September 2023 – LongLegsBigCity

Peru Part Uno

September 28, 2023 3 Comments

It has been a LONG time since I’ve written a travel blog, so I’m excited to bring you new, world-traveling content this week (and next!). My original plan was to split this blog into two: one where I talked about all of the positives about traveling, getting away with friends, exploring new places, seeing amazing scenery, eating local delicacies, etc., and one where I talked about the difficult co-existing emotions of going on a trip during this #veryhardyear. Then, I was chatting with one of my loss-mom internet friends and she said it was inspiring to see me “finding joy amongst the griefyness,” and that’s why I decided to write this instead as a fully integrated post. The good, the fun, the sad, and the complicated. However, a 2-in-1 post means this one is a pretty lengthy, so strap in. It’ll be posted in two installments, but stay tuned, I included pictures.

Let’s start at the top. Many months ago, my therapist asked me what used to bring me joy so I could try to find it again. I could barely remember, but I told her I guessed it was traveling with friends. She suggested I start small, like a brunch. But I didn’t want to go to brunch, and I didn’t want to see my friends.

In my past life, I traveled in the early autumn every year because I always had extra time off from work. 4 months ago, when I realized I wouldn’t be tied down with a baby this season, and when I realized I’d have three friends having babies in September (blog about this coming soon), I requested a week off from work mid-September. My time-off request was approved. A group of my friends started talking about possible places to go. My therapist was so proud of me. Many, many messages and ideas were sent back and forth. Then in July, I fell off the face of the earth. I deleted my social media and I stopped answering any texts. The trip planning ceased, at least on my end. I couldn’t think in advance even one day, nonetheless a few months ahead, and I couldn’t fathom booking activities when I was just trying to get through the current hour.

Then in August, since I hadn’t been on any group chats, I fired up a group message via text and asked if anyone was still up for going on a trip. I was honest about my lack of planning abilities. I said I’d still be down to travel, but that I just needed someone to tell me where to book a flight and that I’d be mostly useless on planning. Ideal travel buddy, right? Thankfully, my friend stepped up and suggested Peru. It seemed like the ideal location because there were nonstop flights from NY and FL and only a one hour time difference, which was great since we had about 9 days total and didn’t want to deal with jetlag. My friends booked flights. I couldn’t get my act together until the next day, when flights went up $150 but it is what it is. It’s just money #thingsprivilegedpeoplesay.

Anyway, we settled on Peru and we started planning. By “we” I mean, not me. My main contribution was asking other people for Peru recommendations and throwing them in a google doc. The one thing I did was book us an Airbnb for Lima. My friend liaised with a travel group in Cusco and did the extremely heavy lift of coordinating everything with the travel agency. The agency took care of everything from tours, airport pickups, train and hotel reservations, and anything else we could have wanted, like advice on how much to tip drivers. Did I mention this was all done 3 weeks in advance? We had extremely low expectations given that this was a slapdash, last-minute trip, and we were all extremely pleasantly surprised.

Our trip started with three girls (including me) in Lima, and we had zero plans. We had a few lazy days exploring the city. We slept in, left the Airbnb around 11 am, got iced lattes, and went on a few free walking tours. We explored the Huaca Pucllana pre-Incan ruins that are right in the middle of the city. We also did some solo exploring, first at the nearby John F. Kennedy Park. The strangest thing about this park is not that it is named for a US President, but that it houses hundreds of stray cats. One of the friends I was with is obsessed with cats, so of course me made multiple visits to the park. These are not just dirty street bodega cats, thankfully. There is an association, Gatos Parque Kennedy, that cares for, feeds, and provides sterilization for the cats living in the park. There’s even an adoption process in case someone wants to take one home. I don’t think you’re allowed to transport cats across the border, otherwise my friend may have tried to smuggle one home (she did not).

We went on a tour of the historic city including the Gran Hotel Bolívar, the Plaza de Armas, the House of Peruvian Literature, and the Santo Domingo Church. At one point, we passed a woman dressed as a zombie bride holding a dead bloody baby, and she had 3 other bloody babies at her feet. I’m not sure if anyone else on the tour noticed her, but I did. At first, I thought I was making it up so I brought it to my friend’s attention. I said “do you see all those bloody babies?” It was not in my head, they were indeed there, but they were dolls. At another point we went into the Church of San Francisco, where our tour guide said “see all those little toy cars by the statue of Jesus? Each one was put there by a parent for their dead child. Ok! Let’s move on.” He was a fast-moving guide. It took me a few moments to shift gears.

We ended the tour with a Pisco tasting in a souvenir shop, where we tried 8 types of Pisco, and then we were hustled into buying souvenirs (we got adorable pom pom hair ties).

The next day, we went on a free walking tour of Barranco, which started out with a bang because we had to take a local bus there with the tour guide. We were surprised to find out that the buses do not actually stop at stops, but instead just open their doors while moving and expect you to jump out. What an adventure. Thankfully we all survived.

Barranco is known as the artsy neighborhood of Lima filled with murals, street art, and lots of great local food. In Barranco, you can also find the famous Bridge of Sighs, where legend has it, if you’re able to walk across the bridge while holding your breath, your wish will come true. I won’t tell you my wish, but I bet you can guess.

Throughout my trip to Peru, you’ll see that eating was a main theme. Lima has become a bit of a food destination, and it’s often called South America’s culinary capital. While we didn’t do any of our fancy eating until the last few days of the trip (stay tuned!), we did a good amount of eating throughout the trip. On the front end of the trip, we ate a lot of street food. I was thrilled to be traveling with fellow adventurous eaters, so we tried and shared a lot of Peruvian delicacies, starting with antichuchos (beef heart). We also tried a classic dessert called picarones, aniseed-flavoured doughnuts with mashed squash. We bought a caramel-filled churro from the street, as well as an ice-cream-looking cone, but it was more like marshmallow fluff? Later in Cusco, we tried alpaca and guinea pig (I’ll save you the pictures). Alpaca tasted like bison, guinea pig was a little bit like rabbit. We knew we had to try the classic rotisserie chicken, but since we like to go big or go home, we went to a chicken place and got chicken three different ways. All three were amazing. We also sampled Inca Cola, which I hated, but I don’t like soda so I wasn’t surprised.

In between our eating, we got our steps in by exploring the city. We walked to the shoreline along El Malecon, a cliffside walking path. There’s a mall there as well, called Larcomar. We walked around and chatted while we sat on a bench and were approached by many locals who wanted to practice their English (and ask us for money). It was beautiful and peaceful. There was also a “Love Park,” which was dedicated on Valentine’s Day. It features a massive sculpture of two people embracing, and it’s surrounded by mosaics with romantic lines from Peruvian poems.

On our final day in Lima we decided to book an excursion to the Palomino Islands. According to TripAdvisor, they promised we would see Humboldt penguins and sea lions, and that we’d get wet suits and have the opportunity hop in and swim with them. The reviews were less stellar. Most of the recent reviews said that the sea lions were extremely stinky, and that the water was too cold and the sea lions wouldn’t get in. We decided it was worth a try anyway. I don’t know why, but I expected we’d see maybe 10-15 sea lions. I am not exaggerating when I say there were THOUSANDS. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. We donned our wetsuits and were told to put our feet up in front of us to show the sea lions we were not aggressive. Soon enough, the sea lions were hopping into the water off the rocks and swimming all around us. It was absolutely breathtaking, and not just because they were smelly (they were). Our guide had goggles he passed around, and when I looked under water, they were all around us. Hundreds of them were swimming below and alongside us. It was insane. Truly one of the coolest experiences I’ve ever had. In theory, sea lions sometimes come up to you and kiss/lick your feet, but none of them did this to me. I was a little disappointed but also relieved because they are HUGE up close and intimidating. It was a real adrenaline rush.

In our $2 Uber back to our Airbnb to shower off the sea lion smell, I couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing the experience was, and I started getting soooo sad. My thought process went like this: “wow that was the coolest experience ever. I can’t believe I got to do that. I wish I hadn’t been able to do that. No, that’s not true, I’m really glad I got to do that. I had so much fun. I wish I hadn’t had fun. No that’s not true. I’m glad I had fun. But I wish I had a living child instead. If I had a baby, I wouldn’t have been able to do that. I’d rather have a baby. But I don’t get to choose. I wish I could choose. Why don’t I get to choose? Everything is so unfair. Why am I upset every time I’m happy? Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be happy? I hate who I am now. I don’t want this life.” Etc. etc. in circles. It’s really frustrating to be mad at myself every time I’m happy. Some may call this survivor’s guilt, but it isn’t really guilt. It’s more like a consolation prize. I’m happy I got a prize, but it pales in comparison to the real prize, the one I really wanted. And if I had a choice, I’d give up the consolation prize in a split second for the real prize. But I don’t get to choose, and that just fucking sucks. This was the first of many times during this trip that these spiraling thoughts happened to me.

There were many nights where I cried myself to sleep, but I am a pretty quiet crier, and I think mostly no one noticed even though I was sharing a room. Mornings used to be hard, back when I’d first wake up and realize my life wasn’t all a bad dream. But now, nights are the hardest, especially when I’m away from Chris, the one person who I feel truly understands what we have been through. Even he doesn’t always understand how I feel, but he understands best.

As we prepared to go to Cusco, which is approximately 11,500 feet above sea level, we were told to buy altitude sickness medication from a pharmacy and to start taking it one day before arrival. Since Manhattan is about 250 feet above sea level, I thought it would be smart to be prepared. However, as I googled the side effects, I realized that there may be some contraindications with my blood pressure medications I’ve been on since my pregnancy. I scrambled to message two of my doctors and hoped they would write me back. Thankfully they both did, but one of them recommended I down-dose my other meds, depending on what my blood pressure was reading at high altitude. I probably should have brought a monitor, but I didn’t. I spent the next 4 days worried I’d pass out in the street and end up in a Peruvian hospital. Thankfully, that did not happen, but the constant low-grade anxiety was not ideal. These are all just fun continuing repercussions of having a dead daughter, I guess.

The next morning, after taking two doses of altitude meds, we headed to the Lima airport to take a short, 80-minute flight to Cusco, where we would meet our fourth friend and begin our hiking adventures. Don’t get it twisted, we did not do the Inca Trail 4-day hike, we took a train to Machu Picchu. But we did do a good amount of walking and stairs over the next few days. We saw some of the most amazing landscapes I’ve seen in my life. I don’t usually go for blog post cliffhangers, but this one is already long, so get ready for Cusco and Sacred Valley adventures next week!

Can you see how many sea lions are behind us?

Miscellaneous

Burning Man Braids

September 13, 2023 5 Comments

I’ve taken up a lot of new hobbies recently, like eating pounds of gummy bears, making friendship bracelets, and re-watching Modern Family 90 times. But on top of those hobbies, I’ve also been keeping up with my hobby-turned-side-hustle: braiding hair! I first talked about braiding in July 2018, more than 5 years ago. When I look back at that post now and see the quality of my hairstyles, I cringe. But that is good, because it means I’ve been continuously improving.

When I first created an Instagram account just for hair, I followed 30 people. Now I have more than 4,000 followers myself! I haven’t talked about braiding on here since November 2021, when I braided 21 people for the NYC Marathon, but I’ve been quietly continuing my passion business, and I actually braided 20 people last year for the 2022 NYC Marathon. I’ve written before about how I randomly fell in with the running community, and it’s been so interesting to watch my business take off in ways I never predicted. I wasn’t sure if braids were just “having a moment,” but five years later, it seems like they are here to stay, at least for certain things.

Running braids have continued to be a big source of business for me, and I already have 11 clients booked for the NYC Marathon this upcoming November. But it’s not just running, people have found me for all sorts of reasons. So far this year I have had 32 separate clients, including 4 birthday parties, a 1:1 braiding lesson, hair for a family photoshoot, girls for school field days and before going to sleepaway camp, and of course a few people for the NYC Half Marathon. Somehow, despite having the most traumatic year of my life, my side business has been thriving. I’m not going to lie, the administration side of the business has been a challenge, since I mentioned that my cognitive functioning has been less than ideal. I accidentally double booked someone two weeks ago and had a minor freakout, but I tried to give myself grace and ultimately, I was able to reschedule everyone successfully.

You may be wondering why I decided to post now, during a random September week, about braiding again, and that’s because what happened three weeks ago was brand new: BURNER BRAIDS. If you haven’t heard of Burning Man before, you’re not alone. The event this year got more press than normal, so you may know about it now, but I knew very little until three weeks ago. It is an annual, week-long festival in the middle of the Black Rock Desert outside Reno, Nevada, where 35,000-70,000 people congregate and create their own temporary city. According to Wikipedia, where I got most of my information before talking to actual Burners (that’s what the participants are called), the event is guided by ten principles: radical inclusion, gifting, decommodification, radical self-reliance, radical self-expression, communal effort, civic responsibility, leaving no trace, participation, and immediacy.

You can either “open camp” or bring an RV. Once there, you mostly ride bikes around to other camps, and you aren’t allowed to have a car unless it’s a piece of art. You also cannot transfer any money, so everything is gifted between people. Each camp has their own unique gift, whether it is experiences, like a “human car wash,” or food, or a sangria bar. Everything you might need is provided by others. The desert area where people congregate is called “the playa” and people often say, “the playa will provide,” but what they really mean is, other Burners will help you out.

So, what does any of this have to do with braids? Well, first of all, the event is in the desert and showers are hard to come by. People who choose to come in RVs may have them, but it’s still complicated because you can’t dump used water in the desert and you aren’t allowed to leave a trace, so this makes hair-washing complicated. More importantly than the lack of showers, there is an abundance of sand. Specifically, the sand in Black Rock is not actually sand, it’s the alkaline remnants of an old lakebed. This means it sticks to everything including skin and hair. Burners are advised to bring vinegar to spray on themselves because it’s the only way to get it off. Between the wind and alkaline residue, long hair gets matted and often need to be cut before being detangled upon “reintegration” into the “default world.” Most Burners try to avoid this, therefore, braids. There are many threads on reddit dedicated to “long hair ideas” for Burning Man and almost all of them suggest braids.

Friends who braid together, stay together!

Between 2019 and 2022, I braided about two people per year for festivals, but this year it seems I went viral! I ended up braiding 13 people for Burning Man, and that was on top of my “real” full-time job! I was exhausted. In fact, I started turning people away a few weeks before because I knew I couldn’t handle any more. People often ask me if my hands hurt from braiding, but it’s not my hands, it’s my back! First of all, being on my feet is taxing. While I usually believe in a no-shoe apartment, I make an exception for braiding. When I’m leaning left to right, left to right, left to right, trying to get those stitches JUST RIGHT, it creates a lot of torque on my back, and shoes with good support help slightly. Laying on the floor also helps. Some days during the last month, I laid on the carpet before clients, and then again after.

Here’s me, laying on the floor pre-client.

I took so many amazing photos and videos of people’s hairstyles, and at first, I was trying to hold back from posting content on Instagram because I wanted to wait for photos from the actual event. But I couldn’t resist and I ended up posting three styles (here’s one!) that couldn’t wait. Also, I wasn’t sure if waiting made sense, since I couldn’t be sure if there would be any photos from my clients. The alkaline sand is not only bad for hair, but also bad for phones and cameras, and since there isn’t any cell phone service in the desert anyway, not all people choose to take pictures. However, sometimes people put together amazing outfits, and I wanted to see the hair together with the whole look!

The final weekend of Burning Man, as I was waiting not-so-patiently for my clients to come back, I was braiding two girls for Electric Zoo, another festival in New York, and they told me there was tragedy at Burning Man, with monsoon storms completely saturating the entire camp, and stranding tens of thousands of people in the desert due to road flooding. My first thought was, I hope they have enough food and water! My second thought was, I hope the braids hold up! As more news and videos came out, I was even more nervous. I heard they were told to conserve food and water, and that they did not know when people would be able to leave.

I waited and hoped, and posted on my Instagram stories to see if people were ok. About one week after, I sent direct messages to everyone to see if they were ok, and I was relieved to find that most said the news was far worse than the real situation. Everyone said that while it was extremely muddy, they all helped each other out and got home safely. I heard from a few people that they were extremely glad to have braids because once they were told to conserve water, hair washing was out of the question! Remember when I told you that I had a double-booking issue? My favorite story of the week was that two friends who came to my house to have their hair done, met another girl who was here at the same time because I was running a bit behind. They were talking together for a while, and they ended up meeting up in the desert despite not having any cell service! They took photos together and they looked so happy and awesome with their braids. It warmed my heart!

I can’t finish my blog without mentioning the necessary tie-in to last week’s post on small talk. In addition to hurting my back, the other thing that usually exhausts me from braiding is the constant chit-chat. I have an incredible amount of respect for full-time stylists who need to talk all day, it’s tiring! Add that to the fact that I no longer exceed in small-talk, and it’s especially grueling. One of the reasons I learned so much about Burning Man this year is because I employed my favorite tactic from last week’s blog: asking many questions so as not to have the conversation fall back to the topic of me. Braiding hair now carries an additional complication, especially when I am braiding for birthday parties, because the topic of children and how good I am with them tends to come up. When I did a family’s hair for their annual photos, it came up. I am always doing mental calculus about what to share and how to skirt the topic of family, but when I’m braiding in my apartment that I share with my husband, family inevitably comes up sometimes. I remember braiding clients in January with my ultrasound photos on the fridge in the back of my time lapse videos! This past month, thankfully I was only asked once about kids when we were talking about our relationships. I am never sure whether to be fully honest, but in this case, it was just the two of us, and I acknowledged that I had a daughter, but that she died. I kept it moving and immediately asked another question about how long she had been in her relationship. The moment passed, and I felt relieved and happy that I didn’t lie. It’s complicated because I want to be honest, but I try not to kill the mood. It’s not a secret that I lost a daughter and it’s pretty visible if you follow me on Instagram or watch my stories, so I try to strike a balance. I hope that with more time, I find it easier to talk about her in casual conversation.

Braiding for festivals this year was a blast and an exciting change of pace. When I braid for a race, I’m on a tight schedule with so many clients that I can’t try anything new. For the festivals, I have a chance to be creative and I try new styles I have never done. Each client came with their own inspiration, and I was able to bring the styles to life. I loved the freedom and creativity that went along with working with colored extensions and having more flexible time. I am not sure how many more clients I’ll be able to take for the rest of the year besides for the NYC Marathon, since I am traveling almost every week this season, but I’ll keep you posted. If you don’t already follow my hair account on Instagram, check me out @BraidInManhattan or look at my website, I even made a new section for Festival Hair!

Grief and Pregnancy Loss

Big Talk About Small Talk

September 5, 2023 No Comments

I used to be the queen of small talk. Also, I used to think everyone could small talk. That is, until I met my dear, beloved husband. He was the first person who pointed out to me that it is a skill, and not a skill everyone has. He, in fact, does not possess it. Don’t get me wrong, he’s extremely friendly, but he really doesn’t know how to talk about nothing. If you get him going on something he loves or has a passion about, say, the newest Apple product, or international politics, or police brutality, he can wax poetic and it’s difficult to get him to stop. But ask him how his day was? He will say “good.” End of conversation.

This blog isn’t about my sweet husband, though, it’s about me, and I have seemingly lost this important gift. I mentioned that Chris was the first person to tell me I was talented at small talk, but many other people have said similar things in different ways to me before. My best friend always used to say, “it’s so easy to take you places because I never have to worry about you, you make friends everywhere!” This is also why I make a great wing-woman. It isn’t really making friends, though, it’s just mindless chat, and finding little things in common with people so you can fill the time with a drink in your hand. I honestly never gave it a second thought, it’s just something I did with ease.

That is, until 6 months ago, when all of that changed. Small talk is hard now because it’s small. And what has happened in my life recently is HUGE. I can’t possibly think about the weather because I’m thinking about my dead daughter. I can’t think about someone else’s work drama because I almost died. I can’t think about how frustrating it is to deal with airline customer service, because all of my friends are pregnant and I am not even allowed to try to be.

I remember two events specifically where I realized I had lost the gift of small talk. The first one happened a few weeks after I left the hospital. I agreed to go on a walk in Central Park to see the cherry blossoms with a few friends. I was pretty nervous about it. It was the first time I was going to see a group of people, and the first time I was going to see a lot of these people post-baby. Walking there, I figured out a strategy: I didn’t want to talk about what happened with me, so I would ask a million questions about them. That’s exactly what I did. And the truth of small talk is that really only one side needs to talk, and the other side can just listen and ask a lot of questions. The main problem with this is that the question-asker is supposed to care about the answers, and I simply did not. For almost two hours around the reservoir in Central Park I heard about my friends’ dating woes, their job interviews, their vacation plans, all of the little things in life. But they were all just that: little. Meanwhile, all I heard in my head was the BIG thing in life. My empty uterus.

The issue is, when you don’t care about little things, but you don’t want to talk about big things, it makes socialization really difficult. The second event I remember, again I was in a group of people. We had planned a low-key short walk through a street fair and gelato outing. But it turned into a multi-hour affair. I didn’t want to talk about “the big thing” but I realllly didn’t care about everyone’s small things. All I wanted to do was go home and cry. And sleep. It was so exhausting feigning interest while also being constantly on edge that something about me might come up. I danced around it to try and remain engaged. I remember one person talking about their extremely high medical bills and I chimed in to mention that I had already hit by $5750 out of pocket max for the year. Besides that, I don’t remember any of the details of the conversations, since I was mostly thinking about going home, but not knowing how to remove myself from the situation.

When I leave events like that, and I realize I’ve basically blacked out my friends’ conversations and details about their lives, it makes me feel like a horrible friend. But the reality is, I just don’t care. In the grand scheme of things, all of the small things just feel so small! My therapist always chides me for my newfound social isolation, but it feels like a lose-lose situation when I’m around people. The cycle goes like this: I ask questions, I try to care, I fail at caring, and I feel like a shit friend.

I have noticed that this phenomenon is even more magnified when I speak to my pregnant friends. I, unfortunately, have 3 pregnant friends. Four before last weekend, but now I have three pregnant and one with a newborn. I could write a whole blog (or series) about how I am navigating these friendships, but for now, let’s just say, small talk is EXTREMELY difficult. For them, the main thing in their lives is being pregnant, having a baby soon, and the complete role-adjustment of becoming a parent. For me, the main thing in my life is not being pregnant, having a dead baby, and the complete role-adjustment of being an almost-parent, to being an empty, baren, not sure if I’ll ever be the parent of a living child. My pregnant friends don’t want to talk about their big things because they don’t want to upset me, and I don’t want to talk about my big thing because I don’t want to terrify them with my story. So, what does that leave for conversation? Small talk. Dumb work drama. Photos of their pets. Weather. Memes. It all feels extremely meaningless.

I actually pointed this out a while ago to my pregnant friend. Last November, she had gone through a pregnancy loss, and I was still pregnant. I planned not to talk about my pregnancy at all when we had dinner, but she kept asking questions, so I followed her lead and answered them as tersely as possible. When we saw each other in July, she was pregnant again, and I was not, and I was asking her questions. She said she hadn’t been talking to me about it because she didn’t want to upset me, but I explained that I had no interest in talking about the weather and I wanted to know how she was really feeling. This is all extremely complicated to navigate, and as the loss mom, I know I have to drive the conversation since I am the one whose feelings are being protected.

As for my non-pregnant friends, I have been trying as hard as I can to come back to my friendships and care about their lives. That sounds bad in writing. I find myself more and more like Chris, trying to get into deeper conversations that feel meaningful. Surface-level conversations now feel empty to me, so I have been working to have more one-on-one time with friends where we can actually talk about the real stuff. I’m seeking out spaces where I feel comfortable laughing, but also feel ok if I shed a tear. Maybe I don’t care that their Instacart order delivered the wrong milk, but I do care that their egg freezing cycle wasn’t as successful as they had hoped. Maybe I will zone out if they tell me that their husband left his socks on the floor 5 days in a row, but I will try hard to listen and relate if they tell me that their in-laws are driving them insane because they haven’t visited enough. I don’t want my friends to shy away from talking about their problems because they know my problem is HUGE. I may not be the queen of small talk anymore, but I am working toward being the queen of empathetic listening.

I am going on my first girls trip in 10 days. If I told you I was excited and not anxious about it at all, I’d be lying. It’s a huge step for me to hang out with multiple people for multiple days, with many many hours of conversation. As I move forward, I am trying to cultivate time and space with friends who can be there for both ups and downs. I know that all of my friends have their own struggles, and that we can hold space for both complaining about a long hike, and talking about grief and loneliness, all in the same sentence. For that, I’m grateful.

Peru Part Uno

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Burning Man Braids

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Big Talk About Small Talk

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