Thanks Jack.

My new addition

2011-01-04T20:53:00.001-08:00

Purdy aint she?

I think I ate the bad mushrooms

2011-01-04T20:25:00.000-08:00

That's the only rational explanation I have for what I've just gone through. The most amazing year of my life. The most amazing things my eyes have ever seen. The most amazing people. All this year, and completely all unbelievable.

As soon as the wheels touched US soil the disbelief set in. Had I truly traveled around the world for an entire year? Was that me trampsing through cow shit in the middle of Delhi? Or was it all a dream? A hallucination? Had I really done it?

Everything at home looks and feels the same. It's hard to wrap my mind around.

This is my last trip blog, the one about coming home. I know or at least thought this one would be a long essay about the things I learned on my year abroad and the person I have become, but all of that is too cloudy right now. Too hard to make sense of. I think I'll notice the changes piece by piece, little by little each day. As for the essay, I guess I just don't have the words.

what I will do is thank everyone who made this year possible.

First off Sabrina. Without you I would have never made it out of Los Angeles. You were the absolute perfect person to travel with, my best friend and the woman I love. Everyday, even the days I awoke to you peeing in the sink above my head, were the best days of my life. You not only showed me that I can truly love another person you also taught me how to love my life. You're amazing.

Thanks to all the people I met along the way. Even if I never see you again you have changed my life forever. You've opened my eyes to the world and reignited my imagination. Dave, Nelly, Cameron, Mikey, Meredith, Geoffrey, Kirstie and Hannah there's not a chance in this world we dont see each other again.

Thanks to the kindness of strangers. Especially Hillary, Hugh, Alexandra, John, and Anne. You made us feel like family when we were thousands of miles away from our own.

Thank you to Sabrina's Egyptian family. You welcomed us to Egypt with open arms and truly made our trip one we will always remember.

Thanks to all the folks at Secret Weapon for making the trip possible in the first place. Dick, Leah, Cam, Pat, and of course Jack (sorry about that whole bird chewing your face thing.)

Thanks to my family for missing me while I was gone. It made me feel purdy special.

Lastly thanks to God. (this is not my Emmy acceptance speech), but instead something that means alot to me. I asked God to protect us during our trip, to keep my heart burning with curiosity for the world, to keep my eyes open to all it's wonder. He never let me down for a second. I felt his presence in every step I took.

There's no way I can express what this year was like, I can only know for certain that this is the path I want to continue to walk down. There's so much of the world left to see. I plan on seeing as much as I can.

So I'll keep writing about it and hopefully you'll keep reading.

whats the deal with people stealing shoes

2010-12-18T14:36:00.000-08:00

whilest surfing the other day I buried my $5 walgreens flippity flops in the sand. After wowing everyone on the beach with my surfing skills I headed back to collect my flops.

Gone.

Just like my sneakers a week before.

Now Im walking around literally shoeless throughout New Zealand. No shoes.

I hope whoever stole my flip flops gets ring worm.

Anyone seen my shoes?

2010-12-04T21:46:00.001-08:00

After 11 months on the road, literally walking through cow shit, foreign sidewalks, beaches, Macchu Picchu, salt flats, Hindu Temples, caves, glaciers, and the like...I have lost my shoes.

I'm heart broken.

I literally was going to frame them when I got home.

The van we are living in has a wonderful storage area under our bed. Perfect for throwing your shoes into when youre done for the day..if it had the net I wanted to install which would have kept said shoes from falling out of the van.

They fell out somewhere in the South Island of New Zealand.

The only thing keeping me from cutting my feet of is the idea Sabrina put into my head. She said "the shoes probably realized the trip was near its end and they decided they weren't done traveling. So they left."

I can get down with that. Good luck shoes wherever your travels may take you.

This one is for me, so I never forget

2010-12-04T21:43:00.000-08:00

to not count your John Grudens before they hatch.

Bah Humbug

2010-12-04T18:20:00.000-08:00

We're having a bad day today. Just kinda beat down from traveling. You know being on the road for 12 months and all. We're in Wellington, which is a spitting image of San Francisco (seriously they're like carbon copies) and I think it's making us a little home sick. Factor that in with the fact that most every New Zealander we meet is a complete uber asshole and we've decided to take our frustrations out on the following list. We do not mean to offend we just mean to get things off our chest.

Here are the things we've learned to hate (if only temporarily) in a year of traveling.

- people speaking with an accent
- looking at maps
- people. in general.
- foreigners
- wearing the same clothes every day
- walking around cities in flip flops because your shoes disappeared
- having to figure out where you are going to sleep every single night
- New Zealanders. SERIOUSLY.
- guitars
- having a headache
- losing my sunglasses
- people who don't understand the concept of personal space
- having to pay for a shower
- having to pay for internet
- the phrase, "what do you want to do"
- the phrase "i dont know what do you want to do."
- having to charge things daily because your batteries last 15 minutes.
- "sweet as"
- having the same conversation over and over again.
- being hungover
- not being drunk
- not being able to chill out
- not having our own space to chill out in
- people saying "blah blah blah when you get back to the real world blah blah blah"
- people honking at you when they pass as if youre not driving the speed limit.
- new zealnd radio stations
- john gruden, the miami hurricanes, the miami heat, jacory harris, and the entire national sports media
- losing the car keys
- losing the luggage locks
- losing my hair bands
- losing my ATM card
- losing the electric converter
- losing the phone charger
- losing the internet usb
- finding foreign currency we forgot to exchange
- looking for free wi-fi
- 10 am check outs
- money
- snotty hostel owners who look at us like were homeless because we sleep in van (by choice)
- the thought of getting a job again
- Ke$ha and the fact she spells her name with a dollar sign.
- facebook status updates
- waiting for pictures to upload
- counting megabytes
- not wanting to travel but not wanting to go home
- being fat
- being out of shape
- being constipated
- having the shits
- mosquito and sandfly bites that itch so bad you can't sleep at night
- overpriced adventure activities
- overpriced gas
- overpriced beer
- peeing in a bottle (the novelty has worn off)
- I would say 'peeing in the sink', but that would require me to admit that I pee in the camper van sink.
- meeting people everyday you'll probably never see again
- carrying a fucking backpack everywhere i go
- feeling like you cant afford anything, and always having to buy it anyway
- lonely planets
- being the new person in a hostel and having every upity ass traveler look at you like you have leprocy.
- having to listen to how many countries dude with a guitar and girl with dreadlocks has traveled to.
- meeting americans who make you hate america

Nov 19 2010

2010-11-25T23:15:00.000-08:00

I'm a bad parent. This is what happens when you leave your Jack attena ball unattended. Killer birds descend from the heavens and make him their lunch.

Sorry Jack.

Nov 19 2010

2010-11-23T17:48:00.000-08:00

I feel like I'm on another planet. Or maybe I'm dead. Or maybe I ate a really strong mushroom on one of our walks through the forest. It has to be something, because there is no way that these places I'm visiting exist. There's no way this is the same planet that shares space with New Jersey. No freaking way. My mind has packed up it's bags and said 'Ill see you when you get back to reality'. My eyes explode every 3 seconds. I've never felt more alive in my life.

This place is insane. There are no words to describe how beautiful it is, so i'll invent one. Redombulous. This place is absolutely redombulous. I want to throw my camera into one of these gorgeous waterfalls because my camera is an earthly camera and does not come equipped with the magic technology needed to capture these sites as they are. Ive never seen sky so clear. Never seen blues so blue or yellow so yellow. I think Ive probably seen 10 new colors I didn't know existed. The water here is crystal clear...EVERYWHERE. Whether its falling from the sky, a 3000 foot waterfall, or running alongside your campsite in the middle of town. Crystal clear! The hills go on forever and ever and ever. Every rock face looks like it was placed for a specific reason. Theres no way this place happened by accident. I said to Sabrina the other day that 'if god created the earth, he designed New Zealand.' And I believe it. It fills me with this crazy pride Ive never had before for our planet. Seeing it as it is. As it was before we destroyed it. I like to envision this amazing thing flying through the vastness of space. It makes me laugh at the other planets. They completely suck compared to ours. Jupiter's atmosphere will kill you. You'll freeze to death on Saturn, and burn to pieces on Mercury. That blows. Somewhere out there I'm sure theres a planet that has flying cars and ray guns. They can have them, I'll take these magic waterfalls.

Nov 18 2010

2010-11-23T17:47:00.000-08:00

Been a few days since I put digital paper to pen, so here's my update for the last few days.

In that time we've seen insane cracks in the earth where ocean water rushes in through a small blow hole and crushes the surrounding rocks below. Insane. It's 300 meters off the beach. It shouldn't exist, I've never seen anything like it before. From bone crushing blow holes we ventured off to a rainforest that had one of the coolest waterfalls we've seen in a while. From there it was more mind blowingly gorgeous fields, beaches, mountains, and sky. This place seriously is the most amazing place I've ever seen.

Picked up our friend Morrison from LA, who has started his own little jaunt around the world. Then headed off to the small town of Invecargil. Went straight for the local microbrewery for a beer tasting. Seriously good stuff. After a few rounds of bowling we headed off for a pretty intereting and somewhat illegal night. Morrison has been sleeping in hostels while usually we park in the parking lot and sleep in the van. After checking into the hostel he realised that 1) he was only one of two people in an eight bed dorm and 2) reception closed after 8pm. Putting 1 and 2 together he figured we could just come into the hostel hangout, and then once reception closed move into his room for the night. Ingenious. After a couple hours of conversation and a few Do Bros to ease our fears of getting caught we decided to be rebels and sleep for free in the hostel! Next up for us grand larceny and kidnapping!!!

Fully refreshed from our illegal night in the hostel we set out for Lake Te Anau. Once again NZ didn't dissapoint. Really small town surrounding a lake with all the needed amenities. We spent half the day being acousted by a senial old man who felt the need to instruct us on where to place our chilly bins (thanks grandpa), what hikes to take and which ones not to (ie do the ones hes done and not the ones he hasnt because he knows everything), how to use this crazy thing called the internet, and other general annoyances. We were having ourselves a nice little drinking and music session until old man river came in and without a word unplugged our charging computer and turned on the tv to watch the news...over or music!!! We were dumbstruck. Some people can be so freaking rude.

We met another traveler from Oregon, but I like to think he was an angel. A weed angel. Not 30 minutes after he met us he GAVE us a huge bag of some of the best weed I've ever had. I thought we had died or that I was making a deal with the devil, trading him this bag of weed for the souls of all the children in Africa. But nope. Just straight up gave it to us. So what did we do in return? Got high as shit and went to see a movie. The movie was shot from a helicopter all over the south land. It shows the area in all its glory. Just mindblowing stuff. Magic waterfalls that dissapear 3000 feet up in the air, cliffs that fall off into raging seas, mountains that seem to pierce the sky, and lots and lots of empty land. Sabrina was moved. Either by the weed or the movie, she proclaimed it to be 10 times better than Planet Earth, and definitly worth buying. So we bought it. Now I just hope we don't run out of our wonder weed by the next time we watch it.

Noc 12 2010

2010-11-16T01:24:00.000-08:00

They say age is only a number. They also say you're only as old as you feel. Well after hanging out with the local collegiate population in Dunedin I'll say I'm pushing somewhere around 60. It's amazing how old you can feel when you're standing in a room full of kids nearly half your age.

It's funny for so long I was oblivious to how old I actually am. People would ask me what my age was and I was always wrong. For three years I thought I was 30. It wasn't denial, it's just that I never really thought about it. I didn't feel any different then I did when I was 13. I swear. I still laughed at the thought of me being responsible for another life form, be it a plant, dog, or child. I still felt like I could out drink anyone, until my hangovers kept me one step from the emergency room for the three days after.

That was how it was. Now...its starting to get a little different.

The thought of actually starting your night at 11pm is as foreign to me as walking on the moon. I think kids are super human that can do that. Me I need to be in bed by 11pm or be on some seriously hard drugs to make it past 11:30.

Most people are really annoying in bars. They're loud. They aren't funny. They're way too aggresive. It's just not my scene. I'd rather chill out at a local pub full of steamboat captains recounting their oceanic adventures or be sipping wine with my lady overlooking a park filled with frolicking puppies.

It's sad. In fact it's devastating. I blame most of it on Sabrina. She is constantly telling me how old I am. Pointing out my grey hairs or my grey pubes. I know it's all in fun, but in a wierd way it's brought age into my conciousness. I am begginning to now see myself for what I really am...a 33 year old. Yikes. Crows feet and all. I think I liked life a little more when I was oblivious.

Nov 11 2010

2010-11-16T01:23:00.001-08:00

I'm getting pretty good at bathing in freezing cold rivers.

I love when people are nice for no reason. Tonight we went to chill in some hot tubs. They're really cool Japanese style wood barrels. Real fancy like. Upon arrival the owner of the place upgraded us to the VIP suite life. Hot tub, lakeside view, and sauna. Didn't expect that to happen. In a place like NZ where everything you do is at least $50, it was nice to get a deal for once. We paid $60 for what should of cost $135. They say theres no price for kindness, I say there is...its about $75.

Nov 10 2010

2010-11-16T01:22:00.001-08:00

You know how they say New Zealand is the untouched version of Earth? No? Well they do. Ive heard them say it more than once. Anyhow. It is. And Mt cook and the surrounding areas are proof of that. Picturesque landscapes that are so insane they look photoshopped. Everywhere you turn greens brighter than any youve ever seen burn the cornia of your eyes. Blues so blue it makes you want to shove a crayola crayon into your brain. The colors are just jaw dropping.

This is the land of Lord of the Rings, and every single step you take feels like you're walking through a movie set. I can't explain exactly how beautiful this place is, but I will tell you if this is indeed middle earth I completely understand why those hobbits and wizards went after each other to defend it.

2010-11-07T20:45:00.000-08:00

This morning I took a bath in the absolutely frrezing waters of Lake Tekapo. I think my heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

Then I went on a hike up to the observatory where I was supposed to check out stars the night before. The hike was incredible. Some of the most gorgeous scenery I've ever seen. At the top I met a guy from Phoenix working at the observatory cafe. I noticed he was wearing a Phillips Exeter hat. I asked if he had gone to school there, and then proceeded to tell him why even though I got accepted to the school I chose not to attend ( something having to do with the student tour guide taking me to the campus bridge and informing me that the bridge is where most Exeter students went to kill themselves.). I chose Larenceville after that because it had no bridges.

The walk down from the observatory was unexplainable. Even though there was a designated path it felt like Sabrina and I were walking through fields completely alone. Exploring the earth as if we were the only people alive. Hills fell over each other all greener than the next. The water of Lake Tekapo a neon blue, that if you havent seen it with your own eyes you would never believe it existed. Spaces so open an untouched by man that I kept repeating, 'this is how the earth was before we ruined it.' Absolute perfection.

At around 9pm I left for my second attempt at star gazing. This one was a success and I found that where I had turned around the night before was literally steps from the office. I took the van ride up the mountain and arrived at the observatory in complete dark. The sky was full with more stars than I had ever seen before. I spent most of the night nerding it up with the head astronomer asking questions I'm sure my 8 year old nephew knows the answers to but which completely melt my brain out of my ears. Take for instance, did you know that the closest planet to us at this time of year is Jupiter? And if you took a flight in a commercial airliner to Jupiter it would take you 19 years? Did you also know there are more stars in the galaxy than grains of sand on the earth? Or that when we look at stars in the sky we are looking at them in the past because they are so far away from earth that the light take sometimes 10's of millions of years to get to earth? Some stars we see in the night sky might, at their actual source in the galaxy, not exist anymore. Isnt that fucking insane!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I learned alot about the galaxy, stars, and space last night but I think I learned alot more about myself. I a fucking huge dork...and I'm ok with that.

Day 4 Nov 6 2010

2010-11-07T20:43:00.000-08:00

Last night was quite a failure. I was supposed to hike 15 mintues down the main highway to the Earth and Sky office where I'd meet up with a bunch of other dorks to go star gazing. My bus was sxheduled to leave at 11:30pm (it stays light here until after 9pm). I stepped outside my van and instantly my foot was frozen. next my leg and then my entire body. It had to be about 139 degrees below zero outside. No joke.

Did I let that stop me? Sort of. I slowly walked down the road in the pitch dark, wondering if this was all worth it. I walked for what seemed an hour and probably was really only 15 minutes and decided I was freezing and lost. I turned around and went back to bed in my camper. I watched the stars outside my window while covered in a down blanket. To infinity and beyond!

Day 2 - Nov 5 2010

2010-11-06T01:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was gorgeous. Sun so bright it almost hurt to look at it.

Today its rainy and freezing.

But we have our new van! And it works! Brakes and all.

We head off from Christchurch at 11am. Make a bee line for our campsite 150 k away in Geraldine. Car drives great even in the downpour that lasts our entire drive.

We pull up to our campsite around 3pm. It's awesome. Towering hills surround the valley we camp in. A river runs alongside the entire camp ground. Sheep and cows cover the hills
. We pull up right next to the river. We're the only people in the campsite. We have all of New Zealand to ourselves.

Have I mentioned how awesome this is?

Day 1 - Nov 4 2010

2010-11-06T01:20:00.000-07:00

Left Christchurch today around 10am and headed for Akaroa.

1pm- stopped for our first meal. Pulled the van right up to the beach, popped some chairs in the sand, and ate lunch with huge smiles on our face. We laughed when we thought about our friends working. We're a bunch of assholes.

2pm- Had our first key loss panic attack. They were in the door.

2:05pm- almost ran over a cyclist. Driving on the left side of the road is going to take some getting used to.

2:10- took our first wrong turn. Had to go backwards down a one way street on the top of a mountain. No guard rails. 500000 feet drop off to sudden death.

4pm- 20k from where we started our trip, we have our first breakdown. Rear left wheel sounds like its grinding steel. We pull over and call road side assistance. We wait an hour, but waiting in a van with a bed and food sure beats waiting in a broken down car. This life aint so bad.

Road side assistance arrives, jacks up the van, pulls the tire off, and then the brake...a metal rod falls to the ground. Im no mechanic but I figure that aint good. Turns out one of the rods that holds the brake pads in alignment had broken off and was flipping around in the wheel as we drove. Sweet.

Needless to say Purple Lava needs to go back to the shop...in Christchurch...the place we just left from.

We load the van on the flat bed and head back into town.

Escape informs us that they will have a new van for us tomorrow morning. Tonight theyll be paying for our hotel, meals, and beers, and will be further discounting the already amazingly discounted price they intially gave us. They are heroes.
We check into a hotel we otherwise couldnt have afforded and head to sleep excited for the trip to begin...again.

Those guys living in their vans down on Venice beach arent homeless, they're geniuses!

2010-11-06T01:18:00.000-07:00

Our plan for New Zealand has always been to rent a camper van and travel the two islands for a few months. I figured we'd rent your traditional camper can, complete with bathroom, kitchen, tv, the whole nine. We probably would have done that if the people we were trying to rent said camper from weren't complete assholes. Always having a backup plan, Sabrina and I headed over to Esape campers. And the rest is history.

Escape is awesome. I mean from the second we walked into their Auckland warehouse we knew these were the campers we were going to be living out of for the next 2 months. I should say first off they arent really campers. Theyre vans. Retro fitted to be basic campers. The back seats have been removed and in its place sits a table and two couches that turn into a bed. The back is modified to contain a small burner, sink, and cabinet storage space. The van comes with all the fixins, like comforters, sheets, dishes, kitchen utensils, coolers, chairs, table, nav device, etc. Its pretty much the balls. Best of all, the outside has been totally repainted by some of Aucklands most talented graphitti artists! These vans simply rock.

Not only are the vans awesome, the people who rent the vans are awesome x 10. They were so welcoming. So accommodating and so incredibly helpful, that it makes you want to rent from them.

So after a few days of drinking and sight seeing we were off on our 2 month van tour of New Zealand. The following blog enteries will serve as the trip log. See ya!

Singapore I love you...

2010-11-06T01:17:00.000-07:00

But I can't afford you.

You're going to hate India

2010-10-16T05:10:00.000-07:00

At least thats what we were told. Stories of pollution, poverty, hardships, and crime were all that filled my head as we touched down in Dehli. Countless folks I had spoken to told stories of streets filled with legless beggers trying to get whatever they could from you. Streets packed with so many people you were forced to swim with the crowd where ever it was going. Neighborhoods filled with so much trash, human shit, and more trash that you feel like you're walking through the local dump. We heard countless times that India is the one place you will love and hate all in the same hour.

Well we got the loving part down...never really experienced the hate.

India is an amazing place. And while it is true that is dirty and your eyes do come across some sights youve never seen before, we found India to be one of the highlights of the trip.

More spiritiual than any place we've traveled, you get a sense here that even though most people live in levels a spitting distance from extreme poverty, they have a better understanding of whats truly important. Faith, kindness and love.

The people here are some of the kindest in the world. The Indian smile is not a myth. It exists and its joyfully plastered on nearly every persons face. For the most part people just want to meet you here. Take a picture with you to share with their friends back home. They want to talk with you. Maybe share some chai. After traveling for as long as we have you get pretty good at instantly assesing someones character. I can pretty much tell if you want to be my friend or if you want to steal my wallet. Indians (for the most part) are the former.

India is crowded, but no more so than Times Square or any part of Mozambique that we traveled through. The difference here is in the crowds there is calm. Makes a huge difference. Egytian crowds are insane. Indian crowds are just crowded.

There is poverty and sickness and disfigured people on nearly every corner, but soon enough it all just blends together. I almost don't even see it anymore. Maybe it's because we've been traveling for so long or maybe it's just because you see what you want to see.

I kept looking for the negative. Kept saying to myself 'I guess were just not traveling to the bad places.' But I've spent nearly two months here, traveled to almost 20 towns and experienced a lot. Stepped in cow and human shit daily. Shooed away countless beggers. Got sick off the food. Exposed countless scams. Sat in bumper to bumper trafffic. Sweat my balls off. And I loved every single minute of it.

I'm done with this whole reading thing.

2010-09-29T08:51:00.001-07:00

It's funny how wrong your imagination can be sometimes. Reading Shantaram I was filled with anticipation of the the day I'd walk through the doors of Leopolds. For those who havent read the book ( and you should ), Leopolds is the bar where the main characters of the book would meet, chat, divise crimes, drink until they couldn't see, etc. The way the author described it seemed mythical. My mind constructed marbled colums stretching to the sky. A wide main hall where the most dangerous men and women met daily to discuss the crime of the day. A floor of sand stained in sweat, blood, and tears. Above all I was certain that the bar was off the beaten path. Down some sketchy stretch of Indian alleyway where the chance of you making it out alive was at least no better than 30%. I was certain this was the real deal. A bar I was certainly not tough enough to visit. A place that would give me instant street cred. I had fantasies that I would sit down, order a drink, and start small talk with a local next to me who just so happens to be an international drug smuggler and was in the market for a fresh faced american to help him smuggle drugs and guns all over the world and share in the millions and millions of dollars that came with such work.

I could not have been further from the reality of Leopolds.

Be it the fame that the bar has gained from Shantaram or the 30 years that has passed since it was written, the bar more resembles a Hard Rock Cafe than a watering hole for India's most corrupt residents. The walls are plastered with Elvis paintings and 'What I really learned in college' beer posters. The floor is filled with more middle aged moms and dads on vacation then wild gun runners. The menu features Jalepeno Poppers. And perhaps worst of all I didn't have to put my life on the line navigating down a dark alley to get there. Nope. Leopolds is located on the main drag in Mumbai, directly across from a Benneton. I ask you, What's so dangerous about an overpriced plad pencil skirt?

Jack at the Taj

2010-09-27T01:20:00.000-07:00

Hitting the wall

2010-09-26T03:08:00.001-07:00

It was bound to happen. Traveling for this long will do that to you. I've reached maximum burnout. Every temple looks the same. Every church, fort, mountain, pile of cow poop, child, hostel, camel, etc looks exactly the same. I feel like I'm just floating through India right now, going from site to site with camera in hand collecting photos. I'm worried I'm losing perspective on the whole trip. I'm worried I've started to take things for granted.

So what to do?

I think the answer is not so much the travel as is where we have been traveling. For the most part Africa slums looks alot like Indian ones. City streets in Cairo look alot like those in Nairobi. Africa, India, and Egypt I think just might be too similar...and we've been in those places for almost 6 months. Thats a long time of seeing the same type of stuff.

We need a change. Need to renergize this trip. Go somewhere completely different from where we've been traveling. So instead of ending in New Zealand, we've decided to go there next! I'm really excited and think this is the punch in the arm this trip needs. We'll be trading slums, mud, trash, and poverty for picturesque mountains, white water rafting, wine tasting, and western luxuries.

This is the aspect of the trip I love most. We really live in a constant state of where do we want to go today? As long as there's money in the bank account, that question always has countless answers. Onward and upward!!!!

I could work at the Onion

2010-09-10T01:57:00.002-07:00

After years of having it up to there, Jan River of Boise Idaho, declares she's finally had it up to here.

German astronomer Slev Guten retires at the age of 72 after successfully counting all of his lucky stars.

French scientists optomistic the whirly bird will soon be removed from the endangered species list.

C+C Music Factory never sweat like this before.

2010-09-10T01:57:00.001-07:00

Holy mother of God. Kids put your swim suits on we're going for a walk around India. It's humid here. Like real humid. Is it possible for a place to be more than 100% humidity because i think Inidia might be checking in around 400%. We just got back from a leisurely stroll around Mandawa and we look as if we fell into a moat. Covered in sweat. I mean like so much so our skin has been replaced with sweat.

I grew up in Florida. Played baseball in the middle of the summer. Wore jeans all year long. So anytime anyone ever talks to me about humidty i laugh in their face and then punch them in the gut for good measure. I know humidity. I could write twelve soaked novels about it. Dont tell me about humidity because you dont know nothing and I dont like your tone. Unless of course if you're India, because the shit is so thick here you can almost walk on top of it.

I'm going to go dry off now.

Dear Egypt it's not me it's you.

2010-09-10T01:56:00.001-07:00

It may seem like I've been attacking Egypt alot so far in my blog and it would seem that way because its probably true. What started as a passionate love affair ended with me sneaking out the window while Egypt slept to try and find some strange. Now that I have a new country to compare Egypt to, the divide in our relationship is bound to grow even bigger.

I found myself always wondering where common sense was in Egypt. Why places that should be open were closed. Why people charged so much more for things then they should. Why people always took the long way to get some where, why no one stayed in their lanes while driving, why lanes didnt exist at all, why people held onto their babies while riding on the bakck of motorcycles without helmets. Nothing seemed to make sense. Common sense was no where to be found. In a city as modern as Cairo, it seemed like technology had evolved but that the people hadn't.

How would Inida compare? We had heard the horror stories. Inida is hell on earth. Hell on earth would actually be a 5 star hotel compared to India. Its beyond crowded. Its beyond dirty. Its beyond your wildest dreams/nightmares. After 4 days of stomping around in mud covered shit and weaving our way through the rain soaked population I can say that for the most part these advance warnings are pretty accurate. It is crowded. It's beyond dirty. It's heart wrenching at times. BUT. And I put this in all caps for a reason, despite the dirt, and the garbage, and the beggars, there lives a common courtesy and an adherence to reason that I am floored (and incredibly greatful) to see.

Stuff makes sense here, and more importantly, PEOPLE ARE NICE AND INCREDIBLY HELPFUL. People smile, even when walking in a downpour. They don't look at you like you're an alien. They dont give you the impression that they want you out of their country. They are welcoming. They are kind. They are calm. They are quiet. I think they realize that life can be lived without screaming, or yelling, or panicing. It's a welcome change from the madness that was Cairo.

Who knows maybe a few weeks in India will make me feel the same way, but as for now I'm just soaking up the good stuff and excited to see what this country has in store.

2010-09-10T01:55:00.000-07:00

How is it in the age of so much readily accessable information the world is more misinformed than ever before?

Thank God the wait is over

2010-09-02T09:24:00.000-07:00

IT'S HURRICANE SEASON BITCHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Keep on moving

2010-09-02T09:23:00.001-07:00

We've realized that staying in motion is essential. On a trip this long you have to keep moving. Stay in some place to long and the luster begins to wear off. You start to see that most places are like any place. Same probems. Same annoyances. Same boring Mondays.

Keep moving, and everyday is like Christmas morning.

Mini skirts and 3000 year old temples

2010-09-02T09:22:00.000-07:00

People are utterly clueless. That's what I've learned so far on this trip. Clueless or Oblivious. You choose.

Take for instance the tourist who shows up to hike Mt Sinai at 3 in the morning dressed as if she about to stroll around the mall for a few hours. Purse. Check. Fashionable flip flops. Check. Make up. Check. Lack of any clue what so ever. Double check.

Or my favorite. The foreign tourist strolling through the streets, mosques, pyramids, and ruins of egypt wearing nothing more then a bikini top and a micro mini skirt. Paris Hilton attitude. Check. Over sized sunglasses. Check. Mini skirt that shows of your ass clevage. Check. Bikini top barely holding in your surgically enhanced tits. Check. Make up. Check.

It blows me a way that not once do these people think about THE COUNTRY THEY ARE VISITING! They are guests! In someone else's country, and in a place as conservative and religious as Egypt, you might want to open your $50 guide book and learn a little about it before you step off the tour bus.

It just makes me realize how, for the most part, people of the world are oblivious to one another. That makes me sad... but so do homeless kittens with teary eyes.

A typical day in Egypt

2010-09-02T09:21:00.000-07:00

Getting anything done in Egypt is next to impossible. Even the simplest things.

Lets take checking into a hotel that offers internet. You check in. Ask for the password and they inform you that they the internet isn't working. You ask "but you told me you have internet", the response, "you didnt ask if it was working."

What?! I would just assume...

'the truth...we dont have internet. But I have seen the internet I can tell you about it'

"Tell me about it!"

'10 pounds'

"10 pounds to tell me about the internet?! Are you nuts?"

'You want nuts? No nuts. Store down the street.'

"What?!"

'Nuts on sale wednesday. Only wednesday. From 7-7:05.'

"They sell nuts for 5 minutes?"

'Yes but not during Ramadan. And not in December. January. Or April."

"ok"

'Goto store. It closed now but you wait for it to open'

"When will it open?."

'March. What is your name?'

"Reece"

'Chris?'

"Reece"

'Mike?'

"Yes Mike."

'Oh, we no sell internet or nuts to people named Mike.'

THE END

People have always been assholes.

2010-09-02T09:20:00.000-07:00

The wonder of ancient Egypt. The history. The architecutral triumphs. The 200 year old graffiti.

Seriously.

Walking through these great halls, I had a hard time deciding wether I was more impressed with the history that surrounded me or pissed off at the lack of respect many people over the years have shown these statues.

Look passed the thousand year old heiroglyphics and you see countless names scratched into the surface of every wall, statue, and tomb. 1878. 1876. 1890. Explorers filled with the triumph of discovering these tombs, quickly defaced them all by carving their names into them. And hundreds of years later, sunburned tourists from all parts of the globe contiuned the tradition. The great tombs of Egypt now resemble a bathroom stall at a turnpike rest stop.

Joe was here. Bob and Kathy 1989. Descarts 1890.

It's insane to me the level of ego the average human posseses. I wonder if any of these people stopped to think while they were carving hearts and puppy dog shapes into the faces of history; maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe I'm a little less important than these things I've traveled to see. Maybe future generations could care less if 'Margret and Stan were here'. I doubt it. They were probably too busy thinking about getting back on the air conditioned bus after they finished marking their place in history.

I hate Margret and Stan.

This stuff is all too Egyptian...it can't be real.

2010-08-25T09:25:00.000-07:00

A weird thing is happening lately in Egypt. Every ruin, pyramid, and/or temple I visit doesn't seem real to me. I look at them and think to myself "They have these in Vegas." or "I've seen statues like this outside of P.F. Chang's.".

It's just not registering.

I'm having a hard time connecting my brain with my eyes. I find myself standing in the middle of the Sahara with a sun beating down on me like 2000 fists, and I'm lost. These ancient statues tower over me and I just stand there with my jaw on the floor. Drooling.

I stand 1 foot away from heiroglyphics that date back to 1200 BC and my brain goes "tilt. tilt. tilt.". I just can't grasp it all. It's almost impossible to understand it. We're talking about stuff thats 3000 years old. Older than Jesus. Older than Napoleon. Older than Lincoln. Older than Miley Cyrus.

I find myself constantly repeating "Take this all in. Focus. These are things you'll never see again." I try. I try to burn the images in my head, but I constantly find myself walking away thinking it was all a dream.

Maybe it's because we've seen so much already. Maybe it's because I never thought I'd actually see these things in my lifetime. Whatever the reason it's wierd. I just hope if I ever forget about this adventure one of you will remind me, 'Hey remember that time you drooled on the Sphynx's foot. That was pretty cool man.'

Pyramids and sore feet.

2010-08-19T15:13:00.000-07:00

After nearly a month in Egypt we finally made it to the Pyramids. I think the time actually worked in our favor. In that month we learned how to deal with touts and how to avoid being over charged as tourists for just about everything.

We arrived at the pyramids around 4 in the afternoon. We were told not to go any earlier or we might actually burst into flames. Shit is hot in Egypt. What we weren't told is that the Pyramids close at 6pm, so we had 2 hours to get our history on and quick.

Stopping for a pre-pyramid meal at the KFC located literally across the street from the entrance, we fueled up for our adventure and then headed out.

After haggling with a tout for nearly 30 minutes we finally reached a deal on two camels. Totally psyched to be riding camels through the desert we headed with the touts down a deserted alley. "we're certainly going to die" I thought. Where are we going? Why are the Pyramids behind us? Why are there heroin needles all over the street and how successfully will I be able to leap from this camel and drop kick this tout if things get a little hairy?

Luckily for the touts I didn't have to drop kick them. No shennanigans took place. They were merely leading us to an illegal entrance where we could bring our camles after paying the police a little baksheesh.

The pyramids were amazing. Especially when they appear right in front of you as you cross over desert hills. They're huge. They're impressive. They're everything you think they'd be. It was unreal. I couldn't believe I was there. I mean I literally never thought I'd see the Pyramids in my lifetime. They seemed so foreign. Almost as if they didn't exist. But here I was, riding on the back of a camel thought the desert. Heading right towards them.

If you haven't been, I suggest you go. Without sounding cheesey there really is something in the air there. You can feel the history. It's pretty damn cool. Oh yeah, and the Sphynx is ALOT smaller than I thought it would be. I blame my misconception of their size on the Never Ending Story. I always thought the sphynx was at least as big as the Oracle staues Atreau stumbled upon. I mean their boobs were bigger than he was. So naturally I imagined the Sphynx being roughly the same size. It wasn't. Much smaller than the pyramids, and much smaller than those statued boobs.

As the sun set and the moon rose, we gathered at the foot of the Sphynx for a laser light show. Maybe the cheesiest thing I've ever seen. I seriously found myself laughing throughout most of it. Amidst the cheesiness there was one point of interest. The narrator spoke about how long the sphynx has stood guard over the pyramids and the centuries, sunrises, sunsets, and rulers its seen. Pretty cool when you actually think about it.

Onto Moses and Burning Bushes!

Our next adventure, after diving in the Red Sea of course, was a hike up Mt Sinai at 2 in the morning. Why 2 in the morning? Because it be hot here, and well because Egyptians don't sleep. After a two hour bus ride from Dahab we jumped out of our van and laced up our hiking boots. Off we went into the pitch black night, to tackle 7,000 feet in the Egyptian night.

Stumbling past camels, camel shit, rocks, and touts we slowly made our way up hill. For two and a half hours. I'll just get this out of the way now, we completely underestimated this hike. Having conquered Machu Picchu and Fitz Roy we figured we could walk up Sinai backwards. But Macchu Picchu was a long time ago. Many beers ago. Many bags of McDonalds ago. Many gallons of coke. It was hard. We're really out of shape.

There were times we thought we wouldn't make it. Sabrina contemplated getting a camel. Then we got to the stairs. 700 of them. Up. At 4 in the morning. Who's idea was this again?

We made it within minutes of sunrise. Collapsing on a rock formation we awaited the sun rise. Here it was. Mount Sinai. Moses. 10 Commandments. The Lord our Father. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ... sorry I fell asleep. Literally.

The sunrise came and went. We were high up on the mountain. For a minute or two I took note of how cool it was to be somewhere with so much historical importance. I imagined God and Moses chatting. I thought about how old the mountain was. And then I fell asleep again.

After our catnap of oh 15 minutes it was time for the 2 hour hike down. Joy. While it was fun watching elderly Japanese tourists slip and fall down the mountain, the thing I remember most is feeling like my feet were bleeding. We made it down the mountain around 8 am. The sun already blisteringly hot. We found shelter under a fig tree and proceeded to fall asleep again. Are you sensing a pattern here.

All in all it was a great trip. Even though I may make it sound like it wasn't. Being in the middle of this history was humbling. Would I do the hike again? Probably not, but I'd defenitly wait at the bottom for people who did do the hike to finish and tell me all about it.

I have no clue who I am anymore.

2010-08-14T14:49:00.000-07:00

I'm over sheesha.

I'm over drinking. Seriously. I have like two beers and I;m like what's the point.

I have no idea who I am anymore, and I'm a little frightened.

Let's hope it's just a phase young kids go through.

This place is dead anyway

2010-08-14T14:45:00.001-07:00

Dahab Egypt. Land of sun, sheesa, and great diving. Also the land of absolutely no freaking tourists, anywhere, at all, close up shop by 9:30pm, that's all folks, have a nice night, no night life what so ever, see you in the morning for your dive.

I mean seriously, this place is a ghost town by 10pm.

Whats up with Egypt. When we were hanging with Sabrinas family they would have dinner at 4 in the morning. So we reset our clocks to their schedule. Now we're in Dahab where people go to be earlier than the Fiensteins in Boca Raton.

We just cant catch a break.

Stuff on my mind grapes

2010-08-12T15:07:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I posted and alots on my mind so instead of writing a bunch of entries I'll just jot down some stuff I'm thinking about.

- I wish I knew more about Islam, and the conflict between Israel and the rest of the Middle East. America has done me a great disservice by not educating me on the truth in regards to this matter.

- I hate flies. Like seriously want every fly in the world to die hate them. They suck and there are so many of them in the world. They buzz all up in your face. Land on your mouth...disgusting. Buzz in your ear. Land on your arm...you swat them, they fly away for a milisecond and then land in the same exact spot you swatted them. Fuckers.

- Sidenote: have you ever thought of where flies go at night? Think about it. Theyre all over the place during the day and then at night, BAM, not a one of them.

- Blue House Thai in Dahab is the best Thai food I've had outside of Chang Mai, Thailand. Go there. Now.

- I can't stand hearing other Americans talk. Seriously, when did every single American female start sounding like Heidi from the Hills. Like oh my God.

- I think I want to do this forever. I'm not even close to being done. There's so much to see. And when you realize how long you can live in other countries on the money you make in America, you too will pack your bags and head for the airport.

- Dahab Egypt might be the coolest place on Earth.

- People in America who don't like Obama are morons. Check out the speech he gave in support of Alexi Giannoulias.Brilliant.
http://blogs.suntimes.com/sweet/2010/08/obama_shows_off_new_stump_spee.html

- In and Out needs to start selling Coconut Milkshakes.

- Inception was good not great.

- I still have not met my nephew Zach..and that's a pretty wierd feeling. Sorry little guy.

- I miss "experimenting" with medical marijuana.

- I'm not sure I have what it takes to have kids. I mean they cry alot. Alot alot. Do they do anything else?

- I really like Tahina and Egyptian bread.

- The Sphynx is alot smaller than I thought it would be.

- The Canes will go 11-1 this year losing a game they shouldn't.

- People will eventually learn the Spacenook is alot cooler than Facebook.

- I will never be able to write a commercial that's funnier than Brett Farves reality. Texting pics of yourslef masterbating WHILE WEARING CROCKS and nothing else to Jenn Sterger?? Really?

Youre a lucky man, want a fish?

2010-08-12T15:04:00.000-07:00

Sabrina is popluar here. Really popular. Poor girl can't walk ten feet without 20 shop owners stumbling over themselves to propose marriage to her. I can't tell if it's an incredible ego boost or just incredibly creepy.

Of all the lines tossed at her, here are our two favorites.

#1 For you I would kill my wife.

#2 You are fantastic. Worth 2000 camels.

Jack visits the Pyramids

2010-08-09T03:40:00.002-07:00

He wanted me in this picture but i was on the sidelines puking from heat stroke.

The loudest place on earth.

2010-07-30T08:24:00.000-07:00

Alexandria, Egypt. Holy fucking guacamole this place is loud. I mean NY on New Years to the 10th power loud. Ambulances stuck in traffic. Hundreds upon hundreds of people lining every sea wall, filling every side walk, and every street corner cafe until 8 in the morning. Beaches filled to capacity. Streets over flowing with traffic that moves at a snails pace. Music blasting out of every window, car, store front and shwarma stand. It's unreal.

And people don't sleep here. Literally. Beaches are filled from dusk until dawn and dusk again. The sidewalks are constantly full of people. The restuarants always packed. The streets always lined with cars. And they do it all without alcohol. I shit you not. I know I know impossible to believe. But it's true. Pick a time. 3pm, 5 am, 11 pm, 1 am...people be up. They're like sharks and zebras...they dont sleep.. Ever. And trying to in the middle of all of this is like trying to sleep ontop of a speaker at a Metallica concert.

It's also dirty. Really dirty. Trash and human poop in the hallway dirty. Garbage on the street. Garbage in the ocean. Garbage in the garbage. It's everywhere. So much garbage you wonder if there's enough room for the rats to live amng it.

It's not for everyone. I mean everyone outside of the 10,000,000 people that line its streets every morning, noon, and night and I realize that I won't love every place we go, but for me...this one, ranks near the bottom of places I've been. Glad I saw it, but glad I didn't have to stay for too long.

In ZAX

2010-07-29T09:41:00.000-07:00

Hey remember when I got that tattoo on my back? The one of my fraternity symbol. Man that was cool wasn't it? Yeah. Well, turns out that it has alot cooler meaning here than it does back home. I mean forgive me my fellow Lamb chops, I know the comitment I showed by tattooing our symbol on my body forever has always been met with your upmost respect and appreciation, but here in Egypt the Cross and Crescent represents alot more than bing drinking with your buddies and date raping girls on the weekend.

In Egypt the Cross combined with the Crescent represents peace between Christians and Muslims. Pretty topical tattoo wouldn't you say? I think it's cool. Who knew when I was sitting in that tattoo chair so many years ago, that one day I'd find myself in Egypt impressing the locals with my political stand.

I'm fat.

2010-07-29T08:22:00.000-07:00

Gone are the days of P90x workouts until I puke. Gone is my 4 pack. Gone are my bicepts (the envy of all my friends- go ahead and admit it Joe.). Gone is my endurance. Gone are my diamond cut tricepts.

In their place are flabby arms. An ever exapnding waist line. Doobs. And a sugar habit that would make Pookie from New Jack City blush.

I'm disgusting, and only getting worse. I keep telling myself I've got the rest of my life to workout. The rest of my life to eat boring, disgustingly healthy things to stay in shape. I keep telling myself these things as I scarf down my third bag of doritos for the day.

But I guess this is what happens when you become an international glutton. I'm soaking in everything. Free beer. Street food. Junk food. Doritos in 20 new exotic flavors. Meals with friends, meals with family. I just keep on eating and I've got six more months of it ahead.

So go ahead, get your shots in. Call me tubby. Call me the fat chick from Wilson Phillips. I don't care. I'm going to enjoy my trip around the world, and then come home and work my ass of until I get so strong I can open a can of corn simply by looking at it sternly. Arrrrrrggggggg.

Bada bop bop baaaaaa...I'm loving it...too much.

2010-07-28T08:21:00.000-07:00

Egypt is awesome. I absolutely love it here, but Egypt is also like the worlds biggest food court. Seriously. There's more fast food here than you can pack into a to go bag. KFC. McDonalds. Momen. Pizza Hut. Chicken Tikka. Burger King. They're all here, and they all supply Egyptians with the sugar fueled energy they need to make it to 5 am (every single day.) It almost seems like fast food is the only thing you can eat here. The thought of it is starting to make me sick. I seriously would kill a small puppy to eat at my favorite sushi place in LA or perhaps seriously maime a small child for a CPK salad.

Now I know what Vanilla Ice felt like...being a white celebrity.

2010-07-27T08:18:00.000-07:00

I can finally say "I'm huge in Africa." and mean it. I am. It's really weird, but I kinda feel a little like Miley Cirus with bad facial hair over here. Maybe its because I'm from America, or maybe its because I'm white. Maybe it's because I'm sporting the homless has been rock star look lately, but I've been in more than one situation on this trip where a complete stranger asks me to take a picture with them.

At first I thought they were asking me to take a picture OF them. I'd fumble with translation, miming the international sign for picture taking, and they'd motion back the same symbol, until they muttered in broken English 'no with you'.

With me? Are you serious? Clearly you must have me mistaken with Kenny Logins or someone equally as famous. But nope. They want a picture with me. Turns out most white folks over here don't have to be famous to be gawked at for hours. All you have to be is white, and in this part of the country. I guess they don't get much of us here, because no matter where we go every single eye in town is on us. Kids will sit next to us at restaurants, mouths agape as their ice cream cones melt in their hands. Men will stumble into oncoming traffic trying to sneak a peak (mostly at Sabrinas boobs), women will look in confusion dipped in disgust. And everyone wants a picture.

I must now be featured on nearly 20 international Facebook sites. I always wonder where these pictures are going to end up. What the people who took them are going to tell their friends. "yeah see this white dude. He tried to steal my box of KFC but I karate chopped him in the nose and he ran away crying." or maybe " see this dude, I stole his girlfriend". Whatever the story might be I'd love to hear them. I just hope I don't end up on some international website selling children for blood diamonds, but knowing my luck I probably will.

Where'd everybody go?

2010-07-26T06:27:00.000-07:00

Blame it on the economy, the weather, or maybe just plain dumb luck but whatever the reason we're not seeing many other tourists in our travels...especially American ones. We think it might be because we left when everyone else was either working or in school. It's been really wierd. Beaches...practically empty. Bars. Not a soul in them. It's almost like we're getting an exclusive VIP tour of the world. I've got to say it's pretty nice. Not having to deal with crowds. Tourists. Other Americans. It's like we've got the whole world to our selves...and 50 million other folks that already live in these places.

First Impressions- Egypt

2010-07-11T10:27:00.000-07:00

We arrived in Cairo, fresh off about one hour of sleep. After hearing horror stories about Egypt Air we were just glad we made it at all. I watched out the window as we flew over miles and miles of sand. A pyramid here, and 100,000 year old ruin there. My mind sizzling like a frying pan. "Where the hell am I?" My brain couldn't compute. "It looks a little like Vegas." "No it looks like the moon" "I'd say Burning Man" "You expect me to get off this plane?" "Wow I'm in fucking Egypt."

Wiping the sleep from our eyes we were warmly greeted by Sabrina's Egyptian family. Right away I knew this was going to be a good trip. They snapped photos as we walked into baggage claim, and welcomed us with handshakes and smiles. Off to our apartment. Yup. As our Irish friends say, were a couple of little cats, always landing on our feet. Turns out the family has several apartments throughout the city, and some of them are empty. So here we are again, in a foreign country with an apartment all to ourselves (thanks to the kindness of others).

I've been looking forward to arriving in Egypt for almost the entire length of the trip. I think it's the extreme contrast cultures (american/middle east) that's most interesting to me. I couldn't wait to see for myself what the middle east was all about. The real Middle East. The real people. The real ideas. Not just what Fox News wants us to think. I'll stop before I go into a whole diatribe about the misperceptions of American media on the Middle East and the damage it does, and just move on to the rest of the day.

We get picked up for dinner around 9 and head into a market area to grab something to eat. I instaneously overload on visual stimulation. Everything is cool. Colors. Metals. People. I want to buy everything. I want to meet everyone. I want to take pictures of every square inch of every street we walk down. The architecture is amazing. The mosques, beyond words. Lights blink everywhere. The colors of spices, scarfs, head dresses, and hooka pipes all swirl together into one making me dizzy. The smell of meat grilling makes my mouth water. I love this city.

Beyond the colors. Beyond the lights. Are the people. Already I can tell I like them. From the customs guards in the airport to the guys trying to sell me minature statues of the sphinx, everyone has a smile on their face. Everyone has the most infectious laugh. Everyone just seems cool. Sabrina's cousin, her husband and their son are our instant best friends. We laugh and chat, share a meal, a hooka pipe, some tea and a lot of questions. They are so warm. So friendly. So accomidating that we feel like locals instantly. As we walk around the market people ask us where were from. We say "the US", they say "welcome to our country". I hear people as I pass say "my brother you are a lucky man." I think to myself, they have no idea just how lucky.

I can't put into words my first 10 hours in Egypt. I felt like I was dreaming for most of it. I also can't explain the desire I have inside of me, begging to learn everything about this culutre, to see every mosque, to meet every person. I hope today was just the beginning of an amazing month in this city. I really hope.

Children of Africa...Hoyyyyyy

2010-07-05T05:59:00.000-07:00

Our volunteering is over. We've said our goodbyes. Bought our bags of rice. Did some good things, and hopefully made a difference.

Not all of it was great, but alot of it was. I'm very glad I did it, and look forward to spreading the word about the program.

These kids are smart. They have tons of potential, they just need some help from those who can. I have faith that help will find its way to their muddied school yard.

I feel good. Helping others is alot easier than I once thought. I think all people really want, is for someone to show that they notice them and care. That's not so hard to do.

I'll miss the kids and defenitly look back fondly on my time spent there. Time I'm sure will erase any of the negative experiences I had.

Now, concious cleaned, good will done, it's time to go get drunk with our new Irish friends Dave and Hellen. Gotta love this trip!

Punching a gift horse in the mouth

2010-07-01T06:57:00.000-07:00

Volunteering week 2

I'm starting to feel like my wallet is being fancied more than my volunteer work. It sucks. Let me just say that. We came to Kenya with hopes of giving our time and what little money we could to try and make a difference, but I'm starting to feel like the little money we have is all anyone is really concerned with. We started off by buying books and pencils for the kids, afterall how can you learn if you can't write anything down? Then we bought food, because, hey kids need to eat. Then we bought crayons cause hey kids need to eat while coloring. And then the requests started..

staff cook- "um I would be liking the perfume and lotion to make my skin soft"

head woman- "thank you for the food you bought, the kids need desks."

unnamed teacher- "would you like to pay for my sons schooling?"

unnamed teacher 2- "can you get me a computer?"

kitchen staff- " we are out of sugar. we would like that."

unnamed teacher 3- "it would be nice if we could pay our teachers."

unnamed teacher 4- " will you be coming to church sun. We can't wait to see what fabulous gifts you bring!"

I think you get the picture. What started out as warm and fuzzies has turned into a bit of naseua. I hate feeling like I'm a walking bank. I hate people feeling like the only "real good" I can do is with my wallet. I hate that this is souring my experience.

I keep telling myself it's not their fault. They need EVERYTHING. They seriously have nothing. No supplies, no food, no nothing, and the only way they get it is through others. I keep telling myself if a pair of westerners come to visit the school once a year the schools lucky. I keep telling myself that this is their chance. A chance to get what they need from the people who can give it. But it still pisses me off.

I was handed a list today of the things they need, that I am supposed to post onto Facebook. A virtual shopping list full of desk prices and teacher salaries, but I honestly don't know if I will. I'm completely torn, and it's gutting me.

I love these kids. I like the school. I don't want to put people off on the program. I think if you have money to give, this would be a good place to give it. I honestly do, and I hope the few people reading this blog might actually think about donating. But I'm going to be honest. I have to vent my frustration, in the hopes of showing up tomorrow and having a few smiles and a game of soccer wash away my cynacism.

Jacks making friends in Africa

2010-06-28T10:39:00.000-07:00

Volunteering Day 2 and 3

2010-06-26T06:31:00.000-07:00

We entered day 2 of volunteering with excitment and alot of coffee. We had only been through an introduction the day before and we were already exhausted. Today would be the first day I taught a class at the school. I was teaching English 1, which you can probably tell by my blog enteries, is a good place for me to start.

I sat through the morning classes until the grade 1 teacher handed me the chalk and said "ok its your turn." I figured at that moment I was going to sink or swim, and if I was going to sink, I'd at least try to make it entertaining for the class.

I taught. I danced. I hi fived. And we all laughed alot. These kids are smart. Real smart. Defenitly smarter than I was at their age, and their enthusiasm and general smarts made the class fly by. We had a blast. So much so that kids from the other classes were ignoring their teachers completely and watching my class. A few of them shouted out answers too! Ha.

At the end of the class, I patted myself on the back, happy that I survived and thinking "hey that wasn't so hard", then I realized I was covered in sweat. I guess my adrenaline got me through it all.

Day 2

Day 2 started with another English class. And then was followed up by a little blue collar work in the school yard. A week of rain prior to our arrival, turned the school yard into a swamp. There were holes everywhere, and standing water everywhere there wasnt holes. We needed to fill these in before they got any worse. Armed with the shovel I borrowed from Hugh (thanks Hugh!) I tackled the cement solid mound of sand that would be used to fill in the craters. My team of 5 eager students surrounded me, and without instruction shoveled the loosened sand onto empty rice bags and two by two tansfered them to the holes and filled them. I stood in amazement of these kids. Working their tiny muscles to the point of exhaustion and never once complaining. I laughed at the thought of me doing the same thing at their age.

After we finished our yard work it was time for field day. Every Friday the kids walk to the local field and play soccer and all sorts of games. It was awesome. I dove right in with the kids, and played my first official game of soccer. I wasn't horrible. I actually scored a goal. The kids went nuts. Then I had another break away and it was me and the goalie. Me 33, him 6. I fired the ball point blank range and the kid blocked it. It bounced of his 4 foot frame and i fired again, this time even closer. He blocked it again! I couldnt believe it! Stuffed by a 6 year old. I could only laugh as all the other kids came up and razzed me for my poor performance. After the game the kid came up to me and said "dont feel bad, I'm the best goalie around." Somehow his admission didn't make me feel any better.

On the way back to class we walked through the Ngando Slums. 30 kids deep, holding hands. I can only imagine what we must have looked like. 30+ African kids surrounding a goofy looking Mazungo (white person). I won't lie though, I felt a little like Jesus.

Along the way we stopped at the local food stand. A shack alongside a hundred other shacks selling odds and ends. We bought 20kgs of rice and 20 kgs of beans for the kids. It ended up costing us around $30, which is absolutely nothing considering these kids will be able to eat for weeks on it. We quickly realized how little it takes to make a difference here. $30 can feed 100 kids for two weeks. $20 can buy them all new books and pencils (most kids have to share their books and pencils because they can't afford their own. The ones who don't have someone to share with just sit and stare out the window. Its kind of heart breaking).

I'm absolutely loving my time here, and loving the friendships I'm making. I hope my presence here shows these kids that someone out there in the world cares about them. Because I do. I also hope that in someway they realize how much they're helping me. Their smiles, kindness and friendships are shattering my world. It's an awesome experience and one I know I'll never forget.

If you find these kids to be as awesome as I do, and feel like helping, head on over to http://rirutaumc.homestead.com/children_of_africa.html.

Volunteering Day 1

2010-06-22T06:06:00.000-07:00

I don't know where to begin. I don't know how to put this into words. I swore to
myself I will not come off as preachy. I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be
some great writer bound for the Nobel Peace Prize. I do know I want to document
everyday of my volunteering experience in the Kenyan slums. I guess I'll just have
to be honest and hope you forgive me if I come off as a prick.

I didn't know what to expect. I'll just put that out there. Sitting at home on my thousand dollar couch watching my two thousand dollar TV I've seen the commercials before. Kids. Hungry. In Africa. Flies surrounding them. Dressed in tatter and torn clothing. Pleading to the camera for help. Somehow, I will admit it, I always wondered how acurate these commercials were. In my synical mind I thought once the cameras were off, the kids were patted on the back for playing the poor kid part, and handed a pocket full of candy and sent on their way. It couldn't really be that bad? Could it?

Well I guess it all depends on how you define bad. As I ducked my head through the
tiny slit cut in a rusted sheet of metal my defenition of bad was about to get alot
cloudier.

I stepped into the school yard. A muddy patch of dirt closed off from the rest of
the slum by sheets of metal. A rotten smell immediately hit my nose, and I noticed
that not far to my left, and even closer to the schools source of water, was an
over flowing set of bathrooms. The school itself, nothing more than a few walls and
a roof divided into countless class rooms sat in the middle of the space, looking
as if the owner had abandoned it decades earlier. It looked rough to say the least.
It begged the question ' how can kids learn in an environment like this?' And then
I met the kids.

To say I've never experienced a time of equal joy and utter heartbreak would be 100%truthful. They ran to us. Smiles beaming. Eyes filled with excitment and wonder. All dressed in their "school uniforms", all pressing their way through, beside, and over one another...just to say hello to us. They wanted to touch us. I'm not sure why, maybe to make sure we were real. Whatever the reason, within the first 5 minutes of being there every child had shaken my hand. Some two or three times. In the blink of an eye the muddy septic field was gone, and I was surrounded by 50 of my newest friends.

I was standing there. Taking it all in, when one of the older kids in the group
came up to me and asked me if I could sing a song for him. I let him know that no
one wanted that. Trust me. Then I asked if he could sing me a song. And he did. He
clapped his hands twice to get a beat going, and before he could utter the first
word of the song, the entire schoolyard ran to surround us. Every kid was singing.
They danced. Shouted. And sang in perfect harmony. And I was in the center of it
all. It was one of those moments you only see in movies. A moment that makes you
step back and ask 'Is this really my life?'

It's impossible to explain the feeling that comes over you when a group of
strangers, especially kids, are so excited to see you. It makes you feel instantly
like you are home, and as these kids giggled and danced out of their mind with
excitment, I felt right. I felt like this was where we were meant to be.

I can't say everyday will be this rewarding, or that my next entry will be
positive. I can say I think I already love these kids. I hope at the end of two
weeks they might feel a little of the same for me.

Obama killed Dave Matthews

2010-06-08T07:59:00.000-07:00

I knew it would come to this eventually. One of my great loves would become jealous of another and strike that love down. I never knew it would be our President doing the striking.

Here's how the bloodbath happened. I purchased 'Dreams of Our Fathers' through the Itunes store. Downloaded it. Synched it with my Iphone. Errr...Wrong move. While synching the audio book, my Iphone decided to erase all of my Dave Matthews albums. All of them. All 1000 + songs. All bootlegs. All B sides. All live shows. All unreleased songs. All Dave and Tim. All of it. Gone. Because of Barack Obama and his dreams. Ugh.

And now I'm Daveless. Me. The guy who has seen him live over 60 times. The guy who listens to nothing, and I mean NOTHING, but Dave. Stuck. Like a rat in a sinking ship, if that rat loved Dave Matthews and had a rat sized Ipod with Dave songs on it. I'm kinda losing it. I mean what am I supposed to do on these bus rides I take, actually talk to Sabrina? Ha, that's gobbledeegook.

sos- stranded in Africa...(pause)...send more DMB.

Fun Fact

2010-06-02T10:30:00.000-07:00

For the 49% of whiz kids at home who have a problem with our current President, I'd like to inform you of the rest rest of the world's opinion.

They LOVE him.

I mean like serious man crush love. The men love him and the women really love him.

Here's another fun little fact. He's single handedly made it ok for Americans to travel again. We no longer need to pretend we're Canadian. We can be proud Americans. Obama has given us international street cred, and it feels real good.

I've heard this on more than one occasion from the people I've met on this trip. " The great thing about Obama, and what his election meant for America, is that it's still possible for people to change the country. The American people weren't happy with the way things were going, so they changed it, and that says something to the rest of the world. It says that they (Americans) weren't ignoring the problems. All the bad shit that was making them look like an global joke. They realized there was a problem and fixed it. The world respects that."

That's a real good thing to hear, and it's an even better thing to experience. I can't tell you how many cities I've been in where complete strangers, knowing I'm American, shout across a busy street "America! Obama!". I can only imagine last year that it would have been something more along the lines of, "America! You suck!"

Walk into any market around the world and you'll find an Obama shirt for sale, or being worn by a local. Umbrellas, hats, buttons, stickers, everything you can imagine emblazened with his portrait. And this is 5,000 miles away from where the guy is President. I walked into a local restauraunt today, made of straw and reeds, in the middle of Tanzania, and I found a hand painted portrait of Obama greeting me as I entered. In Tanzania! Imagine that being a painting of Bush or Sara Palin. Ha.

I guess Obama has become the presidential version of soccer...err.. football. While 90% of the world gets it, half of America doesn't.

I apologize

2010-05-30T23:47:00.001-07:00

I realized lately that I'm taking myself a little too seriously with this blog thing. I've started hating myself for it. I mean really, these babbling diatribes about chickens crossing the road and how its the secret to life, really? Who the hell am I Karl Sager? Nope. I'm just some knucklehead traveling around the world looking at shiny fish and eating coconuts. I'm sorry I forgot that, it won't happen again.

Yesterday was fun

Started out by getting scammed by a tour guide. He saddled up beside us as we were walking to the fish market next thing we know he's asking us for $60 american dollars for showing us some fish.

Next we got scammed at lunch. I must have ordered the "whitey special" because we were charged two times the price of our meal. Lucky us.

After that we decided to screw it all and head to the nicest hotel in town. I forgot what hotels like that were like. It was actually really refreshing to order a $5 beer and a $10 glass of wine. We sat there laughing at ourselves, sipping expensive drinks in our tank tops and dirty feet as a piano played in the background.

Off to buy our ferry tickets. Holy crap. what seemed like 100 guys descended on us as we approached the ferry zone. "Hey my friend" " Boss over here" " Hey buddy I can get you nice boat" all walking with us stride for stride as if we were jesus and his apostles. Having already been screwed twice in one day I quickly learned how to tell them thanks but no thanks. It didnt work. I'm not quite sure if we made it out alive. I may be writing this from an internet cafe in heaven.

Finally we strolled through the neighborhood and found the row of hindu temples. Walkign around on the spotless marble served as a needed break from the insanity out on the street. I walked into one temple and was approached by a man who was praying when I walked in. He took me through the temple and explained his religion to me. I have to say it was one of the coolest things that happened so far, especially when he saw Sabrina sitting at the entry and asked if she wanted to come in, but only if she was "clean and not on her period". I laughed and asked "how do you define clean?"

My life adjusted

2010-05-25T00:20:00.000-07:00

The human ability to adapt is truly astonishing.

Before I left for this trip bus travel was not an option. If I couldnt fly or drive myself, I wasn't going.

Once I got to South America I was forced to take buses everywhere we went, and I soon found out that they weren't bad. TV. Air Con. Reclining seats and in ride dining. Not a bad way to travel. I said to myself, if this is how bus travel is, well then hey I can deal with it.

Then I got to Africa.

The buses here were smaller. And they kept getting smaller the more I traveled. Where there once was a reclining chair with headphone jacks, there was now a torn plastic bus bench with a metal rod sticking out of the headrest.The plush and comfy row that fit two person per row, was now replaced by a 4 person row that sat 10. The foot room that I was accustom to, where I'd take of my shoes and stretch out my tootsies, was now replaced with room enough for one foot and a tool box, a chicken, a box of fish, and three tanks of gasoline. That arm rest I had, was now some strangers lap. And the in ride movie, was now the back of someones head and/or ass, just inches from my nose. Direct routes were now, mutliple stops and on bus bathrooms were now plastic bottles into which I pissed.

But you know what? I'm dealing. You learn to deal because you kind of have to. It's the rythm of life here, and you either dance to the beat, or get off the dancefloor and go home.

The bus journeys, like the places I stay, or the things I eat or the people I meet along the way are what they are, and I'm adjusting quite nicely to that.

I like to hope and pray that I will end this trip someone completely different than the person that began it. But if not, I can at least say one thing for certain. If I have to, I can share my bus seat with a chicken.

Chicken flavored breakthroughs

2010-05-25T00:19:00.002-07:00

Traveling in buses through Africa is an experience unlike any other. The world passes by endlessly, as if it were running on a treadmill. It's in this downtime that I've actually had a chance to think. A chance to let my mind completely wander wherever it wants to go. The other day it chose to focus on a chicken crossing the road.

Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side.

I never understood this joke before. Never found it funny. Often wondering how and why it had such a long shelf life. How was this one of the jokes that survived the test of time? It's not funny. I know funny. I get paid to be funny. And I know that this joke, unlike many a knock knock joke or a horse walking into a bar joke, is not funny. It never has been. As a child I dismissed this joke as being too dumb to get. This joke, I figured, was a joke for simple folks. The kind of folks that find Full House and Family Cirlce funny. Clearly I am not one of these people, my brand of humor is far more sophisticated. Or so I thought...stupid little fat kid.

I now understand the joke, the entire time it seems, was on me.

All this time I was looking for something more than the answer I had, because the answer I had wasn't funny. To get to the other side? That's it? Really? That's the big payoff? It can't be. But it can, and it is. That's the answer and I get it now. The joke I spent my life grappling with, trying to understand, turns out to not be a joke at all, and that's precisely what makes it funny. This joke, it appears, is a lesson.

Why else would a chicken cross the road?

The lesson here is simple. Sometimes there isnt always a deeper meaning to everything. Sometimes there is no hidden message. Sometimes things are just what they are.

It's a good lesson to learn. I think we've been raised to always question things. To overanalyze everything. To find the deeper meaning in it all. Wether its life, love, religion or the universe. We need to know the meaning behind it all. We need to know why the sky is blue instead of just accepting that it is. We need to know why we are here, what we're supposed to be doing, when it will all end, and what the whole point of being here in the first place is. We can't be satisfied with just being.

The chicken taught me to just be. Just accept life as it comes. Don't look for the deeper meaning, because then you lose the meaning entirely. Looking for something more, and you may miss what's right in front of you. The chicken needed to get to the other side of the road, so he crossed it. Nothing less, nothing more. That's one smart chicken.

Space for rent

2010-05-25T00:19:00.001-07:00

I've come to realize that the most valuable luxury any of us own is our individual personal space.

Take it away, and you miss it more than anything you've ever owned.

Get it back and you'll value it almost as much as the air you breathe.

I may have Malaria

2010-05-18T03:07:00.000-07:00

Walking back from dinner the other night I started to feel myself go down hill fast. I always know when Im getting sick because the roots of my hair hurt. Thats right. Thats how I know, and my hair doesnt lie. Couple that with the almost instantaneous waterfall that began to flow from my nose and it was pretty clear that I had caught something.

The flu sucks no matter where you are, but put yourself in the middle of malaria country and the flu becomes a little something more than a minor inconvience. For someone like me (aka hypocondriac) this becomes a serious problem.

Upon feeling the first signs of my oncoming sickness I head straight to bed, hoping that a good night sleep will work itself out. Wrong. I wake up the next morning with a temperature over 100, body aches, a headache, a slight cough, and chills. Im exhausted too. Like holy crap I cant lift my hands to blow my nose exhasuted. A million things run through my head. I have AIDS. No I have mono. No i had mono when I was a teenager so i can't get it again. Right? It must be the water. Or the food. Something is wrong and that something will probably kill me. I reach over to grab our guidebook and thumb through to the malaria page. I go onto read (paraphrased of course)- Malaria is not to be fucked with. You can die bitch. Signs that you got malaria include fever, body aches, cough, headache and chills. Do you have these? You do? Well then you have malaria.

Aw shit. I have malaria! I knew it! Great now Im going to die and I never found out who won the Amazing Race or if the Cavs battled back to take the series against the Celtics. Oh well it was a good run.

Well theres only one thing left to do in this case, go get tested. Confirm my death sentence and make arrangements for my funeral. So Sabrina and I pack ourselves into a typically over crowded african bus and make our way to the clinic. I feel like shit. Like I want to die shit. Luckily for me, thanks to malaria i just might. We arrived at the clinic bus stop and the world is spinning. I havent eaten in about 30 hours and I feel like Im going to pass out. We walk into the clinic and they escort us into the room where they draw my blood. Oh great now Im really going to pass out. 10 minutes later the test confirms it, I'm a pussy. No malaria. I just have the flu. Ugh.

So I suffer through the next few days sweating through my clothes and watching Sabrina slowly go crazy from being couped up in a straw hut for 3 days. In the end I'm glad I didn't have Malaria, but I would like to pass on a piece of advice to the folks who write our travel books. Dont be so vague about the warning signs of Malaria. I mean seriously if the warning signs you describe are exactly like the flu well then isn't it more likely that you have the flu? The signs are so damn vague you end up sending paranoid idiots like myself into a tailspin. If you sneeze and cough twice you might have malaria. If you blink your eyes four times you might have AIDS. If you can hear yourself breathing out of your nose you're probably going to die. Unbelievable.

Tofo, Mozembique- where perfection goes on holiday

2010-05-18T03:03:00.000-07:00

We arrived in Tofo about a week ago. I say about because I'm not really sure what day it is or when we arrived. The people around here say that if you stay long enough you sink into the Tofo hole. Poke your head up to look around and three months have passed before you know it.

I can completely understand why. Our room is a private straw hut sitting on top of a sand dune overlooking the ocean. Everynight I fall asleep to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. The roads here are all dirt, the power is spotty, and the rain storms are amazing. The pace of life is slow. Real slow. The most active thing I've done since we arrived was snorkling with giant whale sharks. And I like it.

One day we decided that the beach we were staying on was nice but we wanted to see more so we hopped on a boat and sailed 2 hours to an island in the bay. New beach, same pace. You have to laugh when you realize your life, for the meantime at least, consists completely of island hopping from perfect beach to perfect beach. Well at least it makes me laugh.

Oops my bad.

2010-04-29T03:43:00.001-07:00

I clearly didn't miss my calling as an American Ambassador. I found out recently that unbeknownst to me, I've been flipping off tons African locales. It seems the "peace" symbol here doesn't mean peace, it means "go fuck yourself." Whoops. Sorry Africa.

My wine cellar

2010-04-27T08:02:00.000-07:00

I have recently become aware that many of you use my blog as a guide to living your life. Whether it's what beers to drink when traveling or how to sucessfully punch a Great White Shark in the nose, my tips have been the guiding light to many folks. So as a public service to all of my hundreds of readers I will guide you along another potentially confusing road. Wine.

Wine can be difficult for some. What's a good wine? Whats a bad wine? And where can I get it?

Well fear no more my friends. Here's everything you'll ever need to know about wine.

1) wine is good.

2) You should drink alot of it.

3) White wine is for women.

4) Expensive wine isn't always the best.

5) Italian wines are the worst. Followed by French wines.

6) Argentinian Wines are the best. Followed by Australian and some Spanish wines.

Here's a handy dandy list of the only wines you should ever drink. Trust me on this one.

1) Tempus Alba- (Mendoza, Argentina)

2) Molly Dooker- (Adeladie, Australia) Cabernet Savignon

3) Fantail - (Stellenbosch, South Africa) Shiraz

4) R-Renacer - ( Mendoza, Argentina) Malbec blend

5) Postales Del Fin De Mundo - (Mendoza, Argentina) Cabernet Savignon / Malbec

Reece's Awesome Travel Tips #3

2010-04-27T07:58:00.002-07:00

(from guest travel tiper Sabrina)

Bring a baggie of your favorite condiment packets from home. When you're on the road for months and ordering off menus you cant read, sometimes you just need a little Tapatio.

Reece's Awesome Travel Tips #2

2010-04-27T07:58:00.001-07:00

A coke can can act as a good deterant to pick pockets. Put whatever you're carrying in your pocket first and then cover it with a coke can. It'll be pretty hard for someone to swipe your goods with a Coke can in the way.

Reece's Awesome Travel Tips #1

2010-04-27T07:57:00.001-07:00

When traveling through the Garden Route in South Africa, rent a car. Don't take the Baz Bus. It's longer and more expensive than just renting a car. Renting also makes your travel through the Garden Route more flexible.

If I were President

2010-04-27T07:51:00.000-07:00

First of all it would be awesome. Second of all I would outlaw the following.

-R&B music made after 1995.

-People on things waving to people who aren't on things. Including but not limited to buses/airplanes/boats/trolley cars/ funiculars
Amendment 1a: If you are a foriegner and a local child waves at you, you may wave back.
Amendment 2r: If a friend waves at you while you are on something, you must withold your wave as to not mislead strangers into thinking you're waving at them.
Footnote 1: You have the right to be angry with your friend for putting you in that
position.

-Jogging in city streets.That is what parks are for.

-Jogging in place at stoplights.

-Traveling with a guitar.

-Traveling while sick.

-Going to work while sick.

-Going to class while sick.

-Pushing an elevator button when someone was already standing at the elevator.

-Pushing the cross walk button more than once while waiting to cross the street.

-Listening to music (without headphones) from your cell phone.

-Stopping to look around at the foot of an escalator.

-Ordering a platter of sizzling Fajitas in a restaurant.

Niceness is pretty nice.

2010-04-27T07:50:00.001-07:00

I've tried to write this entry 12 times. Each time I finish, I scrap it because it's not saying what I intended it to say.

The point is simple. I'm learning how to recognize kindness, but for some reason I havent been able to come out and say it...until then..good this might finally go somewhere.

I've read countless times that you can see the acts of God through the kindness people show you, but unless you actively look for it most times it will be missed. I'm learning that you have to be open to it. Use your eyes to really see instead of just look. You would think it would be easy, you would think it would be second nature. Who wouldnt't want to accept kindness from others? But it isn't. Or at least it isn't for me. Maybe that's because I'm American, or maybe it's because I have a difficult time trusting people. Whatever the reason allowing people to be kind to me has been a process.

The good news is I'm learning. I'm looking. And I'm realizing that kindness is exponential. Once you see it, you realize it's all around you and it's been there the whole time. What starts as a good deed from one person, allows you to see the kindess in another. And then another. Soon it seems like everyone you run into wants to help you, then all of the sudden you become the one helping others.

I guess the world is alot like those Magic Eye posters from the 90's. You can spend years staring at it, trying to see the hidden unicorn leaping over the laughing bear and see nothing. Then one day your eyes relax, you begin to see things a little more clearly and BAM there it is, kinidness, in all its unicorn leaping glory.

It's just one of the many things you learn on the road I guess. When you start stripping away all the superficial crap that clouds your daily life. When you open yourself up to people and to experience you learn that God is kind. Really kind. So are the people around you. Both want to be good to you. Both want to help you, and both want to see you happy. The signs of this are everywhere. All you have to do is open your eyes and see whats really around you.

Lights. Camera. Karaoke.

2010-04-27T07:47:00.000-07:00

I've finally realized what I was put on this earth to do. Direct karaoke videos. I'm going to buy a video camera as soon as I get back to the States.

Fav Hermanus pics

2010-04-13T11:04:00.000-07:00

Sharrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!

Fav Stellenbosh pics

2010-04-13T11:00:00.000-07:00

Click here for wine and lions...well maybe just wine.

Fav Cape Town pics

2010-04-13T10:56:00.001-07:00

Bitches be riches here yo.

Robo shark vs Normal shark

2010-04-12T10:46:00.001-07:00

As many of you may or may not know I'm terrified of mechanical sharks. Not mechanical bulls, mechanical sharks. I have no idea where this fear originated from, seeing as how I've never come in contact with a mechanical shark, but Ive always said if I had the choice between diving into a pool with a mechanical shark or a real shark I'll take the real one thank you. Something about the teeth, and the metal, and the wet teeth and wet metal makes my skin crawl. Not to mention the chance of the water I mentioned before seeping into the tiny mechanical brain of the shark and causing it to go ape shit in the water chomping everything in sight. Can a shark even go ape shit, or would it be shark shit?

Anyway I digress, maybe my fear was born from Jaws. That movie was some scary shit. I mean the idea of a shark killing everyone in New York is scary enough, but make that shark a wierd, distorted robot shark, with the paint peeling off the side (sorry Speilberg but its true) and then you have something truly terrifying. I saw a picture once of Steven Speilberg laying in the mouth of the half body robot of Jaws on set of Jaws 1, and I thought to myself 'welp there goes any chance of him directing a Jaws sequel...dudes a gonner.'

So here I am, a guy terrified by mechanical sharks, but at the same time fascinated by real ones. Explain that. I mean I really love them. I thought in college I would be a Marine Biologist and ride sharks all over the ocean, until I found out how much Oceanographers make.

Even though I took a different career path I knew one day a real shark and I would meet. Today was that day.

We traveled to Africa for a lot fo reasons. See new cultures. Expand our boundries. Volunteer, making us feel all squisshy good inside. Most of all though, we came to Africa to dive with Great White sharks. To say I wasn't up all night last night staring at the cieling imagining sharks picking me to pieces would be a lie. This morning I thought I had pissed the bed, but then I realized I was swimming in a pool of my own sweat. Apperently my anxiety medication has no effect on the thoughts of dying by Great White shark.

Like a boy excited for Christmas morning (a Christmas morning where your presents could tear the flesh out of your bones) I leaped out of bed and into the shower. Hopped a transport to Hermanus, and sat. Waiting. For what seemed like an eternity. Pictures of sharks leaping out of the water, rushing towards cages, and doing all sorts of sharky things surrounded me. In my head each shark had a bloody human corpse in its mouth. Nevertheless as soon as the captain said it was time to go I was the first one out the door.

We set sail into the ocean, and it took about 30 minutes to get to the shark area. We joined a handful of boats making a circle. I thought to myself, this must be the location where the sharks are sitting at their shark dining tables waiting for us to jump in. I couldn't help but laugh to myself how stupid the locals must think we are. Paying good money to jump into the water with a known killing machine. White people are dumb I thought, how else could you explain 'Full House.'

After anchoring for a bit folks started gearing up to jump into the water. I wanted to be first in line but I had to tend to Sabrina. She was hanging over the railing, emptying her guts out into the ocean. You see she doesn't do well with boats, and I know this, and I'm a jerk because I made her go anyway. She's a real trooper for putting up with it all. So during this down time I was able to watch the sharks from the boat. They were awesome. They cruised through the water like fighter planes. Unbelievably precise but also incredibly graceful. What suprised me most was they weren't violent. They didnt tear the bait to pieces or dismantle the diving cage. They didnt shoot laser beams out of their eyes, or karate chop the boat in half. They just swam. From time to time they would check out the bait and try to get a nibble, but most of the time they just assesed the situation. You could see them thinking.

Then I got in the cage. The first shark made its pass, I dipped under the water and was absolutely floored. This thing was big. Not as big as in my dreams/nightmares but big enough. It glided back and forth infront of me in absolute silence. I looked at it, it looked at me and we both agreed that while it could slice me in half, today was probably not the day to do that.

For the next hour I bobbed up and down, submerging myself each time a shark came by. Some were bigger than others, some had more teeth, and some had old rusty hooks in their mouths, but all of them were amazing. I could not get over how peaceful the whole thing was. I wasn't scared. I was cold, but not scared. The sharks weren't aggressive. It was clear they wanted nothing to do with me. They barely wanted anything to do with the bait. They just wanted to swim around and check everything out. I'm sure if I was a pirate with beef jerky in my pirate shorts drifting in the sea after my ship sank things might be different, but as things were they were perfect.

I could have stayed watching them until someone dragged my hypothermic body out of the water. It was truly one of the coolest things I've ever done.

On my second pass in the cage, the guys notched it up a level. They kept dragging the tuna bait straight over the top of the cage. That lead the shark, mouth wide open, many times, straight into my face. It was unreal. I could count the teeth on these things. At one point a shark actually misjudged the traget and slammed mouth first into the cage. Directly infront of me. I heard the sharks teeth scrape the metal inches from my nose. I shit you not. But even then it wasn't scary. I knew they werent getting passed the bars so I just enjoyed it all, and tried to not crap in the dive shop's wet suit.

Even though this dive was absolutely incredible, you'll never get my ass in a tank with a mechanical shark. I'd rather chew my own arm off.

Happy birthday to me.

Fav Buenos Aires Pics

2010-03-27T20:30:00.000-07:00

When your grave is bigger than most peoples houses, you know you are rich.

More Pics from BA here.

Fav Mendoza Pics

2010-03-21T07:48:00.000-07:00

Is there a thing as too much wine? Click here to find out.

Jack can't feel his toes

2010-03-20T06:54:00.000-07:00

Mendoza, Argentina

Jack's says his toes are cold

2010-03-16T09:00:00.000-07:00

Jack at the end of the world. Patagonia, Argentina.

Sabrina thinks I have a coke problem

2010-03-16T08:45:00.000-07:00

They say step one is admiting you have a problem. I dont. Does that count as step 1? Much to Sabrina's dismay I've been buying a can of Coke a day. The shit is good. I forgot how good. You can find a freezing cold can in just about any corner store in the neighborhood. Perfect for giving you that get up and go buzz needed to hike 40 miles up a snowy mountain.

Theres only one problem. Make that three. Im starting to get addicted to the sugar. I can feel my body craving the sweet sweet sacrine hit, and it makes me a little weak in the knees. Would I give a blowy in a back alley for a can or two? Not yet. Why? Are you interested?

The second is I heard coke can cause man boobs. All those calories add up, and I think Sabrina should be the only one in this party with D cups.

Last but not least its expensive. A can of coke (or at least what Sabrina tells me) (It seems I can't do basic math, thanks Florida School System!) costs about $4. Yeah $4 a day. Thats a pricey habit. At this rate she calculates a can of coke a day will cost roughly $2000 for the year, which would cut our trip short by a month.

So the question is, how badly do I want to see Australia?

I heard they have good coke there.

The wheels on the bus go round and round for 30 hours

2010-03-07T10:25:00.000-08:00

I’m on the final leg of a 30 hour bus ride to the end of the world, and as I look out the window I cant help but laugh. Where the hell am i? How the hell did this all happen? How did I get this lucky?

I have brief moments of clarity. Times when I realize what it is Im exactly doing on this trip. Times when everything slows down so much that I can appreciate every color in front of me and every smell surrounding me. Points where I can remove myself from it all. See myself from a Google Earth kind of view. Me a pin on a map, traveling the world. Then there are the other times, when it all mixes together into far too much input for my brain to compute making me want to hurl.

It’s absolutely amazing to think that my feet will have traveled to the end of the world. Who would have thought that? Not me. Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d be in Patagonia. I mean who goes there other than multimillionaire explorers and polar bears, and yet here I am, rapidly approaching the mountains, lakes, and plains just a little outside of the end of it all. Its incredible. I feel small and huge at the same time. I feel the vastness of the sky and begin to understand the stretches of land that roll out endlessly to the horizon. I’m beginning to understand silence, and starting to recognize it has a smell, and I love it all.

My feet are at the end of the world. The feet that have walked me through my life to get to this point. Through bad haircuts and worse outfits. Terrible relationships and one that has opened the world to me. Through the challenges of my childhood and the wonders of actually growing up. Through the tests, and the classes, and the part time jobs, and the unemployement, and the countless cities (Miami, Atlanta, NY, Chicago, Los Angeles, and San Francisco).To the losing and the finding of God. All to get here. The end of the world and not a minute too soon.

Fav Bariloche Pics

2010-03-07T10:20:00.001-08:00

Peep the Germanosity.

Beer Review Number 3: Brazil

2010-02-25T14:33:00.000-08:00

Carnival, the tannest endurance test I've ever witnessed, was quite a beast. Think you're good at drinking? Think you can hang with the hombres grande? Well pack your liver in a suitcase and come on down, because this bitch takes some talent to get through.

Theres beer on the beach. On every street corner. In every store. On every menu. And seemingly in everyones hand. I think there was beer in my cereal. Everyone drinks. In the morning. All through the day and way into the night. I saw a mother puking on her child who inturn puked on their dog. Everybody be hammered here.

"So" you might say, "the beer must be amazing with all those people drinking it up."
I would reply in return, "No. It isnt. In fact it tastes like piss. And it doesn't matter what brand you drink, its all coming from the same penis. " (HA unintended play on words there)

I'm not going to do an individual breakdown of the beers. As they're all pretty much the same. Skol, Devassa, Antartica, and Brahma. All terrible in there unoriginal, indescernable ways. Instead i'll just continue to complain.

Truth be told. Not all the women in Rio are hot. Not are all in shape. Some are fat. Everyone is tan. And the beer is terrible. I mean real bad. Bad like in you better drink that beer ice cold, straight from the cooler, in 1 minute or less or you'll have a can full of dog pee pee to deal with. I can not understand why people make bad beer. Moreover I really cant understand why people make lots of different types of bad beer. Some things in this world I guess are beyond me.

What do you get when you force piss flavored beer down your gullet all day and all night in the hottest weather youve ever felt? Why the worst hangovers you've ever had of course. The kind that make you pray for the sweet mercy of death. Waking up with a mouth so dry you could grow corn and potatoes on your tounge. Headaches so blinding you wish you could take your eyeballs out with mellon ball peelers. Bad stuff man. Not advisable on any level.

What then to do during Carnival if you're going to avoid the beer. Drugs are always an option, especially if you want to goto jail and be rapped by a tranny. Option number two, you could go the hard alcohol route, but its kind of expensive and will likely end in the same suicide inducing state of hangover that beer does. So...I say drink the piss. Drink it cold. Drink it proud. Let that golden pee shower over your face and drink it all in one gulp. You're in Rio after all, there's boobies to see!

*Perhaps the best beer related story during Carnival was the presence of Paris Hilton promoting Devassa beer. Whatever ad agency is responsible for landing her as a spokesperson for a beer whos name literally means 'dirty slut' should be awarded a medal. Brilliant marketing. Here's said spokes person gracefully promoting the beer at a Night club in Rio. Bravo Paris, you make all of America proud.

Valporaiso Pics-

2010-02-24T12:14:00.001-08:00

I apologize for talking such shit about this place. Turned out to be really amazing.

Click here.

Its official...I hate my haircut.

2010-02-21T11:31:00.000-08:00

I have a hair problem. Everyday I go back and forth about what the fuck I should do with it. When its short I wish it was long, when its long I wish I had an afro. I can never make up my mind as to what to do with it.

On this trip i thought I had it all figured out. I wanted to look as Euro as possible, but since I can only grow the facial hair of a 10 year old italian girl I figured the hair on my head would have to do most of the heavy lifting. So I researched Euro hairstyles that would go well with a traveling lifestyle. The perfect balance between style and ease of use. I thought I found the answer in the Euro Soccer player style. Here you grow your hair long and use a thin head band to hold it back. Makes the front look clean and the back a wild mess. It works for all the popular soccer players over here so I figured it would work for me. Then I tried it and realised I look like a fucking moron.

So whats next. I know maybe Ill go full Hippie adventure travel guy and pull my hair back into a ponytail. Its almost long enough (no it isnt). Well I did that too. And low and behold I once again look like a fucking moron.

Finally I got to the point where I'm just not washing it anymore. To hell with it I say! What happens? My hair resorts back to the haircut i had in college , the ole Zack Morris Butt Cut, only my butt is much much greasier. So again fucking moron.

This is my hell. I know if I cut it off Ill hate it, but if I leave it in this in between limbo I'll hate it even more. What to do! Should I braid it like the sunburned little fat girls do in the bahamas? Or maybe Ill grow dreads. I think that carries alot of travel street cred. Or maybe for once have the balls to do a real mohawk. On the other hand maybe I'll perm it. Then again...

**I'm open to suggestions.

Share a coke and some roofies

2010-02-21T11:16:00.000-08:00

Thanks to America I've turned into a gigantic pussy. I'm scared of everything. Terrorist. Dogs. Terrorists who own dogs. It's unbelievable. I won't go into Michael Moores whole theory on our government terrorizing us into submission, but i will say he makes a good point.

Take yesterday for example. We're sitting in a small street side restaraunt enjoying our lunch. Suddenly a stranger comes up to us with a fresh bottle of ice cold coke. He manages a few words in broken english. "where are you from". My mind takes a minute to compute what language hes speaking in and what language I should respond. I choose slurred english. Uhhhh English, I mean America. He then lights up "oh I studided in America!" as he places the bottle on our table and gives the universal sign "here, a gift for you." He leaves just as quickly as he came, saying to us as he parts "a gift from me, my country is very friendly."

Wow. What a nice guy. I mean who in America would do that? Offer up a free coke wanting nothing in...hold on wait a minute..I think he put drugs in it. He must have. Why else would he give us a coke? Its got some kind of mind erasing poison in it. Hes waiting for us to drink it and then he's going to jump us outside.Then he'll take us to his house and use us as sex slaves and not the good kind you see on the Playboy channel. Or maybe its some kind of weird foreign tradition. Maybe if I drink his offered coke he gets ownership of my kindneys. Or maybe I'm supposed to give him Sabrina in return. Thats got to be it. There's no way he could just be doing it out of the kindness of his heart.

So as we left the sidewalk cafe, an untouched bottle of Coke sat sweating in the afternoon heat on the cafe table.

Thanks alot President Bush, you've created a country of pansies.

Fav Santiago Pics

2010-02-20T06:30:00.000-08:00

Santiago city of parks, buildings, and God sent Panasonic stores.

Fav Rio Pics

2010-02-20T06:26:00.000-08:00

Trannies, boobies, trannies with boobies, and beaches..enjoy.

Night to forget morning to remember

2010-02-15T18:38:00.000-08:00

There are moments in life (at least mine) where i wish I had a mental camera capable of capturing an exact moment in time so that years from now I can go back and remember it. This morning was one of those moments.

After a night spent losing my favorite camera and filing police reports, I spent the morning swimming in the ocean at sunrise.

The best moment of the trip so far came when i was floating in the ocean looking out towards the horizon, with the sun breaking into the sky directly infront of me. It looked as if the sun was coming straight out of the water. I've never experienced anything like that. Awesome.

Sorry folks parks closed

2010-02-15T01:35:00.000-08:00

yeah so my camera got stolen last night.

score 1 for underprivelaged yuths
and 0 for stupid white guys.

we'll be back up and running image wise once STA fufils their whole end of the insurance deal.

You say Futbol I say Tomato

2010-02-14T11:34:00.000-08:00

Last night i attended my first Brazilian soccer game and lived to tell the tale.
Was it fun? Yes. Was it more fun than watching an American football game? Nope, sorry Pele, it wasn't.

Here were the highlights.

From the moment we stepped on the train you could tell this was a different sport. Yes Carnival is going on at the same time and yes half the people on the train were probably wasted, but holy moses were they rowdy. The train was COMPLETELY packed. I mean like NY + SF subway packed. I think I might have actually been standing on a small child. He felt soft beneath my tired feet. Some how we managed to get on the right train, and off it, only losing a pair of sunglasses (which is better than our lives). A nice Brazilian took it upon himself to escort us from the crowded train, through the crowded station to the correct connecting train. Did I mention I saw a 60 year old woman throw an elbow towards Sabrinas face as she tried to exit the train. Shit be serious here.

So onto the stadium. It was huge and yes thats what she said. We searched around for scalped tickets. Ran into a fellow traveler we met several nights earlier at an irish bar, and he proceeded to kick us in the balls by telling us that the tickets he bought were 2 times the price we wanted to pay. Never one to focus on the negative, we wished them well and walked around the corner where we bought two tickets in the covered area (which is important because the non covered areas come with a complimentary golden shower from fans throwing their piss from above.) for half the price of his.

The game was fun. The fans were completely out of their minds. Shooting off fire works from their seats and singing the entire game. Quite a different scene from what Im used to ..ie Atlanta fans refusing to show up for Braves world series games, or Hurricane fans refusing to show up for anything...much like the team...oh burn yeah Im talking to you underachieving Hurricanes.

The score. I'll give you one guess what it was. Guess. Come on. Ill help. It had zeros in it. As in 0-0. The entire GAME! And people around the world wonder why Americans hate soccer. We were there for 3 hours and no one scored. I could see the same thing hanging out with my old partner Joe in Santa Monica on a sat night. GET IT JOE? Word play. Ha.

But seriously. Soccer is boring. The fans are awesome. The fireworks, dangerous and cool. But soccer. Eh. Whatever.

In the end, the game came down to a shoot out. Sabrina was correct when asking, "three hours of nothing and it comes down to this? Why didnt they do this from the begginning?" Indeed, my well endowed friend, why indeed.

The Negative:

It was soccer.

Oh and did I mention...THERE WAS NO ALCOHOL ALLOWED OR SOLD IN THE STADIUM!!!! As in completely dry. Nothing. Nada. No alcohol.

Can you believe this?

So let me get this straight. I'm supposed to sit through 3 hours of guys running back and forth across a field, without a damn point scored...without alcohol?

I hardly do anything without alcohol..I'm serious..I was doing my laundry last week wasted and i passed out in the laundry basket for half the day.

Un-bee-lievable.

In the end it was a really great experience, and I had a blast. I swear I had a great time and would totally do it again. Next time, I'll mainline some heroin before I walk through the turnstiles. Either that or down a six pack of Zima.

Goooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllll!!!!!!!!!!

Carnival pre and post alcohol

2010-02-12T12:07:00.000-08:00

PART 1: 18:35 PM Friday

Welp its here. Carnival starts today, and as I sit here in my underwear with AC blasting on my slightly sunburned legs I can't help but wonder what the reality of it all will be like.

I've been anticipating it for weeks and now its here. I half expect a party to break out in the elevator on the way down to the front door of our place. But will it? Will it be as crazy as I think or have i over hyped it in my mind much like the Phantom Menace and the last 3 seasons of Hurricane football?

Will there be boobs?
Will there be lots and lots of boobs?
Will people be making out everywhere?
Will there be music?
Can i last until 7 in the morning if I start drinking now?
Can I last for 4 straight days of drinking?
Will I want to??
Will there be boobs?
Will the music take over the minds of hot women and make them make out with each other?
Will i need a costume?
Where will I pee?
What should I drink (the ciprianas give me acid reflux and the beer is weak as well water)
Will I dance or just stand there tapping my feet like I did at every middle school dance I went to (1)?
Will it be the wildest party I've ever been to, or more like Fantasy Fest in the Keys, where I expected naked hedonism and ended up sheilding my eyes from the sagging boobs and balls of 50 + year old moms, dads, and grandparents.
Will it be better than Burning Man? Better than Spring Break? Better than the season finale of Dexter?
What will it be like and most importantly will there be boobs?

There's only one way to find out...cheers!

PART II: 12:35 PM Saturday

Well Id like to say it was an insane party and somehow I managed my way on stage to perform my rendition of Ants Marching, but alas, it wasnt.
Id like to say i got so drunk i woke up wearing someone elses pants. But no. Im wearing mine.
Id like to say that we pretended to sing along to the samba songs and danced until sunrise. We didnt
We fought. Came home early.
Yippe.
Good thing theres always tonight.

I think I see a boobie

2010-02-08T16:34:00.000-08:00

For the last couple of years Ive watched the Superbowl on a 15 foot HD screen at my pal Lews Superbowl party.

He throws a great party. Free drinks. Best tri tip youve ever eaten, and did I mention the 15 foot HD screen?

Well this year I missed the party...because well you know...I'm in Rio.

Its at this point in the story I realize I have a problem.

I have a huge dependence on American football. I'm a junkie. I'll sleep with you if you have the Direct TV NFL package. Seriously wether you want me to or not. I'll do it.

So whats a junkie to do on Superbowl Sunday, when hes far from his supply, dealer, and any tv that will be showing the game?

Watch the entire thing on scrambled cable of course. Duh!

That's right I watched the entire superbowl from my apartment, on scrambled TV...thanks to my youth I'm extremely gifted at this.

The picture was waving this way and that and the audio was in spanish. Come to think of it I could have actually been watching reruns of Gossip Girl. Not quite sure.

Congrats to the Houston Texans on their victory. I think it was them.

Fav pics from Foz de Iguacu

2010-02-08T05:51:00.000-08:00

Click here for more.

Hot Hot Heat

2010-02-05T05:31:00.001-08:00

Brazil is hot. From the moment i stepped off the bus I could feel the change. Heat so hot you feel like you're wearing it as a coat. It weighs on you. Surrounds you. Makes it hard to breathe. Your lungs work, hard, to take in the nearly 100% humidity.

Fast forward to Rio and add a sun that literally feels like its a few feet away from you. This is what living on the sun is like.

Nights are hotter than the day for some strange reason. Its as if the wind stops blowing and the heat is just trapped in the city. Sitting on you like an elephant. Stale stagnant air. You sweat while you sleep. AC is a must. We tried not using it a night. That experiment ended at 4am.

But it's great. The heat is amazing. It makes you feel alive, even though it feels like its killing you. The beads of sweat trickling down your body while you sit in the shade. The burning sensation of your skin. The tanned bodies everywhere, just reminds you that you're not sitting at a desk anymore. The flourescent sun replaced by the real one.

Its a great feeling.

Fav Pics from Iguazu Falls

2010-02-03T06:21:00.001-08:00

Click here for waterfalls and rainbows....not kidding.

I love places where the only thing that happens is weather.

2010-02-02T14:12:00.000-08:00

Wealth, not poverty, is what's shocking.

2010-02-02T14:06:00.000-08:00

This is a lesson I learned unexpectantly on the ride from to Bolivia to Argentina. Sitting on a comfortbale bus watching Star Trek with the AC blasting, I turned my attention to the world outside if only for a brief moment.
What was vast stretches of land, houses made of salt, kids playing shoeless in the streets, was now replaced with mega marts, paved roads and mansions that spanned the length of entire towns.

When did wealth become so shocking? Streets lined with cars. Neighborhoods sliced into sections like those at home. Street lights. Cross walks.

Where were the lamas in the road? Or the cities that lost power during the slightest rain storm?

I couldn't believe how much this affected me, watching from my cushioned bus chair with my shoeless feet propped up on the foot rest. It was like I'd landed on the moon.
I quickly realized that wealth, not poverty, takes some getting used to. I figure if you're born in the middle of the Bolivian salt flats with nothing but a soccer ball and a goat, you learn to live the most rewarding life you can with your soccer ball and your goat.

It's funny how quickly your perception changes of what is defined as "nice". In the states a "nice" hotel for me was at least 4 stars. It was not called a motel. Had to have cable, AC, a comfortable bed (preferably a dream matress), a rain shower, a pool, a sauna, a gym, jacuzzi (that I may or may not use), an in room snack bar (which I would def not use), a complimentary bathrobe, a tv in the bathroom, and oh about 10 other things.
Now, a "nice" hotel for me is one that has a bed, won't flood while I'm asleep, and isn't over run by scorpions or other creatures of the night.

Forget the dream bed. Give me a rice bag filled with hay and I'll sleep for 10 hours.

Forget the AC (well give it to me if you have it) but just give me a room that has a roof on it.

Forget the shower. Shit I don't even shower anymore so it doesnt matter.

But that's exactly my point. You don't need what you don't have.

These folks here know that, or they don't know that, which might be even better. Ignorance is bliss.

Its amazing the smiles Ive seen. Kids smiling while they kick a rolled up piece of paper through make shift goals. Kids swinging from trees as they use sticks and their imaginations to pretend they're transformers...not some $30 toy from toys r us...a stick...for free...from the earth.
People laughing out loud eating from carts on the side of the street, or from in the walls of their cinder blocked house. No AC. No Direct Tv. No nothing. Just them and their laughter.

P uts things in perspective real fast.

Turns out I don't need Direct TV...and it absolutely kills me to say that.

Fav Salta Pics

2010-01-31T14:34:00.000-08:00

Because you know you love my pictures.

Fav Salt Flat pics

2010-01-31T14:17:00.000-08:00

Pretty much all of them...amazing place.

Click here for more.

Fav Bolivia Pics

2010-01-31T14:09:00.000-08:00

Click here

Beer Review numero 2: Bolivia

2010-01-28T13:56:00.000-08:00

It's hard to imagine beer sucking. I mean, it's done so much for me in my life. It's always there for me when I need a friend to talk to or one that will make me vomit on my shoes.

I guess in traveling you're bound to find everything, and on this stint of our beer journey I found the worst beer I've ever had. That's right, Bolivia will now be known worldwide as having poor beer and frighteningly slow internet.

Was it the WORST beer I've ever had? No. I've tasted worse. What made this beer so bad was that it didn't seem to be trying. You know like the fat son of a hall of fame football player who just sits on the couch all day watching cop dramas and eating his belly button lint, this beer was a monumental underachiever.
Saying it tasted like water would be doing a diservice to the fine bottled waters here.

So here it is. Bolivia's not so great pee water beers.

Huari Pilsener:

The most memorable thing about this beer is that it seem to have a doppleganger. There was another beer hanging around Bolivia, that had the exact same label but had a different name. Was this Huari's evil twin? Was there a printing error? Was the altitude so strong I was hallucinating?

Not sure, but regardless of what label came on this beer, in the end, it didnt matter. Call it God's Golden Nipple Nectar for all I care. It just wouldn't matter.
This beer was terrible. No flavor what so ever. Never cold. And always came with a thick, I mean thick head of foam that would never go away. It was like dishwashing liquid.

I probably could make a better beer in the shower using shampoo, warm water, and the pubes that get stuck to the soap.

Bock:

Can something be good just because everything you compare it to is absolute horse shit? Well if so, then this was the best beer in Bolivia.
Again, no flavor found here. A weird never ending foam hat, hovering over the bland beer below, and worst of all barely enough alcohol to get an eleven year old drunk.
So very dissapointing.

Well, there you have it. Bolivia, in a few short paragraphs. What did we learn today? That when you're a lazy beer maker who cant be bothered to try and make a beer that tastes somewhat like beer, the world will end up hating you.

Lesson learned.

Next up, Argentina. Home of Wine, cows, dead cows, cooked cows, more wine, and maybe just maybe some good beer.

Salud.

Beer review #1 Peru

2010-01-21T06:34:00.000-08:00

I figure this blog should try its best to impart some wisdom on the people of the world, not just make them laugh. I think my Irish lineage and countless trips to the emergency room due to excessive drinking make me somewhat of a expert on all things alcohol.

So here it is. My first of many global beer reviews.
*reviews best viewed with buzz on so go grab a cold one.

Peru- Land of Altitude and pretty tasty beers.

So maybe it was because it was the first beer we had on the trip, or because we were really thristy, or because I love beer so much you could put horse piss in a cup and call it a micro brew and I'd happily down it, BUT man these beers tasted good.

THE BEST OF THE BUNCH:

Cusquena Malta.

Just like I like my beers, dark, chocolatey, cold as hell, and pack with 5.2% alcohol. This beer was mighty tasty. While dark it wasn't heavy, at really cold temps it drank just like a pilsner. The chocolatey/coffee finish was amazing. Loved every sip, and at high altitude you pack 2 of these bad boys away and you're starting to feel like St. San Francisco himself (thats a Peruvian culture joke, and it's not very funny.)

THE OTHER DARK BEER:

Pilsen Polar

I was really excited to drink this beer. The label has a Polar Bear on it, nuff said. But alas, this must have been one of those Polar Bears that enjoys killing seals and drinking shitty beers because this one left a little to be desired. Maybe it's because Cusquena Malta is so damn good, but Pilsen Polar just didnt cut it. It had a very bitter taste, and didn't have the coffee/chocolate notes I liked so much in Cusquena.

THE LIGHTER SIDE OF PERU:

Cusquena Pilsner

This is a marathon drinking beer, both because you can drink alot of them and also because it's so refreshing I could imagine drinking one after actually running a marathon...that is if I did that sort of thing...I think they call it excercising.

It's a light beer, but doesn't taste like a Miller Light. Has some taste to it, and man when it's cold its delicious.

A LITTLE TASTE OF HOME:

Brahma

This was the beer of choice at our hostel. It's pretty tasty but you can get it in the States so I'm not going to spend too much time on it. Lacks a punch in the alcohol department, but their calendar girls are muy caliente!

OFF TO BOLIVIA. SALUD!

Huey Lewis is alive and well

2010-01-20T18:49:00.001-08:00

Not to worry kids. Apparently both Huey and the News are huge in Peru.

We took Peru Rail to Lake Titicaca. The train ride took 9 hours. "Power of Love" was played 4 times. "Heart and Soul" a whopping 6 times.

Thats 10 Huey hits in 9 hours!!!!

Patrick Bateman: Do you like Huey Lewis and the news?
Paul Allen: They're OK.
Patrick Bateman: Their early work was a little too new wave for my tastes, but when Sports came out in '83, I think they really came into their own, commercial and artistically. The whole album has a clear, crisp sound, and a new sheen of consummate professionalism that really gives the songs a big boost. He's been compared to Elvis Costello, but I think Huey has a far much more bitter, cynical sense of humour.
Paul Allen: Hey Halberstram.
Patrick Bateman: Yes, Allen?
Paul Allen: Why are their copies of the style section all over the place, d-do you have a dog? A little chow or something?
Patrick Bateman: No, Allen.
Paul Allen: Is that a rain coat?
Patrick Bateman: Yes it is! In '87, Huey released this, Fore, their most accomplished album. I think their undisputed masterpiece is "Hip to be Square", a song so catchy, most people probably don't listen to the lyrics. But they should, because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity, and the importance of trends, it's also a personal statement about the band itself.
[raises axe above head]
Patrick Bateman: Hey Paul!
[he bashes Allen in the head with the axe, and blood splatters over him]
Patrick Bateman: TRY GETTING A RESERVATION AT DORSIA NOW YOU FUCKING STUPID BASTARD! YOU, FUCKING BASTARD!

4 Days of hiking and tons of pics

2010-01-20T18:41:00.000-08:00

click here to see more of my favorite pics like this mindblowing one....

Machu Picchu Pics