A Letter Addressed to You

Dear You, 
     I thought that I would write you a proper letter, since it will be a few weeks before I see you again. 
I am going to the rustic land of the rolling green hills and the cobblestone streets and the rain that escapes from the sky without warning. 
     This past week, more than anything--more than the stress I have felt over packing or the excitement I have felt over going abroad for the first time--I have felt grateful. 
     I am grateful for you, and for this adventure, and for all of the people who I have met through my past travels. They have become my best friends and my inspiration, my home that is not stationary. It is the most wonderful feeling, to have so many people who I love, spread all around the country. Someday soon, they will be spread all around the world. 
     I will be in Scotland from June 26th through July 26th, and I will have limited computer access, so I have scheduled some posts for the month while I'm gone. Keep checking back--I hope that you enjoy them!
     The good news is that, when I come back, I will have stories and adventures to share, both through pictures and words. I can't wait to share them with you. 
     Love, 
     Abby

A Little Gift

During my month in Scotland, I will live for one week with a host family in the city of Perth. The program that I am traveling with, The Experiment in International Living, works with a placement agency in Scotland to match all of the Experimenters with host families. Oftentimes, the placements are made right at the last minute. (For example, I leave in two days, and I still haven't found out who my host family is.)

This past week, I went shopping for a gift to bring to my host family. I wanted to find something that was representative of the unique spirit of New Mexico, without being overly touristy.

This is what I came up with...

I went to two little shops here in Santa Fe to find my host family gift. The first, Doodlet's, is a whimsical nicknack store in the downtown area. Wandering around inside of it, I can find something that reminds me of almost everyone I know. The second store, The Chile Shop, sells--you guessed it--authentic New Mexican chile! It also has cookbooks and beautiful aprons and the most wonderful hand-sewn table cloths and runners and napkins.

At Doodlet's, I found these Guatemalan worry dolls. When my grandmother moved to Santa Fe, years before we moved here, these were the gift that she gave to my sister and me the first time that we visited. The story behind them is that, before you go to bed, you tell a worry to each of the dolls. Then you place them beneath of your pillow. They will take away your worries while you sleep.

This Pinon-scented incense is made right here in New Mexico, and it smells just like the forest, so authentic and woody and natural. I love it. 

Without a doubt, my favorite find are these table napkins from The Chile Shop. They are just so beautiful. I could stare at them all day.

I am excited to meet my host family and live with them for a week. I am looking forward to the evening conversations, to running around in the backyard with the children, to the shared breakfasts, to the chance to learn about their dreams and their hopes and their day-to-day life. These strangers in another country, these people who will hopefully become a second family to me, are giving me the most amazing gift: they are welcoming me into their home. I hope that they will enjoy this little glimpse into my home.

To Be Loved

I recently read Frankenstein for the first time, and I loved it in a way that I have loved very few books. There are so many scenes that affected me deeply. The following is one of my favorites. It is told from the creature's perspective and takes place while he is living in a hovel outside of a little cottage where a family lives. A small hole in the wall of his hovel provides a window into the cottage, and he spends his days watching the cottagers go about there lives. It is here that he receives his first glimpses of love and learns about the concept of family.

"The young girl was occupied in arranging the cottage, but presently she took something out of a drawer, which employed her hands, and she sat down beside the old man, who, taking up an instrument, began to play, and to produce sounds sweeter than the voice of the thrush or the nightingale. It was a lovely sight, even to me, poor wretch! who had never beheld aught beautiful before. The silver hair and benevolent countenance of the aged cottager won my reverence, while the gentle manners of the girl enticed my love. He played a sweet mournful air, which I perceived drew tears from the eyes of his amiable companion, of which the old man took no notice, until she sobbed audibly; he then pronounced a few sounds, and the fair creature, leaving her work, knelt at his feet. He raised her, and smiled with such kindness and affection that I felt sensations of a peculiar and overpowering nature: they were a mixture of pain and pleasure, such as I had never before experienced, either from hunger or cold, warmth or food; and I withdrew from the window, unable to bear those emotions."

(Image via The Bean and the Bear.)

The Journey

The Journey 

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.


-Mary Oliver




(Image via The Stylish Wanderer.)

In Preparation

Today, my mom and I went to The Running Hub here in Santa Fe to buy some trail shoes. All of my tennis shoes are worn to the bone (my last pair of Asics breathed its final breath on my school's camping trip in the fall, where it was rained on, muddied, and eaten by stickers. It was more than the elderly shoes could take).

We were actually in and out of The Running Hub in less than fifteen minutes, which is miraculous for me. I am the most indecisive shoe-shopper in the world. I go through a process of contemplation, deliberation, excessive walking, toe wriggling, shoe exchanging, pros and cons weighing...

But I knew from the moment I tried these Gel Scouts on that they were the ones. They had the same welcoming embrace of my last two pairs of Asics. It was that wonderful, all-consuming familiarity of hugging an old friend after a long time away from each other.

The only downside is that these shoes aren't waterproof. I am going to spray them with a waterproofer to see if I can at least make them a little bit water resistant. If not, I can bear damp feet in the name of taking a journey with these lovelies on my feet.

Here is a little glimpse into my packing for Scotland: my brand spanking new Bathing Beauty One Piece in Green Gingham from Modcloth, and my cozy Fisherman's Pullover from American Apparel. I am running behind on the preparation front. My room is a mess, and--in the spirit of full disclosure--I actually had to make my bed in order to take these pictures. The rest of my room is too messy to serve as a background.

I'm off to do some room cleaning and laundry. I'll be back tomorrow.

Love,

Abby

When We Escape...

"[W]hen we escape like the squirrels in the cage of our personality and get into the forest again, we shall shiver with cold and fright. But things will happen to us so that we don’t know ourselves. Cool, unlying life will rush in.” – D. H. Lawrence

(Image here.)

Wandering Wednesdays: Travel Notes

Last year while at boarding school, a few things happened. The first is that I became a tea drinker. I had always liked tea before, but the readily-accessible hot water in the cafeteria and the swirling mist that cloaked the mountain combined to make me someone who craved a warm cup of Chai or Green or Earl Grey a few times a day.

The second thing that happened was this: I became lonely. I became beaten down and tired and sad and exhausted and hopeless. So when I bought my first box of Yogi tea and realized that each of the bags had little quotes attached to them, I began to look forward to them. They were bright flashes of inspiration, of hope, and I would carry the ones I liked around with me all day.

The third thing that happened because of boarding school was that I began traveling a lot. I had three breaks during the year, and between flying home at the beginning of each break and returning to school at the end, I felt like I was in the airport a lot. A few days before one of my flights home, I made myself a cup of Yogi tea and really loved the quote attached to the tea bag: "There are three values: Feel good, be good and do good."

I think that what struck me about it was the simplicity. There is something so beautiful about the idea of being good. Being worthy. A person who makes other people's lives better. This idea--so simple, so fundamental--is surprisingly easy to forget in our modern world. We place emphasis on other values. I don't think that I need to list them off, but I will anyway. Money. Success. Talents. Possessions. Reputation.

So I liked the idea of there being only three values. Feel good. Be good. Do good.

A few days later, sitting on a flight bound for New Mexico, I had an idea. Why not share this quote that I loved with other people?

I took a piece of paper from my notebook and copied the quote onto it. Then I folded it and put it into the seat pocket in front of me, in the hopes that another traveler would find it and be inspired by it, if only for a moment.

Since then, I have heard of other people doing this: leaving postcards with messages on them in public places, folding notes inside of books before they return them to the library, placing their favorite magazine on a bus seat so that someone else will find it.

I think that there's something lovely and mysterious about this. I will never know if someone found that first note, or any of the notes that I have left afterwards. And if someone did, that person will never know who left the note. They will only know that someone wanted them to find it.

I think that's kind of beautiful.

Before I leave for Scotland, I plan to write out a few notes to leave on the plane and in buses or restrooms or wherever else some traveler might find them.

What about you-- Have you ever left a travel note before? If you haven't, what would yours say?

(Image one here--another of my favorite Yogi tea bag quotes. Image two here.)