Qué padre! - How cool!

He has the longest eyelashes I've ever seen. It's hard not to notice them as he's thrown himself down on my beach towel uninvited. We are sitting side by side with our knees touching and it's all just a little too close for comfort. In broken English, he's already asked every girl on the beach to help him with his "problem", i.e. he's bought too many beers and now needs someone to help him drink them. Poor little Mexican guy. Why he's decided not to take no for an answer from me I don't know. Maybe it's because I speak Spanish. Maybe it's because I'm traveling alone and don't mind having someone to talk to. Maybe it's because once we get past the opening line about beer, he's actually a nice guy. Apart from the fact that he wants to cheat on his girlfriend but we agree to disagree on that particular subject.

Both knees are mine

As we watch the sun set over Playa Langosta in heavenly Cancún, I share some things about my life with him and he tells me about his passion for karate and the sudden death of his mum six months ago. He also teaches me about the history of his country and explains the symbolism of the Mexican flag - red for the blood shed by his ancestors, white for peace and green for the well-being of the Mexican people. And in the middle an image of a snake being eaten by an eagle, representing what the Aztecs saw when they first arrived at the place that is today the capital. After watching this good, strong animal devour something so bad and evil, they came to the conclusion that this must be where they should settle down.

Sunset over Playa Langosta

I get up to leave and tell my new amigo that I'm certain his mum is still with him. She's in the pink sky watching over him and wanting him to be happy. His eyes water and as he leans in to hug me goodbye, he offers me some advice of his own:

Life is short, he says. Please enjoy it. Do what you want and don't worry about what anyone else thinks. We only get one life and no one else can live it for us; the choices that we make have to be our own and the only way to make them is to know what we want. 

The following day, I've booked a tour to Chichen Itza, one of the seven World Wonders. I don't sleep well the night before and wake up with awful menstrual cramps but I still choose to go. It's a painful 3-hour bus ride until we arrive in a small Mayan village, where we make a stop before continuing to the ruins. Short men dressed in white wish us Ma'lob Ja'atskab K'iin - good morning. Our guide translates as they tell us about their traditions, culture and history. They show us their beautiful handicraft and I know immediately that I want to take one of the figures made of healing stone home with me. One of the young Mayans help me pick out a statue that is supposed to bring love and then tells me that if I go around the corner, I will find a shaman that can bless it for me. 

I do as I'm told and a man half my size greets me with a toothless grin. He has never heard of Finland so he decides to call me "Elena de Ecuador" instead and then begins the ceremony by splashing me with water that smells absolutely divine. Next, he lifts up a bowl of incense and directs the smoke towards my belly while chanting in a language incomprehensible to me. Finally, he blesses my stone figure and instructs me to bring it out into the full moon light to give it the power that will heal me and my family. I want to give him a hug but it seems inappropriate so I just smile and say Dios bo'otik - thank you.

As I walk away, I notice that my period pains are completely gone. 

Chichen Itza

The rest of my holidays are filled with similar adventures but also beach life and some much needed rest. I see a crocodile one day and when I get home all excited, my Mexican host simply responds: Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you not to walk on that side of the road. Well, thanks for the heads-up. Then my amiga arrives and together we explore the magic of Tulum while ringing in the new year surrounded by new friends. We also go on bike tours, road trips, dance and eat tacos. And then I get food poisoning, just to make sure the Mexican experience has been complete.

Signs are everywhere in Tulum

Three rather unpleasant flights later, I finally get home to find that the neighbors above me have been throwing food and cigarettes onto my terrace. This in turn has attracted birds and one dove in particular has now made my little outside space her permanent home. I'm about to chase her away when, just out of curiosity, I decide to look up the meaning of this spirit animal first. To my surprise, this is what spirit-animals.com has to say: 

The dove's mission is to remind you that in order to soar, you must first move your wings and allow the wind to take you to new heights. What you see right now is reality shifting in ways you never thought possible and what you're truly looking for is just around the corner. The most chaos happens just before your dreams come true. 

After the turmoil that was 2017, I'm hoping that means 2018 will bring some peace. Maybe there's wisdom in stillness. Maybe there's peace in a decision that's been made. Maybe it's time I stopped running and started figuring out what I want. And yes, the dove can stay. She's not so bad. Although I hope she doesn't mind sharing the full moon light with my little Mexican love statue.

Tulum beach

Hippies and other stories

A couple of weeks ago, I was very excited. My friend and I had decided to go to Vilcabamba in the south of Ecuador for the holidays and we were looking forward to four days of hiking, doing yoga and relaxing by the pool. I told my friend that I could hardly believe it - for once we were going on holiday without any drama! I could almost hear the universe laughing in my face as I said it. Yeah, right. 

We had already reserved our accomodation at the beautiful Hostería Izhcayluma so all we needed were the bus tickets, which can normally be bought on the same day or sometimes one day before the actual trip. Since it was a national holiday coming up and we knew that most people would travel, my friend went to the bus station a couple days early to make sure we would have tickets. She was told to come back on Tuesday at 4:30 p.m. So on Tuesday (the day before our trip), I took the two-hour Ecovia ride to Quitumbe station, arriving there at 4 p.m. only to be informed that all tickets to all destinations had been sold out in the morning. Sigh. Welcome to Ecuador! 

Time for plan B. Neither of us had been to Ibarra, a small town about two hours from Quito so we decided to try and get there instead. Buses to Ibarra run every ten minutes and tickets can't be bought in advance. Even so, there was a three-hour wait to get on the bus when we arrived at the station on Thursday afternoon. So we ended up sharing a taxi with two other travelers, which only cost us six dollars more than the bus would have anyway.

We finally arrived in Ibarra just before sunset, happy to have a hostel reservation and Google maps to navigate the streets of La Ciudad Blanca (the white city). Unfortunately, the hostel staff had never heard of us and they had no rooms left. Sigh. Thank you booking.com! By now, it was already dark so we used the hostel's wi-fi to search for hotels online and called the first one we could find. Luckily, it was just around the corner and they offered us a double room each for only $12 per person, including a gorgeous view and soft beds with tons of blankets and pillows. As my friend put it, we spent two heavenly nights sleeping on a cloud.

The next morning, we had breakfast in Olor A Café, a cosy little coffee shop decorated like a library and playing French music. We were served a delicious torta de choclo (corn cake) and as we were leaving, the staff gave us beautifully wrapped meringues and wished us a lovely day. We later learned that this is the most romantic spot in town; it's a popular place for proposals and many anniversaries have been celebrated here.

Feeling energized after our hearty breakfast, we took the local bus to nearby La Esperanza, a small community at the foot of volcano Imbabura. Once there, we knocked on the first door we could find to ask for directions. By chance, we had arrived at Casa Aida, owned by a charming old lady in her eighties (we're guessing). Aida immediately invited us in, asked us to sit down and brought out her guestbooks along with some of her homemade marmalade. The dogs fell asleep on the floor next to us as she told us the story about how once upon a time, the hippies had made it all possible.

Aida and her many stories

Over forty years ago, Aida was a poor woman. She had three kids but no money. Her house was dirty and didn't even have a bathroom. One day, two Italian hippies knocked on her door. They told her that no one wanted to take them in, their hippie clothes and long hair made everyone think they were thieves. Aida generously offered them to stay in her humble quarters. They thanked her for her hospitality and left the next day. Two weeks later, 35 hippies knocked on Aida's door. The hippies ended up staying for months, paying Aida more money than even the wealthiest people in Ecuador earned at the time. With this money, she built her hostel and if the stories in the guestbooks are anything to go by, it has been a great success. People who visited forty years ago continue to return, some even with children named after Aida! An incredible woman who showed kindness to two strangers who turned out to be wealthy foreigners. Also, believe it or not, one of the hippies that came later was, in fact, Bob Dylan!

Outside Casa Aida

The rest of our stay was relatively uneventful, apart from receiving the news that burglars had broken into my friend's building (my previous home) on Friday night. We decided to return to Quito on Saturday, along with hundreds of other travelers. It was a stressful journey but we made it and back at the bus station, a persistent taxi driver managed to convince us to let him drive us home. Just to make conversation, I asked him how his holiday weekend was going and to my great surprise, he burst into tears. 

I'm far away from the loves of my life, he sobbed. My wife left me for another man and took our two daughters with her. 

He showed us pictures of his beautiful girls, played love songs that made him cry even more and told us about all the things he was planning to do to get his family back. We did our best to nod sympathetically and offer him some gentle advice. We've all been there and it does get better, we know that. We've been through this story a hundred times already. But for him it was a first and he hadn't even told anyone yet. I got the feeling that this meeting was about him, not us. We were the teachers in that car, in every sense of the word. He needed someone to listen and we could give him that. 

Everything happens for a reason. That's what a friend told me when I was feeling disappointed about not making it to Vilcabamba. And maybe he was right. Our first choice is not necessarily the best one. The hostel that I had reserved in Ibarra actually looked awful when we saw it up close and I would not have wanted to stay there. If the hippies hadn't been turned down so many times, they may never have arrived at Aida's house to help create a good life for her and her children. If the taxi driver hadn't picked up me and Jas, he may never have found the courage to open up and share the burden that he was carrying alone. So even when life throws us a curveball, let's trust that eventually it will lead us to the right place. 

Lessons from the children

This past month, my job has consisted of playing hide and seek, making colorful crafts, singing Itsy Bitsy Spider and using flash cards to teach words such as butterfly and pencil case to four adorable children. Well, adorable when they're not arguing, being mischievous or hugging me with muddy hands anyway. After five weeks of summer camp, the kids have certainly improved their English but at the same time, they have taught me a great deal. Other than the obvious lessons, like living in the moment and being brutally honest, here are some of the things I learned from the kids this summer: 

How to do a handstand 

Well, sort of. In the break, the kids would always run out into the garden yelling: Teacher, teacher - let's gooo! while cartwheeling down the hill. At the bottom they would pick up the hula hoops and continue their circus tricks. I've never been able to do a cartwheel or spin a hula hoop in my life but I have been working on handstands in my yoga practice so after an initial attempt to escape, I gave in and joined the kids on the grass. The idea of peacefully sipping a cup of tea while watching them play had disappeared on the first day anyway. 

At first, I was terrible. I was told to go and practice against a wall because my knees were too bent. Then, once I got that down, there was still the small matter of trying to land on my feet. The kids would slowly shake their little heads in disbelief while watching me repeatedly fall over. Teacher - you need practice, the oldest girl proclaimed with a solemn look on her face. She was absolutely right but then again, practice does make perfect. I'm proud to announce that on the last day I managed to do both a cartwheel and a handstand and I was even able to spin the hula hoop around a couple of times. Okay, so it wasn't perfect but at least the kids cheered and clapped and for some reason, looking at the world upside down makes me happy.

How to negotiate

A completed worksheet is rewarded with a small sticker. Five small stickers earns you one big sticker and if you collect five big ones, you'll receive a present at the end of the week. Not hitting your classmates and and helping to clean up means you've deserved a candy that day. Finishing the educational games with a perfect score gives you the right to play a computer game of your choice for five minutes. A promise of good behaviour can extend the break with ten minutes. Everything is negotiable. Everything is a choice.

How to win someone over with your smile

An Ecuadorian friend told me once that if I smile at him, he'll do anything I want and that's how I feel about the kids. That must be why they are so good at negotiating. Apparently, crawling up into my arms and giving me a sweet (albeit toothless) smile is how you can obtain anything from stickers to candy to longer breaks. It's also a good way to secure a permanent spot in my teacher heart.

Curious to try out this seemingly effective technique, I decided to beam brightly at the slow-moving Ecuadorians who have been working on my terrace for ages now. Their job was supposed to be finished months ago but every week a new "obstacle" seemed to appear. Now, I didn't go anywhere near their dusty arms but a simple smile turned out to be enough. Two days later I came home to find that all the tiles had been laid out and this morning I was finally able to roll out my mat and do sun salutations outside. Result!

How to not be afraid of showing affection

The youngest girl in the group jumped onto my lap already on the first day. She couldn't remember my name but she obviously had no fear whatsoever of being rejected. Every day she'd skip down the stairs two steps at a time while holding my hand and trusting that I wouldn't let her fall. The other kids took a little longer to warm up but soon enough they all started fighting over who would get to sit next to me during story time and they were also constantly hugging me and asking me to braid their hair or give them piggyback rides.

Even though I'm quite happy to go back to teaching adults next week (my back is killing me), I'm going to miss the kids and their precious smiles. We can learn so much from their fearless attitude. As adults, sometimes we don't even try because we're afraid of failure. Or perhaps there's an even greater fear that some day, we might succeed. Because when we do, we have to ask ourselves the following question: If I can accomplish this, then what's stopping me from getting what I really want? There are no more excuses. What's the worst that can happen anyway?

Searching and learning

Her hand in mine, my hand in his. Eyes closed, knees touching. Collective inhales and exhales. Vibrations. Tingling sensations. Magic moving all around the room. We have just completed an hour and a half of yoga and dancing at Flow Hot Yoga in Cumbaya and the endorphins linger in our bodies. We finish by singing OM and saluting the light in one another. Namaste. I open my eyes and look over at my friends who are glowing in the dark, sparkling even, like the rare diamonds that they are. 

Ever since I came back to Quito I've had such a craving for honesty and genuine connections. I want everything around me and inside of me to be pure and clean, which is why this seems like the perfect time to start a vegan diet. Watching the documentary What the Health has also convinced me that plant-based food is the best option that I can serve my body and so far, I feel great. I've been sort of vegetarian for a long time but I want to take it one step further and leave out all animal products. Even so, I still prefer to call myself "flexitarian" because I don't believe in too strict rules when it comes to eating. I need to be able to enjoy a bit of cheese and chocolate every now and then, otherwise life is just too sad. Also, being flexible makes things easier when you're living in a country like Ecuador where vegan options are somewhat limited. 

On this second round of my adventure, I'm also on a misson to find out who I can really trust. I'm endlessly grateful for my amazing tribe of people around the world and so excited about the new ones coming in. Unfortunately, however, this truth-seeking journey began with me finding out about a betrayal from yet another person that I thought was my friend. But maybe that's just how it goes. Maybe it's like with the light and the dark - we wouldn't be able to recognize the truth if it wasn't for the lies? 

After I heard the news, I walked away from what had once been sisterhood and friendship and made sure to carefully close the door. This, in turn, has led me to ponder some rather uncomfortable questions: Do I let people in too easily or, do I push them out too fast? Do I need to be more careful or more empathetic? Are there times when we should forgive and forget, even when we can't possibly understand? Maybe I need to learn how to exist in a garden that is growing wild, instead of trying so hard to get rid of all the weeds? 

Once again, I find myself quoting my favorite author Elizabeth Gilbert, who describes this process so much more beautifully than I ever could: 

If you're brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting and set out on a truth seeking journey, either externally or internally, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher and if you are prepared most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, the truth will not be withheld from you. 

So that's where I am right now. At end of one adventure and the start of another, or maybe somewhere in between. Always searching, always learning, always trying to do better. Thinking about all the things I didn't know a year ago and wondering where I'll be a year from now. Above all, appreciative of this ever changing world and thankful for each experience that has something valuable to teach me.

Bom Dia - Happy Day

It's winter in São Paulo. Or so the Brazilians say while they stare at me walking around in my short-sleeved shirts and little shorts. After all, blue skies and 23 degrees is not winter for a Finnish girl. It's very much summer and that means enjoying every single ray of sunshine as if it were the last.

São Paulo is a humongous city and notoriously dangerous. Naturally, I spent my first night here getting lost on the way back from the grocery store. Silly me had walked out of the hostel without a map or an address and my phone didn't work. All the streets looked the same and it was pitch dark. Nobody spoke English and nothing made sense. My legs were tired and my eyes could barely keep open due to jet lag and sleepless nights. Yet somehow, after walking around in circles for about two hours, I found my way back. Apparently, it takes getting lost somewhere along the dark streets of a foreign country to make you find that little compass of light inside yourself. And if you let it, that glimmer of hope can become something to grab and hold on to, praying that it will lead you in the right direction. 

Safe and sound at the hostel, I made myself a nice cup of tea and chatted with the staff and other guests. There is something rather spectacular about the way traveling alone makes us connect so quickly and so intensely to others. The next day, a Brazilian friend came to pick me up and when he asked for me, the receptionist responded with a cheerful: Oh yeah, I know her! As if he had always known me. As if he had always known that I was coming and that we would meet. As if our lives had somehow always been intertwined. 

A couple of days later I was strolling around on the streets of São Paulo as if they were my own. As if I had always lived there. As if my feet (and Google Maps) somehow understood where to go without too much effort. My favorite neighborhood looked like an open-air museum of art, completely covered in graffiti. If your life feels grey, Vila Madalena is the place to go and immerse yourself in color. 

Batman Square in Vila Madalena

By the way, did you know that the Brazilians clap their hands when they watch the sun go down? Every night, every sunset. There may be an applause at sunrise as well; I wouldn't know. I never managed to get up early enough to find out. 

Sunset in São Paulo

And then there was Rio. Oh, Rio. A city so radiant, so vibrant and so grandiose it deserves a post and a parade of its own. It's no wonder that this is the host of one of the seven wonders of the world. It's the city of a thousand lights and a thousand colors. Beautiful beaches, caipirinha craziness and a thousand other cliches.

On my last night in Rio, a couple of new friends invited me to come out with them but I was tired after hiking up hills to see statues and drinking too many caipirinhas on the beach so I opted for jomo - the joy of missing out. Staying at the hostel that night turned out to be a lucky decision as my friends told me later that they had been robbed. Their taxi had stopped at a traffic light when suddenly a man drove up on a motorbike, pointed a gun at them and took everything of value. Except, of course, the most valuable thing of all - their lives.

So yes, Rio is a city where you wake up and feel alive. Not safe, but alive. And that's really something.

Rio de Janeiro

Christ the Redeemer

How to be Ecuadorian

Suddenly, it's day 335 and almost a year has gone by since I first arrived in this enchanted land on the equator. I've learned a lot since then so here are some of my best tips for living and loving life in Ecuador.

NB - this post may contain portions of sarcasm. 

1. Eat a lot of rice. Have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner if you can. Half a plate is not enough, always ask for more. However, keep in mind that you must eat your rice plain - adding spices is not allowed. 

2. Eat soup for lunch. As a starter, before your plate of rice. Do not eat soup at any other times of the day as this will immediately give you away as a non-Ecuadorian. Stare disapprovingly at ignorant foreigners eating soup for dinner. 

3. Be feminine. As a woman, it's important to always look your best. On this side of the world, that means growing your hair long, getting manicures and wearing high heels. Do your make-up on the bus. Stay in amazing shape. Somehow manage this on a diet of rice and sugary treats combined with no exercise.

4. Kiss everyone you meet. On the cheek, that is. And only one kiss on one cheek (the right one), mind you. Remember that you are in South America. We don't kiss on both cheeks here. Kiss everyone in the room to say hello and also goodbye. It doesn't matter if there are only two minutes in between. Kiss-kiss.

5. Make people wait. Endlessly. Of course they can take five hours out of their day to hang at the visa office. Take your time. Google things until the line gets a little bit longer. Then take a lunch break. Walk out slowly. Come back an hour later and google some more. When invited to a party that starts at 9 p.m., do not arrive before 11 p.m. The fun doesn't start until you are there anyway, does it?

6. Be vague. Whether positive or negative, do not tell people directly how you feel. This must be avoided at all costs. Expect people to understand what you want from them. Of course they can read your mind.

7. Experience emotions. Feel things very strongly. Welcome to the emotional roller-coaster that is not unlike a road trip up and down the Andean mountains. Just beware - once you're on it, there's no getting off.

8. Live on the wild side. If you're the one driving the bus, feel free to decorate your vehicle with proverbs and huge posters of Jesus or Virgin Mary. Play your music loudly, preferably reggaeton. Compete with other bus-drivers. Slow down at bus stops but do not stop completely. Let passengers jump on and off - it's more fun that way. 

9. Push people on the Ecovia. The fuller the bus, the more force you must use. It does not matter if you're carrying a guitar, a baby or a giant box of donuts. Getting on the bus is a matter of life and death and staying at the platform is the END OF THE WORLD.

10. Enjoy comfort. If you can afford it, buy a car. Drive everywhere. Complain constantly about the traffic and the pollution. Honk your horn often. 

11. Use diminutives (-ito,-ita) for everything and everyone. If your friend's name is Anna, call her Anita. If something is worth one dollar (un dólar), why not say it costs a little dollar (un dolarito) instead. Sounds way cheaper and cuter, doesn't it? To really fit in with the locals, add no más - no more. For example:

- How much does it cost?          - Un dolarito no más.
- How long will you be gone?    - Un ratito no más. 

12. Get up close and personal. Invade people's personal space and ask them intimate questions. Tell single foreigners to hurry up and marry an Ecuadorian.

13. Be incredibly kind to strangers. Treat foreigners so well that they never want to leave. 

14. Love passionately. Love your family. Love nature. Love God. Love soccer. Love Ecuadorian food. Love salsa. Dance!

15. Climb a volcano. Hike the mountains, enjoy the beach and get lost in the jungle. Believe in the power of magical plants and ancient shamans. Make sure you enjoy every single detail of this mysterious, miraculous, marvelous place in the middle of the world.

Do not pay a dolarito to ride a lama. Especially when you're actually afraid of them.

Poor is just a state of mind

The saleswoman studies me compassionately while I scrape the last coins out of my jeans pocket and stack them on the counter. Nine dollars and twenty-five cents. It's all the plata I have on me and just enough to buy me the smallest USB flash drive in the store. Truth to be told, I can't really afford this one either (that's this week's lunch money on the table) but my old memory stick has stopped functioning and I need one for work so I have no choice but to cough up my last dollars. 

It may be baffling to some people why anyone would actually choose a lifestyle where every single penny counts. Back in Finland, I made about three times as much as I make here and even though the cost of living is higher over there, life in Ecuador isn't exactly cheap. I knew before coming here that this year would be tough money wise; I didn't have a lot of savings and I had no plan except to look for adventure. Quitting my first job here and not getting paid for two months set me back even more and despite the fact that I'm now working full time, six days a week, it's a constant struggle to make ends meet. 

Once a month, I head to the bank with my paycheck and the cashier hands me a stack of twenty dollar bills. I then carefully walk home, silently praying that no one will decide to rob me that day. The following day, I pay my rent, which is about a third of my salary. The past two months, I paid twice that amount as a deposit for my apartment and this month, another large chunk will go to the renewal of my visa, which is an extremely costly (and emotionally weary) process in Ecuador. Once these payments have been made, I hide the rest of my hard earned twenty dollar bills in my sock drawer, hoping they will somehow last me until the end of the month. 

Some things are relatively cheap here. One ride on the public transport costs twenty-five cents, which means I spend about three dollars a week on traveling to and from work. For three dollars you can also get a fairly decent lunch, including vegetable soup, chicken or meat, always always rice and sometimes even a small dessert. Other things, such as cosmetics, are ridiculously expensive. I usually pick out the cheapest ones at the grocery store but still need to close my eyes and take a deep breath when I'm asked to hand over eighteen dollars for a mascara that will only last a couple of weeks. 

Normally our fridge isn't look quite as sad-looking but my roommates were on holiday this week and I was reluctant to spend the last of the money that my parents sent me for my birthday on groceries.

Some of the clothes I wear have holes in them (sorry, mom) but I can't afford to buy new ones so I come up with clever ways to hide the scruffiness instead. I really need a new pair of shoes though. The flats I brought with me from Finland are so flat and so worn out that any surface turns into a skating rink when it rains, which is pretty much every day. I've fallen flat on my face in the street a couple of times and whenever the bus brakes suddenly, I end up sliding from side to side. Luckily, there seems to always be someone there to catch me - Ecuadorians are good like that. 

What causes me the most headaches are the unforeseen costs. For example, last week on the bus, someone cut my bag open with a knife. I was only carrying books for work so fortunately nothing was stolen (I guess the thieves weren't interested in learning English) but I was rather upset about having to buy a new bag. There goes another twenty dollars that could have been spent on food for the week. Also, the new bag turned out to be to small for all my books so I'm still using the old one. A coworker rather creatively stitched it together for me and so far it's only ripped open once. 

Living on a tight budget can be somewhat daunting from time to time but even so, I can't imagine being anywhere else. It amazes me sometimes to think about the life I had back home where pretty much everything was available with the swipe of a credit card. Not that I was rich in any way but I could afford to travel and pay for clothes and groceries and anything I needed. Although I can't help but wonder if anyone actually needs organic teas and fancy superfoods like goji berries and chia seeds? Flights and hotels instead of buses and cheap hostels? And did I really use to fork out a hundred euros to get my hair cut?! Okay, so the three-dollar haircut I got here was a bit of a disaster but let's face it - it's just hair. It'll grow back eventually. 

Every day here, I see people of all ages begging for money. Little children sell candy on the street, teenagers sing rap songs on the bus and people with a handicap share their stories with resignation in their eyes, hoping that maybe this time someone will listen and spare a few coins to help them feed their families. I've also never come across so much entertainment at traffic lights. While waiting for the red to turn green, Quiteños can have their car windows cleaned, buy fresh avocados or enjoy a juggling performance. I even saw a tightrope walker the other day. It's a complete circus and I'm so grateful for the fact that no matter how "poor" I am, I will never end up living on the street. I will always have a home to return to and a family that supports me even when I make the craziest of decisions.

It's all about perspective, isn't it? I don't need special foods when I'm living in a country that is bursting with fresh fruit. Cheap green tea tastes more or less the same as the expensive kind and interesting conversations fill me up way more than any lavish meal ever could. Wine glasses and carefully prepared delicacies are not necessary for a fiesta - most guests will be more than happy to munch on nachos and drink whatever you serve them out of any random cup. Life is funny and life is short and most importantly, life is what you make it. I want to make mine about something other than material things - I want it to be about family, friendship and fun. Sunrises, sunsets and everything in between. Oceans and mountains and most of all, love. True love that will last a lot longer than any plata ever could.