tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73233294910588829822012-02-16T20:15:56.805-08:00kittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskitties kittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskitties kittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittieskittiesPura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.comBlogger571100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-46397405815898321412011-01-06T17:49:00.000-08:002011-01-07T09:46:44.958-08:00

2010 was the year of the tiger and them kitties are supposed to keep away three things in Chinese lore: fires, thieves, and ghosts. I avoided all three! Almost. I did grill this sandwich on a fire: Que stellar, no? And that's not all! I also logged some magical hours at the Republic of San Francisco Bay Guardian, who has given me a cubicle, grammar lessons, and an editorship (uh-oh, job as an

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-55185184266016647532009-12-02T11:29:00.000-08:002009-12-02T11:30:25.224-08:00

My article made the cover of the San Francisco Bay Guardian today! Here's the link to the web version, although you should check out a copy of the print edition if possible, with photos by my man, Erik Anderson (here's an awesome one of Adelfo Antonio, a Swanton Berry farmworker I profiled, below): Out of Reach: How the sustainable food movement neglects poor workers and eaters - 12/2/09, SFBG

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-91130309923026246742009-12-01T19:24:00.000-08:002009-12-01T19:24:46.661-08:00

Hey gang! Wanted to update you with some of the pieces I've been working on. Here's a couple of the pieces I've had published in the San Francisco Bay Guardian's print edition: THA ARTICLES Public Screening: Three decades of posting the revolution with Mission Grafica - 11/11/09 On the history of a community silkscreen studio in the Mission District. Grafica has thirty years of Latino activism

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-15745886482845240622009-10-21T14:38:00.000-07:002009-10-21T14:38:36.501-07:00

(please note my transition to Guardian-style non capitalized headlines, I'm a total SFBG groupie) ... named Tavi Gevinson and as far as I can tell she's done not too much besides find mystical access to an endless closet (Lion, Witch and Wardrobe?) of grandma chic and written an addicting little blog about it.  Not so crazy, right?  Sure, the Huffington Post has started reporting on when she

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-88876199847221693262009-10-15T12:13:00.000-07:002009-10-15T12:13:41.524-07:00

Ahhh my little 'Pura Caitlin'... as I sit here eating chunks out of a sweet potato, typing up my article on Latino political agitation silk screens, I reflect on the days I would roll around in your html coding and frustratingly slow image uploads, spouting ad nauseum about... my day. We shall meet again. Someday I will update my blog as much as Strange Maps. In the meantime, how sick is the EU

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-68881843268662810852009-09-26T11:15:00.000-07:002009-09-26T21:53:01.277-07:00

Acme Coffee1431 SE 40thPortlandThe crazy thing about coming back to Portland is how much the place is evolving. Every time I touch down at my beloved PDX (best airport in the world, I'm sayin') and sniff the sweetness of the air up there, I get this crazy feeling that I have to see everything. Now. Otherwise I could lose the Portland pulse and not be hip to the game anymore, and that would

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-75121126639290309122009-09-22T14:46:00.000-07:002009-09-22T14:55:02.458-07:00

Who is Ariel Dovas? How can I blog-prentice to her? In San Francisco's hippest neighborhood, she is the hippest of them all. check out her latest blog-sterpiece. If only I had this knack for expressing the zeitgeists of our time.

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-11619599791316187502009-09-21T19:13:00.000-07:002009-09-21T19:24:50.697-07:00

I'll be like the Cheech & Chong of Siskel & Ebert!But seriously folks, here's my very first interview for the San Francisco Bay Guardian, with my editor's photo captions. Be forewarned: it is rated PG-13 and we spend time talking about Mr. T. But it's the beginning of big things, and I knew all the folks at home who are wondering what the devil I'm doing down here in San Francisco will

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-38552718645465811502009-09-15T16:28:00.000-07:002009-09-15T17:15:52.473-07:00

It was kind of cruel if you ask me. My manager Christian had an invitation to an "Exposicion Exclusivo de Mezcales Artisanales" (Exclusive Exposition of Artisan Mezcals) and he had tacked it to the bulletin board at work to stare at us as we boxed wings and breasts and potato salad. It was kind of like "look how cool I am, I go to exclusive booze fiestas. Don't you wish people wanted you to drink

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-52207627408893725462009-09-08T13:08:00.000-07:002009-09-08T14:38:03.744-07:00

Not sit-in or walk-out or picket line, but eat-in. An eat-in is my kind of protest. This is how we change the world, people: free food.Between my restaurant gig and a brief internship at Roots of Change, a local food sutainability organization, I've been spending a large chunk of my waking life immersed in the pleasures of a locally sourced diet.It's easy to do here, San Francisco kicks ass at

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-55671833202405846772009-09-07T02:18:00.001-07:002009-09-07T02:46:47.232-07:00

Erik scored some last minute tickets via Craig's List ("craigslist"? What is the proper grammerfication of that name? Ridiculous the amount of times I've had to use it in professional correspondence) to Mos Def and Erykah Badu's show at the Paramount Theater in downtown Oakland on Friday.And we can talk about the show. What do you know about Erykah Badu live? If there is a diva of our day, it is

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-35747743548063592632009-08-29T00:51:00.001-07:002009-09-03T10:59:45.865-07:00

And so it was that in the topsy-turvy mobius strip that is my life, I have arrived back at Frame #27: Working At A Cheesy Bar.It was innocuous enough. Take the register job at an organic chicken and waffles counter, bank on the hostessing shifts at the owners' nicer restaurant to turn into serving tables, this being the real money that will get me through these days of the "reimagination of

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-54107232417615655882009-08-21T10:50:00.000-07:002009-08-21T11:09:39.755-07:00

Just dropped a resume off at this place last week. Sorry, you'll have to copy and paste the link, my html literacy comes in jerks and spurts.http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/blogs/inmarin/detail?entry_id=45934&tsp=1#ixzz0Op6mSCMQLove the "I can just drop acid at Denny's for half the price" guy who commented. But really, I dig on a restaurant who takes an interest in the soul of it's employees.

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-64987067898901723202009-08-11T10:56:00.000-07:002009-08-11T11:54:00.887-07:00

You know it's a good weekend when you're still rocking and rolling on Tuesday. Really, there is no professional commitment we can't fill these days with a computer and mellow Wi-Fi spot, so Erik and I decided to take this show on the road.We left town on Friday and drove to out to meet Molly and Andrew at a magic Marin County campsite beneath some friendly redwoods. Did you know in California

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-73948297002172158872009-08-06T20:51:00.000-07:002009-08-07T13:57:12.626-07:00

My bike seat got stolen today. This is disconcerting. I mean, I've had stuff get stolen off the green Kona before. One time, somebody with absolutely no regard for my personal safety took my front and back lights in Portland while I was inside Hungry Tiger on SE 12th during dollar beer night. Low visibility + probable inebriation = dirty, dirty thief. Still, my seat? That's the keeper of precious

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-18898458074006102442009-07-29T18:55:00.000-07:002009-08-25T10:03:24.477-07:00

So we're kind of cruising along, me and America. Everyone's out of work, everyone's living in their parents' bedrooms, everyone's going to happy hour and skipping Friday night. No idea when this whole 'recession' thing is going to end. Peter Donohue, economist extraordinaire, tells me it's getting worse before it gets any better. Things are a little... up in the air, you might say.Erik and I

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-620618801879688892009-07-25T09:46:00.001-07:002009-07-29T10:14:58.094-07:00

Bourbon and Branch501 Jones St, San Francisco, CASo speaking of poor property retention skills, I've gone and lost my driver's license. Shocking.Last night we were out on the town with the Anderson/Shea clan and I had to pull some fast ones not to slow up the show. You know, bat the eyelashes, talk real fast and swish through the bar door before the bouncer knows what hit him. Bonus points if I

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-28713451368127254532009-07-24T11:32:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:20:52.043-07:00

"Do you know San Francisco?" The crackhead had trapped Erik and I in our MUNI seats, forced by politeness and morbid curiousity to listen to a twenty minute monologue surrounding the topics of cocaine, adultery and how awful he found the music of Johnny Cash.I'd say the answer is up for debate. Do I know San Francisco? Well, I know a lot about Jefferson Elementary School in the Sunset

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-49614911210427885512009-07-21T19:52:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:22:16.710-07:00

And so it goes. A mad dash (or so it felt) through that Oregon, over and done. Certainly, it was not without it's memories. Surprising no one, I've lost my camera again, so the photos that follow are all borrowed shots and throwbacks. Highlights of the life in the green:1. My 'welcome home' backyard barbeque- a week before I left again. A gentle outside, fed drunkeness with friends that begin to

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-67982812543404803502009-07-16T08:40:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:18:28.653-07:00

Portland, Dave Chappelle and Twitter. What do the three have in common? Well besides being cornerstone "Things White People Like," they are also how I spent my Tuesday night.I should clarify that I am not yet cool enough to Twitter. The texts started hitting my backyard barbeque around nine, their pattern of arrival arranging my friends and I along a hipness ranking system. (Katelyn got two, and

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-77980287324220941612009-07-11T10:30:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:19:30.470-07:00

This is a travel blog, I repeat to myself as I morosely stare at Pura Caitlin's stagnant screen. No one wants to hear about your naval gazing. Unless you're doing it in a rainforest with your life's possessions strapped to your back. Running from mosquitoes the size of pterodactyls. Or malicious Mayan spirits.But what I have been doing is stridently awesome, if not as blog-friendly as the gypsy

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-77521500962540279052009-07-03T09:22:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:20:26.287-07:00

That title should be followed up by one thousand exclamation marks because Portland, Oregon... oh Portland, Oregon. There is nothing like home, which you forget mightily when you are touring the globe because everywhere seems incredible, each new place an adventure mountain. But when you get home, I'm talking about home home, where every street is tagged with a memory and you run into your people

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-35586196744218105482009-06-30T12:15:00.001-07:002009-07-29T10:21:36.124-07:00

It feels good to be back. In the States, that is. Hung in San Fran for a few days, but was way too excited with flush toilets and feather mattresses to blog to you right away. And in short order, I was scooped up by Peter Donohue himself to go on a truly luxurious East Coast foray to visit Grandma and Aunt Sara.We flew Virgin Airlines cross country, in the first class cabin. The sensuous pleasure

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-35612231261951433192009-06-19T08:12:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:28:19.982-07:00

Cancun, Burning Man called and it wants it´s noise pollution back. Man, you should really let people know when they check into your overpriced hostel that their kickin´ air conditioning system will be augmented by a non-stop stream of ¨DOOF DOOF DOOF¨ into the wee and then the not-so wee hours of the morn.But that´s neither here nor there.So the last stop of the trip! I cannot believe that this

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-40571316000442382022009-06-12T07:46:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:28:42.872-07:00

The laguna our buddy Pete took us to on our epic Yucatan road trip. Glory be... Last camp of the trip. Please note our cinderblock table and improvised tree-shelf in the upper- right hand corner. He´s a man of many talents...If you´re going to quit eating all animals for a few months, a Mexican fish taco is a great way to break the fast. Eat them at your campsite´s thatched hut beach joint, where

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-73809986938203976432009-06-10T08:01:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:29:05.300-07:00

Chiapas, once you descend from the mountains where San Cristobol sits in it´s chic urbane sachet, is hot. Very hot. And humidity that likes to melt ladies of Celtic-Euro ancestry like yours truly.But it´s a pretty, if moist, descent into the jungles. Your colectivo passes you through the heart of tierra zapatista, past the community-run schools and the caracoles, the seats of pueblo power that

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-31655422504594088062009-06-04T16:55:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:29:48.361-07:00

Hey, do you like lychees? They are spikey, but you don´t eat the spikes, and inside you find a taut little white fruit that measures up within an inch of it´s spectacular outwardly appearance.Also, we are in San Cristobol de las Casas. It was here that the Zapatistas, the Chiapan-Mexican rebel group (popularily referred to as the ¨first postmodern revolutionaries¨) took over from the national

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-21850203538765258212009-06-01T17:06:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:30:48.166-07:00

"Semuc! Semuc!" Not knowing how the hell we'd make it out to the Semuc Champey National Park, Erik, Carrie, Chris and I had wandered out to the driveway of our hostal looking for... something. And something we most certainly found. A camioneta, the small trucks that serve as mass transit for Guatemala's rural (are there any other kind?) regions, was revving it's motor right out in front. Like it

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-51929745092149653692009-05-26T08:47:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:31:27.203-07:00

All too often on this trip I feel like I haven´t been ¨extreme¨ enough. When is my six day jungle trek? It´s been nearly seven months of backpacking (!), whaddayamean I haven´t rappeled down a waterfall yet or gotten a tattoo? I know I shouldn´t get down on myself but hell, you see these people´s Facebook albums... you start to question one´s commitment to ADVENTURE.Well I got those nagging

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-33497003472189657582009-05-18T11:07:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:50:15.236-07:00

A few notes on the history of Guatemala (completly and totally swiped from the ¨Culture¨ section of my Footprint Central America guidebook), interspersed with my shots of it´s people and their miraculous textiles:-Guatemala is comprised of two broad social/ethnic groups: ladinos, or those who speak Spanish and wear modern, ¨Western¨ clothing and the indigenos, who adhere to the tounge and customs

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-30470158212684023272009-05-15T12:20:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:33:47.604-07:00

After four countries in a week, it was time for some R & R.I´d heard about the yoga schools of Lake Atitlan, up in the western highlands of Guatemala, way back in November, and promised myself that if I stopped this way, I´d partake. Actually, the school my friend had told me about was Las Piramides, a residencial complex on the lake which offered ¨metaphysics¨classes and a ¨Lunar Course¨ending

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-3790300655998807962009-05-11T13:22:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:32:55.030-07:00

You can´t get much farther from Oregon than Miami without leaving the country. Its not just a distance on the map, either, but a very real gut change.We zoomed in straight from Bogota, so you better believe there was some airport security to be encountered. Erik and I, at this point in our lives, look like some dirty hippies and that, coupled with the fact we were containing a sarong-cum-hobo-bag

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-16094651368859794042009-05-07T07:04:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:34:51.954-07:00

Dipped back through Quito and headed straight for the whore house. Now don´t get any ideas. Hostal Sucre, at $5 a night for a double room, rises up above it´s filthy walls and lecherous help based on sheer financial felicity... at least for broke backpackers. Erik sat and picked at his beard in the dirty mirror on the wall opposite our bed as church bells from the Monastery of San Francisco

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-50485284942358053152009-05-01T10:12:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:35:50.607-07:00

Taking it easy in Canoa. Hammock, big fruity juices, bodysurfing.This town is nice, the kind of nice that makes me unpack my backpack completly and start pumping restaurant owners about job opportunities. I hear it´s been in the 40´s for the past couple weeks in Portland, so for my web-footed friends up in the Pac NW, suck in the ambient warmth from the next couple paragraphs.Canoa is on the

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-48876517265043162412009-04-25T07:10:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:50:43.362-07:00

Rolled from up north into Quito, the country´s capital, this week and was thrust suddenly into a big, soupy political to-do. Ecuador´s presidential election is on Sunday and if the standard deluge of sign wavers and billboard ads isn´t enough to pull people´s attention fully onto the race for prez, the sale of alcohol has been banned for the three days leading up to voting.But dearth of booze has

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-8312957542826221362009-04-22T16:28:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:36:41.722-07:00

Our last stop in the land of Locumbia was San Agustin, a land of green hills sprinkled with enigmatic statues from a lost civilization we know nothing about. We spent our time picking country roads at random to wander down. Day One took us past the front yard of this small, shriveled gentlemanwho hijacked our leisurely stroll to share a cup of coffee and fistful of toasted coca leaves. Perhaps

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-84650796142925438462009-04-17T09:27:00.001-07:002009-07-29T10:37:25.509-07:00

We didnt know much about Desierto de Tatacoa. Its not in my Lonely Planet South America, for one, and no other backpackers we d crossed paths with had tipped us off to it. We found a passing reference to incredible star scapes and free camping by an observatory, so we jumped a bus south from Bogota.After arriving late and setting up our hammocks in the dark, we awoke to this.This is the Labyrinth

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-51428050809652593722009-04-12T21:41:00.001-07:002009-07-29T10:38:11.314-07:00

So remember when I told you I was a common criminal now? Check out the Bogota graff scene and tell me I had a choice in the matter.Wild, right? So here´s my tag, courtesy of my artist-in-residence, Erik. Pretty, right? Hope Mom agrees. Flying high in Colombia...

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-57991035593184517262009-04-12T12:55:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:38:55.109-07:00

I´m simply covered in Jesus. We´ve been hanging all week, we´re buddies now.We´re in Villa de Leyva for Holy Week. It´s a tiny town up in the mountains north of Bogota, one of the oldest settlements in the country and still the proud bearer of all it´s original colonial architecture. The town plaza dates back to 1527 and is the largest cobblestone space of it´s sort in the entire continent. The

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-82911122189473914492009-04-11T12:55:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:39:33.916-07:00

Friends! Hostelling International just threw up a Pura Caitlin shout-out. Check it out, its a Portland based travel website.http://www.hipostcards.wordpress.com/.We re like an underground railroad of hypeness, just wait.

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-10767700734778928442009-04-05T09:33:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:40:10.179-07:00

On a whim, the gang hit the Transmilenio to Zipaquira. The Transmilenio deserves a quick shout out here. It´s Bogota´s ultra-efficient commuter rail system, big long buses that run on their own sections of street and stop only at above ground, subway-like kiosks. They are super and put to shame the busetas, the short buses which granted are owner-operated but can, shall we say, tax the patience

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-88557677389165183902009-03-30T13:39:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:45:57.394-07:00

Every wall in Bogota is covered in art. Stencils of the Notorious B.I.G. and machine guns turning into flowers. Sketches of faces done in one continuous line of pink spray paint. Long stretches of collaborative mural, looping colors bending back into themself and leaping cats and paint explosions and missives from the artists themselves... en fin, artes en todas partes.I dig it here in a big way.

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-81031966800829384522009-03-25T12:29:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:46:42.359-07:00

I´m far enough into this trip that travel has ceased to be a vacation and has begun to be just a really, really awesome job.I can breathe easy now. We´re up in the clean, high altitude air of the verdant Colombian mountains. I´m surrounded by the coffee farms and shockingly tall palm trees in the departmento of Quindio.We came up here on a half-remembered tip from a fellow traveler and I´m not

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-41986639677021682992009-03-18T16:25:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:47:27.378-07:00

I know it´s bad for me. But I´m in Colombia, and it´s practically the national pastime. And so cheap! You can get it on any corner. Too bad it leaves you feeling like crap afterwards...Colombian street food. My least healthy addiction to date.You would not believe the amount of sales that go on in this country. There´s vendors on every corner, clogging up city center and posted out on the most

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-7104767823505659592009-03-13T15:49:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:48:11.975-07:00

I´ve never seen a city like Medellin. A brick wonderland, cupped by a big, green valley where the slum barrios rise up on all sides of the wealthy central area, completly flaunting the way these things are usually organized. It´s the second biggest city in Colombia, and my Lonely Planet guide tells me it used to be the world´s cocaine trafficking capital. Kind of makes you wonder which lucky

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-64373621681329521552009-03-11T15:44:00.000-07:002009-07-29T10:48:39.233-07:00

Cartagena is like a big box of watercolor paints. Plus, we are well protected from pirates.See, back in the day Cartagena de la Indias was the plunder point for the conquistadors, where they stashed all their ill-gotten gains stolen from the indigenous folks around here. I suppose what goes around comes around, because once Sir Francis Drake and his pirate ilk got word of all the easy booty,

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-22574297561316030362009-03-03T10:43:00.000-08:002009-07-29T10:49:08.189-07:00

And so it was that I shouldered my carry on bag and headed into the jungle. Parque Nacional Tayrona, as you may have deciphered from my last entry, was way too photogenic for just a day trip. Courtney, Erik, Pat and I stored 90% of our belongings at our hostel in Taganga, stocked up on water and strode into the wilderness for a few days this week to experience what more we could of this big,

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-8287807849533249672009-02-27T12:32:00.000-08:002009-07-29T10:49:46.953-07:00

This is me right now, loving Colombia. We´re in Taganga, a tiny town up north where goats roam the streets and you can buy a meal that will feed a hungry, discerning person for $2 involving fried plantains and shredded fish.Yesterday we took a motor boat so small it was silly out to Parque Nacional Tayrona. We saw flying. fish. I thought those only existed in certain Super Mario games, but hey,

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-7977729680432368782009-02-25T06:14:00.000-08:002009-07-29T10:51:26.388-07:00

Holy moly, you know what is crazy? Carnaval is crazy. A festival that happens just about everywhere in the Latin American world, Carnaval is the final blowout for Catholics before the sobriety and sacrifice of Lent. Although prude colonial authorities crushed the bigger celebrations of Carnaval in the 18th century, mid size and smaller town were left alone to get all wacky and debaucherous and

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-43755819358849128852009-02-19T14:43:00.000-08:002009-07-29T10:52:22.938-07:00

I finally left the Luna´s Castle/Mondo Taitu vortex today. It was sad to say goodbye, but my early morning flight did give me some time to think about a certain exchange some unknown defecators graffitied out on our ¨random trivia¨wall in one of the bathroom stalls at Luna´s:¨Did you know that 90% of American travelers spend most of their time in their hostel?¨¨Obviously you had to be spending

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-15094433029073611772009-02-13T15:41:00.000-08:002009-07-29T10:52:51.527-07:00

Speed-walking down Cerro Anchon, the jungle-covered hill with great views of Panama City's Easter egg colored projects and the brick roofs of Casco Viejo, Molly and I saw a friggin' armadillo. A. Goddamn. Real life. Not stuffed or cartoon or caged. Armadillo. I was born in Texas and I've never seen an armadillo before.It ran under a bunch of brush before we got a real satisfying look at it, so we

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-80985838711035225452009-02-11T10:37:00.000-08:002009-07-29T10:53:25.067-07:00

It's crazy, but Panama City starts to feel like home. Kind of surprising, really, that out of all the stopovers on this wild ride, PanaMAH is where I wound up hanging my hat for a spell.It's crazy because of the streets that alternate between smelling like fish and urine, the crackheads who try to sell you broken wine glasses on the corner, the high decibel perverts in passing cars and the

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-14088918960580109292009-02-10T11:47:00.000-08:002009-07-29T10:54:09.468-07:00

From bottom to top:Climbing up the strangler fig tree in Monteverde, Costa Rica (visit #1)I heart colored zinc in the land of surf, Mal Pais, Costa RicaCraazy mushrooms in the Orchid Garden, Monteverde (visit #2)San Jose Contemporary Art Museum, Costa Rica

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-10979749624588168342009-02-08T11:03:00.000-08:002009-07-29T10:54:36.521-07:00

Clearly, I couldn't make it out of Bocas without some collateral damage. Lost my digital camera (already #2 of the trip!) on my last night out... devil, I'm telling you. Luckily, the one photo I'd managed to download is pretty appropos of this blog post. Here's Tomo, my beloved Aussie coworker holding his not one or two but three to-go beverages from the bar in the wee hours of 80's power hour

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-65519686162114724502009-02-02T16:04:00.000-08:002009-07-29T10:55:17.487-07:00

The rest of my trip was cool too. A smattering of photos, one from each destino. Look at them from the bottom up cause for some technological failing on my part they're backwards.Bottoms Up:San Francisco- Nick Drashner thinking road trip deep thoughts on the Twin Peaks.San Jose- Just a little color explosion in the most unremarkable big city ever.Cahuita- Big Boy polishes his conch during

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-77414034215996414252009-02-01T09:58:00.000-08:002009-07-29T10:55:48.312-07:00

So I'm staying in Bocas another week. Erik and I had our backpacks on, had already said goodbye to everyone at the hostel under the sun, when I get the last minute wheeling and dealing from Dave, one of the spectacular owners. Stay on as a promoter? Free rent, bar tab and family dinners and live Bocas del Toro for 16 hours of work a week? I had paddled back into to shore so... close, but the

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7323329491058882982.post-84967119821228178782009-01-30T10:52:00.001-08:002009-07-29T10:56:18.505-07:00

This is amazing. How come I´m not writing it down? And if a hammock eye´s view of a deserted beach in a Panamanian island archipelago won´t conjure those thoughts, than I don´t know what will.See, I meant to start a blog when I started my Latin American journey ten weeks ago, when I first touched down in San Jose, Costa Rica. But if you know projects, and if you know Caitlin, you know they tend

Pura Caitlinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05450486564412190194noreply@blogger.com0