Denver Colorado: Expect Less, Experience More

Whoever said that nannying isn’t a real time job, has never met me. I just returned from a week in Denver, Colorado taking care of this 20-month old sweetheart, Remy- all expenses paid vacation.

When I first heard we were going to Denver, to tag along at my boss’s conference, I imagined us in warm fleeces in the middle of the mountains. And when we landed, this image was affirmed as we drove by flat lands with the Rocky Mountains jutting out in the distance. But within 15 minutes, I realized that Denver was a bustling city. . . filled with noise, construction, and traffic. Immediately I felt anxiety spilling from my boss as we tried to make our way to the Brown Palace Hotel, being consistently re-routed due to closings of multiple one-lane streets.  In the meantime, I was soaking up Remy’s childlike obliviousness in the backseat.

We stayed at a landmark hotel, a place boasting its celebrity status- a bit too stuffy in my opinion. It was filled with the elite sipping high tea in the atrium, and hundreds of doctors crowding near the conference rooms. Remy and I spent our days dancing near the piano man and wandering the 16^th street mall as I stretched my camera zoom to find the Rockies hidden behind mile-high skyscrapers. Although I usually find these gargantuan buildings obtrusive and “inorganic”, I hadn’t been in a large city since a quick summer trip to NYC and they sort of amazed me. Sort of. The sun glimmering off of the thousands of windows-that was beautiful. The buildings stacked on top of each other blocking the view of the nature that surrounded us-not so beautiful.  

Luckily, I had some friends who I studied abroad with in the area so I was able to have a reunion of sorts while in the city. The nightlife in Denver was definitely to my liking, and my Scarfie friend, Katie, quickly made me feel welcome in her environment. But other than the hospitable nature of her clan, I wasn’t swept off my feet by many laid-back west coast vibes. I was also surprised by the stank and number of homeless people who lined the streets. I guess I am just used to Charleston, where I am on a name-to-name basis with the homeless like Tin Tin who often make me smile. Here, I felt a bit intimidated on the free bus or the one green space we finally walked to that was dotted with men and women huddling near the trees. But I had to remind myself that this was a large city, coupled with marijuana legalization.

So, besides spending our time in the kids’ section at Barnes & Noble, we did a lot of walking (which was a great arm workout for me, since we forgot Remy’s stroller). Surprisingly, the weather was similar to the south and so I learned Denver is known for its 300 days of sunshine. In the shade it was definitely chilly, but there were a few days when it was warmer here than it was back home in Charleston. 

Before I went on my second outing with my study abroad buds, I wouldn’t have said that I would return to Denver. I would arrive in the Denver airport to hitch it to Boulder for some Rocky Mountain powder, however. But while getting another feel for the social environment, I caught a glimpse of how down to earth people here really are. Most people never really grew up here, which creates this easy dynamic of building relationships with people who don’t already have a massive friend structure. It definitely made it easy for a newcomer like me- because who is more welcoming than a fellow newcomer? So while guzzling beer at a microbrewery in the suburbs, with ten of Katie’s friends and my study abroad flatmate to my left, I started dreaming up a westbound road trip for sometime in the near future. (Also, I received the nicest compliment from a girl at a dive bar. She told me I had this way about me, reminding her of Jessa from the hit HBO show Girls. If I was gay I probably would have kissed her right then and there.) So you go where you feel love, or at least that is the travel motto I like to live by, and the Denver peeps definitely made me feel loved.

“Are you headed home?” the older lady seated next to me asked as I searched the clouded DC sky in hopes to say goodbye to Abe or Jefferson, but no view below of the monuments that afternoon. After quickly responding, yes, we immediately sequenced into a back and forth chat on how grateful we were to be living in Charleston. I laughed, we had spent the past thirty minutes bragging to each other about this beautiful place we shared as home.

I have Home in the ritual of midnight beach walks and constellation naming, and houses I’ve never lived in but have always offered me couch and floor and bed and hug. And Home is not confined between walls or city limits- it’s in the seven-minute delay between sun and ground; it’s in the dirt my shoes leave on the doorframe of the coffee shop where I have laughed, cried, written, studied, felt insecure, worked through shit, and straight-up blasted myself with caffeine

-Brentan Schellenbach 

Feliz Como Una Lombriz, Happy Like a Worm

Returned from my trip to Costa Rica, I thought I would entail my experience at the sustainable eco resort I volunteered at for the month of July. (Really, for my own memory’s sake!)

I expected to actually continue writing my blog weekly at the resort, but anytime I sat down to open my tablet a volunteer, employee, or guest would take my attention. It was what I needed, to step back from the impulse to be ‘connected’ and not let technology sidetrack me from the moment.

Rancho Margot is more than just a sustainable resort that has a positive carbon footprint, it’s mother nature at its core. Just 10 years ago the property was grazeland, and now it’s a living forest with a sufficient garden and systems acting together to create harmony. The property emits such powerful transformational energy-it’s pretty incredible.

I worked as a volunteer in la huerta (the garden), although there were other volunteers for yoga and the kitchen, compromising about 10 of us. Fun fact: el jardin is more a woman’s danty garden and la huerta is a man’s mighty garden … machista nature at its finest. The farm manager Abilio was the source of direction, as well as a volunteer Kelly who was well versed in permaculture development. What’s permaculture? Well it’s basically sustainable gardening, trying to use natural sources to keep the ecosystems self-sufficient.

 With some knowledge in the Spanish language and an outgoing personality, I did my best to communicate with the fellow Tico and Nico workers (Costa Rican and Nicaraguan). Every single day I was told at least once that I was beautiful by these men working on the fields, and I went through a process of dealing with it. At first I loved the attention, and then I was annoyed by it, but by the end I learned the characteristics of los trabajadores and was able to make jokes with them in return. And this, I later understood, was why I was so welcomed. Because many times Ticos say things, which in the American culture would be completely against social decency, just so they can understand another person’s reaction. It is through reactions that a human’s natural way is made clear.

One of the biggest struggles in la huerta was blending new technique with the old ways of practicing. Most of los trabajadores had been working in the fields since they were children, so incorporating a different way of tending to the land was not an easy transition. Since the permaculture directive was coming from an American volunteer, and not always well interpreted or enforced, there was a frustration in the air. I took my part in trying to translate their reasonings and relieve the stresses by being comical or loco.

The Rancho is more than any other work exchange program I have ever been a part of. Every person who goes there is in search of something, whether they know it or not. The natural beauty and simplistic lifestyle brings forth a healing power. I remember the first day I worked Abilio invited me to hike with him to clean the parillas (gates). A half-hour journey up the mountainside, cleaning the gates from leaves and sticks in order to keep the water channel flowing to form hydroelectric energy. And as we got to the “source”, the cascada (waterfall), I was asked to sit. Abilio said, “what does the water tell you” and I remember feeling at such ease with El Sabio, The Wise Man, but I was straining my brain trying to communicate some profound respuesta (answer). I was at a loss for words, I just told him I felt happy. The sides of Abilio’s mouth quickly turned, and as he smiled he said, “The river talks to me and you, I will teach you its language, the water is constantly flowing, it passes a rock, or a leaf, and it just keeps on going.” I nodded, understanding completely what he meant, and I added, “y puro.” “And pure,” he repeated, “Nora, you did not come here just to help la selva (the forest), you came here to better understand yourself.”

The relationships I built in this wonderland were incredible. In a social context where materialism doesn't exist, it was so easy to get to know people for who they really were. Having the company of individuals whose only worry is to be their most simple self allows for such open conversation. I will always remember the ease of communication, and the abundant substance that came from exchanges with fellow volunteers and workers. 

Within four weeks in the middle of nowhere I played with piglets, I helped a constantly adapting terrace project, I nursed a lettuce greenhouse from seedling to fruition, I learned to love to desyierba (weed), I developed crushes, I laughed, I cried, I skinny dipped in the river daily, I talked about my passions, I learned more what progressive individuals think of the American system, I valued one-eyed vision, I looked up at the stars in amazement, I saw the sun stretch up over Arenal volcano, I opened my eyes to the nature that is in front of us every day but that we constantly fail to notice, I learned patience, I saw the beauty in dirty hands and farmer’s warts. . . I was reminded of the value of education, and finally understood the resort’s tagline of the Rancho as a living university. 

This experience taught me that optimism is essential, and the endless possibilities of community living. Because when you begin to work for your food, and nothing more than the basics, not only do your meals taste more delicious, but you're able to realize what life is really all about: beautiful conversation and shared energy which leads to inspiration and happiness. 

“Yo confia en mi, por lo tanto, yo confia en ti”-Kelly Walsh

I trust in myself, therefore, I trust in you.

To the Green Mountain: Monteverde

Bungee Jumping Pan

DC to Miami to San Jose. I landed with great enthusiasm ready to find the public bus to Monteverde and visit my friend. I knew I was cutting the clock close as there was only one bus, but I passed through immigration with ease relaxing at the fact I had an hour to make it. When I walked to find a taxi I was overwhelmed...everyone grabbing for my attention and assuring me there was no way I would make the bus. So I was given the choice- a $150 cab to the mountains or a night in a hotel. I opted for the latter.

San Jose has a dirty reputation so I figured I would be safe in a hotel. But passing the security guard with a machine gun at the front door reinvigorated my fears. I walked to my room, threw down my yoga mat, and began to cry. When I gained composure to try out the city, I asked the desk attendant where the dangerous areas were to be wary. In return he handed me a map marked with 5 blocks of safe exploration. I decided to still take a short meander but after a block of feeling people see through me and copious homeless eating trash, I quickly returned. 

Waking up at 5am to give myself extra time was much needed since the taxi driver insisted on taking me to the wrong station. I let it happen, but when he was wrong I assured him I would not being paying for his misconception. Five hours later and I arrived in the heaven that is Monteverde. Walking through the CPI school gates where I had studied 3 years ago and I was flooded with memories. A solo hike in the cloud forest for a few hours put the travel transition into perspective. A rollercoaster of emotions finally coming to the feeling that I was exactly where I belonged. I even remembered a legendary tree in the forest...yes, I'm a hippie. 



A short weekend in MV with my soul sister who is now married with a 2 year old. I was so happy to get acquainted with the family and enjoy the green mountain for the peace it resonates. I bungee jumped the highest point in Latin America (go pro video to share later). Cooked delicious dinners with my amiga. Visited with former teachers. And searched for coffee from a farm I visited with my college. 

There was such a great contrast from my arrival and my weekend visiting my amiga. I was reminded of something my brother AJ once preached "Its not healthy to over enjoy your highs or to wallow in your lows". And with that. . . I am off to the farm life :D 

Tico Explorer Returning to the Land of No Artificial Ingredients

When I was a Junior in College (2010) I journeyed to Costa Rica with a group of 12 students to explore the beautiful land, absorb the enticing culture, and learn more about the sustainable practices that keep their ecosystem thriving. It was an amazing experience that touched my soul and made me think about the consumerist mindset that daily engrosses my routine. It was in that short month that I realized there was so much more to the world than the United States.

Post Costa Rica I have travelled to over 20 countries- appreciative of every culture and destination. My recent adventure was around Europe, an incredible voyage where I spent all of my savings, well worth every penny. But I’ve been craving the place where I passed the line of tourist and felt in touch with both the people and Mother Earth.

Excited for the wildlife I saw in 2010

I will be volunteering at a self-sufficient farm in the Arenal District of Costa Rica for the month of July. Rancho Margot is more than just a farm, though, it is also an eco-yoga resort and education center. Like much of this tiny country, the land was once barren wasteland destroyed by decades of cattle ranching. Now it is a 400-acre property of productive paradise surrounded by rainforest. (The resort was featured on CNN's The Next List which you can watch here)

I cannot wait for the opportunity to assist this eco-paradise in their beautification practices working as a gardening volunteer.

But I am also a bit fearful. My life is very fulfilled in Charleston. But I think it’s important to take a break sometimes and challenge yourself to explore more. Because, hey, this independent, confident exterior might just really be scared shitless. 

There's a quote by Calamity Jane, "I figure, if a girl wants to be a legend, she should go ahead and be one." Well. . . here's to living the legendary lifestyle!

                  

A Quick Vacation, An Epic Reunion: Boston, Massachusetts

Wharf near Boston Aquarium

I had been counting down the days until my trip to Boston, MA for weeks. Not only would I finally have time off away from the grind lifestyle of nannying and lacrosse obligations, but also I would get to reunite with the kids I studied abroad with in New Zealand.

            I landed and met Mike in baggage claim. Mike lives in Colorado and was my flatmate in NZ, I had not seen him in 2.5 years. Jeff snagged us up and drove us to his apartment in Brighton. It had been about a year and a half since I had last seen Jeff when he came to visit me in Washington, DC. We stayed up until 3AM reminiscing, laughing, and probably annoying the shit out of his roommates. I realized how much I missed having such solid guy friends, who aren’t trying to impress or hit on me-just simply pure friendship.

6 Scarfies, One Room, Love Technology

         The following afternoon we walked around downtown a bit, and then picked up Kerry and Becky, coming from London, from the airport. I call them the 2/3 twins. They are triplets, but I’ve only met these two. Becky lived with Mike and I in New Zealand, and I also spent the beginning of my European adventure with her in the south of France (see French Riviera Blog). I’d met her sister for about 10 minutes in Australia (2.5 years ago), but I felt like I’ve known her forever. We spent the day walking around downtown Boston and Harvard University. Although we said we wouldn’t be drinking to save for the following St. Patrick’s Day, we ended up in a bar playing pool and drinking some brews. I think we played the slowest two games of pool in my life, but all good conversation. Back to Jeff’s for the night, and walking back from the corner store we found ourselves with a 30 rack in our hands. So much for saving up for the next day’s mayhem. Amongst the card games we had two computers open skyping other New Zealand friends: Sabine, Lauren, and Liam. Within the laughter I took a moment to appreciate how lucky it is to have people you can jump right back into friendships with, as if no time has passed.

Lined up for the Parade

           Sunday morning came earlier than desired. I rocked the orange, green, and white face paint and we took the hour train to the Southie Parade. Lined up for the bathroom at the gas station thinking we were smarter than most fast-food pissers. On the contrary, but I was impressed by the mass Boston police force hanging out at the gas station and snatched a photo with a Peter Griffin (Family Guy reference) look a like. Surprisingly, they were very nice officers…even pulling jokes on us. Before we found a sunny spot along the parade line, I met up with a friend from college who recently moved to Boston. Although a short encounter, it was nice to introduce our friends. The parade began, and it was a long procession of police and firemen . . . I was expecting floats and such, but the funny stuff came along later. The parade was a 4- hour affair, a jumble of pictures and Irish jigs across the middle of the parade. My Scottish 2/3 twins had a laugh at my attempt at Irish step dancing. We returned to Jeff’s place after dinner, coming down from the days escapades, and decided we should rally as is the University of Otago Scarfie Responsibility Code of Conduct.

Quincy Market

 The next day we walked around North Boston (the Italian District), Freedoms Trail (Paul Revere’s path during the American Revolution), visited Faneuil Hall (marketplace and site of independence speeches), ate at Quincy Market, and walked along the harbor side. The fact that we were walking, UK and US folk, around these revolutionary sites was rather comedic. We met my second cousins Julie and Lindsey, who live in Boston and Connecticut respectively, at a Mexican place near the harbor. I hadn’t seen them in a few years and it was great to chat about our families’ lives. We continued the night to The Speakeasy, which was a really cool setup. Before heading home we snatched some beautiful photos with the city skyline lit up reflecting on the waterway. I love cities on the water, even though Boston is freezing cold. It started snowing as we headed home. Although it had snowed earlier during my stay this one was a big storm about 9 inches. But 9 inches is nothing for Boston, the city was clean in the morning and my friend was off to work. That night I slept with my friends at a hotel near Jeff’s place, as not to impose for the rest of the week with 7 people in a 3 bedroom. We stayed up late and continued the Scarfie conduct, reminiscing and watching videos and photos of past experiences.

Margaritas with Cousins

            The next morning Gatorade and crisps helped, but we were all very silent at lunch with my one cousin Lindsey. I appreciated the chance to introduce blood family with New Zealand family. We crawled back into the bed at the hotel watching Louis CK comedy until my flight time. Mike was such a gentleman and walked me to the train with the wintry mix. We joked we might be in the wrong spot and then the train passed us. . .so we sprinted in the middle of the road to make the next stop, which was about 2 blocks. I much appreciated having someone look like an idiot with me. Hugs and love sent, and goodbye.

             Luckily, my plane was not delayed and I was off to Charleston, with a connection in Baltimore. I was so tired the whole journey since we had little sleep and too good times for 4 days straight. But as we passed over Charleston from the north side coming in above the Cooper River Bridge lit up in the night sky I was very happy to be home. 

       
 My short vacation to Boston was an incredible time. Not only was it my first time checking out the city, but I got to reunite with so many people that I love. I’ve decided since this trip that on the wild chance I ever become a millionaire, or win the lottery (which are realistically the same chances), I would like to get all my friends and family together from around the world at some magnificent spot. But for now, I’ll just make the effort to always reunite with the people I care about because you only make strong connections with certain people.  

Back in the USA: The East Coast

 Looking back at my return from Europe it seems like such a long time ago, almost two months to be exact. I landed in Washington, DC and was glued to my phone the minute I landed. I went down my favorites list and dialed everyone- it was so good to hear my friends voices so clearly. Of course, I was enthralled with being synced in and connected again that I forgot my backpack on the plane. Luckily, my bag was quickly returned.

Dataw Island, Marsh View

Tessa and Caitlin, Folly Beach

       I spent two nights in DC, time with my brother and the few friends I care to stay in contact with from high school. A 9 hour drive and I had arrived in Dataw Island, South Carolina where my parents moved while I was abroad. It was great embracing my parents and sneaking my cats into my room. But only 2 hours away from Charleston, I could feel the vibes calling me. The next day I was off to my college town, the most beautiful city in the US (some say, the world). It was a sigh of relief, I finally felt at home. DC isn’t home now because my childhood home is filled with a new family, Dataw isn’t home because its completely my parents, but Charleston has been home since I was that wanna-be sorority girl Freshman stuck in the all girls dorm. Charleston has been home since I spent four years living  in five different places around the peninsula. Walking into the bars and having people shout your name from across the way, having that “go-to” bartender, that late-night spot, that yoga studio that remembers how to perfectly adjust you, and that group of lacrosse girls who have missed that “hard-ass” who was always down for a competitive keg kill.

Family Photo, 2012

Backyard View of Morgan River

     Despite my love for this city, I was still broke. Given the holiday season, I returned to Dataw Island for a beautiful Thanksgiving with my family-parents, brothers, aunt, and cousin. Finally, some boys who rough me around with no mercy.  As we sat around the table expressing what we were most thankful for, I realized I was most appreciative of how we say it like it is, all bullshit aside. Of course it’s nice to hear how wonderful you are all the time, but without brothers who call you out for no makeup, too much cleavage, those not so lovely love handles, and bad attitude. . .how else would I know what to change?

Sunset Cruise/ Jake and I 

       

 Since Charleston is the closest airport to Dataw, I decided to stay after dropping my brother off. One day turned into five days. With a free place to stay, friends all around, why not? Then I was back to Dataw Island to pick up my mother and continue our journey to Florida. We first stayed at my Aunt’s place outside of Ft. Myers. A quick two day layover and we were off to my brother’s new home- Key West. My brother made a monumental decision while I was abroad, he quit his safe job, sold his car, and packed up to Key West, the Caribbean of the United States. Having visited previously he knew it was somewhere he could be happy (read all about his transition in the Keys on his blog). Our time was well spent: sunset cruise, power boat adventure, drinking on the street, drinking in the bars, sun tanning. Another return layover in Ft. Myers, and then back to Dataw Island. Although my mother was starting to verbalize how my freeloading was upsetting her, I greatly appreciated the week journey further south where we all got to see Key West for more than a place of “bums, homosexuals, and drug addicts” (quoted a neighbor from Dataw Island).

       Another escape to Charleston and a few sublease properties to visit in hopes of moving in January. Days later I was back in Dataw Island sweeping up my father and driving north to our mountain house in Wintergreen, Virginia. My oldest brother managed to bring a Christmas tree from DC, securing it inside the car once it flew off, so we had decorations to match the season. We built this house 14 years ago and it is complete bliss in the Blue Ridge Mountains situated along a golf course (of course). My dreams came true and it was a white Christmas Eve coupled with snowboarding, AJ and I shredded some fake powder as real snow was flurrying down. Although missing Jake, we skyped him in on Christmas gift opening and it was beautiful family time.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! 

Down the mountains, and a 3 hour drive to DC for the night. Within less than 24 hours I caught up with three friends, bought my NYE dress, and crashed at my brothers. Early the next morning I was off busing it to New York City. Many of my college buddies who graduated with me were either working there or visiting so it was a great reunion. Thanks to my parents I was able to attend my first Phish concert in Madison Square Garden, which was enhanced by the sheer excitement from my groupie guy friend. It was an experience. A day visit to a friend’s workplace, CBS Studios, and introductions to impressive producers made me appreciative of the connections I have maintained in this world. Preparing for New Years Eve with lots of glitter and handmade flower crowns, we were all set to attend Yotel Hotel’s Open Bar. Within the vicinity of Times Square I was jumping out of my skin when I saw the debris from the ball drop in the distance. 

Madison Square Garden, Phish

A long journey back to South Carolina: busing it to DC, taking a quick dinner with my brother, and then driving another 9 hours south. Within two days time I packed my stuff, filled my UHAUL, and was returning to my real home- Charleston. I lucked out, with prime property in the renowned South of Broad area. Hauling my bed inside, turning around and seeing the water in the distance as I closed the door behind me. Yes, I have returned to paradise. I have a full-time job nannying two infants and an internship with the Caribbean Media Exchange and Marketplace Excellence to keep me sane. I am re-devoting myself to the power vinyasa yoga practice, a place where I can get my mind chatter to quit and let myself be lost in the motions. I am coaching the college club team, and in contact to assist a youth league as well. With a job, my friends, yoga, lacrosse, and this beautiful backdrop I am ready to give up “Nora the Explora” and remain permanent. . . . at least for 6 months ;D

Where I live . . . for now.