Música, compa!

Ay dios mio..... that's all I could say after a 2-hours bus ride from a busy metropolis Maracay to a small coastal town Puerto Colombia through Venezuela's oldest national park, Parque Nacional Henri Pittier.

Ok, imagine. Maracay, quite big and busy typical Venezuelan city. After a lazy afternoon at the college pool where our host works we were picked up by another local couchsurfer to go a la playa.

We waited for a good hour for a bus at the chaotic, no-rules-whatsoever bus terminal that was supposed to arrive at some point and take us to Puerto Colombia. We were lucky; hippie looking bus with a sign 'Regalame una noche' arrived. And then there was a ride..

Bus goes through Parque Nacional Henri Pittier; paved road goes up the hill (1830m)...one way road and the darkest darkness. Friday night; bus is full and there are people standing. We barely drove off from Maracay when people start drinking. Venezuelan rum I believe. From the bottles. "Música, compa!" - we heard from the back of the bus. And that's when the fun began. Aventura, Calle 13, Tego Calderon and some other famous Venezuelan reggaeton and salsa bands. That IS fun you would think. But wait for the rum to kick in their bloodstreams. The whole bus was singing along every song. Standing people were even dancing. Add to  that a gorgeous view of night Maracay from the bus window and the winding curved road. Such a bus ride..

/January 13, 2012/

Caraqueños de Caracas

I've met only the sweetest people ever so far. At the airport, on the buses, in the hospital (where I got free Yellow Fever shot). Somehow they don't understand my broken Spanish (I wonder why), but they all think I do understand them though. Also I noticed that I talk Rusospanglish...or Sparusish...or Englishspasian...lol. Well, it's really just a mess in my head right now.

They also truly happy to know that soy Rusa, but they truly can't understand why in the world I came to Venezuela. "You either need to speak Spanish or to be strong and be able to defence yourself", told me a lovely lady who helped me to find el metro. And when I told her that I like those colorful houses on the top of the hill (el barrios), she said nothing, but I could read "Are you f-n' kidding me?!" in her eyes.

Caraqueños are beautiful.... very good looking and pleasant to look at. Especially señoritas. Oh my...stunning beauty queens with slightly choco skin, shiny hair and charming smile. They are not overweighted, they are with curves. Tiny waists and legit curves. Do I glance back? Yes. Do I lust? .... Oh lucky you, Venezuelan men. And since I've already been to a couple of cities in Venezuela I can be sure - my eyes will be pleased everywhere in Venezuela.

[insert here a picture of any Beauty Queen produced by Venezuela]

What else makes Caracas? Pollution. Terrible suffocated pollution. Yes, Venezuela sells gas cheaper than the freaking water (for $1 you get 70litres of gas or 1litre of water :O), but c'mon there is no air to breathe! After  the second day in Caracas I could feel my lungs filled with all that exhaust gas. Plus Caracas is not pedestrian-friendly at all. So in Caracas you either die from the gas poisoning or by a mototaxi running you over when you're crossing the road by a pedestrian crossing with a green light for you.

/January 11-12, 2012/

4 transfers? Yes, please.

Such a day...the longest flight commute I have ever taken: NYC - Atlanta - Aruba - Curacao - Caracas. 4 flights for only getting to Caracas. And 2 of them were badly delayed. And guess which ones? Right; the ones departing from Aruba and Curacao. I smiled unintentionally when I realized it, remembering that I have been told so many times that everything is slow and late in Latin America. When a guy in the check-in line asked a lady who works in the airport if it is fine that the registration time is over and that the plane leaves in 30 minutes and that there are still like 30-40 people in front of him in the line, the lady just told him that "its okaaaaay, the plane leaves whenever everybody finishes" =O Just like they say here in Caracas...they test your patience. And looks like no one ever in rush for anything.

After seeing such a stunning sunset trough the plane's window...

...I had been both cheered up and disappointed.

Two lovely señoritas at the customs were so happy to know that soy de Rusia and that estaré viajarlo por Venezuela para tres semanas that they told me after that I should definitely pruebe las arepas =)

But after getting to my host's home I couldn't find a nice metal water bottle that I stupidly stuffed last minute into the side pocket of my backpack that I checked-in in Aruba =( The world responses to our actions...if you act stupid you will get what you deserve.

/January 10, 2012/

On the Road again!

So here I am again…a pregnant hamster on the road. One backpack on my back, another one in front…for balance. 22lb behind, 11lb in front….almost one third of my weight. That’s right; my current weight of January 9th is exactly 99lb. As it might sound terrified to some people out there who beg the scale to show the little number, I’m gonna beg the empanadas, the arepas and the pao de queijo to do the opposite trick.

I'll tell you something. Packing skills do magic, kids. Not like real magic-magic…like Hermione with her magic handbag, but normal human being packing skills. Oh, and by the way, I adore Amazon.com. I didn’t have to go through this torture of shopping for most needed essentials for the trip. Have you ever packed for a 6-months worth of trip?.. My little pumpkin-colored 45L backpack is stuffed…seriously stuffed. I already regretted million times taking so much crap with me, but God bless my shoulders and my legs.

"Why the hell Latin America?"

"Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers. The mind can never break off from the journey." – Pat Conroy

It was the end of January 2010 when the plane landed in the freezing cold Irkutsk taking me away from my blistering hot 2-month-long South East Asian adventure. And since then, just like Pat said, my mind could never break off from the journey.

The dream of 'Cruzando las Americas por la Tierra' has been sitting deep inside in my little head for such a long time. Since probably I stepped for the first time back in 2008 on the great land of Estados Unidos and got to hear alive, for the first time also, this mellifluous language called Español. After returning back to Mother Russia I studied Spanish for a good 6 months and was overwhelmed by the fact that I could actually speak it. But sadly the children' rhyme about Abuela y su Camello is all I can remember now by heart. The rest is buried somewhere deep inside the left hemisphere of my brain. So that's one of the answers to a "Why Latin America?". I want to speak Spanish, not to translate it from English/Russian, but talk in it.

Have you seen pictures of a flat-top mountain Roraima in Venezuela? Or sand dunes of Lençóis Maranhenses National Park in Brazil? Or el Perito Moreno glacier in Los Glaciares National Park in Argentina? Or clouds reflected in the Salar de Uyuni lake in Bolivia? Or sunrise in Torres del Paine National Park in Chile? Of trails around Huayhuash mountains in Peru? Or trekking to Ciudad Perdida in Colombia? Not to mention Amazon jungle with its wildlife and many other breath-taking natural wonders that are out there waiting for you?! That's another answer to a "Why?" question.

Indigenous cultural diversity of Latin American population with many ethnic groups… that just says everything for itself. I want to be among those people and to see their lives. Yet another reason.

I’m not doing this trip just because I want to travel somewhere. Here it's specifically my willing to explore [and preferably conquer] the Latin American continent.

PS: oh who am I kidding?!…The one and only reason is THIS.