Friday, April 24, 2009
Israel day 1
Today was a rather uneventful day, after the initial waking up and realizing huh, ohhhhhhh ya, I'm in Israel, completely alone! I planned on a super productive day, made it to breakfast before they broke it down, and had my second kosher meal in a row. There was a marathon going on outside the breakfast window that overlooked the beach. Not a bad view. I eventually made it back upstairs after a second helping of the Meditteranean salad (which as of tonight I have had with my meal 3 times in a row) and that was when my confusion started. Apparently Friday is the start of Shabbat (which is the same as sabbath, as we know it). In short, and most importantly, this means that no one actually works on Fridays, nor Saturdays. But Sunday does in fact have normal business hours. I finally figured out how exactly it worked when a bunch of phone calls proved just about completely fruitless and there was no one to fix my impossible to open mini-bar. (No I wasn't going for an afternoon cerveza, just a water). But, well, I may as well have been because I had little I could get done anyways. I planned to head out to a mall, but they all closed early as well (4pm was the latest I could find, and it was 2:30 by this time.) So, I took my own Shabbat and took a 2 hour nap. The restaurant wasn't open tonight because of Shabbat, and neither was the gym. I had quite a long time to organize all the stuff that I was GOING to do once everyone stopped their weekly rest. Tomorrow, one of the malls I need to go to claims to open at 10 am, so hopefully I will have more luck then.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Trip #3 - starting with Israel
So, here goes trip three. It's only my third trip, but it still is getting harder to leave everytime. (I actually left twice during my last trip...) Maybe the depressing rain and my really crazy cab driver who almost hit a very annoyed bike rider en route to the airport had something to do with it this time. But, I think the beginning of the beautiful weather is what really made it so hard. There's nothing like watching the world warm up around you at home, and unfortunately - I only got a taste of it. I determined that Spring is my favorite time of year, and I won't be in New England to enjoy it this year since I won't be home until June. It's always hardest before I actually arrive in my first location. Then the madness and the awe of being somewhere so different starts and I don't really have time to think about what I'm missing back at home.
Things started getting interesting the moment I arrived at my terminal in Atlanta, Georgia. Not too surprising, but I was literally surrounded by hacidic jews. The big top hats and curly cues of hair in the front, young mothers who were all wearing glasses and black outfits with skirts, and little babies in nightgown-like dress. I am pretty sure that this is the only flight I will have ever been on where they come over the loudspeaker and announce that someone lost a small white prayer book entering the plane, so please contact the flight attendant if it was yours. Furthermore, I have 1) never been surrounded by so many hacidic jews at once (despite living in Brookline...) 2) never been on a flight where more people ordered kosher meals than the regular ones and 3)never seen so many babies on one flight. This part in particular made me nervous for an 11.5 hour flight. My seat just happened to be in the very back - I had a very large man to my left (I couldn't use my left handrest) and a third-grader on my right. She is actually an Israeli citizen but spoke english just like an American. She sure was sharp for a third-grader. She started telling me religious stories, religious differences between jews and christians, etc. Stuff I didn't know at all. Unfortunately, she talked quietly and I had a hard time hearing everything, but I sure was impressed with her religious knowledge.
I passed out eventually on my tray table which seemed to be the best option. My little friend to my right used my arm and shoulder for a pillow here and there. Turbulence was pretty bad about 3 hours into the flight, but I took relief in thinking that if God was going to bring down a plane tonight, it probably wouldn't be one full of rabbis. The large man to my left (an American also coming here for work) told me that while I was sleeping, all the men all got up at the same time, grabbed their bibles/prayer books, and began praying at the same time. I wished I had seen this.
Security entering Israel was not what I expected it to be from stories of other people who have come here. Before getting on the plane in Atlanta, I did need to go through one more scanning process with my carry-on baggage, but upon arrival, passport authority was a breeze. They wanted to know why I was there, but as soon as I explained it was all good. I felt like between the time I arrived at the airport and left it, only about 10-15 minutes had actually passed.
Once arriving at the hotel, I looked beat, I felt beat, and I took a nap. Now, it's only 7:20 pm back in Boston (but 2:20 am here...) and I'm thinkin it's probably about time that I try to get to bed. I ordered room service but the only thing on the menu was a tuna salad, which wasn't actually too bad, but not something I would normally order. My hotel is right on the beach. It's also required to be kosher. I had been told once what this meant, but I needed to refresh my memory: http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_does_Kosher_mean
I believe, but am not absolutely positive, that here, weekends are Friday and Saturday, with the work week actually starting on Sunday in Israel. I need to try to speak with realtors this weekend so it will be interesting to see if this will end up an issue. I will soon find out. I'm gonna try to sleep now. Goodnight!
Things started getting interesting the moment I arrived at my terminal in Atlanta, Georgia. Not too surprising, but I was literally surrounded by hacidic jews. The big top hats and curly cues of hair in the front, young mothers who were all wearing glasses and black outfits with skirts, and little babies in nightgown-like dress. I am pretty sure that this is the only flight I will have ever been on where they come over the loudspeaker and announce that someone lost a small white prayer book entering the plane, so please contact the flight attendant if it was yours. Furthermore, I have 1) never been surrounded by so many hacidic jews at once (despite living in Brookline...) 2) never been on a flight where more people ordered kosher meals than the regular ones and 3)never seen so many babies on one flight. This part in particular made me nervous for an 11.5 hour flight. My seat just happened to be in the very back - I had a very large man to my left (I couldn't use my left handrest) and a third-grader on my right. She is actually an Israeli citizen but spoke english just like an American. She sure was sharp for a third-grader. She started telling me religious stories, religious differences between jews and christians, etc. Stuff I didn't know at all. Unfortunately, she talked quietly and I had a hard time hearing everything, but I sure was impressed with her religious knowledge.
I passed out eventually on my tray table which seemed to be the best option. My little friend to my right used my arm and shoulder for a pillow here and there. Turbulence was pretty bad about 3 hours into the flight, but I took relief in thinking that if God was going to bring down a plane tonight, it probably wouldn't be one full of rabbis. The large man to my left (an American also coming here for work) told me that while I was sleeping, all the men all got up at the same time, grabbed their bibles/prayer books, and began praying at the same time. I wished I had seen this.
Security entering Israel was not what I expected it to be from stories of other people who have come here. Before getting on the plane in Atlanta, I did need to go through one more scanning process with my carry-on baggage, but upon arrival, passport authority was a breeze. They wanted to know why I was there, but as soon as I explained it was all good. I felt like between the time I arrived at the airport and left it, only about 10-15 minutes had actually passed.
Once arriving at the hotel, I looked beat, I felt beat, and I took a nap. Now, it's only 7:20 pm back in Boston (but 2:20 am here...) and I'm thinkin it's probably about time that I try to get to bed. I ordered room service but the only thing on the menu was a tuna salad, which wasn't actually too bad, but not something I would normally order. My hotel is right on the beach. It's also required to be kosher. I had been told once what this meant, but I needed to refresh my memory: http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_does_Kosher_mean
I believe, but am not absolutely positive, that here, weekends are Friday and Saturday, with the work week actually starting on Sunday in Israel. I need to try to speak with realtors this weekend so it will be interesting to see if this will end up an issue. I will soon find out. I'm gonna try to sleep now. Goodnight!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Home Sweet Home
Before I left to go to Africa, I was completely convinced that I would be losing weight because they don't eat in Africa, right? Unfortunately, I was very wrong. I gained 5 pounds this trip. Ironically - I lost weight during my first trip when I went to Europe. Who would have known!
Coming home was wonderful, as it always is after a long trip. This one wasn't very long though, it had only been 3 weeks since I had been home for the week after not going to Madagascar because of the political problems they were having. My favorite moment of the next 2 months is always when we finally touch down on the Boston runway. I love seeing the skyline in the distance and knowing that as fun as the last month was, there is no better feeling than being home safely.
Well, friends - ta ta until next week; when I will be heading off into Israel, Croatia, Lithuania and Slovakia for the next 6 weeks. It has been a really great, but very short, 6 weeks at home and seeing everyone. Keep checking the blog. Oh and please, don't wish me a safe flight. I hate when people do that!
LOVE YOU!!
-Lauren B, Travel Junky
Coming home was wonderful, as it always is after a long trip. This one wasn't very long though, it had only been 3 weeks since I had been home for the week after not going to Madagascar because of the political problems they were having. My favorite moment of the next 2 months is always when we finally touch down on the Boston runway. I love seeing the skyline in the distance and knowing that as fun as the last month was, there is no better feeling than being home safely.
Well, friends - ta ta until next week; when I will be heading off into Israel, Croatia, Lithuania and Slovakia for the next 6 weeks. It has been a really great, but very short, 6 weeks at home and seeing everyone. Keep checking the blog. Oh and please, don't wish me a safe flight. I hate when people do that!
LOVE YOU!!
-Lauren B, Travel Junky
The fun stuff
While in Costa Rica, I was lucky enough to have 2 full days of fun.
For my first, I went white water rafting. We spent about one hour and picked up people from all different hotels in the area. (One group was a bunch of girls that I met who were there on a yoga retreat high up in the hills away from San Jose, how cool is that??) It took about 2 hours just to get there.. over the river and through the woods (these woods were actually the rainforest) and there were a ton of trucks on the pathway, this was one of the routes used to transport the country's exports. Between the way there and the way back, I saw three huge overturned trucks along this route. Quite a sight - and no policemen/firetrucks anywhere to be seen to help out.
They served us breakfast when we got there and then we geared up to head out. It was a scary ride. There were 8 people to a raft and we needed to follow our guide's instructions at all times. During the first few rapids, I was very nervous. There wasn't much aside from my feet keeping me on the tube but we, as a team, were starting to get ahold of the routine and work together. Or so we thought. All of a sudden on one of the tough rapids, I don't know what happened, I just knew I was about to hit the water; I was knocked all the way over to the other side of the tube - and braced to go under. Once in the water, I realized how hard it was to try and swim. But, I wasn't even suppose to swim. I was suppose to wait to be rescued. I took in as much air as I could in between the waves and tried to keep my feet in front of me and above water and prayed that I wouldn't be going over any major rapids anytime soon. I was rescued quickly - all 7 of us including my guide were, but... we still had a long way to go once we got back in and situated. And even though I was scared, there was a poor girl in the raft that was much worse off than me. She whimpered without consciously realizing it every time before we went over a rapid. We did end up getting back with only one toss on record. My guide said that was one of the very few times he actually fell in himself. The whole ride was certainly was a rush, though; and it was beautiful - in the middle of the rainforest, with canopies and waterfalls everywhere. I saw a wild toucan and we also saw some of the indigenous indians who live in the rainforest - they were crossing over the river via a rope line and a bucket tied to trees between the river. My only complaint was that it was a bit cold, and rainy, but - I have some great pictures from this adventure, which I keep forgetting to post!
During my second trip, we went out to the island of Tortuga off the coast of Costa Rica - we took a long bus ride out to the coast, but at least we had a great guide - who took a liking to me. If I remember correctly, he actually grew up mostly in the US and partially in Costa Rica, and moved back to CR because he loved it so much. I met Ronnie on this particular adventure. A really nice guy who couldn't speak or understand much english, which was difficult for him because everyone else were english speakers, so he lost out on the translation most of the time. I was just about the only other person aside from our guide and driver who spoke spanish, go figure. So, we became friends. We took a very lovely yacht out to the island, and I had myself a couple of very yummy tropical cocktails. I got a picture or two with the captain, some beautiful pictures, and I even saw a whale and a school of dolphins (we tried chasing them both for a while). The island was absolutely beautiful. It was private and wildlife protected. We saw many different birds, including a pet parrot who had a free-range of the island, but he was perfectly happy in his little house getting a ton of attention. I saw deer as well. I went snorkeling and had many colorful fish following me around eating out of the palm of my hand. This, was truly paradise. We had a nice picnic and I took in some sun. The water was beautiful. Unfortunately, because of the time that it took to get there and get home, we only stayed on the island itself for 4.5 hours; it was over much too quickly.
For my first, I went white water rafting. We spent about one hour and picked up people from all different hotels in the area. (One group was a bunch of girls that I met who were there on a yoga retreat high up in the hills away from San Jose, how cool is that??) It took about 2 hours just to get there.. over the river and through the woods (these woods were actually the rainforest) and there were a ton of trucks on the pathway, this was one of the routes used to transport the country's exports. Between the way there and the way back, I saw three huge overturned trucks along this route. Quite a sight - and no policemen/firetrucks anywhere to be seen to help out.
They served us breakfast when we got there and then we geared up to head out. It was a scary ride. There were 8 people to a raft and we needed to follow our guide's instructions at all times. During the first few rapids, I was very nervous. There wasn't much aside from my feet keeping me on the tube but we, as a team, were starting to get ahold of the routine and work together. Or so we thought. All of a sudden on one of the tough rapids, I don't know what happened, I just knew I was about to hit the water; I was knocked all the way over to the other side of the tube - and braced to go under. Once in the water, I realized how hard it was to try and swim. But, I wasn't even suppose to swim. I was suppose to wait to be rescued. I took in as much air as I could in between the waves and tried to keep my feet in front of me and above water and prayed that I wouldn't be going over any major rapids anytime soon. I was rescued quickly - all 7 of us including my guide were, but... we still had a long way to go once we got back in and situated. And even though I was scared, there was a poor girl in the raft that was much worse off than me. She whimpered without consciously realizing it every time before we went over a rapid. We did end up getting back with only one toss on record. My guide said that was one of the very few times he actually fell in himself. The whole ride was certainly was a rush, though; and it was beautiful - in the middle of the rainforest, with canopies and waterfalls everywhere. I saw a wild toucan and we also saw some of the indigenous indians who live in the rainforest - they were crossing over the river via a rope line and a bucket tied to trees between the river. My only complaint was that it was a bit cold, and rainy, but - I have some great pictures from this adventure, which I keep forgetting to post!
During my second trip, we went out to the island of Tortuga off the coast of Costa Rica - we took a long bus ride out to the coast, but at least we had a great guide - who took a liking to me. If I remember correctly, he actually grew up mostly in the US and partially in Costa Rica, and moved back to CR because he loved it so much. I met Ronnie on this particular adventure. A really nice guy who couldn't speak or understand much english, which was difficult for him because everyone else were english speakers, so he lost out on the translation most of the time. I was just about the only other person aside from our guide and driver who spoke spanish, go figure. So, we became friends. We took a very lovely yacht out to the island, and I had myself a couple of very yummy tropical cocktails. I got a picture or two with the captain, some beautiful pictures, and I even saw a whale and a school of dolphins (we tried chasing them both for a while). The island was absolutely beautiful. It was private and wildlife protected. We saw many different birds, including a pet parrot who had a free-range of the island, but he was perfectly happy in his little house getting a ton of attention. I saw deer as well. I went snorkeling and had many colorful fish following me around eating out of the palm of my hand. This, was truly paradise. We had a nice picnic and I took in some sun. The water was beautiful. Unfortunately, because of the time that it took to get there and get home, we only stayed on the island itself for 4.5 hours; it was over much too quickly.
Last, but ABSOLUTELY not least... Costa Rica!!
I had a great flight in. First, I was still drunk while boarding the plane, so I didn't have my normal flight fear. Second, I was seated in first class even in my ratty clothes I wore. Third, I was on the way to Costa Rica!! It was a very smooth flight, and as soon as I woke up from my brief nap, breakfast was brought over to me along with, "is there anything else you need, very important lady?" Well, it didn't go quite that way, but that's how I felt.
I spent a few hours of that day in bed. Still hungover. I wasn't going to drink again for a long while. I didn't start working on the Costa Rica survey itself until the next day.
I went in to a Kenneth Cole one day and one of the employees offered to give me a printout of all of the inventory with the prices and even sign it at the bottom. I still wonder if they realized what exactly I was there for... I was thinking maybe they mistook me for a global manager of Kenneth Cole or something, but I had no problem with it. I was very thankful! I didn't even need to look at the prices they just told them to me automatically.
I did some work, but mostly had fun. My hotel (Courtyard Marriot) was located in a plaza with a ton of amazing restaurants, from sushi, to peruvian, cuban, italian, argentinian, etc. etc. I ate at the peruvian place and the cuban place AND a sushi place, and it was all amazing. I had soft kernals of unpopped popcorn at the peruvian place, and it was so wonderful. My taxi driver took me out to dinner at a place where everyone was dressed in 50's clothes and they served typical Costa Rican food. He kept asking if I had a boyfriend, if I ever had a boyfriend from someone I met traveling, and when I said no and no, he asked if I like girls, no... he just couldn't understand why I didn't have a boyfriend. I told him that's not unusual at my age in the United States. I agreed to go out dancing with him one night to a club downtown, and it was a great time. He taught me a few different types of typical spanish dances, and then of course, tried to make out with me while sitting at a table where everyone around us was making out (not unusual for other cultures) and I had to politely back away. Apparently he was hoping to become my boyfriend before I left Costa Rica. I appreciated the free taxi rides but explained that no I'm sorry, that's just not going to work out. He seemed pretty determined that it would before I left the country. As fun as it was, I obviously made it a point not to see him again!
While in Costa Rica, I also met another guy who was just wonderful. He was older, I never found out exactly how old (maybe my senior by 10-15 years?) - but he was the regional director for a company that creates tastes and smells for food companies; the largest client of theirs which is Kraft. I thought his job was pretty amazing, given my love for food. He was Columbian. He was polite, professional, and entertaining. We met one day while working downstairs in the lobby - it was 10 at night and we both had our computers open working away. The only ones there in the restaurant (restaurant was in the lobby). We started talking across tables, and he eventually joined me for a beer. After about 20 minutes, we both needed to head to bed, so we decided to meet up the next night to grab some drinks and keep chatting. I think that I had a mini non-sexual crush on him, or maybe I had a crush on his job, I'm not sure which - which I realized when at some point I noticed that I had a hard time not smiling when talking to him. We were so much alike; we both loved food and to travel, and our conversation never got awkward. He really enjoyed practicing his english - he spoke well but frequently got caught up on difficult words. The next night we were up until 1 am eating sushi and drinking mojitos, chatting away about our completely different lives that surprisingly were alike in so many small ways, and when we parted, it was like old friends saying goodbye, I'll see you next time. We both appreciated meeting good people and having great conversations while on our travels and I think that made our connection as strong as it was. Plus, he told me that he heard me speaking spanish apparently "without an accent". That definitely gave him some brownie points in my book!
I spent a few hours of that day in bed. Still hungover. I wasn't going to drink again for a long while. I didn't start working on the Costa Rica survey itself until the next day.
I went in to a Kenneth Cole one day and one of the employees offered to give me a printout of all of the inventory with the prices and even sign it at the bottom. I still wonder if they realized what exactly I was there for... I was thinking maybe they mistook me for a global manager of Kenneth Cole or something, but I had no problem with it. I was very thankful! I didn't even need to look at the prices they just told them to me automatically.
I did some work, but mostly had fun. My hotel (Courtyard Marriot) was located in a plaza with a ton of amazing restaurants, from sushi, to peruvian, cuban, italian, argentinian, etc. etc. I ate at the peruvian place and the cuban place AND a sushi place, and it was all amazing. I had soft kernals of unpopped popcorn at the peruvian place, and it was so wonderful. My taxi driver took me out to dinner at a place where everyone was dressed in 50's clothes and they served typical Costa Rican food. He kept asking if I had a boyfriend, if I ever had a boyfriend from someone I met traveling, and when I said no and no, he asked if I like girls, no... he just couldn't understand why I didn't have a boyfriend. I told him that's not unusual at my age in the United States. I agreed to go out dancing with him one night to a club downtown, and it was a great time. He taught me a few different types of typical spanish dances, and then of course, tried to make out with me while sitting at a table where everyone around us was making out (not unusual for other cultures) and I had to politely back away. Apparently he was hoping to become my boyfriend before I left Costa Rica. I appreciated the free taxi rides but explained that no I'm sorry, that's just not going to work out. He seemed pretty determined that it would before I left the country. As fun as it was, I obviously made it a point not to see him again!
While in Costa Rica, I also met another guy who was just wonderful. He was older, I never found out exactly how old (maybe my senior by 10-15 years?) - but he was the regional director for a company that creates tastes and smells for food companies; the largest client of theirs which is Kraft. I thought his job was pretty amazing, given my love for food. He was Columbian. He was polite, professional, and entertaining. We met one day while working downstairs in the lobby - it was 10 at night and we both had our computers open working away. The only ones there in the restaurant (restaurant was in the lobby). We started talking across tables, and he eventually joined me for a beer. After about 20 minutes, we both needed to head to bed, so we decided to meet up the next night to grab some drinks and keep chatting. I think that I had a mini non-sexual crush on him, or maybe I had a crush on his job, I'm not sure which - which I realized when at some point I noticed that I had a hard time not smiling when talking to him. We were so much alike; we both loved food and to travel, and our conversation never got awkward. He really enjoyed practicing his english - he spoke well but frequently got caught up on difficult words. The next night we were up until 1 am eating sushi and drinking mojitos, chatting away about our completely different lives that surprisingly were alike in so many small ways, and when we parted, it was like old friends saying goodbye, I'll see you next time. We both appreciated meeting good people and having great conversations while on our travels and I think that made our connection as strong as it was. Plus, he told me that he heard me speaking spanish apparently "without an accent". That definitely gave him some brownie points in my book!
SPS in a nutshell
San Pedro Sula, Honduras was not as eventful as Tegucigalpa was. I got in on a very unusually rainy evening, so rainy the streets were flooding everywhere. The city was similar. There were still security men with guns everywhere and my taxi cabs all still had tinted windows for protection. Plus, at a whopping 5'3", I was still one of the tallest people around.
I stayed in an Intercontinental again, but it wasn't as nice as the one in Tegucigalpa. The bed was just as great though. The people in SPS were nicer than in Tegucigalpa. I met a guy who owned a car dealership and took me around personally to everyone that I needed to talk to, and meanwhile told me all about his adventures in going to school in Germany and tried speaking in German to me but I told him in spanish that I couldn't speak German. Outside the same dealership, an older man (like 75 years old, older) started hitting on me and gave me his number so that we could hang out later. Seriously.
I befriended two store managers - one which sends me emails now in spanglish because he wants to practice writing the words he knows in english, which isn't many. The other one (a lady) wanted my phone number for if she moves to California, because then she'll have a friend in the United States. Maybe she didn't realize how far away California was from Boston. But, she bought me a burrito dinner at the grocery store (which was surprisingly very good, but she told me not to have too many of them cause they would make me fat), and then as I was working she would continuously come up to me and start talking, or just stand next to me. As I was waiting for my taxi outside, she brought me more snacks from the grocery store. Very nice lady. Also, my taxi driver who I only used on one particular day calls me now every other day, still - and tells me he is very happy to hear my voice, and asks me how I am. Before he hangs up, he never fails to say "God bless you" in english.
Aside from the beds, the other great thing about Intercontinentals is the FOOD! Fresh-squeezed juice of every kind was available daily. There weren't a whole lot of places to eat, so I ate at the hotel a lot cause the food was so good. One night during dinner I met a doctor from Belize, who talked way too much but he sure was a smart guy. Another night, there were a couple older men sitting next to me and one said "buen provecho" to me when he walked by - after my convo with Fausto, I knew that I was being hit on. So, as anticipated, he kept asking me questions and invited me to have a few beers with them. But, I had plans with one of the younger real estate agents to go out for drinks, so I couldn't stay anyways. After getting ready to go, I ran into them on the way out and realized one of them would be on my flight the next day to Costa Rica (the one that wasn't talking much). The other guy told me to stop by when I got home and knock on his door and have a beer. Really? Regardless, I went out and had a great time, had too much to drink, and of course didn't knock on his door when I got home. It's a miracle that I even woke up the next morning, and after waking up late, it was another miracle that I made it to the airport before the airplane took off.
I stayed in an Intercontinental again, but it wasn't as nice as the one in Tegucigalpa. The bed was just as great though. The people in SPS were nicer than in Tegucigalpa. I met a guy who owned a car dealership and took me around personally to everyone that I needed to talk to, and meanwhile told me all about his adventures in going to school in Germany and tried speaking in German to me but I told him in spanish that I couldn't speak German. Outside the same dealership, an older man (like 75 years old, older) started hitting on me and gave me his number so that we could hang out later. Seriously.
I befriended two store managers - one which sends me emails now in spanglish because he wants to practice writing the words he knows in english, which isn't many. The other one (a lady) wanted my phone number for if she moves to California, because then she'll have a friend in the United States. Maybe she didn't realize how far away California was from Boston. But, she bought me a burrito dinner at the grocery store (which was surprisingly very good, but she told me not to have too many of them cause they would make me fat), and then as I was working she would continuously come up to me and start talking, or just stand next to me. As I was waiting for my taxi outside, she brought me more snacks from the grocery store. Very nice lady. Also, my taxi driver who I only used on one particular day calls me now every other day, still - and tells me he is very happy to hear my voice, and asks me how I am. Before he hangs up, he never fails to say "God bless you" in english.
Aside from the beds, the other great thing about Intercontinentals is the FOOD! Fresh-squeezed juice of every kind was available daily. There weren't a whole lot of places to eat, so I ate at the hotel a lot cause the food was so good. One night during dinner I met a doctor from Belize, who talked way too much but he sure was a smart guy. Another night, there were a couple older men sitting next to me and one said "buen provecho" to me when he walked by - after my convo with Fausto, I knew that I was being hit on. So, as anticipated, he kept asking me questions and invited me to have a few beers with them. But, I had plans with one of the younger real estate agents to go out for drinks, so I couldn't stay anyways. After getting ready to go, I ran into them on the way out and realized one of them would be on my flight the next day to Costa Rica (the one that wasn't talking much). The other guy told me to stop by when I got home and knock on his door and have a beer. Really? Regardless, I went out and had a great time, had too much to drink, and of course didn't knock on his door when I got home. It's a miracle that I even woke up the next morning, and after waking up late, it was another miracle that I made it to the airport before the airplane took off.
Buen Provecho
Fausto... where to start with him. He was one of the real estate agents that I met with while in Tegucigalpa. He was full of himself, but very nice at the same time. If you can picture that. He was a very good-looking guy in his mid-thirties, never been married. Engaged once. Lived in Miami for a few years of his life, and spoke perfect english, almost to the point of not having an accent when he spoke. He prided himself on it too. Our company had met with him a couple times in the past, so I contacted to see if he was willing to meet again and he was, so we did, for 3.5 hours. He was an excellent source for me. He spoke about some of the things to see in Tegucigalpa and before he rushed off to another meeting that day, he said - I'll take you out on Friday to Villa de los Angeles. I'll tell my secretary not to plan any appointments on Friday, and I was psyched about it, then he rushed off. I didn't hear from him. Friday morning he called me and said, so today at four? And I said... yes!!!! There is nothing like having a local show you around.
So he picked me up, Friday at 4. He took me to his house so he could change after working; he had a bright, beautiful cockatoo living in his front yard which is normal to have in Central America. He lived in a cute little house in the prestigious area of Tegucigalpa, and family pictures were everywhere - he lived with the fam. It is normal for men and women both to live with Mom and Pop up until you get married; even if this doesn't happen until well into your thirties. So we headed out. He talked to me about his point of view on life, the women in his past, Honduran girls and what they were like, his crazy times and relationships in Miami. We drove up high into the mountains, passed some donkeys on the way, and stopped by the area where he wanted to build his Mom a house, and continued through the small towns up into Villa de los Angeles, a beautiful and very quaint semi-tourist town high in the mountains. We walked into some of the stores and he found a tapestry that caught his eye and bought it for me! It cost about 50 USD. Then we went to dinner at a typical Honduran restaurant with a beautiful view. He grabbed his computer from the car and spent the time while we waited for food burning for me cds of some of his favorite music - most of it in spanish. What a wonderful time I was having! I felt as though I was on a romantic date with a foreigner - or, maybe I was on a romantic date with a foreigner. After dinner - and of course he paid - we headed back into town. On the way, he threw in one of the CD's he had made for me; and to my surprise put on a song that he was singing - he was in a band and to boot, his voice was just incredible. I was feeling really good about the whole night. From there we headed to a bar downtown which Fausto claimed had some of the best drinks he had ever had. The owner of the bar was all-natural; dreadlocks down to his feet, smelled like BO, only uses natural products for everything. He was quite original and his drinks were very exotic, and all very creamy. We grabbed a drink at another bar after that before heading back. He dropped me off and I surprised myself by saying well if you're not doing anything in a couple days let me know and we'll go out again!
I got home and was just so absolutely psyched about my night. I had such a great time.
So, a couple days later, he called and asked if I wanted to go out again. We were going to try to find sushi, but after a fruitless effort to find certain restaurants that would hopefully be open, we settled with a small fast-foody type of place that served a typical Honduran dish called Baleadas. It was incredible - I thought it would taste no better than a burrito from Anna's Taqueria, but it was really good. A plain tortilla with beans spread on it, white cheese, avocado, plantains (a veg/fruit that is a mixture between a banana and a potato), and a couple very small sausages in the middle. A strange compilation of ingredients, but it was so fresh and the tastes complimented each other so well.
I asked Fausto the meaning of "buen provecho". During breakfast someone had said this to me, but I had no idea what it meant and really I didn't know how to respond to this. "Gracias, y Ud.!" I responded clearly having no idea what this meant. The waitress heard me in my confusion and tried to explain in very limited english - this means, the food is good for you. I wasn't sure if her translation was accurate, especially since her english was limited, so I asked Fausto. He told me that it means "enjoy your meal" but is usually used almost as a pick-up line; sometimes it is used as an obvious way to work your way into another conversation. I made note of this for future reference.
So after dinner we just sat and talked, or rather; I listened, listened, listened listened. This guy would not stop talking about himself, how wonderful he is, how great his family is, blah blah blah blah blah. I never noticed it the first night. He was sooooo full of himself. Maybe I had too many drinks to realize the first night? Maybe he was just lonely and insecure? I couldn't tell. After the first couple hours of not being able to get a word in edgewise, I was starting to fall asleep. I just wanted to goooooo tooooooo bedddddd. But I was having the hardest time trying to get away. We were sitting in the parking lot of my hotel, it seemed like it should be such an easy thing to do, to get out of the car, walk 15 feet into the front door and up to my room... Finally an hour later I found an appropriate time to get away. He looked at me longingly and I was afraid during that awkward period of time to leave and actually being out of the car that he was going to try to kiss me. But, I got away. I was really disappointed, this great guy I met was no longer as intriguing and attractive as I found him to be the other night. A part of me wished we never went out the second time.
But, I will never forget that great first night that we had. Might go down in the books as one of the best "dates" ever!
So he picked me up, Friday at 4. He took me to his house so he could change after working; he had a bright, beautiful cockatoo living in his front yard which is normal to have in Central America. He lived in a cute little house in the prestigious area of Tegucigalpa, and family pictures were everywhere - he lived with the fam. It is normal for men and women both to live with Mom and Pop up until you get married; even if this doesn't happen until well into your thirties. So we headed out. He talked to me about his point of view on life, the women in his past, Honduran girls and what they were like, his crazy times and relationships in Miami. We drove up high into the mountains, passed some donkeys on the way, and stopped by the area where he wanted to build his Mom a house, and continued through the small towns up into Villa de los Angeles, a beautiful and very quaint semi-tourist town high in the mountains. We walked into some of the stores and he found a tapestry that caught his eye and bought it for me! It cost about 50 USD. Then we went to dinner at a typical Honduran restaurant with a beautiful view. He grabbed his computer from the car and spent the time while we waited for food burning for me cds of some of his favorite music - most of it in spanish. What a wonderful time I was having! I felt as though I was on a romantic date with a foreigner - or, maybe I was on a romantic date with a foreigner. After dinner - and of course he paid - we headed back into town. On the way, he threw in one of the CD's he had made for me; and to my surprise put on a song that he was singing - he was in a band and to boot, his voice was just incredible. I was feeling really good about the whole night. From there we headed to a bar downtown which Fausto claimed had some of the best drinks he had ever had. The owner of the bar was all-natural; dreadlocks down to his feet, smelled like BO, only uses natural products for everything. He was quite original and his drinks were very exotic, and all very creamy. We grabbed a drink at another bar after that before heading back. He dropped me off and I surprised myself by saying well if you're not doing anything in a couple days let me know and we'll go out again!
I got home and was just so absolutely psyched about my night. I had such a great time.
So, a couple days later, he called and asked if I wanted to go out again. We were going to try to find sushi, but after a fruitless effort to find certain restaurants that would hopefully be open, we settled with a small fast-foody type of place that served a typical Honduran dish called Baleadas. It was incredible - I thought it would taste no better than a burrito from Anna's Taqueria, but it was really good. A plain tortilla with beans spread on it, white cheese, avocado, plantains (a veg/fruit that is a mixture between a banana and a potato), and a couple very small sausages in the middle. A strange compilation of ingredients, but it was so fresh and the tastes complimented each other so well.
I asked Fausto the meaning of "buen provecho". During breakfast someone had said this to me, but I had no idea what it meant and really I didn't know how to respond to this. "Gracias, y Ud.!" I responded clearly having no idea what this meant. The waitress heard me in my confusion and tried to explain in very limited english - this means, the food is good for you. I wasn't sure if her translation was accurate, especially since her english was limited, so I asked Fausto. He told me that it means "enjoy your meal" but is usually used almost as a pick-up line; sometimes it is used as an obvious way to work your way into another conversation. I made note of this for future reference.
So after dinner we just sat and talked, or rather; I listened, listened, listened listened. This guy would not stop talking about himself, how wonderful he is, how great his family is, blah blah blah blah blah. I never noticed it the first night. He was sooooo full of himself. Maybe I had too many drinks to realize the first night? Maybe he was just lonely and insecure? I couldn't tell. After the first couple hours of not being able to get a word in edgewise, I was starting to fall asleep. I just wanted to goooooo tooooooo bedddddd. But I was having the hardest time trying to get away. We were sitting in the parking lot of my hotel, it seemed like it should be such an easy thing to do, to get out of the car, walk 15 feet into the front door and up to my room... Finally an hour later I found an appropriate time to get away. He looked at me longingly and I was afraid during that awkward period of time to leave and actually being out of the car that he was going to try to kiss me. But, I got away. I was really disappointed, this great guy I met was no longer as intriguing and attractive as I found him to be the other night. A part of me wished we never went out the second time.
But, I will never forget that great first night that we had. Might go down in the books as one of the best "dates" ever!
The great people you meet
I met three really memorable people when in Tegucigalpa.
Two, I will group together because their purpose was similar. Magi and Dimas. Magi worked at the business center in the Intercontinental. She always greeted me with a "hello Ms. Basler how are you today?" which I didn't like. She was younger than me but much too cool to be addressing me so properly. So when I approached her and told her I was wondering if she could help me with a translator, she said unfortunately they don't do that service through the hotel. But before I even offered to pay her money, she said that she would be willing to come with me after work. So, she did - for all three real estate appointments. She talked about life in Honduras, I told her about living in Boston and growing up in NH. She was a university student - young, but obviously doing really well having a full-time job in the Intercontinental in the business center, and she was bi-lingual in a part of the world where very few people can also speak english. I also spent almost 3 full days with her making phone calls - well having her make the phone calls for me. I loved listening to her speak spanish. I grew a new admiration for the language and how beautiful it sounds. It made me proud to be able to speak it - (well, some of it...) I thought it was funny when she was talking about condominiums; she said condoms instead. I should have corrected her but I never did. Also, Magi and I both learned a little bit about marriage in each others' cultures. In Latin culture, when you marry, you add your husbands name at the end of your own. Well, it would read like... Lauren Basler of "futurehusband". She never new that it American culture, most of the time the women drop their last names.
My cab driver Dimas was also pretty amazing. I used his services one day a day or so after arriving in Tegucigalpa, and I liked him not only because he was nice, but also because he spoke spanish very clearly so I could understand him very well. Anytime I went into a store, like my friend in Luanda, he would come in to the store with me. I went into a grocery store and started writing down prices one day, and almost immediately a guard came up to me to say it's prohibited. So my driver automatically chimed in with... "she is getting married here and she is from the US but her husband is from here and she needs to know how much the wedding will cost". Luckily, the guy couldn't read english in which case he couldn't tell that toilet paper, laundry detergent and RAID were on my list of needed things for the wedding. Anyways, he brought me to the manager who crossed out all the prices I had already gotten and finally gave my list back to me after saying I couldn't write down the prices.
Well, what was I going to do. We ended up in another chain of the same store where I gave Dimas a portion of the list and I took a portion of the list, and we worked together to get it done. I was psyched.
A couple days before I was leaving Tegucigalpa I stopped in to Magi's office after having a tough time at the grocery store. There are a couple things I really don't like about my job. One, is trying to get real estate agents to talk with you even though you know they probably won't get anything out of our meeting. The second is needing to spend hours in a grocery store copying prices after they tell you that you are not allowed to do so. And, I was just out doing just this. After I told her my problems and that I thought people were growing suspicious, she said that she would help me. I was thrilled. So, we called Dimas and the three of us were off to the next grocery store. We each took a portion and worked together to get it all done in just a couple hours, and we didn't get caught! After finishing the grocery store, I was finished my work in Tegucigalpa with a little help from my friends. A powerful appreciative feeling overcame me and I felt so lucky to have met such great people. "My best friends in Honduras" I called them.
Two, I will group together because their purpose was similar. Magi and Dimas. Magi worked at the business center in the Intercontinental. She always greeted me with a "hello Ms. Basler how are you today?" which I didn't like. She was younger than me but much too cool to be addressing me so properly. So when I approached her and told her I was wondering if she could help me with a translator, she said unfortunately they don't do that service through the hotel. But before I even offered to pay her money, she said that she would be willing to come with me after work. So, she did - for all three real estate appointments. She talked about life in Honduras, I told her about living in Boston and growing up in NH. She was a university student - young, but obviously doing really well having a full-time job in the Intercontinental in the business center, and she was bi-lingual in a part of the world where very few people can also speak english. I also spent almost 3 full days with her making phone calls - well having her make the phone calls for me. I loved listening to her speak spanish. I grew a new admiration for the language and how beautiful it sounds. It made me proud to be able to speak it - (well, some of it...) I thought it was funny when she was talking about condominiums; she said condoms instead. I should have corrected her but I never did. Also, Magi and I both learned a little bit about marriage in each others' cultures. In Latin culture, when you marry, you add your husbands name at the end of your own. Well, it would read like... Lauren Basler of "futurehusband". She never new that it American culture, most of the time the women drop their last names.
My cab driver Dimas was also pretty amazing. I used his services one day a day or so after arriving in Tegucigalpa, and I liked him not only because he was nice, but also because he spoke spanish very clearly so I could understand him very well. Anytime I went into a store, like my friend in Luanda, he would come in to the store with me. I went into a grocery store and started writing down prices one day, and almost immediately a guard came up to me to say it's prohibited. So my driver automatically chimed in with... "she is getting married here and she is from the US but her husband is from here and she needs to know how much the wedding will cost". Luckily, the guy couldn't read english in which case he couldn't tell that toilet paper, laundry detergent and RAID were on my list of needed things for the wedding. Anyways, he brought me to the manager who crossed out all the prices I had already gotten and finally gave my list back to me after saying I couldn't write down the prices.
Well, what was I going to do. We ended up in another chain of the same store where I gave Dimas a portion of the list and I took a portion of the list, and we worked together to get it done. I was psyched.
A couple days before I was leaving Tegucigalpa I stopped in to Magi's office after having a tough time at the grocery store. There are a couple things I really don't like about my job. One, is trying to get real estate agents to talk with you even though you know they probably won't get anything out of our meeting. The second is needing to spend hours in a grocery store copying prices after they tell you that you are not allowed to do so. And, I was just out doing just this. After I told her my problems and that I thought people were growing suspicious, she said that she would help me. I was thrilled. So, we called Dimas and the three of us were off to the next grocery store. We each took a portion and worked together to get it all done in just a couple hours, and we didn't get caught! After finishing the grocery store, I was finished my work in Tegucigalpa with a little help from my friends. A powerful appreciative feeling overcame me and I felt so lucky to have met such great people. "My best friends in Honduras" I called them.
The strange people you meet
When in Tegucigalpa, I met a lot of really nice people - that was one of my favorite parts about Latin America in general. But importantly, I learned that if I ever want to get work done, the worst thing I can do is hang out alone anywhere in public. I don't think I've been successful once at getting anything done around a slew of people who are just itching to know why this young girl is hanging out alone at the bar, in the lobby, by the pool - wherever I happen to be. One night I was trying to finish up copying some prices into my work book when a Mexican guy started talking to me. He was sorta like an expat in Mexico, he had been here for a year and my impression was that he didn't have any friends. But, he mentioned how lucky he was at least to have a job. We talked and talked, in english (he wanted to practice) and he seemed just heartbroken when I said I should go back to the hotel. "Well, maybe we can get a drink at your hotel?" He said. But, I had to work and go to bed. No time. "Well I can drive you around this weekend to stores, or we could go out to this restaurant that I think you would like, I have a membership at Costco and we can go there and I can help you...." This guy BEGGED to help me out. Needless to say, after a few e-mails and phone calls I got creeped out and thought I would make up excuses instead. I didn't want this guy driving me around.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The Ambassador's digits
The Intercontinental Hotel was lovely - the nicest I had been in so far. A resort-like pool was right outside surrounded by an outdoor restaurant which served sushi. It also had another restaurant that served dinner for breakfast (my fav.) and fresh-squeezed orange juice every morning - (well, amongst other juices but this was my favorite!) and also had employees who smiled and said "have a nice day Mrs. Basler" - (which eventually was changed to Ms. Basler) as I would leave the restaurant every morning. I felt important! The best part was knowing that they were all wondering what a young lady like me would be doing alone in plain clothes in such a nice hotel. The only people I met in the restaurant were governmental officials of sorts. I met men from the US treasury, I met a former employee of the Guatemala embassy, but the best encounter was a couple guys who sat directly to my left, and began talking to me. One only spoke spanish, but the other spoke perfect english. The one who spoke spanish was an older man, who I came to find out was the ambassador for the Dominican Republic. So, I turn to leave after a conversation in half spanish/half english and the ambassador offers me his cell phone number and his office number just in case I need anything. (I think he liked my dress...? ) Then it comes up that his friend (other guy at the table) lives in San Pedro Sula, where I was going next so he gives me his phone number too. I turned around and walked back up to my hotel room as I thought, really? I got an ambassador's digits? That's kinda cool.
Airport nightmares
"We'll be flying straight in to the airport which will cut off some travel time. So please fasten your seatbelts as we have started our decent to the airport."
Phew, I thought. I did my research before taking this flight, wondering what all these airports are like because of my slight fear of flying (kinda a problem when you need to do it for a living....)and I encountered that Tegucigalpa (isn't it just fun to sound out?) is one of the most dangerous to land in, in the world. Really, I wasn't thinking too much at that point - I had left Boston very early in the morning Sunday and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep before changing from Valentine's day going-out clothes into appropriate airport-lounging attire in order to be at the airport at 3:30 am to prepare for my international flight.
Ugh. But phew. From his words of assurance - now I could relax. As we neared closer to the ground, I started feeling the plane tip from side to side as I looked out the window to see mountains eye-level at a close distance. Was the pilot tricking us? We weren't flying straight! I thought we were done with the worst of it, and was just about to land when all of a sudden the plane tipped entirely to one side (or so it seemed) and looking out the window on the left there were cars and highways and houses directly below us; I swore the wing was going to hit, and I nearly had a heart-attack and was clearly holding my breath. Suddenly we evened back out, and just a few seconds later we landed on the ground. The guy sitting next to me looked at me, smiled, and breathed out with me... and then I realized how nervous I must have just looked. The plane erupted with clapping. But most importantly, I lived to say I survived one of the most dangerous airports to land in, in the world :)
Phew, I thought. I did my research before taking this flight, wondering what all these airports are like because of my slight fear of flying (kinda a problem when you need to do it for a living....)and I encountered that Tegucigalpa (isn't it just fun to sound out?) is one of the most dangerous to land in, in the world. Really, I wasn't thinking too much at that point - I had left Boston very early in the morning Sunday and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep before changing from Valentine's day going-out clothes into appropriate airport-lounging attire in order to be at the airport at 3:30 am to prepare for my international flight.
Ugh. But phew. From his words of assurance - now I could relax. As we neared closer to the ground, I started feeling the plane tip from side to side as I looked out the window to see mountains eye-level at a close distance. Was the pilot tricking us? We weren't flying straight! I thought we were done with the worst of it, and was just about to land when all of a sudden the plane tipped entirely to one side (or so it seemed) and looking out the window on the left there were cars and highways and houses directly below us; I swore the wing was going to hit, and I nearly had a heart-attack and was clearly holding my breath. Suddenly we evened back out, and just a few seconds later we landed on the ground. The guy sitting next to me looked at me, smiled, and breathed out with me... and then I realized how nervous I must have just looked. The plane erupted with clapping. But most importantly, I lived to say I survived one of the most dangerous airports to land in, in the world :)
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