Progress

Foot peaks above my head during Standing Bow. Both sides.

Namaste

Kona, Hawai'i

Earlier this year, I was scheduled to be in Poland for my birthday...and who wouldn't want to spend their 33rd birthday in Warsaw? Sadly, this project was cancelled. So, with great reluctance, I booked another trip to Hawai'i, purposely planned around my birthday.

For those who don't know...Hawai'i is my home. No, I've never lived there (YET!), and I have no family on the islands, but it is where my soul lives. The Big Island frequently calls my name, beckoning me to return to refresh my spirit.

Every trip brings something new, something different. This year, I hands loads of energy (a bit of paradox considering most people take vacation to relax, to sleep, to recharge). I spend 10 of 11 days in the ocean, swimming with dolphins or practicing my surfing. The 11th day was spent driving and climbing the the North Kohala coast, breathing the fresh air with the Jeep top down, listening to opera music--allowing the music to become the soundtrack of the landscape.

Here are some other highlights:

• Feeling my first drop


• Spiny sea urchin stuck in foot (ouch!)


• Rising moon greeting me during a 9PM drive my final evening on the island


• Full moon on my birthday


• Thousands of stars--the eyes of angels--looking down on me each night


• A Hawaiian prayer and conch shell whistle at sundown on my birthday


• Dolphins...lots of Dolphins including babies. Getting hit in head by dolphin tail due to my close proximity to baby.


• Debs


• Bite Me Fish Market


• Triangle of green energy given to me by Debs at the Kona Brewing Company


• Perfect waves at Honokohau


• Surfing with a honu

Overheard Conversation

Location: Kona, Hawai'i

Time: 9 AM Local Time

Date: Early November

Context: A couple from Colorado is taking their first surfing lesson. The gentlemen's mother is sitting on shore, proudly watching her son and daughter-in-law as they learn to master the waves. The husband catches his first wave.

After paddling back out to the pit, he enthusiastically declares to his wife "Honey, I think we need a beach house." Wife, dead-pannedly, replies "ask your mother."

Progress

Proud Pigeon, Tibetan Camel, and Reclining Hero in a single day...after 11 other attempts.

San Jose, Costa Rica

I always forget how wonderfully serene this country is until I step off the plane. Taxis meander their way to the customer’s destination. Bromeliads line the sides of the streets. Fields of lush green grass as far as the imagination can ponder. Natives are genuinely interested in your business.

My hotel is fashioned after a Spanish Hacienda. It’s in the middle of no-where and that’s exactly why I love it. That….and the toilets with the perfect curvature to fit your bum…..and the red geraniums that line each buttermilk-coloured window box…and the brass fixtures found throughout….and Isabella—the Spanish tapas restaurant that makes your mouth water come dinner time.

The morning is my favourite time at the hotel. Not because the sun is up at 6AM or the howling monkeys often beat the sun. No, it’s the fresh brewed coffee and warm winter breeze (yes, it’s still considered winter here) on the Antigua terrace that makes for the perfect moment. I start with an appetizer of mango, followed by an entrée of watermelon, concluding with desert of pineapple. Meanwhile, the local squirrels conduct their dance…trying to sneak crumbs from the visitors while the wait staff delicately attempts to shoo them away without disrupting the breakfast of the guests. It’s a beautiful tango…a passionate relationship that often results in pushing and pulling and giving and taking.

It’s still the rainy season…so it rains EVERY day. And I mean buckets. The entire country is a tropical rainforest. The rain starts around 3 in the afternoon and is preceded by thunder equivalent to the synchronous rumblings of 1 million hungry stomachs. It’s unnerving yet welcomed in the same breath.

The country’s GDP is greatly dependent on the amount of rain received. This year has been light on rainfall and the rainy season will soon end in November. Small crop shares and hence trade opportunities for a country in which the average annual income is slightly less than 3,000 USD can prove devastating.

It's the peaceful quiet moments filled with the sounds of nature--criquets chirping, birds welcoming the warm rays of morning sunlight, and monkeys frantically calling--that make this country wonderful.

Falling in Love with Buenos Aires

I have returned to Argentina. My last visit in March consisted of zero exploration of the city. This time, thankfully, it was considerably cheaper for me to arrive Sunday morning, giving me the day to explore. I am very thankful to my friend and colleague—Fabian—for introducing me to more than just my hotel and our office.

Buenos Aires greeted me with refreshing cold air. It’s winter here, and I must confess, I’m loving it. I get to see my breath mysteriously appear before me as I walk to the office each day. I’m wearing a scarf, gloves, and a winter coat. Eating soup and finding warmth and comfort under the feather duvet have become welcomed nightly rituals. Recent snow storms in the south—Patagonia—have made headlines here. It’s the height of summer back home, and, upon my return, I fear I will melt in the triple digit heat.

Despite the winter weather, the city inhabitants enjoy the outdoors and cultural opportunities the city provides. “Around the block” lines to the zoo, museums, farmer’s market, the gaucho exhibition, and botanical gardens, are seen in various neighbourhoods. I love that the locals partake and enjoy what the city has to offer. Argentines spend their leisure time outside—despite the time of year or weather. I frequently witness families spending quality time outdoors together; lovers sharing a glass of wine and sneaking glances while sitting on a bridge, overlooking Puerto Madero. It’s the simple pleasures in life that, sadly, are not frequently encountered back home.

The city wears a distinctly European face. Tree-lined avenues lead past restaurants, cafes, boutiques, and galleries, many housed in French-style buildings. The city is littered with acres of parks, wooded areas, and lakes. Families flock here to picnic, bicycle, in-line skate, jog, or leisurely stroll—soaking in the warmth of the fiery sun. Many neighbourhoods house narrow cobblestone streets, high trees, and a particular kind of public candle light (faroles)...creating an atmosphere I can only image, reminiscent of a time and age which I am too young to know.

I also love that women and men can wear fur here, and it is not controversial. The struggle of nature versus man is very different here. Wildlife—especially horses and bovines—are central to the history, and thus the present, of the country. The land is worked just 20 kilometres outside the city centre, providing the freshest fruits, vegetables, and meats to the restaurants, vendors, and markets in Capital Federal.

The most flavourful beef one could ever imagine is here. I have never been a big beef eater, but I always get my share when visiting. There is no added sauce or spice. It’s a combination of naturally raised steers, good butchering, perfect aging (no freezing), and meticulous preparation for the modern-day Prometheus. And let’s not forget the sweetbreads (the thymus and pancreas glands of the cow).

Here are some additional fun facts I learned on my trip:

• Buenos Aires is 537 miles further than London from home


• The most important polo matches in the world are held in Buenos Aires. The city is a nerve centre for equestrian activities


• The earliest evidence of human activity dates to 11,000 BC


• The largest export is the soy bean…to China for soy sauce


• The Argentine Peso and the US Dollar were equally traded less than 15 years ago


• The city is home to one of the four most important Opera Houses in the world

Kona, Hawaii

See Casey find a hammock--hidden beneath two shady palm trees. See Casey nap in the hammock. See Casey abruptly wake--wondering if another application of sunscreen is necessary. See Casey go back to sleep. See Casey's skin turn pink in color.

See Casey driving up the Kohala Coast with the jeep top down, listening to the classical station--the perfect soundtrack to the landscape. See sheep, horses, cows, and goats. See Casey visit the local farmers' market in Waimea. See Casey purchase homemade rosemary bread. See the bread make it home--unscathed.

See Casey nap.

See Casey swim with wild dolphins. See Casey learn she can hear the dolphins before she sees the dolphins. See Casey develop a new strategy based on this learned information. See Casey swim close enough to touch the dolphins. See Casey sight a dolphin 10 meters beneath her. See Casey "double take" and realize that dolphin is a reef shark. See Casey swim towards the real dolphins. See Casey swim with a manta ray.

See Casey nap.

See Casey learn to surf. See Casey on the board. See Casey not on the board. See Casey get back on, off, on, off, on the board. See Casey up on the board--and back off. See Casey carve a wave (total accident--but it happened!). See Casey off the board. See Casey tired after 45 minutes...paddling and fighting waves is hard! See Casey thinking of a starting a new business: a jet ski "towing service" for surfers. See Casey back on board. See Casey go pearling (think saline nasal cleanse i.e. pearl diving). See Casey on and back up on board. See Casey saying the surfer's motto "refuse to fall" while up on board. See Casey fall...fall in love with surfing.

See Casey nap.

See Casey nap.

See Casey take another surfing lesson. See Casey up and on board more than off. See Casey turn and paddle more quickly. See board hit Casey's head (insert sound effect here). Hear Casey chant "refuse to fall." See Casey still on board.

See Casey nap.

See Casey surfing...again. See Casey's tan show the markings of wet socks and rash guard. See surfing become a new wave of enthusiasm. See Casey catch a wave on her own (no help from instructor). See Casey pop in the middle of waves. See Casey get confident. See bigger wave "knock sense" into Casey. See Casey's future hobby. See Casey give profuse thanks to surf instructor, Kona Mike.

See Casey nap.

See Casey leave the island with plans to return soon.

Strange(r) Assumptions

Columbus, Ohio

Mother’s Day is approaching this weekend. It’s a favourite holiday of mine, since I get to celebrate not 1, not 2, but 3 moms.

Starting last year—and apparently continuing this year—something odd started happening. Complete strangers began wishing me Happy Mother’s Day in the days preceding the celebratory event. Me—mother to zero. I’m not offended by this act of kindness (I simply smile, say thank you, and move on with my—non-Mother’s –day). My curiosity is piqued, however…why would a stranger assume I am a mother?

Do I look like a mother? Act like a mom? I frequently scowl at ill-behaved children who are allowed to grace a public locale. Is it because strangers automatically assume since I have reached child-bearing age I must HAVE offspring?

Though I’m pretty darn certain I will one day (not soon) have a child (adoption), I’m quite certain that today is not the day to celebrate me as a mother. Rather, it is a time to say Happy Mother’s Day to other 3 other special women. They iron out the wrinkles of life, still put me in time-out when necessary, and tell me to suck it up when the scratches of life do not yield blood.

Annoying Alarm Clocks

Being a frequent flyer, I've experienced all kinds of alarm clocks. The kind that buzz, the kind that ring, the kind that sing, the kind that don't ever go off (most likely due to human error). Well, in San Jose Costa Rica, I've experienced a new kind of early morning alarm. The sound of howling monkeys. That's right...live monkeys outside my hotel room have decided they are my personal rooster. I am unsure if they are calling the clan to eat or to celebrate the dawn of a new day. I do know that they wake me up at an un-godly hour.

Besides the monkeys, it's been an interesting week. There was the earthquake in Mexico, northeast of Cancun. Then the swine flu (now pandemic) that is sweeping the news (I've passed my 4-day possible incubation period since leaving Mexico, thank goodness). These may seem like everyday news events but I have staff in the city that are literally forced to work from their homes, trying to carry on business as if it is a normal day. People who are afraid to walk down the street for fear of possible death. It's an immediate fear you do not realize on TV news.

As previously mentioned, Mexico is my new priority, coupled with Brazil. Then, today, an instant message alerting me to the possibility of aiding the UK and/or Poland next month. This, on top of Mexico, and the US. I am quite certain that given a tierra, a cape, and a clone, I could make it happen.

Mexico City, Mexico

Ahhh...back to Mexico. It's the "real" Mexico, not the land of white-sand beaches, cool island breezes, and umbrellas swirling in the current of melting ice cubes in my afternoon beverage. Mexico has been dubbed my "new priority"....but then again, I got notice yesterday of the necessity of returning to Brazil. I need a clone. Apparently, I will be in Latin America until....well, until I hear otherwise.

From Seat 6A

I look out the window. Travelling east to Montreal. The fading sunset in the west-most window. The promise of night--of tomorrow--and a star-filled sky in the east-ward window. The future.--heading in its direction. What does it hold? Only tomorrow will tell.

1,000,746 Miles

Just logged into my AAdvantage account to book a ticket and noticed my life-time earned miles. Holy Doodles Batman!

Buenos Aires, Argentina

It is late summer here. Approximately 27C degrees each day. Then there’s the humidity. It’s heavy in the morning, causing the 4-block walk to the office to turn into brief episode of sweat. The humidity lifts by mid day and we are greeted with the pleasant aromas of food wafting through the sidewalks that border the restaurants selling their goods.
Argentina is known for its beef. I landed 100 hours ago and already have had my ration of red meat for the next three months. It’s better than the Argentine beef I frequently consumed while in Brazil. In addition to the traditional cuts of meat, I partook in consuming sweetbreads, kidneys, and other various innards. Then there is the wine. The most expensive bottle in the supermarket will cost me 30 ARS (Approximately $10 USD). This bottle would cost me more than $90 back home—I’ve seen it on the rack but have not splurged. It’s wonderful…a true delight at day’s end to sit by the hotel pool, pour myself a glass (or two), enjoy the late setting sun, looking out at the city beyond.
Buenos Aires has been called the “Paris of South America.” To be honest, it’s not quite Paris, but it is close. Many parts remind me of the Rio de Janerio neighbourhood called Lapa. There’s classic architecture with ornate windows, statues, and sconces, surrounded by the modern hustle and bustle of any major metropolitan city—the subway station’s ebb and flow of people, the busy streets filled with the rhythmic hum of traffic, the distant sound of sirens quickly moving through the streets, the graffiti artist’s latest work proudly displayed for all to enjoy.
Then there the keys. Yes, as in lock and key. They are old fashioned skeleton keys, quaint and wonderful in an old-world sort of way. The double-pronged squares jut out of long cylinder, anchored at the opposite end by a distorted circle. Gently, you place the key inside its mate lock, and turn. In truth, there is nothing different about the process used with the lasered keys I am accustomed to, but the old fashioned keys intrigue me. The simplicity, the remembrance of different age and different time.
48 more hours to enjoy the late summer in Buenos Aires. It beats the winter coat and boots I was wearing last week in Toronto and the fierce wind I will face in Omaha, Nebraska next week.

New Year's Resolutions

Since the start of the year, I've had many people ask what my resolutions for the New Year are. I feel strongly about resolutions. They are just that, what one wants to resolve.

NYRs (New Year's Resolutions) fail too frequently for two main reasons. First, we so often spout wants without placing much time, thought, care, reflection, or worry into how to change. In some cases, we do not recognize that change is necessary. Not only must one dig deep into how to resolve, one must come to the core of what is wrong. You cannot fix until you have identified what is broken. This should be a deep soul-searching process, as answers to the questions of why often lead to other and deeper question of why which begs more answers...peeling back the layers of the onion.

The second reason for failed NYRs is lack of execution--not lack of planning, but of execution. We plan or intend to change our habits, but then life proceeds and we conveniently forget the promise we made to ourselves at the beginning of the year. It's important to write down resolutions, to ask yourself the hard questions, to find the answers, to plan change, and to execute change. Intentions are meaningless.

Well, now that it is 11 days into the new year, I can confidently say I have my resolutions. I dug deep to reveal the whys behind my human behavior, and have created a monthly action plan. They are written in my journal. Perhaps as the year progresses and as I make progress against these resolutions, I will reveal them.

What I will share are song lyrics I happened upon shortly after the New Year. The lyrics express everything I want to do/experience not just this year, but in the years that lay ahead. Written and arranged by Brendan James.

All I Can See
I want to walk through this doorway
I want to open my mind
I want to pledge my allegiance to
all I can find

I want a car that will crash through the barrier
to a road no one knows
I want to feel less control more abandon
I want to land far from home

(chorus) The revolution of the earth around the sun is a perfect lesson of how it should be
So if I can I'll learn to journey and return to never rest til I've seen all I can see

I want to learn a completely new language, one I don't understand
I want to help someone lost someone helpless with strength of my hands
I want to come to the base of a statue built before they counted the years
And there I'll fall with my face in my hands and cry and feel their hope in my tears

(chorus)

Train rides and pastures colliding, colors and customs I've never seen
I know I, yes I know I, I will stumble but
time is precious my friend

For those who journey can easily understand the more they see the more they'll
learn, the more that they can be
So this I swear to you, and this I swear to me
I'll never rest 'til I've seen all I can see
No I'll never rest 'til I've seen all I can see

I want to know where the strength of a person lies, in their past or their future
Is it in the way that they hurt or they love themselves, or is it all an illusion
I want to crawl from this skin that I'm painted in body please let it give
I want to find the creator of all good things and ask what means to live