Food | little sarah Big World

September 2, 2012

Getting By/A Little Help/My Friends

Sitting on Eric’s bed, even though he’d offered me a chair, because I wanted to curl up, legs crossed, hug my knees.

“I just don’t want to eat anything,” I tell him. “I get shaky, so I know it’s time to eat something, but the taste means nothing to me. It just seems like the worst idea.”

I break, start to cry, and he comes over, kneels down to hug me, my wet face resting against the warm length of his upper arm. Just then Iz comes in, all sweetness and light, saying, “I brought you a smoothie, Sarah,” which makes me cry harder and laugh at the same time.

We all three of us hug. I drink the smoothie. Talk about running with Eric.

Feel a little better.

(Thank you)

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August 19, 2012

Snapshot

Sunday, August 19th, 2012

(café on 1st)

Sitting here, puzzle nearly finished, everything bagel with hummus, soy hot chocolate. A new journal, an old dress. This is me, I need to remind myself. This is me, without friends, without family or lovers. I exist. I have likes and dislikes. I have quiet, pleasing moments.

I go on.

August 14, 2012

It’s Hard to Be a Human Being

“And it’s harder as anything else”

“And I’m lonesome when you’re around”

“And I’m never lonesome when I’m by myself”

(lyrics from the song “Baby Blue Sedan” by Modest Mouse)

(again)

* * *

Not sure when this song became my life’s soundtrack, but I can’t get enough of it. It’s like my pulse, my marrow.

In other news:

-starting over

-again

-no longer half of anything

-and trying my best to be whole

August 13, 2012

Summer Ends

Last Sunday I went to a birthday picnic, in woodsy canyon area. A very summery event, indeed, complete with grilling, cocktails in mason jars, chips, dips, and coolers of ice. I wore a light summer dress, it was a good time.

Aaand…I’m ready for summer to be over. Come fall, come crisp air and flaming leaves and soft layers and new expectations.

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August 7, 2012

A Sister by Any Other Name

~OR~

Rose

(+Nicole, +Natalie)

Woke up on Saturday to a miniature cherry pie, inches from my face. “Look, Tharah.” The smell of Sculpey, and a 5-year-old’s lisp.

Little Sister Rosie slept over on Friday night. I don’t have any pictures of that, because we were too busy eating pasta, watching Don’t Eat The Pictures (Sesame Street classic), making “fairy money” with Sculpey, and having story time.

Then Saturday we were too busy buying produce and blueberry turnovers at the farmers’ market. Too busy being sisters, too special to try and document.

Quality time, I think that’s called.

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August 3, 2012

As I Please

~OR~

How to Go For a Natural High (High! High! High!)

Wednesday I walked to work, rising early and moving fast to get the blood flowing. Made it on time, too, and what a beautiful morning.

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August 2, 2012

Good Morning

~OR~

But Now Am Found

Last night I stayed up ’til nearly 2 am, writing. On paper. Laptop off, typewriter put away, just pen and ink on the page.

For 5 1/2 pages. Read the rest of this entry »

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July 12, 2012

Creature Comforts

~OR~

A Room of One’s Own…in Peru

Early on in the trip I decided that I would like to finish things in comfort, or at least relative comfort–in a private hostel room. I just figured that after all the buses and taxis and jam-packed dorms and ever-changing couch surfs–not to mention constant “companionship” from B & J–I’d want some privacy and relaxation for my brief stay (1 night only) in Lima. So I booked it, weeks out.

Then I second-guessed myself, as I’ve been known to do. “I’ve spent so much money already, and why wouldn’t I want to couch surf and meet someone who could show me the best of Lima since I’m only there one night, and I am so anti-social and lame, blerg!”

So I found a couch surf (with a girl, which is rare), cancelled my reservation, and felt I’d done the right thing.

Guess what, though? My original, non-exhausted, non-panicking self was right. The couch surf turned out to be a bust. The girl wasn’t even home, and I was supposed to stay in the care of her little sister, but then lil sis had to go to class with her house keys, which meant I needed to stay in their filthy, piss-smelling apartment in a shady part of town until the older sister (my couch surfing contact) came home. Six hours.

PANIC.

You don’t need to hear about The Panic, though. Let me just say that after several frantic phone calls, emails, and a quick escape via taxi, I was able to reclaim my previously-reserved room 1900 Backpacker’s Hostel, where I spread out and relaxed to my heart’s content.

(Big sigh of relief)

Seriously, though, I was so giddy at having my own space for the first time in nearly a month that I lied down on the floor and made something like snow angels. Then I went for a long run while listening to Adele. Then I danced around my room in joy. Then I had food from a vegan restaurant (!!!) that was just down the street.

Then I watched bootlegged American movies on the hostel’s big TV, drank beer, ate snacks, and went to bed. Happy as a clam

Moral of this story? Trust yourself. Trust that you know yourself, and do as you please.

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June 30, 2012

Home Stay

~OR~

I Could Not Have Danced All Night

As I mentioned, I was sick and bummed out on Amantani, during our home-stay. But it wasn’t all a bust, Friends! It was also very peaceful and relaxing at times.

Moreover, it was really cool to get to meet this family that I wouldn’t otherwise have met–Catalina and her 4-year-old son, Anderson (her older daughter and husband were away on errands for the weekend)–stay in their home and eat meals with them.

That was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and for that I’m grateful to have braved extreme exhaustion, lung tremors, and cultural commodification.

Oh, and did I mention…the food?!

This was honestly the best I ate the entire time in South America. Lunch was a brothy quinoa soup (with quinoa they’d grown in their own yard–I’d never seen that!) followed by roasted corn and root vegetables (including a variety of potato that was sweet yet hard, like a carrot) with fried goat cheese. We washed it all down with fresh lemon-balm tea made with whole, recently harvested herbs.

It was just what the doctor ordered. Dinner was a similar soup, followed by starch-on-starch crime–pasta and potatoes with a side of white rice. Still, though, it was home-cooked meal, and very satisfying.

I spent most of the time trying to get to know our hosts, though Anderson was shy and Catalina was having none of it. She seemed very used to having guests in her home (she’s been doing it nearly 10 years) but kept interaction to a minimum. I wanted to know, more than anything, how she felt about this experience, as to me it was such a unique clash of cultures.

But to Catalina (as I finally managed to ascertain), it’s just an easy second job, which means that she doesn’t have to work outside of the home. They host two guests, once a week, and the ends meet. Simple as that.

Then the rest of the time she can knit, talk with friends or family, and farm.

And I suppose she likes it like that? I don’t know. I spent less than 24 hours with her, and I’m reluctant to generalize (though I’m sure I already have). I guess what I mean to say is that I hope she’s happy with the arrangement. And I think it will be interesting to see the impact the constant influx of foreigners has on Anderson. For now, he seems pleased. And shy.

June 19, 2012

San Pedro de Atacama

~OR~

Back to South America

Not literally, of course. Who knows when I’ll go back? Maybe never. I’ve fully submitted myself to the whims of chance. Mostly out of laziness, but still.

The point is, I will now be writing about my adventures in the past tense (and damn glad of it, but more on that later).

* * *

When we last left off, I was on top of Macchu F***ing Pichu! What?! YES. And before that I was in La Serena. But we’ve skipped a part, Friends! Lots of parts, actually, so don’t get too set on more Macchu Pichu photos right this instant. You’ll have to wait for those. Patience, Friends.

Anyways, in addition to sunbathing and reading, Brett and I enjoyed other activities in La Serena. Namely, getting sick. Brett spent most of the time in La Serena sleeping and grumbling, while I went for runs and read outside and took photos. Then I woke up with a sore throat, the day that we left, and followed that with the most miserable overnight bus-ride of my life. Only to arrive in San Pedro de Atacama (pictured above), with aches and chills.

Let me tell you, the Chilean desert is not a great place to nurse a sore throat.

But there were kitties!

And there was an overpriced barbecue which I signed up for mainly for the 3 glasses of wine. Because drinking when I’m sick eases my symptoms, although Brett’s friend Josh unkindly informed me that it’s “really bad for you.” Whatever. He also said that your lymph nodes under your neck are tonsils, so…

The hostel we stayed at (pictured above) was actually not too bad a place to be sick–plenty of sunshine, hammocks, hot water for up to 3 minutes, etc. They organized all sorts of excursions and events, like the barbecue, and we met friendly and interesting people from all over the world–a Chilean astrophysicist/musician, an English couple who’d saved up for years and then quit their jobs to travel together for a year, some pleasant girls from Iceland…lots of stories there.

The astrophysicist was named Sebastian, and he gave me my first charango lesson then cancelled plans with his friends to have dinner with me. I wrote in my journal that I was pretty sure he was into me, but that I just wanted a change of company and a solid, vegan meal.

You see, it was in San Pedro that I began to seriously reconsider traveling with Brett and Josh. But that’s another story…

* * *

To be continued!

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Category: Food