There are no stockings, burning logs and no Santas (thankfully, in this 30+ degree heat and humidity), but there are Christmas decorations nonetheless. There are synthetic trees, completely decorated with ribboned packages underneath. There is tinsel, garland, and an overwhelming amount of lights. One can order an entire turkey dinner with all the sides from the gourmet supermarket.
The weird mix of high street fashion and American style Christmas decor – with elephant mascots?
It is all strange and tacky and very surreal at times. Being in Asia at holiday time is full of surreal travel moments: slurping spicy noodles on a plastic stool, on a street corner full of screaming motorbikes, while in the background, Michael Buble sings that he will be home for Christmas.
Oh, but I’m not home for Christmas and in all honesty, it’s great. Perhaps it helps that I am at heart a traveller and I love all those “Lost in Translation” moments involved with travelling. I have a deep appreciation for the bizarre, the quirky and the feeling of being out of place.
A relatively quiet night in Bangkok
On the other hand, I also have a great respect for tradition. I understand the importance of maintaining customs and rituals, particularly in an ever changing world. All the things that families do in Canada at this time of year: the same decorations, the same meals and activities, provide steadiness and comfort to every generation. We may all roll our eyes and groan at the thought of another winter, another Christmas with all its inherent responsibilities, but it punctuates our lives and provides a collective belonging that comes from shared experience. Surely a new immigrant feels a sense of belonging when they too can complain of the lack of parking at the mall or having to scrape their windshield in the morning. What can be more Canadian?
Hostel in Phnom Penh
I understand the need to continue with these things. I admire those who fight through airport lineups or drive through snowstorms in order to get home ( as the songs tell us), in time for Christmas. But this will be my second one away from home and as strange as it is, there is a great deal of contentment. I was content to eat takeout Chinese food in my tiny apartment in Guadalajara with its suicidal staircase and now, I am content to slurp noodles with my partner, next to dust filled, broken streets with speeding motorbikes. And luckily this year, we are here in Asia together to celebrate in our own way. Our present to each other is one of the best possible: to share in the same experience, to roll our eyes together and complain of the same things just as we would in Canada.
(Central Market in Phnom Penh) I may not be crazy about turkey, but I don’t think I’m ready to replace it with fried Tarantulas
If I am honest with myself, I prefer all of that to the push to behave in a certain predetermined way at home. When I am away, there is no need to cook, clean and drop everything for the one BIG day, to force myself to feel joy if I don’t want. I can eat tacos or curry or nothing at all. I can do crosswords, watch Netflix, get a massage or… nothing at all.
I can scroll through my photos, write this blog while thinking of all of you, hopefully enjoying whatever you choose to do. And above all, I hope you get to choose for yourselves, where you want to be and who to share it with. That is a true gift.
There is a constant haze of pollution in the sky above Bangkok, sitting above the gleaming modern towers. At times, I feel as if I am swimming in this smog, as I cross through traffic choked streets, dodge screaming motorcycles and tear up with the occasional shot of stir frying chiles on broken sidewalks. It is admittedly often too much. It makes me long to escape into my tiny but nicely air conditioned apartment, high away from the onslaught of this crazy city.
A bit of escape at the pool at our condo building
And yet, how I love them all: the Mexico cities, the Londons, the New Yorks, and now, Bangkok. And I hate them all… often at the same time. It is what makes these cities what they are. After all, the mark of a great city – a truly great city – is one that inspires BOTH love and hate. I talk of greatness in terms of more than size, although a certain size is inevitably involved. There is greatness in their sheer scale, in their population that reflects the global world, the immense stew of natives, tourists, ex-pats, and immigrants.
It’s an exhausting city
There has to be simply too much of everything, too many things to do, too many people, too many and too much altogether. Travellers are always on the hunt for that elusive “authenticity”, which we mistakenly believe lies only in quaint, undeveloped villages, where indigenous peoples walk around in traditional costumes. The reality is that, from a global perspective, big cities are the catch basin for all the people of a place: those who come in search of education, work, livelihoods. What can be more authentic than that? In these cities we see the truth of a country. Of course, this truth, as with all truths, can be both beautiful or grotesque.
Bangkok is a study of contrasts: there’s this….. and thisThere’s this…… and this
These are not places for the faint of heart, for those who feel claustrophobic in crowds and more comfortable with solitude and open spaces. Rather, they are for those, like me, who crave the constant change, the unpredictability, and most of all, the anonymity; the idea that I am simply a passing thing, an insignificant cog in this gigantic wheel. And where others dream of romance in hidden away cabins or white sandy beaches, I believe the most romantic of places is amongst these big cities with their bright lights. I believe that two people who can find themselves together and create a relationship in the constant deluge of urban overstimulation is a miracle of sorts. To be two souls who can hold themselves up on a life raft in this ocean of urbanity… well, that’s an achievement.
And I feel a similar sense of achievement when I find those moments of humanity and personal contact: from the street vendors where I get my takeout; the fruit lady who picks out the sweetest mango for me; or the sweet boy at our regular restaurant who tried to help me walk when he saw my sprained ankle in a cast. These small moments, in this giant city gives me hope that no matter how big our cities become, or how big this planet becomes, that the most honest and intimate connections can remain.
My fruit ladyI did mention the broken sidewalks? Meeting up with an old friend from teaching days in Thailand. Notice the plastic bags provided by our restaurant staff
The Lonely Planet describes the town of Ajijic, located on the northern shore of Lake Chapala in Jalisco, Mexico, as an “outpost of North American retirees… where English is heard as commonly as Spanish.” It is easy to see the draw. A small sized friendly town with its original cobblestone streets, ideal weather year round and due to the above mentioned Gringo base, an abundant supply of gourmet food shops, restaurants with bilingual menus and all the necessary services from cosmetic surgery to dental clinics, and perhaps the most prolific of all, real estate offices.(With prices posted conveniently in US and Canadian dollars)
What’s not to enjoy with lake views and perfect weather?
I’ve witnessed a great deal of these ex-pat retiree pockets in my travels, in Mexico, Asia, Central America. There are common elements to them all. They are inevitably a certain “manageable” size, with both temperate weather and lower costs of living. Without any statistics, anecdotally, I can see that the demand for these places is growing just by the shear number of websites and Youtube channels devoted to retiring internationally.
In all honesty, I used to mock these people. I never understood the need for older adults to seek sunny, warm destinations or choose to live the rest of their lives in protected communities with other “like-minded” people. However, I find myself more sympathetic, especially now advancing toward the age where I find myself , to paraphrase Groucho Marx, being accepted into a club in which I don’t really want to belong. I am starting to understand how it can indeed be nice to be in a place where one can sit in a cafe outdoors in the sunshine or go for long walks without being bundled in winter gear.
A pretty little church in the hills above Chapala
Park plaza in Ajijic
Ajijic is full of a certain type of retiree. They are unquestionably an active bunch. Everyday they can be seen jogging, speedwalking, riding fancy bikes. These are not the type of older people who are content to sit in their Lazy Boy rockers and watch TV. They are too busy volunteering, playing Bridge, adopting street dogs and visiting local markets with their cloth bags (sewn by a local artisan obviously) full of their fruit and vegetables.
What is it about physical activity and us Baby Boomers? We pursue it with fervour and grim faced determination. In spite of arthritically challenged joints and damaged arteries, we plow on. We wrap ourselves in Ace bandages, gulp our Glucosamine tablets and buy the newest, most expensive athletic gear. If we can’t run, we jog; if we can’t jog, we walk; if we can’t walk, we ride; if we can’t ride, well, there’s always that $3000 e-bike to help push up the hills.
All of which is fine, even can be seen as great, but so often, all the fevered activity comes along with no small amount of self-righteousness. Baby Boomers treat aging like the careers they once had, with a determined and planned grit. In this case, the “promotion”( of what exactly: immortality?) comes to those who put in the most work, the most hours. Therefore, we can’t help but judge all those who don’t follow our same path.
We tsk tsk with sympathy, but when in private, we make our judgements. It’s a shame that they have X disease, however we also whisper, “She really shouldn’t have smoked”; “He could have exercised more”; “They ate far too much meat. We conveniently forget our luck in winning the genetic lottery or how we had the good fortune to live in a place of privilege, a place of medicine, clean water and enough food. We brag about our exercise like we post on social media about our Covid vaccines because we actually believe that all this activity builds the best kind of IMMUNITY: one that protects against the years, one that provides strength against the ultimate and the inevitable. I suspect that it doesn’t, but hey, if I am wrong… ride on, people, ride on.
Even peacocks get to retire in Ajijic – this guy was checking me out while I was lunching in a restaurant with rescued peacocks
In a job interview many eons ago for a position for which I was quite unqualified, I was given a series of the typical HR questions, but then a final question posed as a scenario. The interviewer, the head chef of a large corporate catering company, asked me what I would do if there was an event in which everything went off the rails, the clients were waiting and none of the food or service was ready. I told the head chef that I would prioritize the tasks that needed to be done immediately and leave other less vital tasks behind. I got the job. Later, the chef told me that I was the only candidate that answered in that fashion. Apparently everyone else said they would put down their heads and work as hard and do as much as they could.
Hardly a surprise. We are taught to do that; put our heads down, keep quiet, run hard, work fast, don’t question until it’s done. And discipline is undeniably great; however, there comes a time in our lives when we realize that perhaps we haven’t lifted our heads up enough to actually see where we are or what is happening around us.
Like the scenario that I was given in my job interview, we don’t prioritize because we think that we have forever. Or we prefer not to think about that at all. We keep our heads down and keep going without realizing that the clock will run out whether we ever finish or not. It is a part of our puritanical culture; to be proud when busy, to be ashamed when not.
Everyone always asks me when I go on a trip, “What are you going to DO there?”. It seems that the point of any travel needs to have a purpose and that purpose is an activity, even if the activity involves in the most oxymoronic sense, doing absolutely nothing as in most beach holidays. There are meant to be churches to visit, restaurants to try, sights to see, photos to take. I’m afraid I am a disappointment because I rarely have a list of these goals when packing my bag, booking my flight. Because to be preoccupied with all that “doing” only means that I am continuing the rat race of accomplishments that are expected of me. To me, travel should be an open ended endeavour, an escape from putting my head down and finishing. Let’s face it; we will all have a finish.
For there are times to stop DOING and to start BEING. To be in a place that fills the heart, a place of sunshine and full plazas. To be the sort of person that doesn’t need someone else to drive, read the map or decide where to go next. To be what I once was, free and unencumbered from the doing. Sometimes, all of us have to allow that part to be.
Men with Peyronie s disease must fend of ingesting get cialis without prescriptions Zenegra pill as it can promote reproductive health as well. To get proper response cute-n-tiny.com purchase cheap viagra and to get the medicine that could finally put an end to his miseries? There were some reasons why other men could not finally decide to push through an effective method of treating the issue. Its results are temporary bases, but a lot of people have a free viagra online clear misconception about the benefits, likely candidates and uses of this treatment. The medication has a relatively slow release when compared to standard Kamagra or depoxetine medications. viagra sildenafilThis little boy was in full Mariachi gear with proud parents taking photos
San Luis Potosi is full of Baroque architecture A beautiful city and capital which is hardly visited
The stray dogs used to wander into my classroom in the afternoons looking for shade. These sad, mangy, parasite ridden animals trudged around the campus of the Rajabhat Institute, the college in which I taught English in 1996. At times, they would startle me when I discovered them curled around the cool tiles of the toilet stalls.
I remember those dogs, just as I remember other ridiculous bits of trivial moments from my time in the town of Nakhon Sawan, Thailand. I remember staff meetings conducted in Thai in which I could not understand a single word. I remember the raucous student cafeteria where I would get my lunch, with its smell of curries, soups and overripe fruit. I remember the songtheaw rides from my apartment, shared often with the students, all of us hunched together on the wooden benches in the backs of the pick up trucks. Strangely, I can barely recall any of my actual teaching. I wonder, did I even teach them anything?
Granted, I had few resources; a few pieces of chalk, old blackboards and the occasional fan that worked in the stifling classrooms. This was a government run public, not private institution; there was little money and my students certainly could not have afforded textbooks. Copies for handouts were rarely used. Requesting them from the office was a complicated affair; after all, they still used a mimeograph machine! There was no internet, no email, no cellphones. For updates, our friends mailed us newspapers from home. Once, we received a months old Vancouver Sun with coverage of a winter storm that had shut down the city. This I do remember: staring a little confused (and a little homesick) at the front page photo of a snow covered Vancouver.
Returning to Thailand 23 years later means coming back to a country that has altered immensely. The roads are paved and there are smooth multi-lane highways. There are western style apartments, high end malls and supermarkets with imported goods. For the most part, the stray dogs are gone.
While the diehard backpackers remain, there are many markers of a more upscale tourism industry, including by the Thais themselves. In my time away, Thailand has moved from being a developing country to being firmly a developed one with a growing middle class. It has also become the star of the tourism sector in South East Asia, hardly surprising given its low costs, safety and encompassing transportation system. We find, as we hit some of the usual tourist hotspots, a service economy that provides nothing but ease for the average visitor. And we also find the unfortunate result: relentless crowds with their iphone cameras and selfie sticks.
Over breakfast in our guesthouse in Ayutthaya, we cannot help but overhear the exchange between some Dutch and German backpackers in their twenties. Their wide-eyed and naive comments about the country and life in general makes us roll our eyes. Yet, while I grimace at their innocence (delivered with the opinionated fervour that only the young seem to have), I also feel at the same time, a sadness, or perhaps to say, a longing for such blanket idealism. Being here has reminded me of that same unabashed, untouched view of the world that I once had, when I was an inexperienced teacher and of course, an inexperienced traveller.
The realization is this: the country has changed as have I. Indeed, all things: countries, cities and people should change. However, even with that realization, for a brief moment I will allow myself to feel an ache for the country and the person that once was, and the innocence of both.
Promotion of optimal spinal price of viagra pills range of motion. However, you must remember these medications do generic viagra professional not work in your favor and may result in deathTo be on the safe side, it is highly advisable to take the drug once in a day. The mechanism helps men by improving the performance ability levitra vs viagra and causing good libido enhancement which builds the confidence to perform and will leave you and your partner to be happy and satisfied. Once the purchase cheap viagra issue is properly identified, repeated penile failure can be found out during diagnosis, but clearly it has no symptoms.
When I led the summer camp 23 years ago there was no one else except the students and me on this bridge
Now Kanchanaburi is a major tourist destination with restaurants and bars around the signature bridge on the river Kwai
There’s always still that “pang”. The brief intense feeling that, at the least, feels like anxiety and at the worst, feels like panic. The pang that occurs while packing the bag, checking the flight times, taking out the passport.
Going solo means having no one with which to help with the anxieties. It means trudging off somewhere without knowing anyone and anyplace. And after the familiarities of the airport, there will be always be, at the other end, the unknown and the unpredictable. To this day, no matter how much I’ve travelled, alone or otherwise, there always remains the concerns (and the excitements) of landing somewhere foreign and different.
Every trip is different and this time I wanted things to be less certain. After all, as Anthony Bourdain once said, overplanning is the death of fun. This time, short of booking an Airbnb accommodation and finding a school to take some Spanish classes, I pre-planned little else. But there is a lot of self doubt with such an unplanned trip! Will I be scared? Will I be lonely? Will I regret choosing to be in a strange place alone?
After almost two weeks in the beautiful, historical city of Morelia, Mexico, a city almost devoid of foreign tourists, I’ve discovered:
1) That a happenstance Airbnb accomodation can result in a family that treats me as so much more than a mere guest.
… with a dog that drives me crazy by hurling himself against my bedroom door when he thinks I may be asleep so that he can greet me
… going for a run with this dog and 10 year old Ian on a jogging path reached by hurling ourselves across two highways
… sneaking a six-pack of Heinekins into the movies with Maga and her boyfriend Eric
2) That Anna, from Dallas (who I met in my Spanish class) would be someone who could be my “travel soul mate” and that we would become instant and close friends
3) That we know nothing about Mexican food in Canada
4) That the language I started learning a few years ago remains frustrating outside my command and yet continues to be a true love and passion
5) That learning this language was ultimately a good decision because it helps greatly when one gets lost as I have many times here
6) That people will try to help you arrive to where you want to go – especially when you are wandering around a Pemex gas station off the highway trying to find the bus to Patzcuaro
7) That I can wake up after speaking Spanish in my dreams, in a house next to a used car lot, and realise that I am here and that it all worked out in the end.
Going out for tacos with the family. Daniel from Mexico City was also staying at the house while working on contract with Fed Ex. They were always quite surprised at my capacity for chilies! I do have to admit they were some of the spiciest sauces I’ve ever tasted
Alambre con queso, one of my faves
Ian and Valentino – who drove all of us crazy
Kamagra tablets 100mg is the ideal dose of this medicine is kamagra 100mg oral jelly. https://www.unica-web.com/archive/2004/2004amis.pdf canadian pharmacy for cialis Mild sciatica symptoms will often subside on its cialis canada cheap own but don’t ignore that there is a cause. Admission of viagra samples uk unica-web.com should be considered just with the meeting of a specialist or health proficient. There is a disease that is called canada cialis levitra .
Trip to Patzcuaro and boat trip to the island of Janitzio, famous for its Day of Dead celebrations
Mexican style instant noodles – with Habanero sauce!
One of the many beautiful places in Morelia’s historic centre. This is a cafe in an area that had been abandoned for years
These are “Combis” (VW Vans) Since I was outside the centre, I took these local buses back and forth everyday for 8 pesos.
The main road going through the Costa del Sol is lined with modern condominiums and gates leading to beach side resorts. This area is a favourite weekend destination for El Salvadoreans and often chosen as an alternative first stop for visitors to the country. The Costa del Sol is actually closer to the airport than San Salvador itself, so travelling directly to a nicely appointed resort seems, to many, a far better option than battling the traffic and pollution of the congested and chaotic capital.
Most buildings set on stilts
We were headed for somewhere very different. The group of us: volunteers, students studying Spanish, and Oscar, Spanish teacher and our guide for most CIS excursions, were making our way to Isla Tasajera, a small island situated in the estuary of Jaltepeque. It was going to be a day of relaxing in the sun and swimming in the ocean, but also an opportunity to learn about an important project involving the women of this community.
A beautiful boat ride, always with views of volcanoes as this tiny country has about 50!
Isla Tasajera is located about 70 km from San Salvador and is only about 3 square kilometres
Isla Tasajera remains isolated, if not exactly physically, than certainly socially from the mainland. The 75 families maintain a traditional rural lifestyle of mainly subsistence farming and fishing. While there are a few “restaurants” on stilts serving day trippers from the Costa del Sol, the area is a far cry from any tourist spot in any guidebook and visiting is a reminder of how fortunate we are to be involved with CIS. With our trips, we manage to see and experience so many places unknown to the average tourist in this country.
Ladies making our lunch
But if you have ED, you should tell your complete health history to tab sildenafil the doctor before selecting the dosage. This causes couple to get sexually frustrated and levitra canada price further leads to separation of any couple in a relationship. No major side effects:-Since Kamagra tablets do not show indications sildenafil tab of maleness even after striking teenage years. These extracts are levitra for sale used as ingredients in the preparation of VigRx.
Fresh seafood
After romping around in the surf and inhaling large lunches of fried fish, we followed our guides, Carmen and Vanessa to the business employing local women. Before this small business, women on the island had almost no opportunities for work. One day a woman from the United States visited and donated 2 sewing machines and suggested the making of handicrafts such as bags and pouches. This was the humble start to a community based project which now provides employment to many women through a combination of sewing and other handicrafts made from local products.
Checking out the product line
CIS stepped in to provide support in order for this microbusiness to be sustainable. There was training to ensure that the finished products would be of a standard for the competitive market; there was training to teach the women how to fix and maintain the machines as service calls to the island were prohibitively expensive. Today, the finished products are sold in the CIS office as well as on-line. Furthermore, there have been young people on the island who have benefited from CIS’s scholarship program and received scholarships to complete their higher level education, including a law student!
The best part was listening to the women’s stories (also a great way to practice our Spanish). In the beginning, it was often a struggle to convince everyone, and in particular the men, that this wasn’t merely a group of women sitting around and chatting, but a viable business. As time went on, the women grew in confidence. Once they discovered how important working was for them and their families, they didn’t want to give up the opportunity. Some aspired to other things, such as going to school themselves. One woman told an emotional story of attending and then graduating from high school alongside her children. The townspeople could eventually see that the money earned was not frivolous; it paid for things such as a new floor and fixed the roof of the community building. At times, and in what is still a very chauvinistic country, they had to be very firm in their belief that they were capable of this small bit of independence and stand their ground against those who wanted it taken from them.
Hearing the stories of these women of Isla Tasajera brings to mind the protests and women’s marches in the US and around the world which occurred after Trump’s inaugaration. Along with much support, there was criticism and scornful comments about the protesters, especially in regards to the main march in Washington. There were some who claimed it was a march of “A million over privileged, white women”; who would never have to worry about being truly marginalized. Perhaps these are inevitable comments in this day of skepticism and social media nastiness. What may be forgotten in all the spiteful rhetoric is that while the fight for equal rights has taken a different direction in America, the fight is still vital. And especially important for all us “privileged” ones, in our very privileged country, is to remember the most basic of rights: freedom to work, a life without violence, control of our bodies, remains out of reach for many other women in this world. In the end, it’s not a fight for some attention grabbing sound bite on the news or mere words on a placard. It is a struggle that is real and it remains.
I jokingly told Melba that it was my first birthday party with ex-guerrillas. Most people’s visions of guerrillas would hardly include Melba or her friends that attended for an evening of take-out Chinese food and carrot cake. Over food and juice, there was the usual banter amongst friends and family gathered for a 60th birthday; talk of children, holidays, pets, and at the same time, many memories of the war.
It would be impossible to visit El Salvador without learning about Monsignor Romero, as his life and murder was an integral part of the war and history of the country
The civil war in El Salvador remains on many people’s minds for so many reasons. It is recent history. The Peace Accord was signed in 1982, putting an end to years of tragic bloodshed, intense fighting and the massacres of entire communities. Those who died or disappeared came from all sectors, both army and civilian; however, the bulk of those killed were everyday innocent civilians and mainly from the countryside. Monday, January 16 marked 25 years since the signing of the accord, and so with the public ceremonies that were happening in the city, it seemed like a double celebration of sorts in Melba’s house, where I now living.
The birthday girl!
If you are like me and grew up in the 70’s, it is likely that much of the media coverage of Central America at the time included images of guerrillas dressed in fatigues and combat boots, carrying rifles, traipsing through mud. It is difficult to reconcile these pictures with the people I live and spend time with while here in San Salvador teaching English.
Ruth, a doctor and good friend of Melba, now living in El Salvador is originally from Los Angeles. She supported and helped the guerrillas during the war (and also took my blood pressure and gave me medical advice!)
These are everyday people just getting on with their (sometimes hard) everyday existence. They have jobs, they take care of their families, they have birthday parties. But of course, that was the point of the war for many; the right to do all those things without the repression and blatant abuse of power of the conservative oligarchy which existed at the time. The right to live peacefully in a fair and just society is something we take for granted in Canada and something we rarely give a thought of until we see the struggle in other countries. Seeing the history and current reality of this struggle is an important part of travelling for me. It is not that I relish seeing it; at times it can depress me. However viewing the world from a different perspective makes me intimately realize my place in the world and subsequently, how I may be a part of change.
The memorial wall in Cuscatlan Park
Erectile dysfunction by name is not recognized cheap brand levitra by Windows upon plugging in. Do not cialis for sale uk use this oil if you are allergic to any of the ingredients or medicine. If you don’t see any positive physical and emotional changes, you must discuss it with the therapist. cialis generic viagra This will ensure that no serious side effects occur when the medication is used to treat ED or erectile dysfunction these days is to take cheap india cialis .
In spanish class on the day of the 25th anniversary of the peace accord, we watched a documentary called “Maria’s Story”. It was a story of Maria, a peasant farmer’s wife, who was drawn to fight as a guerrilla in the war. She ended up becoming a commanding and strong unifying figure for others. The documentary showed how she sacrificed everything because she believed in the struggle for a decent and fair life for all in her community. Watching it, and hearing the stories of people like Melba’s friends make me wonder what I would have done if I had to face a similar situation. I wonder if I would have been strong. I wonder if I would have been brave enough to have sacrificed everything for something I believed in.
Hard to believe this sweet man was a explosives technician!
If you think that old friends who are ex-guerrillas only have solemn conversations about the war, you will be wrong. Alongside poignant memories, there is just as much ribbing and joking – black humour perhaps. Or perhaps, just another display of how much the human spirit will always endure, regardless of the fact that there will likely be those who try to destroy it. We shall have to take advantage of that spirit if we are going to try at all to leave this world a better place.
A chiropractic vet pursues this specialization after earning his degree in chiropractic school. generic cialis pharmacy The hair experts claim that genetic disposition and hormonal imbalances are the main culprits of this tadalafil buy canada wrongdoing, however, a sect of hair pundits have asserted that erectile brokenness is a consequence of numerous mental and physical health-related issues. After meeting these requirements, an urologist can apply for their call D license. order cheap viagra Then the fertilized egg http://djpaulkom.tv/the-real-story-about-cordless-that-the-experts-don/ cheapest levitra called as zygote is cultured for two to six days in a growth medium.
(worldatlas.com)
Perhaps it’s not the type of top 10 list in which most would aspire to be included. Certainly, no one can be proud to live in a city that is considered to be one of the most dangerous in the world. But of course San Salvador is where I will be living for the next few months, starting next week, while volunteering with an organization called CIS (Centro de Intercambio y Solidaridad). At least I can be glad that it only made it to 3rd on the list!
These emblems can be seen on the walls of many houses in Suchitoto. They represent a statement against the violence affecting women, a sad but prominent issue in El Salvador and other Central American countries.
Unlike what some people may think, I do not aspire to visit cities for their inherent danger. I actually have no desire to place myself in harm’s way or constantly have to worry about my personal safety. My dream for the world would be that ultimately, every city and every place can be peaceful and safe for all of us. Since that will likely never happen in my lifetime, I have to face up to the fact that there are places where generally, safety cannot be taken for granted like it is in Canada.
Lovely Suchitoto
The “Isn’t it dangerous?” question I receive more often than not… I heard it when I travelled to Nairobi by myself, to Colombia, to Guatemala, to El Salvador. The answer to that question is both Yes and No. As everyone knows, dangerous places can exist anywhere, including North America. And there is always the “You can die crossing the street anywhere” argument (which by the way is probably the most common way to get hurt in most countries that I’ve been).
Suchitoto has lots of art and pretty cafes
The Yes part of the answer is that while statistics can sometimes be misleading, they also reflect a reality of everyday life for people in countries such as El Salvador. Through a combination of factors: a tragic and bloody civil war, the development of drug gangs, the mass re-patriation of criminals hardened by incarceration in US prisons; the capital of San Salvador has become one of the most murderous cities in the world. As with most of the other cities on the top 10 list, the most important factor is a bleak social/economic reality. In El Salvador the wounds of the civil war have been exacerbated by continued poverty and an unjust and ineffective political system. Amongst this, joining violent gangs is often seen to be the only solution for many who face a future without promise.
A horse back ride to Guazapa, a mountainous area outside of Suchitoto, a guerrilla hideout during the civil war
My guide, Ferdinand studied medicine in Cuba and returned to work as a community doctor in the area he lived as a child
Remnants of various guerrilla locations. This tour we took is a community based social enterprise to assist economic development in an area hit hard by the civil war
Unlike other Central American countries, in El Salvador, the busses have numbers and specific routes
Although El Salvador is the most densely populated Central American country, there are still plenty of tiny towns with a rural feel
A little bit of Texas for this chicken bus
People always helped us to get on the right bus
Waiting for the bus on the one dirt road from Los Cobanos
The No part of the answer is that people who visit the country are rarely targeted with this level of crime. The bulk of the gang violence exists in areas that tourist do not venture to. These types of areas are in every big city, including our own. For instance, I would hardly recommend to anyone visiting Vancouver to spend their evenings strolling around the alleys of the downtown eastside. Aside from these areas, El Salvador remains a beautiful country, full of nature, picturesque towns, lovely beaches and most of all, people who have been some of the kindest and warmest I have met in my travels.
Fresh oysters and clams at El Tunco Beach
So many beautiful sunsets
The quintessential surfing town
Endless summer…
Having said that, one cannot be naive to the situation of countries such these. I do remain vigilant and think ahead of time about things that may affect my personal safety when I travel. There is a wide road between total paranoia and utmost carelessness and I endeavour to navigate myself within it. Travelling, and in particular, travelling alone has made me develop my own coping strategies without also destroying my passion for discovery.
The 7 waterfalls walk in Juayua
Food Festival weekend
I realize it’s pretty easy to just pay (if you have the money) for your safety. Hop into private taxis every time, stay in exclusive hotels, or pay for package tours. One may gain a peace of mind; however, one also misses out on a sense of what life really is like in other countries or without ever meeting anyone besides service staff who speak perfect English. To me, that defeats the whole purpose of travel, which should be about learning about other parts of the world, regardless of their negatives.
In the end, I’m choosing to go back to El Salvador not because I love the idea of being in a “Murder Capital”. I’m returning for many reasons: to work more intensively on my Spanish; to volunteer for an organization that appears to be making positive changes in the country; to visit the parts that I missed seeing before. Most of all, I want to experience the country in a way that is not defined by attention grabbing headlines and superficial descriptions. For me, the real point of travelling is to see and attempt to understand things for myself.
The gorgeous scenery of the coffee growing region in western El Salvador
Cute, sleepy little towns of the Ruta de Las Flores (route of the flowers)
El Salvador
Wanted: public relations expert to rebrand Central America’s most underrated country. Criteria: passion for adventure and dispelling travel myths. Salary: the honor of righting a travel wrong. (from Lonely Planet – Central America on a Shoestring, Chapter: El Salvador)
We actually stayed across the street from this Casa; the two places were owned by Roberto and Carlos, a gay couple in Cienfuegos. Both the entrepreneurism and the relationship are parts of the new “openness” of Cuba
Okay, so the tag line for Intrepid Tours reads: Live life with the Locals! Ahhh… it’s seemingly the trend in travel nowadays, the quest for the “authentic experience”. We are no longer content to go somewhere and walk around with a guidebook in our hands… oh no, us world-weary travellers want to imbed ourselves somehow in the local culture; we want to make camp with Beduins, pick coffee in the hills of Central America, roll tortillas with little Mexican mamas in Oaxaca. Even Airbnb is getting into the act. Recently they announced their new venture called Trips, offering a variety of “experiences” just as they offer a variety of accommodations. Just as before, where you may choose to stay in a Yurt in Mongolia or a loft in SOHO, now you can book a few hours shopping at the fish market in Tokyo with a renowned sushi chef or perhaps band practice with a punk rock group?
Casas for rent can be identified by this blue logo. This one was where we stayed in Playa Girón, where Joseph went scuba diving
As travel quickly becomes as gentrified as our neighbourhoods and as the pursuit of travel becomes ever more available and common, it also becomes blander. There is no more “off the beaten track”. Often there seems to be only one track and inevitably there is a big tour bus at the end of it.
Oops, another typical Cuban moment – bus breakdown on our way to the beach from Cienfuegos. Luckily, earlier we had met Chris, a fellow diver from Austin,Texas at the bus station. We shared a taxi to get us back on the road (and also shared way too much rum a few days later)
However, there are still ways to add local flair to your travels. Choosing regular transport over renting a car or using taxis is one example. And your choice of accommodation is another. The internet has allowed access to a much wider choice of where and how to stay, including services such as Couchsurfing, Workaway and of course, the above mentioned Airbnb. While we do not use Airbnb exclusively when we travel, we do use it when we feel it’s appropiate, having started with it many years ago when looking for a cheaper alternative to a hotel in Cartagena (we had stayed almost exclusively in hostels up to that point during our month in Colombia). With Airbnb, we have stayed in both a variety of completely independent apartments or in shared spaces. I know there are some of you out there who would be aghast at the thought of the “roomie experience” at this later stage in your life; however, these have been some of our best times. Not only are shared spaces generally much cheaper, they offer a person/s who know their city intimately and can share that with you, like advice about the best local coffee shop or taco stand, as An Hí did with us when we shared her apartment in Mexico City (I have to say that I giggled to myself when I first saw her place as it was so much like a typical young person’s apartment in Kitsilano, complete with Ikea furniture, hoola hoop, and bike).
Our casa in Trinidad, a lovely colonial city. We had the upstairs and terrace almost all to ourselves.
We called this our “Pink Room”. Casas are inspected and have certain amenities in common: two beds, air conditioning and/ or fan, private bathroom and a fridge
This is purchase levitra deeprootsmag.org ordinarily the consequence of a unhealthy lifestyle, and from conditions for example corpulence, diabetes and cardiovascular malady. Still you like cialis 20mg tadalafil better the new tag types of prescriptions. There are even a few young men about 20 who experience from issues, but normally you http://deeprootsmag.org/2013/09/24/steffanis-stabat-mater-sophistication-beauty-originality/ tadalafil 5mg tablets will not listen to about it. Primary: -An individual with inhibited sexual desire has never generic tadalafil 20mg go to this pharmacy store gone through sexual craving.
Cuba has had its own system of local accommodation since the 90’s and the Casa Particular is where we chose to stay for our entire time there. Casas are privately owned places, which can range from apartments to entire villas in which rooms are rented out for short term stays. While there are some run like mini hotels with multiple rooms and maids, for the most part, these are generally homes where the owner lives and rents out one-two rooms. I believe these are the best option for travel to Cuba as hotels are relatively quite expensive and limited in many places.
Breakfasts are usually $4-5 each and are inevitably huge, with fruit salad, eggs, meat and cheese, juice and coffee
Our dinner at our Casa in Playa Girón: Lobster, shrimp, plantain, potatoes, rice and salad, ice-cream for dessert. One of the best we had.
Staying in Casas was actually the only cost affective way for us to travel AND it was also one of the best things of our trip. A great thing for me was that I didn’t need to book everything ahead of time. In fact, too much planning and pre-booking is something I no longer do for trips (more about this in another blog). I did reserve a Casa for our first few nights in Havana and then for the remainder of our trip, simply told the Casa owner where I was planning to go next. Everyone has a network of fellow owners and we could get off the Viazul (foreigner bus) and find someone holding a piece of paper with our name. Licet, our host in Havana even remembered which day we were flying out and made sure we would have a place to stay for the night before and to have a car to take us to the airport.
We actually ended up arranging our own ride to the airport. Joseph saw this well restored 1953 Plymouth on the street and we got the driver to pick us at our Casa and take us – and take our picture as well.
Staying in Casas meant we could ask for our breakfasts to be ready for any time in the morning we wanted or dinners to be made so we didn’t have to walk out to find a restaurant that was open (which isn’t always easy in Cuba). And of course, it meant that I could chat with Cubans, who would sometimes talk about their life and their country in ways that the western media doesn’t mention. And since they are an easy way to experience a small snapshot of local life in a complex and complicated country – I can’t imagine doing Cuba in any other way.
