Change in Travel

I woke to a new world this morning and I feel really excited about the new changes in the air. When I began this blog I wanted to talk about my travel aspirations. There are so many aspects of my interests that are tied to travel that it is hard to focus on just, well, travel. For instance, I have a huge financial debt looming over my life and it must be repayed. I’m not unlike anyone else out there in the world today – we all have debts in some way. But, this debt will keep me from exploring and doing all that I want to do in my days – when I want to do it. In recent months I have wrestled with this fact and probably will continue to wrestle with it for quite a long time. It’s a challenge to overcome. I will overcome it.

So, I’m interested in money and how to make it and spend it. I’m pretty good at spending money. It’s my profession. I work at the Indianapolis-Marion County Public Library developing special literacy and library promotional projects. I tend to spend a lot of taxpayer, foundation, and donated money to meet the goals of each project. It is not what I had intended to do when I first began working at the library, but it has a unique and special purpose that helps people grow, learn, and entertain themselves through one of the greatest inventions in the world – the library. Some people tend to think of the library as a quiet place, but, truly, it’s a place with a lot of action. Libraries are one of the biggest change agents in the United States.

The idea of being a change agent and doing work in the community appeals to me. It’s perhaps why I have been such a supporter of Barack Obama for the past two years. I want to surround myself with people who want to work with me and not against me to accomplish goals. I feel like Obama is a person who can work with me and I with him. That’s why I voted for him.

I love watching the political process – especially the role that the media plays in it. Frankly, I tend to be cynical about the role of the media, but as a person who has always been fascinated by what has happened and will happen next I just can’t keep my eyes off a newspaper, internet news site, or television. Observing is experiencing and I do love to experience.

Alejandro chuckles when he reads my posts because they don’t always seem to relate to “travel”. I suppose he is right, but I tend to see things as interconnected. As I experience the changing world around me I feel as though I am always on a journey towards something new even though I haven’t stepped onto a plane, train, or automobile to get there. I hope, if you are reading this, that you won’t mind hearing about my mental explorations as well as my physical explorations.

Sand and Soil

The wind blew leaves and pine needles in my hair as we walked down the unmarked trail in Brown County State Park. Leaves crunched beneath our feet and I remembered the feel of red earth and rock beneath my feet just a few weeks ago. The trail was much steeper and more difficult then.

We were in the Grand Canyon in the first week of October and I wish I could go back - without my camera. I did not take my camera to Brown County yesterday. The beauty of an Indiana autumn has been seared into my memory and is impossible to forget. No, I wanted to go to Brown County so that I could experience the wind and the sunlight passing through the trees. We trekked across the crunchy turf with nothing on our backs, around our necks, or in our hands. I walked hoping to find serenity. Quietness was difficult to come by in the canyons. We took the Bright Angel Trail from the South Rim to the first rest house. There was so much foot traffic along the trail that it was impossible to celebrate a moment for too long for fear of impeding other travellers.

The Grand Canyon was not quite what I expected and yet it was everything I expected. We stayed in Williams along old Route 66 in an historic place called the Grand Canyon Hotel - the oldest hotel in Arizona. From there we drove about an hour to the Grand Canyon through the Coconino National Forest. Neither Alejandro or I expected to see so much pine/evergreen trees on our approach to the canyon. I guess we expected to be able to just drive there and see nothing but rock and dirt until we reached a cliff. Instead, we had to park the car and walk a bit through trees to the Rim Trail. It was a fantastic sight.

We walked along the Rim Trail and meandered in and out of some of the tourist attractions until we found the Bright Angel Trail. With my old 35 mm camera around my neck and my tiny digital lurking somewhere around my wrist, pocket, and backpack we started to descend down the rim into the bowels of the canyon. The path was steep and it was soiled - in a not so welcoming way. The mules that they use on guided trips would appear to become so scared of the descent that they frequently relieve themselves in the tightest and steepest spots. Since I just bought new hiking boots I wasn't really ready to explore the dung heaps just yet, but if you must you must.

After a short time my knees began to feel every foot to rock impact and forward motion was both easy and frightening. We stopped frequently to snap pictures on the way down - not so on the way back. The journey back to the rim was so steep and difficult that I did not care about photos. Alejandro took on some of my weight and we stopped at about every bend with a big rock for sitting. I found it amusing that everyone coming down the trail, no matter what language they were speaking, seemed all smiles until they saw my foreboding, tense, and beet red face. Those of us going back up the trail were sucking the thin air and congregating with much sympathy for each other at every stopping point hoping that we would not give into the dizziness and hurl ourselves off the edge. Serenity was not tops on my list of feelings and sensations.

When we conquered the rim I expected to hear cheers and clapping for some idiotic reason, but the Irish, German, and Asian accents did not reveal any well wishes. We sat, ate trailmix, walked back along the rim and revisited the most photogenic tarantula in the Grand Canyon.

I want to go again. I won't take both of my cameras and might not take either one. I just want to hike further and faster. I want to get all the way down the canyon and maybe cross to the North Rim. I want to raft down the Colorado.

But, until then, I think I can be content with Indiana forest trails. They're not as steep, but if I go fast enough I will break a sweat. They are certainly alot quieter.

Money Money Money

I choose travel. I was debating on whether I should continue saving for travel or looking into buying a house this next year, but as of today, my chances of getting a house are slim. I have a good credit score (or at least I did) and Alejandro and I could certainly afford a house payment. In this market, though, home buyers need a really good down payment and may possibly need to just buy a house outright after today's decision to not bailout the banks. So, I choose travel.

It's probably an irresponsible choice. After all, I have quite a bit of debt to payoff. But, at least two people have told me that I worry too much about money. Even today someone told me that she hasn't seen me happy for a long time and she's worried about me. I didn't get a chance to tell her that things are looking up.

After sinking another $700 into my car on my birthday I will finally be able to crawl out of my spare cash hole just a bit. At least, the extra car expenses haven't greatly impacted my plans for travelling next week. Thank God for a three paycheck October! The vacation I have been wanting to take for years is finally here.

We got our itinerary all printed out this evening. I hope we haven't overdone it! We fly into Phoenix on Saturday, drive through McCain territory (Sedona) on Sunday (we'll be behind enemy lines, so communication will be at a minimum to avoid Republican whining), stay in Williams while we explore the Grand Canyon, drive out to Monument Valley and stay a night before moving on to Albuquerque for a few days of hot air ballooning. Whew! That's a lot of driving, but I have longed to go to these places for so long. Next year we may be going to Rome so I don't know that we'll make it back that way anytime soon.

I wish it were Friday. This past week or so I have taken on a co-workers job responsibilties in addition to my own and frankly, I'm multitasking all over the place. On top of that, I have had a cold. My yo-yo is wound to tight and needs to be released.

7-7-7

It occurred to me as I lay in bed thinking that I am in the middle of a string of seven year anniversaries. It was seven years ago today that the United States was attacked by terrorists. Tomorrow it will be seven years since I was diagnosed with HPV. On Sunday it will be my seventh birthday since those personally devastating occurrences - I will be 31. I celebrated my 24th birthday in 2001. Or rather, I went through the birthday celebrating motions.

I woke up this morning feeling something across between stress and the beginnings of a cold. It wasn't until I was driving to work and listening to the 9/11 tribute on the radio that I really began to remember. I have felt stress all week due to work and a little too much alone time. But this morning, when I heard the radio tribute I really began to remember the feelings of hopelessness that I felt for so many months after those days. It was something akin to post traumatic stress disorder. I live in Indiana, not New York. I cannot pretend to have the same feelings of despair as some of the individuals of that city, and certainly not as prolonged, but I do remember despair. I still feel it. It is always lurking there in some way waiting for the weakest moment to show itself.

I'll fight it. Sometimes it is minute by minute. At other times it is month to month. I was talking with a co-worker this morning who said he didn't discover his mortality until he was 41. I discovered it at 24. I'm no longer HPV symptomatic and haven't been for 6 years, but I know that I am mortal. I will fight it with every hot air balloon ride, plane trip, cross country hike, and passionate pursuit of pleasure and happiness that I can imagine.

I'm reminded of a speech on C-SPAN months after the attacks. Author Carmen Agra Deedy was speaking in Washington D.C. at the opening of the National Book Festival and she weaved a tale of loss and despair that was so riveting and spellbinding that I could not help but find comfort in it. She reminded me that every experience good or bad has a purpose and a meaning.

In the seven years since those days I have earned two college degrees, secured a professional job, lived on my own, and discovered the joys of living and depending on someone whom I love very much. In this seventh year since 2001 I think I am the luckiest woman in the world. I've still got my moments of despair, but I still have plenty of fight in me too. I may be mortal, but I'm alive.

Existential Moment

Alejandro asked me if I was having an existential moment tonight. I guess I was getting a wee bit too philosophical in trying to explain my latest identity crisis.

I took a couple of days off last week to extend my Labor Day weekend and didn't go anywhere incredibly notable. It's mostly because my travelling funds were sucked out of the gas tank by the car dealership. Last Thursday I spent $460 to fix a car problem that apparently still needs to be fixed. The drive belts, timing belt, and belt tensioner have been replaced, but the rattling, turning, not quite right sound that has been emanating from somewhere inside the body of the car is still there. Needless to say, I hate Ray Skillman Kia, and I never intend to go there for a car repair again.

The car expenses essentially killed long distance travel plans. We had thought about going to St. Louis for a day or two to explore the city. I've never been there. It's about a four hour trip from here to there by car and I do like a good, slightly unplanned road trip. We managed to get away for a few hours. We visited old southern Indiana stomping grounds and explored some backroads of Kentucky while we were at it. Perhaps the most startling aspect of the trip was the lack of people and cars we found along the way. I had expected to see more people out and about, but found there were few people to find. Maybe it was the heat or perhaps the wrong day to find traffic, but I suspect there are few who plan to hit the roads for a little R & R these days. The passion for travel is not quite present with the rising cost of gas. Add other costs like car repairs, credit card bills, loan repayments, etc. etc. etc. and the idea of traveling leaves me feeling a bit deflated.

The extra time to sit at home and ponder my financial problems has left me feeling a little unsure about everything - well, almost everything. I guess I just don't feel an awesome sense of purpose in my life. My work does not fulfill me, or at least I don't feel passionate about it in a good way. The job has taught me alot of things about myself - some good and some bad. It's the bad part that worries me. I feel like I am pigeonholed into a job that won't allow me to grow. Sometimes I feel like I have learned skills that can take me to a lot of places, but other times I feel like I haven't learned enough to really be an agent of change.

I'm drowning. I'm drowning beneath my debt. I'm drowning in my job. I think I'm drowning because I just don't have enough passion, or at least the right kind of passion. Yeah, I'm having an existential moment.

So, I ask myself the same questions I have asked myself many times over - What am I passionate about? What can I do to change my situation? Is it a new job? Do I volunteer somewhere to make my life have some meaning? Do I attempt to start a small business? Do I leave my job knowing I have no money to support myself and hope that someone will help me get by? How do I keep myself afloat while I find my purpose in life? How do I get out from under? How do I find happiness in all aspects of my life? Is it possible to be happy in all aspects of your life at once? Is it possible to have an occupation that challenges and fulfills you at the same time? What is my unique purpose? How can I contribute to my well being and others?

Yep, I'm having an existential moment.

Last week I heard a few people speak at the Democratic Convention and they kept quoting Einstein. They said, 'If you keep doing the same things over and over again expecting different results you're not going to get anywhere'. I wonder if I am doing the same things over and over again. Every week I look at my budget sheet hoping to find the answers to my financial problems, but I still haven't found a solid solution that is fool proof.

I feel scatterbrained. Scatterbrained is probably not the right word. I'm a generalist. When I was in high school I remember someone saying that a person of my age would probably have at least ten different jobs before I got put out to pasture. In other words, I needed to know a little bit about everything in order to survive in this economy and keep myself marketable. The only problem with that theory is that now I have alot of great varying skills and abilities, but they don't all match up. So, no matter what I do, I always feel like I am not making use of all my skills.

The word atrophy comes to mind.

I'm thirty years old and I already feel like life may be passing me by. I'm not ready for that yet. I need a fresh perspective. I need a goal. I need a clear direction. There are so many things I want to do in this life and I feel like my ability to do them all, even the things I haven't even thought of yet, is slipping away. I have great organizational abilities, but this is one project I'm not sure I can pull off.

To Rome, Or Not To Rome?

I had pretty much given up on travelling the world until I met Alejandro. I was too scared to travel alone and I really don't have the cash to travel long distances anyway. But, as I sat in the Indianapolis Monument Circle Starbucks listening to Alejandro tell me about his trip to England and France I found myself beginning to dream again - just a little.

To be honest, I was quite envious of his audacity to take a vacation alone to countries that speak in tongues not his own. His "worldliness" was quite intimidating for a gal who has never ventured too far from home. But, his gentle, kind, and loving heart quickly put me at ease and allowed me to dream my little dreams again.

Since then I have purchased a passport and had the audacity to use it. We went to Costa Rica to visit his family. It's a start. We have taken a number of other small trips in the nearly 18 months that we have been a part of each others lives. We're planning another trip to Costa Rica and will visit the Four Corners in October. Who knows, we might even make it to St. Louis this year too.

Tonight we made another pilgrimage to a Starbucks in Barnes & Noble and talked once more about trips we look forward to taking. He sat with a travel book about Germany - a place he will be going to in a couple weeks time for business. I sat with a travel book for Rome. We have often talked about going to Rome, Italy and other places. Alejandro asked if I wanted to go there next year. Of course I do. There's just one problem. I'm thousands of dollars in debt and I want to live in a house some day - soon. I should mention that "soon" was what I was saying two years ago and "soon" is what I will probably be saying two years from now.

So, to Rome, or not to Rome? That is the question. Which dream is more important? Which one can be delayed? Shall I seize the day and fly off into the Roman sunset? Or, shall I pour my heart into purchasing financial freedom only to chain myself to a mortgage at least two years from now with the hopes of someday having a little chunk of change to live on?

I'm thirty years old working in a public service job that pays little. I make the dreams of others a reality. It's easier to help others meet their goals than it is to meet my own. I'm disappointed in myself. It's not what I do that is disappointing - it's the choices I made that got me to this point. In some ways I took the easy way out. I was afraid to take a speech class so I didn't get a Journalism degree. I got a Bachelor's degree in English instead and a Master's degree in Library Science. I ended up having to take speech anyway.

I don't know if I'll go to Rome next year or if I'll have a house in two years, but I do know that neither of those dreams will become a reality if I don't pay down my debt. Something I have been thinking about while reading a book called "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch is that dreams cannot come true unless you put yourself on the path to make them come true.

I recently bought a computer with Alejandro in the hopes that I could use it to improve various skills and hopefully put me on the path to bring in some extra cash. My progress has been slow going. There is always another workout to do, or another concert, or perhaps a reality TV show to watch. I'm having a difficult time finding a balance between work and play. It's frustrating and admittedly I am a bit scared. I may spend a few hours focusing on a new avenue of learning to advance my future and discover something that is discouraging. It's paralyzing. Sometimes I just don't see how I can make the reality meet the dream.

I suppose everyone feels that way these days. The economy is bad, the environment is revolting against the human race, and the world sometimes seems as though it is swirling out of control. And yet, I still cling to hope. I cling to the idea that I will overcome my paralysis. I will make my dreams come true. It will happen. Rome will happen. A home to call my own will happen. If I can dream it I can make it happen. I just have to be willing to face the hard obstacles.

Costa Rica 2007

I finally copied my picture CD's to the computer today. I have two cameras - an older 35 mm and a digital I bought back in November for my trip to Costa Rica. I wasn't sure if I would be able to find film in Costa Rica and, well, I have a trigger happy finger when it comes to taking photos. I love taking photographs of landscapes, flowers, buildings of interest and just simple curiosities that capture my attention.

I took this photo at a roadside market on the way down from the Poas crater. We never actually saw the crater because it was far too rainy and windy to get a good view, but the trip up the volcano mountain and the trip down were quite the adventure for the eye. We passed through a few towns and several coffee and sugarcane fields. There are so many beautiful vistas to be seen in Costa Rica - they just creep up on you on the road and then they are gone in an instant and another photo opportunity arrives that is just as astonishingly beautiful. I actually found myself quite frustrated because I could not take all the photographs that I wanted to - I could have photographed for days.

I have decided to try and make a slideshow out of the best photos from the trip. I just hope I can get that done before the next trip comes around.

Plane Tickets 2

Just a week and a half to go and I will be able to purchase the ticket for Costa Rica. The return flight we had been watching filled up according to Expedia, but it is still open according to Delta. The seats available are going fast. If I could I would buy the ticket today, but I just don't have the cash. I'm waiting on my stimulus check which should arrive at the end of the week or early next week.

In the meantime we need to start planning our trip to Phoenix and Albuquerque - the Four Corners region. We plan to fly into Phoenix in October and drive by the Grand Canyon on our way to Albuquerque for the International Hot Air Ballon Fiesta. It's a trip I have been wanting to take for nearly fifteen years. I only learned about the Fiesta a few years back, but I have longed to drive through the desert lands for many years. I took a bus trip from Las Vegas to Laughlin, Nevada in 1999, but there is something far more appealing about driving through the desert climate on your own terms. We plan to get a car reserved this weekend and maybe make a few other plans and reservations. The plane tickets for those flights have already been purchased. All we need to do now is choreograph the time in between.

Plane Tickets

In a little over two weeks I will be buying my next plane ticket to Costa Rica. I have been watching the ticket prices for the past six months - ever since I got back from my last trip. Right now the best ticket price I can find is $1,121. Earlier this week the cost for the same flight was $1,011. Honestly, that's not a bad price. Last year I spent just under $1,000 for the same ticket. I just hope that two weeks from now the price will have either dropped or stayed the same.

In recent weeks I have been watching this flight closely. Delta has grounded some of its planes along with other airlines. Oil futures spiked above $140 today. Every time the price of oil goes up I wonder about what kind of impact it is going to have on my ticket price. If this trip were just a vacation I probably would not buy the ticket. But, this trip is about family. My boyfriend gets the opportunity to see his family once a year - we're not going to miss that opportunity because of the cost of oil - not yet anyway.

Beginning

It wasn't the raspberries that drew me to southern Indiana. It was my grandparents. Today I made yet another pilgrimage to Seymour, Indiana to pick fresh raspberries. Even though the freshness of the berries hardly makes up for the cost of gas, nearly $4.00 a gallon, I still find picking the berries from the vine far more rewarding than buying them in the supermarket.

My grandmother begins her search for strawberries in May. If we're lucky she finds a patch. I make the pilgrimage from my home in the southern suburbs of Indianapolis to the even more southern city of Seymour, Indiana about an hour away. From there we travel to whichever farm has been bold enough to plant strawberries instead of corn or soy beans, the more profitable crop.

Today was our second visit to a farm near a little known rock quarry in North Vernon. The land in southern Indiana is a blend of rolling hills and flat landscapes. The farm was tucked behind a junkyard of old forgotten cars and a graveyard. We've already taken our pick of strawberries for the season, but the raspberries were calling to me - along with another chance to spend time with my grandparents. I brought my mother and my boyfriend along this time.

We each took a basket from the owner of the land, Elaine, and began picking away as a rooster and hungry goats called to us nearby. It was so pleasantly quiet as the sun beat down upon us and great hawks flew overhead. The only sounds we could hear were our own voices in conversation and the animals. No cars, no burning lights, no TV's or radios, and no sounds of machinery were buzzing in our ears.

At last, I had arrived at the place where I had longed to be all week.