It's 1 am in chile.

I hope this isn't too late to set my hope for the new year to bring lots and lots of writing. 

And reading. 

And eating. 

And walking.and even more biking after all of that eating. 

And lots of time doing all those things in the presence of/near/in thinking of those I love the most. 

May 2015 be a whacky one!

Let's rock this thing!!

Rotisserie Chicken

It evades me at every turn and yet it's my favorite 'special day treat food' in the whole wide world.

Just thinking about the spits going round and round as the succulent juices are falling and dripping from one little bok bok to another!

It's toooo much god damn it!

Especially when every time I go to purchase said beautiful luscious bird with crispy golden brown skin and moist delicious insides, they are SOLD OUT!

I swear to god!  EVERY SINGLE TIME!

this is not my first chicken run!

I'm talking like 6 times!

I'm not even counting the time in Puerto Rico when my friend Maria and I stopped by 10 different slow cooking natural charcoal rotisserie chicken vans on the side of a highway on the way to an afternoon on an island...but in that case, we did find one with chickens ready!  HWA HA HA!!!!  I'll tell you though, it was concerning, one after the other, "not ready" "not ready" "not ready", at least it was nice to be in a place where the people have a sacred respect and understanding of the happiness a slow roasted chicken on spit can bring to ones life!  I mean, look at that smile on Maria's face!  That's called triumphant!

But today....it's like the chicken gods are out to get me!

What?  Have I not done my part for birds everywhere by hosting my living room to a turtle dove who sprays her caca all over the wall and her food all over the floor?  Yes, yes, she looks so cute, but when you least expect it, while curled up cozy sitting on the sofa watching a quality romantic comedy...yep, that's the moment when a certain odor wafts into the nostrils....yep....even birds do it....bird fart, and for a little thing, that cloud of putridness can reak chaos for hours!

So!  I'd say that whatever gods of birds are around these days owe me one nice juicy chicken!

But NO!

I walk in at a reasonable hour!  6pm!  Dinner time!  You'd THINK THERE'D BE SOME BIRDS TO BUY!

So, while purchasing my 1 singular disapointing bratwurst instead from the lovely meat man at Jenifer Street Market, I feebly whisper what's screaming inside my cranium...

me:"Um...sir?  What time do you usually sell out of chickens?"

He looks over at the empty heat oven display window...below the spits of awesomeness.

butcher guy: Oh...we're out?  Would you look at that!  All sold out!  That was fast!  

me: "Uhh....yeah.  You did.  What time do you normally sell out?"

butcher guy:  "HEY GUYS!  What time did we sell out?!?"

guys....: no response, they obviously feel that this question is below their concern...my guy is also losing interest quickly, they don't understand my deep and unquenchable chickenless suffering.

me: Well...what time do you put them out?

the dudes son/butcher guy (I'm catching on the neurons aren't firing so fast...but he answers after a moment of silence!): 2:30!  Every day!  You want a chicken?  Come at 2:30!

me while wandering down the cereal aisle:  2:30!  Got it!  Next time!  I'm on it!  

I'm GETTING A CHICKEN!!!!!!!

 

Whose gonna be standing at the butcher window come 2:29 and 30 seconds?!?  

OH HELL'S YEAH!

You see this?  That's what I'm talkin' about!  So, tonight, that's what I'll be dreaming of....

mmmmmmm....Chicken......

Inner monologue of a percussionist with a first chair violinist

Hope you're enjoying that chair...... Sure looks comfy.....cuz I'll be back here standing and watching said comfort for the next 4 hours of rehearsal.......hmmmm......bitch. 

No.. I'm not jealous....so you get to play pretty arpeggios for two hours straight....right at the end of all that??  I get a solo!  And when I play?  My hair flies back like Thor!!  Really!!!!  Does your hair fly back when you play?  I didn't think so!

301, 302, 303....we should get an award for our incredible capacity to count measures of rests and not get lost.....accept, you know, when we get lost....and of course the count down is towards a delicate gockenspiel solo of thirty second notes at forte.   Do you ever get lost?  I didn't think so. Do you ever stop playing?

Sometimes, I feel pretty certain half the string section is just pretending. Seriously.....how would anyone ever know with all 200 of you?  

Yes. I have conductor envy. Every time he looks at you, he's all lovey dovey happy and life is perfect.  When he looks at me, his face is red, he's about to fall off the podium, his baton is about to break in half and I don't think he's breathing....and that's my cue to come in!  Enter timpani!!!!

Yeah....that's right....7 different triangle beaters for one triangle. 5 different base drum mallets.  20 different timpani mallets. 6 pairs of cymbals. How many bows you got?

While you're debating with your stand partner who is going to flip the page this time, I'm probably murmuring the words, shit shit shit as I try to flip my music over by myself while holding 50 pound cymbals in my hands and casually strolling in two seconds over to the bass drum for the thunder of god to commence!...you know, just so you know what's going on behind you.....waaaay back there in the pit..

the pit!  Percussion pit. Not a very nice name is it!?!  Like arm pit......but...eh, it's home. 

And when the rehearsal ends and you're hopping off for lunch?  Yeah, I'll be rolling around timpani and base drums for another 30 minutes just as I did before rehearsal skipping breakfast and coming in 30 minutes early....but no, don't offer to help, I got this....it's called bad ass. 

keys and beds

Back before our year traveling, I had the crazy idea that I wanted to take pictures of all the beds we slept in and what key we used to get into our hotel/motel/hostel/shack at each stop.  

I like the concept of trying to catch a glimpse at just one simple thing in all of these different cities and cultures that could be compared and contrasted.

This proved ridiculous and never happened.

As life goes, some of the beds we slept in were not the quality I'd want my mother or grandmother to witness, and the keys....kind of boring!   Or I just never remembered to take pictures of them, even from the very beginning.

When it came down to it, when I was surrounded by beauty, nature, exciting street vendors and adventure around every corner, the last thing I wanted to do when I got home to a hotel was take a picture of a bed or a key!    I just wanted to put my pak down, brush my teeth and in all likeliness, in truth, zone out playing a game of solitaire on Rodolfo's I-phone.  We fought over this simple pleasure daily...who got to play solitaire on the I-phone.

But back to my big idea....looking back.

Here's my current keys:

 

These include: House keys, work key, car key, gym scanny guy, and of course, the required in Wisconsin beer key!

When the trip was upon us, I still remember losing key after key (I had a much thicker keychain before we left to travel) as I quit my job, then moved out of our apartment and lastly left/sold our car to my mother and left her the car keys...traveling, you have no keys!  There's something cleansing about this process.  Keys are a sort of chain holding us to responsibility.  If we lose our wallet or our keys....it's a huge deal.  We know where they are at all times and if we don't, it's trouble, so not having that chain holding you down...just imagine it!  It feels fantastic!!!  Like being a kid again or something!  Responsibility free!

Something that is kind of funny about staying at hostels and hotels in most other countries outside of the States, most places attach a funny looking big thing to the key so that's it's harder to lose or forget...in that, it's really hard to carry around in big cities!  This funny looking log thing hanging out of your pocket!  Or, just a big piece of wood or metal in a rectangle shape with a number or letter on it.  Very rarely did we have those credit card type plastic cards.  Only in bigger cities in the more expensive hotels.  Thank god, because the last 3 times this past year I've stayed at hotels in the States, I've had those plastic credit card keys fail me when coming back from the free Best Western breakfast and had to ask the front desk clerk which room I was in...with a styrofoam coffee cup in one hand and a free donut balanced on my ipad in the other..because I couldn't remember and didn't want to wake someone up unexpectedly while flipping my card thru the magnetic scanner of a strangers door!

So there's a strong momento of the trip!  There's nothing like a real key with a real number connected to it!  This electronic scanner barf is bull crap.

(The same thing would happen to me in Santiago with Rodolfo's fathers door.  I would stare at it for 5 minutes before feeling totally confident that I was on the right floor before sliding the card thru the door scanner and hear that soothing click, that meant, Sarah, you're home free, you didn't fudge it up.  Go you.

Here's our current bed:

I love our bed!  Love it!  Best bed I've ever had!  A Serta mattress lovely thing purchased incredibly cheap (almost scammed really) by some lovely friends of ours who had to move out of town in a hurry....we've slept so amazing!  Nothing like what we had on the trip...or before the trip...really, it's the best sleep of our lives!

I will say I do remember the worst sleep I had on the trip.  Both Rodolfo and I had melt down panic attack moments on the trip that we can laugh at now, but in the moment it was terrifying....feeling like you're trapped in a place you can't be and there's no way out and both were related to not being able to sleep..due to horrible sleep depriving circumstances.  Things we take for granted here in our comfy bed/room/home.  

Chiang Mai.  Son kran week. The hottest days of the thai year. I'd decided that we needed to stay at the cheapest place possible of course.  The room was similar to a prison cell.  The bed was a wooden board with a thick blanket for a mattress and a sheet.  I think there was a very small sink as well.  Well...some time around 1am, I started sobbing.  It was hot, I was tired, there were loud drunken noises from a bar close by and I remember repeating over and over again, I can't do this anymore!  I can't do this anymore!  Rodolfo had to calm me down rubbing my back telling me we just had to try and sleep and that it would all be better in the morning.  The next day we booked ourselves into one of the more mid range hotels that included a lovely breakfast, air conditioning, tv and a MINI FRIDGE!  (which I used to keep Rodolfo's birthday cake in, yes...I was going to make him sleep in a shit hole on his birthday, I'm a horrible wife).  It was heaven!l

I do however remember a certain routine R man and I got into at every pit stop.

When you sleep in a lot of different places, your backpak becomes sort of like what in my imagination is a tortoise shell of many different rooms in one bag.  A Mary Poppins bag of tricks if you would...or layers upon layers of artifacts that need to excavated daily!

We packed our bag in an order of need....necessaries on top and less important further down...the hard to reach spots filled with presents or gadgets, shoes and sweaters.

The very top was always, ALWAYS pajamas, tooth brushes, iphone charger and plug adaptor so after a long day of walking and wandering, we could easily just plop down without thinking and fall asleep.  Under that would be a change of underwear and under that, a plastic bag of clothes and a bag of toiletries.  We kept the laundry detergent and scrub brush in a side pocket (to wash our undies in the bathroom sink....(praise to edificio underwear once again) and our cotton sleep saks, and pillow covers in a bottom pocket of the bag...(pillow covers were actually cotton sarongs we used on the beach as well, but were perfect for all other sorts of needs...even a skirt at times.)

So my big idea never came to fruition.  But it was a cool idea!

Other ideas included, taking a picture of: 

our breakfast every morning (in many countries, breakfast doesn't really exist) 

all types of transportation

the hotel rooms themselves

toilets

all the kinds of crazy fruit

Things that would have been cool to have documented looking back:

 - one spot of skin....I'm pretty darn certain, my shade of skin changed drastically between climates, as did my hair color

 - it would be neat to just know how much I weighed throughout the trip.  I have hunches, but we never had access to a scale.  I do know I lost muscle mass in Asia from the heat, and probably lost bone mass or something in Africa from malnutrition, but boy did we puff back up in Spain and France!

 - the signs/names of hotels we stayed at

 - the signs/names of restaurants we loved

 - the signs/names of parks and cities we loved 

(all 3 I would have used to write good/bad reviews now that I have reliable internet at my finger tips - some places should not exist, others deserve praise!  Also, perhaps some day, it would be fabulous to get to go back and see some of the places we loved the most!)

Yes!  Winter makes me itch for adventure!  Luckily for me, I have a ticket booked to Puerto Rico this coming February with my great and dear friend Maria for a ladies road trip!  Whoo hoo!!!!!

snow man snow

I wasn't aware of this very important fact until last week, when my brother in law Martin requested that he wanted to make a snow man....

There are different kinds of snow!

I think the last time I really thought about snow quality was back on the cross country ski team, running with polls down the sidewalks waiting for the first snow of the season to arrive, or melting on wax to my skis and needing to know figure out which wax to put on for which kind of snow we had....not that I remember or know any of this information now, just that there was a blue, red and yellow wax and I knew to ask my brother which wax I should use.  I still remember the smell of the wax heating on with the iron and slightly burning my fingers when I worked to smooth the wax into the skis...looking back, I believe this was my favorite part of skiing!  Playing with hot wax!

But back to this whole snow man snow concept.

The prettiest snow, the kind that falls in pretty fluffy patterns that you catch on your mittens and stare at in wonder and awe at the amazement that is nature...sucks for snowmen!

The thick tufts of snow that fall from the sky in soft chunks like cotton candy...no good for the men of snowness.

What we luckily discovered after a visit to Devils Lake State Park this past weekend is, yes, PERFECT SNOWMAN SNOW!!!!  30-40 degree weather, the snow is just about turning to slush.  The sun hitting the snow right around 2pm in the afternoon, so that the snow is just beginning to melt and forms an ice cube when you squeeze it in your palm!  That's the ticket!  I also didn't realize that not all of us are born with the knowledge of how to roll snow off the ground and pat into a ball, so I also got to share that information with a couple of my favorite Chileans!  Here's a photo of proof:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/guarac/11628386786

good quality of life = good quality olive oil

You may think I'm crazy, but the more I think about it, some of the very best meals I've had, have been because of the olive oil!

This obsession of mine all began in..well, I guess Madrid!
Probably the moment the plane first flew over Spanish soil and I looked out my winder at the dry looking land spotted with little tree bushes that looked pretty dead and barren, feeling a kind of sadness for the browny sparse countryside (it was an intensely hot mid summer day)...and I asked Rodolfo...what are all of those trees?

His eyes got big staring out the window and he held his breath for a moment in unexpected pleasure.

Rodolfo:"They're olive trees!!!
and they're were 1000's of them!

I grant you, the R man is a little more obsessed with olives then your regular Joe, so I didn't take him completely seriously when he had this look of rapture in a return to a homeland he'd never been before, but that is exactly what was going down....the land of olives was about to be discovered!

A specific memory comes to mind, when I think of connecting really good food forever with a certain incredible smell and flavor, an experience only truly known in the lucky houses and restaurants of the Mediterranean ....OLIVE OIL!

We had the good fortune to be invited to stay at the home of one of Rodolfo's best friends parents home while visiting Madrid.  They happened to be out of town, so we had the apartment to ourselves, which after 6 months in dusty African Hostels was a godsend in itself. Upon entering the apartment, Rodolfo simply stood in the middle of the kitchen with this great big smile breathing in and out, saying, "smell that?  Do you know what that is??  Do you?  Olive oil!"

It's a fragrant but fine hint of olive, but it seems like it soaks into your pores, into your nose, like the smell form of a hug.

We had this same feeling in Turkey at restaurants where a meal is some variety of ocean life or vegetable slowly simmered in olive oil and herbs and served cold later in the day with bread. 

Nothing is better! NOTHING!  and it's so simple, and so good!  It's amazing!

So....
incorporating our experiences with olive oil from abroad and inserting into our daily meals..oh so fun! 

The deep rich yellow colored olive oil we purchased in a large tin in Istanbul is only used cold, not for frying but for salads...every time we get it out, it's like a little mini treat.  I love popping the cork off and getting a delicious whiff of the oil before pouring it on a salad.

A new thing in Chile is making higher quality olive oil, which only makes perfect sense, considering how great their quality of olives are!  Yeah, it's pricey, but they're definitely heading in the right direction!  One more attribute calling our names to make the big leap south!

So yeah!  Want to make a little change in your daily life that will benefit you in a great big way?

Go ahead and buy that pricey olive oil!  Try something new!  Make your own homemade dressings!
You won't regret it!!!

My current favorite salad dressings:

The classic:
Pouring a splash of balsamic and olive oil and then a pinch of salt on top...so the salt sticks to the oil'd leaves.

The Frenchy version:
In an old jelly jar, I combine...
mustard/or vinegar
honey
olive oil
salt n pepa
shakey shakey, pour over, toss!
I think I first picked this one up from Jamie Oliver...I love that man....it's good!

My current meditterranean obsession for dipping veggies into:
straight up tahini (usually used for hummus, but straight up, OMG!)
olive oil
salt n pepa
dried mint or dill
I just splash a bit of each into a bowl, no stirring required and dip my veggies straight in!

YAY! It's R mans Birthday DAY!!!

The reason I love birthdays is purely due to this amazing young man I'm married to.
He has the unique ability to remember everyone's day of birth, because he loves birthdays so much!
He calls his brother every year the hour he was born.
He's an incredible kind hearted and loving person whose very existence is worth celebrating!
I can't remember the hour he was born, or even what our anniversary is...but he's my everything.

Happy Birthday Hun Bun!
I love you so much!!!!

A visit to Miguel Torres winery/road tripping with Mamacita!

Rodolfo had a dream to take his mother and I to a fancy schmancy winery and we made it come true.

We had a great time and the food was amazing with wine pairings for each of the FOUR COURSES!
FOUR COURSES!!!!

Afterwards, they had lines of each variety of grape growing, and whatta ya know, we are here in grape season!!  It was my first time getting to try a Pinot noir and a Cabernet Sauvignon (amongst many others) in grape form!!!  Wow!

Chile over the years

Wow.
We are BACK in Chile for a quick visit to catch up with family, and it's like we never left!

It's funny how upon arrival, I compare things I see around me, getting on the plane, the sun coming up over the mountains, immigration stamping, customs, waste clearing on the highway from the airport, all of those little details of immediate arrival, flash before my eyes from all the previous times I've come...it's kind of like magic for me, the moment upon entering into an entirely different life.

It's kind of like when you only see a niece or nephew every other Christmas and suddenly they're twice the size?  Well, that's Chile for me, all grown'd up!  Different...but the same.

The very, very first time (back in 2005!)....

I flew by myself and Rodolfo picked me up from the airport with his father.  On the plane, there was a big group about to go on a cruise (or was it a Christian charity organization?!?) all sported up in their brand new zip off travel pants, mountain climbing shoes and super sized hats and fanny paks, ready for the '3rd world'.  They adopted me as their own on the plane, probably because I was completely terrified, and we were all uber excited together, none of us having been to Chile before and everyone seemed a bit worried for me...my first visit to meet my potential new future in laws...how romantic....and it was!

In the wee early hours shortly before arrival, the pilot gave us a special announcement and flew by one of the largest mountains in ...Chile?  OR Peru?  I don't remember...but I had a view of it from my window and took a picture of it with my old crappy camera and thought it was magical.  Everyone on the plane leaned over to see it, taking turns for everyone to get a glimpse!  (This has never happened since actually, I wish I knew why!)  I think we even gave applause when we landed, we were all so excited.

Back then the fee was a straight up $100 for US citizens..now its more like $150, my passport is just about to expire and then I'll have to pay it again...that is, if the rules don't change before my next visit and they remove the fee...fingers crossed!


Walking out of the sliding glass doors, I remember my eyes hitting the glare of the sun and my nose smelling the dry, warm and slightly cool morning air tinted with sweet fruit.  It was so dry....like a dessert.  and the sun was so bright.  and it was so deliciously warm!  I soaked it all in like a sponge...if a sponge soaked dryness.

I remember seeing a lot of delipidated, over used, very small cars and trucks on the highway, with bumpers tied on, even some horse drawn carts along the side of the road carrying garbage and debree. I was freaking out, because we were driving very fast, swirving around all of these potential accidents, and in the back seat, Chileans didn't wear seatbelts.   I remember seeing the workers in their oversized bright orange onesies, raking and watering the little plants along the side of the highway and the spray painted signs on all of the cement walls with the names of presidential candidates...I believe Bachelette was then running for office, and there was a whirl of excitement.

It was the first time I heard Rodolfo speak real Chilean spanish with his father and I remember being overwhelmed with feeling, seeing them talking together...Rodolfo in his natural habitat!  So this is what he really sounds like when he speaks his own language!  It was the first moment I'd wished I could have joined the conversation and been a part of it all...that we could be so natural together in our thoughts and feelings...and so fast!  and the first moment I realized...this learning Chilean spanish thing?  It's going to be much harder than I thought!

The dry cool air rushed in thru all the open windows and a sense of...wow...I'm alive!  Came in with it!

Shortly after arriving at his moms house, I drank my first nescafe and ate my first palta con pan and then fell asleep with the screenless window open and sunshine pouring in, with the sounds of parrot cheeps squeaking away in the tree across the street.  I felt sooooo HAPPY!

We've noticed a lot of changes this time around on the first day for better or worse...

• No more horse drawn carriages around...I saw only 1 on the outskirts of town.  I also didn't notice any delapidated shacks along the highway from the airport...perhaps they're hidden or destroyed?
• Cars are getting bigger and bigger and there's more of them.  I'm wondering if this has to do with a change in import/export laws?  There's really no room for them here and with pollution as it is, this is kind of sad to see.
• Fat people.  A LOT of obese people.  I blame this on Walmart and their entrance into the grocery stores here which sell American products...mainly of the junk food variety.  
• Along with that, I've seen a lot more bikers and runners of many different ages.  It seems as if bicycle commuting is catching on here, also potentially due to the price of buses almost doubling.
• A lot more electrical appliances everywhere, particularly in kitchens... and everyone has an iphone.  Everyone!  Apple is huge!
•  Santiago is sort of funny because it's inside out.  The streets are not pretty...they are pretty dirty and rugged looking for the most part accept for certain neighborhoods and driving around was making me a bit sad....the pretty parts are all behind locked gates and fences..there's gardens and flowers and beautiful places a plenty, but only for those who can afford it....this makes me appreciate Madisons beautiful public parks even more...perhaps it's time to volunteer!

 So far though, wonderful visit and a very much needed catch up with family!  We've/I'VE missed them so much.  Just being around his parents and aunts/uncles/brother/cousins....it's a whirlwind of feelings and happiness.   Family is a different concept in Chile and it's hard to explain the feeling when they get together..it's a sort of tightness or closeness of extreme happiness and everyone gets a sense of contentment just being together...like eating a delicious piece of cake....which also happens when everyone is together!

All right!  Time for my daily morning run routine and a stroll thru the fruit and veggie market down the road!
BESOS!

public scrutiny

Anyone who writes publicly considers their audience and also what people might think of them when they post something in public view.  I am fully aware that what I write is public for the world to see.  I don't expect everyone to agree with me....granted....I know there's not a whole lot of public interest in what I have to say.  It's not like I'm Elizabeth Gilbert or anything.

For a while, I thought about writing a separate blog under an anonymous name just to get more writing and thoughts out of my mind and into the world, because I do enjoy writing and sharing what I write, and being anonymous could give a bit more freedom to really say what I mean and not offend others.  That it would be good for me to give myself that freedom.

I've been told I'm a good writer from many different angles...that I should write more and that I'm funny and have an interesting view on life and food and travel...not just by my mother or my lover or even friends...and that feels really good to hear!  Those positive voices give me a greater push to write more, think more, share more and believe that what I have to say is sometimes (but not always) clever, funny, witty and worth reading.  In that same way, I never considered that a bad review could push me in the opposite direction...shut me up and fizzle me out....but that is exactly how I'm feeling right now....silenced.

Just last night, for the first time (believe it or not) I was publicly slammed for my statement made in a private video made public about Gringos talking about their experiences in Chile...., it was something I was proud to take part in to help promote Chile and all the eccentricities I love about my "other" country...a place I love so much I honestly feel part Chilena....I guess I feel since I'm around the culture so much, I'm a bit at liberty to make fun of it a little....actually, Chileans have such a dark sense of humor, I'm often told by Chilean friends and family that I need to ease up a bit and not be so "politically correct" in my comments and jokes....what's the big deal?

 Well, I got good and bashed...just by 2 individuals, but 2 was enough to give me a hard time sleeping/thinking/being....it was really weird!

The things I said about bike paths and undies in the video weren't meant to embarress or hurt, they were said with love, and would be very similar to things I would say about myself or even Americans if I were asked about my own culture....as I often do in this very blog......pretty regularly....I say funny things...sometimes slightly inappropriate...I don't wear white gloves or beat about the bush, that's just my personality.

I was called "dumb" and specifically "UNLIKE" 'd as the 'girl in the orange shirt' particularly for my comments with a request that I be cut out of the video if it's to be shown in public.  They even called me a liar.

I've never felt put to the test/analyzed/evaluated/found faulty by an anonymous reader/reviewer/watcher until last night and it hurt.  I never considered the possibility that someone would find my thoughts anything less than funny/silly/ridiculous...cuz, that's how I roll...that I frustrated someone by what I said in a random comment meant to cause a smile....enough for them to want to silence me.

So....I cry out to the haters of the world...
why you gotta be like that?!?
To quote my super bad ass awesome boss....
Sometimes, haters are just gonna hate.

I believe it's much more difficult to put yourself and your thoughts out there than it is to bash someone else for what they think or say....anyone can give out put downs, it's much more difficult to go ahead and create!  Share and be yourself!  (Very American ideals, btw, which make me proud and a little patriotic) I applaud any and all who choose the more difficult path or creativity and sharing and finding the humor in life, even when it's lost by others.

I WILL continue to speak my mind, about myself and my views on the world, knowing full well that sometimes people won't always agree and I'll be misunderstood, sometimes jerks are jerks and nice people can have bad days and can be jerks too, and that's ok.

and yes....this is a therapeutic pep talk blog....to myself....totally selfish....in public view.  Enjoy!  and feel free to think whatever you like!  you can even hate it....write a comment that what I'm saying is dumb...it's ok!  I've been there now, I can take it!

Vestby bus santa

The place:  The bus stop at the gas station near Vestby Norway, in the middle of nowhere really!
The day:  One lovely chilly fall day in 2010
The time:  About 2 hours before our Ryan Air flight left for the Vatry Paris airport
Money in my pocket:  About $30US worth of Norwegian Kronos, however much that is!


After one week in Scandinavia, we felt poor after having blown twice our allotted budget we'd planned per week for Europe!  Everything in Norway is expensive, down to the $5 candy bar at the 7-11, and to be honest, we couldn't wait to get away!  As beautiful as it was, we were running on stale cookies and stale undies and tired of walking everywhere (we'd even walked 5 miles with paks on the day before because we couldn't afford a BMW taxi from the bus station to the train station!)

So, it all came down to one final bus ride to the airport.  I'd carefully set aside the exact amount it would take for us to board the bus, but when I reached into my pocket at the bus stop, I discovered I was about $1 short!

Where we then both FREAKED THE $%^& OUT!  There was yelling....accusations, insinuations....some stomping, sighing, eye rolling and general flailing of limbs and finger pointings in all directions!

At this point, R man and I had been traveling together 24/7 for just about a year, the one thing we'd really gotten good at was letting the other person know when they'd messed up BIG TIME!, the thing we'd gotten even better at was letting out our true feelings when something went wrong!  And they ALWAYS DID!

With 5 minutes before the bus arrived and the nearest ATM being 2 miles away requiring a minimum to be taken out in Kronos that was guaranteed to bankrupt the rest of our travels thru Europe... we had no choice but to wing it!  ('winging it' is not something people 'do' in Norway!)

Something people might not realize...R man being the 3rd world big city representative and me being the middle class red neck white girl from U.S. suburbia, just guess at which of us has the higher ethical and moral standards?!?

My plan?  Grovel and beg.  Full force!  I've been known to cut corners when necessary every once in a while.  This time, R man couldn't argue.

With Rodolfo boarding first walking directly to his seat arms folded in anger and frustration, ready not to budge or make eye contact with another living soul during his remaining hours spent in Norway, I could sense the completeness of his disgruntlement at the immorality of what was about to 'go down' from 10 feet away, where then, to his great dismay and disapproval, the groveling commenced!

Thank god it was an older gentleman driver with a heart of gold!

Eyes pouty looking down at the floor.  check.
Lips pursed.  check.
Sad puppy face. check.
bowed head.  check.

I say nothing (because I don't speak Norwegian, this actually helps things a bit) and hold out all the money I have in my open hands....

He counts the bills and coins.

"Not enough!"...or it must be something like that, because he speaks only Norwegian and it sounds like a deep bull dog bark from the gut...

I smile with a look of desperation and a plea on my face with my hands out filled with our random crumpled bills, as if it were some great offering from the towns people, to his great eminence, lord of the buses.

Silence....

There's a great pause....a look of impatience, and a bit of that face my dad used to give me when I was being a pain, and then a sigh...

(HOPE!)

"Student?"  The bus driver asks.
"What?  Umm...uh...."
I'm a bit slow sometimes when I'm nervous and an airport is involved.
"STUDENT?!?" He states again with some impatience and a small almost invisible wink from the corner of his eye.
"OH!  WHY...UH.  YES!!!!  STUDENT!"

He picks thru the bills I have laid out in my palms, and takes about half of them, leaving us enough for a yogurt and a bottle of water at the airport...really!  Did I mention how pricey it is there?!?

Then...he grunts a little, nods his head, and starts up the bus, leaving me with a look of wonder and a state of awww as I grab on to a railing not to fall down the stairs as he speeds off!  Everything in Norway runs correctly and ON TIME!

As I sit down next to R man, he looks at me with disapproval, but he's secretly grateful, I know it!

This is the closest I'll ever get to meeting Santa Clause.