Technologıcal Meltdown
>> May 30, 2010
Hello dear readers! I write this posting vıa emaıl from an ınternet
cafe ın Turkey. Our computer has had the second complete meltdown of
the trıp...just as we arrıved ın a sweet hotel room wıth wıfı! I am
currently sıttıng here wıth a tech expert (tıme wıll tell as to the
depth of expertıse) who tryıng to reformat our lıttle netbook.
keep your fıngers crossed that we wıll be back ın the bloggıng world soon!
xoxoxo
update: May 31
Hooray! We are back! Oh, and the level of "expertise" of the before mentioned techie was less than a rock might have. N returned to pick up the computer and found the "expert" pounding the keys like an ape, asking that we provide him a copy of Windows XP so that he could install it. ARG..that's why we came to YOU! But today we found a REAL expert who sorted us all out. Thanks!!!
A few issues with the keyboard that need to be resolved, but back to typing with a dotted "i."
Bold Intentions and Good Eats
>> May 27, 2010
As backpackers, carrying everything on our backs, we aren’t big shoppers. We don’t find ourselves accumulating great stores of new things from new countries, and the things that we do collect are usually intended as gifts to bring to the new destination. Sometimes I indulge in some window shopping, but what is the fun of trying on strappy wedge sandals that you cannot justify purchasing? The Kashmir rugs, the kimonos, the paintings, the silk sarees, the hanging glass lanterns, and the baby burro remained far from the grasp of my eager hands.
However, one thing that we can shop for and purchase, is food!
At the beginning of this journey, while reveling in the successes of toasting Panini Sandwiches with an iron at our hotel in Washington, D.C., we made a bold declaration: during the course of our nine month trip, we would cook home-made food no less than three times each week.
Our intentions quickly fell by the wayside, for many different reasons.
Firstly, we had grown accustomed to the availability of guest kitchens and cooking facilities during our time in South America; this is not the case worldwide. We have cooked a total of about ten meals in our five months of traveling, excluding our newfound joy in preparing Indian-style Chai for guests and hosts. In addition to a deficit of kitchens, a lack of refrigeration options means that our cooking repertoire is limited to foods that we will prepare right away, and ingredients that will not spoil within our cooking time-frame, be it four hours or three days.
On our last day in Mumbai, Nathan purchased one of those coil-heaters to accompany the two kilograms of Chai tea that we managed to squeeze into my backpack. How lovely it would be to pop that little unit into the Nalgene bottle and make ourselves delicious tea! How exceptional to reduce our plastic consumption with the ability to boil our own water! Upon our arrival in Addis the next day, the heater exploded in my hands on the first attempted use. Nuts.
In many of the countries through which we have traveled, prepared food is much cheaper than un-prepared. It is cheaper to order chana masala and chapati, or a noodle bowl, or injera from the street or in a small restaurant than it ever would be to cook the same item ourselves, even if we did have a kitchen at our disposal.
Although our intentions of home-cooking sounded very relevant from the location of the Gaylord Hotel, I feel that we would miss so much had we stuck to this plan. If we were cooking for ourselves, we would be preparing foods that we know to enjoy, that we are familiar with, that we understand how to cook. If we had been cooking at home, we would be restricting ourselves from enjoying some rich and new culinary delights. I may not have ever realized that I like mushrooms! We would not know the wonders of ground-nut stew. And that creamy goodness of shiro. Sweet pasta with ice and coconut milk? How much we would have missed.
But the truth is, although we are far from our original and uneducated goal of home-cooking, we have been good eaters. But not just in our healthy appetites or ranges in variety, but also because we choose to eat normal food. We very rarely find ourselves at a chain restaurant, and NEVER at a western-based chain restaurant (unless we need to use the bathroom). We try to stick to the culinary style of the region and try new things. We usually do not eat in fancy restaurants, but choose instead to buy our meals from a local neighborhood restaurant. We try to patronize real individuals making real food…and we take our food purchases rather seriously. As travelers on a limited spending budget, with interest in adding to the local economy and supporting small business owners, buying meals from local restaurants makes everyone feel good.
Especially me and my stomach.
Read more...
However, one thing that we can shop for and purchase, is food!
At the beginning of this journey, while reveling in the successes of toasting Panini Sandwiches with an iron at our hotel in Washington, D.C., we made a bold declaration: during the course of our nine month trip, we would cook home-made food no less than three times each week.
Our intentions quickly fell by the wayside, for many different reasons.
Firstly, we had grown accustomed to the availability of guest kitchens and cooking facilities during our time in South America; this is not the case worldwide. We have cooked a total of about ten meals in our five months of traveling, excluding our newfound joy in preparing Indian-style Chai for guests and hosts. In addition to a deficit of kitchens, a lack of refrigeration options means that our cooking repertoire is limited to foods that we will prepare right away, and ingredients that will not spoil within our cooking time-frame, be it four hours or three days.
On our last day in Mumbai, Nathan purchased one of those coil-heaters to accompany the two kilograms of Chai tea that we managed to squeeze into my backpack. How lovely it would be to pop that little unit into the Nalgene bottle and make ourselves delicious tea! How exceptional to reduce our plastic consumption with the ability to boil our own water! Upon our arrival in Addis the next day, the heater exploded in my hands on the first attempted use. Nuts.
In many of the countries through which we have traveled, prepared food is much cheaper than un-prepared. It is cheaper to order chana masala and chapati, or a noodle bowl, or injera from the street or in a small restaurant than it ever would be to cook the same item ourselves, even if we did have a kitchen at our disposal.
Although our intentions of home-cooking sounded very relevant from the location of the Gaylord Hotel, I feel that we would miss so much had we stuck to this plan. If we were cooking for ourselves, we would be preparing foods that we know to enjoy, that we are familiar with, that we understand how to cook. If we had been cooking at home, we would be restricting ourselves from enjoying some rich and new culinary delights. I may not have ever realized that I like mushrooms! We would not know the wonders of ground-nut stew. And that creamy goodness of shiro. Sweet pasta with ice and coconut milk? How much we would have missed.
But the truth is, although we are far from our original and uneducated goal of home-cooking, we have been good eaters. But not just in our healthy appetites or ranges in variety, but also because we choose to eat normal food. We very rarely find ourselves at a chain restaurant, and NEVER at a western-based chain restaurant (unless we need to use the bathroom). We try to stick to the culinary style of the region and try new things. We usually do not eat in fancy restaurants, but choose instead to buy our meals from a local neighborhood restaurant. We try to patronize real individuals making real food…and we take our food purchases rather seriously. As travelers on a limited spending budget, with interest in adding to the local economy and supporting small business owners, buying meals from local restaurants makes everyone feel good.
Especially me and my stomach.
The Souk is a Kindred Spirit
>> May 26, 2010
written by Nathan
If China is the world’s largest importer of chicken feet, then Egypt must be the largest importer of beef liver. On the street, three things are ingested daily on every corner; tea (at all hours with sheesha), fuul at lunch (the original refried beans), and evenings are for liver. Use the word ‘sandwich’ at nearly any dining establishment serving food past 5PM and likely this is what you will get.
The souks, normal community food markets, as ancient as this part of the world, sell everything in season. Alexandria, the great port of Egypt, benefits from its delta, the river, and the sea. All sorts of fish and seafood are for sale with three predominant types being traditionally popular: small clams, shrimp, and BBQ whole fish (the BBQ fish is cooked in a crust of flours and spice to a burnt black).
There are all sorts of fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs at the souks. Because ‘lower Egypt,’ has a green belt along the river that gets mild winters with freezes, all sorts of unexpected temperate fruits grow well here: apples, peaches, apricots, grapes, and other fruits are abundant.
Because of the ancient (hot) climate, as is most of the developing world, the market features products which must be consumed the same day. Pita bread, sold hot and fresh in every souk and neighborhood, has a shelf life of hours, not days. Herbs seem to wilt within minutes of being stuffed in bags. And, fruits and vegetables which are most popular will last a couple days without refrigeration.
There are also many things in the market which we don’t recognize: Very bitter brown cheeses we mistook for a sesame sauce; beautiful pans of fresh grape leaves (surrounded by herbs and other greens we never did figure out); new Mediterranean fishes, and volumes of pickled delights.
It would be hard to say what my favorite thing is about the market, strolling it, taking in the vigorous bargaining, the market alley cats, the flop of live fish. Perhaps, it is in finding that perfect ingredient: tiny okra, saffron hued golden smoked fish, ripe strawberries. I think it is the friendship, the bargain, and the universality of merchants mixing with families which draws me to markets. In Egypt, the souk is an age old kindred spirit.
Read more...
The souks, normal community food markets, as ancient as this part of the world, sell everything in season. Alexandria, the great port of Egypt, benefits from its delta, the river, and the sea. All sorts of fish and seafood are for sale with three predominant types being traditionally popular: small clams, shrimp, and BBQ whole fish (the BBQ fish is cooked in a crust of flours and spice to a burnt black).
There are all sorts of fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs at the souks. Because ‘lower Egypt,’ has a green belt along the river that gets mild winters with freezes, all sorts of unexpected temperate fruits grow well here: apples, peaches, apricots, grapes, and other fruits are abundant.
Because of the ancient (hot) climate, as is most of the developing world, the market features products which must be consumed the same day. Pita bread, sold hot and fresh in every souk and neighborhood, has a shelf life of hours, not days. Herbs seem to wilt within minutes of being stuffed in bags. And, fruits and vegetables which are most popular will last a couple days without refrigeration.
There are also many things in the market which we don’t recognize: Very bitter brown cheeses we mistook for a sesame sauce; beautiful pans of fresh grape leaves (surrounded by herbs and other greens we never did figure out); new Mediterranean fishes, and volumes of pickled delights.
It would be hard to say what my favorite thing is about the market, strolling it, taking in the vigorous bargaining, the market alley cats, the flop of live fish. Perhaps, it is in finding that perfect ingredient: tiny okra, saffron hued golden smoked fish, ripe strawberries. I think it is the friendship, the bargain, and the universality of merchants mixing with families which draws me to markets. In Egypt, the souk is an age old kindred spirit.
Blogs for Kids
>> May 25, 2010
Nathan has just finished posting some blogs especially for kids! You can find the link on the Honey Service Year homepage, or just click the image link below.
The One Pound Falafel Sandwich
El Alamein would be the perfect vacation spot for many persons seeking the sapphire clear waters of Egypt’s Mediterranean. It had been recommended to us by two different English speaking people we encountered, both of whom we had clearly articulated a desire to spend time in Egyptian communities away from the usual tourist path. We got our usual information on buses and made our way there without a hitch; (1.50 L) for two taxis to Muharambek Station and right onto the minibus to El Alamein (11 L).
The buses make record time along the flat coastal highway and an hour later the first 80 km were completed including Alexandria traffic. However, only 25 km out we began to wonder if the view of the sea was ever going to appear from behind the curtain of master planned communities, condos, and resorts lining the beaches.
Upon arrival in El Alamein our worst fears were realized. El Alamein, historic for its enormous foreign graveyards, is like an oversized truck stop on the wrong side of the highway. We were faced with a dilemma - go on with hope that the resort blockade would eventually end, or turn back and return to our lovely sea view and Hotel Normandie in Alexandria.
We didn’t want to give up too easily. So, we took a walk circling the town. It was fruitless; that is except for seeing a departure of the afternoon train which we would have run to catch for some variety if it had been a few steps closer and a little bit slower (a good thing too, as we never saw tracks again and now assume it was either direct to Cairo or to some oasis in the heart of the Sahara Desert).
When we got round to the minibus stand we immediately commandeered a front seat on the first bus heading back. Knowing the bus could fill up quickly, we went off to grab a quick lunch of falafel sandwiches and a delicious eggplant, tomato, french fry and onion sandwich. The sandwiches are always accompanied by a variety of spicy pickled vegetables which are too spicy for Brittany (carrots, pickles, hot peppers, cauliflower, etc.)
Ok, so the whole trip there and back was four hours, four bucks (US), and an interesting experience (especially for an urban planner/hotel operator totally opposed to sprawl, unsustainable development, and privatization of public spaces). We certainly would have chosen to spend our day differently had we known better.
Lonely Planet or Footprint Guidebooks would have really helped here. We had maps of the coast, information from locals, a sense that El Alamein was far enough from Alexandria; and, the place had been described as having only old foreigner graveyards of interest; but, a quick Google search (we were on the internet posting blogs this morning in preparation for getting away from civilization) would have probably given us all the information we needed not to go.
So going guidebook-less has its costs. An adventure in the sprawling overdevelopment of the Egyptian deserts spilling into the lapping crystal waters and sunshine of the Mediterranean. Now, we just have to find a local avenue (trolley anyone?), to dip our toes in those alluring silky waters here in Alexandria. There is another hidden cost also, we are trying to green our travels. We took two seats on the local minibus that would have been filled by others. So, we need to use our carbon cost calculator to figure out how many extra trees we need to plant to offset our misadventure.
Moral to the story: People will not make exceptions for their perception of what they think you like even when you explicitly think you are telling them you’re not interested in tourist things. Do your research.
Imagining Backpacking Without Plastic
>> May 24, 2010
Today I tried to imagine a backpacker without plastic…it’s hard to do! So much of our journey depends on plastic: purified water, laminated passports, debit cards, 3oz conditioner and sunscreen and insect repellant bottles. I would be nearly blind without my big plastic sunglasses in the bright Mediterranean sun. Our camera records visual memories, and our external hard drive stores writings and music and digital maps. Imagine trading in our laptop for a pencil (no rubber eraser) and un-bound paper. Imagine a sketch pad and paintbrush instead of a Sony cyber shot. Imagine toting ceramic or glass containers instead of Tupperware for leftovers and meal prep. Imagine no zippers on our backpacks or buttons on our pants. No swimsuits, no headphones, no Bandaids, no duct-tape, no sleeping bags, no playing cards, no headlamp. How drastically our trip would change if we culled everything that contained plastic.
And that extensive list simply encompasses just some of the material things that we carry with us. Our everyday travel consumes plastic at an alarming rate, even with a conscientious effort to decrease our usage. We carry extra plastic bags so as not to accumulate more, but shopkeepers all around the world like to double and triple bag things. Even if we purchase home-made, natural chips, they come in a bag, which is then placed in a bag. With a frequent language barrier, a request or charade that indicates, “please, we don’t need a bag” is lost in the gap. When we try to hand the plastic bag back, it usually is just thrown away, unused.
Although we have traveled through a few regions of the world that have placed a ban on plastic bags (Mussoorie and Jabalpur, India), and though many places choose to use alternatives (oftentimes in India we received nut mixes in handmade paper bags, served delicious beans in biodegradable bowls shaped from leaves, and handed FanMilk ice cream wrapped in sections of paper while in Ghana), efforts are not global. Sometimes it feels that the efforts of some are overshadowed by the inattention of others.
But the solution seems too simple not to be widespread….just stop using plastic bags! Place a huge tax on plastic bags, make them more expensive, charge people for them. Is it really so hard? Are we really so addicted to thin, easily-torn, completely disposable plastic bags? It seems that we are.
We are all connected, sometimes in positive ways, sometimes in negative ones. The plastic pollution of our seas and airspace impacts the entirety of our species. Last night we watched a documentary called “Addicted to Plastic.” While not the caliber of a Michael Moore or Lolis Eric Elie documentary, the movie makes you think. It makes you reflect and increase your awareness (and so associated impact) of plastic use.
It’s good to be cognizant and aware, even if you can’t completely change your behaviors. Make a list of all the plastic in your bathroom. In your kitchen. In your car. Simply think about it, for that is a step in the right evolutionary direction. And, when you are thinking green, think outside of the box. Shortly after Hurricane Katrina, when our green friends and architects were disposing of newly found wealth, many chose to trade in gas guzzling SUVs for hybrid green vehicles. While their intentions were good, the truth is that the environmental cost of manufacturing that new product is much, much higher than simply driving the ‘older model’ another few years.
Some plastic parts of our lives are nearly impossible to change: wooden cellphones, or fred-flinstone, tire-less style cars are *slightly* impractical. But other simple solutions make a collective difference. Wooden reusable chopsticks are way cooler than plastic sporks. Canvas shopping bags are much classier than plastic ones. Try eating at the restaurant instead of getting take-out. Have you ever been to a store that has bulk shampoo instead of buying a new bottle every two months (shout-out to Periwinkle Provisions in Sweet Home, Ore.)?
Please share your tips and tricks to avoiding unnecessary plastic use. The comment feature in blogger is very tricky, using the “Anonymous” option for leaving a comment seems to have the best results.
Addicted to Plastic mentions several very cool companies, more information and links can be found below (but seriously, watch the movie on your plastic DVD player if you get the chance):
TieTek, LLC in Houston Texas: when the city stopped recycling, this company came up with a solution. TieTik takes any and all waste plastic (from tires to household plastics), melts it down, and turns the product into plastic railroad ties. These ties are then sold to railroad companies all over the country. TieTek ties last longer than wood, are impervious to termites, can be melted down and used again and again, and because all railroad ties are uniform in size, only one mold is used.
Agri-Plas, Inc. in Oregon: focuses especially on the agriculture waste products like baling twine, plastic flower pots, plastic sheeting. It processes 15% of the state’s waste. Baling twine is melted down to make truck bumpers, while flower pots are turned into more flower pots.
Interface, Inc. in Georgia: Recycles any and all plastic components into new carpets, efforts are powered by methane from the local landfill. “Landfills are the oil mines of our future!” the CEO says hopefully.
UniquEco in Nairobi, Kenya: Knits plastic bags into purses for resale. Employs locals and pick up plastic bag trash. Flip flops are collected from beaches and towns and then cored out to make curtains, jewelry, and knick-knacks.
Global Mamas in Ghana: recycles plastic water bags and other disposable trash into a variety of resale items.
Read more...
And that extensive list simply encompasses just some of the material things that we carry with us. Our everyday travel consumes plastic at an alarming rate, even with a conscientious effort to decrease our usage. We carry extra plastic bags so as not to accumulate more, but shopkeepers all around the world like to double and triple bag things. Even if we purchase home-made, natural chips, they come in a bag, which is then placed in a bag. With a frequent language barrier, a request or charade that indicates, “please, we don’t need a bag” is lost in the gap. When we try to hand the plastic bag back, it usually is just thrown away, unused.
Although we have traveled through a few regions of the world that have placed a ban on plastic bags (Mussoorie and Jabalpur, India), and though many places choose to use alternatives (oftentimes in India we received nut mixes in handmade paper bags, served delicious beans in biodegradable bowls shaped from leaves, and handed FanMilk ice cream wrapped in sections of paper while in Ghana), efforts are not global. Sometimes it feels that the efforts of some are overshadowed by the inattention of others.
But the solution seems too simple not to be widespread….just stop using plastic bags! Place a huge tax on plastic bags, make them more expensive, charge people for them. Is it really so hard? Are we really so addicted to thin, easily-torn, completely disposable plastic bags? It seems that we are.
We are all connected, sometimes in positive ways, sometimes in negative ones. The plastic pollution of our seas and airspace impacts the entirety of our species. Last night we watched a documentary called “Addicted to Plastic.” While not the caliber of a Michael Moore or Lolis Eric Elie documentary, the movie makes you think. It makes you reflect and increase your awareness (and so associated impact) of plastic use.
It’s good to be cognizant and aware, even if you can’t completely change your behaviors. Make a list of all the plastic in your bathroom. In your kitchen. In your car. Simply think about it, for that is a step in the right evolutionary direction. And, when you are thinking green, think outside of the box. Shortly after Hurricane Katrina, when our green friends and architects were disposing of newly found wealth, many chose to trade in gas guzzling SUVs for hybrid green vehicles. While their intentions were good, the truth is that the environmental cost of manufacturing that new product is much, much higher than simply driving the ‘older model’ another few years.
Some plastic parts of our lives are nearly impossible to change: wooden cellphones, or fred-flinstone, tire-less style cars are *slightly* impractical. But other simple solutions make a collective difference. Wooden reusable chopsticks are way cooler than plastic sporks. Canvas shopping bags are much classier than plastic ones. Try eating at the restaurant instead of getting take-out. Have you ever been to a store that has bulk shampoo instead of buying a new bottle every two months (shout-out to Periwinkle Provisions in Sweet Home, Ore.)?
Please share your tips and tricks to avoiding unnecessary plastic use. The comment feature in blogger is very tricky, using the “Anonymous” option for leaving a comment seems to have the best results.
Addicted to Plastic mentions several very cool companies, more information and links can be found below (but seriously, watch the movie on your plastic DVD player if you get the chance):
TieTek, LLC in Houston Texas: when the city stopped recycling, this company came up with a solution. TieTik takes any and all waste plastic (from tires to household plastics), melts it down, and turns the product into plastic railroad ties. These ties are then sold to railroad companies all over the country. TieTek ties last longer than wood, are impervious to termites, can be melted down and used again and again, and because all railroad ties are uniform in size, only one mold is used.
Agri-Plas, Inc. in Oregon: focuses especially on the agriculture waste products like baling twine, plastic flower pots, plastic sheeting. It processes 15% of the state’s waste. Baling twine is melted down to make truck bumpers, while flower pots are turned into more flower pots.
Interface, Inc. in Georgia: Recycles any and all plastic components into new carpets, efforts are powered by methane from the local landfill. “Landfills are the oil mines of our future!” the CEO says hopefully.
UniquEco in Nairobi, Kenya: Knits plastic bags into purses for resale. Employs locals and pick up plastic bag trash. Flip flops are collected from beaches and towns and then cored out to make curtains, jewelry, and knick-knacks.
Global Mamas in Ghana: recycles plastic water bags and other disposable trash into a variety of resale items.
Islam and Equality
>> May 23, 2010
written by Nathan
Visiting Egypt has been a lesson in ethnic diversity and cooperation. It is a place that has worked for more than fifteen centuries on nondiscrimination based on gender, race, or ethnicity. While it would be overly simplistic to say that this has always been successful or that no prejudices or sexism exist here today, it is a concept which comes directly from the most ancient teachings of Islam. [Islam makes it very clearly a sin to prejudice. Mohammad, in his last sermon says, “You are all equal. Nobody has superiority over others except through piety and good action.”]
As the teaching on righteous love of all humanity has been passed through to the modern age, Egypt has developed without the visible and suppressive context of racism. There are likely many forms of discriminations which are not obvious, many lower classes of people have not received the same levels of education and opportunity as some in the upper classes. But the genuine politeness, civility, respect, and equality in the interactions we see on the street here are a very important lesson for those of us who have come from places with more discriminating and prejudicial cultures or political classes. In Islam, the prophet Mohammad is very explicit, “An Arab is not superior to a non-Arab, and a non-Arab is not superior to an Arab. A white has no superiority over a back, nor does a black have superiority over a white. You are equal.”
Before ever arriving, I was expecting friendliness in the Arab world. Both my parents and grandparents had spent considerable time here before I was born and spoke very highly of the virtues of hospitality, generosity, and piety here.
With my grandfather, I had seen a ‘conflict of the Middle East’ from a USA perspective occurring in miniature, right before my eyes. After my grandmother had passed, my grandfather had mover in with one of his younger sisters, so that they could look after each other. But brother and sister had very different political views: my Aunt Inez was the spokesperson and matriarch for the most firebrand republicanism; my grandfather a ‘dyed in the wool’ progressive democrat. The two of them played out conflicts America was having in their living room; as the build up to the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq swirled around us all.
Most of their conflict occurred in front of the TV. Like many Americans, they were divided along media lines. When my Great-Aunt had on FOX news, my grandfather would berate the television as slanderous. When he would have his NPR tuned to the kitchen radio, Aunt Inez would ask him to please, ‘turn off that liberal mouthpiece.’ So, it went on.
But, my grandfather had lived with people of the Middle East. He knew them intimately. His coworkers had depended on him; and, they had saved his life on several occasions. This is why my grandfather was so distraught during his last years, over the conflicts erupting in the Middle East. He had lived all over the world and spent most of this time living in many different countries of the Middle East. He would tell me often (and FOX news during the staged conflicts performed by actor/news people), “Those Arabs are the kindest, most generous people in the world. This war is about lies!” I know better now how right he was…
Conflicts in the world, whether in the Middle East or elsewhere have not gone away entirely, despite the advocation of peace by Mohammad, Jesus, Buddha, Ghandi or the like. However, harmony between peoples occurs everywhere. The way we see this generalized non-prejudice manifested in Egypt is in the interactions which we see between people. There are couples of differing complexions. There are people of dark color in positions of power. More important, there is a general harmony. Missing in Egypt is the class and racial prejudice which is so internalized and oppressive in our western make up.
Now, it is easier to understand how truly devout Muslims, from parts of the world with great religious conflict, benefit from their Islamic pilgrimages. They can see with their own eyes and understand non-prejudice and cooperation and be hopeful. As Malcolm X said when he went to Mecca to perform Hajj: “My pilgrimage broadened my scope. It blessed me with new insight….I saw what I never had seen in thirty-nine years in America. I saw all races, all colors - blue eyed blonds to black skinned Africans - in true brotherhood! In Unity! Living as one! Worshipping as one!”
Travel is something which widens our perspective. Sometimes it gives us insight into harmony and togetherness where we did not know opportunities would exist. So, it is valuable for Muslim and non-Muslim alike to visit Egypt; to understand the value of sixteen centuries of intentional non-prejudice.
Eqyptian Charms
>> May 22, 2010
written by Nathan
Cairo, Egypt land of ancient civilizations. We are feeling quite at home here. It is not just the cosmopolitan character of Cairo, the port city air of Alexandria, but the feeling of an Arabic Melting pot which has been so welcome to us. It is a megalopolis stretching from Cairo to the sea - diverse and developed, proud and confident.
Life is a tangle of friendliness. The charms of the streets are found in the morning and evening. In the neighborhoods at various hours of prayer, competing mosque sirens wail from every corner.
As usual, children and old folks are very interested and engaging. People can be approached easily (and will try to help- but outside the tourist center English is not prevalent)
Egypt, (Cairo and Alexandria) are places we immediately fell for. The combination of mixes of mostly early 20th century architecture - wide boulevards with tiny ancient streets branching off; easy transportation systems; and varied delicious Arabic cuisines - make the cities totally approachable.
Contrary to our normal approach to travel. Egypt is just too rich with history to miss some of the biggest tourist sites. We have visited both the pyramids and the Egyptian Museum and been delighted by both in spite of tours buses and tour massive groups. In both places, we used our knowledge of tour group behaviors to steer around the crowds. We were at the Pyramids at opening (8:30) and rushed past the Great Pyramid to get away from the onrush. Once away from the crowds it is easy to find places where the tour groups are not. The Pyramid ’campus’ is an enormous space and totally open for exploration. We particularly enjoyed being ‘explorers’ getting into the recently uncovered and under reconstruction support tombs of engineers, architects, captains of the army, and those whose small tombs are littered like a tomb city surrounding the pyramids.
**** While it is always advisable to learn some of any language before visiting a new country, Arabic is very inviting to us. For one thing, there are so many words that were incorporated into Spanish that we know our knowledge of Spanish will help. More importantly, Arabic is such a large language. I have now added it to the ‘world’s important languages’ list which I espouse too often to those interested in learning languages or how we travel without them. My previous list, to which Arabic is now added, was Spanish, Mandarin, and French [English, of course, is native to me, but would be top on the list for people from non-English speaking countries].
A Glimpse of Alex
Here in Alexandria, the tangy Mediterranean air brings to life the smells of the city, and the salty air seems to amplify smells as does salt to food. The fragrance of dripping bunches of parsley and cilantro and dill and the creamy fluff of fresh feta cheese winds amidst the smoky tendrils of sheesha coming from the men seated at outdoor cafés.
Narrow streets carry the scents of buttery croissants being pulled from vast ovens and the brilliant gasps of succulent flowers in the form of essential oils. Mountains of cookies and pastries oozing with gritty fig paste haunt the early mornings. And the soft smells of pillowed pita bread heaped upon wheeled carts and the dusky smell of carriage horses line the waterfront promenade.
On the other side of the lagoon, close to the water, shrimp are artfully arranged into piles according to price. The elaborate designs remind me of bento boxes of the East: patterns and shapes and curves formed by crustacean bodies. Smoked fish of burnished gold are placed, four to a group, in hand-woven wicker baskets.
Cats stalk the restaurants, hopping atop the tables to steal scraps before waiters come to clear the dishes, clawing the upholstered chairs to shreds when no one is watching. They sprawl over entire park benches, curl up on car hoods in the warm morning sun, and self-righteously take their places along market stalls and beneath shwarma ovens, awaiting a savory mishap in their favor.
Dark eyes hover beneath bruised lumps on the foreheads of Muslim men; badges of devout daily prayer are visible testaments to strong faith. The melodic low tones of evening prayer sweep hauntingly below the shrill honking of taxis and the rumbling of city buses.
A port of call that feels like home, one to which we will soon return.
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Narrow streets carry the scents of buttery croissants being pulled from vast ovens and the brilliant gasps of succulent flowers in the form of essential oils. Mountains of cookies and pastries oozing with gritty fig paste haunt the early mornings. And the soft smells of pillowed pita bread heaped upon wheeled carts and the dusky smell of carriage horses line the waterfront promenade.
On the other side of the lagoon, close to the water, shrimp are artfully arranged into piles according to price. The elaborate designs remind me of bento boxes of the East: patterns and shapes and curves formed by crustacean bodies. Smoked fish of burnished gold are placed, four to a group, in hand-woven wicker baskets.
Cats stalk the restaurants, hopping atop the tables to steal scraps before waiters come to clear the dishes, clawing the upholstered chairs to shreds when no one is watching. They sprawl over entire park benches, curl up on car hoods in the warm morning sun, and self-righteously take their places along market stalls and beneath shwarma ovens, awaiting a savory mishap in their favor.
Dark eyes hover beneath bruised lumps on the foreheads of Muslim men; badges of devout daily prayer are visible testaments to strong faith. The melodic low tones of evening prayer sweep hauntingly below the shrill honking of taxis and the rumbling of city buses.
A port of call that feels like home, one to which we will soon return.
You look Egyptian
>> May 21, 2010
We could not have known, before coming here, that there are so many different looks of people in Egypt. Suddenly, we see the faces of so many people we have known. Blue, brown, and green eyes, blonds and brunettes, very pale and jet black complexions, broad, flat, and hooked noses. This is not how media or education portrays middle easterners.
Differences of appearance are not only visible in skin, eye, or hair colors but also in how people choose to express themselves. For women, by example, style can be totally western - make-up and a perm with jeans and high heels, or, more commonly, western clothing with a head scarf. Also common here are full body covering robes with gloves and socks. Older women are generally covered, (as they are married); importantly, though, all these women are interacting with each other without any overt disagreement or dislike.
While we realized quite early that greetings of, ‘You look Egyptian,’ on the streets was just a common catch phrase to get your attention to buy tours, miniature plastic pyramids, or papyrus paintings; with a decent repertoire of Arabic and proper head covering, anyone could ‘go Egyptian.’ In addition to ‘European’ looking passerbys we see plenty of Asians from Muslim countries walking the streets here. Our country, the USA, and Europe, like to hold themselves up as melting pots; but the Mediterranean still fosters the exchange of cultures, looks, and camaraderie for which it was know millennia earlier.
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Who Wants to Be Rich?
>> May 20, 2010
written by Nathan
All across the world we try and catch a little TV. Television (the tube) offers a glimpse into the culture we are visiting, and locally produced TV often showcases differences in taste - dramatic, comedic, newsworthy.
I first started noticing this, when I began to split my life between the USA and Latin America. In Colombia, there is no featured or localized weather (it is close enough to the equator that seasons are relative) - but all of news is national, with a focus on local stories and issues from across the country. Violence is more honest - dead bodies shown are occasionally on the midday news. In Latin America, the favorite show is the ‘telenovella’ our version of a soap opera. A must see to understand ins and outs of dramatic tension.
But, since we have begun this long journey round the planet, I have come more to understand a value of TV for the traveler. In public, or in hotel lobbies, it is a great way to begin conversations with your hosts about what common interests you share. In this case, football (soccer) or the Olympics were universally appreciated, no verbal language needed beyond exclamations. As we travel, natural disasters around the globe and the upcoming World Cup have captured the attention of many.
From China to India, From Ghana to Egypt, we have been amused, entertained, and educated with a worldwide phenomenon of TV success.
I first started noticing this, when I began to split my life between the USA and Latin America. In Colombia, there is no featured or localized weather (it is close enough to the equator that seasons are relative) - but all of news is national, with a focus on local stories and issues from across the country. Violence is more honest - dead bodies shown are occasionally on the midday news. In Latin America, the favorite show is the ‘telenovella’ our version of a soap opera. A must see to understand ins and outs of dramatic tension.
But, since we have begun this long journey round the planet, I have come more to understand a value of TV for the traveler. In public, or in hotel lobbies, it is a great way to begin conversations with your hosts about what common interests you share. In this case, football (soccer) or the Olympics were universally appreciated, no verbal language needed beyond exclamations. As we travel, natural disasters around the globe and the upcoming World Cup have captured the attention of many.
From China to India, From Ghana to Egypt, we have been amused, entertained, and educated with a worldwide phenomenon of TV success.
You probably already know the show, either from friends, from watercooler conversations, or, perhaps you are a fan yourself: “Who wants to be a Millionaire?” It's a game show of odd trivia, hard facts, science etc growing ever more popular across our planet. The game show has spawned an Oscar winning dramatic movie, “Slumdog Millionaire,” and is syndicated across the world on Fox and other networks. It also has many immitators… soe closer than others to the real thing.
In Ghana, Brittany became slightly addicted to the telanovela “Second Chance,” dubbed in English. It was fun to attempt lip reading in Spanish, while following the gripping drama. How are Salvador and Isabel coping with the ongoing saga of their twisted lives? Only a return to Ghana will answer these questions.
While in China, we adored a hilarious show that involved people matched against tricky shapes cut out of a quickly moving wall...called "Brain wall?"
Another television highlight that we encountered was the live taping of a show that involved an obstacle course of pygmy goats, geese, pigs dressed in biker outfits, humans dressed as giant pandas, and a wheelbarrow filled with bowling balls. After running around the obstacle course and catching one of each animal, contestants had to shoot a Big Bad Wolf with an airgun and then milk three balls from the udders of a giant plastic cow. Very few people managed to complete the course, needless to say. I don't know that it ever aired, but I had to physically old Brittany back from entering herself as a contestant.
“Who wants to be Rich?” is the Ghanian version of ’Millionaire’. It has a slightly different set up, most do, but has the same smart-aleck host who seems to play for and against the contestants. Instead of two levels of break points for gathering certain winnings it has three.
Here was our favorite question from “Who Wants to Be Rich:”
“Which of these is a type of fruit?”
A) Hanana
B) Manana
C) Ghanana
D) Banana
We were all duly impressed when the contestant correctly chose D) Banana.
Seriously, the questions were embarrassingly simple at first. But they certainly elevated in difficulty as the show progressed. We were quickly lost as trivia pointed to Ghanian history and truly stumped with a question about the correct periodic table number for the element of Chlorine.
Who’s laughing now?
Reparations and Repatriations
>> May 18, 2010
written by Nathan
What are reparations and what are repatriations?
Yesterday, we went to Cape Coast Castle It is one of nearly sixty remaining colonial forts along the coast of the great ancient kingdom of Mauritania, the ‘Gold Coast of Africa’. It struck me there that we have not taken seriously enough repatriation and reparation opportunities in today’s day and age. The world has become concerned about remedying itself; but, we do not seek out yet a root cause. While there, I took a photo of a sacred text. It had been brought to the castle and placed in a foul corner of the women’s cell. It was addressed to President Obama. It read, “Now that you are President Mr. Obama, What is your opinion on reparations?”
‘How can we ask the world’s most powerful leaders to take seriously the cause of reparations when we are not aware of it ourselves?’, I thought.
After the Civil War, President Lincoln promised reparations to freed slaves in the form of 40 acres and a mule, if this amount were given at fair historical interest, even not individually, but as a fund for reparations to today’s African-American diasporic community, it would be sufficient for a historically marginalized and politically and physically oppressed peoples to gain a more equitable division of power, voice, and sustainable economic wealth to make up for some of the evils of the past slavery. But, what of the other groups that deserve reparations? What would be justice with one oppressed peoples’ served and not the others. So, justice can be served by programs of comprehensive reparation and repatriation. Again, no political will in the world today could leverage such a powerful movement. Who could do this? Could people do this?
For 200 years, this fort sent 1000 men and 300 women every three months into slavery. It was but one of many such points of embarkation - a ‘door of no return.‘ At this fort, the last door slaves used before exiting onto the slave ships three hundred meters off to sea. The door to the ships which cruelly handled their ‘slave cargo’ across ferocious straights between West Africa and the Americas was called the Door of No Return because once slaves left they would either perish at sea or in a new land.
But, there was no UN at this time, there were no conventions which bind us now. So how would we begin this desired world outcome of economic and social justice.
Well, of course, the world has become more aware of how justice is created. It has actually come through the ages to us, through Buddha, Jesus, Mohammed, Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr. All have spoken of the same framework. Political thinkers too, have wrestled with philosophies of guidance and behaviorisms for society.
But, there has been no binding movement, and causes and injustices have built up more rapidly in the past 200 years, though with equal amounts of Law and Human Rights Progress to balance against the severity and ruthlessness of previous millennia of cruelties.
If sufficient resources, education and understanding were given to a true repatriation movement for pan-africanist blacks from the Americas to afford a serious and healthful repatriation to countries where their families were enslaved in Africa it would benefit both sides of the Atlantic. This could bridge histories of suffering between descendants and inflictors of slavery. This is one of the starting places. Local communities and peoples are encouraged and working in small pockets for self-reliance and self-sufficiency programs to begin sustainable and locally beneficial processes.
Many of these, led by Universities, NGOs and Churches, are outside led, but have traditions of gradual acceptance of community participation, engagement, and control.
Affirmative action was conceived as a type of reparation. So was a truth and reconciliation commission set up in South Africa after apartheid. Experiments towards justice and equity have been used after conflicts and changes of oppressive rule now in much of the world. In a sense, it has created more faith that systems of justice can be conducted on the basis that all human beings caan be found equal under the law. This is a very large ideal. It is one I, personally, hold dear.
What are reparations and what are repatriations? In their fullest sense they are ethnic harmony, equity and health in stewardship of environments, cultures, and economies.
What would it mean to initiate global reparations for historically marginalized peoples’?
How could such peoples benefit from self-guidance and self- sufficiency? How could such an economy be scaled to create oppression mitigation?
It would take a majority of the planet, making community-based decisions to work together and benefit collectively from universal self-interest, to begin to pay down the inequity of only the last two centuries. But, if we do this, if we make two centuries of reparations, we can both make restitution in the form of more pluralized democracy while simultaneously conceiving of a sustainable high-functioning, egalitarian world social enterprise.
Are there other paths to this new, more equitable, society? There are likely many varied forms to begin to get there. These will only blend, however, so long as they are still exercised from principles of self-sufficiency, stewardship of economics and aesthetics, and sustainability. But, in its most simple socio-economic principle reparations built on new principles of ZERI businesses and non-profit societies, along with repatraiation and open borders, will get us peaceful harmony between nations and persons in the quickest best order. If not repatriations, then what? What can we do to build new and respectful forms of justice and equality stemming from so many centuries of its misappropriation by others?
In the women’s cell, placed next to the wreath left by the Obamas, is a wreath newly left by the Reggae artist Sizzla. It reads, “To all the deceased ancestors.” Ancestral, Cultural, and Aesthetic abundance together with education, economic and social productivity means repatriation and reparation in forms of coming to terms of justice through equity, inclusivity, collaborative control.
If you are of African descent living abroad, you are welcomed by the Ghanaian government to place your wreath at on of its infamous slave castles (usually wreathes are left in their plastic wrapping but may be unwrapped as the Obamas).
Our trip to West Africa confirms my long held belief that for many African-Americans, repatriation to Africa is a good option in some form (physically, spiritually, emotionally, economically etc). Not only is Africa the fountainhead for lost history and culture; but, it is a healing land of important ancestry. Aligning ourselves with positive human and political movements; with economic, humanitarian, and educational progress here; can serve as an act or personal and social liberation and a source of power.
What are reparations and what are repatriations? Aids to benefit a world of economic justice.
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Seat of Asafos
>> May 16, 2010
We spent several days in Winneba, seat of Asafos, just an hour west of Accra. Asafos are Social Clubs derived from ancient kingdoms whose calendars of important dates and events have ruled the town for generations. We arrived Saturday morning on the second and very important day of their largest annual festival. It was hot. The streets were filled with crowds from all over Ghana. Sound systems beat a bass of parades and competition.
We were late, so we assumed that much of the ceremony was over. Quite to the contrary, ceremonies, blessings, events, and even the coronation of the next ruling family had all been put off. How could this happen? Our western minds thought: you have an event scheduled, what could stop you from proceeding? The deer had been caught. A king had stomped three times to kill it. Even here there was discrepancy.
A guard from Sir Charles Beach who walked with us to town our first day gave us his opinion on the controversy, “There can only be one king,” he said, “The people who put forward a second king they are not from here.”
He went on, “We are the overwhelming majority. How can there be two kings? There can’t be.”
In Winneba, Ghana, on the great African Atlantic Coast, this year we learned two kings had been put forward. Only one king will rule. Groups took sides. No one stepped down and calm had broken.
Police had used tear gas, the very morning of our arrival, to disrupt fighting. Who knew? We did not. We could not tell where the lines were split. There were no visible differences. And while discussion of the controversy was animate and testy, the generally civility and functioning of society appeared uninterrupted.
Many different groups of ‘Asafo’ social clubs passed and paraded, running and dancing past us, with flags, matching t-shirts, clothes, robes, and the like. We saw no violence, not even argument. But, we were told the dispute was still unsettled.
Who were the minority? The majority? This is part of the adventure of travel: Not knowing or getting the whole story, having part of your trip ‘lost in the translation.’
We wish the people of Winebba peace and resolution in finding their new king.
So, after three days, we left, wondering what the Asafos do during other times of the year. We wonder about this ancient relation between peoples’ and nature, we wonder how much this similar separation between peoples, the disputes over power, the ancient ritual and its interplay with modernity…we wonder how much we see of this in our own home and every place we visit?
Be Just Football Club
Service has many names, many faces, many impacts, and many methods of success. My service project in Ghana was perhaps a bit more technical than usual, but the results are certainly positive.
On our second day in Cape Coast, just as we were deciding to pack up and depart for Kumasi, we met a new friend. Tony advised us that rather than traveling to Kumasi (which is larger than Accra and no less than 4 hours away), why not go to Winneba instead? Beaches, annual festival, and en route to Accra.
We learned that Tony is a football (soccer) coach in Cape Coast, and together with a few friends, began the “Be Just Football Club.” As a registered football club affiliated to the Central Regional Football Association, the Be Just Football Club seeks to participate in football to the highest level and produce quality footballers within the local and international football leagues as well as producing players to feed the national teams. The Be Just Football Club also works to use football as a means to assist the less privileged in the society (I.e. orphanages, prisons, and hospitals), and to keep teenagers engaged in positive and healthy activity.
Tony mentioned that he was anxious to have a website for his club; in fact, his players were pestering him relentlessly. He was trying to save money to hire a web designer.
I offered my paltry, but baseline, skills to help Tony create a free website using Blogger. We met at our hotel and typed up all of the content first, then spent an hour and a half at the internet café putting it all together.
You may visit the Be Just Football Club website to learn about their team! Tony and I included a Clustr visitor map to track the location of visitors to the website; please add your international location (achieved by simply visiting the Be Just Football Club website)!
Wi-Fi in Cairo
>> May 14, 2010
I am falling head over heels for Cairo.
My elation may be in part a result of 2 hours of sleep on our flight from Accra.
Today is our first day of Wi-Fi since Jabalpur, India. There is so much to catch up on, especially the illustrations for our travelogue! Check out Ethiopia photos by clicking this link!
Ghana photos soon to follow.
xoxoxo
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Ghana photos soon to follow.
xoxoxo
White Sails of Winneba
written by Nathan
After sunrise, a dozen small white sails cover the horizon. They sail past the horizon.
Morning fishing on this coast takes many forms.
Early risers go deep to the drop offs where the Atlantic spills up out of the deep. These walls are where the great schools of big fish migrate; and, the men use hand lines to pull in the fish when luck hooks a tuna or mackerel.
Last night, a lonely boat kept its light on much past midnight. The fishermen spend the night hooking squid.
Later this morning, men in giant sea-going canoes will set out. Their canoes are filled with long shallow nets. They catch shore fish. Their nets have vary small openings, but only are two meters deep.
A boy dives off of the front of the boat. He grabs the end of the line and swims toward shore. The boat appears to be leaving him. He surfs through the big waves, guiding the nets perpendicular to shore.
The boat is hading back now, they have emptied the boat of all its net. The tall man at the front of the boat is putting off line. Then another, bigger boy, dives off of the boat into the water and swims towards shore. Then another man dives in. They swim in. A great circle is forming behind them as they face the shore.
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Music on the Streets of West Africa
>> May 13, 2010
written by Nathan
If you love the culture or are from the Caribbean (in my case the Gulf of Mexico’s coastal parishes) you would feel right at home in West Africa. Here, the people’s sway, their excited conversation, their public life…the love of family, community, respect for elderly, the deference of small children, grown-upness of teenage youth, all concedes the same spirit: warmth of life, of markets, of churches and worship here, the public parade and royalty of music, these are here - and move around you in social forms, in group spirit.
Life musically sustains streets as civilities exchanged maintain sacred orders on manner. One needs to be from these new lands to see what is evident and obvious. To not be inculcated into the naturality and ital spirit of a group of peoples obstructed from their kingdoms by 500 years of strange oppression would be foreign for most outsiders, which it is not for us. Days leave streets evacuated as blinding light gives harsh and partial visibility to white walls; while sleeping forms muddle in darkness of the thickest tree shade. Read more...
What is This Stuff?
From hotel to hotel, from town to town, we trudge up and down hill and broken street carrying this stuff on our backs. We have become well-versed at flying into our destination city, finding a hotel and spending a few days exploring, and then leaving one of our bags with the hotel staff while we venture out for a week or two. Each time we begin our return trip to the second bag, we say to each other, “What is in that thing? What haven’t we needed for the last two weeks?” And we return, empty the contents in a heap, and try, for the umpteenth time, to cull our belongings. But our bags never really seem to lighten.
Our technology stuff is fairly extensive, and we cannot bear to part with any of it. Two MP3 players (one which doubles as a jump drive), a 250GB hard drive, camera and charger and cords, laptop and cord, and tiny portable speakers.
Clothing is truly down to a minimum, a much easier task in warm climates. N has three t-shirts, two shorts (one are swim trunks), two pairs of pants, one long-sleeve lightweight parka, and a sweater. I have two skirts, three shirts (just bought a new one yesterday in the market!), a swimsuit, two dresses, a sweatshirt, one long sleeve shirt, and one thin tank top. We also each have a pair of flipflops and a pair of sneakers.
We carry two sleeping bags and a tent with poles. We have yet to use the tent, but we pack the darn thing EVERYWHERE in the hopes of having a chance.
The first aid kit is completely neglected…we haven’t pulled it out in months. But we carry it, ‘cause you just never know.
A large bulk of the things we carry are gifts for people we have yet to meet. Giving the stuff away is the fun part: we think of the people who have made impressions on us, have been humbly helpful in unasked for ways, seemed like they could use or appreciate what we have to give away, or otherwise made us happy in some small way.
Our gift giving began long, long ago in China, when we gave away the last of the items we brought from New Orleans: pralines and Cheeky Cookie Macaroons. We still carry around half a container of cajun spice, some bay leaves, and a few packages of Tabasco and Crystal hot sauce, for the next time we can cook for some new friends. We also have bags of Indian chai tea and spices to share.
In Accra, Brittany gave away the orange silk shawl I got for her in India to the sweet, beautiful woman who sells fried plantains. It still had some light spatter marks from the colored paints and powders we had been doused with during “Holi” festival in Hardiwar. She exclaimed in delight as we snacked on spicy, caramelized goodness.
Nathan gave away a hand-carved marble lion we bought at the waterfall Jabalpur, India. The lion’s feet had been broken in transit, but his regal torso was intact. When we gave it to Black Shanti to glorify his DJ studio in Asylum Down neighborhood in Accra; we knew he was also technical enough to have some super glue the feet back on.
There is a can of ‘Prickly heat’ powder purchased in Thailand which has been waiting for the right person (itch relief powder with a slight burning feeling is not the kind of thing you can hoist onto just anyone).
We still have the National Geographic ‘Crucible of History ‘ map (the archeological history of Old Jerusalem and the Middle East) we got from Nathan’s uncle in Philadelphia - who would appreciate it fully? We haven’t found the perfect person yet, but rest assured, we will.
Nathan brought his cellphone and charger, even though it was a terrible phone, even in the United States. He drove Brittany crazy with the background noise in the reception and an extremely muffled microphone. But we thought that perhaps we would get a SIM card in some country and use it. So, we carried it for months, until leaving it with the Chauhan’s. The timing of the gift was impeccable and made the burden of carrying it for three months absolutely worth it.
In Mussoorie, India, we gave away our two winter coats to the kind Chai seller who didn’t judge our two (or sometimes three or four) chai teas a day. He also got a bag of Brittany’s assorted ladies clothes for his wife and sisters.
We gifted a few of Ghandi’s books to our friends at Action Aid in Kemba, Ethiopia, knowing that we had found a perfect place to pass on his ideas and words.
But, even when the piles are sorted and we have given the fun stuff away again…our bags immediately refill with the next series of gifts which we are willing to carry for months, through the next fifteen or so countries, because we know that the perfect recipient is just around that next bend in the road.
Renumerances
>> May 11, 2010
written by Nathan
How would you feel if you knew that your friend, your neighbor, or your employee, in addition to paying for food, monthly rent, and other bills, also managed to send 15-50% of all his monthly wages to the family he left in Africa, Asia, or Latin America? Imagine if this friend was making minimum wage, or perhaps even less with an under-the-table income. Most likely, your friend sends money overseas using a company like Moneygram or Western Union, businesses that charge a minimum of 10-15% charge per transfer. We think of these companies as reliable stewards of international and national money transfers, but the reality tells a very different story.
Do you own stocks in companies like Western Union or Moneygram? If you were a stockholder and if you knew of alternative renumerance programs or agencies that charged, say, only 4-6%, would that business investment appeal to you? What if these alternative programs were not in your stock’s interests? Would you be inclined to invest more in these types of programs and companies even if you knew the return would not initially be as high? If the stockholders who own these companies sought changes, what sorts of programs could such agents develop that would assist the communities from which their profits are hinged?
To me, it doesn’t seem especially justifiable that the rates of these companies are much higher when funds are sent to communities with the least options for receiving the renumerances. What about if you knew of agencies that used part of their profits to provide economic and community financial literacy tools to help make the investments have more efficacy?
All across the world, we see people spending their weekends in line at Western Union, either sending or receiving funds from or to their loved ones abroad. All over the ‘3rd World’ the most common financial institutions we have seen are built around renumerations being sent home from immigrants who have ‘made it‘ abroad. This money supports entire villages, and builds homes for a future return. This money pays for critical care for elderly parents and relatives, and it pays for education for children who will grow up hardly knowing their distant fathers.
The truth is that the immigrants we know who have ’made it’ to the western world struggle with 2-3 jobs, work many more hours than their neighbors, often live together with multiple families in one small house, filling beds in shifts. Every time we are in immigrant communities in the west, the mirror operations of the same financial institutions which are so prolific here seem to be on every corner. Take a look for yourself. The next time you are on Main Street of the immigrant working class community of your town or neighborhood try and do a head count of the number of Western Union or Moneygram operations.
The world has a new economic connectedness of which we should all strive to have some awareness. The links of money and markets affect societies, environments, governments, and families. These connections are tied to our own lives in ways that we may not be aware of; but which demand our attention in how our own money and resources are connected, managed, and operated.
Wages earned by the gas station attendant on the corner, and the wages paid to our hotel assistants, our bakers, our dentists, and our children’s care providers are going to families back home, are building their dream homes, and are paying for education. You would probably be surprised to find out how many people you are connected to send money overseas. If we support positive uses of money and resources we may also naturally build equity in the world. If you knew there were better renumerance options for your friend, would you tell him about the other options?
We live in a world of wealth. In the economic sense, our ’first world’ or western money rules the world. Its trade has impacts. Our purchases make both richness and poverty. Yet, economic equity and justice are available in models that promote positive capital creation and fair trade. We can use our market capacities to build positive relations and healthier communities abroad that bring equity and satisfaction into the world.
There are many ways to invest in trusts, give to high functioning and equitable foundation, or build wealth from companies who arrest status quo exploitation economics. Investigate and share these with us or your fiends. If you are aware of services linking investment to positive change please leave us a comment - we will link to companies with this article (like those providing alternative renumerance options for immigrants to get their earnings to their families back home besides Moneygram or Western Union). Read more...
Going Guidebook-less
>> May 10, 2010
If I may be so bold, I would say that we have become exceptional travelers. We haven’t always been this good….it’s a skill that has developed in the last five months on the road.
When we began this journey in December, we carried with us a Lonely Planet India Guidebook. Let me note that we didn’t arrive in India until three months later, and additionally, let me specify that the LP India weighs about four pounds. It was a bone of contention between us, but once we left home with it, why would we dump it before arriving in India? I was delighted to pawn it off on our good friends in Jabalpur in our last few weeks in India. We learned a few lessons from having that guidebook: 1) it is way too heavy for backpackers; 2) that we oftentimes used the guidebook to determine where we DIDN‘T want to go, since every other foreigner was also there; and 3) that we oftentimes set ourselves up for disappointment when the prices listed for hotel and transportation were vastly incorrect. While great for some, and mandatory for many types of travelers, they just don’t seem to help us that much.
So, we bagged the whole guidebook thing. We use the space in our bags to tote a few, quickly devoured, pleasure books, some short pamphlet-style literature from Ghandi’s Ashram, and plenty of our own writings. This isn’t to say that we aren’t interested in browsing through a guidebook should it cross our path, but we don’t seek them out. When we are trying to determine a direction, we look at our National Geographic World Map, stop by a travel/tour office and ask some questions (the people who work in these offices are notoriously bored and are happy to chat), or talk to the people that we meet along the way. We also sometimes save regional maps to our computer and use them for reference.
Last week when we left Accra, intending to head down the coast to Cape Coast, we arrived at the bus station only to find that the CC bus had left a few hours earlier. So, we just hopped aboard the next bus, bound for a town called “Takoradi.” Now, without a map, or a guidebook, or very positive customer service at the bus station, we hadn’t the slightest idea where Takoradi was….but we knew that it was in Ghana and only four hours away. Quick deductions told us that it wasn’t east (for Togo was only three hours), so let’s go North….or West….or Northwest….or wherever Takoradi is! Tickets purchased and window seats scored, we were soon delighted to find ourselves traveling west, along the Atlantic Coast.
Strangely enough, our bus passed right through Cape Coast, but since we’d purchased tickets on to Takoradi, we stayed aboard. We ended up staying three days in Takoradi, quickly establishing ourselves as regulars at the local restaurant and enjoying countless bowls of spicy groundnut (“peanut” for all you foreigners) chowder, wandering through the industrial port, browsing through the market, and spending ridiculously hot afternoons watching Tela Novellas dubbed in English on our hotel television.
After a few lazy days in Takoradi, we backtracked to Cape Coast, our original destination. Debarking from the bus, we coyly evaded the merciless taxi drivers and walked half a mile, then catching a reasonably-priced taxi into town. We told the driver that we wanted a hotel room for around 10 cedis ($8 USD) and he deposited us in a modest hotel with a fantastic balcony that catches the most spectacular evening breezes from the ocean. At night we relaxed in the fresh air and watched fruit bats the size of owls swooping in the gigantic tree outside of the balcony.
However, let our readers not think that each and every part of our guidebook-less adventure is pleasant. I can recall a few that weren’t so easy or carefree. I can even remember a few where we would have been delighted to have the address of a hotel….ANY hotel! But my selective memory is a gift and I remember more vividly the times when we unexpectedly arrived at a perfect place, of our own accord, with nothing to thank but hope, perseverance, and luck.
There is certainly a wealth of information on the internet, but we don’t really do much in the way of internet research either; most of our internet time is spent posting blogs, dealing with business from home, and trying to stay in touch with friends and family. When I am out exploring the world, I don’t feel inclined to spend too much of my time reading about other people’s explorations. There just isn’t enough time in the day; better to spend the hours wandering and talking to people and figuring things out for ourselves.
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When we began this journey in December, we carried with us a Lonely Planet India Guidebook. Let me note that we didn’t arrive in India until three months later, and additionally, let me specify that the LP India weighs about four pounds. It was a bone of contention between us, but once we left home with it, why would we dump it before arriving in India? I was delighted to pawn it off on our good friends in Jabalpur in our last few weeks in India. We learned a few lessons from having that guidebook: 1) it is way too heavy for backpackers; 2) that we oftentimes used the guidebook to determine where we DIDN‘T want to go, since every other foreigner was also there; and 3) that we oftentimes set ourselves up for disappointment when the prices listed for hotel and transportation were vastly incorrect. While great for some, and mandatory for many types of travelers, they just don’t seem to help us that much.
So, we bagged the whole guidebook thing. We use the space in our bags to tote a few, quickly devoured, pleasure books, some short pamphlet-style literature from Ghandi’s Ashram, and plenty of our own writings. This isn’t to say that we aren’t interested in browsing through a guidebook should it cross our path, but we don’t seek them out. When we are trying to determine a direction, we look at our National Geographic World Map, stop by a travel/tour office and ask some questions (the people who work in these offices are notoriously bored and are happy to chat), or talk to the people that we meet along the way. We also sometimes save regional maps to our computer and use them for reference.
Last week when we left Accra, intending to head down the coast to Cape Coast, we arrived at the bus station only to find that the CC bus had left a few hours earlier. So, we just hopped aboard the next bus, bound for a town called “Takoradi.” Now, without a map, or a guidebook, or very positive customer service at the bus station, we hadn’t the slightest idea where Takoradi was….but we knew that it was in Ghana and only four hours away. Quick deductions told us that it wasn’t east (for Togo was only three hours), so let’s go North….or West….or Northwest….or wherever Takoradi is! Tickets purchased and window seats scored, we were soon delighted to find ourselves traveling west, along the Atlantic Coast.
Strangely enough, our bus passed right through Cape Coast, but since we’d purchased tickets on to Takoradi, we stayed aboard. We ended up staying three days in Takoradi, quickly establishing ourselves as regulars at the local restaurant and enjoying countless bowls of spicy groundnut (“peanut” for all you foreigners) chowder, wandering through the industrial port, browsing through the market, and spending ridiculously hot afternoons watching Tela Novellas dubbed in English on our hotel television.
After a few lazy days in Takoradi, we backtracked to Cape Coast, our original destination. Debarking from the bus, we coyly evaded the merciless taxi drivers and walked half a mile, then catching a reasonably-priced taxi into town. We told the driver that we wanted a hotel room for around 10 cedis ($8 USD) and he deposited us in a modest hotel with a fantastic balcony that catches the most spectacular evening breezes from the ocean. At night we relaxed in the fresh air and watched fruit bats the size of owls swooping in the gigantic tree outside of the balcony.
However, let our readers not think that each and every part of our guidebook-less adventure is pleasant. I can recall a few that weren’t so easy or carefree. I can even remember a few where we would have been delighted to have the address of a hotel….ANY hotel! But my selective memory is a gift and I remember more vividly the times when we unexpectedly arrived at a perfect place, of our own accord, with nothing to thank but hope, perseverance, and luck.
There is certainly a wealth of information on the internet, but we don’t really do much in the way of internet research either; most of our internet time is spent posting blogs, dealing with business from home, and trying to stay in touch with friends and family. When I am out exploring the world, I don’t feel inclined to spend too much of my time reading about other people’s explorations. There just isn’t enough time in the day; better to spend the hours wandering and talking to people and figuring things out for ourselves.
Connecting!
>> May 9, 2010
written by Nathan
We are making connections and finding new ways to live our life that make us better stewards of the planet and improve our quality of life and work. We found so much that we love about our lives together traveling. We have renewed our own love of family and friends.
And we make connections with our blog. We wake each day yearning to improve our incites, discover alternatives for the ways that we as a society do things poorly and we write about this. So, with this blog, I encourage you to do the same. Start a blog. Discover ways that you are making decisions that impact your world - and write about them. Take a leap and challenge the world. Share ideas or things that you are learning about in ways that you feel are helpful. Integrate yourself more broadly.
Then send us a link, so we can link your blog to ours. We don’t need to know you, just that you care.
And, thanks. Thanks for trusting us enough to read our blogs. Thanks for trusting us enough to know that while what we are writing is our opinion, our experience, and is probably different than what you would discover if you were in our shoes, that you know we are sincere and hopeful that our common efforts matter. Read more...
Who the Cap Fits
written by Nathan
There is something you have to feel listening to the Wailers on the night streets of Africa. There is more heartbeat and more resonance to feel. This may not even be possible on a shanty corner of the Caribbean, even in Jamaica. It may be just because Bob Marley wanted so much to be here… or that the music begins, happens, ends here. But, it is a kindred feeling.
Who the cap fits, let him wear it! Long live the
King of Reggae on the dusty streets of Africa!
------
Reggae in West Africa is just as on-the-money as in any Caribbean, European, or American hotspot. It is solid, base-filled, crooning, and ranges in harmony and nativity. In Ghana, we were so fortunate to meet our DJ friend Black Shanti and go and see his rising artist ragga star Patan at Rising Phoenix (Akuma Village). The crowd sits around a great pit of dancing, young men mostly and emphatic rastas. People stand in groups, sharing their bread, sipping pineapple juice and tonics. There is good ital and meat bbq and a stand out front selling all the necessary sundries (They have a nice restaurant with a striking sunset and moonrise view over the ocean - but restaurant did not seem to be in use during the late night concert).
These guys really know roots, rock, reggae, and the music thumps at maximum proportions from dusk to dawn.. The show we went to was free - so we felt very lucky - but they have regular live concerts that are always as fair priced as their 1.5 liter “Star” lagers. A very high recommendation for reggae listeners visiting the Capital of Accra in Ghana.
Read more...
Who the cap fits, let him wear it! Long live the
King of Reggae on the dusty streets of Africa!------
Reggae in West Africa is just as on-the-money as in any Caribbean, European, or American hotspot. It is solid, base-filled, crooning, and ranges in harmony and nativity. In Ghana, we were so fortunate to meet our DJ friend Black Shanti and go and see his rising artist ragga star Patan at Rising Phoenix (Akuma Village). The crowd sits around a great pit of dancing, young men mostly and emphatic rastas. People stand in groups, sharing their bread, sipping pineapple juice and tonics. There is good ital and meat bbq and a stand out front selling all the necessary sundries (They have a nice restaurant with a striking sunset and moonrise view over the ocean - but restaurant did not seem to be in use during the late night concert).
These guys really know roots, rock, reggae, and the music thumps at maximum proportions from dusk to dawn.. The show we went to was free - so we felt very lucky - but they have regular live concerts that are always as fair priced as their 1.5 liter “Star” lagers. A very high recommendation for reggae listeners visiting the Capital of Accra in Ghana.
Getting Our Groove On in West Africa
>> May 8, 2010
Life without music would be meaningless.” - Niezsche
[Taken from a marquee billboard advertising the Ghana Music Awards 2010
One night, as we were wandering through our Asylum Down neighborhood in Accra, we heard some great reggae bumping from a small shop with a corrugated metal roof. Being who we are, and feeling the ongoing inspiration of our portable hard-drive of collected music, we popped in to say hello. To our great delight, we found ourselves in the doorway of the local DJ studio, with DJ Black Shanti hard at work transferring music from records into digital form.
Shanti is promoting some great reggae artists from Ghana and has some ideas about creating an internet radio station. His office and DJ studio is one block from the circle of Asylum Square in Accra. If you are there and want to meet Black Shanti and some of his artists - just ask for the Rasta DJ, everyone knows him.
Thanks to Shanti, we have now have some fantastic reggae from West Africa…coming soon to a city near you! We really look forward to adding it to the 600GB collection at Hotel Oso Perezoso, and carrying it with us to share and enjoy on the rest of our travels.
We had similar good fortune in meeting another local musician in West Africa, again just by happenstance. One hot, sweaty afternoon in Lomé, as we were enjoying a cold Ekko beer at a local bar, a gentleman came up to invite us to his nightclub that evening to listen to some live Togolaise jazz! We started to speak about our jazz culture of New Orleans, but the conversation peetered out: our French was more limited than his English and we seemed to be getting nowhere. But our new friend popped into the doorway next door and emerged with his friend Yawo, who spoke both English and Spanish!. Almost immediately, our ‘translator’ became a great friend. We waxed on and on about music and the United States and cities around the world (Yawo Attivor and his Afro-Fun Band have toured and played with musicians in Africa, North America, Europe, Asia, and the Middle East). We talked politics and economics and global friendship. Yawo turned us on to some great music from Togo, and even shared some of his own tracks with us. We love it! You can get a bit of your own Yawo on youtube.com .
Another music exchange happened in Lomé, where we shared part of our collection to a budding young guitar player who managed the internet café one block from our hotel (La Patience) in Lome’.
And for the music lovers of this blog that need a bit of a soundtrack, here are a few of our other favorites (some of which you can listen to online for FREE!).
Listen to WRIU Rhode Island of Friday night, or Shepherd Mondays on 91.5 WTUL New Orleans. All of these great reggae stars of radio are ‘live’ on your internet dial streaming worldwide.
Pandora
Steve Greer’s awesome blues show on WRVU, Nashville
New Orleans' own WWOZ.
Listen to Black Shanti on radio 98.9 “Happy-FM” Ghana. Or hear it streaming on this site.
Check out our new friend Yawo on his site.
Get your groove on! And keep emailing your songs to us!
Pink Sheets
written by Nathan, April 11, 2010
Two boys, young men really, dressed in color of dry blood smocks, wring out pink cloth on our veranda. Every cloth has the hew of blood, the heart color ranges of poppy, the pink of Irish cheeks, the rose of Ethiopia. They are not tattered. They are speckled in earthen yellow, faded ochre, stolen Persian golds, buttery burnt saffron,. Flecked in white and cream colored light, they wave against light breezes - laced in shadows and mirrored by dancing stripes of oriental coal black ornament. We share space, and, some days, laundry. Together, we all bend and twist and wring the buckets and buckets. We squat beside our large petrol tubs and night pans making rusted movement like seafarers. But ,we are far away from the sea. We are high in the mountains which build the seas’ breezes. Adena, Roja, Caspina, Muerdissia, India, Pacifica. Every day these boys toil this job. It is their duty. Sheets are soaked, rung, hung and back in business. As are we all.
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Travel Gear and Material Possessions
>> May 7, 2010
Out in the world with material possessions carried on my back, I quickly established my favorites. This blog serves as a guide to those packing for a grand adventure, and as a shout-out to those who helped to prepare us!
Twisty, Elastic Clothesline: a last-minute gift from Piper, I fall more in love with this clothesline every day. It has suction cups on either end (or you can choose to use the hooks instead) and can stretch across a wide range of distances. Lightweight, compact, and infinitely better than using a piece of rope, especially in windy places where your clothes will dry in a snap, if they don’t blow away.
Tea Tree Oil: I’m so grateful that I had the foresight to bring this along, since I haven’t seen it anywhere along our travels. Tea Tree Oil is a natural antiseptic…great for small cuts, scrapes, wounds, and even to disinfect hands in a pinch. It’s also great for easing the swelling and itching of insect bites. The pungent smell was also a lifesaver in the horrifically-stenchy shared bathrooms of Ethiopia, and daubed on a handkerchief to hold against the mouth and nose in some parts of India.
Sleeping Bag: Perhaps I have already expounded enough on the joys of my sleeping bag enough, but here’s one last bit…I love my sleeping bag!! It has been fantastic in lieu of questionable hotel sheets, as padding on hard sleeping surfaces, as a throw on cold trains, and as a generally cozy comfort item. Thanks Mom!
Point-It Book: If you haven’t already read the blog posting on this book, read it. Certainly get one if you plan to travel in lands where you don’t speak the language so well. It also works well as a distraction for finicky and noisy children and can be a splendid conversation piece. It’s like our version of a party-trick.
Business Cards: We love passing out our Hotel business cards. Our contact information is readily available on them, it advertises the hotel, and people are less inclined to lose or throw away a business card as they are a small scrap of paper. People all around the world really respect business card culture, and it ensures that we get contact information in return. One even scored us a free hotel room at a hostel in China once!
Drain Plug: Perhaps N would argue that this isn’t a favorite (of his)….but really, he’s just holding out. He knows that it’s awesome. I bought a universal drain plug from Home Depot before we left, probably $1. It’s invaluable for plugging up the sink to do laundry, stopping up the tub/shower depression to soak dirty and aching feet, and even once to close a creepy hole in the wall of our bathroom.
Twisty, Elastic Clothesline: a last-minute gift from Piper, I fall more in love with this clothesline every day. It has suction cups on either end (or you can choose to use the hooks instead) and can stretch across a wide range of distances. Lightweight, compact, and infinitely better than using a piece of rope, especially in windy places where your clothes will dry in a snap, if they don’t blow away.
Tea Tree Oil: I’m so grateful that I had the foresight to bring this along, since I haven’t seen it anywhere along our travels. Tea Tree Oil is a natural antiseptic…great for small cuts, scrapes, wounds, and even to disinfect hands in a pinch. It’s also great for easing the swelling and itching of insect bites. The pungent smell was also a lifesaver in the horrifically-stenchy shared bathrooms of Ethiopia, and daubed on a handkerchief to hold against the mouth and nose in some parts of India.
Sleeping Bag: Perhaps I have already expounded enough on the joys of my sleeping bag enough, but here’s one last bit…I love my sleeping bag!! It has been fantastic in lieu of questionable hotel sheets, as padding on hard sleeping surfaces, as a throw on cold trains, and as a generally cozy comfort item. Thanks Mom!
Point-It Book: If you haven’t already read the blog posting on this book, read it. Certainly get one if you plan to travel in lands where you don’t speak the language so well. It also works well as a distraction for finicky and noisy children and can be a splendid conversation piece. It’s like our version of a party-trick.
Business Cards: We love passing out our Hotel business cards. Our contact information is readily available on them, it advertises the hotel, and people are less inclined to lose or throw away a business card as they are a small scrap of paper. People all around the world really respect business card culture, and it ensures that we get contact information in return. One even scored us a free hotel room at a hostel in China once!
Drain Plug: Perhaps N would argue that this isn’t a favorite (of his)….but really, he’s just holding out. He knows that it’s awesome. I bought a universal drain plug from Home Depot before we left, probably $1. It’s invaluable for plugging up the sink to do laundry, stopping up the tub/shower depression to soak dirty and aching feet, and even once to close a creepy hole in the wall of our bathroom.
LUSH Solid Shampoo: Thanks to a gift certificate from Lisa, we are still enjoying our LUSH shampoo. No worries about TSA restrictions, and it weighs much less than a comparable liquid amount. Doesn’t melt in the heat, is natural, and you can use only as much as you need to. One bar has lasted us five months…and counting. A backpacking girl doesn't get too many luxuries, but this fits the scene.
Microfiber Towel: Although I usually poo-poo techie or expensive travel gadgets, this one is well worth it. Incredibly absorbent, rolls up pretty tightly, and dries so quickly. We usually wrap our computer in it (nice padding) and have used it as a blanket many times.
Headlamp: From spelunking through the rock-hewn churchs of Lalibela, Ethiopia, to daily power outages in India, our headlamp has been a lifesaver. It's a considerate option when I want to stay up late reading and N wants to sleep. Great for sleeper trains and camping and even the night that we slept in a truck on a lonely road, waiting for a surging river to subside far enough to make a crossing (story here).
Nalgene Bottle: Great for tea in China, making hot soup in a pinch, and (now that we are back in the land of purified tap water) reducing our plastic waste by drinking the local tap water.We've used the bottle as a food storage container and as a tiny washing machine too.
The only thing that I didn’t bring on this trip, that I wish I had, is a pedometer. I would love to know exactly how many thousands of kilometers we will have walked by the end of this journey. I bet it’s a lot.
The Great Oil Spill
>> May 6, 2010
written by Nathan, May 2, 2010
The great oil spill of 2010 that now slickens the coastal fisheries of our home Louisiana looks particularly offensive from the coast of the Atlantic in West Africa. It is, however, easier to make out through the horizon of thickening plots and dying seas just how wealth generated from our seashores of home mimics colonial trespass, management of land purchases, and the like. A long history of exploitation does not even find financial benefits or economic justice in the riches still pouring from the Louisiana purchase 200 years on.
Louisiana, an economic boon for the United States, is still only an afterthought in discussions of economic justice, resource degradation, and oppressed peoples. While all classes of people are affected by the dangerous physical and environmental degradations at place on the Louisiana Gulf Coast wetlands, our political class will make no collective efforts at restitutions and environmental clean-up and reconstruction so long as they are in the pockets of status quo decision making. Other classes have no power. While we laugh at our tongue-in-cheek state motto, “Louisiana - Third World and Proud of it,” we do not seek meaningful change or equity improvement either as a nation or locally.
Long Live the Germs!
>> May 5, 2010
Our western world has a sick obsession with health . Advertisements
for vitamins and sleep aids and antidepressants and antibacterial soap
have infested our television channels and radio stations. Healthcare
is a limitless market, and the insurance and pharmaceutical companies
(and some doctors) that make so much money from our obsessions and
anxieties are delighted to make their contributions. People are
terrified of sickness and our world happily capitalizes on these
fears.
Although in the United States, health care continues to be an ongoing
battle, the rest of the world considers healthcare in the United
States to be of the highest caliber. It may not be affordable for all,
it may be difficult for many, but it is present. It exists. One of the
largest and most transformative differences in the health care between
our country and others is the presence of preventative health care.
Not having kids myself, I cannot be fully confident in my
speculations, but in the United States, aren't government-sponsored
programs available to ensure that all children receive the
now-mandatory immunizations and vaccines: polio, etc.? Isn't it true
that nearly all children are able to receive these preventative
measures, regardless of the income of their parents? The availability
of services such as these to children of the United States are
monumental.
Here in Africa, the ravaging effects of polio are rampant. Without
medical training, it took me some time to realize that Polio is the
cause of many deformities here. But visible symptoms are found almost
exclusively in the population of Africans older than 30 years. It
paints a picture of when government programs began, and perhaps marks
the time of foreign healthcare involvement.
When you watch the news, or the dramatic international welfare
programs, it's no wonder that most people obsess over staying healthy
while traveling. I don't discount the inclination of most travelers,
nor do I mean to discredit the wise advice of the CDC. But I happen to
have the immunity of a horse and always have. This doesn't mean that I
don't get sick, but I seem to be healthier than many people I know. I
credit this to parents who weren't especially germ-obsessed and who
packed my body full of freshly grown fruit, vegetables, and meat when
I was a child. And of course, being a family in the United States, I
received all of the recommended/required vaccinations and
immunizations as a child. We are lucky like that.
As a traveler, it is very easy to get yourself freaked out by
potential sickness. When you see disease and sickness and infections
running rampant through the places you travel, it is natural to get
nervous. But you have to fight that feeling, for ignorance can be
truly fatal, both to yourself and to the communities you visit. I have
watched foreigners in Africa who have refused contact with the
beautiful, friendly, happy children here. They pull away from hugs and
have their hand-sanitizer on the draw. This is heart-breaking to
watch…how do you think that child feels, realizing that someone they
desperately want to interact with is scared of touching them? What a
horrific feeling that must be for a child.
I have to admit, I have been a bit blasé about my travelers health. I
blame the lack of time, and the very expensive cost of healthcare in
the United States, and my even-more-blasé husband. But the truth is, I
just got lazy and hoped for the best. So far (knock on wood), our
health holds strong!
I have never received either of the Hepatitis vaccines (A or B). I got
a tetanus shot right before Hurricane Katrina, and they last 10 years.
Oh, and I did buy malaria pills while in India: only $2 for 24 pills!
We have taken them throughout Africa. Lesson learned: if your psyche
can handle the brief delay, buy your medications once you have arrived
abroad…you will save SO much money! Obviously, any country that has a
prevalence of malaria will also sell malaria pills, but at such a
savings!
I have a vivid memory of our first days in Tokyo, surrounded by a sea
of faces obscured by white medical masks. It took some time to realize
that the Japanese weren't simply obsessed with becoming sick (H1N1 was
still headline news), but also wore masks as protection against
pollution, and also to isolate their own sickness. Our first days felt
like a sci-fi movie.
Upon our arrival in Shanghai, we each had to pass through a body heat
scanner to determine whether we were carrying a sickness that was
accompanied by a high body temperature. We also were required to fill
our a health information card: checklist of symptoms, places traveled
in the six weeks prior to arrival, airplane seat number, contact
information, etc. Who would be fool enough to seriously check boxes
identifying symptoms? I think that the recourse of Chinese officials
would have been to detain you in quarantine for an undetermined period
of time.
Both Ethiopia and Ghana (and perhaps even Togo for that matter)
indicated mandates for Yellow Fever vaccine on their embassy websites.
"A visitor could be quarantined for a mandatory five days if entering
without a valid yellow fever vaccine certificate." I never received
the vaccine, and they never asked to see Nathan's certificate. So, I'm
glad we didn't stress about that one.
The things that will keep you safe while traveling are usually the
simplest things. Drink as much safe water as your body can hold and be
smart about the type of water you are consuming. Eat healthy food
while acclimating your body more slowly to local street food (if you
swing that way). Fruits and vegetables are safest when peeled:
carrots, oranges, bananas, cucumbers, melon, mangoes, etc. Wash your
hands, but don't be a freak about it. (Re) learn not to touch your
hands to your face, eyes, mouth, nose…didn't your mom teach you about
this? Take recommended medications, but do your research first and
don't let your doctor bully you into making a decision that is
ultimately yours to make. We travel with powdered electrolyte packets
(like Emergen-C, Gatorade, etc) and Imodium for the inevitable
'travelers stomach.'
But my general motto is…"Long live the germs!" The healthiest you can
be is when you allow yourself to be exposed to germs and bacteria and
bugs that will give your body a chance to build up immunities and
strength against similar and future strains.
It's cost-effective preventative health care y'all!!
Read more...Modern Day Travelers
>> May 3, 2010
We are modern-day travelers. We have access to thousands of guide books and references and translating devices, although we rarely choose to use them. We save digital maps to our laptop and backup our blogs to a hard drive. Our connections to friends and family are nearly instantaneous, thanks to facebook and gmail and skype. We travel with gifts of literacy and insight and American passports. Our visa and mastercard debit cards combined with worldwide ATMs rarely leave us in a financial lurch. Our bright white skin opens doors to privileges and places that many cannot access. This shared journey brings with it a deepening of humility, a greater sense of empathy, and a larger connection to people of the world. It brings understanding of injustices and discriminations.
This act of traveling gives me so much perspective, but it also takes some perspective away. With the act of deepening my perspective, it actually serves to foreshorten it.
Being constantly in motion allows meager time for reflection, for processing. Traveling allows for so many experiences, so many new thoughts and visions and ideas and sensory influx that sometimes it becomes a blur. Sometimes my body takes charge and says “Stop!’ Take an afternoon and just sit. Just think. Stop moving. Sit in a straight-backed chair and stare at the wall. Spend some time on what’s inside, rather than what’s outside.
It’s strange, because those that follow a path to perfection, or achieve greatness in thought and spirit focus truly on the moment. The time is Now. In the very act of thinking about the Now, it is already past. There it went. But to live in the present and be cognizant of the Now is the thing that many great spirituals aspire to. Traveling provides that opportunity. Recognition and perception are fleeting, for you move on to the next new and foreign and amazing thing in an instant. And when this pace is maintained, reflection is hard to achieve. Our trip to Aneho was three days ago, a lifetime of experiences have elapsed since then. Why would we and how can we write about experiences that are in the past? The inability for us to “live-blog’ is difficult. It’s hard to compare. It’s hard to revisit thoughts and ideas and perceptions when they feel so distinctly in the past, and when what you once thought is now colored by what you are experiencing now. For this reason, I keep a journal. But its pages are empty of the flashing thoughts and images and ideas - how do you write when you are bumping down a gravel road before the sun has even risen?
Read more...
This act of traveling gives me so much perspective, but it also takes some perspective away. With the act of deepening my perspective, it actually serves to foreshorten it.
Being constantly in motion allows meager time for reflection, for processing. Traveling allows for so many experiences, so many new thoughts and visions and ideas and sensory influx that sometimes it becomes a blur. Sometimes my body takes charge and says “Stop!’ Take an afternoon and just sit. Just think. Stop moving. Sit in a straight-backed chair and stare at the wall. Spend some time on what’s inside, rather than what’s outside.
It’s strange, because those that follow a path to perfection, or achieve greatness in thought and spirit focus truly on the moment. The time is Now. In the very act of thinking about the Now, it is already past. There it went. But to live in the present and be cognizant of the Now is the thing that many great spirituals aspire to. Traveling provides that opportunity. Recognition and perception are fleeting, for you move on to the next new and foreign and amazing thing in an instant. And when this pace is maintained, reflection is hard to achieve. Our trip to Aneho was three days ago, a lifetime of experiences have elapsed since then. Why would we and how can we write about experiences that are in the past? The inability for us to “live-blog’ is difficult. It’s hard to compare. It’s hard to revisit thoughts and ideas and perceptions when they feel so distinctly in the past, and when what you once thought is now colored by what you are experiencing now. For this reason, I keep a journal. But its pages are empty of the flashing thoughts and images and ideas - how do you write when you are bumping down a gravel road before the sun has even risen?
Bridge Building and Travel
>> May 2, 2010
written by Nathan
We have struggled to find our service options as we had originally intended them. We hoped to find ways in which we could use our skill sets to assist communities, and to share what we have discovered in our travels, in our interactions with different cultures, and in regards to disasters. We find that we may contribute to building bridges between cultures and between nations, and bridges of friendship with individuals, families, and businesses. When we make particularly strong and trusting contacts, we build bridges of intellectual and political rigor and dignity which we know support our new friends and their communities in sustainable ways.
However, what we have consistently written about through our blog is how we can effect change at home, within our communities, and between peoples we do not know, but who share some of the same education, privilege, status, wealth, and interconnectedness. We believe we institute ‘viral’ change through writing this blog. We know that our opinions and experiences remain searchable through the internet and continue to reach people and change opinions in actions in ways that we are not aware of.
One constant that comes from our western type of education and role models who have shaped our intellectual, spiritual, and professional lives is our gift for critical thinking. The scientific model of rational thought and critical inquiry allows us to question status quo relationships which exist in many different and similar forms across the planet. We have written about some of these; we hope to continue to deduce, research, and formulate new opinions on others which we still are discovering. Some of them may seem obvious to our readers - our blog continues to sprout new readership from across the globe, each of you comes for different purposes. We hope we are serving the purpose for which your ‘search’ found us; or, if not, that we are enlightening or just entertaining you!
We know you find us if you already know us or our connected to us. We also know you find us if you have similar interests in travel, greening the planet, sustainable development, photography, family, food, culture, adventure and the like. If you like all of this stuff, we will not let you down, everyday we are actively seeking more of it. You may also have found us because we share similar interests. Maybe you are like us because you travel but you gave up the guide book. Maybe you travel, but you feel compelled to find a way to do service, reduce your carbon footprint, or be an ambassador of your home community on the way. Maybe you also plan to travel to one of the countries that we have visited. Whatever it was that brought you to our blog, please do subscribe, bookmark, recommend. As old man Bob French, the DJ on WWOZ*, our home radio station and the ’best radio in the universe’ reiterates on his morning broadcast, ’if you like our show, tell your friends! if you don’t like it, don’t tell nobody!!’
Thanks - and stay tuned!
*For those readers who don’t already know of WWOZ, it truly is a fantastic radio station out of New Orleans. You can listed online by following this link.
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However, what we have consistently written about through our blog is how we can effect change at home, within our communities, and between peoples we do not know, but who share some of the same education, privilege, status, wealth, and interconnectedness. We believe we institute ‘viral’ change through writing this blog. We know that our opinions and experiences remain searchable through the internet and continue to reach people and change opinions in actions in ways that we are not aware of.
One constant that comes from our western type of education and role models who have shaped our intellectual, spiritual, and professional lives is our gift for critical thinking. The scientific model of rational thought and critical inquiry allows us to question status quo relationships which exist in many different and similar forms across the planet. We have written about some of these; we hope to continue to deduce, research, and formulate new opinions on others which we still are discovering. Some of them may seem obvious to our readers - our blog continues to sprout new readership from across the globe, each of you comes for different purposes. We hope we are serving the purpose for which your ‘search’ found us; or, if not, that we are enlightening or just entertaining you!
We know you find us if you already know us or our connected to us. We also know you find us if you have similar interests in travel, greening the planet, sustainable development, photography, family, food, culture, adventure and the like. If you like all of this stuff, we will not let you down, everyday we are actively seeking more of it. You may also have found us because we share similar interests. Maybe you are like us because you travel but you gave up the guide book. Maybe you travel, but you feel compelled to find a way to do service, reduce your carbon footprint, or be an ambassador of your home community on the way. Maybe you also plan to travel to one of the countries that we have visited. Whatever it was that brought you to our blog, please do subscribe, bookmark, recommend. As old man Bob French, the DJ on WWOZ*, our home radio station and the ’best radio in the universe’ reiterates on his morning broadcast, ’if you like our show, tell your friends! if you don’t like it, don’t tell nobody!!’
Thanks - and stay tuned!
*For those readers who don’t already know of WWOZ, it truly is a fantastic radio station out of New Orleans. You can listed online by following this link.
Familiar Faces
>> May 1, 2010
Here in Lome, Togo, the weather mimics that of a New Orleans summer: morning is June, noon feels like July, and mid-afternoon is the mind-melting, hallucination-inducing, detour-as-far-as-necessary-to-keep-to-the-shade, sweltering heat of August. The familiar climate, combined with the news of great performances at the 2010 JazzFest makes me makes me nostalgic for New Orleans. I love being where I am, but some of the things and places and people I love so dearly seem so far away.
Although we travel to South America with regularity, we have friends there. We have people who we regard as family. Home doesn’t seem quite as distant when there are familiar faces and voices. Our time in Colombia usually has some length; we settle in for a while. We get the scoop on the latest gossip, and we continue conversations started the day before. Long distance travel hasn’t these luxuries. Part of the magical experience is consistently being on the move, seeing and learning and experiencing so much in a short(ish) period of time. But with this mode comes an inability to connect on a deeper level, to delve deeper into the personalities of the people you meet, to grasp a larger, deeper concept of the place you are visiting. Because, after all, you are A Visitor. A lucky one, and hopefully a grateful one, but a Visitor just the same.
It seems to have been around the four-month travel mark that I began seeing people I knew out in the big wild world. Well, people who looked like people I know: a look-alike T.S. in India driving us through Mumbai; a man who was assuredly Kermit Ruffin’s brother (same big smile and dapper hat); a laugh that made me whip around, expecting to see Becky, her head thrown back in giggles. Faces and expressions and shapes and tonalities of voice lurch me from where I am, to the life we have left behind (albeit briefly in the grand scheme of things).
We spent one night in Aneho, Togo, close to the beach. At our hotel was a dog that must have been the sister of my grandmother’s dog, “Got-to.” Maybe a little big sweeter, a bit older, slightly lazier, but still the same darn dog.
Exploring our hotel options in Accra last week, we popped into the “Royal Hotel” for a peek. If my eyes had been closed, I would have sworn on my life that we had walked into my grandmother’s bungalow in Eliot, Maine. My footsteps resounded in the same way on the thinly carpeted floor, the air was heavy with the odor of age and books and mothballs, and the room had a slight salty tang that had seeped into the walls over time.
A dog in the night sounds like Nutter, and I grumble through my dreams for her to hush up.
Someone in our current hotel, Hotel Patience, wears perfume that smells of Tamar. I’m not sure if it is my aunt of childhood, or if she still wears the same scent. But I find myself disappointed when I walk into the lobby and she isn’t there.
Who will be our first, true, familiar face. Will it not be until our visit with Aunt Nancy and Uncle Nat in Brittany? Or perhaps Melissa in Turkey? Where in the world is Peter? Chris, don’t tease, will we see you in Morocco? And that crazy travelin’ Robin, always in a new corner of the globe…come to our corner! Where are your familiar faces? I see you all everywhere, but it turns out not to really be you.
There are reminders of you everywhere. I see you; I hear you; I smell you; I miss you. You are never as far away as our National Geographic world map seems to indicate.
Halfway from home, halfway ‘till we are back again.
Read more...
Although we travel to South America with regularity, we have friends there. We have people who we regard as family. Home doesn’t seem quite as distant when there are familiar faces and voices. Our time in Colombia usually has some length; we settle in for a while. We get the scoop on the latest gossip, and we continue conversations started the day before. Long distance travel hasn’t these luxuries. Part of the magical experience is consistently being on the move, seeing and learning and experiencing so much in a short(ish) period of time. But with this mode comes an inability to connect on a deeper level, to delve deeper into the personalities of the people you meet, to grasp a larger, deeper concept of the place you are visiting. Because, after all, you are A Visitor. A lucky one, and hopefully a grateful one, but a Visitor just the same.
It seems to have been around the four-month travel mark that I began seeing people I knew out in the big wild world. Well, people who looked like people I know: a look-alike T.S. in India driving us through Mumbai; a man who was assuredly Kermit Ruffin’s brother (same big smile and dapper hat); a laugh that made me whip around, expecting to see Becky, her head thrown back in giggles. Faces and expressions and shapes and tonalities of voice lurch me from where I am, to the life we have left behind (albeit briefly in the grand scheme of things).
We spent one night in Aneho, Togo, close to the beach. At our hotel was a dog that must have been the sister of my grandmother’s dog, “Got-to.” Maybe a little big sweeter, a bit older, slightly lazier, but still the same darn dog.
Exploring our hotel options in Accra last week, we popped into the “Royal Hotel” for a peek. If my eyes had been closed, I would have sworn on my life that we had walked into my grandmother’s bungalow in Eliot, Maine. My footsteps resounded in the same way on the thinly carpeted floor, the air was heavy with the odor of age and books and mothballs, and the room had a slight salty tang that had seeped into the walls over time.
A dog in the night sounds like Nutter, and I grumble through my dreams for her to hush up.
Someone in our current hotel, Hotel Patience, wears perfume that smells of Tamar. I’m not sure if it is my aunt of childhood, or if she still wears the same scent. But I find myself disappointed when I walk into the lobby and she isn’t there.
Who will be our first, true, familiar face. Will it not be until our visit with Aunt Nancy and Uncle Nat in Brittany? Or perhaps Melissa in Turkey? Where in the world is Peter? Chris, don’t tease, will we see you in Morocco? And that crazy travelin’ Robin, always in a new corner of the globe…come to our corner! Where are your familiar faces? I see you all everywhere, but it turns out not to really be you.
There are reminders of you everywhere. I see you; I hear you; I smell you; I miss you. You are never as far away as our National Geographic world map seems to indicate.
Halfway from home, halfway ‘till we are back again.
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