Hello Loved Family and Friends!
Greetings from Punta del Diablo, Uruguay.
New Year, new look:
My dear friend, Yoli, who is a gifted human beauty artist
said, “Sit down in the chair and forget all of your past notions about what you
think is an acceptable look for you. I’ve got a vision and it’s going to get
you out of your box.”
“I trust you 100%,” I said. “I’m ready for a change. Have
at.”
Four hours later she let me look in the mirror. Once my jaw
muscles had regained function, I said, “Holy shit! I look fabulous!”
That was yesterday. I
am as happy as I look in the photo.
One month ago I wrote to you from gate A3 of the Phoenix airport
the following start of a promised travelogue about my experience on the Camino:
November
23, 2013
I sit returning the gawk
of a three-month-old baby with what looks like a hot pink Loofah sponge the
size of a grapefruit pegged to her temple. It is held in place by an elastic
sweatband wide as any professional tennis player’s brow. Poor thing. She is struggling enough as it is
to keep her head from snapping right off. She is at that age. Now she’s got an
obnoxious blob of chiffon thrown into the balancing act. Mom used to attach
that extraneous, foo foo shit to me and I hated it. I’d pull it off within the
hour, until she started affixing it with such fervor that we had to cut it out
of my hair when she was ready for a
ribbon change. My heart hurts for the little one before me.
Anyway, enough random
writing… Today is a travel day for work and I’ve done enough trips to Cuba now
that I don’t have to spend it prepping, so I’ll see if I can whip out a report
on the last two months. I’m feeling fatigued,
though, and a bit scattered, for several reasons, but if I start obsessing over
cohesiveness, this will never get written. So, in the words of the dread-locked,
West Coast yoga instructor I took a class with yesterday, “Thanks for flowing
with me to the end, eh?”
I’ve been scattered
since last Tuesday when the invite to an all day audition in person for
Adventures By Disney appeared in my inbox. The original date they gave me, Dec
5, at Walt Disney World in Orlando, FL, coincided with a coveted trip to Cuba
(“Open and Courageous, Living the Values” has paid off, others are getting
bumped to accommodate my behind on the schedule—yes! cha-ching!), so I had to
go to the West Coast interview in California on Nov 20, which gave me less than
a week’s notice to make a decision, make travel arrangements and prepare. Make
a decision? Was there any question about accepting this invitation? Yes. Unlike
Grand Circle, Disney does not pay for any of the expenses incurred to interview
with them. Given that I was in Uruguay when I got the invitation, acceptance
assumed a hefty investment of time and money.
I don’t know. Something
came over me. I was star struck and felt possessed. Out of over 1,100
applicants, I made it to the final few. Since I’m still in the initial stages
of a new career, it seemed a prudent move. I went into autopilot and next thing
I knew I was in Los Angles. That’s very much like how it happened with the
Camino. I felt called to go and then, there I was. The between is a blur.
The whole interview process
was nerve-racking. Before arriving, I had to make a video of myself giving a
mock orientation meeting for one of the Disney trip itineraries. That required
great extensions of unconditional self-acceptance and loving kindness toward
myself, because I get all squirmy when I see me on film (especially pre-new
look).
At the interview I had to stand up in front of my fellow candidates and
six Disney executives to give a 2 minute introduction of myself and answer an
impromptu question. Out of a list of 40
thought provoking prompts, I got the dud: “Tell us about your most embarrassing
moment.” I went blank. I’m trying to eliminate shame from my repertoire of
emotions. I’ve worked hard to not have embarrassing moments swimming at the
surface of my psyche. I made up some clichéd bullshit about coming out of the
bathroom with the back of my mini-skirt tucked into my panty hose and a two
foot band of t.p. tagging along behind the high heel it was skewered on. Then I
confessed to that being a big fat lie, because you are more likely to see a nun
in a mini-skirt and heels than you are me. So, I told an anticlimactic anecdote from my 8th
year, when I missed the cue that Dad had hushed the crowd to say the Christmas
Eve dinner blessing and I blurted out to my cousin across the silenced room,
“Hey Ronnie!! I hope Santa brings me a shotgun!” That uneventful story provoked polite
chuckles from my competitors, more to show off for the judges their social
sensitivity to a floundering act on the stage than any authentic sign of
amusement.
The afternoon session was even
more grueling. We “speed dated” the executives, spending three minutes with
each one, role playing situations like, “One of your guests comes to you and points
out that the local guide said it was OK for them to feed and pet the wild
animals after you had said it was forbidden…What do you say to this guest and
the local guide?”
To the guest: “I don’t
recommend feeding or petting the animals, but feel free, if you’ve had a rabies
vaccine or don’t mind 20 injections in the belIy.”
To the local guide: “You
dumb fuck , ignorant goo-lute, don’t you know that 1. most of the
shit we eat isn’t fit for human consumption, much less animal intake 2. if we
feed the animals they form a dependence on us and eventually become a nuisance
3. it endangers every being present, because if you give a Snickers to one
monkey and not another, someone is going to lose a limb??????”
That’s what I thought,
but didn’t say.
But really, what
stressed me out as much as the actual audition was FINDING SOMETHING TO WEAR. First
of all, I H-A-T-E shopping. Second, I suffer from childhood mall trauma. Third,
I live out of a suitcase. Do you really think I’m going to cart around, country
to country, two pounds of fancy business wear that takes up six square inches
of prime case space on the chance that I might need it? No. So, at 8:59 pm the
night before the interview, my friend, Monica, and I are STILL in JC Penny,
ignoring last register call, trying to find me some duds worthy of Disney. When
they started flipping off the lights, out of desperation, I threw up on the
counter a pair of black slacks, four inches too long, and a snazzy green blouse,
one size too big. I hide the material overages best I could safety pins and a
blazer and went on with the show.
Anyway, the Disney Who-Ha’s said they will let
us know yeah or nay at the end of December…which, according to my calendar,
officially began three days ago.
The more immediate
reason I’m scattered is the piecemeal itinerary Travelocity rigged up to get me
from one coast to the other on a last minute budget tix. Four connecting
flights and a six hour layover don’t make for a well-rested Gigi. I spent last
night in the Phoenix airport bedded down like a homeless person in the only
corner I could find where there wasn’t a t.v. monitor blaring Drama, Doom and Destruction.
I’d just experienced those 3 D’s, in 3 D (i.e. live), two hours before at the
L.A. airport. Is it odd of me to feel disturbed by a swarm of helicopters
circling the airport and four of seven terminals under lockdown? I have to ask for a reality check, because things
of this nature seem to be increasingly the norm here in the U.S., which is part
of the reason I spend less and less time here. The “emergency” turned out to be
a false alarm. A car smashed into a pole, backfired and it was mistaken for a
gunshot. Of course, the whole thing was a knee-jerk reaction due to the real shooting
last week.
I feel like I am
circling the Camino experience searching for an entry point from which to tell
the story...
Back to now, December 19, 2013. I continue to circle the
Camino experience and apologize for it, because so many of you have expressed
an interest in hearing about it. I wrote in my Pre-travelogue 47 note to you
that I feel changed on an existential level and that continues to ring true,
increasingly so. Something has shifted. If cornered to give “something” a name,
I would call it self-empowerment. Speaking
of which, you know what? I’m going to make an executive decision right this
second to let go of the guilt and simply ask for an extension. Do you mind? I
want to write about my Camino experience. It is profound and, if shared, could
serve others. The deal is, though, it’s looking to be an absolutely gorgeous
day here in Punta del Diablo (sunny, 85F) and I want to be out in it, not tied
to a computer. I’ve already got Skype
meetings with my current manager and the director of another organization that
has offered me work in Cuba starting in February (cha-ching!). Then I’ve got to
get ready to go camping with Yoli and my tent hasn’t seen the light of day
since I moved out of the bush in 2011 (remember?). I would feel better if I
sent this as is and saved for another day the Camino experience. Cool?
Thanking you in advance for the choral response of “Cool!”
coming from many corners of the Earth and wishing you mountains of merry and heaps of happy for the
holiday season.
As always, with much love,
G
Here are some pics
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| View of rising moon off deck of my new living arrangement. Check out my new set of wheels, too. |
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| Inside |
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| Playing translator and nurse during my first trip to a Cuban hospital. |
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| Picture one of my clients from last trip drew for me as a gift. |
