Premise

With great sadness, I left Portland, OR more than a month ago to embark on another significant out-of-the-country exploit. The calling to head out again, this time to South America, was about the only thing strong enough to tear me away from the community of family-like friends, daily bicycle riding, promise of spring gardening, and all-around unsurpassable quality-of-life in Portland. Before leaving I cleansed myself of most everything I own, which wasn´t much, save what could fit on an airplane home to Michigan and a small amount of things in my old basement. In the event of ol´3637 NE 14th going back in the hands of the evil landlord, I´m praying that someone will be nice enough to fetch my trumpet, the only thing in the lot I would be heartbroken to lose, from an untimely dumpster demise.

I spent several weeks touring our grand USA, reconnecting with old friends and family, before missing my flight out of San Francisco International Airport on January 20th, 2007. Note to anyone who has never missed a flight...or anyone who is riddled by stress on the way to the airport...It doesn´t matter if you incorrectly have been telling yourself and others for months that your flight is at 10pm when its really at Noon, they just put you on another one. During these weeks of wondering in limbo across American soils, however, I was asked incessantly about my plans, goals and of course (from parents) "How I was going to use this towards my *future*". Most quires received, in response, a dumb-faced stare...or something I made up on the spot...or, towards the end, a more rehearsed version of the latter. I knew I wanted to focus on learning Spanish while living and working on organic farms. The contents of my bag included two pairs of underware, Spanish books, a headlamp, camera, ipod, two pairs of pants, 4 tank tops, two tee-shirts, one skirt, sandals and tennis shoes, toiletries, a water filter and iodine tablets, vitamins and the lonely planet travel guide to South America...ok, and a few other odds and ends like tape, pens, and ziplock bags that I won´t bore you with. Oh...and my one-way ticket to Lima, Peru.

15 days in-country has done little to solidify the vagueness...but has already succeeded to provide scores of cultural confrontations, language learning, new friends and memories...