Winter Repose (a year late but who’s counting?)

Winter in Zurich is my second favorite season with summer winning only for the incredible lake and river swimming to be done in the middle of the city. In winter though, the city is magic. Sure it’s cold and gray and drizzly for weeks on end but this California girl will take it if only for the occasional days when the snow sticks and everything glitters and glows.

Here’s a little album I put together of winter in Zurich. I guess I have a thing for snow on fences.

And here’s an album of a great day trip we took to a nearby ski region.

In January of 2017 we hosted Alan, Rachel and Brant for the annual New Year’s get-together. This crew has been getting together for NYE since the fellows were in middle school, long before Rachel and I married into the friend fam.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With the NY Crew, we took a day trip to the sweet town of Gruyères. Yes, like the cheese!  It’s about a 2 hour drive from Zurich and located in the French speaking canton of Fribourg. There we toured the 13th-century Château de Gruyères where we saw a mummified hand and some very old graffiti. Who knew drawing penises on walls has been a thing for so long!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We also visited the HR Giger Museum because I guess we hadn’t seen quite enough penises yet. In case you’re not familiar, HR Giger was a Swiss artist who is most famous for creating the creatures featured in the Alien movies. The museum is housed in a chateaux where the artist once lived. His work is quite dark and features many sexual and bio-mechanic themes. We were also able to see some of Giger’s personal art collection from which he drew inspiration. After touring the museum you can pop across the street and have a drink in the Giger bar while relaxing in a chair that looks like an inverted alien corpse!

Our tour of the town also included a rachlet lunch (melted cheese served with small potatoes and cornichons) and a visit to the Gruyères cheese factory where we watched a robot flip and spray giant wheel after giant wheel of cheese with a saline solution that hardens the rind.

It was a great visit. We were so thankful that the entire crew was able to join us before we moved back to California. This January, Tyler made the trip to Boston but I did not. I stayed home with the flu which I sneakily gave to Tyler right before he left for the airport. Sorry babe!

Here’s an album of our time with the NY Crew.

Those Lights Tho

Hiking in La Palma

Tyler and I are not resort people. We are not joiners and we are not the kind of people who make friends quickly or easily. So it was very off-brand for us to decide to spend Christmas at a resort last year. Normally we try to find a remote island cottage with no neighbors and proximity to sand and sun. These are hard to come by in Europe in December. The previous year we researched “where is the hottest place in Europe in December”. We came up with The Canary Islands, Spanish islands off the coast of Western Sahara. It was a fantastic destination but it wasn’t exactly hot, hot. The food was amazing and we hiked in paradise but the weather was unpredictable. We only braved the sea once. Contrast this to our previous Christmases in Mexico, Hawaii and The Caribbean where we lolled around on the beach and snorkeled crystalline waters. La Palma was beautiful but windy, cold, rocky and formidable.

This past year we realized we wouldn’t be finding our winter island paradise in Europe so we pivoted in the opposite direction. We said “Let’s do to Finland!”. Lapland in December is not for independent travelers because it will kill you. You will freeze to death in the dark and be dead and your frozen body will be eaten by wolves. We knew doing our own thing was not going to be an option. So we did the thing we’d never done before; we booked a resort package… DUNDUNDUN!!!

We chose Nellim Wilderness Lodge based on an exhaustive internet search. Plus they had the Aurora bubble we really wanted to try! We chose a 4 day package that included snowmobiling, dog-sledding, snow-shoeing and a visit to a Sami reindeer farm. We had two nights in a hotel room at the lodge and then two nights in the bubble.

We spent a couple of lovely days exploring Helsinki before heading north to the great unknown. Helsinki was a fun city with great food, interesting architecture and a plethora of holiday charm. Fortified with a fun new winter hat purchased at an open air market, we headed off to the great white north.

We went in blindly not really knowing what to expect in terms of climate, landscape and overall “resortiness”. Our tiny plane landed in Ivalo and we found the person that was supposed to pick us up among the representatives from the 3 or 4 different resorts, one of them claiming to be the “Official” Santa’s Village. After waiting a short while, all of the remainder of the Nellim guests made themselves known to the driver. There was a middle-aged American couple, a middle-aged gay couple from England and a mother and her teen-aged son, also from England. Little did we know that these folks would become very familiar faces over the course of our stay. That’s resortin’ for ya!

At around 2:30 pm, just as the sun was setting, our driver escorted us to the van and we headed off to the resort. I snapped this first picture as we pulled out of the parking lot.

The quality of light was completely alien and there was a hushedness in the air that was almost palpable. As soon as settled into my seat I got really sleepy, finding it hard to stay awake on the 40 or so minute ride. In fact, everybody grew quiet and most began dozing soon after we got on the road; collective narcolepsy had overtaken the van.

Upon arrival at Nellim we were ushered into the main lodge and offered a late lunch as each group got checked in. The lodge was about as quintessential “rustic wilderness cabin” as you might imagine complete with animal skins, vintage skis, dusty taxidermy woodland critters and plenty of log cabin flair. Plus it was Christmastime so there was décor in the form of tinsel, lights and Santa tchotchkes. Lunch was served buffet style with a hearty mystery meat stew (later we learned it was reindeer, which was served in some form or another at nearly every meal), bread, salads and cold-cuts.

A woman in fancy traditional Finnish dress came over to check us in and give us waiver forms for all the dangerous activities they were going to let us do. We were also offered the opportunity to rent an “aurora phone” from the lodge, a tiny flip-phone that the staff would text whenever there was an aurora sighting.

After dropping our bags in our room we headed over to the equipment building and got fitted with snowsuits, boots, balaclava and gloves that we were to keep for the duration of our visit. Temperatures normally hover around zero degrees F during peak winter but throughout our stay it averaged around 30F, the lowest reaching 14F. We were extremely lucky with the weather. It was cold enough to feel “extreme” (at least to this California girl) but never painfully cold when we were all geared up.

Snow gear and aurora phone at the ready we headed to out lodge room to relax before dinner and the first evening’s activities. Soon after we started unpacking, the aurora phone beeped. With great excitement we ran outside to see what we could. People had gathered on the porch of the main lodge and stared into the sky in amazement. We joined them and I looked up and didn’t see a thing. That is until I saw a thing: A nebulous, undulating light shimmering in greens and purples. Watching there with the people gathered together it was like watching a fireworks show in slow motion with both hushed and shouted “oohs and ahhs”. The lights were showing in a couple of different parts of the sky, dissipating quickly and reappearing in another spot. Eventually the show slowed and the people dispersed.

I tried to get a picture. Stupid me neglected to learn how to use my DLSR camera before arriving and turns out you really need a tri-pod as well and some special lighting stuff. I spent way too much time dicking around with my camera instead of just experiencing the actual event. Once I realized I wouldn’t get any kind of perfect shot I was able to let go and live in the moment. We would see the lights two more times on the trip but they were never as strong as on that first night. This was the best I could do. Not too shabby, right?!

And so began our resort holiday. It reminded me so much of summer camp. We had our bunk assignments, we all ate together in the canteen three times a day, we consulted the schedule posted daily to see which activities we were assigned to and with which guide, we assembled and answered roll call when meeting for activities and the staff were a young, attractive international group who were all dating each other in some combination or another.

Here are some of the highlights and odd moments that stuck with me.

  • Dogsledding day was amazing. I could not believe the casual freedom they gave us. Our guide basically showed us how to work the brake on the sled and instructed us to follow him. Before we even know what was happening we were in our own sled with a team of 6 dogs and off to the races! That would NEVER happen in the U.S. Never in a million years. It’s one of my favorite things about Europe. Personal responsibility means something here. It was exhilarating. I had to pee about an hour in and had to find the bank on the frozen lake for a little cover and try to pee while wearing an enormous snowsuit while everybody waited. I did not fall over or wet myself so I count that day well spent.
  • Dining with the nice couple from Texas. We avoided politics but did talk about rodeo and too hot saunas.
  • The daylight was a persistent blue/gray moving into inky blackness at about 4 pm each night. Anytime we weren’t actively moving or eating we’d get so, so sleepy. If we weren’t kept busy and on a schedule I imagine everybody would sleep all day and night. The human hibernation instinct is real!
  • Enjoying Last Christmas on heavy rotation in the dining room all week and then to wake to the news that George Michael had died on Christmas day. I wanted to share my grief with somebody but was too shy to strike up a conversation with the 50 something gay couple that were there for fear of being presumptuous.
  • Finally moving into our aurora bubble for the last two nights. It had grown cloudy by then so we never saw the lights from inside it but it was magical nonetheless.
  • Being in the dining room when an aurora was sited and everybody’s little phone went off. A young boy running into the room shouting “aurora alert! aurora alert!”. Everybody leaving their dinners and rushing outside.
  • Johnny the guide from Manchester by way of Sydney where he met his Finnish girlfriend who was also working at the resort. He took us out on to the frozen Lake Inari for a bonfire and his hands were painfully wrecked from having to start fires, cut wood and handle a white-hot iron tea kettle all season. He explained the difficulties of starting a fire in -20 degree weather.
  • The young couple from Hong Kong who were super excited about their ongoing journey; a stay at the official Santa’s Village which turns out is most popular with Asian tourists.
  • Taking the big bus back to the airport at the end of our trip and being greeted by elves hanging from the road sign for the airport, representatives of said Santa’s Village. Five more or so were working the inside of the airport, stealing hats, making mischief and chortling in ridiculous voices to delight or irritation of all.

Here’s a link to my full album

A Fun Surprise in Praha

The continuation of my trip with Sam to Austria for Krampusfest led us next to Vienna. Vienna was just as shiny, glitzy and over the top in real life as it was in my imagination. We ogled the silverware at Hofburg Palace and even watched the famous Lipizzaner stallions at their morning workout. We ate Sacher torte at the Sacher hotel with all the other sucker tourists, saw the gold-gilded work of Klimt at the Belvedere Palace and made a pilgrimage to Freud’s home and office. Vienna was extremely clean, grand and opulent. Contrast that to our next destination, Prague which was bitterly cold, grimy and oh so gothic. We loved it!

The gloomy menace of Prague suited our sensibilities better than showy Vienna. Within an hour of arriving we got caught in a blizzard as we shared an enormous hunk of ham under the shadow of 11th century Powder Gate.  We toured all the usual tourist highlights including the Charles Bridge, the Prague Castle and the Peace Wall but my favorite experience was one we lucked into by chance and that was a private tour of the Czech National Marionette Theater. Sam and I were walking through the Jewish quarter admiring all the wonderful art deco architecture when we passed an unusual doorway decorated with creepy wooden carvings. A sign indicated that this was the National Marionette Theater and that tours were conducted twice daily, the next one starting in about an hour.  Sounded cool. We decided to come back and see if there was a long line or what the deal was since the theater was closed at that time.

We came back at the appointed time and walked down a very narrow steep stairway into a little lobby. There was one gentleman at a kiosk but the rest of the theater was empty except for some workers with survey equipment in the lobby. We thought we were surely in the wrong place or that the schedule had changed but when we asked about the tour the man seemed open to the idea and sold us two very inexpensive tickets and asked us to wait in the theater. Oh, maybe we were late and everybody else was already in there. Nope! We entered the small 100 person art deco style theater (built in 1929) and took a seat. You can probably guess that the theater was completely empty. Sam and I looked at each a bit confused but definitely intrigued. After a couple of minutes an older gentleman came in and told us they were going to show us a short movie about their current production of Don Giovanni. Sounds great we said. The lights went down and a very funny little movie of Don Giovanni and his jester sidekick, in Marionette form naturally, gave a little tour of the city.

After the film the gentleman came back in and guided us backstage. Still not sure what we’d signed up for we were thrilled to have a private tour of backstage workings of the theater. We were given an opportunity to handle the marionettes and shown some basic techniques. The “actors” were carved from wood and surprisingly heavy! Our guide had been a member of the troupe for over 20 years and told us all about the history of the art in Prague. He then led us to the workshop where they build and restore the marionettes, some of them being over a hundred years old. We also saw their collection historic marionettes and set pieces. The tour over, we thanked our host and left out of the same empty lobby. What a strange and unique slice of Prague! We were so delighted to have stumbled upon this little gen in the heart of the city. It reminds me of the importance of wandering, eyes open and with no particular purpose, when traveling. It’s always the little surprises that stick with you in the end. The castle was amazing but giggling with my friend in the little underground marionette theater will be with me longer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here is the full album from my trip to Austria and Prague.

So. Many. Maids.

Follow me, if you will, down an Oscars Eve rabbit hole. A few weeks ago I started reading the fantastic book The Divine Feud by Shaun Considine about the career spanning animosity between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. I’ve always been a big fan of both of these over the top actors both as artists and as Personalities. What Ever Happened to Baby Jane is one of my favorite movies of all time and I’ve dressed up for Halloween both as Bette’s Baby Jane and as as Faye Dunnaway’s Crawford from Mommy Dearest, another one of my all-time favorites. To give me more context as I was reading the book I decided to download some classic films that put these dames on the map and helped fuel their Oscar lust laden rivalry. Yesterday I watched The Women, a 1939 masterpiece directed by the legendary George Cukor. If you have not seen this movie, I absolutely recommend it. The first time I saw it was at the Paramount Theater in Oakland and I very much remember my shock and awe when about a ¼ of the way into the movie there is a fashion show at a fancy department store. Suddenly the film goes from Black and White to full Technicolor and diverges from the plot entirely and we are treated to an absolutely bonkers fashion show complete with live monkeys, sky-high, see-through vinyl hats fit for the Kentucky derby if the Kentucky derby were held on Venus and bear gloves that would be the envy of any furry. So yesterday I’m reliving this masterpiece of the absurd and during one part of this beautifully bizarre scene there is a cocktail party setup and I noticed a stunning woman serving the models champagne from behind a drinks cart. She’s dressed in an emerald green maid’s uniform and, to me, she totally stole the scene. Since she was serving drinks you can probably guess that she was a black woman. The only other black woman in the movie is Butterfly McQueen credited as “Cosmetic Counter Maid” who gets bullied by Joan Crawford’s character into Cyrano De Bergeracing a home cooked meal for her and her married lover. The woman in green though, I do not recognize. I evoked the power of IMDB and found out that she was an actress named Theresa Harris.

Theresa Harris was a talented singer, dancer and aspiring actress who held the screen with countless stars of Hollywood’s Golden Age. I wondered why I’d never heard of her but then I remembered America. I dug a littler deeper; she’s been written about extensively and is well known for the staggering number of maids she played over her long career in Hollywood. I counted; how many maids could one person really play? Well, according to IMDB she was credited as “maid” in some form in 46 films. In some cases she was given the dignity of a first name but more often she was simply referred to as “maid”, “ladies room maid” or as “so and so’s maid”. She did have a number of credits where she is credited simply with a first name such as Ester, Ruby, Opal and Bessie Mae which was hopeful but then it turned out some of those characters were also maids. Non-maid roles included “Black Woman”, “Black Blues Singer” and the perennial favorite, “Sacrificed Slave” [sad trombone]. Ms. Harris simply could not catch a break. She was quoted as saying:

I never had the chance to rise about the role of maid in Hollywood movies. My color was against me anyway you looked at it. The fact that I was not “hot” stamped me either as uppity or relegated me to the eternal role of stooge or servant. I can sing but so can hundreds of other girls. Hollywood had no parts for me.

Fucking Hollywood. I have always loved the movies. As a young girl, I watched countless classics at home with my mom and started taking myself to the theater as soon as I was allowed. We got HBO early on in our house and I spent hours watching movies from every decade. My favorites were always centered on glamorous, fast-talking, witty dames or painfully beautiful ingénues. Apart from Jimmy Stewart, I never really cared about the men. Elizabeth Taylor, Joan and Bette, Katherine Hepburn, Rosalind Russell, Lauren Bacall; all women who spit fire and took no guff. Talent, charisma and beauty aren’t the only thing that connects these women and I don’t need to tell you the obvious. Imagine an alternative America where white supremacy didn’t exist. Theresa Harris might have been on that list of my film idols. Imagine a black woman with regular Hollywood women problems like being a queen and being in love with your right-hand man, or having to choose between a rich man you don’t love and a poor man who gets you intellectually or helping to solve a murder while being the baddest bitch there is. Can you even imagine? I can but it remains a feisty fantasy.

As I sit here on the Eve of the Oscars I am at least heartened by the four women of color who are nominated for acting roles this year. We have made some progress over the decades, haven’t we? We have but we haven’t. All four roles have a certain Hallmark of the type of roles for women of color society and the academy applauds. Each of these wonderful performances are centered on race, poverty or addiction. Has this always been the case? This was a question I asked myself and whose answer sent me down yet another rabbit hole, this one sponsored by Wikipedia. Ok, so obsessive me noted every single Oscar nomination for black women from the first (Hattie McDaniel as Mammie in GWTW) through tomorrow’s four nominees. What types of roles are women of color being offered and which types of roles are we rewarding? I know the Oscars are not really relevant in the grand scheme of things and that many, many wonderful films featuring fabulous roles for women of color have always existed and continue to exist but in terms of “International Acknowledgement, Acceptance and Prestige”, the Academy Awards are still a major factor when casting, writing, directing and producing opportunities are handed out. Bette Davis and Joan Crawford knew this and spent their lives slobbering over that little golden man in order to advance their careers. And it worked. So, in chronological order (in two categories) I present the roles the Academy has decided are the pinnacle of BLACK ACTING for women!

*Entries in Bold are winners; common tropes and problematic stereotypes are italicized. Underlined are notable exceptions.

Best Actress

  • 1954: Dorothy Dandridge. Carmen Jones (singer, seductress). We’re off to a hopeful start, right?! Dorothy Dandridge is a freaking legend and everything you’d want in a star. This was a fantastic role in a movie that did not center whiteness. I might as well stop now right, cuz I’m sure it’s all uphill from here, right? RIGHT!
  • 1972: Diana Ross as Billie Holiday in Lady Sings The Blues (singer, drug addict)/Cecily Tyson in Sounder (Sharecropper, impoverished). Ok, ok, here we have after 20 years not only another black woman nominated for best actress, we have two!!! This is great. America is not racist and has no problem with black women in roles that do not center whiteness! In all seriousness, these are both enduring performances and you should watch both of these movies if you haven’t. Sure Billie Holliday was troubled drug addict who died at age 44 and Sounder features a father sent to a prison camp on trumped up charges but still!
  • 1974: Diane Carrol as Claudine in Claudine (maid, welfare mom, impoverished, race film). Claudine was one of a number of “race films”, movies that sought to explore America’s race issues. The good news; this film is not white centered and shed light on what it’s like to be poor and black in America. The bad news; “The film tells the story of Claudine Price a single black Harlem mother, living on welfare with six children, who finds love with a garbage collector” (Wikipedia). So there’s that. I have not seen this movie but Dianne Carrol is lovely. You can watch this movie in its entirety on Youtube. Bonus, great soundtrack by Gladys Knight and the Pips.
  • 1985: Whoopi Goldberg as Celie in The Color Purple (abused, impoverished). I really wish this movie had had a black director, don’t you? That said, it’s a moving and important film and a groundbreaking performance by Whoopi.
  • 1993: Angela Basset as Tina Turner in What’s Love Got to Do With It? (Singer, Abused). After waiting the customary 10 years (see 1974, 1985) we get a fantastic, toothsome performance of a dynamic black lady and I ain’t got nothing bad to say about this nomination except for the fact that she had to get beat the fuck up to get it. Holly Hunter (whom I adore) won this year for The Piano and did not need to get beat the fuck up to be acknowledged.
  • 2001: Halle Berry as Leticia Musgrove (widow of executed convict, abusive, abused, impoverished, object of sexual fetish, race film, white centered). Well, this one is problematic isn’t it? Yay Halle Berry, you are THE FIRST BLACK WOMAN TO WIN BEST ACTRESS!!!! This is a huge accomplishment and it only took 90 YEARS of black excellence in film (the first awards were held in 1929)!! There are a lot of italics on this role. Do you remember when this movie came out and all everybody was talking about was that graphic, violent sex scene where Halle showed her tits? Yeah me too.
  • 2009: Gabourey Sidibe in Precious – (impoverished, abused). Down and out and sad as fuck, just like we like to see our black women – NOT! Guys, seriously I don’t really want to see this anymore. I never was able to bring myself to see Precious because there is only so much misery porn I can take but Miss Sidibe is a great actress and seems like a delightful person.
  • 2011: Viola Davis as Aibileen Clark in The Help (maid, race film, white centered). Thank god we are back to playing maids or my entire point in this essay would be lost! I will not bore you with my deep and abiding hatred for this movie and the book it was based on. I saw this in the theater in Berkeley and experienced the dreaded “white guilt gasp” throughout. You know, when the liberal while ladies are in public they feel the need to audibly show their horror whenever blatant instances of racism are shown to let you (or each other maybe?) know they do not condone it. Bitch, why are you acting shocked and surprised that black folks have been treated horribly in America? Now, Miss Viola Davis is a fucking queen and has done more to raise the bar and expectations for black actresses than anyone else I can think of. As an actress, what type of mental gymnastics do you think she has to go through when she decides whether to take a role like this or pass? It’s a starring role in a super high-profile film with and enormous budget and built-in fan base because of the books popularity. Do you think Meryl Street has ever had to carefully consider whether or not to take a likely Oscar worthy role because it might be problematic for her to portray a maid who gets helped by some well-meaning white people? Could you even for a minute consider Meryl having to be careful of being typecast?
  • 2012: Quvenzhané Wallis as Hushpuppy in Beasts of the Southern Wild (impoverished). This was an odd movie, wasn’t it? Poor little Hushpuppy. Quvenzhané was wonderful in this film and we sure felt sorry for her difficult black life didn’t we? What did she do after this movie, Black Annie right? You get it little girl.

Best Supporting Actress

  • 1939: Hattie McDaniel in Gone with the Wind as Mammy (mammy). Well here’s where it all began. The character’s title says it all and has become a trope in and of itself. Hattie was the first black nominee ever and the first black winner! And the first in a long line of Best Supporting Actress nominees whose role is literally in support the white stars of the film.
  • 1949 Ethyl Waters as Dicey in Pinky (illiterate laundress, race film). I have never seen this movie but the plot is Dicey’s granddaughter Pinky moves north and passes for white. In case you don’t know, Ethyl Waters was a renowned jazz and blues singer and you should listen to her singing Story Weather here and get your life.
  • 1959: Juanita Moore as Annie Johnson in Imitation of Life (maid, race film). Well, this is the same plot as the last freaking movie! Annie Johnson’s daughter is light-skinned and moves in with a white family so she can pass. I remember watching this on TV a lot when I was a kid. I was fascinated by the idea of passing and thought about what that might mean for me but then I realized it was impossible and also sounded like a real drag that could only lead to heartache and stripperdom. But lord did I wish I had good hair like the girl in the movie. Fun Fact! Juanita Moore also had a small role in Pinky!
  • 1967: Beah Richards as Mary Prentice in Guess Who’s Coming to dinner (race film). Even though this movie deals exclusively with capital “R” Race, the role of Mrs. Prentice is one of the least problematic of all the nominees ever. Beah Richards plays Sidney Poitier’s mother so you know she is FLAWLESS.
  • 1983: Alfrie Woodard as Geechee in Cross Creek (wife of alcoholic ex-con, abused helper of white main character). Whoo, lord, just that character’s name gives me hives. I remember seeing this in the theaters and it was largely forgettable. In the south, Alfrie Woodard has a hard time and moves in with a nice white lady and helps her with some stuff and in return the nice white lady learns a lesson or some shit. Alfrie Woodard is doing some fantastic work in Luke Cage BTW.
  • 1985: Margaret Avery and Oprah Winfrey as Shug Avery (singer) and Sofia (abused) in The Color Purple. Another two-fer year! Couple this with Whoopi’s nom and you have got yourself a big year for black acting! I think all the ladies in this movie get beat the fuck up at some point, correct me if I’m wrong.
  • 1990 – Whoopi Goldberg as Oda Mae Brown in Ghost. (Con artist, helper of white main characters). I think the less I say about this WIN the better.
  • 1996: Maryanne Jean Baptiste as Hortense in Secrets and Lies. Optometrist, highly educated, BRITISH. What a great movie. I love Mike Leigh and this was the first movie of his I saw. We can allow British black ladies to do their thing since their relationship with race is different from ours. An educated British black lady isn’t a threat in the same way.
  • 2002: Queen Latifa as Matron Mama Morton in Chicago. Prison Matron. This is another anomaly as the part of Mama was originally written for the stage as a while lady. All the same, props to Queen Latifa for killing it in this musical. She’s a rare example of an American black woman in a film who’s life and decisions do not revolve around helping white people or dealing with racism. It’s simple, if you’re good to Mama, Mama’s good to you! The win for this category went to Catherine Zeta Jones as Velma in the same movie.
  • 2004: Sophie Okinado as Tatiana Rusesabagina in Hotel Rwanda. Hotelier’s wife BRITISH. Another fabulous British actress. This was another difficult movie to watch but it was wonderful. Again, non-American black people’s problems are very different!
  • 2006: Jennifer Hudson as Effie in Dreamgirls. (Singer) We have another winner!! There is not much to dissect in this nomination and win. Jennifer Hudson proved she not only had vocal chops but could also act her ass off! This was a huge win and it makes me happy still thinking about it. Have you seen this though?
  • 2007: Ruby Dee as Mama Lucas in American Gangster (mother of drug kingpin). LEGEND. Ruby Dee is everything. Civil rights pioneer, poet, screenwriter, activist and star of stage and screen, she epitomizes black excellence. Noted white-splainer Tilda Swinton won instead for Michael Clayton.
  • 2008: Viola Davis as Mrs. Miller in Doubt (mother of an abused child) and Taraji P Henson as Queenie in The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons (nursing home attendant, helper to white main character). It’s no surprise that both of these women are currently STARS. They are so amazing at what they do. Right now on television and in the movies they are challenging stereotypes and basically just being amazing black ladies doing amazing black lady things. I did not see Doubt but I’m sure Ms. Davis was amazing and I don’t really remember the Brad Pitt as raisin movie. Penelope Cruz won this year for Vicky Christina Barcelona so it was a GOOD year for women of color!
  • 2009: Mo’Nique as Mary Lee Johnston in Precious – (welfare mom, impoverished, abuser). Congratulations, Mo’Nique. I heard you were fabulous. Again, I did not see Precious but I do keep meaning to read the book Push by Sapphire. I’m glad that this movie had a black director and writer. But the misery porn of it all is still a hard pill to swallow.  Lee Daniels, get your shit together and make something fun like Empire for the big screen. Thank you in advance.
  • 2011: Octavia Spencer as Minny Jackson in The Help (maid). Have you guys seen Hidden Figures yet??! If not, you simply must! Octavia is the best science boss ever and I adored her performance.
  • 2013: Lupita Nyong’o as Patsy in 12 Years a Slave. (slave, abused). Look, I’m not really into fashion but I think Lupita Nyong’o should be photographed in every stitch ever made. I follow her on Instagram; she is so heartbreakingly beautiful and stylish and FUN that I get mad she got famous off this movie. It was an ok movie but again, how many times must we watch our queens get whipped, raped and debased? Why does that get our attention and not this outfit?!?! I’m glad she’s famous enough now that she won’t have to play a slave again.

And that brings us up to date! Tonight we have Ruth Nega nominated for Best Actress for Loving. In the Best supporting actress category we have Viola Davis with her third nomination, for Fences, Octavia Spencer for Hidden Figures (and my favorite to win) and Naomi Harris for Moonlight. Here the black experience is shown without being filtered through the lens of the whiteness, which is refreshing. Still, Naomi Harris’ character is a drug addict, a trope we are all too familiar with. The world of Fences is also black centered but themes of racism and oppression are prevalent. Same too with Hidden Figures. We FINALLY have a movie featuring exceptional black women professionals but we also have to watch them be belittled and ignored for their accomplishments. Ruth Nega’s Mildred Loving is just trying to raise her family in peace but can’t escape the yoke of the Jim Crow South. Contrast these stories with those of their white counterparts. With the exception perhaps of Nicole Kidman in Lion, none of the other actresses nominated this year are in films that directly address race. The other actresses get to play a FLOTUS, a Whimsical Dancing Actresses and a Goofy Socialite Who Wants to be an Opera Singer. I do not think we are asking too much when our thespian sisters have been relegated the wings or only featured if when they are struggling or in pain. Where are our bad bitches that chew scenery, sling withering insults and make an entrance draped fucking sequins and gold? Oh, her name is Cookie Lyon and she’s on TV. I want to roles for black actresses that allow them to be more, do more and say more. I also want this for all women actors of color. How about a biopic on a writer or a scientist instead of a singer for once? Or maybe we could have a movie where there is a black woman who is a tough but respected corporate executive with a taste for much younger men? Or a movie where a gutsy librarian takes on the dewey decimal system while wearing a serious of usual but festive hats? Please credit me if you use any of those ideas, Hollywood.

Author’s note: As I am not the President of the United States I reserve the right to have some facts or dates be inaccurate. I did all this researching on Google so if I made a mistake and got something wrong I WILL SEE YOU IN COURT!

President Jackson?

Donald Trump is a lot like Michael Jackson. Sounds crazy, I know but hear me out! Michael Jackson grew up inside of a bubble that most average Americans could never imagine. His upbringing was not normal. As an adult, enabled by wealth and fame, he remained in his bubble. His every whim was met and any real consequences were made to disappear with a gag order or a pay-off. He was surrounded by sycophants, leeches and toadies. Nobody wanted to tell him the truth. Everybody wanted to protect his illusions to keep the gravy train on track. Nobody told him “no Michael, you can’t have that” or “no Michael, that is a terrible idea, please don’t do that”. Sound familiar? That is the life of Donald J. Trump. Both men sought approval and praise on a maniacal level. But the similarities stop there. Deeply troubled as he was, Michael Jackson did possess a few qualities that Trump clearly lacks; empathy, creativity, and compassion to name but a few. And let’s never forget that Micheal Jackson was a black man in America who struggled with his racial identity and with the reality of white supremacy, a structure which Donald Trump benefited from. Thus in Donald the ego grew, the sense of entitlement grew and the emulation and aspiration from others grew. Micheal Jackson’s life ended tragically and Donald Trump became President of the United States. Both lived in gilded cages of wild excess with little restraint placed on their ability to achieve their twisted desires. Limited by his own conscious and blackness, Michael Jackson’s legacy, while significant, will never have the reach and power of Donald Trump’s. We, the people helped to create both of these unhinged men but nobody in their right mind would have ever considered allowing Michael Jackson be President! That would be INSANE. Nobody ever looked at MJ and said, “That man speaks for the average American! He gets me. He understands my struggles and is a person who I can relate to. I trust him to do the right thing for my country and for my family”. I’m sure you can agree that THAT WOULD BE INSANE. You know what is even crazier? Thinking the same of Donald Trump.

Santa’s Evil Twin

Earlier this week I returned from an amazing journey with my dear friend Sam who came to visit from California (more on that journey in a subsequent post). She had been planning a special trip for us since before Tyler and I even made the move to Zurich. She’s a twisted lady and she wanted to spend the holiday season with this guy!

321c458fe3bdfa278897114b590d75a1This is Krampus and he’s Yin to Santa’s Yang (OK, St. Nicholas if you’re nasty). He’s part of an Alpine/Bavarian tradition that evolved as heathen elements synthesized with Christian Christmas customs and winter ceremonies. He’s been associated with the Christian devil (hence the chains and goat-like features). Krampus carries a birch branch switch to hit naughty children, sometimes stuffing them in a bag and taking them away to eat them, drown them or take them to Hell. So, naturally Sam wanted to meet this guy.

Sam researched the apex of Krampusness and found it was located in a small village in Austria called Klagenfurt so that’s were we set our sights. Happily, my Zurich friends Tracy and Shona also wanted to join in on the adventure! For months we had heard warning that things might get a little crazy. We heard about roving gangs of drunken young men who might be dangerous. We were also told that the Austrians were unfriendly and resentful of tourists. Where we about to jet off to some meth fueled hick town in the Austrian alps with the hope of meeting some monsters? Turns out that was only half true…

Sam and I arrived in Kalgenfurt in the dead of night. Our frighteningly small prop plane from Vienna coasted to a landing into a night so dark and foggy we couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of us. A bus transported us across the tarmac to the 2nd tiniest airport I have even been in (Chios, Greece wins 1st prize there). From there we hopped into a cab and set off to meet our friends at the hotel. Slinking through the suburbs in the dark of night we wondered what we would find when we got to town. What we found was a compact, tidy and charming as hell old Austrian town replete with cobbled pedestrian zones, twinkling Christmas lights, dramatically lit statues and monuments, warmly glowing shop windows selling beautiful hand-crafts and lots of cozy looking restaurants. Our hotel was right in the center of it all. So, not a drugged out small town with a chip on it’s shoulder and a taste for mayhem? Again, only half true…

We arrived on Friday, the Krampusnacht (the night the beasts come out to play) was scheduled for Saturday evening. That first night we had a lovely dinner of delicious Wiener Schnitzel and good local beer at a sweet little place called Der Magische Hut (The Magic Hat). After, we wondered around town a bit enjoying the lights and architecture.

The next day we enjoyed some shopping and gluhwein (hot, spiced wine sold everywhere during the holidays in Europe) at the Christmas market.

As we were wondering around we had our first monster sighting. It was a juvenile, perhaps 6 or 7 years of age. Despite its relatively small size it was nonetheless horrifying. It carried a horsehair switch and with some encouragement from its handler, beat me with it mercilessly.

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Now that we had seen one of these monsters up close we knew we had better steel ourselves both physically and spiritually for battle. We headed back to the hotel to prepare ourselves for the battle ahead.

We lined up along the parade route quite early to be sure we got a good spot up front. We packed ourselves against the rail at an intersection and waited with the growing crowd, taking the occasional nip from some pocket booze to keep warm. Almost the entire crowd, save ourselves, appeared to be Austrian and relatively local. We stood next to a couple from Kalgenfurt with their young son who was about 5. Lucky for us they spoke English very well and we were able to bombard them with questions. We asked if the boy was going to be afraid. The mom told us that they had been gradually exposing him to Krampus to get him ready; reading stories and looking at pictures and videos. He was also able to handle a Krampus mask and even try it on in the days before. Both he and his parents were quite excited! After a time, the crowd (about 10 people deep behind us at the barricade) hushed and we could hear bells from afar. The firemen on patrol cleared the street and the parade began with a procession of young men wearing enormous bells around their waists. After they passed by, we looked up the now empty street which was slowly filling up with an ominous cloud of smoke…

Krampus kommtFrom that moment on it was wall to wall monsters. The Krampus’ are all part of a club or guild and each has its own dedicated style and look. As they passed by, each beast more ferocious than the last, they gnawed and gnashed their terrible teeth and interacted with the crowd by shaking at the guard rail, stealing hats, plucking small children from the fence and carrying them on their shoulders all the while lashing out at people with their switches. One Krampus reached out with a long, black talon and marked my cheek with his devil’s soot. They also gave out candy to the kiddos. Because of the monstrous and macabre theme, it’s easy to forget that in the end, Krampus is for the Children. Though there were many more adults in attendance, the Krampus’ made special efforts to include and encourage the youngest in the crowd. And there were no tears from our small Austrian friend. He was having the time of his life. That twinkle we see in the eye of young American boys and girls as they sit in Santa’s lap at the mall was magnified ten fold in the eye of our young Austrian friend. He was seeing true magic and artistry at work. The costumes were elaborate and beautiful and the energy from the crowd and procession was palpable. We asked the Austrian couple if the parade was the same when they were kids and they said absolutely not. When they were little it was much scarier. There were no volunteer firemen doing crowd control, no barriers along the route and the Krampus’ were much freer with their switches and chains. They sounded wistful and reverent of the old days (this would have been no more than 20 yours ago; they were but young after all). It was extraordinary to be a part of this centuries old tradition and I felt especially thankful to be able to participate so fully as an outsider. The fears of a cold shoulder or roving bands of drunken youth with malice on the mind were wholly unfounded. We found a warm welcome there on the streets of Klagenfurt, surrounded by monsters and the screams of the young.

Enjoy these videos!

Here are a few more shots from the parade. It was hard to get good ones of the Krampus’ since they were constantly in motion. As usual, I will include a link to my online album which has much better photo quality than this blog.

Nevada Man

Nevada Man

Mieka Strawhorn

I think I know why they voted for Donald Trump. White people are finally getting called out on their shit and they don’t like it. In the good old days, you know, when American was great, white people had the privilege of saying whatever casually racist or sexist thought that came to their minds with no repercussions. But now there is a thing called facebook. Also a thing called twitter. Also a thing called progress. What was once said behind closed doors, behind backs and behind sheets (and I don’t mean the sexy kind) is now being espoused in the public arena. An example: On facebook, an asshole makes a “harmless comment” about a rape victim’s sexual history in Nevada and a person in Michigan, maybe a victim of sexual assault themselves, calls them out on it. Before, that man in Nevada made those types of comments all the time. Maybe he was rewarded with positive feedback from his co-workers. Maybe his wife gritted her teeth and let it slide. But that was when America was great and a white man’s right was to say whatever the hell he wanted with no negative consequence was guaranteed. But today, things have changed. We’ve changed. Today one of that man’s coworkers is an advocate for victims’ rights, because progress. The co-worker tells him “hey man, that’s not cool. That’s not an ok thing to say, it hurts people and makes you sound like an idiot”. Today his wife may finally admit to him that she was a victim of sexual assault. She feels emboldened by progress. The Michigan person who is friends with the Nevada man on Facebook (they are second cousins after all) reads this ugly comment and responds with a vitriolic screed on the baseness of victim blaming. The Michigan cousin’s friends pile on. The Nevada man is confused. He has literally made similar statements all of his adult and adolescent life with no repercussions. Now, all of a sudden (since we elected a black president actually, now that he thinks about it) the PC police are knocking at his door. He does not like it one bit. It makes him uncomfortable and alienated and he feels victimized. In fact, without knowing it, he is experiencing just a small fragment of the angst experienced by minorities (racial, religious, and sexual) in this country every damn day since the Plymouth Rock landed on them. The Nevada man doesn’t see the bitter irony that a black man in America has had to go through life being so, so careful about what he says in public lest he wind up swinging from a tree or shot down in the streets. He fails to realize that little gay boys and girls for centuries have tiptoed around expressing their sexuality for fear of being ostracized from their families, humiliated by peers or simply maimed and murdered. He never thinks of the millions of women who have learned to keep a smile on their face and their mouths shut or else. He has never considered the reality of having a close family member imprisoned and deported for no less than driving without a license. Nevada man is not accustomed to hearing the other clap back, even though the other is his wife, his second cousin, his co-worker, his son.

So, ill-equipped for this assault on his privilege, he lashes out. He seeks out others who agree that it’s not fair that he should have to edit his speech to appease the liberal agenda. How dare these people tell him what to say or do? He retreats into a vacuum of others like him, others who do not like hearing the message “your words and deeds have consequences and we, as an evolving society, will no longer stand aside and be silent”. He finds a life-line, a support group, an echo chamber that tells him he is right; that they are the problem. They are trying to take something away from him. They are too sensitive. They are asking too much. They are dangerous. They are calling him names. They are hurting him.

Nevada man is not a monster; he just wants to live in peace. He sees himself as a reasonable man with reasonable views. Is Nevada man a racist? He never was before but they keep changing the definition on him. Nevada man thinks racists are in the KKK and yell nigger or wetback from the car window. He doesn’t do those things, he is not racist. He is a fan on the NBA and voted for Obama. Nevada man has several black and Latino co-workers whose company he enjoys, for Christ’s sake! Nowadays they call him racist because he complimented one of his black coworkers on how well he speaks. When did a compliment become an insult? Nevada man is very confused.

Nevada man does not particularly like the man Trump. But he envies the man Trump because he is seemingly able to do what he himself is no longer allowed to do. The man Trump is not cowed by the demands of the PC police. The man Trump has promised an America he remembers fondly, when he was free to say what was on his mind. A time before so much was asked of him. As such, Nevada man will disregard his own better judgment just to make the noise stop. He thinks that if the man Trump will be president, his freedom of speech will be preserved and he will cease being labeled a racist or a sexist. It will be like it was in the old days, when America was great and everybody got along and acted predictably.

Nevada man has many faces. Nevada man is also Nevada woman, New York woman, New Hampshire man, Texas man, Iowa man, Kansas woman, Florida woman and Florida man. Nevada man in usually white but he is sometimes black. Black Nevada man may say “I’ve got mine, don’t rock the boat”. Latino Nevada man doesn’t trust anybody but at least this Trump man says what he thinks. Nevada woman is stridently pro-life and the Trump man will nominate a judge who might overturn Roe V. Wade. Asian Nevada man does not believe in government hand-outs and has always voted Republican. Black lesbian Nevada woman, well, that one I made up. But you get my point.

Even in his most profound moments of clarity, when Nevada man looks into his heart and knows that the man Trump is a wrong kind of person but he fears the Woman Lady more. He thinks The Woman Lady speaks for the others and the others are what caused all this trouble in the first place. He thinks she will help everybody but his kind. Maybe The Woman Lady reminds him of his mother telling him to take his hands off his dick in public that one time. Or The Woman lady reminds him of the look on his wife’s face and his inability to ease her pain when she told him about the time she doesn’t like to talk about. It was better for him before she said anything; knowing makes him feel uncomfortable and helpless. Nevada woman may think The Woman Lady is punching above her weight, asking for more power than she deserves because she herself feels so powerless. His reasons are personal, they are based on the self and self preservation.

Nevada man cannot abide this changing world, this shade encroaching on his bright, white privilege. I have news for you, Nevada man: It. Is. Too. Late. And what you think of as shade is actually light. Progress is always measured in light. The dark ages were bad. Nobody had a good time then. The age of enlightenment was better! As our country gets darker and more colorful, it gets brighter. Nevada man, in America, there will always be room for you at the table. You have spent the past few hundred years making sure of that but you will no longer be allowed to own the table. You must make room. You must listen. You must consider. You must share. It is only fair and right.

October Came and Went

Today the weather is gray and foggy; threatening rain. It’s time for me to dig out my sweaters and thick wool socks. It’s hard to believe October is already gone! The fall here is glorious but it doesn’t last very long. I’ve been trying to capture the season as I take my walks around the city.

This year I was lucky to be invited to my first ever Oktoberfest celebration! In these parts, Oktoberfest parties actually start in mid to late September. We attended one the second week of October and it was the last one of the year. It was located in a smallish village about 45 minutes down the lake from us in Zurich. Now get that “quaint village” image out of your head. The party took place in a giant outdoor tent located next to a very modern business hotel. Yes, the band were wearing lederhosen but played electric guitars instead of tubas and no alp horns were to be seen. Even so, centuries of tradition were clearly being honored at this party!

To get into the spirit I bought myself a drindle, a traditional farm-woman’s dress. I was so surprised to learn that EVERYBODY wears traditional clothes at Oktoberfest and that all my friends already owed drindles! Never one to let a chance to play dress up pass me by I made sure I was ready. My turn for a little cultural appropriation!

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A drindle is a really fun thing to wear and is super practical! It’s extremely comfortable, offers good coverage with just a little bit of sass up top and it has roomy pockets! It is built to suit a day’s hard work on a farm or a night of dancing and drinking beer with friends. I chose the latter occasion to put mine to the test. I really wish there were more occasions for me to wear my drindle. I know that if I ever go on that Sound of Music tour in Austria I’m bringing it so I can twirl the hills in style.

The evening started off with a round of giant beers and some tasty food, all included in our ticket price. I know it looks like an impossible amount of beer but its volume is matched with a very low alcohol content. This is a good thing, a very good thing! I soon learned the true joy of Oktoberfest; Ein Prosit! Every ten minutes the band strikes up with the song Ein Prosit. It’s a first class drinking song complete with a call and response section, curse words and ending with everyone taking a drink!

Awe, look how fresh-faced and wholesome we look! Remember when I said the beer was weak? It is! It really is! But eventually it does the things that beer is known to do and as the evening progressed we ended up making a lot of new friends. And dancing on the benches. And taking many bathroom breaks where we’d make even more new friends!

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The beer hall was filled with surprising diversity! Young and old alike, all dressed in traditional clothing. Most of the crowd was Swiss but like our own group (Kiwi, Aussie, Finnish and American), lots were from all over the world! We met Folks from Germany, Brazil, Serbia and India. One guy heard us speaking English and got excited and so ran over to talk to us. He had a German accent but he was wearing  ridiculous red alligator cowboy boots. He asked us to guess where he was from. I guessed Texas based on said boots and he said yes with a tear of joy in his eye! His mom is Swiss but his dad is from Texas and he spent time there as a child. He was ecstatic that I had guessed correctly, bless his heart. Those boots were so over the top “look at me I’m from Texas” but I think you need to be American to identify that very specific cultural indicator. At any rate, he was super stoked and a grand time was had by all. What a great celebration!

October wasn’t all about beer drinking (a fact Tyler can attest to). We also made time to enjoy the glorious fall weather.This past Sunday we took a few trains, a bus and a very sketchy looking cable car in order to take a hike along the Wildmannlisloch trail, located in the northeast near St. Gallen. We were rewarded with stunning views resplendent with fall colors bathed in hazy slanted light and shadow. Simply stunning!

The next day, Halloween was overcast, gray and cold. And if this year is anything like last, it will stay this way for quite a while. Oh well, at least now it’s officially fondue season!

As usual, the photos here don’t look so great. Have a look at this album for better quality!

 

Two Days in Croatia

I’m not going to sit here and pretend to be smarter or more sophisticated than I actually goranam. Until recently my only association with Croatia was Goran Visnjic who played hot doctor with a troubled past Luka Kovac on ER. Through his character I learned that there was a bad war and that bad things happened after the fall of the soviet empire. Seriously, woefully ignorant here. In the 90’s I was too preoccupied with our own involvement with the first Gulf War to be aware of global politics elsewhere. Plus there was all the flannel to consider and raves to discover!

Last year my aunt suggested a trip to Croatia as she’d heard it was an inexpensive Mediterranean destination with great beaches. That was the first time I’d considered visiting. So when Tyler told me his team would be having an off-site in Dubrovnik I jumped at the chance to tag along for the weekend.

Tyler was already in town so I flew in and met him at our hotel. All afternoon it stormed and thundered and deluged. We stayed cozy in our room reading and napping until  finally venturing our for a lovely sushi dinner at a restaurant nearby. We never eat Sushi in Zurich because its not very good here and costs almost as much as a mid-sized car. It’s always a treat eating out elsewhere because it feels like we’re getting away with something. “EVERYTHING IS SO CHEAP” we scream! Since the forecast was for good weather the next day, on our way out we booked a boat tour of three nearby islands for Saturday morning.

Tourism is Croatia’s #1 industry at the moment and you certainly get the vibe that the service industries (66% GDP) are working very hard to accommodate the incredibly large numbers of tourists that pass through Dubrovnik each year. The service staff (hotels, tour operators, servers etc) we spoke to were all super helpful, gracious and friendly. They also didn’t mind talking about the way things used to be. Our front desk guy at the hotel told us how lucky he was to be working for a Swedish company (turns out the hotel is run by a Swedish chain, which explains the brand new sauna we christened). He said many of the Croatian companies were still quite corrupt and were having a had time adjusting to the new free-market economy. Croatia has had tourists for decades but prior to independence in 1991, the majority of visitors were wealthy Russians. He told us things are improving and there are increasing opportunities but that the old folks will tell you it was better under communism. We got the impression that Croatia was still working out its national identity as it rushes towards full integration within the E.U. (it’s only been an official member since 2013 and their currency is the 20161009_153659Kuna, not the Euro). This all to say that tourism is booming and the city of Dubrovnik is a bustle with tourists from all over Europe, Asia and North America. According to one cab driver, much of the recent boom is due to an increase in cruise ships docking in the marina (which was getting a complete rebuild on our visit). However, he thought the biggest reason for the influx was the popularity of Game of Thrones and Star Wars (episode VIII), both of which have filmed on location in Dubrovnik. I believe him! In the city center there a countless GOT and SW themed souvenir shops hawking everything from t-shirts to life-sized replicas of The Iron Throne. You can also choose from a plethora of GOT themed walking or boat tours to all the film locations.

The weather was indeed better on Saturday and our non-GOT themed boat tour left early the next morning. We chose a small outfit and shared a little boat with two other parties, a retired couple from Scotland and a mother and son from Israel. We had sun and a gentle breeze as we tootled around the bay visiting the Elafiti islands; Lopud, Sipan and Kolocep.

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The first of the three islands, Lopud, had a great big old monastery that was closed for restoration and a wonderful sandy beach. No cars are allowed on the island so your choices are to walk or to rent a golf cart. He hiked to the beach and had a swim in the perfectly clear and bath-water warm Mediterranean sea. What a treat! The other two islands each had their own charm. Sipan was home to a charming fishing village of about 500 residents and was lush with citrus, olives and bougainvillea.

Kolocep was dominated by an upscale resort hotel (I tried to sneak in and use their bathroom to change into my swimsuit and was stymied by security. I changed in nearby bushes because I am class act, what?) and lively beach-front bar scene.

At each stop of our island tour we kept running into the same tourists on their own island tours confirming a brisk tourist trade with little operations making the same routes day after day. However, we caught the very tail end of the season. All reports are that after mid-October things drop off significantly. I’m sure it’s quite a different scene during the off-season. Our day on the high seas was capped with a lovely harborside meal of whole grilled fish for me and seafood pasta for Tyler where we enjoyed the company of the local cat population and a spectacular sunset.

The next morning we were awoken by driving rain and more thunder. Our plan was to go into the old town and walk around the city walls. Thankfully, after bit of a lie-in and late breakfast, the rain had died down to a steady drizzle and we decided we could walk the 4 miles from our Lapad Island hotel to the city center. Fun fact! There are no sidewalks on Lapad island! We played a fun game called “Will This Car Slow Down or Splash us With a Puddle?”. Well, we won that game and made it to our destination sprinkled not soaked. On our way we passed by this beast, used during the most recent war for independence.

A colorful reminder of how recent these events were!

As we neared the entrance to the old city the sun came out as did the hoards of slow walking zombiesque tourists. This made navigating the narrow wall that encircles the city challenging. There were lots of bottlenecks and people being dumb and doing ALL my least favorite pet peeves (stopping at the top or bottom or a staircase to look at your phone or tie a shoe or whatever, stopping abruptly to take selfies with your stupid stick or simply picking the absolute worst spot to stop and gape when there are 30 people behind you just trying to live their lives). I admit it, I got stabby. I had to check myself: What an amazing place to be! The old city is beyond majestic. I was reminded of the medinas of Morocco as well as the medieval hill towns of Italy. High up on the wall you can look down into the morass of the city below. Narrow, twisty alleyways, grand boulevards, plazas teeming with cafes and shops, ornate cathedrals, quiet gardens and rooftop terraces as far as the eye can see; all surrounded by an aquamarine sea dotted with lush green islands. Once I found my center I ceased to feel stabby and was able to go with the (OH SO SLOW) flow, taking it all in as it came (a short break for a beer and some shade from the hot sun didn’t hurt my mood either).

After walking the wall and poking around inside the city we decided to take the (Swiss built!) cable car to the top of the hill overlooking the city. Wow! What a treat. At the top we were treated not only to spectacular views of the city below but also of the mountains and foothills to the east. The hilltop is also home to Fort Imperial, a strategic fort constructed during the French occupation of the early 1800’s and used more recently in the 1991 Serbian invasion. With all the walls and forts everywhere you get a real sense for how besieged this city has been over the centuries. While I took a much needed rest, Tyler checked out the Homeland War museum located inside the fort. This prompted Tyler to do a good deal of research on the war so if you have questions you know who to ask (HINT: it’s not me).

After a long day of sightseeing, we returned to our hotel for a rest before heading out to a lovely final dinner at a trendy and delicious bistro not far from our hotel.

The next morning, as the clouds and rain came back with a vengeance, we headed to the tiny airport for our flight back to Zurich. We got there ridiculously early thinking we’d spend the time looking around at the shops and getting a bite to eat but there was not much too see. We were so surprised at how small it was considering the numbers of tourists that flock to Dubrovnik every summer. Another reminder that the country and economy are in transition. I was out of high school before Croatia declared independence! Our cab driver pointed out a new terminal that was under construction and I got the feeling that in 5 or 10 years time, Dubrovnik will be a much changed place. Maybe then you’ll be able to get a hot meal at the airport but for the time being, be content with a pre-made sandwich. And bring a book!

And that’s my Croatian weekend: Short and sweet! I got to swim in the Mediterranean sea, the locals we interacted with were gracious and welcoming, the weather was glorious when it was glorious, wet when it was wet and the ancient walled city of Dubrovnik was truly a world class attraction (and it is a UNESCO world heritage site). From the little of it I’ve seen, Croatia is a beautiful country working hard to become a major player in the European Union as it moves away from it’s recent and historic struggles for independence and its communist past. I would love to visit Croatia again and explore some of the less trodden towns and countrysides. Even from the short glimpse I’ve seen I can say without hesitation that its a beautiful country and I highly recommend visiting it!

Here is an album of my photos from the trip. I’m bummed that the in blog WordPress photo quality is so low. I took some amazing shots, you gotta believe me!

On the Move

I’m disappointed in myself for letting the blog go un-updated for so long. I had all intentions of writing an in depth post about my time volunteering in Greece yet found myself unable to put into words what I wanted to convey. As such I got stuck, life moved on and nary a post was made. What I can say (ever so briefly) is that my eyes and heart were opened and the relationships, experiences and observations made during those whirlwind two weeks still shape and inform my perspective of Europe, the world and my own life every day.

Here is a summary of the trips, events and visits I’ve had since I got back from Chios in early March:

  • I made chicken mole, there is still some in my freezer. It took me three days to source the ingredients. It was delicious.
  • At the end of March, Tyler and I took a wonderful trip to Amsterdam and Dublin. In Amsterdam we stayed on a funky little houseboat and met up with our Cali friends Dave, Darien and their daughter Annika. We went to karaoke where we realized the Dutch are absurdly tall. We took out a boat and puttered through the canals in the rain. We ate a lot of french fries. Beers were also consumed. In Dublin Tyler and I had the chance to meet up with an old friend, Rachel, who has been living there for a number of years. I had forgotten how great it is to have a local guide! In town we ate some great food and stayed in a really cool hotel that is a converted 19th century schoolhouse. We took a day trip to Galway via the Connemara countryside. Tyler had to return to work and I stayed on to meet up with some
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    Tyler and I looking for my pony in Connemara.

    other friends from California. Teresa and Mike are both musicians and I had the incredible opportunity to watch them play a gig and meet a few wonderful Irish musicians to boot. I even sat in and sang Jolene! It was an exciting and exhilarating experience. Rachel and I also made a day trip to the fabulous Castletown House, an early 18th century manor house. I finished off my Dublin adventure by taking a cross-country horseback ride with a lot of thrilling galloping and jumps before I popped over to London for a mini-reunion of volunteers I met while working on Chios.

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    Chios volunteers in London.

 

 

 

 

 

  • We had a visit from Pam, Tyler’s mom, in April and took some fun day-trips from Zurich. We visited Liechtenstein (can cross yet another country off my list!) where we saw the crown jewels (so. many. Fabrege. eggs.), the National museum and the postage stamp museum. On our way back to Zurich we swung by HeidiDorf village, the setting for Swiss author Johanna Spyri’s 1881 classic. During Pam’s
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    Oldest biggest cuckoo clock in the Black Forest

    visit we also made a trip to Germany’s Black Forest where we sampled some of the famed cake, checked out a surprisingly intriguing clock museum and saw both the “World’s Biggest Cuckoo Clock” and the “World’s OLDEST Biggest Cuckoo Clock”. The Black Forest; keeping Guinness on the ball since 1986 (date of the latter clock). Pam was lucky enough to be in town for the bonkers Swiss tradition of Sechseläuten, an annual festival and parade that is capped with the burning of The Böögg. The Böögg is a snowman set atop a giant pyre. the Pyre is lit and men on horseback gallop around its base. Everybody waits to see how long it will take before The Böögg is consumed by fire and his head (which has been packed with explosives) blows up. This is a live televised event. Bets are placed as to how long before the head goes up. The longer it takes, the longer we have to wait for spring.

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    Picture perfect covered bridge in Lichtenstein

 

 

 

 

  • May brought more family to us with a visit from my Aunt Dee who I met in Amsterdam. We had a wonderful time visiting the museums, eating giant pancakes and soaking up the spring sunshine. Dee returned with me to Zurich 20160503_171040and we were met with more love as my auntie from another mantie (sorry, that was hella sweaty) Patrice and her son Jessie came to visit. My grand plan to show off our glorious Swiss Alps with a day trip to Luzerne and Mt. Pilatus was stymied by rain, snow and zero visibility. We had a lovely time all the same sipping wine out of coffee cups and staring out into the white abyss. After bidding adieu to Jessie, Dee, Patrice and myself hit the rails and took a train to the South of France to visit our dear friend Christine. Christine, who is French, recently moved back to France after having lived in the U.S. for many decades. Her house is in 20160515_163027the breathtaking medieval village of Pujols. Again I was so glad to experience a place with a local guide! It makes such a difference and gives one the feeling of superiority over the lowly “tourists”. Christine’s amazing hospitality had us dining al fresco on her balcony, enjoying the best of the village market produce, traipsing across fields of wildflowers in the countryside and sipping locally made moonshine. It was utterly magical. And should you think the adventure ends here, you’re very wrong!
  • After leaving Patrice and Christine in France (don’t judge, I know for a fact that Patrice eventually made if back to Berkeley!) Dee and I embarked on a bigger adventure. Taking the train to Toulouse, we flew to Casablanca to begin a img_20160520_080318Moroccan excursion. Travel in Morocco was challenging and rewarding. We got a taste of both ancient and modern Morocco and witnessed a country struggling to balance both. We witnessed poverty and generosity, beauty and squalor, Western aspirations and aversions. We rode camels through the Sahara desert and had dinner under the stars img_20160520_082347with a Bedouin guide. Lest our reverence be too earnest, we also saw the heavily guarded mines just over the hill and heard about the devastating environmental degradation of the desert caused by unrestricted and rampant use both private and commercial. We also learned that two single gals driving around Morocco isn’t for the faint of heart but can be extremely rewarding, especially in hindsight! Dee and I capped our Morocco trip with a horseback ride img_20160525_222152through the countryside and ended our wonderful visit with a cocktail in Montmarte, Paris. Where is Tyler all this time you ask? Poor man has been working tirelessly back home in Zurich. He needed a break so he joined me in Paris for a long, well deserved weekend. We ate, we walked, we looked at stuff, we ate some more.

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  • Finally home for more than a week at a time we enjoyed the fine early summer weather of May/June in Zurich. A visit from Rachel up from Dublin for the weekend found us day-tripping to Gruyere, you know, like the cheese. Adorable town, lovely castle and incongruously, crazy smutty H.R. Giger museum (the designer of the Alien creatures from the movies, Swiss born Giger once lived in the village of Gruyère).
  • Comes June and Tyler and I’s 5th wedding anniversary! We booked a remote cottage in Umbria for the week. Tyler got to read an entire book! We visited the ancient walled city of Orvieto and the stunning hilltop village of Civita di 20160624_191715 Bagnoregio. We ate fresh truffles brought to us by the kindly groundskeeper of our cottage and picked our own veggies out of the garden. Finally we had dinner in the town of Macerino in the shadow of the villa we were married in. I had forgotten how glorious the air smells in that region, heady with the sweet smells of jasmine and broom brush and the herbal notes of rosemary and wild sage. Truly magical.20160621_123536

 

 

  • July brought Swiss national day where there was an airshow and carnival followed by fireworks. I also took myself to see Beyonce in concert on her Zurich stop of the Formation Tour. She slayed.
  • Late in July I made my first journey back to the U.S. since we arrived in Zurich  in 20160802_115048August of 2015. I can’t believe it’s been a year already yet it also seems like it’s been much longer given the amount of traveling and number of random adventures we’ve had! Since I probably saw most of you at some point during that trip I’ll keep it brief. My book club is still better than your book club. Our Tahoe offsite #2 was beyond compare. My niece is still cuter than your niece. The Bay Area is still my favorite place to eat in the whole world (sorry Paris, ya tart!).
  • Returning home was a very special experience as was returning home from returning home. This fall Tyler and I have been concentrating on work and participating in various social events (thank you to everybody who miraculously keeps inviting us to things!) here in town. Wanting to invest more of myself here in Zurich, I started taking an intensive German class in September. I also started an English Conversation workshop for Spooglers (spouses of Googlers) with the help of my good friend Tracy. In addition, I’ve made an earnest promise to myself to write every day. Not necessarily on the blog but I mention it here in an effort to keep myself honest. I will be updating regularly though so don’t unbookmark it just yet!

So… good lord! You’re still here? What a long and convoluted post. But it’s been a long and convoluted year so I suppose it’s fitting. As our second year living abroad charges forward I have so much to look forward to and to be thankful for.