Its like I never left Brazil. Everyone has bodies that look like they have done cocaine and pushups their whole lives. Havaianas, sunglasses and cocktails are all I see.

Also, every shirt says “I Am In Miami Bitch” and not because of the LMFAO song, but because its so hot and humid here that every sentence just needs to end with a bitch.

Joe: This is actually nice for Miami. Between the loads of hair gel in this city and the weather, I feel like I live in lucifer’s armpit.

Still though, the city is gorgeous….bitch.


Sorry I haven’t updated. But I am in effing Rio De Janeiro. Updating the blog is the last thing on my mind and the only reason I am doing it now is because I am so incredibly hungover and tired that the only thing I can move is my fingers across my keyboard.

And I have to change hostels in a couple of minutes.
UGH.

Last night we were in Lapa, where a huge street party is held. Im serious, one that can rival any big night in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. It happens here every Friday just for funsies.

Samba in the clubs. Capoeira in the streets. Extreme alcoholic drinks that cost 2 dollars. = Insanely good fun.

Me: So where did you go to school?
Her: Oh, University of Washington.
Me: ME TOO!!!
Her: FELLOW HUSKY! What year you graduate?
Me: 2006
Her: ME TOO!!!!!!
Me: Did you live in the dorms?
Her: Yeah, Lander and McCarty.
Me: ME TOO!!!!!!!
Her: AHHHHH!!!!!!
Me: AAHHHHH!!!!!!!

Back home soon. Crazy. Almost as crazy as the 40+ hour commute to get there.

  • When we are in a cab and they hear us speak English, they automatically think they can screw us. I can’t tell you how many times we have gone to one place only to find out that when we come back its 10 pesos cheaper. This lets us know that the cab driver who drove us there earlier took the nice LONG way there. Wretched.
  • Although I love it when I catch them. They start to go one way and I ask “Where are you going? Shouldn’t you just take Avenida De Mayo?” Then the cab driver finds out we fully understand Spanish and now he knows that I know he was trying to screw us. Its extremely uncomfortable for him and its a moment I treasure. (This never happened in a cab in Peru since I would just close my eyes and hope that I would survive).
  • Music in cabs is always an adventure. When I am in a new city or town, and riding in a cab, they usually have some local music on. It’s awesome driving around in a new country listening to something that the locals themselves enjoy. What’s not awesome is when they find out you are a foreigner and completely change the music thinking you want to hear it. We spent an good two hours one day in Peru listening to Bob Marley. I never want to hear No Woman No Cry ever again.
  • We rode in a hired cab one day. The car was full and after about three hours we found out there was a teenage girl in the back of the car sitting in a tiny corner next to the luggage. We found out she was the cab drivers daughter and she was forced to sit back there for that long since he wanted his “shuttle” to get full with as many fares as he could get.
  • I think ever cab driver in South America has tried to kill us (or scare us to death) for funsies.
  • In a shuttle to Manuel Antonio in Costa Rica, our new friend Beth (a future medical student at Columbia) was so hungover and car sick from the death defying hairpin cliff turns in Costa Rica that she began to vomit in the shuttle into a trash can. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I hear and see someone vomiting, that also elicits a bad response from me. I was not the only one. When we pulled over almost everyone in the shuttle said that they couldn’t see her vomit or they themselves would vomit. She was forced to sit up front after that. Bad times.
  • Getting in a cab in Lima, Peru is SERIOUSLY a bad decision on your personal safety. I can’t stress this enough. I would gladly go into a Tuk Tuk with a drunk driver in Bangkok then ever take a cab in Lima again.
  • I love that Argentina has metered taxis, which doesn’t require 3 hours of me trying to haggle a fair price to go anywhere.

Anywho, I know this is random post, but It is our last day in Argentina and it is raining and freezing outside so I am bored to death. Cynthia is underneath the blankets in our room refusing to move.

Even if it does rain, I hope Rio is warmer.


Thank you Uruguay. It was like a food Angel coming down from the heavens and licked the inside of my mouth.

It was also a huge piece of steak. I couldn’t even finish half of it.

Speaking of food, Dalina told me right at the start of our two week adventure in Argentina that Buenos Aires has a high percentage of people with Anorexic and Bullemic  problems. I believe it completely. They are so skinny yet all there is to eat here is carbs galore. Bread, Pizza, Empanadas and Pastas; food with such high calories that no wonder they smoke and throw up all the time.

This also tells you that on this trip. I have NOT lost any weight.

Mucho cardio when I get back home for sure.

Writing about or posting pictures of Iguazu Falls seems silly to me. There is nothing in the world that could possibly explain the wonder of the falls than actually being there yourself. Nothing. Not even the best photographer or videographer in the world could capture the image (and noise) of that cascading water coming from a river that is split between Argentina and Brazil.

I will steal an excerpt from my friend Laura:

“I will happily shell out fistfuls of pesos, trek obediently along well-worn trails with other travelers, stand and wait for trains and busses and shuttles and my turn to come, if the end result is having the massive good fortune to be able to see a wonder of the world like this.”

Every since I saw The Mission in class on day, with the Christ like figure going over the falls, I knew that one day I wanted to see them myself. The 40 hours total we spent on a bus, the frigid temperatures, the massive amount of rain and the outrageous prices did not in any way lesson the experience for me. I felt so lucky, and it was one of those feelings when you should give yourself, completely, to the golden, fate-filled moment.

Then, I bought a blow dart from a Guaraní warrior.

This song should be required to be played at all times at the “Garganta Del Diablo”.