My neighbor deer visits every day. Who do you think is more surprised?

my! so much. But for now I wanted to say I am alive and well and spending the hot summer in Woodstock, NY.

Will write more soon, I promise. This photo of my neighbor I think it says it all.

a day in trip in paradise

Recently, at a tango class in Buenos Aires, a friend and I were chatting about travel, one of my favorite subjects these days. When he heard me say I went to the Galapagos his ears perked up.

I told him I went for 3 week and didn’t go on a cruise ship. Three weeks? No cruise? His ears got more perky.  Don’t you have to go on a cruise? No. Now his ears stayed perked and eyes were pretty wide.

Having read my blog, he asked me to write about how I went to the Galapagos without taking a cruise and spent a lot less.

Our conversation will tell the tale:

Shocked look on his face he said,

“You mean you can go to the Galapagos and stay on the islands?”

“Yes, I was island girl for 3 weeks, stayed on three different islands and paid a lot less than taking a cruise.  I spent about $1500 for 3 weeks and had a great experience.”

“What did you do?”

“I took day trips, snorkeled, met locals and tourists, spent a lot of time hanging out, worked on learning to draw and drew the animals I met on each of the islands.

Steve said, “How did you decide to do it this way?”

“Well, lucky me, I met a Ecuadorian naturalist in Cuenca where I was living at the time. He told me not to take a cruise. My ears got perky when he said that.  He had trained on the cruise ships to be a guide. His advise was to stay on the islands. “

“I did some internet research and found hotels and ideas galore how to be in the Galapagos without a cruise.”

Steve’s eyes, ears and whole being were now into this conversation, so I continued.

“ Instead of several hour stops you get when you take a cruise, I got to know three islands in some depth and could spend as much time as I wanted drawing giant turtles and scruffy iguanas and staring off into infinity. I would go back in a heartbeat to explore more of Santa Cruz, Isabela, or San Cristobal.”

Maybe not everyone wants this kind of adventure and a cruise with everything all planned out is better. But for me island hopping, staying in a hotel, not getting sea sick,  and being in places as long as I chose,  drawing, and relaxing gave me magical times.

Steve, “Where do you stay? Are there hotels?”

“Sure, there are all kinds of hostels and hotels on all three islands.”  Use www.tripadvisor.com or google for research.

When I go again, I look forward to a day hanging with sea lions breeding on the beach and a morning watching iguanas cross the road.

Not a problem again. Can’t be. I am leaving. I even went to the American Embassy to  add pages to my full passport so there wouldn’t be any problems. Living by their rules would make things easier. So I thought.

What could he want? Stop looking at me. Just stamp the damn thing.
Official Guy then looked me in eye and said, “Where is your censo?” “My what?” “You need a censo.”
“But I was told I don’t need one to leave.” Truly I had asked about this issue and was told I didn’t have to get it.
“You can’t leave without one.” He shows me an identity card that has your picture and other identity information. Panicking, trying to calm down and respond, I said,
“But my suitcases are going to Buenos Aires. I have to go.”
No, you can’t. But, but..
He leaves for another interminable few minutes and come back with a second Official Guy. And now the two of them are looking at me and at my passport. What could they be looking at? What do they want?  They started asking questions. Do I have an apartment in Ecuador? What was I doing there? Oh, God..was I giving the answers they wanted to hear?
Me: Sweating, begging, crying, pleading, Oh, yes, and praying. Can one be praying and crying at the same time? I was…
First they wouldn’t let me in, now they didn’t want me to leave. Maybe five minutes or maybe a lifetime later, I must have done something right because they let me go.
Over? Not quite. As I sit in relief, trying to recover from yet another near calamity, my name is called. Now what? My name has never been called in the airport waiting lounge.
NO!!! It can’t be another problem. Did they change their minds? NO!!

My face must have made the airline agent uncomfortable because when I stood in front of her asking what they wanted, she said in her most reassuring voice, it’s okay, this is normal. Just go downstairs to the luggage area so they can check your bags. By the way this conversation was all in Spanish.

So, a few of us unlucky souls descended to a dark area below. It was the luggage area with the dog-sniffing, drug-checking officials.
Me? A drug smuggler? But a small moment later I was upstairs and finally I got on the plane and the adrenaline started to leave my body.
Okay, you might say, you wanted the adventure of exploring South America and being a free spirit. But now I was ready for less adventure. Maybe.

Last we spoke I was an illegal alien sleeping in my bed in Cuenca. I love that bed looking out to the Andes Mountains and the new church.
The next step, of course, was to become legal. Or not. As one Ecuadorian lawyer offered I could be an immigrent (there seems to be such a thing); sort of like my grandparents coming from Eastern Europe. Maybe that category made some kind of sense for starting a new life in Ecuador.
Angel appears:
Xavier called and said, “Let’s go today.” So, Xavier, my friend and lawyer, (seen angel) and I set out to make me legal! We had discussed the plan to go to Tumbes in Peru to get the visa extension for a couple of weeks. Why that day? No reason. He said, “Let’s go today.” I answered, “Okay.”
Why not go to Peru that day? Since I knew nothing of the possible dangers of going to Peru for a visa extension any day was okay. And a good thing I didn’t. What would we dare if we knew ahead?
First ordeal or adventure or opportunity for angel help came at the border. Supposedly, it was simple. I would “just” pay a fee for overstaying then we’d be off to the hotel for a comfy night and an easy time getting the visa the next day. Now we know “supposedly simple” in South America is an oxymoron. What happened? I couldn’t pay because the computer was down and they couldn’t issue the paperwork.
Ordeal, adventure, or angel opportunity!

Strategy one: Wait, don’t know how long, try to be patient, hope it will work out sooner than later. Strategy two: Pray.
I chose pray. Okay, you guessed it, only after trying the other way first. Next thing I know the official who could help, the sergeant (angel), was on his way. He arrives,we jump in Xavier’s SUV, and are off. Where to? No se. Except I know we were going in the wrong direction, back towards Ecuador. Xavier assures me it was okay. At this point it has been a couple of hours at the border. But a good result as the sargeant signs some kind of paper and tells us to come back the next day to pay when the computer should be working…
Peru and the next step await. Drinks and dinner at hotel poolside that evening. Not so bad. The border is becoming a dim memory.

I am asked by curious friends and strangers who know little of travel or of South America, “Would I be happy in Ecuador?” or  “What’s  it like living there?”

My answer:  the popularly used word, depende. It depends.  On what?  You might might like it here if you like:

*seeing everyone walking around in loin cloths

*those same people unsmiling and rushing around afraid to touch each other

* looking up you see  Andes mountains but sometimes it is in the fog

*having to spend a whole dollar for a huge, juicy pineapple at the market

*and of course,  no one trying to help you in any way and with knowing you only a few hours inviting you to dinner and spend time at their weekend house

Okay, sarcasm out of the way, am I happy here?

Depende.  Here’s examples of what one might find. But the game is on. You can decide whether the following are true or false. Okay, more sarcasm. I can’t help myself.

Consider it a defense to all the questions we travelers get.

The following is your quiz about life in Ecuador (Cuenca)

True or False:

When I walk the streets I feel alive and happy seeing the brown faces and costumed bodies of indigenous men and women but then someone bumps me and throws a tantrum and the whole town is in an uproar.

True or False:

I go to the local hot springs resort  for a spa day in thermal pools, eucalyptus steam rooms, lounge chairs and lunch by on a grassy slope and gone only a half hour $4 cab ride from the Centro. But I want to spend more money than $10 because it can’t be very good if it costs so little.

True or False:

I am always frustrated with my social life because I only meeting international travelers, expats who like it here and are contributing to the local culture, an Australian couple who run a local café and want to provide a place to make people feel at home, an Ecuadorian family who invite me over for a family and friends evening  to teach them tango and play music together, (oh, and do I want to live with them  in their house for awhile?).  I don’t meet any interesting people…

True or False:

Travel in Ecuador is too hard and boring. Only rainforest, jungle, beaches, Andes mountains to hike and explore the animals and birds. I can’t find a way to get to the Galapagos islands without visiting the US first.

Please respond with your answers to the above true or false questions. Beware, cuidado, these are trick questions.

This blog had to be written. My shaman/guide told me to do it!

A cafe con leche always lent an opportunity for spontaneous conversations, one of my favorite activities.  Christian handed me a treasure chest of photos. He smiled as I looked, irridescent glaciers, living blue skies, crimson sunsets, a solitary fence surrounded by golden brush. All Patagonia?

How did you get this shot? His smile broadened. Suddenly we were deep in discussion of his passions. No, he couldn’t do photography and travel full time because of his job. Oh, really?

So we explored options, and finally he agreed he could ask his boss for Friday afternoons off.

A new freedom is never far off. As we switched topics to the children’s book I was working on and my need for someone to help with the art work using Photoshop, Christian beamed with the offer to introduce me to his best friend who happened to draw for children’s books.  Oh, really!

We said, adios as he gave me hug, kiss on both cheeks and a photo. And off I went to dance and pack.

With only four more days to this my fifth trip to Buenos Aires, saying farewell for now to the grimy, noisy, vibrant city with its French style balconies brought flashbacks.  I remember one Sunday at the San Telmo street fair, an old man showing off to the crowd below, kissing his parrot and laughing.

Something about living in San Telmo had suited me, with its cobblestone streets and storekeepers in the same location for generations, sitting in Origen cafe using my IPhone.

Next, Ecuador. Off to shaman, to indigenous in costumes in a walking city of Cuenca. No car, no cares, no commuting, only community, creating blogs like this, speaking and learning more Spanish.  Visa problem? Maybe, but Plan B was to go to Michellin in Columbia and dance more tango, or Plan C to go to the Sacred Valley in Peru and visit history and shaman.

My writer friend in Buenos Aires on my last day at our writers group said, “Your Plan B is some people’s life dream.”

Someone once asked me how I get to live this amazing life. “No se.” I don´t know.

During my first ten day visit to Buenos Aires to dance tango, a stranger looked me in the eye and said you don´t know how to live. Then she said, “Viva!” Live! I felt stunned, like she had spilled cold water on me. Live! What did she mean? Work, I knew. Helping others, check. Paying bills,  don´t like it, but okay. Make “to do” lists; doesn´t everyone? But live, what was that?

The gauntlet was thrown. Since 2008 and that trip, the purpose of my life has changed. I declared I would learn what it meant to live but I was a workaholic and needed detox. Daily, I challenge myself to do what I want.

On my quest, I milled among the hedonists in Buenos Aires, those  life-loving, stay up until 4AM Portenos were my guides. Coffee breaks, would be a way of life. Like them I took one at 10AM,  another  at 4 or 5PM. Chatting for 3 hours over lunch. Hey, I like this. No appointment book and of course, showing up late for parties. Why not? They do it.

So far, in the last couple of years, I lived in Buenos Aires 5 times, worked in Brazil and spent time with John of God, a spiritual healer, traveled to the amazing waters of Iguazu Falls, went on a car trip through the Grand Canyon like vistas of Northern Argentina, danced in tango halls in Buenos Aires, gave up work of any kind for 6 whole months. What did I experience on the inner plain? Well, the truth is I was struck dumb by my lack of inner space for being a non-achieving individual. One day at a time I live a day without efforting to prove my worth.

Next? I  have an apartment in Cuenca, Ecuador where I spent 3 months making friends, started a writers group, met shaman, hiked in the Andes at 13000 feet, stared at brown faces of indigeneous 90 years olds. Incredible? Maybe, but this is my extraordinary life is becoming norma..

Step one pack, step two leave, step three live, damn it!