Sandy

Sandy. Sandy. Sandy. When I think of the name Sandy, I can only think of one person: Sandy Olsen from Grease. Growing up, Grease and The Parent Trap were my two favorite movies, and I decided Grease was superior mainly because of Sandy. Not only did I name every Barbie and doll I owned after her, I’m a champ at karaoking to “Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee.” My infatuation with Sandy continued to my young adult years when I bought a pair of shiny black leggings in hope to be her one day for Halloween or Purim (watch out boys, that's my next costume). I simply just love her.

And then I heard the latest. This meteorological imperialistic world we live in, named a potential natural disaster after a woman who can do no wrong in my eyes or to the eyes of every little girl out there.  Seriously, what was the World Meteorological Organization thinking naming this hurricane, Sandy? Shameless.

I’m not sure if I’m in denial with Hurricane Sandy because of her forename or because every single person in Manhattan is treating it as if we’re going to lose power for the next month. Maybe we will, maybe we won’t, I don’t know, but the likelihood of losing power for that long is quite impossible. So, please, stop stocking up your refrigerators and freezers in preparation for December 21^st, 2012 (the year the Mayan calendar says the world is going to end).  Also, here’s a friendly reminder: if we do loose power, than all that food you bought is going to rot anyways, so stop buying food and clear out those dramatic lines.

In prep for my friend’s birthday tomorrow, I was going to the store to buy ice cream and cupcakes for her when I noticed how ridiculous everyone in NYC looked today. People were parked in line around the block of every single bodega, makolet and supermarket. What would usually take you 10 minutes to buy in a store, took the average person 45 minutes. I was astounded by all the empty shelves and drastic lines. And then it hit me, I wonder which day made a larger revenue in the greater NY area: the eve of Thanksgiving or Sandy? Hands down, every store in the Upper West Side (UWS) made hefty earnings this weekend in prep for Sandy. People shopped their bank accounts out and stocked up on food which will probably turn out to be another Irene sort of deal. So stop bugging out and relax; the world's not going to end this week!

Here are a few pictures of how ridiculous everyone in the UWS looked today:

Whole Foods line all the way down Columbus Ave 

Getting their West Side Market salads

Even Jorge, the fruit man, was sold out and closing down for the next 24 hours...

Viva's Pizza: Rightfully so.

 Crumbs, the most amazing cupcake store nationwide was sold out of their delicacies. Seriously, who stocks up on 600-calorie cupcakes especially when NYSC is most likely closed tonight and tomorrow? I envy those brave people who are pigging out on heavy cream and sugar. Let's goooo! 

Nail Salon: One word: Classic.

Bank of America: why are people taking money out? Every store is closed for the next 24 hours....

Gristedes: This view made my day. I’m the queen of boycotting Gristedes because they rape everyone of their money. I’m so happy there was no line!

And most importantly, the liquor store. What’s the best way to keep warm or busy in a hurricane? Some hearty alcohol…

All I can say is everyone needs to chill out; however, it'll be interesting to see how the next 24 hours in NYC will carry on…

I love what I do!

I’m three semesters into school and I finally like, no, actually LOVE, nursing. School not so much, but the field- very much! Yes, it took a while, 9 months to be exact, for me to like it, but I’m sticking through it and LOVING it! I remember my sister kept asking me, “Are you sure you want to do this? You seem like you don’t love it.” And I never wanted to admit it; but yeah, I never loved it till this semester. Who loves their profession? What a gift! 

This semester I’m doing all my clinicals in Magnet hospitals which is phenomenal. It’s the little things in nursing that I love. For instance, my obese patient the other day couldn’t move in her bed and asked for a scoop of chocolate ice cream. I had to remind her she’s a diabetic and that would harm her immensely. She sighed and asked for an ice cold cup of water. Haha, trust me, she had a lot of excess “meat” on her, so refusing to give her the ice cream was to her benefit. I brought her the water she asked for, and she couldn’t thank me enough.  She was so grateful, it was as if I performed surgery on her.  Again, it’s the little things in life that counts.

Then today in my labor and delivery clinical, I was assigned to a Puerto Rican 19 year old girl who was 34-36 weeks pregnant.  Before her C-Section, I adjusted her IV’s, performed a full head-toe assessment, and prepped her for her delivery. The look in this teenager’s eyes was frightening. She didn’t have to verbalize how scared she was, it was painted all over her face. It was clear she had no idea what was going on or what was going to happen. 

She had no one with her. No mother, no father, no best friend, and most importantly the father of the baby was absent. Can you imagine that- giving birth at 19 without anyone to share in this happiness of life with? It was startling for me. 

She was transferred to the operating room where the c-section was going to take place. The walk from her room to the OR seemed like forever but in reality it was 30 seconds. The tears accumulated in my patient's eyes was devastating. Once she saw the OR, her eyes erupted with tears. Heavy tears to be exact. And harsh cries escaped from her soft mouth. It was terrible. We transferred her to the operating bed and the anesthesiologist began the epidural. I had to stand back because watching this teen cry made me cry and shakey. I actually almost threw up because I was so sad for her. How could this happen? She’s 19 with no one to support her? Her body was stiff and tense, and she grasped the nurse for support and held my hand. Finally she calmed down a little bit and the surgery began. Minutes later a beautiful baby boy was born. It was the coolest thing I’ve ever experienced. I JUST SAW A LIVE BIRTH! I saw a human-being being brought to this world, and instantaneously the Mom was happy and everyone was clapping and smiling. (Ugh, I want to go into detail about the surgery, but I don’t want to gross anyone out!)

It was pretty neat, there was a 4^th year med-school student observing the c-section with me. He asked if this was my first time and I said, “yes, you?” “Nope, I’ve seen a bunch of them and it gets me every time!” HAHA, so cute! It was nice that he was there because he explained every step of the surgery- I LOVE DOCTORS! 

Then, the preemie was announced to be a healthy 5.2 lb. baby! I walked over to the warming bed where the baby was receiving vaccines and ointments to prevent diseases. Words can’t express how precious this moment was. I’ll carry it forever. I can’t begin to describe how happy and honorable I feel to be in the field of nursing. Helping others for a living? It doesn’t get better than that! Corny, I know! But, it’s true!!

7-11 for Knowledge

My Mom had an epiphany and told my Dad she wanted to participate in the whole Best Buy Black Friday/after Thanksgiving sale. In all honestly, it’s kind of strange my Mom wanted to go considering she doesn’t get along with electronics that well, but that's a different story. Anyways, my Dad ended up going to Best Buy solo (see, I told you electronics don’t fascinate my Mom), and among his many purchases, he bought a GPS.  I know GPS’s are so last year, but seriously, he bought a GPS? GPS’s go against everything I (and my Dad) believe in, and he succumbed to one. Some may ask why but I know the real reason- Black Friday and Visas simply don't mix well together. I couldn’t have been more upset. 

I don’t understand the significance behind GPS’s. Yes, if you’re stranded in a random state then they’re convenient; but, when you’re driving to and from work, Chicago, or wherever you’re traveling to---it’s kind of a brain tease. Who wants to listen to a woman all day telling you to make a right which causes you to drive into a ditch? Not me. And do we really need to be instructed to stay on the road? If so, then you clearly shouldn’t be driving.

Where has the reliance on your built in GPS (i.e. your brain) cascaded to? Whatever happened to printing out Map-Quest directions; using your head to figure out if you should make a left or right; or better yet, simply asking another human being for directions? I know society is veering away from human interaction; but let’s get real, the 7-11 employees know directions better than Siri or Homer Simpson, so why not ask them? And as an added bonus, 7-11 has the best slurpees!

Bottom line: if you want to weaken your brainwaves, then buy a GPS; but if you want to stimulate your noggin, then hit up your local 7-11 for directions. Kidding. Whatever you decide, drive safely, don’t let your GPS take over your life, and remember who’s boss. 

DEAD END. No thru traffic, turn back now, your GPS is wrong- Guaranteed

Don't Offer Your Seat to a Jesus Lover

Oh the Joys of riding the NYC subways…

After a long, tiresome day of clinicals, I parked myself on one those infected seats that make up the subway-cars hoping to have my ritual zone-out session while listening to music. Well, nothing really ever goes according to plan now, does it? Three stops away from my apartment, an old Haitian woman walked on the packed train and stood in front of me. I glanced at her and being the generous girl I am (ha), asked if she wanted my seat. I assumed she didn’t hear me so I “signaled” to- NOT touched- her, and as I’m in the middle of restating my question, she screamed and said, “Don’t touch me! Jesus is not with you!” I was about to defend myself, but honestly there was no purpose. Some battles are not worth fighting (especially with The Insane). On the flipside, just because I wasn’t going to defend myself, doesn’t mean the rest of the train can’t have my back, right? Right. 

I’m not exaggerating when I say this incident caused chaos in the train. People were yelling, screaming, spitting (fine, maybe not spitting, but I hope you get my point) at this woman. They continuously said, All she wanted to do was give you her seat. She was just being nice to you! After listening to the Haitian talk, I realized the only vocab she knew was “Jesus” because she managed to reference him in every sentence--- “Jesus is not with her; she is a bad girl for touching me. Oh giiiiiiRL, Jesus hates her.” A man sitting 3 seats next to me blurted out, “I can’t take this- what has this world come to? The only thing this girl wanted to do was do a good deed by offering you her seat…Has the world gone mad? And for god’s sake she didn’t touch you!” I honestly started laughing so hard because this whole situation was quite comical to me. I literally kept on telling my new friends to ignore her because it’s simply not worth it. 

As the lady walked off the subway, she made it a point to once again say how Jesus isn’t with me. As the doors closed, a woman sitting across from me felt impeded to say “Don’t listen to that old bag, Jesus is WITH you.” Quite frankly, the only thing synapsing through my head during and after this catastrophic-uproar was- who cares? Jesus and I aren’t friends; in fact, I don’t even like Him!

Oh the joy of living in NY. You’ll never have a boring day. 

ADIDAS

I'm back!

After months and months of intermittent depression, my hibernating days are put to an end, (well at least for now). My traveling escapade is put on pause and my life is "unfortunately" unraveling itself. I enrolled in nursing school (that's a whole story in itself); I moved to NYC, which entails living the social-school girl life; And I've turned my life into an ADIDAS medley- All Day I Dream About Songs.

That being said, I've discovered the 4 S's- school, study, sleep and socializing. In fact, I saturate my well-being in them on a daily basis. Some may say this is boring- hell, I agree with y'all- the 4 S's are gruesome. My life for the next year is undergoing serious renovation; and if I come out alive, I'll be an RN with no bags under my eyes.

I'm sure you're all wondering why I started to blog again. If not, then pretend you are. But basically a friend of mine was snooping though my blog and read my first entry inferring the ability to describe oneself in one or two words. I thought and rethought what my words are, and I've located them with the help of a few people. I don't want to inflate my ego just yet, so I'm not going to reveal my words in this entry. However, one day I'll publicize these mysterious words- but for now I'll leave it for y'all to guess.

So, I conclude with this- get ready for my sarcastic/funny (not sure how that plays together) stories about the complexities of school (and my life), my interesting hospital/patient stories (no names will be disclosed because of HIPAA regulation), living with 4 other girls (lots of estrogen), and random thoughts. Enjoy!

Nothing turns out the way you want it to...

Facing Death through Horseback Riding

In honor of our last night in Ritoque, the eight of us decided to go horseback riding through the desert, mountains, sand-dunes, and along the beach. This 3 hour escapade started pre-sunset and ended after sunset…in an ideal world this would be a very romantic outing, but of course this isn’t an ideal world. To make the long story short…horseback riding sounds easy, right? Wrong. Therefore, I’m going to tell you the “long” story of how the 8 of us nearly died and how I almost committed suicide…

As soon as we arrived at the horse stables, Marcelo, the man who worked there, got straight to business and divided us into 2 groups. He said: for those who’ve previously ridden horses before go to my right and first timers go to my left. I proudly walked to his right BUT let’s be serious- this doesn’t mean I’m a pro, I’ve only gone horseback riding a few times. I didn’t know what the intensity of going to his right was initially going to entail. (Oh, side point- I’m the shortest one of my friends; meaning I should get the shortest horse. It's only fair…)

Since I was busy yapping with some people, my friends got first dibs on ALL the short horses and I literally got the last pick. To be correct, I wasn’t even able to pick my horse…there was only one left. Once Marcelo saw me and my lovely height he hysterically started laughing and said, “This horse is for REALLY experienced riders, jajaja (hahaha).” Really, really? Jefe (boss) that was so NOT funny! I began freaking out because not only was “my” horse for experienced riders but comparing it to all the other horses (including Marcelo’s horse) it was the tallest and biggest horse. I eventually got over it and said, “Screw it, this is the only horse left, just suck it up and take it.” So I did. I wish it was only that easy.

Once I was fully straddled onto Piojo (the horse’s name), everyone and I mean every single person (even the other horses) started laughing because proportionally the horse and I were significantly off.

I can’t explain to you how nervous I was. I even had Marcelo hold onto Piojo’s reigns because I was so scared. I suddenly calmed down when I realized Piojo was limping because if he's hurt then he can't do anything to harm me. Clearly that wasn’t the case because Marcelo said, “He’s a strong horse, don’t get fooled.” Oy. Eventually I was comfortable with Piojo and wanted to ride alone so Marcelo let go. I started galloping and steering Piojo in the right direction. Every now and then I would give it a kick and we would trot. I learned how to pull the reigns which made it stop and usually it did. I, more or less, had control over Piojo.

There was one moment when Piojo saw Henry, Jamie, and Nick’s horses sprint up the sand-dunes. Piojo couldn’t hold it in anymore. I knew whatever was about to happen was going to be the worst experience ever. And I mean awful; because the last thing I saw was the boys and I had a feeling that was soon going to be me. I began freaking out because my feet weren’t secured in the saddle and I started screaming “Marcelo! Venir aqui!” (Marcelo, come here!) Before he was able to catch up to me, I was gone. Piojo sprinted up the sand-dunes, passed Amy and Shoni’s horses, and eventually the boys. We raced passed the dunes till an open, flat sandy area appeared. All of our horses went freaking NUTS. The way these horses dashed made me feel like we were equestrians.

This is where I need to apologize…mainly to Nick, actually pretty much only to Nick. There was one moment when Piojo almost collided into Nick’s horse and I started cursing the life out and blaming him. The words that came out of my mouth should never be repeated ever again…I honestly never knew I could talk like that. I guess that’s what happens when you almost face death. I know you were shocked Nick…Sorry!

Alright back to the story--- It got to the point where Piojo started sprinting so fast and beyond everyone else that I knew there was nothing I could do about it. All of my insides were out and I couldn’t feel a thing. I was so numb I was sure I was going to die. Legit. I remember contemplating if I should jump off Piojo and see what would happen, and if I were to die then at least I was going to die in the dunes of Chile! I’m not trying to be morbid but I literally saw my life flash before my eyes. My heart is beating so fast just from typing this…aaaahhhh!

I was in such shock that nothing was coming out of my mouth. Eventually Piojo slowed down and there were tears streaming down my face. Once I got my voice back, I screamed “Marceloooo” so loud I’m surprised the embassy didn’t rescue me. I turned around and saw him, and he instantaneously knew to grab onto my reigns and that was that. We concluded that riding these horses was the scariest yet BEST thing that ever happened to us (even the boys thought so, sorry for publicizing this haha)!!

There was an hour left of the ride and Marcelo told me as we were galloping along the beach that Piojo is an Arabian-English breed and used to be a race horse. A FREAKING RACE HORSE. No wonder. Even with a limp, my horse surpassed everyone else’s and wouldn’t stop. He felt back at home!

I can say on behalf of myself and my friends that riding through the mountains, desert, sand-dunes, beach, seeing the sunset, and oh yeah almost dying is definitely an experience I will NEVER forget. Where in the U.S. (or Australia) will you ride a horse so freely that you pretty much almost die? No where! Not that I’m saying almost dying made the experience fantastic; however, it was definitely a perk. But all I am saying is that I will most likely never have this experience again. In a way, it was a moving incident that allowed me to feel care-free.

Only in Ritoque can almost dying feel refreshing!

Ritoque

Pacific Ocean

The One Dirt Road

     

Ritoque in a nutshell is this: no TV, no Internet, no communication with the outside world (sorry Rents---it was great not talking to you guys for a few days!)…what could be better? Nothing. Simply nothing.

The only way to reach Ritoque is by taking a bus to Quintero then cabbing or hitchhiking to this one block-radius of a town, which is along the Pacific Ocean. I can’t describe how small Ritoque is. There are no restaurants, pharmacies, nor grocery stores. Truth: there is one restaurant and it is only open on weekends. Aside from that, if you need food and such, then you have to hitchhike into town.  In total, the dirt road (Ritoque) consisted of 7 beach houses and one magnificent, cozy hostel: Ritoque Raices.

Ritoque Raices isn’t your typical hostel. It is more of a beach house maintained by 30 year old surfers. Seriously, what a life?! I wish I could be like them when I grow up…I just need to learn how to surf first.

If you’re not hitchhiking into town to buy food, which is the only reason to go to Quintero, then the only thing to do is relax on the beach or make bonfires. Every morning I woke up smelling like the nights previous bonfire…love it. Between hearing the crisp waves along the Pacific and buying divine bread from the Bread Man is what I call a chill time. In fact- it was a major chill session with other goodies involved too. Ha! I was only there for a couple days but I would strongly suggest if you’re going to make a stop in Quintero, then it is a must to spend 4-5 days in Ritoque. You do have to be the chiller type of person though or else you’ll die…NO BBMs amigos!

Ritoque was such a unique place- A place away from the world; a place for you to forget what’s going on in your life; a place to think about only the present. Even though I spent a short time there, I really connected with it and appreciated its simplicity. 

Ritoque Raices

Bonfire

                                                                                              

Valparaiso

 

You really have to be in good shape to walk the streets of Valparaiso (or at least bring your inhaler- it’ll save you a trip to the hospital). Each block is compiled of steep hills which is why it is a comparable image to San Francisco. Aside from the vertical inclines, the bohemian town is known for its intense graffiti artwork. Every stone wall, gate, and building is saturated with beautiful graffiti; it’s all over. It definitely wasn’t the type of graffiti you would picture in Harlem or East Saint Louis, but rather the graffiti I would purchase for my apartment (if that’s even possible?). It made me realize the creativity and underrated aspects of graffiti. It was purely beautiful.

My Dad’s friend, John, has a daughter, Laura, who studied her junior year abroad in Valparaiso. Post college, she decided to teach English there. We met up with her and she showed us around town. If you’re a tourist and you don’t have a guide or detailed map, then invest in a GPS. Each cobblestone street intersects with thousands of other cobblestone streets…I’m good with directions, and Valparaiso was beyond my directional-intellectual capacity. Too confusing. The city is routed similar to a maze minus the corn stalks. After walking around for several hours, we realized the streets are designed in a large, intertwined circle. Overall= get a GPS.

After splitting with Laura, we packed our backpacks and bussed to the most heavenly place of life: Ritoque…

Viña del Mar

When you say you’re going to Chile and you want the beach experience, then the place to go is Viña del Mar. It’s pretty much an unwritten law there. Viña del Mar is a 15 minute bus ride from Valparaiso, and its small city ambiance resembles Miami Beach (minus the Guido’s and steroids). I don’t have much to say about Viña del Mar considering the fact we literally spent the whole day baking under the scorching hot sun! A day so well worth the future damage. Come on, we looked great with our tans!

Matiz Pub

In one of Malcolm Gladwell’s books, he talks about the chance of bumping into random people halfway across the world. One may think what a coincidence or what a small world. In reality, coincidences are part of the natural world; it is a statistic that's bound to happen…

On that note, the strangest thing happened to us…

Here was the plan: leave Santiago, bus to Valparaiso, and meet up with the boys. Obvious problem: we had no cell phones; meaning, we had no idea how, when, or where we were going to meet up with them.

After arriving in the Valparaiso bus terminal, we got directions (via public transportation) to Licanantay Hostel. We stepped out of what seemed to be a sherut looking vehicle and headed to the hostel. Valparaiso is a spitting image of San Francisco, so after climbing hills upon hills and passing bars upon bars, we heard loud (and I mean piercing) voices calling our names. Guess who made those powerful screams? Yep, yep, that’s right- ze Aussies! Coincidence? Small world? Or simply the mere laws of the world? You tell me. On that note, they were sitting in Matiz Pub with a few drinks in hand and having what everyone should always be doing- a great time!

We quickly dropped our bags in the hostel and headed back down to Matiz. We kept on saying, it’s late and we don’t really want to spend money tonight because we’ve been spending a lot so far. Well, we were in for a surprise. A great surprise, indeed. We walked inside Matiz and sat down to order drinks. I shrieked once I saw the prices of the drinks! After converting the Chilean peso back to Argentinean pesos then into U.S. dollars, we came to the conclusion that one drink would cost 1$. ONE DOLLAR. ONE DOLLAR. ONE DOLLAR. So, you can imagine that we quickly reversed our initial plans for the night and stayed out pretty late.

Matiz was one of my favorite bars that I’ve been to during the last 3 months in South America. It was a small hole in the wall bar but with its’ own character. The bartenders were eagerly friendly and with the help of Henry, they played incredible music. (The music was, more or less, on the same level or even better than the music at Sugar…tough call though…). After delicious drinks and more delicious drinks, the song “6 AM” by The Holidays came on (thank you Henry!), and I think I died, seriously. I freaked out, stood on my chair, and danced like a crazy girl. (For those who know me, just imagine!) Ahhhhhh thinking back to that moment really was one of the best moments of my life. I was listening to my favorite song, in a bohemian town, with the greatest people I have ever met to this day! I hope everyone can have a moment like I did and remember it for the rest of their lives. I promise you it’s one of the best feelings, and now I will always be able to think back to that night. I felt complete, and I bet once you experience your own type of moment; you too will also feel complete.

By the end of the night, the eight of us- music snobs- pretty much owned the pub with our specific song requests and intricate dance moves. Cheers to great nights and great moments!

Santiago, Chile

Mote Con Huesillo

 

If you ask any person, read a guidebook, or browse the net- most sources say Santiago, Chile is simply a “passer-by” city---meaning, you only need 1-2 days there, max. It is unfortunate the capital city of Chile has this reputation because it is most definitely false. I had little expectations of Santiago. After spending a short time there, I immediately thought I could easily spend a few weeks there. Even though Santiago is populated with around 5 million people, ironically, it happens to be one of the quietest and peaceful cities I’ve ever visited. I rarely heard honking or the typical loud noises you would hear in East Village.  Every person I met was so kind and helpful; Chileans are, by far, the warmest people! It’s as if it’s a law to be nice to your fellow citizens.

As I walked through the streets of Santiago, I noticed how there’s no particular architectural style. There’s a mix of European, Latin, and modern buildings that occupy the streets but nothing that chants CHILEAN-style. As my Chilean friend recently told me- Chile is still considered a 3^rd world country (what does that mean anyways? In my opinion, that’s just simply a label…). For being an “uncivilized” country, I was flabbergasted when I saw the intense business and industrial emphasis on the city. I observed countless of citizens walking, talking, and breathing the high-profile, business lifestyle. Goodbye Wall-street, hello Santiago!

We walked through Cerro San Lucia, which is a beautiful park that’s built on a mountain. The paths in the park coiled around the mountain from the bottom to top. This venue was very fascinating because every path led towards the peak of the mountain. It reminded me of an upward maze; and once you hiked to the top (free of the maze) you were able to see some incredible views of Santiago and the Andes Mountains. It was beautiful. (Side note= Santiago is a semi-industrial city that’s situated in the middle of the Andes mountains, so no matter where you look- your view is of the Andes.)

We then walked to Armas Plaza where we saw handfuls of painters and civilians doing their daily activities…we stumbled upon an interesting drink called mote con huesillo…I’m not going to lie it’s the strangest concoction ever: on the bottom of the cup rests the trigo (barley), and the cup is filled with peaches and the juice from a peach fruit cup. (You drink/eat it with a spoon.) I know exactly what you’re thinking, “Gross. Yuck. And is she actually serious?” YES. It was the most amazing, refreshing drink I’ve ever had. (I like weird things, so when I saw this, it wasn’t even a question if I was going to buy it or not. I was the first to drink it, and boy was I thrilled. Amazing.) Mote con huesillo is very popular and the national summer drink of Santiago. People sold liters of it on every corner; it reminded me of all the shwarma stands along 34^th street. It was good stuff.

Oh this was weird—I was walking through the streets and then saw a few surprising signs. I saw Nine West, Hushpuppies, and Dunkin Donuts stores. I was in a total state of shock, mainly, because who shops at Hushpuppies anymore? Kidding, but seriously. I traveled all the way to South America to get out of the U.S., and here I was getting sucked back into it. (I really wanted a strawberry frosted donut, but my rule is that I only eat local foods in the specific country I’m in. So, eating D.D. in Chile wasn’t going to cut it for me.) It was a weird feeling experiencing globalization all the way in Santiago because even Argentina isn’t that “Americanized.” I think the craziest feeling was knowing Santiago has a Dunkin Donuts while Milwaukee doesn’t!

The next day we walked to Parque Forestral where we saw the most appetizing playground. We couldn’t resist. The five of us (Amy finally came) ran to the swings, and acted like kids again. I swung so high I was waiting for my Dad to run under my swing like he did when I was little! Haha! We then headed thru the park and 2 stray dogs kept following us. We named them Chile and Hannah (for purposes only us girls will have to keep secret!). We ended at Central Mercado where lots of produce and seafood is sold. (I bought the most sensational cherries there!) After my delicious indulgence, we headed to Bellavista. This area of Santiago is known as the hippy, bohemian sector---You can only imagine how much I loved it! The streets were extremely charming with the cutest craft markets, cafes, and restaurants.

We eventually made our way back to the hostel and took a bus to Valparaiso where we were supposed to meet up with the boys… 

 

Barrio Paris

View from the top of Cerro San Lucia

Busride from Mendoza to Santiago

Waking up in a hot, muggy hostel room with 12 bunkmates at 6:30am is NOT the most pleasant experience---especially if you’re rushing to make a 7:30am bus to Santiago. I think everyone in our room wanted to kill us…honestly, who cared, it’s not like we were ever going to see them again.

So after huffing and puffing, we scored the front 4 seats of the double-decker bus. The 7 hour drive from Mendoza, Argentina to Santiago, Chile is specifically through the Andes Mountains, so you can imagine what the scenery and view looked like…breathtaking! Ahhh it was gorgeous! About 4 hours into the ride, everyone had to get off the bus with their bags and go through immigration and border control. After Chilean officials almost arrested Shoni for “sneaking” an apple into Chile (god forbid produce should ever enter another country), we headed back onto the bus. The unexpected process took about an hour, which was fine because I came out with a cool Chilean passport stamp (and of course Shoni)…haha.

Haha it was actually really funny because by the 5^th hour of the ride we were abnormally bored. They eventually played Oceans 12…this was amazing news, right? Wrong. They decided to show the movie in Portuguese with Spanish subtitles. Seriously? At least play it in Spanish with Portuguese subtitles. I just don’t get it…it’s not like there were any Brazilians on the bus…ugh. This left me to “study” my Lonely Planet book and Lena’s Frommer’s Guidebook from cover to cover. (rule=stick with Lonely Planet…Frommer’s Guidebook sucks, and it’s geared for the average 50 year old who goes traveling post-retirement…meaning, the book doesn’t give you anything exciting to do.)

After seven hours, we finally made it to Santiago and attempted to understand the bizarre currency…

 

Hott Springs

 

Hot springs in Andes Mountains

Deciding on going to the hot springs instead of hiking Aconcagua began when…

Naïve thinking.

Not only is Mendoza the home of wine but it’s also the dwelling place of the Aconcagua--> the largest mountain in the Americas. Since hearing about this mountain, I decided when I go to Mendoza I’m going to climb it. Well, clearly, that was wishful thinking. The day was approaching and Lena and I were getting pumped about climbing it. After inquiring about the hike, the hostel told me we need to get a license to climb it, which takes a few days to get, and aside from that- the actual hike can take days (meaning, we weren't able to do it in one day). So that explains that.

Hot springs here I come!

Of course we were late when we wanted to sign up for the package deal for the hot springs---the only advantage of going through the company was the door-to-door pickup. We originally thought, big deal; who cares about the convenient transportation, we’ll figure it out on our own. After a few hitch hikes and bus rides we finally made it to the springs. Well, at least we thought we did. We ended up at the public springs instead of the private ones, oops. I think on any day we would have been happy with the public springs but that day happen to be one of Argentina’s many redundant public holidays. We contemplated on going to the public springs but there were heaps of people and it kind of had that grimy, unpleasant feel to it. So we nixed the idea. Going to the public springs probably would’ve been one of the worst hygienic decisions of life. Seriously.  The decision was made, and on we went to search for the private springs in the hotel.

Let me remind you--> since we didn’t do the group deal and got dropped off at the wrong springs we came across an unexpected adventure. We trekked through fields upon fields and train tracks upon train tracks just to get to the hotel. All because we didn’t sign up for the package deal. Oh well. Next time. After our tired legs arrived at the hotel…the aura of the hotel was the kind that infused a relaxation spell all around (dunno if that makes sense, but you get the point...). We were in complete awe. The type of awe we related to Heaven (ok, maybe not Heaven, but something like it). This epic spa included: natural springs in the Andean mountains, pools, mud rooms, saunas, sauna-caves, massages, and more. What could be better?

Aside from the natural springs, which were amazing, my favorite part was the mud room. The point of the mud is for you to smear it all over your body and let it dry. Once it’s dry you wash it off and magically have smooth skin. Legit. I got a little carried away and poured bucket-size gobs of mud all over my body…lets just say, it took an extensive amount of time for it to dry. One guy, who was more extreme than me (didn’t know that could be possible), rubbed mud all over his body; including his hair…seriously. Either he was very excited, didn’t know what to do, or acquired true dedication to his body.  Probably all three.

The amount of time we spent in the springs was unfathomable. Later that day we got massages. At that point I was so relaxed I couldn’t even feel my limbs. Someone could have easily mistaken the amount of oil that was rubbed all over my body for the oil that’s served with bread in a restaurant. It took a lot of showers that day for all the oil to come off my body…kind of gross.

So even though I didn’t end up hiking Mt. Aconcagua, I had the best time in the springs….I felt like I was 50, but it was fantastic!

trekking to the private springs along train tracks

Malbecing thru Mendoza

wine vineyards

Tropiche winery

Have you ever seen the movie “A Walk in the Clouds?” (Keanu Reeves and a Hispanic actress are the main actors in the movie…it’s worth the rental.) Well, when I went biking in Mendoza, I felt like the Hispanic actress biking thru vineyards on unpaved roads and feeling free. I pretended to live vicariously through the actress because everything that day was as if it was a scene taken from her movie. Ahhhh what I would do to own a vineyard and make wine? The lifestyle is relaxing and laidback (and living in warm weather is always a plus). Everywhere we biked, everything we ate, and everything we did that day was simply perfect.

We rented bikes from a rental place called Maipu Bikes and biked to many wineries and also chocolate, jam, olive oil, liquor, and absinthe vineyards. For only 25 pesos (6 $US) we were given bikes (with cute baskets to place our bags…very “500 Days of Summer” style) for the full day, a bottle of water, and a glass of wine (if we’re being honest, it was gross wine). After a few bruises and falls into each other, we finally made it to our first winery.

There are small and big ones; renowned and lesser known ones; and fancy and simple ones. Overall, each winery is very unique. I wish I could remember the names, but my memory won’t allow me to. (If you’re planning on going…Maipu Bikes will give you a list of wineries to visit.) The first vineyard we biked to drastically increased our age by 15 years...we walked into the winery and the lady showed us around and told us about their wine. We bought a bottle and shared it because we didn’t want to go heavy at 10AM- we were still stopping at 7 other wineries. We sat on tree trunks in the heart of the vineyard and sipped our vino tinto (red wine) and felt very sophisticated (hence why I said we dramatically aged at this winery). After quite some time we made our way to the next winery and so on and so on.

We did however bike to a chocolate, jam, olive oil, liquor and absinthe vineyard (yes, a weird combination, but I didn’t make it…I just enjoyed it). We started off trying different olive oils then jams then chocolates and then to the big stuff--- flavored liquors and absinthe. My favorite liquor was the coco (chocolate-coconut) flavor…definitely worth the try! After tasting the various liquors, they lit a fire and began roasting sugar on silver spoons and melted it into the absinthe filled glasses. When it was ready, we cheered and downed those atrocious shots (Mom and Dad please don’t read…!) and felt a burning tingling go through my esophagus. Don’t ever do it…it was the grossest alcohol I’ve ever tasted. Aside from that, it was really cool going to this vineyard because it had a homey feel to it and everything was made there.

All the wineries close at 5PM, and that’s about the time the Beer Gardens start hopping. After biking and tasting wine in all seven wineries, we decided to make our final destination point be The Beer Gardens. It was quite amusing because when I walked in the “gardens” I instantaneously felt like I was back in Moshav Modiin but without Zelda. The layout of the “gardens” was the chillest place on earth. There were couches and chairs covered in bohemian tapestry placed either in tents or in the shade. The grass and tables were saturated with peanuts and their shells (you know, the kind you would find at the Brewer’s game?) The amount of Bob Marley that was played definitely didn’t bother the owners…yes, we get it…this place is for free-spirits. And, there was a bar to buy drinks. While everyone ordered beer, I prohibited my body from allowing alcohol to enter my body---so I ordered a multi-fruit liquado (smoothie). I don’t know what they put in the liquado, but it was the best one I’ve ever had…even Jamie thought so! Ahhhh The Beer Gardens was a great way to end the day…

After loosing the boys, we raced back to the bike rental place. Not only did Jamie, Henry, and Nick mysteriously arrive before us, they gave us the famous free glasses of wine the rental place handed out. Even though it was free it didn’t matter how much wine we drank that day, there was no way anyone was going to make us drink it. It was alarming that they would even serve it…I guess that’s why it was free.

That being said, biking through the wineries and vineyards made me realize how valuable time is. The eight of us click really well and didn’t let a minute go by without having a good time…the laughter that came out of us that day was memorable.

If you’re going to Mendoza, it’s a must to visit a winery or maybe seven...

Beer Gardens

Mendoza

I painfully didn’t charge my ipod for the 18 hour bus ride from Bariloche to Mendoza, but it wasn’t a big deal considering the fact I drove through the most beautiful view of life. It was ok there was no more juice in my ipod because (I can’t believe I’m about to say this) for the first time in my life something was better than listening to music…the view outside the window simply beat listening to my music…I know, that’s how good it was.

What also made the bus ride fantastic was the grand game of BINGO…yeah, that’s right—the entire bus played BINGO! The best part was the winner received a free bottle of wine…too bad I didn’t win. (Mom, I wish you were there because between your luck at BINGO and me rooting for you...we would've won that bottle!) Next time...

Mendoza is considered the Napa-Valley of Argentina. It’s the largest wine-producing region in all of Latin America. Wine is not only a big influence in Buenos Aires (or all over Argentina for that matter) but in Mendoza it plays a vast role in every day life.  People practically breath wine there…and they do it with class. So, the next bottle of wine you drink (and if it’s a good one), you’ll probably notice it’s from Mendoza (or maybe Chile).

While the seven of us were in line waiting for a cab at the bus terminal, some guy walked up to us asking if we needed a ride. Being frugal travelers, we barked at his question and said, “YES!” He responded by saying, “Ok--- follow me to my car.” We did. After walking 2 blocks to get to his beat up cruiser, the seven of us crammed (and I mean CRAMMED) into the back of this man’s car. You’re probably wondering why we didn’t wait to take 2 cabs…great question. Well the thing is when you’re traveling, the common rule between all backpackers is that you’ll do pretty much anything to save money---and that’s why we chose our Jefe (boss); we wanted to each save 3 pesos…you gotta love the traveler’s life-style…it’s amazing! After repeatedly turning on and off his car, Jefe’s engine started working. He finally dropped us off at Damajuana Hostel.

WOW. Damajuana isn’t your average hostel. It’s more of a, let me think, it’s definitely “the” hostel to stay at in Mendoza. The hostel was an old house converted into a hostel. If you like the grungy, loud, and little sleep environment, then stay here. The seven of us walked into our hot, muggy dorm room and noticed there were about 16 beds and each one was taken with people’s smelly towels and bags. Yuck. Our room had awful circulation and the living conditions were poor, but the amenities and location of the hostel were outstanding. There was an outdoor pool, a bar in the hostel, and it was on the main street in Mendoza. It was a great hostel to meet other interesting backpackers.

Mendoza has so much to offer and is a great city. It’s very metropolitan. The Andes Mountains are near by for trekking, there are heaps of wineries, and rafting, horse-back riding, paragliding and the hot-spring are also close by. Mendoza is definitely a place everyone should visit if you’re in Argentina or Chile. After my few days in Mendoza, I really can say I felt the essence of the Napa Valleys!

Biking in Bariloche

I don’t care what people say- biking through mountains is definitely not an easy task to fulfill. While we were in Bariloche we decided to partake in a 27Km bike ride (18-20 miles) through the mountains. (Side noteà When I’m home in the summers, I usually go on 15-20 mile bike rides and barely break a sweat (ok- that’s clearly an exaggeration) but the point is these bike rides are not strenuous.) The bike ride we encountered in Bariloche definitely did not fall under the category of leisure bike rides. We primarily rode uphill or downhill and by uphill I mean we walked our bikes up steep mountains and prayed to reach the peak so we could cruise down these drastic hills. (Yes, we pretty much paid 65 pesos to walk our bikes…but it was definitely worth the price.) Flat roads simply weren’t part of the equation on this biking excursion.

We couldn’t have asked for a better day to go biking. The bright sun shined down on the glimmering water and snowcapped mountains which made the day perfect. It was really cool because there were 7 designated look-out points to observe the views…we obviously stopped 28 other times…or more…but these “resting points” captured the most beautiful views of Bariloche. The glistening sun, radiant snowcapped mountains, clear-blue waters, and cloudless skies were magically placed in each view point. It was unreal. Every where I turned I kept on thinking I was in a different world---A world that only focused on the beauty and simplicity of nature because after all that was the world I was living in at that exact moment.

Peddling was, unquestionably, a challenge that day. The altitude, the scorching sun, and continuously walking our bikes up steep mountains did not make for an easy day; however, it was certainly an accomplishing adventure. The amount of laughter I (and we) exerted that day was unreal. I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard since Mach Hach (my summer program in Israel) or my NCSY days with Alana! Literally it got to the point when Mayber and I physically couldn’t bike nor walk our bikes- We “fell” on the side of the road so many times due to laughter (and mainly because we were out of breath and watching her use her inhaler was hilarious….I guess I was jealous because I was in major need of a puff, but couldn’t find mine…I probably lost it!) Jajaj! It got to the point when people who were walking walked faster than us (even when we rode our bikes…sad but true). It was as if we metamorphosed into snails and turtles. Something was definitely in the air that day because we uncontrollably lost it when Mayber said, “Now I know what a mule feels like.” Sauntering up mountains and shlepping our bikes was definitely brutal but it allowed for a great bonding day.

As the day went on, we remembered how the bike rental shop warned us by the last 7Km of the route the traffic drastically increases as the day progresses. The validity of that statement couldn’t be truer. Lena and I were extremely wiped, and I didn’t realize I started zigzagging on the street. All of a sudden I heard the obnoxious sounds of an annoyed man blasting his horn. It was the style of honking only a loud semi-truck could exert; however, it came from an old, beat up Chevrolet. How that was possible is still unfathomable to me? I was oblivious and didn’t pay attention to the honking and assumed he was honking at a different car. Lena was biking a few feet ahead of me and thought it was directed at her, but she turned around and saw me in the middle of the street and signaled me to move over. The guy in the Chevrolet rolled down his window and cursed the life out at us and continued driving. Yep, he was clearly honking at me. Oh well. Once again, all Lena and I could do was hysterically laugh. (Haà Dad, I know you’re not laughing right now but at the time it was hilarious.) I know it was the wrong reaction but something that day made us uncontrollably laugh.

After almost dying from the car, we finally made it back to the rental shop. So, remember Hott-Nick? The guy from the hike? Well, he also decided to do the bike ride and left around the same time as we did. Shockingly, at the end of the day he handsomely rode into the rental shop (looking perfect) at the same time as us. We automatically thought wow, here’s hott-Nick, who is clearly fit, he started and ended the bike ride at the same time as us…I guess we weren’t slow after all. I can’t believe we actually thought that because here was the main difference: Hott-Nick went on an hour excursion and did the chair lift (which takes an extra 30 minutes) all while we were still biking on the route. I guess we were slow…

At the end of the day we conquered this demanding bike ride (at least we thought it was) and had an amazing day. We laughed, saw dreamlike views, and made the best out of the day. If you’re in Bariloche (in the summer time) doing this strenuous bike ride is worth it…just bring your inhaler and a giant water bottle! You probably won’t even think it’s hard, after all Hott-Nick thought it was simple. Try it…