So, it’s been about three months since I’ve been home from Venezuela, and I’d be lying if I said that the experiences there don’t still impact me to this day.  I still think about Venezuela every day, but thoughts are more subtle now, and, truthfully, I am less captivated by the thought of returning.  Of course, I would still love to go back one day, but I’m to the point where, even if money was no object, I’m not sure I would be on a plane there tomorrow.  Yes, the infatuation has worn off, but the effects of such a life-altering experience are still far from over. I am now feeling a different sort of emotion; It’s comparable to guilt (but without the bad connotation that comes with that word).  Basically, I feel bad that I don’t miss it as much as I did before…  but I know that this is okay.   It’s okay to feel this guilt, because I know I still love Venezuela and my Venezuelan friends very much, but I also know that it’s okay, not to mention healthy, to not feel head-over-heels enamored with it/them anymore.  Being in Venezuela was such an eye-opening, whirlwind of an experience, that, for a while, I was becoming disillusioned with feeling that it had all been a dream.  A while back, when I was still in Venezuela, I even wrote in a post about how I felt like I was living someone else’s life.

But I don’t feel that way anymore.  it really was my life. And it still is. And as much as the memories may feel like a dreams now, I know that they’re not.  So, this is where I’m at right now: rather than thinking of my experiences in Venezuela as having ended, I like to think of them as a collective “beginning.”  See, study abroad is basically what you make it–if you want it to be that one crazy time in your twenties where you left your life for little only to return and fall back into the same monotonous routines, it can be.  But if you want it to be the beginning of never taking the opportunities we have, especially in this country, to experience vastness and diversity of this world–of God’s creation–for granted, it can be that, as well.  Obviously, I’m leaning heavily towards the latter option (although I really place no judgment on the former).  Okay, but seriously, friends, I’m not saying that perhaps this abroad experience has got me thinking about going to or even living in other countries–I’m saying that, in my mind, there is no other option.  

Venezuela, te prometo que nos vemos de nuevo en el futuro pero no s� cuando, amore.  I had plans to return in December, but a voice ever so faint continues to whisper the words “not yet” and I have no choice but to listen.  I do, however, have a next step in mind.  All I can say now is that, with prayer and guidance, we’ll see where that leads…

–

A magnificent sunset accompanied my mid-air, homeward-bound reflection on la locura that was Venezuela. How fitting. 

Una puesta de sol magnificente me acompan�a durante el vuelo que me llev� a los EEUU. Estaba pensando mucho en todo que pas� en venezuela y me recordaba que con cada atardecer, hay un amanecer que sigue – con cada terminar, hay que empezar de nuevo.  
Creo que nunca me cansar� de este perspectivo…

Location: Pennsylvania

So, now that I’m home (and have been so for about one month now), I probably think about Venezuela every ten minutes (not an exaggeration).  The good news is that I already have plans in the making to return for a few weeks in December.  When I envisioned my study abroad experience, I honestly never thought I would want to return so badly.  I thought it would be more like “Okay, so I’ve been to Venezuela, now where else can I go?”  Now, I have that mentality, somewhat, but I can’t even explain how much I miss Venezuela.  It’s like when you listen to those love songs and think about someone you had feelings for but it didn’t work (or couldn’t) for whatever reason, and now you just miss them and can’t stop thinking about them… Yeah, it’s kina like that. Except, I think about a country (haha, WEIRD).  And, maybe it’s not even the country as much as the people–people that I have already had the pleasure of knowing, and all the people I have left to meet!  Maybe it sounds a little cheesy and saturated with emotion, but it’s true!  And, while I feel that it was necessary for me to come home this time, I have every intention of returning, and I have every hope of possibly going back to live for at least a year.

I don’t know what it is… but there is an energy down there that is beyond description.  I’m not sure if it’s present in any other Latin American country, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it is–I think a lot of it has to do with the culture.  It’s not anything I can really put my finger on, but I do know that here is very different.  I mean, it’s not bad here, I love my country and (most of) the things we stand for… but it’s just… different.  Of course, there are things about the good ole’ U.S. of A. that I’ve missed, but nothing really substantial… that is, substantial enough to keep me from leaving again.  

After having gone all sentimental on everyone, I should probably at least mention a few things about the trip home.  First word that comes to mind?  Tears.  and lot’s of ’em.  The whole “going home” experience was quite shocking, to say the least.  I cried when one of my best Venezuelan friends dropped us off the night before we left, and, well, I pretty much didn’t stop from then on.  I cried that whole night until we had to get up at like 3:30am to catch our plane (which obviously means I got way less sleep than I should have, making crying way easier than it already it was). I cried in the airport at El Vigia when I said goodbye to one of my roommates, Lana, who stayed for an extra two months.  I cried watching the coast of Venezuela disappear into the distance as our plane left Caracas. I cried when I saw the lights in Miami when we arrived in the states around midnightish.  I was too tired to cry (after having spent the night in the airport with some other gringos) when I had to say goodbye to my other roommate, Sam, as we all went our separate ways.  I cried when I saw the quilted patterns of the farmland of Pennsylvania when we came in for our landing at Harrisburg.  I cried walking off of the plane.  I sat in the airport and cried for a little before I came out of the gate.  I cried walking into the bathroom to fix my make-up, and then again when I left the bathroom, prompting me to turn around and give the whole make-up thing another go.  Then, I cried when I saw my family and pretty much didn’t stop until, well, the next dayish.  Sometimes, I still cry.

Why?  Well, there are a lot of reasons, but the biggest one, I think, is that, although I will be returning to Venezuela in the future, the experience will never be the same.  And for me, that’s a little sad, because it was a good one.  The up-side, however, is that, while things won’t ever be exactly like they were the first time, new experiences are waiting to be had!   I suppose the easy answer to the question of why I cried so much is a.) I was really tired and b.) there are so many things about Venezuela that I truly do miss.

The first thing I did when I got home was post a video on my facebook telling my Venezuelan friends how much I miss them.  And even though I talk to some of them almost every day through skype or Facebook, I still miss them now just as much, if not more, than I did then.  The amount of fluency that I gained through my interactions with them is invaluable.  I can barely believe that little miss “no entiendo” (I don’t understand) can now have a deep conversation with someone in Spanish that can last (and has lasted) for hours.

Sometimes, I feel weird that I think about them and Venezuela so much…  I really wasn’t exaggerating with that whole 10 minutes thing.  I mean, my goodness, it was just study abroad… I was only there for four months…  but I can tell you now that Venezuela was only the beginning of a long-lasting relationship with Latin American culture and Spanish that I feel as though I waited too long to begin in the first place.

So,  If you’ve been with me and this blog from the very beginning, you may recall that I said in my first post ever  that I imagined that living in Venezuela would be somewhat like free falling, and that, since I’ve already done that, it should be no big deal, right?  Well, let me tell you… while free falling was way more of an accurate comparison to my experiences there than I ever could have ever realized four months ago, Venezuela was still a big deal. In fact, I think it is pretty much the biggest deal of my life thus far.  And because it was such a big deal, sometimes I still allow myself to become really sad at the thought of  having to live here for the foreseeable future.  Part of me also has the fear that as the days turn into months and slowly turn into years, Venezuela and its people will only become a memory of “that crazy time in my twenties.”   I hope it doesn’t happen like that, and yet, I also hope that I can also learn to appreciate more the moment in which I am currently. 
Fact: the balance between letting go and holding on is not something I’ve yet mastered.

– 

Chao, Venezuela…     

…whaddup, Miami! (yep, I was totally crying like a baby when I took this photo. hahaha)

Location: Lebanon, PA

I have a feeling this is going to be another long one! 

My homesickness from the last post lasted for about a week , and now I’m back to getting all teary eyed at the thought of never smelling these diesel fumes ever again or taking a shady taxi to a shady street vendor to get some bangin’ burgers at 3:00am.  There are so many experiences here that I treasure… so many things that are just not available back in the states.  Lately, I have been thinking about all the relationships I have made here, and the fact that there is a real possibility that I won’t ever see these people in person ever again. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I want to come back, but it’s not like going to Venezuela is like going to the grocery store or to a friend’s house–trips like this take months of planning and saving. I know this, and because I know this, I know that it’s a real possibility that returning here in the future will prove to be quite a difficult task.  This thought makes me sad and I try not to dwell on it, but, sometimes, right in the middle of my day, I am hit by the fact that my time here will continue to pass, and that, whether I like it or not, in roughly one month I will be returning home.

Don’t get wrong, there are things I miss about home. For example, I could go for some warm Olive Garden breadsticks and unlimited salad right about now. Hahaha… just kidding (kind of). Of course, I miss all my friends and family the most!  However, I also know that those relationships are not going anywhere, which may or may not be the case with the relationships I’ve made here.  I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t want to only recall the people I have met here as faces of the past. I want to be able to maintain relationships with most of them and continue to speak Spanish and learn about their culture even once I have returned to my own.

As for daily life here, not much has been happening (I mean, other than the totally incredibly awesome fact that I am still IN VENEZUELA. Haha). 

My roommates and I went to another beach this past weekend called Chichiriviche, which was a wonderful experience with plenty of sun, sand, and HOMBRES (ay, Dios!).  Okay, allow me to explain fully…  the sun was HOT.  I mean, like the kind of hot that makes you think thoughts like “is this what the turkey feels like on thanksgiving?”  And so on (and yes, I can actually recall thinking that exact thought).  the SAND was beautiful, but everywhere (ugh, no me gusta)!  In fact, I probably still have some granules of it sitting complacently in the bottom of nearly every bag I own.  As for the hombres, they were similar to the sand… everywhere!  It’s so crazy the amount of attention we get here… I know I talk about it a lot, not because I think we’re hot stuff and I want everyone to know it (although both of those statements are somewhat true), but because I think I am still somewhat in disbelief.  We always say, “viajamos solas pero todavia nunca estamos solas!” which translates roughly to “we travel alone, but still, we are never alone.”  And it’s true, we always have company. Sometimes, it’s kind of nice; like when we met this nice man named Simon who worked in the terminal and he let us put our stuff behind the counter so we could go get some chow.  And then when we got the number of our bus driver so he could give us personal updates as to when we would arrive in El Vigia, so we would know whether not we were going to miss class or not (we didn’t miss class, fyi).  And there are just plenty of other great examples of how having some chicos to escort you around in VZ  isn’t such a bad thing… but, sometimes, it’s just ridiculous.  Seriously.

So, basically, this was our weekend: We took a 10 hour bus ride from Merida to Valencia, wandered around for a bit trying to find tickets, were escorted to the correct bus by a nice man, arrived in Chichiriviche (after having totally partied it up on the bus! So. awesome.  Siempre hay una fiesta aqui–me encanta Venezuela!)  and were immediately escorted by another man to our posada (posadas are like bed and breakfasts in people’s homes…and Venezuela has them everywhere).  We got a pretty sweet rate for our cute little room and then headed off in the boat (la lancha) for Cayo Sal, one of the many islands found off the coast of Chichiriviche.  Once we got there, we met this really cool young guy from Mexico who was just traveling Latin America by himself.  We chilled with him for the evening and then spent the next day “relaxing” on the beach all day. The reason why I say “relaxing” is because, of course, our stay was not without the constant “I love you” or “hey baby”, oh, about every other second. My personal favorite: “I am beautiful!” Hahaha,  obviously a completely failed pick-up line, but he thought he was pretty cool, which I’m pretty sure is all that mattered to him.  We left on Sunday in the afternoon, but then things went downhill once we got on the bus to arrive in Merida.  The problem? HACIA MUCHO FRIO. Hahaha.  Seriously though, if I knew what turkey in the oven felt like in beach, this was the opposite extreme… and I can now confidently say that I know what a turkey feels like in all its many stages preparation–from frost to fire.  I have the Venezuelan beaches and buses to thank for this.

This weekend my roommates are considering going to Maracaibo for a day… I’ll let you know how that goes!  Now, enough of my rambling and on to your favorite part:

Where we waited to get the lancha (speed boat) from the mainland to one of the many beautiful islands

La lancha!

Cayo Sal? I think?

This is not pool water, my friends!  How awesome. It’s even more gorgeous in person.

Our room in the posada.  And no, it wasn’t this messy all the time… just most of the time.

Our friend Anuar from Mexico! Muy chevere este hombre!

A turtle named andrea that was scooting around one of the store we went into. haha.

Hermanas <3

 And here’s a treat for all of you; a video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KcVoozyudMY) of the bus ride to Chichiriviche–siempre hay una fiesta en Venezuela!

Enjoy!

Location: Chichiriviche, Venezuela

“And all the answers that I started with turned out questions in the end. So the years role on by, and, just like the sky, the road never ends. And the people who love me still ask me, when are you coming back to town? And I answer, quite frankly, when they stop building roads and all God needs is gravity to hold me down…”
-Alison Krauss

–

So, there’s no doubt that, after this experience, I definitely have the desire to travel more places.  Preferably, places in Latin America, but I wouldn’t mind an excursion through the middle east or a quick scamper across Europe.  I definitely want to return to Venezuela one day, but who knows when that will happen. 

Having said all of that, as of yesterday, I’ve honestly been feeling a bit of homesickness.  I mean, it could be because two days ago I wasn’t just homesick, but literally sick out of my mind with some kind of awful combination of the flu and a stomach virus.  Today, I’m okay, but I can’t tell you how badly I wanted my own bed, my own parents, my own cat, and my own boyfriend. Haha. But, seriously, I’m fine now. I just really need to do my laundry… I think I smell! Hahaha.

I think the winning combination of being sick yesterday, being a month into this experience (and my lack of connection with things at home for that whole month) is really beginning to catch up with me. For the first month, I really had no desire to contact home, but, now, I definitely feel a bit of a void.  It’s easy to feel lost here, especially because, although my Spanish has improved immensely, I still don’t feel comfortable enough to travel around the city alone–even if it’s just to get my hair cut.  Sometimes it’s hard to know exactly what to do.  I mean, I love being with my roommates–we are seriously like sisters, but sometimes it would be nice to be more independent.  I’m expecting this to improve with time, but who knows how much more time it will take. 

  This past weekend was Carnaval (or Las Ferias), which is pretty much just an excuse to party for 5 days straight (not that Venezuelans need that), watch bulls die (yeah, I’ll get to that), and, due to the rain, never ever have dry clothes (which probably explains why I smell so bad).  Today was our first day back to school, and, man, was it a doooozy!–two exams today and a final paper and PowerPoint due tomorrow (all in Spanish, of course!)

Okay, now allow me to explain more about my adventures during Carnaval…

On Thursday my roommates and I went to a concert of one of our favorite reggaeton groups here, Chino y Nacho.  For those of you who don’t know what reggaeton is, check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBuePJ4UOtg

Okay, so, anyway… we went to see Chino y Nacho.  We arrived around 10pm, thinking that we would be late, only to find that the concert wouldn’t be starting until 1am!  Therefore, we decided to walk the streets for a bit (because, you know, there’s always a party going on the in the street here in Venezuela. Haha).  Anyway, we walked around for a bit and returned a little before 1am.  To make a long story short, the  group was clearly running on Venezuelan time, because they did not end up playing until almost  FOUR in the morning! Haha. Needless to say, it was a long, interesting night.

The next day worth writing about is probably Saturday.  That morning my roommates and I headed out to “Las corridas del torros” (bull fight), and, man, was that ever the mistake of my life!  Going in, I knew that either the bull or the man would have to die (and, that, all things considered, I would be on the side of the man).  What I didn’t know, however, is that they would be killing not one, not two, but SIX bulls!  Long story short, I cried… a lot, and then I left.  The spirit of the place was just…ugly.  People were screaming and the poor bull was just bleeding everywhere and fighting for its life.  It was not pretty. So, I left, and waited outside for my roommates.  Nunca otra vez en mi vida, en serio! Fue muy cruel y triste.

So, after that somewhat traumatizing experience, we met up with the Venezuelan guys we hang out with a lot (from the beach) and just partied it up the rest of the night.  Basically, during las ferias, they just close down the whole street and everyone just parks their cars along the road and blares the sweet sounds of reggeaton and salsa for all the world to hear! Then? everyone just dances! (and drinks, if I’m being honest).  I love the fact that so many people love to dance here…and that they’re dang good at it, too!  After we danced for a while in the street, it started to rain pretty heavily, and we decided it would be best to take the party indoors. We then made our way, on foot, to one of favorite discotecas (clubs) called Birozk.  Unfortunately, much to our dismay, it was too jam packed with people… so, then we went to our second favorite discoteca, Un Poco Loco.  We finished the night dancing and, well, that’s about all I remember!

Other than Saturday night, my roommates and I didn’t really go out much during Carnaval (at night, at least).  On Sunday, we were invited to the soft ball game by our friends from the beach because one of them plays for ULA (University de los Andes), which is the most prestigious school here, and then he invited us to his house to eat Arepas with his family and friends the next day.  It was beyond chevere to meet his whole family and just chill for the night with la gente de Venezuela.  I really appreciate the time that my roommates and I get to spend with them, because, not only do we have to speak Spanish the whole time, but our time together is always very genuine–like a real group of friends just chillin’, chattin’, and jammin’. Siempre es muy chevere.

Okay, I think that’s all I got for now! I’ll leave you all with some fotoooos:

Coco frio de la calle con mis hermanas! (Coconut juice out of the actual coconut!)

The stage! (and the VIP section that they let us into because we’re gringas bonitas. hahaha)

It’s quite possible that we were a little excited to be there…

Carnaval! This was where the sign was, but this was hardly the begining of the masses of people congregated on the street that day.

awwww yeah, lookin’ like the hottt gringas that we are!
(Fact: there were a group of guys sitting at the entrance of the building of the university all the way in the background behind us, and they were whistling at us the WHOLE TIME this picture was being taken! Ah, Venezuela…
tus hombres son locoooos!)

Las Corridas del torros from afar! I had no idea what I was in for…

Haha, look at me with my sheepish smile… I simply did not know….

That THIS was about to happen… SIX times in a row! There arent any more pictures after this, because, as I said before, I was crying and I had to leave.

After las corridas…

Nuestros amigos venezolanos! (from the beach)

Left to right: Sam (hermana), Luiz, Jesus, Lana (hermana), Alejandro, Christian y yo.  

Okay, so this has nothing whatsoever to do with Carnaval, but it’s quirky and I want to share it.  A couple weeks ago we made Sangria from scratch IN OUR SCHOOL. hahaha.  For those of you that don’t know, Sangria is a popular and delicious alcoholic drink here in VZ, and, let’s just say… this pot was empty by the end of the night. hahaha.

ya me voy! Besitos, amores! 🙂

Location: Merida, Venezuela

“Somehow I’m leading someone else’s life.”

–Joshua Radin

–

Yep, that’s how I feel.  I’m definitely settling into life here, but it’s so different that I feel as though I am not who I was when I took off from HIA early that January morning, and, honestly, it’s a really neat feeling. I’m not opposed to it all; in fact, it makes me want to travel more.  Of course, every day here has it’s own unique set of struggles and joys, but isn’t that how it should be?  

I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is that I love about this culture. Maybe it’s not the culture specifically, but the fact that, here, I have the license to explore.  Explore the land; explore getting to know new, interesting people; explore the things about myself that the familiarity and comfort of home never allowed me to see (and never could).  It’s certainly not easy sometimes – to learn about yourself, that is – because sometimes what you find is different than what you thought you would, but it’s worth it.  So worth it.

Two weekends ago, about 20 of us went with some guides to “Las Aguas Termales,”  which is spanish for “Hot Springs.”  We left on Friday, drove 2 hours to a bunch of mountains, got out and carried our tents, sleeping bags, and book bags another hour throughout the beautiful scenery to our campsite, and then, from there, it was only about a 5 minute walk to the Hot Springs. 

The time we spent there was beautiful and so serene, especially in the evening.  It was freezing at our campsite at night, but the beauty of the surrounding stars and mountains was too gorgeous to care about the cold (that is, until you got inside your tent there was no longer any view to distract you). Lana and I ended up sharing a one-person tent, so we were probably warmer than most. Haha.  Before we went to sleep, I layed out for a little and just watched the clouds pass.  I was nice to be alone with my thoughts for a little; laying out and looking at the stars reminded me of home. It was probably one of the only moments where I genuinely longed for home… but then the feeling passed (haha), and my roommate Sam found me and told me some people wanted me to sing!  I was happy to oblige; we spent the remainder of the night singing songs and chatting it up.  Despite the cold, it was very enjoyable.

Oh, and I suppose I should add this little gem for those of you who dig the details… there weren’t any bathrooms in the mountains! Ha, yeah… it was an experience, to say the least!  The whole time I just couldn’t believe was in the mountains of Venezuela just… livin’ my life. Haha, everyday, I tell myself, repeatedly: This is your life! You are actually here, breathing in the Venezuelan air! (and diesel fumes, haha).

But…I know it won’t be forever… 
and that’s a topic for another post, lest I cry while writing it right now. haha).

—-

Now, on to this past weekend…

My roommates and I went to the beach at Choroni on thursday with four Venezuelan guys. I met one of them in a club here and we became fast friends. I told him that we were thinking of going to the beach, and he asked politely if he and his friends could accompany us, and I said “por supuesto!” which means “of course”!  It was awesome having them with us, because they knew the area and how to take the buses. Also, we spoke spanish the WHOLE weekend! Que chevere!  We left on thursday evening at around 8:30 and didnt arrive at our destination until 4 in the evening the next day.  We returned early this morning at 9am and then headed straight to class! (yeah, I’m just a little exhausted. haha). 

The bus ride there was like 10 hours long, but it was at night, so, in theory, one should sleep for almost the entire duration of the trek… that is, unless they keep the temperature in the bus below freezing, the lights keep turning on and off, and you constantly feel like you are on the rollercoaster from Hell. Hahaha. In case you didn’t get the hint, we didnt do much sleeping.  The bus seats were pretty comfortable. Also, it was an enclosed double decker and we were on the top floor! Awww yeah. Haha, so the bus ride definitely had it’s pros and cons… actually, at one point, somewhere between 2-4am, our bus was pulled over by “la policia.”  We all had to file out, get out bags from underneath so they could go through them – just like that! So different from the states. Anyway…

Once we finally arrived in Maracay, we had to then take a bus from there through the mountains to the beach at Choroni.  Let me just say… craziest bus ride I have ever encountered, even here! I nearly puked. Haha. When we were finally there, we walked around to try and find a posada (hostel, hotel) close to the beach.  We ended up finding a beautiful one for like 15 USD/ night! It was bien bonito and the people who owned it were so nice.  After that, we headed off to the “la playa” for the evening.  The next day we decided to take “una lancha” (speed boat) to another island.  Everything was so beautiful.  I kept repeating to the guys, “No puedo creer que esta es mi vida!” “I can’t believe this is my life”… but it is! Here, i’ll prove it with pictures. 🙂 

Las Aguas Primero…

Now, La Playa de Choroni! Favorite experience so far…

—

Playas y amgios bonitos!

Todo perfecto...

Mandy

Location: Choroni, Venezuela

“Birds flyin’ high, you know how I feel. Sun in the sky, you know how I feel. Breeze driftin’ on by, you know how I feel. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me… and I’m feelin’ goooooood.”
-Michael Buble

–

So, I guess this is what happens when I don’t update for almost a week… I have so much to tell, I don’t even know where to start!

I guess I’ll start with the fact that I am still lovin’ it here!  I really enjoy the time that I am spending with my roommates and Venezuelan friends, because we try desperately to only speak spanish, all the time.  It’s hard and it can be frustrating, especially when you actually DO understand, but they still think you don’t. Sometimes, I totally understand what is being said, I just don’t know what to say in response, so, in turn, they think I don’t understand! Es muy confudido. Haha.

Last week, I went to my first field trip to an organic farm (finca organica) for my botany class.  It was so surreal to see how different some ways of life are from my own.  We had to take a bus to the edge of town and then take two vans up the mountains to get to the farm.  While we were there, the primary farmer took us around and showed us all the crops, and he even let us taste some of them – right off the plant! Pictures…

If you look up the hill behind me, you can see their house.

Mi profesora, Shantiluz, is the one in white.  She’s adorable. haha.

After he took us around the farm, he brought us up to the house, where we learned how to make sugar cane-juice.

The pile of stick-looking things on the floor is sugar cane…

Making sugar cane-juice using his self-manufactured machine! LEGIT.

Me and my fresh sugar-juice with a piece of sugar-fudge-like-stuff! haha. Que rico!

The beauty here is indescribable, which is why we decided to walk back down the mountain to the little town, rather than taking the crazy vans.

After we walked down the mountain, we stopped at a cute little restaurant for some food and wine. Fue perfecto. 🙂 

Of course, I have more to update, but I think this is probably enough for one post. 

I’ll end with some reflection: One thing that has been hard to get accustomed to is not having many obligations (and those of you who know me pretty well can probably understand why I am having such a hard time with this). At home, I am constantly on the move, but, here, I am desperately trying to relax… to be “chevere,” which means “cool” or “chill” in Venezuelan.  So far, I think I’m doing really well.  I’m definitely not so uptight anymore with the many things that happen here that would be illegal in the US.  I hate saying “illegal,” because it has such a bad connotation… but, that’s the reality of it. This is not the United States, and as soon as you allow yourself to accept that fact, you can begin to appreciate life like a Venezuelan. One of my favorite phrases is “asi es la vida,” which means “So is the life!”  I’m trying hard to not force my rigid philosophy of life into the fluidly moving vibe of the Venezuelan lifestyle , because I really think their way of living is quite beautiful;  my hope is that I will be able to retain a small piece of it to take home with me in 3 months.

Okay, that’s going to have to be all for now!  I think my roomates and I are planning to go to “los Aguas Turnales” this weekend! Which means, “the Hot Springs” in english! Que chevere, no?! So, I should definitely have many more stories to share next week!

paz y amor,

Mandy 

Location: Merida, Venezuela