This blog has been too philosophical lately, and that’s not what it’s here for. It’s for awesome pictures of traveling and backpacking and mountains and stuff like that. So back to the regularly scheduled programming. 

UPCOMING TRAVELS:

On April 1st I’m flying to Amsterdam to meet up with my friend Maggie, who is currently studying abroad in Ireland. We’ll spend the next month on a whirlwind tour of Europe (I’ve waited so long to say that, you have no idea). We’ll be going to Belgium, France, Scotland, England and Ireland. 

I get back to Pittsburgh the last week of May.

The first week of June, I’m moving to northern Pennsylvania to work a trail building internship with the US Forest service. We’ll be working on a 100 mile section of the North Country Trail which runs through Allegheny National Forest. I’ll get mu Forest Service Chainsaw Certification! Can’t wait!

So that’s what’s up. I’ve got four more days in Olympia, and I’m ready for a break from this rainy city.

2:26 pm  •  16 March 2013

For those who see this blog, I posted a more full trip report about my time in India at the above link.

9:11 pm  •  10 February 2013

There is something about the pacific northwest. That quality you see in pictures of it: dark brooding evergreens interlaced with ghoulish fog. Cold nights and mountain shadows. It is real. That quality exists just as strongly in real life.

I was standing at the bus stop sunday evening and even though I was a stone’s throw from my apartment complex and a short walk from the dorms, just beyond the streetlights was black forest, probably filled with yetis and vampires. It was bitter cold but still wet. When I exhaled there was that strange, crushing feeling when the air leaves your lungs and rejoins the atmosphere as a puff of cloud. It was quiet, too, despite being just on the edge of a college campus and a few miles away from a city. There’s something about the forest here that feels empty. Most forests, at night or during the day, teem with life: squirrels hopping between trees, sunlight filtering through swaying branches, a deer flicking through brush. But here it is quiet. Black. Of course there is life. There are deer and rabbits and birds and vines and evergreens and otters. But it is quiet. Cold and wet and quiet and green and dark.

8:39 pm  •  19 January 2013  •  4 notes

I got back from India about a month ago. While I was in India, I traveled in two distinct ways and in two distinct places: trekking in the Himalayas in Northern India in clean air, stupendous mountain vistas, with 15 other lovely American students and a teacher. Then I took trains and buses with one friend through several cities and tourist areas in the more southern parts of India, down on the plains below the mountains which are generally more crowded, polluted, and pushy.

The mountains were indescribable. We learned about alpine environments in alpine environments. We climbed snow covered slopes amidst Christmas-tree scented rhododendron shrubs and herds of goats. We drank glacial melt. We slept under the stars. We partied with locals in a village over a hundred miles from the nearest road.

Traveling down into the plains was like descending into hell. I can’t explain a lot of what I saw. It seems strange to write down some of the things, inhumane in a way. I don’t know why. But bad things. Ways of life we would almost certainly consider cruel, inhuman, disgusting, unfair.

There were good things in the plains too, don’t get me wrong. Good people. Some beautiful landmarks- temples, bays, the Taj Mahal.

But all this time in India, I just absorbed what I saw, even the bad things. I kept thinking, people say India changes them but I feel the same. I felt like the same person. I still thought about the same things. I had imagined that when I arrived in India my previous interests would just be shut off. It was nothing like that.

It wasn’t until I went home that I felt shocked and confused. This is how India changed me:

I now pretty much feel like I love the United States. As in, capital L, I Love You United States and Westernized Civilization. I love your hot water. I love your grocery stores. I love that you don’t need signs on trains that say “no harassing female passengers”. I love that trash is taken to a landfill. Trust me folks, it’s not as bad as the some of the alternatives.

I love pizza. I love a quiet neighborhood. I love the clean air. I love toilet paper. I love washing machines and debit card readers and reliable internet. I love laws that are enforced. I love parking and traffic regulations. I love my bed. I love my couch. I love all these things because after seeing that millions of people live without them, I am sad that such a harder way of life continues, but reassured that these comforts still exist for me. I can’t help it. I consider myself a pretty frugal, reasonable person but I would never choose life like I saw in India over life in America. It’s just so much better.

And people can say there is no use making these comparisons. That telling someone a child is starving in Africa is a silly way to make them clean their plate because it’s all relative. That’s fine. But the fact is that a child is starving in Africa. And somewhere in northwestern India the city of New Delhi continues to crawl day and night with masses of people and cars and motorbikes and autorickshaws that spray pollution into the smog-filled skies. And somewhere on a mountainside in the Indian State of Uttrakhand a trash heap that covers a mountainside is still endlessly burning and smoldering like some Biblical version of hell. And somewhere in Goa the same homeless hungry man is still reaching his hand inside bus windows and grabbing at people for food or money. And people are still swatting him away or ignoring him, just like I did. These things are true. And maybe that’s an unfair way to make a kid finish their dinner. It’s not as if finishing your dinner helps that starving child. But it’s still something that exists. And it’s scary that it exists, but it does. And once you know it exists you can’t forget it. Can’t unsee it. Once it’s undeniable, you are forever making those comparisons in your mind without realizing it. And with this knowledge comes an overwhelming feeling of powerlessness in the face of poverty and chaos.

We have our own problems, I know, us in the western world. Low voting turnouts. Medical care. The stupid fiscal cliff. But I no longer see any value in the endless time and money consuming arguments we have over these things. They are closer in nature to watching the latest viral youtube video or buying a new Christmas outfit ; they are so very distant from the physical realities of life. Food. Clothes. Basic sanitation. Are fiscal cliffs and filibusters and Facebook and twitter truly the necessities, nay luxuries of the free world they claim to be? Are they really the best we can do with the wealth we have?

Maybe we in America and the west have earned the right to have these things. By the very virtue of our wealth, we have earned the right to spend it on the stupidest, lamest things imaginable, like campaign adverts or gin joints or guns or an Herve Leger dress or our own website. Maybe that’s the fairest way to look at it. 

We have real problems too. There is still crime here. There’s still social injustice. Of course there is still poverty too. But some of these are statistics we can compare, and by comparison we are doing a damn fine job.

And some of our money is spent on good things. Some of it goes toward stopping even more crime. Some of it goes to starving children in Africa and other places in the world. And sometimes buying that new Christmas outfit is… not necessary, but okay. I’m not saying America is completely wasteful. I just wish we were more aware of how lucky we are and more willing to admit that a lot of the time, our choices and possessions are unnecessary and luxurious. I wish we were more grateful of what we have. And not, It’s Thanksgiving and I’m thankful for my family and my dog, thankful. I mean, holy shit my life is so much easier and more awesome than so many other lives in the world. Look at the beautiful things I can consume and create and the time I have to appreciate all the beautiful things I’ve been given. We should feel overwhelmed, dare I say burdened, by how much we have.

So what do I conclude? I conclude that I don’t know. I conclude that the more I see the less I know. I conclude that seeing and knowing are important, but they don’t always lead to clarity or wisdom. Sometimes they just lead to sadness at the state of the world, and the inability to take hot showers for granted. On the other hand, maybe that is the wisdom I got from this trip. But I don’t know. I just don’t know.

EDIT 2/13: a caveat for if and when more people read this. I wrote this not too long after returning from India. To say the least, returning home was overwhelming and this essay is sort of, well, a downer. I don’t want people to think my time in India was a downer. I mean, I was in what are arguably the most incredible mountains on planet with like-minded individuals hiking and learning and generally absorbing every brilliant moment of living in such an environment. And we met tons of lovely and happy Indians. It was mostly life in the Indian cities and the culture shock of returning home that made me write something this depressing. This isn’t a retraction- what I wrote above is still true. But like everything, it’s just one perspective.

8:09 am  •  31 December 2012

2:36 pm  •  22 December 2012

(Written October 31, 2012)

Hi everyone. It’s been a mad, mad bunch of weekks since I last posted here. Again, forgive spelling grammar mistakes. This computer is terrible, to say the least.

I’m in the town of Ranikhet in the Himalayan foothills. I’ve spent the past four weeks trekking in various parts of Himalayan backcountry. We did two treks:

The first trek started in the town of Darchula, where I last had computer access. We trekked up into a valley (the Darma Valley) that has no road- the only transportation is pony and foot, so the culture is preserved in a way that is disappearing as the road winds further into the hills. We hiked up the valley over a two week period- no idea of the distance, maybe thirty or forty miles? The valley ended at a town called Dantu at the base of the Panchchuli mountain group, a stunning group of five snowy Himalayan peaks. We hiked to Panchchuli basecamp. We had cold nights and even a blizzard at Panchculi, and we got to experience alpine environments.
We stayed a few nights in a village called Nagling, where the ancestral head of the Darma valley lives- we stayed at his house, which is a beautiful complex of crumbling old Indian architecture. The people in the Darma valley are transhumant, which means they live up high in the summer and down lower in the winter. We stayed in their summer homes where they farm and pasture their animals, and which they would leave ina few weeks. We also encountered families traveling down with their herds of animals, chickens, clothes, and food strapped to their backs for the winter.
We hiked back out of the Darma Valley after 17 days and took a long jeep ride to the town of Munsyari, where we rested at a lodge, stocked up on snacks and took our midterm exam.
The second trek began directly from the lodge at Munsyari about ten days ago. For the past ten days we’ve hiked up, over, and back down various ridges surrounding the Johor valley. One day we hiked over a mountain pass and ascended about 4400 feet- almost a vertical mile. It was a difficult but amazing hike.
We finished the trek the day before yesterday at a river camp, and traveled to Ranikhet yesterday. In four days this study abroad program will end, and I have a month to travel India before I fly home.
My friend Philip and I plan to visit Rishikesh, Delhi and Agra the first week, then travel to the holy city of Varanasi for Diwali, the second biggest festival in India. Our loose plan after that is Mumbai and Goa.

The lifestyle we live as part of the Wildlands program is great. We have tea time twice a day, we camp almost every night and usually trek or day hike 6-15 miles a day. I’m more acclimatized to high altitudes than I’ve ever been. The highest we reached was a ridge by Panchchuli, which was about 14,000 feet. We had an incredible snowball fight on that hike, but the snow also made it one of the most treacherous hikes I’ve ever done.

Our teacher, Chris, is excellent. We have learned more in about a month than I usually learn in an entire quarter. Forest ecology, culture, natural history. We also have several local guides with us who are always willing to talk. 

Hope everyone on the east coast is safe from the hurricane.
Til next time.

9:52 am  •  22 December 2012

1:27 am  •  1 October 2012

Hello, friendly blog-readers. It’s been awhile.

If you haven’t heard, I’m flying to India on Sunday (the 23rd.)

Summer has been great. The lovely folks at Marty’s Market in the strip district hired me even though they knew I would be leaving for India in the fall, and I had a good time working for them in August and September.

But at last, it is almost the eve of my departure. I got a bunch of vaccinations and a visa stamped in my passports, but as far as expectations about India, I have done my best to keep the slate completely clean. I know that whatever I am going to experience is almost unimaginable to the person I am now, so instead I am going in with eyes and mind open.

Unfortunately I don’t have any witty and interesting anecdotes for this blog entry- most of my time lately has been spent working at Marty’s.

In a few days I will step onto a flight longer than any flight I have ever taken (which is actually saying something considering I’ve flown to New Zealand) and fly to the most foreign of worlds to live with 16 people I have never met. 

Right now, I’m scared. I don’t want to get malaria. I don’t want to get altitude sickness. I don’t want to get lost. I don’t want to be alone in India. I don’t speak any of the language. I don’t know if my ‘dressy’ outfit is up to the standards of polite Indian society. This trip feels more like stepping into an unknown void than anything I’ve ever done.

But I’m also excited, of course.

I also know that I’m insanely lucky, now more than ever. I’m only 20 and the list of awesome trips and experiences I’ve been able to have is disproportionately long for someone my age. That’s really all there is to say.

I will do my best to make some kind of update to this blog while I am in India (if only to assure my immediate family that I’m still kicking.) While it is unlikely I will have phone access, I have been told we will encounter internet cafes not infrequently. 

Today I’m loading up my pack one final time to make sure everything fits.

A few other notes:

I released a new album, My Mother’s Land, yesterday. It is the first music I have written, recorded, and liked since before I graduated high school. Have a listen at my bandcamp:

http://rebeccakambic.bandcamp.com

Second, this Saturday (the 22nd) is the Pittsburgh Maker Faire at the Children’s Museum on the North Side. Luke will be there with his handheld tesla coil, and I will be there as his sidekick. I would recommend checking out the Faire. It should be really interesting.

Last, I have compiled all of my creative endeavors into one internet filing drawer called http://rebeccakambic.com - mostly because Luke had his own website and I liked it so I wanted one too. From there you can access all my trip reports, music, videos, and travel photography. Someday when I’m unspeakably famous people will no doubt flock there, but for now it’s really just a fun design project for me.

That’s all for now. I’ll see you all on the other side.

6:42 am  •  21 September 2012

Life is really, really nice right now.

I had my final evaluation yesterday. My teacher, Clarissa, was pleased with my work and I got all my credits. Next year Clarissa is teaching a full year program about biology and geology in the southwest, and we discussed the possibility that when I return from studying abroad in South Africa winter quarter of next year, I can transfer into her program. If it works out, I could have the opportunity to return to our field work we began in the southwest this quarter, and raft down the Grand Canyon.

I’m really done with school now, and life is really, really nice.

I’ve made more excellent friends in the past two months than I have in the past six years. Clay, who introduced me to hitchhiking, inspired me to continue juggling, and allowed me to help him remodel his cave forest dwelling. Leah, who lives in a cabin on the sound where we live out our dharma bums fantasies of drinking wine and reading philosophy late into the night, going to sleep in a loft and washing our faces with dew in the morning. Kyla, Gray, Rachel, Gus, Claire- all amazing people I have met here, the right place at the right time.

I spent a few days this weekend living in Clay’s cave while he was away working for the Fish and Wildlife department. In the evening, we light candles and sit in the flickering light listening to the soft rain on the roof. In the morning, sun slants through the side door of the cave straight into the sleeping area, and we cook pancakes and eggy-in-a-basket on the coleman stove for breakfast.

Like I said, life is nice.

Tomorrow I’m having a pancake dinner/eat-all-of-Rebecca’s-food-because-she’s-leaving dinner at my place, and hopefully I’ll get to say goodbye to many of my friends from this quarter. I just got back from an end of the quarter get-together at my friend Ruth’s house. Before the party a group of us juggled in the park, and Clay gave me his juggling clubs.

This is very exciting for several reasons.

The first thing you notice about Clay (besides the beard and overalls) are his juggling clubs, which are red, blue and yellow. The first time I ever saw him he was juggling. The first day of class he was juggling these clubs. He bought them in Ecuador and decorated them himself. He carried them hundreds of miles on the southwest trip and backpacking in the Hoh Rainforest, in addition to his own travels around the world. Clay has been a juggling mentor for me the past few weeks, and he just bought seven new juggling clubs, so he decided to pass his on to me so I could continue learning. 

I return to the east coast on friday, and I am sad to see this program end. I and many of my friends are studying abroad in the fall, and some I will see when I return in the winter, but some will be away all year. I shall have to enjoy this niceness while it is here. 

Cheers, everybody. I hope life is nice for you too.

12:16 am  •  14 June 2012

It’s been a very nice couple of weeks since I got back from three weeks of camping and backpacking and adventuring.

My program is very interesting. We’ve been mixing lectures about water chemistry and photosynthesis with statistics, bioinformatics and data visualization lessons. We got all of the class data, GPS locations and photographs, of lichens and mosses together from the Grand Canyon hikes and put them into a google map so that future researchers there can reference their locations. 

We’ve also been examining water and moss samples taken from various locations in the southwest looking for tardigrades. We have found quite a few already, which is very exciting because only one other person has ever isolated tardigrades in the desert before, and they were working only in New Mexico.

Under the microscope, tardigrades look like this:

4:42 pm  •  27 May 2012