The Unofficial Bacardi Girl (Puerto Rico)

Piña Colada? Cuba Libre? Mojito? 

Si, señorrr, I'll take all of the above.

I am the unofficial Bacardi girl. Earlier this year, my dance partner and I won the 10th Annual Bacardi Summer Salsa Competition in Chicago. The grand prize: round trip tickets to Puerrrrrrto Ricoooo! My bags were literally packed the next day.

While visiting the tropical island, I went to the Bacardi Rum Factory. I had my heart set on meeting Mr. President and thanking him personally for sponsoring my trip. Although I adamantly requested to see Mr. Bacardi to several tour guides, I had no luck. They all probably thought I was crazy and gave me polite vague answers telling me that the President was "not able to see me at the moment." Ha!

Hey, it was worth a shot...

Not to despair, I spent my time with my partner in crime, Chiarra, at the bar "sampling" all the Bacardi products. Although technically you are only given two sample tickets, we had no problem sweet-talking all the bartenders in letting us taste the entire variety of the Bacardi products (for research purposes, of course). I know, I know, it's a rough job but somebody has gotta do it.

Hanging out with Chiarra at the bar.

Drinking a Cuba Libre on a boat in the Caribbean. 

Damsel In Distress (Puerto Rico)

Phew! What an adventure it was arriving to Puerto Rico. I don't think I've ever felt this many emotions all in one day. Let me take you on my roller coaster ride. Strap yourselves in tight.

I arrived at O'hare airport at 4am in the morning, pimped out with the following items:

• an obnoxious hot pink sunhat (special thanks to Kathy)
• my movie-star sunglasses (also hot pink, stolen from a bartender in Scotland)
• a pink boarding pass (not pink on purpose, I was out of black ink)
• a backpack stuffed with all the skimpy summer clothes I own
• a cocky attitude

Yes, people did look at me and probably thought to themselves, "Now is that really necessary this early in the morning?" I didn't care. I was going on vacation to a paradise island in the Caribbean. Of course I'm going to flaunt it. And as obnoxious as I probably looked, I did receive several compliments about my hat.

"We are now calling all first class passengers to board the aircraft..."

Yup, that's me! "Excuse me, excuse me, VIP coming through...."

This was my first time ever flying first class. (I had to make a phone call to Delta to book the flight a couple weeks ago and the lovely lady I spoke with gave me a free upgrade to first class. Score!)

The minute I sat down in my seat, I passed out. It was too early to function. In no time, we landed in ATL. I got off the plane and tried to orient myself within the hoards of other travelers. When I finally found my connecting flight to San Juan on the giant television listing, I realized they were already boarding the plane! I sprinted like a madwoman towards the magical train that takes you from one terminal to the international terminal.

Upon exiting, I hear, "Final boarding call for San Juan, Puerto Rico."

"WHAT!?!?!" There is no way I was going to miss this flight! Of course, my gate is miles away, at the very end of the terminal. I don't think I ever ran as fast in my life!

Oh, I made it alright! The flight attendant greeted me with a glass of champagne. I chugged. Then breathed a sigh of relief and made myself comfortable in my seat. OK, I'm ready. Take me away to paradise island...

Three hours later, we land in Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport (SJU). Whoop whoop!

When I left the airport, I had a really hard time finding the bus stop to take me to the city. A couple of cute security guards pointed me in the right direction. After I got on the bus, we kept driving and driving and I didn't hear my stop. Well maybe we just didn't get there yet. So wee kept going and going...

At this point, I was 100% sure I was not at the right place. I decided to get off, figuring I'll just go to the bus stop across the street and take it back.

Yep, like may things in life, not so simple. There was no bus stop across the street. I walked along the road, still in my obnoxious pink hat, completely disoriented, with no map, carrying my heavy bag in the hot and humid weather, sweating profusely, trying to figure out what to do. Every Puerto Rican that drove by was staring at the pink blob on the sidewalk, me. Obviously, I didn't belong there. I reach a gas station and ask the attendant for help. She had no idea about how the bus system worked. She recommended I ask the men outside.

So lil' 'ol blonde me approached a couple of big tattooed Puerto Rican men in a questionable neighborhood with a sheepish smile.

Boy, I thought I knew how to speak Spanish. They tried to help me, but I couldn't understand their Spanish. After trying to decipher what was being mumbled for 10 minutes, I realized that this isn't going anywhere cause they also had no idea what I was saying. They recommended that a taxi was my best bet. So I go back inside and ask the gas station attendant to call a taxi for me as I waited around. She comes back and tells me that she called a couple companies but because it's Sunday, they don't operate. WHAT?!? Why!? That doesn't even make sense. Dammit Puerto Rico! What the heck am I supposed to do now? Where am the hell am I? How the heck do I get out of here? This is not my fantasy paradise island, but a sketchy neighborhood in the middle of nowhere.

I was freaking out on the inside, thinking that my life is probably over and I will probably have to sell my body on the street. A small Puerto Rican lady that overheard my conversation mentioned that there is a bus stop a few blocks away. So I grabbed my things and walked out. The second I step foot outside, it starts raining. First it's a light tropical drizzle, but a minute later, buckets of water are spilling from the sky. At this point, I am completely soaked and completely miserable. I may have even shed tears but I was so wet that I couldn't even tell.

I stood at the bus stop and stared at the cars drive by like a lonely lost puppy...

That's when I found Elsa. Gracias a Dios! Elsa is an older Puerto Rican lady that came to the bus stop with an umbrella in hand. First, she looked at me questionably. I got scared. Then she inched her way over and put half her umbrella over me.

Elsa was my savior that day. She explained how to get back to the airport and how to get to the city. She explained the bus system and pointed me in the right direction. She even talked with the bus driver to make sure he would stop at the right place for me. Boy, I couldn't thank her enough for saving my day.

Wet, starving and tired, I finally made it to my hostel. A fellow traveler was cooking some food and kindly offered me a warm meal. And that was all I needed. I was content. Even more than content, I couldn't be happier.

Today made me really appreciate the kindness of strangers, because everyday we cross paths with new people, and even the smallest of gestures can make the biggest impact.

Looking out from the airplane at San Juan, Puerto Rico

The Season Of Change

No other season brings a blend of raw emotions like autumn—of mystery and pensiveness, of reflection and nostalgia, of melancholy and excitement. There is something magical it.

It is the time of year that you that needed long walk in the park where you ponder endlessly. You put on that favorite over-sized sweater and hit the streets wearing your heart on my sleeve. You slip the headphones into your ears and let the the songs fill the heart.  You simultaneously feel the summer sun's lingering rays and the coming winter's cool blows.

As you walk, you can see the world change its colors, admiring the golden leaves being swept into the wind and then reluctantly falling to the ground. The crisp cool breeze kisses your cheeks as you squeeze the warmth of your sweater.

You observe the strangers that slowly pass you by, each lost in their own thoughts. You reflect on your past and imagine a perfect future.  You slowly and carefully organize all the little compartments in your brain. You let go of old and make room for all the new that is yet to come your way. Your mellow heart mingles in between the summer's commotion and winter's lethargy. As the world changes its colors, you too make changes within your heart and mind. You  piece together the puzzles of your life.

The days grow shorter, the nights get colder and your heart gets fuller.

You look forward.

Autumn is the time to sip on the hot chocolate, to swing in a hammock, to sleep-in those extra 5 minutes, to bite into the caramel apple, to read a classic, to snuggle underneath the blanket, to smell the spices, to eat your favorite comfort food, to give in to temptation, to indulge, to cuddle, to hug, to reflect ...

... and to feel like all is right with the world again.

Love, Locks and Lovers (Paris)

Thousands of delusional lovey-dovey couples flock to Paris every day. Paris is said to be the city of lovers, one of the most romantic place on earth.

Flowing through the heart of the city is the Siene River. One of my favorite parts of the city are the adorned bridges that are filled with hundreds of colorful love-locks. As tradition goes, lovers would get a lock and inscribe their names onto it. The couples would then lock it onto the metal bridge and throw the key into the river, symbolizing their eternal love and commitment for each other. How rrrromantic! (insert girly sigh here)

As you stroll on the bridges, you can admire or detest (based on how you feel about your current relationship status) the ocean of colorful padlocks adorned with little hearts and names of the lovers who proclaimed their everlasting love. Perhaps you can even add to the collection if you're there with a special someone, hmm? (insert nudge and creepy wink here)

Anyway, I later learned that the heavy metal locks quickly overwhelm the bridges as thousands of hopeful lovebirds of the world come to proclaim their never-ending love. As a result, every couple months, the city has to go around and clip the locks from the bridges. I hope those relationships last longer than the locks. So much for never-ending love, huh?

I think we all know the real winners of this tradition: the lock making business must be pretty lucrative in France.

The Language of Love

Our languages may be different, but our emotions transcend all barriers.

I know a couple (a Chilean muchacho and a Russian devotchka) that are head over heels for one another, yet neither of them speak each other's language. But it doesn't matter, because there is no stopping love.

I see them romantically stroll though the streets, as one hand squeezes the palm of their lover, while the other hand clutches to a small worn-out translation dictionary. Que romantico!

I suppose love goes beyond words.

A look, a wink, a smile, a kiss- the language of love is universal.

10 Things We Can Learn From Dogs

Ever notice the uncontrollable pure bliss of a dog as you barely step foot through the door? Dogs never fail to take pleasure in the simplest of things. Just seeing you, and they become ecstatic.

I've never had a dog when I was little because my mom always told me she was allergic. However, now that I'm older and gave it some more thought, I have become suspicious that those allergies were all just a scam because she didn't want to get stuck doing all the work.

Over the last few days, I've been hard at work dog-sitting two adorable pooches. My job description entailed ball tossing, smothering the pooches with attention, napping, swimming in the pool, and strutting my stuff.. err I mean, walking the dogs around the block. Spending my days with these pooches, they've taught me a thing or two. Or ten...


Here are 10 things that I've learned from these simple furry creatures:

1. Be hysterically excited to see everybody. The second you hear the doorknob turn, jet uncontrollably towards the door an jump all over the person in front of you. I mean, doesn't everyone want to be greeted with such enthusiasm every time? If we humans could add a little (or a lot) more pizzazz into our greetings, I think the world would be a better place.


2. Your good looks can let you get away with anything. I mean, who can resist that adorable puppy face? At the very least, it's always worth a try. 


3. Smell everything. A dog's nose is always twitching, sensing the world around them. We, too, should be smelling everything- food, flowers, treats, new people, potential mates and everything else in between. 


4. You're never too old to learn a new trick, or two. Yea, it's always hard in the beginning, but in the end, it may bring you never-ending amusement and satisfaction.


5. Nobody wants to be left alone. A quick run to the store left my dogs in despair. I couldn't even sleep in another room or take a shower without them scratching at the door. 


6. If it's not wet and sloppy, it's not a real kiss. Can't argue with that.


7. Always be curious. Who knows what you may find around every corner, under the rock or behind the bush? The world is a fascinating place, so never stop exploring.


8. Grooming is important, but sometimes you just gotta get down and dirty. Don't slack off on your personal hygiene, nobody around you likes that. But sometimes you may be offered with an opportunity to run wild, play in the dirt or swim at a beach. Don't ever pass up those moments of diversion and revelry.


9. Take lots of naps. A nap is the answer to any problem. Whether you're overworked, underpaid, overwhelmed, or undersexed-- a nap lets you recharge and gets you ready to tackle anything. 



10. Cuddle whenever possible. Period!

Trying to do some work on my computer, but somebody strongly insists we go for a walk instead.

La Vie En Rose (Paris)

"Parlez-vous français?'

Qui qui...

Eh...

... nope. Uh uh. Absolutely not. That accent is way too hard to learn. The best that we Americans can do is just to make fun of it. (oh-hoh-hoh-hoh)

Boy, who doesn't love the French? ... French fries, French toast, French dressing, French horn, and even French kissing. This country has got it goin on.

It was a real treat to visit the glamorous City of Lights. Paris (pronounced "pah-ree" in a nasally ostentatious voice) sure brings all the style, glitz and glamour that you see on tv and in magazines.

Paris is the world's most visited city, bringing millions of camera-strapped travelers to this city each year. And the Eiffel Tower is the most famous landmark in the world. I, too, joined the herds who flock to see this gigantic metal concoction. "You have to see it to believe it," and I must admit, standing in front of this protruding internationally-known structure made me feel speechless as I gazed in awe admiring its powerful presence in the sky.

Standing underneath the Eiffel Tower

The best part (and I'm not sure who's idea it was but it's friggn' brilliant!) was the thousands of strobe lights that were installed inside the tower. During the evenings, on the hour, every hour, for a couple minutes all the lights go off and the whole tower just glitters, like diamonds dancing in the sun. It was absolutely captivating! I tried taking photos and videos, but they don't even come close to capturing the true essence of the spectacle. You have to experience this breathtaking view in person. 

The Tower was originally supposed to be built in Barcelona but the idea was rejected because it did not "fit in" with the infrastructure of the city and was too expensive. Instead, Alexandre Gustave Eiffel and his company entered a competition to build this design as the entrance arch to the Worlds Fair in Paris. They won and the tower being built as  temporary structure that was supposed to move with the fair to different cities. The tower sparked a major controversy in the city because many Parisians did not want the cold metallic structure within the beautiful artistic city. However, it turned out that the structure attracted so many visitors and the French, too, fell in love with the tower so much that they didn't let it go and Paris remains the permanent home to this iconic modern structure. The Eiffel Tower is nicknamed "La Dame de Fer," meaning 'the Iron Lady." And I must admit, I couldn't help but blush as I walked underneath it's legs. Looking up, you could see all the layers, arches, stairs, elevators, and thousands of metal rods that are all so perfectly placed to hold up this magnificent structure.

On the steps of La Basilique du Sacré Coeur / Sacre Coeur Basilica

I continued with the tour of the city. I loved the city, but  the tour was killing me. I was the only non-lovey-dovey-honeymooner (puke) and ended up being each couples' photography slave as we visited the different landmarks around the city. 


When not being photo monkey, I did get a chance to stare up at the gargoyles of the Notre Dame, pass through the biggest art museum Louvre, see the monument of the Joan of Arc, stroll through the major retail Avenue des Champs-Elysees, and admire the tokens and trinkets at overpriced souvenir shops. I also attended a French mass at the Sacre Coeur Basilica. I find it rather amusing that this famous holy catholic church overlooks Quartier Pigalle, aka "Pig's Alley," aka "the redlight district." Down the hill from the holy Basillica are streets lined with sex shops, clubs, a gigantic Sexodrome and the world famous cabaret, the Moulin Rouge.

In front of the Moulin Rouge

Put on your art appreciation hats. At the Louvre alone, thousands and thousands of pieces of art are in display. Rumor has it that if you just spend 30 seconds at each piece, you would be there for a few months to get through everything. So, much like the rest of the crowd, I joined the masses and went straight to see the famous Mona Lisa. The painting is a whole lot smaller than I always have imagined it to be in my mind.

A typical day of Mona Lisa at the Louvre

One of my favorite parts of the city were the romantic love locks that clung to various bridges throughout the city, symbolizing each couples the eternal love for another. How romantic!


As I strolled through the streets in Paris, I devoured delicious pastries for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The pastry shops in Paris are around every corner and each offer their own unique delicacies. I also ate exorbitant amounts of cheeses and drank too much wine. Boy, if I ever lived in this city, I would either A) become a pastry chef apprentice and eventually open up my own shop B) become a snobby wannabe wine connoisseur C) lose all self-restraint and become an overweight drunken cat lady, or D) all of the above.


Finally, I also learned that you don't need a wine opener to open a bottle. You can just put the bottle in a shoe and bang it against the wall and eventually the cork comes out. I swear, it works! You can probably find some instructional videos online if one is really interested, or desperate.


P.S.


Thank you, thank you, thank you, Scott, for kindly letting me crash at your place, as well as graciously offering your time to show me around the gorgeous city!

Olena and Scott

My Love Affair With Dance

You are standing in a dark crowded room. You feel the beat of the music pulse through your veins. You slowly scan the room, taking in the surroundings, when suddenly you lock eyes with a stranger from across the floor. You flash a smile, as he extends his hand to you. You squeeze the palm of his hand and slowly follow him to the dance-floor.

You stand face to face as you put your hand around his shoulder.You listen. You feel. You take a small step as you begin to sense the feel and rhythm of each others bodies.

There is a fire burning inside of you. You're enveloped by the senses- the look of his gaze, the feel of his touch, the smell of his cologne, the sound of the music, the thirst for another breath of air.

You lose complete control as you give in to the beat of the music. You don't think, you just feel. It's raw emotion. It's pure passion. Your feet flawlessly fall into step, your arms swing around each other, your hips move to the beat of the drum, your back arches, your hair sways, you breathe harder and harder. 

You twist. And turn. And dip. And twirl.

Your heart is beating a thousand times a minute as you desperately grasp for air. The world around you blends with colors and the images becomes abstract.

Your bodies are completely consumed by the rhythm.

Your spirit soars.

That beat, that rhythm, the connection, the movement, the passion- that is what creates the magic in dance.

It's style. It's art. It's my inspiration.

The Lens Through Which We View The World

"It's not necessarily the reality that shapes us, but the lens through which your brain views the world that shapes your reality."

Shawn Anchor, a positive psychologist and Harvard lecturer, shares some funny stories and offers some great advice in helping us understand the happy secret to better work. He argues that actually happiness inspires productivity, rather than the other way around. And we can control our happiness  through the lenses in which we view the world. 

This is one of the best speaker videos I've seen. I hope you like it.

Around Town Chicago With OJ [VIDEO]

Lights. Camera. Action!

Featuring my first on-camera debut:

Whether you're a thousand miles away from home or in your hometown, we never stop exploring. Join me as I show you around my hometown, Chicago.

On my way to becoming a TV travel host, maybe?

A special thanks to my devilishly handsome cameraman, Zach, and personal English coach, Nick. We ended up with 30 minutes of footage, but only a small portion of the actual content was used to create this 90second rated-G clip, as all the background inappropriate comments and shots from the very mature and professional aforementioned production crew had to be cut out. Always a blast! Stay tuned for the blooper video...

Chicago skyline aerial view

I Am Left Brain. I Am Right Brain.

From adsoftheworld.com,  Paint by Mercedes Benz

Left Brain says:

“I am the left brain. I am a scientist. A mathematician. I love the familiar. I categorize. I am accurate. Linear. Analytical. Strategic. I am practical. Always in control. A master of words and language. Realistic. I calculate equations and play with numbers. I am order. I am logic. I know exactly who I am.”

Right Brain says:

Do Not Forget To Be Happy!

Pablo Neruda, a poet and a legend, always captures my heart through the way he paints with words. 

In fact, it was through his love poems that I was learning Italian when I was in Rome. My Couchsurfing host had a book of love sonnets by Pablo Neruda that were in Spanish on one page and Italian on the other. Every night before I went to sleep, I would read his poems as my heart melted and I soared through dreamland. Yep, I'm now one of those- a hopeless romantic. You would be, too.

Below is one of my favorite poems, not a a love poem, but just as good. It offers us a reflection about the way we live our daily lives: (English version below)


Original Version in Spanish

Muere lentamente quien no viaja,
quien no lee, 

quien no escucha música,
quien no halla encanto en si mismo.