right foot

it´s not broken. but that x-ray tech was questionable. evidently sometimes broken bones don´t appear in an x-ray immediately. which sounds crazy. i really don´t feel like icing down right now.

also, i´ve decided that hurting my foot is my punishment for being a lousy traveler. when my foot was in sound condition, i didn´t take advantage of it (in a good way). instead, i slept in, didn´t work out, didn´t explore, and ate take out sushi for dinner 50% of the time. now that my foot is swollen and hard to walk on...just look at me. i´m all sorts of blogging, about to finish a pretty decent book and...well that´s all. but it´s better than yesterday. so, since i´ve been in a bit of an Aesop´s fables kinda mood today, i´ll say this- and i don´t know if it´s a John Milton quotation or not- if you don´t use your gifts (aka feet, legs) they will be taken from you (or rot, or break, or develop cankles).

PS- the name of the book I´m reading is The Clothes on Their Backs by Linda Grant. This silly computer won´t let me use links.



if you think you are a flexible person, try flying standby.

my bad karma

I don´t think I was meant to be alone in Argentina.
Last night I´m pretty sure I broke my foot outside my hotel in Palermo Hollywood, Buenos Aires.
Thanks to my wearing high heels on cobblestone roads and uneven pavement.
I´m bruised, scabby and my foot is swollen, almost unmovable, wrapped in an ACE bandage. I blame the pavement...and my significant other who has convinced me that I should wear heels more often, even though I tower over the general Argentine public.
I am 6´1-ish with said heels on. That is a long way to fall.

I can´t get a flight out of here. I´ve been on standby since last week. I missed the National Championship. I´m burned, starting to peel on my arse, which makes sitting and falling asleep a big PAIN.

I have no cell phone. My attempt to buy a cell phone was met with laughs. Oh well.
The owner of my little boutique hotel has taken a liking to me. Economically, this is good for me. I am paying half of what other patrons are paying, and I get unlimited free water bottles and speedy in-house medical attention. Besides these advantages, there are none. Ugh. Late check out times, the only hair drier in the hotel and free wine here and there are mine for the taking, too. It could be worse...


So I´ve been thinking a lot about nature vs. nurture related to travel. As in, is it more important who you´re with or where you are? There are some quotes about this. Most people like to say ¨it doesn´t matter where you are, it´s who you´re with that really matters¨ etc.
And you, the reader, probably agree. I´ve always been more on the other side. I think where you are is pretty damn important. Like, I had amazing experiences in India and France...and I´m pretty sure those were more a result of me and where I was, as opposed to who I was surrounded by. I´m pretty certain of that.

But then, enter Argentina. The first 16 days were perfect. BEST VACATION EVER. Since then...same place...and misery. Been staying alone, not going out, hibernating 80% of the time. I´m staying in a better hotel than anywhere I stayed in India....and yet, it´s not good enough, I don´t feel enlightened, and I don´t feel like exploring the city, trying new things, learning....nothing! I don´t feel like staying or going.

So, in this case I´ve got to say, it was much more important who I was with. Because without that person, the whole landscape here has changed.

The only thing I can come up with is that it doesn´t matter that much where you are OR who you are with. I think it´s all in the mindset you have coming into the new place. I look at myself in India...on a disgusting, smelly sleeper car at midnight...passing through the countryside. No AC, 100plus temperature, beggars poking me. Yet, it didn´t fluster me. I was there for a reason and I had a bit of a plan. Now, I´m in beautiful Argentina. It´s sunny and the temperature is perfect. Maybe 75 or 80. I´m in a cute, brand new hotel in the hippest part of the city. I´m surrounded by boutiques and bistros, parillas and hip bars. Life is laid back and easy here, and the locals are some of the friendliest people around. Yet, I feel lost and definitely am without my A game. More like C game. Breaking bones, not attempting to speak the language, ordering take-out sushi as if I´m afraid to be seen alone...not the broad abroad I´m SUPPOSED to be. What happened? And if you´re thinking ¨Duh Kali, you forgot your medicine!¨ You would be wrong, because I have not forgotten! I´m actually more consistent than usual!

So, as it turns out, it doesn´t matter where you are or who you´re with, but what is going on upstairs, that really matters when you travel. I think. All this to say, my brain is currently thinking about how I miss my FranFran, how I don´t want to be in cold Alabama...jobless...figuring out ¨what to do with my life¨ for the 2397th time.

(Pictures of injuries coming atcha soon!)


Argentina Updates

Last night marks the second time I have been in a cab where the driver has passed out multiple times. The first time wasn´t as scary because we were in slow stop and go traffic. This time I was sharing a hot, foul-smelling, mosquito-infested car with a nice older couple, and our morbidly obese driver had evidently not slept in a very long time.

We were speeding down the interstate at 1 a.m. in two lanes...
My fellow passenger thought it was funny. ¨He drives like me,¨ he said.
I was about to ask him to pull over and let me drive. It was that bad. Once we were off the interstate, he decided that every red light would be power-nap time. The lights don´t stay red for long in Buenos Aires. There was a lot of nudging and seat kicking...and me wishing that I had a seatbelt. Seatbelt had been broken off...

When we arrived at our hotel, the brand new Be Hollywood in Palermo Hollywood, I said ¨you go back to your casa?¨ and made a sleepy gesture. He nodded. I really hope he made it. I must say that I was impressed with his ability to open his eyes when he heard passing cars.