The California desert is one of my favorite places in the world. It is an exquisite, stark, minutely-lush, harsh landscape, and I feel instantly at peace when I am there.
A week and a half ago, I was wistfully thinking: ah, it’s the very end of wildflower season now in the desert, and I haven’t been back there in years… and, after a bit of logistical back-and-forth, Ali and I decided that—why not?—we could gallop down there for a few days. And, three days later, with a car full of food and books, we headed to the desert.
In Anza Borrego, we did two fine hikes: a beautiful (albeit hot) canyon walk to one of the park’s finest palm oases, and a fascinating hike through a higher-elevation transitional zone (half-desert, half-chaparral) where there were still wildflowers in abundance. In Joshua Tree, we walked through a conifer-lined rocky canyon where cattle rustlers used to hide their illicit cow-loot. In both areas, we explored: scaling rocks, admiring spiky cacti and ocotillo, spotting tiny isolated wildflowers, and basking in the heat. It was all wonderful.
Wherever you are in your life: I hope that you make further progress in identifying the things that intrigue you, that thrill you, and that fill you with genuine delight.
Recognize when you need to be gentle with yourself. And recognize when you are being lazy or complacent. Practice the distinction between these. Hold yourself accountable for your own action (or inaction), but do so with compassion.
I hope that you kick your own butt and work towards doing the things you privately dream of. Build your own momentum. Push yourself. Realize that bravery is often no more than this.
I hope that you grow.
All my best,
(Pictured above: New Year’s Eve. Valparaíso, Chile. 2011.)
In mid-September, I spent a week in Oaxaca State in Mexico, with my noble co-adventurer Ali. It was a fantastic, fun trip in every possible way.
We spent half the time in Huatulco, a coastal region of nine bays, numerous stretches of carefully-protected jungles and beaches, a handful of upscale resort hotels, and several smaller communities. We stayed in La Crucecita, a smallish town where many of the tourism workers live, which was pleasant and friendly (and which did not feel artificial or over-touristed). Huatulco was days of seeking small adventures and wading through the hot, humid, beautiful air, followed by evenings of wandering around the town center, and nights of fruitbat-watching and night-street-overlooking from our hotel’s balcony.
Halfway through the trip, we took a rainy, winding night bus trip from Huatulco to Oaxaca de Juárez. Oaxaca is the state’s capital, an excellent place for food, arts, and culture, with veritable oodles of colonial-era architecture all throughout its historic center. As in Huatulco, we spent much of our time contentedly walking around and exploring the streets. We also did some food-ish and culture-ish things, as one must.
I haven’t the time or attention to do a day-by-day recap, so instead, I’ll just touch on the main highlights of the trip:
Things That Made Me Happy in Oaxaca:
Snorkeling and leaping about in choppy waves at Playa La Entrega, spotting hundreds of colorful fish—even one handsome wee pufferfish!
Going canyoning on the Zimatán River: a mixture of hiking through wild jungle (so many cool plants! including wild Tillandsia / air plant), jumping off & rappelling down alarmingly tall rocks, swimming through rushing rapids, and floating placidly down quieter, gentler green currents.
Visiting a coffee farm in the mountains: walking through overgrown jungly trails cut into the hillside and getting to nibble on passionfruit fresh off the vine.
Also: a surprise zipline! Surprising both because we hadn’t known there was one at the coffee farm, and because it crossed high above a deep jungle valley… a fact we did not learn until we reached a certain curve in the zipline’s path, after we were already zipping wildly through the air. Startling. But so much fun.
Meeting up with my mother’s friend Enrique (a native Oaxacan), who led us through the dense and fascinating Abastos Market. He then traveled with us to a pottery studio in San Bartolo Coyotepec, a town outside Oaxaca famous for its barro negro, or shiny black decorative pottery.
The coolest museum ever: Museo de Filatelia / Museum of Philately. A deeply engrossing museum of stamps and postal paraphernalia from all over the world. It had a great exhibit on cartophilately (stamps with maps), as well as a vault full of centuries’ worth of interesting letters and stamps. If you’re ever in Oaxaca and have the faintest interest in travel, graphic art, or happiness, you should go.
A final night in Oaxaca spent sitting on a sheltered rooftop during a gorgeous thunderstorm. Then, retiring to a small cafe which had quotes from Latin American writers painted all over its walls, listening to excellent live music and striking up mixed-language conversations with the other patrons.
Do all the things! Here’s a slideshow of many of the trip photos:
And one final comment, which didn’t fit in anywhere in the blogs, but which is very useful nonetheless: there is one marvelous bit of Dominican slang that has fully insinuated itself into my Spanish repertoire. This useful word is un chin, pronounced /tʃin/ (rhymes with “sheen”). This means “a bit /a small amount,” and is synonymous with the more common Spanish un poco. You can also say un chin chin, to mean “a teeny tiny bit.” Wikipedia tells me that the word may have been borrowed from an African language, although it does not specify which or when. A fine and handsome word.
¡Gracias por tu tiempo, y espero que te alegrara el día un chin!
My very last morning… I’m sad to leave, but it will be good to be home. Elana and I woke a little early, packed up all our things, and then headed downstairs to the hotel’s kitchen to see if they had breakfast. They put together a nice plate of mangú (mashed green plantains) and fried egg for each of us; we ate, drank several cups of coffee, and talked.
After breakfast, we wandered out into the streets of Santiago for a brief walk. The sky was beautifully cloudy, a light sprinkling of misty rain had just begun, but the air was pleasant and warm, as always. (The Spanish word for a light mist is neblina, in case you were wondering.) We poked through a few food stalls in a plaza, and glanced at a shop, but really, we were just out for the sake of being out, for the sake of getting a little more city time in before my departure.
At 11:30am, Rubén’s cousin (the same one who had rescued me from the airport after my arrival) came to pick us up in his taxi. Read More