Gwen is packing! I am so sad! The group who she was working for bought her a plane ticket that was a little earlier than we would have liked... i leave Monday.
We've had a beautiful tropical time in Cartagena and have drank a lot of different fruit jiuces (and ate a lot of tropical fruit gelato). Yesterday we went out to Playa Blanca, an island with a gorgeous, picture perfect Caribbean beach, where we lay around and had fresh fish and shrimp and coconut rice for lunch. That night we went out eating and drinking and dancing in the Gethsemani neighborhood... a grittier and hipper place than the beautifully manicured old city. First, ceviche on a rooftop in a little restaurant run by two young sisters, then stuffed calamari at a very hip place called the Bazurto Social Club. Then some salsa at Cafe Havana. Then back to Bazurto for some reggaton/cumbia/everything else fusion performed by the most handsome band in the world (I am not kidding) and then back to Havana for a final mojito (with Cuban rum) and one more turn on the dance floor with old tipsy salsa-ing men!
This morning we slept in and then did a little sight-seeing, but spent more time drinking juice and talking to people like Mara, who sold us some fresh coconut water and with whom we had a great conversation about poverty, justice, the US, Colombia... Also saw a very powerful exhibit of masks made by women who were displaced during "the Violence" and spoke with the women who runs the center that works with them, A good reminder that underneath the beauty and the hospitality and the dancing, Colombia is still struggling mightily with past and ongoing problems.
I'll be back on Monday night. Sigh. I highly recommend a trip to Colombia to all... this is a special place.
m
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
more mountains, then tropics
Gwen and I are about to head out to have a sunset drink on top of the city walls of Cartagena. This city is colorful and hot and a great place to finish up. We are now officially on a relaxing vacation, as opposed to an adventure vacation....
But what an adventure it was. Briefly (because tropical drinks are needed soon!) we went from Manizales to Salento on Sunday. Salento is a little town near the Valle de Corcora. Just lovely. We stayed at a hostel a short walk out of town... a gorgeous spot and very friendly and relaxing. Lots of chilled out backpackers. After a nice evening in Salento on Sunday, shopping and eating trout (the specialty of the town), we woke to more rain on Monday. But it cleared up (as it does) and after some more time in town drinking coffee (it is the coffee growing region, after all) we went on a tour of a little coffee farm. Don Elias led the tour, and it was like the grandpa of Juan Valdez had come to life...
The next day we set off in the morning with half of the other backpackers in town for a walk in the Valle de Corcora... and incredible landscape of pea green mountains covered with wax palm trees. However, we managed to go left when everyone else went right, and instead of a leisurely walk through the valley, we climbed a mountain. With several other lost people. This is a tale I will tell you all at some point over drinks, because it was a fantastic adventure, but long story short, Gwen and I ended up spending the night in the very cold and basic but welcoming cattle finca (farm) of a man named Javier and his son Lucho. We were way the heck up there, and it was incredible. The next morning, Javier used his cell phone (no electricity but they did have a cell phone) to call a guy to come two hours up the mountain with some horses and we rode down. Those mountain horses are incredible! Took us 2 hours down. Took us 7 hours walking up!
We missed our 3;30 flight to Cartagena, but managed to make it onto a 5:45 flight... still unwashed and covered with finca dirt! Arrvied in Cartagena at 9pm last night, spent the first night in a pretty basic hostel in Gethsamani, and then moved to our fancy boutique hotel, the Casa Hortensia. I got a great deal on the internet, and it is like having our own little colonial house... but with a pool. We ate ceviche for lunch across the street at a plce that was on Athony Bourdain's show. And now those drinks are calling...
I can't believe I am sitting here in a sundress in beautiful Cartagena, when 48 hours ago I was huddled under a pile of blankets, covered in mud, trying to get warm in front of the finca's wood burning stove. And that's one of the reaons why I love to travel...
But what an adventure it was. Briefly (because tropical drinks are needed soon!) we went from Manizales to Salento on Sunday. Salento is a little town near the Valle de Corcora. Just lovely. We stayed at a hostel a short walk out of town... a gorgeous spot and very friendly and relaxing. Lots of chilled out backpackers. After a nice evening in Salento on Sunday, shopping and eating trout (the specialty of the town), we woke to more rain on Monday. But it cleared up (as it does) and after some more time in town drinking coffee (it is the coffee growing region, after all) we went on a tour of a little coffee farm. Don Elias led the tour, and it was like the grandpa of Juan Valdez had come to life...
The next day we set off in the morning with half of the other backpackers in town for a walk in the Valle de Corcora... and incredible landscape of pea green mountains covered with wax palm trees. However, we managed to go left when everyone else went right, and instead of a leisurely walk through the valley, we climbed a mountain. With several other lost people. This is a tale I will tell you all at some point over drinks, because it was a fantastic adventure, but long story short, Gwen and I ended up spending the night in the very cold and basic but welcoming cattle finca (farm) of a man named Javier and his son Lucho. We were way the heck up there, and it was incredible. The next morning, Javier used his cell phone (no electricity but they did have a cell phone) to call a guy to come two hours up the mountain with some horses and we rode down. Those mountain horses are incredible! Took us 2 hours down. Took us 7 hours walking up!
We missed our 3;30 flight to Cartagena, but managed to make it onto a 5:45 flight... still unwashed and covered with finca dirt! Arrvied in Cartagena at 9pm last night, spent the first night in a pretty basic hostel in Gethsamani, and then moved to our fancy boutique hotel, the Casa Hortensia. I got a great deal on the internet, and it is like having our own little colonial house... but with a pool. We ate ceviche for lunch across the street at a plce that was on Athony Bourdain's show. And now those drinks are calling...
I can't believe I am sitting here in a sundress in beautiful Cartagena, when 48 hours ago I was huddled under a pile of blankets, covered in mud, trying to get warm in front of the finca's wood burning stove. And that's one of the reaons why I love to travel...
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Tropics in the mountains
So I left Bogota on Wednesday morning... sad to leave the very hospitable folks at my hostel and the very interesting city, but excited to move on... first to Honda for the night, and then on to Manizales to meet Gwen.
Getting a ticket for the bus at the main bus terminal was easy as could be, except I ended up on Rapido Tolimas, which I later found out is not the best bus company! I was on a "buseta" which is a little bus, and as opposed to the very comfortable and modern big buses I had heard about, this one was very old, dirty, crowded... much more interesting, if less relaxing! Getting out of Bogota took forever, as the city sprawls and the buseta kept stopping to pick up passengers anywhere they could. But suddenly, it seemed, there were cows and fields, and after a bit we climbed up into the hills. (Beautiful, though not as beautiful as the next day.) And then we climbed back down onto the plain, where it got hot and sunny and tropical. Finally we got to Mariquita, a nice little town, where I was husted off to the bus to change to another one for the half hour trip to Honda (along with one or two other people who were Honda bound, as the bus was continuing on the Manizales). And then I got to Honda, got a cab to the Casa Belle Epoque, my fancier than usual hotel.
Lovely old colonial building, large room (I got upgraded) in the courtyard by the tiny but welcoming pool. A hammock and a jacuzzi and couches and antiques and oddities on the open second floor and a great crow's nest with a view of the town.
The owner, Luis Enrique, who spoke English, walked me down to the main square so I could buy some empanadas and then I returned to the hotel to eat, take a swim, and sit and read and relax, and watch the sunset from the crow's nest. Honda is a colonial town on the Magdelena River, which is like Colombia's Mississippi. During the colonial times and up into the 20th century it was the main source of transport of people and goods from the Caribbean port of Baranquilla to the Bogota area - it was the de facto port of Bogota, though it is still a good distance (6 hours by buseta!) away. First dugout canoes and later steamboats made the journey, until roads, airplanes, and the narrowing and loss of depth of the river ended Honda's glory years. Now it is sleepy and tropical and pretty, and a great place to pass a night.
That evening, Luis Enrique took me and an older German couple who were the other guests at the Belle Epoque down to the river for dinner. It is high season for fishing and so the fisherman were still working at night, casting their nets from dugout canoes in the very rapidly flowing water. We had fried catfish at a restaurant overlooking the river and chatted and watched the fishing. A very pleasant evening...
The next morning, unfortunately, it was raining! (It is rainy season, after all.) I was planning on getting up early and seeing the sights before it got hot, and then taking another swim before leaving around 2. Instead, I had a leisurely breakfast and then once the covered market opened and the rain had subsided a little, I headed out... The market was great - met lots of interesting people and took lots of photos, and my walk around the cobblestoned streets of town was very pleasant and pretty. And it was warm, if not sunny...
Luis Enrique drove me to the bus stand around 2, where I got a bus to Mariquita since more buses to Manizales would pas through there. But in Mariquita I was lucky enough to get a shared taxi instead! I had the front seat, and a very funny and careful driver, and 3 nice people in the back. And the drive to Manizales, which took about 4 hours, was so so gorgeous. The mountains were amazing and we had some stunning views of Los Nevados, the snow-capped mountains/volcanoes, in the distance. Stopped at a rest stop where I had a "cuca" which was a big brown cookies which tasted almost exactly like lebkuchen, the German cookie, and since a lot of Germans settled in this area, I think it might actually be a lebkuchen!
Also got stopped at a police checkpoint (there was a military checkpoint the previous day on the buseta, where all the men had to get out of the bus and be patted down). But unlike the military checkpoint, the police checkpoint seemed to exist to get bribes from divers. When our driver was asked to get out, he put a 5000 peso bill in his hand (about $3) and muttered "I'm not giving them more than 5000" and then had to show his papers, do a drunk driving test, got into the station, and finally came back. We drove away and he exclaimed, "In Colombia we don't have deliquents. We have those guys!"
The driver ended up taking me all the way to where Gwen is staying. I wish we needed a driver because he would be my pick in Manizales!
The next day in Manizales, Gwen had a workshop in the morning. I got up and the "senora de casa" (ie, housekeeper) Luz made me breakfast. Fresh juice, fresh pineapple, a fried egg with lots and lots of butter, and melba toast (which Luz encouraged me to cover with butter). Then met Clemencia, the woman whose house it is; lovely older lady who is a real estate hot shot and whose husband Olver is a cardiologist. Their apartment reminds me so much of apartments in Rome when I was a child... and they remind me of Romans.
Then I got a cab to the Centro Columbo Americano, where Gwen is working. She was finishing up her workshop... met Clara, the director of the center, and then we went and had some coffee and pastry at a nearby cafe, and took a little walk around the hilly and cafe-filled neighborhood, and then hopped in a cab to go to the cathedral downtown.
Manizales is just stunning. It seems like an excellent city to live in... it sits up on a ridge and is surrounded by green, green mountains on every side, and though it rains quite a bit, the rain cleans the air and keeps the temperature mild through the year. (lows in the 50s, highs in the 70s) Gwen and I looked around the cathedral and then she went back to the Centro for another workshop, and I wandered around. Hung out in a little square and made friends with the old men who were also hanging out... took a look inside a mall, complete with Chinese food in the food court (lumpias instead of egg rolls... hmmmmm) and then took a ride on the amazing cable car which takes people in little cars from the center (on the top of the ridge) down to the bus station. So much fun... great views... floating over the city. And then walked back to Clemencia's house.
That evening, Clara took us out to dinner (along with Clemencia and Olver, old friends of hers, and her husband, and Elsa and Lena, two other employees of the Centro) at the Manizales Club, an institution in the downtown! Beautiful private club... very old school... delicious food, but with not a vegetable (except for potatoes) in sight! I want some spinach!!!
Today, took it pretty easy, doing a little shopping, strolling around the neighborhood, etc. Now we are trying to figure out plans for the evening... it might include theatre, might include dancing, but will certainly include a drink at a little bar around the corner filled with bull-fighting memorabilia!
m
Getting a ticket for the bus at the main bus terminal was easy as could be, except I ended up on Rapido Tolimas, which I later found out is not the best bus company! I was on a "buseta" which is a little bus, and as opposed to the very comfortable and modern big buses I had heard about, this one was very old, dirty, crowded... much more interesting, if less relaxing! Getting out of Bogota took forever, as the city sprawls and the buseta kept stopping to pick up passengers anywhere they could. But suddenly, it seemed, there were cows and fields, and after a bit we climbed up into the hills. (Beautiful, though not as beautiful as the next day.) And then we climbed back down onto the plain, where it got hot and sunny and tropical. Finally we got to Mariquita, a nice little town, where I was husted off to the bus to change to another one for the half hour trip to Honda (along with one or two other people who were Honda bound, as the bus was continuing on the Manizales). And then I got to Honda, got a cab to the Casa Belle Epoque, my fancier than usual hotel.
Lovely old colonial building, large room (I got upgraded) in the courtyard by the tiny but welcoming pool. A hammock and a jacuzzi and couches and antiques and oddities on the open second floor and a great crow's nest with a view of the town.
The owner, Luis Enrique, who spoke English, walked me down to the main square so I could buy some empanadas and then I returned to the hotel to eat, take a swim, and sit and read and relax, and watch the sunset from the crow's nest. Honda is a colonial town on the Magdelena River, which is like Colombia's Mississippi. During the colonial times and up into the 20th century it was the main source of transport of people and goods from the Caribbean port of Baranquilla to the Bogota area - it was the de facto port of Bogota, though it is still a good distance (6 hours by buseta!) away. First dugout canoes and later steamboats made the journey, until roads, airplanes, and the narrowing and loss of depth of the river ended Honda's glory years. Now it is sleepy and tropical and pretty, and a great place to pass a night.
That evening, Luis Enrique took me and an older German couple who were the other guests at the Belle Epoque down to the river for dinner. It is high season for fishing and so the fisherman were still working at night, casting their nets from dugout canoes in the very rapidly flowing water. We had fried catfish at a restaurant overlooking the river and chatted and watched the fishing. A very pleasant evening...
The next morning, unfortunately, it was raining! (It is rainy season, after all.) I was planning on getting up early and seeing the sights before it got hot, and then taking another swim before leaving around 2. Instead, I had a leisurely breakfast and then once the covered market opened and the rain had subsided a little, I headed out... The market was great - met lots of interesting people and took lots of photos, and my walk around the cobblestoned streets of town was very pleasant and pretty. And it was warm, if not sunny...
Luis Enrique drove me to the bus stand around 2, where I got a bus to Mariquita since more buses to Manizales would pas through there. But in Mariquita I was lucky enough to get a shared taxi instead! I had the front seat, and a very funny and careful driver, and 3 nice people in the back. And the drive to Manizales, which took about 4 hours, was so so gorgeous. The mountains were amazing and we had some stunning views of Los Nevados, the snow-capped mountains/volcanoes, in the distance. Stopped at a rest stop where I had a "cuca" which was a big brown cookies which tasted almost exactly like lebkuchen, the German cookie, and since a lot of Germans settled in this area, I think it might actually be a lebkuchen!
Also got stopped at a police checkpoint (there was a military checkpoint the previous day on the buseta, where all the men had to get out of the bus and be patted down). But unlike the military checkpoint, the police checkpoint seemed to exist to get bribes from divers. When our driver was asked to get out, he put a 5000 peso bill in his hand (about $3) and muttered "I'm not giving them more than 5000" and then had to show his papers, do a drunk driving test, got into the station, and finally came back. We drove away and he exclaimed, "In Colombia we don't have deliquents. We have those guys!"
The driver ended up taking me all the way to where Gwen is staying. I wish we needed a driver because he would be my pick in Manizales!
The next day in Manizales, Gwen had a workshop in the morning. I got up and the "senora de casa" (ie, housekeeper) Luz made me breakfast. Fresh juice, fresh pineapple, a fried egg with lots and lots of butter, and melba toast (which Luz encouraged me to cover with butter). Then met Clemencia, the woman whose house it is; lovely older lady who is a real estate hot shot and whose husband Olver is a cardiologist. Their apartment reminds me so much of apartments in Rome when I was a child... and they remind me of Romans.
Then I got a cab to the Centro Columbo Americano, where Gwen is working. She was finishing up her workshop... met Clara, the director of the center, and then we went and had some coffee and pastry at a nearby cafe, and took a little walk around the hilly and cafe-filled neighborhood, and then hopped in a cab to go to the cathedral downtown.
Manizales is just stunning. It seems like an excellent city to live in... it sits up on a ridge and is surrounded by green, green mountains on every side, and though it rains quite a bit, the rain cleans the air and keeps the temperature mild through the year. (lows in the 50s, highs in the 70s) Gwen and I looked around the cathedral and then she went back to the Centro for another workshop, and I wandered around. Hung out in a little square and made friends with the old men who were also hanging out... took a look inside a mall, complete with Chinese food in the food court (lumpias instead of egg rolls... hmmmmm) and then took a ride on the amazing cable car which takes people in little cars from the center (on the top of the ridge) down to the bus station. So much fun... great views... floating over the city. And then walked back to Clemencia's house.
That evening, Clara took us out to dinner (along with Clemencia and Olver, old friends of hers, and her husband, and Elsa and Lena, two other employees of the Centro) at the Manizales Club, an institution in the downtown! Beautiful private club... very old school... delicious food, but with not a vegetable (except for potatoes) in sight! I want some spinach!!!
Today, took it pretty easy, doing a little shopping, strolling around the neighborhood, etc. Now we are trying to figure out plans for the evening... it might include theatre, might include dancing, but will certainly include a drink at a little bar around the corner filled with bull-fighting memorabilia!
m
Friday, March 23, 2012
Hunger striker, indigenous healer, lots of fruit... and North Bogota
I got to Manizales yesterday evening after a really beautiful afternoon's drive through the mountains. Gwen was there to meet me at the lovely house she is staying in - she has a lovely little rooftop suite that belongs to a very nice family (who have a very nice housekeeper who cooked me up breakfast this morning). I took a shower and then we headed out to see a play with some of the friends she has met here. (She has been teaching combination theatre and English workshops to numerous schools and theatre companies for the past 3 weeks.)
The show was one woman and all in Spanish, and neither of us got much of it, but afterwards we had a great time with the cast and crew hanging out on the back terrace of their theatre, drinking local rum and talking art, politics, and tongue twisters. The view was amazing from the terrace, but every view in Manizales is amazing. The city, which is incredibly clean and prosperous, is nestled among the mountains and manages to feel surrounded by the mountains but full of open spaces just the same.
The past days have been just as good as the first ones...
It rained on Monday, and it was also a national holiday, so many things were closed and many things were too wet to enjoy. But the fact that there wasn't much to rush around to meant that some special things could occur...
First stop was the Botero Museum. It was one of the best museums I have ever been to. Botero himself donated both his own paintings and works from his collection (a couple of Picassos, some Calders...) and he arranged the paintings. I had seen his work before, but standing in front of them I found them so very moving. So human. Funny and sad at the same time.
The Botero Museum is part of complex that also contains a museum on the history of money and coins in Colombia (not that interesting to me, though well presented) and some other galleries with art ranging from colonial times to the present day, There was a mindblowing black and white photo series of feet and legs, with maps written on them. The legs belong to people who were displaced during "the violence" and the maps are of their journeys and what happned to them along the way (crossed mountains, massacres, car bomb, etc.).
Had a "chocolato completo" (bread, hot chocolate and a chunk of soft white cheese that you melt in the hot chocolate) at a Bogota institution called La Puerta Falsa, and then a coffee at Juan Valdez (yes, Juan Valdez), the Colombian Starbucks, at the Gabriel Garcia Marquez Center, where you could sit outside covered from the rain and watch people slosh by. And then I went down to the Plaza Bolivar to visit Alejandro, the man who is on a hunger strike to start a dialogue about peace. He invited me into his tent, and I accepted, and we sat in there taking shelter from the rain and talking for over an hour. People would come by to talk every so often (including MexTel, who was looking for me... but didn't stay for too long because he spotted another tourist to talk to). But Alejandro is in need of someone to manage his campaign... anyone know a community organizer in Bogota? He is a pretty amazing person...
At one point a man dressed in indigenous clothing came by with a girl and gave Alejandro some coca leaves. They are helping him get through the hunger strike; he gave a few to me to chew. They do give one a lift (and are legal in Colombia... they are not cocaine... cocaine is a derivative of the leaves) that was pleasant and did not make me as jittery as drinking too much coffee.
So after I left Alejandro, I ran into the coca leaf man and his girlfriend. His name is Sek and she is Marisol. He didn't speak English, and so he called his roommate, a German professor who speaks English and we made plans to meet at Plaza Bolivar at 5pm.
And that's what we did. His roommate James was a funny, awkward, geeky science guy. Sek is a Nasa (or Paez) Indian who is the first person to be employed by the Universidad de los Andes as an advisor on bringing traditional indigenous philosophy, healing and spirituality into play in the university's curriculum. He was really an amazing guy! We went back to their apartment near the univeristy (which is near my hostel) where we had tea and Sek explained the Nasa cosmology to me, how they use coca leaves for spiritual purposes, etc... He also is an artist and showed me one of his paintings; he uses all natural pigments from the earth and often leaves his work outside in the elements in order to have them transform and influence the work.
So it was a day of meeting two very interesting men. Glad it rained!
The next day, it was also overcast but I decided to take the cable car up to the top of Montserrate, the hill and church that overlook the city, anyway. Because going to the top of Montserrate is the sort of thing that tourists are expected to do... The church is not very interesting, and all your could see were clouds once you were at the top, but the cable car ride was fun, and after I was up there for about a half an hour, the sky cleared and you could see the huge expanse of Bogota. Which goes on and on and on!
After stopped by a photo exhibit at the Univesidad de los Andes (the Vargas Brothers, who took photos in a provincial city in Peru in the first part of the 20th century; http://camara-de-maravillas.blogspot.com/2010/02/estudio-de-fotografia-los-hermanos.html) I got a cab to Paloquemao, a huge fruit and vegetable and meat and many other things market about a half an hour from the center of town. Really interesting... once again, so many fruits that I have never seen before! Bought some Colombian passion fruit and some mangosteens. Then got a cab to the Museo de Oro, which is a really beautiful and relatively new museum about the history of Colombia's indigenous people told through the motif of their use of gold.
And then hopped in another cab and headed up to North Bogota, near the Zona Rosa, to meet up with my friends Thaddeus and Tatiana. North Bogota is like another world. It is the new part of town, where well-off people live, and where all the real action is. Thaddeus and Tati have a great little apartment on a quiet street right near a beautiful park and lots of restaurants and shops. We went to a special supermarket that just sells fruit and vegetables (Alex Moede! This one's for you!). The great thing about that place was that they have labels on everything, so I was able to take photos with the names of the fruit attached! Bought some more fruit... a feijoa, a something costeno, and one other...
Then we went to take a look at Andres DC, an over-the-top story restaurant that is the Bogota version of a place called Andres Carne de Res, a place out in the countryside that is an institution. It's hard to describe... they have actors who do little skits, and live music, and eclectic decor, and apparently great food. We went to eat at Andres' new place - Plaza de Andres - which is a food court. This was great becaues we could choose a bunch of different things. And I really had not been having great food... filling, yes, but not too flavourful. But what we had was really delicious. Arepa de choclo - a sweet arepa stuffed with cheese - and a steak and an assortment of chorizo and these little papas criollas - baby potatoes that were delicious. And juices... Tati had a combination of passionfruit and blackberry in milk, I think I had feijoa, and Thaddeus... lulo?
It was great to see them and their side of Bogota. Bid goodbye, got a cab back to the old part of town, and packed... Sad to leave Bogota, but happy to start exploring other parts...
We are going out soon to dinner with Gwen's hosts and the organizer of the program she is working at... so more later...
x m
The show was one woman and all in Spanish, and neither of us got much of it, but afterwards we had a great time with the cast and crew hanging out on the back terrace of their theatre, drinking local rum and talking art, politics, and tongue twisters. The view was amazing from the terrace, but every view in Manizales is amazing. The city, which is incredibly clean and prosperous, is nestled among the mountains and manages to feel surrounded by the mountains but full of open spaces just the same.
The past days have been just as good as the first ones...
It rained on Monday, and it was also a national holiday, so many things were closed and many things were too wet to enjoy. But the fact that there wasn't much to rush around to meant that some special things could occur...
First stop was the Botero Museum. It was one of the best museums I have ever been to. Botero himself donated both his own paintings and works from his collection (a couple of Picassos, some Calders...) and he arranged the paintings. I had seen his work before, but standing in front of them I found them so very moving. So human. Funny and sad at the same time.
The Botero Museum is part of complex that also contains a museum on the history of money and coins in Colombia (not that interesting to me, though well presented) and some other galleries with art ranging from colonial times to the present day, There was a mindblowing black and white photo series of feet and legs, with maps written on them. The legs belong to people who were displaced during "the violence" and the maps are of their journeys and what happned to them along the way (crossed mountains, massacres, car bomb, etc.).
Had a "chocolato completo" (bread, hot chocolate and a chunk of soft white cheese that you melt in the hot chocolate) at a Bogota institution called La Puerta Falsa, and then a coffee at Juan Valdez (yes, Juan Valdez), the Colombian Starbucks, at the Gabriel Garcia Marquez Center, where you could sit outside covered from the rain and watch people slosh by. And then I went down to the Plaza Bolivar to visit Alejandro, the man who is on a hunger strike to start a dialogue about peace. He invited me into his tent, and I accepted, and we sat in there taking shelter from the rain and talking for over an hour. People would come by to talk every so often (including MexTel, who was looking for me... but didn't stay for too long because he spotted another tourist to talk to). But Alejandro is in need of someone to manage his campaign... anyone know a community organizer in Bogota? He is a pretty amazing person...
At one point a man dressed in indigenous clothing came by with a girl and gave Alejandro some coca leaves. They are helping him get through the hunger strike; he gave a few to me to chew. They do give one a lift (and are legal in Colombia... they are not cocaine... cocaine is a derivative of the leaves) that was pleasant and did not make me as jittery as drinking too much coffee.
So after I left Alejandro, I ran into the coca leaf man and his girlfriend. His name is Sek and she is Marisol. He didn't speak English, and so he called his roommate, a German professor who speaks English and we made plans to meet at Plaza Bolivar at 5pm.
And that's what we did. His roommate James was a funny, awkward, geeky science guy. Sek is a Nasa (or Paez) Indian who is the first person to be employed by the Universidad de los Andes as an advisor on bringing traditional indigenous philosophy, healing and spirituality into play in the university's curriculum. He was really an amazing guy! We went back to their apartment near the univeristy (which is near my hostel) where we had tea and Sek explained the Nasa cosmology to me, how they use coca leaves for spiritual purposes, etc... He also is an artist and showed me one of his paintings; he uses all natural pigments from the earth and often leaves his work outside in the elements in order to have them transform and influence the work.
So it was a day of meeting two very interesting men. Glad it rained!
The next day, it was also overcast but I decided to take the cable car up to the top of Montserrate, the hill and church that overlook the city, anyway. Because going to the top of Montserrate is the sort of thing that tourists are expected to do... The church is not very interesting, and all your could see were clouds once you were at the top, but the cable car ride was fun, and after I was up there for about a half an hour, the sky cleared and you could see the huge expanse of Bogota. Which goes on and on and on!
After stopped by a photo exhibit at the Univesidad de los Andes (the Vargas Brothers, who took photos in a provincial city in Peru in the first part of the 20th century; http://camara-de-maravillas.blogspot.com/2010/02/estudio-de-fotografia-los-hermanos.html) I got a cab to Paloquemao, a huge fruit and vegetable and meat and many other things market about a half an hour from the center of town. Really interesting... once again, so many fruits that I have never seen before! Bought some Colombian passion fruit and some mangosteens. Then got a cab to the Museo de Oro, which is a really beautiful and relatively new museum about the history of Colombia's indigenous people told through the motif of their use of gold.
And then hopped in another cab and headed up to North Bogota, near the Zona Rosa, to meet up with my friends Thaddeus and Tatiana. North Bogota is like another world. It is the new part of town, where well-off people live, and where all the real action is. Thaddeus and Tati have a great little apartment on a quiet street right near a beautiful park and lots of restaurants and shops. We went to a special supermarket that just sells fruit and vegetables (Alex Moede! This one's for you!). The great thing about that place was that they have labels on everything, so I was able to take photos with the names of the fruit attached! Bought some more fruit... a feijoa, a something costeno, and one other...
Then we went to take a look at Andres DC, an over-the-top story restaurant that is the Bogota version of a place called Andres Carne de Res, a place out in the countryside that is an institution. It's hard to describe... they have actors who do little skits, and live music, and eclectic decor, and apparently great food. We went to eat at Andres' new place - Plaza de Andres - which is a food court. This was great becaues we could choose a bunch of different things. And I really had not been having great food... filling, yes, but not too flavourful. But what we had was really delicious. Arepa de choclo - a sweet arepa stuffed with cheese - and a steak and an assortment of chorizo and these little papas criollas - baby potatoes that were delicious. And juices... Tati had a combination of passionfruit and blackberry in milk, I think I had feijoa, and Thaddeus... lulo?
It was great to see them and their side of Bogota. Bid goodbye, got a cab back to the old part of town, and packed... Sad to leave Bogota, but happy to start exploring other parts...
We are going out soon to dinner with Gwen's hosts and the organizer of the program she is working at... so more later...
x m
Monday, March 19, 2012
Hola from Bogota
Greetings from Colombia... it is now Monday night... I´ve only been here two and a half days and already have more than I can write about in one sitting. So the first part was composed on Sunday, and the second right now...
I really love it here. People are so, so nice. So... simpatico. Looking forward to my last day in Bogota tomorrow, then heading down to meet up with Gwen...
Part 1: Saturday
Arrived in Bogota yesterday afternoon and quickly found out that the rumours are true: Colombians are incredibly friendly and kind people. My taxi driver from the airport was a hoot - very patient with my non-existant Spanish - and very eager to just be... a really nice guy.
Likewise the folks who run my quirky little hostel. It seems like nothing is more pleasing than trying to figure out what I am saying...
I am staying in La Candelaria, the old quarter of Bogota, which has a lot of hostels, colleges and students, stray dogs, stray hippies, and grafitti. And beautiful little buildings, hilly streets, cobblestones... After I arrived I took a walk around, had an empanada. Storm clouds were coming in, so I went back to the hostel and took a nap. Once it stopped raining really heavily, I went back out. Walked around La Candelaira again, ending up at the Plaza de Chorro (I think that is the name) - supposedly the place where Bogota was founded, now a little square where students and travellers hang out. Had my first Colombian juice - lulo fruit with milk. Kind of like an orange mixed with a kiwi, but sour so they put sugar in. Then I went and had a canelazo de aquardiente in a really cute little bar on the square... tiny and wooden with a fireplace and a chair right by the door and, once again, the nicest of people. The canelazo is a hot drink with suagr and cinnamon and this one had an anise liqour in it.
Then I walked down to the Plaza Bolivar, the main giant square where the government is. It was all lit up and very impressive, with just a few people wandering about. (But lots and lots of police.) An older man had camped out at the foot of the statue of Bolivar. He is on day 19 of a hunger strike in order to encourage dialogue, peace, reform, revolution. I spoke to him for a while tonight (not last night). His name is Alejandro and he speaks very good English. He was an engineer with the Merchant Marine and loved Philadelphia when he was there. An amazing and gentle man... I hope to visit him again before I leave.
A bad seque from hunger strike to what I had for dinner, but I went to a little place that served a soup-stew that is a specialty of Bogota - ajiaco. It was very, very comforting... potatoes and chicken and capers and corn... I slept well that night.
Part 2: Sunday
Today was the day of the Bogota Bike Tour. (bogotabiketours.com) We left at 10:30am and didn´t get back until around 4! Mike, a journalist from CA who has lived in South America for about 15 years, runs the bike tours. He was great and it was great. We went to a lot of places that you would normally not go (like the red light district... prostitution is legal in Colombia but confined to certain "tolerance zones".) It was also the Ciclovia, which is a 30 year old tradition of closing down many of the main streets to cars on Sundays and holidays so that bicyclists and pedestrians can roam freely. Amazing.
Towards the end of the tour we stopped at a market so we could sample some of the numerous fruits Colombia has to offer... tree tomato, lulo, soursop, ground cherry, some amazing version of passion fruit... Then we went across the street to a tejo parlour. Tejo is the national sport of Colombia and consists of tossing a lead weight at a wall of mud in which is embedded trangular pieces of paper filled with gunpowder while drinking lots of beer. Make any sense? No, not really. But it is fun. We stayed an played quite a few rounds, thought none of us scored. I was the only person who made any gunpowder explode, and that was because I threw my weight so far off the mark is skidded across the floor and hit some paper-filled gunpowder that was lying to the side.
I have to say: it is a boy´s fantasy game. You get covered with mud, you throw heavy objects, you make things explode, you drink beer, and they have the urinals in this particular parlour pretty much out in the open so you barely have to stop playing while you pee.
It started to pour rain while we were playing tejo, but eventually we donned plastic ponchos Mike had brought along and rode back. Went to my hostel (Hospedje Cacique Sugamuxi). Got dry, took a little nap, and then headed out. What was great when I went out walking this time was that the tour had oriented me to the city... had a tamal in a little bakery on the way to Montserrate, bought a thing whose name I forget from a little old lady street vendor... two wafers filled with caramel (forget the Colombian name...), ended up back on the main drag of the city (Carrera 7) that w had ridden down while on bikes. Folks were still out walking and shopping a little. Went to a supermarket and picked up some things and just looked around. Then headed back towards Plaza Bolivar, stopped in to Iglesia de San Francisco on the way. The oldest church in Bogota, I think, with a magnificnet gold altar. Mass was just finishing up.
And then got to the Plaza Bolivar and met Alejandro. Sat and spoke with him for a while, along with Alejo (from Argentina) and Juan Carlos (from Ecuador). Then we were joined by a guy I´ll call MexTel, based on the logo on his windbreaker. A homeless man, a drunk or a drug addict, who spoke good English and had also been a Merchant Marine. Jumped ship and went and worked in Texas for a number of years. One of those people who you know are trying to scam you, and is also sort of annoying, but also interesting and worth a little of your time.
But eventually Alejo and Juan Carlos and I left, and wandered around La Candelaria for a while. And then we headed back to our hostels. At Sugamuxi, I had a nice talk with the sister of the owner, who had lived in the States for 10 years when she and her husband were students. She loved Philadelphia, though they lived in the South. The family who owns or runs this place are so, so, so nice. You really feel like a member of the family. I also met the couple´s son earlier. He is visiting from Germany with his (German) boyfriend and helping the family redecorate the place. A real sweetie.
So, slept well again. And now I am going to go to sleep once more...
I really love it here. People are so, so nice. So... simpatico. Looking forward to my last day in Bogota tomorrow, then heading down to meet up with Gwen...
Part 1: Saturday
Arrived in Bogota yesterday afternoon and quickly found out that the rumours are true: Colombians are incredibly friendly and kind people. My taxi driver from the airport was a hoot - very patient with my non-existant Spanish - and very eager to just be... a really nice guy.
Likewise the folks who run my quirky little hostel. It seems like nothing is more pleasing than trying to figure out what I am saying...
I am staying in La Candelaria, the old quarter of Bogota, which has a lot of hostels, colleges and students, stray dogs, stray hippies, and grafitti. And beautiful little buildings, hilly streets, cobblestones... After I arrived I took a walk around, had an empanada. Storm clouds were coming in, so I went back to the hostel and took a nap. Once it stopped raining really heavily, I went back out. Walked around La Candelaira again, ending up at the Plaza de Chorro (I think that is the name) - supposedly the place where Bogota was founded, now a little square where students and travellers hang out. Had my first Colombian juice - lulo fruit with milk. Kind of like an orange mixed with a kiwi, but sour so they put sugar in. Then I went and had a canelazo de aquardiente in a really cute little bar on the square... tiny and wooden with a fireplace and a chair right by the door and, once again, the nicest of people. The canelazo is a hot drink with suagr and cinnamon and this one had an anise liqour in it.
Then I walked down to the Plaza Bolivar, the main giant square where the government is. It was all lit up and very impressive, with just a few people wandering about. (But lots and lots of police.) An older man had camped out at the foot of the statue of Bolivar. He is on day 19 of a hunger strike in order to encourage dialogue, peace, reform, revolution. I spoke to him for a while tonight (not last night). His name is Alejandro and he speaks very good English. He was an engineer with the Merchant Marine and loved Philadelphia when he was there. An amazing and gentle man... I hope to visit him again before I leave.
A bad seque from hunger strike to what I had for dinner, but I went to a little place that served a soup-stew that is a specialty of Bogota - ajiaco. It was very, very comforting... potatoes and chicken and capers and corn... I slept well that night.
Part 2: Sunday
Today was the day of the Bogota Bike Tour. (bogotabiketours.com) We left at 10:30am and didn´t get back until around 4! Mike, a journalist from CA who has lived in South America for about 15 years, runs the bike tours. He was great and it was great. We went to a lot of places that you would normally not go (like the red light district... prostitution is legal in Colombia but confined to certain "tolerance zones".) It was also the Ciclovia, which is a 30 year old tradition of closing down many of the main streets to cars on Sundays and holidays so that bicyclists and pedestrians can roam freely. Amazing.
Towards the end of the tour we stopped at a market so we could sample some of the numerous fruits Colombia has to offer... tree tomato, lulo, soursop, ground cherry, some amazing version of passion fruit... Then we went across the street to a tejo parlour. Tejo is the national sport of Colombia and consists of tossing a lead weight at a wall of mud in which is embedded trangular pieces of paper filled with gunpowder while drinking lots of beer. Make any sense? No, not really. But it is fun. We stayed an played quite a few rounds, thought none of us scored. I was the only person who made any gunpowder explode, and that was because I threw my weight so far off the mark is skidded across the floor and hit some paper-filled gunpowder that was lying to the side.
I have to say: it is a boy´s fantasy game. You get covered with mud, you throw heavy objects, you make things explode, you drink beer, and they have the urinals in this particular parlour pretty much out in the open so you barely have to stop playing while you pee.
It started to pour rain while we were playing tejo, but eventually we donned plastic ponchos Mike had brought along and rode back. Went to my hostel (Hospedje Cacique Sugamuxi). Got dry, took a little nap, and then headed out. What was great when I went out walking this time was that the tour had oriented me to the city... had a tamal in a little bakery on the way to Montserrate, bought a thing whose name I forget from a little old lady street vendor... two wafers filled with caramel (forget the Colombian name...), ended up back on the main drag of the city (Carrera 7) that w had ridden down while on bikes. Folks were still out walking and shopping a little. Went to a supermarket and picked up some things and just looked around. Then headed back towards Plaza Bolivar, stopped in to Iglesia de San Francisco on the way. The oldest church in Bogota, I think, with a magnificnet gold altar. Mass was just finishing up.
And then got to the Plaza Bolivar and met Alejandro. Sat and spoke with him for a while, along with Alejo (from Argentina) and Juan Carlos (from Ecuador). Then we were joined by a guy I´ll call MexTel, based on the logo on his windbreaker. A homeless man, a drunk or a drug addict, who spoke good English and had also been a Merchant Marine. Jumped ship and went and worked in Texas for a number of years. One of those people who you know are trying to scam you, and is also sort of annoying, but also interesting and worth a little of your time.
But eventually Alejo and Juan Carlos and I left, and wandered around La Candelaria for a while. And then we headed back to our hostels. At Sugamuxi, I had a nice talk with the sister of the owner, who had lived in the States for 10 years when she and her husband were students. She loved Philadelphia, though they lived in the South. The family who owns or runs this place are so, so, so nice. You really feel like a member of the family. I also met the couple´s son earlier. He is visiting from Germany with his (German) boyfriend and helping the family redecorate the place. A real sweetie.
So, slept well again. And now I am going to go to sleep once more...
Sunday, October 25, 2009
slowly down the hooghly
I am about to collapse over the keyboard at the internet cafe... I packed as much as possible into my sightseing day in Calcutta.
I got up early and made it out of the hotel just after 8. Walked down Park Street --- all empty on this Sunday morning --- and visited the South Park Street Cemetary... housing the ruined and warped mausoleums of the British dead. Sad and poignant and beautiful... Then on the Flury's --- an Art Deco tea room, and like so many other things in Calcutta, a legacy of the British. Chocolate croissant for breakfast, and a strong cup of tea --- not chai!
Before I went to the cemetary, I encountered a man who seemed like he had wandered out of an Amitav Ghosh novel (I'm sure there are many such characters in this city). Older, fair-skinned, obviously working a "scamming money from tourists in a genteel and interesting way" scheme... "If you have no connections and have not the caste, you cannot find work in this city. I came here 28 years ago from Bihar. My father was English. My mother, Burmese. I am a mix, you see... I live here on this corner with my friends." He certainly didn't look Bihari, and I don't doubt that his heritage was true... I wished him good luck and went on my way.
I then took a long, long walk. Long. Long. Past the Maidan, the vast expanse of green in the middle of the city, where boys play cricket and wedding carriage horses graze --- along with a herd or two of goats. Made my way past many monuments, in and out of privilage and destitution... the only way yo see a city is on your feet. Eventually I made it to Babughat, where I got on a rusty and decrepit but almost empty ferry for a leisurely ride down the Hooghly River to the other side, near the train station. Once there, I walked across Howrah Bridge back to the side I came from, stopping for a drink of fresh cocnut water on the way. At the bottom of the bridge is the flower market and so I plunged in there, furiously taking photos of the riot of colours --- and the occasional flower vendor as well. Stopped at a ghat near the market and delighted some naked children (fresh from their "bath" in the river... I put bath in quotes since the water is wet but very dirty) by taking their photos.
Then through the mostly empty streets. What was nice about doing my tour on a Sunday was that I could wander without being jostled... the business area surroudning BBD Bagh was all shut up (as weere most of the shops on Park Street). I admired the colonial architecture, thought of what it must of been like once. I admired the rusty trams, thought of what they must have been like once! After stopping in St Andrew's Church (once the Scottish church) and reading the memorial stones of more dead British people, I hopped in a cab. Another benefit of a Sunday was that there was no traffic! Usually, traffic is a mess here. (It was on the way from the station yesterday.) Hurtling down the empty streets in the old 1950s style yellow cab, we reached the posh neighborhood I was heading to shortly --- the Forum Mall on Elgin Road, where I would find an Anohki store and a restaurant called, yes, "Oh, Calcutta!"
The mall was... a mall. A small mall, filled with prosperous and often chubby people enjoying their Sunday. A movie theatre was there, scent of popcorn in the air. After a little browsing I took my seat in the fancy restaurant, where the lunch buffet was fantastic (about rs 500, which is about $10). A wonderful assortment of yummy Bengali food to try... I've forgotten the names, but it was really good and gave me a chance to sample lots of different things.
Then I ran off by taxi to the Victoria Memorial, which was grander than I expected... a beautiful building in lovely groomed gardens, with some really interesting exhibits, especially the one on the history of the city. One thing that did seem strange to me is that most of the history exhibit was only in English --- not in Hindi and Bengali as well. But at least I enjoyed it!
Then, the memorial closed with lots of clanging of bells and we were ushered out into the dusk. After hanging out in the gardens a bit, I headed off to finish my shopping. And, as I often seem to do, I decided to walk rather than get in a cab, even though I was tired. And though it might have been more sensible to get a cab, walking allowed me to:
Happen upon what I assume is the main arts complex, with a performnce hall (crowds outside waiting to get in to see a play) and a fine art gallery with several shows by local painters
Stop into the main cathedral (forget the name!). More British dead.
Walk past the plantarium, which looks like it was modelled on Sanchi.
Stop in at the famous Haldiram snack sellers and buy an assortment of barfi. And get a gigggle when I saw that their slogan is "a taste that is a hundred years old". The gloomy looking barfi-selling boy also got a giggle once I pointed out how it sounded like their sweets were 100 year old.
And then I got to Fabindia, my destination. Some shopping, a taxi back to Park Street. Off to have kathi roll and then to bed. I fly to Agartala to meet up with the troupe tomorrow.
x m
Saturday, October 24, 2009
oh kolkata (sorry, couldn't resist)
i'm sitting in an internet cafe on park street in calcutta. i arrived this afternoon after an overnight train journey from raipur and i already love this city. after a shower, i have been taking an evening stroll along the main shopping drag and really feel like i'm in a city that isn't too far away from a city in someplace other than india. i guess that is hard to understand if you haven't been to india, but those who have (and especiall who have been to calcutta) will know what i'm talking about, i think.
suffice it to say to those who are not familiar with calcutta: yes, there is poverty (and the street i am on also goes by the name mother teresa street) but calcutta is also a highly cultured and easy-going place, filled with bookstores and poets and crumbling old colonial architecture.
my trip since my last email has truly been an experience of a lifetime. i'm afraid i just can't write about diwali in the village and do it justice at this point. but i took lots of photos, and i'll definately post some of them once i get back. but lets just stay that the village i was staying in was like something out of central casting for "atmospheric indian village that makes you long to leave the city (at least for a few days)". a clean place, very small, 2 kms walk through the fields and a dirt road to the nearest bus, with little winding lanes of mud houses, painted white and blue. uday's family and the whole village welcomed me, and tried as much as possible to include me in the innumerable pujas that occured (which included getting a smudge of cow dung on my forehead at one point...).
on tuesday, we all left the village (uday's family only comes back for the holidays and otherwise live in bhopal or raipur) and once we reached the local "big" town of rajnandgaon, i got on the absolutely oldest bus i've ever been on for a four hour ride to kawardha, where i would be met by sunny from the bhoramdeo jungle retreat. the ride was not the best, given that the glass in my window did not exist and once the sun goes down it gets very chilly in chhattigarh this time of year. the lights on the bus also went out about 45 minutes before we reached our destination and we had to very carefully make it into town being led by the lights of an obliging motorcycle.
i was greeted at the bus stop by sunny's very cheery and chubby brother sanjay, who was in town for the holidays and usually lives in ahmedabad where he runs a water purification business. sunny was waiting by the car --- as skinny as his brother was chubby, but just as cheery. off sunny and i went in a jeep, out into the country, where a fire was waiting out in front of the bungelows. had a delicious dinner, a shower and gratefully fell into my double, full-length bed (having spent the past fur night sleeping on a charpoy --- otherwise comfortable, but about a foot too short for me.)
slept late in the morning and finally made it out of bed to see the maikal hills surrounding me, an ancient crunbling hindu temple in the distance, cow bells tinkling in the fields next door, and an omelette and fresh fruit waiting for me in the open-air dining room. (also something to be grateful for: i had been eating rice for breakfast lunch and dinner.)
that day i took it easy: visited the main part of the bhoramdeo temple complex with sunny --- dating from the 14th century, i believe, and having erotic art similiar to khajurao --- though much smaller... just one temple in the main part. after another delicious lunch, and a bit of time lazing about reading amitav ghosh's excellent "sea of poppies" sunny delegated sanjay with temporary guide duties, since a forestry official had dropped in for lunch at BJR. so off we went on sunny's motorbike, through the beautiful countryside, with sanjay telling me tales about how he and sunny used to ditch school and go swimming in the river when they were kids.
we went to a small vegetable market which was not too interesting, since it was not a predominantly tribal market. but the ride there and back was lovely and sanjay very funny!
that evening, sunny and i sat out by the fire and had a beer and talked about big issues like what is important in life: doing good, living simply, enjoying what you do. he's a great guy, who does a lot of work helping the tribal people who he considers to be his dear friends. he started out as a guide at kanha national park after he finished school and then started BJR 3 years ago. he has quite a nice set-up for himself... all he is missing is a bride --- someone who could be a true partner with him in his work, so (like half of kawardha) i'm putting out an APB: anyone know a nice indian girl, caste no bar, who loves nature, tribal people, entertaining foreign tourists, helping others, and having a good time while doing it? please let me know if you do... he's not only nice and funny, he is quite cute.
the nest morning, got up for breakfast at 8 and then we set out in the hills... beautiful teak forests and gorgeous views. we had lunch at the home of a doctor in a village about an hour's motocycle ride away from bhoramdeo. a lovely family, who work with several "tolas" --- the small settlements of a few houses that the baiga tribal people live in --- as well as with the gond tribals who are more assimilated into the "regular" indian community. we visited the primary school where the doctor's son teaches --- the kids were excited to see me but also completely speechless that i was there --- and then headed on to a local haat or once-a-week market.
not much to see in terms of what was being sold: mostly vegetables. the baiga do not have the same artistic traditions of many of india's other tribes... they are known as the gentle people of the forest, with a great knowledge of the natural world and a resistance to farming with plows, as that would be the equivilant of cutting your mothers' breast. but they themselves are often works of art: women sport beautiful, simple tattoos on their faces as well as their legs and arms (baiga women wear knee length saris) and men wear their hair long and either tied in a side-of-the-head ponytail or wound up in a knot right above their forehead. people at this market, which was being held in a good-sized town, were friendly and generally outgoing --- and often eager to have their picture taken and delighted to see it on the digital screen. sunny oftens brings people copies of their photos and one elderly woman who was incredibly striking looking (don't know if she knew that, but she had the look of a woman who had been a great beauty in her youth, so she probably did!) insisted i take her photo and insisted i give her a copy --- and kept insisting until she was completely reassured i would not renege on out agreement!
we got back to the retreat at about 3 and i lazed about reading and listening to music on my ipod and enjoying the sunset and then the stars... then sunny and i sat by the fire again and had a beer and i told him about habib sahib and the naya theatre (he had never seen their work but of course knew of them). dinner by the fire... and then to bed.
the next day we also set out around 9 for the countryside. about an hour and a half journey away (through lovely little villages and past beautiful scenary) we reached a haat that was really in the middle nowhere. we got there early. only a few merchants had arrived... but eventually people started coming... some of them literally walking out of the forest... after watching for a while, we drive down the road a bit and had a picnic underneath a big mahua tree (a flowering tree with a raisin like fruit which is used to make tribal liquor). then back to the market, which had now gotten going. the people there were different than at the previous market... much more shy, much less a part of "mainstream" society. i unfortunately made a lot of little children cry just by showing up...
it was really an incredible experience. beautiful people --- and gentle people.
back on the bike and back to the retreat... only to have to reluctantly pack and head into town. first we stopped off at sunny's house where his mother fed me (of course) and he and sanjay showed me their neighborhood. and then off by myself in a car with a very trustworthy driver for the 3 hour jounry to raipur to catch the train.
train journey was fine, except that i had the worst berth in the 2nd AC car: upper berth right by the door and a few inches under the AC vents! at least an over-ACed american could handle it.
Made friends with a young woman who is an officer in the air force and we had a quick lunch in howrah station before going our separate ways... and then, here i am. sad to have left the peace of the country... but i am a city girl and was thrilled to be walking along the bustling streets this evening. tommorrow, as much sightseeing and shopping as i can fit into a day and then a flight to agartala on monday to join up with the troupe.
now i'm off to find some dinner...
m
Thursday, October 15, 2009
crazy crackers
the diwali festivities have begun and very loud firecrackers are being set off in jagdalpur town.
i'm sorry i do not have time to write about my trips to the tribal markets and craftsman... my schedule has been jam packed, and i am very hungry at the moment! tomorrow i am off to spend diwali in one of the naya theatre actors' village... that should be more quiet and very interesting... and then time at this place:
then calcutta, then agartala, and then home... and then i will post many photos, because they are worth a thousand words.
but before i go, just a few words:
live red ants served on a bed of white any eggs in a leaf bowl. a favourite snack of the local tribals, only 5 rupees, and on sale at every market!
x m
Saturday, October 10, 2009
suburban bhopal days
Sitting in an internet cafe in the green hills of Bhopal...
On Monday, I arrived in Bhopal, the city in central india where the Naya Theatre is based and my dear friends live. Manoj picked me up at the airport; since I last saw him 7 years ago, he has gotten a wife, a baby son, a car and a house in the suburbs. A family man! Though he continues to run his mime troupe (yes, white-faced mime... it is very avant garde and quite successful in Bhopal) and also teaches theatre at a school. His house is way out of town... very much the Indian equivelant of a new development of townhouses... only with a dirt road and cows and a little tin and brick hut where the caretaker lives. His wife Smita is lovely and also an actress... and completely fluent in English, which was helpful. Their little boy Anhad is extremely sweet... and the house very nice.
I spent most of the next two days at the house during the day time. Unfortuntely, Manoj had to go to work and so I stayed home with Smita and baby. A little boring... but also interesting to just observe daily life and it's much less rushed pace. Smita's parents arrived from Kerala (where both her family and Manoj's are originally from) on the second day... very nice and spent some time in Cincinnatti when their son wrked there. Apprently, they spent each day in the library while he was at work. For 2 months.
In the evenings I went to rehearsal... it was wonderful to see Nageen and all the troupe again! The first night they were rehearsing Habib Sahib's translation of Midsummer NIght's Dream... Manoj made an excellent Puck and the actors who played the mechanicals were fanstastic.... as rural people themselves they totally get the characters. (For those of you who do not know what I am talking about, google "Naya Theatre Habib Tanvir"!)
On Thursday night it was Anhad's big first birthday party. A tent was erected outside of Manoj's house and caterers prepared all sorts of party food: masala dosa, channa batura, dahi vada, chow mein... Archana, a wonderful and vibrant artist friend of Manpj's who I had met before, eventually got everyone (or at least a good amount of people... maybe ten out of the 150 who were there!) dancing, something a bit unusual in India. I did my duty as the star attraction (apart from Anhad) and danced as well!
The next day I left Manoj's house and am now staying with Nageen, which is lovely and feels just like home... but an empty home without the presence of Moneeka and Habib. Nageen is very happy to have me and I wish could stay longer... but my lans have been made and I leave for Raipur on the night of the 12th by overnight train and then straight on to Jagdalpur the next morning. And then: tribal India! A dream of mine coming true...
x m
On Monday, I arrived in Bhopal, the city in central india where the Naya Theatre is based and my dear friends live. Manoj picked me up at the airport; since I last saw him 7 years ago, he has gotten a wife, a baby son, a car and a house in the suburbs. A family man! Though he continues to run his mime troupe (yes, white-faced mime... it is very avant garde and quite successful in Bhopal) and also teaches theatre at a school. His house is way out of town... very much the Indian equivelant of a new development of townhouses... only with a dirt road and cows and a little tin and brick hut where the caretaker lives. His wife Smita is lovely and also an actress... and completely fluent in English, which was helpful. Their little boy Anhad is extremely sweet... and the house very nice.
I spent most of the next two days at the house during the day time. Unfortuntely, Manoj had to go to work and so I stayed home with Smita and baby. A little boring... but also interesting to just observe daily life and it's much less rushed pace. Smita's parents arrived from Kerala (where both her family and Manoj's are originally from) on the second day... very nice and spent some time in Cincinnatti when their son wrked there. Apprently, they spent each day in the library while he was at work. For 2 months.
In the evenings I went to rehearsal... it was wonderful to see Nageen and all the troupe again! The first night they were rehearsing Habib Sahib's translation of Midsummer NIght's Dream... Manoj made an excellent Puck and the actors who played the mechanicals were fanstastic.... as rural people themselves they totally get the characters. (For those of you who do not know what I am talking about, google "Naya Theatre Habib Tanvir"!)
On Thursday night it was Anhad's big first birthday party. A tent was erected outside of Manoj's house and caterers prepared all sorts of party food: masala dosa, channa batura, dahi vada, chow mein... Archana, a wonderful and vibrant artist friend of Manpj's who I had met before, eventually got everyone (or at least a good amount of people... maybe ten out of the 150 who were there!) dancing, something a bit unusual in India. I did my duty as the star attraction (apart from Anhad) and danced as well!
The next day I left Manoj's house and am now staying with Nageen, which is lovely and feels just like home... but an empty home without the presence of Moneeka and Habib. Nageen is very happy to have me and I wish could stay longer... but my lans have been made and I leave for Raipur on the night of the 12th by overnight train and then straight on to Jagdalpur the next morning. And then: tribal India! A dream of mine coming true...
x m
Monday, October 05, 2009
in delhi
I'm in India! I'll be here for a month, mostly travelling with and staying with my friends at the Naya Theatre in Bhopal... and sending out some emails along the way...
I arrived in Delhi on Friday night. Flight was smooth; finding my guesthouse in Lajpat Nagar, South Delhi was not... the taxi just could not locate it and we kept going around and around. Eventually I realized that he was being, well, quite stupid about it. Even with the guesthouse on the phone, he couldn't find it. Even knowing it was in A block, he went tearing off to M block. Finally, I insisted we go back to A block and do a systematic search: i.e., look at the numbers. Voila: there it was. Not too hard after all.
My guesthouse, Likir House, is run by Tibetans and is associated with a monastery in Ladakh. Very comfy and laidback, in a nice neighborhood away fom all the tourist craziness. On Saturday --- battling jetlag --- I went shopping in nearby Central Market and then went to see a play at the Delhi International Arts festival, directed by an old acquaintance I met through the Naya Theatre, Arvind Gaur. So nice to see Arvind...
On Sunday, I took the metro up to the Tibetan colony at Majnu ka Tilla. The metro is incredible... clean and air conditioned and huge. You buy a pastic token which is read by the machine going in, and then inerted into the going-out machine. The voice amking announcements is very simliar to the woman on the London tube, though the London tube does not have her advising passengers to kindly not sit on the floor of the train.
Majnu ka Tilla was interesting... a very warren-like collection of alleys where many Tobetns live. Had some momo soup at Wongdhen House (a popular backpacker guesthouse) and wandered around a bit before catching a cycle rickshaw back to the metro. Then on to more shopping in Khan Market and Dilli Haat. Khan Market is a fancy market popular with ex-pats. Dilli Haat is a big open-air "mall" where you pay a small entance fee and there are craft booths from all over the country. And then back to Lajpat Nagar... to the Cafe Coffee Day next to the Vdaphone store, to be precise. I bought an indian SIM card, but am having trouble getting reception anyplace except right around the store where I bought the card! I think it is because I am on an American cell phone... I knew I might get less reception, but this is absurd! I might have to spring for an Indian "handset." Had a nice chat with my friend Geetali in Shimla and touched base with my friend in Bhopal about my arrival there Monday evening.
Today I went to a place I thought i'd never go again: Paharganj, the backpacker mecca of Delhi. As dirty and tout filled as ever... but this time I was there because I was going on a walk prganized by Salaam Balaak Trust, an NGO that helps street children who live near the Delhi tain station, as well as the at-risk kids of migrant workers who also live near the station. I went on the walk with a very nice English couple, and our tour guide was 20 year old Anil. He lives with his mother in a small house along the tracks, and has been educated (is now attending college) through the intervention of Salaam Balaak. We saw the different "contact points" where the street kids can come and hang out, get medical attention, a little schooling, and the opportunity to perhaps go and live in one of the Trust's "shelters" (ie, orphanages) or be reunited with their families if thy so desire. We also saw a little school near the migrant settlement where kids can come before and after school for extra instruction. The tour finished up with a short walk around the back streets of Paharganj, seeing a lane where the potters work, and then a stop at one of the shelters. I had a short meeting with the director; the Trust has a very active theatre program, so she was telling me about that.
Then Charlotte and Andrew (who had just arrived in India) came with me (again by metro) to the Andhra Pradesh Bhavan Canteen for lunch. I ahd read about this place online and it was fantastic! Rs 80 (less than $2) for an all you can eat vegetarian "thali" (meal). Spicy and delicious and when they say 'all you can eat" they really mean it --- you have to fight off the men trying to put more eggplant and dal and rice and sambar on your plate! Truly a fun, "old-school" Indian experience. (As opposed to, say, talking on your cell phone in Cafe Coffee Day while having a mocha latte...)
It was raining yesterday and today, which has mae the waether nice and cool, though also, well, a little wet. I'm leaving in about an hour for the plane... away from dirty Delhi... dear old dirty Delhi...
x m
I arrived in Delhi on Friday night. Flight was smooth; finding my guesthouse in Lajpat Nagar, South Delhi was not... the taxi just could not locate it and we kept going around and around. Eventually I realized that he was being, well, quite stupid about it. Even with the guesthouse on the phone, he couldn't find it. Even knowing it was in A block, he went tearing off to M block. Finally, I insisted we go back to A block and do a systematic search: i.e., look at the numbers. Voila: there it was. Not too hard after all.
My guesthouse, Likir House, is run by Tibetans and is associated with a monastery in Ladakh. Very comfy and laidback, in a nice neighborhood away fom all the tourist craziness. On Saturday --- battling jetlag --- I went shopping in nearby Central Market and then went to see a play at the Delhi International Arts festival, directed by an old acquaintance I met through the Naya Theatre, Arvind Gaur. So nice to see Arvind...
On Sunday, I took the metro up to the Tibetan colony at Majnu ka Tilla. The metro is incredible... clean and air conditioned and huge. You buy a pastic token which is read by the machine going in, and then inerted into the going-out machine. The voice amking announcements is very simliar to the woman on the London tube, though the London tube does not have her advising passengers to kindly not sit on the floor of the train.
Majnu ka Tilla was interesting... a very warren-like collection of alleys where many Tobetns live. Had some momo soup at Wongdhen House (a popular backpacker guesthouse) and wandered around a bit before catching a cycle rickshaw back to the metro. Then on to more shopping in Khan Market and Dilli Haat. Khan Market is a fancy market popular with ex-pats. Dilli Haat is a big open-air "mall" where you pay a small entance fee and there are craft booths from all over the country. And then back to Lajpat Nagar... to the Cafe Coffee Day next to the Vdaphone store, to be precise. I bought an indian SIM card, but am having trouble getting reception anyplace except right around the store where I bought the card! I think it is because I am on an American cell phone... I knew I might get less reception, but this is absurd! I might have to spring for an Indian "handset." Had a nice chat with my friend Geetali in Shimla and touched base with my friend in Bhopal about my arrival there Monday evening.
Today I went to a place I thought i'd never go again: Paharganj, the backpacker mecca of Delhi. As dirty and tout filled as ever... but this time I was there because I was going on a walk prganized by Salaam Balaak Trust, an NGO that helps street children who live near the Delhi tain station, as well as the at-risk kids of migrant workers who also live near the station. I went on the walk with a very nice English couple, and our tour guide was 20 year old Anil. He lives with his mother in a small house along the tracks, and has been educated (is now attending college) through the intervention of Salaam Balaak. We saw the different "contact points" where the street kids can come and hang out, get medical attention, a little schooling, and the opportunity to perhaps go and live in one of the Trust's "shelters" (ie, orphanages) or be reunited with their families if thy so desire. We also saw a little school near the migrant settlement where kids can come before and after school for extra instruction. The tour finished up with a short walk around the back streets of Paharganj, seeing a lane where the potters work, and then a stop at one of the shelters. I had a short meeting with the director; the Trust has a very active theatre program, so she was telling me about that.
Then Charlotte and Andrew (who had just arrived in India) came with me (again by metro) to the Andhra Pradesh Bhavan Canteen for lunch. I ahd read about this place online and it was fantastic! Rs 80 (less than $2) for an all you can eat vegetarian "thali" (meal). Spicy and delicious and when they say 'all you can eat" they really mean it --- you have to fight off the men trying to put more eggplant and dal and rice and sambar on your plate! Truly a fun, "old-school" Indian experience. (As opposed to, say, talking on your cell phone in Cafe Coffee Day while having a mocha latte...)
It was raining yesterday and today, which has mae the waether nice and cool, though also, well, a little wet. I'm leaving in about an hour for the plane... away from dirty Delhi... dear old dirty Delhi...
x m
