I Got Mugged in South America

Exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Santiago, Chile

It happened. After 6 months of travelling and listening to other people's stories of muggings, it happened to me.

On the afternoon of the incident, I went to the Museum of Contemporary Art in Santiago, Chile. I had a fun time walking through exhibitions of light and sound, as well as getting inspired for my own creative endeavours. After an hour in the museum, I came outside to a sunny staircase where I had seen a girl sitting earlier. I thought to myself "why not have a seat and soak up some sun" and took a seat on the stairs. There were others around, sitting on the grass nearby; couples kissing, friends eating, people biking. I felt so relaxed and happy, and warmed by the light of the sun on my skin.

After a few moments of quiet relaxation, it occurred to me that I should confirm the location of the hostel of my friend whom I was meeting that evening. Without much thought, I pulled out my phone and swiped through my pictures to find the map. Happy to be seeing this old friend again, (who I first met in Peru, then again in Argentina, who I would now see in Chile!), I was in my own world.

*SWOOSH*

As fast as a gust of wind, a guy ran up behind me, grabbed my phone, and ran down the stairs. What was in my hand a moment ago as a tool was not in my hand anymore.

All action, not thought.

I yelled "No! No!" and ran down the stairs after him. "Stop! Help me! He stole my phone! Stop!" I yelled as I ran after him. Someone got up from the grass and chased after him. I chased after the both of them, still yelling for help. They ran around the block to the front of the Museum of Fine Arts, and when I turned the corner after them, they were both gone. Onlookers wide-eyed and stunned stared at me, and I yelled "Where are they!?" and I was pointed onwards. I kept running, and realized my shirt had come unbuttoned during the chase. Holding my shirt closed with one hand, I kept running to find the man who was helping me standing next to a parked car. I ran up to him, coming to the realization that the thief was gone, along with my phone. All the photos, videos, and memories of South America, gone in a second.

As I reached him, out of breath and panting, I asked "where is he?" and the man pointed down at the car. I walked around to the other side of the car to see the thief crouched down by the front wheel. He looked like a little mouse who had stolen a piece of cheese. The man then said, "Give her back her phone!" in a fantastic display of heroism. The thief pulled the phone from his pocket, and handed it up to me while saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" repeatedly.

My phone was in my hands again.

Instinctively, I hugged the man who helped me, and still catching my breath, thanked him. "I don't speak much Spanish, but thank you" I uttered through coughs, in broken Spanish. He replied that it was nothing, and we walked away from the parked car to the front of the museum. Deer-in-headlights stares from onlookers continued, and I realized again in that moment that my shirt was still undone. I buttoned it up as two friends walked up to the man who helped me. Spoken in rapid Spanish, I heard a re-cap of events which ended with "You got it back!?"

I made more attempts at a Spanish thank you:

"Without your help, I wouldn't have a phone anymore." + "I can't run fast." + "I want to buy you a present."

"A present?" He laughed, and I gave him another hug and a kiss on the cheek. I said to his friends "Keep him, he's a gentleman."

"Well, he's my brother, so yes I will keep him." His sister replied, and we laughed.

With that, we parted ways, and I sat on a bench in front of the museum counting my lucky stars. Or my four leaf clovers. Or my guardian angels.

I also contemplated my stupidity to chase after a potentially dangerous person. He could have had a knife, or a group of friends waiting for him, or a car... anything could have happened. I was just so lucky that the thief was alone, and that we were able to stop him.

As a female traveller, I am obligated to think about the worst situations that can occur on the road, both as a foreign person, and as a female. I also think about what I would do if in one of those situations. I've always maintained that if I was in a position to do so, I would draw attention to myself by yelling.

I realized my strategy was a good one in this situation. Yelling for help brought help to me. People looked, and they knew something was wrong. Despite the fact that only one person actually got up and chased him with me, it only took the two of us stop the thief.

I had been in Chile for two weeks prior to this incident, and in those two weeks I felt a great increase in quality of living compared to the other major cities of South America. Santiago has big shiny buildings, people using iphones on the subway, and it felt very world class to me. For this reason, I acted in ways I hadn't acted in place like Peru or Ecuador, where I felt less personal security. I never would have sat in a public park in Lima with my iphone out, and I let my guard down in Santiago.

After this mugging, I was reminded again that I'm not invincible. No matter how comfortable I feel in a place, I have to remember that an iphone is a very attractive piece of technology for someone in the market to steal. I never should have sat in public with my phone out, especially so nonchalantly on the stairs of a museum in a park.

I wish all of the other stories of muggings that I heard about while on this trip had happy endings like mine.

Thanks to you, gentleman stranger.

Kittens of South America

Hostel kitten named "Pisco" living at our hostel in Huanchaco, Peru

Resident kitten at the Dive Little Corn scuba shop in Nicaragua

Worn out by the constant attention of all the kids at Luz Del Mundo in Santa Cruz, Bolivia

Kitty who may or may not have a nun for a mum, in Cali, Colombia

I am a cat lover, which is wonderful when I'm at home with my parents cats and can snuggle them to my heart's content. But, as a traveller who lives abroad, it's not easy to have a pet. I have lived for the past 6 years without a cat, and sometimes I really miss having a purring ball of fuzz in my arms.

Lucky for me, South America is full of kittens and cats.

And, unlike street cats in Korea, they are friendly and approach strangers easily.

I've made lots of friends on this trip, and shared a lot of laughs with people I know I'll be seeing again. On this same path, I've met a lot of animals: cats, dogs, horses, sheep, cows, pelicans, iguanas, sharks, sea and giant turtles, and penguins, among others.

Meeting animals on travels can help to bring you into the moment and keep you there, as you interact with an animal for a few moments. In those moments, it doesn't matter where you're from, they won't ask. You transcend your nationality and your budget and all the plans you have, and simply connect with an animal as you always have when at home or in other places.

A purring cat in your lap is beautiful and magical, be it in a beach town hostel in Peru or in your own bed.

What are your experiences with meeting animals on the road?

*This post is dedicated to my parents' cat named Beary, who passed away at the age of 18 while I was travelling this fall. I heard from my mom that he was purring right up until his last breath, so I hope he is resting in peace.*

The next year of my life

A happy afternoon spent wine tasting in Mendoza, Argentina

Sitting here in my hostel in Mendoza, I try to envision the next year of my life. It's harder to imagine than it used to be.

Before arriving in South America, I was certain I would return to Korea after finishing this trip. I had a boyfriend there, and full intentions to return to him and the life I have there. Plans involving living in Seoul, working at another Education University, continuing to improve my Korean skills, and deepening my friendships and the life I love in Korea.

That was before South America.

That was before these magical countries captured a place in my heart that I never knew was there. A place that loves the warmth of red wine, the wild beats of salsa, the romance of speaking Spanish, and the vast mountain and ocean landscapes. As I spend my days here amazed by the sheer diversity of natural beauty before me, part of me wonders why I wouldn´t try living here.

The other part of me, the Asia-loving, chopstick weilding, funny sticker booth photo-taking, rice field admiring, crowded subway riding, Korean speaking, public sauna attending part of me... it longs for Asia, and in particular, Korea. I miss it so deeply, and only the Korean phrase "그리워요" seems to express my longing appropriately.

Sometimes, when you travel the world, you end up so positively open that you can fall in love with almost any place. It´s just a case of finding the place which will make you the happiest. Here, as I continue to travel, I need to start making that choice.

Impossible Possibles in Uyuni

I came face to face with a dinosaur (who I outran)

I played football with a soccer ball ten times my size

We hid quietly in someone's running shoe until they came back to find it

Brenna stepped on our new Canadian friend

I kissed a life-size teddy bear where everyone could see

I shrunk my friends and held them in my hands

And we decided to march into a Pringles container, too.

The Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia is the scene for all these possibilities, with crystal white salt until bright blue sky horizons. The blinding sun and reflections off the salt made it very hard to see the preview screen for our cameras, so we couldn't be sure whether we nailed the photos or not until we reviewed them in the car. Once we looked at them, we all laughed and high fived that we managed to capture some impossible moments flawlessly.

Even after an hour of photo taken, we weren't ready to leave the wild landscape.

Travel can bring you to the most amazing places you never even knew existed in the world, and I am so glad I was able to visit this incredible scenery. I'm also glad to know that sometimes, the impossible IS possible with a little creativity.

A Guide to Hostel Etiquette from Expatkerri

Having slept in over 100 hostels in cities all over Asia, Europe, and Central and South America, I feel I've experienced all sides of hostels. I've slept in the comfy 4-bed female dorm all the way up to the 36-bed mixed dorm, and I hereby offer my 10 simple rules for hostel dorm etiquette. Obey these recommendations, and you'll be the change I want to see in the hostelling community.

Creative mural in Kokopelli Hostel in Cusco, Peru

1. Remember that bunkbeds are for two people.

When I am sleeping above or below you, if you shuffle and re-make your bed at 2am, I shuffle just as much. If you are on the top bunk, try to prioritize and organize your necessary items so that you climb down and up as little as possible. If you're on the bottom bunk, please don't lean your bag on the ladder or else I will fall on it when I try to step down in the dark.

2. No sex, end of story.

Don't do it. When you come home drunk, and it seems like you and your new dude are the only two souls in the universe, take your love somewhere else. None of us need to hear or see your drunken lovemaking, nor do we want to be woken up by the creaking of the bunkbed. Get a room, or at the very least go to the bathroom.

3. Don't slam the door.

Be aware of your surroundings, and the space you share with others. When you slam the door, and we are still sleeping, it wakes us and scares us, and you give us the impression that we made you angry. Consider the people around you, and take an extra second to close the door quietly.

4. Prepare for bedtime in advance.

If you know you're going out, and will likely come back after others are sleeping, prepare the things you need for bed before you leave. Get out your pyjamas, toothbrush, towel, alarm, water, and anything else that you might need. Bonus points for those who bring a torch with them and use it instead of turning on the lights at 3am.

5. Take your bag outside if you need to shuffle.

When leaving for an early morning bus or flight, there's no question that you'll be up before others. The most courteous way to deal with an early morning pack up is to quietly take your whole bag out of the room, and to re-pack it, zip it, and shuffle all your belongings once you're in the common area. This way the room remains quiet, and you spare the sanity of the people still sleeping.

6. Quick bathroom use.

Many hostels offer only one bathroom for 6-10 people. The bathroom takes on inexplicable importance to the people in the room, and the time you use it should be respected. When you take a shower, be quick, especially in the morning. Leave the bathroom right after your shower in case someone has been waiting to use it. Try to make use of mirrors in the room and other nearby facilities (if there are any) so that others may use the bathroom in the room freely. By all means, do not spend 20 minutes in the shower at 8:00 am and another 20 minutes with the water off locked in the bathroom (unless you like being glared at).

7. Throw away your plastic bags.

The rustling, shuffling, and crinkling of plastic bags is the traveler's enemy. I realize the usefulness of such bags, and use several of them in my backpack, but they are not holding my clothes nor my toiletries. Instead of plastic bags, choose mesh bags for toiletries and cotton sacks for your clothes. These bags are much quieter, and no one will wake up when you scramble looking through the bag to find your other sock. If you find yourself needing to crinkle and shuffle a plastic bag, refer to tip number 5.

8. Turn off your snooze.

I am a fan of the snooze button, and use it every morning when I get ready for work. However, when I travel, I am sharing my room with other people who might not want to hear my Marimba ringtone every 5 minutes for the 30 minutes it takes me to get out of bed. Set your alarm to ring once, and don't hit snooze.

9. Mind your voice.

I have been travelling with my best friend in many countries around the world, and we've shared many a hostel room together. It's tempting to engage in conversation when we catch each others' eyes while others are sleeping, but instead of whispering, we motion to go outside and have our conversations there. First of all, when you whisper in a room, if your friend can hear you, so can other people. Secondly, everyone doesn't need to hear about what happened last night or why you lost the bus tickets. Take your friend outside to the common room and talk there.

10. Be courteous.

When you enter a hostel, you are entering a shared space with other travellers. When swapping stories of where you've been or where you're going, don't assume since you've been travelling longer or in more exotic locations that you are the better traveller. A traveller on a trip for a week is the same as a traveller on a trip for a month or for a year. We are all travelling, and we all deserve to enjoy our time in the hostels that we choose. Be grateful that you've crossed paths with other travellers, and give them the same respect you would expect them to give you.

What crazy hostel moments have you had? Leave a comment sharing your stories, and write your other tips for hostel etiquette!

The likely (and less likely) things I miss from Korea

I've been away from Korea for 4 months now, and I constantly think of things I would love to be able to do if I were in Korea still. From naked scrub-downs to weddings to tears to taxis, here's a list of all the things I miss about Korea:

1. I miss jjimjilbangs

The jjimjilbang is a place of magic, where you can sit in a sauna, soak in hot baths, sleep overnight, and have a facial and a full body scrub down all for less than 30,000 won. After living in Korea for 4 years, I've really embraced the culture of daily exfoliation and scrubbing. I have the exfoliating cloths that they use in my own shower, and enjoy doing it myself, but I usually shell out 18,000 won a month to have the amazing ladies scrub me down. Now that I'm travelling, I don't have access to the amazing scrubbing women, nor to the saunas of Korea. I've tried going to spas to find similar treatments, but everything is far too expensive, and just not the same as Korea. Sigh, my skin needs a good scrub.

[Sidenote: My Korean friends often laugh at me when I say "jjimjilbangs", because I have added the plural "s" to a Korean word. Most Koreans have never heard this word used in English, and laugh hard when they hear it with an "s" at the end. So I implore you to make them laugh, and use the word "jjimjilbangs" next time it comes up.]

2. I miss weddings

My good friends Evan and Rachel just tied the knot in Seoul this weekend. My other friend Himchan (in the above image) married his sweetheart in June. The longer I live in Korea, the deeper my friendships become, and the closer we get to the perfect marrying age. When I first moved to Korea, I was missing my friends' weddings from home, but now that I am away from Korea, I am missing my Korean friends' weddings too. And there's just something about the performance and efficiency of Korean weddings that makes me really love them.

3. I miss my job

I was very lucky in Korea, as I was hired by Jinju National University of Education as one of their conversation instructors in 2010. As soon as I arrived on campus, I was greeted by bright smiles of the students and staff of this small university. Not long after, I felt like I was a part of the small community, and saw a few students and staff become truly close friends of mine. I worked there for 2 years, watching freshman grow into responsible sophomores, watching seniors take on their first teaching jobs, and watching my friendships with co-workers blossom into friendships for life. Upon finishing my contract, I had farewell dinners with students where tears were shed, tears of joy for being grateful to have met, but also tears of having to say goodbye. I am still in contact with a few students, and can't wait for the day when I can visit them again on campus and see how much they have grown.

4. I miss Asia

When I wake up in the morning in my apartment in South Korea, I feel happy to know I am in Asia. Whenever I've been away from Korea for a while, upon arriving back at Incheon airport, I feel like everything is in order again, like I'm in the right place in the world. Now that I've been away for 4 months, and that I'm not sure what my next job will be, I'm fantasizing about flying back into Seoul and starting a new job at a university there.

5. I miss sidedishes

When you eat in a restaurant in Korea, even when eating fast food, your meal is served with sidedishes. Sidedishes usually include kimchi, seaweed, mushrooms, cabbage, fish cakes, and other surprises. When you finish a sidedish you like, it will be refilled free of charge. I love this culture of generosity and sharing, and I long for Korean sidedishes everytime I eat a meal here in South America.

5. I miss the Youtube Community

It's no secret that Youtube is a big part of my life. As a big part of my Youtube life exists in Korea, a lot of my good friends are fellow vloggers. When in Korea, I love collaborating with other vloggers, and featuring them in my videos. I also am a co-organizer of the Seoultube community get togethers, and I am sad to say that I won't be in Korea for the upcoming Seoultube annual gathering in October.

6. I miss taxis

As I am travelling now, taxis are a very common mode of transportation for me. We take them from the bus stations to hostels, and sometimes take them to and from destinations in the city when we don't know the way. However, South America is known for its dodgy taxis and for scamming tourists, and so taking taxis can be a challenge. In Peru, I asked my local friends how to find a safe taxi, and was advised that the locals just look at the driver and try to choose taxi drivers with kind faces. Alone at 9pm as a female in Lima, it's hard to find a taxi driver with a nice looking face. When I stand on the street, gazing into the distance for a taxi, I miss the safety of Korean taxis, and how cheap they are. If only I could bring Korean taxi drivers and prices to Bolivia...

7. I miss set prices

In South America, and in particular in Peru, it seems that prices are nearly always double or more for tourists than they are for locals. Consider Machu Picchu: entrance for foreigners is 128 soles, nearly 8 times the price that Peruvians pay. My Peruvian friends also told me that many shopkeepers will simply double the real price when I ask, simply because of the way I look. Another example is the price of the taxi that I took to meet my Peruvian friends: I paid 20 soles on my way there (a price which I agreed to), and my Peruvian friends negotiated a taxi for just 8 soles for the same route back home. I don't mind paying a bit more as a tourist, though, since I am a guest and I don't speak enough Spanish to negotiate prices. Though price changes happen in Korea sometimes too, I still miss being in a place where I know the approximate price and value of things, and also in a place where many prices are fixed.

Korea may not win on the clean air scale, and might not be tops on the personal space scale either, but it has a lot of great things going for it. The above are just a few of the many things which make my life in Korea very comfortable and enjoyable.

All of the photos in this post come from Expatkerri's Instagram.

Atypically on Machu Picchu

My life is here now, in this hostel in this city, or on this bus, staring out this window.

This past weekend, my life brought me to a place that has been drawing me to South America for years... the magical mountains and ruins of Machu Picchu. My experience at Machu Picchu was more enlightening and less touristic than I might have previously expected, though.

Hiking up a mountain without words, with wind, and breath, and panoramic views of the valleys below leads the mind to places not easily reached when among the throws of daily living. I began contemplating my place in the world, the things I have done, the things I want, and the things I need in my life, as well as the people in it.

I've now ended a relationship with the man who has been closest to me for the last nine months. Sometimes, the road makes life so viceral, and so immediate, that holding on to a love from home becomes too difficult, too trying.

When sitting above the ruins of Machu Picchu, looking down over the mountains below, we were greeted with a beautiful sight. The ruins were visible to us, and within a moment would be hidden behind a layer of clouds blown in. In another moment, the clouds would lift, and the ruins would be visible again. Am I not like the ruins, and the people in my life not like the clouds, passing through? Some clouds linger and stay in our view, while others move past to greet the next mountain tops.

Physically exhausted, and philosophically dazed, I leave Peru in three days. I hope to enter Bolivia with a renewed sense of purpose and determination, knowing that I have followed my intuition.

Even though travel is often sold as an escape from real life, it can also offer a startling perspective on your own life, which is invisible to you when you're in the middle of living it.

For this new perspective on my own reality, travel, I thank you.