Right before the break

I've taken a large hiatus from this blog thing. I finally feel settled down enough to start working towards it again, if anything but to look back on in a few years from now. Life is good, I'm in a new city, and I don't need to explain that boring stuff. Pretty much the bottom line is that we've been having horrible floods here, school had to be shut down, houses dismantled, and my vacation ruined(to a degree). Here are some pics(my camera got stolen, so I had to borrow these).

On the first order of business, I went to a bullfight. It was one of those things that I knew I shouldn't have gone to, but thought maybe for the experience it would have been worth it...it wasn't. At least there were potentially beautiful women wearing red. And you know what my dad always says about potentially beautiful women, they are the next best thing to actual beautiful women.



Well a couple of people and I went to Puerto La Cruz for Thanksgiving break. Nice beaches was the main highlight. I lost all those pictures, and we had a really nice first day after taking the night bus down in the morning. The second day we took a boat out to an island called Isla de Plata, and it started to pour on us. 3 hours later a boat picked us up, and upon arrival to the dock, they wouldn't let us off. This was why.



We stayed on the boat for an hour or two, the locals promising us the rain would stop in a few hours, and that river didn't look too promising either.

Untitled from TTT on Vimeo.

A combination of boredom, the cold, and me wearing nothing but my boxers and Karen's cape led us to make the decision to try to hike up the river and try to catch a bus at the top of the hill.





The current was no joke, and I lost a sandal on the way. Nothing is better than walking kilometers of dirty water ridden Venezuelan streets barefoot. Except not being barefoot.

The road turned into a gushing river, with torrents that could take down a small giant anteater.

scribblin the joe from TTT on Vimeo.

Lost my shoe in this one.



Finally we made it back to Puerto La Cruz, only to find that the entire city was flooded. When I thought that walking up that hill barefoot was gross, try walking a mile through garbage infested stagnant city murk! I'm still trying to shake that one off. The road was closed to the girls' hotel, and they got stuck on our side of town for a few hours. Not exactly a relaxing vacation, but definitely what travel is all about.



Next stop, Buenos Aires!

Today is March 6, 2010

I haven't been able to keep up with my blog at all, and I think until I have a little more free time, working internet, and less stress I will have to put it on hold.

Lately I have been doing a decent amount of traveling, and in that time I've been doing alot of thinking. Thinking about what I'm going to do the next 3 years in Venezuela, my friends and family, and really trying to find my purpose in life. I'm not really accustomed to playing with such thoughts, and it's been quite scary, and somewhat revealing. One frequent cinematic theme is the idea of fate, some young poor boy somewhere in a distant land was destined to become a great king and reunite the then modern world into peace and order. 6 months ago if you asked me if I believed in fate, I'd probably ask you if you believed in Santa Claus. 6 years ago if you asked me the exact same question, I'd tell you clearly I did with the confidence of a telemarketer. Now I've been thinking about it more, and the idea that fate does not exist, truly scares me.

I always figured there would be a path for me to go down, that everything would eventually fall into place, and whichever way I turned, I would end up exactly where I was supposed to. It's quite a nice thought in some ways. Scary in others. But there was security in it. I felt that someone or something was gently pushing me along the path, throwing in the good people and the bad, to push me in the right direction. Right now I've never felt so alone. It's an interesting thing really, it's been making me sappy, I've been dwelling about past friends and relationships, things which I'd normally never do, and question decisions that I've made in the past. Did I really choose what is right for me? Is there a right for me? I've always felt invincible, but being sick with one thing after the other since I've been in Venezuela(and no access to medical care doesn't help in the least) has really made me question my immortality. Right now I'm covered in a rash from who knows what, couldn't even open my right eye this morning, and I itch all over. And in my special places too. In all reality it's possible I may just off and die any day now, and what is it that I'll leave behind? Will I leave anything behind? Is it important to leave anything behind? Have I done everything in my power to make this world a better place for me and those like me? Or should it even matter? All these are questions to which I have pondered, and some I feel I have answers.

Trying to look at my life from a logical standpoint, I will try to answer to myself a few things. Do I feel that I've lived a worthy life, if I were to die tomorrow, could I look back at all the things I've done and really feel confident that I have? The answer is undeniably yes. I feel that in my 24 years I've managed to do more things than most, and not that comparing myself to other people is a way to judge myself, but I do feel I can use it as a rough gauge of success. What do I mean by success? Having a trophy wife, and millions of dollars? Absolutely. Since I have both, I will finish this pointless bore here.

In my life I've been able to travel, make wonderful friends, and push myself further through hardships that I never would have been able to. Case in point, I'm still here at Escuela Anaco. This has easily been the most difficult time of my life, not because I'm living in a foreign country and I can't adapt, although that doesn't help, but a variety of factors are involved. Some of these factors include living on campus with the most evil man I've ever met in my life(that's not an exaggeration), first year of teaching, constant self-diagnosis and illness, robbed, loneliness, and horrible music. Would I do this again knowing what I was getting myself into? The answer is ABSOLUTELY NOT, there have been things here which I have not told anyone, and happen on such a frequent basis that there is no possible way to recollect them all. Would I retract this time in my life for a comfortable life in the states? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Nothing has made me more appreciative for my home country than being in the heart of Chavez's so called socialist revolution.

Since I've been here, I've learned so many things, about myself, this country, teaching, people, and enlightened myself to an entire new world. I have opened up the doors to my future, if I survive till June, and have locked in a 2 year contract to a great school in an actual city in Venezuela. By the end of my 3 year stay here, I should have fluent speaking Spanish under my belt, the world economy should have picked up, if I choose to move home, or Europe(cushy Europe sounds really nice to me right now), or wherever the wind blows me.

Perhaps fate isn't the path that is written out for you, and I feel really cheesy even writing my thoughts in a public place, but perhaps it's the notion that you need to draw your own path. Right now I'm digging my path into the woods, and we'll all see where I end up on the other side.



Next subject...the past. As I said earlier, I have been thinking about my past lately. I moved around quite a bit as a kid, and always envied those guys in high school who could share their middle school memories with each other, or even elementary school. Wow, that would be an experience to know someone for that long. I began the first inscriptions on my map when I was a teenager in California. Both of my parents lived in Rosamond, and I hated that place about as much as I hate an empty desert town with one grocery store and a few gas stations. Oh wait...Luckily my parents were open minded enough to let me move in with a friend, and they were sympathetic enough to take me. And again, wow what a life changing experience that was for me. Utah is now the only place I call home. There resides a few people that I truly call friends. I have about 3 of them. I even fell in love once. I know many more people that I truly love, and enjoy their company, but aren't what I consider my real friends. My real friends are the people that I am going to be in touch with until I'm an old man, the ones that I really grew with and developed with, and the ones I will continue to grow with. To have them is something so special that I really can't put it into my words. And I didn't even realize it until I up and left.

I may never have friends of this caliber again, and that is a concern for me, but I know who my friends are, and those few people should know who they are too.

I just made a playlist in itunes cataloging my high school and college experiences in no particular order. Songs from Murder City Devils, Pinback, New Order, The Arcade Fire, Steve Malkmus and the Jicks, and many more. Music has been taking me back to old times, happy times, and sad times. I try to save these memories as best as I can, as they are all I have left of being a child. Well I'll always be a child, but of that certain child. I went from skating in the cold winters, to driving to the sacramento hills with Troy Eddlemon, to walking to school in the chilly Utah autumn. I went through phases in skateboarding, Mutiny, Random Lurkers, even our own Non-Chalant Dinosaur. It was quite a ride. For each period of my life, there are songs that define it. Whether the songs are good are not, that is not the point. It's the nostalgia that they bring. I wonder what will be the defining songs of the Venezuela playlist? Hopefully not something by Pitbull...

I used to question if I played my cards right, if I did everything I was supposed to. I always questioned where I'd be right now if I never broke my foot, if I never tore the ligament in my ankle. Did I have a choice in those occurrences? I always lingered on the thought what would happen if my older brother never broke his ankle, my brother which I adored and loved and looked up to, who had his faults, who later fell into drugs in a sad dark realm. I questioned what would have happened if I would have been there for him when he came to live me, maybe if I just spent more time with him than following my own self interests, maybe he would have never overdosed. I took, and sometimes still do take alot of blame for things that I really have no control over. But then I think, if things were to have worked out "right" for me. I would have graduated college a year earlier, I would have had a job in just about any state I would have pleased, and I would not be here today. Maybe that's not such a bad thing, maybe my path would have turned somewhere else, but it didn't.

I'm not sure where I'm going with all of this, I'm just writing for the sake of writing. Maybe there is a theme hidden in here that one of the few people who read this can find. I don't know. All I do know is that I am shifting my focus on my thoughts. I wrote to someone recently that I wasn't afraid of death, I was afraid of not being able to live my life. I still stand by this. Instead of focusing on beliefs written by others, instead of dwelling on past experiences, or making sure others are content or happy, I need to focus on myself. I need to focus on my health, my progress, my relationships, and my overall happiness. I am no longer trying to figure out if fate has chosen a path for me, or if I've missed a great opportunity here or there with someone or something(I'm specifically referring to one), but instead I am focusing on figuring out this life. What is here, now, love, health, and future career/school opportunities.

I still want to have my house in Michigan on a lake with my pack of wild dogs, and I wish I could be there now. The only thing was if I did have it now, I wouldn't truly appreciate it.

Sorry for the ramble, I love you all. I'll be home soon and I can't wait.

-Timothy


p.s. And I even started writing a book. I hope to have 50 pages by Easter!

12/13/2009

Officially ten days until I'll be back in Los Angeles.

This weekend I went up to Puerto La Cruz, even though I should've been at school preparing for the winter break. It was Rafael's birthday, and there was a game of skate at "La Cruz" so I figured there was too much going on to pass up.

I left Saturday morning in a porpuesto, a car crammed with 6 people awaiting the hour and a half drive sitting next to another man in a wife beater. Luckily, I hadn't showered for a good while, so my own body odor matched his, and the battle was on.

Now maybe it was a combination of our combined BO, or maybe it was that nothing in Venezuela works, but the car broke down in a town about 30 minutes outside of Puerto La Cruz. Our taxi pulled over, gave us our money, and just let us sit there and figure out what the hell we were going to do. Luckily, after about 20 minutes, one of the other people in the car rounded up a taxi, and we hopped in.

Because of the absurd traffic at all hours in the pitiful attempts at streets here, the driver dropped us off at the Barcelona bus station instead. Imagine being in the picture perfect setting of the Brooklyn projects in the 70's, only instead you're in Venezuela, and you don't speak Spanish. Someone called one of their friends on the phone, and some dude came and picked us all up.

Now this dude looked pretty sketchy, but I was getting ancy, so decided to hop along. If they weren't taking the other taxi's, I was sure there was a reason. Then when he drove into the barrios, for hours, on his supposed traffic "detours," I began to worry. And by worry I mean seriously worry for my life. Then when I heard some other guy in the car say in a spiteful voice, "El no entiende NADA" I became even a bit more worried. After about an hour in the gasoline soaked car, sweating profusely from all my pores, I found something I recognized. Plaza Mayor in the adjacent city known as Lecheria. At a stop, I just hopped out, and ran to the safety of a nice secure Americanized mall.

That night I met up with Rafael, and everyone who skates at the big cross on Paseo Colon. A friend named Jesus organized a game of skate event, so I figured I might as well enter. I got out the first round, by a series of extremely basic maneuvers, but as Bill O'Reilly would have said, I did it live.

After we all went to Rafael's for his birthday party, and lucky me feeling super tired from my whole day, passed out asleep on the couch really early, but not before being captured in this photo stolen from facebook.



I get to see my family, my dog, and Scott real soon. I will also be able to go to Walmart...HYPE

12/09/2009

There is alot to catch up on, almost too much for what has occurred in the last few weeks.

First I'll start by saying I made some skateboarding friends in Puerto La Cruz, a bunch of really good guys. I stayed at my friend Rafael's house and we skated and hung out until the morning light. Then in the morning, they all started up drinking again, and started the day anew. I sure can't keep up, but I'll blame it on being sick.







The following weekend was Thanksgiving, and Marshall and I came up with a game plan to make it to Playa Medina, supposedly one of the best beaches around. It took us 2 1/2 days to finally get there, and we were able to spend the day there. Because of time constraints we had to leave the following morning, but it was a goal well worth setting.











After, I flew out to the job fair in Atlanta, to try to find an international teaching job. The first day I just hated being there, and thought it was a waste of time. The second day I loved being there, and wanted to move back to the states. I got an offer that I couldn't refuse from a big school in Venezuela, I accepted.

This changes the dynamic here at my school for me. There has been a power shift, and it's for the better. Next year huge changes are going to occur here, some for the better, and some for the worse. I almost wish they would have had their figures in about a month ago so I wouldn't have had to spend the money in Atlanta, but on the bright side I came out with a nice job in a big city.

Now things are falling into place at my school, and I kind of wish I was here to build it back up again. They tried lowballing Jason and Jacques, but gave Marshall and I decent offers. I had to decline, but it would have been interesting to stay to say the least.

I'm flying back to LA for Christmas because I'm still sick, and trying to make the best out of my 3 days off before I do. Isla Margarita here I come!

11/16/2009

Here I am, I think I'm still alive. After this weekend I realized I need to go back to the US of A and deal with a half competent doctor. I am not well.

Friday we headed off to Puerto La Cruz, with the plans of going to the pueblo of Santa Fe the following morning. We called it a night pretty early, I bought some Christmas gifts for certain people, and I heard what I thought were gunshots. Right outside of Marshall's hotel, where I usually stay, we saw this

Apparently someone went after a person with a bottle. Knowing the amount of blood, and the lack of health care here, I'm sure someone ended up dead.

The next morning we found the bus to Santa Fe. Took about an hour to get there, and we got our hotel for 80Bs a night. Apparently last year at this time, it was 50Bs a night. He showed me around the pueblo, all the little hotels on the beach, there was even one run by a couple of young Frenchmen, who have a Cane Corso. I heavily researched this breed when I was looking to get a dog after I graduated. I guess I had a change in plans, but I loved seeing one in person, and never thought I would see one here.

Marshall and I met another young Frenchman by the name of Cyril. He was pretty cool, and I'm starting to open up to the French.



We ran into several French people on the beach, the only tourists there. I have yet to meet an American here. Even if I did, I wouldn't be as impressed as I was by the vigilance and pride of this guy.



They talked me into going into the disco that night, the first place I've been to without a single attractive Venezuelan woman. This wasn't a good idea due to my sickness, and in the morning I felt sick as ever, and this was the defining moment into me wanting to go back to the states.

Now the problem is...how do I go about doing it? I have hardly any money, and a non refundable ticket to Quito which I wish I could use.

Below are a couple of pictures that I haven't used yet.

11/13/2009

Well, I booked my tickets over Christmas break. I'm going to Quito. I was feeling slightly better with my sickness, but now I'm feeling slightly worse again. I'm tired of this, over Christmas I'm just going to take an entire week to sleep and relax.

Today is Arqui's last day at school, I'm going to miss him. He's getting ready for college in the states.

I'm tired of Venezuelan failure, I bought my tickets to Quito, and they spelled my name wrong. On top of that, they couldn't change my name either. I paid twice the cost Jason did who got his tickets one month earlier, but on the plus side, I'm flying business class for the first time in my life! I looked for flights to LA to rest, see a doctor, see my family, and maybe even go home to Salt Lake, but all were booked.

Speaking of failure, Marshall linked to me this article.

Apparently Venezuela has been the same since 1998. Well, since the Spaniards came and raped the country I guess. I'm glad someone else can see our same perspective, the third sentence down is the one really worth reading. It really cracked me up, so much failure in one place, the day it proves me wrong will be a very interesting day for me.

Going to the beach for the weekend for some R&R. Still might be able to fly to ATL for the AASSA conference which will give me a huge leg up on a job for next year.

I still have some unfinished business in the states, and need to make some phone calls. I've been in a sappy mood of late.

Hospital Visit

Some pictures Jason took from when I had to go to the hospital. I don't think I had quite as much fun in my entire life as I did this night. It was great calling the ambulance and not have it show up. +1 for Venezuela.