Oh, I see! moments
Travel Cultures Language

World Views:

Topics

11

May

From Colorful Guatemala to Post-Vacation Blues

by Sally Baho on May 11, 2015

Off-centered door in yellow stucco wall, a colorful memory recalled during post-vacation blues. (Image © Scott Kafer)

The flowers aren’t the only thing that provide color in Antigua, Guatemala,
the houses remind you of a painter’s palette. © Scott Kafer

Finding the Color Wherever You Are

Only yesterday, I had returned from Guatemala, surrounded by people, colors, smells, and noise—music, cars, crowds, conversation. Now here I was back in Pacific Grove, CA, known as “America’s last hometown,” waking to the low hum of my refrigerator. Looking around, my once beloved apartment seemed silent, cold, desolate.

I felt as if someone had pulled the plug on me—where was everyone?  They had gone and left me with the post-vacation blues.

A Sense-sational Trip

Traveling—when done right—hits all your senses.  My trip began in the streets of Antigua, a colonial town and UNESCO World Heritage Site, where old cobblestone streets crawl past colorful facades.

I continued to noisy Guatemala City where a walk through the crowded Mercado Central captivated my senses. The sharp smell of fresh fruit. The pots of simmering meat. The sound and smell and taste of the sizzling tortillas on the griddle.

Close up of a moronga (blood sausage) taco with tomatoes and onions, and a Gallo beer bottle in the background., a tasty memory recalled during the post-vacation blues. (Image © Sally Baho)

Moronga (blood sausage) taco
at the Mercado Central in Guatemala City
© Sally Baho

I thought back to the two old ladies who insisted on feeding the gringa (me) some of the moronga (blood sausage) taco they were eating . . . with their bare hands.

I relived my flight north from Guatemala City to Flores and how the vista of the Isla de Flores in Lake Petén Itzá opened my eyes wide to new wonders.

Aerial view of Isla de Flores in northern Guatemala, a beautiful memory recalled during post-Vacation blues. (Image © Rafael Amado Deras)

Isla de Flores, Guatemala, where the water is as inviting as the view!
© Rafael Amado Deras

The memory of all these sensory experiences, however, only heightened my sense of sadness.

New Friends in New Places

I missed the new friends I had made, too. And I missed how easy it feels when I’m traveling to make new friends.

Only three days ago, I had shared a canoe ride with a lady I had just met. We drank a cold beer as we leisurely rowed away from the vibrant Isla de Flores. I was on vacation: no watch, no alarm clock, no email, no desk, just me and my whims.

I met Ilse on the street. We were both looking to rent a canoe which happened to be only for two people, and we were both alone.

“OK, quiero ponerme el traje de baño,” (OK, I have to change into my bathing suit) I said, as we coordinated payment and logistics.

“Y yo voy a comprar la cerveza,” (And I’ll go buy the beer), she answered.

Three wooden canoes on a body of water, providing one of endless experiences whose memory can spark the post-vacation blues. (Image © frankdennerlein / Thinkstock)

Where can this canoe take you?
© frankdennerlein / Thinkstock

Ten minutes later,  we were walking along the shore of the tiny island to a jerry-rigged “dock”—a few rusty canoes chained to a rotting post.  Balancing oars, plastic bags, and sandals, we climbed in the canoe and started talking about life.

It’s amazing how travel works—you lose inhibitions, you’re open to life and all the experiences it has to offer.  It’s so easy to share personal thoughts and stories, much more so than in your daily life.

Back to the Same Old Life in the Same Old Place

Here at home, life just wasn’t the same. To quell my loneliness and blues:

Bag of Guatemalan coffee in a Guatemalan textile bag with a worry doll, part of a strategy to get over the post-vacation blues. (Image © Sally Baho)

A cup of Guatemalan coffee and a worry doll didn’t get me over my post-vacation blues.
© Sally Baho

  • I put on some Latin music and made coffee from beans brought back from Guatemala.
  • I looked at my travel photos and researched cheap flights back to Guatemala.
  • I unwrapped my Guatemalan worry dolls and tried to pass off my big case of post-vacation blues to the tiny doll.

Blasting Away the Post-Vacation Blues

And then my phone buzzed. It was Saturday morning when my local running group meets for our long run.

“Are you coming? We want stories!”

I begrudgingly laced up my shoes and headed out to meet the group. We ran a route I had never run before.

One of the guys told me that we were approaching “The Window of the Bay” and, when we emerged from this clearing, there would be a beautiful view. He instructed me to yell, “we live here” as soon as I saw the view.

“How will I know?” I inquired.

“You’ll just know.”

So we continued our run, swapping stories, laughing, chatting when suddenly we came upon a clearing with a panoramic view of the ocean.

“WE LIVE HERE!” I screamed and did a jump for joy.

View of the Pacific Ocean, during a run designed to blast away the post-vacation blues. (Image © Sherry Long)

The view of the Pacific Ocean from the running path…
it’s hard to believe that the same waters touch Guatemala
© Sherry Long

Oh, I See

And like that, my post-vacation blues disappeared.

It dawned on me that it’s not about where you are; it’s about your attitude. It’s about finding the things that make your heart race where you live (or moving to the place that fulfills you, if that’s an option).

It’s about bringing back the openness to other people that you feel when you travel—the kind that makes you head down to the tourist trap in your area, chat with some travelers, and maybe even invite them for a canoe ride.

Airplane ticket from Flores to</br>Guatemala City, a scrapbook item that turns post-vacation blues into a good memory of the trip. (Image © Sally Baho)

I’m learning to see “goodbyes”
as “until next adventures”
© Sally Baho

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

 

Art of Travel/Guatemala

04

May

Connecting Through the Universal Language of Music

by Meredith Mullins on May 4, 2015

Two dancers in white at the rue Mouffetard in Paris, showing that music is the universal language of connection. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Sunday morning dancing on the rue Mouffetard in Paris
© Meredith Mullins

A Reminder of Old Paris: Singing and Dancing on the Rue Mouffetard

I want to make people cry, even when they don’t understand my words.   —Edith Piaf

It’s Sunday morning in the Square St Médard in Paris. I am singing in the warm sun . . . belting out the words “Tant que l’amour inondera mes matins” from Edith Piaf’s “L’Hymne à l’Amour” (The Hymn to Love).

With my limited French, I don’t quite understand what the words mean; but the song swells up inside and puts a little lump of emotion in my throat. I feel an unexplainable nostalgia.

There are people all around me singing the same words, with the same nostalgia. There are dancers swirling to the accordion accompaniment. Everyone is involved in the song. We are connected by a powerful force. The universal language of music.

Red haired dancer with male companion, dancing at le petit bal on rue Mouffetard, showing the universal language of music. (Image: Meredith Mullins)

A waltz of pure joy at Le Petit Bal Musette
© Meredith Mullins

Oh, I See: The Power of the Musical Bond

Every Sunday morning (except in extreme weather), a community of music lovers comes to the spontaneous musical stage set amidst the bustling market on the rue Mouffetard.

They come to “leave their troubles behind” and lose themselves in the music. They come to step back in time into the unaffected charm of French village life. They come, quite simply, to smile and feel the warmth of a neighborhood.

Singers at le petit bal on the rue Mouffetard , showing the universal language of music. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Singers from near and far join together as one chorus.
© Meredith Mullins

Le Petit Bal Musette

The leader, accordionist and singer Christian Bassoul, is dedicated to the revival of the “forgotten tradition” of the bal musette, a gathering of families and neighbors to sing and dance to accordion music in the streets.

Every Sunday for more than 30 years, Christian has organized the music. The rest of the story just falls into place with those who happen to stumble on the festivities.

Christian Bassoul at le petit bal on the rue Mouffetard, showing the universal language of music. (Image © Virginia Kelser Jones)

Christian Bassoul, the organizer of le Bal Musette, with singer Viviane Hatry
© Virginia Kelser Jones

“Regularity and continuity are important,” he says. “Some people come from outside of Paris or from far-away countries, so we try not to disappoint them.”

One American friend of the bal musette plans her schedule around the Sunday morning event. She flies in on Saturday and leaves on Monday. The perfect neighborhood weekend vacation.

The group meets the challenge of Paris weather, which can (and does) change every few minutes. “Sometimes we must sing between the raindrops (passer entre les gouttes),” Christian says. The show must go on.

Children dancing at le petit bal musette on the rue mouffetard, showing the universal language of music. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

The waltz knows no age limits.
© Meredith Mullins

A Group that Welcomes Everyone

The crowd is diverse—locals and strangers, young and old, worn tennis shoes and sparkling high heels, blue jeans and ruffles. The passionate dancers, singers, and musicians take center stage, aided by the supporting cast of the moment.

Michel Cygan, a dancer at le petit bal musette on the rue Mouffetard, showing the universal language of music. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Michel Cygan, a regular for more than 15 years
© Meredith Mullins

Many of the dancers are regulars. They have the impeccable style and graceful moves of the best of “Dancing with the Stars” but they’re not searching for fame or fortune. They are here for the sheer joy of dancing.

If you’re shy about dancing but have that “I want to dance” look in your eye or tap in your toe, one of the regulars will waltz you onto the dance floor (albeit asphalt). Or, don’t wait. Join in by yourself or grab hands with the welcoming circle of dancers.

Couple dancing toward the camera at le petit bal musette on the rue Mouffetard, showing the universal language of music. (Image © Meredith Mullins).

The smiles come naturally.
© Meredith Mullins

If you don’t know the words to the songs—so much a part of French tradition—a helpful regular will bring you a song sheet. Edith Piaf, Charles Trenet, Georges Brassens, Félix LeClerc, Aristide Bruant, Charles Aznavour, Josephine Baker, and Jacques Brel will come alive before your eyes.

Baby with song lyrics at le petit bal on the rue Mouffetard, showing the universal language of music. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

If you need a song sheet, don’t be afraid to ask.
© Meredith Mullins

A Chorus of Friendship

The Mouffetard group bonds through the music and has such community spirit that after the dancing in the square, they reconvene up the street for lunch together.

Then they clear the bistro floor and dance and sing some more. Sometimes on sunny summer days, they continue the party on the banks of the Seine.

B&W photo of dancers by the Seine, part of the rue Mouffetard group, showing the universal language of music. (Image© Meredith Mullins)

The dancing sometimes reconvenes on the banks of the Seine.
© Meredith Mullins

As a teacher of Christian’s said, “Music is like an immense house. You visit a room and there are two or three doors going to other rooms. You can never see all of it.” The possibilities are endless.

No Regrets

There is power in music that transcends the challenges of daily life. The universal language leaps over words and goes straight for the heart. And, on Sundays on the rue Mouffetard, the rhythms of old Paris bring people together in a communal smile.

When everyone sings Piaf’s “Non, je ne regret rien,” there is truth in the music. There are no regrets.

The dip, dancers at le petit bal musette on the rue Mouffetard, showing the universal language of music. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Dipping into life
© Meredith Mullins

More information on Christian Bassoul and Le Petit Bal Musette.

Paris celebrates the 100th anniversary of Edith Piaf’s birth with an exhibit at the Bibliothèque Nationale.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

 

Cultural Encounters/France (Paris)/The World's Music

28

Apr

What’s Underfoot on the Camino de Santiago?

by Eva Boynton on April 28, 2015

Feet in sandals standing over a sign of the Camino de Santiago, showing the different routes that cause travel inspiration. (image

Carried by their feet, pilgrims from around the world follow the signs of the Way of St. James.
© StockPhotoAstur / iStock

Every Kind of Travel Inspiration

Not because I’m religious,

Not because I believe in spirits,

Not because I love Spanish cuisine,

And not because I needed to be punished.

I just wanted a long walk.

—B.C. Tørrissen

This is one pilgrim’s reason to walk the Camino de Santiago. More than 100,000 people every year walk the International Heritage Trails. They come from all over the world, taking different routes to reach the same destination: the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia, Spain.

Why do so many people take a 500-mile trek across highways, mountains, valleys, cities, towns, and fields? Each pilgrim has a personal reason: to get away, to be a part of an ancient tradition, to make a change, weight loss, to renew faith, to connect to people.

Here, three pilgrims share their travel inspiration, their reasons for walking the Camino de Santiago.

Father Kenneth Allen: Inspired by Simplicity

Celebrating his 10-year anniversary of priesthood and the recovery of an injured knee, Father Kenneth Allen decided to embark on his Camino journey.

Since childhood, Father Allen, hoped to walk the Camino de Santiago to visit the shrine of the apostle St. James in the Cathedral.

Three pilgrims walking down a road along the Camino de Santiago, each showing a personal travel inspiration for making the journey. (Image © Eva Boynton)

A normal Camino day is 15–20 miles of walking from one town to another.
After losing his way Father Allen walked 30 on his first day.
© Eva Boynton

Among the pristine landscapes are challenges that tax the body and strain the mind. Father Allen’s first day consisted of getting lost, losing his walking partner, backtracking, and finally reaching his lodging in the dark.

It was cause enough for him to question the reason of his pilgrimage:

My feet were killing me. I had responsibilities at home, obligations to meet, people to support. . . . A good prayer room. A comfortable chair behind my desk. . . . A laptop and internet access. Why was I walking through Spain? And not only walking, but walking. And walking and walking.

Out of focus landscape seen through a fence post with clear spider web along the Camino de Santiago, a route undertaken by many with different kinds of travel inspiration. (Image © Eva Boynton)

When walking the Camino, life’s complications become blurry,
while simple details of the trail come into focus.
© Eva Boynton

As he neared his destination, charging past his initial struggles, Father Allen discovered his true inspiration for the journey. The absence of a convenient lifestyle caused him to find value in the simplicity of the path. He explains:

The Camino demands a sense of simplicity from you. You have to lighten your burden as you walk (literally by tossing things out, or mailing them ahead if you’re carrying too much) . . . There’s only one goal, which is to walk to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. Whatever distracts from that just falls by the wayside.

Yellow arrow made out of scallop shells mortared into the rock wall of a house along the Camino de Santiago, a route walked by many pilgrims with different travel inspiration. (Image © Jenna Tummonds)

There is one simple instruction for walking the Camino: follow the yellow arrows.
© Jenna Tummonds

The travel inspiration that Father Allen discovered while walking followed him home. The value of simplicity continues to affect how he approaches relationships and day-to-day life; slowing down to find the extraordinary within the ordinary.

Jenna Tummonds’ Inspiration? Time to Think

Although pilgrims often cross paths, Jenna Tummonds dedicated her time on the Camino to walking alone.

Pilgrim walking down a road through a town, showing travel inspiration of walking the Camino de Santiago. (image © Jenna Tummonds

A pilgrim can choose to meet people or take advantage of the quiet space of the long road.
© Jenna Tummonds

Prompted by the idea of ley lines in Shirley MacLaine’s El Camino, Jenna prepared for the long walk. Ley lines are lines of energy that allegedly connect geographic locations and structures across the earth, something like the straight lines drawn between constellations.

Some believe that several ley lines intersect along the Camino de Santiago and that their energy brings about clarity of thought. With that in mind, Jenna asked her question:

Why, as she was growing older, did she trust people less and less?

She feared that the inevitable consequence was a life of old age and bitterness. The Camino de Santiago gave her time to remove herself from a familiar world and and concentrate on personal growth.

A pilgrim following her travel inspiration on the Camino de Santiago stands alone in a field of sunflowers. (Image © Jenna Tummonds)

A pilgrimage is a long journey centered on a purpose.
The purpose can come in infinite forms.
© Jenna Tummonds

By making the effort to walk alone for parts of the journey, Jenna gained self-trust and self-reliance, resulting in her revelation:

I don’t need to trust anybody. I just have to trust myself.

Her reason for traveling the Camino was to spend time alone, and that travel inspiration led to a rejuvenated sense of self that prepared Jenna for her journey beyond the Camino.

My Inspiration: The Love of Spontaneity

I first learned of the pilgrimage while working in Switzerland. I loved the idea that what would happen on my days along the Camino were left up to chance. Two days later, I was on a train heading to Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port to start walking the Camino Francés.

Three female pilgrims with backpacks and walking sticks following their person al travel i inspiration to walk the Camino de Santiago. (Image © Jenna Tummonds)

Friendly faces along the way
© Jenna Tummonds

Every day was filled with chance encounters. When fellow pilgrims and I passed each other, we sometimes stopped to chat, and sometimes we walked together.

Pilgrims, staying in the same refugios (refuges designated for pilgrims), often met up for dinner and spontaneous conversation around a communal table that might connect ten pilgrims from six or more countries.

No phones. No exchange of contact information. But often bittersweet goodbyes—when we parted, everyone said, ¡Buen camino!,  and we meant it.

Sometimes we saw each other again along the way, and sometimes not. The fun of it was the idea of leaving it all up to chance.

My love of the unexpected, my appreciation for spontaneity had been reason enough to walk the Camino, and my travel inspiration was fulfilled along the Camino from beginning to end.

A group of pilgrims, whose travel inspiration took them down the Camino de Santiago for very different reasons, in front of the Cathedral at the end of the route. (Image © Jenna Tummonds)

Pilgrims reuniting at the finish line in front of the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela
© Jenna Tummonds

Oh, I See

Despite the many kinds of travel inspiration, our destination—the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela—was the same.  It was a celebration of our pilgrimage, whatever the route taken.

As Father Allen explains:

For all of us as pilgrims, we were formed by the journey as we sought the destination. 

You can always tell Camino pilgrims by the scallop shell hanging from their backpacks. Like the shell, the Camino de Santiago is shaped by a system of trails, taken by pilgrims with different kinds of  travel inspiration along different routes, but all converging at the same point.

A scallop shell, like the symbol for the Camino de Santiago, a route taken by pilgrims following their unique kinds of travel inspiration. (Image © )

Buen Camino!
© Eva Boynton

Thank you, Father Allen and Jenna, for sharing your stories. For planning your own route on the Camino de Santiago, visit Camino Ways.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

 

Adventure Travel/On Foot/Quotes of Note/Spain

Copyright © 2011-2026 OIC Books   |   All Rights Reserved   |   Privacy Policy