Two years ago, I stood in the Schiphol airport hugging my best friend goodbye and creating quite a scene- especially in the eyes of the reserved Dutch. My bittersweet goodbye to Holland (and Europe) was coupled with a resolve to return- fellow travelers know all too well that travel is an addiction. I've peppered my few years since my time abroad with a few short trips- a guest performance in the Caribbean, a few shows in New York, a workshop in DC, a visit to Sin City and the Grand Canyon, and lots of short trips around the Midwest.
But it is time to get out the passport again, pack my life into a backpack, and venture into new places. This time I will be joined by my boyfriend Jordan, and we plan to connect to local people through CouchSurfing.
Now, if this is your first time hearing of CouchSurfing the idea could appear dubious. Yes, we will be meeting up in foreign countries with complete strangers who will bring us into their homes. Yes, there will likely be a language barrier. And yes, there are no guarantees we will get along, or that they won't smoke on the couch you are sleeping on, or they won't have a mean cat, or that you may be subjected to sleeping on a pile of blankets on the floor. But my past experiences as both a host and as a traveler have confirmed for me that when we open ourselves to new experiences, to different perspectives, and to alternate ways of living, the outcome is only ever positive. Our Midwestern American culture is one steeped in fear and a general distrust of people- especially those of a different religious, cultural, or class background. This is why CouchSurfing isn't just a way for us to stay for cheap during our travels- it is a way for us to actually know a place. It is a way for us to connect with people, more than just see sites. I'm going to see the Eiffel tower in a few weeks. I'm going to take photos of La Sagrada Familia, and pay to get into museums to see art. But these are experiences that can be simulated from the comfort of my home (and with the help of a TV or computer). What I'm more excited about is drinking wine with a French host in Paris, and walking around a medina with a host in Rabat. I'm excited about struggling to piece together French sentences, talking about European politics, and learning how to cook local dishes. I'm excited to make real connections with real people, and figure out a little better how we all fit together in this world.
Keep checking back for updates from Jordan and I as we travel. Our itinerary-
Arrive in London June 13...then a long stay in Edinburgh with my best friend, haggis, and castles...
Paris for several nights, then to Nimes.
Barcelona, a train ride to Tangier Morocco, then Asilah, Rabat, Fez.
Back to Spain for Madrid and Bilbao.
(Return to Des Moines July 12)
People say "you are only young once" and "this is the time to do it" and that they will be living vicariously through us... I hereby grant you full permission to do so.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Easy Greens
Looking for an easy way to get dark leafy vegetables into your diet? The answer is Kale Chips!
Don't get duped into spending $3 on a small bag of them at Whole Foods- make your own following this simple recipe:
-Heat oven to 425 f
-Tear washed and dried kale leaves into chip-size bites.
-Spread on a cookie sheet, drizzle with olive oil and mix around so each leaf has a bit of oil.
-Sprinkle with Lawry's seasoning salt, or regular salt, garlic salt, paprika, or any other seasoning salt.
-Bake for 10 minutes or so until the edges of the leaves are dark and crispy. The chips will be done when they are crisp.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Why do I dance?
Why do I dance? Because it is a challenge. Because I will never be perfect at it. It is the unexpected that keeps drawing me back to it. The questions, the ambiguity. It is the power of the creative process. It demands so much of you, but you are so deeply intertwined that unraveling a part of yourself would cause your spirit to wither.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Window Views
Iowa City, Iowa. Apartment.
A busy street with large American cars rushing by. College students walking by at all hours.
Johnston, Iowa. Bedroom.
A dense tangle of trees that expands into a forest. A broken garden swing, a grill, and a deck with a table, chairs, and umbrella. A family seated around the table. Birds, deer, turkeys.
Leiden, Holland. Room.
A brick wall with a vine, bushes, and trees that are a haven for seagulls. A large expanse of sky, and the smell of the sea that rides the breeze.
Rome, Italy. Window in the Capitoline Museum.
Intense sun beats down on the sand colored domes of an ancient city.
New York City. Room on the upper west side.
A drab brick high rise stands four feet from the window. A pigeon sits on the air conditioner unit. Glimpses of sunlight shine on the filthy pavement below.
A busy street with large American cars rushing by. College students walking by at all hours.
Johnston, Iowa. Bedroom.
A dense tangle of trees that expands into a forest. A broken garden swing, a grill, and a deck with a table, chairs, and umbrella. A family seated around the table. Birds, deer, turkeys.
Leiden, Holland. Room.
A brick wall with a vine, bushes, and trees that are a haven for seagulls. A large expanse of sky, and the smell of the sea that rides the breeze.
Rome, Italy. Window in the Capitoline Museum.
Intense sun beats down on the sand colored domes of an ancient city.
New York City. Room on the upper west side.
A drab brick high rise stands four feet from the window. A pigeon sits on the air conditioner unit. Glimpses of sunlight shine on the filthy pavement below.
Back to...
Written en route to the states, July 21st
I will soon be back in the land of friendly, confident, gum-chewing, PB&J eating, pony-tailed people. Where the portions are large and the cars larger. Where the customer is number one, and there is water waiting for you on the table at a restaurant. Of patriotic, proud people who race form one appointment to the next.
To Iowa, where the heat is stifling, the corn is ripe, and the farmer's market is in peak season. Where the ice-cream shop is the place to be on a Friday night, and where there are competitions for growing the largest squash or most beautiful tomato. Where the highway extends through rolling hills and small towns. Where the people are quick to smile, and quick to offer you a hand. To spacious Midwestern homes with mailboxes lining the street. Where deer threaten cars and mosquitoes are a menace.
To home, where there are baked goods always in the kitchen, coffee brewing, and the smell of pork chops emanates from the backyard grill. Where I can step outside and go for a hike, and where owls lull you to sleep. Where the night sky is littered with stars. Where biking is out of the question, because there are no shoulders or sidewalks. Where books line the shelves, beckoning to be read.
To my family who is a treasure. To discussions at dinner, cooking together, and chats around the bonfire. To late night astronomy lessons, and hikes in the woods.
Home.
I will soon be back in the land of friendly, confident, gum-chewing, PB&J eating, pony-tailed people. Where the portions are large and the cars larger. Where the customer is number one, and there is water waiting for you on the table at a restaurant. Of patriotic, proud people who race form one appointment to the next.
To Iowa, where the heat is stifling, the corn is ripe, and the farmer's market is in peak season. Where the ice-cream shop is the place to be on a Friday night, and where there are competitions for growing the largest squash or most beautiful tomato. Where the highway extends through rolling hills and small towns. Where the people are quick to smile, and quick to offer you a hand. To spacious Midwestern homes with mailboxes lining the street. Where deer threaten cars and mosquitoes are a menace.
To home, where there are baked goods always in the kitchen, coffee brewing, and the smell of pork chops emanates from the backyard grill. Where I can step outside and go for a hike, and where owls lull you to sleep. Where the night sky is littered with stars. Where biking is out of the question, because there are no shoulders or sidewalks. Where books line the shelves, beckoning to be read.
To my family who is a treasure. To discussions at dinner, cooking together, and chats around the bonfire. To late night astronomy lessons, and hikes in the woods.
Home.
Excerpt
An excerpt from my journal, written as I flew from Holland back to the States:
"Leiden is over. I've tried to extend my stay as long as possible. I love the city, but not for the place or culture as much as the people I met who made it so special. I will miss the sunshine in my room in the mornings, waking up to the sound of seagulls, biking around, and drinking coffee on canal-side cafes..."
"Leiden is over. I've tried to extend my stay as long as possible. I love the city, but not for the place or culture as much as the people I met who made it so special. I will miss the sunshine in my room in the mornings, waking up to the sound of seagulls, biking around, and drinking coffee on canal-side cafes..."
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)