thirty in cuba

i didn't lose my phone 2 nights ago so ill take it that my 30th went well although my body would like to tell a different story. a few days ago I got hit by denge again, which brings the count to two, possibly three cases in the past year. i wrote about the agony of the first encounter last july; it knocked me out for a whole week. this time it had me out for 2 days.

i never imagined spending my 30th in havana but here i am. it didn't dawn on me till a few days later after i agreed to do this doc that i'd be spending it away from family and friends. for the past 3 years i've had to make these kind of decisions and it seems to be point to a scary realization that i may not be sticking around for too long. who knows
these are the kind of thoughts you get when you're glued to a bed and toilet.

by thee grace of God i was given control of my bowels again and was able to get up and not feel like my bones and neck were about to snap. i took a morning stroll through havana and was finally able to go online and not check facebook (5 months facebook clean).
after 2 week's worth of emails, instragram updates, and whatsapp convos i made my way back to the casa particular.

later in the evening we were invited to an electronic dj set not far from our casa. a few hours later it really got going and we somehow made our way up the roof. as i looked at the crowd i began to think about my twenties and the half-hour or so that were left.
melancholy mixed with havana club began to creep. i thought about my little sister priscilla who just graduated high school, my pops probably watering the grass and yelling at the dog, i thought about amerie's beautiful smile, i thought about all of the great friendships i've made in the past decade and also the ones that don't exist anymore. all the toil, sacrifice, and the pain

a quick jab to the side and suddenly i was back. vanesa, my director/producer wrapped her arms around me just like my sisters would and yelled "you're 30!"
then came chris and albert, my brothers for the past 3 weeks, the cuban skating crew, and others ive met along my cuban experience.

in short the only thing i can truly say is that the only reason why i'm still alive and healthy, and have the ability to do and be where i'm at is only by the grace of God. He's been the only thing that's been constant in my life.

i'm excited to see what my thirties have in store, a new passport perhaps?

un poquito de quito y lo demas: pt. 2

ecuador: galapagos, center of the earth, lizards, evolution, mutants.

these are the images that came to mind whenever ecuador would come up. volcanos and glaciers were not. these were the last things i expected to see or even climb during my stay but thats exactly what happened. the next morning we were off to cotopaxi volcano but not before hopping a cab and checking out the basilica del voto nacional. 

its probably the most beautiful church i've been in south america. we must've been the first ones in, nobody was there and it was great! we climbed all the way up, up some dodgy stairs into open air, and took in our last moments of quito.

it took us a little over 2 painful hours to get to cotopaxi from quito. the journey was not the most pleasant and in particular the last hour when the road becomes unpaved. bryson and i stayed at the secret garden: cotopaxi, which is the same hostel chain we stayed at in quito. this hostel was definitely a step up from the rest of the hostels i've stayed in south america in terms of cleanliness, amenities and facilities (up to par with portuguese hostels for sure). what truly sets this hostel apart was the view though. when its clear the view of the volcano is breathtaking 

we made some swiss, mexican, venezuelan and of course australian friends the first night, went on a hike, i jumped off a 15 ft. bitter cold waterfall and spent the following day doing absolutely nothing. doing nothing was something i had been looking forward to and so while bryson went off horseback riding, i stayed and read paolo coehllo's the alchemist made some new friends, and drank tea the whole day.  

the next day we were up early and headed to cotopaxi. my ears were hurting and already was having shortness of breath; we weren't even out of the van yet! not sure whether i was being a big sissy or whether the elements were to blame. i looked around our group and saw that everyone seemed ok...

we drove up to 14,000 ft. and began our trek up the volcano and to the glaciar. the bottom of the glaciar hanged at 15,000 ft. and at first glance, the ascent doesn't seem intimidating. its pretty straightforward with no deep ravines, or crazy switchbacks. but looks can be very deceiving and fatal. carlos, our ecuadorian guide, was telling me that several people usually die from heart attacks during the climb, being that they don't let their bodies acclimate long enough. comforting 

i began my trek dandy and strong but at 100 ft. i hit a wall. the next 700 ft. were pure hell. 

as i climbed higher a new pain would emerge. my chest was on fire, my calves deadlocked, my core cramped, my thighs jello, my lungs squeezed like a raisin. with every step i took the ground would dissolve and take me two steps back, like i was doing it on quicksand. 

this climb had to be one of the toughest things i've done and many times i questioned whether i could actually do it. there came a point where i stopped looking forward because it seemed like i made no progress. eventually my biggest enemy became my mind so i stopped looking forward and channeled my sight at looking only at my next step. 

when i finally reached the top, i stepped to the side and i welled up a bit; it was a mixture of alot. exhaustion, relief, surprise. 

besides the constant reminders of my mortality, there came a point as i climbed up the volcano where i descended deeper into my heart and reflected.

i have no doubt that God has ordained every single event and circumstance that's been placed forth in my life. the good, the bad, the horrible, all of it. and the climb was a beautiful reminder that He is completely in control, even when i get brave at 99 ft. God has always been there patiently waiting at 100 ft. with hands wide open.

the view from the top was unreal and was only heightened by God's incredible grace and mercy dispalyed in my life. a few minutes later, after having caught my breath, my phone briefly got reception and i received a text from my mother that a good friend of the family, Francisco Magallanes, had an unfortunate accident and passed away. he was good man, a Godly and kind man who I have no doubt will be seeing again.

the climb down was quick but dangerous. one slip and there wasn't really anything that would stop you from picking up speed and tumbling all the way down. it began to rain the last 30 ft. and by the time i got inside the van, the thick clouds were speedily billowing through the parking lot and i quickly blacked out.

the next morning, we were dropped off by carlos' son on the side of the road in machachi were bryson and i hopped on a bus to baños. 

un poquito de quito y lo demas: pt. 1

things really picked up on day 2 and haven't stopped since. we walked downstairs and a few steps from the hostel we randomly met cleve, a real chill taxi driver who would eventually become our taxi driver for the day.

our first stop was the teleferico. it was about a 10-minute ride up the mountain on the cable car. 
once on top, the view of the quito city/valley left our jaws on the floor.


the altitude definitely played a role in the amount of exploring we did, which at this point was not going to be much. we hiked for about half an hour. the more we hiked the more beautiful the views became. the sun, the clouds, the rays, the peaks, the valleys; quito at this point seems more like a dream.

when we finally made it down the mountain, cleve was there waiting for us. 
our next stop was el medio del mundo but not before cleve deciding to take us up to another set of mountains and valleys where we came to the ancient town of pululahua, which is situated on an active volcanic crater. 

the crater is massive and indigenous people still live and work the mineral rich soil to grow crops.

shortly after we drove down those mountains and arrived at el medio del mundo, which is kind of a rundown town with dirt roads and dilapidated homes and shops. we went into the museum of the equator where we did cheesy equator experiments and learned a bit of the indigenous culture. 

according to the museum, if you looked at the gps, the exact point of the equator cuts through their lot. of course, bryson brought up the point that according to the military gps, the equator was about 20 meters away. whatever, its close enough was my thinking.once we were done trying to balance eggs on nails and walking on the "literal" equator line, cleve took us to grab some chow, which in this case came in the form of a rodent: the cuy 

it wasn't bad actually, kind of in between rabbit and duck? it was a pain in the ass to get meat out of it though, which is mostly concentrated on the shoulder blades, neck, spine, and legs. would i eat it again? yeah, sure if i were in a ecuadorian quinciañera and it was free. 

ok, after annihilating this american house pet, we went to another equator monument that was built to honor and remember the french scientists who pinpointed the spot of the equator in the 1900's.

unfortunately that monument is also off, by a few hundred meters actually, but it was still cool to go.

i dont remember the cab ride back. i was so exhausted and the 
cuy definitely put me over the edge. when we finally made it back to the hostel, we thanked cleve and i went straight to bed. an hour later, bryson and i woke up and took a cab to the night-life center of quito, el fosch, where we grabbed a pizza and a few beers. 

0 degrees latitude 0 degrees longitude

at the moment im trying to remember the word for shadow in spanish but i cant quite make it out. it makes me sad that i cant come up with it on my own but im too prideful to look it up on google. 

i've been in quito ecuador a little over a day now. i didn't expect much from quito, it was going to simply serve as kind if a layover city to plan the rest of our time in ecuador. it wasn't until a few days ago that my friend bryson and i decided to come here and it hasn't disappointed me in the very least.

at this point of my life alot of what i seek has to do about the people in specific and not about what the people have to offer. the importance is really not about the city or the amount of unesco sites it has but really more about what its history does to me and how i treat my fellow humans moving forward.

i feel like every city has a secret and the keys are held in the people; in the eyes of its inhabitants, going into their markets, eating their food, laughing at their jokes, feeling their sorrow. 

quito is snuggled by lazy hills and a bashful volcano and in between you get the ecuadorian people, who are somewhat soft to speak yet you get the feeling that you don't want to cross them. i wont say more because anything else would be coming out of ignorance but i'm enjoying my time here and i cant wait to climb a few volcanos, cram into a few crowded busses, and eat some fat cuy. 

the winner: ecuador

sorry bolivia but you will have to wait. can't say what was driving force in choosing ecuador other than having met a few more ecuadorians versus bolivians.

i am 4 days away from flying to ecuador and i have no idea what i'm getting myself into. its not like im going into a country that has an ongoing war or anything. but regardless i should probably do my homework. its not like i do it anyways when i travel but for some reason i feel especially inadequate on this trip.

for example, last night i found out that ecuador uses american dollars as currency. i also found out that ecuador has one of the largest inca ruins in the americas. what else...

i guess that's it for now. stay tuned

bolivia o ecuador?

these two countries have been on my mind as of late and i need to make a decision soon.

i was going through my calendar a few weeks ago and i noticed that i have a week and half of vacation in the middle of may and so i'm stuck. i was thinking of flying into santiago, chile taking the pachamama bus up to the atacama desert and into bolivia but now i'm thinking of staying in one country and keeping things within borders.

i have not been to bolivia. i have not been to ecuador.

i've heard great things and google images doesn't seem to give an edge as of which one is the best. they both looks insanely beautiful

anywho, this is where i'm at. stuck

somebody, anyone, help.

portugal: oporto & lisboa

porto and lisbon. lisbon and porto

its been over 2 weeks since i've been back from portugal and yet i can still taste lisbon's warm gooey nata cakes from pasteis de belem,

porto's perfectly balanced dark and sweet galaos from nata,
and the deceptively strong port wine pretty much everywhere portugal. 

for far too long portugal remained on my top 3 countries to visit and for reasons unknown it remained this way. there is so much to say about tiny portugal and yet alot of its beauty i feel comes from what is not said. its hard to explain portugal's charm and beauty and i wish i could be more objective but something ethereal dwells here, something rare that only a few cities have:

havanna, cuba
belgrade, serbia
essaouira, morocco
montevideo, uruguay

well, myself along with 3 friends finally decided to tackle portugal.
our first stop: porto


we landed early in the AM and after a rookie mistake on my part (forgot my passport in the seat-front pocket of the plane...palm to the face) we were off. we took the metro into the city which only took about 1/2 hour and one transfer.



it never fails when you hit that moment as you're riding the escalator up from the metro when you tell yourself "ok, i'm finally here!" as if the beginning of your story was about to fade from black.

daylight and broken clouds greeted us but just like that we were finally in porto. it was late in the afternoon. it took us a minute to figure out our bearings but when we did we quickly found our way to our hostel. we stayed at this place called tattva and it was probably one of the best hostels i've ever stayed at. the staff was friendly, the rooms were exceptionally clean, and its location leaves you minutes away from pretty much everything. also a big shout out to andre, the tattva hostel worker who treated us like royalty and made me tasty mini pancakes every morning.

we gave porto 3 nights. in that span we took a walking tour and learned a bit of porto's history and its rivalry with lisbon.

scoped out the beutiful duoro river
enjoyed fransiqueñas and late late night bifanas
rented a car and followed the yellow signs north into spain and visited santiago de compostela
took a train and visited guimaraes, the birthplace of portugal and enjoyed my first galaos.








our stay was short, too short. i felt myself dragging my feet as we walked to porto's train station.
our next stop: lisbon

we took a morning train and spent the ten extra euro to ride first class; fancy us. it was a quick 2-hour train ride that included a 6-ounce cup of coffee and great views of portugal's countryside.




lisbon's metro took about the same as porto's and with ease found our way to lisboa central hostel.
ok, so i'm starting to think that this might be a portuguese thing but hostels in portugal are on point! to be fair though i've only stayed in two.

lisboa central hostel was a slam dunk for all of the reasons of tatva but not when it came to pub crawls. i felt bad for barbara - our pub crawl group leader - and there can only be two possibilities that would account for such a bad pub crawl and before i even get into it, how do you even mess up a pub crawl?!




its kind of like messing up making a burrito, although someone has made me a crappy burrito before so i guess i get it. so this how i see it, either barbara has no soul who could care less about us and the pub crawl or she was completely out of her element stuck with this hostel duty that by the look of it was very awkward for her to do; i went with the latter. i found myself getting mad at barbara at times for the awkward situations she placed us in, but then i would get sad for her and just smile.






the next morning was much better. we took a walking tour through old lisbon and the following day we took another one through alfama. i like walking tours, they're a neat and fun inexpensive way to learn the history of a city, its neighborhoods and the people that live in them.
i took a strong liking to alfama.

sleepy alfama seemed so separate from lisbon. from the alfama side you get a nice view of lisbon and the praça do comercio (commerce plaza) where all of the ships would dock and unload/load cargo back in the days of exploration. the weather in lisbon couldn't have been better.


we also went inside some extravagant and significant churches, most notable the church of nata cakes AKA pasteis de belem. we heard horror stories of the notoriously long lines but i think we only waited 20 minutes max to secure the goods. the nata cakes from this place are supposed to be the best and prior to this, we'd had a few and they were all good in my own honest opinion so when i took my first bite, it didn't taste new; it was simply damn good!

the last night we finally were able to squeak by and find seats to enjoy some fado at this place called a tasca do chico. the previous night we tried getting seats 1/2 hour before but the place was packed. this time around we got there about an hour before and we still had to wait to get a seat. seeing fado performed was a great experience and had i drank another glass of port wine, i too would've broken out in fado.

so the portuguese have this word
called"saudade"

our walking tour guide tried to explain and he even asked a random man in alfama to explain it also. what i took from it was this:

its that foolish longing for something or someone you know you'll probably never get back. its the feeling you get inside your bones when something subtle like the scent of a flower, perfume or shampoo rocks you in the most awful and at the same time wonderful possible way. for a moment, everything stops and pains from the past resurrect but not enough to open any stitches.


...so lets just say that suadade and myself are familiar with each other.

i got a bad case of saudade the following day as we packed our stuff and headed back home. we weren't even out of the hostel and already i was beginning to miss portugal. 

out of all the western european countries that i've traveled to portugal is probably my favorite.

its been over two weeks and i miss portugial, did i mention that?