The Delectable Treat of Unawatuna

I've never been one to turn down the opportunity to travel to a new place, so when my boyfriend, Sanoon, suggested we take a long weekend to Sri Lanka together, I had all but packed both our backpacks before proclaiming the word "yes" in agreement.

Before I knew it, we happily boarded a 25 minute seaplane from our resort to the Male Airport.

Once in the airport, we had the pleasant surprise of running into our friend, Tinos. Tinos worked as a dive master at our resort but was placed with a dive center in another Atoll a few weeks ago. Our happy reunion helped pass the time in transit as we waited 3 hours to board our flight to Sri Lanka.

The flight was an easy breezy hour to Colombo. With only a few days in Sri Lanka, we didn't want to waste any time, so Sanoon and I decided to skip dinner and begin the long journey to the South Coast of the country. One rickshaw, two buses and 6 hungry hours later, we arrived on the outskirts of Unawatuna, a coastal beach town one of our Sri Lankan friends recommended as a good place to spend the weekend. Knowing we would arrive famished in the early morning hours, we opted to go above our "budget travel" allowance and booked a [supposedly] 5 Star hotel with 24 hour room service. However, upon arrival we realized the hotel was not what it promised to be online. With a single security guard at reception to greet us and the kitchen long closed, we were informed that there was nothing they could do to accommodate our hunger.

( I think our "roommates" got the right idea and decided to look for dinner elsewhere).

We must have played on just the right amount of starving sympathy and convinced the security guard to bring us a plate of fruit as it didn't require much kitchen preparation.

Our hotel was conceived by three male European shoe designers. As we noshed on the fruit plate and looked around the new digs, I began to feel as though these shoe designers furnished the entire room from a sex store in New York's West Village.

This room was too flamboyant even for Tim Gunn to approve...

The next day, Sanoon and I left the Freudian phallic paradise and took a tuk tuk to find a more affordable hotel closer to the center of Unawatuna.

The laid back town of Unawatuna was the perfect place to relax and enjoy the beach,

Kick back with a cup of [vaguely familiar] "Starbeans Coffee,"

Peruse some of the famous teas of Sri Lanka in a local tea shop,

And take a welcome break from our resort cafeteria with a delicious Italian dinner.

(I promise to get a shot of the food in my next dinner-selfie).

Aside from eating and relaxing, we were able to squeeze in a nice beach party and a surf lesson in the nearby town of Galle. [Sorry, no pix here folks!]

After a few days in Unawatuna, we took a bus back to Colombo and spent our last 24 hours shopping, swimming in a rooftop pool at sunset,

And taking quick trip to the salon to get our hairz did before our final nice dinner at Tao in the Cinnamon Gardens.

(Chocolate cheesecake and "straight" hair in the tropics...who knew!)

I loved Sri Lanka so much that before I even boarded our flight back to the Maldives, I started projecting plans for the next trip to visit the northern tea plantations of the country. Surely, another adventure is warranted in paradise!

#vacationallieverwanted #vacationhadtogetaway

Boredom- A State Bigger Than Texas/The Art of Doing Nothing

Dear Readers,

I apologize for the massive delay in posts this time around. To be completely honest, it's been even harder to write about traveling while living on this single speck in the middle of the Indian Ocean than it was while living on a single bed in my childhood bedroom.

So far working in the Maldives has not been what I expected. Yes, I get to wake up every morning in a natural paradise,

I run the 1.8km length of my island before teaching my morning fitness classes either at the pool

or in my Jungle Gym.

I like to take time out of my day to further my Ashtanga Practice on the yoga platform,

Steal coconut slices when no one is looking,

("Help Yourself" is a message intended for the guests and not me...clearly.)

And on my day off, take advantage of the incredible ocean habitat by going SCUBA diving or searching for whale sharks on the top of a Dhoni [a traditional Maldivian boat].

My job has given me the amazing opportunity to meet and train people from all over the world, but when I first arrived on the island, the resort was not very busy so I found myself occupying free time by practicing skills in which I was so devoid of talent that I previously evaded them for embarrassment's sake. Nonetheless, when you're on an island in the middle of nowhere, things like table tennis, pool and darts seem like fantastic [albeit humbling] options to kill fill some time.

(My first and last bullseye. Beginner's luck, indeed.)

Although the leisurely perks of my job are nice, I'd be lying if I said that my arrival to this island was stress free. There was one enormous anchor that continued to weigh down my time here- BOREDOM.

My grandmother used to say, "there is no such thing as boredom because you can always find something to do." I definitely think she made a legitimate point, but then again, Grandma never lived in the Maldives.

To say the island I live on is "small" is an understatement. It takes about 30 minutes to walk from tip to tip. There are no cars. No roads. No nightlife. Nothing. Just ocean and sky out here. As much as I was warned via Internet forums that living and working in the Maldives was boring, I thought that my years longing for retreat from the daily grind of Western society warranted the challenge.

Of course, I can see the benefit of living so far removed from my New York City life. I was frequently overwhelmed there by the sheer amount people, buildings and sensory stimuli. I even developed my own source of city survival skills out of an intense relationship with my noise canceling headphones and a few alternating playlists of Enya, Ekhart Tolle and Lama Marut. And I cannot deny that I am more than grateful that for the first time in years, I do not need to worry about income and housing.

Despite the intense challenge in my first few weeks here, I looked at this environment as an opportunity for growth instead of an obstacle for stagnancy. Many people referred to life on the resort as living in a 5 Star Prison but as I began to reframe my thinking, I came to realize that prison only truly existed in the mind.

(My best friend, Maiwenn, made fun of me extensively for uttering such a crunchy-granola-existential statement, but then she put on a onesie and played the ukelele for me in a ski mask, so I think we're even.)

The more comfortable I grew in this environment, the more I began to appreciate the small big things I received here, like waking up at sunrise to train people in a gorgeous millennium pool,

riding jet skis with friends on my lunch break,

and creating my own version of Happy Hour by swimming in a lagoon at twilight.

Life is quiet at the moment, but I know it will only temporarily stay this way, so I am lapping up the luxury of my working retreat from the West.

As I've clearly demonstrated, I'm not certain how frequently I'll be posting blogs here. However, I'll do my best to update any time something interesting happens or if I'm able to take the odd weekend and travel to another island or country in the region. Till then, I am sending you all some island sunshine and Indian Ocean kisses to boot...

Ready to Fly in the Blink of an Eye

It's hard to maintain a travel blog when the only places you travel are between your childhood bedroom and the kitchen most days.

As much as my travels in the last year filled me with gratitude and bliss, they conversely drained my bank account of money and...well, more money. Seeing the low triple digits in my checking account when I returned to Nebraska not only motivated me to apply for multiple jobs a day, but also assess what I really needed the next year to look like. It became apparent that if I wasn't able to get a job that covered my living expenses, I would be forced to stay at my parent's house for much longer than I was comfortable.

Recovering from the disappointment and shock of my job falling through in the Dominican Republic, I pulled myself out of my newly revisited hole of teenage angst by making a new plan for myself [and a couple backup plans to go with it]. Plan A, apply to work as a fitness instructor on resorts around the Greater U.S. and abroad. Plan B, apply to work as a fitness instructor on cruise lines. Plan C, get my TEFL certification and teach in Asia for a year. In the meantime, I maintained a [debatable] sense of sanity by occupying my time in Nebraska with activities that got me out of the house and put a little bit of cash in my pocket. This was accomplished by continuing work on my Shaklee business and picking up a few classes teaching kickboxing and yoga around town.

Since I'd already been applying for work while I was traveling, I knew which jobsites to creep on a daily basis. My favorite jobsite published new openings daily at private resorts in the Maldives, an island nation in the Indian Ocean consisting of 26 double chain atoll islands. Fitness instructor positions were showing up few and far between in the Maldives, but one morning I woke up and found what I deemed my "dream job."

I applied to the job and lo and behold, I was shortlisted as a candidate, sent through three rounds of interviews, had all my references checked and became the first American ever to get hired by the company. I was thrilled but scared at this new and enormous prospect. However, knowing I had worked hard to design this outcome, I accepted the position and awaited my work visa to arrive within two weeks.

That was over a month and a half ago.

As the weeks went by without any indication of my work visa being processed, I started to think about Plan B and Plan C as viable options once again. I also decided that since there was no way I was going to get my visa in the foreseeable future, I would join my best friend for her bachelorette party in Vegas over the weekend.

As my sister dropped me off at the Omaha airport on Friday morning her parting words echoed, "I think you're going to get your visa while you're in Vegas," to which I replied, "There's absolutely no way in hell I would ever get this visa while I'm in Vegas."

I was right. I didn't get my visa while I was in Vegas. I got it while I was flying to Vegas. While transferring to my Vegas flight in Minneapolis, my resort informed me that my visa came through and they were ready to fly me to the Maldives on Monday.

That news may have elicited one of the biggest "OH SH*T" moments of the last year. Despite having nothing ready to pack, I decided to board my flight to Vegas anyway and spend one of my last days in America living it up and celebrating the upcoming nuptials of my best friend.

(My bestie and me on our first night out.)

The next 36 hours were filled with slot machines in the most unlikely of places,

A lady walking her cat on The Strip,

An $8 coconut water [!!!]

(That's what I get for staying sober in Vegas)

And even trip to Venice! [Well, sort of...]

 

And of course, fun times with my bestie and our friends!

Completely exhausted from my 36 hours in Vegas, I took a redeye flight back to Nebraska early Sunday morning and in less than 18 hours, packed all my belongings for an entire year and flew to New York City. I spent my remaining hours in America running around the City with my backpack tying up loose ends and saying goodbye to a couple friends in the rain.

I must admit that the quick turnaround of events has made life feel pretty surreal at the moment. However, I am happy  to have the chance to strap back on my lil backpack once again and go forth onto another adventure.

I'll be sending love from the island sunshine shortly!

Skinny Jeans: The Silver Lining to Depression

I left India with almost the same amount of urgency and impulse with which I'd arrived. As I mentioned in my previous post, I was offered a job teaching fitness at a resort in the Caribbean. Aside from being given a start date and a salary agreement, I was asked to return home immediately so the company could fly me to my post in Punta Cana from the United States. I guessed flying me half way across the world at their expense was too much to ask, so I assumed the cost and used a substantial portion of my remaining savings to purchase a ticket back to my parent's house in Nebraska. Or rather, I should say tickets back to Nebraska since the route I booked was Rishikesh-->Delhi-->Mumbai-->Amsterdam-->Minneapolis-->Lincoln.

On such short notice, my transportation options from Rishikesh were limited so my friend, Rishi, hired me a private taxi to Delhi.

(Here's Rishi looking like Batman on his motorcycle.)

Rishi and I shared one last street chai before my early Easter Sunday morning departure.

Although it was a holiday weekend, I didn't think my detour for tea [tea-tour?] would be of any concern. I'd padded my travel time to Delhi by more than two hours. Unfortunately, I didn't account for the amount of oxen and water buffalo traffic jams we'd sit in that day.

(Church Traffic...clearly.)

After 8 hours trailing slowly amongst the bovine/bison brigade, I arrived at the Delhi airport with less than 30 minutes before my flight and wasn't allowed to check in. Remembering my previous success with the "white girl in distress" routine, I pushed my way to the front of the check-in line and tearfully scored a ticket for the next flight to Mumbai.

From there, things went smoothly until I got to Amsterdam. Since I was flying on standby tickets, I wasn't guaranteed, nor given, a seat on the first flight to America. I had to wait six more hours until the next flight to try again. With a pocket full of rupees, I couldn't afford the airport pastries and panekoeken, but [luckily] it being Easter weekend, there were free chocolate eggs all over the airport to satiate my layover hunger.

I got cleared for the next flight, and before I knew it, 50 hours of travel time had passed and I found myself hugging my family for the first time in six months. I quickly rattled off some of my non-blog-appropriate stories assuming that I was only home for enough hours to shower and do laundry before flying to the Dominican Republic.

That assumption was wrong.

The HR contact with whom I'd been communicating while in India told me to look out for an email detailing packing and travel plans. My rapid departure didn't leave me much time on the internet, so I assumed that email would be waiting for me when I returned to Western civilization.

That assumption was wrong as well.

Without an email in my inbox, I called my HR contact within a few hours of arriving home. What ensued thereafter was one week of placing phones calls to her as she confused who I was, what I was hired for and where I was assigned. It became painfully clear that the job I raced home for was no longer available. Although I trust in the Universe and am fully aware that things do not always work out the way they're planned, I still entered some very dark days of reverse culture shock and disappointment.

At a certain point, I got annoyed with my depressive demeanor and peeled myself off my bedroom carpet to re-enter the world of the living. I was happy to discover that my weepy week with no appetite led to a re-entry into my size 25 skinny jeans as well.

(Silver linings.)

With a renewed determination to make the most of this situation, my skinny jeans and I decided to drive to my favorite coffee shop and restart the job hunt. Unfortunately, my new drive for liberation hit a minor road block as I turned on the car radio and heard John Mellencamp belting out how he's going to "prob'ly die in a small town." I shook my fist at the sky then changed the station to find Stevie Wonder singing about the "Joy Inside my Tears."

(Did I mention it was snowing? F*ckingsnowballf*ck!)

Aside from restricting myself from listening to the radio, my days have been occupied with applying and interviewing for new opportunities in Nebraska, the greater United States and Southeast Asia. I believe that the Universe must have brought me back to Lincoln for some enormous lesson. I'm not sure what that lesson is yet, but I think it may have something to do with patience, acceptance and trust.

And as for that job in the Caribbean...the HR woman finally called me back and offered to fly me to Florida to train me for another position with the company. The idea of getting out of my snowy small town was tempting, but I couldn't ignore the gut feeling that this company was not a good match for me. I gave the HR woman a non-violent empathetic piece of my mind and declined the offer. I realize the risk in turning down work in this economy, but I have to believe that something more aligned with my professional and personal vision is out there.

And even though everything feels like winter at the moment, as I look a little bit closer, I can see the definite emergence of Spring.

#hoping #wishing #praying