Regis Broke Free

My brother asked me, "Is Regis coming along to Southeast Asia with you?"

Regis, anticipating the climb up Roraima, Venezuela.

Alas, I cannot escape the hard truth any longer. I've been putting it out of my mind. 

I am faced with the profound question Nelly Furtado once asked: "Why do all good things come to an end?".

Triumphant at the Summit

Regis has broken free once and for all.

Regis at Angel Falls (Venezuela), the highest waterfall in the world!

As I have said before, he has always been a free spirit. He enjoyed life on the road, and he met a lot of people and saw things many monkeys will only dream of seeing.

Day 2 of the Inca Trail, hitting the highest altitude of the trek.

He was with me as I set off on my own last December, trekked the Inca Trail, and witnessed Machu Picchu.

Going where few monkeys have gone before!

 For every journey, he was there.

Sightseeing in Cusco

At the summit of Pacha Mama, Lake Titticaca

We had our differences, I once or twice I feared that something would come between us for good. But we stuck together through the cold and damp of Peru, and the sweltering humidity of Venezeula.

Marveling over Moray

Swooning over Salineras

I even gave him a traditional Peruvian woolly hat. Because monkeys don't like to be cold.

Overlooking the lake city of Guatape, Colombia. My last photo of Regis. 

 I still have the hat. He left it behind. Just like me.

Reaching Tayrona National Park in Colombia was a turning point for us. I didn't realize it at the time. We had been on the road for a while, both tuckered out. I planned to get some serious R&R while chilling at this remote, tropical paradise. 

Perhaps this was why I failed to notice the change in him. I was too busy with my own plans and feelings. But looking back, it makes sense.

When I think of Tayrona, it is really just the ideal location for a monkey. As a National Park, it is very safe. The white sandy beach and turquoise waters are surrounded by thick jungle, filled with other monkeys. I saw a few of them...maybe it was then, while I was distracted, that he slipped away.

I know he was there when we arrived, and I remember thinking "Tomorrow I will take a photo of Regis on the beach", and brought him along on a hike through the Jungle. Unfortunately, then my camera broke, and I tucked him away in my daypack. Perhaps he saw his rellies frolicking in the treetops, and considered the warm breeze and swinging hammocks that were abundant in that wonderful place. Perhaps then he thought of how we were headed for the snow-capped mountains of Quito, and then, ultimately, the far North: Canada. 

Perhaps he weighed his options, and decided he would like to stay. 

I never saw him again. 

On my last day, as I packed my things, he was nowhere to be found. Nothing else was missing from my pack. I searched frantically through the entire beach site, even enlisting the help of a sympathetic friend. But Regis was gone. 

Eventually I had to face the facts, pack my things, and hike back without him. It felt a bit callous that he never even said goodbye, but I understand. After all, I also felt like I could stay in Tayrona forever. Its that kind of place. It was bound to happen sooner or later, and at least I know he is happy, enjoying the sort of lifestyle that suits monkeys best. 

It will be a bit lonely not to have him along as I travel SE Asia, but the blog will live on bearing the name of this inspiring free spirit. 

Goodbye Regis. Roam free. 

The Neglected Blog

Contrary to how things might appear due to this blog's neglect, I did not meet a sticky end traveling through South America on my own. Quite the opposite in fact! I had a great time! However I didn't have much access to a computer in order to post updates, and since I returned home mid-April I've been busy with family stuff, catching up with friends, and getting ready to head back up North for treeplanting season #3! 

This means spare time will be sparse over the next couple of months, and you likely won't get much in the way of writing in the near future! You can however check out my Instagram to see some of my favorite photos and moments from the past several months, and probably some planting photos as well! 

https://instagram.com/jillkc79/

Walking the Equator line at Mitad del Mundo in Quito, Ecuador

Maybe Not Quite 8 Weeks

SO! I´ve been in Santa Elena at Aldeas de Paz for just over a week now! 

I had some reservations right off the bat because the situation was not quite as advertised, ie: the founding director was not here, there were no other volunteers, and things seemed a bit disorganized, but I thought I would give it some time to see how it all worked out. 

Its not that its terrible or that I´ve hated it...but I found myself getting antsy and wondering what I´m really doing here, or if I should be spending my time elsewhere. Without any volunteers I haven´t really been able to meet new people and go exploring, and the NGO admin work I´ve been doing is pretty basic since there are no real programs running at the moment. 

I felt guilty when I thought to myself that I would rather be traveling than sitting around here at a computer, because I had committed my time to the organization and I didn´t want to be flaky and back out. But eventually I realized that I wasn´t meeting the goals I had set out for myself, and I didn´t sell my soul to the organization, so I should just do what was best for me. Its very quiet here and I¨m by myself quite a bit, and that makes me go a little mental sometimes...its not good for me. 

So I´ve decided to only spend a couple weeks here and then hit the road again! 

As soon as I made that decision, I felt so relieved and excited, so I knew it was the right thing! I didn´t realize how much I was dreading plodding through the 8 weeks I had planned on originally until I decided to leave. 

The hard part has been breaking the news to the staff here...I´m terrible with confrontation, and sometimes I´m such a people-pleaser and I don´t want to hurt anyone´s feelings that I end up backpedalling so much from what I mean that I don´t even make sense anymore. 

The two guys here have been very understanding and still want me to get as much out of the experience as I can, so I will be more involved in shadowing the manager this week I still have to hear back from the founding director, which admittedly I´m nervous about.

Meanwhile, I´m in the process of changing my flight so that I will head home from somewhere besides Caracas! Right now I´m contemplating traveling to Colombia to see Medellin and Bogota after I´ve done the two treks here in Venezeula, and then bussing down to Quito in Ecuador and possibly seeing some Amazon jungle! I´m so excited! I´ve heard so many good things about Colombia lately that I kept thinking to myself, "I´m going to have to come back for another trip to S. America", and now I am incredibly stoked to actually get to spend some time in two more countries! 

(I will still have to come back to see Bolivia, Argentina and Brazil though...traveling only makes the to-do list longer and longer!)

This will be significant for me as well, because it will be my first real solo backpacking trip! While I didn´t know anyone in Peru or Venezuela, I wasn´t really backpacking it. When you are volunteering/going to school you are kind of plugged into a specific program and centralized in one place. This time, its just me and my backpack and the open road! Kind of scary, and kind of exciting! I know my poor mother is probably terrified for my life, but everything I´ve heard and read is that these countries are very safe now, even for solo women travelers. 

So, in conclusion, I have approximately 2 more weeks here and then I´m off to see more of this beautiful continent! Wahoo!

The Long Road to Venezuela

I shouldn't be tired after 4 days of doing practically nothing but sitting on my tush looking out a windows, but As it turns out travel can be kind of exhausting. 

I got up at about 5am on Monday to catch a flight from Cusco to Lima at 7:45am. Unfortunately that flight was delayed, meaning when I arrived in Lima I was basically already late for my connecting flight to Caracas, Venezuela.  

Airports have always been an uncomfortable place for me. They bring out irrational fears, and I have long held a deep-seated phobia of missing a flight. As I stood stranded in a long, twisted queue waiting to go through security and realized I was supposed to be at my boarding gate 15 minutes ago,  I got that sinking feeling...the knowledge that I was going to have to face this fear.

After what felt like hours of waiting in lines, I burst through the last checkpoint. And scanned the departures board. My flight read "last call". I sprinted across the airport to the very farthest gate possible...which was completely deserted. Still hoping against all odds that I might be spared this tragedy, I gasped to the uniformed employee, "Am I too late?"

With a wry smile, he nodded, and my poor little heart stopped. I dropped all my bags and clutched the edge of the desk, probably looking more than a little bit insane. "What do I do now?!" 

Long story short, I was booked for a flight to Bogota, Colombia, for that evening. I spent the night curled up on some chairs beside Dunkin Donuts in the Bogota airport, wrapped in my new alpaca blanket, paranoid about somehow sleeping through the departure announcement. 

That didn't happen, and I departed Colombia in the morning (I'll be back someday for a proper visit!), and arrived in Caracas before noon, where the airport was practically empty and security and immigration was surprisingly quick and relaxed.

I had arranged to be picked up at the airport through a service recommended by the foundation I am staying with. "Peter", a friendly Swiss expat, happily answered all my questions, got me settled at a cute little oceanside hotel outside Caracas (much safer), changed money for me, and told me where I could get some food. The next day, he arranged for me to be picked up by an adorable little Venezuelan man named Luis, who bought my bus ticket and dropped me off at the station. He even bought me my first "arepa", a hot cornbread sandwich that is quite delicious! 

The bus was meant to depart at 3:45pm and run for 22 hours to Santa Elena. At this point, my expectations for timing are no longer to punctual North American standards, so I wasn't completely shocked when we finally rolled out at quarter after 6. 

I was also able to observe with mild amusement a very loud and dramatic argument between a man and woman about who had the Window seat. The woman vehemently insisted it was hers, but later on was kicked out by another man claiming it was rightfully his. Turned out the woman was on the wrong bus.

I was lucky enough to land a seat beside a German woman who has lived in Santa Elena for 30 years...she was the only other person on the bus who spoke English, which was very helpful! 

The big festival of Carneval is coming up this weekend, so a lot of people were taking huge boxes and bags of goods from Caracas to sell in the smaller towns. This meant there were some security checks along the way. At one point the driver came into the cabin and told everyone who had extra goods that they needed to pay off the national guard if they didn't want them to go through all the stuff. Bribery is just normal here! 

At another point we were all made to get off the bus, grab our bags, line up, and wait for the guards to go through all our stuff. They literally shook out every last sock and panty, but when they got to my German "mother" (as we began to joke, because everyone assumed that was the case), they just waved us away. It's the big innocent blue eyes.

At one of the last stops a guard with a huge gun burst onto the bus and demanded our IDs. I think I'm becoming desensitized, because this didn't phase me one bit when a month ago I would have been terrified. 

Honestly, I've been seeing some pretty bizarre stuff here, and hearing some crazy stories, but I haven't felt personally unsafe. 

I finally arrived in Santa Elena in the early evening, approx. 24 hours after departing Caracas. What a trip! 
Now I am happily tucked away at Foundation Aldeas de Paz, enjoying the delightful heat, mouthwatering mangos that drop from the mango tree beside the office, and my adorable little cabana (complete with reptilian roommate). 

I have so much to say, and not quite enough computer access to get it all down fast enough, so until next time...I´ll be swinging in my hammock...I mean, working...