er...did i mention?

i've dropped anchor.

after a brief stint in yakima at essencia bakery, i've settled back down in good old seattle town. considering my graduation aspirations it might be a while before my wandering stretches much further than the streets between campus and my apartment. how do i still have 2+ years of getting educated when it seems like i have been going to school forever you might ask? believe me, i've been asking myself the same question.

but no worries, i kind of like it here. as long as i have the cash flow keep my nose out of the real world and in the books, i'm happy to take full advantage. if you come and visit i promise to show you pictures of my travels, take you to my favorite coffee shop, and excite (or bore) you with all i'm learning about old-growth forests and international forest management.

on that note i am signing off. after twenty-four cities, six countries, and two continents, my wandering feet are officially kickin' it in washington state.

which is still, by the way, one of my favorite places in the world.

the lima airport is an unholy place

i recently spent 5 hours in the aeropuerto internacional jorge chavez in lima, peru.

FIVE HOURS OF HELL

and i will explain to you why...

so after a lengthy or not so lengthy flight you gracefully land in lima peru with plenty of time to spare to make your connection. you think, oh great! i´ll find my gate, stretch out and relax for a few hours before my next stuffy plane ride. you enter the airport and at first glance it appears to be like any other: tv monitors displaying departures and arrivals, people rushing or meandering from here and there, tacky shops with overpriced food and knick knacks... you get the gist. but after a few minutes you begin to realize something is wrong. you arrive at your gate and you are hoping that it isn´t true.

but it is my friend. it is very true.

DING DING DING la gente del vuelo LAN 431, por favor vaya a la puerta numero 6. gracias. DING DING DING...

and it doesn´t stop. it´s never ending. aparently the people of AIJC don´t think that it´s passangers are capable of reading the tv monitors and figuring out their gate numbers without a constant barrage of verbal reminders. i try to block it out, but it´s at that perfect volume that can´t be ignored. i drift off to sleep and it invades my world of dreams...

...the family is gathered together for holland´s birthday lunch. there is hassle getting everyone seated. ashley announces, "this year we will be eating airline food because it´s holland´s favorite" DING DING DING "oh are we sitting down to eat?" asks grandma potter "because holland and i just finished removing all of the cushions from the chairs." DING DING DING mom says, "will the passangers of flight 529 please make their way to gate number 14"....

AHHHHH!!!!!!!

i wake up in a cold sweat. i search for my ipod in hopes of drowning out the noise with some death metal. the battery is dead. i look at my watch. one hour to go.

the lima airport is an unholy place.

Antarctica revisited: new year´s polar plunge

fourth from the left. the pain is real.

um...

Don´t worry grandpa, i left ecuador

Really grandpa, i promise i am no longer in ecuador

countdown...

i registered for spring quarter today. countdown to plane ride, the states, unpacking my backpack, work, school, t-minus 6 days

useless fact of the day

llamas are communal shitters

home again home again

well sort of.

alana wanders
past moutains streets fronteras
to a gate marked home

lines in the sand

Nazca, Peru

a trip to hell (or a day in the life)

of a miner in potosi.


potosi is a breath taking city in more ways than one. first of all, with the impressive title of "highest city in the world" (4060m), you might find your lungs working a little overtime. (there goes the guide book language again, i need to stop). but more significantly, in my opinion, is the town's magnificent beauty and how it connects to both a horrific past and a present day realitiy.

silver. minerals. the blood, sweat, and lives of millions of indigenous workers and african slaves that built the town up from the dust into the largest and wealthiest in south america during the end of the 18th century. while present day potosi falls way short of this former title, the work in the mines continues as the city continues to be blessed (or cursed) with an enormous amount of economically significant mineral that has yet to be extracted.

hey, at least working conditions must have improved since back in the day, right guys?

well, not really.

alarmingly medieval conditions, tools, and manual methods of extraction leave the miners of potosi (youngest age around 13) with an average lifespan of 10-15 years once they begin work in their own little sector of hell. they seem to cope by chewing massive amounts of coca leaves, consuming an equally massive amount of 95% potable alcohol (which can conveniently be purchased in the same store as the dynamite and other supplies used for work), and by daily offering and rituals to tio, the devil (or god) of the mines.


in town i found a tour group that was offering tips of explosives, refreshments, and bags of coca leaves in exchange for a one hour venture into the most "accessible" and "ventilated" areas of the mines. i tagged along and emerged from the darkness after what seemed like a full day of stumbling, crawling, climbing, and gasping for fresh air through the bandana wrapped around my face with only a lamp on my hard hat and the miner to guide me.


i was only there for a fraction of a day, barely even exherting myself. these men spend almost every day of their lives pounding and shoveling and hauling pile after pile of rocks from dawn until dusk.

for what? for silver baby. lots of silver.

tihuanaco, bolivia

only a short bus ride from the bustling city of la paz lies the most significal archeological site in bolivia. ... woah i think i have been reading too many travel guides lately, that sounded like lonely planet material... nevertheless, the history of the tihuanaco, or lack there of, is definately enough to make it into the guides. this pre-incan culture probably arose around AD600 but by AD1200 it had pretty much faded into oblivian, shrouded with just as much mystery as that of the abandoned incan city of macchu picchu.

the site is an amazing combination of towering megaliths, pyramids, sites still undergoing excavation, and a creepy room with dozens of faces carved into it's walls. as i explored the area, the heavens apropriately boomed with thunder while a lightening storm carried on in the distance. all in all it made for a good history fix and a satisfying day trip from la paz.

pictures to come when i can figure out how to get to the pictures i uploaded onto my ipod

salares

wandering around on the mind-boggling brilliance of the salt flats of uyuni was blindingly surreal. definately near the top of my out-of-world experiences list. as my bare feet traipsed through the submerged salty wonderland, i couldn´t help but think of slartibartfast the planet designer from hitchhiker´s guide to the galaxy and how this unreal natural formation had to have been the result of some eccentric crazy who was just having some fun.

for 3 days i traveled by jeep with a few girls from argentina and a couple from france. we visited lagoons dotted with flamingos, marveled at amazing volcanic rock formations, and watched the sun rise with sol de mañana´s geysers near the chilean border.

from there it was a return trip to uyuni and a night bus to potosí, the highest city in the world. at around 11 pm the bus stopped with a flat tire...i held my breath...but thankfully we were on the road again a mere 15 minutes later. just enough time for me to hop off and have a cup of tea in a little restaurant in the middle of nowhere.

vicuñas flamingos and geysers, oh my!

zen wandering

a bus ride to uyuni

in a bus turned
immobile box forty
(not so) traveling travelers maker their way
(only in slumber) to their would-be destination
just in time for what had been

in a bus turned
test of patients thirty-one
awakens to snores and girgles and heavy breathing
and watches the darkened landscape
not change outside her window

in a bus turned
sweltering coffin eight
large flies buz around thirty-one´s head
humidity beads on the window
and she gasps for morning (not so) fresh air

in a bus turned
desperation twenty
fingers and toes are counted and recounted
when finally the engine sputters resurrection
and life moves into movement

i splurged

so last night i decided to splurge.

i spent 40 bolivianos (US$5.30) on a private room with clean bath. excelente. first warm clean shower since santiago.

so fresh and so clean-clean, i´m headed in a semi-cama to the salar de uyuní! the person sitting next to me will be very thankful of my decision.

hygienically, alana

on an island in the sun

We’ll be playing and having fun
And it makes me feel so fine
I can’t control my brain

hip hip

Isla de Sol, Lake Titicaca
3 days hiking and camping in the island of the sun.

gaucho of the night
points to moon where sky sombras
in the sun´s birthplace

donkey wanders

peace from la paz

i´ve traded in my bathing suit for my trusty wool cap.

after fifteen hours of travel and a run in with bolivian immigration that involved a 5:30 am call to mom and dad in the states, a subsequent fax of immunization records complete with forged yellow fever vaccination, 100 dollars and a little sweet talking with border patrol officers, i arrived legally in la paz just in time for the final day of carnaval festivities. mom, dad, i OWE you. more than the usual eternally indebted daughterly kind of way.

sportin the bolivian visa

all of that behind, it feels good to be back in the andes. well, it does now. despite the fact that my lungs have endured ecuadorian altitudes without blinking over the past two years, yesterday morning as we aproached la paz, they were like WHAT IS GOING ON?!?! and i puked in the bus bathroom. only once. after an asprin and a few bottles of water i felt solid and ready to go.


it feels like i´m much closer to ecuador. indigenous women with their long braids and dress walk down the streets with babies strapped to their backs in bright colored shawls. yesterday, wandering down the streets, i dodged waterballoons that came from building windows, passing cars, and children roaming in packs around every corner. music blared from cracked doorways and the back of trucks while people danced in groups on the sidewalks. fire crackers were lit randomly, but went mostly unnoticed, even to the old woman who made her way down the street with bits of confetti paper stuck in her pinned up hair. streamers, balloons, and flowers everywhere, from the gutters to garbage cans, buildings, cars. carnaval is alive and well.


until later, paz from la paz.

dogs, sunsets, and green tea.

beach bumming in chile

hola a todos!!!

i've been beach bummin´ for a week on the coast of chile with my buddies from santiago. they decided to give me some company on my trip north, so we grabbed a tent, some sleeping bags, a bottle of white wine and a melon (for some tasty chilean smoothies), and hopped in their truck. the stars made me anxious for mazama in may, the chilled out people we hung out with in the dusty beach towns made me miss hawaii, and the sun soakin left me a little less pale than usual. crossing the atacama desert, the brilliant contrast of ocean shore and dry crumbling earth made it hard to sleep during travel. upon arrival in iquique, i said goodbye to my friends and headed for the hills....

i´m not gonna lie, while the beach is good for a relaxin vacation, i´m a mountain girl at heart.

dear ryan,

i love my backpack
almost as much as i love you.

alana

northward bound

keeping the vivid blue-green coast to my left
and rocky desert to my right

i´m beach bumming under the chilean sun
on my way to the bolivian border

stay tuned for pictures, words, historias
when i have easier access to internet

paz

wandering feet

the necessities

images into words: valparaìso

on the half hour walk from bus station to hostel

• a man staggers into a butcher shop with literally half of a cow slung over his shoulders. beatles music is blasting through speakers in the doorway.
• an old lady in a flower print dress is playing pinball in an arcade with bright flashing lights. she whacks the side of the machine and utters a chilean profanity.
• pirate-esque eyepatch man (neighbor one) stands arguing in the doorway with belly-length bearded man (neighbor two) across the street.
• two junked televisions sit stacked and abandoned on the corner, the first painted "apáguelo" and the second "viva la vida".
• lazy dogs sleeping EVERYWHERE. children eating avocado smothered hotdogs bigger than their heads. murals, tags, graffiti, urban art on every wall and surface.

switchback ride at the argentine-chilean border

santiago sunset

book meme

tagged by rufus mccain and ursumagrandma

1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

la casa de los espìritus, Isabel Allende

al morir su madre, fèrula se encontrò sola y sin nada ùtil a lo cual dedicar su vida, a una edad en que no tenìa ilusiòn de casarse. por un tiempo estuvo visitando conventillos todos los dìas en una frenètica obra piadosa que le provocò una bronquitis crònica y no llevò nada de paz a su alma atormentada. esteban quiso que viajara, se comprara ropa y se divirtiera por primera vez en su melancòlica existencia, pero ella tenìa el hàbito de la austeridad y llevaba demasiado tiempo encerrada en su casa.

with the death of her mother, ferula was found alone and without anything useful with which to dedicate her life, at an age that didn`t have the ilusion of marriage. for a time she was visiting tenement houses every day in a frantic charitable deed that provoked chronic bronchitis and didn`t bring any peace to her tormented soul. esteban wanted her to travel, to buy clothing and have fun for the first time in her melancholy existence, but she had the habit of austerity and spent too much time enclosed in her house.

i reached into my backpack and grabbed this first, which is way more interesting than lonely planet (the other book in my pack) would have been.

mike. renyel. aldo. jared. justin.

post em in the comments

avocados and ecuadorians

saludos de santiago, chile!

after a cross country journey i have arrived in the capitol of the longest country in the world. as the largest city in one of south america´s most developed countries, it feels like i´m closer to home in the US than to it´s andean neighbors of peru and ecuador in the north. however, i find myself in the home of 4 cuencanos, munching on ecuadorian candy and banana chips and complaining about how damn hot it is down here in the summer. not quite the full chilean experience but hey, i´m having a good time. andres vinueza, the nephew of the baker i briefly worked for in quito, ecuador, has graciously offered me his couch for a few days. it´s really quite amazing how friendships can lead to human connection all over the world. being warmly accepted by a group of people i´ve never met in a country i´ve never visited feels good. better than good.

today i´m getting oriented in the city, visiting parks, museums, and a cemetary with a memorial for the victims of the pinochet dictatorship. tomorrow i´m headed out into the countryside for a wine tour (!!), and on sunday i´ll make a daytrip to valparaiso, a nearby town and birthplace of pablo neruda.

my grandma potter would survive here just fine, avocados get smothered on everything. yummmm.... lunch time

visions of sombras and a semi-cama

last night i took a bus to còrdoba, argentina. kickin' back in a semi-cama on the second level of a double decker, my neighbors included a holland-aged boy, loudly sniffling on his mothers lap as he waved resistantly to an old man outside the window (grandpa), an elderly stern-looking argentine lady who commented on the punctuality and service of this particular bus company (the aunts? jaja), and a young couple who probably spent more time gazing into eachothers eyes during the 9 hour trip than sleeping. I drifted in and out of conciousness, arms arduously shoved into my dad's purple backpack for warmth because who knew that the temperature automatically drops 20some degrees when you leave buenos aires? the bus driver's unused jacket hung, daunting me, within arms reach for the entirety of the drive.

a drizzly morning greeted me in còrdoba today, which quickly turned into pleasantly overcast as i wandered the streets of the so called "cultural capital of the americas". while "palm springs of washington" quickly comes to mind, i won't completely take away it's credit: the old churches, universities, and plazas hold a relaxed charm that could be refreshing if you ignore the blocks and bocks of tourist-geared shops.

speaking of tourism, the conveniency of aprx. 5 kodak shops within walking distance of my hostel leads me to share a noteworthy note: i purchased a disposable camera for 15 argentine pesos. it should hold me over until my intended brush with santiago's electronics black market. according to felipe, my chilean friend, you can get a sweet-ass camera for a mere 20 bucks. who knows, maybe i'll get a good deal on a nikon d40X with pictures from antarctica on the memory card.

me: (looking wide-eyed and very american) ¿de verdad?
translation: really?

Felipe: Estàs en latinoamèrica, mi amor.
translation: you're in latin america, my love.

until then, i'm taking a ride back in time to the pre trigger happy days of non-digital cameras

a boat ride to montevideo

oh capital of uruguay
your beach and plazas make me cry
their beauty one cannot deny
and this would be the reason why
caught in a trance i stood to fry
under the sun in uruguay

scheming in buenos aires

Hola!
for grandparent proof that i am alive and well, refer to above foto taken today at an art museum in buenos aires.

moving on, allow me introduce you to a.) a crazy metal flower in BA that opens and closes with the sunlight and b.) an equally crazy german named kim who i have been running around with for the past few days.

moving even further along, the following is a rough outline of my wandering scheme between now and the beginning of march. my plan is to catch a night bus out of BA tomorrow evening.

BA-Cordoba-Mendoza-Uspallata-Santiago (chile)- Valparaíso-Serena-Antofagasta-Arica-La Paz (bolivia)- Oruro (for carnavaaaaal!)-Uyuni-Sucre-Copacabana-Cuzco (peru)-Lima-CUENCA ECUADOR

i should be able to cover most of the distances by night buses, so i can sleep through long boring rides and not waste much day time on travel. somehow between the 1st and 6th of march i need to find my way back to buenos aires but i haven´t decided how i´m doing it yet. all together it´s about a 3 day bus trip, or i could split it up with a cheap flight or two.

anyway, in true alana fashion i have put off my last antarctic assignment until the last minute so i´m off to finish it up and email it out.

paz, alana.

Happy Birthday, take two

no seriously, i love and miss you dearly.

have some fun today, and enjoy your vanilla bean cake a la jean this saturday. i heard she´s a decent cake-maker.

lovelier,
alana

aires buenos aires

he caminado andado vagado disfrutado
one week here in aires buenos aires

passing my time with old friends new friends in parques museos centros culturales casas calles donde sea

it´s overwhelming here, all of the life, activity, sights, sounds, smells
a flooding of the senses

today i woke up itching for the countryside. my mouth sipped from a mate gourd and my mind wandered onto a bus headed for the chilean border. i managed to grab it`s attention and convince it to come with me first to uruguay.

i´m headed across the river.

besos, alana.

Happy Birthday

I kind of miss you and your stupid dogs.

lovely,
alana

Yuck.

did you know that president bush´s daughter was in buenos aires a few weeks ago, and that her bag got stollen along with the pickpocketing of her secret service escorts?

this = less tragic.

alana getting robbed in plaza de mayo = more tragic.

Antarctic Haikus

Albatross wanders
circumnavigating sleep
wind pushes feather

***

a polar sunrise
came from the blue-frozen ice
never haven sunk

***

curious penguin
lies starving on his rock nest
for the sake of life

Andando por Buenos Aires, Argentina

buenos días buenas tardes buenas noches de la ciudad de BA, where professional dog walkers stroll through parks trailing a dozen leashes and wagging tails, the old and young alike sit on benches sipping their mate from morning till night, and all of the lingo and slang i picked up in ecuador in an attempt to socialize like a local sounds foriegn and silly.

i'm entering my third day here in a city that never sleeps, and have yet to scratch the surface of the countless barrios, lugares, cultura that there is to discover here in the capital of argentina. my friend´s apartment (who´s couch is where i currently reside) has a balcony that overlooks a small fruit stand and the buses, motorcycles, and pedestrians that make their way up and down our cobblestone street. i have already both lost and found myself with great success on the subway to the city center and back, and i find myself saying che with greater frequency as the days roll on.

a couple fotos from the past couple days:

Russian word of the day: кит

Pronunciation: "keet"

English Translation: Whale

Welcome aboard the orlova: a russian owned and operated ship that rests in the hands of captain Igor. while igor may be a man of few words, he is an inteligent and perceptive all around bad-ass of the bridge. while you may be squinting through the binoculars, focused on your surroundings, he will lean back nonchalantly, a cigarette hanging from his lips, and effortlessly proclaim ..."kit"... after your hours of fruitless attempts. Don´t be dismayed, however, by his wildlife spotting superiority. he is master in command of a ship the frequents antarctic waters. you are a silly little tourist.

Humpback whale!

snow ball fight. antarctic style.

the drake shake

game: FUEGO
instructions of play: stand on a boat crossing the drake passage, facing either port or starboard. every time your feet become unplanted as a result of your inability to master the "drake shake", add a letter in the sequence F-U-E-G-O. once you have completely spelled out the word, you are a big fat loser. sit down and take some sea-sickness medication before it is too late. the last (wo)man standing is the champion, which makes the fact that you looked completely rediculous to all other passangers on board who had no idea what you were doing totally worth it.

Dearest Peg,

I have gone against all integrity as an environmentalist studying the impact of tourism in antarctica and smuggled a (small) rock off the continent for your collection. the only stipulation of the gifting of said rock is that you are not allowed to make fun of my granola eating tree hugging ways for an entire month upon my return.

Love,
Alana

the MARCH of the penguins??

contrary to what the title namer of this film would lead you to believe, penguins are in fact some of the most rediculously clumsy creatures when attempting to navigate around out of the water. the chinstraps, gentoos, and adelies i hung out with during our landings were a neverending source of entertainment. so once a penguin gets it in his or her penguin mind that it would be nice to move around out of the water (usually to nest, meet other penguins, or head back to the ocean, but honestly, sometimes they´d be chilling on an island with one or two others for absolutely no reason) they stick their wings straight out in an attempt to balance themselves and then waddle about similarly to ralphie´s younger brother in a christmas story when his mother bundles him up for school. if the terrain is slightly rough then tripping and falling is usually involved, and big human footprints in the snow further complicate the matter. to make their lives a bit easier they play endless games of follow the leader, thus forming penguin highways of packed down snow across the landscape.

"penguins may seem cuite and cuddly, but they are in fact loud, smelly guano producing machines" -jenn, a classmate

penguin guano is a very distinct smell, especially when you´re talking about the penguin guano produced by social breeding colonies of 300+ pairs. if you´re lucky, you might get a bit of the true antarctic experience yourself upon my return, as i´m sure the odor will not have left my waterproof pants by this time.