The FROBIN story

When I was 6 years old, I developed this fascination with Brazil. I don't know why it happened, as I had never been to the country, knew nothing about its culture, and had no Brazilian friends. My mother had taken me to a toy store to buy a doll from an International Doll collection. I immediately told her that I had to have the doll from Brazil. Of course, as a Jewish mother, she tried to convince me to the get the doll from Israel, but I held steadfast. I just HAD to have the Brazilian girl.

A few years later, I was given an assignment in school to do a research project on any country in the world. Of course, I chose Brazil. I can still remember drawing the outline of the country on the green construction paper and hoping that someday I could visit the Amazon. "What is it about Brazil?" she would ask me. And I had no answer except, "Mom, I don't know but I think it must be amazing there." I would trace the mountain ridges on my 3D globe, wondering what the beaches of Rio must be like, and how many animals were in the rainforest.

So when I told her I was going to visit Rio in October 2007, she told me, "well it's ABOUT TIME!" I laughed at her when she told me that she was sure I would come home with a love interest. But then I met Fred...

So now, 15 months later, I finally understand why I fell in love with the country: it's called "beshert." This is a word that every Jewish mother and grandmother knows, and it literally translates to "destiny." In modern day Jewish Grandma Talk, it speaks of your soulmate and the person that you were meant to be with. Falling in love with your childhood friend after reuniting 20 years later is beshert. Missing the plane and meeting your future wife while getting loaded at the airport bar is beshert. And developing a premature obsession with a country for no apparent reason and then finding your husband there is beshert.

If you've read my earlier posts, you know how Fred and I met and how we were brought closer by his near death experience. So when I moved out here, we knew we already had a strong bond that withstood the test of trauma and seemingly endless separation. But were we ready to not only live in the same country, but in the same house??

It wasn't always easy, as we were really getting to know one another VERY well VERY quickly. He hates that I forget to turn the lights off when I leave the room. It drives me crazy when his dirty socks are RIGHT NEXT to the hamper instead of in it. But over time, we have learned how to live together, how to deal with each others' moods, and when to leave the other one alone!

Before I moved to Rio, Fred asked me (over video camera on skype) if I would marry him. I laughed and said, "honey, I think you need to see if you can live with me first!" But when we decided to file the paperwork in November for our fiance visa, we thought, "well, I guess this means we're really engaged now!"

But for me, the official engagement only really happened when Fred asked my father for permission for my hand. My parents were visiting and I decided to cook a quiche (yes, I actually cook now...sort of). They came over for dinner and while we were raising our glasses for a wine toast, Fred turned to my father and said, "I really love Robin and I want to ask your permission to marry her." We had discussed previously that this was a nice tradition that some chivalrous men partake in in the US, but I didn't expect him to do it with me sitting in the room. Dad said yes, and of course, my mother and me cried!!

So now we wait...the Visa Waiting Game. There are many steps that one has to go through to finally bring his or her fiance to the US, and I'm sure you can imagine that nobody lights a fire under the government workers' asses to move quickly. We are hopeful that the first (and longest) step of the process will be completed by mid May, and then Fred can finally join me in NYC in early to mid summer. And once he is with me there, THEN the real celebrating can begin and we can toast our engagement properly!

So that's how it goes...not a "down on one knee with a huge rock and a big surprise proposal," but one that has been known between 2 people for many months and had the most important components. There's no giant rock on my finger, no big celebration at a bar with a huge group, and no talks of wedding locations and bridesmaid dresses yet. That will come later...right now, it's just 2 people very happy to have found one another and eager to begin a life together. It's beshert.

Inca Trail Day 3: 12/11/08

I awoke bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to conquer the world on Day 3...until the stomach cramps hit. I was a bit sick the night before but thought I would be better after a good night's sleep. WRONG. Day 3 was the longest and I knew I had a LOT of walking a head of me. Simply put, the morning was atrocious. It was steep uphill for the first hour, and with every step, I felt the shock of contact fully through my stomach. Thankfully, as the day went on and I drank a lot of water (and took a lot of Pepto), the cramps subsided and day.

The best part of Day 3 was the ever-changing scenery and the gentle sloping of the terrain. One minute we were in the highlands overlooking snow capped mountains, then we were in the valley's forest watching a wild turkey in a tree. The less challenging terrain also allowed for a lot of individuals to bond. Because we were not huffing and puffing up steep inclines and not focusing on difficult descents, were were able to learn a lot about one another as we took in the Andean beauty. I learned all about Kevin's Polish grandparents and Charlie's Korean ancestry. Luke and Jonathan told me all about medical school in Australia, and Mark and Lindsey kept everyone laughing all day!

That night, I learned to play Asshole (the card game) and joined the crew at the campsite bar. After an intense, somewhat drunken discussion about relationships, disgusting habits, and other things new friends confide in one another, we all went to sleep and prepared for the Big Day. Day 4 was Machu Picchu...

Inca Trail - Day 2: 12/10/08

Today I added a new experience to the small group of accomplishments I consider "exhilirating."  Jumping out of an airplane and parachuting to the ground was exhilirating.  Learning how to really attack the powder in Jackson Hole was exhilirating.  And hiking a very steep trail to Dead Woman's pass (the highest point on the Inca Trail at 4201m) was exhilirating.  

Our day started at 530am with a wakeup call and hot coco tea.  Actually, my and Emma's began at 317am with dueling dogs barking and then a rooster who was 2 hours too early.  After breakfast, we began our trek at approximately 650am.  It was, for me, tough from the start; however, I kept Fred's principles in the back of my mind:  positive attitude, a focus on breathing, and setting my own pace.  And so it went for 7 hours. We stopped for a brief rest every 25 to 30 minutes to wait for the group stragglers to catch up (which, to my happy surprise, was never me).  I have to say that as much as I appreciated the breaks, I did feel that they were often too long and broke my rhythm a bit.  But, it went like this a s a "family" trekking to the 14,000 foot summit.

As we rose in altitude, my body began to feel the effects even more.  My breathing became more labored, my feet began to tingle, and the muscles in my neck tightened up.  But I kept on.

At last we could see our destination, and though it looked so close, at the same time it seemed like infinite steps separated me from the top.  The last 600 feet were particularly brutal.  The size of the stone stairs got higher; at times I was climbing steps that were as high as my knees.  My lungs burned from trying to suck in as much oxygen from the thin air as I could.  But as I got closer, I began to hear cheers.  Fellow hikers who were already at the top and had reached their goal called out encouragements to their teammates.  Every time someone reached the summit, cheers erupted.  

And so, inspired by the shouts from my "family members" who were already there, I persevered.  I literally bounded up the last 5 steps with a burst of adrenaline and was immediately overcome with...exhiliration.  Of course, I joined in the cheers as my fellow Yellow Llamas each made it to the top, and I think the smiles on our faces say it all in the group photo!  And to think...this wasn't even Machu Picchu yet!  

But alas, with every high comes a low (literally) and we spent the next 90 minutes going down steep rock stairs to our campsite below.  It was totally exhausting and I got hit with my first bout of altitude sickness, which made the last 30 minutes particularly unenjoyable.  But alas, here I am at camp and tomorrow we will set out for Day 3.  It's the longest at 20km, but not nearly as steep and rigorous.  I feel ready and...exhilirated!

Inca Trail - Day 1: 12/9/08

We began our journey at 9am at Km 82 - a town called Piskakuchu.  From the start, the view were amazing.  Hiking along the Sacred River, we were surrounded by mountains, endless fields of corn, and the little local towns.  Throughout the hike, we shared the sacred pathe with Incan descendants still living in the area (and their many mules).  Periodically the porters, each carrying 50-60kg of our belongings, zipped past us with their ripped calves flexing as they rapidly trekked up the path.  

This first day was the "easy one."  With little incline and varied terrain, it was cake compared to what was to come.  We stopped frequently and our guide Percy explained to us the incredible history of his ancestors.  It seemed that around every turn there were more ruins, expertly crafted by the Incas in the 1500's.  We stopped for our first meal, which was cooked for us by the chef that traveled with our group.  After lunch, we hiked for another 90 minutes and reached our campsite for night 1, which was nestled in a valley surrounded by green mountains (some still snowcapped, even in the summer).  Our tents were set up, and the group quickly hiked over to the adjacent soccer field, where the boys proceeded to play 4 games against the village locals.  Despite the altitude and obvious disadvantage of being gringoes, our team (Inca Kola) had an impressive showing and although they ultimately lost the majority of their games, they still kicked ass.  

Emma and I sat on the sides to be team cheerleaders.  The prospect of tomorrow's hike (which will be grueling) combined with my lack of soccer skills made sitting this one out an obvious choice.  As I sat and looked around me, I tried to fully take in the beauty of my surroundings.  I feel bad because the pictures will not do this place justice.  The only way to truly experience the Peruvian Andes is to be encompassed by them, breathe in the fresh air, and feel the sun warm you.  A simple photo only captures a few degrees of 360 degree panoramic amazement.

Now It's about dinner time and while I hiked in shorts and a T-shirt, I am now clad in a wool hat, gloves, scarf, and 3 layers of clothes.  I can see my breath in the glow of my headlight and it is FRIGGIN' COLD OUT HERE!  I pray that tomorrow will be ok for me and that I can maintain the positive attitude that Fred has taught me.  Good Karma...and OFF I GO!

Journey on the Inca Trail

 

Last week, I returned from Peru, which was INCREDIBLE.  I met up with Emma, my favorite adventure buddy and dear Aussie friend (who moved back to Australia after our trip and I don't want to talk about it).  The trip was a 2 weeks adventure in Peru. The second week was spent prancing around Lima and Cusco, and exploring the jungle (which was surprisingly mediocre). But the first week was the highlight of the trip - and certainly one of the highlights of my travel life - hiking the Inca Trail for 4 days to reach Machu Picchu. 

 If you haven't already done it, you MUST put it onto your to-do life list.

Since we went through GAP adventure tours, we were joined with 9 others for our excursion to Machu Picchu.  And what a group we were!  I could not have asked for a better crew of people to spend the week with, and it made the trip even more amazing than it would have been otherwise.  Almost everyone else was from Australia, save for 3 other Americans, a guy from Ireland, and another from the UK.  I have never met an Aussie that I didn't adore, and that has not changed.  We all bonded quickly, and became the Yellow Llamas, the most kick-ass group to ever hit the Inca Trail

Once I arrived in Cusco (2 days before the trail), I began to keep a travel diary so that I could record exactly how I was feeling at the end of each day.  So, here it is...

Cusco: 12/7/08...The Drama of Getting Here

Today we arrived in Cusco, which is the historical "hub" of Peru.  After a 630 am wake-up call, which actually came at 5:10 am and made me close to pulling a Russell Crowe on the hotel front desk, we headed to the airport.  After a one hour flight, we landed and Cusco...and thus the fun of altitude sickness began!  Despite the fact that I am taking Sorochi tablets (Peru's version of Diamox), drinking roughly my body weight in water, and relaxing today, I am still getting my ass whooped by Team Altitude.

I have had a hard time catching my breath after 1 fight of stairs (which sucks when your hotel room is on the top floor).  My breathing feels labored, even at rest, and despite the 10 gallons of moisturizer I have applied to my face and body, I am still thoroughly dehydrated.  But, tomorrow is a new day and I hope to be adjusted to the altitude.

Actually, I really can't complain, as it's a minor miracle that I even made it here!  You see, being a dumb and naive traveler, I didn't THOROUGHLY check the Brazilian embassy website before leaving.  I knew I needed a yellow fever vaccination and I knew I needed it 10 days before hitting the Amazon (which will be 10 days into my trip).  What I did not know until my friend Melissa (another American living in Rio) pointed out is that I needed the vaccination 10 days before LEAVING Brazil.  If you are flying out of AND returning to Brazil, the government requires that the vaccination be fully effective before you leave the country and enter into Peru.  This means a person needs to get vaccinated at the very least 10 days before the flight out of Brazil.  My flight was December 5, and I had gotten the shot (and dated certificate that proved it) on Dec. 1.  So, when Melissa told me on Wed night that I would likely not be allowed on my 6am flight Friday morning (the same exact thing happened to her last year), I panicked.  

Thursday is a blur in my head- a day spent FREAKING out and trying to figure out a solution.  Enter my incredibly stable and resourceful boyfriend, and we wound up at the Peruvian embassy in Rio.  I found out that if I flew out of a different country, such as Uruguay or Argentina, I would not be asked for the yellow fever vaccination (since those countries do not require a traveler to get the vaccine before going to Peru).  Alas, this meant that all I had to do was change my early morning flight from Rio-Peru, to Rio-Argentina, and then Argentina-Peru.

Armed with this advice and a credit card, I proceeded to change my flights (and dole out an extra few hundo).  Sure, it was 5pm on Thursday by the time I figured it all out.  Yeah it was expensive and made my travel more complicated...but guess what?!  I am HERE IN PERU and nobody asked to see my damn vaccination certificate!!  WOO HOO!!

Tomorrow it's off to Ollytatumbo for my last night in civilization (and my last hot shower) for the next 4 days.  And then...THE INCA TRAIL...

Ilha Grande

Last week, Fred andI spent a few days in Ilha Grande, which is portuguese for "big island."  After hopping on a 2 hour bus ride (at 5 am), the very cranky and tired couple boarded the ferry for the 90 minute ride from Mangaratiba to Ilha Grande.  The ferry dropped us off  on the beach of Abrao, which is the mainland of Ilha Grande.  We began our journey by hiking for about an hour to Praia Palmas, where we found a charming campsite and set up our tent.  Then, it was off to hike and explore other beaches!

Ilha Grande is famous for it's incredible beaches, and each one is aesthetically unique.  You can hike all around 

the island, and each trek opens up onto pure paradise.  Praia Maria Lopez Mendes  frequently makes the magazine lists of The World's Most Beautiful Beaches due to its turquoise water, white sand, and 

lucious green backdrop.  Praia Palmas is 

surrounded 

by jagged rocks, stray dogs,  and pebbly sand, and San Antonio...well, get there early on a Monday morning and you just may have a private beach all to yourself (which we DID!)

We spent the first day hiking and exploring Palmas and Maria Lopez beaches.  Fred found some rocks to climb, and I consequently found some nice back muscles to take pictures of :)  (see for yourself)!  We hung out on the rocks, played in the sand, and decided to head back to our tent around 5 for an EXTREMELY IMPORTANT EVENT:  The Flamengo futeb

ol game.  Somehow, on this tiny beach waaaay in the middle of BFE, Fred found a guy with a TV who was happy to bring it to the little cabana bar and broadcast the soccer match.   Sadly, Flamengo lost the game, but it was loads of fun to watch drunk-ass beach bums slur cheers for the team!  

Night 1 brought tons of rain, but Day 2 started with a beautiful sunrise!  We awoke and decided to hike to San Antonio beach, where for the 4 hours we spent there, we were the only people

 But alas, where there was a lack of humans there was an abundance of another type of creature...THE SIRI CRAB.  

Buenos Aires - Part 1