Pinch Me, I didn't just spend a month in Africa?

Yes, you read the title right. I, Rachel Nicole Coffman, recently crossed off something on my bucket list that I have been dreaming of doing for a long long time. I went to Africa. I did not just travel to Africa, I was immersed in it for 30 whole days.

Travel is such vague word a lot like love. It can mean many things but never the same thing. My travel to Africa could be a completely different experience than your crazy aunt''s trip. I would hate to get type cast as a traveler who flys only first class to be courted by a plush shuttle to my 5-star, very "american" hotel and only do the activities the guide book expects you too. That isn't my type of travel and not that there is anything wrong with traveling like that but for me I like to walk away knowing I got a little dirt on my hands.

So when reflecting back on the 30-day trip 20 days post vacation it is hard for me to even remember it was real. In its entirety, the whole trip feels like a dream. Did I summit Mount Kilimanjaro and was it truly not that difficult? Does this mean I should do Everest to push myself or should I just stop tempting fate?

So where do you start summarizing an experience so full of details. I think I shall just go in chronological order to be the simplest. On the outskirts of Johannesburg we met our fellow Nomad Tour mates and began an 8-day quest through Bostwana.

This was taken in the Okavango Delta at Jumbo Junction Camp. 

Six years ago, I found myself in what I can only look back and label the darkest of dark points in my life. I was positively scared of everything. The thought of me pushing myself to uncomfortable limits was as outlandish as the chance of me winning the WV Lottery. I existed, I didn't live. A year passed, I had a new job and was having a coffee break at Taylor Books rummaging through the travel books. I found a pictorial spread on the Okavango Delta in Bostwana. There were fascinating pictures of people sailing through the Delta on makoro canoes surrounded by huge lilly pads and long reeds. I remember thinking to myself, "I have to see this but I doubt I ever will."

It was a hot but not humid evening and the landscape had just went front the bright afternoon blue to the warm haze brought on by the impending dusk. I stuck my foot into the same makoro canoe that had seemed so allusive to me in that bookshop. It was a symbol of why I push myself. Why making dreams and accomplishing them are so so very important. The small action of placing my body in that canoe meant that from point A to point B I did what was needed to make the vision in my head a reality. 

Joy, our guide, pushed off from the bank and stuck the long reed oar into the clear but dark water. We moved at a smooth pace as the long reeds engulfed us as we followed the small path through the marsh. Everything was golden. 

The silence from the serenity of the surroundings was quickly interrupted by a loud gargle in the distance. Hippos enjoying the evening sun were ahead and to the left. I got increasingly nervous as we approach since hippos are one of the most deadly creatures in Africa and the canoe itself wasn't as sturdy as one would hope. The evening continued and my right of passage into Africa had begun. 

It is strange to see animals like hippos in the wild. Your whole life these are animals you will only witness in a zoo in the USA. You expect them to be captive and it is an abnormality to see them free. I looked over my shoulder and thought who is watching them and I had to quickly remind myself this is their home, here they are free. 

We spent about 15 minutes watching the hippos and began to glide back to Jumbo Junction, our camp in the Delta for the next two days. The sun quickly turned from yellow to blaze red and the sky welcomed intense views of the Milky Way. I looked up to the sky and stared at the Southern Cross, the unfamiliar constellation only seen in the Southern Hemisphere, reminding me I was far away from my home.  I could have sit out there for hours and just stared above me. The sheer vastness an uninterrupted sky can stir in the human soul is unrivaled. I love being reminded how small I actually am, it makes me try that much harder to be louder, to be more significant.

I don't crave significance in a vain, self-serving way. I want my life to mean something, everyone's life matters in some way or another. We influence strangers everyday in different ways. There are so many people who have influenced me that probably have no idea their small words or actions helped me make life decisions. These are the things I think about when I stare at high detailed sky. Being able to see constellations that the lights of modern development hide brings into perspective why as a society we are plateauing.  All the great thinks saw the stars without  light blocking their wonderment. The could stare and think and know there is always more out there. Now we are so narrow-minded and everything in our field of vision is so masked by something else that no one is wondering what else is out there, what is left to be discovered.  

This is why I must travel because it lets me breathe in a way I can't when I am confined by my daily life. Expectations, social pressure, work, etc., all weigh me down and I forget who I am amongst everyone's expectation of who should be. Traveling allows me to get lost in being in the exact moment I need to be. The ability to disappear and fully connect to you soul without interruption. I crave this feeling like a smoker craves drag, an alcoholic craves vodka, and a junkie needs a hit.

After a full day in the Okavango Delta, my senses were on all cylinders as we went to sleep in our tent positioned right next to the marsh. Our tent was so close, we were awoken by a herd of elephants sloushing through the marsh in the middle of the night. My heart started to beat a little bit faster as everything in Africa sounds like a Lion in the dark but once I figured out danger wasn't a factor I slowly drifted back to sleep. 

Sun met us again in the same color it had left us, blaze red. As the sun arose over the Okavango Delta like fire, I was eager to know what adventure would await us today. How in the end of this expedition would I tell this story? The dream was just beginning and what would unfold over the next couple of weeks would become one of the most humbling experiences of my life. 

My best friend Lauren said before I left West Virginia that I would be a changed person when I came back, she thought for a different reason but I am changed. I am changed for the better. I didn't just come here to see Africa, I came here to feel Africa. I feel Africa will always be with me from here on out reminding me how grateful I am and how much I have left to do in the time I have left in the world. Africa has made me want to get closer in my faith with God and I am looking forward to strengthening that relationship.

This is just one day and some of my thought of Africa, many more to come. 

The Tastes of Lima

Wow, I am post 72 hours from reaching the Sun Gate at Machu Picchu and I still am not rested up form my 45km journey to one of the greatest moments of my life. There are very few moments when I am speechless but after 45kms, endless stairs, and rain, when I crossed through the Sun Gate and Machu Picchu laid there in the distance, I gasped and cried.

This wasn't just any trip for me, it was the first place in this big world I became obsessed with in 2nd grade. We learned about the Incas in our gifted program and every since age seven, I have wanted to go there. I dreamed about walking among the ruins and retracing the historic steps of a civilization well advanced for its time. Honestly, had I rode the train to the lost city in the Andes, I may have been disappointed but I chose the four-day Classic Inca Trail hike and it was well worth it. The amount of pride you have when you reach your chosen beacon reminds you it was never the destination you were after but the journey.

I am in fairly good shape but it is a physical marathon adapting to high elevation and walking for 5 hours at a time up and down when you have a desk job most days. I learned more about myself in 4 days than I have in a long long time. Being uncomfortable is the hidden treasure of life because it requires you to grow without choice.

So I will start my blog about this vacation in our first stop which is Lima.

January 3, 2015

We flew out of Charleston with nerves and excitement only to be blasted at Miami when we learned our flight was delayed to maintenance and look like we would miss our whole day in Lima. Fortunately, we were rerouted on  LAN flight at 1 am and we were able to make our food tour for the morning. Lima is bustling right now, and I can not wait to visit it in ten years to see the urban growth.

Leaving the airport you can see you are surrounded by the high poverty areas that are still being ignored as the urban growth in city center writes a different description of Lima. Quickly, are driver headed to Miraflores along Costa Verde and the panoramic view of the contrast of the green cliffs and blue water quickly came into view.

Christen and I arrived at our hotel, La Castellana and it was perfect. We rushed and showered in enough time to barely make our food tour. We started the day with a trip to Barraco region of the city to have a fresh Lucuma smoothie. This fruit is known as the last gold of the Incas and it has a very sweet but nutty taste. We had one fresh from the tree growing in the middle of the cafe. 

Next, it was on to the market to learn about the exotic fruits of Peru. We reached the market and it was a rainbow of colors of all kinds of different fruit. I quickly learned the Peru has completely outlawed GMO's and the fruit I was looking at looked bigger and brighter than anything I would get in the USA. This leading to more hatred of the crap we are told to eat that is so genetically modified and chemically enhanced it should be outlawed for human consumption. My favorite fruit I tried was the Chirimoya, which was green on the outside and heart shaped. Its flavor was that of a coconut, banana, apple, and pineapple rolled into one. 

After the market, we ventured into a Cevichery to learn how to properly make ceviche and a 

proper pisco sour. For the ceviche we used one of my favorite fishes, sea bass. I fell in love with this fish in the Adriatic and it continues as its flavor is so good when it is fresh. The making of a ceviche is very easy and combines all the flavors I love; hot, cilantro, lime juice, and garlic. You mix a mixture of things together topped off with onions, corn and a sweet potato on the side. 

Lima was a fantastic town for this foodie. I loved my day there and wish I had more time, but I will only have to go back when the time is right and experience again the joys of Peruivan cuisine. I am two days back in the states and everything here tastes bland and fake. It is always an adjustment to come off such a high after traveling and go back to life they way it is suppose to be. Our night in Lima was finished with a visit to a restaurant named Tanta where we had causa limena, aji de gallina and a Peruvian chocolate cake. 

(more food pics from lunch)

Lima was a special city and another reason I love falling in love with South America over and over again. I hope to go back sooner than later. Stay tuned for pics and updates from Cusco and the Inca Trail!! 

Voids and Disillusionment

The alarm clock sounds and the reality of your dreams fades into the actual reality, but what truly is real? I ask this question every morning I wake up to the first snooze button attempt. I never want to get up, to participate in anything outside my dreams. It isn't my life is boring. I love everything about my life, I have an awesome job, a stellar social circle, and great health. There is nothing I am missing, yet I never feel satisfied. For years, I have ponder whether that is how I am wired or is there actually something I lack in my very believable, even to myself, full-life.

Its that transcendency into the monotony of life that bores me that makes me wonder is what we dream who we really are or is it what we do? I know when I awake that I will have breakfast, I will shower, and I will do a great job at work but there is hardly ever any surprises in my day. I need surprises. In my dreams, there are limitless adventures, laughter, interesting people, and food that would scare and satisfy you. So when I lay my head down at night, it is hard for me to be grateful for a day that was so predictable. Swarms of guilt override me as I realize how many people are dying, starving, and cold at the same moment I am feeling less than fully human because my day was average.

How can I be so selfish? I have no idea, I never have thought of myself as a selfish person, but in those moments I am. Although, I try to look at it as those are the moments I push myself to get more out of life but at the same time, am I letting life just pass by without a second glance?

Twenty-something is a title I hold proudly. I am confused the majority of my life, but I love it. Seriously, I love the grey area. I love when my life is in a grey area, men who are  flaky, unpredictible  and indecisive are my weakness, trips that have no plans are what I prefer, and food with no description makes me feel like I am jumping out of a plane with every bite. It's like my high. I am addict to the feeling of uncertainty and every time my life is predictible withdrawal symptoms start to appear.

The thirst I yearn for, I don't think it will ever be quench. How do you tame a wild thing without changing it? I love the dichotomy of my personality half-succesful business women and the half-hippie only living for the moment and the experiences of the road. Maybe my 20s are suppose to be filled with such confusion or maybe the confusion is really lessons where I learn the deepest parts of my soul.

I am wild to the truest definition. Some how wild got to be the description for a woman who drank too-much and slept around with too many men, but how can we short-change such a word. Being wild has nothing to do with staying up past 2 am it is how you view your freedom. Being wild is not allowing preconceived notions of life and illusions of white-fences and Norman Rockwell style of life to be cast upon you. You must follow this line that everyone follows, no, the wild are those that chose to be different. They are the ones who enjoy the grey area of life and realize it isn't grey but full of unexplainable color.

I am not a communicator with the spoken word, I never have been. For my whole life I keep things deep inside until the fester and break me in ways that only years of emotional repression would do to a person.

A lot of people can't admit that they are broken, I am. I look into the mirror everyday, and I see straight through to the 12 year-old girl that stared into it 15 years ago. I still see her eyes and her spirit but when I concentrate on the foreground, which is the me now, all I see are broken pieces sewn back together again. The reflection I see isn't whole but a continuous amount of trauma, disappointment, and broken hope stitched together enough to make me recongizable. I keep hoping I will one day find myself again but I am not there. I never will be again, at least not the way I was. I miss that side of me before death, before loss and before a string of heartbreaks. Imagine if other people could see our perception of our own reflection? How raw and intimate that would be? Then you think about it, that is what love is, the bravery enough to let someone in to see all your scars and all your broken pieces and hope they still want to love you?

If only it was that simple.

The Delightful Surprise That Was Albania.

Albania- Yes, Albania. If you would have told me last year at this time that over the course of the next 365 days I would have been to Albania, I would have done one thing. Looked quizzical at you and said you were crazy. But here I am 365 days later, Albania has came and gone in my life and taught me things I didn't realize were going to happen.

I am a firm believer you never go into a country's border and out of the border the same person. That experience happened in Albania. The minute we crossed over into the country, everything changed. The landscape, the poverty, everything was drastically different from Montenegro.

We had spent the morning driving along the Montenegrin Riviera in a bus without air conditioner. The word to describe Albania upon first glance was rough and dry. The Alps seemed stepper and more rocky. The ground went from an earthy green to a harsh hue of yellow.  The countryside was lined with small homes with their laundry out to dry. The more into Albania we ventured, the more the communist roots showed. There were abandoned bunkers on hills and concrete structures in the middle of construction left to be worked on another day.

Albania lacked everything Europe stood for. It lacked romance, character, and the quintessential story book charm. Nothing about it looked inviting and yet, at the same time it was alluring. It was alluring in its vacancy and it's ability to be something. Albania was so vulnerable. A place where scars showed but they were being pulled back to expose new growth on the horizon.

Our first stop was in Tirana, the capital city. As we made our way into the city, we found an environment that was very comparable to northern Africa. The buildings were short, colorful and dirty. A lot of people find "third world" destinations repulsive to travel to, but I find something uniquely intriguing about other cultures and their lack of cleanliness and food restrictions. In America, we are so trapped with laws, qualifications, and rules. The question begs to be asked, "Our we really free at all?"

We spent the first few hours touring the city on foot. Walking through the city market where fresh cheese, fruit and meat were sold in abundance. I had all these expectations of Albania and most of them created from watching the movie Taken. I wasn't looking forward to Albania at all, but it was probably the most important part of my Adriatic adventure because it was the place that made me feel the most uncomfortable. The place that made me feel like a real traveler, traveling for experience rather than comfort.

 We only had about 16 hours in Albania's capital, but it was the place were our group of ten strangers became a group of ten friends in an outdoor patio of a hostel. This was the turning point in our 9 day trip and this 16 hours brought us together mainly because for all ten of us, we were stepping into our unknown.

 Each time I travel I find myself more and more accepting of trying things I don't feel comfortable with and I think that is the true test of why it is so important to travel. Books, the internet, and routines can't prepare you or make you grow like traveling can. Traveling doesn't have to be elaborate. Something can change your perspective as simple as a home-cooked meal full of flavors you can't recognize and ingredients you can't pronounce. One bite and your walls come down and you find yourself not questioning anything anymore. There is something so ironically comfortable about putting yourself in uncomfortable situations.

 As we left Tirana, I was excited to venture more into this mysterious country. It was now time to head to the coast. With it's crystal clear water and rocky beaches, the Albanian Riviera is a beautiful yet underdeveloped resort destination that is a secret to the Western world. Albania is a secret. I think it enjoys its mystery and aloofness.  People who want to discover it will, and what they will find is a treasure along the Adriatic sea.

Simple Adventures in the Bay of Kotor

Before departing the United States, I had not heard of Montenegro but maybe a few times, but now I feel as though my heart has been left there and one day I will return to gather up again. I leave pieces of myself in every place I visit. Each journey is special because it teaches so many lessons. Montenegro is not a place of extravagance, it is a place where simple is prime.

Upon leaving the red tile roofs of Croatia, we passed into Montenegro. Our journey was scenic with miles and miles of vineyards, hues of green, and the rolling hills of the Dinaric Alps contrasting against the bright hue of the August sky. We arrived in Igalo/Hecerg Novi on the Bay of Kotor in the early afternoon. Immediately, we found ourselves in the murky sandbar in the bay and watched locals cover themselves in the dark black mud to exfoliate their skin. It was in that moment as I saw the panoramic view of the Dinaric Alps that I first felt far away. I was in a place where Americanized tourism had left untouched. Where fruit was sold in abundance on every corner, fried sardines were cooked on the street, and ice cream was displayed like small works of art.

We awoke the next morning for kayaking across the beautiful Bay of Kotor and after a delish meal filled with the local meat dishes a few of us decided to take the bus to Kotor. Kotor was an hour bus ride from Hecerg Novi. I always find the best way to get in touch with a place is through public transportation. Our bus was 44 degrees Celsius which is well over 100 degrees in American terms. I don't think I have ever been so overheated from sitting in my entire life. After the hour trek in the sauna we had for a bus, we arrived and up on first glance Kotor's old town had the similar charm as Dubrovnik only on a smaller scale. The most noticable observation on arival was the tall mountains and the fortress wall scaling across the top. Like a moth to a flame, this mountain girl was excited to climb to the top of the fortress.

After a small tour of the city and a stop for water, we ventured up the staggered stones that made up the road tot he fortress. About 1/4th of the way up I was starting to over-heat but in my true stubborn fashion I wasn't giving up. (On a side-note, never wear jean Bermuda shorts on a 100 degree day to climb a 45 degree bank for over a mile.)  On the start of our climb, we looked over the old town of Kotor and there was laundry drying, loafs of bread outside rising, and a whole new way of life was being exposed from this vantage point. We continued on up and with every meter something new arose over the horizon. It was a sunny day with a hint of haze but the haze made the red tile roof and green Cyprus tree contrast stand out as the blue mountains and bay faded into the distance.

The Bay of Kotor

As we climbed closer to the top, we decided to rest before doing the final leg of the climb. It was then we noticed a small hole in the fortress wall and a small stone church in the distance. We unanimously agreed to explore the old abandon church and thus starts the lesson that everything in life is better when it is unplanned. 

We climbed through the whole in fortress wall and passed several goats grazing in the rock terrain to reach the church. Completely in solitude, the church with its mossy roof and its beautiful but fading details could not be in a more random but perfect stop so high above the town in the mountains serving as a symbolic gateway to heaven. As we walked around we noticed a sign in red paint that said, "Goat Cheese 50 m." All of us being naturally curious people we decided to go on a quest for the goat cheese.  The 50 meters turned more into 150 meters and as we walked along the rocky path we were greeted by a horse, a cow, and then of course the goats. We turned a corner and appeared on the side of the mountain a small house made stone with the laundry drying outside. The owners, not speaking a bit of English, invited us in with so much hospitality. 

We drank juice, coffee, homemade raki, and then it was time for the main event; their homemade cheese. Now, I am a cheese lover and of all the cheese I have tasted this aged-goat cheese was an sensory experience for my palate. This was hands down the best cheese I have ever tasted. We all sat there soaking up the simple moment and completely blew off going to the top of the fortress. 

This whole experience was the highlight of my trip. Proving the simple and unplanned moments of your life can be the most rewarding. It was a turning point in how I look at myself as a traveler. Language shouldn't be a barrier. I could not physical communicate with this lovely couple but yet we still communicated through our trust and openness in mankind. How many American families would ever welcome strangers into their home like this? I realized I can't be afraid to go to places that will make me uncomfortable or places I am afraid I won't be able to understand. I think that is how travelers differ from tourist. Tourists go after what is observed, while travelers seek something of more understanding from the unseen. This place we found is not in a guide book or Trip Advisor but it is hands down one of the top ten experiences of my life that I can't even fully put into words.  

I learned that planning things and being scared to go off the path may mean you miss out on the small surprises along the way. Montenegro was never I place on my bucket list and being there in the first place was unexpected but the lessons I took away from Montenegro will stay with me for my whole life. This entire Balkan region is a jewel to the world. A place of amazing food, amazing art, gorgeous landscapes and extremely humble and welcoming people. A piece of my heart was left here in these rocky mountains and one day I will return to gather it again and share the experience with my children or grandchildren. Life is about going off course and finding out something as a well-crafted wheel of aged goat cheese can have a profound impact on your life. 

To the small adventures...

New Eyes, New Places

There are several experiences in my life that make me stop and take a photographic memory in my life, this past month I have had several of those. I recently traveled to the Adriatic Coast and the entire experience was amazing. I will individual break down those moments in future posts but what I want to concentrate on today is what changed inside my soul during this journey.

Each quest I take has a unique effect on me. I doubt anyone can open themselves to new experiences and come back to their daily life and feel the same. Currently, I feel as though my entire life I have been living with a coating of gray over my eyes and after this journey I feel I see colors I didn't before and my palate has experienced flavors distant to it in my previous life. Everything I saw and ate on this trip was amazing and flavorful. The fruit was sweeter, the sauces more dynamic, and everything tasted fresh. I came back to a world of processed foods and a keen sense for tasting added sugar in things I previously was unaware of.

My most important observation is that my entire daily life lacks the passion I need it to have. I have no outdoor cafes on every corner, no street music echoing through the town, no outdoor fruit stands selling blackberries and raspberries for 1 Euro. My entire regular life seems overpriced and over processed. I have reached a tipping point where I don't want my life to be any of those things. I want the art of growing food, I want to smell fresh herbs. I don't want the quick way anymore but the detailed way. I want to eat something that has substance and I watched it grow from start to finish.

There are a lot of things I love about America, but the concept the faster the better is not one of them. I have been sucked into this way of life for so long that I think my best options are my quickest options. Nothing in life should ever be done fast for the sake of ruining the quality of it.  I sometimes feel so out of place and I realize when I travel I doubt my residence in the good ol' USA. I don't fit at all with anything my society is trying to shove down my throat. There are so many books I want to read, so many symphonies I haven't listened too, and so many places I haven't visited yet.