"Leaves of Three, Let it Be!"

>> July 31, 2010

Those of you on Facebook may already be clued in to my grandmothers weekly gardening blog, Weeds and Wisdom. She wrote a great piece last week on her crafty strategy for deterring hunters from trespassing on their land in northwestern Connecticut: beware the Taraxacum!! Her column this week is about Poison Ivy: "a plant no one can love." Aptly put, Hatter!

When I was a small girl, I was immune to poison ivy. I could touch it and play in it and it hadn't an effect. In fact, there may even be a family story about a certain someone hiding from her grandmother in a patch of poison ivy, refusing to emerge, and knowing that no one would dare retrieve her. However, karma eventually came around and gave this bratty girl a kick in the booty a few years later. What were we doing in the days leading up to our Miss Porter's graduation that I contracted such a dreadful case of poison ivy? Whatever it was, it was most likely naughty, and so my bout of poison ivy in the first week of travel through Italy was undoubtedly well deserved.

Our bodies have exceptional immunities that protect us against bacteria and sickness and disease. Some of our immunities are innate, and some are adaptive defense measures that we develop over a lifetime.

During the last seven months of travel, our bodies have been working exceptionally hard: treking down endless city sidewalks; scaling hillsides and desert sands; bearing the never-diminishing weight of heavy backpacks; and exploring ancient roman ruins and pyramids in flip flops.

But these are just the physical exertions of our bodies; no mention yet of the real work: fighting germs and diseases. Our bodies will be grateful for the rest, once we return to the land where our ancestors have been for several hundred years, where the bacteria is familiar and easy to combat. Our roots in Europe go back so far in time that our immunities to regional/geographical germs have diluted over the years. Though, they are still stronger than our African health immunities, which are even more distant. And in regards to Asia, my innate immunity might be completely nonexistent. 

But really, I'm not an expert on immunity; I'll leave the nitty gritty to those in the crowd with PhDs.

All I really know about immunities is that I've got a rockin' set, but that they’ve been working pretty hard. They may be the only part of me excited to complete this first journey around the world.

If you would like to join the Weeds and Wisdom digest mailing list, or even ask Hatsy your own gardening questions, send her an email at hatsy@sbcglobal.net.

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Throw "Away" Rugs - Abstract or Intentional?

>> July 30, 2010

Rugs have been a tool of trade, savings, and artisan folklore for many many generations in Morocco. They are useful pieces of heritage arts.

The rugs are ubiquitous in 'souks' - markets of Marrakesh. There are many different styles, weaves, techniques for rugs, each with a sales pitch equally, unique to match each characteristic.

We are lucky to have spent a nice period of time in Marrakesh, feeling the pace of life here, walking the Derbs (streets)... learning about rugs. We have been staying with our friend who has worked and lived a life in Moroccan rugs for almost 50 years. Being this close to a lifestyle of Moroccan trading guilds makes it more real. It also means we get the inside scoop on rug sales and history.

The rug market is volatile. Prices tick up and down based on international trends. In person, prices can also rise and fall immensely depending on your understanding, interest, or good manners. The general rule is to pretend less interest in the rug you really like and bargain for it last.

Recently, there has been a flurry of articles about newly popular scrap rug art collectors in Marrakesh and Fes, Morocco. This has caused interest from our rug dealing friends and prices rise. Were we not in the heart of rug markets and Morocco would likely have had no idea that 'scrap' rugs were so en vogue: We have been surrounded by them. These rugs are everywhere covering the hand carved mosaic floors in the Riad where we are staying. They were an afterthought.

In realizing the recognized artistic quality of these rugs all around us, we venerate more the trader's eye and skillful selection of what makes the place so special. These rugs are a lovely art form. They are abstract, original, and very intentional in their artistry. Certainly, due to popularity, various rugs come in and out of production. News articles in far away lands cause looms to go to work in small villages here.

What could have caused such art movements in 'scrap' both 25 years ago and today? Are there intrinsic post-modern ingredients forming art? How are the ways which art movements are formally or informally being created connected to ways our popularity of world art trends are formed today?

It is wonderful to discover a 'sameness' in craft and art very far removed from where we think it belongs. Our friend here in Marrakesh is an expert in Moroccan art and textiles and has an incredible aesthetic eye. His shop, called Imports from Marrakech, in Manhattan's Chelsea Market specializes in Moroccan decorative art and design, with items available for event rental as well.

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Global Harvest - Entrepreneurial Energy Bears Fresh Crops of New Ideas/Actions

>> July 27, 2010

Everywhere we have been, entrepreneurial energy bears fresh crops of solutions to emerging opportunities and constraints that our world community bears together. We have to continually relearn that we have enough products/projects here on the planet already to serve as remedies. for our hardest problems. There are ideas which need refinement, updates, distribution - but, we have only to scientifically rearrange conditions/circumstances to save our planet. We are finding our resolution. We are acting with fresh energy and actions.

As Brittany and I make our circumnavigation of the planet this year, we have encountered many friends and colleagues old and new who illustrate for us a great creative propensity. to use their skills and resources for the benefit of the world. In 20th and 21st Century fashion, these creative entrepreneurs exist independently, working at existential projects. They act as individual units (though some manage people and 'portfolios'). Each are radicalizing responsibility in their own way - but not as hermits or recluses. They are generally aware of coexistence and cooperative ideas - they self-market and microenterprise as individual actors - economically competitive yet aware of collective self-interests.

We are more aware than ever of what a powerful group of friends we have made. These are the change agents of the world: While their aims can solve many societal social, environmental, and economic problems (if and when they would be organized) the psychology of their core business principle is a new interest - to act collectively; and save the planet.

The people we have met are a new power base - their efforts are in producing bi-products to save the planet.

Take Benson, an industrial engineering production specialist in China - he helped us to understand the power of science and sources of energy. His proposal to prevent catastrophe from global warming - giant ice generators pointed at the Greenland Ice Cap.

Jessica and Martin. Jessica can manage consumers, labor, and the internet. Her other half Martin can create a capitalist world trading net tying consumers in China and the West to purchasing in ways that build actions of sustainability and fair trade economics.

Roddy is training our governments to accept LBGT human rights campaigns and tying these rights and freedoms to liberation of other marginalized and repressed groups in Asia and worldwide.

Rajib Roy is extending life through inventions in health and green urban sciences.

Perry is connecting volunteer labor to new and emerging markets of western economy to build new responsible forms of tourism and retirement.

All these friends came before our recent entrance and subsequent rush across Europe from Cyprus through Turkey, the Balkans, and the Mediterranean Riviera to Gibraltar. It is expected in our western economies that we share efficiencies, values, and critical analysis. Because of our mutual assumptions, we can work off of each other.

Since then we have met Tim in Bulgaria, trying to find time between starting and running small businesses to applying himself to really learning to live by the rules from the 4-hour Workweek. There is Clivia in Marseille producing functional purse art from tape (mostly duct tape). Or Mohamed, in Marrakesh, who is not only an importer of unique quality Morrocan products to USA; but, in either country he is surrounded and admired by other entrepreneurs, industrialists, biotech start-up chiefs, and local sales and tour vendors - trying to scratch off a little of his huge luck and charisma. So many different ideas for businesses that are connecting to each other. Our friend Natalie in France, for example, would help us to link programs we hope to create when we get back home, Ashrams of service, voluntourism, ecotouristic business enterprises.

Between us all we can close the loop. As we develop new economies of mutual collective self-interest, our business ideas and productivity grow together.

What do we all have in common? In a tiny taste of an immense world of dense hardworking and compassionate human societies, we have met Turkish land tycoons, evangelist collectivist socialists, microimperialists, postmodern economists. Taken as individuals, they were all devoted believers in doing the most good with what they had each been given. But, taken as a group, and, moreover as a random sampling of ethics, values, efforts, and attitudes, they are a remarkable and forceful lot with a message to share with the world... [**** Footnote #1]

Maybe you know an unrecognized entrepreneur whose day in the spotlight has not come. Write about them here. Tell them you admire them. Threaten to tell the world how brilliant their ideas are if they don't make them public. Social network them. Suggest to them that they should connect, distribute, self-promote, integrate and collaborate these good ideas and projects with others. There is a rising tide of good works. Our acts are becoming increasingly interconnected.

**** Footnote #1
...as we rushed, we did so at times with a Zen footing. Forgetting the stones and shale, we ran blindly on the edge of an impossible steep precipice. The Abyss, Death, would not accept us. Our (ill) communication blindly driving the sands of our fates in front of us. Blind, our shadows, ran.

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Family Heirlooms

>> July 25, 2010

Our friend is a kind man; a generous man. When we are out in the souks, struggling to keep pace with his long brown legs, I rarely understand the words that float into heavy airless stalls, nestle among great stacks of weighty carpets, or reverberate in spaces filled with brass and copper. But I understand the smiles and friendship and the joy felt by his friends and acquaintances that we pass. El Sharif is a respected man, a man to be admired. He has held the American Dream in the palm of his hand and seen his own face reflected in its glossy sheen.


And yet, his heart is Moroccan. He is concerned with cultural preservation and traditional art forms. He performs as an ambassador for those who have the privilege of spending time with him, sharing his intimate knowledge of Mococco’s rich culture and history. He actually appears to enjoy having the silly Americans tag along, and our appreciation seems to be sufficient reciprocation.

His model of generosity is one to emulate. Along with cash offerings to those we encounter, El Sharif also passes out smiles and jokes and laughter and intimate banter to those we pass. The impact of these heartfelt interactions is tangible; the dark stalls brighten with beaming grins and conversation. His ability to reach out and connect with those around him, as he winds through the dense markets is a language he has been practicing since he was a child, spending time in the carpet markets with his father. It's a family tradition, like so many that we encounter in this part of the world. 

Knowledge and networks are family heirlooms here in Morocco, with the same imperfections and sentimental values that we associate with our antique armoires and family jewelry. They are cherished and honored and passed down through generations, collecting dust and stories and worn edges.

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Delta Dreams

>> July 23, 2010

One of my dearest friends has carved out a niche for herself in Mississippi. Even though I am in Marrakech, my thoughts are drawn to the Delta, for Facebook tells me that Robin is beginning the long trip, driving from the Pacific Northwest down to the sticky south. She has a deadline: the Sunflower River Blues and Gospel Festival starts in two weeks, and she undoubtedly has a long task list before the Acoustic Stage is ready!


Robin is a merchant marine, but she moonlights as the owner and MC of an open-air blues venue in Clarksdale, Mississippi. Don’t you just love it? Especially since Clarksdale is more than 350 miles from the closest sea. Robin loves a good project. She will perhaps argue that the projects find her, rather than the other way around. But I know better.

Along with ongoing home design and improvement projects in the Pacific Northwest, Robin is also in the process of renovating and restoring an old 1950s movie theater in Clarksdale: The New Roxy. When Robin purchased the building several years ago, the interior was filled with debris, rotting wood, and pervasive poison ivy. The roof was missing, and a precarious balcony hung by a thread. The original marquee still proudly hung above the double theater doors, but the New Roxy suffered from an accumulated twenty-five years of neglect

With a strong commitment to preserving the original layout and historical elements of the New Roxy, work has been steady and positive for the past two years. Film and photograph documentation ensure that the history of the New Roxy and of its placement in the neighborhood is documented. With a rich history that includes serves as the first place of employment for the teenaged Ike Turner, as well as for many other youth of the town, the New Roxy holds rich and important memories and reminiscences for the local community. Thanks to help from locals, friends, and with great personal determination, Robin has lifted this dilapidated theater from its lowly position as an eyesore and discarded relic, to a position of importance and recognition at the annual Sunflower Festival. And this festival-related status is just the beginning, just a glimpse into the impact of the New Roxy project.


see more photos of the New Roxy on myspace

If you stick around a little while, you realize that Robin’s hard physical labor and her commitment to the New Roxy has a more profound effect. Neighbors come by to check the progress and offer assistance. Stories are told (and actually listened to and oftentimes recorded) about the history of the New Roxy and its role in the Clarksdale community. Robin’s presence in Clarksdale is careful, and thoughtful, and respectful. She visits as often as she can, and strives to ensure that her contributions are ultimately positive for the town.

Robin has turned her personal interest in and passion for the delta blues into a project that has implications for the greater community. I continue to be impressed by her accomplishments and dedication to causes greater than her own.
“Working to restore and resurrect the theater is a labor of love, for the music, for the culture and for the way the two come together.” - Robin, New Roxy website

This year, the New Roxy will be featuring acoustic blues, including the great names of Charles Fowler, Foster "Tater" Wiley, Bill Abel & Cadillac John, Jimmy "Duck" Holmes, Kenny Brown, and Johnny Lowe Bow.

Are you feeling restless? Bored and ready for an adventure? Consider heading to Clarksdale for the Sunflower Festival! I predict that it will be just the first of a soon-to-be annual trip. Stop by the acoustic stage and show your recognition of Robin’s hard work by purchasing a “New Roxy” t-shirt; proceeds go towards the renovation and restoration of the theater. Or, if you are looking for a project yourself, consider volunteering with the New Roxy and contributing your skills and talents to a community project. Contact details and more information can be found at the New Roxy website. Also check out Robin’s blog, titled: “Dispatches from the Delta."

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Rewards for Travelers of Time and Patience

>> July 22, 2010

Two key ingredients which we have found for enjoying and getting the most out of your travel are patience and time.

One must have the patience to enjoy your time. And you get more time with patience. We have been told this any number of ways by other travelers and locals we met.

A reader may be surprised to know that we cannot describe with any confidence places that we have been in Japan, Italy, Egypt or the Balkans (and yet, we have impressions and still might recommend them).

Due to our impatience or to a lack of time when visiting these wonderful lands, the times there have faded quickly. What we do have from each are place markers signaling to return whenever we can.

But, could we have done any differently?

There are experiences which linger. Even in Morocco, where I am writing now, I might best describe a moment, a sound. We just have acquired enough patience to be in a new land.

We have still not described above what is for time to come to a traveler. But, finding time or living it - it has its own rewards.

Time is strange. Time is often blurred with jetlag, different daylights, late nights, or morning confusion waking up to an uncertain new space. It is lit up, fluorescent, flickering, passing.

Time is never within our control - and that is its reward. Time is less our control while traveling. It will take place when we let it, no sooner.
Justify Full
The rewards of these qualities which are critical to finding your way out of tourism and into new forms of in-place, culturally contacted, and local travel are Time and Patience.

It is hard to visit any place quickly and get more than cursory glances of a passer-by, [train] stations, and blurry highways.

Being patient, however, earns friendship and respect abroad.

[This blog I would partly connect to not traveling as light as possible - more weight on your shoulders (or precious cargo) - less inspirationally jumping to places without planning. Time is patient.]

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In the Riad (for Mohamed)

>> July 20, 2010


Sound hardly reaches here. It is lonely from sound.

Sound reaches; but it is broken like by deep distant canyon's roar or a steep mountain valley whistle. It is silence of mind.

There are bird sounds, but most like a rustle.

Every once in a while, a daytime awareness, the mind listens.

It believes there is a city around me, around here, outside the door.



Last night, I caught a wedding celebration in a corner of my dreams.

Distant, the movements of long fluted horns, may be a parade stomp.

Light, drawn down in shadows, lengthens these notes.

There is drought in the tiny chatters. Drought in shadows.



At night, there is a donkey braying.

Braying at the yard. The yard by the large gate.

My wife says, “All over the world, mules are mistreated.” I agree.

There is drought in the tiny chambers.

We open the door and go out.

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Get Paid $30,000 to Have Three Kids!

>> July 19, 2010

Coming from a two child family, I was always amazed by large families. My best friend from childhood was eventually to become the eldest out of nine. The elder children were expected to help their parents in caring for their younger siblings and were responsible for household chores. The children grew up to possess exceptional tolerance and consideration and awareness of other people. One of the most incredible thing about this family was (and still is) the depth of the love for each and every child, and how carefully each child was raised to be caring, generous, responsible, and kind people. Although issues of overpopulation and dwindling resources fuel many debates against prolific childbearing, this amazing family shows another form of action and awareness. Which is the more responsible action? To be childless by choice or by sacrifice? Or to raise conscientious, educated, thoughtful, and engaged children. I don’t have an answer that is appropriate for all, but in most things, a balance is most likely the most appropriate solution.

As we travel, one of the first questions that people ask are, “do you have children?” Depending on where we are, our reply generates a variety of responses.

In China, where overpopulation is a major concern, many couples are allowed to have only one child. Exceptions are made for rural areas (when the child is a girl), ethnic minorities, and when parents have a child illegally (without the official papers that are mandatory for school enrollment, health care, etc), or when they pay a large fine to have another. I think that families who adopt the orphaned children of relatives are exempt from this law, as are families whose sole child dies before the age of eighteen. Twins are allowed.
cousins in Yangshuo, China

As a result of the restrictions on children, China is absolutely child crazy. Huge theme parks and playgrounds and toy stores and baby clothing shops are clear indications of how spoiled Chinese children are. They are overly cherished, but with just reasons…can you understand why?

Once past the age of menstruation, Chinese women are required to visit a doctor every three months. If at the time of the visit, they are found to be pregnant, they are heavily encouraged to have an abortion. Whether or not the woman is pregnant, she is heavily pressured to use birth control. When we told the Chinese that we didn’t have children, they were confused and hurt. Why wouldn’t a healthy couple, with obvious wealth, and no laws on childbearing, be bereft of children? It may have been a slap in the face.

In Ethiopia, we met large families with many children. Ethiopia still has a large agricultural and animal-raising culture; many hands make lighter work. I was amazed to see a three-year old shepherds, striding across a vast plain at the heels of immense and bright white cows with broad horns, occasionally whacking them with a stick. Children in Ethiopia (as well as in many other cultures) possess remarkable self-confidence and self-assurance - they are conscious of their valued role in the family.
a village of friends in Kemba, Ethiopia

There are several places in the world where overpopulation is not a concern; actually, the opposite is true. Population decline is impacting Japan, Russia, most of eastern Europe, and Italy. Other countries are not far behind. The incentives offered by the government in some of these countries is astounding. The Republic of Singapore offers parents $3,000 for the first child, $9,000 in cash and savings for the second; and up to $18,000 each for the third and fourth!

In India, the gender gap is immense. Sex-selective abortion, as well as female infanticide are critical issues that will continue to impact the population of India, and have created a huge population of missing women in Asia. boys do not require an expensive dowry to be paid out, nor do they leave the family to live with the in-laws. I couldn’t say that the worth of children is lessened in India than in other cultures; however, with a very large population, extreme poverty, low standards of health and cleanliness, life is more tenuous in India. Estimates predict that by 2020, there could be an excess of 25 million men in India, instead of a natural, biological gender balance. Similar estimates are predicted for China.
students from a girls school in Ahmednagar, India

I have a good friend who has made a choice not to have children; she feels that in this modern world, it is the most responsible decision. I appreciate her candor and honesty and recognition of how privileged she is to be able to see children as a choice, rather than a necessity or obligation or powerless consequence. Perhaps not the right decision for all, but ask yourself: do I have the power and the right to make that decision? Could I make that decision out of sacrifice? Not all people reading this blog can answer yes. Think on that and read more about Childfree by Choice.

Other topics that will not be covered in this (already lengthy) blog are: discrimination against women/couples who choose not to have children; adoption; same-sex parenting; late life parenting; etc. Too many topics for one amateur blogger. I only write what I have learned and deduced from my own life and travels. But feel free to share your links or thoughts and add additional information as applicable.

I hope that this blog has given you a chance to think and reflect on your own positions of children. Each person is entitled to their own views and beliefs, but I believe greatly in the power of perspective.

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I touched a ticklish brown piece of paper

>> July 17, 2010

I touched the brown piece of paper. I touched the brown piece of paper and I almost cried.


I cried on the inside. I cried from hilarity of the scratchiness. The paper was so thick, it tickled my brain when I just touched it.

And, it was not scratchy the brown piece of paper. Not too coarse, (but coarse and soft).

The brown piece of paper it had a scratchy silence I could not hear, so quiet. the brown piece of paper has a wrinkly sound and texture. The sound and the texture both they make a nerve go up and down your spine, it shocks the jaw, up the spine and back down again, tickling and tinging you until the nerve gets stuck up at the top of your neck.

A ticiklish nerve just to even think aboutit. This is the kind of scratchiness that gets stuck in a point of your back or else gets stuck at the top of your neck where your spine meets your head.

Yes, it was that kind of tickle. Just from touching a soft and worn rag of a page, from the brown piece of paper that is torn, wrinkled and soft from too much use!

I kept touching that soft brown piece of paper and I kept getting the tickle - like an ice cream cold when you have been hot out in the sun; like being cold, or, having a funny kind of tooth ache; like chalkboard when the chalk catches it just the wrong way and it screeches like you think a tiny baby animal would screech!" The memory from that chalk board sound, now that still tickles. When it tickles, the memory of the chalk board scratching, I can feel that funny feeling from the brown piece of paper again.

The chalk board feels tickly. It makes the nerves tighten and you can feel thee muscles in your neck, the tiniest muscles, lift up, and they make your tiny hairs on your neck also stand up, like a chill air breeze.

I touched this brown piece of paper, felt a tickle run down my back, it caused me to write this story, then I started tellin' it, and the nerve run back up my neck thinking about it, run back up and got stuck there.

The feeling made me think of crumbling up leaves - brown, and golden, and reds, the leaves that come after Summer.

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Bearing the Real Costs: Relativism and Absolutism

This is a dialog built from conversation we have with fringes, elites, and mainstream power (individuals as we encounter them) between North Africa and Europe; in Spain particularly.


[Scene: There is a light breeze blowing through apartment curtains, a long porch patio of the 5th floor is bathed in bright summertime light of 9PM sunsets. It is cooling and football is on TV.]

“There is No Relativity. In suffering, there are only Absolutes,” he says to me.

I have an Uncle who has grown more resolute with old age. He does not accept our modern age’s use of relativism to lessen human acts which outrage him. He can become incensed with inhumanity.

“I was twelve and we had escaped our country to Havana,” he told us, “when we first saw the images of the Russians' discoveries in the Nazi concentration camps...we could not believe it.”

“I have friends who are survivors,” he went on, “I can assure you, there was nothing relative to theirs and their families suffering. What they lived was a pure horror - brought on by others.”

We could not agree more. I try to say as much, "As we have visited places of suffering from slave castles of Africa, mass graves of Egyptian pyramids, festering and old war zones on a Cambodian/Thai border, in the Balkans, in the horn of Africa, in our own town - from sites of mass starvation or disasters in Ethiopia, to the Concentration Camps of Serbia, the one characteristic that has united them is that the suffering which took place was absolute."

"I cannot stand this modern tendency to use relativism to dismiss people's pain!" he says.

I tell my uncle, “We relativize suffering then diminish it with our media. We teach violence to our youth. Our children see 20,000 acts of violence on TV and videos before they are seven. What craziness!!”

My uncle is elderly, he does not realize this much desensitization exists from TV and video games. His was a liife of full experience. While fiction and radio existed, a priori experience was valued above all else. He makes this case. Again, we agree but unconvivially....

“Human suffering, murder, violence and war are personal acts of outrage. They affect people’s lives.” I say to him.

I realize I am not aware of the absolute in suffering. There is absolute suffering in inhumanity.

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Morocco

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Reflecting on Estepona - Summer side hamlet with a view of Africa

>> July 12, 2010

There is a sculpture here in a park that says a lot about this ‘fishing village.’ It is an image on a hand. The wave seems to be landing - upside down! It is like an upside down ‘la vague’ with a child (baby Jesus) being swaddled on the end of an inverted waterfall. The sculpture is new but parts of the baby‘s finger digits are broken off. There is no genitalia to the infant.

This park wants to be useful and pretty. It has the sweep of wisteria covered arbors, lots of benches and a block fountain wall that seems to have an infinite pool perched on the edge above it. The fountain pours silently, rain over glass, onto a painted blue bottom pool. It is calming.

There is a sense in the park of a modern planning. It is recent construction. The good use of taxes. There are two paths that lead out of a fountain. They lead up rose covered walks to a sloping hills of manicured green, more arbors, more benches.

The benches are empty. They are waiting for people. The benches and the park are waiting for the town of old folks to adopt them and migrate in on afternoons. To be in the park away from dusty cafes, the tapa joints. The characteristic silent park is waiting for the English tourists and permanently disgruntled residents to take their pugs, bulldogs, and shelties here…once dogs and skates are allowed.

In Estepona, there is a park with an awkward sculpture hidden to the side of the entrance.

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Localvores living abroad

>> July 11, 2010


Tonight, we went out in high-end neighborhoods not far from our friend's house in Casablanca. This is a gentrifying neighborhood close to an enormous seaside mosque.

We were out trying to find some quick ingredients to put on a fast dinner. On the way, we had the good fortune to turn towards a bakery and some flower stands and find a great public market where we purchased lots of great greens, veggies, fruit etc. Outside, we also bought fresh baked breads from local vendors. We brought all of this home and had a scrumptious supper.

Casablanca is another city that is filled with small shops and great markets. On the rooftops and surrounds of a neighborhood central market you can find barbers, seamstress, repair shops, and all other sorts of small businesses you could imagine existing in the mid-twentieth, late 19th, or, perhaps even, 22nd centuries!

We love this kind of green travel.

We are localvores, we prefer to eat local, fresh, seasonal products that are unprocessed and come from local sources and traditions. The best breads and cheeses, the freshest produce, the highest caliber food production we discover available in these green markets. What delights!


More than just improving our palates, we learn from or meet the producers and farmers. We also gain better green food habits by being localvores. At local markets, by example, you do not encounter those same strange looks when you arrive with your own shopping bag or basket. For a farmer-come-to-market the reusable wood crates, wicker baskets, and tough cardboard make sense - where as having plastic bags around is just additional cost passed on to the customer.

Relearning what it means to buy local is a wonderful path. We have learned most from places where cultures have never morphed away from local production and/or delivery systems of food and services. We have found what we love in South American, Caribbean, and Indigenous Markets of our homelands existing in all parts of the world. The major difference between Aix-en-Provence or Astor Place, it turns out, is that in elite green markets the cost is more for the luxury; whereas in 'third world' markets we pay less for not importing foreign goods not in season and the 'luxury tax' f big box retail.

We remember what we loved in the enormous city affairs in China and Ghana. But, the more local we can shop the better. We are always compiling favorite memories of localvore shopping. As we progress on this path, we are defining our terms for what it means to find a great shopping community that is not based on consumerism, consumption, or marketing - but, rather, social, cultural, and familial market traditions. The more local the market the more sentimental it feels to return to it. Africa, Asia, and the Middle East have all been places that pulsed with this sentiment and a commonality of purpose in the human joy that exists more in public markets. North Africa, in Morocco, weare finding, also has these wonderful charms.

The more that a community provides for the localvore to dig down to the localist possible ingredient, merchant, or guild - the more that one can reach the source, or, near the source of the product or service which one is buying - the happier, more knowledgeable, informed and interconnected we can be. As we take on the attributes of informed and connected purchasing, we become more responsible and humane citizens of our communities.

There are too many examples for us to mention, however, India's always a great example for me of highlighting how even in mass urban communities we can rediscover our humanity through engaging our fellow people. In Mumbai, a city that is very high-paced and developing rapidly, public shaves and street haircuts still took place, spice and vegetable vendors were on pedestrian overpasses, and, my personal favorite, individual cologne dosages (daily or for special events) were sold at your local fine purveyor of smelling potions. When you participate in daily ways, when you must return to the markets and engage with your neighbors directly, you build fabric of society. When you purchase what it is that gives you life and know or trade to the source - you give your body dignity as well as nutrition.

Today, on a short detour from a supermarket, in a rush to get some quick ingredients for dinner - we discovered once again the value and contentment of the lifestyle and power of the localvore.
We remember my mother--in-law's friend Peggy in Oregon who is spending the next six months with her husband only purchasing what they have preset that they are going to shop for. If this sounds easy, try it. We applaud Peggy for leading the way to smarter consumption. Fi we think about what we hae to buy before hand, we are more likely to use decision-making skills that save us money, make us healthier, and impact the world in positive ways. Last night, we set out to but some ingredients for dinner. Because we had no plan, it is no wonder we diid not come back with bags of plastic and processed food...thannk goodness we found the loca market.

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Global Directions

>> July 9, 2010

Bonjour from Morocco! We've been adrift from the blog, caught in the whirlwind of our final few months of circling the globe. But today, as we wandered through the streets of Casablanca I realized something: this journey is only just beginning. Perhaps "honey service year" will ultimately describe this initial year of exploration, a time when the iridescent bubbles of thoughts and ideas and projects first began to take shape. But the time frame shall truly only describe this first step, for now that our journey has begun, I see no end in sight. Although our bodies may not always be in motion, it seems that our minds and energies and efforts always will be. How fantastic!

Traveling helps to deepen my faith in humanity, my trust in people, my belief that people are inherently good and helpful and filled with care for others. So much of the global media works to dissuade these sentiments - coverage of terrorist activities and radical religions and tyrannical oppressors and political activism keep the world on edge and pull people apart. We must direct our conversations and our movements toward positivity - why spend critical hours discussing the differences, the dislikes, the problems, rather than working towards solutions that can unify us as a people and make positive global changes?

There are so many points upon which we can come together. There are so many common themes among people. There are so many similarities and commonalities and positivity that can be explored, if we just take the time to share, to ask, to listen.

And aren’t there great global themes which impact us all? Aren’t we modern day proselytizers when we try to convert others to the doctrine of recycling and reuse and carpooling? Suddenly the work of N’s family so long ago in India and our motivations to share concepts that can positively impact our changing world don‘t seem as different as they once did.

The shiny blue and green globe that we call home continues to shrink...do you feel it too?

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From: 20 Short Pieces from Barcelona

>> July 7, 2010

Because all my other posts are DRAFTS, I am posting these recent writings. Part of several series I wrote - taken from "20 Short Pieces from Barcelona"....



From: 20 Short Pieces from Barcelona


5.)

Walk #1

Sea Rustle (Leaf) walk
Restlessness Walk
Costume Walk

Totem Walk,
Child
Hurricane, Crab Walk

Sleep Walk


Walk #2

Walk on hardened Oceans
Walk - a hard turn right
Walk 2gether Rock 2gether

Walk side - Right side
Sideways Walk
Sidewalk

Side Walk



12.)

Look for Signs

Pointing
Sign (s)
Maps of Shapes
Right
Right with Face
Right, Left
1000 Feet
Cezanne
300 Meters
Pointing
1000 Feet
Right
Gate
Black Gate
A ways Open
Maps
Maps of Shapes
100 Feet
Impressive
Lights
With Greens
Light greens
Maps of Shapes


19.)

Convergences

Convergences
Happen





**** I published less to spare the rest. If you are interested in any of the existing fuller drafts of these 20 Short Pieces; or, if you would like other creative and longer writings - email me


Here is one more - not from Barcelona



Mulate’s Discovery (21)

Discovery
Varying strains
World
Socio-cultural
Labeling
From economic
Fabric



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A Blog for Chris (or, What to Pack for Egypt)

>> July 2, 2010

What to wear in Egypt? As per the general rule for short-term travelers, pack lightly and buy things there. Egypt is predominantly Muslim, so a headscarf will be necessary for visiting the many beautiful mosques. The headscarf may also make you feel more comfortable….all the girls are doing it! In the same cover-up style, most women wear long skirts and long-sleeve shirts. As a foreigner you always get a passcard and people don’t think too much of it when your arms and legs are bare. However, as long as you don’t open your mouth (unless you speak Arabic), and you are wearing longsleeves and long skirt, you can pass for Egyptian….this can sometimes be more comfortable than the oggles and stares. Egyptian girls wear tank tops, but only over lycra long-sleeve shirts.

A month ago, Alexandria was windy and cool. I was happy to have a light sweatshirt and long pants. However, the wind was also a bit sassy and I had a few unexpected ‘Marilyn moments.’

If balloon/Arabian-style pants are all the rage where you live (I have no idea, I‘ve been gone so long), and you love them, there are great ones to buy in Egypt. Cairo is also filled with expansive shoe stores with plenty of greek-style sandals and fancy heels.

If you plan on swimming at the beach, bring a modest suit, or prepare yourself for the dramatic statement you will make. Or you could also buy a very appropriate full-body swimsuit once you arrive.

Consider bringing a floppy hat to beat the heat, especially if you aren’t keen on the headscarf. I found that a scarf tied around my head really helped to block some of the hottest sun rays. Millions of headscarves in all hues and patterns can be found for very cheap all over Cairo.

I functioned quite well in my flip-flops and wore nothing else. But as previously mentioned, you can find some great shoes upon arrival if you find yourself in need of some stilettos or fun sandals.
But really, nothing more specific comes to mind. Bring comfortable stuff, but leave lots of room in your bag for new things you will buy in Cairo! 
Can't wait to see you.

xoxoxo
brittany

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