"La gente esta mirando yo!!!"

There are so many things I want to say to you all, and yet so little time to say them, given that I work between 10-12 hours a day and I don`t have a computer. So the quality and quantity of these blog posts may decline significantly in the next few weeks/months while I deal with my little computer issue, but I will try my best to keep you all up to date.

About the pictures I just put up— Needless to say, my hiking trip this weekend was absolutely incredible. Late last Thursday night I decided to skip out on an optional Friday morning meeting, opting instead to wake up at 6AM to leave for Merida. The weekend before last Zach went hiking at La Sierra de la Culata National Park to scout out potential hiking trips. He decided this park would make for a lovely hiking trip, and it also happens to be one of the only national parks outside of Merida where you are not required to have a guide to go backcountry camping.

So I rolled out of bed on Friday morning, excited and sleepy, and went solo down to the terminal. I waited a short while, took my somewhat uncomfortable spot in a crowded car that smelled strongly of gasoline and artificial air fresheners, and we were off. Even though I have now experienced the ride between Valera and Merida four times, I still think it is spectacular. It was different this time, though, given that I wasn’t concerned about capturing images to send home. I noticed that the views change each time you travel the route, mostly because different peaks are obscured by clouds each time. A simple hill may be visible on one trip, but on another trip, in the same place you might see enormous craggy mountains dusted with snow directly behind that hill that you thought stood alone.

The trip went quickly, somewhat uneventful. As usual, I was shocked by things I saw, like a sheep dangling from its hind legs along the side of the road, or the man carrying an enormous, bloody cow carcass on his back. I was amused by things, like seeing the acronym F.A.R.T. spray painted in five-foot-tall letters on the side of buildings. As usual, I hung on for dear life throughout the majority of the trip, as we took turns so hard that the dashboard upholstery slid off the dashboard. I stared out the window in awe of the mountains, noticing that in this country houses, like flowers, can be any shade of any color of the rainbow. We stopped for a short break, where a nun appeared out of nowhere and offered me some toilet paper. I was strangely touched by the gesture. Back in the car, I noticed people in the taxi take interest in me. I put on my ipod, thinking that, “today, I just don`t want to be interesting to anyone….”

In Valera, Zach and I immediately got down to business. We had to find me a sleeping bag. The word around town was that a man named Manuel had a business downtown where he rented camping gear. “Cheap rentals, steep deposits,” they had said. While waiting for Manuel, we stumbled upon an enormous graveyard. We walked through it, admiring the large, elevated tombs adorned with nylon flowers. We speculated about the ages of the tombs, how they had been placed together in such a tightly woven maze. The graveyards here are eerily beautiful, seas of catholic symbols and weathered stone crosses. Most graves are elevated at least a few feet above the ground, with headstones no shorter than chest height. There appears to be no order to how graves are placed, nor any clear indication of how old the graves might be.

We finally tracked down Manuel, I rented a sleeping bag for slightly less than $2 a day, and we went to go stock up on supplies. We spoiled ourselves, buying fresh strawberries, avocados, star fruit, dried apricots, almonds, candied peanuts, fresh breads, Chilean wine, fresh cheese and fine Venezuelan chocolate. The next day we woke up early, and took a bus to the entrance of the park. The hike was almost completely straight up, some parts like stairs, others more gradual, but it was absolutely stunning. The first hour or two were nice, but the hike started to become really incredible when we arrived at our first peak, to overlook the deep valleys below.
The majority of the mountainous land in this area is fairly arid, almost desert-like, but here there were verdant valleys interspersed throughout the arid land. The dirt in these river valleys was some of the darkest I think I have ever seen, and the ground blossomed with various flowers, mostly yellow, pink, and purple. The first of these valleys we saw was so impressive that we stopped to take a photo. Suddenly we heard, “La gente esta mirando yo!!!” (The people are looking at me!!!) only to see a naked man frolicking through the stream, attempting to make himself decent. We laughed and continued on.

We continued upwards. Up, up, and more up. We were exhausted, and it started raining, a gentle, cool rain. Zach loaned me his rain pants, a gesture that will definitely not be forgotten. We arrived at another pass, to look down upon yet another verdant valley, this one filled with cows and clouds, and a refugio (shelter). We walked on, crossed the river, reaching for each others` hands so we didn`t trip on the slippery rocks into the frigid water. As the weather cleared up, we were shocked by the view that was revealed. Behind the beautiful rolling mountains that we could see immediately in front of us were enormous peaks, towering far, far above the hills we had been admiring. The peaks of the mountains were craggy, impossibly vertical.

We went to bed early, after eating spaghetti with our fingers (we forgot forks). The full moon was a mixed blessing, beautiful, but it prevented us from taking full advantage of the star chart that I had brought. Another trip, I thought. Because there will surely be more.

When we woke up the next morning, my body was like an enormous shivering ice cube. I was joking that I wondered if there was frost outside, only to realize about a half an hour later that there really was frost on everything. We were up and gone by about 6:30. Frost… In Venezuela… still weird. We warmed up quickly once we got moving, and were soon down to a single layer. We walked out in about half the time it took us to walk there. The trip back to Valera was quiet again, uneventful, and yet unbelievably stunning at the same time.

On another note, it is odd to imagine all that is happening in the US while I am here. I have been here for almost 2 months now, but it really doesn`t seem like it. I know that it is now starting to be winter in Minnesota, that many things have changed at home in the last few months, and that I am missing important events that pass without me even knowing.

I was particularly peeved about missing Halloween, given that it is one of my favorite holidays. Knowing that I would miss it, I decided to throw Halloween parties in the American Corner for my classes at the university (I have two classes now, a class of level 2 English students, and a class of children that are mostly kids of people who work at the university). I dressed up like a black cat, to the enjoyment of basically the entire university, and everyone brought treats in to share. Some students dressed up, but very few. Most students brought candy, but a lot of them brought tequeños, which are something like mozzarella sticks. Very delicious.

My students read about the history of Halloween (I learned a lot). We listened to scary stories, attempted to watch the Michael Jackson Thriller video…. And then they asked me to rap for them in English. I don`t know why I obliged in this moment, but for some reason the rap from the King Burger YouTube video came to me in full force, and I embraced the moment… rapping for them… eating candy and cheese sticks, dressed like a cat in a room with walls painted like American flags, a life-sized cutout of Obama watching me as I shared the best of American culture with these unsuspecting Venezuelan university students. “Now this is what the Fulbright is really about,” I thought….