Oahu, Hawaii

Denia, Spain

The Value of Kindness & a Smile

When I was a kid, my mom instilled in me the value of a smile. She’d say a smile could change someone’s day from bad to good. A smile could get the door opened for you literally or, in an interview, figuratively. My mom said a smile was powerful and when paired up with kindness, amazing things could transpire.

I teach these same principles to our children today. Try your best to be kind. Childhood has its rough times with jealousy, bullying, peer pressure, and more. Don’t let one bully teach you how to bully everyone else. Instead, remain kind to those whom haven’t lost the privilege. Think to yourself and ask if you haven’t offended the individual. If you have, it will take courage to admit it and apologize, if you haven’t, have compassion and hold it within you, for the bully or individual. We never know what is going on in their lives. 

Smile and people are willing to offer an extra inch or more of themselves.  As for kindness, lend an ear, and take the time to talk to someone, no matter what your age difference is with them.  People feel good when you offer them your undivided attention. Simply by being there, and listening, you’d be surprised at what you learn. 

I believe I’ve followed my mother’s philosophy often. Many people I have come to know to believe that I’m soft and naïve. It’s not true. I am strong. The smile isn't a sign of weakness. I am simply choosing to keep everything else I feel between me, my pen and my journal.

June 6, 2011

An absolutely gorgeous day today in Bogota, Colombia. The morning began without a cloud in the sky and remained, for the most part, sunny for the rest of the day. It's been month after month of 'La Niña' giving us rain and clouds with everyone wondering when we'd see the sun again. When will 'La Niña' move on?

Considering we're 8,000+ feet above sea level, the temperature and seasons remain consistent throughout the year. Temperatures remain in the mid-60s, give or take, during the day and when the sun is gone, it feels much colder, but when the sun shines its rays envelope you with warmth and color your cheeks red. Normally, the saying goes that if there's sun in the morning, then there will be clouds and rain in the afternoon and vice versa. Wear layers, because when the sun does decide to show itself, a tan isn't what one receives here. You're more likely to get an immediate burn. Yahoo!'s weather had the UV index at a 13 yesterday and it wasn't as sunny as today!

Today was a big deal with the sun and therefore, had me motivated. I weeded our small patio garden, replanted the rosemary bush, swept the patios. I baked some goodies for our girls and, basically, promised myself to stay motivated.

At one point, I sat outside deciding it was time to take in some sun. That lasted about a minute before the clouds took over. Above I watched a layer of dark thick gray clouds move west as they blanketed the fluffy white clouds above them. The two did a tango of twisting and turning until the white clouds had no choice but to submit to the gray ones. The light blue circle of sky was swallowed up. If these clouds had looked more ominous, it would've brought me back to our time in Kansas when the threat of tornado was approaching our area. Those were some amazing sights.

Our one daughter had her second birthday party of the weekend. Both parties began in the mid morning around ten and eleven o'clock. Unlike my experiences in the U.S., there was no ending time for when to pick up your child. So, I usually ask. On both these occasions, and in the past as well, I've been told pick up is fine between five and six o'clock that evening. Initially, I'd come on time to pick our daughter up and always be the first, but these two days I waited an extra ten minutes after the time I was told to pick her up and she still was the first one to be picked up. Although, I have heard American parents tell me Colombian parents always come late, long after the said pick up time, to retrieve their children.

Well, I'm hoping 'La Niña' has decided to move on and the continual day after day rains will stop. It's nice to see the sun, feel it kiss your cheeks, and share a coffee with it too.

Ecuador - A Journalist's Tail

I settled in a hotel, right smack in the middle of Guayaquil, Ecuador. Here, in this town, I knew I could definitely find something to write about. With my camera tightly wrapped around my neck, so no one could steal it, and my eyes wide open for a story, I left the hotel. As I walked out, I swore to myself the first thing that caught my attention would become the subject of my story. Well, soon enough, as I was waiting to cross the street on a corner, a light brown Chihuahua “relieved” itself on my left leg. A promise is a promise.

At first my thought was, “Nothing can come out of this.” What kind of a story will I get from an old scrawny Chihuahua? But then I thought, what better tour guide, than a street dog. Here is a dog with no name, no home, and nothing better to do, but roam the country. All right, dog, show me what I want to see!

I followed the dog for a good while before I saw something that I had never seen before. As the dog led me through, I heard the sounds of purchasers yelling for bargains as they attempted to get the most for their money. The sight was of Indians sitting next to their goods. The men were wearing white shirts and pants, leather sandals, and long braids that hung down their backs. The women wore heavy wool skirts, shirts, and ponchos. On most women between their backs and the blankets around their shoulders sat their children, helpless. As I passed among everyone and everything, I thought to myself, the strength and will power these people must have to travel from the mountains to the mainland a couple times a week for profit. I guess in their point of view, it is just a way of living. For a couple of blocks after we left I could still hear the commotion of the market.

Every street is filled with vendors sitting on corners selling fruits and vegetables, goods, and lottery tickets. Poor children are roaming the streets in their torn clothes begging for as much money as they can get, knowing a beating is waiting at home for the son who returns with the least amount of money. Shoe shine boys come by the dozen with offers to shine shoes.  All these people look so helpless, as if they know that when their day is done the money they will receive won’t even amount to a meal.

Time has gone by and from what I am beginning to see of the city now; I gather that this must be the good section. Apartments are more modern and not as much noise can be heard. Vendors are no longer sitting on street corners, but riding bike/carts full of goods. They chant within the streets summoning the people of the goods passing them by. Houses in the process of being built are constructed of bamboo sticks and then covered with cement. Windows are barred, so burglars and the poor cannot enter.

After walking awhile, a person really starts to feel the climate, the sun beating ever so hot. So, from the first vendor I saw I bought a coconut. The man cut the top of the coconut with a machete and then stuck a straw inside. I drank the sweet coconut water and gave the coconut back to the man. He then spliced it open and returned it to me.  With a chip cut from the outer layer of the coconut I scrapped the inner “meat” for food. Of course, I shared the food with my companion. This seemed to have made us better friends.

We began to walk away from the city. I then realized that my buddy was leading me into the country. 

Remembering, the bus ride to the center of town, I recalled people bringing their animals along for the ride. Surprisingly, the animals ranged anywhere from dogs to pigs to roosters. Not even considering, the thought of walking all the way through mountains to get to the next tiny farm town, I grabbed the dog, and we boarded the bus.  The ride lasted a good hour or so before the dog gave me a squirm to let know this was our stop. We were about two to three kilometers from the next town. But, I was ready for the walk. It wasn’t comfortable standing on a crowded bus for that long of time.

Aligning the streets for as far as I could see, were banana and sugar plantations. Every so often, on one side or the other, was a house made of bamboo upon bamboo stilts. In these houses lived the poor hard workers of the plantations with their families. Most families consisted of eight members. People watched us as we walked passed. The older children asked for money, as the younger children asked to play. I felt sorry for the way these people had to live. Whenever the dog would allow me, I tried to communicate with the children, in a form of play or in my utterly poor Spanish while adding hand gestures.

My legs began to feel pain, after the first kilometer and a half. I slowed down to a drag and just as I did, the Chihuahua darted towards a bamboo house, just ahead. The dog began barking hysterically, and five children came running. The dog had found its home. Coming closer the dog ran back and forth between me and the youngsters in his way of introducing us. Soon I was invited for a meal of chicken and goats milk. I savored every tasted of a fresh home cooked meal. Then I left for the hotel, so I wouldn’t have to cross through the country and city too late at night. The later, the more dangerous.

On my way back to the hotel, I thought of the bamboo house with its walls constructed of strips of bamboo halves. How in certain parts of the wall, the bamboo strips were cut shorter in order to make a window. The windows were covered with shirts or tablecloths. It was a one room home made up of a bedroom, a kitchen, and a laundry room. The bedroom portion consisted of blankets on the floor for every two children to share. The kitchen was a tub of water with dishes and clothes combined to be washed. No bathroom existed; the bathroom was any area in the plantation. Toys were made of clothing and anything else the children could find.

I may not have seen the equator line or any major historical events in Ecuador, but I did experience things that are not common in the United States. I have seen what others only read about or see on television. To experience, is a whole different concept than to dream of what something must be like. Because of what I’ve seen, I don’t seem to take as much for granted anymore. This may become the best book I may ever write. I am, now, on the plane home. I have found what I want to write about in my first book.

My Ideal Day Getaway

Living in the city can sometimes become too much for someone who grew up in the suburbs of New England. I'm used to my trees, my mountains, and my open outdoor space. The majority of my time is spent living within the city limits of Bogota with its tall buildings, tons of cars, and ever-growing population. However, when it gets to be too much for me, or better yet I have visitors, my ideal day is to head towards Guatavita; up the east mountains to the other side, and make a day out of it.

Unique Dining by Andres Carne de Res

I’ve been living in Bogota, Colombia for approximately 3 years now. It’s a great city. The people are kind and beautiful. It is surrounded by rolling dark green mountains. There’s always something going on. Oh, and its restaurants are abundant.

There are restaurants for every taste and every price range. For example, downtown in the emerald district there’s a little place that offers only one plate on its menu, but a full plate at that for the equivalent of $3, including a beverage. Teriyaki is my favorite place for sushi. Santa Costilla, in Usaquen, takes the prize for the “fall off the bone; make your mouth water” ribs. My preferred Italian cuisine is found at Luna or Café Amarti. These are just to mention a few.

Mojito