End of the Earth.

It's been over a month since I left the stinky confines of Buenos Aires and traveled to the end of the Earth for ten days of fresh air and natural beauty in the famously dramatic landscapes of Patagonia at the furthest end of the continent of South America.  Little did I know the profound effect it would have on the deepest parts of my being as I realized I was in the most beautiful place I have ever been; my own personal paradise.  I found myself unable to express in words the beauty that surrounded me in the towns and mountains I visited.  These photos taken with my crappy little digital camera certainly do no justice to how wonderful of a place Patagonia is, but as the famous saying goes "A picture is worth a thousand words".  In this case, these pictures are only a few of what I took in order to replace the loss for words I experienced in this most stunning of landscapes that the planet is hiding in its southernmost reaches.

It's no mystery that the Patagonian Andes are full of enormous glaciers.  Yes people, I, a hater of all things snow and cold, willingly visited a 2.5 mile wide glacier and watched pieces of ice the size of a house break and fall into the water as this tremendous river of ice advances at a snails pace.  The resounding "BOOM" that echoed throughout the mountain sides as the pieces of ice broke and fell was enough to send chills through my body even on the warmest of Patagonian days.

There is a quality to the sky in Patagonia that is difficult to describe.  The clouds were the lowest and closest to the land I've ever seen.  The sky literally sits right on top of you; at times I felt I could reach up and touch the clouds.  It was as though the sky hugs the earth, hanging on as close as it can in order not to fall off the end of the planet into outer space.

Typical Patagonian landscape: seemingly endless shrubby and grassy rolling hills, lonely roads, whilst in the distance loom the most daunting and dramatic of Andean peaks, beckoning all dreamers.

If El Chaltén is in this direction, I'm there!  Could this be any more gorgeous?

It is the texture of the landscape that I found to be so unbelievable, so otherworldly.  The way in which the grasses and shrubs grow, the texture of the rocks and hills, the meandering streams slowly fed by enormous glaciers, the trees changing in autumn with their wind-whipped branches.  I didn't know that texture of landscape is something I would ever be so enamored with.  This is where the lack of words begins to overcome me and sheer emotion consumes me. . . 

Nothing says "End of the Earth" quite like a rusted out Dodge and a lonely power line.

Patagonia is known for its ever-changing weather, which on this day slightly obscured my view of the famous Fitz Roy peak.  It's not as though it takes away from the beauty in any way and, in fact, adds to the mystery of what it must be like up there.

 Seriously?  Kill me now, I'm already in heaven.

Transport me to another dimension.

I lived in Bogotá, that is no mystery to those familiar with Barbers Without Borders.  One of the single most amazing/annoying/mind blowing things about Bogotá is that there is a seemingly infinite number of buses and bus lines, but no fixed bus stops.  Take a minute and think what this means. . . Is your minute over?  It means that the Colombians stood on the side of any road, usually quite busy roads, and waved their finger in the air to flag down a bus causing the bus to jerk wildly to the side of the road to pick up the passenger.  Take another minute and imagine what this means in a city of 8 million residents, living in high density. . . After your minute is over there is only two words that should come to mind:  shit, show. 

The Botogano buses would jerk wildly in and out of traffic at the flick of a finger(not that finger, usually the pointer)jamming on the gas and brakes with fury.  Sometimes two or three people would stand like ten meters apart and flag the same bus, increasing the jerking in and out, the punching of the gas and slamming of the brakes.  It was one of the most incredible messes I've ever seen.  This seems mind boggling to those of us familiar with the efficiency and reliability of first world public transport.  Really, it is as fantastic of a mess that can be imagined.  

Now to make a South American comparison.  The city of Buenos Aires is about twice the population of Bogotá, with estimates of about 15 million residents.  There is something like 350 different bus lines, a subway with limited range and a larger train system that goes to the further reaches of the city.  Buenos Aires also has some of the better functioning traffic that I've seen, but please don't picture anything too functional, it's all relative.  

The BA bus system is supported by a pocket sized guide that aids one in finding their way around this huge city on the right bus for their pick up and destination.  All of this has been useful and as efficient as can be expected.  The reason I write this post is that though it is a far more functional system than the mess of Bogotá, it is still South America and one of the funniest things I've seen is the picture above.  

One of my first days here, my roommate showed me the Guia T(the bus guide), taught me how to use it, and then made point to tell me that I had to look out for the bus stop signs because it could be as inconspicuous as a sticker with a number stuck to a post on the side of the road.  In the above pictured case, it is two numbered placards nailed to a tree.  How's that for a bus stop?!  Just look for the tree with the two random numbers nailed to it, that's your bus.  FAR more efficient than standing anywhere waving one's finger wildly as the desired bus approaches.  At least in this case one can enjoy the shade of a tree, and for men the bus stop even doubles as a bathroom.  You think I'm kidding?  I wish I was.  They'll piss anywhere.

I am eternally grateful for the luxury of fixed bus stops in Buenos Aires and the accompanying Guia T to help me get around.  The bus system here is actually a very good service provided by this city, and at the cost of about $.25USD per ride, it's quite the affordable journey.  However, I won't stand too close to the tree.

At the push of a button.

I'm desperately uninspired so this leaves me no other choice but to write about toilets.  This is not my first time writing about toilets and bathrooms(refer to "How to use a Japanese toilet" for further entertainment).  There could literally be an encyclopedia written about the ways and places in which we rid ourselves of digested steak and old coffee the world over, thus the second installment of Barbers Without Borders Encyclopedia of the World's Toilets commences. 

One of my first days in Buenos Aires I began to notice a lack of toilet tanks in bathrooms.  There was just a long button sticking out of the wall, some toilet paper(maybe), a toilet(hopefully) and sometimes a small waste basket.  There was no other visible means by which to flush the toilet so I figured I'd have to give this ambiguous button a try.  Couldn't hurt, right?  Voila, it flushes the toilet.  No surprise there necessarily.  However, the funny thing to me about all of this is it leaves an air of mystery(no pun intended)as to where the actual toilet tank is and how the water gets from the button into the bowl, and beyond.  In the below picture we can see sort of a ghost image of where a round tank used to be, but what happened to it?  Where did it go and who decided to send it to its grave?  So many unanswered questions.

The other part of this mystery is where is the water coming from now?  Is there a tank hidden in the wall that is so ugly we could not possibly be bothered to look at it while going?  Or is it some sort of system that just uses a certain dose of water from a general source?  Is there little leprechauns that live inside the wall providing access to their waters for the waste removal of human beings to yet another world unknown?  Barbers Without Borders has research to do.  Will I do this research?  No, I could actually care less, but it makes for good writing.

Another unexplained phenomena of Argentine bathrooms, that unfortunately I do not have photo evidence of, is the presence of bidets.  I have been informed by many however that most people here do not use the bidet.  I'm like WTF?  There's nothing quite like cool water running over one's nether regions after "getting the job done" for a cleansing and refreshing experience.  Better than just moving the poo around with some rough paper posing as tissue.  Sometimes I feel as though the Argentines are devolving.  Though this leaves me with one final question:  Who am I to say that people are devolving when I'm the one writing about toilets?

The best policy.

 There's sometimes an illusion about being in another country as this fantastic experience where every minute of the day is some inspiring, wonderful moment followed by another.  Like in every direction should be something new and fantastic.  Let me burst that bubble.  Honestly, this sucks.  Arriving to another country in attempt to live is got to be one of the dumbest things I ever do, but in the end is also one of the smartest.  Let me indulge you.

Now, I add the disclaimer that I realize I have only been here three weeks and I know my feelings will change the longer I am here and the  more I truly get to know this city, country and culture.  I even was given the advice by an older American expat couple last week to "give it time, it takes a while to know this place".  Time is obviously what I need to invest, but in the meanwhile, I vent!

Before arriving to Buenos Aires, I had heard nothing but how fantastic the city was.  I listened to sentiments of how "European" it is, how delicious the food is, how cheap everything is, how the people are so wonderful and inviting.  Three weeks in I have decided that Europe must be a dump, that white bread, pasta, potatoes and overcooked meat is considered gourmet to many, and that "cheap" is most definitely a relative term.  I have yet to know many of the local people here, but let me say they are keeping the pockets of tobacco companies full up.  Sure the porteños(as the residents of Buenos Aires are called)are a lovely and friendly type of folk, but I have little to no tolerance for cigarette smoking, thus making it difficult to desire a conversation with many of them.

Perhaps I'm a jaded traveler, um, obviously I'm a jaded traveler.  I find that Buenos Aires is just another huge, stinky South American city.  I'm lost when it comes to seeing the charm that so many speak so highly of.  High population density coupled with broken sidewalks covered with dog shit makes for a real life video game when walking anywhere.  Avoid the bombs!  Not to mention the millions of cars and buses belching their fumes into the air 24/7, oftentimes directly into one's face.  I don't even need to hang around smokers, I'm getting enough of it in the air everyday.  The air here is certainly not so Bueno as the name of the city suggests.  

I find myself asking why the hell I thought it was a good idea to come here.  I remember full well the reasons, and they are still valid.  I really, honestly had few expectations upon arrival, but I had an imagined idea of what it may be like here.  Wow, how different the reality. . .  I must admit that even in the short time I have been here, I have had to face some very serious demons.  I have had to learn patience and understanding in a way I previously have not allowed myself to experience.  I have realized what a knee-jerk reaction I have for wanting to leave when things aren't perfect.  And I am realizing that the best things in my life more often than not, started out very difficult.  All of these things are what makes this perhaps one of the smartest things that I do; learning invaluable lessons that otherwise would have remained hidden if I had remained hidden in my comfort zone.  Sheesh, there's got to be an easier way!

So I follow the advice of the experienced expats here and allow for time to hopefully show me this fabled lovely personality of Buenos Aires.  I will endure, I will continue to be patient(a relative term for me as well), and I will do my best to avoid piles of dog crap on the sidewalks whilst not falling into a hole after tripping over a broken chunk of concrete.        

I eat babies.

I recently purchased a some organic carrots at a farmers market in my new neighborhood in Buenos Aires, and this little guy was hiding in the bunch.  Gives a new definition to the term "baby carrot".

Common sense.

Graffiti never ceases to entertain me.  This has got to rank up there with the best of all time.  Translation: "That common sense may protect you."  Yeah, because nothing says that like a cat in a spacesuit.  Thank you Space Cat for your timeless advice.

To: The City of Angels

Los Angeles,

Where can I possibly begin for how I feel about you and our time together?  Well, for starters, you kept me longer than any city has, besides my hometown of Denver.  Congratulations, that is no small feat considering my gypsy nature.  Once I arrived to you, I knew I was going to stick, I had to, my life depended on it.  Funny thing is I only sort of knew it at the time.  

I came to you hurt and lost.  I came to you for a simple few reasons including, but not limited to, good weather(it rained ten days straight when I arrived), my ability to work(Floyd's rocks!), and that I would not be alone(The Jens).  I landed in one of your uniquely LA community living situations where I had an instant group of like-minded people.  I cannot thank you enough for this!  My experience in LA, the growth I achieved with you would never have been possible if you had not given me Bobby's communities.  From them, I grew my own community, and that is one of the greatest gifts I've ever given myself or the world.  I may not be able to personally grow very deep roots, but I have learned that through my ability to create, that there are deep roots in this world and within myself as a result.

You presented to me, after my first year with you, the greatest challenge of my life to date: to dig deeply into my life, to clear the most damaging events, to discover and live as my true Self.  The final straw for this was minor in hindsight, but what it opened up was very powerful and I could run no longer.  I knew I had to change, I knew it would suck, I knew it would be scary and depressing and difficult, I knew it was 110% necessary.  It was all those things and the results are bigger than I realized was possible.  You tested me more authentically than any other place, you never gave up on me, and though I teetered on the edge, I never gave up on you either.  Thank you for staying by  my side, continuing to provide me with what I needed and I know that I always have a safety net called Los Angeles.

So many people complain about your people.  If I've learned anything about life, it's that people suck everywhere, and people are awesome everywhere.  You are no exception, you just have a tremendous amount of people!  You have the people that have had the most profound effects on my life ever to happen.  First is my dear friend and brother Charles, and his Fat Boy, Toby.  Because of these two, my life is dramatically and forever changed.  Charles taught me how to heal and change my body through dedication to only the most high quality nutrition.  Charles showed me generosity unmatched by any others in my life.  Toby is highly responsible for me overcoming my deep fear of dogs.  I will miss and I love those two so much but I know that you work through them to change the lives of many and that you need them.  Madison and Joe are also necessary to thank you for.  How this other Colorado girl and I came together in your arms, and how much time we spent listening to the ramblings of Joe is something very special to me.  I healed so much of my past with these two and I am able to be the powerful woman that I am because you gave me Mad Mad and Joga. 

What a fantastically powerful and dynamic place you are!  Truly an energy center of our planet.  What you draw, what you create cannot be denied.  You are gorgeous, and isn't that exactly what so many come to you hoping to hear?

I know that though I learned so much with you, that some of your greatest lessons from you are to be learned as I reflect on our time together.  I forever have a home with you, you will never totally get rid of me now.  I will return time and time again, at least to visit, perhaps to live yet again.  Please watch over my things on Jefferson, please continue to nurture my community and please let Joey get a haircut that he likes so I don't have to hear him complain from half way around the world.

I love you Los Angeles, and I am forever grateful for the true angels that you have.

Your child, Sarah