Posted on

Computer: Check!

Finding a good travel laptop can be a difficult thing. You want something that is small, light, durable, has great battery life, and enough inputs to help you around the world. Oh, and cheap. We previously posted about trying to find a good travel laptop ever since we decided we were definitely going to take one. Well, I think we’ve found what we’ve been looking for, so take note if you’re in the same boat. It is actually a laptop we did not even consider in our first roundup (due to it not even being announced at the time and all).

Last year Asus released the eee pc, a small 7″ notebook for $400 that ran linux and basically was only good for accessing the internet. We mentioned in our previous post the myriad of reasons these would not work for us. They’re tiny, but that means tiny screens, cramped keyboards, poor battery life, no computing power. Turns out, this year companies are busy putting out slightly larger (and thus much more comfortable), substantially more powerful “netbooks.” There’s a larger eee pc, the HP Mini-Note, the Acer Aspire One, and the MSI Wind that have all come out in the last few months, and Dell is releasing one soon. They’re useful because they provide *just* enough power at a great price point, and we chose what I thought was the best of the bunch, the MSI Wind. The Wind has a 10″ screen (with 1024*600 resolution) and weighs just over two pounds (and the computer feels quiet durable), so already it fits those important criteria. Here it is lined up with my 13″ Macbook to give you an idea of just how small it is.

But its the fact that its pretty much a full-fledged computer otherwise that makes it really appealing. It has an Intel Atom processor, 1 GB RAM, 80 GB hard drive, SD card reader, webcam, 3 USB ports, and a “big size” keyboard. I’m typing on it right now and am not feeling cramped, Theresa’s small hands will probably find it perfect (I guess she’ll let you know when she gets around to playing with it). It runs Windows XP very well (and ambitious people have gotten OSX 10.5 running on it with little issues). The only downside so far is that it only comes with a 3 cell battery that lasts 2 hours or so, though there is supposed to be an add on 6 cell battery that will last 4-5 hours. Put those together and the computer should last 7 hours or so.

So we found what we’re looking for, a lightweight, long battery life computer that we can use to keep up with email, write on the blog, use skype, do light photo editing, and other odd things. The best part of it is yet to come though … the price. The MSRP for these is $499, which is way less than we were anticipating spending. This is useful both in saving money, and keeping us from over-worrying about the safety of our equipment all the time. $500 is a lot of money, but a $500 laptop is way more replaceable than a $2000 one. So overall, I’m highly pleased with what this computer can do, though we’ll have to test it out some more to be sure, and I think I’ll be even more pleased when I’m the one hauling it around the world.

So if you’re looking for a good travel laptop, take a look at these types of laptops. All of the brands I mentioned above are in the $500-700 range, they all have 8-10″ screens, and all are powerful enough for your everyday tasks. I went with the Wind because of the specifications at a lower price, but they all looked pretty useful and effective to me.

Posted on

On My Way to Unemployment

JOB

Pronunciation: \‘jōb\
Function: noun
Etymology: perhaps from obsolete job lump
Date: circa 1627

1a: a piece of work; especially : a small miscellaneous piece of work undertaken on order at a stated rate
2c: a damaging or destructive bit of work
3a: something that has to be done; an undertaking requiring unusual exertion

(Excerpted from Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary)

***************************************************

Come August 28, the etymological root of job will not be the only things that is obsolete; my days as an editor at the Smithsonian American Art Museum will also be. On Monday, I gave notice, and boy does it feel good to have that off my chest. It’s been tough sitting in meetings about projects that everyone but me thought I’d be working on.

Am I sad? No, not really.

Much too frequently my job has been “a piece of work,” and the “stated rate” has been far too low. On occasion, it’s been “damaging and destructive,” making me want to tear out my hair or give someone a good piece of my mind (if only I were confrontational). And almost always, it’s been “something that has to be done,” not something I get excited about doing.

But of the three jobs I’ve had since I came home from Greece, it was probably the best. Being an editor is something I enjoy. I like working with words, trying to find the gem that is usually hidden inside a lot of junk and polishing it until it shines. I like working with authors and designers and publishers. I have friends at work whom I will miss. I am well-liked by my boss (which did make the notifying her of my intent to leave kind of awkward as all the “I’m so lucky to have had yous” made it feel a little too much like we were breaking up instead of sorting out my resignation). And I had the privilege of working for an esteemed institution, and I can’t deny that having Smithsonian Editor on my resume probably helped open a few doors in the writing world (and will hopefully continue to do so).

What I don’t like is the bureaucracy of working for the federal government. I don’t like having co-workers whose most common refrain is “That’s not my job.” I don’t like having to go to work and sit all day at a desk on days when there is absolutely nothing to do. And I hate that hard work isn’t rewarded while whining is.

But why linger on that? I have less than 30 working days left. Then it’s off to Sweden and then the world.

As we prepare to leave, I have no need to think of where I will end up next, but I can’t help but ponder it every now and then. At this point, I’m seeing myself moving into the world of freelance—editing, writing, etc. I’ve given the office space world the old college try, but I just don’t think I’m cut out for it. But who knows, maybe after a year of complete freedom, I’ll miss the working world. It will be interesting to see how my perspective changes over the course of this coming year. Will I come back even more determined not to return to the 9-5? Or will I long for the routine of office life? What do you think?

I’m putting my money on option one.

Posted on

Seven Good Reasons We Shouldn’t Take This Trip

1. The American economy is tanking, and it’s a deep, deep pool. Where people gladly took dollars, they now sneer at our greenbacks and demand local currency or Euros. Everything is more expensive than it was just a year ago.

2. America isn’t winning the World’s Most Popular Country competition. In fact, we were eliminated in the first round, not even getting a chance to show off our star-spangled bikini. People dislike and distrust America. We’re going to have to constantly defend our country, or at least listen to a lot of criticism.

3. Jeff’s just finishing his PhD in Neuroscience and the traditional next step is to move directly into a post-doc. Some labs might not look kindly on him being away from the science world for a year. Not all science nerds understand that there is life beyond the lab.

4. I have a permanent federal job. To a lot of people in DC, this is equivalent to winning the lottery. It’s practically impossible to fire me, and if I stay in my job, at age 50, I’ll have put in enough years to get a full federal pension. And these days pensions are as rare as flying pigs.

5. I’m about to get some good projects at work and I’m up for a promotion, which I’m likely to get. Considering I haven’t so much as gotten a free cupcake at my work, this is the big time.

6. The airline industry is in shambles. We could be dealing with a lot of hassles as airlines go under, merge, and lose baggage at an even more astounding rate than normal.

7. Moving is a pain. The boxes, the deciding what to keep and what to get rid of, the driving of a monstrous truck 500 miles, the bribing people with pizza to help you carry your couch, the discovery of God only knows what under furniture you haven’t cleaned under in four years… We have a good apartment and good friends, and we’re perfectly content not knowing what lies between the counter and the stove. Staying put would be much, much easier.

But still, there’s one good reason—a reason that trumps all reasons—why we should take this trip:

Nothing but this moment is guaranteed.

We are not promised tomorrow. We are not promised five years from now. We are not promised eighty years. Hopefully we make it to all of those milestones, but I’m not going to wait and see. Instead, I’m going to live for today.

And if I do make it to 50, 65, 80, 100, then I’ll have a darn good time sitting on my front porch talking about all the adventures I had rather than dwelling on all the things I wish I had done. Unless I’m still out having adventures, which is, of course, the plan.

Posted on

A Pain in the Arm and the Wallet

I type this with a right arm that’s a little bit sore, and a left arm that’s not too bad off, but wouldn’t be happy if you gave it a friendly punch. This morning Jeff and I accomplished one of the big to-dos on our list: we got vaccinated. In an earlier post, we invited you to vote on what vaccinations we should receive. And you should be pleased to know that we listened … for the most part.

I can now say that we are vaccinated against Polio, Tetanus, Meningitis, and Yellow Fever. We are 1/3 of the way towards being vaccinated against Japanese Encephalitis. And we have a pack of Typhoid pills hanging out in the refrigerator, and by the end of next week, we’ll be vaccinated against it too. So yes, we got 5 shots in the arm today, and we have two more to go. Fortunately, we’d both already been vaccinated against Hepatitis A & B, so we could forgo that one, and we passed on the Rabies. Although, to be fair, we didn’t have a choice. The rabies vaccine is in short supply right now and is being restricted to those who have actually been bitten. I can’t help but say I’m a little pleased by this, because it means I didn’t have to make a decision.

In addition to all the vaccines, we have a mountain of prescriptions waiting to be filled: two different types of malaria pills, anti-diarrheal pills, and general antibiotics.

We also have two bound books filled with information specific to our trip.

That makes me feel a little bit better about the office visit fee, and to be fair, we were there for an hour and a half, and they were very friendly, helpful, and knowledgeable. They were also more than a little blown away by our plans. I think they thought we were a little loony. (She did double check with us that we didn’t have any known psychological issues when going through our medical history forms.)

As for the answer to the question you’re all wanting to ask—what it all cost—well my friends, the answer is $1,263. And finishing off the Japanese Encephalitis vaccines will cost us another $540.

For those unable to do math, that’s a whopping $1,803. (You can see how that breaks down in the Details section of our site.)

It’s a phenomenal amount of money when you consider that what we got out of it is some sore arms and the possibility of feeling like we have the worst case of flu ever (that’s a direct quote from the doctor, but so far, so good).

But it’s a tiny amount of money when you consider that it will go a long way towards keeping our brains from exploding, our jaws from locking, our limbs from paralyzing, and our organs from failing.

In the end, you were right. You can’t put a price on your health, and I’m fairly certain that my life is worth more than $901.50.

******

Next on the to-do list in regards to health:

1. Make a decision on health insurance policies.
2. Get life insurance.

Posted on

Trivia

In honor of us heading to to pub quiz tonight instead of doing all the things we need to do, see if you can get the trivia questions that we couldn’t get (and a couple we guessed right on). No cheating now kids (google, for our purposes, is not your friend!). We’ll post the right answers in the comments soon.

1. What river is the only river to flow in both the northern and southern hemispheres?

2. What country has the largest man-made waterfall?

3. What European capital’s name means “Merchant’s Harbor”?

4. What country in Europe has the longest continuous royal family?

5. What city is still threatened by Mt. Vesuvius?

6. What country was Elvis stationed in in 1958?

7. In what country do they drive on both the left and right side of the road?

Post your guesses/answers in the comments, and we’ll post the right answers in due time, though surely you’ll have them all answered before then!

Posted on

Bhutan Comes to America

Today the Smithsonian Folk Life Festival came to a close, and in lieu of a written post, we’re going to have an almost silent Sunday here at Lives of Wander, letting a few photos from the Bhutan part of the festival do the talking for us. I think that this small taste of Bhutan (and taste we did literally, eating their national dish of Ema Datsi) only has us wanting more. Here’s hoping our next post about Bhutan is titled America(ns) Come to Bhutan.


Posted on

Top Ten U.S. To Dos

In honor of the birthday of our great nation, we thought we’d pay tribute to its many fine sights. As we peruse guidebooks looking for the best each country has to offer and as we beg friends, family, and even strangers for their top suggestions of what to do in the countries they’ve visited or lived in, we’ve stopped a few times to wonder how would we answer that question ourselves. If someone was coming to the U.S. for the first time and they wanted to know the top ten things they should do (without regard to time or money restraints), what would we suggest?

Here’s where we’d suggest a visitor to our country start.

10. Vermont. An odd choice to begin with but surely one of America’s best kept “secrets.” As they say, Vermont is what New England used to be. Visit the only kingdom in America (the region known as the Northeastern Kingdom), which is further claimed as what Vermont used to be. The pioneering American spirit remains strong here. Marvel at Lake Willoughby nestled in mountains, head to the Lake Champlain (the “sixth” great lake) and its many islands, and for laughs, tour the iconic Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream factory (free sample included).

9. Attend a solidly American sporting event. Catch a game of baseball at Wrigley Field or Fenway Park. Brave the cold and the cheeseheads in Green Bay. Join the drunken herds in the infield of the Indy 500. Or don your best hat and bet your bucks at the Kentucky Derby.


8. Hawaii. The last state is also one of the most fascinating. It’s obviously well known for its gorgeous beaches, great golf courses, rainforests and waterfalls, and overall relaxing atmosphere, so enjoy those to the fullest. But also venture to the island of Kauai to immerse yourself in the native Hawaiian culture. Head to the Big Island and hike out to mere feet from an active lava flow, or climb to the top of Mauna Kea and gaze at one of the clearest views of the heaven’s available on earth.

7. Denver, Colorado and the Rocky Mountains. Home to world class skiing. Not winter? Make that world class mountain climbing. Gorgeous scenery abounds at every turn, but especially at Red Rocks, Garden of the Gods, and in southwestern Colorado, the cliffside Native American ruins at Mesa Verde. Throw in river rafting, rock climbing, snowmobiling, and so on, and the area holds many more outdoor experiences than any one trip (or less than a lifetime) can handle.

6. Go a state fair, preferably in the midwest. There’s something quintessentially American about a state fair. Livestock shows and rodeos. Sculptures made of butter or cheese or other perishable products. Quilts and homemade pies and the state’s largest watermelon. Funnel cakes and midway rides, country music stars, and racing pigs. What’s not to love?

5. Alaska. Now, this is one we ourselves haven’t yet been to, but it’s at the top of our list, and it just seems too amazing to leave off. Sail among glaciers, watch grizzlies gorge themselves on salmon, see the Northern Lights dance across the sky, spot whales surfacing in the icy water, scale the nation’s tallest peak. It’s a fantastic landscape, completely different from that found in the rest of the U.S.

4. Washington, D.C. No city has more monuments per square foot than DC. Steep yourself in all the political history you can handle, visit the Capitol, the National Archives, the White House. Throw in a fantastic array of free museums catering to every taste (and plenty more cool ones you can pay for) and you’re easily entertained for days.

3. The Grand Canyon. It’s the classic American vacation, the veritable pilgrimage every American makes, peering over the South Rim at the vast landscape. But go beyond that, make the effort to head down to the Colorado River, you know, the thing that carved that giant hole. Hike up side canyons to waterfalls. Examine the layers of rock you pass as you climb back out. It’s a marvel for good reason.

2. Drive Highway 1. Explore the best of the Golden State from this famed roadway, passing some of the most magnificent stretch of coastline in America. See movie stars and elephant seals, towering redwoods and the cliffs of Big Sur. Take some time out to explore Los Angeles, and then hop on a street car to check out the city of San Francisco.

1. New York City. There isn’t another place like it in the world. Stroll through Central park, shop in SoHo, write in your journal in Greenwich Village, eat in one of the many ethnic neighborhoods, walk across the Brooklyn Bridge at night, take a ferry ride out and around the Statue of Liberty, peer out at it all from the Empire State Building, tour the Met or the MoMA, and just walk, walk, walk until you can’t go another step.

That would be our top ten recommendations. What are yours?


Posted on

Mission Impossible: Planning the South America Itinerary

Your mission, dear readers, should you choose to accept, is to determine how we will spend our time in South America. (You didn’t think we were just going to let you visit our blog and not do any work, now did you?)

You will need to keep the following in mind:

1. We will have approximately 22 weeks. Though we don’t have exact dates yet, for now we will assume the dates to be October 19 through March 21.

2. In this time period, we would like to visit: Nicaragua, Venezuela, Brazil, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Chile, and Argentina.

3. We must start in Nicaragua.

4. We must end near a major airport with international flights.

5. We must be in Peru (on the Inca Trail to be exact) the last week of December/first week of January.

6. Things that we are intent on doing include: the Inca Trail (4 days + acclimation period in Cusco), Roraima in Venezuela (5 days), Spanish lessons in Granada, Nicaragua (1 week), the Galapagos (7-10 days), hike the Circuit or W in Torres del Paine in Patagonia, Chile (5-7 days), Amazon tour [unsettled on location–Peru, Bolivia, Brazil–you pick] (4-7 days).

7. We would like to minimize flights/optimize overland transport, while at the same time not burning days and days on travel.

So what do you got? Is there just absolutely no way for us to fit all of this in or is this entirely doable?

Post your best attempt at an itinerary in the comments. It can be as basic as Weeks 1-3 Nicaragua or as detailed as Day 1: Arrive in Managua, Transfer by bus to Granada. (We would seriously owe you if you did that!). Whoever ends up closest to our actual itinerary (as lived out by us, not planned by us) could win a prize. (Then again, they also could not… And then again, I could just mail you a postcard and call that the prize…)

Now that Jeff and I have given notice to our landlady that we’re moving out in two months (!!!!), this is our next big project, and let me tell you, it’s not as easy as it should be. There’s always “what about this” or “well if we went this way, then we could…” And yes, yes, we hear you about not over planning, leaving room for spontaneity, etc. We will, we will. We just want to have some kind of rough itinerary planned out. Maybe we’ll get going and toss it out the bus window. Or maybe we’ll stick to it like peanut butter on jelly (ewww…have I ever mentioned that I have never eaten that very weird food combo…). Only time will tell. For now, give us your best shot.

Come on, you just know you want to tell us where to go.

Posted on

A Welcome Day Off

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll know that we’ve had a busy summer. If not, welcome, we’ve had a busy summer. I am trying to finish my graduate thesis, with all the experimenting, writing and bureaucracy that entails. Theresa has been working full time and writing full time putting together a hiking guide to DC. So on the weekend we actually go on these hikes so she’ll have something to write about during the week. Needless to say, there’s not a lot of time in between for us.

In fact, since we went on vacation with Theresa’s family toward the end of May, we have not had a single day not spent entirely either at work or on a mountain hiking (before that, it was I don’t even know how long). Needless to say, today was a welcome change to all that. We had set a goal of two ten mile hikes for the weekend, and got them both in on Saturday (minor aside: two more bear sightings to add to the total, including one that must’ve been 40 feet up a tree … it quickly rappelled down and ran off … so that’s why they tell you not to climb a tree to escape a bear).

Our prolific Saturday left all of Sunday off, no major trips to make, no major jobs to accomplish. We just were able to have a normal weekend day like we used to. We slept in. We made chocolate chip waffles and bacon for breakfast. We read the Sunday paper. We made our first (and possibly only) trip to the pool. We even got to spend a little time planning our trip. Who would’ve thought, crazy. But the joy of it was we had the freedom to wake up when we chose and decide what we wanted to do that day.

And so we got to talking about how soon, this would be every day. Sure, we’ve got grand goals and buses and flights to catch, but we’ll wake up every morning with complete freedom. To lay around if we want. To go somewhere if we want. To not have drastic future consequences either way. No deadlines. No requirements. Just where we are now, where we want to go and where we want to be at the end of the day. It sounds so liberating, and ultimately, a big reason why something like a round the world trip appeals so much to us.

But this actually led us back to something we discussed long ago in our planning, and I think today reinforced its importance. We both have something wrong with us, in that when we have the freedom to choose ourselves, we end up busier than ever. When we travel, we both have a tendency to try to do as much as we can in as little time as we can, usually due to the fact that we have a short amount of time and a lot of things we want to see, but is also just our nature. Such nonstop busy-ness becomes unsustainable after a short while, especially on such a long trip. I guess you could say this is our first marathon after a number of short sprints. So we need to learn to pace ourselves.

We decided it would very important to regularly take a day and do nothing out of the ordinary. Sleep in, wander to the market, sit in a hammock and read a book, take a short walk. Recharge. Today was a fine example. We’ve been feeling exasperated, hopeless against the piles of things we need to do, even as we furiously work to do them. But we spent just one day escaping from it and it feels more manageable. Not do-able, mind you, just more manageable. One day a week (or so) where we make it a goal not to have any goals, and we should be able to keep our sanity for the trip.

So that’s our plan. Anyone out there have similar “issues” and found good ways of dealing with them?

Posted on

Say What

I’m terrible at falling asleep. For some reason, as soon as I lay down, my body ready to rest, my mind comes alive. No, no, it hasn’t been shut off all day, I swear, but it’s been focused, allowed only to think about the task at hand, not wander or wonder. So when there is no more goal beyond getting to bed, my mind explores, recalling things I saw or read earlier in the day, asking questions that have no answers (or at least ones that can be answered without major research), ruminating on what lies ahead in this game we call life. In order to combat this, I try to ease into bedtime, lying on the couch for a good hour or so before I head to the bedroom, letting my mind wear itself out.

It doesn’t always work, however, and sometimes I end up in bed, staring at the ceiling and then turning to Jeff—poor, poor Jeff who can fall asleep the minute he closes his eyes but rarely is allowed to—with something that I just have to discuss. Our latest such conversation, begun long after the clock struck midnight, started like this: “Jeff, do you think that whales…let’s say orca whales…more specifically, let’s say orca whales that live really far apart, like the ones up in the San Juan Islands and the ones down in Patagonia…”

At this point, he simply bursts out laughing. (Have I ever mentioned that I have the most amazingly patient husband in the world?) He, like you, I’m sure, was wondering where the hell this conversation was going. And he, like you, I’m sure, was more than a little surprised to find out that I wanted to have a conversation about language and communication. What I wanted to know about those whales was whether two whales, that were of the same species but lived in different places, would be able to communicate with each other should some day they cross paths in the big, wide ocean. Jeff figured that yes, they could, and I figured he was probably right, although part of me also thinks he was just saying that in the hopes I’d be quiet and go to sleep.

But no such luck. [Insert evil laugh here.] Because really my big question is, why can’t us humans do the same?

Although I guess that’s kind of unfair, because technically we can communicate. We can gesture and draw and find some way to get our point across, but it’s not the most elegant thing and it’s often ineffective, not to mention entirely frustrating. Why, I want to know, can’t I just walk up to someone—another human, another member of my species—and just say what I need to say? Why can’t we all just speak to each other?

Have you ever thought—really, really thought—about language? Every once in a while I do, usually inspired as I was that day with an encounter (this time on the Metro) with people speaking a tongue I did not know. As I rode home, standing in a crowded train, listening intently to words that meant nothing to me, I was struck by the absurdity of it. Of how, here I was, practically in the laps of these people—people who have the same DNA sequence as me, people who probably have very similar hopes and fears as me—and yet I could not have a conversation with them. They may as well have been an entirely different species. I may as well have been another species. In all honesty, we probably would have had an easier time communicating had we both been whales.

Language is one of the things that sets our species apart from other species. It is our grand accomplishment. It allows us to go beyond the physical and explore the existential. It is through language that we see the world, that we define our world. It is nearly impossible for us to grasp anything for which we do not have a word. Language is amazing, really.

Yet language is also a terrible stumbling block, for it doesn’t just set us apart from other species, but also separates human from human. When I think of all the languages we’ll encounter on this trip, when I think of all the times I’ll be tongue-tied and unable to express even the most basic thought, when I imagine all the conversations I’ll hear but not understand, I get frustrated. Ethnologue, considered to be the most extensive catalogue of world languages (though not believed to be complete), lists 6,912 known living languages. Holy bejesus.

Did you know that 29,000 people speak Hdi; 8,000 people speak Viemo; 136 people speak Zo’é, 120 people speak Obokuitai…?

It boggles my mind. And that’s when I consider learning Esperanto. But then I realize that that would be just one more thing to keep my brain churning late at night, and considering how few people really speak this “universal” language, I’m probably better off just figuring out how to best act out “Where is the toilet?” without appearing completely crude. Wish me luck.

(If you have any funny language-related stories, any tried and true gestures, or any advice on how to best approach a trip in which you’ll encounter so many different languages, please share!)