Happy New Year!!!!

It's the last day of 2013.

I wanted write a post to thank all of you for supporting my blog this year.

I look forward to another year of posting advice, pictures, and stories from my life and travels.

Happy New Year to all of you!

See you in 2014!

Photo Essay from Angkor Wat: How to take unique and cool travel photos

"Have you been to Angkor Wat yet?" she asked me, as I pulled up a chair with my breakfast.

"I biked around it yesterday..." I answered, proudly. Keeping to myself the part where I ran out of water, took a wrong turn which took me 6km out of the way (a path I later had to retrace), and also the part where I rode back to the hostel without a map, in the dark. And the part where I almost cried when I made it back to the hostel, grateful to somehow have navigated the dark streets back to my home for the night. I hope she didn't notice my abnormally generous breakfast portions - I didn't even eat dinner the night before, as I was so tired.

"Wow, I didn't know you could do that! Some French guys and I are just going to hire a tuk tuk driver to take us around today. I guess you don't want to go again, do you?"

I'd bought a 3-day pass when I entered the grounds, and only visited for the one day, so it would be free for me to go again today. I'd also have a chance to take some more photos since I spent most of the first day biking.

"Sure I'd love to go again."

With that simple exchange, minutes later I was in a tuk tuk introducing myself in French to two Parisians and a woman from Switzerland. This was my chance, I thought, to take all the crazy creative photos I had wanted to take yesterday. We arranged to have our driver take us around the grounds for the day for twenty bucks. 5 bucks each.

When you visit somewhere as famous as Angkor Wat, it can be a challenge to make your photos stand out among the crowd. I hope you enjoy the shots I have collected below, and get inspired to take less than ordinary photos on your next trip. Enjoy!




Day one: How many faces can you find? (I see five)



Photos of signs break up the monotony of photos, and sometimes offer humour and insight into the culture you are visiting. I love that rust has peeled most of the important letters right off of this sign.



"Get out of my photo!" is what you want to yell. Either that, or stand there and wait 10 minutes for everyone to clear out, then you get your postcard photo... but to me, people are fascinating. Visiting Angkor Wat is a shared experience, so I like to involve strangers in my photos. All of these people are looking at something, seeing something, experiencing something, just like me.



I was initially very surprised when I heard Korean spoken in Angkor Wat. I wanted to introduce myself to the group I saw, but then after a moment it became clear that I would be hearing a lot more Korean that day. There were tour group upon tour group of Koreans making their way through the ruins, (with me tagging along to try to get some history without anyone knowing I could understand them). I wanted to take a photo of the Korean tour buses to remind myself of that moment. (Fun fact! I was hired by Hana Tour in 2011 to make videos of a luxury tour they offer in the Southern regions of South Korea. Click here to watch that video).



Including this lone biker in my shot here gives scale to the photo.



Giant crumbs.



Selfie at the top of Pre Rup temple, awaiting the sunset. If only I could have told myself that I had 10 more hours of biking ahead of me.



Sunlit temple guests, all hungry for a glimpse at the sunset.



Silhouetted sunset. I remember feeling really happy about this photo.




Day two: Our tuk tuk driver took us to a conveniently located "shopping area" that I hadn't found on my own the day before.




A welcome break from the sun.



Small souvenirs that may or may not be made in China.



Peeking out in between the rungs. The straight angles give a nice perspective. After I took this photo, a few other tourists took the same one.



Getting off the path and onto the grass lets you get closer to the ruins. Also, crouching down a bit gives a more intimate perspective.



Just pretending this is my kitchen window.



Dried up desert grass with paths for tourists. Again, I like to include people in my photos.



I wanted my photo with all these strangers in it. It adds so much colour and life to the photo, and also gives a sense of how crowded Angkor Wat really is.



Tuk tuk riding. Photos of the interesting vehicles we ride in when travelling are always interesting to show family and friends.



Monks in saffron robes.



Pretending to see a far-off land.



Backs and faces. Note the almost invisible woman in the right corner.



Another sign photo - I like this one because of the different languages, and the very easily climbable barricade.



This is classic Expatkerri. I love tree photos, and I love looking up photos, so why not look up from the base of a tree?



Okay - so this is not that original. But it's fun nonetheless!



I spy someone snoozing.



Tree vs. temple (I think the tree is winning)



So many details, everywhere. I wonder if there are more carved people than tourists?



A surprising moment of calm in Ta Prohm.



Shadowy sandy crumbs.



Seeing through lines at the end of the day.



I always seem to meet the sweetest Koreans when I am on the road!

I will end with a failed jumping photo. If you've ever tried to take a jumping photo, you probably have a lot of photos that look just like this one.

What do you to create memorable photos? Leave a comment below.

All of these photos were taken using the Toy Camera setting on the Canon ELPH 300HS

I didn’t change anyone’s life

 

A year ago today, I was in LaPaz, Bolivia. The week before we were doing a homestay on a small island in Lake Titicaca, and the week before that we were walking up Machu Picchu. With so much travel behind me, I approached Bolivia with the intention of staying put for a while. I planned to volunteer to teach English somewhere to get my bearings, reorganize my backpack, and improve my Spanish. After extensive google searches for volunteer positions in Bolivia, I settled on a small children’s daycare called Luz del Mundo in Santa Cruz. 

When I arrived in Santa Cruz after my overnight bus from LaPaz, I hopped in a taxi and told the driver the address of my homestay. We flew through roundabouts in the downtown streets until we turned and I began to see tall gates surrounding buildings. It took me a minute to realize that those gates were around houses, and that we had entered a residential area. When the taxi stopped, I saw an 8-foot fence surrounding the house I would be living in. The gate was locked, and I didn’t have a key. Within a moment of my arrival, a short man walked up to me on the sidewalk and asked “Kerri?” He handed me two keys on a Munich key chain. I unlocked the padlock on the gate and let myself in. Not knowing where to go, and realizing no one was home, I walked to the back of the house where there was an open court area. I sat and read about Santa Cruz in my guidebook until the owner of the house came home. “Kerri? Porque… why are you here? Your room is there with your name on it,” she said, pointing at a brown door across the court with a little white sign on it. I dropped off my bags into my little brown room, and even arranged a few items on the bookshelves. It felt like I was decorating.

My first day on the job, I woke up early to take a bus with Katharina, a German anthropology student living and working in Santa Cruz. She smelled of chlorine, and offering me a pamphlet, invited me to swim with her in the mornings. At the side of the road, she hailed a small white bus and told me “You can take the 21, the 65, and the 120 from here, but I think the 21 is the fastest.” She paid the 15 cent fare for both of us and we found two seats at the back of the bus. Everyone watched as we climbed to the back of the bus. “They stare, so I just stare back,” she explained, “there aren’t many people who look like you or me here.” She pulled out a bag with two buns inside and told me these were her favourite local food. “It’s cuñapé, like a heavenly cheese bread that everyone seems to eat here even though no one gets fat”. Little did I know I’d become addicted to cuñapé, not only because it was delicious, but also because it was one of few things I learned how to order in the bakery.

  
After about 45 minutes through the city streets, trying to remember all of the information Katharina was offering me while also trying to memorize landmarks to make sure I could do the journey on my own, she motioned to get off soon. “You can tell it’s coming because the streets get muddy.” I looked down and noticed the dirt street was splattered with muddy puddles, despite the dry sunny weather.

“They have a very poor sewage system here, and people just leave their garbage everywhere, so there are some parts of the road that never dry up.” She yelled for the bus driver to let us off, and we were greeted by a gust of dusty wind and the smell of sewage. “What did you say to the bus driver just then?” I asked. “Pare por favor, which just means stop.”

We walked through a dusty setup of stalls with garbage on the ground, and everyone stared again. “I told you there aren’t many people like us around here.” She explained that the foundation is for underprivileged children of divorced parents. “Since these kids have poor parents, they live in the poor area, so our daycare is here so they can walk.” The street was a dirt road with puddles in the middle. As we approached Luz del Mundo, I heard the familiar sound of children laughing.

When we walked in, I was greeted by a smiling Gabriela, the founder of the daycare. After introducing myself, I was informed that the daycare is only open 4 days a week, so I wouldn’t be needed everyday. Contemplating what to do with my extra time, I sat at a table where some kids were cutting out animal shapes from cardboard. “Me llamos Kerri…” I let out, “cuál es tu nombre?” The reply was incomprehensible, so I asked her to repeat. For the next ten minutes, this little girl repeated her full name over and over, between sighs, and insisted I repeat it. Then, satisfied with my rendition of her name, she asked me why I didn’t understand Spanish.

Point taken. I joined a beginner Spanish course at Kolping in the afternoons, and began to study Spanish formally for the first time in my life. The school seemed like the YMCA, as there were kids in ballet costumes running around the first floor. My instructor was Gladys, and I studied with two others, a French student and a Japanese office worker. I felt happy to finally be nurturing the language fanatic in me.

 
That night, I received an email from Gabriela at Luz del Mundo telling me that they were doing construction, and that I wouldn’t need to come in the next day. Then another email the following night to tell me not to come in again because of a holiday. It was clear that I wouldn’t be needed as much as I thought, so my homestay host connected me with Casa de la Mujer, an organization supporting women’s equality in South America. I went there the next morning to offer my services as a volunteer with nonexistent Spanish, and remarkably they wanted me. My first job was to take un-catalogued books from the library and to put them into the computer system. I felt like I was actually working, which felt nice.

Within a week of arriving, I’d started Spanish classes, volunteered once at the daycare, and started volunteering at the organization for women. In my free time between volunteering and studying, I walked the downtown streets and visited the same coffee shop every afternoon. I’d order my café con leche with a croissant from the same waitress and sit at the same table to do my homework. I quickly made a routine for myself, and enjoyed the novelty of becoming a creature of habit.

During my second time volunteering at the daycare, I asked Gabriela about teaching. She said I could do whatever I wanted with the kids, but that they really liked art. There was nothing that looked scholarly about the place – it consisted of a swing set, some picnic benches, a washing up station, a dusty drum kit, some board games, and tables with little stools under them. No blackboard, no chalk, no books. I realized that I might do less teaching and more arts and crafts than I expected.

Since my Spanish was still not great, I ended up having the most fun with the kids when I gave them piggybacks. Two weeks of my life was spent piggybacking these kids from one end of the daycare to the other and back. And it was fine with me, because making those kids happy made me happy.

When I returned to Casa de la Mujer, I sat back at the computer where I finished cataloguing the books and I was left alone without another task. A woman walked by and saw me idle, and invited me to follow her. She let me into a recording studio where live radio was taking place. I sat quietly and listened to the voices around the corner. This became my new favourite place at the women’s organization. The young man who controlled the soundboard helped me with my homework and couldn’t believe I’d been to Asia. He played Bolivian rap for me on his phone. I played Arcade Fire for him. Although I wasn’t really working, I was still sharing my life with someone.

  
After spending six months travelling through South America, I can confidently say that nothing ever goes exactly as planned there. Bus schedules are rearranged without notice, and prices change day to day. A promised beautiful hostel with wi-fi turns out to be a cobwebbed house with chickens to wake you up at 5:00am.

  
Naturally, my time in Bolivia didn't go as I anticipated, either. I didn’t learn as much Spanish or teach as much English as I thought I would. I didn’t change anyone’s life, and I didn’t make any lasting friendships. But, none of that matters.

Life doesn’t tend to go as we plan it. In fact, if I asked myself where I would be in one year back when I was in Bolivia, I would have said I’d be in Korea now. But, life happens, things change, and now I’m writing this blog post from my apartment in Toronto, overlooking the city skyline. What would my one-year-ago self say to that? She’d probably smile, shrug her shoulders, and say there must be a reason for being in Toronto.

I made a few people smile in Santa Cruz, and that’s enough reason to do anything.

Thank you, Brenna, for helping me get my words back on the page.

VIDEO: Passport Tag

I was recently tagged to participate in a Passport Tag started by my friends EvannRachel. The concept is to answer 5 questions about your most recent passport, and to share some cool stamps you've received and tell some stories... I hope you enjoy my video!

If you would like to participate in the tag, simply make a video answering the following 5 questions:

1. What is your most recent stamp?
2. What was your first stamp?
3. What's your coolest looking stamp?
4. What's the most meaningful stamp?
5. What was the most difficult stamp to get?

Thanks to EvannRachel for tagging me! I love sharing travel stories - so thanks for giving me another reason!

See their original video here:

You know you're a wanderer if...

The desire to wander doesn't come to naturally to everyone. Some of us long to wake up in the same bed, walk down the same streets, see familiar faces, and spend time in the same places. To some of us, home has an unmatched sense of security and offers the chance to put roots down.

For the wanderers, though, there is a whole world just a few hours away. A photo in a magazine can become a destination. A tweet from a secret location explored by a fellow wanderer turns into a plane ticket. A documentary from a far-off land becomes an internet search for a ticket to Bhutan, "just to see". A lifetime isn't long enough to walk all the roads a wanderer wants to walk, but it will have to do.

You know you're a wanderer if...

... You've been back from travelling for longer than a month and you still haven't entirely unpacked your bag, for the simple fact that you know you'll be needing to pack up the same items for your next trip. (Even though that trip may not be planned yet).

... People often think you have been places that you haven't been, because "it seems like somewhere you probably went".

... The idea of spending a month or a year in another country is thrilling and exciting to you.

... You don't own furniture, or you are very uncomfortable with the idea of buying large furniture items. (I promise I now have a dining table after 2 months without one -- thanks to my dad for salvaging a beautiful three-legged old table from the side of the road. No more dinners in bed!).

... You've had more than one conversation entirely in gestures.

... When you go to a party, you somehow become a storyteller who wows the crowd with funny moments from your travels that you didn't realize were great stories until people say to you "that was a great story".

... You google flight costs, or visit any plane ticket purchasing sites frequently.

... Old friends greet you with the words "I didn't even know you were in the country" and it makes you feel a little happy that you are somewhat of a gypsy in their eyes.

... Sometimes you catch yourself encouraging others to go ahead and book a ticket when they tell you where they wish they could travel. Then when they provide reasons why they can't book the ticket just yet, you start listing off reasons why they could technically leave on a plane tomorrow. (This type of conversation is also called "travel pushing").

... (as above) You think you are or have been a "travel pusher".

... Your idea of an inspiring afternoon is hanging out in the travel section of your local bookstore, staring at the beautiful pictures of places you've both been and want to visit, mentally creating destinations for your next travels.

... People have described you as "brave," whether or not you ascribe this quality to yourself or not.

... You dream of plane rides.

... You know exactly where your passport is, when it expires, and approximately how many blank pages you still have left.

"A lifetime isn't long enough to walk all the roads a wanderer wants to walk, but it will have to do."