inspiring adventurous people

11 Traveler Meetings in 2010

by Ekua on January 1, 2011 · 12 comments in general travel,inspiring adventurous people,solo travel

“I can’t keep up with your international lifestyle,” my sister says jokingly as I explain the story of how I met the woman whose wedding will be my last of 2010. I laugh along with her because it is a truly unlikely friendship. She is more than twice my age, from England, and we met over four years ago while volunteering in Northeastern Brazil. And yet our friendship has endured. Even though my travel friendships make a ton of sense to me, I realize that others are often perplexed by the lasting connections I have with people I’ve met in random places around the world who may or may not live nearby.

While I am not on the road constantly like a lot of travel bloggers out there (although it may sometimes seem that way because my trip updates tend to take awhile), 2010 was a monumental year for travel and I spent a nice chunk of time exploring new places. Along the way, I met some great travelers and reunited with friends made on travels past. So I want to highlight some of the people who enriched my travels and my life in 2010:

Lauren Quinn

Lonely Girl Travels was one of the first travel blogs I really got into and I’ve continued to be inspired by Lauren’s narratives. What I love most about her stories is that she is able to pinpoint and beautifully articulate the often elusive motives that draw travelers towards exploration. We live in cities that are only separated by a bay, so it wasn’t long before we got a chance to meet up. We initially met at a gallery show in San Francisco and since then, we’ve hiked to a waterfall, ate Senegalese food with a group of travel writers, and took to the streets of the Mission District during San Francisco’s Day of the Dead celebration. Now, Lauren feels less like a travel blogging friend and more like a regular friend.

A Shared Passion for Food and Mexico

When I arrived in Mexico City, there were hardly any people staying at my hostel, so I had a chance to meet everyone who staying there. One turned out to be a vegan/vegetarian food blogger from Brooklyn and a kindred spirit, despite my more omnivorous tendencies. In Mexico City, we had an adventure wandering through the Condesa neighborhood, trying to find Orígenes Orgánicos. After that, she pointed me towards a great cafe in Coyoacan and suggested the chocolate row in Oaxaca. I later found out that the trip she was on was her second to Mexico that year and that she is as enamored with Mexico as I am. She is someone I can still count on to understand me when I am pining for Mexico.

A Classical Guitarist in Mexico City

Out of the 4.5 million people who ride the Mexico City Metro everyday, I happened to become friends with Ivan, a fellow musician who had plans to visit California later in the summer. At first, I didn’t think anything of it because he was going to be in LA. But he eventually made a trip to Berkeley with his friend and we met up again in San Francisco. Hopefully next time our paths cross, I’ll get to see him play guitar live.

The Aussie Vegans

I was apprehensive about having a pair of vegans in my group in Cuba of all places, but they were troopers, often surviving on toast and potatoes and whack Cuban salads. In our group, they turned out to be the people I could always share a laugh with or revel in the nuances of Cuban culture with. After Cuba, they spent a short time in Mexico, then went up to the States to visit Austin. From there, they eloped in Las Vegas and eventually made their way over to my city, San Francisco. I got back to San Francisco a day before they left and took them to my favorite place in the city for margaritas, followed by a taqueria that would satisfy their vegan desires. They saw through my attempt to have them join me in extending Mexico, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

Sarah and Jorge

Sarah Menkedick has a tremendous capacity to put words together in a passionate and inspiring way. Her creative nonfiction stories, along with Jorge’s wonderful photography definitely nudged me towards deciding to visit Oaxaca while I was in Mexico. I’m glad I got a chance to meet them in Oaxaca before they moved up to the States and was truly great to share World Cup matches and other special beautiful days with them.

The Casa Angel Crowd

In Oaxaca, I bunked at a great hostel called Casa Angel. It was only about 6 months old when I was there and it was still a work in progress. Over the course of my stay, there were many changes. Walls were colorfully painted, the rooftop terrace was transformed into a great hangout spot, and a waiting area for the computers was created. At first, the drilling noises on the roof drove me nuts, but it didn’t last long and I enjoyed watching the hostel transform. And aside from being a beautiful little hostel, I met some really great people there. There was Jim, an inspiring older traveler who I previously wrote about. There was Zach, a college student who was at the hostel the whole time I was there and beyond who I affectionately nicknamed, “The Little Brother I Never Wanted.” He fully took on this role and often managed to be simultaneously infuriating, hilarious, and endearing. There was Carlos, the Oaxacan hippie who tricked me into trying chapulines, but eventually redeemed himself by leading a group of us to a great Oaxacan street food stand nearby. There was Kat who worked at the hostel before Zach took over, an awesome artist who I met up with again in San Francisco in September before she moved back to Oaxaca. And there were the brothers who ran the hostel and filled it will homeyness and humor.

A Matador Meetup in San Francisco

When Hal Amen and his wife visited San Francisco during their summer road trip, group of local Matador contributors got together to meet them at Bissap Baobab, a Senegalese restaurant in the Mission District. Lauren Quinn was there, and in addition to Hal, I met Juliane, Naomi, and Valerie for the first time. Bissap Baobab is my go-to restaurant when I am craving a bit of West Africa in San Francisco, so being at one of my favorite restaurants combined with spending quality time with people who love to travel and write about it made for an awesome night.

Catching Up Over Cornbread

In 2008, I traveled through South East Asia, mostly on a loosely guided tour. There were two young Brits on the first part of that tour who I enjoyed spending time with. I met up with them a few more times throughout the trip when we found ourselves in the same cities. Then, like many people on round-the-world trips, they ended up in San Francisco, and I met them for an afternoon. One of them came back to California the following year, but she visited LA. But then this year, she came to California yet again and was in San Francisco. Since she was staying Downtown, an area I tend to avoid eating out in, I didn’t know where to go. Then I remembered farmerbrown, a restaurant in the Tenderloin that serves up comfort soul food in the typical local-organic-sustainable San Francisco way. When we sat down, the waiter brought us mini cornbread muffins. It was the first time my friend had ever heard of cornbread and I had to explain what it was. It was a brief meeting, but it was really good to catch up and fun to introduce a Brit to a different type of American food.

An Indian Wedding

I haven’t yet shared the impetus for my recent India trip on my blog: I was there for the wedding of a friend I made while traveling in Southeast Asia on the same trip I mentioned above. She was my roommate for the first part of it. Our birthdays were separated by just a week and a half, we’d both grew up with parents who’d immigrated from former British colonies, and amongst our group, we were the most into getting a well-rounded South East Asia experience. We bonded quickly and kept in touch after that trip. At first, when she invited me to her wedding, I hesitated. Then I said, “why not?” So I went, and it was great to see my friend again and meet her entertaining friends and family. And the wedding was incredible, the longest and most elaborate wedding I’ve experienced so far.

A Winter Wedding

I’ve already highlighted B in a previous post and she’s the woman with whom I have the unlikely friendship I discussed at the beginning of this post. In Brazil, we volunteered at the same school and she was one of the volunteers who was really helpful when I was getting started. She always had great activities for her class that helped me get my own creative juices flowing. She was always great at keeping in touch while she volunteered and studied Spanish all over the world and eventually settled in the San Francisco Bay Area. Through her, I’ve met some other great local people she befriended on her travels and I’ve now met her kids who also seem to have been bitten by the travel bug. After several overcast days, her wedding day was sunny and joyful. The reception ended with her, her new husband and their band putting on a concert for the guests.

One Last Meet Up

I originally intended to make this a “10 in 10″ type of post, but a last minute meet up changed that. On Thursday, I found out that another co-volunteer was visiting San Francisco and we had a chunk of time where we could get together. She volunteered at the same school as B as I, and she was my go-to partner for traveling around the state of Bahia on weekends. We reminisced about the ups and downs of our experience in Brazil and all of the interesting characters we encountered during our time there. Her wanderlust definitely has not died since that time, and she told me about her plans to visit Jordan, Egypt and Israel in the spring. I came home that night amazed that in the span of two days, I’d gotten to see two of my favorite co-volunteers from Brazil and grateful for such things as Facebook, e-mail, and Skype which have allowed me to stay in touch with the awesome people I’ve met around the world.

{ 12 comments }

Do Not Go Gentle

by Ekua on December 9, 2010 · 12 comments in inspiring adventurous people,Mexico

One day at breakfast, I noticed a man with a head of messy white hair. It stood out in a room full of blacks and browns and blonds that likely had decade or three of pigmentation left.  A couple of breakfasts later, he and his travel partner took the seats across the table from me. The ongoing conversation began that morning.

At home, too many things could’ve stood in the way of this conversation, factors like age difference and the unlikelihood that our crossing of paths would’ve grown into anything more than mere passing. But we’d chosen to stay at the same hostel in the same city and that was all that was really necessary to build a connection in that moment.

Jim was excited to know that we were both from the San Francisco Bay Area. His travel partner was an artist from Vancouver, Canada. They were expats who lived in a small fishing village near Puerto Vallarta and had a circle of artsy expat friends there.

Jim had 60+ years worth of interesting stories and he shared them with a few of us at the hostel over breakfast or in the evenings when people would gather on the roof. He was a Vietnam veteran, and he described his younger self as a daredevil adrenaline junky. He talked about it like his thrill-seeking side had faded over the decades, but I had my doubts. He’d recently gotten into writing, and this was a subject I especially enjoyed discussing with him.

While I was in Oaxaca, it was election season. It seemed like Oaxaca’s favored candidate for governor, Gabino Cue, had the potential to end the 80 year run of the party that was currently in power, the PRI. Jim had the idea that corruption might infiltrate the election process and that Gabino’s PRI opponent could win, which would’ve angered a lot of people. The journalistic hunt for an election story was what drew him to Oaxaca.

But that was just his reason for choosing Oaxaca, there was a larger reason for the larger trip he was on. “I’m traveling until I die,” he told me one day, matter-of-factly. I nodded silently; it was the only response I could come up with. He explained that he’d been diagnosed with terminal cancer and told his time was limited. He’d asked his friend to go with him on the trip, a significant undertaking on her part.

When it came to certain decisions, he had a “fuck it, I’m going to die anyway” type of attitude. But there’d be moments when he was quite distant, and I can’t begin to imagine the reflective state of mind he must have been in at those times.

Election day happened to be July 4th. That night, the hostel had their weekly Sunday barbecue where we happened to eat cheeseburgers (at previous barbecues we’d sampled more local fare) and there happened to be fireworks that actually exploded in full color for us to admire, rather than the daily Oaxaca firecrackers that made a lot of noise but not much else. It wasn’t until those fireworks began that I remembered that it was Independence Day for the United States. I enjoyed the irony in inadvertently having a very American July 4th on the other side of the border

Months later, when I think of it, I can still feel the vivacity of that night. There was an intense, magical energy on that roof fueled by the kaleidoscopic mix of characters, the irregular and unexpected fireworks, the mezcal, the election hopes. We’d been on the roof for hours when we began to hear cars honking as they drove by. We ran to the edge of the roof, but didn’t get there in time to see what was going on below. Soon enough, another honking car’s flags confirmed what we’d thought and hoped, Gabino had won. People cheered. “Ga-bi-no, Ga-bi-no, Ga-bi-no!”

Though practicality made us wary of the amount of positive change a new governor and party would really bring the state of Oaxaca, we were all excited to be there on the day Oaxaca took a step in a new direction. Jim was surprised and happy with the results. But I could see that part of him hoped for more drama, an exciting story to tell.

Election day was my last full day in Oaxaca. The following night, I returned to Mexico City by bus, but not before exchanging contact info with the awesome people I’d met in Oaxaca, Jim and his travel partner among them.

At the end of September, Jim passed away. Though I’d only known him for a short period of time, I carried Jim’s death on my mind for awhile. A few days after I found out, I received a message from Jim’s travel partner, thanking me for being a friend to him during our overlapping time in Oaxaca. I’d assumed that I was the one benefiting from the conversations; Jim had led a fascinating life and his final trip inspired me. But in that 20-something heavy environment, he’d appreciated my willingness to interact with him.

Acceptance of others and acceptance of fate; these are the two reminders embedded in my brief friendship with Jim.

{ 12 comments }

4 Decades of Inspirational Female Travelers

by Ekua on March 31, 2010 · 3 comments in female travel,inspiring adventurous people

I think America’s views about getting older are pretty messed up. An obsession with living longer added to an obsession with being eternally young (in appearance, at least) isn’t a cohesive combination.

I’ve been exposed to both American and Ghanaian attitudes towards aging. I’ve seen women who can barely shape their lips into a smile adorn their 50-something bodies with clothes that look like they’ve been taken from a teenager’s closet. I’ve also seen my little wrinkled octogenarian Ghanaian grandmother singlehandedly get the dance floor started. It seems to me that while Americans attempt to defy age physically, Ghanaians try to do it with their attitude towards living life. I like the Ghanaian aging mentality more. But living in America, it’s hard to not be influenced by the messages I’m surrounded with.

Like other women, I’m constantly exposed to harsh noise that tells me I need to do certain things before I become a washed up old hag. The noise tries to dictate what I’m allowed to do and be at each age in my life. But as one of my friends would say: Fuck that noise.

I’ve come across a few women who may not be doing newsworthy things, but in their own small ways, have said that phrase with their actions. Women who’ve shown me that as long as you’re living and able-bodied, there is no age where true living has to stop and dreams and adventure are tossed aside…

» 30s

In Chiang Mai, Thailand, a strange series of events led me up to a bar where I spotted another solo female traveler. I asked if I could join her, and spent the rest of the night conversing with a kindred spirit. She had many tales of her adventures in South East Asia, venturing off the farang trail and into tiny villages that constantly challenged her views on the way things should be. She also shared stories of her life back home and told me that in order to travel to Asia, she’d walked away from a successful business she’d started. She said that people around her thought she was crazy and to this, she shrugged casually. Running the business wasn’t for her, and more than other people’s ideas of “success”, she was interested in her own well-being and happiness.

» 40s

When I was planning to go to Peru, I did what most budget travelers tell you not to and booked a two day Machu Picchu tour in advance. I didn’t know who I would be on the tour or if there’d be anyone on the tour at all. I lucked out with the one tour mate I had, a journalist from England who lived and worked in Dubai. After several hours on a train, I’d learned a great deal about her life and her experiences with traveling and living abroad. What struck me about her was that even though she’d seen so much, she was not at all jaded. She was obviously a strong and independent woman, yet she spoke with youthful enthusiasm about the possibilities of both her personal life and what she had left to see of the world. Age was a non-issue for her, and she’d found away to make it so that adventure was incorporated into her everyday life.

» 50s

I think my mom has now gotten used to my need to be on the move (even though she still hates the idea of me traveling solo). Whether or not she’d actually admit it, she is directly responsible for my wanderlust. Growing up, my family always actively enjoyed our free time with summer trips and day trips and road trips. And my mom always had a knack for finding humor in the blunders of travel. She still always point out that the most annoying things that happen on trips tend to be the most entertaining moments to look back at later. Now she is in her mid 50s, and life hasn’t gone as planned. But she has explored different opportunities and is making things happen. So at the moment, she is getting ready to retire early, taking classes in child development and applying for the Peace Corps.

» 60s

When I volunteered in Salvador, Brazil, in a sea of recent college and high school graduates, one of the most active volunteers was almost 60. She came up with great lesson ideas that others borrowed from. She had the best accessories when we went out at night and she was the biggest advocate for taking advantage of free time. She often rounded people up for day trips or Brazilian dance classes. After spending a good amount of time in Salvador, she volunteered in several other locations in Central America and Africa followed by Spanish language classes in both Spain and Mexico. Over the course of several years of travel, she’s maintained friendships with people she’s met along the way and brings the many travelers she’s met together. Being divorced for quite sometime, finding a special person to share her life with was always something she desired. She eventually decided to settle in Northern California and recently gotten engaged. While she has slowed down a lot since her days of volunteering, she continues to travel, go to school and sing in her future husband’s band.

{ 3 comments }

← Previous Entries

Next Entries →