Now that I’m approaching the end if my trip, I’d like write some love and hate letters to various things I have either brought or encountered on my trip.

Dear Keens,
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love how you didn’t need any breaking in, as I bought you just before i left. I love your Gore-tex outer shell that allows me to stomp thru mud and puddles with ease! My feet love you, and that, my dear Keens, is the greatest love of all.

From the bottom of my heart, and my body,
Jenny

Dear Brown Corduroy Pants,
Ah, how I have worn thee! I was afraid I was treating you poorly, as I didn’t wash you for over 2 weeks. But when I asked other travelers how often they washed their pants, they said 2 weeks was nothing!

Until the day you fall apart,
Jenny

Dear Processed, White-Flour Foods,
We got along okay at the beginning of our relationship. But I’ve only really been with you because you are cheap and easy, and I don’t have many other options. But you don’t make me feel good about myself as I haven’t lost any weight since traveling because of you. In fact, I’ve gained a few pounds. Do you not want me to be skinny so I can find a husband? Do you not want me to be happy?

I can’t be with you anymore except for the occasional one-night stand. We’ll then make love until the sun comes up.

Until I feel skinny and can binge on cookies,
Jenny

Dear Ibuprofen,
You have really come through for me. You’ve helped me thru the hard times when my body hurt day after day from walking/hiking/biking. You do not restrain your love to me, as I can buy you in prescrition strength (800 mg!) over the counter.

Thanks for always being there,
Jenny

Dear Canon Rebel XSI,
I hate you. I really do. It was never going to work between us, so I don’t even know why I tried. Well, I actually do know why. I was using you to impress a cute guy who was into photography. But I never carry big cameras on trips. Heck, I never even carry a small camera on my trips. I should have stayed true to myself and saved myself from back and neck aches.

Maybe in another life,
Jenny

Dear iPhone,
I’m expressing my greatest love for last, and that is you, my sweet iPhone. How you have saved me from boredom on long bus rides. How your sweet music rises above the sound of a pesty snorer and serenades me to peaceful slumber. How you’ve given me instant information on weather, exchange rates, and a yoga routine (which I never did, but you had it there for me nonetheless). Your WiFi abilities have saved me from slow, 10-year old public computers with keyboards so sticky you have to attack them to type anything. You are my everything.

Love,
Jenny

Like I’ve said a gazillion times, you meet tons of travelers–alone or in small groups of 2 or 3–when you do this sort of travel, and it’s very common to team up with other those going your same way.

But companions–whether permanent or temporary–add a new dynamic to your travels, which can either greatly enhance or hamper your trip.

Some people prefer to travel alone to avoid this dynamic, but for me, I like to find a balance.

Meeting people was a HUGE part of this trip. I enjoy getting to know new, interesting people, and most people are interesting enough for the first day or so. But if someone is around for 4 or 5 days (or more!), I get a little burned out.

First, you get bored. Unless you’re lucky and totally click with someone, I find that you run out of things to talk about, and I find myself sitting more and more in silence poking at my food. Im comfortable with silence, but then I worry if they’re uncomfortable with the silence and that makes me uncomfortable.

That leads me to explain my second problem: I like to be agreeable, or in other words, I like to be a people pleaser. But this often leads to me compromising something I want to do or somewhere I want to go. For example, someone may want to go to dinner somewhere a little more expensive then I’d like, but they really want to go, and they didnt express much interest in where I wanted to go. So to be “agreeable” and avoid conflict, i conceede, and then I’m agitated after paying too much for a bad meal.

Third, they defeat the purpose of why I’m traveling alone. Sometimes they become a crutch, and I rely on them for navigation and transportation. But this agitates the Red part of my personality (see post True Colors) as I’m not doing what I’m here to do: get around on my own. This is my trip–”my” as in everything for, by, and of me. Other times they feel like a ball and chain and I feel they are looking at me to entertain them.

For me, traveling companions haven’t been that bad. I’ve really enjoyed the majority that I’ve met. Im dependent on them in so many ways to make the most of this trip. First, they make things safer in certain areas of the city. They also can offer good suggestions and recomendations on hostels and transportation. They also can double check your actions; I even had one catch me from overpaying a bill when I had a brain fart doing the math.

But some have stuck around past their expiration date, and I’ve had to deal with that.

So my conclusion? Companions should be part of the supporting cast and not earn a starring role. I think 2 days is enough. I can ask enough questions to make someone interesting for 2 days but I’ve learned I shouldn’t push my luck too much more after that.

It’s like that Seinfeld episode when George discovers if he tells a funny joke but sticks around to tell more, people don’t find him as funny. But of he leaves right after of the punch line his first joke while everyone is still laughing, everyone remembers him as being hilarious.

So I guess another thing I’m learning on this trip is how to enjoy the good company of others, for which i am grateful. I’m more that happy to compromise or go with the flow of their program to avoid being alone. But im also learning to move on before the laughs are over.

I can say I’ve hitchhiked thru South American, motorcycled thru South America, and now I can say I’ve been robbed in South America.

Yup. After 28 days in South America, they got me.

Dont worry. It was nothing serious. It kind of made me laugh. I was traveling a neighborhood about one hour outside the main city to visit my Dad’s old partner who is now serving as a mission president for the LDS church.

As I was once again going to face my fear of foreign public transportation, I decided to take the train over a taxi. I had a bag of coins, which probably equaled $3 US dollars, that I took with me to pay for the train ticket. For easy access, I thru the bad into the side pouch of my backpack (where water bottles go) instead of zipped upinside. Well, it was easy access for someone else.

When I go to buy a packet of Kleenix from a vendor on the train, I reach for the small bag to pay for it, and it was gone! I looked everywhere but couldn’t find it. I laughed and thought, “those bastards got me.”

I have tried my best to be super duper careful on this trip. I keep my money in a travel wallet zipped underneath my jacket–always against my body. I’ve opted to not carried my camera in most of Buenos Aires. I always try to stay in public, busy areas–especially at night. I walk thru the city determined and fast with a scowl on my face. I make an effort to look over my shoulder often to know my surroundings. I give the stink eye to everyone I see on the subway.

And so far this has worked. I haven’t had any problems with anyone bothering me. But what was I thinking to put a bag of coins in the side pouch of my backpack! It was my fault it was taken, and I realize you can’t let up for one minute. They will be right there waiting when you do.

Remember how I said I wanted to ride a motorcycle thru South America? Well, today I did. Sort of.

I decided to pay an expensive boat ride to spend a day in Uruguay for a couple of reasons:

1) I wanted Uruguay stamped in my passport.
2) I had been in BA for 5 days and my head was about to explode.

So I woke up at 6 am to catch a morning boat ride to Colonia de Sacramento, a historic town about an hour away directly across the Rio de la Plata from BA.

The town was settled in 1500-something, and for centuries was handed back and forth between the Spanish and Portugese. It looked just a small town in Spain. It was nice.

But the highlight was when I decided to rent a scooter and ride thru the countryside. Its not a motorcycle, but it will have to do. The lady renting the scooters asked if I wanted a helmet. I originally said no because I wanted to be like all the other motorcycle riders riding around without helmets. But then I thought how bad it would be if I ended up in a South American hospital with a head injury. I opted for the cool topper with my scarf and aviator sunglasses.

I dragged the boardwalk, cruising by deserted bull rings and old Spanish mission homes. It was about 60 degrees and sunny. I practically felt like I was cruising the Santa Monica Boulevard, until I looked to my left and saw brown water. Yup, I’m in South America.

Im so tired that i havent been able to muster much energy to write. I’ve been here in Buenos Aires (BA) for about 3 days now, and all I have to say is that this place is crazy.

The city is huge, and its size and “foreign-ness” makes me feel a little homesick. I never felt homesick in Patagonia, but here, for some reason, I do.

Maybe it’s because i really stick out. I bought some jeans and a new shirt knowing my dirty brown cords and Northface jacket were screaming tourist. But the effort was in vain. With my looks and coloring there is no way I can fit in.

In addition, I am still handicapped when it comes to the city bus system. Considering the fact I struggled with simpler bus systems in smaller cities, a city that boasts over 10 million residents scares me too death. I’m great with subways, but BA’s metro is unfortunately not that extensive.

Nevertheless!, I’m doing my best to experience the city.

My first night here I went out with some Israelis I met in Bariloche. We went to, from what I was told, a super trendy club right downtown in Puert Madero district. I was forced to wait patiently in the lobby of a smokey hostel until 1:30. There was no way we were leaving before then. At 2:00 in the morning, I was waiting in a line 100 people long. Inside the music was that hypnotic techno beat. I hate hypnotic techno beat. It’s at moments like these that I wish I sometimes drank. There wasnt much to do besides drinking and dancing, so I opted for the latter. I was going to show those those Latinos how we move in America.

To make a long story short, I danced for 4 straight hours. I dont know how i looked, but i felt good. That’s all that really matters when you’re dancing, right?

The next night I went to a soccer game. Everything you here about Argentinian soccer are true. I saw riot police break up fights between the home and opposing team fans, I saw people pissing against the wall in the stadium, and I learned quite a few new swear words in Spanish.

We originally choose our seats away from the rucus of crazy fans, but as the game went on, the seats around us slowly filled with more ardent fans until I found myself in a swarm of shirtless Argentinians jumping up and down singing the same song over and over. At that moment I regretted wearing my flip flops, for I was afraid they wouldn’t be very practical in case I had to run for some reason. I didn’t like the fact that no one else was wearing sandals around me.

The funny thing was is that it was just a regular season game that didn’t mean anything.

Monday and Tuesday I explored various neighborhoods in the city.

More on my time here in Buenos Aires to come on datejenny.com…

As I’ve mentioned before, I knew solitude was going to be a big part of this trip. And i knew the i would meet would be as well, but I didn’t realize how much.

The people have been everything. All the things I’ve seen and done don’t compare to the associations I’ve had with people from all over the world.

Im naturally a loner (and i say that without its negative connotation). But spending so much time alone in a foreign place has made me be uncharacteristically super friendly and to seek after the company of others. It’s like someone, on the brink of starvation, starts to open up his mind to eating, say, gopher intestines or live larvae.

But the people I’m meeting are nothing like gopher guts. Well, maybe some. Most are quite pleasant, some a little boring, and special few who are hilarious.

I have, however, met very few Americans in my travels, which I find weird. But it’s okay. I’m sick of you guys at home; that’s why I came here.

Below are just a few of my experiences with the people I’ve met on the first half of my trip.

- I explained what the term “chick flick” meant to two 26-year-old German guys who also knew all the words to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.

-I went to a casino with 3 Israelis who just finished the army and knew who knew all the stats on the Utah Jazz. They love D Williams.

- I celebrated Anzac Day with a girl from New Zealand. Sounds like a drug, but it’s a memorial day for ww2.

- I ate indigenous Calafate berries with an Argentinian who let me call him Tupac after he started dancing hip hop after I told him I was from the U.S. He then went on to call me 50 Cent. I couldn’t let him know thar I’m really not that into rap.

- I went hiking in Bariloche with a girl from Hungary who is currently studying in Buenos Aires. She told me all the Dos and Don’ts for the city, such as you can walk down this street but not the one next to it because that is where they kidnap blonde Americans in dirty clothes, klunky hiking boots, and with too-expensive cameras. To ensure my safety, Judit will be accompanying me to my first South American soccer game this Sunday. We’re in the general section. It’s going to be awesome.

As i’ve mentioned earlier, this last week I have been traveling with a French man named Clement. We’ve since parted ways, but He just might be my favorite. He said something once (which I can’t remember now) that was a little too personal and I said, “Oh, TMI!” I then explained this a popular acronymn in the U.S. (it may not be popular with some, but I still use it.) that meant Too Much Information (if you didn’t know). Anyway, later, when he wanted to tell me something, he said “do you want a TMI?” It made me laughed really hard.

Just yesterday I went sledding with some Argentine brothers from Cordoba. The younger speaks really good English, all from watching many movies and listening a lot of music.

The older doesn’t speak English much at all. Nevertheless, he would still quote movie lines all the time. When we went sledding earlier, he shouted, “Un Wallace por la mujer!” which means “One Wallace for the girl!” He then had to explained that he meant William Wallace, and that she had scored points on fierceness for her sled ride down the mountain. (In a sidenote, they both have the most beautiful brown eyes I’ve ever seen. It’s a warm brown, almost like the bark from a Redwood tree.)

I’m off to Buenos Aires today. I actually plan to meet up with a lot of the people I’ve crossed paths with in my first two weeks, so I’m not sure how much I have to be, well, super friendly. I’m kind of hoping I have to be.

Every so often I forget why I dislike something, and I think to myself, “why don’t do this? Other people enjoy it, so shouldn’t I?”

Classical music concerts are exactly this to me.

There is an international classical music festival here in Ushuaia right now. It seems like a pretty big deal, so I thought maybe I should check it out.

But it’s that idea of “I should” made me waste my money. For example, shouldn’t I want to pursue once-in-a-lifetime opportunities such as listening to the Moscow Symphony Orchestra in the city at the end of the world? Shouldn’t I want to better myself with the musical genius of Bach, Rachmoninof (spellcheck) and Chopin?

No, I shouldn’t. Whenever I go to the symphony I regret it. But it has been a few years since the last time I did. It was actually a first date - a blind date in fact - at Abravenal Hall. When he first asked me if I like that stuff - going to see the symphony and such -  of course I said “sure!”

I like that stuff, right? Who doesn’t WANT to like to do that stuff? Again, shouldn´t we all want to be smarter and more sophisticated than we really are.

Although I WANT to like going to the symphony, the sad truth is I hate it.

I learned that in my date two years ago and I was reminded of it again last night.

I’m current traveling with a French guy named Clement (pronounced Clay-Mo). He seemed game to attend a concert, so we bought (somewhat expensive) tickets (at least on a traveler’s budget) the first day we arrived. (Mind you, it was dumping snow at the time, and any indoor activity sounded particularly appealing.)

So last night, Thursday, we went. But I knew the moment I sat in my seat about ten minutes to 9 that this was a bad idea–a very bad idea.

I had been trekking for the past days in cold and snow, and my body was exhausted. And throw in a big plate of meat and carbs for dinner an hour earlier, I was doomed for a case of some serious Food Coma.

I complained to Clement why don’t they have a concessions stand. I could have seriously used some Skittles or peanut M&Ms to stay awake. But he responded in a quintessential French accent how Americans are so uncivilized and you don’t eat Skittles at the symphony.

“Don’t you know anyzthing about ze etiquette at ze zsymphony?” (all Zs are intentional)

“is etiquette a French word?”

“&@$;):*#%”

I probably wasn’t helping my country’s PR at the moment. But how could anyone sit up straight during this stuff for two and a half hours? I looked around the same hotel salon that was turned into an improv concert hall, all I saw were bunch of Argentine couples, not one under the ages if 50, sitting perfectly straight in their chairs with all eyes ahead. I desperately wanted to find someone with his/her face resting forward in his/her hands but my misery was not shared.

And then it came. An overwhelming heaviness of sleep that fell on my head that, no matter how bad I wanted to stay awake, knocked me out for the rest of the concert.

I laid my head on Clement’s shoulder and apologized. I couldn’t help it. Maybe if they were playing the Star Wars theme I could stay awake.

He, with his French etiquette, was sympathetic and let me sleep.

Okay. I was in the shower thinking about my last post, and I don’t want it to sound over dramatic in any way. I’m really having a great time trekking glaciers, riding boats, etc. In between all those other character-testing moments. Here’s a recap of the first half of my trip:

Bariloche - Loved it. Being a ski town, it felt a lot like Park City in some ways. I could live there. Maybe I should for a season, or at least visit for a couple weeks in the winter.

El Calafate - Straight down the Andes is Calafate. It’s the headquarters to Argentine Patagonia. The town is nothing special, similar to an ugly grey town you’d find in Alaska that’s surrounded by beautiful mountains. Here I went into Argentina’s glacier national park where I slapped on some crampons and trekked around the glacier.

El Chalten - About 3.5 hours north of El Calafate in a different part of the national park. This has been probably my favorite place this far. The town has only 600 habitants and is only 24 years old. The scenery kind of reminds me of Grand Teton National Park in WY (and i mean kind of) but about ten times prettier.

Ushuaia - the end of the world (do you notice how i keep saying that? Think about it! How cool is it thatg I’m at the end of the world.) This city reminds of Seattle. Water, boats, small surrounding mountains, even a ski resort. Rainy weather. Boats, bays, seafood. I’ve been unlucky with the weather as it has snowed everyday. But I came prepared for bad weather, and I’ve been pretty comfortable in the conditions. I’ve taken a boat ride out into the Beagle Channel as well as trekked thru Tierra del Fuego National Park in snow and mud. It was eerily beautiful, and I felt I was in the middle of a Robert Frost poem. Weird birds are everywhere, and I can see why Chsrles Darwin had a heyday when he came thru on the Beagle ship in 1832.

For those you wondering about my update on Torres Del Paine (the famous national park in Chile), I’ve decided not to go. I hear the park is absolutely amazing, but the weather is changing to winter fast and a lot of services in the park is shutting down. I could still camp my way thru the park, but considering the fact that I can count the times I’ve camped on one hand, I wasn’t up for renting camping gear and taking on the park on my own. Go read Jack London’s short story “How to Start a Fire” and you’d understand.

And last of all, the biggest highlights have been the people I’ve meet, but I’m going to talk about that in another post.

And datejenny.com is back…live from South America…

Before embarking on my journey, many people sent me off with well wishes such as “you’re going to have a blast!” or “have SO much fun!” I would politely reply thanks, but my intention for the trip wasn’t really to have fun. (I know no one in my family thought it sounded like a fun idea.) Of course, I hoped I would have fun, but more importantly i was just hoping I could do it.

I did the whole backpacking/hostel thru Europe about 9 years ago as a freshman in college. I met up with 3 friends in Switzerland, and we crisscrossed the continent having a blast. But Europe–it’s like Disneyland. If you want to go to FranceLand, GermanyLand, ItalyLand, you just hope on a train and it practically drops you off in front of Notre Dame with a colorful map with buildings that look like cartoon balloons. I also had the safety net of 3 other people to help make decisions and doublecheck the itinerary/maps/directions/bus schedules or whatever.

But this trip is different. I’m on old creaky buses rather than modern trains. Im trying to navigate vast amounts of terrain in a place notorious for wind, rain, and snow. I’m staying at hostels with grungy bathrooms and sleeping next to strangers who snore. I’m faced with many moments of extensuve walking, waiting, thinking, finding my happy place.

In short, this trip in many ways has been a trip of endurance. I’m exhausted. But the weird thing is, I don’t really want to stop. I wouldn’t really say I’m having so much fun. Fun to me is riding a roller coaster. I just feel more…(and this sounds cheesy)…alive.

For the last few years I’ve been working and trying to do (for the most part) what I’m suppose to do–work, date, go to church–and things were in a rhythm, life felt a little desensitized, and I was starting to feel bored. A trip to Hawaii did not sound like it would wake me up. This kind of trip did.

Here, I feel like my wits have to be in full force. I have to think one step ahead–to know where I am, where I’m going, where my bus ticket is so I don’t lose it.

I have the challenge to force myself to chill, pass large amounts of time in uncomfortable situations, and find ways to entertain myself for hours.

And the weather! This last week I feel like I’ve been playing chicken with the forecast, and I haven’t been winning. (I am in Ushuaia, the southern most city in Argentina (and the world) where it has been dumping snow.) Nevertheless, I have to tell myself that I can’t control the weather, I’m here now, and I better make the most of it.

But in between all these uncomfortable, uncertain, and lonely situations, I have had a blast doing new things, seeing new things, and meeting new people. After reviewing my last few blog posts, I noticed that it might appear I’m having a bad time. Not at all. Well, that bus ride wasn’t a fun time at all. No, that sucked. But i found the irony of the cloud in front of Cerro Torre to be more humourous than anything else.

In summary, it’s important to remember that I really had no clue what to expect when I hopped on a plane with a plan to travel Southern Chile and Argentina. And because of my ignoranc the trip isn’t perfect, and not every moment is “a blast” or “so much fun.” but I’m doing my best, and that in itself is the most rewarding.

In other words, it will be a success if I don’t get my camera stolen, improve my Spanish some, and…to prove my family wrong…don’t change my return flight and come home early.

P.S. Please note that my one-month expedition is peanuts compared to some of the other travelers I’m meeting who are on 3, 6, 12-month expeditions throughout South America and around the world. Peanuts!

Have Internet problems. Testing to seeif I can post.