APR-C-4
The note sent by a fellow traveler on the Antarctic “cruise” on the Orlova, who then had traveled on around South America, reporting on scenes she saw and referring to friends’ pictures showing the same islands—and perhaps the same seals and penguins I had seen and photographed around the marathon
From: "Anne Braun" <anne_braun@hotmail.com>
To: <sburgmay@brynmawr.edu>, <acampbel@brynmawr.edu>, <ebehrend@hotmail.com>, <elvarley@hotmail.com>, <eklarson@haverford.edu>, <cbower2@msn.com>, <mntomasko@worldnet.att.net>, <yasmgal@hotmail.com>, <mboydell@yahoo.com>, <glencraven@hotmail.com>, <feding@hotmail.com>, <riepyvette@hotmail.com>, <trishbone@yahoo.com>, <jujab@hotmail.com>, <matsong@yahoo.com>, <wenborntravel@hotmail.com>, <wtfo@beer.com>, <saiph44_19@hotmail.com>, <angela@studentsonice.com>, <susannahmerritt@hotmail.com>, <jeff_minthorn@hotmail.com>, <zodiakkid@hotmail.com>, <ianshaw@passport.ca>, <ianmichaelshaw@yahoo.com>, <faro@copetel.com.ar>, <msdgwg@gwumc.edu>, <irste@hotmail.com>, <rmc@smru.st‑and.ac.uk>, <seatosky70@hotmail.com>, <pippahett@hotmail.com>, <markgarrett@sprintmail.com>, <marc@runningtimes.com>, <stevechef@hotmail.com>, <jaykearsey@hotmail.com>, <gummo70@hotmail.com>, <albe@gmx.li>, <catemai@tin.lt>, <bikesail@yahoo.com>, <loreto2001@yahoo.com>
Date: 4/18/01 10:26PM
Subject: hello again
Hello again.
Almost three months since I have written! I was realizing it was about time
to write as I was getting e‑mails from people wondering if I was in
Antarctica, Africa, home and everywhere in‑between. I hadn’t even hit half
way the last time I wrote and now I just rounded two‑thirds. Time is flying
by! I have even started to work on plans for when I get back. Ahh, not yet!
Too much to still see and do.
Well, here I am, 12,000 feet sipping mate with a Bolivian version of Hotel
California on the radio in the capital city of La Paz. Bolivia, I know, my
project was Nepal, Antarctica and Botswana. Well, I got a little side
tracked in the process and am here for just over a month to work with an
amazing organization called Eco Bolivia and then go climbing with some NOLS
folk for 3 weeks. Funny how you can get side tracked to a whole other
country for a month. That is the great thing about this year. La Paz is
also spectacular! I think if I were to have to pick a favorite city I have
ever been, this is it. The people, the colors, the cool crisp fall weather,
the huge hills that leave you instantly winded. A great place.
When I think back to the last three month, it is like trying to summarize
life. At start of this trip, I was so overwhelmed by everything, I felt
this huge urge to share every detail. Now it feels more like regular life
and it all is starting to blend together. I was telling a friend, it has
been 8 months and I feel like I am finally getting over culture shock. I
wonder how long it will take me to readjust. The great thing is I feel like
I have really settled into moving and all the struggles of the start are
beginning to pay off.
As most of you know, the last time I wrote I was just completing my first
voyage as staff down in Antarctica with two more to go. Talk about complete
opposites, one was to run a marathon and the other was an ElderHostel group.
I finished up there around the end of February and with about 30 hours on
the bus, and three international boarder crossings, I made it up to Coy.
Chile. The place looks like the Garden of Eden and was a wonderful change
of pace. I was there for almost a week to get ready for a climbing trip in
southern Patagonia with 3 other instructors from NOLS, type up data from
Antarctica and use the staff library for my project.
Early March found us on San Lorenezo, the second highest mountain in
Patagonia, practicing the typical Patagonia climbing of waiting for good
weather, playing truco and drinking mate. Well, while weather, timing and
route finding didn’t all quite coincide like we might have hoped for a
successful summit bid, we had a tremendous time. It was also a great chance
to see more rural Patagonia and compare it to Nepal.
Another week or so cleaning stuff up, and enjoying Santiago as a group,
along with a good friend from school, Becca Olson as she happened to be in
the area and then just a few days with Becca seeing the sights. At that
point it was time to start to make my way north to Bolivia. I wanted to
travel overland however to see the famous northern Chile including the
Atacama desert. Talk about open spaces and the impact of remote tourism.
It was fascinating. I week on my own, and then a fabulous week with Becca
which involved four‑wheeling in a small rental car, nights by pink
flamingos, high altiplano pueblos and lots of time to talk.
As she caught a bus to Argentina to meet up with some family, I caught a
train to Uyuni Bolivia where I was hoping to immediately get another train
to La Paz. Easter weekend, bad rains, and a gas shortage kept me in Uyuni
for almost a week longer than I was expecting. However, a night bus finally
delivered me to this high‑enchanted city to finish up my last little bit of
time in South America and expose me to a whole new and wonderful cultural.
I am in town for the next week or so, sorting slides from a national
Geographic photographer of Madidi National Park in exchange for information
about the organization, seeing the city and getting ready to go climbing.
On the 24th of April, I leave with 14 other NOLS instructors for a training
seminar, (officially described as a vacation from my Watson project, incase
you were wondering how it fit into the whole picture). We will be back
around May 17th, then hopefully a short trip to see Madidi for my self and a
flight to South Africa to start the last leg of my trip.
I am working on figuring out the final dates of when I will be back in the
states, but it looks like somewhere near Aug 10th. The Watson conference is
at Bryn Mawr this year (so all you Mawters better be around!) from Aug 16th‑
Aug 19th. I am still working on the details after that, but I am hoping to
spend some time around the East Coast visiting folk and schools before a
road trip back home. If you are anywhere between the Atlantic Ocean and
Denver and would like a visitor, drop me a line of where you might be in
late August, early September. It would be great to catch up!
I know this is a supper uncreative e‑mail, but they are always so long and I
just wanted to say hi and let you all know where I am. If you have time and
interest, I am going to put some favorite mental pictures from the past
three months at the end. Also, if you want to see some real pictures from
the year, Jarad, a friend from Tibet has some great shots of our trip at
www.letsclimb.com/tibet. A delightful couple, Jim and Mary, from the
ElderHostel group in Antarctic have a web page which includes a good
overview of their (and therefore mine as well) trip to Antarctica. It can
be found at www.travelswithjimandmary.com, just click on the Antarctica
section. There is also another humorous one with lots of details from the
same trip at
http://www.anderson.ucla.edu/faculty/jason.frand/person/travel/antarctica/.
I have just been sending my pictures home, so I don’t have any of my own
yet. Sorry.
As always, it is great hearing from you all. I have loved the letters, the
random, wonderful e‑mails and the short updates on what is happening in your
worlds. It is amazing to me how much can happen in a year when I hear all
the details. For those of you back in the states, enjoy spring and summer.
I can’t wait to see the new additions to the family (welcome Lena!), meet
the new significant others, and hear all the details about life. Best of
luck with jobs, school and life. I am constantly thinking of you all. For
those of you who I have meet traveling, I hope your journeys have been full
of magic and wonder. Thank you for blessing mine and I hope our paths cross
again some day. As always, e‑mail is the best way to reach me (and if you
want me to take you off the list, just drop me a line!) Just in case you
have any goodies that are looking for a snail mail address, the best bet is
my parents at this point, as my sister is probably going to visit me in
Africa and a dear friend definitely is (yeah!). They can bring stuff to me,
because as of now, I have no idea where I will be at things there have been
in constant flux. Their address is:
9195 E. Evans Pl.
Denver, CO 80231 USA
You can also try general post in Johannesburg, as I will be going through
there a few times and will check it.
Take care and keep in touch.
Always,
Anne
A few mental pictures (thanks to Jo who taught me to use that camera)
Antarctica, wow, that was a long time ago, here it goes...
‑Waking up on the fifth straight day of being on the boat in somewhat rough
seas as we ran the ship in circles, hoping for good enough weather to land a
‑set up crew‑ for the marathon, and being convinced that the whole thing
truly was a crazy idea (something the participants also loved to point out).
‑Sitting down with the staff talking about the fact there was no more pasta
and no more oatmeal, because of 3 days the runners, crabo loaded and then
the run was cancelled due to weather, yet the marathon had not happened.
‑Standing around the barometer that had continued to plummet and the most up
to date weather predictions with the expedition leader, the organizer of the
marathon and other staff on the bridge of the ship and coming up with the
decision, that despite the best of intentions, there was no way the
participants were going to be able to run on the land and we would just have
to make something happen on the boat.
‑Calculating that 324 times around the lower deck and 422 times around the
upper deck was equal to 22.6 miles!
‑Padding the whole lower deck with life jackets and duck tape to prevent
injury as the half marathoners ran in loops around the lower deck and were
either being pitched around due to rough seas or elbowed out of the way by
the fiercely competitive of the bunch.
‑Two brave souls who decided to run their own marathon throughout the night
as killer whales and calving glaciers blessed their journey.
‑Walking up at 5 am to such a spectacular sunrise I had my whole body
outside the porthole of my room to see it as the marathon group was blessed
with their only great day of weather.
‑Driving the zodiac in a bay surrounded by plummeting glaciers, haled out
crab seals and flocks of pintado birds, just able to see the ship in the
distance and the rest of the bunch running in circles on the upper deck,
knowing they truly were crazy.
‑Snowboarding (thanks to Javiar, the colorful Argentinean cook’s loan of his
board) down the end of a glacier (well trying to) in hip waiters.
‑Sledding in huge orange survival suits with my fantastic roommate,
Patricia, down a snowfield as seals and penguins curiously watched.
‑ My first lecture with the ElderHostel group where the question period was
a long as the lecture and I knew I was in for a terrific challenge.
‑Being woken up one night by my roomette to look out our porthole at the
shimmering full moon and is amazing reflection across the oddly calm drake
passage.
‑Sipping yerba mate as Javiar acted out in Spanish the flight of the
Albatross in my room to entrain me as the ship rocked and rolled trough
another passage as my roommate and the head zodiac driver looked on in
amazement.
‑Falling asleep on a little rocky beach and waking up with a Weddell seal no
more than 5 feet away staring at me curiously.
‑Walking around in a tee shirt and hip wader on a spectacular strip snow as
my eyes welled up with tears knowing this was one of my last landings.
‑ Sitting on the very tip of the bow of the ship wind in on my face, dressed
in every layer I had, hot drink in hand for at least 2 hours as our ship
made a special little tour of Paradise bay beneath a baffling glorious
evening sky, with whales in the distance, listening to Macy Gray, Try to
walk away and I stumble, wondering how I was going to leave this place, how
privileged I felt to have seen it and trying to figure out how quickly I
could get back.
‑Saying one last good by to the staff, inspired by their drive to preserve
and educate, curious on how I was going to deal with having space to walk
around and not being sick 3 out of every nine days and committed to always
being involved somehow in the Great White South.
San Lorenzo....
‑Middle of my 22 hour bus ride through Argentinean Patagonia at a little
truck stop with a strong wind from the west and nothing but flat land as far
as the eye can see realizing I was exactly half way through my journey.
‑Baking bread in the NOLS compo as I reveled in the joy of having a kitchen,
a sort of home and being surrounded my amazing friends who knew me before
this whole adventure began.
‑Falling asleep, completely content in the attic of a Lucho and Lucy´s cabin
(two amazing Patagonian pobladores who helped pack in our stuff) as a day
of great company and spectacular scenery came to a close.
‑Being welcomed back to our little refugio that would be our base camp near
San Lorenzo after a small scouting mission with a cup of tea and dinner,
excited beyond belief about heading up onto the snow again.
‑Day three in the tent waiting for good weather, playing yet another game of
truco (a Patagonian card game, that is all about deceiving your opponents.)
and looking at our garden outside (a plastic sunflower brought for good
luck)
‑ Eyes filled with smoke, hating the fact that when we had left the pump up
high when we headed back to the refugio.
‑Curled in the tent, listening to the wind howl around us, but not touch the
tent as we were protected by this huge rock face on the edge of a filled in
Burgshrund (sp?) and feeling our platform slowly melt out from under us, as
we wondered how so much snow can accumulate between the fly and the tent and
so little on top.
‑Talking with everyone at 4 pm about our disicion to go for the summitt then
desptie the deep snow due to the perfect weather. Just because none of us
had never left for a summitt that late, hey, at least we had a full moon.
‑Scott saying ¨this route sucks¨ (and everyone totally agreeing) the cusp of
night and a few hours of tricky route finding with possible some 4th and 5th
class ice climbing ahead. Then finally, the difficult decision, that while
it may mean the summit, turning around.
‑The total sense of relief reaching the tent safely that night under the
spectacular starry southern sky.
‑A day of perfect weather as we laid around, melted snow for water and
wrote, laughing at the fact that because of then previous days trials, the
next day (which turned out to be beautiful) was a rest day. You not sapose
to relax on good days in Patagonia, but hey, it was fun.
‑A restless night with increasing winds and clouds and the sinking feeling
that we had missed our weather window and therefore chance at the summit.
‑A 3 am discussion, highlighted by a huge avalanche whos wind blast got our
tent and the fact that it was Tuesday the 13th (Chilean version of Friday
the 13th) that resulted in a decision to head down as quickly as possible.
‑Toasting over HUGE calzons and wine in the rufugio to a great trip and
great friends.
‑Lucho, in full Patagonia Poblador clothing, walking on the slack line we
had set up at his place. He’s not bad!
‑Bouncing along the trail, prodding my horse to keep up as we made our grand
exit of the mountains in true slacker style.
‑Talking about land management in the area, and not able to believe that
there I was in southern Patagonia on a horse after a climbing trip.
Making my way up to Bolivia...
‑The joy of hearing the voice of a familiar friend when I called Becca´s
Chilean family and we made plans to meet up.
‑Seeing Christina, a Chilean friend from NOLS, off at the airport surround
by TV cameras as we laughed and talked about her trip to Everest as part of
an all women’s Chilean climbing expedition.
‑Returning to the Santiago airport for the third consecutive day to see off
a good friend filled with the sinking feeling that I was leaving home all
over again. Trying to build up the courage to face beginning on yet another
journey, but feeling blessed to have felt `at home` so many times this year.
‑Exploring the mysterious hills of Valapraso as cats darted in and out of
the colonial buildings and I looked out at the sea pondering how this town
how kept such a charm while the areas surrounding it look like Chilean
versions of Maimi beach.
‑Waking up early in yet another long bus ride to watch the sun warm the dry
desert along the ocean as it rose to greet another day.
‑Some great philosophical talks about everything including the meaning and
purpose of traveling to the possibility of life on other planets with random
travelers along the way.
‑Meeting Becca at exactly 2 pm in the remote mining town of Calama after
almost no coordination about how we were going to find each other, realizing
we were bound for a fantastic week.
‑Driving our little white rental car up the steep hill side of a remote hill
at 4000 meters in the alltiplano, cresting the hill and grabbing each other
as we were overwhelmed by the beauty of the perfectly blue lake sitting
bellow.
‑The many, many truckers, police, and miners who either laughed at us or
shook their head at the fact we got where we had in the car we were in.
‑Sitting on the side of the road, calculating to the liter, if we had enough
gas to cross the salt plain and the whole of the Atacama desert without
running out, truing the corner, and making that plunge into a sea of white 3
feet high slat crystals with nothing but space in front of us. (And of
course the relief when we just made the gas station at the other end)
‑Going to bed next to the crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean, reflecting on
the day, and saying how the next 3 could not possible be as wonderful,
emotional and overwhelming.
‑Three days later, totally exushated because each day turned out to be as
powerful as the first.
‑Looking in the rear view window at Becca sitting on HUGE old bike with a
huge smile on her face. We had stuffed the bike in the back seat (leaving
open the rear door as the bike was too big), she sat with it, as in the
front seat a little indigenous man with a dark wise face sat next to me and
his dog ran behind. He had approached us in this small‑enchanted town that
we thought was abandoned, and in broken Spanish, asking for a ride home.
‑Driving into the next town as women dressed in colorful woven shawls pulled
bread from round adobe ovens and children in matching school uniforms
scattered in every direction.
‑As we drove the final push back to Calama, feeling the car giving out as it
was running out of gas, realizing, maybe this time we had pushed it too far.
(Luck with down hills and a closer station than we though was well as a
lot of willing the car to keep going, found us costing, totally out of gas
into a mining gas station, with no major incident).
‑Being harassed at 7 in the morning before Becca left, and being glad that I
wasn’t going to be staying in a hard mining town in South America much
longer. The ssssss, everywhere you go get old really quickly.
‑Boarding the late night train that would take some 20 hours to go 300 km to
Uyuni Bolivia. Being handed an adorable 1 year old Bolivian girl, raped in
woven blankets as her mom scrambled to get the last of her bags full of
carrots and apples for her family.
‑6 hours at the boarder for no reason we could really figure out, realizing
that I was leaving the efficiency of Chile, and back to the wonderful chaos
of a developing country.
‑Climbing a hill outside of Uyuni with some 2000 Bolivian on the day before
Easter to do the stations of the cross, truing around, looking out over the
red land and the huge salt plane amazed at their life, and the very
existence of this town in the middle of no where, where I was finding myself
for a few days longer than I expected.
‑The joy of finally arriving in La Paz, the trill of getting lost all day
through amazing markets, and wishing I was going to have a lot more time
here.
‑way too much time on the computer!
Wow, that turned out to be a lot longer than I expected. Sorry and thanks
to those of you who made it all the way to the end. So many thought,
feelings and memories, I feel like I just touched on them. It is getting
late, I need to make it back to my hotel through a somewhat sketchy
neighborhood, so I am going to sign off. Best of luck to you all.
Always,
Anne