there are travel ramblings that remain to be posted, but now that i am back in the land of children, my thoughts have *temporarily* returned to them.
i was doing some marking (GASP!) after school this afternoon (what a concept... perhaps this is something i should be doing all along, and not only when i have marks to submit!), and i got some insights through their eyes. over the break, i had an optional homework assignment (i know, i'm a terrible person; but don't worry, there are prizes involved) which involved writing sentences about miss sarah.
here are a few things they wrote about yours truly. edited for clarity purposes. ha.
"you are the funniest, goofiest and the nicest."
"but most i love about you is that you always don't want to miss school because you want to be with your friends and us."
[if you only knew...!]
"miss sarah told us to write 5 sentences about her."
[she likes to get straight to the point]
"miss sarah is always gonna be miss sarah."
[points for insight!]
"when she is mad she always says, i'm very disappointed"
[oh goodness. i sound like my mother.]
"i hope you could come to 3rd grade, we are never bored in 2F because you always do something fun, like morning activities"
"you are the best teacher in the world!"
[well... i wouldn't go that far. let's keep things in perspective, now.]
enough about me. this next assignment was to draw or write a representation or response to the book called 'the important book'. the kids could really do whatever they wanted, as long as they demonstrated to me how they were thinking about the book. from their perspective, the world seems so simple and clear:
"the important thing about a desk is that you can open it and close it."
"the important thing of an orange is that it is delicious"
"the important thing about a soccer ball is that you can kick it."
"the important thing about a sumo is that he is fat."
"the important thing about a tree is that it gives you oxygen. the trees give house to little slimy tickly creatures, they are bright like shiny blossom but the most important thing is that they give people oxygen in the world."
"something special about a mitten is that it can keep you warm by the snow and you can put it on because if you are going to do a snowman, your hands aren't going to freeze."
and my most insightful words of advice from 8 year olds are last:
"the important thing about love is that you feel fuzzy and you have someone to be with you until you die or separate."
"the meaning of the book is that everything has a use and everything is very important and nice and we should appreciate what we have. the important thing about something good is that it has something bad, and something bad always has something good."
i don't think i could have said it better!
Monday, March 31, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
surf's up.
in case you were worried, we did find a place to crash for our first night in puerto escondito. in fact, it was a simple place actually recommended in the lonely planet! other then the fact it was up four steep flights of stairs, we were happy campers.
the best part about this chapter of our trip, is that we just rolled with it. we didn't make any real plans, and when things needed to change, we just let it happen. i was right at home on the oaxacan coast. in terms of vacation (for me), this is when it truly began. everything i did was purely for my own enjoyment: sunbathing, sleeping, watching surfers, drinking mojitos, sunbathing, eating, reading, sunbathing...
i made a REAL effort when:
i read two full books (mostly while lying in a hammock)
we navigated our way from puerto escondito to zipolite (only to immediately find an indent for myself in the sand)
i lathered my entire body with sunscreen each morning AND reapplied (my march resolution)
i walked the whole length of the beach in zipolite (but thought i'd have a little rest before turning back)
you get the picture.
puerto escondito was discovered by surfer's long ago because of the infamous 'mexican pipeline' along the playa zicatela beach. while we couldn't really swim because of the harsh undertoe, we had an impeccable view of all the surfer's riding the waves. it was certainly not immersion in mexican culture, but more of an exploration of surfing culture: too bad neither of us can actually surf! it was fun, though, to have a concentration of healthy restaurants, surf stores and cheap accomodation. it felt more like daytona beach then mexico.
zipolite was a small, hedonistic town that draws travellers and sucks them in, never letting them leave. you lose all sense of time and place in zipolite, and when you leave, you definitely have no idea what day it is. it is the only beach in mexico where nudity is legal and chillin' out is a form of employment. it was the perfect place to forget the world, find a hammock, eat with your feet in the sand surrounding by candles... a definite budget traveller's scene. ginny and i could have spent longer, but after two days of nothing, we sadly left, albeit with sand still between our toes.
the best part about this chapter of our trip, is that we just rolled with it. we didn't make any real plans, and when things needed to change, we just let it happen. i was right at home on the oaxacan coast. in terms of vacation (for me), this is when it truly began. everything i did was purely for my own enjoyment: sunbathing, sleeping, watching surfers, drinking mojitos, sunbathing, eating, reading, sunbathing...
i made a REAL effort when:
i read two full books (mostly while lying in a hammock)
we navigated our way from puerto escondito to zipolite (only to immediately find an indent for myself in the sand)
i lathered my entire body with sunscreen each morning AND reapplied (my march resolution)
i walked the whole length of the beach in zipolite (but thought i'd have a little rest before turning back)
you get the picture.
puerto escondito was discovered by surfer's long ago because of the infamous 'mexican pipeline' along the playa zicatela beach. while we couldn't really swim because of the harsh undertoe, we had an impeccable view of all the surfer's riding the waves. it was certainly not immersion in mexican culture, but more of an exploration of surfing culture: too bad neither of us can actually surf! it was fun, though, to have a concentration of healthy restaurants, surf stores and cheap accomodation. it felt more like daytona beach then mexico.
zipolite was a small, hedonistic town that draws travellers and sucks them in, never letting them leave. you lose all sense of time and place in zipolite, and when you leave, you definitely have no idea what day it is. it is the only beach in mexico where nudity is legal and chillin' out is a form of employment. it was the perfect place to forget the world, find a hammock, eat with your feet in the sand surrounding by candles... a definite budget traveller's scene. ginny and i could have spent longer, but after two days of nothing, we sadly left, albeit with sand still between our toes.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
out of luck.
when we first landed on the oaxacan coast we thought we were the luckiest two gals on the face of the planet:
*we had avoided the 6 hour vomit express bus that weaves through the mountains from oaxaca city to puerto escondito by flying in a mini plane with a much better view in only 40 minutes!
*we found carmen's cafecito which served the most delicious cinnamon rolls and chocolate croissants on earth.
*the beach in puerto escondito stretched out for miles, and we had a perfect view from our beach lounge chairs of the mexican pipeline, where all the surfers do their tricks.
*we were so happy about our delicious healthy lunch consisting of hummus and salad that we ignored the fact that our hostel was on a dirt road in the shoddy part of town...
until. our luck all changed.
we returned to our hostel after our day of perfection, and the owner (let's call him crazy steve, as we later found out the locals call him), had still not shown his face. many other backpackers assured us that he was slightly odd, but that we would definitely have a place to sleep. for example, crazy steve had screwed up the bookings for another group, so they had slept on the couch. luvely.
staying calm, cool and collected, we decided there was nothing we could do except continue to ride our streak of luck. it was decided that we should just go enjoy our dinner and hope that there would be a bed to sleep in when we returned. as we were about to leave, as luck would have it, crazy steve walked in the door. crazy steve had given away our room because he did not know that we were coming, even though our luggage was there and we had paid a down payment on a reservation.
crazy steve: 'grunt. grunt. well you should have told me you were comin'
us: 'we did. we made a reservation. look on these papers on your desk. our name is right there.'
crazy steve: 'well, i don't know bout all those papers. grunt. grunt. why didn't you come back during check in?'
us: 'you don't have a check in time. and you weren't here when we came to check in.'
crazy steve: (now talking to his bird) 'oh well, bloody ell, how was i sposed to know that you were comin. what should i do? it is high season and someone told me that you guys were going to be in the dorm room. grunt.'
us: 'well, um, who would have told you that? we don't know anyone here. um, do you have a room for us? or should we just leave?'
crazy steve continued to yell, swear and blame us for coming to his hostel. his solution was to kick out the couple who had our room, but they had also reserved and made an online payment. realizing that he was totaly mad (like the hatter), we packed up our bags and walked out (even though we knew it was the busiest weeks of the year and our chances of finding accomodations were slim). but we were empowered! we were making our statement to crazy steve!
and then it started to rain. and we could not get a cab. our luck had taken a turn for the worst.
and i'll leave it at that for today. check back tomorrow to find out what happens to our two heroines!
*we had avoided the 6 hour vomit express bus that weaves through the mountains from oaxaca city to puerto escondito by flying in a mini plane with a much better view in only 40 minutes!
*we found carmen's cafecito which served the most delicious cinnamon rolls and chocolate croissants on earth.
*the beach in puerto escondito stretched out for miles, and we had a perfect view from our beach lounge chairs of the mexican pipeline, where all the surfers do their tricks.
*we were so happy about our delicious healthy lunch consisting of hummus and salad that we ignored the fact that our hostel was on a dirt road in the shoddy part of town...
until. our luck all changed.
we returned to our hostel after our day of perfection, and the owner (let's call him crazy steve, as we later found out the locals call him), had still not shown his face. many other backpackers assured us that he was slightly odd, but that we would definitely have a place to sleep. for example, crazy steve had screwed up the bookings for another group, so they had slept on the couch. luvely.
staying calm, cool and collected, we decided there was nothing we could do except continue to ride our streak of luck. it was decided that we should just go enjoy our dinner and hope that there would be a bed to sleep in when we returned. as we were about to leave, as luck would have it, crazy steve walked in the door. crazy steve had given away our room because he did not know that we were coming, even though our luggage was there and we had paid a down payment on a reservation.
crazy steve: 'grunt. grunt. well you should have told me you were comin'
us: 'we did. we made a reservation. look on these papers on your desk. our name is right there.'
crazy steve: 'well, i don't know bout all those papers. grunt. grunt. why didn't you come back during check in?'
us: 'you don't have a check in time. and you weren't here when we came to check in.'
crazy steve: (now talking to his bird) 'oh well, bloody ell, how was i sposed to know that you were comin. what should i do? it is high season and someone told me that you guys were going to be in the dorm room. grunt.'
us: 'well, um, who would have told you that? we don't know anyone here. um, do you have a room for us? or should we just leave?'
crazy steve continued to yell, swear and blame us for coming to his hostel. his solution was to kick out the couple who had our room, but they had also reserved and made an online payment. realizing that he was totaly mad (like the hatter), we packed up our bags and walked out (even though we knew it was the busiest weeks of the year and our chances of finding accomodations were slim). but we were empowered! we were making our statement to crazy steve!
and then it started to rain. and we could not get a cab. our luck had taken a turn for the worst.
and i'll leave it at that for today. check back tomorrow to find out what happens to our two heroines!
the hitchhikers guide to oaxaca city.
in honour of semana santa, school's out for two weeks. YES! i honestly think i may have been more excited then my kids when the bell rang on friday. it had been a rough month. without boring you with the details, it was a mixture of problems that included dumb boys (not my students!), my grandmother passing, beginning my masters, my workload at school and general staff unhappiness at work.
i could not wait to get out of dirty, polluted, crowded monterrey.
for our first week, ginny and i decided to explore the province of oaxaca. it seems fitting that oaxaca city has had a teacher's strike every year for the past TWENTY FIVE years. (this and other turmoil led to a seven month political conflict in 2006... all is safe now, with only graffiti left as evidence)
we flew into oaxaca city late saturday night and had four lovely days in the city. we each did our own thing, but meeting up for our culinary exploration of the city. the heart of oaxaca city is in its vibrant zocalo. surrounded by cafes and filled with buskers, shoe shiners, balloon sellers, candy vendors, men on benches and women selling local crafts, it encapsulated the bustling life of the city.
on our first day, we left the city to explore the little towns which were known for their sunday markets. transportation was a little (to put it nicely), random and unclear. the bus station was more of a street where buses drove by and people jumped on and off and the collective stand were cabs waiting to be PACKED full of people before heading off to their destination. to me, this was what made it so exciting! who knew where we were really going to end up!?? and with a first class seat on top of the gear-shift, who could ask for anything more?
our first stop was the market town of tlacolula. what struck me most were the market bolsas (bags) which everyone carried and filled with their vegetables for the week. i could picture my retired self bringing my colourful bolsas down to the market each weekend. the market was mostly food, clothing and textiles and was full of women in traditional dress. there were live turkeys being carried to their doom, grasshoppers you could buy for a snack, live boxing matches to bet on, and meat covered in flies. yum. appetizing. we picked up a collectivo going back to the city, but i wanted to stop in the weaving town of teotitlan del valle. SO, the collectivo dropped me off on the side of the highway and told me i would have 'no trouble' finding a ride into town. i am standing (ehem... stranded) at the side of the highway as i watched car after car pass by me. how does this work again? eventually a collectivo stopped when i waved and i squished in next to a 90-something mexican dude who told me that canadians were very tall. thanks. like i hadn't noticed that i was taller then half of the mexican population.
next, i tried to get a collectivo to el tulle, where there is a GIANT tree that claims to be the largest in the world (apparently it is not). this also appeared to be a challenge. i walked and walked and walked from the weaving town expecting to have a car stop for me... i began to wonder if i had made a wrong turn on the only road out of town! finally, a car felt bad and pulled over. all of the passengers got quite a laugh out of the gringa girl who thought she could walk to the highway. sigh. i got everywhere just fine that day... but if you ask me how it all works, i still have no idea!
the next three days were slightly less eventful as we decided to stay (more or less) within the vicinity of the city. i perused craft stores, read two full jodi picoult books in cafes, drooled over mole sauces, and even got my fill of history at the ruins of monte alban.
to a critical eye, oaxaca city is a place that appears to be falling apart. but there is so much to offer. including a lesson in sticking out your thumb (or waving your hands madly in the air... whichever looks cooler).
i could not wait to get out of dirty, polluted, crowded monterrey.
for our first week, ginny and i decided to explore the province of oaxaca. it seems fitting that oaxaca city has had a teacher's strike every year for the past TWENTY FIVE years. (this and other turmoil led to a seven month political conflict in 2006... all is safe now, with only graffiti left as evidence)
we flew into oaxaca city late saturday night and had four lovely days in the city. we each did our own thing, but meeting up for our culinary exploration of the city. the heart of oaxaca city is in its vibrant zocalo. surrounded by cafes and filled with buskers, shoe shiners, balloon sellers, candy vendors, men on benches and women selling local crafts, it encapsulated the bustling life of the city.
on our first day, we left the city to explore the little towns which were known for their sunday markets. transportation was a little (to put it nicely), random and unclear. the bus station was more of a street where buses drove by and people jumped on and off and the collective stand were cabs waiting to be PACKED full of people before heading off to their destination. to me, this was what made it so exciting! who knew where we were really going to end up!?? and with a first class seat on top of the gear-shift, who could ask for anything more?
our first stop was the market town of tlacolula. what struck me most were the market bolsas (bags) which everyone carried and filled with their vegetables for the week. i could picture my retired self bringing my colourful bolsas down to the market each weekend. the market was mostly food, clothing and textiles and was full of women in traditional dress. there were live turkeys being carried to their doom, grasshoppers you could buy for a snack, live boxing matches to bet on, and meat covered in flies. yum. appetizing. we picked up a collectivo going back to the city, but i wanted to stop in the weaving town of teotitlan del valle. SO, the collectivo dropped me off on the side of the highway and told me i would have 'no trouble' finding a ride into town. i am standing (ehem... stranded) at the side of the highway as i watched car after car pass by me. how does this work again? eventually a collectivo stopped when i waved and i squished in next to a 90-something mexican dude who told me that canadians were very tall. thanks. like i hadn't noticed that i was taller then half of the mexican population.
next, i tried to get a collectivo to el tulle, where there is a GIANT tree that claims to be the largest in the world (apparently it is not). this also appeared to be a challenge. i walked and walked and walked from the weaving town expecting to have a car stop for me... i began to wonder if i had made a wrong turn on the only road out of town! finally, a car felt bad and pulled over. all of the passengers got quite a laugh out of the gringa girl who thought she could walk to the highway. sigh. i got everywhere just fine that day... but if you ask me how it all works, i still have no idea!
the next three days were slightly less eventful as we decided to stay (more or less) within the vicinity of the city. i perused craft stores, read two full jodi picoult books in cafes, drooled over mole sauces, and even got my fill of history at the ruins of monte alban.
to a critical eye, oaxaca city is a place that appears to be falling apart. but there is so much to offer. including a lesson in sticking out your thumb (or waving your hands madly in the air... whichever looks cooler).
finally!
oi.
here i am. finally sitting at a computer. ready to write the chronicles of sarah.
living abroad and travelling leads to such an odd dichotomy of feelings. on one side, i am living the life i have always dreamed of: i get more vacation then i could possibly count, i have seen incredible places and i have met wondrous people while doing it. but then, i have moments like this. i am sitting in an internet cafe in a beautiful city with a whole week ahead of me, and i feel kind of empty. i am so lucky to be travelling with ginny (who is my one spirit who keeps me feeling connected to my life at home) but sometimes the whole thing seems stupid if you don't even have the people that you love the most with you.
this is not to say that i want to live this life with my mom and dad in my backpack, but it just puts things into perspective. if i don't yet (YET) have a partner to share in my wanderings, and the majority of my friends and family are not experiencing this with me... then i need to make the effort to write it down. this blog is partly for me and for my memory. it obviously helps me to remember details that i would otherwise forget, but it is also a means to keep myself to connected with home, and with those that i love scattered around the world.
so, wish that, i want to wish all my friends (both near and far) a happy easter. remember that just because i don't speak with you as much as i would like, i am still wandering the streets of new towns and cities with you in my heart.
here i am. finally sitting at a computer. ready to write the chronicles of sarah.
living abroad and travelling leads to such an odd dichotomy of feelings. on one side, i am living the life i have always dreamed of: i get more vacation then i could possibly count, i have seen incredible places and i have met wondrous people while doing it. but then, i have moments like this. i am sitting in an internet cafe in a beautiful city with a whole week ahead of me, and i feel kind of empty. i am so lucky to be travelling with ginny (who is my one spirit who keeps me feeling connected to my life at home) but sometimes the whole thing seems stupid if you don't even have the people that you love the most with you.
this is not to say that i want to live this life with my mom and dad in my backpack, but it just puts things into perspective. if i don't yet (YET) have a partner to share in my wanderings, and the majority of my friends and family are not experiencing this with me... then i need to make the effort to write it down. this blog is partly for me and for my memory. it obviously helps me to remember details that i would otherwise forget, but it is also a means to keep myself to connected with home, and with those that i love scattered around the world.
so, wish that, i want to wish all my friends (both near and far) a happy easter. remember that just because i don't speak with you as much as i would like, i am still wandering the streets of new towns and cities with you in my heart.
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