After leaving the east coast I headed to San Diego for almost 10 days.  What a treat to be able to fit this stop into the ‘Around the World in 10 months’ schedule.  Since my next destination was Australia, it just made sense to layover in San Diego for a couple of days to catch up with friends.  San Diego is my second home, having lived there for 7 years.  My friends are like family to me.  I am truly surrounded by the most caring, kind, generous and loving people a person could ever ask for.  You may think you have good friends, but let me take a moment to assure you that mine are by far the best! It was a bit unreal the level of support that arose around me last summer as I was preparing to leave for my trip.  So many people stepped up to offer emotional and tangible support.  From engaging in long conversations to letting me borrow things like backpacks, travel gear and even a CAR after I sold my own, it was truly unreal.

I struggled a bit when selling my car.
True story: I was talking to my dad one night about how difficult it was to sell this thing.
He responded with “Oh come on Theresa.  Doing this on your own builds character.  This is fun!”
“Dad would you be able to bake a cake? Layers, icing, the whole 9 yards?”
My dad is notorious for being a non-baker, non-cooker. According to him, my mom is so good why would he even want to attempt it.
After a moment he responded with “Well yeah probably I could figure it out.”
“Okay Dad, but would you find that experience fun or like it was building your character?”
“No  I would probably hate it.”
“Well that’s exactly how I feel about selling my car.  I can do it but I hate it.”
Radio silence on the other end.
“Hello Dad?  Are you still there?”
“Yeah, point taken.”
“I rest my case.”

So the car.  Selling the car was a nightmare.  I began the process  of selling it to close to my date of departure.  Because of this, I had to entertain the idea of keeping the car for the year while I was away.  This wouldn’t have been an issue if my parents lived in the area but seeing that I had no family around I wasn’t sure where I could store it.  Finally in a fit of desperation I emailed my principal (who lives outside of San Diego in a town with a bit more land than most of my friends.) I emailed her asking if worst case scenario could I store my car at her house for a couple of months.  She responded with: “Theresa!  Yes, you can keep your car with us.  Tom (her husband) will start the car every few weeks and try to sell if for you if you would like. Just let me know.”  WHAT?! I mean really.  This is my boss. How lucky am I that I have these type of people in my life?  Pretty unbelievable.  Ultimately, I was able to sell my car (through a reference from another friend!) and all was well.

My friends created a “Read Me When. . .” card gift package.  They all took time to write me a card and then titled them in different ways.  “Read me when you are feeling homesick,” “Read me when you are so happy to not be working for a year,” “Read me when you need to remember how much we miss you.” I read these cards every few weeks and it means so much to me.

Heading back to SD was a bit of a mindtrip for the first couple of days.  In Pennsylvania, I have spent 7 years feeling like a visitor in that I am used to living out of a suitcase and borrowing my parents car (‘high school style’.)  Being in SD as a visitor was so strange.  Not having a car, sleeping at my friend’s houses, rushing around to ‘visit’ people, stopping in at my old school with someone else in my office and doing my job; it all just felt kinda surreal.

Luckily after a few days of resettling, my friends and I didn’t miss a beat.  It was like nothing had changed. I attended a lovely bachelorette party in LA, spent quality time with friends, visited my adorable cat and the wonderful family he is residing with, cut 11 inches of my hair, attended at bonfire on the beach and had an overall fabulous 10 days of catching up.

Throughout my visit my friends were so sweet saying things like, “We are just so proud of you for doing this.”  Proud of me? Proud of me for vacationing! For taking the year off of work and traveling!  But. of course,  I knew what they were saying.  Proud of me for taking the leap into the unknown.  My typical response was “I couldn’t have done it without all of you!” Another thing I have heard is “You are so brave. I could have never done this.”  Honestly, my thoughts are “Yes you could!”  I’m not quite sure who I am fooling out there, but I am really not that brave.  I get scared all the time. Half the time I have absolutely no idea what I am doing. But that doesn’t stop me from doing it.

I read a quote once that said “Being brave is not being afraid to be afraid.”  I AM afraid or anxious or nervous many points along my path, but I try to remind myself that it’s okay to be afraid.  I don’t love to fly.  I hate goodbyes. I don’t really love heights. I’m not the biggest fan of spiders. I’m a bit of a homebody. I miss my family and friends all the time. And all those things are okay. What’s not okay is for that fear or anxiety to stop me from moving forward.  Another story I love:

An old Cherokee chief was teaching his grandson about life…
“A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.
“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.
“One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, self-pity, guilt, resentment, lies, anxiety, and ego.
“The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, kindness, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.
“This same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather,
“Which wolf will win?”
The old chief simply replied,
“The one you feed.”

Moral of the story?  Stay positive and keep the faith!

San Diego Friends:  If I didn’t tell you how much you affected me and helped me with this whole transition please take this little note as a formal THANK YOU. I love you all a whole lot.

I left Buenos Aires headed to Baltimore via Toronto.  My parents were picking me up in Baltimore. When one buys an airline ticket with points the layover could be just about anywhere.  The Toronto airport was a tad confusing because I went through US Customs there instead of when I arrived in the States. Apparently the US has agreements with certain countries to do customs before even arriving in America?  Going through US customs is always interesting. . . Going through US customs at 6am after a 15 hour overnight flight and not yet being in the US is downright wacky. I always feel like I am being asked trick questions and I am thisclose to staring in my very own episode of Locked Up Abroad.

US Customs Agent: Hello.
Me: Good morning.
UCA: Why were you in Argentina?
Me: Traveling.
UCA: Why are you in Canada?
Me: Ummm because my layover is here?
UCA: Why are you going to Baltimore?
Me: Ehh because my parents are picking me up there?
UCA: Where are you going from my Baltimore?
Me: Pennsylvania.
UCA: Why?
Me: The holidays?
UCA: Where in Pennsylvania?
Me: Hershey?
UCA: Welcome to the United States (while we are both standing in the Toronto airport.)
Me: Thanks. . .

My parents did, indeed. pick me up in Baltimore and we headed to PA.  I loved being home.  It gave me such an amazing perspective for this trip.  When I left in September, I had brought a bunch of clothing and things back from California to store at my parents house.  As I was packing for my trip, I thought about how I really didn’t like any of the things I had brought with me.  Nothing was particularly wrong with anything, I just wanted things that were newer, better, bigger etc.  And yet, when I walked into my room at my parents home and opened the closet where I had stored my things it was like opening Pandora’s Box.

I have so much stuff!!
It’s all clean!!
I can do laundry whenever I want!!
Look at this huge bottle of shampoo!!
This is unbelievable!!

Wearing the same clothing and have mini packets of supplies for 3 months straight will REALLY make you think twice about the things you own.  Once that initial This is so great!! wore off, I was back to being ‘so-so’ again about all my things.  Why does my brain do this to me?  I’m sure others feel this way too.  There is the initial thrill of having something new only for it wear off days, weeks, months later.  A momentary high (I love my new car!!) before it fades into background noise of financial responsibility ($49.95 for an oil change?  That is ridiculous!)

For the next year, all the “stuff” I own fits into a little suitcase and backpack.  Does it drive me insane at times not to have all my stuff? Yes.  But I also get a sense of freedom from not being tied down to the ‘stuff’.’  The car, the house, the clothing. It gives me time to reflect.  I have what I have and I am comfortable with what I have.  I don’t feel the pressure to have the nicest clothing, makeup, hair because I have no other choice.  During this next year, my money is being spent on buying an experience.  Right now that is more important than all the ‘stuff’ I could collect along the way.

If you ask me what I did at home on the East Coast for a month, I wouldn’t have a riveting answer for you.  And yet, I loved every second of it.  I visited friends, spent time with my family, cooked with my mom, went to a college reunion, joined a pickleball league with my dad (if you don’t know what this game is-google it.  So much fun.  Especially when playing with mostly retired people who have had some sort of knee, hip, rotator cuff replacement surgery. Did I take it any easier on these folks?  Heck no. They were fierce competitors!) played with my nieces/nephews, watched Julia graduate with her masters as a Physician Assistant, and all in all spent quality time with the people I love.  It was such a treat to be with my family.  They are so supportive of me through this whole endeavor.

My parents, of course, are too good to me but my siblings are as well.  Being one of five kids is such a complex dynamic. I am so thankful for my siblings.  We are all so different but alike at the same time.  Each one of them has helped me this year more than they know. Their roles are as follows:

Aaron: The Problem Solver. My oldest brother is the guy who can figure things out.  He is the one I email/Skype/message if something is broken or malfunctioning. He’s the one I called when I deleted the wifi capabilities off my laptop (don’t ask me how) and had no idea how re-install it.  He’s the go-to guy when things go awry. He’s the one that answers an email in 5 minutes when I say “A little help needed please!”

John: The Motivator.  John is the one who says: “Keep blogging!  That was funny/interesting/good stuff.” John is the guy who infamously said “What are you going to win a Pulitzer for your blog.  Just start already.” He sends me regular emails saying “Hi. Where are you?  Fill us in! Stop ignoring your family!”

Matthew: The Consoler. Matt is the one who is assuring me on a regular basis.  “No, you don’t have Ebola. I think it’s food poisoning.” “No I don’t think you should buy a house, I think you should travel.” “No I don’t think you are crazy.  I think you are crazy not to do it.” Matt will spend an hour on the phone with me talking about everything from life decisions to communicable diseases.

Julia: The Do It Already-er.  Julia is the one telling me to do things NOW.  When deciding to move to California 7 years ago, she and I were on a walk and I said “I don’t know. . . I think I may do it next year.”  She responded with “If you are going to do it, I think you should do it now.” This past February, I called her and we were talking about the possibility of me taking the year off work this year to travel. I said to her “I don’t know.  I think I may do it next year.”  Julia responded with “What is going to be different next year?  If you are going to do it, do it now.”  So I did.

I’m not exactly sure what role I fill for my siblings.  Hopefully, it is something as beneficial as what they provide me!

Home was wonderful and it was -oh so- difficult to get back on the road.

Before leaving on my trip, I had a couple of friends (jokingly and not) say to me, “You should tell people you are from Canada.”

WHAT?!
Why would I do that?  I want people to meet me, like me, then think ‘You know . . .those Americans really are pretty great.’

I have to say, this is fairly true!  When first meeting people, the question I get asked most is  “Where are you from.”  It can be a bit abrupt at times!  “Hello! Where are you from?”  My response changes depending on my mood.  It can be anything from “United States. Pennsylvania. Philadelphia. Hershey. California. San Diego.”

Without fail, if my answer is California there is a starry look that comes to a person’s eye.  What is it about California? I think it’s a couple of reasons. First- people are able to immediately identify it on the map. Second, there is a certain appeal that comes with the state.  Hollywood!  Glitz! Celebrities! Glamour!

Another thing that apparently comes to people’s mind (usually my cab drivers!) is a famous celebrity turned governor.  A typical interaction goes something like this:

Cab driver:  Hi.  Where are you from?
Me: Hey there.  California.
Cab driver: Ohhh California.  Arnold Schwarzenegger!! (said in the exact voice you are thinking right now and typically accompanied by a flexing of muscles.)
Me: Uhhh yeah. . .Arnold Schwarzenegger.  *awkward smile*

This whole thing took me so off guard the first couple of times it happened,  but honestly it became a weekly occurrence.  To the point where the interaction was more like:

Cab driver: Hi. Where are you from?
Me: Hey there. California.
Cab Driver: Ohhh California.
Me: 3. . 2. . 1. .
Cab Driver: Arnold Schwarzenegger
Me: Yup. Exactly. Arnold Schwarzenegger.

So that’s it.  People really do love Americans.  Trust me they do!  We are generally a friendly, smiley group.  We are great tippers (and this is not common place in many other countries.) AND, for the love of all that’s good,  we have Arnold Schwarzenegger.

I was in Spanish-speaking countries for nearly all of my first 3 months abroad.  Spain, Chile, Argentina.  Although I have had nearly 4 years of formal Spanish classes and have lived in San Diego for 7 years (bordering Tijuana,) nothing truly bridges the gap like being put in a situation where you are  forced to use another language to communicate.  My Spanish has significantly improved but I still have so far to go.

There is an interesting mindset in my family, among my siblings and myself, that we are horrible at second languages.  Each one of us has convinced ourselves that we just can’t learn a foreign tongue.  If these first three months taught me anything, it was that I can indeed learn another language.

In all my practicing, I found taxi drivers to be my niche audience for speaking Spanish.  They weren’t going anywhere.  I wasn’t going anywhere. It was perfect.  Plus most cab drives are like mini tour guides. They were proud of their city and were more than willing to rattle on and on, while I intently translated in the backseat. They typically had questions for me too:  Where was I from? Why am I traveling? What was my favorite part of the country?  This gave me ample opportunity to practice speaking in a low pressure environment.

One of the best pieces of advice I received from a friend in regards to learning Spanish was “Take it slow and use the words you know.”  AKA: don’t let myself get hung up on the fact that I may not have the exact vocabulary I need in any given moment.  This is exactly what I did. I used the words I knew even if I sounded like a complete fool. I made many mistakes.  At times totally cringe worthy mistakes.

One day, I was on a tour where we were wearing these heavy waterproof suits.  After putting mine on I yelled “Yo estoy caliente!! Yo estoy caliente!!”  I kept saying this until a kind woman informed me that the correct usage would be “Yo tengo calor.” By using ‘caliente’ I was essentially screaming “I’m so hot! I’m so sexy!”

Yikes.

Another point, I couldn’t think of the word to use for “to go” or “take away.” My friends and I were taking food back to the hotel for our friend who stayed behind. I knew the phrase was ‘para llavar’ but for whatever reason the waiter couldn’t understand what I was trying to convey.  Finally, I said to him in Spanish ‘My friend here would like to eat one hamburger in your restaurant and one hamburger in her house.”  ‘Ohhh para llavar!” the waiter exclaim.  YES!  PARA LLAVAR! It was probably the most round about way to get my message across but ultimately it worked and that’s all that really matters.

The last time that really stands out was when I was chatting with the front desk staff at a hotel. The word for ‘a drink’ is tomar, the word ‘to drink’ is beber and the word ‘to touch’ is tocar.  After a long bus ride one day I was checking into my hotel and asked the man “puedo tocar el agua en mi habitacion?”- “can I touch the water in my room?” I obviously meant “can I drink the water in my room?” I was thinking ‘tomar’ instead of ‘beber’ but said ‘tocar.’ He looked at me confused and said “Uhhh si. . .”  It wasn’t until I was up in my room that I realized my error and what I had said!

The whole experience has made me sympathize with the students I worked with on a daily basis (well, when I am working on a daily basis and not taking a year’s sabbatical.) These students have language problems for various reasons.  As a speech language pathologist I feel like I have a fairly solid grasp on the English language. I can say what I want to say when I want to say it.  To be put in situations where it is difficult to communicate can be so frustrating.

Instead of getting totally frustrated, I checked my ego at the door and talked away.

I’m not going to lie.  When Jackie. Jamie and Carly left I was pretty bummed.  Sure, I set out on the trip knowing that I would be traveling alone for many parts of it but by that point I had gotten spoiled.  For the past 5 weeks I had not been alone.  I was first with my parents in Italy then my friends in Argentina.

There are definite pros and cons to traveling by myself.  Traveling alone means doing whatever I want, whenever I want.  But it also means being solely responsible for planning everything and making all the decisions.  Even the small things can seem more tedious when on my own.  If I am at a random bus/train station alone there is no one to look after my things.  Can anyone watch my luggage while this lady runs to the loo? Anyone? Anyone? Instead I have to drag the thing in the stall with me.  Things can just be easier in a group or with a travel partner.

However, when I am alone I am often more reflective.  More time to think, process and daydream.  Less talking, more thinking.  But being in a group can be more lively.  Experiencing events with friends gives me the ability to recount those memories days, weeks, months, years later.  Other perspectives influence my own thoughts on the same situation.

I spent a couple of more days in Puerto Madryn then took an 12 hour overnight bus to Bariloche.  The bus ride was quite comfortable with reclining chairs, but the food left something to be desired.

San Carlos de Bariloche is a little town located at the foothills on the Andes by the Nahuel Huapi Lake.  This region is considered Argentina’s lake district with many tourists taking boats to cross over in Chile.  The town has a Swiss Alps feel to it.  There are tons of delicious chocolate shops all over the place and the streets are lined with quaint stores.

On the first day I took a boat trip to Victoria Island. I met other solo travelers along the way.  We fed seagulls, hike the island and ate way too many dulce de leche treats.

On day two I took a bus about 18km outside of the town to a place called Cerro Campanario.  I rode a chair lift to the top of the mountain where there is a panoramic view of the 7 lakes and mountains. I loved San Carlos de Bariloche and would recommend it to anyone visiting Patagonia.  It was a perfect little town.