German is an interesting fellow to say the least. His charismatic personality and friendliness won us over immediately. We spent the rest of the day at the waterfall with him chatting about places we had seen and stayed at, wanted to see, and all our best stories getting there and from. We spent the rest of our time in Costa Rica together. Together we visited the rainforest and garden of butterflies in Monte Verde, hiked the hanging bridges in the rain, learned how to cook Colombian food and sat on a strangers couch and watched a movie. Our hotel didn't have a television, so we decided to go and rent a movie. We asked the store owner if we could rent a VCR. He volunteered his couch. We experienced an 11 tiered hot spring, encountered the Poison Dart Frog, and met lot's of other travelers.
 One of the things I remember most about traveling is how friendly people were to us. While sitting in a restaurant, it wasn't uncommon for another traveler or local to strike up a conversation with you. On one such occasion we met a group of travelers who were heading to a "Rainbow Gathering". Their description and excitement of this event made us want to come and see what it was all about. Our spring break was coming to an end so we departed ways with our new friend and headed back to school. The following weekend we decided to venture out again and see what it was all about. We left after the last class and headed back to the unknown. We followed the instructions of our friends and came laden with 1 tent, eating utensils and plates, Spam, a watermelon and a backpack with clothing for a few days. I remember riding in the back of a pick up truck for about 3 hours on bumpy, windy roads filled with pot holes to a farm in the middle of nowhere. The driver stopped and let us out while giving us a simple hand gesture to guide us in the direction we should walk. After 20 min we reached a river and were greeted by a host of hippies. Our first greeting from a friendly stranger was "welcome brother". We crossed over the river and found a place under a shady tree to set up our tent. By asking around we discovered we were there with about 700 people of all different nationalities and races. We learned where the kitchen, bathrooms, and fire circle were located. Two meals were served a day, one at brunch and the other at dinner. In between meals workshops were given to anyone who wanted to learn a specific skill. The workshops included cooking, playing the drums, fire juggling, Thai massage, how to make chai tea, how to play the guitar, and baking. These were just a few of the many offered. I was especially interested in the baking and Thai massage workshops. For the baking class we learned that you can make a simple oven from two steel barrels turned sideways. Both were packed with dirt and clay around them and were able to be opened and closed by their metal lids. Commercial size cookie sheets were used as racks to bake the items on. We made oatmeal cookies and used eggs, sugar, and cinnamon from the farm we were on. The cinnamon was scrapped from the bark of a tree and tasted so fresh. We baked the cookies under the fire lit stove and they were delicious.
Our Thai workshop was taught to us by a New Yorker who had a passion for massage. He was not a professional but loved to study it for a hobby. He was a great teacher and was the initial spark for my interest in massage. We later gathered at the fire pit for dinner with our little plates and utensils. A man with a black hat playing a guitar walked around the fire pit and collected any money contributed for food. He sang "may the circle be unbroken". We were dished out lentils and fresh pita bread with felafel. It was delicious. Those hardcore travelers who didn't have dishes held out their hands and used them as a bowl like a caveman would. After dinner was over many went back to their tents while others tested their fire juggling skills. We met our friend Rey and he showed us how to make chai tea. We sat around his fire and shared stories about our lives. I will never forget something that he said to me. He (being a hippie) said I had a lot of light and I needed to learn how to channel it. My response to him was "I know where my light comes from, it comes from God, and he's channeling it". This opened the door for me to tell him about my choices in life. It also built my confidence in who I was.
We woke up the next morning and decided we wanted to see how breakfast was served to over 700 people. I walked up the hill to the kitchen tent and asked what I could do. I was given a knife and told to cut and pit the melons. I cant remember how many melons I pitted but it was more than a thousand. I would cut the melon, pit the seeds and lay them in large plastic buckets with rope handles. I watched as others ground oats and cinnamon with an old fashioned grinder. The oats were then cooked on a fire and sugar and cinnamon were added in. It was the freshest porridge I had ever tasted. The buckets of food were then carried down to the circle and the same procedure as the night before was performed. Those who had money to contribute would drop it into the hat. After the meal was served, the flame jugglers and performers would come out to practice their talents.
We learned mothers home schooled their children there, five ladies were pregnant and no one was in charge. No institutionalization. Our time was up and we began our journey back to San Jose. We walked for 4 hours before getting picked up by a couple of ticos. We made a pit stop at a hot spring, shared our watermelon, and drank a coke while singing karaoke. We encountered a flat tire, and spent hours waiting outside our chauffeurs home while eating bananas from his tree before we finally escaped and hitched another ride from an Italian baker who gladly took us the rest of the way into the city. We made it back to school just in time and talked of nothing but our trip while walking all the way home from school.

Back again...

After thinking about Panama being my next excursion, I realized I was wrong. It was the Dominican Republic. My father was asked to preach a tent crusade there and we were invited to come along. I remember the warm tropical weather and delicious chicken and rice served to us several times while we were there. I remember walking into the lobby of the church wondering why it was filled with stacked mattresses?  I was later told that most of the people who attended the services lived so far away that they would rather sleep in the church on one of those thing dirty mattresses than miss out on church. I remember sweet people and good coffee. I remember scuba diving in the murky Dominican  water, and rafting through rapids where parts of Jurassic Park was filmed. Then came Panama...

Panama was one of the most memorable trips I ever went on. Not because of its location, but because of the length of time I spent there. My brother and I decided to attend Florida State University in Balboa, Panama in the spring of 2004. Our travel voucher given to us while in Honduras enabled us to fly round trip to our destination.  We were apart of a group of 9 students attending this study abroad semester. We spent the first few days on campus getting acquainted with the staff and school. Once we were familiar with the school, and signed up for classes we ventured out to find an apartment in the city. It took us a few days to find the right one in El Dorado, Panama. It was partially furnished,  located in a high rise apartment  building, and a 10-15 min (depending on your cab driver) drive back and forth from school.  We were crazy about being there and began furnishing our apartment with pots and pans, food, and anything else we could think we would need to make ourselves comfortable.We went grocery shopping at the REY. Being frugal, we put our funds together and decided to purchase a 10lb bag of pancake mix. That pancake mix lasted us the entire time we were there. We made chocolate chip pancakes, mango pancakes, papaya pancakes, cinnamon pancakes, strawberry pancakes and anything we could think up. The challenge was to out do the other in our pancake skills. We bought an ugly rug, a lopsided fruit bow (that now sits above my moms cabinets) a Panamanian cheesecloth coffee filter and many more treasures to fill our little place. In order to find our way back and forth from the apartment to the school we took the bus all around the city and got lost just so we could find our way. We crammed into brightly colored, loud and crowded school buses squeezing our way into a spot. The buses vibrated with reggaeton and  the sound of the coin attended announcing the next stop. After a month of being in the city and taking the bus back and forth to school for a meager .45 cents I finally worked up the nerve to taking it by myself. I made many friends on those trips to and from school, church,  the mall, and the grocery store and it gave me a great opportunity to practice my Spanish. God always had his hand on me. I remember once I had to go to the dentist and I took the bus into the city several times by myself to get my procedure taken care of. My brother and a friend of his were taking a trip to the island Bocas del Toro and I had a dentist appointment. Being boys, they didn't want to wait around on me and decided to go ahead giving me directions to find it myself. I was so nervous. I had to make several stops and the last one was a little unclear but I wanted to go so I went to the bus station and got on the bus. On the last bus I was sitting with my hood over my head trying to sleep (it was always so cold on the buses) and I felt a tap on my head. It was my brother. They had stopped and gotten something to eat on the way and delayed their trip. I was so glad to have found them. We stayed on an island called Bastimentos. It was a small island just a water taxi ride away from the congested Bocas del Toro. The island was owned by a retired Navy officer. The story is told he bought the island and everyone called him crazy for doing so because it was a huge swamp. His years of experience in the Navy allowed him the knowledge to dredge the island and make it a beautiful resort. He built stilted bungalows with open windows and mosquito netting over the beds.They were beautiful. He had a small restaurant  built on some high rocks overlooking the ocean. I remember having red snapper. I remember paddling a kayak around the island and being able to see the fish clearly through the water.
Every weekend was a different adventure and I cant remember them all but will note the most memorable ones. One weekend my grandparents came to visit us. They gave us 4 days to work with. We packed those 4 days so full they were a whirlwind. We picked them up from the airport, whisked them away to our little apartment, instructed them to take one change of clothing each and put them in our back packs. We took them downtown to the causeway, through Casco Viejo, went shopping in the artisan market then got on a bus and headed towards Isla Grande. They were 66 and 61 years old at the time. They experienced the joy of the Red Diablo's and enjoyed fresh empanadas and fruity smoothies. We hiked to the top of the Island and swung in hammocks at our hotel. We swam in the hot summer sun and enjoyed fresh caught fish for dinner. It was a memory I will never forget.
As students we were taken on several trips. One of our many trips was a white water rafting trip. I can't remember the name of the river we rafted, just the crazy ride. During our  ride our guides would occasionally stop to show us something or for us to get out and take a break. On one occasion we stopped and hiked up mossy covered rock with water flowing down it in various places to a huge waterfall on top. Once at the top we took a break and dove into the pool of water below the waterfall. On our way down the rock my brother got the bright idea of putting on his helmet and scooting down the mossy rock where the water was flowing. Nothing gave at first. After a few scoots he suddenly went about 3 feet in the air and landed on his bum while continuing to fly down the rock into the fast moving current. I didn't know whether to howl with laughter or be scared to death. His body hit the rock in in every way possible before meeting the water. I remember the feeling of fear taking over the humor. I hurried as fast as I could and saw the guide reach out and grab him and pull him up into the raft. I was halfway down the rock before I slipped and fell the rest of the way down myself. Once at the bottom I was also pulled onto the raft by the guide. I was later asked by my brother if I were trying to do what he did. He was nervous about his experience and said he had no control over his body. When we made it back to the city and went to the internet store the following day to make our call home, my mother asked us what we had been doing at the time the incident happened. We told her the story and she began to tell us that the Lord had led her to pray at that very moment for us not knowing what was going on. Even in our crazy adventures God has always had his hand on us.
We visited the city of Boquette and toured a coffee plantation. I have always loved coffee so this was very special for me. I learned the differences of beans and how to taste the difference in flavor. We camped out under the stars in Boquette and made a fire.
For our spring break we decided to venture into Costa Rica. We spent a day or two in San Jose and tried many different foods, shopped in the market and met many friends. We went to Volcan Poas to see the volcano. We visited La Fortuna and swam like crazies under the waterfall. We met a friend at La Fortuna that would become a lifetime friend. He was a crazy Colombian named German.

Ok So here I go...

After recent circumstances in my life I was encouraged by a sweet friend to write. I began to think about what I could write about and what I know or am interested in most. My conclusion was travel, bargain shopping, and fashion. I will begin with travel.

When I was 15 years old my parents took my family on a cruise to Mexico. We visited Cozumel and the Keys. It was my first time out of the United States. I remember we didn't need a passport then because I didn't get mine until 2 years later. I was 17 years old and a Bible school student. My parents were assisting the missionaries in the Bahamas and my sister and I were left to our own devices. :) I was a missions student and when the opportunity to go on a missions trip to South America, Guyana came up I was so excited. I had to go. I worked a little job at a data entry place and saved some money to go. I also asked grandparent's and family members for their support and they gladly obliged. The cost of the trip was $700. I have no idea how I remember that, but I do. I didn't have a passport and would have to drive to Chicago to get it because of how close the trip was. I woke up early in the morning before the sun rose and drove to the Kluczynski Federal Building in Chigago, Il. This was before gps. I don't know how I made it there and back, but I did! I stayed there all day waiting in line only to be told I needed to show my Itinerary. I didn't have it with me. I got out of place in the line and ran across the street to a fax store, called my travel agent and asked her to fax me my itinerary. I felt so grown up. I went back to the federal building and waited in line again. The office was about to close and the man that had been working with me must've felt sorry for me because he waved for me to come to the window with several people in line in front of me. I told him I needed to leave with my passport that day and he said I would have to come back 3 days later or wait for 7 days. I could do neither and told him so. He told me to wait for a few minutes and came back after what seemed like hours with my passport! There it was! Me in my favorite aqua blue shirt that I had chosen to wear that day with page after page of crisp empty spaces waiting to be stamped. I drove back to the school feeling important and independent. I was late for curfew, but the chastisement was well worth the gain. This little book would open the door to some of the most impressionable times of my life.
I can't remember the exact dates of the trip to Guyana. I think it was sometime around September. I remember it was still very hot there. 15 years is a long time ago to try and recollect everything I saw and experienced, but I will try and do my best. I remember there were 5 of us on the trip from school. I remember visiting the zoo there and a wooden playground. I remember walking through dirty neighborhoods handing out flyers for a tent revival and seeing houses on stilts with hammocks tied to the posts. I remember the ladies from the church cooking us breakfast, lunch and dinner, mostly plantains, chicken, rice and beans.I remember showering from a large rainwater reserve because the sewage was terrible. I remember getting up at 6am every morning to pray for the revival while trying to stay awake. I remember people asking us if were were apart of Jim Jones cult. I remember the dirty sea side. I remember a big yellow and white tent and dancing in the dust without my shoes on for hours hand in hand with the ladies from the church. It was freedom. No inhibitions. I remember sitting in a chair for 3 hours while 3 ladies braided my hair in their house and fed me chicken and rice with punch. I remember taking a bus ride with one of the ladies from the church who I would see years later at a General Conference with her UPCI evangelist husband. Guyana was amazing, humbling and and adventure. It was the first of many to come.

I left Bible school and moved with my family from the great state of Ohio to South Carolina. We were there of for a year before moving on to Florida.
My next trip abroad would be 5 years later. It was a missions trip to Guatemala and Honduras. My brother encouraged me to go with him and we began to save our money to go. We both drove used cars and lived at home so it was pretty easy to save. I worked at a rehab center in Jacksonville and was able to come up with the funds needed for the trip. We went with a large group of kids from Florida and it was wild fun! Our Trip was planned and filled with activities every day. Not a moment was wasted. We were in services almost every night and participated in reaching out during the day. Some of the group made animals from balloons and others played instruments. We all sang and seemed to draw a crowd wherever we went. We sang in the street, on corners, in the square and in churches. We visited the market place and shopped through endless rows of wooden frogs, colorful skirts, straw purses, coffee and voodoo dolls. We visited Antigua and Lake Aitilan. We picked up fallen pumice rock from out of the lake and took a million pictures of the bubbling, lava filled volcano from the night sky. We visited ancient ruins and swang in colorful hammocks. We rode on crowded buses with sweaty, stinky people and loved every minute of the immersion. We crowded into church buildings where people sat outside looking through the windows and doors just to hear the word of God. We visited burial grounds and a dump where a large population lived off of the spoils of the dead. We survived getting sick from eating local church food and water. We learned our lesson to not sleep outside after being bitten by thousands of hungry mosquitoes in our hammocks throughout the night. We snuck away to a hippie pizza joint and enjoyed a slice of pizza. We visited Honduras and its ancient ruins. On our way home from this glorious trip 4 of us caught a bump on the flight and took a flight voucher to stay over another night. We were taken to a nice hotel and fed dinner on the airline. The next day we took a cab into the city and wandered around downtown. We stopped in a cigar shop once visited by John F Kennedy. We flew home with our horizons a little more broadened. This bump would soon thereafter pay our way to our next adventure, Panama.