cross country skiing

Cross country skiing: oh my goodness. many points to be made:

1) WORK OUT OF MY LIFE. i am such a weakling and must improve.

2) such beautiful scenery that you get to appreciate in complete silence and solitude--> no kiddies crashing in front of you here!

3) easy! i mean, will slice pounds off of you every time you insert your foot into the oh-so-comfortable shoe, but the technique is very simple for basic cross country. 

4) cheap: renting the gear is $15 a day, and some of the routes are $15 per day, but most are free. this is compared to the $30 of skis and the $92 day pass for alpine skiing here (thank GOODNESS i can get free passes, this whole trip would have been unfeasible if not!). 

5) practical: your skis weigh nothing at all, and again, the shoes are normal shoes that you can run around in. you have to wear close to no clothing because you work up such a sweat, and it is very difficult to injure yourself.

it's a completely different sport, though. you wouldn't go cross country for any of the reasons you would go alpine, besides for something to do with a lot of snow on the ground. cross country is about the aerobic exercise while slowly enjoying the beautiful, remote and abandoned surroundings on relatively flat lands. alpine is about the adrenaline, the thrill, how steep can you go, how much can it burn, how much can you pull off without injury. 

the scenery is absolutely stunning. the entire area of French Gulch is not accessible by car in the winter (ie if something goes wrong, you gotta hope you're on God's good side!), and the ungroomed roads are the paths for xc or snowshoeing. the path is dotted with beautiful cabins and log homes that are reached by snowmobile from the road in winter, which i can only imagine makes for some pretty interesting major grocery shopping trips. but the perfect stillness of the colorado outback coated in pristine snow must be pretty darn worth it. absolute silence. impeccable white. massive sloping mountains ahead. every so often, a remote trace of wildlife (the mobile players, like elk or deer head to lower altitudes in winter, and the bears are sleeping, but wolves, coyote and moose are common sighting on the trails). fellow xc skiiers on the trails salute and thank the person that went ahead for breaking trail, and many bring their dogs and children (same category) along. a really great experience, to be repeated hopefully this week!

Snow sculpting competition

http://www.gobreck.com/page.php?pname=ISSC/09photo&mode=view

This past week, I had the chance volunteer with the great group of Breckenridge event planners at this wonderful local initiative that is growing so quickly in fame, size and deserved recognition every year. As you can see on the site, the artists are from around the world, and there is no cash prize, only 'glory'! All sorts of businesses in Breck donate their services; the artists eat for free in some of the finest dining, their stay is free thanks to the lodging that accommodates them, they get massages at the end of the day, and they can even ski for free on the town of Breck. I really like the event because it's been taken to a professional artistic level; it isn't just big sculptures of funny animals, they really make symbolic and beautiful representations from a medium that is so temporary, even in the depths of winter. Nature does play its tricks, though; poor Team Ontario's sculpture collapsed yesterday afternoon due to the freak warm weather! All those hours of work and designing gone, but luckily it came after the judges had cast their vote. We hear in half an hour who won their 'glory' prize; the streets of Breck are absolutely jam-packed for the event, with people seizing the chance to drive up to mountain town. 

The artists have 65 hours to carve the snow, with no use of any motor-generated tools, in teams of four. They can work through the night, and have to model their anticipated sculpture before-hand to the judges.

A fast-paced world

This week so far has shown me the beauty in being able to live your
life while taking your time, and how much we are persuaded to do
otherwise.

Before leaving for Chicago, I had a great day of skiing, and a calm
night in after dinner. During my stay here, there have been many a
calm night, and never do I feel like this is a waste, as it is
allowing me to be so well-rested to truly appreciate every motion of
the next day. Though I have been banished to the sofa bed for Sergio's
stay in Breckenridge, it is still great to currently be able to get to
bed at ten, to wake up and see the new day start afresh. Any of you
who vaguely followed my sleeping patterns in Montreal know that this
is not my usual rhythm; unpredictable bed times, late late nights
followed by early mornings, naps, Henry-time, sleeping is not usually
the top of my priority list.

There is something to be said for hurrying to fit the most into one
day. Carpe diem, seize the moment, live it up. We all follow this
regime, studying as much as we can, striving to reach our maximum
potential, pushing everything aside to meet the finish line. But what
about stopping to smell the roses? What is any accomplishment if there
is no time to reflect on it? Is a grade worth anything if learning the
material was unappreciated? Up in mountain town, people aren't focused
on the finish line, and shifted their attention to savoring each
moment getting there. The speed limits are low, so you have a chance
to take in the breathtaking surroundings when running to the
supermarket; shops are open late even though business is slow, giving
you all the time in the world to stroll to your destination on Main
Street; the next big city is a two-hour drive away, giving you no easy
escape to the real world and forcing you to get used to the slower
pace of life.

Cut to Monday, game day for an interview in Chicago. I had to wake up
at 5 AM, and woke up with a very familiar knot in my stomach, a knot
that was omnipresent until the past month. A knot that screams out,
'You're late, push, run, do better, impress, jump, work harder, push
harder, flail if need be, keep pushing!' all day long. Take van to
airport, rushing down the mountain to get to busy life as the sun
comes up. I feel silly for not having put on my business suit to be in
this mode, I feel like I will not look normal functioning at this pace
in every day clothes. On flight, which zips me across 1,000 miles of
beautiful scenery that I do not get to appreciate: the trip is not of
importance, the destination is. Not for the sake of the destination
itself, but of what I can rush through at that destination. Take a cab
through Chicago, a city I have never visited, to get to Mettawa's
Hilton. The next two days are a blur of friendly faces and kind people
and excitement and racing hearts and no sleep because of racing hearts
and bonds formed and speedy goodbyes. Back at the airport with time to
spare (the absolute enemy of the working world: inefficiency!), people
floated by, with those with business suits substituting for track
suits as they ran to their gate. I got on the plane and absolutely
collapsed with exhaustion; these two extreme opposites of life take a
lot out of me in keeping them balanced. I change back into mountain
clothes at the airport as the shirts are starting to stifle, and I
catch an earlier van to run up to the hills. I don't feel any sense of
relaxation until I am back in the comfort of my own home (well, one of
them).

And yesterday, I went skiing as if it never happened.

I will be volunteering with the local snow sculpture competition over
the following few days; what you can create out of a hammer, a chisel
and a block of ice! check it http://www.townofbreckenridge.com/index.aspx?page=496

happy obamania

bless y'all!

Breckenridge, CO, USA

the latest

it's only been a week and a bit, and already i feel like this trip has taught me. which is good, i did go on this adventure with learning as the goal, but i set out without really knowing what kind of learning was going to happen. was i going to learn about the places i visited? were people going to learn about me? was i going to learn how to live out of a backpack? where, when would i feel this learning start?

inevitably, learning means expanding, and expansion means change. no matter what my next step had been after graduation, it would have been a big one. but when you set out to completely blow yourself out of the water with new experiences, you are inviting yourself to change. and that in itself is a tad discomforting; who will i be at the end of this all? will i be the same person that me and mine know and care for? how will my view on life change? i'm not heading to the richest places known to man, and i've been warned time and time again that it won't be immediately uplifting. and the one way to swallow that is to accept that you cannot know the world in just seeing the good, and if i am to have a firm trust in man, then i must see both sides of the story. i have set out on all my crazy steps in life as of yet to push myself forward, no matter how steep the step ahead of me was, and each step has brought me closer to knowing the nature of people, and not all of those steps have been pleasant. at the end of the day, that is what is important, growing and learning and accepting and understanding and reflecting. and if that changes the person that i am into something radically different, then yes, i changed, but i changed for the better, for the informed, for the wiser. 

being on my own here has allowed for a lot of quiet time, quiet time that i didn't even know was missing before it set in. the past couple of months (who am i kidding, the past few years!) have been a rat race, and now at the finish, i am able to finally take a look back at how far i have come, and how much farther there is left to run. for now, though, no running. just strolling, floating through life instead of determining its path. at least for a little bit. 

the scenery here is... breathtaking. aside from the lack of oxygen. mountain living is not for everyone, but i know that it could be for me. being a short-term ski bum is wonderful! the chilled pace of life, the absolute lack of seriousness, the closeness to nature make for a different mind frame. no finance majors here! skiing down the mountain for days at a time, hiking into the backcountry, it allows for so much silent activity, letting my inner self a chance to be heard after all this rushing, partying, talking, studying, running. it's like i'm making friends with myself all over again. up in the high country, you look up, and you don't need to peek through buildings to catch a glimpse of the sun; here, the sky engulfs everything, everyone under it. oh my goodness, the colorado sky is so open you have no option but to reciprocate! the air is so clean, the water so fresh from the mountain that your body just thanks you automatically. my skin, hair, nails are all beaming from this dose of mountain life. no makeup, no tight clothing, no discomfort besides for the slight tightness of a ski boot (and that is remedied by the outdoor hot tub session under the snow at the end of the ski day). 

the people are on a different planet, one where long term careers do not exist, one where you live ski season by surf season, one where you move according to where they will let your canine friend live with you. i met a bunch of kids from st. louis last week and spent a good four days getting to know them, getting a little more familiar with my local roots that i am so used to discarding. good people. it's always fascinated me that no matter how conventional a person may seem, there is always a story to them. absolutely everybody has quirks, has history, has something that would be striking if it were their opening line to a stranger, giving us all reason to try and get past the first layer of anyone we encounter. never, ever judge a book neither by its cover, nor by its first handful of chapters, because somewhere in there, sometimes much deeper than others, there is a twist.

tomorrow, my solo time comes to an end for now, with sergio arriving for ten days. monday, i fly out to chicago for the big interview, to return (impressively enough) tuesday evening. it is now looking like jo will join me for the first ten days in south america, meeting me in buenos aires for a girly adventure (we'll see how girly i'm capable of getting- who knows, i may even wash my hair). 

laundry calls.

checking

london

reflection

it's a funny thing to be on your own. it is such a preconceived notion, such an expected reaction for one to feel lonely if on their own, that it almost becomes instinctual to fall into. it is still socially unacceptable to sit alone at a table, and to self-occupy. it is seen as if the person has no one to keep them company, has no other option but to suffer their own company. how can the individual, unequipped with any technological entertainment device, be satisfied? how can that be better than the banter that is had over the phone, the worthless conversation that can be had in text? the instruments we invent that birth a new application every five seconds have convinced us that what is old and simple can never be enough. what was sold but a year ago is no longer available for purchase, as a year gives rise to so many new functions in a single device that a model is considered worthless without the umpteenth widget that has been come up with. 

 human beings are having this technological trend translated to their behavioral interaction; we must always be changing, we must have new interests every x amount of time, we must be 'progressing', advancing, evolving. it is as if the act of morphing one's self is what is expected to provide enhancement. motion forward with no direction. keeping the wheels turning while off the ground. what is resulting is an utter lack of satisfaction; for how can anyone savor the moment if they are not allowed to stop and reflect on it? if it is expected for people to keep moving, keep busy, keep moving forward without stopping to appreciate the difference between being stationary and moving? the actions become the only thing present, while the reasons for these actions go unnoticed, uncared for, unimportant. at which point, what is an action worth if it is a mere mechanical reflex, a reaction to the previous action taken? every action is a formulaic and predictable ingredient resulting from what was done and what is striving to be achieved, and nothing more. what is the difference then between a human and a machine? have we transformed ourselves into the machines to which we have become so attached? 

people can know themselves better through reflections with others, but the purest self-discovery can only be done on your own, uninfluenced by anyone's tainted and inevitably biased opinions. even though it is true that to self-evaluate will only give one analysis on a makeup as complex as the personality, this analysis is what counts, as it is what you think of you. it is neither easy nor comfortable to delve into your self, to attempt to see your inside from the outside, but essentially is the only way truly progress, in whichever sense you take the word 'progress' to mean, as that progress is solely relevant to you. if somebody else does not have the same definition of progress, then that is for them to apply to their own character. our personality has been created by all the events in our lives that were unavoidable, granted, but we also play a large part in the moulding of our persona. it is we who choose, and the degree to which we choose in itself describes a lot about ourselves. 

 but if we keep drowning ourselves in gadgets and gizmos, and spend all of our time researching their purchase, purchasing, and following up on these gadgets, if we keep performing acts as mindlessly and emptily as 1,2,3, then we will not evolve in the true meaning of evolution. we will go forward without evolving, the wheels will keep turning with no advancement. which is why it is imperative to learn to appreciate one's own company; because unless you take the time to get to know yourself, then you can never really have anyone else know you thoroughly, as they will be knowing someone half-discovered, a person half blacked out. we can pretend all we want that these machines are bringing us closer together, but the truth is that until we can put these electronics aside for long enough to let us think about ourselves, then we will only be increasing the barriers between one another, and even more scarily, between getting to understand the real us.

Holiday Season

Well, it certainly was busy. After one mad month of exams, moving and many goodbyes to the wonderful people of Montreal, the 19th of December 2008 marked the end of my Canadian era. The separation sentiments were facilitated by the -30 degree weather. God bless those who are there for the coming winter. 

 I arrived in London on the 20th in the morning, to be greeted at Heathrow by Mr. Anderson himself, who kindly enough helped me stand upright under the luggage I was hauling. We stayed in London from that Saturday to the Tuesday, and it was simply incredible; from comedy acts, to ice-skating under the stars at the Natural History Museum, to champagne-filled evenings, to the numerous delicious restaurants, the days flew by on very little sleep. 

 On Christmas Eve day, I got my Eurostar to Brussels, of course seated in the car with a person who collapsed in the train and needed urgent medical attention; I predictably slept through the event, so I cannot give any further details. After spending a lovely afternoon with Paolucci Jr., I went to pick up Mr. Anderson, who arrived with a sack-full of gifts for the family (business got slow, so he went shopping instead). So Mr. Anderson met the Paoluccis,  and made quite the impression. Over the next couple of days, we ate to our heart's content (I think it was more like to over-content, as in too much content ingested), wandered the streets of Ixelles, Brussels and Antwerp, and basked in the holiday relaxation. Christmas scored me a backpack (Jo's response: 'So that's one bag for shoes, what will you take all the rest of your belongings in?'), and plenty of goodies, as well as one heap of a meal. 

 Back in London, life resumed to the busy social schedule. Mr. Anderson's friends are delightful, and a crazy night out at Modiva proved that they know how to party it up right as well. Very important qualifications. One highlight was a trip out to Richmond Park, where we rented bicycles and rode around to photograph the deer that reside in the park and that are so domesticated that they virtually pose for the photos. A final night at Ronnie Scott's, the infamous jazz joint, was the cherry on the cake to a friggin' great sejour in London under the Anderson supervision. 

 Next stop: Monaco. Spiced up with the fact that upon all car rentals being unavailable, Alex needed to learn to drive manual. On my father's car. On the wrong side of the road. In the rain. With French drivers. On French mountain roads. All considering, he performed incredibly, only stalling a couple of handful of times, and only once on the motorway (such a star!). The first night, we headed to Ventimiglia and then San Remo for some killer pizza. On our way back, however, we encountered the worst fog on the highway that I have ever seen down there, leaving us with absolutely zero visibility on highways that are hundreds of feet off the ground. Provided much reason to toast to a lot of champagne by the time we got home. On New Year's Day, the sun shone through, and a quick trip down to the beach turned into hours at the beach cafe, lounging and watching the paragliders land their colorful chutes against that perfect blue Cote d'Azue sky. Beautiful. A quick trip to Monaco allowed Andersano to drive the F1 track, which gave a good surge to his testosterone levels. The following day, our last, was spent pretty much in the car, driving up, up, up to the ski resort of Limone, where we snacked and walked the alleys of the tiny town. 

 The following morning, due to the extra early wake up call, I managed to realize as I was checking in at the very last minute that I had forgotten my passports at the house. Brava. Sergio was immensely kind enough to fly down the next day to fetch them. Oops.

 The last couple of days in Brussels were filled with running around, finishing up details, packing, and cleaning up the family fridges. After the usual long trip to Breckenridge, which includes two flights and a long, long van ride into the mountain range, here I am. I am currently unemployed, but will find something eventually, be it teaching French or Italian, or lift operating. It is absolutely dumping snow today, and since I did find a pair of skis for $125 today, I may make an investment... We will see! For now, all I know is that I have enough cash to get by for a while, but need a job to be saving some greenbacks for S.Am. 

 Signing off for now,

 Juj