Ashley Metz
Sup. Hi. How are you? I'm a little bit hungry, but we don't have to talk about that right now. Let's still talk about me, though. This is my page after all. Hi again. My name is Ashley. I recently joined the super Amen team as Marketing Manager. Past:
- Co-founder and a few other things at Reach the World Chicago
- Did time at a tech startup in the healthcare sector
- Wrote reports on technology-enabled businesses for the UNDP
- Wrote reports on venture philanthropy strategies (using business practices for social/environmental good) for EVPA
- Imaginary beard stroking at Nokia (new services strategy & prototyping team)
- Got schooled in: English Literature, Creative Writing, Studio Art, MBA
- Eventually planning to make sense of this with a performance art piece re-interpreting The Tempest with live Excel modeling of the effects of colonialism on technology set to a pre-recorded soundtrack of viola noises (the waveform of which evokes the arc of a story mirrored with the technology adoption curve - which isn't even possible unless you force the story arc into a normal distribution).
Free time: Cycling & running (Always looking for road buddies!), Fiction writing, Music (blog below), Scrappy poorly defined cool stuff (Please contact me if you know 3D product design)
Updates
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@jensnikolaus Exactly
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Amazing! http://t.co/Bzshwa2b
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Gorlitz, whaddup http://t.co/xO3skKq5
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Can someone who speaks English please show up to wherever it is that I am. I just tripped on someone's giant foam power ranger #
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I just tripped on what I'm sure is the most expensive foam power ranger ever. Gasps throughout the space. http://t.co/1dbJBglS
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Double with cinnamon. Ok, let's get some shit done. http://t.co/5crelFdd
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File under "Post from Personal Account" The Best because it makes the lines at Disney World shorter https://t.co/5lJBB5bA #getamen
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Amen is the shit!: http://t.co/QUN4NRtt
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A Flip-top Mitten is the Best For Flipping Off Antsy Drivers While Cycling Ever https://t.co/mieqe6iS #getamen
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Gettin PUMPED http://t.co/CedfqZMe
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NUMB3RS is the Best Detective Series Ever #getamen http://t.co/g7Dzy5vN
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Welcome to the Jungle - Guns N' Roses is the Best Song To Wake Up To Ever #getamen http://t.co/WhgJWeIu
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@thomcummings Cool, thanks!
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@edmacovaz tortoises/
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This is from the @themichelberger this summer & I can't remember the band's name. Any ideas? via #soundcloud http://t.co/pFM9wI6M
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Hungarian Salami is the Best Salami FORGET THE ITALIAN ONES Ever https://t.co/UquiihgT #getamen
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Is it just me, or did captchas get crazy hard recently? Oh god, I've turned into a robot! NOOOOOO
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Chewbacca is the Best Wingman Ever https://t.co/QYiF5j99 #getamen
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Pinterest is the first service for which I get follower notifications from old friends. So much potential in non-tech focused female mkt!
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OOOOOOOH RT @FastCompany: Sweden Plans A New Superhighway For Cyclists http://t.co/ItWz3Kvr via @FastCoExist
Profile
Summary
My professional experience has included marketing, program management, research consulting and entrepreneurship in several areas: geography & technology education (RTW), healthcare education tech (ExtendMed), a professional association (EVPA) and technology-based rural businesses (Tata Institute, UNDP).
Experience
- Oct 2011 - PresentMarketing Manager / Amen Internet GmbH
- Jun 2011 - Oct 2011Senior Consultant / Nokia- Worked with team to analyze current portfolio and create evaluation framework
- Scoped and developed internal processes, coordinating across User Research, UX, Product Marketing and application product teams
- Led strategic themes project synthesizing user research, market and tech trends to align applications strategy for Location & Commerce - Mar 2011 - Jun 2011Senior Consultant (Freelance) / Nokia- Concept work on 'Next Billion' services
- Worked with design team on concepting future maps projects - Apr 2010 - Feb 2011Research Consultant / European Venture Philanthropy AssociationEVPA is a network of venture philanthropy, private equity and venture capital firms, foundations, individuals and consultancies dedicated to using business principles for social change.
- Wrote publications on impact finance strategies for foundations and PE/VC. Publications available for download: http://evpa.eu.com/knowledge-centre/targets-of-vp/evpa-publications/ - Nov 2010 - Dec 2010Freelance Consultant / Uberblic Labs• Project-based consulting, including conceptual & early-stage strategy development
- 2008 - 2010MBA Student / IESE Business School
- Jun 2009 - Aug 2009Consultant / Tata Institute of Social Sciences• Conducted primary market research with potential stakeholders for business plan in urban market; created plan including market analysis and financial forecasts, while advising on risks and mitigation strategies
• Researched and co-wrote case studies on technology businesses in the rural market for the UNDP GIM Project, interviewing multiple stakeholders across India to deliver a comprehensive picture of social, economic and environmental value created - Apr 2005 - Jun 2008Co-Founder, Field Production Manager and Chicago Program Director / Reach the WorldCo-founded Tradewinds, which became Reach The World Chicago in June 2005.
Reach the World (www.reachtheworld.org) is a technology and geography education program. We provide a range of online and in-classroom services to create an interactive, exciting real-life learning environment. The program currently operates in New York City, Odessa, Texas and Chicago. - Jun 2005 - Oct 2006Program Management and Internet Marketing / ExtendMedExtendMed is a tech startup in the healthcare industry that produces and markets bespoke web programs, primarily for international pharmaceutical companies and medical device manufacturers.
- Collaborated with clients and senior management throughout the production cycle, producing and editing program content, integrating with the design and programming teams, analyzing marketing results - Jun 2004 - Dec 2004Account Intern, Digital Intern / Barkley
- 2003 - 2003Intern / Hewson Group
Education
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2008 - 2010IESE Business School - University of NavarraMBA in Marketing, strategy, emerging markets, innovation
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2001 - 2005Northwestern UniversityBA in English Major in Creative Fiction
Additional Information
Posts
Genesis by Grimes
New track from Grimes, preceding her third album Visions, is as ethereal, sensual and chic as ever. Maybe moreso.
shared from exfm
The new single from The Mary Onettes is a characteristically poppy affair but the Cure-ism has been dialed-up a notch. This is taken from the EP “Love Forever” out on February 28 on Labrador. Sounds like it could be a sappy affair but I kinda like it…
Order the 12” vinyl from their store (but be quick since there’s only 1000 copies)

I discovered Escort through a club remix of the first track on this album, Caméleon Chameleon, which first appeared on an NPR podcast and then in my SoundCloud feed. Now I’m listening to the full album, thanks to the power of the internet. These guys are funky as hell, rediscovering the old disco roots of Brooklyn via the medium of gloriously upbeat tracks mixed with a sly sense of modernism. Officially tipping Escort as a live band for 2012…
Dear readers…. you may have noticed something of a winter hibernation here on HotSpotMusic. 2012 has brought about many changes and how we run HotSpotMusic will be one of them. It has always been my intention to write about music in the way that I consume it - full albums - and to find music to share with others in a simple, unpretentious way. And so it must continue.
Since I neither have the time nor energy to maintain the both the quality and quantity of output that this blog and you deserve I am forced to choose…. Therefore, from this week HotSpotMusic will continue in one of two ways:
1. If you love the current format (simple album reviews, on time and on the money) then come write for us! Demands are simple: love music, love writing and have time for both.
2. HotSpotMusic will change - I will continue to post but will increase the scope - not just album reviews but videos, playlists, single tracks, remixes and more. From all over the place too, SoundCloud, exfm, 8tracks, Spotify, Rdio and more. Reviews will be shorter but more plentiful. It won’t be the HotSpotMusic we’ve come to know, but it will still exist and maybe there will be more new music as a result.
Got an opinion on how to keep things afloat? Let me know! Otherwise, get ready for some unfiltered, unadulterated, unbelievable tunes coming your way soon.
It’s a whole new week which means we have a whole new batch of Tastemakers for your listening pleasure. Press play on this tasty ear candy!
Honoured to be included on the exfm tastemakers list.

What better way to kick off the new year than a whole month’s worth of songs by this humble blogger’s favourite English troubadour, Mr Darren of Hayman. This time last year, he was just setting out on a valiant quest: to write, create and record a new track each and every day during January, which you can still review over on the blog. Accompanied by the talents of friends and artists alike, January Songs is a 31 gun salute to endeavour and to new years resolutions. He’ll even be performing them all in a series of gigs this month so if you’re lucky enough to be in England, be sure to see it.

Now seems to be the appropriate time to be sharing this record, given its title. The echo of the summer is heard louder than the echo of Sin Fang’s last album, Clangour, a delightfully scatty collection of ideas. This one is more focused, more of an album and more folky.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date: 21 March 2011

Another one where serious questions have to be asked about this writer’s taste and dedication as to why it wasn’t posted 6 months ago. Burst Apart is a sonically stretching follow-up to the cathartic Hospice (another of 2009’s sleeper hits) that elevates the themes to something less likely to make you bawl but soar instead. The epic opener I Don’t Want Love sets the album off at the right pace as a heartfelt and yet self-undermining protest and the rest of the album continues just as brightly. Great stuff.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date: 10 May 2011

The Rip Tide is an excellent album that, much like the rest of Zach Condon’s discography is something of a slow burn (whilst being characteristically recognisable). Not sure why it took so long to get round to it here but with tracks like East Harlem and the title track, it’s strong enough to comfortably slot into the end of year lists.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date: 30 August 2011

I Want That You Are Always Happy is the full debut album of Australian septet, The Middle East. It follows their sumptuous EP (cleverly titled The Recordings of the Middle East) from last year and follows that up with more downbeat folk that doesn’t sound dissimilar from what the blender would sound like if you threw a Fleet Foxes CD in there with a Low Anthem record and a Jet minidisc. Just kidding about the Jet (ah, the fate of poor Australian bands) so maybe replace that with some barley. Yes, that’d go quite nicely. Much like this album. Won’t hit the end of year top 25 but it’s a pleasant enough record.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date:

Landing right at the beginning of this year, HotSpotMusic missed out on Anna Calvi. Despite having the unfortunate albatross of one of the BBC’s Sound of 2011 acts hanging round her neck (although this was perhaps offset by Brian Eno referring to her as the best thing since Patti Smith), her tightly composed debut is a grand work. There are definite elements of PJ Harvey but it is the dark, dense power of this album that makes songs like Desire and The Devil stand out amongst other contemporary female performers such as Florence & The Machine or EMA. This has only spun a few times but it may well get a few more… and if that’s not enough, she’s covered Wolf Like Me too.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date: 17 Januaruy 2011

Trust Bjork to release her latest album not as a traditional record but as an ever unfolding series within an iPad app. Always at the forefront of music and innovation, Bjork’s album was beautiful and somewhat revolutionary. The music in it was less pioneering than the format perhaps, but that’s only because we set such high expectations on her. Sumptuously constructed and genre hopping, Biophilia is an experiment in what sound represents in the third millennia and it delivers strongly.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date: 11 October 2011

Six years after Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!’s definitive, eponymous debut and four years after the disappointing, loud and nonsensical followup, Some Loud Thunder, came Hysterical. A marvellous collection of quirky indie pop that returns to the lighter side of CYHSY! whilst bringing a more well-rounded maturity to the track list.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date:

Much has been said of Real Estate’s ability to effectively simulate the halcyon days of the past. But in today’s nostalgia-addled, originality whirlpool that is no longer the key skill - what makes Days really work is the consistently enjoyable songwriting. Clearly a homage to early REM jangle as much as it is to the summer houses of their youth (and the guitar effects pedals that take them back to both those time periods), the ten tracks here are the equal elixir for memory and ignorance. A great follow-up to 2009’s self-titled debut from the New Jersey based trio.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date: 18 Oct 2011
Soaring above the rest of its indie brethren, the bold, majestic eagle doesn’t have time to think about such trivial things as itself or the complexities of being alone. It must fly to stay alive and it must kill to stay strong. And that is why, the eagle is the not-so-indie-animal.
Click here: Not-so-indie Animal: The Eagle

A universally epic sound, gradually swelling songs in a rare-double length LP and the controversial use of a saxophone marked out M83’s return to the public sphere. Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming could have been the album title for about 40% of all indie releases since the summer of 2010 but at least Anthony Gonzales’s effort tries to capture the urgency in the beginning of that statement whilst letting the latter drift as your imagination wanders the way of the second part of the album (i.e. into the distance).
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date: 18 October 2011
When you have such a classic, long-awaited album such as Smile released why would you even need any more music that month? Well, despite trying otherwise, a few more notable releases went up on HotSpotMusic including the bewitching debut effort from Still Corners, Atlas Sound’s Parallax and the sunniest record ever to be released in November, Summer Camp’s Welcome To Condale.
Click here: HotSpotMusic. - November 2011

Wild Beasts are one of those bands who have very slowly progressed into being silently quite brilliant with each album. The British band’s sound has evolved from simple pop songs to rather complex and thoughtful compositions still backed up by the marvellous (and impressively replicable in a live setting) Jeff Buckley-style warble of lead singer Hayden Thorpe, only now with more nuance and subtlety in its delivery.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date: 10 May 2011

Oh Panda Bear, how were you ever supposed to live up to expectations on Tomboy? The critical success of Person PItch weighed heavily and the seemingly-forever postponed recordings (due in part to the success of Merriweather Post Pavilion and Animal Collective’s touring) that led to the release of this album 4 years later didn’t help. Tomboy is certainly not a bad record, indeed there are quite engaging tracks in there, but really not enough to keep you returning and certainly nothing nearly as inventive as he’s delivered before.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date: 11 Apr 2011

The inimitable Laura Marling’s third album was once again a marked progression from her previous work and surely solidifies her position not only as one of England’s brightest young talents in indie/folk but one her best songwriters too.
Part of the 2011 winter clearout - albums not reviewed when they came out but still worth sharing before the end of year lists hit.
Original release date: 12 Sep 2011
Audio
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New Andrew Bird track is a little less fragile, at least on the inside out, than before, with a driving, rousing chorus. Of course it leads to a little bit of whistling in the coda but what else are you expecting. Limited edition vinyls available over on http://www.andrewbird.net/76532 plays
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Genesis by Grimes New track from Grimes, preceding her third album Visions, is as ethereal, sensual and chic as ever. Maybe moreso. shared from exfm109 plays
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The new single from The Mary Onettes is a characteristically poppy affair but the Cure-ism has been dialed-up a notch. This is taken from the EP “Love Forever” out on February 28 on Labrador. Sounds like it could be a sappy affair but I kinda like it… Order the 12” vinyl from their store (but be quick since there’s only 1000 copies)2214 plays
Posts
It’s a known affair, but today I can’t help but comment on the beauty and inspiration I find in the convoluted world of social media and everything digital. A few days ago, I posted this:
That was after I heard the song Maps on David’s blog, which referenced the Ann Arbor SoundCloud local post (written by Jami aka Seams). Chris sent me a thank-you tweet and suddenly I felt a rush of understanding why creators and consumers alike feel a deep love for companies like SoundCloud.
Perhaps it’s the constantly fluctuating nature of my own attention to any given influence - friends, professional or personal interests, the companies that I love and listen to (sometimes literally) that makes this seem at once direct, yet distant. Though we are constantly in reach of all the music, media, art, literature, (etc., etc.,) that could be meaningful to us, it continues to amaze me when a direct connection is made between any combination of creator, influencer or consumer. The digital world is ever-more resembling, mapping even, the world we live in - the animate and dirty yet mathematical organic world.
This morning, I came across this and felt even more fuzzy because Amen was involved:
I had been playing the Bass Farmers’ Avicci - Levels remix in the office on Friday, was really digging it and Amen’d it, which sent to Twitter. Bass Farmers found it and one of the guys re-posted it to Facebook. I am excited that something on Amen has gone out into the world and affected someone - and hopefully listeners/consumers as well.
Amen is about the best and worst of everything. When I listened to that song, I wanted to say something about it, so I did, on Amen. Though our service is not currently directly connected to SoundCloud, I made the comment for two reasons: because it was exactly the sort of listening experience that makes me want to say, “This is the best ever! Amen!” and also because I thought maybe someone would be curious and find the song and Bass Farmers could get some extra exposure. When I saw Matthew’s Facebook post this morning, it was another click for me - that Amen is beginning to make strands in the giant digital web - between consumers, creators, influencers, content and experiences.
There are already many, many formats and iterations of social media services for personal expression and many others for curation, transmission and consumption - of course, I hope you’ll choose Amen (which is the best). However, I believe that as the Internet and its companies grow and evolve, service usage will expand and contract on an individual basis. It doesn’t matter that Matthew from Bass Farmers found my comment about his song via Google nor that he may or may not care about Amen. The point is that I had an outlet to say what I wanted to say (Amen), I have a group of friends and listeners on Amen who may have discovered something new because of my comment, and most interestingly to me at the moment, that Amen was a format - an entry point - and my comment flew into the messy, wonderful digital sphere and landed somewhere.
I guess it didn’t hurt that the refrain is, “Sometimes I get a good feeling.”
This reminds me of the time I went phone shopping with an elf and we both bought phones. I guess it was a little different because his hair and my dress weren’t color-coordinated.
Amen, Josh. Ship it good.
A well put piece by our CEO Felix on the state of affairs in the Berlin tech community, particularly with regards to some “journalists”. Time to put all the negativity behind us and move along. Ship it!
Over the past few months Amen has been lucky to receive a lot of favorable, critical and honest German press coverage. We are very grateful to the amazing people at Spiegel, Welt, Zeit and the diligent bloggers at Techcrunch, netzwertig, deutsche startups, TechBerlin and
Penny the elusive corg-shark! Ironically, she isn’t ferocious and hates water very much.
Perfect for a baby, too!
EXCITING NEWS! The object page is almost here. Many of you have asked for this feature and we have longed, nay craved to build it. Here’s a super-special preview for you.
Let’s say you want a cappuccino - just like the sort of thing you could buy at THE BEST coffee store in Berlin. But how will you find this store? Look no further than its Amen page. Pretty nifty, eh? We are excited… and hard at work building it. Get excited and keep the great feedback coming!
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Boldly named after Margaret Atwood’s post-apocalyptic romance, the nine-member band plays a memorable folk/acoustic/experimental/indie rock/pop, as it were. The songs are superbly surprising combinations; soft tension, halting, pivoting music released in spurts of movement. The cello and violin play unique characters rather than push themselves into too traditional of roles, completing the picture with successive layers of vocals, beats and color.
Recently I went to the Apple website and saw this. I felt like measles had been eradicated.
Leafsnap: An Electronic Field Guide
Leafsnap is the first in a series of electronic field guides being developed by researchers from Columbia University, the University of Maryland, and the Smithsonian Institution. This free mobile app uses visual recognition software to help identify tree species from photographs of their leaves.
Leafsnap contains beautiful high-resolution images of leaves, flowers, fruit, petiole, seeds, and bark. Leafsnap currently includes the trees of New York City and Washington, D.C., and will soon grow to include the trees of the entire continental United States.
This website shows the tree species included in Leafsnap, the collections of its users, and the team of research volunteers working to produce it.
OMG @thomcummings and I were talking about this (as a joke), but then kept finding instances where it would be useful. FINALLY, a reality
42 seconds in, incredible. I wish I could talk about face-fracturing burgers with that face on. ..or do I.
Audio
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soundcloud: LOL Yoda intergalactic blues! by wahlforss604 plays
Favorites
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Noisia - Could This Beby NOISIA
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Junior Boys - You'll Improve Me (Caribou Remix)by DominoR...
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The Hidden World of Girls with Tina Fey-Hour 1by The Kit...
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DARKSIDE - A1by Clown &...
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Avicii - Levels (FTampa Remix) Free Downloadby ftampa
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Truncate + Raiz - Rhythmby truncat...
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Afrojack & Steve Aoki ft Miss Palmer - No Beef (Mats Gulbrandsen Remix)by Mats Gu...
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Cheeky D - LUBE (Inside Pico RMX) Clip [Soon On Beatport By GIGABEAT.us]by Inside ...
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Vokal - Wrong Vinyl (Original)by Tinush
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Brais the Nice - Groovesonideby Brais T...
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Gabriel Slick - Ask Him EP [SLK001] - OUT NOWby SLiCK R...
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Fugees - Ready Or Not (Robert Noise & Ploughman Remix) Rework 2011by Robert ...
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Victoria Mussi + Oopart - Hope (Original Mix)by Victori...
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Avicii - Levels (Bass Farmers Remix) Free DL @ www.facebook.com/bassfarmersonlineby Bass Fa...
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Adele - Rolling In The Deep (XY-Me Remix) **Free Download **by XY-Me
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Adele - Someone Like You (Merk & Kremont Remix)[Download on my FB page]by MerkOff...
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Adele - Someone Like You (R'Bros Intro Remix) DOWNLOAD --> http://hulkshare.com/y8ntv3g2col4by R'Bros
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How Come You Never Go Thereby Feist
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Mapsby mistern...
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Last Night I Heard Everything in Slow Motionby Oliver ...
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Bomberby NiT Gri...
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Amen - 2011-may CLIP3by Amen
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Adele - Rolling in The Deep (Hannes Fischer Remix)by Hannes ...
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White Nightsby OhLand
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Lykke Li "I Follow Rivers" (The Magician Remix)by TheMagi...
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Snowy lullabyby GrumB
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Blink of an eyeby alphabe...
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first snowby emancip...
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01 The Angerby Carl No...
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Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Maps (Cosmo Black Remix)by Cosmo B...
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Metric - Collect Call (Cosmonaut Grechko version)by Cosmona...
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Marc Romboy vs Stephan Bodzin "Triton" (Gaiser Remix, Web-Edit)by stephan...
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TableDrumsby otmivyo...
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You Say Party | There is XXXX (Beckwith and Tombstone Remix)by StageFr...
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Make It Wit Chuby Queens ...
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Darwin Deez - Constellations (SBTRKT Remix)by LuckyNu...
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When I Grow Upby First A...
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Friendly Fires - On Board (Joakim Remix)by future ...
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Beach House - White Moon (Itunes Session)by subpop
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Philip Selway - Beyond Reasonby Bella U...
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Get Outta My Wayby kyliemi...
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Phosphorescent - The Mermaid Paradeby creates...
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Perfectionby OhLand
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Owen Pallett: Midnight Directives (Max Tundra Remix)by Max Tun...
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Tech house mix july 2010by lokesh ...
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Don't Turn the Lights Onby Chromeo
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Lunaby Fanfarl...
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Let's Get Lostby Bat for...
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Robyn - Dancing On My Own (Fred Falke Remix)by Fred Fa...
Recent tracks
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St. Peter's Cathedral by Death Cab for Cutie8 weeks ago
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This Phantom Life by The Leisure Society8 weeks ago
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Home Is A Fire by Death Cab for Cutie8 weeks ago
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We Almost Had a Baby by Emmy the Great8 weeks ago
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Turn It Off by Phantogram8 weeks ago
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As Far As I Can See by Phantogram8 weeks ago
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You Are The Ocean And I'm Good At Drowning by Phantogram8 weeks ago
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All Dried Up by Phantogram8 weeks ago
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Let Me Go by Phantogram8 weeks ago
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Running From the Cops by Phantogram8 weeks ago
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Reach the World
Posts
New adventures beckon and this blog shall remain as is. My website can be found here.
It's been some time. Probably no one reads this now that we've caught up in person. Perfect. I'd like to say some things to the wide open nothing, the potentially grand non-audience of the Internet. (If the ocean is an empty auditorium, what a frame to this story- large spaces of blank. Natural and man-made! Somebody write a high-school English essay!
If I had more time, I'd describe the 3-week passage or maybe talk a little bit about the Marquesas. That's okay. Fast forward. Air Tahiti. LAX. Chicago.
School visits were great. I felt a lot of pride in what we have done, satisfaction in the students' responses and excitement for my own upcoming year with the program in Chicago. The week after, I started part-time at my old job with a new excitement for my work there as well. The truth is, it was very easy to transition into normal life. We re-activated cell phone service and were swiftly reunited with unsalted clothes, pizza, apples and ice cream.
Somewhere in the next days, Ryan, Stuck, Jake and I went for a swim in the then 56-degree Lake Michigan. Stuck and Jake had been making a habit of this lately. The task involved sipping a plastic cup of orange juice and vodka (with ice!) on a tender barefoot trek to the beach, a solemn disrobing (to bathing suits) and the removal of prescription eye wear, then a stunning, somewhat introspective paddle to a nearby buoy.
My feet touched sand in little hops as I struggled with the pressing chill and lack of salty buoyancy. My arms and legs were inefficient flippers; I was paddling a canoe with a fishing pole. The water sucked at my body, probably not the best ointment for remnants of the flu, it occurred to me, but it left a clean numbness I told myself was nourishing. A thought of pleasure began to settle into an icicle. I liked my blood shrinking from the surface of my skin, the sharp feeling around my eyes, the tightness. My thoughts were frozen to the inside of my skull. My skin was vividly numb.
Chicago. Tahiti. The puerile desire to suggest that a bartender accept French Polynesian francs for the Bud Light special. "You can see me now because I'm here," I wanted to say to people on the train platform that day, "but very very recently I was one of very few gringos for miles.
The swim, 'twas a facetious tussle with the idea of danger. I have no interest in dipping below, losing my hold on oxygen. I am far too in love with the ice and the shore's blooming streetlights. It's animating, this need to continually prove my devotion to breathing. I sputtered on involuntary sweet tastes of water and made my way to the buoy and back to the soft cold sand
Then I went bridesmaids dress shopping and nearly shot myself. All this time, I've been excited for girly things! And what have you boys done to me? I have no patience! Later that day, I attended the bachellorette party. We had a nice dinner, went to a wine bar (rented out for the occasion), (tasty new trendy sparkling Shiraz!), were given chocolate, headed to a street fair, obtained huge gaudy temporary tattoos, sang karaoke, looked at lingerie, the whole nine. It was really quite fun. Before this point in our time back to Chicago, I had felt completely, almost alarmingly normal. However, in the company of these older girls (who, whether in my mind or in reality, seemed to ask boat-related questions with an air of disbelief, a zoo-going curiosity at the stinky, wet, wind-blown life I had recently claimed to love) l could feel something start to fray in a corner of my mind.
What happened next: a discussion about counter tops, a disguised tear behind a tanned hand, a trip to the bathroom, another beer, a renewed face towards life, these things can and have just been condensed.
Sad to miss the variety of each day. Sad not to see the stars, steer the boat, feel the wind. Sad to have pressurized hot water. Sad to be close to a familiar vibrant culture. Sad to be able to run farther than 43 feet. Sad to be able to write without worrying about amps. Sad to see my family and friends and be able to communicate with anyone anywhere for simple, easy American currency ... Hmmm... Ahh yes, accept and embrace a dual citizenship in the foreign world and the immediate one. Fit in with the color pink as easily as the bed of a pickup truck. So many gosh darn adventures. It may not be easy to argue with the gray of a cubicle wall, but here's to trying and The Next Chapter, whatever form it may take.
Thumbs up for iguanas! AND The Next ChapterHave a good month! I bet you ten dollars yours will go faster than mine.
In the immortal words of Styx,
I’m sailing away. Set an open course for the virgin sea,
Because I’ve got to be free,
Free to face the life that it’s ahead of me,
On board, I’m the Production Manager, so climb aboard,
We’ll search for tomorrow on every shore,
and I’ll try, oh Lord, I’ll try, to carry on.
I look to the sea,
Reflections in the waves spark my memories,
Some happy, some sad,
I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had,
We lived happily forever, so the story goes,
but eventually we’ll have to return to the real world,
But we’ll try, best that we can, to carry on. (sweet guitarness)
A gathering of angels appeared above my head,
They sang to me this song of hope and this is what they said. They said:
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me, that’s
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Meeeeeee
I thought that they were angels,
Much to my surprise,
they climbed aboard their starship and headed for the skies.
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Come sail away, Come sail away, Come sail away with Me
Signing off,
A. M.
One more thing. It’s been emotional.
I’m not.
At first when we saw sea lions it was completely novel. “OH BOY! OH GOSH! Guys! Guys!! GUYS!!! There’s a SEA LION over there!” somebody would say. Thump, thump, thump. People ran topside. Cameras snapped right and left. People pushed each other into the ocean to get the best shot. But then we got to the Galapagos: Sea Lion Central. Sea Lion City. Sea Lion Station. Sea Lion Playground. The Frickin Sea Lion Line at the DMV.
Oh they’re cute as can be. They swim with you, blow bubbles, lounge around the beach, flop up and down to the water. They make creative belching noises. They are EVERYWHERE. I watched one walk all the way from the beach to the road, then settle down in this tree planter in the middle of a town square. I also watched as one attempted to board someone else’s sailboat. How cute, I had thought. How funny. How hilarious. That sea lion is trying to get on that sailboat. (That squirrel can water ski). Little did I know the gravity of the curious sea lion situation. Later that day, we all drew sober faces upon viewing our dinghy full of sloshing brown excrement. One might even guess there was a whole sea lion potty party while we were gone. The dang things hung out on the dinghy all day, relaxed, took naps, read books, then, whoops, gotta go… oh well, getting back in the ocean, where we normally poop, is just too damn hard. I’ll just let ‘er rip riiiight here in these nice peoples’ dinghy.
Well, I volunteered to help clean it under my breath, but it turns out no one heard me. George volunteered Whiz and headed the cleaning brigade at his own decree. Other than the curious incident of the shit in the daytime, there were a few other Galapevents.
On Day 2 I decided to go for a run while George followed up on some business early in the AM. Excited to explore sights in the dawning light, with a snazzy new playlist, I began to run away. Nanoseconds later, a series of loud grunts and yelps beckoned me back. Sea lions? Nay. Lately, things had been going wrong at regular intervals, the solutions for which usually required teamwork, responsibility and fun-sacrifice. I turned my head back in what was probably one of the slowest most begrudging looks of anger I could paint over with a plain expression. George was beckoning. I turned, surveyed the damage, sighed and told myself not to be a child. As it went, one of the garbage bags had leaked oil all over the dinghy. Charming. The non-profit educational company shows up in the Galapagos and creates an oil spill. George began to emit louder and louder noises. Children wept. Somewhere, an angel lost its wings. In all, this episode lasted about 7 minutes. In fact, I’m not even sure why I’m telling this story. Brian, Aaron, George and I took care of everything, and I eventually got to go on my run.
The run turned out to be one of the raddest, baddest experiences. I quickly passed out of the tiny town into the real Galapagosian existence. It was a lot like Ecuador – half-finished houses, dirt alleys, colorful laundry hanging in front of grey cement and pushy cab drivers. The cab drivers all seemed to think I needed a ride somewhere. Why else would I be running? One cab followed me slowly, its passenger yelling out the window. They followed me into a dead end. I was slightly alarmed and felt a bit trapped when he yelled, “Where you go, chica?” in a kind of taunting voice. Just then I saw a small path on the side of the road. “This way!” I muttered and sprinted off, disappearing into thick forest. I think I was right in the chorus of Ok Go’s “It’s a Disaster,” at that very moment. So I turned that up a few clicks and flew down a small valley, letting my feet have some extra airtime.
After a few more steps, I was facing one of the most beautiful ponds I had ever seen. There were mangroves on one side and these huge walls of bright green vegetation on the other. It looked like a little inlet of some kind, but I couldn’t see the ocean. The water was exceptionally clear and there were sea turtles paddling around. I had fallen through a choice rabbit hole.
Later that day, I saw a lot of iguanas. They were black and blended in very well with their lava perches. I felt like I had stepped into a Nature special, except that in T.V., you don’t get eaten alive by giant man-eating bird-flies. I got these big purple spots from their bites. They’re gone now. Don’t worry. Don’t worry; the giant welts are gone now. I’m absolutely fine. Giant fly bites = thing of the past.
We went on a few really awesome tours. One was of lava formations. Our guide gunned it over the break and we hurtled towards lava bridges at mach 9. He was probably the best outboard driver EVER. We maneuvered through the most intricate, shallow, sharp, rocky small spaces – sometimes sideways, sometimes backwards, sometimes there was a small reverse, followed by a graceful swing of the bow. It was dressage with twin 75-horse engines and he was quite the equestrian. He didn’t speak any English, but he also didn’t really speak Spanish. When we got to our destination, he waved us off with the back of his hand and lit up a cigarette.
We also took a trip to Kicker Rock (pictured here!!) and drove our dinghy around this little shark-infested area to take pictures. I also walked over LAVA with BARE FEET!! It was a couple of decades after the eruption, so I didn’t get burned.
The Galapagos really lived up to expectations. There really are these amazing animals just hanging out all over the place. I thought there would be a more regimented atmosphere. It was great to explore even if I can’t take home a tortoise.
Life on land is different from life at sea. For example, when you park your car you don´t have to think about tides. Here´s another example: on land, you can walk more than 43 feet in one direction. In sailing, everything is always moving and often in a direction which may hurt you. Also, you can throw aluminum cans right into the ocean because they rust so fast it´s better for the environment than a landfill.
Well I was sitting around on our last passage, mulling these incredible thoughts, when Aaron came down below after a satellite phone call with his parents. (I´m a terrible daughter and rarely shell out the $1.20/minute. Sorry guys, but now you´ll think twice about raising a daughter with a respect for money. Ooooh, zing.) (Aaron also has a respect for money, but that doesn´t help my case). ANYWAY, Aaron came down, and I looked up as he was replacing the gigantic receiver on the wall and he said to me, "My mother is cleaning the basement."
Ordinarily, this kind of news wouldn´t shock anybody. But this was an extraordinary situation. "NO WAY!" I thought. Right at this very second, while we are skimming about the waves in the Pacific, lacking ordinary creature comforts, a real live person is certifiably wandering about a basement in Virginia vacuuming, throwing things out, labeling things, (hopefully color-coding), and just generally existing in a completely different environment to ours. I guess maybe I was just hungry for a run or some fresh fruit or any number of things unavailable on the open water, but for some reason, I just loved the immediate novelty of land life at that particular moment.
ANYWAY (world´s longest intro), I do really like being at sea. As it fascinates me that somewhere in Bangkok, someone is walking up stairs while I type at an absurdly small desk in the Galapagos, I thought maybe it might, just might be somewhat sort of interesting to hear what life is like on a boat...
So, here is a 24-hour period, in my real life, aboard Aldebaran on this past passage: (I actually wrote this on passage; that is how authentic it is.)
Today, I:
1. Started writing this week’s article
2. Emailed Heather our position (She emails it out to friends and family so they know we’re alive) (and in the case of my parents, so they can plot us out on their wall-sized map.) (How cute!) (Come to think of it, if anyone wants to be added to the forward list, let me know)
3. Chatted with crewmates. We went over “What it means to be on watch” which was a frank plea for people not to watch DVDs at night because it endangers everyone’s lives. Everyone was okay with that. We also refreshed our “Abandon Ship Procedures” because there are a lot of killer whales in these parts that sometimes ram boats. I am in charge of passing out life jackets and bringing the ditch kit and medical kits into the life raft. (I briefly wrote about shopping for ditch kit items in one of my first posts—Hmm store brand, or name brand enema kit?)
4. Made dinner: coconut shrimp with pineapple sauce, rosemary potato bread, broccoli, brownies (I started the bread in the early afternoon) (Gosh that was an important clarification)
5. Made myself available for the 50-hour engine check because I keep missing the checks and really had no idea how to check the oil level and was growing quite embarrassed of this fact. I also changed the Racor and primary fuel filters. At last, I have been illuminated.
6. Read 4 pages in The Wealth of Nations. (Easily distracted. Vowed to read more tomorrow).
7. Finished up my day watch (Which is from 5pm-8pm). This usually includes a stunning sunset. Today there was a wide banner of purple, red and yellow as the sun simmered over the horizon. It was warm, composed and happy.
8.Took a gander at, OMIGOD, the Southern Cross AND Polaris upon George’s urging. I was steering, listening to my iPod, when I saw his head poke up the companionway. He loves to point out that the Southern Cross and Polaris are both visible in the sky from where we are. I think he’s mentioned it the last three nights. It’s still pretty cool though.
9. It’s getting late, it’s around 9pm and so I had better hit the sack. (I’m not kidding). My night watch is from 4-6am. (Shouldn’t it be morning watch?!?!) I am already starting to think of what to listen to. I’ve been trying to mix it up from the usual. Last night, I listened to Christmas music, Avril Lavigne, Weezer and The Sea and Cake. I guess you could say the night started out low and reached a significant elevation. I have really no idea how the Christmas music got in there. (Good god how embarrassing. And in April, nonetheless). I think it was on shuffle, and some Harry Connick Jr. song came on or something. After that, the obligatory Mariah Carey All I Want For Christmas is You (except in this case, it was All I Want for Christmas is Poo, because I can´t take that song seriously) induced a really stunning lip-synch with a flashlight microphone that I’m sorry to say only a few phosphorescent plankton managed to catch.
10. Instead of, let’s say, pondering some way to solve global poverty, this is what I thought about during my night watch:
(PREFACE: Being on watch, listening to music, steering while everyone is sleeping… It’s a big blank space out there, an endless white room from a dream…. And watches provide 5 hours a day for thinking about THE MEANING OF LIFE, PRECISELY HOW QUICKLY I WOULD DIE WITHOUT CONTACTS, WHAT TO MAKE FOR DINNER TOMORROW. Not very often in normal life do you have two solid blocks of hours to sit and stare into nothingness. So much thinking can be dangerous. This is a very up-close and personal look at what I think about when I’m alone for hours and hours. Are you ready?)
Okay. I amused myself by:
1. Planning out a play list and menu for a party I may or may not have in the far-distant future.
2. Singing sailing-related renditions of Britney Spears’ songs:
“But wait a minute, isn't this the screw I dropped into the ocean?"
"Yeah, yes it is,"
"But I thought when it fell into 2-mile deep water, that was the end of it."
"Well baby, I went down and got it for you."
"Aww, you shouldn't have."
“OOPS I ... DID IT AGAIN. I played with your mind, oh baby baby, oops, you think that was the last 5/8ths in screwwwww, that I lost it foreeever…”
3. Getting excited for all these things I want to do at home like play more viola, create several large and impressive paintings, go to more shows, make a nicer easel, take Spanish, or maybe Chinese, take salsa, go to cooking classes, learn more about engines, study and dropkick the shit out of the GMAT, read more of gosh darn everything, read that damn book on Pi I never finished, sail more, windsurf more, do sweet things with the RTW program, think about buying another bike, make a dress out of this sweet fabric I got in Saba, save money for more travel, and on and on... and then realizing there´s no way I´m going to have time... :( :( :( :( :(
AND
3. Picturing fanciful variations on the scene at O’Hare airport when we arrive home.
a. Running over to the Hudson News stand, tearing the newspapers off, ripping apart magazines, throwing them all over, rubbing them together, sitting in a stew of current events, then yelling, “OH MY GOSH, what’s happened!?!?!”
b. Showing up wearing a combination of every indigenous costume we’ve seen on our trip, but acting as though this is just a change I have undergone. I am just worldlier now and there’s nothing funny about it. Sorry family, but if you think I’ll go back to jeans after the beaded leg-wraps of the San Blas and green leprechaun-like hats from the Ecuadorian Andes, think again.
c. After somehow managing to capture and retain a Galapagos Tortoise, attempting to pass through customs while riding it.
d. After somehow managing to capture and retain a Galapagos Tortoise, moving it in to my new apartment, casually introducing it to the roommates when they inquire. “Oh Fluffy? Yeah, he’s a tortoise. You don’t mind, right?”
e. After somehow managing to capture and retain two Galapagos Tortoises, having long-since set up a “tortoise- friendly” environment in my apartment, searching the Internet with “getting tortoises to mate,” “songs that put tortoises in the mood,” “tortoise mating in captivity”, “how to raise captive Galapagos tortoise babies”.
Yep. Yep. That’s it. Nooo string theory. Just ridiculous daydreams. I’ll think of something useful tomorrow…
Whew, so I guess the secret´s out: passages can get sliiiiightly boring.
After a night in Quito, we headed to The Otavalo Market. The Otavalo Market is supposedly the largest market in South America. This means that they have enough alpaca sweaters, blankets, wall-coverings, scarves, tableclothes, table-runners, napkins, diapers and technicolar dreamcoats to build every person in Ecuador a three-story alpaca mansion. Yes. Three soft, sweatery stories of knit house per person. There is just that much alpacaness at the Otavalo Market. There were dozens of other wares for sale. You could buy an Inca vs. Spaniard chess set, hammocks, pigs, five trillion kinds of beans, jewelry, soap, cell-phone cases and armadillo-backed guitars. It was quite an experience. Bargaining was a lot of fun.
Then we returned to Quito. We toured some churches, took some photos, hiked up to a volcano called Cayumbe, and hung out at the hostel. We met some very wonderful people, one of whom decided to travel with us for a few days. The hike was great except the altitude made me sick. I took a really nice nap on the side of the glacier while everyone finished the hike. It was tough to admit defeat, but the strawberry yogurt I spewed towards a particularly scenic vista was argument enough. I settled in on a nice dry patch and cuddled up with my "when in Rome" alpaca sweater. There was something very soothing about sleeping on the side of a gigantic volcano. I felt like I was on the back of a dragon or something. Actually, a dragon is almost too close a paralell. I felt like I was curled up in the mouth of a lion; it was a dry and arid mouth surrounded by tundra and unprotected from sunburn.
Surfing was okay. I can't really claim to have "surfed" per se. I would say I did a great job of swimming after my board. Of course, it was attached to my left ankle at all times, but I assure you, loads of skill were involved in its retrieval, namely breathing before getting smashed by more waves. I kind of almost got up once or twice. I'll have to try again some other time. Maybe a lesson would be a good idea, too. It got slightly tiring to be thrown around in the salt water like a sock on the spin cycle, but the water was wonderfully warm and the experience was worthwhile.
Other highlights of Montanita include this bar with really cheesy music videos. In one, there were two backup guitar players who leaned forward and backward in unison while playing the same chord over and over again. It was awesome.
Let´s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.
After Panama, we did a bit of sailing.
Somewhere in there we crossed the equator. It was a fancy affair. With King Neptune presiding, we became Shellbacks instead of Pollywogs, according to sailing lore. (It is plainly better to be more turtle-like than wog-like). This involved initiation into The Solemn Mysteries of the Ancient Order of the Deep. I could explain more, but we´d have to be on a boat in the middle of the ocean and I´d have to paint your face with ground-up squid and make you do a cajun walz while in a hand-stand, while spinning a beret with llamas on it on your left foot, while bouncing a rubber ball with your chin and singing, "Sunshine Superman" after inhaling helium from a balloon that you fabricated and filled using only pork products. The choice is yours, but I´d recommend getting some experience before putting yourself out there. Luckily for us, no one aboard had crossed the ecuator before, so there were no unpleasant initiation rituals.
Along the passage to Ecuador, I bid farewell to my evil watch. He was buried at sea in the SS Beep, a paper boat of the shoddiest construction. In the watch´s manual, an alarm isn´t even mentioned, but I assure you one existed. That thing would go off at completely random times during the day and not shut up for many long minutes. Then it would start up again and go off once or twice, then stop and resume ten minutes later. More than likely it had some salt water in its innards, but I´d rather just say it was evil through and through. From its cheap black rubber band to its smug blue face, the thing sustained itself on the breath of my sighs and the scent of my pain ... when it wasn´t just sitting at the bottom of my locker.
After those two momentous events, and a lot of movement over water, we arrived safely and soundly in Salinas, Ecuador.
"OKAYYYYYYY," he says. "THANNNNNKS. CAN YOU GET ME A SMALLER ONE, SOME WD40, PAPER TOWELS, A ZIP TIE, AND WAIT, HOLD THIS" "OKAYYYYYYYYY. BE RIIIGHT BACK." ... it´s just that everything´s so noisy and wet that you can´t help but feel like you´re out there saving the world. Same goes for being up the mast. I think the lesson here is: Discomfort plus hard of hearing = drama/extreme feelings of usefulness.
The reason for my first visit to Optica Sunshine was directly related the swift removal of eyewear from my face and placement of it into the ocean. My glasses were knocked off by an indifferent Mr. Thirsty. I had been wielding our dinghy bailer with brilliant, but needless zeal. His long straw smacked me in the face and sent my glasses into the deep. After two attempts by both Aaron and myself, somebody suggested, “Let’s discontinue our efforts to free-dive 50 feet to look for glasses that have fallen in or around a 70-foot radius of the stern.”
So that had been Wednesday’s adventure – finding an optometrist in Panama. I held my fingers up to my face to look like glasses. I said things like, “lunettes, lenets, lenses, glasses, glass, can’t see, no see.” Ryan said things in Spanish to the cab driver. At some point, we were at a McDonald’s. Then we showed up at Sunshine Optica and I entrusted my vision to Dr. Humberto Schouwe. He looked at the unopened contact lens I had brought. He nodded. He sat me down. I read letters to him in English and he spoke to me in Spanish. He confirmed my prescription and sent me out to Xiohara.
I tried on all kinds of frames. The choices were limited. I could go artsy, or I could go 80s. Ryan suggested basketball goggles. I narrowed the field to two and made Ryan try them on so I could see what they looked like. Then I chose these black ones and paid the $70 it cost for the exam, lenses and frames. I did a little dance in my head and agreed to pick them up Saturday, today, at 10AM.
It was determined, after this remarkable upfront success with the optometrist, that I would be fine to healthcare-treasure hunt in Colon today without a bodyguard or translator. After a $1 cab ride, I showed up at Dr Schouwe’s door and waited to be buzzed in. Part of me wished I had asked the driver to wait until I was let in. There were questionable loiterers all over the place. In a moment, Xiohara buzzed. She rose from her desk to greet me when I walked in. She met me in the middle of the store and hugged me with a large smile on her face. She made a kissing sound by my cheek. She was glad I made it back. I was glad, too, though somewhat alarmed that she would take relief in knowing I had come to retrieve my pre-paid glasses.
After retrieving the glasses, I set off to find a taxi. Hearing “Mack the Knife” in my head, my eyes darted from shady character to shady character. I scuttled along, trying to make myself as invisible and uninteresting as possible, while also searching frantically for a taxi. I waved to two without passengers. Their drivers shook their heads at me and drove past. Confused, I waved down a third. Luckily, he pulled to a stop. “Hola. Central Medical Caribe, por favor,” I said.
I passed off another $1 bill to the cabbie and waited to be buzzed into the emergency room. The inside of the building was typical, as hospitals go, but had an odd sense of being less clean than U.S. ones, though I saw nothing to give me this impression. I presented myself at the desk. In my best charades and broken Spanish, and with a little help from my friend Latin American Spanish Phrasebook, I explained to the receptionist that I needed to see a doctor. Really though, I shouldn’t give myself too much credit for communication. I think the pussing, crusty red welt on my foot spoke the international language of Nasty quite fluently.
The girl walked me down the hall. People talked to one another, looked at me, pointed at me, pointed down hallways. I was sat down in a waiting area. Less than a minute later, Latin American Spanish Phrasebook, a doctor and I discussed my condition.
“Hongo,” said the doctor. “Blahbitty blah ba blah blah hongo,” she said.
I provided her with a blank look followed by a concerted effort to shuffle pages.
“Hongo.” She said again, deliberately. Obviously she was following the classic theory, We Don’t Speak the Same Language, Which Means You Understand My Language When I speak Slowly.
She took Latin American Spanish Phrasebook from my hands and flipped to the Food section. I gestured to the back of the book where the dictionary is, but she found what she was looking for. “Hongo.” She pointed to the English definition: Button mushroom. I immediately pictured a large white plate with one sautéed morel being placed in front of me by Sascha Cohen with a French accent. No, no, button mushroom. … pause… “FUNGUS!” I said. “Si! Si!” Never before had I expressed excitement at the discovery of a fungal infection on my body. Extraneously, never before have I had one.
The doctor wrote a prescription and instructed me to lie down so she could clean the affected area. “Gracias,” I said and looked over the prescription. I wondered if it could have any interactions with doxycycline, my anti-malaria drug of choice. I pulled out Latin American Spanish Phrasebook and went to town for about 5 minutes. Judging from the doctor’s varied, but eager interest in my explanations, I think her responses went something like this. “You are already on this medication?!” “YOU HAVE MALARIA?!?!” “Oh. Si! No, no problem.”
Moments later, I was back in the waiting room, laying down a MasterCard and signing my name to a receipt for $40. They called me a cab, buzzed me out and told the driver to take me to a pharmacy. It was an efficient little operation and aside from the credit card slip, the only paperwork required was printing my name on the prescription pad. The taxi after the pharmacy came quickly and I was soon in the safety of a moving vehicle. We drove through Colon en route to the final destination: home. I had successfully obtained my new glasses and been treated for a fungal infection. Thursday was coming up roses.
In Colon, all of the buildings are in ruins and the gutters carry a stench that smells like real excrement, not just that general bad smell you say is poo when you lack a better description. The street vendors sell what looks to be lottery tickets, in addition to rolls of plastic tablecloths that can be cut to a size of your choosing. The fruit and food stands look like armored trucks, but are buzzing with flies. On another day, I had bought a new bathing suit and handed my $8 to a man behind bulletproof glass. The people don’t seem poor or hungry, but there is desperation between the lines.
My taxi pulled into the yacht club drive. It was around 2pm and the adventure concluded. When I got back to Aldebaran, I climbed aboard, displaying my fungus cream, pills and glasses with triumphant, over-the-head gestures to a crowd of clapping crewmates. Just kidding.
After a weekend with the San Blas’ inhabitants, the Kuna Indians, at their yearly independence festival, life in the islands was demystified. We ate in their huts-- hearty, piles of plantains in white broth, fried fish and lots of coffee. Their children pulled on the Beards’ beards, and we hung out in their hammocks. Even the most brawny of their men came up to our chests. By the end of it, we had friends and we had enemies.
The best part was the independence festival. The Kuna revolution from Panama was in 1925 and we relived nearly every second of it in a three-day reenactment ceremony. At one point, we were herded into a large gathering in one of the big huts. The men and women were split up, so I sat alone on the far side of the room, a literal foot taller than my neighbors. We did not share a common language, and thus had little to say to one another. However, though wrong I could be, I think I felt a bit accepted, maybe even liked by the end of it. I watched with respect and took pictures of them to show them on my camera. They laughed and handed me hand-rolled cigarettes which I accepted, but re-gifted.
Later, we returned to our friend and guide, Raul’s house. We paid him and bought him some drinks. Then he became rather friendly and made many joking comments about leaving his wife to go to Panama City. The neighbors threw breadfruit at our host’s house, presumably angry that he had made more money from us in a few days than they make in two or three months. Things seemed smooth by the time we left, as Raul and his wife embraced and Aaron told her not to worry, we’d ditch Raul and save her if necessary.
...but that was because we were in a gale 90 miles off the coast of Colombia. It had nothing to do with the news.
The boat was rocking and rolling, the winds were up to 40 knots and the men were topside, vomiting. (Not really. Only one of them puked and that was in the sink, but you can see how I'd want to say that for effect.) I opened the satellite email to send tidings of safety, and holy smokes, I got an email with HUGE news. It turns out, the man who used to cut my Lego men's heads off with his Lego men's chainsaws has declared himself fit to have and to hold, 'till death do they part, the lovely and amazing girlfriend he's so courted for the past half-decade or so: My brother is engaged! Instead of spewing, I immediately started crying.
Happiness bodyslammed seasickness and I wandered topside to share my thoughts with the crew. "I wonder where they're going to have the wedding," I said. "I wonder what the ring looks like!" "I wonder what color towels they're going to get and if they'll be monogrammed."
"My brother is getting his drivers' license," said Brian. "Oh, what? It's not family news time?"
"What should I get them? I think I'll get them a present from Ecuador instead of The Pottery Barn. What do you think? What about Colombia? Think I'll find anything good in Colombia?"
Feet from my yabbering head, the waves crashed over the deck sending buckets down my jacket. I gasped periodically as cold, wet sea flowed from my neck to my ankles through the complicated infrastructure of foul-weather gear.
"Can you believe it?" I asked. "This is the end of an era! We're really growing up."
"Yep. Wow," said Aaron.
I looked at the black waves and their white hats. A wave crashed into the cockpit, pouring me a salty drink, shutting my valve of useless thoughts. Wow. They're really getting married. Buck-teeth and double-bridged glasses, cuff-links and a white lab coat, kickball with the neighborhoood kids and cycling races-- the years have added together and their sum is somewhere along these waves. It's ever changing, rolling up and down with the wind and the currents. The area under them and the distance in front of them will always evolve.
Aldebaran bobbed around. "Odysseus," said the ocean, "calm your thoughts of forever." Crash. Splash.
"Our whole family is going to be there!" I realized. "And the flowers will be so pretty."
In the Caribbean, "You Okay, baby?" means, "Hello. How are you today?"
In the few fleeting moments before our departure for Colombia, I would like to jot down a few bright memories from Antigua. Hopefully, I can elaborate later.
1. When I heard some interesting music blasting from a bar in St. John's, I asked the bartender what it was. She walked me outside and said several things I didn't understand. Then we walked down an alley to a big gray building where she seemed to think I could find music. It was closed. She told me to come back tomorrow. I had to work the next few days, but I returned to St. John's to shop at the market this morning. I debated going back to the bar. It was apparent when I had gone the last time that they didn't see many white girls. They especially didn't see any white girls who wanted to buy the music they blasted out of 4 foot square speakers. I had to go back. She was there, and had made me a mix CD of her favorite songs. She didn't think I'd come back, but she understood when I told her I had to work. We're pretty much best friends now.
2. On the bus ride back, (sidenote: buses in Antigua are about as big as a large van, but fill with about 40 people and are sometimes driven by people who look like Ali G) I learned about street names. The bus had emptied as we neared the yacht club and the driver struck up a conversation. "What's your name?" "ASHLEY!" I shouted above the lawnmower-like engine. "What's yours?"
"Robert," he told me. Then he asked what my street name was. "What's that?" I asked.
"It's what they call you on the street."
I wasn't sure if this man thought I was a prostitute; a prostitute wearing a baggy long-sleeved UV-protectant shirt.
"I don't have one," I said. "What's yours?"
"Blood," he said.
"Do you make up your own street name, or does somebody give you one?" I asked.
"NO! You can't make up your own," he said.
"How did you get to be called Blood?"
"Once I was hit by a car. The other guy everyone called Blood wasn't around anymore, so they called me Blood."
When I was leaving the cab, I asked Blood to give me a street name.
"Ok, your name is Second Time. Because you've ridden the bus twice." The bus, like the bar, isn't used to people without street names.
3. Another quick note -- Running in Antigua was amazing: the hills, the flowers in yards, the expanses of space, beach and water. On my way back yesterday, tired from the hills and afternoon sun, I finally caught sight of masts poking up over the countryside. "Ahh, home," I thought.
Similar to the old saying, "Cruising is fixing boats in paradise," a new axiom could be made about what we do: "Working on Reach the World is working in ridiculous situations."
Evidence:
1. Trying to write on passage = vomiting all over the galley sink. Chunks cling to the sides of the sink and slide down slowly. You can calm your flaming esophagus with the sight of a purple sunset.
2. If at all, bars are the only places with available outlets. This means:
A. Writing for kids to a soundtrack of Shakira, Kanye West and the Pussy Cat Dolls
B. Viewing "intimate" and "expressive" dancing just a stride from this very computer
C. Karaoke night: There's nothing like, "Total Eclipse of the Heart" at the 6 billion decibel level when you're trying to make The Arecibo Radio Frequency Telescope interesting to 9-year-olds.
D. Someone just went by doing this intense, but very fluid air-guitar/shuffle/leap across the room.
These are memorable times. It was the air-guitar that started me thinking. We might as well relish the times we can carry our computers across dry land to a place with plentiful electricity. If that comes with a partly-out of tune, "Hotel California," and dozens of yachties, those are the breaks. Soon, it'll be back to the sea, and the next educational sojourn. Too soon, it'll be back to town; back to the 'race. You know, the place where cheeseburgers are accessable, but the tuna is expensive.
You know what is my business? What parts of my undergarments are unknowingly exposed. I can be very oblivious and this is something I need to work on. People say "Oh, you're traveling with all guys. They're going to look out for you." Umm. Yes and no. Yesterday, we had dropped off our laundry and I only had one shirt left. I had never worn it before and I don't really look in the mirror on the boat. All day, I walked around exposing part of a particularly flamboyant bra. "Everyone is SO friendly here!" I said. "Hey guys, I got a free purse at the sail maker's!" --- They responded: Yeah, I'll bet you did. Look in a mirror. Ahh, lovely.
On a similar note, when we were on Saba Rock, I was carrying several bags to relocate tables for a better place to work when my wrap skirt unraveled leaving me with little choice but to display my glorious sailing team underwear to an entire restaurant full of people. So as I was turning around in an attempt to cover up, I TRIPPED and FELL on my FACE. Luckily, most people were consuming food at the time and were actually not watching my every move. In the words of the batender, "Hey nice necklace, do you want some tequila?" These kinds of things just happen to me. One thing's for sure, I'm going to wear a full-body baggy jump suit when we get to Colombia. Yes, that's right. Full-body. Baggy. Jump. Suit. Maybe burlap so I look especially unfriendly and potato-like. I'm not saying potatoes are unfriendly, per se.
Things I like:
1. What I do
2. Hose clamps
3. Zip ties
4. Jumping off the boat from a halyard
5. Our tiny dinghy and its 15 horse engine
6. What I will do in the future
7. The people at Tropical Sails
Death List
1. The Gusher 10 manual bilge pump, its bad attitude and all of its kin
2. Mold on my straw hat
3. When people growl while working
All of the people around these islands are families on vacations. Here we are, 4 of us of similar age and eager to sightsee, and I recently found myself wishing I too were on a family vacation. Traveling with friends is great, but as we get older, family trips are fewer and farther between, and their tone is changing. I yearn for the good old days.
On family trips, there was a lot of bonding involved and it’s okay to get annoyed with one another. "I don't want to go to the 30 millionth museum in Paris, I don't care if they're giving away the Mona Lisa! " "Okay kids, run up and check if they have a vacancy for the 20th time." "They have Gucci in the states, get back in the car!"
Family vacations were tornado-like tours of every historical, topographical, cultural and aesthetically pleasing site within a 1000-mile radius of each hotel or tent, each day. Guidebooks were sometimes involved, but there was a lot of behind-the-scenes planning by the 'rents. "We'll tell them it's a short hike, throw on the Barbara Streisand, drive into the Alps and before they know it, we'll all be climbing up vertical caves deep in the heart of Switzerland. … I don’t think we’ll hear the whining in the caves."
Every re-occurring trip was pumped to the max. “Ashley, want to wake up at 5 and get in 10 miles before breakfast so we can water-ski before lunch (sail if it’s windy, read if it’s raining)?” “This family makes first tracks and is last on the lift.” It was good to pack all that in there. Now I realize how precious vacation time is and how much there is to see and do.
Ahh well, someday I can englighten my own family. Today was a beautiful day on Saba Rock. Families are all around. They build memories and annoy one another while sailing aboard chartered chariots of holiday cheer. “Honey, pull in the gosh darn jib. Timmy, what did I say about handstands on the lifelines! Dakota, tell your new friend Dakota to go back to her own family and leave the Cheezits here. Randy! For the last time, if you play with the gaff, somebody is going to lose an eye.”
Yikes, this kind of reminds me of my own crew. Oh crew, I guess you’re family. But seriously, no Barbara Streisand.
Can you believe it? Neither could I. We show up for a tour of the largest radio telescope in the world and they ask us to give speeches!! What do we know about top-secret, super-duper-intense technology as used in such movies as Goldeneye 007 and Contact?!
Alot. So much, I can't even write it all down. We just know that much. Trust us. Because they did. and you should. Okay, bye.
I wish I had more time to edit and revise, but I barely have time to sail and work. I just wanted to mention that I wish I could make this better - flow, grammar, structure, voice, you name it. No excuses, just explanation. :)
The disappearance of land from line of sight isn’t all that unusual or exceptional. However, when it happens for the first time and one is intending to sail a good part, if not entirely, around the globe, loosing sight of land is a rather large moment. For me, it wasn’t a memorable moment immediately. I wasn’t sitting on deck staring out with a hand shielding my eyes from the sun, watching wistfully as land morphed from a blob to a dot. Somehow, in between setting the sails and discussing the weather, the coast of the United States had faded below the horizon and the planet’s curvature now refused to display anything but a clean, endless parade of waves and sky.
It’s funny how you can’t actually participate in these moments until they have passed. When we cast of the lines at the dock in New York City, the momentous theatrical feeling one might expect was not present. We were just us, the Aldebaran crew, going for a sail…around the world. Goodbye, parents, goodbye friends. We love you, but we’ll see one another soon.
My moment came later, on watch alone. We were in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and I could nearly feel my brain wrinkling with new emotions. And yet, people do this trip all the time. Once a year, it’s a competition: The Newport to Bermuda Race. But no, this time was different, this particular piece of ocean in the middle of the vast blue landscape, was a wide-open, wonderfully lonely world. It was like finding oneself suddenly naked in an empty auditorium. Something feels odd, but something bigger feels beautifully at ease. I’m going to dance on the stage now, spin and leap like a fool. Because there is no show, there is no audience.
I’m on watch alone and there’s no one for miles. At least, no one we could reach via VHF radio because that works on line of sight, as I recently learned from the ‘Why SSB?’ Section of the obtuse SSB manual… Waves. Wind. I’m going to remember this for the rest of my life. No one ever thinks, “I’m going to forget this experience immediately,” but nevertheless, I’m holding on to this, my first true experience of falling in love with the ocean. Lakes and day-sails are small tastes. This, this is going to make me cry. This, this is it.
We’ll see how I feel after the 26 day passage to the Marquesas.
We’re leaving Bermuda tomorrow. I’ll get back to that later.
