Today I...don't know if I can find the words.

So I guess its a good thing I have almost a thousand pictures. If a picture is worth a thousand words I guess I have the equivalent of almost a million words in some of the most captivating images I could ever hope to capture.

Two nearly perfect days in Havana - in spite of the plague and a detour to the Tropicana when we should have saved our Pesos and just found some hole in the wall place with the most amazing live music that eminates from every corner and every side street in Old Havana.

In no particular order I...

Bought original art that is beautiful and colorful and captures Havana how I want to remember it. And what was such a small price for me gave three local artists hundreds of their local pesos.

Watched the restoration of a beautiful Cathedral.

Had the best Capuccino I have ever tasted! Actually...had two. And I believe Krista and I would still be there ordering up a steady stream had Old Habana not been calling to us.

Enjoyed cold afternoon cocktails in a tiny park while a Lenny Kravitz look-alike busked for spare change. For four pesos and a beer we were entertained by a Beatles / Bob Marley tribute for more than an hour.

Watched the live action version of Discovery Channel Cuba. There are a lot of dogs that need to be spayed or neutered in Old Habana!

Ate dinner in the square in front of Catedral de San Cristobal.

Stayed at hotel that is a gorgeous colonial restoration - with crap air conditioning but so much character we didn't care. Well...after my third cold shower I didn't care.

Bought a fascinating comic / sticker book that depicts scenes from the Revolution. Who wants some cheesy souvenier when you can have a book of propoganda that some child put together with absolute care and precision. Collecting stickers - are you ready for this? - that came in packages of cigarettes! Not your average "Need it. Need it. Got it." hockey card trading scenario to be sure.

Saw Habana Vieja (Old Havana) from the roof of Hotel Raquel and it literally took my breath away!

Ate an amazing, flavorful breakfast for four pesos at a tiny patisserie that we had watched locals lining up at every time we walked by - the best way to choose a spot to eat I've decided.

Walked for two days straight without even feeling the nasty infection in my feet because I was so captivated by what I was seeing.

Wished I could speak Spanish.

Nearly got a Havana cab driver arrested in Matanzas because we wanted to stop to take pictures and he was not licensed to stop outside of Havana. He earned his generous tip and we got some fabulous shots.

And...took nearly a thousand pictures which I will cherish for a lifetime.

Today I...have the worst case of deja vu EVER!

I am in Varadero, Cuba. It is gorgeous and sunny and hot. The beach is beautiful. The water is beautiful. The people I am travelling with are fabulous. The locals are funny and friendly and colorful.

We went for dinner last night. Outdoors. In February.

We toasted this fact, as one would, when used to hunkering down in a long cold deep freeze of a winter. In fact, we were practically giddy about it given that we were missing some of the coldest weather Canada has ever recorded.

And during dinner...I got bug bites on my feet and ankles.

And by the time I went to bed they were inflamed and red and angry.

Hmmmmm...this seems familiar.

Having learned my lesson in Cairo I did not choose to ride it out this time. I practically bathed in Benadryl spray and took two Benadryl capsules before bed. More spray and more pills in the morning...

And now, 24 hours later, I have been to the resort medical clinic because I have a ring of bites around my right ankle that are infected - one had swollen to the size of a loonie. And once again, I am hideously deformed with the plague. And once again my feet are twice their normal size. And once again I am having palpitations about staph infections and flesh eating disease in a third world country. And once again I am on some form of what I assume is penicillin.

Seriously, the moment I get home I am going to visit my travel Doc for an open ended prescription of Amoxycillin which will take up permanent residence in my travelling pharmacy!

I have to say though, the one departure from the nightmare deja vu is that this time I have a full on support team who are vigilantly watching over me.

Although, we did have to get a little creative in the absence of gauze. In a pinch, I have to say organic cotton panty liners are highly effective at keeping flesh eating disease wounds clean!

Today I...drained my camera battery in one day.

This is a first for me. Usually it lasts a week or more. So clearly I have a good camera battery or I have not been taking nearly enough pictures everywhere else I have been.

But today I was in Havana, Cuba. And I am sure I could have drained two camera batteries if I had more time.

What an absolutely amazing place. A city caught in a moment in time. A city on the verge of what could be a brave new world or the complete obliteration of a culture. A city that is so intensely vibrant and colorful and full of life in spite of the opression that you know lurks in every dark corner. But I have to say, the sun burns hot and bright there. On most streets, its tough to find a dark corner.

We are going back later in the week and I cannot wait. Now that I have the complete awe out of my system I can't wait to know what I will see and feel there the second time around.

This city, and this country, certainly gives one perspective. I am so excessively fortunate. I am struck by the sweet simplicity of not knowing that there is just so much "stuff" out there to want. Boys playing in the streets with a piece of wood and a ball. What I would have given to be able to give them baseballs and bats! Our covert source for cigars on the beach choosing which child he would buy new shoes for this month...and counting how many months before he could buy himself a new t-shirt. But not seeing them want more things.

Pesos for sure. There are a lot of beggars in Havana to be sure. And moms teaching their wee ones to beg or to pose for pictures to get pesos from the touristas. That is unsettling. And we learned a new word - Jinetero - male hustlers who work old havana and the markets to try to sell you crap cigars or force you to pose for pictures so you have to give them a peso.

But there are also a lot of enterprising "entrepreneurs" in Cuba who know how to make themselves a buck and not get caught doing it. And, I'll be honest, if I was to live and work there I would want to be a bar tender. On a good day those guys take home what a doctor would make in a month.

I've met a lot of new people this trip so I've been asked often about my job. Someone asked how many countries I have been to. I had to stop and think...and then I had to count again because it has been 7 countries in 6 months.

Now I know you can do 7 countries in 10 days in Europe if you're determined, but some people won't get to see 7 countires in a lifetime.

And each of them has taught me something different about myself or about the world or has shown me how to see the world in a whole new way.

Until today Cuba had taught me that I really can "shut it off" and be disconnected - and not fret about that. And the people that I have been experiencing Cuba with have taught me the deep importance of family. And I may possibly also have had a moment or 10 where I have learned that it is really ok if it is not always about me.

I haven't quite got my soul around what Havana taught me today. I can't wait to go back and work that out.

Today I...am shaking the Indonesian sand out of my knickers...

...and am wondering if there is some higher power trying to force me to get over my passion for clean feet.

First, a comment about my beautiful life: I have a really, undeniably, deliciously beautiful life. I went to Indonesia. For the weekend. Because I could. And when you can do something like go to Indonesia for the weekend there is just no excuse not to. And I am pleased to report that, while I silently got really excited about the fact that the entry visa takes an entire page in my passport plus an entry stamp and an exit stamp, 97.2% of the caucasian's in the ferry terminal were visibly and vocally very excited about this. There's a silly little thrill you get when entering a country consumes an entire page - or more - in your passport. I'm happy to report that I still get a thrill out of what the new stamps in my passport look like with every new country I visit. I hope that never changes.

Second, I am seriously beginning to wonder if there are forces at work that are greater than I saying "Yo! Lady! Get over your feet already!"

So, I can imagine my lovely parents reading this and thinking about all of the road trips we went on when I was a kid. I'm not sure if they were fully aware of my issues about clean, dry feet. But they were certainly aware of my issues with public washrooms. I hate them. When I was younger I loathed them with a deep and voracious passion. It cracks my parents up to no end to talk about all the times when I desperately needed to use the lou only to flatly refuse to do so because there was a fly in the washroom. Or dirty tiles. Or a spider. Or water leaking. Or an outrageous stench of death. But it didn't take much to get me to hold it for hours. A simple little housefly was more than enough to convince me I really didn't need to go after all.

I've managed to over come this to some extent. However, its actually more like I've evolved to have "acceptable bathroom radar". I am not ashamed to tell you that I plan my water intake around when and where I am most likely to encounter an acceptable bathroom. For instance, most bathrooms at a 5 star resort are likely to be acceptable. All bathrooms in a fishing village on the Island of Bintan are guaranteed not to be acceptable.

Somewhere along the way I also developed a need to always have clean, dry feet. Now, there are some exceptions to this rule - wet feet when in the shower or in a swimming pool are acceptable. Wet feet on cold, wet, change room floors are not.

Wet, sandy feet savoring the ocean are definitely acceptable. Wet, sandy feet stepping into an oil slick on the beach...you guessed it, NOT acceptable!! I was on a gorgeous beach on a gorgeous day. I was moving my lounger to allow myself to soak up some sun when I felt a squish. And I looked down. And I tried to speak and nothing came out. And then, in spite of wanting to hyperventilate, I managed to say "What did I step in?!?!?!" And it would not rub off in the sand. And it would not rub off in the grass. And when I reached down to try to pull it off my foot I realized it was oil. The kind you send to a refinery so that they can clean it all up nice so you can put it in your car. Sticky, black, thick, heavy oil soaked sand and various oil soaked flotsam was stuck to my foot.

Now I know this raises all kinds of horrifying questions about how we are poisoning our earth, but all I could really think about in that moment was "Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!!!" And then I spent the next 15 minutes using sand and ocean water to try to separate the oily schmengy from my feet and exfoliate it out of my skin...because it was now on my feet and my hands.

And so when I got back to the hotel in Singapore tonight the first thing I did was bolt straight to the pharmacy in the mall attached and buy a pumice stone. And then, in spite of the heat of the day, I had a wickedly hot shower and I pumiced the ever lovin' hell out of my feet.

They're clean now. And they're dry. But I think I will need to repeat this process daily for the next three days and have a pedicure before I truly am convinced of that.

Today I...am not a very graceful traveller.

Or...alternative title for today's post...Today I am in hell, and its name is LAX!

Depending on events leading up to a long journey, I often actually look forward to the "long haul" if for no other reason than, should I decide to be reflective, it gives me a lot of time to reflect. I am unreachable for many hours at a time. And, possibly I am just lucky or am an expert at employing "the power of the secret", but I am a very lucky traveller.

Today was no different. Today was a 24 hour journey. And on my journey today everything went precisely right.

Every flight (3 of them) was precisely on time. Turbulance was oh so mild. My luggage was precisely where it was meant to be, when it was meant to be there - twice. Food on Singapore Airlines was fabulous. Wasn't hungry on the Air Canada leg so no worries about their not fabulous food. I slept. For seven hours on the Tokyo - LA flight. I worked. I read.

And miracle or miracles...my feet didn't even swell!

However, in spite of all that, today was the most pedestrian, obnoxious, draining travel day!

4 airports. 1 of which was LAX. If you've ever transitted through there I need say no more.
+
3 boardings. 3 de-planings.
+
3 not so patient waits in long holiday travel immigration lines.
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1 long walk between terminals. The air in LA felt nice for the first 30.7 seconds. And then I proceeded to walk the 10 city blocks between terminals. That's right...if terminal to terminal transport exists at LAX there was a conspiracy against me because no less than four uniformed LAX employees told me "No ma'am. You gotta' walk." Not that I mind a walk when I've been on a 10 hour flight but...really?!? And for 99% of that lovely walk I walked past entrance after entrance after entrance to terminals 4 - 3 - 2 - 1...where all of the smokers are out having a puff.
+
432 children who were well past their tolerance of the joy that is air travel.
=
Teri is not so in love with the travel day!

In LAX alone I...

1. Had my calves crashed into by the fine, sophisticated traveller behind me in the immigration line so many times I finally took a very deep breath, turned to him, smiled, and very sweetly said "You seem a little impatient. Why don't you go ahead of me." And he did. He mumbled an apology, but he did take my place. Unacceptable! But I did not feel the need to cause a scene and get hauled into secondary. I was already miserable enough. I would not have been a good sport about that. In fact, I would probably still be there. And the Japanese couple who were then behind me were lovely and funny and helped pass the time.
2. Watched as, of the four immigration dudes serving my lane of about 200 passengers, three went on their breaks. Forever the optimist I expected someone to come take their place. But no. That would have made sense. Instead, one lonely soul was left to deal with all of us. Per usual I found the "weary smile" went a long way. He took one look at me, glanced at my passport and immigration form, stamped, and wished me a pleasant day. I am not sure if he was aware of the beautiful irony of that statement.
3. Waited a reeeeee-dic-u-lusssss amount of time for an elevator to take me up one level from arrivals to departures. There were no stairs. No escalator. No other way of escape. I was over-heated. I was tired. I was grumpy. I was desperate for the Maple Leaf Lounge. The elevator finally came. I got in. The doors closed. I Waited. And waited. I took yet another deep breath and prayed fervently that it was not stuck. And the elevator began to move. I could not get off that thing fast enough!
4. Went through security. I had forgotten that I was going through a US airport. I was wearing flip flops. I was going to be required to take them off. I, as you know by now, am moderately obsessed with having clean feet. I had some issues with this situation. I also had issues with the fact that they closed two of the four security lanes and created a bottle neck of epic proportions.
5. Was so flustered by the waiting and the lines and the near miss in the elevator from hell and the removing of my shoes that I walked through the metal detector with my cell phone in my hand. So was made to walk back, put my phone through the xray, and go through again. All the while in turmoil over the fact that I am walking through LAX security with bare feet!!!
6. In desperation for civilization and caffeine I went to Starbucks. God love Starbucks. The Barrista was actually even friendly. However, she did not secure the lid on my cup. I spilled latte all over my passport. I am such the International Woman of Mystery right about now!
7. Went in search of the oasis of the Maple Leaf Lounge. Ahhhhhhhhh. Tranquility....until I was turned away because of aforementioned Starbucks latte. "Ma'am we do not allow any outside food or beverages."

My response: "Seriously?!?"

Her response: "Seriously! Did you not read the sign on the door?"

My response: "You mean the door that is about as thick and heavy as a bank vault? That door? Apparently I was too busy balancing my laptop case, purse, carry on with fragile gifts, passport, boarding pass, and LATTE to notice."

And since they do not allow luggage carts once inside security and I of course was not travelling light, I turned around, pulled open the giant door that was as thick and heavy as a bank vault, and spilled more latte on my passport.

Needless to say, once I had dutifully finished what was left of my latte, I returned to the lounge, logged on to aircanada.com and submitted a most eloquently worded comment that essentially indicated how interesting I find it that they will allow me to spend an inordinate amount of money to travel with them but will not allow me to enjoy a latte in their lounge. I am sure I will enjoy their response.

And then I remembered my feet. But I was in an executive lounge. The bathrooms are great. I could take care of this.

Except in LAX. Where I walked around the entire lounge like a moron looking for the bathrooms. Approached the same lovely attendant at the desk and inquired where they might be.

Her response: "Oh. They're out in the main concourse, down the escalator across from the Starbucks."

My response: "Seriously?!?"

Her response: "Seriously."

Today I...am grateful for Purell Anti-Bacterial gel in regulation size bottles.

Today I...determined that no one who reads my blog speaks Malay

Today I...went to Malaysia.

That's right. I woke up. Showered (for the first time), had breakfast, and went to Malaysia. Just like you could do that any time the whim struck you.

And after passing through the rather intimidating "Woodlands Checkpoint" in Singapore - which looks startlingly like a prison where one would never ever wish to go - I started seeing signs everywhere that read "Salamat Datang". And I thought, where have I heard that before? And then I remembered the signs for the "pre-circumcision" party that my colleagues and I inadvertently crashed a few weeks ago. We thought that the party was to "Welcome Salamat Datang". As it turns out, it was just a bi-lingual sign. That's right. Salamat Datang means "welcome" in Malay.

Good to know.

Even so, I continue to believe the pour wee soul who was being welcomed that day was a boy because, again, it just makes me feel better.

Today I also got some amazing photos in spite of having far too little time to explore Melaka, one of the oldest cities in South East Asia. However, even if I had more time I don't know how many more photos I would have gotten since my battery died on the bus on the way back to Singapore as I was looking through the pictures of the day.

I love this exploring. This attempting to capture the life and the color and the spirit of a place. And - as I had FAR too much time on my hands on the interminable bus ride back to Singapore from Melaka (Malaka? Malacca? - You say Melaka, I say Malacca, lets call the whole thing off? They spell it at least four different ways...sometimes in the same brochure or web site) - I had to wonder...

If I went to my home and tried to look at it through eyes that had never seen it before, what would I see?

What unique, beautiful architecture?

What captivating human souls?

What quirky, funny, or unusual moments would I capture? Just because I was actually looking!

And I was thinking about all of the shots that I miss.

The deeply stirring, richly colorful monks who walk too fast and duck around the corner before I can frame the shot.

The hundreds of students in vibrant yellow shirts climbing ancient stone stairs up a brilliant green hill to the ruins of a Portugese church that I can't capture because of the obnoxious tourist trying to get a photo of his shrill girlfriend who keeps moving - in precise mirror image to my movements to avoid her - into the centre of my frame.

The ancient crumbling doorframe that I simply cannot frame without being crouched in the middle of the narrowest road where I am continually being honked at because, lets face it, I am continually having near misses with various scooters, motor cycles, lorry mirrors, or...my all time favorite...the near miss with the bus!

And then, of course as always on these excursions, the journey "home" took far too long and I had to keep reminding myself what an amazing day I had had.

And then we had dinner on a beautiful outdoor patio. In December. And I fell back in love with my life.

And then I remembered how spicy and sticky I was...and that I had used public toilets all day...and that worst horror of all...my feet were dirty!! So I came back to my room to shower (again) and tell you about my day.

Today I...really love Miller Harris Shower Gel and fluffy white towels! But more than that, I love that there are postcards from Malaysia on my desk just waiting to send messages home to a few of the people I miss the most.

Today I...took an entire day off!

I have to admit that, even though I work long intense days, and clearly this gig is for real - I still have to sort of pinch myself and ask "Is this really my life?" every now and then.

I just spent an hour sorting through photos and uploading them to smugmug and I have to say I am so utterly amazed that I get to have this life.

But the funny thing is, whenever I post photos I get a lot of emails (which I love, so please keep writing!) and many of them say things like "Wow, it looks like you're really enjoying as much time exploring as you are working" or "You look so relaxed, you must be getting lots of R'nR".

The reality is that when I am on the road I pack as much fabulousness into the one day off I get each week as I possibly can. Take a thousand pictures. And post what looks like 6 days exploring.

And honestly...I am usually as refreshed after that one fabulous day as I would be after a week off. Which is a good thing. Because let me tell you a little bit about my week.

First, I have been having conference calls. A lot of conference calls. With Toronto and New York. Which means that the earliest they start is 9 pm my time. Usually they are more likely to start at 11 pm my time.

The lovely thing about conference calls at this time of day is that I do have time to go to the gym after work...which gives me a second wind...which gives me the ability to focus and actually contribute to aforementioned conference calls and make them productive.

The more lovely thing about conference calls and second winds at this time of day is it gives me a chance to chat with the godesses of brand marketing in TO. These calls are also productive, but decidedly less so than the ones where I have to be all "businessy". They usually end with me crying with laughter and my pal Nat saying "Teri I HAVE to hang up now. I'm laughing so loud I'm making a scene". But I'm sure its worth it because between her and I we have come up with an amazing campaign to rebrand...um....never mind.

One of the things we were completely undone by this week was the fact that with two words I nearly got someone fired. Well...not so much fired really as told there was no longer a need for their services. The team here is very eager to please. They are also desperately concerned about losing. There is a word for it. "Kiasu". I have grown to hate this word. It literally means "afraid to lose". No one has yet been able to give me a Mandarin word for "driven to win". So their motivation - and they have a lot of motivation - is driven by fear instead of by strategy or desire or just raw competitiveness. They also don't like ambiguity. Nothing stresses them out more than ambiguity. So I have learned to be very concise in my answers and direction.

So, when I was asked "Should I tell him this is the final E communication we will be sending using our previous method and database". I said "Yes. Absolutely." And a dark and deeply troubled look crossed her face and she repeated the question. And I repeated the same answer and moved blythely along to the next item on the agenda. Until about 5 minutes later she meekly interrupted and said..."But I am just not sure how to address this because his contract does not end until June."

At which point I said..."Oh no!!! No! NO!! That is not what I meant!!"

So I am most delighted that on my very first day here I strongly encouraged everyone to ask questions and ensure they had clarity before taking any action or completing any item in the project plan. Phew!! Can you just even imagine?!? I am beginning to see why consultants get a bad name. "Who told you to terminate his contract?" "Teri told me to."

And yet, while they cannot abide ambiguity they do love wildly over the top copy writing. Joel, you would find it unequivocally sublime I am sure. I get emails from Toronto that read like this..."Does this really say "enflamed with a burning desire"? Really?" Full stop. No preamble. No salutation. No close. Just copy angst. So my response was, "I gave her my Harlequin Romance Guide to Copywriting. You don't like that style?"

Nat, just so you know, I just noticed today that there is a poster in the elevator wishing everyone "Season's Greens with Jim Beam". I am confused. If it was a golf promo I could see the play on words...maybe. I think perhaps you really should jump on the next plane. I don't have time to manage copy writing. I have revenue to generate!