Freedom

 

 

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free, so let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. Choose life that you might LIVE. The Lord commanded us to obey all these decrees and to fear God for OUR GOOD always, and to preserve our lives. For we will be counted righteous when we obey all the commands the Lord has given us: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. Hear and be careful to do my commands, that it may go well with you, for I have come that you may have life, and have it abundantly.”

 

O Lord, I have called on your name from the depths of the pit, and you heard my plea. You came near when I called and told me not to fear. You have taken up my cause and redeemed my life. You have brought me out of darkness into your marvelous light. Now there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Whoever believes in you will not be put to shame. My guilt is taken away, and you let me forget the shame of my youth.

 

I don’t mean to say that I have already achieved perfection, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead. I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward. I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ. He is my portion, therefore I will hope in Him.

 

In running with perseverance the race marked out for us, God will generously provide all we need, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, we may abound in every good work. Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God. Your grace is sufficient for us, and you are able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to your power at work within us. For your divine power is made perfect in weakness and has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness. You equip us with everything good that we may do your will. We partake in Christ's divine nature, and through faith with virtue, we are kept from being ineffective and unfruitful in the knowledge of Christ. May we be filled with the knowledge of your will so that we will walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to you and bearing fruit in every good work. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom!!

The Empire

The empire. It rules with a hard fist. It dominates and conquers. It grows and produces; it lives and lives on.

Every year there's a new harvest, but the worst storms never bring famine. Hunger maybe, but only for a time. Resilience is a powerful soil.

The harvests began years ago, when the past was the present, old things were new, and dreams weren't mist. A city was laid. A city built by the hands of dreamers.

Bleeding hands and sweating brows of the determined formed the infrastructure of progress and hope. Our family - who turned on their villages, flags, kin, and lovers - erected a child on wobbly knees, who they only hoped would later learn to walk firm and fierce as an adult.

Endless labor and stars within reach, their vision was secured. They fought for their dream, they strained and bruised for the sake of a future, for life, for quality. But quality and breath were not theirs. They forsook the familiar and the ease for the sake of their children, and children's children, and... me.

Comfort, knowledge, convenience, efficiency, opportunity and wealth unimaginable - now not at my fingertips but in my hands, filling my fists and spilling over.

Mine, ours. Real, full life - lived out as the dream of fighters, those sweat-stained laborers and dreamers.
The city carries on. Life IS, all the more. Man has become one, everyone leveled together.

The wheel spins. The grapes burst on the vine. Mortality - humanity - has never seemed so close.

So many sights, sounds, smells. So real, so rich. Suffocating and drowning, yet enticing and drawing. The world grins indifference at each one and bears its terrible white bite at existence. Soft daylight beckons skepticism and the darkness of night reveals all.
 
New York - The city where mortality presents itself boldly and greets men warmly on streets. The sirens, the shrill piercing. The mysterious closed doors and sterile white staircases. The stars falling from the morning sky. The growling dogs. Always the unspoken fear, the apprehension secretly and quietly wrapping up the human heart, trumpeting around as determination, masquerading as a fight for the future. Real terrors, nightmares come alive, on top of dreams come true. A gnawing suspicion, uniting each stranger, yet distancing them in the grand moments of freedom when eyes lock and gazes hold fast, only for a brief instant, then furtively return to the world of independence and conquering.

Dragon devours dragon, and eagle befriends mouse. All are enemies, yet all war together.
Life, sleep, war - all conquered together as one.

The city of dreams, the city of the world, with no space to see it. No room to enjoy it. Best friends, neighbors, sidewalk-sharers - all together, all on the island, reaching out to the stars for space.
 
The ends of the earth have found their home together, every corner whispering new opportunities. There is no want. The world is here. The only place left to go is up.

5 Reasons People Never Go to Costa Rica Only Once

Originally posted on November 2, 2012 by globeaware

 

After hours of mulling over hundreds of pictures of Costa Rica in the office one day (that’s what happens when you work in the travel business), I decided that I just couldn’t stand anymore. Seeing Costa Rica from a swivel chair behind a desk is just not as satisfying as being there in person. So I checked my bank account, arranged my scheduled, and bought tickets three weeks out for a quick, spontaneous trip to the tropical paradise.

Amongst the sputtering volcanoes, paradisiacal hot springs, rumbling earthquakes, and cascading waterfalls, I discovered the magic and charm of the popular and beloved country. Ironically, my adventures brought me across the path of numerous individuals who have also fallen in love with the country. It didn’t take long to figure out that there’s something a little bit addicting about the Rich Coast. I’ve spoken with families who travel biannually with their children, volunteers that have spent every work or school holiday helping out in the rainforest, honeymooners who inevitably return for an anniversary celebration, and friends traveling together who return home after a week, only to decide to quit their jobs, sell their houses, and return to Costa Rica for good.

So what is it that draws these visitors in and guarantees that life will never be the same again without regular trips to their favorite country? In my few days there, I picked up on a few keys to the magic of Costa Rica that will ensure that once you visit, you will absolutely return:

1. Days start at 5:30 am. 

If you’re anything like me and a complete night owl, that sounds perfectly horrible. But when an entire society is set up to start earlier, then that means it also ends earlier, so there’s still plenty of time for a good night’s rest. With dinner at 5 and shops that close shortly thereafter, you won’t find too many activities tempting you to stay out late. Not surprisingly, a morning walk on the streets at the crack of dawn (literally… the sun rises at 5:30 year round) promises a bustling atmosphere full of workers, travelers, and rush hour traffic. The benefit of such an early schedule? Well, with a climate that guarantees rain in the afternoon every day for six months out of the year, you learn to adapt to be awake when there’s actually going to be sunshine. Plus, I believe we can all recall Ben’s wise advice to help us become people who are healthy, wealthy, and wise.

2. Costa Rica has 12 active volcanoes.

And this doesn’t send people running? No – it actually does the opposite! Despite their active status, Costa Rica’s volcanoes draw in hundreds of thousands of tourists every year. Not only do lava and billowing smoke out of mountain tops make great tourist attractions, but so do the natural hot springs at the base that are formed as a result of the volcanic environment. For those looking for a relaxing resort vacation, a refreshing day at the spa, or a cocktail drink by the poolside, these pools and hot tubs filled completely with natural water from the mountain springs are the place to be. It’s kind of like Mother Nature’s Jacuzzi. And if a bath in steaming natural springs in the forest wasn’t enough already, add in the picturesque view of a smoking volcano in the background. Like I said – paradise.

3. You can experience it all without having to go very far.

If you want to experience exhilarating adventures in the mountains, warm and crystal clear beaches, the tropical bliss of the jungles, and the busyness of activities in the city, Costa Rica is the place to be. From the U.S, it’s easy to find plenty of options for non-stop flights straight into San Jose. Plus, it’s only a hop, skip, and a jump from your home territory – a relatively short flight compared to most international trips. Once in San Jose, visitors can meander through the downtown, tour the national theater, shop in local farmers markets, and kick back in the plazas. Amazingly, just a few hours outside of the city are boundless opportunities for adventure and thrill.  National parks spread out among every corner of the country and promise the outdoor adventurists endless chances for some true oneness with nature. If you’re looking for a little change of scenery, visit one of Costa Rica’s unforgettable beaches. Only two hours away from the city is the Manuel Antonio beach, one of finest in the country. From snorkeling to kayaking to zip lining, you’re sure to get a taste of the addicting beauty that will keep you coming back!

4. Pura Vida

More than just the most commonly used phrase in the country, pura vida encompasses everything it means to be Costa Rican. A simple phrase that literally translates to “pure life,” Pura Vida expresses the simple life that Costa Ricans are so well-known for – chilling out, enjoying family and friends, and appreciating the beauty of their country around them. This popular phrase essentially carries a meaning similar to hakuna matata, and it doesn’t take long once you’re there to adopt the phrase and apply it to your own life. Pura vida may open up a conversation, be a response to describe how someone’s doing, or be parting words between friends. Moreover, however, it’s a philosophy that guides Ticos and Ticas in their way of life. Consequently, a Tico or Tica may be one of the friendliest people you’ll ever meet. There’s no such thing as a stranger in Costa Rica, but everyone treats each other with respect and with the familiarity of friendship. Whether you’re a tourist or local, you can be assured that everyone you encounter will exude the happiness and peace that is so characteristic of the country that makes everyone feel at home.

5. Costa Rica is not actually a third world country.

Somehow, our society has developed this idea of Costa Rica as being a third-world country. That’s just not true. For starters, the term third-world became popular years ago but is now outdated. Plus, Costa Rica is now considered a high developing country, with poverty rapidly decreasing. In fact, it’s now one of the most stable countries in Central America and boasts a fantastic and challenging education system, producing literacy rates of almost 95%. Not only that, but visitors to Costa Rica will quickly notice how modernized the country has become. We may not want to admit it, but let’s face it: Americans like what is familiar and comfortable to them. Thanks to all the new developments and growth in Costa Rica, plenty of those familiarities are now popping up all over the country. From clean, well-kept bathrooms (a rarity abroad) to your favorite fast-food chains, Costa Rica offers a taste of the uniqueness of other cultures while still providing plenty of the comforts that make us feel at home. And you wonder why people keep going back! ;)



Whether it’s the natural beauty, the calm and simple lifestyle, or the comfort and ease of an overseas journey, Costa Rica seems to have something to offer to everyone. It is filled with a unique magic that satisfies, yet always leaves you wanting more. Take a trip to the natural paradise and it’s guaranteed that someday, you will be back again.

Stop Fearing, Start Living, and GO

Originally posted October 1, 2012 by globeaware

 

 

The plane gently jolted and bumped in the cloudy midnight sky. The only sound in the hushed plane was the steady breathing of sleeping passengers and the occasional jostling of their belongings. It was quiet and mostly still, except for the roaring hum of the engine that was rocking everyone to sleep.

 

Everyone except me, that is.

 

I stretched out onto the extra seat next to me and laid down comfortably, closing my eyes and hoping the endless minutes would go by faster. But I was wide awake. A million thoughts whirled through my head.

 

 

What time was it? Where in the world were we? How was it possible to leave in the morning, fly for 10 hours, and then arrive in the morning? Did we just eat lunch or was that dinner? When was this Twilight zone feeling time warp going to end? And most importantly…

 

When will it be my birthday?

 

I had boarded the plane as a 16 year old virgin traveler on June 10, but I knew that with the time zone change during the flight, the special day of June 11th wasn’t far off. By the time our plane landed in London, I felt like an expert traveler after enduring my first overseas flight, not to mention that I had freshly turned 17 years old several hours before and still had another full day to celebrate.

 

I finally discovered the trick to extending birthday celebrations

 

 

With tired and dreary eyes but an awakened and excited spirit, I absorbed the beauty of every iconic site we passed by. I was awestruck by the ancient wonders my eyes were beholding; things I had only ever read about or seen on TV were actually real, and they were more incredible than I could have ever imagined.

The world had finally been opened to me, and it was right there at my fingertips, within my reach.

~~~

 

 

That first transatlantic journey aroused in me a sense of adventure and passion for exploration and discovery that I didn’t know existed within me. From that point forward, nothing could stop me from turning down an adventure or opportunity to travel to new places.

 

A few more family vacations through Europe and I was soon itching to see more of the world, parts my family had never even dreamed of going to.

 

It wasn’t long before I signed up to go teach English in Korea over the summer, and to be honest, the trip changed my entire life.

 

It was a different kind of traveling. It was so far, so different, so exotic. It wasn’t vacation, it was a chance to engage in the culture and work directly in the midst of a people so different from myself. For once I wasn’t a tourist, I was contributing to the Korean society, to the world – and I was on the biggest adventure of my life.

 

 

Since then I haven’t stopped. I can’t get enough of diverse cultures, flavorful cuisines, and opposite perspectives on life and existence. On more than one occasion, I’ve jumped on a plane with very short notice, and whizzed off to live for several months in other countries.

 

People think I’m crazy.

 

My friends don’t understand how I do it.

 

Everyone always asks how I am so courageous.

 

The thing is – I’ve never once thought about it as being daring or courageous. I just have a passion, so I follow it. And I guess sometimes that means taking risks to get there.

 

 

Most of the people who ask me about my travels are absolutely fascinated by it. They talk about how it’s their lifelong dream to be able to do some of the things they see in my pictures.

 

But sadly, they never go.

 

I’m not sure what stops people – if it’s money, jobs, habits…

 

But I think most of the time it’s just fear.

 

Fear of change, fear of something new, fear of something different or uncomfortable. Fear of the unknown or fear of feeling out of place.

 

When it comes down to it, the only thing stopping you from living your adventure is… well, You.

 

Traveling doesn’t take a ton of money, contrary to what most people think. It takes a willingness to GO, an openness to other cultures and mindsets, and a sense of adventure that’s eager to learn and explore.

 

You can spend your whole life dreaming. Or you can take the first step, take a risk, and dive into the greatest adventure of your life.

 

If you want to go, go.

 

 

If you want to see the world, stop making excuses. And stop being afraid. Fear will never lead you on an adventure. It might keep you safe, it might keep you comfortable, but life is meant to be LIVED.

 

Take a risk. Learn to live. And get ready for a life of adventure, discovery, and passion.

 

I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s the absolute best kind of life to live.

The Russian Shack

 

Our midnight bus ride across the Russian countryside promised anything but comfort, ease, and brevity. As the half-sized bus pummeled across worn highways, I hugged my knees close to my chest and tilted my chin to the ceiling, fatigued and desperate for clean,  crisp air. The air was thick and sticky, yet the hairs on my arms stood on end from the chilly breeze wafting in through the cracked window. The sun had long departed, but the summer sky still offered a murky twilight. Sinister moon beams shone down as leftover sun rays peeped from below the horizon, reminding us that night would never truly come. In the soft midnight glow, I could see the jumbled mess of my exhausted friends, collapsed on each other in an attempt to disappear into the world of sleep before dawn’s premature arrival.

 

Our destination was Moscow, but three hours into the trip I was nearly convinced I would never survive the entire journey.

 

The quiet peacefulness was abruptly interrupted as the driver jerked the bus onto a rugged gravel road.  Eyes blinked open. Mouths yawned wide. Bodies stirred, and the bus halted.

 

 

Our one and only rest stop for the night.

 

I reluctantly exited the van along with the other passengers and found myself in the eerie shadows of majestic birch trees. On the other side of the van, away from the road, a small wooded shack stood mostly upright in a clearing, lit by a lone fluorescent bulb. Two tattered doors on opposite sides of the shack welcomed desperate road travelers. Predictably, they repulsed anyone else.

At first I refused. I could not… I would not bring myself to enter.

 

But those few drops of water that I had frantically splashed down an hour earlier in the muggy night air danced in my mind, reminding me of their imminent persecution.

 

We were only halfway to our destination. Refusal guaranteed misery long before our arrival. I had no choice.

 

I shuffled my feet hesitantly in the dirt, steering myself toward the illuminated shack. Thirty paces to go, and my body was violently repelled, as if I had catapulted myself directly into a brick wall, erected to prevent anyone from drawing nearer.

 

But this was no wall of bricks. No… the invisible barrier was a thick wall of stench - toxic fumes that stifled my airways when I breathed in the night air.  I looked up at the shack and knew exactly where the rancid odor was emanating from.

 

 

I felt suffocated. I was repulsed. And we were still thirty paces away.

 

To my luck, one of my travel companions had matched my thought process after waking from her restless bus slumber and arrived at the same conclusion: there was no choice.

 

With heads spinning and lungs gagging for clean air, my companion and I turned to each other and silently nodded. Our bold and courageous eyes signaled to each other mutual dedication to the unbearable task at hand. She handed me my life-saver: a soft tissue she had retrieved from the pack she carried with her.

 

Some of us travelers are never as prepared as we ought to be.

I quickly placed the tissue near my nose, bracing myself to plow head-on into the wall of stench.

3…2…1…

 

I gasped in the last bit of fresh air I could trace, sucking it deep down into my lungs, expanding my chest until it felt as if it would burst open. Then I pounded my body through the fog of putrescence, sprinting for the shack as fast as my feet would carry me. We flung open the dilapidated doors on both sides of the shack.

 

If I had had enough time (and air) to stop and think, I would have questioned the sanitation and safety of every aspect of the enclosure. There was nothing but a hole in the ground, with two filthy pieces of damp wood slapped on either side. Had I thought about it, I would have noticed the foot prints in the muck and refuse covering the entirety of the ground. But all I thought about was how swiftly I could accomplish the task and exit this hell hole.

 

And so I did. But as I uncomfortably perched myself above the dark, dank hole, my air supply began to wane. My chest slowly caved inwards and my lungs began to burn. I wanted…needed… so badly to gasp for air.

 

 

And thus my saving grace – the tissue. Securing my mouth and nose, I shielded myself from the stench surrounding me. I did not dare gulp for air; only a slight inhale to replenish my body enough to sustain myself for the next few seconds.

 

The door slammed next to me. My friend was already escaping. I removed the tissue from my nose and found proper use for it.  I attempted to re-situate myself without sullying any of my clothing in the mysterious substances around me. Then I bolted.

 

The whole escapade lasted no more than 20 seconds.

 

We climbed back into the bus, sighing with relief that we had successfully accomplished our hazardous mission. The rest of our travel companions did not seem to find triumph in our endeavors.  Immediately, they were struck by the same pungent scent that we had just barreled through.

Except this time it wasn’t coming from the shack.

 

My friend and I sniffed around like canines, desperately trying to locate the smell. We landed in despair in front of each other. And we were swallowed in anguish when we realized how deep the odor had seeped into us.

 

Hair, shirt, skin….

 

And it had only been 20 seconds.

 

I slunk back into my uncomfortable seat, exasperated by the foul fumes coming from me. The other passengers turned away in disgust. I pulled my knees back up to my chest and tilted my head toward the ceiling, hoping I might catch a whiff of the cool draft coming in through the cracked window.

 

It was going to be a long drive to Moscow.

 

 

 

Originally posted by Globe Aware Volunteer Vacations.

Better Together - A Guest Blog

So... my best friend Rachel moved to Costa Rica for the semester. You should already know where this story is going.

Naturally, I had to go visit :) 

I'm learning lately that it's pretty impossible these days to move overseas and not share your journey online in some form or another. So with some personal motivation (and a little encouragement on my end), Rachel started her own blog about  her Costa Rican adventures. 

I hate to admit it, but she totally puts me to shame. Now that I'm back in my home territory and not living overseas, I rarely blog anymore. Rachel, on the other hand, is pumping out like three fantastic blog posts a week! The only time I can find anything to write about anymore is when I take awesome and exotic trips... like my most recent one to Costa Rica. Determined to blog again, I came home from my trip with every great intention to write about my time there. But after procrastinating for a few days, I received a message from Rachel excitedly sharing with me her new blog post about our vacation together. After reading it, I knew there was no way I could write it any better, and no details I could have described more perfectly than the way she did.  

But of course I still want to share about my Costa Rican adventure, so I told her I'm stealing her blog, and she gets to be a "guest-blogger" on mine. So here's a chance for you to experience some world-traveling through a new set of eyes (probably a little more realistic too...) and to enjoy a wonderful blog post by my talented and hilarious friend Rachel!


Last week I was so excited to have the beautiful and talented Sarah Hetrick come to visit me here in Costa Rica! Even though she could stay for only about 3 ½ days, we definitely made the most of it.  Jack Johnson was right when he sang, “It’s always better when we’re together.” Granted, he was referring to those romantic lovers sort of relationships, but I think it still applies. Having a friend to laugh with, adventure with, dream with, travel with, and talk about life with makes everything much more worthwhile.



We started out our little adventure spending time in the city center of San Jose.  Just walking down the Avenida Central was a feast for the senses – the smell of produce, the feel of “light” rain, and the cacophony of people shouting out their prices, playing music, and trying to get a glance at those foreign gals. {ya, I mean us. }.  After being here for almost two months, I was used to coming downtown so I started at my usual pace heading thru the street – though I learned very quickly that going anywhere with a professional photographer {ie: Sarah} means stopping every two feet or so for a photo shoot.  Let me tell ya, getting anywhere just became a whole new ballgame when you are looking at everything literally through a lens.  I realized how taking a gazillion photos – as touristy and cliché as it can be- is such a wonderful point of connection to meet people and really is a unique way to travel {And who I am foolin? We’re tourists. So we get to look like ones}.  It made me slow down, take in the moment, and meet all kinds of people to take pictures of or to have ours taken by them – people I probably would never have talked to before.  We made our way to the National Theatre and got to tour inside, which was gorgeous. Since it started to pour outside, we decided to spend some time in the café inside the theatre. It felt like we just stepped into Europe.  We ordered a light lunch and I tried my first cup of Costa Rican coffee that would turn any committed tea-drinker to the “dark” side {Guilty!}. A couple hours passed as we talked and shared with each other for the precious time that we had.  You know you have a good friend when you can forget where you are and just get lost in conversation.  It was one of those talks that I will remember forever.



The next day, we woke up at 4:45am {WHOA, what?! Yeah, ya heard me. 4:45am!} so that we could catch the 6:15 bus to La Fortuna.  You know it had to be worth it to get two people like me and Sarah up at that forsaken hour.  And dare I say it, it was worth it.   The drive was stunning with beautiful, endless green that gave creed to why Costa Rica is referred to as the Switzerland of Latin America.
 

We finally made it to La Fortuna – famous for its volcano, Arenal {which happened to just start smoking two days before we got there after zero activity in the last two years. Yahoo!}.  And what do you get with a hot active volcano? Hot springs! After waking up early and sitting on a bus for nearly four hours, spending time relaxing and sitting in God’s natural Jacuzzi all day was the perfect plan.  We ended our trip the next day heading out early to go swimming next to the waterfall “Cataratas.”  Again, this was a famous tourist spot to go to – but for good reason. It was breathtaking. I can just let the picture speak for itself.




So 3 1/2 days, one capital city, two 4-hour bus rides, volcano, hot springs, earthquake, {oh yeah, did I mention there was a 6.6 earthquake while we were there? no big} and a waterfall later, Sarah’s visit had ended. And what a wonderful time it was!! Cuz it’s always better together.
{Note: when you’re with a photographer and the storage on your camera is full, you get about four pics to show for your end of the trip. haha. If you want to check out some of her photos though, {she is suuuper talented} you can go to Sarah Hetrick Photography on Facebook. It’s worth a look!}
 
And there ya have it! My exciting and quick trip to Costa Rica... and I couldn't have recounted it better myself! (And I promise - I didn't pay or bribe her for any of those endorsements :-P) If you want to read more from Rachel, check out her blog - it's really fantastic!

How to Go to Italy Without Crossing the Atlantic

Day five of my trip to New England was the last and greatest adventure, the biggest and grandest so far for the week: Boston. While we may enjoy small towns at periods in our lives, Madeleine and I are city girls at heart, and nothing beats the exhilarating rush of conquering a new city together. The minute we drove on the bridge over the harbor to enter the city, the brick buildings and slender red chimneys arose with their historic splendor on the skyline. I knew instantly the city would be just as magnificent now as it was to my twelve year old eyes so many years ago when I came with my family.

Boston did not let me down.

From what I remembered, Boston was beautiful, had great food, great shopping, and tons of fascinating history. When I got to see it all again years later, this time with a well-traveled adult's perspective, I learned that Boston is actually rich in eclectic culture from all over the world, as well as an intriguing and integral location in our country's history. And like any city, it has plenty of chaos and commotion. Madeleine and I encountered our first obstacle in Boston when we tried to find parking. We had two options: pay $30 for the day in a garage or park in a cheap meter where only two hour parking was allowed. Naturally, we opted for the cheaper route, ensuring ourselves we'd be in a perpetual time crunch for the rest of the day. After running back to the car twice after our meter had been several minutes over, we began to feel invincible to the giants of Boston's parking nazis.

Whoops.

I tried to remind Madeleine that Boston isn't quite like Maine where a person can park wherever they want and not have to worry about the consequences, but I'm not really sure she believed me. On our third and final time racing against the clock to get back to our car in time, Madeleine suggested taking a detour to enjoy the view of the harbor. Good thing I talked her out of it, because upon our arrival ten minutes after our meter expired, we found a bright orange piece of paper tucked onto our windshield. 

Guess third time's not always the charm?

We didn't let it bother us too much because our evening had already been filled with fun festivities, and it had only just begun. During our walking tour of the city earlier in the afternoon, we learned that there was an Italian section of Boston called the North End. As you can only imagine, we were ecstatic. We hurried over to the area with great anticipation of what we might find and squealed the moment we set foot in the Italian environment. A friendly policeman informed us that there was a huge Italian festival going on that evening called St. Anthony's Feast. It was guaranteed to have all sorts of Italian booths, food tables, activities, and of course, plenty of handsome young Italian men.

We didn't even give the policeman a chance to finish explaining before we were off in a frenzy, whizzing through the maze of streets to locate things reminiscent of the people, country, and culture that we both love so much and that united us together in the first place. 

I wish I could tell you how fantastic the festival was and how there were Italians running rampant throughout the streets and everyone was speaking Italian and there was authentic pasta and pizza everywhere.... but in reality it was quite different. All that existed to be sure, but most of what we found was only the American version of what Italians are, or more precisely, the Boston version of Italians. After trying a few samples of ravioli and hearing more Boston accents than Italian, Madeleine and I gave up and decided we could probably find more true Italians roaming the streets near the touristy sites than in the middle of this festival. 

We navigated our way out of the festival and back into the North End, keeping an eye out for a good place to eat dinner (or more so trying to find a place we could afford since they all looked absolutely delicious!). We knew that if we were going to eat some incredible Italian pasta, we would also want some wine to go with it, but we weren't too keen on spending a lot of money on expensive glasses of wine at a restaurant. Instead, Madeleine and I decided to buy some Umbrian red wine at a cute little wine shop on the corner. Our dilemma then was to find a way to open the bottle, apparently not a very easy task in our country if you're not at home or in a restaurant. Asking around to others on the street proved unsuccessful, as did trying to borrow a wine key from a restaurant (definitely wouldn't suggest trying that one...). We both reminisced for a moment back to our days in Italy when Italians would sit out in the piazzas and share a bottle of wine with each other and how we wished things were the same in the U.S.

Ironically, as we were walking past the harbor (back to our car again for the millionth time), we spotted them: the Italians. It was all too obvious to us: 5 very European looking young people sitting casually in a circle right next to the water, talking, laughing, wearing skinny jeans, and enjoying whatever was in their small plastic cups. We knew we had struck gold. Madeleine nudged me to go up and talk to them since I'm apparently so good at striking up conversation with strangers. But I told her there are certain conversations that even I don't know how to breach without feeling awkward.

Needless to say, Madeleine was the hero of the story and casually walked up to the Italians (who ended up being from Florence!) and eventually asked to borrow their wine opener that we knew they had to have. Mission accomplished, and conversation starting to feel a little uncomfortable, we thanked them, wished them Buon Viaggio, and continued on with our next task of the evening: finding a restaurant. 

Where we ended up was perfect. The man in the wine shop had suggested a restaurant to us and told us the Italian owner would "take care of us," which he did by allowing us to sit in a special upstairs patio room. We indulged in our favorite pasta dishes and let the world fade away as we ate dinner true Italian style - talking, laughing, lingering, crying, sharing, savoring. I almost forgot there was a room full of people around us until our waiter came up (we had specifically requested to talk with the one real Italian server there) and said in a melodic voice that made us both melt, "Tutto a posto?" And for a moment we didn't even know that the Colosseum wasn't right down the road and the streets weren't buzzing with the hum of scooters and crazy Italian drivers. 

That dinner was one of the best parts of the trip. The dynamic conversation, the divine pasta, and the familiar and comfortable Italian atmosphere all contributed to the perfect last dinner of Sarah and Madeleine. 

But the night didn't end there.  

We headed home to change and get ready for an evening out on the town. Taking up a suggestion from our host in Boston, we concluded we would stay within walking distance of our apartment to make it easy to get back since we both had to be up early to travel the next morning. The nightlife reminded me a lot of Dallas and the scene was certainly hopping and crowded, but we managed to make our way into an Irish pub without too much of a delay. What came next will be of absolute no surprise to you: we found some Italians and of course immediately became friends. I can't even remember who started the conversation or how, but next thing I knew Madeleine and I were immersed in a full on Italian conversation in the middle of an Irish pub in the U.S. 

Life is so great :) 

Our efforts to go dancing failed as a result of too casual of clothing our group was wearing that night, but we didn't mind the midnight walk we took through the city, just wandering around, hanging out, and learning more about our Italian friends. It kind of felt like... well... Italy :)

And no other traditional Italian night can end any other way than with a late night piece of pizza and a long walk home.

Our Italian friends walked us home to make sure we arrived safely. I'm pretty sure the most dangerous thing on the streets were the cat sized rats that were running around in front of the apartment, but we managed to slip in without having a face to face encounter with one of those. By the time we got home, it was almost 5 am and Madeleine had to be leaving around 7. But when we finally sat down in bed, we couldn't even fall asleep. It felt like we had just walked out of a dream, and we couldn't believe all the great experiences from the previous day were actually real.

Without even leaving my own country, I felt like I had just stepped into a small piece of Italy, the country I love so much, and I got to do it and be there for just a few moments with one of my best friends. :)

You could read the whole blog, but really all you need to know about our time in Boston is pretty much summed up in this one picture ;)