Emilita

Graveyard of Sugar, Fat and the Western Diet Day 1 After much pessimism, self-mockery, and a staunch refusal to join in the Gwenth Paltrow cult following, I have notheless decided to foray into the supreme -health-world of Dr. Joshi. That's right- 21 days of no sugar, no coffee, no fat, no wheat, no fruit (except bananas) no ketchup or jam like substances of any kind and certainly no preservatives. Did I mention no booze? Basically I will be reverting to a cave-woman existence here in the capital of all things Canadian, Ottawa. Why, OH-Why you may ask would a healthy young woman go to such extreme measures of self deprivation? Especially one with a genetically enhanced addiction to dark chocolate and anything covered in salt that goes crunch? JOSHI PROMISES MIRACLES, and not just in the ... read more

Hello again, Another unexpectedly short week has flown by here in Sau Paulo, the city of helicopters, sushi and the skyscrapers of Avenida Paulista. I had the chance to go with a group of friends to try the best sushi the city has to offer. Sitting there cross legged on the matt in the closed room with piles of decoratives, mouth watering pieces of sushi was the closest I have felt to truly being in Japan. Then on Friday evening we drove to the enormous stadium outside of town to (attempt) to get tickets for the victory samba parade. After speed-walking half an hour around the stadium to meet our friends who were negotiating some scalped tickets, we convinced the guy to accept the rest of the money in cheque. And he did! Around 2am we ... read more

Have you ever gotten onto a bus for a twelve hour journey and had no idea what World meet you at the other end? That was the fantastically freeing feeling I experienced as I sat cross-legged in my chair on top of a double decker bus, headed for somewhere called Fernandez, 800km north of Buenos Aires. This whole trip so far feels like I have been handed a giant box of candy (or dark chocolate truffles) that I can eat from endlessly without getting full. The bus terminal in Buenos Aires pretty much gave rebirth to the word bedlam. It consisted of a long, straight platform with over 50 buses lined up in a row, pulling in and out, with hundreds of passengers and wisher-well people milling about with their baggage. Over the loudspeaker bus ... read more

I have to admit, they really are not lying or exaggerating by any means when they (whoever they may be) claim that Argentinian beef is the best in the world. A few days ago on our walk home my travel buddy Gerborg and I ordered two beef el chorizos from the corner cafe-restaurant on our block and took them home. I am really glad we decided to take them home for the following reason: those two 20 ounce mouth watering charcoal grilled steaks were so delicious that I was behaving at the table like a neanderthal who hadn´t tasted cooked meat before ( I will leave the mmm mmmm hmmmmm chorus of sounds to your imagination). Gerborg was no exception, trust me, and we decided it would take some getting used to before we could control ... read more

Sitting here in my mother's lofty Petion-Ville apartment with an unbeatable view of Port-au-Prince sprawled out in the valley below, I am amazed at how the last month has flown by in a blur of Christmas holidays, beach days, impromptu dinners and work excursions to the countryside. After finishing my last undergrad class in early December I flew down to Haiti with a huge snowstorm on my heels. Since then some of the highlights were spending Christmas day at the beach with my mom and a bevy of lovely old friends, washing down grilled lobster with rum punches and catching up on eachothers lives traveling with a Save the Children team of delegates to the remote mountain village of Baie D''Orange where children were starving to death in the wake of last fall''s four succesional hurricanes. ... read more