*note: this blog is a bit dramatic but, it is completely how i felt at the time.
My heart began to race, my hand shaking as I looked down. There it was, a huge dent which had rendered my beloved camera useless. I felt tears begin to build in my eyes, I took a deep breath. “Maybe it’s not that bad,” I told myself with an attempted optimistic tone, “I will go to a camera shop in the morning, they’ll be able to help me.” I set my camera in my bag and went to walk around Queenstown. The walking didn’t last long, all I could do was think about my poor camera.
I kept relieving its tragic fall to the floor, where it smashed into a heavy white plate, someone left in my hostel dorm room. I went through every stage of grief in rapid cycles. I even had moments where I felt silly reacting so strongly to a broken camera. Nonetheless, the thought of breaking my camera and therefore being unable to photograph even one minute of my trip made me seethe with anger. Right after my passport and my debt/credit cards, damaging or loosing my camera was next on the list of things that could instantly ruin my trip. I take thousands of photos when I travel and with out my favorite Canon Powershot, I felt naked, as if I was missing a part of me.
I worried all night long, “what if I can’t get this fixed?” “Can I afford a new camera?” “Can I at least save the pictures on the memory card.?” I was standing outside the camera shop when it opened the next morning. The friendly staff said there was nothing they could do to fix my camera, but they could give me the tools necessary to try and fix it myself. I stood at the counter of the tiny camera shop holding a very small flat head screwdriver and went for it. First I tried to gently pry the dented section of the camera loose, no luck. Next, I lightly tapped the screw driver into the dented compartment with a hammer, still nothing. At this point I has lost all hope, so mostly out of frustration I jammed to screw driver down into the camera door and POP it flew open. The battery and memory card exposed. My heart began to beat fast and irregular, I was either on the verge of fixing my camera or completely destroying it.
I took a needle-noose pliers and gently molded the mangled metal back into place. I tried to shut the opening, it was too loose. I folded the outer shell inward, tried to close the door again, and again nothing; this time it was too tight. As I made my third attempt to mold the camera back into the correct shape needed to close the flap and hold both the battery and memory card in place, I began to think about other ways I could hold the door shut, duct tape, hair elastics, everything I had access to crossed my mind. Gently, I pulled and twist small sections of metal, I exercised a level of patience I was unaware I was capable of achieving. Then finally as if nothing had ever happened to the camera, the door slid shut. I opened and closed it a few times to check, but indeed it was back together and able to function as if the previous evenings damage had not occurred. To be safe I affixed a small amount of duct tape to the outer section of the door and for almost 2 weeks I had no further issues.
Then my first night in Singapore, it happened again. The door to the case was jammed. This time the camera had not fallen or for that matter, been mistreated. Again I went to a camera shop and again, I found myself holding tiny tools and carefully tinkering with my camera. After several unsuccessful attempts. The man in the shop took my camera from me and slapped it from the undamaged side. The door popped open. He the innstructed me not to open the compartment unless I absolutely have to and he replaced the hinge on the door, free of charge. Two more weeks have gone by and so far (*knock wood*) no problems (although, I've only opened the flap twice). I am thrilled to have a working camera and thankful I can take pictures and video to remember my trip. However, I have learned three valuable lessons from all of this. First, use a camera case; second, always bring a spare camera; and finally, never ever, let something like this ruin your trip; I was acting crazy.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Facing my fears
When I tell people my passion is international travel they are always inquisitive of the details. When they learn I spend the majority of my travel time alone, on a very tight budget, with a very-very small backpack and little else, they all say the same thing, “you’re so brave.” At first this comment caught me off guard as backpacking and international travel don’t seem scary to me by definition; but over time I’ve realized people see what I do as brave, because it is something they have never done. The unknown/unfamiliar is scary. To face the unknown and just go for it, is really frightening, because it requires us to relinquish control and let things happen to us. As a “control freak” this is a horrifying concept, yet surprisingly only recently did I realize, when I travel I let down my guard, my need for control. I fly by the seat of my pants, go places where I can’t speak the language or even read a street sign. I surrender myself to the chaos of my foreign surroundings.
This is something I need to do in more aspects of my life, letting go and seeing what happens. Exploring what there is to learn about myself and the world by taking a chance and doing something where control is in the hands of someone else. Enter bungy jumping or because of my somewhat fragile back, bungy swinging. Queenstown, New Zealand often called the adrenaline capital of the world, offers many options for letting someone else have control; in my case the employees of bungy operator, AJ Hacket.
I asked a lot of questions as I was being strapped into the bungy harness, continued asking questions as I was lowered over the drop sight. They told me when I was ready to fall, all I had to do was pull the red rip cord. That was the moment it I realized, I had control over when I would plummet toward the ground but was not in control of when the plummeting would stop. I was the one who chose to do this crazy thing, but not the one who was controlling my experience. I had to let go and know that I would be ok.
I looked out over Queenstown. The red ripcord in my hand and took a deep breath, one of the bungy techs counted back from five, he told me to pull on “one”. I appreciated the help. “Five, four, three, two”, I felt a surge of adrenaline as I knew I was about to go, “one”. I jerked tightly on the cord, nothing. I was still there. The cord and the pin still connected. The cord was still attached. My moment of bravery gone, the adrenaline stopped pumping through me. The tech yelled out, “cords stuck, try wiggling it a little” I looked down at the cord and began to wiggle it. At first nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the cord flew out of the harness and I suddenly felt weightless and 10,000 pounds all at the same time. 
I was not ready at all, true fear surged through me, my heart raced. I was falling really, really fast toward the ground. Then I stopped falling and started to swing out over the city. At that moment I felt, good. The view was amazing and I was alive. A little while later I was back on solid ground, with adrenaline pumping through me. I was crazy high from the thrill of it all.
I can still feel that horrifying weightlessness feeling if I close my eyes and think about the situation. Am I glad I did the bungy swing, absolutely. Would I do it again, I just might. Am I still obsessed with being in control, indeed I am. Nonetheless, I tell myself, this was a good step and just another way I am brave; brave enough to face my personal fears, brave enough to fly without a safety net, brave enough to do what it takes to learn and grow, brave enough to go for what I want and except no substitutions.
This is something I need to do in more aspects of my life, letting go and seeing what happens. Exploring what there is to learn about myself and the world by taking a chance and doing something where control is in the hands of someone else. Enter bungy jumping or because of my somewhat fragile back, bungy swinging. Queenstown, New Zealand often called the adrenaline capital of the world, offers many options for letting someone else have control; in my case the employees of bungy operator, AJ Hacket.I asked a lot of questions as I was being strapped into the bungy harness, continued asking questions as I was lowered over the drop sight. They told me when I was ready to fall, all I had to do was pull the red rip cord. That was the moment it I realized, I had control over when I would plummet toward the ground but was not in control of when the plummeting would stop. I was the one who chose to do this crazy thing, but not the one who was controlling my experience. I had to let go and know that I would be ok.
I looked out over Queenstown. The red ripcord in my hand and took a deep breath, one of the bungy techs counted back from five, he told me to pull on “one”. I appreciated the help. “Five, four, three, two”, I felt a surge of adrenaline as I knew I was about to go, “one”. I jerked tightly on the cord, nothing. I was still there. The cord and the pin still connected. The cord was still attached. My moment of bravery gone, the adrenaline stopped pumping through me. The tech yelled out, “cords stuck, try wiggling it a little” I looked down at the cord and began to wiggle it. At first nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the cord flew out of the harness and I suddenly felt weightless and 10,000 pounds all at the same time. 
I was not ready at all, true fear surged through me, my heart raced. I was falling really, really fast toward the ground. Then I stopped falling and started to swing out over the city. At that moment I felt, good. The view was amazing and I was alive. A little while later I was back on solid ground, with adrenaline pumping through me. I was crazy high from the thrill of it all.I can still feel that horrifying weightlessness feeling if I close my eyes and think about the situation. Am I glad I did the bungy swing, absolutely. Would I do it again, I just might. Am I still obsessed with being in control, indeed I am. Nonetheless, I tell myself, this was a good step and just another way I am brave; brave enough to face my personal fears, brave enough to fly without a safety net, brave enough to do what it takes to learn and grow, brave enough to go for what I want and except no substitutions.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Checking out New Zealand with Ben
Ben and Lisa were the most amazing hosts while I was in New Zealand, they made me feel instantly at home, cared for and at times even pampered. 
They cooked for me, gave me rides and even helped me plan a trip to Queenstown. Ben planned road trips for both of the weekends I was in New Zealand. The trips were an amazing chance for us to spend time together, something significantly limited in the past the five years due to distance. We talked about our lives, gave each other advice and laughed about the past and how much we’ve both changed in the nine years we’ve been friends. It was as if he never moved away.
Our first trip was to Akaroa and the banks peninsula, on the east coast of the south island. It was beautiful, the only French settlement in New Zealand, it is a beautiful small town right on the water. We visit many beautiful inlets and bays, stopped to go on a few small hikes and explored the beautiful country roads of the region.
***
The next day Ben and Lisa took me to lunch in one of New Zealand’s many wine regions, Waipara. We visit two vineyards and taste several delicious wines. The second vineyard was where Ben and Lisa bought the wine for their wedding, last September and they recognized Ben. They invited us to go out to the grapes and pick some so we could taste them in their natural state. It was really fun and the grapes were delicious.
****
The following weekend Ben pick me up at the airport in Christchurch just as I was flying back in from Queenstown, so we could begin our road trip to the east coast of the island. Along the way we stopped for a cold drink in the middle of nowhere and I tried to chase down a sheep, so I could pet it. When I got close enough to the sheep it started to pee everywhere and scared me away.
We chose to stay in the very small almost empty mining town of Hokitika for the night and the next day, make our way to Fox and Franz Joseph glaciers. The hikes(walks) to both of the glaciers were beautiful and surprisingly easy. The glaciers were both amazing. Fox was smaller and had fewer people. It was centered in the middle of a very high valley carved over thousands of years by the melting and moving ice.
The Fran Joseph glacier was more commercial, but in my opinion more visually impressive with a river emerging from an ice cave at its base and ice so cold it was blue. I know absolutely nothing about glaciers except they are made of ice, cold and melting (due to climate change) at an alarming rate; however, if you want to know more this is a good resource.
After the awe inspiring glaciers we made our way to the New Zealand pancake rocks and blowholes in Punakaiki, just in time to watch a beautiful sunset.
***
The next morning we drove back towards the east coast to soak in the natural geothermal hot springs of Maruia.
Soaking in the natural pools felt so good after two days sitting in a car and hiking around glaciers. The sulfur smelling water was healing the wound on my knee from a bicycle accident two weeks prior, it magically healed in the hour I was in the pool, and my muscle and back pain I had was gone. All this was with a view of a river and mountains. It was an amazing morning and an even more exceptional weekend.
I am so thankful to Ben and Lisa for sharing their home with me, for taking me places I could not have seen using public transportation and making every minute of my trip special.
They cooked for me, gave me rides and even helped me plan a trip to Queenstown. Ben planned road trips for both of the weekends I was in New Zealand. The trips were an amazing chance for us to spend time together, something significantly limited in the past the five years due to distance. We talked about our lives, gave each other advice and laughed about the past and how much we’ve both changed in the nine years we’ve been friends. It was as if he never moved away.
Our first trip was to Akaroa and the banks peninsula, on the east coast of the south island. It was beautiful, the only French settlement in New Zealand, it is a beautiful small town right on the water. We visit many beautiful inlets and bays, stopped to go on a few small hikes and explored the beautiful country roads of the region.***
The next day Ben and Lisa took me to lunch in one of New Zealand’s many wine regions, Waipara. We visit two vineyards and taste several delicious wines. The second vineyard was where Ben and Lisa bought the wine for their wedding, last September and they recognized Ben. They invited us to go out to the grapes and pick some so we could taste them in their natural state. It was really fun and the grapes were delicious.
****
The following weekend Ben pick me up at the airport in Christchurch just as I was flying back in from Queenstown, so we could begin our road trip to the east coast of the island. Along the way we stopped for a cold drink in the middle of nowhere and I tried to chase down a sheep, so I could pet it. When I got close enough to the sheep it started to pee everywhere and scared me away.
We chose to stay in the very small almost empty mining town of Hokitika for the night and the next day, make our way to Fox and Franz Joseph glaciers. The hikes(walks) to both of the glaciers were beautiful and surprisingly easy. The glaciers were both amazing. Fox was smaller and had fewer people. It was centered in the middle of a very high valley carved over thousands of years by the melting and moving ice.
The Fran Joseph glacier was more commercial, but in my opinion more visually impressive with a river emerging from an ice cave at its base and ice so cold it was blue. I know absolutely nothing about glaciers except they are made of ice, cold and melting (due to climate change) at an alarming rate; however, if you want to know more this is a good resource.
After the awe inspiring glaciers we made our way to the New Zealand pancake rocks and blowholes in Punakaiki, just in time to watch a beautiful sunset.
***
The next morning we drove back towards the east coast to soak in the natural geothermal hot springs of Maruia.
Soaking in the natural pools felt so good after two days sitting in a car and hiking around glaciers. The sulfur smelling water was healing the wound on my knee from a bicycle accident two weeks prior, it magically healed in the hour I was in the pool, and my muscle and back pain I had was gone. All this was with a view of a river and mountains. It was an amazing morning and an even more exceptional weekend.I am so thankful to Ben and Lisa for sharing their home with me, for taking me places I could not have seen using public transportation and making every minute of my trip special.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Silence and Nature: always a good opportunity for self discovery
Post earthquake Christchurch is a quiet place. The beach, contaminated but still beautiful offers long walks and the chance to contemplate life. I walked miles down the beach of South Brighton day after day and suddenly found myself overcome with emotions, forced to confront myself and the feelings I’d been pushing aside for so long. I cried, it was cathartic.
The silent beauty of a place like New Zealand has the power to uplift you as you deal with your demons. I went for it and welcomed the chance to grow and heal. I sat on the beach for hours, listened to music, wrote in my journal and asked myself questions. I took the chance to explore myself and perhaps even become an improved version of myself. I’m two years post “quarter life crisis” and still have no idea what I want from life. Traveling is the only thing that feels right for me. I feel more in touch with the real me when I am in a constant state of exploration. Asking myself how I can do this and live a more “stable” or “settled” life. What are my priorities? Besides backpacking, what are the things that make me happy? I’m using the silence of Christchurch to explore these questions and so much more. I’m using this opportunity as a metamorphosis and a chance to become a better me.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Christchurch a tragedy we've already forgotten
February 22, 2011 - a very shallow 6.3 earthquake ripped through the center of beautiful, historic Christchurch, New Zealand. Buildings already made unstable from previous earthquakes in September and December 2010, fell to the ground. Bricks and dry wall crumbled around thousands of people. Moments after I arrived in Christchurch to visit my friends Ben and Lisa, to support them post earthquake and to support New Zealand. I did consider canceling my trip but decided, now was not the time to abandon Ben and Lisa, nor was it the time to ignore Christchurch.
I was nonetheless shocked when I got off the bus, rerouted due to earthquake damage, all around me buildings were barely standing, entire walls , tops of chimneys gone, church steeples and roofs collapsed in heaps on the ground. The historic city center was blocked off and guarded by military. As I walked the streets of Christchurch there was an odd calm, no other pedestrians, few cars. The city more or less abandoned.
It was surreal. There were moments I felt like I was in some kind of post-apocalyptic horror film. It only took a few hours for me to realize there was nothing left to do in Christchurch. All museums closed.
Most shops, cafes and restaurants closed. The few businesses that were open had limited hours. The people I did encounter were unfriendly and catatonic, still in shock or rendered apathetic. The February 22 earthquake in Christchurch was nothing short of tragic.
The 6.3 richter scale ratting is an inaccurate explanation for the magnitude and severity of the February quake, as it was so shallow in the ground the earth was moved at a force so strong the ground was rolled by rapid waves moving everything up and down and side to side. Aftershocks rattle through the area every few hours, some quick and jerking others slow and rolling. Just like the locals around me, I am getting by the best I can. Searching for the little joys and doing whatever it takes to improve the situation. I fear, the catastrophic events in Japan have quickly push Christchurch out of the hearts and mind of the international community.
This link is to a fifteen minute video of the damage done to central Christchurch and some of its most historic buildings. I will warn you, if you have previously visit Christchurch (or even if you have not)what you are about to see is devastating. http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=qbXJJN9ZSFc
Resources and More Info:
* Donate to help: http://www.redcross.org.nz/cms_display.php
* http://www.christchurchquakemap.co.nz/
* http://canterburyearthquake.org.nz/
* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011_Christchurch_earthquake
* http://www.stuff.co.nz/the-press/news/christchurch-earthquake-2011/4838607/More-than-128-Christchurch-buildings-face-demolition
I was nonetheless shocked when I got off the bus, rerouted due to earthquake damage, all around me buildings were barely standing, entire walls , tops of chimneys gone, church steeples and roofs collapsed in heaps on the ground. The historic city center was blocked off and guarded by military. As I walked the streets of Christchurch there was an odd calm, no other pedestrians, few cars. The city more or less abandoned.It was surreal. There were moments I felt like I was in some kind of post-apocalyptic horror film. It only took a few hours for me to realize there was nothing left to do in Christchurch. All museums closed.
Most shops, cafes and restaurants closed. The few businesses that were open had limited hours. The people I did encounter were unfriendly and catatonic, still in shock or rendered apathetic. The February 22 earthquake in Christchurch was nothing short of tragic.The 6.3 richter scale ratting is an inaccurate explanation for the magnitude and severity of the February quake, as it was so shallow in the ground the earth was moved at a force so strong the ground was rolled by rapid waves moving everything up and down and side to side. Aftershocks rattle through the area every few hours, some quick and jerking others slow and rolling. Just like the locals around me, I am getting by the best I can. Searching for the little joys and doing whatever it takes to improve the situation. I fear, the catastrophic events in Japan have quickly push Christchurch out of the hearts and mind of the international community.
This link is to a fifteen minute video of the damage done to central Christchurch and some of its most historic buildings. I will warn you, if you have previously visit Christchurch (or even if you have not)what you are about to see is devastating. http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=qbXJJN9ZSFc
Resources and More Info:
* Donate to help: http://www.redcross.org.nz/cms_display.php
* http://www.christchurchquakemap.co.nz/
* http://canterburyearthquake.org.nz/
* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011_Christchurch_earthquake
* http://www.stuff.co.nz/the-press/news/christchurch-earthquake-2011/4838607/More-than-128-Christchurch-buildings-face-demolition
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