To all those of you who voted for Trump.

In light of recent events, and particularly due to the protests taking place tonight and tomorrow in Madison, I thought I would write my opinion regarding the latest issues. 

Firstly, I want to be clear on my position. I understand that not everyone who voted for Donald Trump did so because they agree with his racist, misogynist, bigoted comments. I understand that many of them voted because they fear for the economy, and because they are exercising the power they have to choose a representative. However, while I am able to acknowledge this, I cannot say that I agree with or support that decision. 

Voting is a way of validating your existence as a citizen. When you granted Trump your vote, you decided that while asserting your existence was important, it didn't matter to you if you invalidated mine, along with that of 50 million immigrants, and countless students, workers, and expats who are here legally, and rightfully. You decided that our lives were somehow less important than yours. 

Now, let me tell you something else. The problem is not that Trump won. Trump is an entertainer, a businessman, a character, and a public figure. His relative success in business stems from telling people what they want to hear. He told you, Trump supporter, that your racist, sexist, narcissistic ideas were valid, correct, and encouraged. He told you what you wanted to hear in order to gain your vote. Trump is a demagogue, and borrowing from the words of H.L. Mencken, "the demagogue is one who preaches doctrines he knows to be untrue, to men he knows to be idiots". The problem is not Trump. The problem is that you believed him. The problem is that, regardless of why you chose to do so, you granted him your vote. You granted him your confidence, and you put the continuity of your nation as a land of freedom in his hands. The problem is not Trump. The problem is you. 

Two days ago, you put the stability of your country in the hands of a man with no government experience. You put the lives of fifty million people at risk, because they were born somewhere else. You threatened my rightful, legal ability to study in the U.S. because I was raised with values different from yours. Heck, I was raised with values. Two days ago, you decided that because our skin tones are two shades darker than yours, we are worthless. That because I am a woman, I can be manipulated, violated and discarded. That because I am Mexican, I am a criminal. 

Today, when I see my friend crying because she fears for her parents who were born abroad, when I call my mother and she is worried, when I am uncertain of my future in this country and of the stability of my College education, I do not forgive you. When my classmates feel left out of the community because they wear the hijab, and when I see people protesting, and in fear, I do not forgive you. I do not understand you, I do not support you, and I do not respect you. Because regardless of why you voted for Trump, your vote expressed your support for blatantly discriminating Muslims, for acting against the LGBTQ community, and for violently targeting minorities. If there comes a day when Palestine is wiped off the map, I hope you voter, hold yourself accountable, because that is exactly what your vote endorsed. 

To all those of you who are saying things along the lines of "regardless of the outcome of this election, let's all stand united and not allow love to die, and hate to divide us...", understand that you are speaking from a privileged standpoint. Know that you are lucky to not have your family in danger, to not have to worry where and how you are going to live, to not worry about your livelihood being threatened by people who took the elections as a joke. Know that whatever is next depends on how you choose to act towards the millions of people who had to stand idly watching you decide our future. Know, and understand the power that you hold today, and use it to really, actually, stop hate from further dividing your country. 

2 years, 2 months, 1 week, and 1 day later.

2 years, 2 months, 1 week, and a day. 

That's how long it's been since I left home for the first time. 

Since that day, it's been 4 countries, 9 cities, 5 apartments, and 3 different schools.

After being all around the place, when people ask me why I chose Wisconsin (of all places!), the answer is actually rather simple: it felt familiar. I wanted College to represent some sort of stability. I wanted to live in a place that felt like my own, where I could see regular faces, and have something to hold onto. 

My memories of Madison consisted of hot summers, running barefoot in the grass, spending the day coming in and out of the pool, and eating warm berries right after I picked them from the trees. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that Madison is only warm for about 2 months before it gets colder than Siberia, and during that time, the most exciting thing to happen here are the protests of the Westboro Baptist Church against the "whorehouse" that is my University (I wish I was kidding). 

It took me a whole year of complaining to adjust to the place. Even now, you'll be met with an eye-roll if you greet me with an "IT'S GAAAAAME DAAAAY!" on a Saturday morning (or any other day of your life), and I will not forgive you if you judge me because I don't like cheese curds. I still think there are no real places to go shopping in Madison, and I hate the fact that Marcus Point Cinema is so far, and Sundance doesn't have all the movies, but now I know that with all its disadvantages, and all its little quirks, there's another place apart from Mexico where I feel okay.

I love the fact that most of my classes take place under the museum. I like walking to my Arabic class, where I know and like everybody, and I look forward to all those hours in between my classes when I can sit at College Library with a hot chocolate in hand, pretending to do homework when I'm really just watching The Office and taking snaps of the lake as seen from the windows of the third floor. 

Madison is not adventurous and exciting like India. It's not a vacation, like Paris, and the food is really bad, unlike in my own country, but it's alright. It's knowing that 9 times out of 10 I will be hanging out with Sadeq, most likely talking things that are completely irrelevant but really funny (for us), it's waking up to home-made coffee, and walking to the museum on Tuesday afternoons, and editing, and the reassurance that I'm doing what I love. 

In all honesty, I've seen more cows here than I ever saw in India, but at least now I'm not living off my suitcase.

To new beginnings.

There is something endearing about new beginnings. 

The shy manner in which the sun shines when its rising. The way in which a new week feels crisp, and a new year feels like a white canvas, ready to be filled with whatever the heart desires. I know my blog has been left a white canvas for too long now. 

When I started this blog, I was a few weeks shy from turning 18. I was moving to India where I would write all about experiencing a different culture and living on top of a hill with people coming from all corners of the world. What I wanted to achieve here was a conversation between myself and the people I was leaving behind, and I think my accomplishments went above and beyond my expectations.

After a few months, I moved to Canada, and the blog shifted into an account of learning how to live on my own, as well as detailing my tourist outings and other random shenanigans. I did this because I wanted to keep that conversation going, but mostly because it is through writing that I can give my life any sort of purpose.

Two years and barely 31 blog posts later, I am 20 years old, and writing from an apartment in the U.S., where I have been living for a year. Tomorrow I'll be starting my sophomore year of college. 

How time freaking flies. 

I know I have been away from the blog for a long time, but I want to give myself the gift of starting a new conversation. Of what, I am still unsure. I will try to be around here as often as I possibly can, but I must warn you, my life right now has the chaos of a Boccioni, the nonconformity of all the Dada, and the vividness of the most colorful Matisse. That's the endearing part of new beginnings, right? You rarely, if ever, know where they are going to lead. 

Until then, and always, thanks for reading. 

Sights of the Old Port (In & Out of water).

Every decent city has it's own beach. Or so Montrealers (?) say.

Now, you might remember the Clock Tower from my past post on Old Montreal. If you don't, then let me give you the inside scoop.

The Clock Tower, which is also the Lighthouse for the Old Port of Montreal, was built in commemoration for the sailors who died during World War I. The mechanism for the clock is similar to that of the Big Ben, but curiously, it never actually chimes.

It is possible to climb the Tower from the inside (for free!), and it is actually only 192 steps high. The stairs are incredibly narrow (one person at a time, only!) but the view from the top is pretty f*cking cool (even though the wind is pretty much blowing you out the sides). This is the view of the clock from the inside:

And for yet the most impressive of all the up-from-the-top views that I've shown around here lately:

From the very top, it is possible to catch a tiny glimpse of the Beach of the Clock, where for about two dollars, you can chill under the Canadian sun all day long. There is also really good music on a daily basis, and an open bar.

While I was there, I took advantage of my tourist status and went on a cruise (!!!). It was AH-MA-ZING. For starters, here is the view of the Tower from the water (I know I'm so annoying, but don't you love that thing so much?!):

And among other things I saw:

La Ronde: Montreal's amusement park on Île-St-Hélène. 

The industrial districts of Montreal, and the Olympic Tower on the backdrop!

The Jacques Cartier Bridge, which unites Montreal Island with the south shore of Longueuil.

The historical district of Montreal. For like .002 seconds there I felt back in Paris. (Isn't this so lovely?!)

And finally, Habitat 67, one of the most famous architectural landmarks in Canada and one that has generated some serious debate for redefining urban living. Once used as housing for low-income families, it is now a swanky and modern place to live in. 

Finally, I took a stroll down the Port, and used my last day in Montreal to soak up the sun and get an amazing tan ;)

Explain to me [again] how you don't fall in love with this?!

The Montreal tourists talk about (Old Montreal + Notre Dame).

Old Montreal. 

Literally, the most famous touristic attraction in Montreal and also the one that I tried to avoid for as long as possible. Distinguished for its cobblestone streets and decidedly european architecture, Old Montreal is possibly the most picturesque spot in the city. Only a couple of blocks away from Chinatown and overlooking the Old Port, Old Montreal is where everyone gathers for good music, and even better food. This is the Montreal tourists talk about.

As I made my way to the Historic City Centre, I couldn't help but feeling a bit of nostalgia. This was like stepping back into a hippie version of Montmartre, with all the artists standing around selling portraits, and the people drinking coffee out in the terraces. 

My first stop (after breakfast, bien sûr!), was the Bonsecours Market. Located in a building that dates back to 1844, it has to be one of the loveliest markets I visited in Canada. It's clean, organized and focused on souvenir-seeking, hungry tourists rather than locals. It is great for buying maple-everything ;)!

The Market is conveniently located right next to the Old Port, which was the second place I visited that morning. I will be talking about it in a different post, but for now, I will leave you with a photo of the Clock Tower (which also acts as Lighthouse) and a tiny peek of Clock Tower Beach (can you spot it?). 

That day, I also visited what became one of my favorite places in Montreal: Notre Dame. 

For someone who claims to be as non-religious as I do, I sure do visit a whole lot of temples. In the city where I'm from, it is said that we have a church in every corner and I soon found out that applied to Quebec too. There are churches everywhere. 

While I was in Montreal I visited Queen Mary Cathedral expecting to find some sort of astounding resemblance to St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican. Thaaaat...kind of went badly. However, I still went to Notre Dame's Basilica trying to find some common ground with Notre Dame de Paris and this time around, I did not leave disappointed. In fact, it was exactly the other way around. 

Upon entering Notre Dame, my jaw dropped to the floor. 

I love the complexity of Neo-gothic architecture and I adore the absolute perfection (exactitude?) it conveys. 

Long story short, my inner Art Historian had just found its happy place. 

After sitting there for what must have been hours and posting a few Snaps (you can find me as ferookie , in case you want in on the fun), it was time to move on.

(Sadly & hesitatingly, because I loved this place).

From then on, my afternoon went slowly by as I bought souvenirs, ate ice-cream, and walked around dodging other tourists. There are so many of us out there, you guys. 

I honestly don't know why I avoided Old Montreal so much at first. It is a truly relaxed part of town, while also lively and fun. I guess I don't like feeling like "one of the bunch" among the hoards of tourists and fellow foreigners (and there are always outsiders in this place), but let's just say that if I had the chance, I would take an afternoon stroll around here any day. 

Except maybe during winter.

The happy places of Montreal (Mount Royal + The Gay Village)

The last days I spend in a place are usually bittersweet.

I'm the kind of person who leaves a travel destination swearing that I will go back soon while ridiculously trying to remember every little detail about the place. This time around though, my last days in Montreal where actually pretty sweet. 

After my classes ended, I had about a week to just roam around all day. No itineraries, no schedules, no maps...just anywhere I felt like going. Most of that time was spent going back and forth between Chinatown and the rest of the city because let's face it: the food in that place is amazing. However, in celebration of Mexico's legalization of same-sex marriage, I found myself in the middle of Montreal's happiest place: The Gay Village.

If you follow me on Instagram (or if we're friends on Facebook) then you have probably already seen this picture doing the rounds. So let me explain to you: The Gay Village in Montreal runs for about two kilometers and is entirely covered in those little pink balls you can see in the picture. The Beaudry Metro Station, which is closest to the neighborhood, has rainbow-colored pillars and both the streets and the station which make up Le Village have become a celebrated tourist attraction. 

The area was  a working-class neighborhood until the late 1980's, when it became a gathering point for the LGBTQ community after their businesses on the St. Laurent Boulevard area where closed. The Village is now a beautiful place full of businesses, cafés and terraces, popular among tourists & locals alike, and host of some major events like the Fierté Montréal Pride, among others. In my opinion, it is totally hip & a great place for a stroll. 

Apart from visiting the Village, that day I climbed up the famous Mount Royal. 

I had been there a few times before, mainly to witness the Tam-Tams on Sunday afternoons, but this was my first time hiking up to the Belvedere and it was freaking hard. I didn't make it to the very top (in my defense, I had a lot of packing to do that afternoon and I was already late) but the view was nevertheless remarkable. 

Off in the distance: The Olympic Tower, where I was standing just a few days before I visited Mont Royal and of which I talked about here. 

During summer, Mount Royal hosts the Tam-Tams, where literally everyone hangs around the mountain to play hand drums, eat lunch, smoke weed, dance and play. During winter, it hosts snowshoeing and cross-country skiing trails as well as a tobogganing run, which I can't wait to try when I go back real soon. Right?

From the Tower to the Velodrome, a tour of the Olympic Stadium.

Next to the Olympic Stadium and right in front of the Botanical Gardens lies one of Montreal's hidden gems & an underrated tourist attraction: The Olympic Tower.

Standing at 165 meters tall and with views spanning over 80 km of the St. Lawrence River and nearby zones, the Olympic Tower of Montreal is the world's highest inclined tower, with an angle of 45º (the Tower of Pisa stands at an angle of 5º) as well as the only one to have a funicular that works on a curved structure.

The best part? It offers the very best views of the city.

From the east side, it is possible to see the St. Lawrence River & Île-Ste. Hélène, which holds Montreal's most popular theme park: La Ronde. On the opposite side of the bridge is the town of Longueuil.

From here it is also possible to see the Olympic Stadium, where the Mexican team América defeated Montreal back when I was new to Canada!

The view on the opposite window is of the industrial district, and the weird structure seen on the left bottom side of the picture is Montreal's Biodôme, my next stop.

The Biodôme has a small zoo and a tiny aquarium which are home to wildlife of over four different ecosystems. The structure was originally a Velodrome built for the Olympic Games of 1976, and has since been repurposed. Among the things I saw inside:

And finally, as I was trying to get pictures of fish in the aquarium, I was photobombed by a stingray!

Even though I had a good time overall, I expected the Biodôme to have a bigger variety of animals and was really disappointed on how small it actually is. I don't think I would go back given the chance, but as a first time visitor it was definitely cool. Especially the warnings on ibis poo. Those were my absolute fave.

Thanks for reading!