Speak, World
On this platform, my “footprints” are postcards to my friends. My home is the country I am in! I am committed to learning its language, and as much as possible about it, while maintaining great curiosity, a sense of humor and increasing acceptance. En savoir plus🇺🇸Alexandria
  • FEBRUARY 2023: Outings and Carnival!

    28 février 2023, Mexique ⋅ ☀️ 31 °C

    OUTINGS AND CARNIVAL! FEBRUARY 2023

    First, a moment of memory and affection for my friend and neighbor Roger Bobo. I call him the Jascha Heifetz of tuba players. He also also taught the world through his many distinguished students that the tuba is a beautiful instrument. Please listen!

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1txIgL8-2xY

    We started February with a Sunday excursion to the town of Cuilápam to see the ex-convento there. Twenty years after Spain’s conquest of Mexico in 1521, it is astonishing how many such gargantuan religious edifices were built. (Or maybe not “astonishing,” as the Mesoamerican peoples were forced to tear down their own buildings and use the same stones to build the Spaniards’ religious edifices.)

    At the ex-convent it was not only the day of a marriage, a baptism, and a quinceañera, but also Culiápam’s saint’s day, so there was much action in this ancient place. Enrique and I went for a walk in the surrounding farmed areas, and bought just-harvested black beans and peanuts from a local owner. And as always, there was a delicious meal in the market. Since we arrived late, we were served the last remaining dish: beef “panzita” in a tomato-y broth. It’s the only kind of tripe that Enrique can stomach.

    The following Sunday we went to the town of Ocotlán, home of the artist Rodolfo Morales. We visited the museum which his family’s Foundation is running to display his works in rotation. There are murals of his in churches in the Central Valley of Oaxaca, and in other places as well. Search for “Roberto Morales Ocotlán” for beautiful images. The market was quite a highlight—full of activity, color, noise, and so much to buy!

    Our third outing was to Mitla, which is famous for its Zapotec ruins and beautiful weavings. We saw the ruins first (of course all buildings were devastated by the conquering Spaniards, who forced the rightful owners to destroy their own buildings etc., etc.) Then we our market lunch, and a fascinating conversation with our hostess. She lived and worked as far north as Baja California, but made her way home south to Oaxaca twenty-odd years later. Finally, we bought lovely tablecloth “clothing” for Enrique’s and my dining tables.

    Carnival! It is a time for happy pre-Lenten celebrations, with many many devils. The highlight was a parade of the best of carnival from neighboring villages here in the Valle Central de Oaxaca.

    And oh! Of course there was Valentine’s Day.

    Please enjoy the photos.
    En savoir plus

  • JANUARY 2023: The Family Pays a Visit

    18 janvier 2023, Mexique ⋅ ☁️ 15 °C

    In my previous blog about my trip to northern Chile, I frequently received remarks like, “How wonderful that you’re traveling again!” This was strange to me, because every single day I’m in Oaxaca, I feel that I’m in the midst of a different kind of “travel:” that of traveling into the depths of a culture and my own soul. This is the fourth time in my life I’ve taken such a trip. The first was 1969-71 in Matsumoto, Japan; the second from 1980-86 in London, England, and the third from 1986-87 in Cairo, Egypt. But now, since August 2020, I’ve been on the journey of a lifetime—combining and using all of the knowledge of my 71 years, and learning utterly new things in depth as well.

    So I have decided to take you along on a monthly blog of this deeper-than-touristic voyage so you can see what it means to me. We’ll start with January.

    My pareja Enrique Suárez Murcio is one of four siblings: oldest brother Marco Antonio, deceased from COVID; older sister Rosalina—“Lina,” and younger brother Rafael. Lina and Rafael came to Oaxaca for the first time since their childhood visits: 36 years later! The purpose was to help out with a legal issue regarding the family home (write your wills NOW, everyone!) but it was also celebratory. After a day in Family Court, we spent the rest of the time enjoying each other’s company in various places. I am thrilled to be in the midst of Family, and equally grateful to be warmly accepted by them.

    The month rounds out with a few other bits and pieces: scenes from Oaxaca, two Oaxacan artists, some street scenes, a Sunday “dry season” outing in the hills to the north of the city, and the stressed-out neighbor’s cat sleeping off his relegation to “decidedly not so important” after the birth of his family’s first child.

    January!
    En savoir plus

  • Atacama Desert: Red Rocks and Salt Flats

    This is a combination of my last two days’ tours on January 14 and 15, with photos so you can see the desert scenery. More explanations are given in the photo captions.

    Most of the area is up near the Bolivian border. In fact, in the salt flats tour, our guide was actually an English and Spanish teacher from La Paz, Bolivia. A few times we were above 4500 meters (14,700 feet) altitude! When I breathed, I couldn’t feel any result of being oxygenated. This resulted in my walking slowly and not talking to anyone— to try to get my breath back!

    On the last day, I shared the tour with the Bolivian guide, a doctor from Santiago specializing in geriatrics, and a retired Taiwanese chemical engineer. The four of us bonded immediately, and enjoyed each others’ company the whole day. A jackpot!

    And this concludes my trip to northern Chile.
    En savoir plus

  • Atacama Desert: Valle de la Luna

    13 janvier 2023, Chili ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    It seems that the tourism industry in each country I visit picks two or three major sights to fly visitors who have only a week to explore. The two places in Chile are Torres del Paine National Park and the Atacama Desert. Missing are a slew of gentler, lesser-known places that I have loved, such as the island of Chiloe. (I wrote about it in my first trip to Chile.)

    The Atacama Desert is a wild and beautiful place, with little water, high altitudes, and a variety of interesting altiplano plants and animals. The indigenous people who live there are the Likanantaí. They are the stewards of the lands that I visited with my tours, charging admission to each major stop, and watching over the innumerable visitors.

    Remember the NY Times article a few months ago about huge lithium deposits that were found in northern Chile? Well, this is where they were found—in the fragile reserves in the region. The rights to mine were sold by the Chilean government to a U.S. company, and all hell will break loose in 2030. You need must get to the Atacama soon, as much will be lost—especially in the salt flats you’ll see in my upcoming posts.

    These pictures show my first excursion.
    En savoir plus

  • A 13-Hour Ride: La Serena to Calama

    11 janvier 2023, Chili ⋅ ☀️ 28 °C

    I was so curious to see the deserts in northern Chile! After the green of Patagonia, I needed some contrast. So, I offer these photos of what my ride mostly looked like, to satisfy YOUR curiosity.

  • Penguins at Isla Damas

    8 janvier 2023, Chili ⋅ ☀️ 17 °C

    My second tour involved traveling north to see the endangered Humboldt penguins. I have to reveal at this point that taking tours was more of a necessity than just getting to see places I wouldn’t ordinarily be able to visit alone. It was also because cities in Chile are at this time extremely dangerous—especially for a solo traveler like me. Not only am I spotted in an instant as a foreigner, but will also obviously be carrying a phone, money, and other valuables. An easy target. Tours are the answer for staying in a group, and so far this has worked out quite well: great guides and pleasant company. The only sacrifice is my 50-year tradition of fascinating solo traveling. At least in Chile.

    Back to the penguins. There are now 12,000 mating pairs up and down the coasts of Chile and Peru, and their habitat is disappearing rapidly. We drove north for a little over an hour to the town of Los Choros to board a boat for Isla Damas. On the two-hour ride to and around the island, we saw a fabulous show of wildlife: sea lions, many sorts of terns, two types of cormorants, and—the penguins. The guide on the boat was excellent and could answer any questions. He was commenting on a non-penguin topic—the dangers of a new mining venture trying to start up in the area—as I took a video of the penguins. You can hear Chilean Spanish and watch the lovely creatures at the same time.

    To learn more about the penguins, here is a link:

    https://www.biologicaldiversity.org/species/bir…

    To honor my own wishes, our guide in the van made a stop so we could get out to examine the coastal flora at close range. I found that quite thrilling.

    To celebrate my final night in La Serena a few days later, I invited my always kind and affectionate landlady Paula out for mariscos, sea food, in a favorite restaurant of hers.

    Please enjoy the photos.
    En savoir plus

  • From La Serena: Valle del Elqui

    7 janvier 2023, Chili ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    I had the great fortune of being a kilometer away from an A+ tour agency, so I booked tours for the 2nd and 3rd of January there. I used to be a “tour snob,” trying to find places by myself. This is a good process in large cities where a map and a guidebook are enough, but to see what’s OUT of town, a tour delivers. Both of mine included 14-15 people, we rode in vans, and the drivers were also quite excellent guides who spoke extensively and knowledgeably throughout via a microphone on board.

    The Elqui River empties into the Pacific Ocean two kilometers north of where I was staying. But its origins are in the west Andes, from which it flows into a fertile valley to the west of La Serena. Here a good portion of Chile’s vegetables are grown—especially lettuces, avocados, and olives for olive oil.

    Our first stop was a dam of the river, and we dutifully walked over the top of it. Actually, the first stop of day-long tours is for breakfast—a kind of prize for the night owls who actually got up in time to catch the van.

    To wake us up further, the second stop was at a pisco distillery. Pisco is an unaged brandy made from Chilean (or Peruvian) white grapes, and is distilled (without water) at 38-48 proof. Our tour guide also had extensive knowledge of the process, so we did our thinking before our drinking, to paraphrase a Spanish saying. (“Primero el deber, luego el placer.”) The classic South American cocktail is a “Pisco Sour,” which is pisco with lemon juice and shaken a great deal. We sampled it without the shake-up.

    Other stops were at Vicuña, the birthplace of Gabriela Mistral (Nobel Prize winning poet), lunch in a nearby town, and on the way back, a place to buy goods produced in the valley.

    You can see from the photos that it was quite a lovely trip. I wasn’t my usual chatty self with the other tour members, but stayed quiet and observant for a change. (A big change.)
    Cheers!
    En savoir plus

  • La Serena, second oldest city in Chile

    6 janvier 2023, Chili ⋅ ☀️ 22 °C

    La Serena is a medium-sized city of 250,000, located 248 miles north of Santiago. It is ChiIe’s second-oldest city, with many things of interest to me.

    As it turned out, there was a very nice surprise right across from my Airbnb property: a historic house where the poet Gabriela Mistral lived with her sister, and just behind it, a public library dedicated to her memory. I explored the house with a very knowledgeable guide, and got acquainted with “Gabriela,” as she is known in Chile: the first Latin American author to win the Nobel Prize in literature in 1945, and also an educator, diplomat, and public intellectual. The area of La Serena is full of places where she lived and worked.

    I also walked the short kilometer to the “Faro,” lighthouse for my view of the ocean, back to town to book sightseeing, tours and just. walk around. I headed to the small and excellently arranged Archeological Museum, where I learned about the local indigenous people, the Diaguita, who settled in the area (and also in northern Argentina) from around 900 CE. Such wonderful pottery they produced! There are still 88,474 Diaguitas living in Chile today.

    The city center was given a “Haussmann treatment” 1948-52 to make it homogenously neocolonial, or Spanish Colonial Revival style. It is pleasant enough, and there seems to be enough money in the city coffers to keep the “historical” buildings freshly painted. This is necessary, because there is a plague of graffiti writing and murals on every available wall in the city. Indeed, this graffiti plague (my opinion) is sanctioned by city governments now all over Chile.

    I finally ended my first day in a coffee shop studying Spanish. A wonderful surprise: I found out that José Vasconcelos, the author of our Oaxaca reading circle’s current book, invited Gabriela Mistral to Mexico when he was Minister of Education (1922-24) to establish educational programs. A perfect connection!

    Please enjoy the photos.
    En savoir plus

  • VALPARAISO

    4 janvier 2023, Chili ⋅ ⛅ 19 °C

    My first trip to Chile was in 2019, when I explored from Cochran in North Patagonia up to Santiago. Now I’m finally back, to explore another section of this oddly shaped country. (From north to south, Chile extends 4,270 km, 2,653 mi, yet is only 350 km, 217 mi at its widest point, and averages just 177 km, 110 mi east to west.) This time I’m planning to go north from Santiago (near the middle) and my first stop is in historic Valparaiso.

    I had a truly rough time getting to this, my first destination, due to the domino effect of a 4-hour delay of my first flight from Oaxaca to Mexico City. You will be spared the details, but I missed two flights and arrived a day late, and the culprit was the airlines, AEROMEXICO. Be warned!

    I chose to stay in Valparaiso’s Historic Center (a UNESCO World Heritage Site from 2003) to explore the two cities: the lower town full of official government buildings and banks, and the upper town of steep hills, reached by 140-year-old 10-person elevators. Up on the hills are historic houses and other lavish buildings from Valparaiso’s heyday as a major port—before the Panama Canal was built in 1914. The Museum of Fine Arts is in a former palace; the Museum of Engravings is in a stately home. The hills are truly interesting and beautiful, though some parts are very rundown, filthy, and dangerous.

    The first day I walked along the coast for the entire day. With my binoculars I spied flocks of terns, cormorants, and pelicans, as well as a little sea otter. There was edible tubular kelp called “cochayuyo,” which I ate in Castro, on the island of Chiloe on my first trip to Chile. There were two lighthouses, native cacti and succulents on the hillsides, and even a very long public beach. There was celebration in the air, as January 2nd is also a holiday in Chile. By the time I was ready for lunch, the restaurants were all out of the standard fish, so I had eel! It arrived fried, and quite delicious.

    The second day I visited the Museum of Fine Arts, which is in the art nouveau/deco Palacio Baburizza. They have a collection European art, as well as the Valparaiso art for which I was searching. (See photos) And then to the Natural History Museum for descriptions of flora and fauna of here, Central Chile.

    The third day I visited the Valparaiso Museum of Engraving, which displayed great artistry and variety of techniques. But because of a blooming cold, I rested most of the rest of the day, and felt better on my last morning.

    The prices here are much more than those of Mexico, so I’ve felt some shock. But how pleasant to see cats minding many businesses along the main streets, and a few nice places to drink coffee and study Spanish in the late afternoon. It’s not difficult to be a short-term resident.

    And here, as usual, is a link for further information about the city:
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valparaíso

    Please enjoy the pictures.
    En savoir plus

  • Two Museums I Love in Mexico City

    13 novembre 2022, Mexique ⋅ ⛅ 22 °C

    The National Museum of Anthropology is a place of pilgrimage for me. I visited it as a child just after its creation, then in my twenties, my forties, and now in my seventies. It is a world-class museum, but more importantly, a moving and eloquent homage to the incredible indigenous heritage of Mexico, from thousands of years before the conquest. And it goes much further: it also documents ethnologically the lives and traditions still alive in the indigenous towns of today.

    Enrique and I started off our tour in the Oaxaca section of the museum, where we had left off in April of our previous visit to Mexico City. The ethnology rooms are still under renovation, but the anthropology rooms are resplendent. Although there are 16 indigenous groups in the state of Oaxaca, the museum highlights the Zapotec and Mixtec cultures. We spent two hours there! And, Enrique’s mother being Mixteca, we examined each case with wonder and admiration for his ancestors.

    And then, we skipped many rooms to go to the very last rooms, the Western Desert. The marvelous cases there demand another visit, and soon!

    Here is a link to the museum’s site for your enjoyment:

    https://www.mna.inah.gob.mx

    After a rest and a snack outside, we went to the Museo Nacional de Historia in Chapultepec Castle, in Chapultepec Park. The historical importance of the Cerro del Chapulín, “The Hill of the Chapulín” (grasshopper) goes back thousands of years to the first peoples in the Valley of Mexico, and in many prominent ways, continues to this day. The Castle—originally a church in the 1500’s, briefly became the dwelling of Emperor Maximiliano, then a military college, and then home of Mexican presidents until it was decreed a museum in 1939 by Lázaro Cárdenas.

    Such museum staying power we had! The history of Mexico was presented in chronological order in many rooms, with neutral explanations throughout (or I suspect—they could have been quite radical for many—but what do I know at this point?) Anyway, along with the beautifully mounted historical artifacts, I think it’s an adequate introduction to a complicated subject, and I enjoyed it.

    Such a stimulating and unforgettable day!

    Please enjoy the photos.
    En savoir plus

  • Happy Birthday in Santa Maria la Ribera!

    12 novembre 2022, Mexique ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    For this year’s celebration of Enrique’s birthday, we decided to go to CDMX—Ciudad de México, Mexico City.

    We took the 7-hour bus ride to experience the Tehuacán-Cuicatlán Biosphere Reserve, which stretches from the states of Oaxaca to Puebla. Although we obviously couldn’t jump out of the bus to explore, the views of the columnar cacti forest in the matorral and the Sierra Madre sub-ranges were stunning. The reserve was created in 2012, and it received UNESCO World Heritage Site status in 2018. Is it protected? Supposedly. Let’s hope so. For very interesting information, here is a link:

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tehuacán-C…

    We quickly set ourselves up in our minimalist AirBnb property on Calle Quetzalcóatl in the neighborhood of Tlaxpana, and almost immediately walked three blocks to Enrique’s neighborhood, Santa María la Ribera to eat “huaraches,” fried tortillas in the shape of a sandal, with anything you want on the top. We chose “carne del pastor,” which is a variety of grilled meats cut from a kebab rotisserie. There is much delicious rich food to be had at all times, but we restrain ourselves. Mostly.

    For the next two days, we explored parts of Santa María we couldn’t see on a previous visit, due to COVID. A note: Santa María la Ribera is a very old part of Mexico City, close to the Historic Center.
    Here you can get a bit more information:
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colonia_Santa_Mar…

    “El Chopo” is an architectural marvel, built in Germany in 1902 as a an exhibition hall. It was dismantled and rebuilt on “Poplar Street,” Calle Chopo, to also be an exhibition center. It was bought by UNAM, National Autonomous University of Mexico in 1975, and after much expansion and renovation, was set out as a modern art museum. We saw all of the three exhibits before meeting Enrique’s brother, Rafael, for lunch.
    More information!
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Museo_Universitar…

    The following day, we inched through another UNAM-owned museum, the Museum of Geology. I particularly loved the display cases from 1905, along with the eclectic collections of minerals, gems, volcanic rocks, dinosaur bones, etc. Fascinating.

    And then the Big Day, November 12. Enrique’s niece and I coordinated to have a birthday lunch in “María138,” an Italian restaurant just south of the beautiful neighborhood “alameda.” It is one of my great treasures and joys to be a part of a Mexican family. And birthday celebrations are extremely important! So much fun and congeniality.

    Please enjoy the photos.
    En savoir plus

  • Down to Yosondúa

    13 octobre 2022, Mexique ⋅ 🌧 18 °C

    We left Tlaxiaco, a small city (population 18,900), for Yosondúa, a small town (8,800), on the fourth day of our trip. Our main interest was to get out in the countryside to explore it.

    We arrived by taxi at Yosondúa Natural Park, a narrow canyon with a dramatic waterfall, “La Esmeralda,” and a 140 meter (460 feet) suspension bridge right in front of the falls. We left our luggage in the park office, which is right at the falls, and got ourselves on that spectacular swinging-in-space bridge. And then: how could we NOT spend an inordinate amount of time looking at everything below and above us: the falls, bromeliad-laden “garden trees,” the Sierra del Sur, sun, the roiling rapids at the base of the falls, birds, each other. Binoculars are our great “eye extenders,” well-used as always. From the bridge, we could walk right up to the falls, which was terrifyingly good.

    Walking to our cabaña on a steep and rocky dirt road, I stumbled and fell with all my weight on to my right knee, which bled and swelled to twice its size—still hurting even 24 days after the fall. Never mind, Ibuprophen rescued me to be able to keep walking through the rest of the trip.

    The following day we witnessed the town’s triennial elections. Although voting isn’t mandatory, people are brought in from outlying areas by volunteer drivers of various sizes of trucks, so the total number of votes was 6500 (out of 8500). The first 11 people with the greatest number of votes filled all the town government offices, and the second 11 people with the greatest number of votes were assigned as assistants to each of the officers. (Please see the photo section for the names of the offices, as well as the winners.) The requirement for anyone to run for office was to have a record of public service to the town—with or without having been elected. The new officers have 3 months to prepare for their posts: to confer with former officers, to read the last 3 years’ records of proceedings, and to bone up on all the laws connected to their new jobs.

    Of note: half of the town’s officers had to be women.

    Our guide to all things Yosondúa were residents Edilberto Martínez Sánchez and his good friend Profesor Lorenzo---(Alas, I didn’t write down his last name). They were excellently informative.

    We were guided to “Doña Sebas Café,” which had a long table with plastic stools, a wood fire under three comals, and Doña Sebas (short for “Sebastiana) and her daughter cooking and serving the customers. Under such communal circumstances, the talk of the town flourished day and night. Enrique and I were there several times a day to eat and listen. One man’s comment on the urge to run for office in the election: “It’s said that being elected is like marriage: you want it—oh, how you really crave and want it so much, with all your heart. And then when you get elected, oh, you want so so badly to leave—to just get out!” (He was refering to how difficult it actually was, to my understanding.) A middle-aged nurse came early for breakfast, dressed in pretty local garments and bright red low pumps. When she finished, she jumped up to help Doña Sebas to clean up the café after election day’s total overuse. Such is the town spirit of community service.

    There is also no private farming property. All is communal land, parceled out to people applying to the proper town authority. It is similar to the egido system of Meso-America.

    After the excitement of election day, and resting my poor knee, we went on a long afternoon hike with Edilberto up to 2400 meters (7400 feet) for splendid views of the Sierra Sur, and the valley below. And the following day was spent with Profesor Lorenzo, visiting viewpoints, and a home harboring a herd of domesticated small native deer—raised by a family to interest visitors. It wasn’t just a tourist attraction, but an opportunity for the eldest daughter Aketzali, studying wildlife biology at university in Oaxaca de Juarez, to explain the region’s biodiversity and ecology.

    We returned to Tlaxiaco the next day, to attend a few hours of fiesta before returning home from our idyll to our big city home.

    Please enjoy the photos and videos!
    En savoir plus

  • Part One: Tlaxiaco, the Heroic City

    10 octobre 2022, Mexique ⋅ ☁️ 19 °C

    We planned a trip to Tlaxiaco (pronounced “tla-hee-AH-ko”) because Enrique was interested in visiting his mother’s birthplace for the first time since he was a not-so-observant 8-year-old. I was interested in everything about it, as I’d never been to in La Mixteca—one of the eight regions in the State of Oaxaca. It is a 3-hour van drive from Oaxaca de Juarez (capital of the state) where we live. We settled into an AirBnb property in the still-rural north of town, amidst cornfields and baa-ing sheep.
    Here you can find out basic information about Tlaxiaco:
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tlaxiaco


    We explored the town center, with its newly renovated Clock Tower (it took a year) and the Cultural Center, where a charismatic young man taught a large class of young girls to dance “El torito,” (“Little Bull”) famous in La Mixteca. We began our quest to find some of Enrique’s mother’s relatives, members of the Murcio family. We were steered to two sections of the city where this family of business people and ironmongers lived, and in one of them we found a woman who knew all about them. On the following night, she arranged that we spend time with a Señor Carlos Emiliano Murcio Santos, who gave Enrique a run-down of every single Murcio he knew. When they parted in an affectionate embrace, Carlos called Enrique “cousin.”

    For the next two days, we took local “tours.” First we went to the magnificent Hualmelúlpam Arqueological site, with its pavilions and ball courts in the midst of native plant meadows. You have to understand that the flowers, shrubs, trees, and insects are just as important to us as the Mixtec ruins, so we poked around for hours. Unfortunately, the museum was locked up, and the key bearer nowhere to be found.

    The next day we took a taxi—first to the village of Santa Catarina Tayaka, home of our driver/guide, Pablo. In the village we ate breakfast, and then inspected the renovation of the local church-- of great interest, as the renovation of Enrique’s house in Oaxaca of the same period proceeds. (Early 19th century.) Our second stop was a “mirador,” outlook view of the countryside, which was quite impressive—but all the plants, trees and flowers were also stunning: a Garden of Eden! Finally we came to the partially-restored Ex-Convent of Achutla, on the “Route of the Dominicans.” In case you’re not aware, it took the Spaniards only a short time after the Conquest (1521) to cover the Mesoamerican lands south of Mexico City with three-story high and 1-2 block long churches and monasteries. They were built by forcing the conquered peoples to use the same hewn stones of their own cities to build the churches right on top. A sickeningly devastating ruin of a civilization.

    I love the poke-around explorations that we did. My old “motto,” “The bear went over the mountain to see what she could see,” is still in operation, but expanded with a second: “You never know…”

    Please enjoy the photos and videos.
    En savoir plus

  • Three Oaxaca Afternoons

    26 mai 2022, Mexique ⋅ ☁️ 19 °C

    Oaxaca and environs have so much variety to offer! I enjoy such rich stimulation—especially with the very low numbers of COVID cases right now. To give you an idea of what there is to do, I highlight three afternoons for you.

    The first, Sunday May 15th, Enrique and I went to the Arts Center in the town of San Augustin, Etla. Etla is a “districto”—county—to the west of the city of Oaxaca, and San Augustin is one of many “municipios”—towns—in that county. The Arts Center is an old textile factory, now housing printing and paper making workshops, as well as two large gallery spaces. We visited the galleries first, and as admittance to the workshops wasn’t allowed, we explored the impressive plantings outside. We lunched in a family home converted to a restaurant, and for dessert we had a conversation with the grandmother about life in San Agustin.

    Two Sundays later on May 23rd, we were back in the Sierra Norte in the hamlet of El Punto for more walking—from 8200 to 6500 feet and back. This was a very slow four-hour hike, in which we examined every bromeliad-covered tree along the way. Before the hike we ate barbequed mutton on black bean-smothered thick corn tortillas, dressed with green, red, and avocado salsas. This was in a 5-table outdoor restaurant with a precipitous mountain view. After the hike we returned to the restaurant, and had “agua de zarzamora,” blackberry juice thinned to a delicious liter of icy fruited water, and a tiny blade of blackberry cheesecake.

    Finally, on May 25, we walked from Enrique’s house to “Cuchillos Aragón,” workshop of Guillermo Aragón, a “metalistero.” This is an invented word, indicating an artist of metal, but he is actually an artist of forging blades for work or decoration: knives, daggers, swords, machetes, scythes, etc. His family goes back to six generations of artisans. Here is a link to a history of their work: https://fahho-mx.translate.goog/los-cuchillos-d….

    There, my treasured Misono professional chef’s knife was re-shaped and sharpened by the master himself. He is also a gentleman of the older generations of Mexican society, “un gran caballero.”

    On the way back, we stopped to admire the Wednesday afternoon “Danzón in the Zócalo.” Danzón is a formal dance originating in Cuba. Perhaps after seeing the video I took, you might want more information! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Danzón#Mex…

    I do so love living here! And I hope you enjoy the photos which illustrate this description.
    En savoir plus

  • A Weekend in the Sierra Norte

    12 mai 2022, Mexique ⋅ ☀️ 20 °C

    Hello Everyone! It’s been 13 months since I wrote my first post in my new home of Oaxaca. I’ve found that International Living takes a lot of psychic energy. It is as different from traveling as listening to violin playing is from actually playing the violin. In other words, I’ve been busy learning how to BE in Mexico. Now I’m ready to write about it.

    I manage my own apartment, first rented as an Airbnb property from hosts Paulina and Julián. In April 2021 I became an actual renter, separate from Airbnb, and have remained so. I now have friends, a team of doctors and a dentist for my every need, markets and shops to patronize, a Mexican bank account, a “Circle of Mexican Literature” which I formed, and most importantly, a dear Mexican pareja named Enrique.

    Enrique and I have been a couple since March 2021. We started traveling together last year. Now, as I restart writing in this blog, I feature our latest excursion to the Sierra Norte, to Ixtlán, about two hours and 400 curves into the mountains from Oaxaca. With us were my great friend Vicky and her daughter Estefanía. I hope you enjoy the photos!
    En savoir plus

  • I Have a New Home!

    15 avril 2021, Mexique ⋅ ⛅ 25 °C

    Hello Everyone, and welcome back to my Experiment in International Living. After a very long gap in communication, I would like to catch you up.

    As with every single one of us, the pandemic has changed our lives significantly. In
    my case, I have stopped living in different countries for three or more months at a time, and
    have stayed in Oaxaca, Mexico, which is, naturally, still “being abroad.”

    A week ago I returned from a trip to the US—Alexandria, Virginia—to get both of my Pfizer vaccines, see dear friends, take care of my taxes, and initiate a big change in my life. I first arranged with the Mexican Consulate in Washington D.C. to obtain a visa to become a permanent resident in Mexico. To do this, I had to be retired, or over 62 years of age, and prove that I wouldn’t be a financial burden on the country. I was able to receive this visa, and three days after I returned to Oaxaca, on April 9, 2021, I received the crucial card to become a Permanent Resident.

    Jubilation!

    What does this mean? It means that I can do everything that a Mexican can do except vote. (Never mind, I shall continue to do that in the US.) I can work, move about the country, and come and go as I please, internationally. I am an honorary citizen, which I consider a significant honor. I have loved Mexico all my life—its states, its cultures, and above all, Mexicans themselves. Here, I feel that my sentiments are reciprocated fully and warmly. I have indeed “come home.”

    I am in the process of sorting out my life here—mostly doing what I did before my trip to the States. Since I was the polyglot winner of my latest Fluent in 3 Months language challenge, I decided to keep up with my Thai and Chinese studies, as well as to review Japanese, French, and Japanese in casual ways. We don’t know when international travel can safely begin again, and I don’t anticipate it will be as free as it once was for years. So, here’s to my International Life in Oaxaca!
    Here are links to my Fluent in 3 Months “winning” conversations:
    Thai: https://youtu.be/nNGCAM94qNo
    Chinese: https://youtu.be/LI7WGA6kxk0

    There is so much to learn here in Oaxaca, and in Mexico! I need another couple of lifetimes.

    Anyway, love to you all, and please leave your name if you care to leave a message.
    En savoir plus

  • Second Quarantine—in Oaxaca, Mexico

    13 septembre 2020, Mexique ⋅ 🌧 21 °C

    I chose to come to Oaxaca because the state and city (same name) seemed to be handling the COVID virus better than many states in Mexico, and because I’ve stayed here two times before.

    I even am staying in the same AirBnb apartment. My hosts, Paulina and Julian, picked me up at the airport, and brought me back to my very familiar surroundings for another 14-day self-quarantine—something that is not required by the city or state government. Comfort! Space! Solitude! After six and a half months of living together with others, I am finally alone again.

    The quarantine was not difficult. The apartment is long—24 strides—so I walked a brisk 3-4 miles daily, as well as 250 steps every hour. The “cure” for the “Sitter’s Thick Torso” is to walk quickly for at least 10 minutes at a time, 3 times a day. Oh, and to avoid sugar and excess food! Paulina—totally by her own wishes—brought me some “almuerzo,” lunch, at around 5 pm daily—lunch is late here in Oaxaca—see the photos to see what came. She also did my shopping for me. A lovely person.

    And of course, my language studies continued, with the same full schedule as before. Thai, Chinese, Japanese, Italian, French, and now Spanish, of course. The new addition to my schedule is hosting two “Language Parties,” in Italian and Japanese. These are hour-long opportunities to practice speaking, joined by members of my language-learning community.

    On September 10th the quarantine ended, and I was FREE! Free to walk outside the apartment, on to the streets of Oaxaca. But I want to emphasize something important. My being here isn’t a “fun adventure trip” “on the road again” type of circumstance. Oaxaca is hushed with fear, and 80% of the businesses are locked up. Nothing is going on. I am just happy and grateful to be able to be in comfortable surroundings, with kind people, living my life as optimistically as possible.

    Love to you all!
    En savoir plus

  • Score: Homestay 99.99%, USA 10%

    25 août 2020, États Unis ⋅ ⛅ 29 °C

    A serene and pleasant home stay here in Laurel, Maryland is coming to an end. The imperfection of the score of this blog post title is due to the one person whose mask fell below her nose at a local supermarket, and an unwilling mask-wearer who made fun of me at a gas station. Nothing to do with my home stay, actually, except that the unpleasant violation of Maryland’s COVID safety rules took place in the neighborhood. Otherwise, we have been safe.

    I have spent the last two months with old friends, in a lovely big home in a quiet and friendly suburban neighborhood. I have been able to keep up my language studies—adding Chinese to the mix—with lessons, conversations, “language parties,” and interactions with other learners every day. I’ve also been able to see my local Maryland friends, either with online calls, or even in person once or twice.

    Despite daily exercise consisting of 60 minutes of walking outside, 30 minutes of yoga alternating with weight training, and 250+ steps per hour, my sedentary life has caused “The Sitter’s Fat Torso.” Damn! I shall have to up my movement game—and perhaps lower my sedentary time and a bit of my food intake—in my next location.

    My wonderful hosts have made me feel comfortable and welcome, and have enabled me to continue with my life in this worldwide emergency. I have a keen awareness of how difficult it is for a family to adjust to an “other” who comes to live with them: all are driven by circumstance, but still must deal with an unbalancing factor to lives already stressed by the ever-changing exigencies of the pandemic. Here, my hosts treated this factor with open communication and grace, for which I shall be ever grateful.

    So, on to the continuation of this “interim of the unknown” in Oaxaca, Mexico. I’ll be back in my apartment from last year, with Paulina and Julian, my hospitable Airbnb hosts. I’ll talk to you soon from there!
    Love to all,
    Dorée

    Here are a few photos, videos, and other “curiosities.” If you leave a comment, please leave your first name as well.
    En savoir plus

  • Three and a Half Months and Counting

    17 juin 2020, États Unis ⋅ 🌙 16 °C

    I hope that this “postcard” finds all you doing well under these extraordinary circumstances. I think of you, and know that I’m way overdue in sending you a blog. I apologize for the delay.

    Although I’m sure that my story of sheltering in place and lockdown is mostly the same as all of you, I have been working hard at being my usual eccentric self. I am still with my sister and brother-in-law in Altadena, California, but in the time of my daily life, I have been living in——

    Thailand, France, Mexico, Japan, Chile, and Italy! My 3-month multi-language challenge, AKA “Fluent in Three Months Polyglot Challenge” is just ending. It has been a remarkably cheerful and exhilarating experience. My original purpose was to resurrect a few of my “better” long-lost languages, i.e., those that I spoke fairly well in the past. As you can imagine, “serial monogamy” doesn’t work well for languages, and continually leaving one language for another over a forty-year period left a string of nine abandoned and forgotten loves.

    Enter POLYGLOTISM! I took Thai, my newest language, and introduced three others: Italian, Japanese, and French for the Challenge. What I had to do was straightforward: prepare a video each week in the language(s) of my choice, and discover how to improve. As an independent learner, I had the moral support of other challengers, but only a few hints regarding what to do.

    I found tutors for Japanese, French, and Italian, kept my group of Thai teachers and language exchange partners, and studied all of these languages every day—50% of my time to Thai, 20% to Japanese and Italian, and 10% to French, which was the “easiest.”

    So , after reading horrific reports about COVID-19 in the newspapers every morning, I went into my study, and for the rest of the day, lived in The World. There’s really too much to tell, but if you’re interested, here are links to what I think are my “most interesting” videos. There are also a few photos below those links which are unrelated to language learning.

    Love to you all! (And if you leave a comment, please be sure to sign your first name.)

    LINKS to Polyglot Videos—which all have SUBTITLES in English!
    1. Day Zero Video: Thai plus Three Abandoned Loves: In Thai, Italian, French and Japanese
    https://youtu.be/NLJB-ytxZEw

    2. Week 8: What I learned from Japan and Thailand —50 years apart: In Japanese and Thai
    https://youtu.be/DKNa7qYXYjs

    3. Week 9:Gardening (in Thai) and a horrible experience in French usage (in French)
    https://youtu.be/8NUBz3KVpHk

    4.Week 10: Speaking 5 languages, switching every 30 seconds, telling my life history in 4 minutes!
    https://youtu.be/DKNa7qYXYjs

    5. Day 90 Videos—15+ minutes conversations with native speakers
    Thai—about our parents’ professions (secrets revealed herein):
    https://youtu.be/D-0_6wEvkAA

    Japanese—did my life and my teacher’s run parallel? (More secrets revealed):
    https://youtu.be/D-0_6wEvkAA

    Italian—what professions did we choose? https://youtu.be/2Gv1OwntKcE

    French—our lives as readers: https://youtu.be/hh5fGtYEA68
    En savoir plus

  • This is not Morocco

    5 mars 2020, États Unis ⋅ ☀️ 23 °C

    The threat of the corona virus, COVID-19, caused Morocco to close its borders to all incoming flights today—including mine—so I was forced to do what is probably the smartest choice of all at this time: stay put. So, where am I? I left Chiang Mai on March 5, changed planes in Taipei, Taiwan, and landed at Los Angeles International Airport on the afternoon of the same day. From there, I went to my sister’s house in Altadena, California, and that’s where “put” is.

    I spent a week with Michelle and Jim, which was tense with increasingly foreboding news about the spread of the virus and the closing down of borders and public life in country after country. It was also a delightful week—with a last splash of public activity: a marmalade-and-bread-making party with Michelle’s writing students from UCLA (University of California at Los Angeles), a reading at UCLA of young writers and poets, trips to markets and coffee shops, and visits from friends.

    At 3 AM on the morning of March 15th, Morocco shut down its borders, and there went my plans for the next three months. I had been thinking that waiting out the pandemic in Morocco might be interesting, but reality finally gave me the scare I needed to be sensible. So, flights and lodging were cancelled, and I am very lucky to be safe, in a beautiful place, and with my family. The governor of California told all of us who are over 65 to stay at home and cook. (Hmmm...) So now we’re hunkered down together—dog and cat included. I am extremely grateful to my sister and brother-in-law for their kindness.

    As luck would have it, a few weeks ago I decided to join the Fluent in Three Months Challenge as a polyglot challenger. From March 16th on, I shall be trying to improve my Thai, French, and Italian—with servings of Spanish and Japanese on the side. Moroccan Arabic will unfortunately have to wait.

    I hope all of you are keeping safe. Do stay in touch. If you leave a comment here on this blog, please leave your first name. Love to you all, Dorée
    En savoir plus

  • Ayutthaya Redux

    18 février 2020, Thaïlande ⋅ ☁️ 30 °C

    I decided to return to the ancient capital of Ayutthaya, almost a year after my first visit. (See this site, the trip “Thailand Challenge,” footprint “My Heart Remains in Ayutthaya.”) I wanted to stay at my former Airbnb property, with Nick, the brilliant cook, and Tom, her Russian husband, and Thai language expert—to catch up, get ideas for my studies, and roam around in a relaxed manner.

    I enjoyed biking to the beautiful ruins again, mourning the destruction of what must have been a sumptuous capital. Those awful Burmese—they just wouldn’t stop invading and conquering kingdoms in Thailand—Sukhothai, Lanna, Ayutthaya.

    There are two National Museums in Ayutthaya. This year I went to the smaller of the two, which features a very precious collection of antiquities donated by Mr. Praya Botan Rajatanin, housed in what was formally a residence for royalty traveling to Ayutthaya in the late 19th century. I enjoyed it, as it was a very understated royal residence, as such things go, and the collection of Buddhist statues, religious relics, and other historical items was small and well-chosen.

    I was told by Tom to go visit the Phananchoen Temple, in the southeast corner of the historic area—a Chinese temple with an enormous gold Buddha and an excellent library of ancient Buddhist texts. It took me two days to find it, as I let myself be led astray to walk wherever my curiosity led me, but finally, there I was. Yes, indeed there was a truly giant Buddha, shining in gold, and very impressive. But where was the library? I asked four people, then a fifth and a sixth—but no one knew. Finally a kind monk visiting from Bangkok asked someone for me, and the answer was, “It’s under repair,” and that was the end of that. But not quite. The monk sent me an article and a YouTube clip showing the demise of the library in a terrible fire in April, 2012. The news was barely mentioned at the time, and now seems completely forgotten. An unimaginable tragedy. Here is link to the video of the fire: https://youtu.be/pighMrD9UAg

    Ayutthaya offered me many opportunities to really practice my Thai. I took my breakfasts and dinners at Tom and Nick’s restaurant, and Tom kindly steered some of his regular Thai customers to my table to sit down and have a chat! And of course my street shenanigans never stopped. All in all, it was a very very pleasant stay.

    I was horrified when my plane descended into the black smoke and pollution covering Chiang Mai, but hey! I was home, and glad to get back to my routine.

    I hope you like the pictures, and please remember to sign your first name if you leave a comment.
    En savoir plus

  • Chainat? Why not?

    10 février 2020, Thaïlande ⋅ 🌙 30 °C

    Although I’m on a perpetual vacation called “Retirement,” I decided that before leaving Thailand this year, I really needed a vacation from Chiang Mai and my 6-month-long study regimen there. So I looked carefully at the central region of Thailand where the standard Thai dialect is spoken, and found a small city that is really not famous for anything. Why? Because I didn’t want to run into tourists and other foreigners—to be in the “real” THAILAND—and just speak Thai.

    I flew to the huge domestic airport in Bangkok, Dom Mueang, took a bus to the northern bus terminal, Mochit, and from there rode for four hours to Chainat, capital of the province of Chainat. It is an ancient place, having more success in beating off the Burmese invaders in the Ayutthaya Period than Ayutthaya itself (13th and 14th centuries) , but now is unfortunately very low in the United Nations Human Development Program for Thailand: 75th out of 77 provinces—yikes! However, for me it ranks very highly because of sparse population, MUCH cleaner air, very friendly and hospitable people, and much bird life.

    I went on my first day to see the town’s big feature, the “Bird Park,” which has a water park , an aquarium, an “Egg Museum,” and a giant aviary, among other features. With my binoculars, I entered the aviary—the only person there. What a strange place! There were dozens of herons perched on the outside netting, looking to get in, while the “residents” of the aviary seemed quite contented to be there, although there were gaping holes in some places where they could leave if they wished. No matter, the entire area attracts bird life, so there were nests in the nearby trees, as well as in the enclosure. I spotted some small “hiiwa,” the giant water lizards (Asian water monitor) of the area, as well as ancient and very large iguanas—definitely brought in from the Americas. At any rate, I have been bereft of wildlife for seven months, so it was an utterly absorbing and fascinating few hours.

    The following day, I went walking—first in the morning around and down to the Chao Phraya River, and then into town—a total of eleven miles—24 kilometers. I walked, I chatted, I looked, I stopped to study Thai—just a normal day of wandering. Except that the temperature heated up to 100 F, 38 C, so as I walked I “showered myself” as is normal in Thailand. (Did you get the “shower myself?” It means with sweat. But oh, that wonderful REAL shower at the end of the day—such a relief!!)

    My last full day was more of the same, but with more studying Thai and striking up conversations with the residents. I am not as enthusiastic about the “cold conversations” as I used to be, as I’m sensitive to the fact that if people are working, I will be bothering them. Yet it is with the unexpected conversations that the real improvisation of speaking, using my vocabulary, listening to peoples’ stories, and getting used to the spoken language occurs. Regrettably, I feel I have gone backward with my speaking, while forward with my reading and writing.

    So, at a café, as I studied my new Thai speaking exercise about anonymous benevolence, I noticed some young college students next to me, so I started a conversation with one of them. She was eighteen, very pretty, very articulate, and encouragingly friendly. When I showed her my current exercise, she said, “If you stop reading that, and only speak with people like me, you will really know Thai.” I fell into an instant depression at hearing that: how could it be that 68-year-old me could speak with 18-year-olds like her? Or with anyone? I’m just a retired person, and everyone is busy. What’s the use? May as well give it all up. Besides, it’s hellishly HOT!

    I continued feeling low, as I walked around the town at high noon, finally finding a secluded place behind a hotel, sitting down in breezy shade to have a nap before my next bout of studying. Before walking home, I went to a large outdoor market, and chatted with vendors, taking pictures. At one stall, a woman started asking me lots of questions—rather like an interrogation: where are you from, why do you speak Thai, how long have you been studying, why did you come here to Chainat, what do you like about it, where are you going next, etc. People gathered around to hear my answers, until I felt like a country preacher. When she finally stopped with the questions, everyone smiled, laughed, and praised me, and I moved on, feeling much better about it all. Another chapter in my Experiment in International Living.

    I hope you enjoy the pictures, and please don’t forget to leave your first name if you write a comment.
    En savoir plus

  • My Two Chiang Mai Neighborhoods

    19 janvier 2020, Thaïlande ⋅ ☀️ 29 °C

    On December 27 I moved from my seventh-story two-room apartment in Jade Tower in the Chang Klan District to a fourth-story large one-room apartment in the Night Bazaar Condotel—still in Chang Klan, but one and a half kilometers to the north. I moved because Jade Tower’s absent Chinese owner (a man? a woman?) decided to raise the rent by $300 a month to squeeze the high season’s potential earnings. I had other things to do with that $300.

    Jade Tower was probably the first moderately tall building to ruin the pleasant suburb-in-the-fields atmosphere of Chang Klan. As explained to me by my friend “Aw” (Thais do have interesting nicknames) the clutch of generous three-story upper middle class houses to which she moved as a child were considered out in the country. But not for long. A half a century later, all hell broke loose, enormous twelve-to-twenty story hotels were built in the district, tourists poured in, as did fat street-food-fed brown rats, and there went the neighborhood.

    Still, any neighborhood in Chiang Mai is OK by me, because all I want to do is practice Thai with my street friends and study Thai in my apartment and in coffee shops. In Jade Tower, at 5:30 each morning, I climbed the ten flights of stairs four times—taking the elevator down to protect my knees—and then walked fast, and eventually jogged, three big loops in the traffic-free lane in back of the building. I usually studied Thai until after lunch in the apartment, and then headed out in an eleven to fifteen kilometer perambulation to my favorite coffee shops. I am a restless student, and can’t bear coupling intense concentration with the monotonous sameness of my dwelling. As I walked, I made chains of street friends along the way. “Where is the cat? How’s business? You look so pretty today! Where are the kittens? Why didn’t anyone take that dead rat away? A bag of boiled peanuts, please. That smells good!” Some of my conversation starters.

    I chose the Airbnb property in Night Bazaar Condotel mainly because it was newly-renovated and cheap—$544 per month. It is set on a narrow soi parallel to Chang Klan Road, and the famous Night Bazaar, which is a huge and busy market of sleazy-to-acceptable goods in small stalls, street food-type eateries, a few cabarets and a small Thai kick-boxing arena. The bazaar effectively blocks the smooth flow of traffic from 4 pm to midnight, so motorists in a hurry use my little soi as their detour. Hence its new moniker, “the filthy little soi,” I have bestowed upon it.

    Instead of taking lungfuls of polluted air, traversing a surprising variety of uneven pavements begging for a fall, and facing the ever-present danger of alpha street dogs, I decided to exercise healthfully by joining a gym. Across from the filthy little soi is a branch of the famous Dusit Hotel chain, and on the tenth floor is a beautiful gym. Anti-gym Huneven joined with a New Year promotion, and I have been going at 6 am every morning since.

    It is now mid-January, and the “cold season” is becoming the “pollution season.” A town once placed in a bucolic valley, the city of Chiang Mai is now strangling on the exhaust of thousands of unregulated vehicles, coagulating in an inversion layer of tamped-down poisonous air. I am crazy to stay here. But I had to send off for a new passport—having used up all of my old passport’s pages in only three years—so I can’t go anywhere without my new document.

    Well, never mind. The thing about Thai people is that their charm, easy-going politeness, sense of humor and eagerness to engage in conversation blinds me to the fault of a seemingly conscience-less approach to civic duty. However, having an attendant ram an emissions detector up the exhaust pipe of any thúk-thúk in Chiang Mai at a Department of Motor Vehicles Inspection Station—and then promptly removing the stinker from the road—is my most elaborately-developed fantasy.

    No wonder I start longing for beautiful countryside! I’m off on March 6th.

    Please enjoy the photos, and sign your first name if you leave a comment.
    En savoir plus

  • Meeting up with Family in Hanoi Vietnam

    6 décembre 2019, Vietnam ⋅ ☀️ 21 °C

    A completely unexpected event in my Experiment in International Living has now happened again: my family came across the world so we could meet. First, my sister Michelle joined me in Oaxaca last July; then she and her husband Jim planned a trip to Vietnam, and invited me to join them in Hanoi this December. A scant forty-five minutes’ strong tail wind flight from Chiang Mai, and there I was in Hanoi airport! (It is worth noting that one can get a visa-on-arrival in Vietnam, but it takes a good hour at the airport AND takes up an entire page on one’s passport.) Never mind the red tape—it was a delight to be together. Michelle and Jim shared a sumptuous room with me in the five-star Hotel L’Opera in Hanoi.

    I realized that nearly half a century has passed since the terrible strife of the VietnamWar, and I know many people who have happily visited Vietnam since its end. Yet I still dreaded a confrontation with my past—remembering Vietnamese students studying at the University of Southern California when I was there in 1970-72, and how they wept in the shrouded darkness of their rooms as they learned of the destruction of their country; how we protested the war every day; how the Americans were finally defeated, and the South Vietnamese as well. Michelle and Jim had a guide in Saigon who told them it took him many years of research on his own to realize that the American War (as it’s called in Vietnam) was also a Vietnamese civil war.

    Well, capitalism is alive and well in this communist capital. I did no reading in preparation for my five days’ stay, so I have no idea of the real story, but it LOOKS as though entrepreneurship is big. And so is a feeling of hospitality and friendliness extended by the Vietnamese to their American visitors. I loved it, and was writhing in frustration at not being able to say more in Vietnamese than “hello, my name is Dorée, thank you, I love you”—the last being for a joke.

    We did a great deal of walking in the French Quarter of Hanoi the evening of my arrival, and then spent the next two days on our own private boat in lovely Halong Bay. Our crew of three waited on us with courtesy and attention, and the three of us were able to chat and catch up in relaxation and good cheer.

    I offer you only these details from my point of view, because my sister Michelle wrote a blog about their two-week stay in Vietnam, which I will share with you. The link below is to Hanoi and Ha Long Bay, but the rest of the trip can be accessed as well. I hope you enjoy her writerly descriptions, as well as Jim’s photos.

    http://www.michellehuneven.com/vietnamblog/2019…

    And oh! Here are some photos of mine as well.

    And oh! Here are some photos of mine as well.
    En savoir plus

  • Quiet Adventures in Learning Thai-Landia

    20 novembre 2019, Thaïlande ⋅ ☀️ 30 °C

    OK, where were we? Way back at the beginning of October in Vientiane Laos. Here’s a catch-up. Back in Chiang Mai and all during the month of October, I was buried in eight weekly Thai lessons and tons of conversation and reading practice. Toward the end of the month I woke up and realized that there was an enormous amount of material to digest, so in November I decided to stop all lessons and review.

    Well, that stage lasted exactly two weeks, though I filled out over 150 flash cards with new vocabulary, and listened to and took notes from recorded lessons given by my most colorful teacher Andy. I went over my readings. By mid-November I was listless and sinking into the first trough of my two-year experiment in international living. A pernicious thought parked itself in my consciousness: “Why aren’t Thai people rushing in to embrace me and take care of me and show me everything about Thailand after I have studied Thai SO MUCH?” No one was paying attention to me at all.

    It took falling even lower, until a phone call to a wise friend finally jolted me to realize that I was suffering from “Cultural Entitlement.” So I stopped that, and became pro-active. I enlisted a new face-to-face teacher to speak with twice a week. I went on the excellent internet teacher source, italki, where I found a wryly eccentric young woman in Bangkok to converse with me twice a week. And I kept my lovely teacher in northeast Thailand for our twice-weekly chats. All this was just for talking. In regard to reading, I hooked up with my very first teacher from last year to guide me to high-level reading ability via original material. A brilliant teacher and an inspired decision on my part.

    My new approach is to digest each reading lesson before I schedule another one. But for conversation, my policy is to keep talking as much as possible. This is to start to create fluency and ease. Well, maybe too much ease. I encountered a man from my neighborhood in a far-off supermarket. He introduced me to his estranged wife. She took me to a deserted aisle and described how he had left her, BUT her evangelical Christianity put her in a euphoria that took her to Jerusalem, even though her house had just burned down, and she felt just FINE. At one of my coffee shops, I saw another man, whose wife wasn’t with him that day. He came over to talk to me. After I told him that my passion was learning foreign languages, he told me his passion was everything about air conditioners. Yes! Installing them perfectly, designing new inner mechanisms, teaching students to do the same, and loving every minute. Such a new perspective everyone should receive.

    When I was eighteen and studying the Suzuki violin method in Japan, families of violin students I observed, or English students, would take me places and show me things. I have had a small taste of that in Thailand, but not much. So, to get things started, I asked the manager of the nearby drag cabaret company if he would let me watch a rehearsal of his troupe. They practice a rare rehearsal scheme, if I’m not mistaken. After the show ends each night at around 11:30 PM, the audience leaves, and the girls and guys prepare a completely new show for the next night. They start rehearsing in the middle of the night! Although I shall risk contracting a serious illness by staging an all-nighter, I am going to watch the entire show AND rehearsal tomorrow night. I’m determined to discover their secrets. You’ll have to wait for the next blog post to read my report.

    Enjoy the pictures, which have nothing to do with language learning. And please don’t forget to sign your first name if you leave a comment.
    En savoir plus

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