To all my old friends:
I've spent quite a lot of time this past year distressed about how I was losing myself--thinking back to my teenage youth when I thought everything was awful but truly I was thriving despite my inability to keep up with my homework. But sitting here, drinking my bottle of champagne for one while counting down the hours till I can go to bed on this new years eve (okay, it's really not as depressing as it sounds); I am realizing that it isn't so much a younger version of myself that I have been yearning for, it is all of you. Ever since extracting myself from the community I was a part of for so many years I have been searching for all that I left behind (to, mostly, no avail).
So, my dear friends, for the start of this mysterious year of 2016 (goddammit, I'm still trying to grasp that the year changed to 2000!) I would like to tell you how very much I miss you, how very much I love you.
When pop stars sing about lost loves and how if even for a second they could get them back, I'm pretty sure those songs are written about y'all.
We were so fucking stupid and surely there was so much pain, but we were able to ride it out, sitting around a fire, speaking sweet nothings and laughing, laughing, laughing. You all were my vice, no need to weather the social situations with substances, we were all crazy pills for each other with only one side affect: love (holy god that was cheesy! The champagne is slowly going to my head). I remember the mornings I was determined to hate the day and y'all would refuse to let me win every. time. You are why I'm still alive. I took for granted how easy it was to ask for help when you're in a town that is filled to the brim with people you feel 100% comfortable with. Words can't do justice the joy I felt when I was surrounded by all of you. You all were my life.
Now, I haven't lost you, not really. But also (you know), I have. We were like a beautiful bombshell that exploded and landed all across the world to bring joy to other places and other people. I am so, so glad for that! I love hearing how amazing all of you continue to be. But now, it's 2016 and I haven't seen some of you since 2014 and I miss it all like parched ground misses rain.
I love you all. Here's to all those new years we spent together, and here's to whatever this one brings!
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Monday, October 26, 2015
The Phases of Greif: A Pamphlet
After 3 months: You may be feeling a sense of deep sadness, along with many occurrences of happiness, though if you're feeling neither that is fine too. Feelings beyond the realm of language are quite likely as well.
After 6 months: You may be feeling a sense of deep sadness, along with many occurrences of happiness, though if you're feeling neither that is fine too. Feelings beyond the realm of language are quite likely as well.
After 12 months: You may be feeling a sense of deep sadness, along with many occurrences of happiness, though if you're feeling neither that is fine too. Feelings beyond the realm of language are quite likely as well.
After 2 years: You may be feeling a sense of deep sadness, along with many occurrences of happiness, though if you're feeling neither that is fine too. Feelings beyond the realm of language are quite likely as well. You may feel as though you're re-experiencing the loss all over again, other times you may feel afraid that a time may come when you don't think about them every day, because you can feel your life existing without them physically beside you. All, none, and some of these are normal.
Grief is not an affliction, it is a way of life. Stages cannot be prescribed as your grief is as unique as you and the loved one you lost.
The other day I was standing on the beach with Eric, and I felt a story of my past come up and instead of suppressing it as I would usually do, I let myself talk about it. I described fall in NH, how the paths in our neighborhood would be covered with vibrant dead leaves and I'd pile them up and serve pretend food to my mom. And then I broke down crying, realizing that I was utterly terrified that someday I would stop missing her.
Over the past year I have slowly allowed myself to shut my mom out of my public life. I didn't mean to, but talking about her inevitably led to talking about my grief and that made people feel uncomfortable.
So here is my mom:
Her name is Mary Ann Johnson, so yes, my last name is her maiden name. She grew up in Minnesota, a state I had the privilege of living in for a short stint last summer. I meant to bury some of the small items that belonged to her in the state, but I'm bad at enacting my ideas. I also don't have many memories of her from Minnesota, most of them are from Kentucky.
I remember that when I was young she would comfort me when I was sad, and then at least tried to comfort me when I was a teenager and denying comfort was my forte.
I know she liked to dress up when we would go out to see theatre performances, which we attended often because my family is entrenched in theatre. She would put on a necklace and make sure her shoes matched her dress and sometimes dab on a little perfume--to her wrists and her neck. She really liked the honeysuckle perfume that I believe was a present from Kate.
I remember she would sometimes work impossible hours, often 12 hours a day because she needed to be there for her patients--I see this in myself, this need to overwork if it is going to help others, so if you see that in me, thank my mom, it is her.
I remember that because of this she didn't end up cooking from scratch very often, even though she enjoyed it and when she did cook from scratch it was delicious--spotzan, lefsa, monkey bread, banana bread--most of her recipes came from her mother and were kept in little brown boxes in the kitchen. She also loved Oreos; and enjoyed sharing that joy with others such as when she bought Gjon, my foreign exchange brother from Germany, a giant box bigger than his head of Oreos for christmas.
I remember she would call her siblings every Sunday and quite enjoyed sitting on the hammock with Jewels in her lap and pepper under her while she chatted. I picked that up too, but it is now an impossible memory to re-create.
I remember she would send me care packages for every holiday, even St. Patricks' day, and they always included special socks, which is why I now have nearly an entire drawer-full of seasonal socks. She even sent me a care package when I was in NZ and it included a beach ball that was sadly never used as I was there in the winter.
I remember she loved hanging out with her friends, but, like me, she also needed her alone time.
This is not even close to all of her, just the things I draw from the top of my head. I need to start talking about her again. And I don't need pity or a heartfelt "I'm so sorry" I just need you to know her, too.
Mom, tomorrow it will be two years since you left. I know you aren't really gone from me but it still feels like that sometimes. It does still suck hard and I'm still pissed at cancer and wish you were still alive and thriving. But my life is okay, it is full for sure. I am surely floundering about well, as those in our early 20s do--confused and terrified and excited. I do wish you were here to guide me, but you set me on a pretty good path and gave me the tools I needed to be okay long after you passed, so thank you for that. I love you past forever.
"The end of this month is reserved for honoring the dead by many cultures around the world. Our gardens now begin to show us what was believed by the ancient druids to be the closing of the natural cycle of the year." –Seattle Tilth gardening book
To two years of freedom from cancer!-A toast to you.
After 6 months: You may be feeling a sense of deep sadness, along with many occurrences of happiness, though if you're feeling neither that is fine too. Feelings beyond the realm of language are quite likely as well.
After 12 months: You may be feeling a sense of deep sadness, along with many occurrences of happiness, though if you're feeling neither that is fine too. Feelings beyond the realm of language are quite likely as well.
After 2 years: You may be feeling a sense of deep sadness, along with many occurrences of happiness, though if you're feeling neither that is fine too. Feelings beyond the realm of language are quite likely as well. You may feel as though you're re-experiencing the loss all over again, other times you may feel afraid that a time may come when you don't think about them every day, because you can feel your life existing without them physically beside you. All, none, and some of these are normal.
Grief is not an affliction, it is a way of life. Stages cannot be prescribed as your grief is as unique as you and the loved one you lost.
The other day I was standing on the beach with Eric, and I felt a story of my past come up and instead of suppressing it as I would usually do, I let myself talk about it. I described fall in NH, how the paths in our neighborhood would be covered with vibrant dead leaves and I'd pile them up and serve pretend food to my mom. And then I broke down crying, realizing that I was utterly terrified that someday I would stop missing her.
Over the past year I have slowly allowed myself to shut my mom out of my public life. I didn't mean to, but talking about her inevitably led to talking about my grief and that made people feel uncomfortable.
So here is my mom:
Her name is Mary Ann Johnson, so yes, my last name is her maiden name. She grew up in Minnesota, a state I had the privilege of living in for a short stint last summer. I meant to bury some of the small items that belonged to her in the state, but I'm bad at enacting my ideas. I also don't have many memories of her from Minnesota, most of them are from Kentucky.
I remember that when I was young she would comfort me when I was sad, and then at least tried to comfort me when I was a teenager and denying comfort was my forte.
I know she liked to dress up when we would go out to see theatre performances, which we attended often because my family is entrenched in theatre. She would put on a necklace and make sure her shoes matched her dress and sometimes dab on a little perfume--to her wrists and her neck. She really liked the honeysuckle perfume that I believe was a present from Kate.
I remember she would sometimes work impossible hours, often 12 hours a day because she needed to be there for her patients--I see this in myself, this need to overwork if it is going to help others, so if you see that in me, thank my mom, it is her.
I remember that because of this she didn't end up cooking from scratch very often, even though she enjoyed it and when she did cook from scratch it was delicious--spotzan, lefsa, monkey bread, banana bread--most of her recipes came from her mother and were kept in little brown boxes in the kitchen. She also loved Oreos; and enjoyed sharing that joy with others such as when she bought Gjon, my foreign exchange brother from Germany, a giant box bigger than his head of Oreos for christmas.
I remember she would call her siblings every Sunday and quite enjoyed sitting on the hammock with Jewels in her lap and pepper under her while she chatted. I picked that up too, but it is now an impossible memory to re-create.
I remember she would send me care packages for every holiday, even St. Patricks' day, and they always included special socks, which is why I now have nearly an entire drawer-full of seasonal socks. She even sent me a care package when I was in NZ and it included a beach ball that was sadly never used as I was there in the winter.
I remember she loved hanging out with her friends, but, like me, she also needed her alone time.
This is not even close to all of her, just the things I draw from the top of my head. I need to start talking about her again. And I don't need pity or a heartfelt "I'm so sorry" I just need you to know her, too.
Mom, tomorrow it will be two years since you left. I know you aren't really gone from me but it still feels like that sometimes. It does still suck hard and I'm still pissed at cancer and wish you were still alive and thriving. But my life is okay, it is full for sure. I am surely floundering about well, as those in our early 20s do--confused and terrified and excited. I do wish you were here to guide me, but you set me on a pretty good path and gave me the tools I needed to be okay long after you passed, so thank you for that. I love you past forever.
"The end of this month is reserved for honoring the dead by many cultures around the world. Our gardens now begin to show us what was believed by the ancient druids to be the closing of the natural cycle of the year." –Seattle Tilth gardening book
To two years of freedom from cancer!-A toast to you.
Monday, October 5, 2015
A Place Called Home
Today I used the dishwasher for the first time in order to
wash all the new kitchenware my roommate and I bought to create a functioning
kitchen. As I was laboriously scrubbing the inside of the cabinets, I poked my
head out at the change in tune the washer was sounding. I had a steaming
waterfall in my kitchen, as all the water used to wash my dishes was now
pouring all over the kitchen floor. I jumped down, scoured my furniture-less
apartment for a rag of some sort, and was able to remedy the situation with
minor finesse.
I am now sitting on the floor, as we still have absolutely
nothing beyond the few kitchen-wares we bought and the clothes I’ve been
trucking with me since April. The weather is cooling and my wardrobe is
becoming more and more inadequate as I wait patiently for the moving truck to
arrive (destined to arrive probably around Oct. 26th). That truck
will deliver some comforts—loveseat, warm clothes, puzzles…. Yet, we’ll still
be out any tables or chairs, a full spice rack, and anything that resembles a
fully furnished apartment.
I arrived last week to my new (actually, very old) apartment
and had to begin my 8 hour workweek the next day. I have had barely any time to
organize everything, get utilities set up, clean the place, and certainly no
time to really relax. Eating has consisted mostly of snacks, throwing food into
my mouth as I move along at a pace that shows no signs of slowing anytime soon.
With all that has been going on I just need to unload how
overwhelmed I am feeling–how incredibly overwhelming happy I’ve felt these past
few crazy hectic days. I feel as though I should feel nothing but stress; yet
everything I’ve been doing has seemed like a dream come true. Some nights I
step onto the back deck and listen to the wind rustling the giant evergreens in
my backyard and can’t believe this life is my real life. I have never felt so
in control of my life… and for so long I haven’t felt like I was anywhere close
to home. But now I am home.
I allowed myself to trust my gut feeling to follow my dreams,
even when those dreams were to stay put, stop traveling for a while. I can tell
with certainty that I have followed the right path that has led me here,
despite the confusion many people express at my wanting to settle for awhile;
they said I was living a dream but at times I felt like I was barely living at
all. My mother’s advice is right again… “the answer” isn’t traveling or getting
married or finding your one true passion (though it could include any and all
of these), “the answer” is following your gut. Stop reading articles on how to
be happier and how to change your life, just start listening to yourself and
certainly stop denying yourself. It may take a lot of wrong turns, but it
you’re paying attention, you’re sure to figure out the direction you should be
trekking. It will almost surely not be easy, but somehow you’ll still persist
because you’ll know you have to. Then you may find yourself running through the
woods of your new home state, looking up at the morning sun rays with tears
running down your laughing face because, oh my god, you didn’t even know you
could ever feel this good again.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
Silly Little Ducks
In honor of their 1 month birthday, I decided to give this little ode:
Ducks! from Kelly Zenn on Vimeo.
Ducks! from Kelly Zenn on Vimeo.
Monday, June 29, 2015
The Dark Side of Farming
My previous post highlighted the sunny days full of harvest, bright colors, and finding plants in among the weeds.
To balance it out, I will now highlight some of the less savory aspects of a farm life....
So this week or so I've racked up my injuries from chickens and ovens and now have cause to renew my tetanus shot. I burned my thumb making a potato bake dinner, was bitten by a broody chicken viciously protecting her eggs, and attacked by a rooster.
The rooster I speak of has been trying to attack me for a couple weeks now, but I've always seen it coming. This time, though, I was bent down petting Potato and he charged at my back. It felt like a ton of bricks had fallen onto my lower back, but luckily I came away with just a cut on my back. That rooster is now dead, after attacking one too many times. Sorry rooster, but on a farm if you anger the farmer it is completely within our power to prepare you for eating. It's the only place I know of that my instincts of killing that which angers me can be acted upon. I guess if I'm being honest with myself the completion of the kill still doesn't feel too good.
I was also working in the barn tidying up the workbench when a cat walked in through the open door to the fish pond. When I looked over, though, it was a sopping wet angry raccoon! My automatic response was flight, and I ran away swiftly all while dreams of being chased by rabid raccoons came rushing back. We now have a trap set, but so far no catch and I am still fearful of the barn.
To balance it out, I will now highlight some of the less savory aspects of a farm life....
So this week or so I've racked up my injuries from chickens and ovens and now have cause to renew my tetanus shot. I burned my thumb making a potato bake dinner, was bitten by a broody chicken viciously protecting her eggs, and attacked by a rooster.
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| Broody hen attack! |
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| Even if this does hurt! |
I was also working in the barn tidying up the workbench when a cat walked in through the open door to the fish pond. When I looked over, though, it was a sopping wet angry raccoon! My automatic response was flight, and I ran away swiftly all while dreams of being chased by rabid raccoons came rushing back. We now have a trap set, but so far no catch and I am still fearful of the barn.
These stories are by no means the only less happy parts of farming, but they are a glimpse. All I ever hear anyone say when I tell them I want to be a farmer is "it's hard!" Trust me, folks, I do know this.
Sunday, June 21, 2015
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
It ain't Christmas, my friends, not for me.
I have been thoroughly enjoying my time at Squash Blossom Farm and have recently been delighting in the bounty of the garden. It is my first time working on a farm during the spring/summer rather than fall/winter and so I can finally experience the long-term fruits of my labors!
It's quite a special feeling walking through the garden seeing your plants thriving; fills you with confidence and admiration.
I have been thoroughly enjoying my time at Squash Blossom Farm and have recently been delighting in the bounty of the garden. It is my first time working on a farm during the spring/summer rather than fall/winter and so I can finally experience the long-term fruits of my labors!
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| The cherries our tree produces are incredibly picturesque, especially when compared with my weeding hand. |
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| Lunchtime class. |
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| Can you find the beets and carrots? |
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| What glory! They can finally see the sun! |
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| Beans we planted roughly 3 weeks ago, growing strong. |
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| Some of our beautiful harvest for the pizza party we had this weekend. (Asparagus and Nasturtiums) |
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| The cabbage I planted at the beginning of my internship. |
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| Brussel sprouts I planted when I first started this internship. |
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| The fire I started to ready the oven for the pizza-party-pizzas. |
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| Lettuce I planted when first I arrived. |
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| The aforementioned tree bearing seemingly endless amounts of beautiful fruits. |
It's quite a special feeling walking through the garden seeing your plants thriving; fills you with confidence and admiration.
I hope all of you are enjoying your own summer bounties on this summer solstice as well! Start preserving those bounties as the days will start to wane again!
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
My mother's light shines through
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| This is Potato. S/he is one of three ducklings I am currently caring for at Squash Blossom Farm and I am utterly smitten. |
Monday, May 11, 2015
Thursday, May 7, 2015
The Visual Side of Things
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| Utah. Taken during my cross-country rd. trip summer '14. |
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| Visiting Michelle and Joe at Yale I was surprised by Ellie and it was wonderful. |
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| Cutting Dusty Miller. Photo by Abby (In all of the photos by Abby I have pneumonia but at the time think it's just a cold.) |
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| Nicole and I about to embark on a wild journey involving fast golf carts and too much Salvia. Photo by Abby |
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| I am making a bouquet because it was part of my job! Photo by Abby |
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| Me and a chicken. Don't worry, we become friends. Photo by Abby |
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| Putting covers back on high tunnels. Not an easy job with too few hands. Photo by Abby |
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| Some of my favorite flowers, Cosmos, behind some Broomcorn. Photo by Abby |
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| Stonehenge with Piers. Feb. '15 |
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| Rd. Trip out west. Hike to Observation Point in Zion National Park, Utah |
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| Nicole and I embarking on a different adventure. This time involving fast golf carts and too many Hydrangeas. |
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| Playing on silks at Aqoatzin's. Photo by Kate |
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| Man in the moon, photo by Kate. |
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| I dated a boy for awhile during the year. He was weird. But also pretty cool. |
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| Nice, France, photo by couchsurfing host, Sid. |
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| Nice, France--dipping our feet in the ocean, photo by Sid. |
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| I have three cool nieces that I got to spend a month with and see Hazel turn 5. |
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| I was able to take awkward family photos with boy I was dating and a couple of my nieces instead of going to a wedding. |
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Ignorance is Easy
Today after work* (read: helping to put in a cement floor
and planting spinach, carrots, and beets… my mouth salivates even now thinking
of the latter) I made it a goal of mine to attain some products I felt I needed
which only amounted to four things: chocolate for long overdue Easter packages,
sunscreen, aloe vera, and body wash. Now, around the time spring arrived and I
started to thaw out of my depression, I made it a larger goal of mine to be
super conscious of how I live my life in order to feel as though I am not just
another sheep being herded toward our extinction. So, before heading out to
Target, my store of choosing while I try to rid myself of a mound of recently
found gift cards, I sat down to do some research. Here’s what I found…
Ignorance is easy. As long as you don’t question the
products you’re using, you can continue living a life in which you go out and
attain anything you want immediately. But once you start to ask: where does my
chocolate come from? What’s in my sunscreen? Your life becomes a whole lot more
complicated. It’s not all that surprising that taking a step back to review the
fast-paced life of purchasing leads to a more “difficult” life. The products
advertised today are made of quick solutions. Chocolate is cheap because those
who work on cocoa farms (often children) aren’t paid(1); sunscreen applies clear
to your skin because zinc oxide (the ingredient that blocks UVA and UVB rays
and leaves a white hue) has been replaced by a slew of harmful chemicals(2). If we
go back a few years, pre industrial revolution, we can assume with evidence
that life was really quite hard. Corporations didn’t gain the power they
did because they made our lives marginally better; they’ve gained their
footholds because our lives were really taxing and we were tired and stressed
with too much on our plate (corps. haven’t seemed to fix that yet….). Companies
mass produced dishwashers and sunscreen and chocolate we could purchase, with
relatively little money and a hell-of-a-lot more ease. A lot of days I’m not
willing to give up that ease. I spent two hours researching ethical chocolate
and non-harmful sunscreens only to reason that all I could do was settle for
buying expensive products online or make my own. By the time I got to aloe vera
I could only muster one search that revealed the gel I usually use is filled
with extra unpronounceable ingredients; so in the end I just crossed one item
off my list–body wash, Dr. Bronners, which for some reason is one of the few
mainstream ethical, sustainable, non-harmful** products out there. I spent nearly three hours trying to buy four items, only to end up buying one; this is not efficient. But I only
have myself to care for and I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have the time to
go hunting for the perfectly certified product if I had a taxing full-time job
like raising a family. It’s not the average consumers fault that they are
buying unethical, non-sustainable, toxic products; they just don’t have the
time or energy to seek out the gems amidst the piles and piles of shit. Also, many consumers are unaware of all that goes into their purchases since marketers are really quite clever.
You may be wondering why I put difficult in quotation marks
up there. Actually, you’re probably not, but I will tell you anyway that the
prescription of the word difficult in that context is not my own. Many of my fellow
product-purchasing humans and the corporations that created them give it such a
fate. To me a difficult life is one in which I watch my mother suffer and die
at age 57 from a cancer very likely caused by the increasing number of
carcinogens in our everyday lives. Difficult is knowing that almost every
chocolate purchase in mainstream American grocery stores perpetuates child slavery in Ghana and the Ivory coast.
These difficulties bog me down and fuel my depression. And I
guess the way to fight that depression is to buy responsibly. So that is what I
must do.
*I work here now. Being back on a farm makes my soul happy.
**Dr. Bronners may have ingredients that irritate sensitive
skin. Not all skin types like all essential oils.
1: http://www.foodispower.org/slavery-chocolate/
2: http://www.ewg.org/2014sunscreen/the-trouble-with-sunscreen-chemicals/
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Bus Kings and the Shrubbidi Dub Dubs
I am proud of this video on my behalf, on behalf of all my road trip companions, and especially on behalf of Abby Potter, main videographer, photographer, editor.
I'm proud of this too... but in a different way.
Friday, February 6, 2015
Hitch-hiking Tips*
*I would not call myself an experienced hitch-hiker, as I have only hitched three days, but I have already travelled many KM, had many adventures, and gained much knowledge because of those three days.
–Try it. I'm aware that from the time we were young everyone and their aunt told you not to hitch-hike because if you did you would end up dead. While this is a possibility, as it is a possibility anytime you put your trust in people you've only just met (WWOOF, couch-surfing, hanging out with new people in a park...), I believe it is not as inevitable as we've been led to believe. Just, be aware of your gut and make smart decisions. You don't have to get in a car just because it stops, you still get to assess the situation. Hitch-hike during the day. And if you can, hitch with a friend. Even if you just have a short distance to go, hitch for the experience... just once to feel the exhilaration from human kindness and to meet some cool folks.
––Don't hitch-hike if you really need to get the morning after pill and you're in Italy where you need a prescription for it, and so you need to head to France or Switzerland for at least a couple hours. Hitch-hiking can take time, so if anything is time-sensitive, best not to rely on it. But, right outside the train station in Chiasso, Switzerland there are many pharmacies, but you'll have to take it in front of the pharmacist and attempt to answer questions about your sex life through a language barrier. Just go ahead and write that one down in "stories you'll tell about the stupid shit you did when you were younger."
––Hitch during the day. It is safer and much more pleasant to wait for rides in the sunlight.
––Don't be shy, especially if you're at a gas station. Ask people where they're going, as you never know... they could be going nearly the full 400 KM to Bordeaux that you need to traverse. Give yourself the chance to be lucky.
––Don't be passive. Apparently if you simply stand on the side with your thumb out and a sign, it takes much longer to be picked up than if you seem excited about the prospect of getting a ride. You may also want to invest in a duck hat and/or Mandolin.
––Give up at least 1.5 hours before the sun goes down, if it is winter and it is cold. You probably need that sunlight to find your way to a plan B (train station, hostel, cafe, airport).
––Have a plan B, and figure out how much time you need to enact that plan B. For example, if you're trying to go to Nice, France from Milan, Italy, remember that trains stopping running at night.
––If you are walking to your plan B and you're cold and you don't really know where (in Genova) you are, get on a city bus! They're going somewhere, eh? If you're feeling particularly desperate because the sun is gone and you don't know much of anything about where you are, ask some passengers where the bus goes and if they know how to get to the train station. They may just offer to lead you to the station.
––Have a sleeping bag handy if you're not willing to spend extra money for lodging or taxis or other extra safeties in case hitching doesn't work. Sleeping in a train station on the border of Italy and France is much nicer if you have a sleeping bag.
––Figure out the best spot to begin hitching from. If you aren't in a good spot, you will not likely get picked up. Sometimes, though, if you're in a bad spot, some nice person may offer you a ride to a better hitching spot and may even help you ask for rides at a gas station and give you cookies.
––The closer you get to your final destination, the easier it is to get rides. It may do you well to learn the names of the cities between your departure and your destination city, maybe even put name of a city that is closer by on your sign. The less excuses you give people to not pick you up, the more likely they will be to stop. Also, if someone offers to drive you 60 or so KM but aren't going the full way, certainly consider accepting. The closer you get the better!
––Try to trust humanity a bit, even when things seem not to be working out. Often it isn't until you lose all hope that you'll watch that car slow down and ask where you're headed. They may only be able to take you 20 KM, but they'll tell you all about the landscape as you go (Pyranees to the west, Alps to the East, and vineyards vineyards vineyards ?!).
––Yes, you can almost definitely fit into that car. Yes, even with a giant backpack and a suitcase and a Mandolin and a shoulder bag.
––When train-hopping, make friends with crazy Italian ladies who help sneak you off the train after you've been caught without a ticket. She may even be able to tell you which bus to take to get to the Autoroute (highway) and give you delicious Italian almond dessert.
––If a car stops for you as you are walking down the side of the road and you don't have your thumb out, it is not, then, your fault if a biker runs into said stopped car and breaks the back windshield with his head. It's okay to scream if that happens, it is, indeed, very alarming. Offering water to the biker is a positive thing to do in such a situation, even though you don't speak Italian nor they English. Luckily, (hopefully) the owner of the car will get out and make sure the biker is alright (which he is, sans the few cuts on his face... thank god for helmets) and then still give you a ride to the autoroute. If all turns out okay in the end, allow yourself to laugh about it; that was a really crazy thing that just happened.
P.S. These tips may not be the best ones to follow, they're actually just my experiences traveling Europe (juuuuust in case you couldn't tell). It is probably best to do some of your own research about hitching before doing so, certainly do more than I did, which was none.
Enjoy the road!
–Try it. I'm aware that from the time we were young everyone and their aunt told you not to hitch-hike because if you did you would end up dead. While this is a possibility, as it is a possibility anytime you put your trust in people you've only just met (WWOOF, couch-surfing, hanging out with new people in a park...), I believe it is not as inevitable as we've been led to believe. Just, be aware of your gut and make smart decisions. You don't have to get in a car just because it stops, you still get to assess the situation. Hitch-hike during the day. And if you can, hitch with a friend. Even if you just have a short distance to go, hitch for the experience... just once to feel the exhilaration from human kindness and to meet some cool folks.
––Don't hitch-hike if you really need to get the morning after pill and you're in Italy where you need a prescription for it, and so you need to head to France or Switzerland for at least a couple hours. Hitch-hiking can take time, so if anything is time-sensitive, best not to rely on it. But, right outside the train station in Chiasso, Switzerland there are many pharmacies, but you'll have to take it in front of the pharmacist and attempt to answer questions about your sex life through a language barrier. Just go ahead and write that one down in "stories you'll tell about the stupid shit you did when you were younger."
––Hitch during the day. It is safer and much more pleasant to wait for rides in the sunlight.
––Don't be shy, especially if you're at a gas station. Ask people where they're going, as you never know... they could be going nearly the full 400 KM to Bordeaux that you need to traverse. Give yourself the chance to be lucky.
––Don't be passive. Apparently if you simply stand on the side with your thumb out and a sign, it takes much longer to be picked up than if you seem excited about the prospect of getting a ride. You may also want to invest in a duck hat and/or Mandolin.
––Give up at least 1.5 hours before the sun goes down, if it is winter and it is cold. You probably need that sunlight to find your way to a plan B (train station, hostel, cafe, airport).
––Have a plan B, and figure out how much time you need to enact that plan B. For example, if you're trying to go to Nice, France from Milan, Italy, remember that trains stopping running at night.
––If you are walking to your plan B and you're cold and you don't really know where (in Genova) you are, get on a city bus! They're going somewhere, eh? If you're feeling particularly desperate because the sun is gone and you don't know much of anything about where you are, ask some passengers where the bus goes and if they know how to get to the train station. They may just offer to lead you to the station.
––Have a sleeping bag handy if you're not willing to spend extra money for lodging or taxis or other extra safeties in case hitching doesn't work. Sleeping in a train station on the border of Italy and France is much nicer if you have a sleeping bag.
––Figure out the best spot to begin hitching from. If you aren't in a good spot, you will not likely get picked up. Sometimes, though, if you're in a bad spot, some nice person may offer you a ride to a better hitching spot and may even help you ask for rides at a gas station and give you cookies.
––The closer you get to your final destination, the easier it is to get rides. It may do you well to learn the names of the cities between your departure and your destination city, maybe even put name of a city that is closer by on your sign. The less excuses you give people to not pick you up, the more likely they will be to stop. Also, if someone offers to drive you 60 or so KM but aren't going the full way, certainly consider accepting. The closer you get the better!
––Try to trust humanity a bit, even when things seem not to be working out. Often it isn't until you lose all hope that you'll watch that car slow down and ask where you're headed. They may only be able to take you 20 KM, but they'll tell you all about the landscape as you go (Pyranees to the west, Alps to the East, and vineyards vineyards vineyards ?!).
––Yes, you can almost definitely fit into that car. Yes, even with a giant backpack and a suitcase and a Mandolin and a shoulder bag.
––When train-hopping, make friends with crazy Italian ladies who help sneak you off the train after you've been caught without a ticket. She may even be able to tell you which bus to take to get to the Autoroute (highway) and give you delicious Italian almond dessert.
––If a car stops for you as you are walking down the side of the road and you don't have your thumb out, it is not, then, your fault if a biker runs into said stopped car and breaks the back windshield with his head. It's okay to scream if that happens, it is, indeed, very alarming. Offering water to the biker is a positive thing to do in such a situation, even though you don't speak Italian nor they English. Luckily, (hopefully) the owner of the car will get out and make sure the biker is alright (which he is, sans the few cuts on his face... thank god for helmets) and then still give you a ride to the autoroute. If all turns out okay in the end, allow yourself to laugh about it; that was a really crazy thing that just happened.
P.S. These tips may not be the best ones to follow, they're actually just my experiences traveling Europe (juuuuust in case you couldn't tell). It is probably best to do some of your own research about hitching before doing so, certainly do more than I did, which was none.
Enjoy the road!
 |
| (Autostop means hitch-hike. Good spot, eh?) |
Friday, January 23, 2015
Trompin' through Europe
From our many travels and adventures, I am exhausted. But, I wanted to give a shout out to Athens--that wonderful city of Greece that welcomed us with warm rays and fantastic Couch surfing adventures. Who knew that simply being around musical artsy folks could make me feel so swell, walking down the street in a light jacket belting song after song. Before I would have been much too shy and humble. This is much more fun.
So, Athens, the city I never really saw but felt much of, I give you thanks for the rejuvenating warm respite. And for the ability to teach folks that, yes, it is perfectly acceptable to build a doghouse out of found wood while wearing an old bridesmaid's dress.
Now, I've met Italia; and with one taste of gelato have fallen in love. This and the hospitality and amazing food given by our Milano couch surfer host. A veal and yellow rice dish... I swear I have never had meat so tender!
Oh! And busking (sorta) as a first. The joys of Europe are unfolding quickly now. If I had a camera, I could show you, but alas, you'll have to wait for the video compilation.... which truly may never arrive.
Vicenza tomorrow. Goodnight!
Busking in Milan from Kelly Zenn on Vimeo.
EDIT: Some pictures for your pleasure.
So, Athens, the city I never really saw but felt much of, I give you thanks for the rejuvenating warm respite. And for the ability to teach folks that, yes, it is perfectly acceptable to build a doghouse out of found wood while wearing an old bridesmaid's dress.
 |
| That is precisely what is happening here. |
Now, I've met Italia; and with one taste of gelato have fallen in love. This and the hospitality and amazing food given by our Milano couch surfer host. A veal and yellow rice dish... I swear I have never had meat so tender!
Oh! And busking (sorta) as a first. The joys of Europe are unfolding quickly now. If I had a camera, I could show you, but alas, you'll have to wait for the video compilation.... which truly may never arrive.
Vicenza tomorrow. Goodnight!
Busking in Milan from Kelly Zenn on Vimeo.
EDIT: Some pictures for your pleasure.
 |
| Maiya turned bird-lady. |
 |
| Gelato time. Photo by Maiya. |
 |
| Venice canal. Such an enchanting city. Photo by: Maiya |
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Teşekkürler, Türkiye
Somehow it has been more than three weeks since I left the USA. As usual I have had a hard time noticing the time pass and have found myself with very few written memories of Turkey and now I have moved onto to greener pastures (literally) in Greece.
After Emily's departure early on the 19th it felt like the end of an era, yet the beginning of a grand new one as well. At that point I was beginning to go a little crazy from spending so much time in a city... if there's one thing I've learned this year, it is that I am in no way a city person. To visit is nice, but in order to do almost anything I must pay and this wallet of mine ain't got much to give. That, and going outside never really feels like outside. I think I need to touch dirt in order to feel revitalized... perhaps if I just carried around a bag of dirt I would be okay.
I met up with my college friend, Maiya and after attempting to eat a meal of cheap foodstuffs from the grocery with a sea of cats scrambling around us to get at the delicacy that is 50 cent bologna, we joined the Istanbul couchsurfing community and stayed with Kadir and his flatmates near Istanbul university. It was a great experience as they were very hospitable and took us out for turkish coffee and gave us lentil soup and tasty bread (when traveling, you will no doubt win my heart if you give me food) and gave us a nice big comfy bed to sleep in. It was also great to finally get out of the hostel Emily and I had been living in for the majority of our stay. While it was a great place, it began to feel a bit too claustrophobic and I was craving some peace from the sort of chaotic involvement of constant new travelers and interesting experiences with the hostel staff... mainly the Turkish boy I dated for a short period of time who quickly decided we should be together forever.
After a simple flight on Aegean airlines (I highly recommend) for 40 bucks, we arrived in Greece and are currently staying with Pheobus, another generous couchsurfer who has eased away all my weariness from traveling using a humble abode, a pull-out couch, tasty home-cooked food, amazing music, a shower, and great company. There is also another couch-surfer here from Germany named Niels and for the time-being we are a tiny family of new-found friends and it feels good to relax into such a situation. Greece is warm and smells so sweet. I will return. Tomorrow morning, though, we leave for Milan.
Some highlights of the trip:
-Watching nearly 100 balloons take off in Cappadocia early in the AM.
-Attending a liturgy at the Ecumenical Patriarchate and kissing the Patriarch's hand when accepting the blessed bread.
-Watching the sunset atop a mountain of graves in Eyup... the mecca of sorts in Turkey.
-Going muddin' in the countryside of Cappadocia on ATVs
-Being given tea and a map from a smart car on a snowy day when we were lost looking for the Hammam.
-The Hammam (Turkish bath).
-The numerous unplanned experiences provided by the people of Turkey.
-McDonalds in Turkey.
-Buying a half kilo of cat food and feeding the cats of Istanbul, and in doing so, learning that I was not the only one to care for the strays, in fact the entire city seems to care for them. I knew I liked the place!
-Wine tasting in Cappadocia
-Cappadocia
-The incredible hospitality we have been given so far, in Istanbul, Cappadocia, and Greece. It has truly been an amazing journey so far, of course with its ups and downs and it tuckers me out every day, but the universe keeps surprising in mostly positive ways and this was my main prayer at the beginning of the journey–to be thrown into the unexpected and come out feeling revitalized.
I have not felt full since my mother died, but this is helping to fill me up; I am starting to be able to find a path again, feeling the ground beneath my feet and trusting I will not fall through.
After Emily's departure early on the 19th it felt like the end of an era, yet the beginning of a grand new one as well. At that point I was beginning to go a little crazy from spending so much time in a city... if there's one thing I've learned this year, it is that I am in no way a city person. To visit is nice, but in order to do almost anything I must pay and this wallet of mine ain't got much to give. That, and going outside never really feels like outside. I think I need to touch dirt in order to feel revitalized... perhaps if I just carried around a bag of dirt I would be okay.
I met up with my college friend, Maiya and after attempting to eat a meal of cheap foodstuffs from the grocery with a sea of cats scrambling around us to get at the delicacy that is 50 cent bologna, we joined the Istanbul couchsurfing community and stayed with Kadir and his flatmates near Istanbul university. It was a great experience as they were very hospitable and took us out for turkish coffee and gave us lentil soup and tasty bread (when traveling, you will no doubt win my heart if you give me food) and gave us a nice big comfy bed to sleep in. It was also great to finally get out of the hostel Emily and I had been living in for the majority of our stay. While it was a great place, it began to feel a bit too claustrophobic and I was craving some peace from the sort of chaotic involvement of constant new travelers and interesting experiences with the hostel staff... mainly the Turkish boy I dated for a short period of time who quickly decided we should be together forever.
After a simple flight on Aegean airlines (I highly recommend) for 40 bucks, we arrived in Greece and are currently staying with Pheobus, another generous couchsurfer who has eased away all my weariness from traveling using a humble abode, a pull-out couch, tasty home-cooked food, amazing music, a shower, and great company. There is also another couch-surfer here from Germany named Niels and for the time-being we are a tiny family of new-found friends and it feels good to relax into such a situation. Greece is warm and smells so sweet. I will return. Tomorrow morning, though, we leave for Milan.
Some highlights of the trip:
 |
| Emily and I selfying in Cappadocia, land of the fairy towers. |
 |
| Turkish delight is so freaking delightful. |
 |
| Eating street bread in Sultanahmet Sq. Behind me is the Blue Mosque. |
 |
| Echumenical Patriarchate, the vatican equivalent (kinda) to Greek Orthodoxy. |
 |
| Eyup. AKA Death Mountain. A large hill with 100s of graves. I felt so blessed to stumble upon it. |
-Watching nearly 100 balloons take off in Cappadocia early in the AM.
-Attending a liturgy at the Ecumenical Patriarchate and kissing the Patriarch's hand when accepting the blessed bread.
-Watching the sunset atop a mountain of graves in Eyup... the mecca of sorts in Turkey.
-Going muddin' in the countryside of Cappadocia on ATVs
-Being given tea and a map from a smart car on a snowy day when we were lost looking for the Hammam.
-The Hammam (Turkish bath).
-The numerous unplanned experiences provided by the people of Turkey.
-McDonalds in Turkey.
-Buying a half kilo of cat food and feeding the cats of Istanbul, and in doing so, learning that I was not the only one to care for the strays, in fact the entire city seems to care for them. I knew I liked the place!
-Wine tasting in Cappadocia
-Cappadocia
-The incredible hospitality we have been given so far, in Istanbul, Cappadocia, and Greece. It has truly been an amazing journey so far, of course with its ups and downs and it tuckers me out every day, but the universe keeps surprising in mostly positive ways and this was my main prayer at the beginning of the journey–to be thrown into the unexpected and come out feeling revitalized.
I have not felt full since my mother died, but this is helping to fill me up; I am starting to be able to find a path again, feeling the ground beneath my feet and trusting I will not fall through.
Friday, January 2, 2015
It's good to be back...
... out exploring the rest of the world.
I am quite sleep deprived, so bare with me as we begin our journey to Istanbul, Turkey.
This country has drawn me to it for a couple years now, I can't say why as I know almost nothing of Turkey, but I don't usually question such things. While I'm not big on cities, I can tell that Istanbul is already gripping my heart. The cobblestone streets and alleys that take you to wondrous spots around every corner (an art museum here, a marbling class there...), the window shopping for food (especially baklava), the breathtaking buildings dating back to ancient times, the call to prayer throughout the day, the prevalence of tea, and of course the people are all invigorating my soul.
After Emily and I managed to get into the city by tram–which included an extended amount of time attempting to get an istanbulkart, at which point a man just took the 20 TLY I was holding, came back with two tens and just did it for me–we got off at the closest station to our hostel, Sultanahmet Sq. and just sat down, very non-fussed that we had no idea of how to proceed in finding Cheers hostel. A man came up to us and asked if we needed help, and we showed him the address and he just walked us to it, making friendly conversation along the way. While he may have been a scammer, as he asked us if we wanted him to show us around free of charge (an hour later, as we were walking around, a second man asked us the same thing), he was extremely helpful and made us feel welcome in the city, ultimately, we had no drawbacks from the encounter. As soon as we entered our hostel we were made to feel very welcome as well, though at this point I was quite overwhelmed and overly tired and was at the "I just want to curl up into a ball" state, but as usual, check in was later in the day. To kill some time we walked around stumbling upon amazing art, stray cats, and stray art of cats until our hostel was free to check into.
Everyone at Cheers is exuberant and ready to make sure you have a great time! We were given multiple cups of tea and therefore I had my first taste of apple tea and fell in love. And then one of the hostel owners came at me without warning with a forkful of homemade cake, I loved it so much he gave us an entire piece.
"What is this? It's so good!"
"It is love!"
Oh, I do not doubt it. That cake was overflowing with absolutely scrumptious love.
After a couple showers and some good downtime, we got ready to head to dinner, at which point our roommates showed up, asking if we wanted beer as they just got an entire keg. Certainly sounds good to me! So we headed up to the rooftop terrace with the fireplace, the bar, and the view of the Hagia Sophia to hang out. The bartender now calls me his sister and I am to call him uncle and he's declared I get free beer. And they say we need to stay at cheers while we're in the city. To go elsewhere would be absolutely silly! We then went out to dinner with the girl who also stays in our room, watched everyone else to figure out the tipping etiquette, and I'm now struggling to keep myself in bed while I hear the bar upstairs raging and I know there are good times to be had, but I know I need to sleep more, and the bar will be there tomorrow.
For now, I say ciao,
much love from Turkey,
Kelly (& Emily)
I am quite sleep deprived, so bare with me as we begin our journey to Istanbul, Turkey.
This country has drawn me to it for a couple years now, I can't say why as I know almost nothing of Turkey, but I don't usually question such things. While I'm not big on cities, I can tell that Istanbul is already gripping my heart. The cobblestone streets and alleys that take you to wondrous spots around every corner (an art museum here, a marbling class there...), the window shopping for food (especially baklava), the breathtaking buildings dating back to ancient times, the call to prayer throughout the day, the prevalence of tea, and of course the people are all invigorating my soul.
After Emily and I managed to get into the city by tram–which included an extended amount of time attempting to get an istanbulkart, at which point a man just took the 20 TLY I was holding, came back with two tens and just did it for me–we got off at the closest station to our hostel, Sultanahmet Sq. and just sat down, very non-fussed that we had no idea of how to proceed in finding Cheers hostel. A man came up to us and asked if we needed help, and we showed him the address and he just walked us to it, making friendly conversation along the way. While he may have been a scammer, as he asked us if we wanted him to show us around free of charge (an hour later, as we were walking around, a second man asked us the same thing), he was extremely helpful and made us feel welcome in the city, ultimately, we had no drawbacks from the encounter. As soon as we entered our hostel we were made to feel very welcome as well, though at this point I was quite overwhelmed and overly tired and was at the "I just want to curl up into a ball" state, but as usual, check in was later in the day. To kill some time we walked around stumbling upon amazing art, stray cats, and stray art of cats until our hostel was free to check into.
Everyone at Cheers is exuberant and ready to make sure you have a great time! We were given multiple cups of tea and therefore I had my first taste of apple tea and fell in love. And then one of the hostel owners came at me without warning with a forkful of homemade cake, I loved it so much he gave us an entire piece.
"What is this? It's so good!"
"It is love!"
Oh, I do not doubt it. That cake was overflowing with absolutely scrumptious love.
After a couple showers and some good downtime, we got ready to head to dinner, at which point our roommates showed up, asking if we wanted beer as they just got an entire keg. Certainly sounds good to me! So we headed up to the rooftop terrace with the fireplace, the bar, and the view of the Hagia Sophia to hang out. The bartender now calls me his sister and I am to call him uncle and he's declared I get free beer. And they say we need to stay at cheers while we're in the city. To go elsewhere would be absolutely silly! We then went out to dinner with the girl who also stays in our room, watched everyone else to figure out the tipping etiquette, and I'm now struggling to keep myself in bed while I hear the bar upstairs raging and I know there are good times to be had, but I know I need to sleep more, and the bar will be there tomorrow.
For now, I say ciao,
much love from Turkey,
Kelly (& Emily)
Thursday, January 1, 2015
A cold Toronto adventure
I'm currently in the Toronto airport with Emily, clacking away on these iPads that have been provided for all flyers during their wait. It's been quite a ride so far, and we're still in North America!
Somehow, us country ladies, managed to figure out the hour or so voyage on public transit to get into the city and even more amazingly managed to find the core of the action 5 minutes before midnight simply by running with all the others. Follow the crowds, be a sheep, be rewarded by a grand fireworks display to say fuck you to 2014 and hey-yo to hopeful 2015 (we were punished too by the crowds. Neither Emily or I could breathe. Bracing ourselves as best we could against the crushing hoards we barely had enough breath to count down the new year).
The first four or so hours of 2015 were cold, mildly frustrating, but ultimately rewarding and grande as we walked all over trying to find a place to sleep in -9 degree C weather to no avail. Every place was booked, but we found refuge in Denny's and we're eventually directed to the largest hotel in the city... "If anyone has rooms, it's them."
We walked in and we're immediately asked if we had wristbands. I was so confused I just jerked away from the man staring at my wrist and said no. But Emily came to the rescue and asked important questions such as... Wtf do we do with no place to stay at 3 in the morning?
Answer: go back to the subway, take it to the outskirts of the city and hail a cab... Hopefully. But the subways might stop running and there may be no cabs.
Fate would have it, we made the last train, and even the last bus to the airport which were perhaps the most interesting rides of my life. Folks in Toronto aren't like New Yorkers, they don't have personal bubble issues and instead invite you to dance with them and other strangers on the train because no one can be unhappy on the first of the New Year. At least no Canadians.
We made it back to this lovely lovely airport with benches WITHOUT armrests and no loud announcements. We hit the sack around 5 am and roused about noon. All in all, an extremely successful and wonderful New Years, I'd say.
I like these folks of Toronto... They seem friendly, approachable, wild, and seem to give not nearly as many shits as my fellow Americans, less high strung. I know it was New Years, but the spirit didn't seem as strained to ENJOY THE NEW YEAR OR MU LIFE SUCKS! Also I was able to give lots and lots of fist pounds.
Bonus: all public TCC transit (buses and subways) were free all night.
Not a bad beginning, eh?
T-1hr till boarding to Istanbul
C'mon, universe, whatcha got in store this time?
Much love,
Enjoy the fresh start,
Kelly (& Emily)
Somehow, us country ladies, managed to figure out the hour or so voyage on public transit to get into the city and even more amazingly managed to find the core of the action 5 minutes before midnight simply by running with all the others. Follow the crowds, be a sheep, be rewarded by a grand fireworks display to say fuck you to 2014 and hey-yo to hopeful 2015 (we were punished too by the crowds. Neither Emily or I could breathe. Bracing ourselves as best we could against the crushing hoards we barely had enough breath to count down the new year).
The first four or so hours of 2015 were cold, mildly frustrating, but ultimately rewarding and grande as we walked all over trying to find a place to sleep in -9 degree C weather to no avail. Every place was booked, but we found refuge in Denny's and we're eventually directed to the largest hotel in the city... "If anyone has rooms, it's them."
We walked in and we're immediately asked if we had wristbands. I was so confused I just jerked away from the man staring at my wrist and said no. But Emily came to the rescue and asked important questions such as... Wtf do we do with no place to stay at 3 in the morning?
Answer: go back to the subway, take it to the outskirts of the city and hail a cab... Hopefully. But the subways might stop running and there may be no cabs.
Fate would have it, we made the last train, and even the last bus to the airport which were perhaps the most interesting rides of my life. Folks in Toronto aren't like New Yorkers, they don't have personal bubble issues and instead invite you to dance with them and other strangers on the train because no one can be unhappy on the first of the New Year. At least no Canadians.
We made it back to this lovely lovely airport with benches WITHOUT armrests and no loud announcements. We hit the sack around 5 am and roused about noon. All in all, an extremely successful and wonderful New Years, I'd say.
I like these folks of Toronto... They seem friendly, approachable, wild, and seem to give not nearly as many shits as my fellow Americans, less high strung. I know it was New Years, but the spirit didn't seem as strained to ENJOY THE NEW YEAR OR MU LIFE SUCKS! Also I was able to give lots and lots of fist pounds.
Bonus: all public TCC transit (buses and subways) were free all night.
Not a bad beginning, eh?
T-1hr till boarding to Istanbul
C'mon, universe, whatcha got in store this time?
Much love,
Enjoy the fresh start,
Kelly (& Emily)
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