Posted on

Nijo Castle light show, Kimono Roboto, and packaged eyeballs

To make up for a lazy day of zero exploration, we finally dragged ourselves out of the hotel after nightfall to see the light show at nearby Nijo Castle. Everything from the massive, stately walls, to the cherry blossom trees and gardens was aglow, and there was a light show on a towering wooden gate reminiscent of Miyazaki’s magical Spirited Away with flying birds, dragons and swirling cherry blossom petals.  And, of course, because Japan would not be Japan without something a little futuristic and weird, there was a multi-media show called Kimono Roboto with a moving C3P0-type robot in a kimono flanked by two twisted, blob-like robotic arms. The footage behind them alternated between close-ups of gleaming robot heads and staggeringly gorgeous models in kimono strolling a moody beach. For just a flicker, I felt the same dazzle that I felt eons ago photographing NY Fashion Week, and I felt happy.

Afterwards we shopped for food. It was a treat seeing shoppers in kimono as if it were the most normal thing in the world. But then we discovered a package of what looked liked clear eyeballs in the refrigerated section next to seaweed and potato salad. I couldn’t even bring myself to google what they might be.

Posted on

Extreme cuteness in Toyko’s Harajuku, petting owls, and Meiji Shrine

We finally made it to Tokyo! Since Elise is a girly-girl, our first foray into the city was to Harajuku, ground zero for über kawaii toys, clothes, candy and necessary accessories such as bunny ears for your cat.

We happened upon a crowd oohing and awwing over these life-size dancing bear characters and their little chick friend. The chick accidentally tipped over and the reaction was as if a real baby had fallen.

Elise found a froofy dress she loved in a little boutique. I was afraid I was going to have to say No, but a 70% discount meant it was within our budget. As she came out of the store excitedly clutching her bag, Japanese ladies walking by beamed at me and said “Kawaiiiiiiiiiiiiii!”

We then happened upon a cat “forest”. We sat on the floor while Bengal cats curled up on our laps. Instead of music, the soothing sound of twittering birds was piped through hidden speakers. It was supremely relaxing, and the perfect break from the thronged streets outside. We thought fondly of Chaos, the Bengal cat that lives across from my Mom.

Downstairs from the cat cafe was an owl forest, with a dozen or so owls perched on branches throughout a phony cherry blossom forest. Elise felt like she was a character in Harry Potter. We were instructed to pet the owls only with the back of our hands. I couldn’t believe that we were allowed to touch these beautiful creatures! It was a rare treat being able to look into their eyes and to feel the astonishing softness of their feathers, but I worried about their well-being and hoped that all visitors were closely supervised.

We then made our way to splendid Yoyogi Park to see Meiji-jitsu, the Shinto shrine dedicated to the deified spirits of Emperor Meiji and Empress Shōken. At the entrance, Elise purified her hands with water using a bamboo dipper.

A tiny Japanese girl in a kimono was posing for photos while her parents looked on proudly. It seemed that it was expected that everyone photograph her – that not doing so was actually impolite. We guessed that she was part of the wedding that was in progress at the shrine.

On our way out, we stopped for dango, sweet rice flour dumplings, which were gooey and icky sweet. Feeling the effects of jetlag, we picked up sushi for dinner to eat at the hotel, and then fell into a deep sleep…until 2am.

Posted on

Elise’s first published article in Rabbel Magazine!

Elise’s first article, “If Not Now, Then When?”, has just come out! She wrote about facing fears while traveling the world. The article appeared in Rabbel Magazine, a new quarterly print magazine for fierce-hearted girls aged 7-13, replacing stereotype-heavy narratives with inspiring, uplifting, and validating content focused on creativity and global role models. The mission is not only inspiring, but the artwork and layout are gorgeous. If you’ve got a young, fierce-hearted daughter, a subscription would make a great gift. https://rabbelmag.com/

Posted on

Street markets of La Paz

We left the steamy Amazon behind and returned to brisk, bustling La Paz. Flying saved time and offered a glimpse of the Cordillera Real, but also eliminated the adventure – this time there were no edible insects, no smashed mirrors…and no driver wearing a top that said ‘Bridesmaid’.

We saw what might have real bridesmaids, though, at the airport, in long, fringed shawls and jaunty bowler hats.

Around the corner from our hostel in La Paz was a sprawling street market. I absolutely loved the faces in the crowd.

Posted on

La Senda Verde animal refuge

We visited La Senda Verde, a 22 acre animal refuge in the semi-tropical Yungas region of Bolivia north of La Paz. This is beautiful Mara, a rescued spider monkey. When she was a baby, a poacher killed her mother so that he could capture Mara and sell her. But as her mother died, she fell on Mara’s legs, paralyzing her from the waist down.

Marcello, co-founder of La Senda Verde, rescued her from the poacher and then spent two years caring for the terrified, injured baby. Her legs and tail still have no feeling and need to be bandaged so that she doesn’t hurt herself as she drops down from swinging or drags herself along the ground (a truly heartbreaking thing to observe). But she is healing emotionally, and is so profoundly comfortable with Marcello, that she falls into a restful sleep when he holds her in his arms – and it is clear that his affection for her is as deep as a father’s for his baby girl. Mara has been accepted by the other monkeys and will eventually be able to move into a larger enclosure with them. To learn more about Mara, click here: https://youtu.be/a3bAwPnNE0c.

This is Ajayu, another one of the rescued animals at La Senda Verde.

He was blinded and his cheekbone was smashed when humans attacked him with rocks. There is footage of him bleeding from his eye and face that is soul-crushing. He was terrified and wailing when he was brought to La Senda Verde. After the vets treated him for his extensive injuries, co-founder Vicky nursed him back to health. She hand-feeds him and gives him loving comfort and attention. Like Mara, he is healing emotionally. In spite of his blindness, he can navigate his entire enclosure and will be getting a larger space when he is ready. To watch his heartbreaking rescue story, click here: https://youtu.be/X9vLz_zsJvg.

This is Maruka. Her human owners tried to extract her teeth with pliers, and, in the process, smashed her nose and blinded her in one eye. They also fed her the wrong food, and her stomach permanently distended.

Marcello learned of their abuse, and visited them regularly over many months, bringing food for Maruka and rice and sugar for the family. Eventually, his gentle persuasion convinced them to put Maruka in his care, and he brought her to La Senda Verde, where she flourished and even became the alpha female (she’s now 25 and has passed that baton to a younger female). Her abuser wore the traditional long Bolivian skirts, and – astonishingly – she taught the other monkeys to fear anyone wearing such skirts, and so the staff at La Senda Verde wear only pants.

If ever there was an animal refuge deserving of your donations or volunteer efforts, La Senda Verde is it. The Bolivian government provides no financial support, yet anytime the police bring an animal to the refuge, they are required to take it in. Bolivian law also does not allow them to release rehabilitated animals into the wild, so when an animal arrives, space must be made for it for the rest of its life. They currently have about 700 animals in their care and are reaching capacity, but buying land is very expensive. They have many projects in the works, including a new enclosure for an incoming jaguar, but need financial support. Click this link and you’ll see the Donate button in the upper right. You can also shop at your favorite stores via the portal and a small percent will go to La Senda Verde.

As a future veterinarian who loves animals, Elise was profoundly moved by the rescue stories of the animals (and I haven’t cried this hard in years).

She was given a tour of the grounds by volunteers. She saw a rescued tapir, cabybara, armadillo (so fat that he could not roll into a ball), deer, turtles, spider monkeys, squirrel monkeys, kinkajou (who hissed when looking at you, but expected a backrub when he turned his back on you, lol), boa constrictors, alligators, a lone duck, ocelots, three bears (including dear Ahayu), and many birds. She learned that the green-winged macaw’s beak is stronger than a lion’s jaws so that it can crack nuts. She also learned that the alpha male spider monkey protects the troupe, but that the alpha female makes all the societal decisions.

She also toured the clinic with Veterinarian Rosa from Spain.

Rosa showed Elise a turtle who’d needed stitches, a night monkey missing its teeth, another who’d pulled out much of its fur due to stress from an abusive situation, a parrot with a damaged claw, a tiny little monkey Rosa had named Rosita that had problems with its hands, and other physically and emotionally abused creatures.

Rosa showed Elise the operating room and explained how they gently put animals under for surgery. She told Elise that when normal medicine didn’t help, she treated the animals with homeopathic remedies, and many were showing signs of success. (Perhaps Elise will consider the same program in homeopathic treatments for vets in Barcelona that Rosa had done.)

We spent two nights at the refuge, first in a treehouse high above the grounds.

We slept under our mosquito net and were awakened by a fantastic bird chorus. Elise slipped out onto the balcony for a few minutes, and before she knew it, a group of playful squirrel monkeys had appeared. They ran back and forth along the railing, and one even jumped onto her back! Before they scurried away, the little mischievous critters held us hostage by hanging on the screen on our front door for a while, trying to get in. The second night we spent in a spacious, two-story lodge with lovely wooden details and a large screened-in porch near the bird enclosure. Throughout the day I heard different bird voices calling “Ola!” “Ola” “Ola!” to one another.

You can support La Senda Verde by volunteering, sending a donation or by visiting the refuge. If you do visit, you will be amazed by the astonishing level of caring for the animals and moved by their stories, as well as by the beauty of the natural environment. When the US president decides to make it possible for American hunters to import elephant ‘trophies’ from Africa (this violates some of my deepest beliefs), more than ever, we need everyone with a heart to make efforts to protect those who cannot protect themselves from human cruelty. To learn more about La Senda Verde, watch the video below:

Posted on

Amazing cemetery in La Paz, Bolivia

We visited La Paz’s main cemetery and were deeply moved by the glass-fronted spaces in the cemetery walls where the ashes and mementoes of the deceased were displayed, creating a kind of looking-box. Most had photos, flowers, and religious icons, and some had cookies, tiny bottles, and even cheerful moving flower figurines.

The place was vast, with a maze of narrow aisles with thousands of crypts, some large and shiny, others tiny and industrial-looking, like the small, bleak, metal windows of a prison.

Our reactions to the cemetery differed. Elise felt a profound sense of sadness and didn’t want to linger long while I was absolutely fascinated and wanted to peer into every crypt. She nonetheless started to list the things that would go in her own looking-box (eliciting a deep stab in this mother’s heart). Her mementoes would include Puppy, daffodils (which she’d presented to the Duchess of Cornwall when she was 2), Pomeranian and Border Collie figurines, mango, sushi, and photos of friends and family. (Yes, the tears are streaming down my face.)

But I pray that our lives follow the proper order, and that my looking-box would have to be created first. What would I want in it? Photos of me with loved ones (with excellent light/composition/expressions, please), red poppies and cheery yellow sunflowers, a tiny cup of coffee, a journal, a camera, and maybe a solar-powered digital photo frame showing the best of my life’s photo work on a gigantic loop. (Don’t worry, I’ll make it easy by preparing the photo database.)

My Dad’s looking box would contain his portrait and many classic family photos, including beautiful ones he’d shot of my Mom and of us kids, as well as some artistic b&w street scenes he’d captured in Germany in the 50’s. His mementoes would include a giant and tiny chain link that he’d fashioned by hand, an etymology dictionary, a model of our pretty, tidy childhood home and yard, chess pieces, a golf ball, a tiny Heineken beer, pebbles from the Res where he walked or jogged every Sunday, and a tiny vile of sand from Horstseebad on the Baltic coast, where he lived as a young boy. And, of course, there would have to be colorful morning glories growing up and around his space.

When we return to the US for the holidays, we will visit Elise’s Dad’s grave at Mt. Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge. After this experience, it may feel very cold and limiting looking at a tombstone. But Mark was such a vibrant personality and soul that no looking-box could adequately represent him. That said, if we had to try, we’d have it play music he loved, alternating between wildly danceable African music and soul-moving classical music, and include photos of him surrounded by his 3 beautiful daughters, and a shot of him summiting peaks in the Himalayas and the Rockies, arms high in the air. Mementoes would include mini running shoes/racing bike/swimming goggles, an IBM penguin figurine, a tiny Peruvian hat, a power bowl of oatmeal, mussels, and tiny ice cream cone, as well as his wooden sculpture of figures dancing in a circle holding hands (which I thought beautifully expressed his love of interacting with others). Finally, this quote from Rumi, which Mark sent me three weeks before he passed as his body was breaking down:

An unsuspecting child first wipes the tablet and then writes the letters on it. God turns the heart into blood and desperate tears; then writes the spiritual mysteries on it. – Rumi

God rest his soul.

Posted on

Funny ferries and border shenanigans

When our bus driver told us that we’d need to board a ferry en route to La Paz, we assumed we’d be on the same ferry as our bus – after all, when we’d traveled from Berlin to Copenhagen, the entire *train* boarded the ferry. But by now we should know not to make assumptions! In this case, the bus got its own big, flat gondola, and the humans boarded a separate fume-choked (but fast) motorboat. It was a riot watching the slow progress of our bus across the lake – it looked top-heavy and likely to tip over at any moment.

Speaking of surprising crossings, as dual US/German citizens, we wanted to enter Bolivia as Germans since Americans are charged an outrageous $135 for a visa and Europeans $0 (which, by the way, is hurting tourism in Bolivia). At the border, we got our exit stamps in our US passports, and then presented our German passports. Since Bolivian immigration officials would need to see evidence of our presence in a South America, we needed to get Peruvian stamps in our German passports. But the shady Peruvian immigration officials passed us a little handwritten note that said: “USA $135 Germany $65”. It was outright extortion, because Peru does not officially charge visa fees. But $65 each was better than $135 each, so I paid up, but was not happy.

Posted on

Homestay on the floating islands of Lake Titicaca

Elise and I did a homestay on Uros Khantati, one of about 50 floating islands on Lake Titicaca. Centuries ago, the Uros people first fashioned the islands out of totora reeds in an effort to isolate themselves from the aggressive Collas and the Incas. Now they keep the government at bay, since they pay no property taxes – only taxes on tourist services.

When I booked the homestay, I had no idea what would await us. Would it mean that we would would be staying in a guest room in the home of an Uros family? What kind of food would they eat? How long would we have to travel to reach the islands? Would there be running water, electricity or proper toilets? Elise was particularly worried about the latter. She needn’t have been.

We traveled by boat only about 20 minutes from Puno, Peru on Lake Titicaca. Soon we spotted our first island!

It really was a floating island made of reeds! As a neat freak, I couldn’t help noticing that there was rubbish strewn on the island, however. Would ours look the same? Soon we started to see many other islands, each with its own personality. Some had a reed lookout tower in the shape of a giant fish, others a giant bird. Many had dramatic-looking reed boats.

Soon, we arrived at our island, Uros Khantati – home sweet home for two days and a night.

It turned out to be a ship shape island with about a dozen cabins, a restaurant, lots of cheerful reed umbrellas and archways, a tall lookout station, and even a bridge and a pond. Walking on the springy reeds was a trip – almost like walking on a waterbed.

Our host, Chistina, greeted us and brought us to our cabin. Surprise! We had the cabin all to ourselves. It had lakeside views, a big bed, colorful wall hangings, and – to Elise’s great relief – a shiny, modern bathroom. As she would discover, the potty was also eco-friendly: the front part had a drain for Number One and the back part a pit for Number Two. Instead of flushing, one poured a scoop of what looked like kitty litter into the pit (we called it humany litter). Elise can be very particular about the hygienic standards of restrooms, but (to my relief) she gave this one a thumbs up. The lights were powered by solar energy.

There was a fun patio just outside our cabin with chairs and hammocks.

After we settled in, Christina’s husband Victor gave us a tour in a traditional reed boat with a puma face, the symbol of Lake Titicaca.

He showed us how they used nets to catch fish. He extracted two small fish from the net and put them in a bowl of water, noting that they were great for soup. Elise, of course, saw that the fish were suffering and asked if she could throw them back into the lake. Victor laughed and said yes. He then demonstrated how they gather fresh reeds using a surprisingly primitive-looking eucalyptus stalk with a blade attached at one end with wire. After he’d harvested a bundle of reeds, he peeled back the skin on one and nibbled on the white center. (He warned us not to do the same, however, since our systems were not adapted to the lake water.) Since the reeds on the island rot away from the bottom, he said that they must be replenished from the top three times a month during rainy season and twice during dry season. Placing the reeds on the ground is straightforward, but placing them beneath the cabins requires 25 people to lift the structures (logs stick out at the base of the cabins for that purpose) in order to pile up the reeds below. While he was explaining this, we saw a man on a small motorboat with an enormous stack of reeds returning to a neighboring island.

Victor told us that there were three families living on Uros Khantati. Since there are no schools in Uros, all the children leave by boat every morning around 6am to attend school in Puno, and return around 4pm. They move to the shore when it is time to attend college. Christina and Victor’s two children returned to island after college to help with the family business.

The islands are all anchored to each other and to the reeds by strong rope. I was fascinated to learn that the islands used to be in the center of Lake Titicaca, but that they were pulled by motorboat to their current location close to Puno three years ago in order to shorten transportation times to the lakeshore.

After the instructional part of our tour was over, we blissed out on the boat as we slowly made our way back to the island. Turns out, given the constant need to research our next destination/transportation/lodging/activities etc, and to write blog posts/select and edit photos, do our bookkeeping, and homeschool Elise – and to experience travel itself! – I rarely relax. But I was deeply relaxed in the warm sunshine and fresh air on the incredibly tranquil waters of the lake.

Christina served us a fabulous meal of grilled salmon, quinoa salad and potatoes, with beautifully arranged fresh fruit for dessert. In the late afternoon we put on traditional Uros costumes. Christina even wove pompoms into Elise’s braids.

It was very touristy, but I photographed our new German friends, Sinem and Fabi, paddling a reed boat dressed in Uros costumes. Fabi, by the way, proposed to Sinem after hiking the Inca Trail just as they reached Machu Picchu. She said yes! He was nervous that the ring would be discovered during security checks at the airport, but Sinem never suspected a thing. Well done, Fabi.

Afterwards, Christina showed us the handicrafts she and her daughter made, which included embroidered tapestries and pillowcases and figurines and mobiles woven from the reeds. There were many things I wanted to buy, but we have to stretch our budget for a full year and also don’t dare add any more weight to our packs.

Very satisfied with the day, Elise and I retreated to our cabin as the sun went down and had a very restful sleep.

The next morning, we relaxed in the sunshine as we waited for Victor to bring the boat to take us back to Puno.

Christina and her sister, who lives on the neighboring island, joined us for the ride back.

Our experience on Uros Khantati was excellent – one of the highlights of our travels thus far. If you are interested in doing a homestay on Uros, Christina can be reached at uroskhantati@hotmail.com.

Posted on

Chocolate and Culture in Cuzco

We were planning to do a cooking class in Cuzco, but the menus on offer didn’t appeal to us so we decided to do a chocolate workshop instead. It turned out to be a lot of fun! We learned that Africa produces the lion’s share (70%+) of cocoa worldwide, but uses pesticides. Peru, on the other hand, currently produces less than 2%, but it’s cocoa is organic – something I appreciate greatly.

We started by roasting the cocoa beans and then peeled off the husks and made tea with them.

We then ground the cocoa beans to a paste with a mortar and pestle and used it to make both traditional hot chocolate and a spicy chocolate drink with cayenne pepper. Delicious!

We learned that the paste is usually refined in a mixer for 24 hours with ingredients such as cocoa butter, sugar and milk powder. So that we didn’t have to wait to make our bonbons, our instructor gave us liquid chocolate that had already been refined. We selected molds, added nuts, raisins, and candies and poured the liquid chocolate over it. After 45 minutes of refrigeration, our creations were ready to sample. Elise’s favorite was the one with gummy bears and M&Ms, and mine were the ones with Brazil nuts and raisins.

Having tanked up on sweets, we were ready to take in some culture. My goal was to see the treasures that had been taken from Machu Picchu, but none of the artifacts we saw were identified as having come specifically from MP. We nonetheless saw many interesting pieces. We started with the Inca Museum where we were greeted by this larger-than-life Inca warrior and a craftswoman making a traditional weaving, and later, by a group of mummies, which spooked Elise.

In spite of its small size, the museum had the world’s largest collection of ceremonial Inca wooden drinking vessels.

We then visited the Museo de Arte Precolombino which had artifacts from Peru’s ancient cultures from between 1250 BC and 1532 AD. My favorites were these head figures, female fertility symbols, and this utterly simple, but beautiful bottle which has characteristics from both the Inca and ancient Cuzco people.

PS The title of this blog was adapted from “Cappuccino & Culture”, the moniker that my friend My-Linh gave to the food and museum outings she’d planned for us group of gals back in Berlin.

Posted on

El Condor Pasa


El Condor Pasa is a melody you hear everywhere in Peru – in stores and restaurants, on the streets…and (somewhat maddeningly) on a loop at breakfast at a campsite. Here, it is being performed by a street merchant on one of the toy panpipes he sells.

It’s strange how travel fills in gaps in our knowledge – not just on the Big Things like geopolitics and history, but on tiny bits of popular culture. Like everyone else in the world, I could sing along to the verses that Paul Simon wrote for this traditional melody. But for some strange reason, I never knew all the lyrics to the chorus. It took a trip to Peru to take note of them:

Away, I’d rather sail away
Like a swan, that’s here and gone
A man gets tied up to the ground
He gives the world
It’s saddest sound
It’s saddest sound

Well, I’ll be. As a child, I often felt a profound sense of sadness when I looked at facades of homes as we drove past in the car. I somehow felt that the people behind the facades were leading lives of quiet desperation. I never understood it or even tried to articulate it to anyone until I was much older. (Turns out, the feeling was strongest in economically depressed areas.) My sister, on the other hand, loved looking at houses and would point out the details that she found aesthetically pleasing. Her associations were all positive. Fast forward 40 years and she is living in a huge home that she’s lovingly decorated, and I am technically homeless. But I have sailed away, like the swan – with my little baby swan (i.e. my cygnet, but that doesn’t sound as sweet). And I am, dare I say it, happy – at moments, exceedingly so.

Why did Paul Simon include a swan instead of a condor in his lyrics? As a broad-winged soaring bird, the condor is a stronger symbol of freedom. Perhaps he got stuck on the rhyme scheme (“Like a condor that’s meant to wander/ponder/maunder?” Nooooooo.) He appears to have also inverted the meaning of the song, because El Condor Pasa was apparently originally a Peruvian homecoming song. Interestingly, though, the feeling of yearning that it evokes conveys homesickness as well as it does Fernweh (away-sickness).