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So, what exactly is a Junk Gypsy?

I feel like I need to preface this post with a disclaimer telling you that I was young once.  Yep.  I was.  In fact, once I was 22.  And I lived in in Tucson.  I took long Road Trips.  I drove a Bronco II and kept Campbell's Soup and toilet paper in the compartments in the back out of necessity because those were the days I was a real Rebel Road Sister.  I drove an SUV and did real off road and camped and had real adventures.  None of this snot-nosed, playdate, got to get home and feed the family bullshit. (**Disclaimer**I have no doubt, given the chance to face the open road, I would undoubtedly run home crying by 8 PM --the next night--missing small daily stuff of family life the most. Even cooking for those rugrats three times a day plus snacks).

 
 

Why, once I was on the road trip in the middle of the night all by myself on the way to Santa Fe, New Mexico (I saw Willie Nelson on that trip in a cool little open air theater) and there was NO light from the moon and NO light from the highway and the rain was pouring down sideways and I thought for sure I would DIE before I'd make it--but me and Hank William Jr. on the cassette pulled through.

And then there is my best friend Korie.  We were sorority sisters at the University of Arizona.  We talked watched the movie 1969 and somehow got the idea of getting leaf tattoos and work Visas to go be sheep herders in New Zealand.  She bailed on me and ended up going to law school.  I fulfilled our vision (minus the leaf tattoo) and joined the Peace Corps.  If you have managed to stay with me.  This brings me to my post topic.  In the land of Kohls women's department, Land's End, and Macy's shopping, society is conspiring to force me into conservative colors, sensible necklines, and boring style.  I just can't take it.  I stumbled upon the Junk Gypsy site and was inspired and connected to days gone by.  Or have they?

So, exactly what is a Junk Gypsy?  From the gals at Gypsyville:

"A junk gypsy is a feeling of wanderlust deep down in your soul…it is believing in the JOURNEY…and delighting in every character, creature, and experience that paves the way.

A junk gypsy takes a roadtrop just to let her hair blow in the wind…and sees more than the road ahead, she sees the world at her fingertips. A junk gypsy lives for the Wild Blue Yonder and all the wonders it holds in store. And believes that the road goes on forever and the party never ends…"

 

So...if I reject the Kohl's khaki pleated front pant and muted color twin set combos and strut through WalMart in these bitchen tights will I be taken seriously as a Gypsy Soul?

July 8, 1994

June 15, 1994

April 27, 1994

February 1, 1994

November 20,1993

Sometime during my senior year in college, I was walking through the Student Union and saw a display for the Peace Corps .  I grabbed a brochure.  I didn't really understand what the mission of the Peace Corps was all about.  Not sure I really cared.  After all, Korie and I had long decided that we would like to move to New Zealand and herd sheep and sell scarves on the beaches.  Really!  There was a work visa program offered in NZ for that very thing!

It was 1991 and a recession was looming, the job market was drying and graduation was coming.  Joining the Peace Corps and living internationally would allow me to gain some valuable skills and say I had a real plan after college. 

I applied in the spring of 1992.  I was quickly asked to come to Ecuador in February of 1993.  I finished college, graduated in December '92, and departed for my two year adventure February 3, 1993.
I attended a three-day pre-departure staging event in Miami, Florida.  During one of the 'group-dynamic-type' sessions, we were asked to look around the room.  We were then told it was very likely we would meet our future spouse during the next two years.  I remember thinking "Yeah right, I am not here to date".  Lo and behold, my future husband was sitting right behind me.

My dear friend Tia saved my letters from my two years in Ecuador.  Most entertaining to me is how you can see my progress from a wide-eyed young idealist, to a jaded, tired, pragmatist.  Read on for a chronological glimpse at my time in Ecuador.  I'll post a new (old) letter every few days.