. I am greeted as madre (mother) followed by a prayer to Hare Krishna. I am surrounded at breakfast and lunch by new faces...some old and wrinkled like a ripe grandmother, others overflowing with energy that comes natural to children. They ask...How long will I stay? They want to know...when will I come back?<br />
<br />
I am not a member of this community, simply a guest curious about a different way of life. I don't subscribe to all their traditions, rituals, beliefs or superstitions. It's ok, I don't have to. They simply ask that I respect them while I'm here. That's easy enough, they aren't pushy about it, but have an open door if I want to walk through it. I may not buy it all, but I'm grateful to be here, to have the chance to sit on the fringes and watch their beautiful rhythm unfold in these green Colombia hills. I may not drink this particular brand of Kool Aide but those who have, sure are nice people; really trying to live in harmony with what they believe. That is an easy thing to respect.<br />
<br />
It's a drastic change to compare that to one of the other volunteers that showed up. This new guy, he is going to serve as an interesting teacher as well. He carries with him an air of arrogance, one of those holier-than-thou types who acts as if he always knows best. It is a constant reminder for me to keep my ego in check. I want to continue to grow but not become blinded by my own sense of right. He's one of those "yogis" that is obsessed with how only alive foods are good, vegan and raw is THE only and purest way to live and harshly judges those that don't conform his strict way of being. He's convinced that somehow his diet is going to bring him spiritual enlightenment...I think, well, how about not being an asshole to people. Let's start with that maybe? I tried to have a conversation with him, asking him the why's of his chosen path. He seemed so confident of his direction and I wanted to know why. What drove him to make these choices? What can I learn from your experiences?<br />
<br />
It didn't take long to realize that he is still trying to figure that out. He's latched on to certain recommendations or guidelines without ever fully understanding them...without himself ever having asked why? So his actions and his presence are one of a challenge, I dare you to live differently from me and then I can feel superior living an enlightened life with my raw food.<br />
<br />
So I try to love him. I try not to react to his comments and judgements. I try to see myself in him and mould the parts of myself I don't like. I see my interaction with him as practice for all the similar creatures that I know will come across my path. So I try to be grateful, I try to be open, I try to see the god in him...because<br />
that, not the almond cheese, is really his true nature, even if he doesn't know it yet.<br />
<br />
In a world free of modern conveniences and distractions, I have plenty of opportunity to devote myself to this loving practice...to bite my tongue and smile...to rehearse my own personal mantras gleaned from my weekly bible lesson, to stain my fingers in blackberry juice while plucking fat berries from the vine. I have pockets of stolen moments to sit in the sun reading, marinating in the knowledge buried in these sacred texts. Night comes early and my path is lit by glowing flashes of fireflies...five...twenty....hundreds...turning on and off. I sleep, on a hard bed that is nothing more than a thin mat over wood slats, a heavy, mostly dreamless sleep. The kind of sleep that accompanies a content and innocent consciousness.The kind of sleep that even drugs can't buy.<br />
<br />
It rains here all the time, it must be the secret to the green. But the rain is like rebirth, every morning is washed clean, every day is a new start. I hear it tink-tink on the roof of the simple house at night when I curl up with my books and in the morning it is accompanied by the sound of a conch shell ushering in morning prayer. Good morning, I am still here...let's work on being that light, let's work on being that joy, let's be that love...as I make my way to breakfast and prepare for my morning of selfless service.<br />
<div id=":8i">
<br />
I am ready before my fellow volunteers. This is not new, it happens every morning. I sit waiting at my usual table for breakfast. Govinda, the devotee who works with us volunteers brings me breakfast and sits across the table. How are you doing? she asks. I tell her I'm well. She looks me hard in the face and asks me again. I guess, I'm an open book to everyone. So I come clean and confess that, well, maybe I am a little tired. Is it the others? she asks. I admit, there are two other volunteers with me, the aforementioned guy and his "girlfriend." They fight a lot and complain about most everything: the food, the weather, the work, each other. They try to put me in the middle of their bickering and I refuse, but yes, it can be exhausting. I came here to get away for a while, to work and learn and grow...not play babysitter to tweedledee and tweedledum. I don't want to be harsh, I don't want to judge, but honestly the complaining just gets old and I am not sure what else I can do. What did they expect to find that they seem so unhappy with what is there? With a pleading look I asked her...are most of the volunteers like that? Isn't it clear in the website and the orientation what this community was about, what was required of volunteers? Was I crazy to expect more from my peers?<br />
<br /></div>
<div id=":8i">
</div>
<div id=":8i">
Govinda smiled her radiant smile and she told me to be patient. Not everyone is like you, she reminded me. You are very blessed. Yes I know, I agreed. I have been very blessed, my life is full of blessings. And I don't expect everyone to be just like me...that would be quite boring.<br />
<br /></div>
<div id=":8i">
</div>
<div id=":8i">
She shook her head like I didn't understand. "Claudia," she says,"let me tell you something. When you first arrived here I was surprised by how much I was drawn to you. You have a beautiful presence and a foundation that is so clear and so strong and it draws people to you. You have a sincere love that radiates and welcomes people in. You are blessed to have a starting point that other people may spend their whole lives trying to reach and because of this your actions are sure. Be patient, love them, we are not all as lucky as you are."<br />
<br /></div>
<div id=":8i">
</div>
<div id=":8i">
What could I possibly say to that? I never saw myself in that light. In fact I see myself as a work in progress, very much in progress. This was the kindest spoken criticism and most beautiful compliment I had ever heard. I was speechless, this strange battle of embarrassed and proud moving through my thoughts. With that Govinda stood up, responding the sound of the bickering in the distance. The other 2 volunteers were coming and she was off to get them breakfast.<br />
<br /></div>
<div id=":8i">
</div>
<div id=":8i">
"Hare Krishna," she called to them with that same radiant smile as made her way across the grass.<br />
<br /></div>
<div id=":8i">
</div>
<div id=":8i">
Yes, I get it...Hare Krishna
</div>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-172966264903675592012-07-20T11:48:00.000-07:002012-07-20T11:53:47.952-07:00So you think YOU can dance?<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;">It's Sunday morning, and we’re sitting around the breakfast table drinking fresh hot chocolate, speaking a medley of Spanglish, laughing at stories of the antics we pulled as children. We are getting caught up in the loves and heartbreaks and flings and passions of our recent past. We are decoding the differences of our two distinct cultures. We are being introduced to new fruits and new foods with silly names and stranger compositions. We walk the patio and marvel at the color of the gorgeous tropical plants. We meet ALL the family dogs, Arnold (the giant black lab), Yoyo (the troublemaker beagle) and Lolo (the chi-chi monster yorkie that hates people other than Carmenza and Juliana). We talk about school, university programs, work, businesses started and failed and soon to start with assured success. We talk about music and dancing and the culture of “rumba” in Cali.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;">We finish eating breakfast ans they ask us what we want for lunch. Lunch? Already?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s a sunny day so
we take advantage of it to sit buy the pool. Stephen needs to work on his
tan bad-like and we don’t really have anything we need to do. So we all migrate outside…and we talk, and we
talk, and we talk, and we talk, and we eat, because that is what family does and
this is family.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInYYj2cz4u2BP0pKV6uaHbiVUdkMxghgsKI-aprg-0T1R_9HbxyO3_y5-qvMVJSPDMjloXxQLgVlWFBJCTcyD-ZG04trwtAtuR0SoN0UsbpZsS9gmk3mE150Dfp6j4tO9SXAWqdga_rE/s1600/claudia+ipod+288.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInYYj2cz4u2BP0pKV6uaHbiVUdkMxghgsKI-aprg-0T1R_9HbxyO3_y5-qvMVJSPDMjloXxQLgVlWFBJCTcyD-ZG04trwtAtuR0SoN0UsbpZsS9gmk3mE150Dfp6j4tO9SXAWqdga_rE/s320/claudia+ipod+288.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stephen exposing himself to some much needed sun. I've had a little bit of a head start :)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOqe7Lt3_i89T8HANUHNXuWHTyxDHYdWky7bsZeU8Xg1AqsKZydOpAIdUA4RHW6J5P_hT7ByZ0UYQoGc5jtRiZWk6ByYpknpOYSvA_hwwMU1P2OWoSNpWxNcdF1m0m6i89qPZTuJEhsGE/s1600/claudia+ipod+294.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOqe7Lt3_i89T8HANUHNXuWHTyxDHYdWky7bsZeU8Xg1AqsKZydOpAIdUA4RHW6J5P_hT7ByZ0UYQoGc5jtRiZWk6ByYpknpOYSvA_hwwMU1P2OWoSNpWxNcdF1m0m6i89qPZTuJEhsGE/s400/claudia+ipod+294.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cast from left to right: Juliana, Alvaro, Stephen, Carmenza, me</td></tr>
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<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">In all honesty
talking and eating constituted most of what we did in Cali. I may be halfway
around the world, but this really does feel like home. I admit that nothing
outside the gates of the house is familiar, but the warmth, this love,
this…this I know. I keep finding it, I keep rediscovering it, I keep learning
it with everywhere I go and everyone I meet. This fullness isn’t just in my
belly, it’s an overflowing hospitality that’s wrapped it’s arms right around me
like the long lost daughter I never knew I was. This is latin culture. This is
that amazing thing my mother was willing to leave behind but was determined to
recreate in her new life in the states. This is that thing I think I was trying
to find….and all of a sudden things that I never understood start making sense.
Maybe I’m not a total gringa after all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">But we can’t just
gorge ourselves and marinade in the comfort of this house. There is some
exploring we have to do. So we create an itinerary for ourselves to get to know
Cali a bit, to reunite with Amparo on her little ranchito, to head back down to
Popayan. We have a few days to play with and pack those full in the company of
wonderful friend and family. I get to wrap my arms around my adoptive
grandmother…it’s been a long 10 years since we saw each other last. She looks
wonderful, so glad to see my brother and I that happy tears roll down her
painted cheeks. She lives in a small town in a rustic little house surrounded
by lush vegetation…edible vegetation: corn, gigantic avocados, coconuts, fruits
I don’t know. We sit together and talk well into the night, laughing, crying
and laughing more. But it is a short visit, too short after so much time apart,
but we drink in every moment and I promise to come back again, soon. 10 years
is too long and she is too important and this place is too beautiful. In a
bittersweet embrace it’s time to go. Time is playing those evil tricks again
and it’s managed to steal a day…but we have to go. We bus all day to get to
Popayan to really only have 1 day there. That too is kept short because we have
to be back to Cali on Friday night with enough time to make ourselves look
respectable. We have been invited by Alvaro and Carmenza to a salsa/circus show…where
I was told that I will be expected to dance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Let’s be honest, I
have overcome a lot of my fears on this trip. I’ve faced some bragworthy
challenges head on. I’ve grit my teeth through cold and wet and painful. I’ve
blinked back tears of sadness and frustration. I’ve taken big bites of
“regional delicacies”. I’ve woken up with a roach inches from my face. I’ve got
lost, been burned, tired, hungry and scared…but nothing, I mean nothing is more
terrifying to me than the thought of being expected to salsa dance in Cali.
Nothing…I’d rather face those jellyfish in Ecuador again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">This isn’t just salsa
and this isn’t just any town. This is Cali, Colombia, the world famous and
rightfully so. The capital of rumba and of beautiful people who make sweating
look sexy. If salsa wasn’t born here, nobody would ever guess it. This is where
babies start that fancy footwork with diapers on. It’s where women AND men shake
their hips like they’ve been disconnected from the rest of their bodies and
manage to look good while doing it. And you want me to what? Dance, in front of
these people…in 5” heels and micro-mini to boot?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">I take back what I
said; maybe I am a total gringa. That’s not soooo bad. At least then I’ll have
an excuse to look like a dying fish or a robot. In the back of my mind I keep
thinking maybe I’ll be able to get out of dancing if I politely refuse. Worse
case worse I can fake a cramps. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">But before all that I
have to make myself look respectable. Not just any kind of respectable either,
we’re talking Colombia nightlife respectable. I could see the look of despair
on Carmenza and Juliana’s faces. I’m a backpacker for crying out loud, whose “nice”
clothes mean anything that is mostly clean. I don’t have a party dress in
there, or heels, or hair straightener, or make-up or jewelry or magic body
scrub that can legitimately clean 10 months of travel off my skin. At least I
got that pedicure in Quito…at least all my toenails have grown back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">However I was in the
company of two beautiful Colombian women with a good sense of style and they
were up for the challenge. It must have been like playing dress up… I would get
hangers and hangers and hangers of dresses, pants, skirts (if you want to call
them that) handed to me to try. Each combination was paired with different
shiny, strappy, very high heels that would then coordinate with some dangly
earrings and bracelets. They were going to make me Colombia pretty if it took
everything in the closet to do it and succeed they did. Unfortunately the
outfit didn’t automatically make me a dancer. For that I was going to be left
to my own devices and hopefully a very, very good partner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Stephen got cleaned
up pretty good too. At the end of the night we were quite the handsome crew,
all 8 of us all spiffy for a night on the town. What a treat it was. The show
was incredible, the costumes, the music, the dancing…all of it. Stephen was
quick to find his way to the floor rotating between Carmenza, Juliana,
Susie(Carmenza’s sister) and Laura. It seemed like he’d never forgotten the
practice he got in his year spend living down here. I got mostly through the
night before the pressure was really turned on. If Stephen can dance, then
clearly I can too. But that was where they were wrong. All my modesty, all my
hesitation could only resist for so long…when Stephen came and asked me to
dance I was about ready to kidney punch him for selling me out like that. Even
if I said no it wouldn’t have mattered; you can’t really say no.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">So reluctantly I let
myself get pulled to the dance floor, with eyes wide with fear and far more of
my legs exposed than would be considered appropriate back home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">The music pretty much
moves you, and even if you don’t want to, you can’t stop a little wiggle in the
hips. He kept it basic for me, avoiding the turns and twists that were guaranteed
to trip me up, and we had a great time. Brother and sister, in borrowed clothes,
re-united after a few years of absence to a place of one of our most
significant childhood memories, with our new family, dancing salsa in Cali…and
I liked it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">And just when I think
I’ve seen it all, life school gives me this. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span><br />
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-25037003402541942292012-07-12T13:38:00.000-07:002012-07-12T13:38:23.403-07:00After 20 years it's all brand newPlans are changing again. I had a plan...it seemed like a good one and it involved me climbing Cotopaxi, spending a couple weeks in the jungle region of Ecuador, spending a couple weeks in a yoga village on the fringes of that jungle, then slowly working my way through Colombia, exploring the virgin Caribbean coast and then spending my last month on the beaches of Costa Rica before flying home. <br /> <br />Then 2 things happened. First of all, I found work in Chile, which meant that I would spend the ski season in the Andes...so that pretty much wiped out all of plan A. Then I was surprised to hear that I would have another visitor; my brother was coming down for about 2 weeks and wanted to meet me in Colombia - over Memorial Weekend. That was less than 2 weeks away, and, well, I was still on the Galapagos. So now I was going to have to run through Ecuador, completely skip the jungle, the mountain, the yoga village and get really comfortable on a bus to get the Cali in time. <br /> <br />All that time crawling on the Galapagos was flipped in an instant. Days were moving by so fast, so were cities, towns, buses, faces and families. They all just zipped by. I crossed the border from Ecuador into Colombia trying to wrap my head around what just happened. Who was I just with? What did I just see? What did I miss? Ecuador, like most places on this journey has been flagged as one of those countries I'll just have to come back to...somehow, someway, someday. <br /> <br />But Colombia holds a special place in my heart for a variety of reasons. I consider Colombia a strand in my cultural roots, a place that is connected to me even if I never really understood how. My mother was raised in Colombia and brought with her parts of her traditions when she came to the United States, and I, unknowingly adopted parts of those traditions. But perhaps the most significant reason is that Colombia was my first ever international travel destination. I was a small 8yr old girl, with a 10yr old brother and a stuffed animal named Bumbum to count as my friends when we boarded that plane to Cali 20 years ago. My mom had arranged for us to stay with her best girlhood friend for nearly 2 months. My brother and I didn't know them (the family we would be staying with), we didn't know the language, we didn't understand the culture...we didn't even really know where we were going other than it was really, really, really far away. <br /><br />That was 20 years ago. It's incredible how memories change, evolve, fade. I was about to walk back in time those 20 years and see this family and this culture again...but really for the first time. And like that summer so long ago, I would have my brother by my side. In all my planning, I never imagined this. But really who could have? I split up my ride from Quito to Cali for a brief stay in Pasto and then Popayan. In Popayan I was hosted by some fantastic couchsurfers who made me feel like a best friend with hours of our meeting. I didn't want to leave, but I had to. My brother was flying in from New Jersey and in all honesty I hadn't really spent any quantifiable time with him in nearly 4 years. It would be despicable to show up late today. My new friends made me promise to come back with my brother so they could meet him too. Even if it wasn't for my great hosts I would have come back with Stephen. The town is beautiful, colonial, small, and the entire historic center is painted white like something out of a movie. <br /><br /> From there I got on a bus to Cali, onto the chaotic sprawl of Cali. It was dark when I arrived and the route takes you through the poor areas in the south of the city; it takes you past homeless people huddled around barrel fires, sleeping in doorways and under overpasses, and past poor street kids knocking on car windows for change. I didn't remember any of this, I just remembered a very nice house, a country club with a really, really high dive, and a live-in maid with a daughter about my age...the memories of an 8yr old. In reality nothing about my memories said “Colombia” it could have been a beautiful house anywhere. <br /><br /> Stephen and I arrived at about the same time at 2 very different locations, one at the bus terminal and one at the airport. This was my fault; I should have left Popayan earlier. In the end it all worked out and before long we were all in the car: Alvaro (my host dad), Carmenza (my host mom), Juliana (it's latin america, we'll call her my cousin), Stephen and I. It was almost the same cast of my childhood, minus Alvaro Jose(the son) who was out of town. Once he got there it really would be a reunion...a phone call would have to do until he was back in town. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We were all sitting together at a restaurant along the river eating empanadas and playing catch up. I felt bad; they kept asking me if I remembered things: people, places, events, food. I always thought I had such vivid memories of Colombia, turns out they were spotty at best and mostly limited to the layout of an otherwise beautiful house and the bickering of children trying to play games lost in translation. But there we were, all grown up, and I could swear I’d never been there before, never met THESE people. But I recognized the faces and I knew the names, but that was where it stopped. <br /><br /> We would have a few days to actually get to know each other. Plus I would have a couple weeks to get to know my brother again. We would go and spend some time with Amparo, a woman I consider to be my grandmother, explore a new city (Medellin), and spend time with Stephen’s adoptive family in Bogota. Colombia, it seemed, was going to be a lot of family. To be frank, I was totally okay with that and thrilled that I would get to share these long overdue reunions with my brother. It was definitely different from everything else I had done to date. After 10 months…it’s all still new.</div>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-80396994088291491882012-06-30T12:25:00.001-07:002012-06-30T12:25:55.390-07:00playing sea lions<div style="margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;"><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="500" height="281" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=109786" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=8aa6583576&photo_id=7473946638&flickr_show_info_box=true"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=109786"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=109786" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=8aa6583576&photo_id=7473946638&flickr_show_info_box=true" height="281" width="500"></embed></object><br/><span style="margin: 0;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7473946638/">playing sea lions</a> a video by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/">claudia.saunders</a> on Flickr.</span></div><p>these little fellows made my last day on San Crsitobal!</p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-74440006339101432712012-06-28T18:21:00.002-07:002012-06-28T18:21:27.698-07:00It wasn´t ALL bad you know<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So now that
I've had a chance to complain about my time on the Galapagos, I have to admit
it wasn't all bad either. I had almost a full week off where I had the
opportunity to explore 2 of the neighboring islands; Isabella and San
Cristobal. These two islands are available to people like me who want to visit
some of the other sights without going on an organized tour...this is because
these two islands have towns were people live full time and a regular commuter
system takes people between them and Santa Cruz. So no, it wasn't the virgin
Galapagos thing, but each island WAS distinctly different, not just in the
animal life, but also in the culture. It didn't take long to realize that I had
been living on the tourist trap island and these other two spots were still
slightly tourist trappy but also had a lot of other stuff going on too...like
animals, lots and lots of animals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Yes, cool
animals DO live on the Galapagos and they really aren't shy, not even a little.
My first stop on my shoestring Galapagos tour was to Isabella Island. This is
the largest island in the archipelago, and home to the second largest volcanic
crater in the world (the first being in Hawaii) as well as GALAPAGOS PENGUINS!
uh-huh, I said penguins. Obviously this was high on my list of things to see
while there, as well as the Tintoreras sharks, manta rays and green sea
turtles. I was planning on spending about 3 days on the island and hoped that
would be enough time. There are two boats that leave daily from Santa Cruz to
Isabella, one at 7 am and the other at 2:30pm. I stayed in town the night
before and opted to take the 7 am so at to arrive at Isabella around 9 and have
a full day there. I was blessed with absolutely perfect weather the entire week
and to top it off I found a cheap little place to stay that had a kitchen,
hammocks and free bananas for the taking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Like usual,
I didn't really have a too much of a plan for my time there. I was considering
some of the tours, one in particular that took you specifically by the little
island where the penguins were rumored to live. Maybe I would rent a mountain
bike and ride around to some of the sights on the island, there was a ride that
you could do to go out to the Muro de Lagrimas, a famous wall built during the
period of time where the island housed a penitentiary. The job of the wall was
that it made "weak men die and strong men cry." Looking at the wall
it wasn't hard to understand why that was the case, it was tough sentence to be
sent to the Galapagos to fulfill your prison term...these islands weren't
always a dream vacation destination.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">But first
things first, I had to get my bearings in the little town and had to scrounge
up some food. I noticed on the walk over that there were a few little stores
that would have the basics: cereal, yogurt...ramen, kind of like being in
college again. There was a nice beach not too far away where surfers hung out,
and a good portion of it was roped off because it was a nesting beach for
marine iguanas. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Close to
where the boat docked was the short trail head for a popular snorkel area
called Concha y Perla. It is in essence a natural salt water pool that rises
and falls with the tide. I figured that would be a good place to start my
search for animals. I had borrowed a snorkel and mask from GSC so as to save
myself a few bucks in rental fees and headed off toward to the pool. It was
high tide, I wasn't really sure what that meant for wildlife, but I figured I
would try my luck. I wasn't that lucky, but there was one very large, very lazy
adult green turtle munching away on some delectable sea treats, which meant
that I could get within inches of his/her face without it so much a bothering
to look at me. I took advantage of this apparent weakness and got all up in
that turtle's face, swimming around it, coming up for air and diving back down.
I never touched it, I can respect the rules, but it wouldn't have been a
challenge if it wanted to; I honestly doubt it would have even bothered to
move. Eventually though, I got bored with him/her and was getting a little cold
so I bid her farewell and collected my things to do some other sightseeing. I
was stopped by a guy, perched up on the wood fence that surrounded the natural
pool. We got to chatting, his name was Luis, he was from the island and worked
as a dive guide there. He had the next couple days off and wanted to know if,
well, I wanted some company. Sure, why not?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So I
managed to get myself a local guide. I didn't know how handy this was actually
going to be. It turns out my new friend Luis knew other people who could get me
things for free or for very cheap. For the first time on this trip I was going
to pay local prices. This was a welcome change. Plus I did get the added bonus
of having someone to show me around. My tour started right there, we walked
back to my hostel to drop of the gear and then went to the land tortoise
breeding center. This was similar to the Darwin research center on Santa Cruz,
where the famous lonesome George lived, but this one was much better done.
There was a really great information center that showcased the life of the land
tortoise, the reproductive process and had handy life-sized models showing
their growth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">My guide
Luis, asked me if I had any plans for the following days, or if there was
anything in particular I was interested doing. I told him that I was thinking
about doing the tour to Las Tintoreras maybe tomorrow or the next day. If I was
willing to wait until the next day, he might be able to get us on the tour for
free. So I readily agreed...free was definitely in my price range. He had the
next day off and suggested we take bikes and ride out to the wall. He would
show me all the cool things along the way. I wasn't entirely sure what I had
done to earn this guide, but I wasn't about to complain. He wanted to show me
around and I wasn't about to complain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So that is
exactly what we did. We made plans to meet the next day, rent bikes and ride
around to everything we could get to on bike. <span> </span>I really did have a great guide. He had the
route all planned out, and we saw the Muro de Lagrimas, all the fresh and saltwater
pools along the way – one of which had a couple bright pink flamingos, small
beaches full of marine iguanas, lava tubes, and finished up in town to return
the bikes. <span> </span>It was full great day, he
even accompanied me to dinner, showed me his favorite spot in town. <span> </span>It was the local spot with local prices and a
very predictable local menu, beans, rice and meat. We made plans to meet the
following day to snorkel and go on the tintoreras tour. He had been able to get
in touch with his friend and they did have space for us to go for free.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I had the whole
morning to myself so I decided to park it down on the beach and read. It was
easy for Luis to find me and in the early afternoon he showed up. It was time
to rent me a decent snorkel so I gathered up my stuff and off we went. We spent
a good 2 hours snorkeling around Concha Y Perla, climbing up and over the rock
pools, but mostly we just saw fish. All the sharks and turtles were hiding somewhere
else. We saw them that afternoon when we got on the tour…and the sea lions, and
penguins, and rays. There were so many of these critters around and they wanted
to play! The sea lions wanted to play more than anything. I was so thrilled, I
got to not just see the penguins and sharks but swim with them too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So I really
am on the Galapagos!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I thanked
Luis for being such a great guide, he really made my time on Isabella that much
better. If it wasn’t for him, I probably would have missed a lot…and paid
considerably more. I had an early morning boat back to Santa Cruz the following
day, but the connecting boat to San Cristobal didn’t leave Santa Cruz until the
afternoon. That meant that I would have practically half a day to bum around,
which clearly meant that I would go to Tortuga Bay, the beautiful white sand crescent
beach on the island. The boat left at 2 and got me to San Cristobal by 4:30. I
found a great little place to stay close to the dock, dropped off my stuff and
took to walking along the pier. The first thing I noticed was the obscene
amount of sea lions. They were everywhere. They had completely taken over the
pier.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I would
only have 2 full days on San Cristobal, and there were a few things that I was
hoping to do. Mostly, I wanted to surf. I had seen pretty much all the critters
I’d wanted to see on Isabella, but I hadn’t had a chance to surf. <span> </span>I didn’t get to do this. It is stupid
expensive and only reef breaks. I am not good enough to mess with reef breaks.
Fortunately there are lots of other things to see and do on the island so it
was easy to fill my days. <span> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">There is
actually a really, really great information center on the island. Cristobal is
the historical capital of the islands as well as the base for the military. The
information center talked a lot about the history of the islands, the
challenges that the islands currently face and the hopes for the future. From
the information center was couple of trails to take you to different look-out
points and swim spots. It was easy to spend a whole day there, and that was
exactly what happened. One of the swim spots was a rocky cove and a small group
of sea lions were hanging out there and wanted to join me for a swim. Of course
I had to indulge them. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span>J</span></span><span lang="EN-US"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The next
day when I was walking along the road to the beach I started talking to a guy the
same way. He was an American who got a job teaching English at the university
on the island. It was his day off and he was heading to the beach. <span> </span>But he knew a different beach, so he invited
me to go with him. He would be meeting some friends there, and hopefully if
there were good waves, he’d be able to surf. So I tagged along. What great
luck, this beach swarming with sunbathing sea lions and in the water…tons of
giant sea turtles. <span> </span>My new American friend
let me borrow his mask and snorkel so I could see all the turtles. I had no
idea how many there were! He told me some great stories about his life on the
island and how the sea lions had taken to playing with him and his board. They are
like giant puppies he told me. I soon got to see what he meant. These were the
most playful yet, not a care in the world as they spent hours sunbathing,
rolling in the surf and swimming. If I ever get to come back and give this
world another shot, I think I’d like to be a sea lion. I stayed on that beach
until the sun set, fully aware that my time on the islands was drawing to a
close. Pretty soon I’d be back on the continent and scooting my way up to
Colombia and then all the way back to Chile. I must just well enjoy my last day
to sit on the beach; it will be a while before I get to this again. It is most certainly
the last day that I will ever be here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">It was a
happy place to be. Things were going to be changing for me pretty rapidly. My time
as a solo backpacker was ending. I was going to be meeting up with my brother
soon and reuniting with old friends. <span> </span>Soon after that I would be heading down to
Chile to work…and then I would be coming home. In whatever form that might
take.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Home…it’s
time to start thinking about what that might be. So with my toes buried in that
tropical Galapagos sand, the sinking low over the horizon, and sea lions
beckoning me for one more round of play, I really started to think about home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-27575494692927578132012-05-27T18:51:00.000-07:002012-05-27T18:51:42.447-07:00Living and learning tortuga timeOne full month on the Galapagos. In a one year sabbatical I was going to spend a full 12th of it on these islands. I had this romantic idea of what that would be like: bathing with cute sea critters, gingerly stepping my way along paths overflowing with giant land tortoises, watching in awe as black marine iguanas cliff dive into the ocean and of course learning the tricks of the trade of running a luxury resort.<br />
<br />
I had sent a message in response to a posting I'd found for a volunteer position at this luxury resort on Santa Cruz island. At first it seemed they wouldn't need me and told me that they had all the volunteers necessary until probably July. With that sad bit of insight I just figured that I would have to skip the Galapagos on this<br />
trip and come back one day when I had money to burn. Just when I had given up hope I got a message back saying that, well, something had come up with the other volunteers and if I'd like to come I was more<br />
than welcome. I dove into the offer without really understanding what I ment, and I booked a ticket to spend a month among the famous wildlife of the Galapagos.<br />
<br />
It didn't go exactly as I had imagined it would. Really in retrospect, I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking; or if I even was for that matter. Mostly, I got wrapped up in the romantic idea of some magical place...and based on the experiences I'd had thus far, my expectations didn't seem all too unreasonable.<br />
<br />
I flew into Baltra, was picked up by a man with my name written on a sign, who then proceeded to guide me through the rather convoluted process of leaving the airport. It broke down something like this: bus to boat to bus to car. Yes, even leaving the airport requires you to get on a boat here. The color of the water took my breath away: clear, vibrant turquoise...and it's warm. Holy cow, can this be real? I get to spend a month HERE?<br />
<br />
Well, not exactly. It turns out the airport is far away from the town...but the luxury hotel where I was slated to work was far from both. It was in the highlands, or la parte alta, in local lingo. I wouldn't find this out until nearly a week later, but town is a full 45 min drive away...and that translates into a $15 taxi ride. Hitchhiking (what I was planning on doing to get around) was a non-option. There are practically no private cars, this whole place moves on the wheels of taxis.<br />
<br />
When I arrived to Galapagos Safari Camp I was greeted by Katrien, the manager and my point of contact. She seemed a bit frazzled, but pleasant enough and told me sweetly that I would be staying in one of the tents and she hopes I enjoy the experience. As she was expecting the paying guests to return at any moment, she apologized for not being able to show me around but directed the driver to place my things in my tent. Lunch was available if I was interested and she offered me a smorgasbord of beverage options. Help yourself to whatever you want she told me. The same goes for breakfast...just take whatever you need. I took her word at face value and assumed that her open invitation was common practice. This job was an exchange, I work for food and accomodation, a similar concept to what I did in Puerto Natales. She didn't really have anything planned for me for that day. She just invited me to take a rest, freshen up and come back up to talk to her...whenever.<br />
<br />
So for the first time in what felt like ages, I threw down my yoga mat and practiced in privacy. This month, I thought, will really be a month of recovery, meditation, moving forward and letting go. This month, I will have some of that space to really cultivate that part of me that yearns for spiritual growth. And looking out past the porch of my $500/night luxury tent, I smiled a smile from deep inside.<br />
<br />
It was unfortunately a short-lived bliss, one that reminded me that outside beauty, luxury and general material opulence won't bring you a step closer to genuine peace, joy or gratitude. Swaddled in these seeming riches it was a matter of days before I was fighting a loneliness I had never really expected to face on this trip and<br />
wondered in that heavy solitude, why exactly I ever started this stupid endeavor anyway. What am I doing here without the people I really love nearby? What am I wasting all this time and money for? What did I really expect to learn by running around South America? What, really am I trying to find? And for the first time in nearly 8 months, I actually considered calling it quits...I actually considered coming home early.<br />
<br />
But my parents didn't raise a quitter. I remembered a lonely phone call made to my parents 6 years ago when I wanted to backpack my way around western Europe. Justin had just left me to go home and I was sitting alone, in Berlin without a plan or a companion, feeling scared, lost and overwhelmed...sick with fear. My mom got on the line and told me to come on home, my dad got on the line and told me that yes, of course I could come home, but that I'd never forgive myself. He reminded me that, I actually wanted just this, and this experience that I was going through, it will pass, that all that good I envisioned was waiting right there for me to acknowledge it. He was right and look fondly on the time that followed those sad dark days. I wouldn´t have traded it for the world. This sadness, this loneliness, this frustration, it will pass too.<br />
<br />
I'd like to believe I've grown a bit since that summer after college. In some ways surely I have, but in my first few days here on the islands I felt like that homesick little girl calling mom and dad from a payphone in Berlin. I didn't like it here. I wanted to go home. I felt aliented, isolated, unwanted, somehow in the way...purposeless and usually hungry.<br />
<br />
I didn't get a very warm welcome from the actual owners of the resort. They made it pretty clear those first few days that I wasn't really wanted, and they saw me presence there as a bit of a nusance...and me as a freeloader. I didn't have clear direction on what my work was supposed to be, I didn't have equipment to get it done, and aside from that my tent was inhabited by me, several VERY large spiders and a couple roaches...and the food I was supposed to be getting, well...I wasn't getting it. The internet connection was spotty at best, and it served to make me feel that much more alone. I couldn't even reach out to the ones that I was missing so dearly. I knew that I was on the Galapagos, I mean I bought a ticket here, I saw a big ass turtle on the way over, but it just didn't feel like it. It was hard to remember why exactly I thought I wanted to come. What was all the hype about anyway?<br />
<br />
Time crawled on this island, every second moving forward with tremendous effort like the giant tortoise struggling to take a step. Minutes felt like days and days like weeks...and all of it without direction. By the third day I was already going stir crazy with island fever wondering how I would last a full month.<br />
<br />
I was unclear on what exactly my role was supposed to be. I was under the impression that I would be working with the guests more in a role of service/hostess, but Katrien had other plans. She was hoping I could do some graphic design work for them. Fairly simple things really, but the details that would pull the image if the place together stronger. Stephanie, one of the owners wanted me to sort through thousands of pictures to select the best ones for marketing materials. Problem was I didn't really have a computer. These are things that require a computer. So really there was a lot of me sitting around twiddling my thumbs. And with lots of time to twiddle thumbs the human mind can go crazy.<br />
<br />
I think I was starting to go crazy. But then I discovered it wasn't so bad, at least I'd have a friend to lose it with me. There was another girl here volunteering, but she actually was working with the guests. Natalie is a little rough around the edges at first, nice in a way that is hard to read, sharp and to the point, and confident in a way that could be mistaken for aggression. The first time I met her, she was tough to gauge, like a guard was up but impossible to grasp. I thought she didn't like me...I thought everyone here didn't like me.<br />
<br />
Soon I discovered that we were not so different after all. Small, feisty things with lots of spunk and appetites for adventure. Natalie, it turns out, would become my friend, confidant and partner for yoga, sightseeing and tweenage-girl fun. With little effort her guard came down, genuine friendliness, warmth and generosity were what she was hiding. I was so glad to have her there, and in my moments of sadness, frustration and hunger, it was wonderful to have a friend.<br />
<br />
Just like everything though, eventually you find a pattern, you find a rhythm, you find comfort in what was once unbearably uncomfortable. I was given plenty of time off to explore the island. I had access to a platform with a beautiful view of the island to lay out my mat and practice daily. I was given freedom to design fun little things for them and the equipment to pull it together. Eventually both owners warmed up to me a bit and saw the value in the work that I was producing...however there was always a shortage of food for the staff. After a while it became a bitter joke between Natalie and I, we were on the Galapagos Safari Camp diet...and my pants fit a bit looser than they had in quite some time.<br />
<br />
Sure I still missed Justin and my family. Sure I wished that my experience there overall had been different, friendlier with more food...but I wasn't desperate to leave like the first days. Time started to move at a regular pace as I lost myself in work, yoga and nightly movies with Natalie. Before too long I was given extended time off to explore some of the other islands, and for once, it actually felt like I was on the Galapagos. When my island hopping finished, I was sad to go back to GSC dreading all the drama and stress that seemed to plague the place.<br />
<br />
But wouldn't you know, it wasn't sooo bad. I actually felt welcomed back, like somehow I'd managed to get liked and missed. I only had a week to go before I would be flying back to the continent and a fair amount of work that I promised Katrien I would finish, but that wasn't it...this environment had changed. Even this strange, orginally unwelcoming place had become my temporary home and the hostile hosts had softened enough to be...well...not close family, but cousins at least. Natalie was there with open arms and a pile of movies, my one true friend here, my Galapagos sister.<br />
<br />
I never had to call my parents with tears in my eyes, even though at first I longed to go home. I mulled over the idea of quitting and realized that if I left early, my dad was still right, after 6 years, I never would forgive myself. I stared that initial homesickness in the face and it stared right back...for 4 long days we battled and won. I said my quiet prayers for comfort, for solace, for peace...to recognize the incredible opportunity that I was still being given. I wanted this and I knew that a part of this journey would not be what I expected and could be lonely. I attempted to be grateful until it wasn't so hard to realize that, yes, I DO in fact have a lot to be grateful for. My life, my existence, my experience right now, is a lot like this island - something truly different, something spectacular, one small speck in a big old world.Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8527307913902757135.post-39177095030573173972012-05-13T16:57:00.001-07:002012-05-13T16:57:29.546-07:00Galapagos - Santa Cruz Island<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192246796/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="Snack Pack on the flight" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7231/7192246796_22704e9ece_s.jpg" alt="Snack Pack on the flight" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192246146/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="Galapagos Safari Camp, lobby" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7073/7192246146_d036caf4ff_s.jpg" alt="Galapagos Safari Camp, lobby" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192243228/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="Galapagos Safari Camp, Luxury camping" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7088/7192243228_976958991d_s.jpg" alt="Galapagos Safari Camp, Luxury camping" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192077292/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="glamping" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5076/7192077292_3892a59c9d_s.jpg" alt="glamping" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192184614/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="a common occurance" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7104/7192184614_ce67d493db_s.jpg" alt="a common occurance" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192245174/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="Beta, the house dog" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5193/7192245174_c8e3eab8fd_s.jpg" alt="Beta, the house dog" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192139194/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="chicks on the farm" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7229/7192139194_6ce5c4b8ca_s.jpg" alt="chicks on the farm" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192242098/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="GSC sunset" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7219/7192242098_7665831241_s.jpg" alt="GSC sunset" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192094760/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="galapagos dove" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8149/7192094760_35275954e2_s.jpg" alt="galapagos dove" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192242774/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="moonrise over my yoga platform" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8154/7192242774_f3a077e535_s.jpg" alt="moonrise over my yoga platform" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192233424/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="giant land tortoise" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5279/7192233424_fb3372f7ea_s.jpg" alt="giant land tortoise" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192069584/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="natalie with our local turtle" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7089/7192069584_3060433a3d_s.jpg" alt="natalie with our local turtle" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192052850/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="our local buddy" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5235/7192052850_2767b330c6_s.jpg" alt="our local buddy" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192035718/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="hands on a land tortoise" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7214/7192035718_573927b70c_s.jpg" alt="hands on a land tortoise" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192199790/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="cute little fellow" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7231/7192199790_fa3f2ffd54_s.jpg" alt="cute little fellow" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192194680/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="the walk to torguga bay" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7099/7192194680_5c258817a3_s.jpg" alt="the walk to torguga bay" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192206320/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="silly cactus tree" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7230/7192206320_7ba8514f31_s.jpg" alt="silly cactus tree" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192157212/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="Tortuga Bay" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7077/7192157212_96a311a792_s.jpg" alt="Tortuga Bay" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192170000/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="Pelican" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7214/7192170000_51c24d0709_s.jpg" alt="Pelican" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192241506/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="Santa Cruz, Galapagos" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5335/7192241506_fb4867d89a_s.jpg" alt="Santa Cruz, Galapagos" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192209654/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="lazy, very lazy marine iguanas" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7231/7192209654_5cfed0d4b5_s.jpg" alt="lazy, very lazy marine iguanas" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192240668/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="Marine Iguana" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7084/7192240668_48f67825e4_s.jpg" alt="Marine Iguana" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192231460/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="Tortuga Bay" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7099/7192231460_92d18ebb1a_s.jpg" alt="Tortuga Bay" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/7192158484/in/set-72157629715400850/" title="GSC volunteer girls" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5114/7192158484_e5d4138f8e_s.jpg" alt="GSC volunteer girls" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/67758614@N08/sets/72157629715400850/">Galapagos - Santa Cruz Island</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>nearly a month on this island...and the adventures that unfolded. Pictures are compliments of iPOD and Natalie's iPHONE. I lost my camera the first week here. :(</p>Claudia Saundershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03110323841734818350noreply@blogger.com0