After months of (non) preparation and thinking about today, it finally arrived... and with it, my first interaction with an Argentine-who happened to be Chilean. Rodrigo is in his late 60´s, if I were to guess, and moved here from Santiago after the coup in 1973 that left democratically-elected Socialist president Allende dead (thanks Nixon/Ford!) and instated the lovely Pinochet (thanks, CIA!). Rodrigo had quite a few things to say on this topic, which would have been quite interesting if I could have understood more than 30% of his diatribe. Instead, I found myself "mm-hmm-ing" and nodding through a majority of his speech, and when he finished it with a hearty "Viva Argentina!" I was roused enough from my half-slumber to respond "Que viva!" and then realize that it was most likely a sarcastic exclamation. So ... read more

They say that getting sick or injured while traveling is inevitable, and I am not one to argue. I have seen the evidence of it. Consider please, kind reader, the following: 1.) While on a mission trip in Costa Rica, my mother fell in a pothole and had to have stiches above her eye. (Strike one against karma?) 2.) When I was a child the family decided to have a reunion in Florida. Being from Oklahoma, the beach was a huge deal. After driving the requisite 20 hours plus to arrive to the beach, I stepped out of the van and stubbed my toe so violently that it was left raw and unable to enter any kind of salty water for the entire week. 3.) For every time I have visited/lived in Latin America, there has ... read more

To a mosquito, I have always been the holy grail, the Mecca, the Wailing Wall. To a mosquito, taking a chunk of my forearm or calf is akin to the feeling one gets upon scaling their first mountain, puckering up for the first time, or meeting their red-haired piano-playing idol. If two mosquitos were having a conversation, one would most likely say to the other: "She's the cat's meow." Mosquitos love antiquated idioms. Upon my arrival in Guadalajara, the mosquitos had a giant fiesta. This is Mexico afterall, so they threw their sombrero'd heads back in hearty guffaws as shots of tequila were passed 'round and female mosquitos were grabbed by their mosquito waists and pulled tight to dance to the tunes played by talented mosquito mariachis. Against my wishes, and without an RSVP, I attended ... read more

The intensely bright blue walls greeted us even before we had reached Calle Londres. Strolling through the side streets of Coyoacan this morning searching for her house was sort of like a grown-up version of ¨I spy.¨ Anything even attempting to be that vivid color would cause a quick sideways glance and the open-ended question of ¨Is that it?¨ When I finally came upon it, however, I knew right away. There is no questioning, or comparing, with the former house of Frida Kahlo. When I planned this trip I knew right away that I had to see this place that I had been picturing in my head for so long. Frida was not about to let me down- upon entering those blue walls I felt a sense of calm welcome. The blue contrasts perfectly with the ... read more

Hello all and welcome back! To those of you who followed the Ghana chronicles, I hope I can continue to delight and entertain. For any newbies to the blog, a hearty welcome. As some of you might know, I am headed to Mexico this coming Sunday for six weeks in a country that I feel I already know by heart. For the first week I will be seeing the sights of DF (Mexico City, for the layman among us) with two girlfriends from Elon, Becca and Kara. We shall hike up ruins! Traverse cobblestone streets! Step over the threshold of Frida Kahlo's blue house and marvel at her genius! For the final five weeks, I will continue on alone to attend la Universidad de Guadalajara and live with what I can only assume will be a ... read more