Who Is Buenos Aires?

If Buenos Aires were a person, who would it be?

I think Buenos Aires is the lover you had, before you got married, who was exciting and romantic, but so fucked up you knew you wouldn't marry her.

She's sophisticated and artistic: She introduced you to a lot of new things: mate, closed-door restaurants, the surrealistic short stories of Cortazar.

She's exciting: She took you to clubs where you danced until 7AM, and then went out to breakfast afterward. She has a party to go to every night if she wants, and with a few text messages can wrangle up an impromptu gathering. She loves sex.

Work is a means to an end: She has a job which just pays the bills. Always just pays the bills. She works hard, but when work is over, she leaves it behind and looks for ways to enjoy life, because she knows that her work will not get her anywhere in the long-term.

She's fading: She's not in her "first youth," as they say, and a bit saggy around the edges. She smokes. She knows she has to quit, but not quite yet.

She can't get her shit together: "What happened? The electricity got turned off? Oh- I must have forgotten to pay the bill. Light some candles." She puts a bucket on the floor when the roof leaks, and never gets around to getting it fixed.

She's neurotic: She talks over every aspect of your relationship with her therapist.

She's not faithful.

You adore her. You have a wonderful, passionate time together. But she's not for a long-term commitment. At least, if she is to remain in your life, it must be between periods of sanity.

Meanwhile: "Open another bottle of champagne, darling. And dim the lights. It makes me look younger."

Skype Lesson with Mom

Mom: I have an invitation to add someone to my list.

Me: Who?

Mom: It says "Assim." Maybe it's DJ. I'll say yes.

*click*

Me: No! Don't accept invitations from strangers!

*Skype Ring on her computer*

Me: Don't answer that!

*click*

Assim: Hello?... Anyone there? Turn on your video!

Mom: Wrong number! How do I hang up?

Assim: Hello?... Hello? ...Turn on your video!

Me: Click on the "Hang Up" button, and then close Skype. I'll talk you through taking him off your list later.

*click............... click*

Mom: I thought it might be DJ.

Me: Mom, his name was Assim.

Mom: I don't know..... I just clicked the wrong thing, I guess.

Me: You can't accept invitations from strangers, Mom.

Mom: Well- I would have liked to see the expression on his face when he sees he called an old lady!

Me: No you don't. It might not have been his face.

Mom: Oh, dear.

Buses and Cars

I'm so excited that we will be renting a car on Friday for the weekend. We tried to rent a car last weekend, but we didn't plan ahead of time, and every car agency was fully booked. (why had we imagined there would be cars waiting for us for the choosing?)

So far, we have been getting around by bus, which is not bad, just a bit inconvenient, since we are about 24 kilometers outside the city center. And the bus stop is about 1/4 mile from the cabin down a steep hill. Not so bad if the weather is nice, but the weather has NOT been cooperating lately, and lugging groceries up the hill in the cold wind and rain is not too fun.

This will be the first time we will drive in Argentina. We don't need to drive in Buenos Aires, and I really wouldn't want to anyway, because the traffic is crazy. But it's a bit more sane up here in the mountains, and so it shouldn't be too stressful.

More than anything, I look forward to the freedom of being propelled through space and time by our OWN POWER. Being dependent on others to move you has a kind of effect on one's psychology, I think. In Buenos Aires, I don't really feel it, because there are so many taxis, buses, subways, remises- plenty of ways to get around, and they are not prohibitively expensive for me. I always feel I have the power to get where I want when I want (barring city flooding or protests, of course.)

But here, taking a taxi from the center of Bariloche to our cabin is $70 pesos- a little too pricey for a daily ride. And renting a car for two months is expensive as well. Our bikes are fine for little trips to the local convenience market, but we can't take the laundry or carry a lot of groceries. And biking all the way to town is too far to be convenient. So we've been dependent on the bus.

If I'm not worried about time, I actually like taking the bus- I like watching the variety of people. Moms with babies, workers sleeping on their way home from a hard day's work, tourists trying to figure out which stop to get off, teenagers stealing kisses. I love the way old ladies get on, fix their eyes on someone, and tell them to get out so they can sit down. Sometimes the bus gets so crowded, people are crammed together like sardines; it hurtles down a curvy mountain road faster than it should, and everyone goes about their lives, chatting, sleeping, flirting, thinking. I get this feeling like we're all in this together- whatever THIS is. Life? It's a reminder that I share this world with all kids of people-- something you forget when you are isolated in your own car all the time.

Nevertheless, I'm excited to have a car for the weekend. To go where and when we want, stop where we want, fill the car up with food, and not have to carry groceries up the hill. The only drag is that it's a manual transmission, which I have never learned to master.

So I'm dependent on Rob's driving. Ah, well. Independence is relative, isn't it?

Bariloche Impressions

We took the 24-hour bus trip to Bariloche from Buenos Aires, and I have to say, I loved it. Yes, it's long, but we got seats that fold all the way back into a bed, and they serve food and drink. I actually appreciated the time to see the scenery (mostly flat pampas with cows)and unwind. In the past few weeks before this two month trip, we were dealing with immigration issues, a lawsuit against our building, finding someone to look after our apartment, etc., so it was nice to have the time to unwind. Going back, we might choose to fly, but I'm glad I did the bus trip at least once. It also gave me a sense of the scale of the vastness of the country. Argentina is huge!

Bariloche is like a little Swiss village in at the base of the Andes. It's beautiful, next to lake Nahuel Huapi, with stunning views all over the place. And really Swiss-like. They take advantage of this- you can get your picture taken with a St. Bernard, eat fondue, buy chocolate at one of the numerous chocolate-makers.

BUT- and this is a big but- this is where the Swiss similarity ends. We're still in South America, as we discovered when taking the bus from the little cabin we rented into town. No one knows how much it is, the stops on one side of the road are not marked, and except for "every twenty minutes" there is no timetable. Not that I care that much-- but I have a feeling that this very imprecise attitude towards transportation doesn't exist in Switzerland.





The scenery is absolutely gorgeous. We haven't been out much yet to explore the surrounding area, as we've been busy settling in and celebrating Christmas, but we will be exploring over the next several weeks by bicycle, bus, etc.

An Interview with Jill Greenberg

Jill writes the blog First World White Girl and lives in Buenos Aires.

How did you decide to come to Buenos Aires?

I ended up here by accident. In 2008, I quit my job and decided to take a three-month sabbatical and travel in South America. I decided to start here in BsAs and lived here for about a month and a half before traveling around. I returned a few months later, lived her for six months and jut got back a couple of weeks ago after spending the North American summer traveling in the US and in Colombia.

How long do you plan on staying?
I’ve become sort of a snowbird, so probably until it gets cold.

How is your Spanish? How important do you think it is to learn Spanish here? And how did you go about it?

I didn’t speak really speak Spanish when I first came to Latin America a year and a half ago, but now my Spanish is pretty solid. I am working on my second magazine piece where I have conducted all the interviews in Spanish, which was not easy but it gives me the feeling like, yeah… I finally speak Spanish. Or at least totally understand it.

I love language in general and was super motivated, so I didn’t have too hard of a time picking it up. Since I have been in BsAs, I have lived in houses where I had to speak Spanish and I make it a point to have friends who don’t really speak English or are willing to speak Spanish with me, which is key. I took classes for a while here and will probably get back to it eventually. When I am in the U.S., I always have a Spanish tutor and keep up by reading books or the papers in Spanish. Even watching telenovelas while doing the elliptical helps.

I think it makes a huge difference if you speak the language. There are more things and people accessible to you and nuances that you just can’t catch without it. My Spanish is stronger than when I lived here earlier in the year (because I spent about two and a half months in Colombia) and I feel like I am experiencing and seeing things more deeply because of it.

You write a lot about the cultural differences between North and South America as they affect women. What do you think are the biggest cultural differences in how women are treated here vs. the States?

Men here do lovely things, like open doors for you. Men here also do sketchy things, like ask you to go out with them even if they are married or have a girlfriend. I used to get annoyed about men saying random things to me on the street about how I look, but now I sort of find it charming. I don’t think it comes from a place of something demeaning; in this culture it is a compliment of sorts. Or maybe that’s my coping mechanism talking.

Have you been treated differently? Or does your status as a foreigner leave you somewhat immune from cultural expectations?

I think generally people are more forgiving to a foreigner. If I say or do something that is unusual, they just think, “Oh, she’s a foreigner.” I tried to think of something specific that I have done, but I can’t. BsAs is a pretty cosmopolitan city, so it’s not such a big deal here – people are used to foreigners, particularly North Americans since there are so many of us living here.

All cultural differences have trade-offs. There are things about South America that irk me, but some traditions or cultural norms that have a positive influence. What customs or norms do you find positive?

I love that people kiss hello and goodbye. Just love it. I find myself doing this everywhere and people think I am nuts. Also, people are loud here and as a loud person, it’s nice to be in similar company.

What misconceptions do you think North Americans have about Buenos Aires? About South America in general?

I think most Americans lump it all together. They think it’s all unsafe, dirty and scary. I’ve blogged about this before – there are plenty of cities in the US that are sketchier than many here in South America.

When I went to Colombia, everyone I know was freaked out. They were like, Colombia, really? But I didn’t have any problems at all there and found that people went out of their way to show me how hospitable and safe it was. The same when I was in Cuba – people were incredibly friendly and open.

Does the city get to you sometimes? If so, what keeps you going?

Oh yeah. I am city girl through and through, but sometimes it is too loud, too crowded and too dirty. I try to get out every couple of months by traveling. On a more regular basis, I ride my bike everywhere and if you avoid rush hour and stay to the northern parts of the city, it is quite lovely. I also love to swim and go swimming on a regular basis – the pool is a great place for some peace and quiet.

I see from your blog that you are a HUGE Mets fan. Have you become a fan of any Argentine sports teams?

Nah. I occasionally watch soccer when everyone else is, but baseball is my one and only sport. I sadly had to give up my baseball blog when I began traveling because I didn’t have time to write my traveling blog and my baseball blog. Plus, the Mets totally melted down this season so I am probably better off.

I read that you recently went back on a trip to the States. what did you bring back with you in your suitcase?

Electronics for my Argentine friends, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Yogi Bedtime Tea, Orbit Gum, new running shoes, tons of beauty products, and a Star Wars ship replica for an Argentine friend.

This post was written, in part, for affordablecallingcards.net where Julia writes about her expat adventures, as well as on this blog. You can follow her in both places.

Titles and cards

So I finally had personal cards made up. I've been wanting to do this for sometime, so when I go to a social function, I have a card with my phone number and email on it. It is very common here for people to exchange cards.

So when I asked an Argentina friend what I should put on my card, she said that I must decide what title I wanted before my name: Señora (Mrs.), or Licenciada (a degreed person- equivalent in the U.S. to putting B.A., or M.A., etc.).

In the U.S. I wouldn't put any title on a personal card: not even a "Mrs." I would just put my name, and maybe something funky or funny below it, or a picture, and my phone number/email.
It seems a little arrogant to me to put a title on a card of you don't need it. But here, titles carry more importance. Just to make sure, I asked the guy at the printing store of it's customary to put a title, and he said, "If you have one, it's best to put it." So, I decided to go with the academic title instead of Mrs.- because I'm always looking for job opportunities anyway, and it will help people remember me.

Then the question is: English, or Spanish? Lic. is a Spanish title, but should I translate my degree into Spanish? I decided on a compromise-- since my degree was from an American university, I put it in English, but put the title Lic. before my name:

(Of course, it has my email and phone # on it, too, but I didn't want to post that on my blog. )

They will do, but I'm still thinking they are a little stuffy for me. The next batch might be more creative with a made up title. Next time, I might go with: Boolean Goddess, Master of Organizing Shit, or Semantic Ninja.

Back in BsAs

Well...

We finally made it back to BsAs. Four months was quite a long time, but it went by pretty fast. I am slowly getting adjusted to being back. It has taken me about a week for me to realize completely where I am.

Rob, on the other hand, adjusted much more quickly than I. I think visiting the States made him realize that it is not really home, that we will be here at least for the forseeable future, and we might as well make ourselves comfortable. So he hit the ground running, and bought a bunch of things to redecorate the living room. I'm grateful for that. One of us needs to have an aesthetic sense. (I'll post some pictures once the living room is finished.)

There are a few things that we want to take advantage of that we didn't do enough of before:

• Travel: We are committed to seeing more of the country, so that I get to see some scenery every once in a while. I'm not used to living somewhere without hills. We will be going to Bariloche at Christmastime, and I hope to go see more of the north of the country as well.
  
• Culture: I want to see more ballet, theatre, music. We did some of that before, but I really need to take more advantage of it since there is so much of it so close. Food for the soul.
  
• Socializing: Working from home is great, and I enjoy my alone time, but I need to force myself to socialize more, or I become a melancholy hermit.
  
• Spanish: My Spanish definitely improved since I moved here, but I slacked off quite a bit before we left. It's easy to surround myself in an English bubble since I work in English all day. Both Rob and I are scheduled for some classes to brush up. He has been trying to incorporate a lot of Spanish into his conversation lately, which I am really proud of.

So we are both glad to be back, and the trip away has motivated us to try and soak up as much of the place as we can. Remind me to go back and read this post the next time I spend three days inside the apartment working without seeing the sun.

This post was written, in part, for affordablecallingcards.net where Julia writes about her expat adventures, as well as on this blog. You can follow her in both places.

What I Will Miss About California (link)

Dear California

Drama Over

Well, it all went very well. I can't say enough for Escondido Endodontics. It is one of the best-run medical offices I have ever been in. Rob was seen at 7:30AM, his face drained, root canal performed, and given prescription strength ibuprofen AND narcotics, just in case he needs it.

He is happily snuggled in bed, watching a documentary with a plethora of soft foods waiting for him.

We are all relieved- both physically and psychologically.

More Dental Nightmare

If you don't want to read about dental sh*t, skip this post. I am writing it more for my own benefit of being able to look back on it later.

It's 6AM Monday morning, and we have an appointment at the endodontist at 7:30AM. We made it through the weekend. Yesterday, thankfully, Rob was starting to feel a little better. I think the penicillin must have started kicking in, because taking ibuprofen seemed to keep the pain at bay without the need for any other pain medication. In fact, Rob was starting to feel a little silly about the scene with the urgent care doctor guy earlier that day.

Until last night. When he dozed off and slammed his teeth together in his sleep.

I have never seen ANYONE in so much pain in my life. It was awful. He took the rest of his pain meds and was agonizing for about twenty minutes. Agonizing doesn't even describe it. How do you describe someone who is at the very limit of their pain threshold? And this is not muscle pain. It's nerve pain. Eyes glazed over, drooling uncontrollably, not knowing whether to walk or sit, clenching fists, groaning, short, shallow breaths. It made ME want to throw up. All I could do was watch.

So, to avoid that incident again, he stayed awake the rest of the night. I dozed and slept, intermittently checking on him. His face is more swollen than it was yesterday. The swelling is all the way up just below his eye. The pain seems to be at bay, however, as long as he does not talk too much or eat anything. He has a low-grade fever, but it hasn't gotten any worse.

Please, please, let this doctor be able to help. All I want is for him to feel better.

Taxes: Everyone Wants Their Piece

Living in a foreign country brings with it a whole host of challenges, not the least of which is figuring out how to pay what to whom. If taxes in the United States aren't complicated enough, now there are two countries to worry about. I'm not an expert at this, and I don't do it all myself, but here is some of what I have learned so far:

Income tax: If you earn U.S. dollars but live abroad, there are some pros and cons:

• The foreign-earned income exemption: You don't need to pay U.S, taxes on the first 85k you earn in a foreign country. Yes, even if you work for a U.S. company. The hitch is, you have to have been in that country for all but 30 days of the calendar year (which we have not been-- doh!)
• State Taxes: If you haven't been in the U.S. and don't have a house there, you are not a resident of any state. So you don't pay any state tax, right? Well, each state has different rules about what qualifies as a resident, and CA is VERY tough on this one. You have to be careful how you prove you are not a resident. AND if you are NOT a resident of any state, complications arise with all kinds of other bureaucratic tasks, such as banking.
  
• What do I withhold? When I got a job working virtually, my status as an overseas resident stumped the accounting department. What taxes are they supposed to withhold? The solution was to create my own business, and just send the company an invoice. So technically, my boss is my client. Now I have to include the business income on my tax returns.
• Argentina: Don't know much about Argentine income taxes yet, as we are not residents, But there is no treaty between the countries, and Argentina requires you to pay taxes on worldwide income. No exemptions for what you already paid in the U.S. I'm procrastinating on this one. Needless to say, I will try my hardest to stay within the letter of the law in both countries while not getting f**ked. (I know what you are going to say- it doesn't matter whether you are a resident- only the length of time you have been there.... *has hands over ears* BLAH BLAH BLAH- I CAN'T HEAR YOU....)
  

Property Taxes:

• If you own property in Argentina, you have to pay annual property taxes on that property (usually about 1.5% of the purchase price.) NO ONE WILL TELL YOU THIS UNLESS YOU ASK ABOUT IT, AND THERE IS NO BILL. If you don't pay these taxes, you won't be able to sell the property in the future without a lot of complications. An Argentine accountant needs to register the payment with the government, so don't do this by yourself. This is different than the tax bills you get to cover the cost of city services (below:)
• City taxes: I don't know about other cities, but in Buenos Aires, you get a quarterly bill for a tax that covers the cost of trash pickup, etc. Not very expensive, but don't pay the bill late, or you will have to take 1/2 a day to go do it at the city office.

Sales Taxes:

• Taxes on imported goods in Argentina are insane. You can end up paying twice or three times the cost of electronic equipment you would pay in the U.S. All I can see this doing is keeping laptops from teenagers who could use them to learn highly valuable skills. There is wifi on every corner, but only the elite use it. What a shame.

That's all the taxes I can think of. I didn't get into a lot of details, since I am not an accountant, but it gives you an idea of the issues you have to deal with between two countries. It takes a little bit of the romance out of traveling abroad. It requires organization, patience, and tenacity.

This post was written, in part, for affordablecallingcards.net where Julia writes about her expat adventures, as well as on this blog. You can follow her in both places.

How I Deal With Thyroid-induced Depression

With our family histories of mental illness, I think Rob and I are both secretly afraid that one of us is going to crack up some day. Hence, the worried expression on his face when I wake up in tears. Literally. Coming out of the fog of sleep, there is a weight pushing down on my chest, making me feel acutely, profoundly, sad.

He asks me what's wrong. I don't know. He asks if it's something he did... No. He asks if I had a bad dream... No. He asks if something has happened... No. It's not rational. I've experienced a rational grief before when my father died. I know when it's justified. This time it's not. It feels like someone has died, but nothing serious has changed in my life.

If you have read my blog before, perhaps you know that I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's disease, which makes my thyroid under-function. This depression happens occasionally, I believe, due to hormonal fluctuations, despite the medication I take working fine most of the time.

And so the way I deal with it is this: I think of the depression as something separate from me. It's not me; it's a symptom. I deal with it the same way I deal with a bad cold. When a virus hits you, you do what you can to get through it. I'm sad for a day, or a few. I let myself be sad. I cry at sappy commercials, feel pessimistic about the world, feel lonely, turn off the chat clients, and unplug the phone (and I'm usually more productive at work- like a cold, it's not debilitating, just annoying).

Then, over a few days, I gradually begin to feel better. I giggle at something. I put on a dress and make-up. I clean something, want to go out, and at some point it dawns on me that the dark cloud has passed, much the same way you realize after a cold you are not coughing or blowing your nose anymore.

Depression is really not as big of a deal as commercials for anti-depressants make it out to be. If it went on for months with no end in sight, then it would be a problem. But temporary mild or even moderate depression is nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. It's not "crazy." It's just part of life. If it weren't for depression, we wouldn't have half of the great poetry that exists in the world, or Russian novels.

I think there is too much pressure on us to be in a good mood all the time. Where does this pressure come from? Is it an American thing? I don't know, but it's just not life. Embrace your melancholia. It makes the happy times that much more enjoyable.

Life By Default

Coming back to the U.S. for a while has been a nice break from struggling with a different language and culture. But after being away, it has also given me some perspective on the culture I grew up with.

In this economic downturn, a lot of people are struggling with houses they can no longer afford, keeping up with car payments, the cost of children, etc. You can blame it on bad decisions, causing people to live beyond their means (as conservatives do). Or you can blame it on the evil corporate empire taking advantage of people in a big marketing machine (as liberals do). But I think it's a much more complicated intertwining of both. For a long time, my generation (X) in the United States has had it very easy. Unless you were a complete moron, you could land a job doing SOMETHING and get by. The economic situation was so good, you could major in philosophy, backpack through Europe, start a career late and still land on your feet. This has made us lazy about making decisions, and so a lot of people live life by default.

What is life by default? It's doing what everyone else does or what the great public relations and advertising machine tells you to do without thinking about whether it really fits the context of your life. It's having a huge white wedding because you dreamt of it since a child even though it will start your marriage in debt. It's getting into a mortgage that costs 40% of your income every month because the bank said you could "afford" it. It's getting saddled with a new car payment because you are too embarrassed to drive a clunker to the office. For a long time these "non-decision decisions," or default decisions didn't really matter, because even though you made major economic mistakes, you could sell your house at a profit, change jobs for a 20% raise, or cash in some stock options to make up for it. Not any more. I think for the first time in a long time, my generation has to economically grow up. The fantasy is over, kids.

I've made my share of "default" mistakes. I have a student loan hanging over my head that some "counselor" in a financial aid office stamped me through with a ten-minute decision that has stayed with me for over ten years. But I've tried to make my decisions with increasing deliberation as I have gotten older. When I asked myself why I wanted to have children in my twenties, the answer "because I always thought I would" was not good enough. It had to fit what was going on in the immediate context of my life. I wanted a lot of things as a little girl--to be a princess or a ballerina--but that doesn't fit whom I have become. I have responsibilities to a spouse whose feelings I need to respect, I have health issues I never could have anticipated, I have increasing awareness of my capacity to handle new burdens, whether financial or otherwise. Any decision has to fit who I am now, not who I was or who I want others to see me as.

It's O.K. to take the bus. It's O.K. to live in a trailer, not own a TV, get a job wherever you can to make ends meet, reconsider your political views, cut your hair short, change religions, change careers, have children, decide NOT to have children, as long as it's deliberate. As long as it fits. As long as it is YOU.

The next time I find myself being manipulated into something that doesn't feel right, whether it's pressure from a sales person to buy something I can't afford, or pressure from people to "keep up with the Joneses," I'm going to tell whoever it is to fuck off. No more decisions by default. That's my new mantra. When anyone asks why I have made a decision, I have an answer. That way, if my life takes a tumble, at least I know I have been true to myself.

Tour de Maine: final Thoughts

It's been a few days since we have been back, and I've done a lot of resting and recuperating from the bicycle tour. I've had some time to think back about it, and organize my thoughts:

The Challenges:

1. Bike handling. My balance is terrible, and it definitely hampered my progress. I need to go downhill slowly, and I get nervous on dirt and rocky roads. I have never done much cycling, however, so this should improve with more time on the bike.
2. Health. I had two health challenges: My thyroid, which made me a little emotional and tired, and my hands, of which I think I managed to injure the tendons a bit. My thyroid made me slightly moody which caused me to be depressed some mornings, and took some enjoyment out of the trip. I think this was because I'm not used to prolonged effort day after day. Next time, I think I may need to increase my meds just a touch- I will talk to a doctor about it. The injury to my hands made me incapable of performing a lot of tasks involved with packing, setting up the tent, etc. I think if my hands had held up I would have a better sense of efficacy and not felt so useless. This can be solved by adjusting my handlebars, and loosening my grip as I get more comfortable on the bike.
3. Difference in fitness: Rob is much more fit than I am, so the pace of the tour was a compromise; he had to slow down for me, and I had to push against my limits. He carried most of the weight which served to mitigate this somewhat, but I think he would enjoy a tour with someone who can ride 50-80 miles a day.
   

The good stuff:

1. The feeling of self-sufficiency. There is something very rewarding knowing that you can pack up and head out wherever you want, carrying everything you need with you. Even with all my problems, I felt so proud when people asked, "You are carrying everything on your bikes?" and said they had always wanted to do it. We came across a group tour with riders that carried nothing but fanny packs and had all their stuff in a van that rode behind them, and I have to admit I felt a little smug.
2. The connection with place. Getting to know a place by bicycle is very different than by car- you don't have the barrier between you and the world. You can smell the fields, read the hand-made signs outside people's driveways, and feel the undulations of the land. I feel like I know the Maine coast better than if I had driven it in a car.
3. The people we met. Our bikes were an easy topic of conversation for people who were interested, and I have to say, that people who are interested in bike touring are pretty cool. We had some really nice conversations with really nice people. It made me feel optimistic about humanity.

The future:

Will I tour again in the future? Definitely. What we might do differently next time:

1. Different handlebars. My hands are still not healed.
   
2. I need to work on my bike handling skills. It is still hard for me to look behind me or take a drink on the bike without losing my balance.
   
3. Take less stuff. I had too many clothes, and we didn't use our stove after we realized we were close to delis with warm food, even at our campsites.
4. Up my thyroid meds. Don't want to be so moody.
5. Pay more attention (via map or GPS) to the terrain. 30 miles with hills is as difficult (or more) as 50 miles of flats.
6. Keep stuff in dedicated bags. WE ended up doing this by the end of the trip, but we spent a lot of time in the beginning of the trip just looking for stuff.

Overall, I'm proud that we survived. It was a big leap for someone who hadn't done much cycling before, and Rob had a lot of patience with me. On balance, the sense of self-sufficiency and adventure outweigh the challenges. After I recover a bit, I'm ready for more. Patagonia, here we come!

What to Do About My Drinking

I'm going back to Buenos Aires in three and a half weeks, and on my mind is how I am going to stay healthy when I get back. I am going to try and stay active, and eat a paleo-ish type diet.

One question I still haven't completely come to a decision on is what to do about drinking. Here in the U.S., I drink moderately by most standards. I have a hangover usually twice a year or so, on New Year's Day and the day after my birthday. I have wine or cocktails two or three times a week, and don't have more than three drinks usually. Two drinks is probably average.

When I was in Buenos Aires, I drank more than that. I couldn't give an average per day or week, but I was hung over a lot more than twice in a year. There are several reasons that drinking is easier there:

• It's cheap. If you earn dollars, alcohol is very inexpensive. You can get a good bottle of Malbec for about $5 U.S. You can get a liter of beer for $2.

• It's easily available. The grocery store is 50 yards from my front door. Two of the most popular bars for tourists and expats are within two blocks. Some stores deliver.

• It's the center of social activities: Social gatherings are almost always in bars, and at parties, I am given a filled wine glass as soon as I walk in the door.

• I don't have to drive. After dinner, I only have to be coherent enough to give a taxi driver my address, and I'm home.

• I have more leisure time. Because I have domestic help, my life is centered around work and play. When work is over, it's over, and I have more time to enjoy myself.
  

There are a lot of expats over 40 who develop red noses and drink in the early afternoon. Bars are full of them. I know several people whom I think are on the edge of drinking dangerously, and one who has a definite problem. I don't want to be one of them. I don't think I have to quit drinking altogether. But I need to monitor myself.

So the question is: how do I maintain moderation while surrounded by excess? Give myself rules? Two drink max? No alcohol at home?

How do you handle moderation?

This post was written, in part, for affordablecallingcards.net where Julia writes about her expat adventures, as well as on this blog. You can follow her in both places.

Tour de Maine: The End

Well, we did it! I'm back at Mom's house safe and sound. I feel quite lucky to have air conditioning, cable TV, and a nice bed.

We rode from Wiscasset to Freeport, and stayed at a campsite for two nights at the Desert of Maine. The Desert is this weird sand dune in the middle of the forest where they have a cheesy little museum and give guided tours.

On Wednesday, we rode into Freeport, about three miles from the campsite and did a little shopping and site seeing. The biggest attraction in Freeport is the L.L. Bean "campus":

It's a Mecca of outdoor activities. They have a whole building dedicated to fishing and hunting, another building dedicated to bikes and kayaking, etc. It's HUGE. They have created it as not just a store, but a destination, where they do concerts in the park. It seems a little weird to me to build an "experience"around a product, but whatever. (I bought a pair of shorts).

The reason I had to buy some stuff was that we finally left some stuff behind somewhere. With packing and unpacking almost every day, keeping track of our stuff was no small task. We finally left a compression bag of cycling clothes behind somewhere. Disappointing, but not a big deal.

Overall, I think the trip was a little more challenging than I thought- not physically, but psychologically. I was out of my element, and it is difficult to persevere in something you are not competent in. But I'm glad to have done it, and I'm sure after some time, I will do another one.

I'll have some final thoughts about the whole thing a little late after reflection, but for now, resting and catching up.

Tour De Maine: What Day Is It?

On Saturday we were still camped at Camden Hills State Park, and that night it rained. And rained until midnight. And huge gusts of wind from another hurricane blew until about 3AM. But I have to say our Hilleberg tent is friggin' awesome. You could use this thing at the South Pole. I have to admit I was a little uneasy and had a hard time sleeping with the noise, but we were warm and dry.

On Sunday we only rode about 20 miles and stayed at Moody's Diner & Motel. This place is great in a weird, rustic, old-timey kind of way. The motel consists of little cabins that have had running water and electricity put in them, and the diner is full of locals that enjoy cheap and good eats. The place is still family-run.

We are getting pretty close to Portland and we don't want to be too early, so today we stopped in Wiscasset, which is another in a long line of charming little coastal towns. We are in another little hotel that is run by a woman who runs back and forth between the office and the Chinese restaurant in front.

My body is holding up pretty well, except for my hands, which are still a little worse for wear. I'm not going to return to CA any lighter, being too tempted by lobster rolls, fried fisherman's dinners, and whoopie pies. A whoopie pie is two chocolate cake-type cookies with a frosting between them:

Tomorrow we are off to Freeport, I think, where we might spend two days before riding to Portland. Southward ho!

Tour de Maine: The difference Between Fearless and Courageous

I'm not fearless. I'm afraid of a lot of things. I'm afraid of going downhill too fast, of riding too far on the right side of the road, getting off balance with loaded panniers. But one doesn't have to be fearless to have courage; you just have to face your fears. I'm giving myself credit for being courageous enough to ride on despite my fears. It's been worth it.

After the hostel, we rode and camped on Mount Desert Island the next two days. The weather and scenery were great. I had a problem with my brakes, so we spent one day walking around Southwest Harbor while the nice guys at the bike shop fixed them. They adjusted my gears a bit as well.

On Wednesday, we rode off the island 30 miles and got a hotel room in Ellsworth. Did all our laundry, took long showers, etc. The hotel was a bit depressing. A lot of people with not much going on in their lives. Ellsworth is a place to get to other places.

On Thursday we rode 40 miles to Searsport and found a great private campsite next to the water. 40 miles was tough. With our bikes loaded, we do an average of 10 miles per hour, so it took us four hours riding time. The campsite had hot showers and laundry, however, which made us much more comfortable.

Yesterday we rode about 25 miles to Camden. After the hard day the day before, we were pretty tired. We knew there was a storm coming, so we rode into town for something to eat, bought some food and a couple of books, and hunkered down for the night in the tent at the state park. The rain started at about 3:30 in the AM, and still pours as I write at 1:30 PM the next day.

The tent held up fantastically, and we were warm and dry all night; but the thought of spending a whole day in the tent was too much, so we took a taxi in to town for breakfast, and are now at the public library catching up with the world.

My bike handling is getting much better. I still need to go downhill slowly so that I don't get off-balance. Rob usually ends up way ahead of me going downhill since he is carrying most of the load, and I catch up going uphill. We've each had our moments of getting frustrated at ourselves and each other, but we've had a lot of laughs as well. I'm glad to have a day off of riding, and I think Rob is, too. The last two days were tough.

Mainers are friendly, taciturn, and sporty. Lots of boots and ball caps. I don't see a lot of women dolled up unless they are rich. People here are tough. You have to be to survive the winters. The land and the weather are very important. People live on the lobster, blueberry, and forest industries. They are laid back as well. We haven't been honked at once. People in cars just slow down and calmly drive around us.

I hope the rain will stop soon. One more night at the state park, and tomorrow we keep heading south.

Tour De Maine: The Blueberry Adventure Day 3

It rained all night lst night. Good thing we were in the hostel. Hostels are weird places. Rob stayed up talking to someone really interesting, but he said the funniest quote was, "Wait! I haven't shown you all my knives yet!"

The day started not so well. We dropped off the rental car and started back to the island on our bikes fully loaded, but I was not very good at keeping my bike balanced. I think my bags were unevenly packed, and my front end would waver as I went downhill. So I got all panicky and didn't have a very good time. I felt a bit discouraged, the way I felt when I first started riding and found that bike handling is difficult for me. After we got to camp and set up, we rode a little without the panniers, which went a little better.

Our campsite is just off a fjord- I can't recall the name just now- but the view from the waterline is gorgeous. We went out onto the dock at the end of the day and just "wasted time" in the sun with our feet in the water, surrounded by puffy clouds and a pine-lined shore. It made the day more bearable, and despite thinking that bicycle touring might be a failure, I feel like I am able to persevere tomorrow.

Right now we just finished eating a dinner of canned chili, and Rob is building a fire. There is an open wireless network, so we are checking our email and the news of the day a bit before we wind down and go to sleep.

Tomorrow will be better. The only thing I regret right now is forgetting to pack soap. :(

Tour De Maine: The Blueberry Adventure Day 2

The shack where Rob used to work as a teenager

Portland to Bar Harbor (Bah-ha-bah)

Today we took the rental car and drove up to Bar Harbor. On the way, we stopped at Bucksport and Rob reminisced about some of his childhood memories. Just outside the town we stopped at the shack where he used to work as a teenager cutting up frozen chickens and deep frying seafood for a little over $2.00 an hour.

The drive was gorgeous and relaxing- everyone drives so slowly there is nothing to get stressed out about- and we spent the day looking at trees and water.

We continued up to Bar Harbor, and walked around the little town. We thought the weather would be terrible due to the hurricane off the coast, but it was beautiful. However, there were some very high waves in the afternoon that swept some people into the ocean, which was the talk of Bar Harbor today everywhere we went. We had a lobster dinner (of course) and are staying the night in the Bar Harbor Hostel. As I speak, the rain just started, so it's a good thing we are spending the night inside. We thought we would use the tent platforms behind the hostel, but they are too small for our tent, so perhaps that was fortuitous.

The hostel suits our needs- it's halfway between "roughing it" and staying in a hotel. We are not the oldest ones here, as we feared. There is a couple in their 30's (perhaps we are older than them, but I'm not sure) and there is only one weird guy who seems off-kilter. The rest of the guests are travelers from all over the globe in their 20's. The Swiss girls are getting flirted with.

We thought we would spend four nights in Bar Harbor before moving on, but the town was so crowded and touristy, we are anxious to get on the bikes and into nature, so tomorrow we will bike back onto the island from returning the rental car and go to a campsite, weather permitting. If it's pouring down rain tomorrow, our plans might change.

So tonight maybe we will venture out for a nightcap and try to get a good night's sleep in separate dorms. Then onward into the wilderness.