I Make Myself

Croissants for breakfast

The best croissants in Silverlake are from Café Tropical. They have delicious freshly squeezed orange juice too. Juice that is not a juice trying to be a hipster juice (insert wink here) Decent-price-stuff.

Within a distance that falls into the category of things I can do wearing my PJ's. It feels like home. I will admit I might be a little bit predisposed to like a place that uses two (2!) of my favorite words as its name. 

On one croissant-craving morning I took my order to-go. I drank all the juice on my way back. Next time I should get two. Note to self. 

Back home I poured myself some milk, topped it off with coffee. Serious dipping was about to go down.

The soaking treatment is an art form. Too fast and my shirt/face gets splattered, a problem of excess liquids. Too slow and the coffee will melt the pastry, this will detach the piece into said liquids. What remains of the piece make a not-so-nice comeback from the bottom of the mug. #LawsOfPhysics. 

I sat down and broke my croissant in two. I grabbed one half and lowered the pointy side into my cup with gliding care. The first bite came with a familiar certainty.  It was the best croissant I've ever had. It was so good, it reminded me of the other best croissant I've ever had.

My first time in France was with my sister. We were still in our twenties. It was our first big trip, the one where we discovered we were traveling soulmates.

It was so early in the morning that I can't remember if there was fog or Paris was just being cloudy. The color of the city was definitely grey. Not sad grey, though.

We needed to take a train to Toulouse, it departed from Garde du Montparnasse. At the train station we sat down at a little coffee place. In real need of caffeine and food, we took turns ordering one croissant et un café au lait each. The joy of having the words café-olé come out of your mouth should be enough to make you want to order coffee in French. Always.   

The city had been magical. Past the initial cold, I adored Paris from the get-go. I was enchanted by the echoes of its many stories, one for each street corner.  I swirled my way through all the major city highlights, used the metro and ate mussels. 

Waiting for our train at the table, in that small café I sensed a type of certainty. As sad as I was to leave Paris,  something in me was sure I would come back. The questions of how or when were not only unanswered, they had not yet been born.  It was a feeling. An unnamable something I did not know I knew. Oh, but I knew.

I dipped my croissant, turned its edge to a brownish grey and had a bite of the best croissant I've ever had.

I swear Silverlake feels like Paris sometimes. Particularly on the days I eat croissants for breakfast. 

 

 

That time we all went to Chicago

and loved it.

 

 

High up

For my birthday we decided to head out and spend a couple of days in Chalatenango.

A territory with the most beautiful, still unadulterated scenery and a personal favourite. It is what high altitude feels like, what we would call "the woods" here in El Salvador.

Archie was not allowed to come (he is not considered part of the local fauna) so it was a two-day trip, lodging in a human-only cabin for two. Time was spent reading books and having tea during quiet mornings. We drank wine out of paper cups, hiked trails for sunset and lit up the fireplace for long night-talks. 

Towards the end of our second day hike we were walking back to the cabin when in the middle of the open field I felt the urge to stop and look up. Just as the clouds cleared, the sky dimmed and lights of hovering stars were revealed.

An elaborate mise en scéne and a perfectly synchronised performance. The universe decided I would be its fortuitos spectator. 

I felt as if I was supposed to be there, that I was meant to be there! at  that specific moment, at that exact time, at that precise place. It was an experience of universal synchronicity, a birthday gift or one of the many things that happen when you are high up and closer to the sky.

Never in a million years would I have thought of myself as someone who shares, much less publicly, about cosmic insights. I could attribute it to all the hippy stuff I've gotten myself into lately. I can only guess that transcendence is contagious ;)

It feels like quite the milestone. Turning thirty-three got me all excited I even got a tattoo. It's about wandering and itinerancy and lightness. It's about me and it's about my grandfather too. An homage to traveling, exploring and freedom.

Uhm!...I guess I have become a tattooed hippy talking about universal magnificence. Who would have thought right?...not my old-church Pastor for sure. 

I also noticed that I have become the kind of person who will publicly acknowledge to have found the most perfectly written -and now current favourite- 'Acknowledgment' in a book. Do people even read those? But Capote will do that to me, In Cold Blood.

He had me at "The material".

Well, off to light up some incense and drink some organic tea.

Here are some pictures to go with.

 

Road tripping California

Sometimes I miss that age when snacking meant having to grab for a bag of Doritos, when the word indulge was out of my vocabulary.

I miss that labeless ingenuity of my teenage years. Generally I miss my teenage years, period.

I get nostalgic thinking about the past. Younger -not necessarily wilder- times when I felt free. Of course everything looks greener from afar because  I was never really a careless girl. Too aware of the future and too self conscious about my present. I always kept myself on the side where all the over-worriers liked to hang out.

This past month Heinz and I took a trip to California. He had to study while I had to compulsively take as many yoga classes as I could.  I mean, that is what you do when you are in LA!  

We stayed near Santa Monica (insert a million heart emoticons here) and while Heinz took his hipster rented Prius to class I let my purple rented bike take me to wherever I wanted to go.

After Heinz was done with classes we decided to take a road trip up to Big Sur. As Keruac-esc as Heinz is he wanted to rent a proper On-the-Road-no-AC type of car but honestly, after filling up the tank with 33$ the Prius was a no-brainer.

While we were on the road I felt that teenage lightness again. The freedom that comes from having no plans or schedules, no sleeping arrangements, no list of things to do. It made me feel careless and free! Doritos-for-a-snack kind of free. Katy-Perry-cruising-in-a-convertible-with-THAT-guy-on-THAT-video-clip type of free. I mean, except I was in a Hybrid Hatchback but you know, tomayto/tomahto.

This was the first time in my life I hadn't plan a trip thoroughly. The first time we would sort of wing it! 

The un-attachment  of not having to be at a certain place, on a certain time. The lightness that comes from carrying only the things I needed made this trip  different. I guess every trip you take IS different from the previous one but this one gave me peace.

It feels weird even just to type it. I've been looking for the right word,  the term freedom -just as the concept of free will- is something I'm still making my mind about so I didn't want to use it to describe my feelings. It was the only word that would come to my mind until I thought of peace.

A peaceful, un-eventful road trip.

I follow on Instagram a few people who live and travel out of their vans. Call me crazy but Into the Wild happens to be one of my favorite movies and leaving everything behind to go into the woods is something I fantasize about. Often.

We didn't go into the woods this time but man do I crave it.

This time it was the road and a hell lot of words.  The question "What do I want to do today?" is kind of magic. We drove and talked for hours, we stayed in cheap motels and talked some more.  

Even though I ate enough greasy food to remind me that I'm not in my teen years anymore we made our way back feeling lighter than when we left. 

 

 

All pictures by Heinz Kobernik and I posted some I took on my Instagram :)

Sunny SoCal

 

I freaking love it here.

I bike to and from my yoga class. 

Need I say more?

NO, it's a rhetori(cal) question ;)

 

Ubud

Bali was exactly what I expected. 

Now, I understand the whole Eat, Pray, Love trend. I want to love in freaking Indonesia too!

Luckily Heinz was around so I was able to -not find love- but give love to my German hubby who I brought in tow...ha!

I didn't know the Bali part of the book was set in Ubud but listen even if you don't want to Love in Indonesia, I mean...get yourself down there ASAP.

It's beautiful. 

There are two parts of Ubud, one is the busy streets and the other one is the rice fields. One is filled with the smell of incense from the daily offerings and the other one is what heaven is supposed to look like. 

It's is surrealistically perfect.

 

 

Koh Samui

 

   

Thailand is definitely something special and no amount of photos will do justice to its beauty...and food. Heinz and I used to plan our days around what food we were going to eat or try out.

We stayed in Bophud which is a quiet part of Koh Samui. There is a fisherman's market every friday night and we were lucky enough to be there twice. We also ended up staying here more than we had initially planned because we felt right at home.

Heinz and I agree that Thailand is a place we would like to continue exploring. Hopefully we can make our way back sooner than later.

These are a mix of photos taken by Heinz and every single one that involves food is certainly mine.

Next stop...BALI!

 

Bangkok

Heinz and I are sorting out -well, speeding up the process- of sorting out all the photos from our South East Asia trip.

Even though I shared a little along the way I skipped some places. My goal is to share them before the year ends so I can work on a biiiiiig 2013 year recap.

After Cambodia we flew to Bangkok where we spent one week. While we were there we decided to skip Myanmar, which was in our original plan, and stay in Thailand a little bit longer and then finally head to Bali.

One week in Bangkok was not enough. We could have easily -and I mean EASILY- stayed way longer.  It is such a cool city!  filled with awesome street food, cute little shops and out-of-this-world patterns and textures.

I have to say my personal highlight was the Royal Palace. Even though it's a very touristy place (tons of people) I couldn't help but feel inspired by every single detail. Every wall, corner, entrance, exit, floor, ceiling...it was all so thoughtfully decorated. The mix of colors and shapes...it made me feel like I was in, well, Thailand. 

The admission fee to the Royal Palace also includes the Queen Sirikit Museum of Textiles. The Museum exhibits the history of Thailand's traditional dress, textile production and a collection of the Queen's most iconic dresses.

This is a story of preserving their unique textile cultural heritage as means of local development.

That's the short story anyways, for the longer version I really encourage anyone to visit it. 

Here are some pictures of the Royal Palace, there were no pictures allowed inside the Museum of Textiles.

Heinz was kind enough to put together a very short film of the rest of Bangkok.

 

 

Next up...Koh Samui.

I'm trying

I'm back and it hasn't been easy.

I haven't made it easy on me so mostly it's my fault. Guilty as charged.

On top of it, it's hard for me to talk about it.

I shut down. That's like my thing. That's why I haven't been writing. That's why I feel like I don't want to see anyone. That's why I don't want to talk about anything.

I'm trying though. This is my attempt to deal with whatever and yes, there are things I have a hard time talking about but there are other things that will get me talking in no time.

So here are a few of those things...you know...so I can loosen up a bit.

Books.

I'm currently reading The wondrous life of Oscar Wao. By currently I mean I started the book before I left -two months ago- dropped it in Hong Kong at my friend's and picked it up on my way back.  

I'm also writing on a separate post my thoughts on the book. Spoiler alert: awesomeness on a stick. But then again you could see that one coming since I only write about books I like. 

Yoga -sigh-

Honestly it's what keeps me sane and that doesn't mean that I have to practice everyday but everything I've gotten out of yoga has taught me so much about myself that now, more than ever, I feel that I am in tune with my body (brain and heart included), and that for me is the ultimate definition of health -both physically and mentally-  I've become my own Q&A.

Music. 

I'm already working on this month's yoga playlist and even though I wasn't a crazy music fan before yoga, now I love me a good amount of good pump up songs.

I can't resist when a song I love comes up on the radio. I will turn the damn volume up and blast ma' steeeeeereooooooo and yes, throw in a few dance moves. If you see me dancing one day in the car next to you please don't be weird about it, just wave and say hi.

Hi.

I'm sorting out the nearly thousand pictures Heinz and I took. Well...he is. I haven't looked at the pictures. I don't want to reminisce. I don't want to feel that now it's all just a memory. I want to feel just as I did when I was at all those amazing places. I don't want to forget how alive I felt. How  much joy I can fit in my body. How far I can go. How in love Heinz and I can be.

Routine is a bummer. I wish I could thrive on a routine but I can't. I need new challenges, new places, new things and I had come to the conclusion that, on some aspects of my life, I had to settle. 

No, I DON'T need to settle!

I'm happier when I'm on the move and not in a particular geographical sense but I need to feel that I am moving forward, that I am going somewhere. 

Nowhere doesn't exist. 

So here I am. In sunny El Salvador, trying to make sense of how I'm back to where things didn't change a single bit but me...you know...I somehow came back feeling same, same...but different.

Of tomatoes and other stuff

 

When I was about 7 years old I decided that I didn´t like tomatoes. Just like that. No particular reason. I was just done with tomatoes.

I was known for picking them out and leaving them on the side but my highest achievement was to somehow convince my best friend to stop liking tomatoes too.

So if my decision was irrational I don't even want to talk about hers.

When asked why I didn't like tomatoes my answer was "I just don't like them". When someone asked my friend why she didn't like tomatoes her answer was "because Ruth doesn't like them"

So, yeah.

I remember clearly making up my mind and thinking out loud that I was not going to eat tomatoes anymore. Fortunately I grew out of it...when I graduated from college.

I love tomatoes now! I don't know what the hell I was thinking back then but I'm even more amazed by how long I kept that irrational decision as part of my status quo.

There are a few other stupid decisions that I've dragged with me throughout the years.

Maybe not decisions from when I was 7 but you know...decisions.

Back in school I never told my best friend that I liked him. I decided that we weren't gonna date. Ever. He was my best friend -and of course it didn't help that he was suuuuuch a player- so I decided that, under no circumstances, any dating would occur.

He cleaned up his act -most high school boys do- but by the time we were in college I had already made my decision back in high school so I kept it.

That did not go very well. A lot of words were left unsaid and it evolved into a very hard situation for me. It's really hard to get over something that never happened which makes me think that maybe someday I should write about unfinished businesses.

I'm not taking about regrets here -as a side note we are both happily married, just not to each other- . I am talking about dumb decisions taken during a certain period of time that don't need to be dragged into a different future.

It's hard to tell. When should one reconsider, when should one stick to it.

Another piece of work is the decision of having babies but the one thing I really struggle with right now is living in El Salvador .

It's been a while since I've been wanting to move. Our purpose of going back to El Salvador was to pay off our student loans as quickly as possible (we believe in the debt-free thing). This year we finally payed them off so now we are on this hiatus: if the reason for going back is now gone what then is holding us there? Is it that we are now comfortable with our life there or are we just dragging some old decision into our present?

Today, for the first time, I cried in a yoga class (Thank God for no lights on during savasana). I was the last one to walk out of the room because I was sobbing, silently but uncontrollably.

It was not a sad moment though, it was an I'm-sorry kind of moment.

I felt sorry that these are my last days here, that I'm going back but mostly because I don't want to go back.

I want to want to go back! and I don't know how to make that happen because it's not that I'm not happy, it's not that I don't like it.

It's the feeling of wanting to move forward, it's a matter of not forgetting what I want from life and for that I'm thankful for this trip. It reminded me so much of how I love to travel and how baaaaaad I wanted to move around the world, settle someplace and then re-settle somewhere else.

Of course now, reminiscing on disliking tomatoes seems trivial but as you can see that's not the problem. The problem is that no matter how trivial they may be I take all my decisions pretty seriously.