Bend, Oregon

Little less than one week after I returned home from South America, 12 friends and I drove up to the campy city of Bend, Oregon for a friend's wedding. On the scenic drive up, we passed Mt. Shasta and acres of trees and snow-capped mountains. It was a beautiful 10 hour drive that I would really not mind doing again. But pictures will have to wait as my external USB CF card reader is still at home.

So far, I have managed to be the first one to wake and go for an hour run each day. I think it's the best way to get to know the streets and neighborhoods in a new city. One of my favorite routes so far is a six-mile loop down the Deschutes River. I have literally run next to the bubbling river and large boulders. The trails are narrow but perfect for two people running next to one another.

This morning, after my run, I came home to a house filled with the aromas of bacon fat, scrambled eggs, blueberry muffins and tator tots. Daniel decided to cook all of us a full, breakfast-for-champions type of breakfast. My value-add was the organic sumatra coffee I grinded and blended. Mmmm.

The girls and Tibor headed to the outlets to do some shopping; we all managed to score something from the Nike store, though I'm sure Lauren, the bride, could have gotten us the same products for a ton cheaper (she works and is SPONSORED by them). Afterwards, we shopped for tonight's BBQ dinner and then headed to the bachelor pad for the last couple of quarters of the Cal v. Oregon State football game. Close game, but Cal came out on top. Go Bears!

Tomorrow is the wedding, but tonight we will be playing a few rounds of pong (beer and ping) before we hit the sack.

Iguazu Falls

Iguazu Falls
Originally uploaded by michellechang

Unfortunately but fortunately, my flight down to Patagonia was canceled on Monday due to unforseen circumstances. Apparently, the domestic Argentinian airlines decided to go on strike. Therefore, my flight was canceled but I quickly decided to go north to Iguazu Falls. And I am glad I did, because it is more than spectacular.

I thought I was going to be underwhelmed here - everyone had said how incredible the falls were, but many times, there just is a lot of overhyping. But I was wrong. I was more than pleasantly surprised to see hundreds of the 275 individual falls that make up this UNESCO World Heritage Site.

In addition to hiking for half a day throughout the park, Vic and I also went aboard a raft-boat that took us under some of the falls. Along the way, we met three San Franciscans so found ourselves in good company. We were given a waterproof bag and life jacket, and stepped aboard the boat. In a matter of minutes, my dry yet somewhat sweaty tank top and shorts were drenched. We went right under the falls - I screamed like a little girl the whole time, in complete exhiliration. We had to head back to shore for a couple minutes because one man got a panic attack so had to get off. We continued to take showers under the falls a couple more times before we continued on our speedboat down the river Parana. Once out, we hopped on a 4X4 and reached home base again.

It was quite an adventure, but nothing compared to what a Belgium lady I met has been doing. I did not quite catch her name, but she stayed in the same hostel room as us these past couple of nights. For the past five and a half months, she has traveled through Belgium, France, Switzerland, Spain and Portugal, all by bike. From Spain, she flew into Brasil, and crossed the country before reaching Argentina a couple days ago. And I must mention, she looked like she was in her 50s.

Anyhow, I got around to chatting with her for a while at dinner last night. She has no plan on when she will return home. She is indefinitely traveling until she gets bored and runs out of money. She has no cell phone, and only rarely jumps on the internet. She says she has no family, few friends, and is neither lonely, tired, nor frightened.

This morning, I was returning from a morning run, when I saw her on her bike. She was right. She only had four small bags, carefully and securely sitting on both her wheels, balancing her tall yet slender frame. She had lost about 8 kilos since the start of her trip. We greeted each other in French, kissed both cheeks, and I wished her luck, safety, and wellness on her trip ahead. She had a smile plastered on her weathered face, and muscles I have never seen on a 50 or 60 year old woman before.

I felt a weird tingling sensation when I saw her. A part of me wanted to do what she is doing so badly. To just get on a bike, with a map glued to the handlebar, and to bike 100 km a day, stop and rest whenever I please. Time is not of the essence, money is a factor but inconsequential in such a travel approach, and freedom is ubiquitous.

But another part of me wonders...is she in fact lonely? Is she scared? When will she stop? I admire her for her desire to seek the world in a carefree and adventurous way. She has a courage not many have - a bravery that can be found in only certain types of people. At the same time, I know that if I were to get on a bike for one, two, or even three years today, it would be different. I am at a different point in my life than she is - or am I? She is wiser, has seen more, is more experienced, and has different priorities. For all I know, she may have had a loving family, a stable and well-paying job, but that those chapters of her life have passed and closed.

I have met a number of people like this Belgium lady on my travels. It is not rare to come across these strong-willed, independently courageous, and free-spirited types. I guess somewhere along the line, you can choose where you want to take your life. I know that if I just left for several years alone on bike, I would see amazing parts of the world. Of course, it would be just as meaningful if I had a companion to share that with me - as long as we don`t end up arguing the whole trip.

So who knows, maybe I´ll plan some kind of bike adventure one day. But in the end, any kind of mode of transport can be your own adventure. It just takes that extra step and desire deep down.

Best of luck, be safe, and have fun seeing the world, lady!

Ernesto, age 9

Ernesto, age 9
Originally uploaded by michellechang

Ernesto has stolen my heart. Each afternoon, he comes home from school, carrying his books and wearing his school uniform. It is a long, white coat, that makes him look like a young chemist or precocious doctor.

Around 2pm, he starts to fly his yellow and green kite. Often, he will accidentally drop the string, and I will run after it so that it does not get caught in the trees or fly away. I can't really communicate with him, but he has asked his mother to tell me how to say certain things in Mandarin. So I've taught him simple greetings and even how cute he is.

His mother, Dora, is also a sweetheart. She has been divorced for the past six years but is a strong lady who knits and sews clothing, bags, uniforms, and bed sheets for her three children. In addition, she also cooks, cleans, and paints her house. Moreover, she is her own carpenter and plumber; she is a handy woman.

Today, the usually smiling Ernesto was sad. He sat with his head between his legs and had a long face. I asked David to ask Dora what was wrong; turns out that he had ditched school - and was going to get punished. It was sad to see him so unhappy, but I know that Dora is a good mother.