Safe travels. Risky travels. They go beyond the hikes, treks, finances and living outside of my home country, away from some creature comforts and to what I am accustomed.
There is more. There is the extension of social risks as well as psychological and emotional vulnerability connecting with people, being accepted and being culturally cognizant. Also notable is the overarching need to be accepting of myself – ourselves.
Travel seems to naturally set the tone for possibilities and the result is both scary and fascinating. When I travel, I am reminded how much I can experiment and now I am acclimating between tourist, (former volunteer), and resident, while also working.
Therefore, I find myself out here as quite readily the walking contradiction – a people-person who enjoys being introverted, enjoys hanging out with other travelers and local people while also solo traveling.
I knew I wanted to get back to this. I am welcoming change, taking the more social and personal risks, while also understanding I need my introversion and comfort. Touring plus working plus grocery shopping is more my new normal.
In the vulnerability, there is also the promise of greater confidence and a healthy mindset, and in my case, substantial healing.
As I shift to find my best balance, some days are more innate, and I easily get lost in the experience of all my surroundings and connecting with others. On other days, no matter how much I am a patron, dining and enjoying or maybe just feeling awkward and doing similar, I still have that feeling of how it would play out nicely with another person or a few people, (as it has). Interestingly, this also makes me realize how much I appreciate my solo time exploring as well. As I noted in How To Go, being willing to experiment with and without people adds to my choices. I could not say then or now that I would or will always feel encouraged, but just ever aware that I am free and capable to try a lot more.
Surprising clarity about my preference for living in Peru strikes me repeatedly. It hits in different ways. Beginning as a feeling of belonging when I first stayed for months in parts of 2010 and 2011, staying with me when I returned to the US, played with when I revisited in 2019 and here again as I experience the main city instead of the others I was in before.
I could live elsewhere, yet the current decision has seemed to narrow down to choosing between Lima and Cusco. I picture myself enjoying both long-term. The key may mean trying both again, but this time, just as a digital nomad rather than a volunteer.
I was trying to consider Mexico. I enjoyed Merida, but perhaps more to visit. I enjoyed Oaxaca, yet my mindset was very much wrapped around touring and relaxing there. I was momentarily considering relocating to other Mexican cities (not Guadalajara) as well, but being back in Peru has reiterated my initial desires of living here.
With further thought: This also does not have to be final, but very possibly some part of my final choices (living in 1 or more countries, including the US).
I am reminded I can change my mind. I can also still try what I am drawn to, what I was dreaming of, mark one experience off the list, fine tune this one or the next one, or set it aside altogether.
Experimenting brings some fear but less daunting vibes, knowing I have been here before and even what I have not done is just a compass for what to try.
Since Guadalajara was tepid to cold, I appreciate having Merida before and Oaxaca after, all the much more.
There is the possibility I had situated myself in the wrong Guadalajaran neighborhood in a mismatched hostel. There is the possibility I was there at the wrong time with standoffish co-guests and staff. They seemed friendlier to one another. Fortunately, I had not experienced such a feeling before nor have I experienced similar, following this one, save a few people who don’t click or clash within the transient groups.
There were the intermittent nice people in the city, but the overall feeling of being in the way, while doing what anyone else was doing, seemed to be a running theme. I had to suddenly realize how my usual experience abroad had spoiled me with kindness, warmth, and excitement. Other places were not without awkward or tense times. Those times were just so far from the norm.
Nice encounters could certainly be nice throughout my visit to Guadalajara, but I still missed some typical courtesies, which I extend as well in my interactions. I am glad Oaxaca reiterated my good and even flattering experiences in Mexico and that Peru is cementing my affection and joy of continuing my travels.
Was this Guadalajara or the city-particular reception to me or just a coincidence to the spaces in which I found myself. Maybe? There were moments I even felt like some of the truly kind people looked somewhat concerned or particularly attentive to me.
I acknowledged my excited expectations had finally waned and coupling my accommodations with a final hotel stay gave me some needed reprieve, for I could hibernate for a day, doing what I wanted to do indoors plus the staff was friendly. I picked up my personal city walk a day later. I opted out of the Tlaquepaque and the Tequila train tour to put money towards my next good times. I am open to doing both later.
I was momentarily concerned that my own energy would shift into a single bitterness. I am eternally grateful for Merida, Oaxaca, and Lima currently. (I may revisit Cusco and the Ica region of Peru again soon).
I do not want to judge or accept only one 7-day stay as my final impression of Guadalajara so I will leave this here and enjoy the time I have traveling now, while continuing to be thankful for all I have been able to do, including the tough lessons learned along with the beauty of the places and the pleasant people who continue to dwell there.
So much to say but mainly speaking to the energy, I sit in my recent visit to Oaxaca city of Oaxaca state, Mexico. I was mainly swept away by the city’s presence and the immense welcome I encountered.
Primarily, I was bracing myself after not such a great stay in Guadalajara, which followed a great experience in Merida (which no doubt had its obstacles but was overall pleasant).
Now, I am glad that reversing the flight order and visiting Guadalajara first made more sense. Based on the flights available, this was the best choice and my overall Mexican stop ended up being sweeter, having Merida as a soft opening, and Oaxaca close the curtain. Guadalajara was a harsh note. Just the same I would not trade the days. I learned some lessons there.
Oaxaca, how insistent was it that I fall in love and right away, third city of this tour-go-round: my heart was captured within minor seconds. The city, locals and other visitors held me close until the end, and in parting ways, there was another insistence for me to come back and share you again and again.
OAX – International Airport – I got here fairly early and in all added fairness, even GDL could redeem itself via its outgoing flight from here (Guadalajara, sorry I will limit my experience to the few neighborhoods I was in and try you again later though I have to admit I’m not very tempted … maybe later).
Well, right away, the friendliness at Oaxaca Airport transported me back to the accommodation and encompassing hospitable feelings I found throughout my stay in Merida. The taxi from the airport did not feel so unfamiliar. Flirtation from an Uber and/or Taxi Driver has not been too unusual in and out of the States. Flattering? Sure. Yet, to be self-assured, I typically have a “boyfriend”. However I am open to dating and new friendships so I discern through the vibes of situations (not that this always goes well). The Oaxacan taxi driver’s interaction felt sweet in between ideas and notes about his city.
Hotel – It was simpler than the one I booked in Guadalajara (better still). Morning began with a complementary Mexican breakfast and a pleasant staff. “I love your hair” (in Spanish) was one of the first greetings I received as I sat down to enjoy the view and food. The place became more like a cozy apartment throughout each of my 4 Oaxacan days. It was funny to realize the first day, I had actually walked the opposite way of the Zocalo and rest of the city’s historical center after dropping off my bags and wandering away to eat up time before my 3pm check-in. After all, my hotel was conveniently located near the Zocalo area.
I tentatively spontaneously had a walking tour planned (if I could find the meeting point) so the main goal was a veggie place before or following a tour and as I explored, I found a city bus tour company instead. I inquired inside and found out it was just 100 pesos, but the company associate also informed me the next tour would not be until 6 pm and she would have to have a certain number of people. Understandable. She asked for my number and said she would give me a call if it was still going to take place. I had some time before then, so I decided I would go ahead and look for the vegetarian-recommended restaurant.
On my way there, I saw a Oaxacan homemade chocolate store (making a note to myself to visit later) ). I had been a little lost, but I recently learned a way not to get so turned when this happens like I did in Merida. (I can attribute this new-found knowledge to my time in Guadalajara).
Now, let’s just have a moment for my meal. My veggie taquitos smothered in jamaica (ha-ma-e-ka) were mouthwatering before and after (I dreamed of them later and I dream of them now😊). I dined in but took the vegan mousse to go. I knew the place was going to be eclectic, and the best ones seem to also include a reading material area. This one had a reading and children’s play area. You immediately get the familiar abroad feeling of being able to relax and enjoy your meal before and after – there was not going to be any rush to turn over my table for another customer. There was space and time to savor. The restaurant is Calabacitas Tiernas.
Still taking my sweet time after I left, I strolled back by the chocolate store while noticing I had a missed WhatsApp call. I correctly assumed it was the tour company. I was touched she had taken the time to update me. I was convinced I wouldn’t make it back in time (it was already almost 6 – I pictured the bus leaving) so I visited the chocolate shop Villa Real. There were artisan objects to buy as well as well as a natural multitude of chocolate treats. The storekeeper offered me a chocolate tasting to which I, of course agreed. Easily. He was skilled at this, offering them to me in varying degrees of bitterness and giving me a chaser after the last one so I wouldn’t be left with a bitter taste in my mouth. (I a deliciously so glad I made it there).
I bought my favorite chocolate from the tasting. He chuckled before we began the taste testing when I told him I like all chocolate types. He had given me history and experience. I asked to take photos and gave him a tip because I really felt he didn’t have to do any of this. I thought I would just be exploring the precious store on my own. He didn’t have to do this, nor did he expect the tip.
I started the walk back in the direction of where I thought the tour bus station was located. It was easy to find. I expected nothing but as soon as I popped my head in, the tour associate began preparing my ticket. Although it was about 5 minutes after 6, the bus had not taken off yet. Several ladies (who I later found out were visiting there from Chiapas), were sitting behind me as she took my pesos and printed my ticket. One of them inquired if I was single and/or traveling alone, solita -(affectionate alone). For some reason, instead of my usual “yes” in Spanish, I answered “For now” in Spanish, to which she and I started laughing. She relayed the message to her friends and said the same was true for all of them.
The Oaxacan tour guide was so thorough including the instructions to intermittently duck, as we were in the top of a double decker and some of the tree branches dipped low. I thought that was clever how he inserted the warnings, between the details of the history, gastronomy, buildings and neighborhoods passes us by. Every moment was in Spanish. We stopped at a hielo stand and encountered another docked tour bus that was notably English tour-guided only. Apparently, the hielo-stand stop was baked into the tours so we could try this local treat. I said hi to my fellow country people already in line (well, they were hardly in line), but I graciously let them make up their minds and gather themselves together (after all, they were there first).
Recommended independent coffee shop in Oaxaca: Marito&Moglie’s Cafe. While I do go to Starbucks quite often due to the freelancer-work-conducive vibe, I like a local indy coffee shop that also contains books, art, history and no doubt: inspiration. For guidance, I completely lifted the Marito&Moglie’s recommendation from Google Pictures and ratings. If I was there longer, I would also try others. I took my laptop, ordered my mocha. Familiarity cushioning new experiences. There is certainly a feeling that accompanies finding a specific treasure.
There is another feeling that matches stumbling upon a treasure: I stumbled into CANTINITA and tried not to stumble out of it. 😉
I knew I wanted to enjoy a drink at the bar. I thought it would be a margarita, but suddenly Mexico and specifically Oaxaca’s other libation seemed most appropriate. Cantanita and its mezcal focus was ideal. I went to the bar and was greeted by a very tall bartender who I later found moved from another Mexican city and state to Oaxaca city of Oaxaca state. I ordered the ensemble of agaves which I did not know much about – which was served with a shot glass serving of water. He poured that first. The mezcal is strong. I enjoyed the moments, taking it in, tasting the special distilled mix. I felt so calm, invited in by the other patrons who welcomed me in. I followed up with the non-alcoholic kombucha. The bartender and I chatted. He gave me a token for a free shot later that night when there would be live music. Naturally this must be redeemed in a few hours. I knew I would be leaving soon.
I searched for a specific library on another day (I like to visit a local public one). This relates to my first hobby as a human, new to Earth. I am transported back to my childhood fascination with reading and my original home state of Ohio. I’m transported to the days I frequented the library and escaped. I am immersed in the creativity and community which readily emanates and like the chocolate tienda, a local gentleman gave me an impromptu tour. He and other Oaxacan students had been a part of a program that studied in the US, and he was working here now. We were in the room of resources for children with disabilities. He also showed me some English language resources. I wandered to explore some more before heading out, we discussed cultural aspects of our respective countries, and I thanked him before heading out.
I was fortunate my short visit also featured some free local performances in the main center. I did not stay for their entirety, but the energy and excitement exchanged between the artists and the crowd encapsulated the almost indescribable uplifting spirit of being in Oaxaca itself. People, art, spirituality, music, food, drinks. Hope to meet these moments again. Thank you, dear Oaxaca. Dear Oaxacans, Thank you.
I deferred to Starbucks at first and Starbucks can be easy because it is set up to a certain ambience and convenience but I also like if I can get the same convenience and comfort at a local coffee shop (I like cafe mocha and hot chocolate especially-shameless aside: I got that convenience today when I started my day at “The Coffee Legacy”, instead, right across the street from Starbucks. (They know what they’re doing with that location.
I was unfortunately not getting the most excitable vibes from my first neighborhood experience here in Guadalajara so I am so happy that I stumbled across a nicer more welcoming picturesque neighborhood, more like Merida today, doing more of what I like and more of what I am used to and it makes sense that it was going past a cute little local bookstore, major parks, a commercial center, Asian restaurants, Mexican restaurants and American restaurants. I feel so much more satiated today and a lot of it has to do with the combination of being more welcomed, being accepted, and being appreciated for my differences and the joy of getting to be a guest here. I have many pictures to share but deferring to yesterday’s explanation, due to my computer problems, I am going to stop here and let you know again how much I appreciate you letting me share with you.
I went on to Guadalajara instead of Oaxaca first and now I can’t tell if I am seeing Guadalajara through the opposite of rose-colored glasses because I had so many immediate visions of what it would be like to be in Oaxaca seeing as it has been described as such a mecca of brilliant cuisine and artistry. There was this in addition to seeing the reminiscent expressions or longing looks on people’s faces when I mentioned I wanted to go there after Merida. Oaxaca will be third now. I think.
I am interested in Guadalajara as well, but I am not as in touch with what I might like to explore. I have some general ideas. Nothing written in stone. I just arrived yesterday from my layover administrative trip to Houston which also gave me something extra to wonder about, like why did that feel like another type of needed vacation in addition to the week in which my computers were out of commission in Merida. No computers meant I could actually just focus on hanging out with people, sight seeing, leisure time and my self-reflections there. Houston was a different break.
I have to stop here for a bit reluctantly, only because my computer issues persist and I want to be able to freely share a lot more details. I will add another post tomorrow and following another electronics purchase, I will add to these blogs. Thank you for bearing with me and sticking with me. I always look forward to sharing with you.
In my last post, I wrote about a lot of random incidences, circumstances in which I had to work around. So…
I checked into a boutique hotel for the day.
There was enough of dealing with mulling things over in my head for the moment.
I knew I needed the break from thinking and a taste of more luxury than a lot of Airbnbs could offer me. I also needed a break from some truly nice hostels. The mental break was needed and it is not the first time I have decided to do so. That is all I have to say about that. . .
. . . well except it was a mini vacation from too much regular work and a vacation from the work of life
Also, this was a ready reminder of the particular kinds of things I may need, (which perhaps could be a lot of what we all need). My needs include regrouping and revisiting my thoughts. At times, I require a particular kind of rest, focus, stillness, reorganizing, only talking to people who make me feel supported and vice versa and the potential to earn a living at a nicer less-demanding pace.
Being in a private AirBnB for a couple of weeks currently is what I need and have now.
Hostels have been a great budget-friendly choice for me as well. They typically have a built-in friendly community and activity vibe but are not always the most conducive to completing projects are growing side gigs.
Each accommodation type seems to showcase a variety of perks and limitations, depending on one’s needs and preferences and so far I have found I can be uplifted or face obstacles in each. I do not like to be too alone but sometimes I really need some space.
I like saving money but I also don’t mind the elements of luxury. It probably speaks well to my nomadic movement and of course has a lot to do with how well I project my budget and advocate for my owed compensation. Finally, a lot just informs me of my own blueprint and perhaps how I can inform others with their decisions.
Behind and all around me is the map of my supposed preferences and completely before me are the unwritten encounters that will shape me.
These March blogs come as a substitute for what I was originally going to present because I’m now working on an older computer (thankful for it, mind you!) while the laptop with all my notes for blogs and writing-inspired moments in general were saved on the aforementioned laptop in dire need of a charger replacement.
The charger needing to be replaced is almost comical in a series of ups and downs I have experienced while attempting to be an organized digital nomad, but truly it’s also another source of frustration or rather a reminder of frustrations and workarounds.
Not wanting to reorder a replacement card from one bank while I was in San Juan and just happening to lose it did not seem like such a big deal (I had my reasons). I thought it would be such a hassle not to have access to it and just came to rely on a second one for all things: payment, withdrawals, etc. That was all fine and good until I attempted to do a mobile deposit but then suddenly, the powers that be of the other bank decides, nope, we are just going to close this account altogether due to “suspicious activities” (Luckily I am now skilled at sending myself money).
It is no joke that as a long-term traveler, one can definitely be hit with the workarounds, so amongst all the pretty pictures and all the ups, there is also the not-so stellar heavy-bag-toting, sweating, thirsty, muscle-aching days.
Therefore, bear with me people. Love you and love that you have been sticking with me through it all, even when it was just a dream of revisiting Peru for a third time.
I will be writing another March happenstance post very soon, again – not what I planned…. But so much of what I had is unplanning itself …. Sometimes even surprisingly well. Self-guided cash pickups. Who knew? Thankfully. You.
I like how rare this is. We only get one leap day every four years, and I am reminded I have reignited the plunge I sparked in 2010. I am reminded I have the capacity to do what is unique and strange again. Like many friends (bus, train and flight-bound), I have been nervous along the way but as I noted: My expectations and inspiration far outweigh any doubt I easily identify as a potential obstacle growing into regret.
Everyday, I am reminded I am different in a country not my own. In the country that was my own, the difference began to meet rejection early on. Fair moments, revelations and acceptance could do their work, yet fall short of those experiences which shape our formative years.
Now abroad in Mexico, somehow, the difference seems more welcome, reminding me of affectionate conversations and quality time I had during Pisco Sin Fronteras (Pisco Without Borders). Looking very different from the other Westerners that went to Peru to volunteer then, I wanted to be a part of improving infrastructure after a natural disaster and be someone who shared experiences with people who worked along with us and could face the same judgments I could.
As I wrote of a new life that is healing to me, I sometimes feel like a casual liaison between home and new international places who can be friendly and say a lot or not much at all. I get to be a person who is free, friendly, pensive, outgoing and reserved.
I am consistently aware of how different I am. Only this time, the difference isn’t as daunting as having to be in a space where I could be instantly judged poorly on any micro or macro level or feel expected to represent a variety of people despite my own independent ideas and presence.
This time, being as different as I naturally am feels welcomed abroad by local people, new residents and other visitors like me. Affection and innocent curiosity is exchanged for the microscope (though this can still appear). The boxes to be fitted in don’t remain so close as they used to be. Many of us have already chosen something so left of the norm. Abnormal becomes the usual.
I know there is no perfection. I know both being welcomed and unwelcomed exist in all our spaces, but there is such a stark contrast between first worrying I could easily not find homes away from my native home yet managing to stumble upon comfort again and again.
Today was an unplanned continuation of my birthday (February 27th). It was not even meant for my birthday but truly could have been because of the celebration of my new life and our lives overall. Whereas I spent last night with my good friend, today, we, together spent the majority of today with 5 more like-minded individuals. How it all happened that we traveled here to Merida solo, with past and future stories of continuing travels and all met eventually today in one spot near the Art gallery exhibition for Afro/African American Cuban Art and stumbled upon an eclectic coffee shop, ordering beverages and chatting some more, parting ways respectively to meet again and visited our very familiar Cuban restaurant with a resident artist and lastly ended at a Vegan restaurant that has improved even more since I got here in December. How it happened. That is just life. Knowing some of the ladies for a while from here, meeting perfect strangers and instantly connecting and shaking off the stresses that came from everyday work in the States. That is just life.
I am still working but more fulfilled. I am pleased I made it here before my birthday, knowing I could have done little or next to nothing and still felt the joy of getting to this sanctuary in which I am readily reminded that I am already in one of my vacation spots when I get done with each project.
Tomorrow = more work. Tomorrow also = rest, rejuvenation and possibly more exploration. Tomorrow may also just = way more ease in being still, surrounded by art and history and performance, events both seemingly random and anticipated. Tomorrow quite possibly just means more of finding out what makes me comfortable in everyday surroundings and unexpected excitement.
