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Showing posts with label cities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cities. Show all posts

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Acrobats in Red Leotards and Other Images from Montreal

I'm hesitant to write another post, because the dispatch previous to this one is so epic that I can't bear not to have it first on this blog.  But life goes on.

Particularly when the passport is involved.

Chris and Mike said they were going to Montreal for the Fourth of July weekend.  Montreal?  I've never been there before!  It's only 5 hours from Ithaca!  They speak French up there!  And they have poutine.

mmm...  poutine...
I am SO in.

Montreal is a very livable city.  Not sure I'd want to live there, but still a very comfortable, pleasant city to visit, even in the heat and humidity of July.  Coming from a lady who doesn't like cities, that is a RINGING endorsement!

Here's a quick photojournal:

Day One: we walked around Old Montreal, Chinatown, went for a dinner in a fancy French restaurant, and caught some excellent music at the International Jazz Festival.

graffiti, a sleeping bum, and a delicate fresco
mangoes in Chinatown
artist's alley in an old courtyard
fancy dinner
street scene
jazz festival
Day Two:  back to Old Montreal to visit the Basilica, the archaeology museum, and the International Fireworks competition in the evening.

very, very beautiful and ornate architecture
archaeology museum built right over the ruins of the oldest parts of the city
not gonna lie...  ithaca's fireworks were better.
walking home through gay village...  such a cool neighborhood
Day Three:  farmers' market, Kate/ Tim/ Chris join us after the Tough Mudder, and the most amazing random acrobatic show!!

excellent produce at the jean talon market
eating lunch when suddenly street theater was right in front of us!
we followed the acrobats over to to the back side of a Metro station...
...and then to a park...
...and then to one of the best shows I've ever seen.
wow
and wow 
Day Four:  more walking (so. much. walking.), repeat of the Jean Talon market, slacklining in Mt. Royal, and finally home.

view from mt. royal
:o)
Good times!  More images here.  The highlights of the trip...

And I'm oh-so-ready for another adventure.  Sigh.

Monday, April 16, 2012

From Happiness to Flower Bird Under Armed Guard: Alegria to Suchitoto, El Salvador

Gotta keep on the schedule.  Damn, I hate traveling like this.  So many hours here, so many hours there.  The pay-off is worth it:  I'm going to meet up with my honey in Guatemala.  Gotta continue north.

I reluctantly said adios to the cool mountain breezes of Alegría (someone told me that it's the pueblo at the highest altitude in El Salvador) and retraced my steps back down to the Panamerican Highway.

From Alegría to Suchitoto is an easy half-day travel (once I finally left Alegría, it took about 4 hours with easy and fast connections).  If you're thinking of making the same trip, here's what you do:
  • Bus down to Santiago de María, $0.30, ~15 minutes.  Bus doesn't seem to come frequently or on a schedule (I waited about an hour twenty for mine). Make friends with whomever else is waiting.
  • In Santiago de María, walk through the market to the road leading out of town to find the microbus, $0.28, ~25 minutes.
  • In El Triunfo, cross the Panamerican Highway (carefully!!).  Catch any San Salvador-bound bus (I took 301) and tell the driver you want to get off in San Martin. It will take a few hours (2.5ish) and should cost around +/- $3.
  • Important!  You do not need to go all the way into San Salvador to change buses!  The driver should let you off on the Panamerican Highway in San Martin.  Cross the highway using the pedestrian overpass.  Walk toward the west 20 meters until you're past the place where the eastbound travel lanes split--your bus will be going straight, so it will stop farther to the west so it can merge into the left lanes again.  Boarding the bus at the highway means you're more likely to get a seat, before the crush of people board in San Martin proper.
  • From San Martin to Suchitoto, take bus 129 just about 1 hour for $0.70.
Ok, back to Suchitoto.  The name means "flower bird" in the native nahuat language.  It's a sweet little town favored by weekending San Salvadoreans, stuffed to the gills with cobblestones and overlooking Lake Suchitlán.  I stayed at El Gringo, a guesthouse and comedor owned by a long-term ex-pat with a Salvadorean mother and wife.

I met up with a Spaniard and a French guy staying there, and we decided to visit Los Tercios waterfall outside town.  The road leading to Los Tercios goes through some not-great barrios, so El Gringo recommended that we contact the police for an escort.

So that's how I happened to be sitting in the back seat of a Salvadorean cop car when the driver slammed on the brakes for the officer to jump out, grab a 15-year old off the street, frisk him, and yell at him.

Huh?

Apparently, the kid was known to be mixed up with the maras, or gangs, and the cop wanted to "encourage" him to be on his best behavior.  Damn glad that I decided to go with the police and not walk through that barrio on my own.
the spaniard, the french guy, the cop, and a kid from the barrio
Los Tercios was pretty neat, worth the effort to get there.  It's the end of the dry season, so the waterfall wasn't running...  all the better to check out the five-sided basalt rocks stacked like cigarettes in a pack.
los tercios...  minus the water...  neat, eh?
I slipped El Gringo's wife six bucks so she'd let me into her kitchen to make pupusas with her.  This woman is about four foot six and sweet as a plum.  Everyone in town knows she makes the best pupusas, El Gringo tells me.
en la cocina...  who's hungry?!
 My pupusa of frijoles y queso (beans and rice) turns out better than the queso y aguacate (cheese and avocado) or the queso y jalapeño (you can figure it out).
it all tastes good in the end :-)
But I think I've got the general feel, at least well enough that I can subject my friends to my pupusa experiments when I get home!

I didn't love Suchitoto quite as much as I loved Alegría, but I gotta say, El Salvador has wildly exceeded my expectations.  Salvadorans have been really friendly to me.  People on the street are constantly going out of my way to point me on to the correct bus or ask me if I need directions to where I'm going.  I usually don't need the help, but it's a great opportunity to represent the United States abroad and to work on my Spanish.  Compared to the whistles and kisses I've gotten in other countries, Salvadorean men have been surprisingly respectful and polite.  I was squashed between two guys about my age on the bus from El Triunfo to San Matin, and I was expecting harassment and lewd stares the entire time.  Nope--just polite small talk about where I'm from, where I'm going, the weather, and so on.

I really don't know why more people don't visit El Salvador.  That's ok--leave it unspoiled for the rest of us. ;-)

Hats off for El Salvador!
lake suchitlán

More photos from Suchitoto:

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Alegria Means Happiness in Spanish

I concluded our previous episode of the 8 chicken buses as I arrived in Alegría, El Salvador, the Capital Of Happy in Central America (and possibly the world).

I have no idea why some places tug at my heart-strings.  Turkey, in general, and Diyarbakir, specifically, I'm looking at you... but now you've got competition for Most Wonderful Place in the World.

Like Diyarbakir, there's not much going on in Alegría.  Here, I'll show you the main attractions.

There is this mirador, or scenic viewpoint, called Cien Grados (100 steps) within the village.  Ask anyone in town where to find it.
ehh, can't see much, too hazy
 And there's a walk up the north side of Volcán Tecapa along a cobblestone street to view the emerald green, sulfur-infused crater lake, la Laguna de Alegría.  Ask anyone in town how to get there.  Yes, the walk is safe.
nice, i guess
Let's just say that it's not the attractions that bring someone here.  What is it, then?

When I first arrived in the town, I wasn't sure if it was a real Salvadorean village or a movie set.

It was just so clean--hey, over there was a group of young ladies with brooms sweeping up nothing, as far as I could see.
spotless central park
 It was just so picturesque--does this not look like a postcard?
Everyone was just so friendly--when I had pupusas for dinner, the woman behind the griddle laughed at my pupusa enthusiasm and everyone who entered the comedor greeted me and/or wished me a good meal and/or said good night to me, and everyone else in the comedor.
my first pupusas
 I stayed at the Entre Piedras guesthouse, where there was an adorable eensy-weensy puppy dog and a kind older man who insisted that I take one of his hand-made chocolates when I left.
eensy-weensy puppy dog
chocolates hecho a mano
So, was the place real?  Do people actually live and work there?  Or is it just another point on the gringo trail?  The central plaza is charming, but walk a block or two in any direction and Alegría looks more like a typical Central American village and less like a colonial Disneyland.  Walk a few more blocks and leave the village and you're smack-dab in the middle of rural poverty.

But even here in "real" Alegría, interactions with people were universally relaxed, friendly, and outgoing.  On my wanderings a few blocks to a few kilometers away from Alegría, away from the spotless central plaza and the artesanía shops, I found the same warm smiles and universal "buenos días" greetings.  I'm pretty sure I was the only gringa in town that day... maybe that's why everyone was so nice.

Hats off to you, Alegría.  I see from where you get your name...  happiness.  :-)

More photos:

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Turkey, I Love You. Let Me Count The Ways...

Turkey was the first country that I was sorry to leave, the first place I can truly say that I see myself returning some day. I've thought about why I love Turkey so much compared to, say, Nepal. Though I can't come up one significant reason that puts this place above others in my mind, my heart is filled with dozens of small anecdotes, minor details ever so specific to Turkey that, together, have made an unforgettable experience.

blue mosque interior
Turkey, I love you. Let me count the ways...
  • Amazing Architecture (not only the Aya Sofia and the Blue Mosque). An Alphabet I can read (first since Malaysia) helps, too. I think Ayran (a yogurt-based drink) single-handedly healed my stomach issues from Nepal.
  • Bazaars, Baklava, the Blue Mosque, and the Bosphorus. Also, the long-distance Buses are fast, clean, secure, and comfortable. Don't forget Bubby and Boss!
  • Cats: the fluffy, furry, fat cats that are everywhere in Istanbul. Couchsurfing in Turkey has given me some of the best experiences of my trip. And Cheese, lots of tasty tasty cheese! 
  • Diyarbakır, city of my heart. Also Döner, Dave's tasty snack on-the-go for about $0.70. 
  • Ethnic pride, specifically Kurdish of southeast Turkey, stands out in my mind. Turks care for the Environment: we saw no trash or graffiti in Pigeon Valley, and the Bosphorus has little to no trash floating in it. The Eggplant here is the best I've ever had (sorry Mummers). 
  • Friendliness. Smiling Thais? Meh. Friendly Nepalis? Get real. The Turks are masters of friendliness. 
  • Göreme. The very first tourist town that hasn't made me nauseous. Quite a compliment, Göreme. 
  • History is everywhere. I got a new skin in the Hamam. Hygiene is so good that the unthinkable—someone touching my food with their bare hands—does not freak me out. Turkey was Hassle-free compared to the rest of Asia. Even the carpet sellers are laid-back and polite! And don't get me started on Hospitality
  • Istanbul. For a city of 18 million, it's not that bad. 
me and my juice
  • Jetties on the Bosphorus where men bring their fishing rods and I snap dozens of photos. I had my first cup of freshly-squeezed pomegranate Juice
  • Kindness to animals. Unlike the Nepalis who throw rocks at dogs and seem to enjoy it, I noticed multiple acts of kindness toward stray animals.  There were three homeless dogs on a random corner, sleeping in a makeshift cardboard and trash bag shelter someone had made for them. A ripped-open clear plastic bag of leftover meat and pasta was at their side as they slumbered, protected from the drizzle. I can't tell you the number of times I saw burly Turkish men with stern moustaches stop in their tracks to scratch a street kitty under the chin. Our couchsurf host told us that stray dogs in Istanbul are routinely tagged and vaccinated as a public service. The Turks' kindness toward animals is apparent, as strays are uniformly clean, calm, and approachable. Some of the stray cats are even borderline overweight! 
  • Lokum (turkish delight) is ok, not to my taste, but I understand why some love it. I prefer the Language, which is much easier than any South or Southeastern Asian language. 
  • Mosques and Minarets—they're everywhere! And, of course, Mr. Turkish Bull
  • Neckties on men serving tea and cakes on the buses. Seriously. Tea, cakes, and neckties. On buses. I rest my case. 
  • Old people sipping çay in a courtyard. Olives sold by the kilo. 
pide
  • Pomegranates, my favorite fruit. I ate a lot of Pide (turkish pizza), which is quick, cheap, vegetarian friendly, and delicious. Perfect street food! 
  • Quiet, quaint villages. It's SO EASY to get off the beaten tourist trail here. Just go anywhere east of Göreme. 
  • Rumi, the mystical Sufi poet, whose masterwork I hope to read at some point. 
  • Sanlıurfa and it's lovely public and historic spaces. Just in time for winter, steaming cups of Salep (powdered orchid root drink) topped with cinnamon. 
  • Tea! Tea! Tea! Anything and everything is an excuse for çay. And Textiles—if you're into fiber arts, carpets, wool, max out your credit card in Istanbul. 
  • Üsküdar and Uçisar, two Unexpected places that feel Untouristy yet welcoming. 
  • Vegetables. After eating only starch and fat for most of Southeast Asia, I hit Istanbul's fruit and veggie markets hard. It was awesome. 
  • Wi-fi. Finally, and internet connection that is fast and reliable? Whoa! 
  • X is the intersection between "west" and "east," "old" and "new." And it's true. Turkey brings it all together. 
  • Yoğurt. Oh, so this is what yoghurt tastes like without additives, stabilisers, and flavor enhancers. America, yer doin' it wrong. 
  • Zero moments when I questioned my decision to travel or what I was getting from/ giving to the experience. 
To be fair, there were moments when I wasn't feeling so keen on Turkey. Four out of five days in Istanbul brought nasty, cold, damp weather. I was hardly in the mood to wander around random neighborhoods, and there isn't much nature in the city. I regretted giving five whole days to wandering around Istanbul and wished I had spent a day or two in another city, perhaps Konya.

A few other less-than-perfect points:
  • Overnight bus rides (though, admittedly, those have been my choice); 
  • Getting lost (though someone has always offered to help us become un-lost); 
  • Some people have been over-zealous in sharing/ pushing their Muslim faith; 
  • Food and accomodation in touristy areas is expensive and poor value (i.e. you don't get much for the cost); 
  • Google Voice doesn't work; 
  • I wasn't able to download NPR podcasts. 
If I'm whining about missing NPR instead of missing clean drinking water, then I guess I don't have much to whine about.

Three cheers for Turkey!

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Father Abraham (In a Purple Headscarf?)

After Mr. Turkish Bull got our stupid, foreign asses onto the right bus, we found ourselves in the middle of Şanlıurfa. On a whim, I dragged Dave into a bookstore, where I scored a pocket Turkish/ English dictionary for 3 lira.

This came in handy, as shortly thereafter we were mobbed by a dozen young boys who would be our friends for the afternoon. Twelve-year old Mahmut somehow had a Turkish/ English phrasebook with him, so we swapped phrases such as, "I hope you have a safe journey" and "How many children do you have?"

little mahmut in the white shirt next to dave
The boys decided to take us to "Fish Lake." As the legend goes, King Nimrod got really pissed off at Abraham and threw him into a fire. God/ Allah was all like, "Oh no you don't," and He turned the flames into water and the coals into carp. The fish in this pond are huge, glossy, and very excited to eat the pellet food sold by vendors in the park.

"fish lake" at dusk
The next day, we made a pilgrimage to the cave where Prophet Ibrahim/ Patriarch Abraham supposedly was born. The sign next to the door noted the segregated sides for men and women and requested that women to wear long skirts and headscarves (and to refrain from taking photos during prayer). Fortunately, I happened to wear my long skirt and to have a scarf in my bag.

entrance to ibrahim's/ abraham's cave
I don't think I would have taken any pictures, anyway. The mood inside the cave is pretty intense. Women swathed in the purple headscarves typical of Şanlıurfa sat on carpet squares in tight rows, either praying or sitting quietly. One woman was reading a beautiful Arabic Quran. Some women were filling up cups or bottles with holy water from a spigot. A little boy ran around, occasionally shrieking. One woman was crying.

It blew my mind to think that Abraham was born here, oh, plus or minus 4,000 years ago. And this city has been continuously inhabited for nearly 6,000 years! Even the historical Buddha was born "only" 2,500 years ago. Such history! And how lucky I am to have visited so many sacred places this year. Too bad Christians, Muslims, and Jews seem to forget that they are all children of Abraham...

urfa's citadel
After visiting Abraham's cave, we climbed to the top of the Şanlıurfa kale, or citadel, to enjoy the great views of the city. Highly recommended, it was a lovely little walk.

other tourists at the top
Şanlıurfa fashion is... distinctive. Many women wear traditional clothing: a velvet, floor length dress with a leather belt, a velvet cloak, and then another light brown cape. It reminds me of medieval dress. Both men and women wear purple headscarves, apparently all the rage this year. But there are also many women who wear trendy long skirts and snazzy, urbane long jackets.  This is Turkey: part West, part East, part modern, part traditional.

women in typical urfa dress
How could I resist? My lone Turkey souvenir is a trendy purple Urfa headscarf.

this picture destroys any chance at holding public office in the united states.
(i'm not sure i'm disappointed.)
but isn't it a pretty color?
Did Father Abraham wear a purple scarf?  I guess we'll never know...

Friday, August 20, 2010

Malaysia? What's in Malaysia?

Written September 22, 2010

I'll be honest:  the reason I ended up in Malaysia was because of a cheap flight.  Denpasar, Bali to Kuala Lumpur for about 100 greenbacks.  I needed to leave before my visa ran out, so I figured, "Why not?"

Malaysia was an interesting place.  Just like Singapore is the most un-Southeast Asian city in Southeast Asia, Malaysia is the most un-Southeast Asian country in Southeast Asia.

The standard of living is quite high; Wikipedia tells me that the per capita GDP is roughly USD$14,800, the only country in SE Asia to beat the global average of USD$10,500 (except Brunei, which beats even the United States).  And you can tell it's wealthy, too.  The public transit is clean, efficient, and relatively expensive.  People are well-educated; most speak at least two languages, as English is a compulsory subject in schools.  While I did see some people living on the streets in Kuala Lumpur, the city felt just as modern and clean as Singapore.

Malaysians are an interesting ethnic blend of Malay, Chinese, and Indian.  So even though Malaysia is an Islamic country, defined as such by the Malaysian constitution, there are significant minorities of Buddhists (~19%), Christians (~9%), and Hindus (~6%).  We were in Malaysia for the start of Ramadan, but it didn't affect our travel plans at all.  We simply ate in Indian or Chinese restaurants for breakfast and lunch.

We spent our time in three places:  Kuala Lumpur, Taman Negara National Park, and the Cameron Highlands.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Sweating in Singapore

Our flight left Darwin nearly three hours late, so we arrived at Singapore's Changi International Airport long after the trains to the city stopped running. Since the cost of a taxi was about one day's budget for Indonesia, we wisely decided to take advantage of the free wi-fi, air-conditioning, and spotless floors by sleeping in the airport.

zzzzzzzz...

We wanted to chill out in Singapore, so we didn't attempt to arrange a couchsurf host. We walked around Little India the first day and Orchard Street the second day. We skipped the tourist attractions, like Sentosa Island, and I don't feel like I missed out on anything. Otherwise, we slept, caught up on email, tried new foods, and Dave played pick-up ultimate frisbee one evening.

little india streetscape

Impressions of Singapore: it's clean, orderly, logical, hot, well-planned, hot, a melting pot of ethnicities, surprisingly easy for English-speakers, hot, wealthy, and hot. I've read that it has the highest quality of life in Asia, and 11th highest in the world.  Singapore is right at the equator, which means it's 80-90 degrees year 'round. Fortunately, air conditioned spots are easy to find.  Read the Wikipedia article for more basic information about Singapore.

super orderly public transport even tells you how to board and alight from the MRT

My favorite memory of Singapore is the awesome availability of fresh, cold juices and drinks, especially sugar cane juice.

sugar cane juice on the left; glass jelly juice on the right

I also tried mee goreng and laksa. I thought both were typically Singaporean, but I've seen "mie goreng" everywhere in Indonesia, so maybe not. Mee goreng is rice vermicelli noodles in a spicy sauce. Laksa is a spicy soup of noodles, tofu, and rice cake.

laksa:  this is delicious

Photo Journal:


Some recommendations if you plan to visit Singapore:

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Outback Adventures

We spent our first full night in the Northern Territories aboard Inti... a yacht! We met Rob in virtual reality through Couchsurfing. He invited us to spend a night in his home, which happens to be a boat. We talked about life as nomads, philosophy, politics, economics, and all the other things that make the world go 'round. I feel like I met a kindred spirit in Rob. It was inspirational to meet someone who has lived according to his own vision and values well past the age when certain pressures to "grow up" subdue even the most dedicated idealist. Rob, you have a home wherever we are, and I look forward to the day when our paths cross again!


Darwin turned out to be much more expensive and crowded than we anticipated, as we didn't realize it was peak tourist season (one potential downside to showing up in places randomly). We tried one night in a hostel, but even though we didn't arrive until 3:00 a.m, still I barely slept. So, it's back to sleeping outside! We rented a "ute," or a utility vehicle, actually a small pick-up truck, for only a few more dollars per day than a hostel booking for two. Grabbed a canister of butane for the camp stove and a mosquito net and it was back to nights with nothing but clouds between my closed eyelids and the universe.

(Side note: we obtained two camping mattresses via legal but dubious means. The first night we used them, we spent +/- 3 hours determining whether they were infested with bedbugs via careful application of the scientific method. No, not kidding. Verdict: no bedbugs!)


We spent a few days wandering around Litchfield National Park, which was crowded with mostly Aussie vacationers. Memories... every night, there was a very bright object in the sky, perhaps a planet. One night after dinner, a teeny tiny frog hopped up my skirt and landed on my thigh. Once I was done screaming and hopping around like a frog myself, that was pretty funny. Wild cockatoos are enchanting and goofy. It was so hot that everything slowed to a crawl: my thoughts wandered out of my brain, my feet simply refused to get a move on.


The most memorable tourist attraction in the park was a non-tourist attraction. It wasn't on any map. We stopped to explore some interesting rocks. They reminded me of some sort of ruins, the way they were stacked up in the middle of an otherwise flat, dry landscape. Clumps of grass switched at my calves as I tiptoed around, putting footprints in sand that hasn't seen human feet in a long, long time. One potential upside to showing up in places randomly, I'd say.


On the way back to Darwin, we stopped at Territory Wildlife Park, sponsored by Northern Territory government and featuring only species native to the region. This was the single touristy thing we did, and I'm happy with that. Highlights for me were the wedge-tailed eagle, the "saltie" or saltwater crocodile, and the rock wallabies.





On our last night in Darwin, we drove out to what we expected would be a quiet, dark, deserted park. Imagine my curiosity when a group of flashlight-weilding, rubber-glove-wearing, plastic-bag toting adults and children started wandering around the truck! I approached one of the kids, Brandon, who eagerly explained that they were searching for cane toads to grind into mulch.

What?!

Turns out cane toads are a non-native pest animal here, interfering with hermit crab populations, like possums and stoats interfere with bird populations in New Zealand. "Do you wanna join me? Please?" little Brandon asked. As if he had to ask! Dave got a pair of rubber gloves to protect his hands from the skin irritants in the toads' warts and I got a plastic bag. Brandon entertained us with his stealthy yet showy ninja toad catching moves as we wandered around the park. And thus we caught toads until it was time for bed.


Photo journal:


Here are a few suggestions for Darwin and Northern Territory: