My friend Christina just proposed that life may in fact be a dance floor, and God is the DJ. Now would He play just Christian music? I think country maybe too sad. Definitely no gangsta rap. Does He take requests? "Yo, Holiest of Homies, how dost Thou feel about a little 'Karma Chameleon'"? Love would be easy, if your colors were like my dreams. I think we're getting off track here. Is Jesus pouring the wine at this club? Woo woo! In any case, I believe we are supposed to just dance.
My friend Gemma calls me "Happy Feet", I think due to some lack of formal dance training. Kevin told me once that if I taught him how to ride a motorcycle, he'd teach me how to dance. My niece Alexandra thinks I'm a great dancer. I think only the purest minds can appreciate my interpretive moves (that's right). I mean there are so many types of dance dating back to the beginnings of history. I just may not be appreciated in my own millenium. (This really is going somewhere, I promise.) So, I think to "just dance" is to get out there and DO IT (and do it, and do it). That's what traveling is. That's what life is. Might as well jump.
I was dancing last night in Cartagena. Of course every song had a new dance, and by the time I got the hang of one, I had to learn a new one. No MJ. It was the end of a great day. Like I said before, it's nice to have friends... and friends of friends. My Cartagena tour guide was Diana. She took me to the best hotel - Sofitel - for a refreshing beverage; I had a green mango martini (with lime and salt). Afterwards, we cabbed it to see the sunset from the top of the centuries-old city wall - awesome view, looking out at the ocean! We had reservations for a really nice restaurant, supposedly, but our cocktail waitress took 50 minutes to deliver our check, and we missed our reservation. However, we found a mediocre, yet pleasant meal in a delightful setting of one of the main city's plazas. A man even sat with us and sang while playing guitar! It was a good night, as my host was determined out of national pride (no, I'm serious) to make it so. One impression I have had so far on this trip is that the Colombian people are not only very open and welcoming, but in fact determined to impress their guest with hospitality (cocktail waitress excluded) so as to leave an indelible positive impression. Colombians are eager to have the world know that what you see in the movies is not Colombia. There are many unpleasant realities in many places. What a breath of fresh air to see a people dedicated to rising above. Now that, my friends, is change you can believe in.
Off to the pool...
Posted from moBlog – mobile blogging tool for Windows Mobile
Friday, September 3, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Consejo Sin Precio
When my mom stepped out of the hospital room for a few moments, I asked my uncle Sam about Colombia. I thought if I had his blessing, I'd go. He was short on words at that point, but not on fondness for this country... and more specifically, Cartagena. So, I'm here.
First of all, I have been extremely lucky to have several Colombian friends in the United States whom, not only have advised me on this trip, but, have put me in contact with their friends and family down here. So, Jamie, Jorge, Jaime, Manuel, Oscar, Natalia, and Natalie... Muchas Gracias. I have had so much help that I haven't even much looked at my guide book! I'm quite certain there is no section in there devoted to where to spend your birthday with a table full of friends; probably nothing in the index leading you to an international conference on migration with the speach writer for the mayor of Bogota; and definitely no section devoted to cruising the local malls with senior citizens for mamacitas... or perhaps I just borrowed the wrong book from the MLK Library (was the only one!). In any case, for better or for worse, as I wrote several entries back, a world traveler believes and comes to know that are some things not found in books.
So I arrived around dusk yesterday in Cartagena. In contrast to the oftentimes chilly huge capital city of Bogota set inland and high up in a valley surrounded by mountains, and seemingly always nestled among the clouds, Cartagena is situated down along the Carribean coast between Panama and Venezuela. (I don't plan on making jaunts to either to make country #21.) There are palm trees at the airport. I'm going to leave it at that for now, as it is morning and have yet to see this place in the daylight. Buenos Dias a Todos!!!
Posted from moBlog – mobile blogging tool for Windows Mobile
First of all, I have been extremely lucky to have several Colombian friends in the United States whom, not only have advised me on this trip, but, have put me in contact with their friends and family down here. So, Jamie, Jorge, Jaime, Manuel, Oscar, Natalia, and Natalie... Muchas Gracias. I have had so much help that I haven't even much looked at my guide book! I'm quite certain there is no section in there devoted to where to spend your birthday with a table full of friends; probably nothing in the index leading you to an international conference on migration with the speach writer for the mayor of Bogota; and definitely no section devoted to cruising the local malls with senior citizens for mamacitas... or perhaps I just borrowed the wrong book from the MLK Library (was the only one!). In any case, for better or for worse, as I wrote several entries back, a world traveler believes and comes to know that are some things not found in books.
So I arrived around dusk yesterday in Cartagena. In contrast to the oftentimes chilly huge capital city of Bogota set inland and high up in a valley surrounded by mountains, and seemingly always nestled among the clouds, Cartagena is situated down along the Carribean coast between Panama and Venezuela. (I don't plan on making jaunts to either to make country #21.) There are palm trees at the airport. I'm going to leave it at that for now, as it is morning and have yet to see this place in the daylight. Buenos Dias a Todos!!!
Posted from moBlog – mobile blogging tool for Windows Mobile
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Es un Pajaro? Es un Avion? Es SuperMarkito!!!
So, I am now convinced that at least one of the following are true: doors, especially car doors, are made of inferior materials that are lighter than American doors and slam easier, OR in this country I have super-human powers not unlike Superman on Planet Earth. I´m convinced of the latter, but either or both may be true. (Cab drivers HATE me.) I´m trying to contain the fuerza...
So, I have been blessed with a very gracious host, who happens to be the father of a friend of mine. Oscar warned me that he likes to talk, but it has been somewhat of a linguistic adventure. I´m doing my darndest to practice my Spanish with him, but for some reason he still calls me "Mart," and doesn´t seem to catch my body language that says "I have no idea what the hell you are talking about; may I please just go to sleep?" Perhaps my finely honed international spy skills have masked any such cues, which would explain why I get asked to do readings at French church services and why Spaniards at work think I enjoy running around for no tip (sorry to my Spanish friends). In any case, Señor Gonzales and I have had some priceless conversations. This morning, he explained Colombian history, and switched gears to World War II, basically calling us Americans cowards for our tardy entry. I do the minority of the talking, so I didn´t ask when Colombia stepped in to topple the axis. However, I was happy to inform him that since, we have learned our lesson and have no problem stepping in first to fight communism, terrorism, and all other manner of -isms we deem counterproductive to the planet (or at least to us). He liked that a lot. I discussed this, along with an answer to her query as to why I am not a liberal, with my new friend Silvana at the Gold Museum, and she doesn´t want to be friends anymore. So much for my foreign relations endeavor. Time to find a steak and a beer
So, I have been blessed with a very gracious host, who happens to be the father of a friend of mine. Oscar warned me that he likes to talk, but it has been somewhat of a linguistic adventure. I´m doing my darndest to practice my Spanish with him, but for some reason he still calls me "Mart," and doesn´t seem to catch my body language that says "I have no idea what the hell you are talking about; may I please just go to sleep?" Perhaps my finely honed international spy skills have masked any such cues, which would explain why I get asked to do readings at French church services and why Spaniards at work think I enjoy running around for no tip (sorry to my Spanish friends). In any case, Señor Gonzales and I have had some priceless conversations. This morning, he explained Colombian history, and switched gears to World War II, basically calling us Americans cowards for our tardy entry. I do the minority of the talking, so I didn´t ask when Colombia stepped in to topple the axis. However, I was happy to inform him that since, we have learned our lesson and have no problem stepping in first to fight communism, terrorism, and all other manner of -isms we deem counterproductive to the planet (or at least to us). He liked that a lot. I discussed this, along with an answer to her query as to why I am not a liberal, with my new friend Silvana at the Gold Museum, and she doesn´t want to be friends anymore. So much for my foreign relations endeavor. Time to find a steak and a beer
Monday, August 30, 2010
Bogota, Colombia... Buscando Shakira
I know it´s still early, but 48 hours in traveling in Colombia, and I have yet to witness a kidnapping or come into any contact with any illegal drugs. I am in the capital city of Bogota. It is a huge modern city in a valley surrounded by lush green mountains. So far I have only heard Shakira once (and Michael Jackson at least three times) but I will survive. I arrived from Miami on Saturday, and was kindly greeted my my friend´s father, Señor Gonzales. We went directly to eat at the local mall which had churrasco - a grilled steak with fried rice and banana. Que rrrrico! I met up with my friend´s cousin and about ten other friends, for unbeknownst to them what was to be my pre-birthday dinner at a ... of course... Spanish restaurant. All of my new friends were very warm and kind, and there was a mix of them practicing english and me practicing spanish. Through some miracle of modern technology, my friend in DC, Jaime, alerted my gracious dining partners that it was in fact my birthday eve. Well, we celebrated. There was much dancing, aguardiente, and even a cheesecake complete with candle and "Feliz Cumple" written in a berry sauce on the plate. It was a great time.
Yesterday, I spent some time with my new friends Silvana and Julio. I toured the old part of the city where all of the government buildings are. I saw an unexpectedly great collection of art, including works from Cesanne, Monet, Picasso, and a local favorite Botero! Botero is from Medallin and paints and sculpts all fat things. There is even a fat version of Mona Lisa and Adam & Eve... pretty interesante! Nearby, there was a restaurant that advertises "el mejor ajiaco en todo el mundo", so we had to try it. It was a chicken stew. I might try to make it. Later, we all met up for what was ostensibly "coffee", but was decidedly more aptly described as Aguila cerveza; hey, I´m just a guest here, so who am I to complain?
Yesterday, I spent some time with my new friends Silvana and Julio. I toured the old part of the city where all of the government buildings are. I saw an unexpectedly great collection of art, including works from Cesanne, Monet, Picasso, and a local favorite Botero! Botero is from Medallin and paints and sculpts all fat things. There is even a fat version of Mona Lisa and Adam & Eve... pretty interesante! Nearby, there was a restaurant that advertises "el mejor ajiaco en todo el mundo", so we had to try it. It was a chicken stew. I might try to make it. Later, we all met up for what was ostensibly "coffee", but was decidedly more aptly described as Aguila cerveza; hey, I´m just a guest here, so who am I to complain?
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Bienvenido a Miami
Of course with a 16 hour overnight layover in Miami, Florida, I did what any sensible red-blooded American would do - I tried to stay awake the whole time. Given the Orange Bowl Catastrophe of y'or, it was a must. MI-AMI!!!
So I rented a car and drove to South Beach. Dinner at Ola (1745 James Ave.) was quite nice, as it should have been given the price tag. I enjoyed some non-Peruvian "Fire & Ice" ceviche, crispy pork, and a delicious "Deconstructed Key Lime Pie." Afterwards, I strolled to find a cool (temperature) place to hang out, and yeah, there are no cool places in Miami... just places to sweat, and sweat less! Since all of the girls were wearing 6 - 9 inch high heels, there was really no one there eye-level or below with whom to make friends, so I opted for a different locale after a few hours - Fort Lauderdale.
I knew my friend Natalie was a bartender there, and it wasn't too far, and I had to utilize my wheels. What I didn't know was that Natalie's twin sister ALSO works at the same club and had absolutely no idea who I was! "Hellooo... helloo? Remember me? No? Really? That's cool, I can take a hint." No, actually Didi was very nice once she stopped ignoring me as the crazy guy waving his arms in the air like a third base coach on steroids (Do the base coaches take steroids too?), and she took me to her sister. It turns out their family is from Colombia and actually gave me some travel tips for the big trip. Well anyway, everything closed at 4 am, so I slept in the car for two hours and proceded back to South Beach just in time for sunrise. I hope you like the photos. Next stop: Bogota!
So I rented a car and drove to South Beach. Dinner at Ola (1745 James Ave.) was quite nice, as it should have been given the price tag. I enjoyed some non-Peruvian "Fire & Ice" ceviche, crispy pork, and a delicious "Deconstructed Key Lime Pie." Afterwards, I strolled to find a cool (temperature) place to hang out, and yeah, there are no cool places in Miami... just places to sweat, and sweat less! Since all of the girls were wearing 6 - 9 inch high heels, there was really no one there eye-level or below with whom to make friends, so I opted for a different locale after a few hours - Fort Lauderdale.
I knew my friend Natalie was a bartender there, and it wasn't too far, and I had to utilize my wheels. What I didn't know was that Natalie's twin sister ALSO works at the same club and had absolutely no idea who I was! "Hellooo... helloo? Remember me? No? Really? That's cool, I can take a hint." No, actually Didi was very nice once she stopped ignoring me as the crazy guy waving his arms in the air like a third base coach on steroids (Do the base coaches take steroids too?), and she took me to her sister. It turns out their family is from Colombia and actually gave me some travel tips for the big trip. Well anyway, everything closed at 4 am, so I slept in the car for two hours and proceded back to South Beach just in time for sunrise. I hope you like the photos. Next stop: Bogota!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Something New
Five years ago, my friend Drew and I discovered that we were both to turn 30 that same month of August (he's older). We had some down-time at work to plan the possibilities for a birthmonth celebration that would be suitable for such a landmark birthday, and we decided we should do something new every day before our respective special days that we hadn't done before. We started brainstorming, and it opened our minds to the possibilities if one only chooses to actively pursue new experiences. I cannot tell you the whole list, but I will say that we had a crab feast that was quite memorable. Even a little accomplishment felt like a step forward in life... and it was an exercise I highly recommend.
Fast-forward five years (Drew is 35 already) and I am 34. As my fellow Californian friend has since gone his own way, every year I've chosen in some small way to carry on the tradition - the August Birthmonth Challenge! Yes, it has seen many an endeavor, both large and small, and taken me to New York, California, the Outer Banks of North Carolina, Maine, and to a Sammy Hagar/Chickenfoot show at the House of Blues in Myrtle Beach. Yes, the 29 days of August (Drew only has 13) require thought, dedication, creativity... and are not for the weak nor the timid. So we press on!
I thought I would share a sampling of this year's list as I take on the final week. So far, I have: held an art exhibit showcasing more than thirty of my favorite photographs; gone water-skiing for the first time in two decades; returned to San Francisco and found a wonderful cajun breakfast and an ice cream shop that delighted me with "Secret Breakfast" and Smoked Sea Salt Chocolate; explored two new wineries in Napa Valley; unknowingly got "shopped" by secret shoppers (not my decision, of course); given a eulogy; created a strawberry-peach breakfast bruschetta; dined at Vinoteca and Poste; visited old friends for the first time in Lodi and enjoyed a perfect evening barbecue; prepared white sangria for a memorial service; prepared a Spanish meal for my Uncle's favorite people; tried (key word) to learn some latin dances; danced with a crackhead and a pregnant woman in the same night; tried several new Spanish wines and one Spanish beer... It's been a busy month. Friday, I fly to Miami. Saturday, I will enter country #20 - Colombia.
Fast-forward five years (Drew is 35 already) and I am 34. As my fellow Californian friend has since gone his own way, every year I've chosen in some small way to carry on the tradition - the August Birthmonth Challenge! Yes, it has seen many an endeavor, both large and small, and taken me to New York, California, the Outer Banks of North Carolina, Maine, and to a Sammy Hagar/Chickenfoot show at the House of Blues in Myrtle Beach. Yes, the 29 days of August (Drew only has 13) require thought, dedication, creativity... and are not for the weak nor the timid. So we press on!
I thought I would share a sampling of this year's list as I take on the final week. So far, I have: held an art exhibit showcasing more than thirty of my favorite photographs; gone water-skiing for the first time in two decades; returned to San Francisco and found a wonderful cajun breakfast and an ice cream shop that delighted me with "Secret Breakfast" and Smoked Sea Salt Chocolate; explored two new wineries in Napa Valley; unknowingly got "shopped" by secret shoppers (not my decision, of course); given a eulogy; created a strawberry-peach breakfast bruschetta; dined at Vinoteca and Poste; visited old friends for the first time in Lodi and enjoyed a perfect evening barbecue; prepared white sangria for a memorial service; prepared a Spanish meal for my Uncle's favorite people; tried (key word) to learn some latin dances; danced with a crackhead and a pregnant woman in the same night; tried several new Spanish wines and one Spanish beer... It's been a busy month. Friday, I fly to Miami. Saturday, I will enter country #20 - Colombia.
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