Sabbatical Travels

Johannesburg Reborn

2011-08-19T08:13:00.000-04:00

"To be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others." ---Nelson Mandela

It felt good to be back in South Africa. We flew from Victoria Falls into Johannesburg mid-day Thursday, and spent the afternoon catching up on emails in the hotel lobby. Dinner was at the hotel restaurant, an Irish Pub with outdoor seating, on a nice summer evening. We had Bass ale and more spicy curry stews--a clash of cultures that worked in this local cuisine.

The clash of culture works on a broader scale too, though South Africans of all stripes seem to have trouble believing it. They point out their differences, which are really great strengths. There's a colorful, powerful energy in this new country--its people just need to believe it.

Much of the country's success certainly comes from its tremendous early leadership. South Africa was lucky to have both Nelson Mandela and F.W. de Klerk at the helm when apartheid crumbled--here were two men from opposing sides, working together for common purpose. They led the country peacefully through the rocky transition from apartheid to full democracy for all of South Africa's citizens. And they certainly earned their joint Nobel Peace Prize in 1993.

"There can thus be no real peace without constant effort, planning and hard work. Peace, therefore, is not an absence of conflict or a condition of stagnation. Peace is a frame of mind."---F.W. de Klerk, from his Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech. (Read the entire speech here--it's beautiful).

Their Truth and Reconciliation Commission, a revolutionary method of conflict resolution, went a long way toward defusing the pent-up anger and resentment from 80 years of apartheid. If Mugabe was an example of extreme tyranny in Zimbabwe, De Klerk and Mandela were the radical opposite. Twenty years later, there is tremendous hope and progress in South Africa, while over the border Zimbabwe is sliding into anarchy. There could not be a greater disparity between two otherwise similar countries.

Our last days in South Africa were lessons in conflict and what can happen when justice is finally served, so that the people can move forward together. Know the past, be clear about what happened, but then leave it behind--this seems to be the theme of the new South Africa.

Friday we hopped in a tour van and made our way around Jo-burg, as the locals affectionately call their city. The tour had an apartheid theme, and we learned a lot. We started in Soweto. What a fascinating place! This is where the anti-apartheid movement was born--where Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu lived, and where many prominent black politicians still keep a home.

Soweto isn't all slums. Many little homes were lovingly maintained, and construction for newly minted black professionals looked just like American housing tracts. Our tour guide, Sizwe, grew up and still lives in Soweto. He joked about the streets of mini-mansions, affectionately called 'Beverly Hills' by township residents.

Soweto today boasts good public services. Nearby is the largest public hospital in the world. The Chris Hani Baragwanath Hospital is a good quality teaching hospital. And affordable too.

Nearby, the University of Johannesburg's Soweto campus provides excellent teaching in modern classrooms:

Our next stop was the Hector Pieterson Museum, a permanent exhibit on Soweto's student uprisings.

In June 1976, schoolchildren marched to protest newly minted education laws. The kids had many grievances with the government at the time, including forced instruction in Afrikaans. Older children, preparing for college and previously taught wholly in English, were suddenly being tested in Afrikaans. Good students were 'flunking' their college entrance exams.

Even children could see how unfair that was--it was the final straw.

The kids marched, and the government freaked out--if they couldn't control the children here, how could they pretend to control the blacks and coloreds in the rest of the country? They went in with tanks, dogs and live bullets. 500 people died in protests that day--Hector Pieterson, a 12-year old boy, among them.

We visited Regina Mundi church, famous as a gathering place for anti-apartheid politicians, and for sheltering kids from gunfire during the student uprising. You could still see the bullet holes in the walls, from the military crackdown in 1976.

The church is a symbol to many in the world of non-violent resistance--Bill and Hillary Clinton visited several years ago to honor the place where the end of apartheid began.

Beautiful stained glass tells the story of the black struggle for freedom. It all started here, in Soweto:

Mark made a vendor lady outside the church very happy with his purchase:

Our last stop that day was the Apartheid Museum. Here we got a thorough history lesson--compelling, and condemning. In the end, it was obvious to the rest of the world that South Africa had gone down the wrong path. The country was ostracized by the modern world with boycotts and international protests. To their credit, the South Africa's leaders made a conscious choice to change.

In 1886 gold was discovered on a farm here, and a gold rush was on. The mines were what brought the population to the region in the beginning--they're the reason for Jo-burg's very existence. And they still mine gold within the city limits:

We learned that, though so much has improved in South Africa in the past twenty years, some problems clearly remain--AIDS and crime are stil major issues here. But there's a surprisingly positive feel to the place.

People smile, they mix and mingle, they treat each other outwardly with a respect that's surprising. The country hosted a wildly successful World Cup tournament in 2010, with few speed bumps. It's clearly ready for the big-time.

Many people asked whether I felt safe while I was in Johannesburg. The city definitely had its problems in the '90s, as poor people flooded to the city center from the townships, and refugees from other war-torn African countries came for work.

But things seemed quite settled during our visit. I read later that the economy grew nicely through the 2000's. We saw the big commercial centers, with big banking and many mining companies headquartered here. It's also the largest 'dry' port in the world--I learned that half the country's imports arrive in Jo-burg for processing, after they leave its big seaports. There's a strong retail sector here (we visited one of the huge upscale malls that dot the suburbs when we saw 'The King's Speech' before our evening flight home). And the roads are well-lit and nicely paved.

Jo-burg is definitely grittier than Cape Town. It reminds me of New Jersey--bustling, traffic, people rushing off to work, colorful faces, power lines, highways, skyscrapers. In a word, robust.

The cooling towers of Soweto's own electric power plant:

To me, much of the beauty of Jo-burg lies in its strong economy, which creates a healthy standard of living for all. There's a sense that there's enough for everyone. The city isn't scary, it's exciting. There's so much change, and hope here--I expect to come back in twenty years and be startled all over again by the changes that I see.

Aardvark to Zebras---Going Wild in Africa

2011-08-12T06:17:00.000-04:00

Southern Africa's people are fascinating. You could spend 20 years trying to wrap your mind around the complicated history here.

But Africa is just as famous for its wildlife. The Big Five grace book covers and wall hangings and jewelry in every gift shop we stumbled across. People come from all over the world to experience a safari. So a trip to southern Africa just wouldn't be complete for me without checking out a zebra or two in the wild.

I found that first safari trip was just the beginning. Because like Doritos, you can't enjoy just one! Once you try it, you're hooked. We were lucky to spend nearly two full days traipsing after wildlife on this particular trip. And it just whet my appetite for more.

During our stay with the Blessmans we visited Legend Wildlife and Cultural Center near Mokopane, Limpopo Province in South Africa:

Here game keepers and naturalists care for a special strain of lion. We learned that inbreeding has made each generation of white lion more vulnerable to malformation and disease. But through careful cross-breeding with healthy normal lions, it's possible to strengthen the entire white lineage.

White lions are popular on game preserves, and with hunters too. And since wildlife tourism is big money for South Africa, you can see why they'd work hard to keep these animals healthy:

That afternoon we visited Entabene, a private game reserve near the Blessman ranch. An incredible afternoon melted into evening on the enormous preserve:

Looking forward to a great game drive:

You can see the Entabeni ridgeline for miles around:

Ant hill, or aardvark den?

Now you see him, now you don't. A black-backed jackal scuttles through the bush:

Amazingly, some of our best sightings came after dark. Toward sunset our driver, Simon, got a call over the shortwave radio from another jeep in the field. They had come upon a grand old male lion lying asleep by the trail.

He'd been seen eating a fresh gazelle carcass early in the day, and now looked three sheets to the wind. We raced to the spot--then slowly, quietly Simon cut the engine and we sat in awe, watching that big old boy sleep off his meal:

We came upon these rhinos in a ditch by the road. One of the Big Five, rhinos can be aggressive. I felt a bit safer sitting in the center of the jeep when we came up on them:

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The next week, we dipped over the border from Zimbabwe's Victoria Falls to spend a full day in one of Botswana's best parks:

In Chobe National Park we expected to see elephants. There were said to be over 60,000 of them. They don't cull the herd, and the elephants have no fear of humans. We got our wish--and then some:

From Elephant bath at Chobe National Park

From Mud slinging baby elephant at Chobe National Park

Some of the best wildlife viewing at Chobe was from the river:

After seeing only the snouts of hippos peeping from their watering holes all day, it was fun to see this (whole) hippo grazing in the marsh:

Watching a warthog family jostle and play:

A scene right out of a National Geographic special--a dung beetle doing its thing:

Traveling to Africa for volunteer work I didn't expect to see so much of the natural world. But maybe because it came as a surprise, I loved it all the more. Like I said about Doritos, you can't try just one--on that last day in Chobe I vowed that someday I'd be back.

Mixed Feelings in Zimbabwe

2011-08-12T06:10:00.001-04:00

If our three days in Cape Town were magical, Zimbabwe was a different story.

Zimbabwe is beautiful in its own way. It's scenery and wildlife are extraordinary. But our group was strangely uneasy the few days we were there. Something just didn't feel right, and I didn't understand the reason until well after we got home.

In Johannesburg airport, we reunited with Ollie. Together we boarded our international flight to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, on the next leg of our adventure:

The wait at customs was agonizingly slow. There were two desks, side-by-side, with two disdainful clerks stationed behind them--languidly perusing our passports, (pausing to chat casually with a colleague), collecting fees, (going to use the men's room), and (finally) issuing our 30-day visas.

Outside, we ran a gauntlet of oversolicitous porters. I must have spent $30 in tips just getting from the plane to our hotel room door.

Our travel agent in South Africa originally suggested hotels for us across the river in neighboring Zambia, which shares Victoria Falls. Since the rooms on that side of the falls were billed as luxurious, and we were on a charity trip, we opted for more modest lodgings in Zimbabwe.

We stayed at The Kingdom Hotel. The rooms were well-stocked with toiletries. The pool was clean, and the lawn neatly mowed. But the grounds were deserted.

And though the hotel staff were polite, no one smiled. A photo of stern-faced President Robert Mugabe looming over their front desk didn't put any of us at greater ease. I wasn't sure who felt more 'watched', the tourists or the workers themselves. The whole complex had the vague feel of Soviet Russia:

Though the hotel was clearly half-booked, the only rooms 'available' to us were way in the back. Strange.

Once unpacked we looked over the nearby excursions. That first night we took a sunset cruise on the Zambezi River. Which was absolutely delightful.

A troupe of dancers greeted us at the dock:

The 'smoke' of Victoria Falls just downriver:

The boat was a pontoon, with an aging look to it. A melancholy staff served free drinks and appetizers, and we sat back to hear the softly-played music fill the night. A timeless beauty slipped past us as we cruised the Zambezi River, just above the Falls:

Our guide taught us so much about the local wildlife. He pointed out the hippo watering holes, and knew the names of all the birds passing over and around us.

A young Shona singer entertained us as the sun set:

Shona musician

From Zambezi River cruise

That night we tried fast-food, Zimbabwe-style. The Chicken Inn looked like a typical food-court joint. The young staff wore fresh-pressed uniforms and greeted us with smiles. But my chicken 'wings' were skin and bone. I ordered a watered-down smoothie and hoped it would be enough to hold me 'til breakfast.

For change, I got a wrinkled $2 US bill and we all chuckled. I hadn't seen one in 25 years! Later we would see the worthless Zimbabwean paper dollars for sale as souvenirs on the street.

Internet access at the hotel was promised, but spotty. It was in-and-out the whole time we were there. And after pestering Mark to use his laptop to email home, only to have the hotel's system go offline for several hours, I decided I'd concede to our isolation from the world. I knew we'd be back in South Africa soon enough.

At breakfast we enjoyed fresh guava fruit at the hotel buffet:

That morning Greg, Leslie and I boarded a van to Chobe National Park, in neighboring Botswana (more about Chobe in my next post). After my first taste of safari at the Blessman ranch, I couldn't wait to get back into the bush to see more wildlife. I hoped it would be a highlight of our trip to Victoria Falls, and it turned out I was right!

Later that day, Greg went into town for an inexpensive pair of sandals for the Falls tour the next morning.

The street vendors fought over him aggressively with promises of the perfect shoe for a good price. But after several side-trips down narrow alleys, he was offered only shoes too big or over-priced--and almost gave up in despair. One audacious vendor even asked to buy the sneakers right off Greg's feet! It was a strange and silly goose chase.

Finally, someone conceded in price. And though more than they would be worth at home, he took them.

That night we ventured into town to try a local restaurant. The food was delicious, but the service was slow and the live musical performance too loud for table talk. We finally headed home on foot in the dark, mobbed by hawkers and starting to feel exhausted by the unwelcome surprises of this place.

Fortunately, the next day was a treat. We spent the morning gazing at Victoria Falls, as we walked along an outcropping just opposite it. It's the largest falling sheet of water in the world.

Victoria Falls National Park--the "Smoke that Thunders":

"Dr. Livingstone, I presume?". The immortal Victorian explorer was the first European to set eyes on the falls, in 1855. Our tour guide, Alexander, told us that the local people still respect Livingstone for his role in banishing slavery from this part of Africa:

Soaking wet at the top of the Falls:

As we walked back to the front gate, Alexander talked. He told us about his family-- how his grandfather was tortured and imprisoned after the country gained independence, for speaking out against Mugabe's regime. He told us about the famine in 2008 where many people starved, a result of unproductive farming methods following Mugabe's politically motivated land 'reforms',and the government's subsequent refusal to permit food aid distribution to political 'enemies.' Many thousands of people died in Zimbabwe's interior, unlucky to live so far from the border where they might otherwise have had some chance of sneaking across to buy food in neighboring Zambia or South Africa.

Of course I had read about Mugabe. I knew vaguely that his government was dysfunctional at best, and oppressive at worst. But here was a citizen of the country in the flesh quietly, not complaining but confiding in us, speaking of the sad truth of daily life in Zimbabwe.

These days the average Zimbabwean was waiting (but not hoping, he said, as that would be un-Christian), for Mugabe to die. I learned later from the US Department of State website that "Criticism of the President is a crime in Zimbabwe." Radio and TV programming were strictly censored. Modern healthcare was entirely lacking. The roads were unlit and unsafe.

This helped explain the weariness we felt from the people we met there.

What made this country change from one of the richest and most democratic countries in Africa, to one of its poorest and most oppressed? These books helped me make better sense of what I saw and heard on my trip:

When A Crocodile Eats the Sun, by Peter Godwin, 2008

Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight: An African Childhood, by Alexandra Fuller, 2003

Awestruck in Cape Town

2011-07-27T08:00:00.001-04:00

Saturday morning we said goodbye to the Blessmans, and went by van to Johannesburg. We flew 1time Airline (no joke) cross-country, and landed (safely, as our driver Bernard promised we would) in Cape Town mid-day.

I can't adequately describe the beauty of this part of South Africa. Words like tapestry, richness, landscape, awe come to mind. But if words don't quite convey the majesty of the place, I hope these pictures will.

In short, Cape Town is one of the loveliest places on earth.

Smack dab in the middle of the city is Table Mountain. It looms in the landscape from every direction. It's a reference point for giving directions, a sanctuary for urbanites, and the first place you must go as a tourist.

So right after we checked into our hotel, we went.

View from the cable car up to Table Mountain:

A surprising variety of plant and animal life clings to the top:

Hanging out in the clouds:

A curious rock hyrax, or 'dassie':

Dazzled by the endless vistas and late afternoon heat on Table Mountain, we didn't realize how late it was getting. By now, though, we were hungry! A fellow traveler in our hotel lobby recommended a restaurant nearby: Mama Africa.

They seated us up front. For the next two hours, with the band playing over us, we sampled curry and seafood and grooved to the lively African drumming. After a dry week with missionaries, I can tell you those beers went down well.

Live music @ Mama Africa

Sunday we were up early. From Victoria and Albert Waterfront we caught a boat to Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela spent 18 of the 27 years of his life behind bars.

I imagined that the prison tour would be depressing. But it was just the opposite-- the political prisoners' quiet, persistent resistance became for me instead a symbol of overwhelming power.

View of Cape Town and Table Mountain from Robben Island:

A bright local graduate student was our tour guide. He thanked the busload of tourists for creating the international pressure on the South African government, which helped end apartheid in 1994:

Nelson Mandela's jail cell:

Former political prisoners at Robben Island give firsthand accounts of their lives behind bars:

Back on the mainland, we hired a taxi to visit one of South Africa's famed wineries.

Our driver, David, told us about his life growing up in Cape Town, and the many changes for the people living here since apartheid ended:

We had lovely views from the front porch, and enjoyed some terrific wines:

A local tipped us off to Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden's Sundays-in-Summer concert series. It was a perfect way to cap off a busy day:

Early Monday morning, we set out to tour the Cape Peninsula. Our van took us along the gorgeous coast from Cape Town to the Cape of Good Hope:

We stopped to take a boat tour of an offshore seal colony:

At Boulder's Beach we came face to face with African Penguins at their rookery. They're also called Jackass Penguins, since their calls back and forth to one another sound just like donkeys braying. It was never meant as an insult!

My Asian fusion lunch at Boulders Beach Lodge and Restaurant:

That night we walked to Victoria and Albert Waterfront for our last dinner in Cape Town. If we had been leaving for the States just then, I might have cried. But instead we were on our way to Zimbabwe in the morning. And I couldn't wait to see what that country was all about.

Ocean Basket restaurant, at Victoria and Albert Waterfront

The Greek Fisherman restaurant, at Victoria and Albert Waterfront

KFC and a Blazing Hot Sun: Eye Clinic in Mookgophong

2011-06-07T08:15:00.004-04:00

For our last day of clinic we drove south, to the small town of Mookgopong (or Mookgophong, depending how you like to spell it--we saw it both ways on maps and signs, and t-shirts around town. During apartheid days, and depending on who you talk to now, it's also known as Naboomspruit).

Jim Blessman contacted a pastor there, and the two organized a clinic in the community church. People trickled in from all over town. We enjoyed seeing a diffrent patient population--instead of wave after wave of schoolkids, we mostly saw older townspeople. One beautiful lady was ninety-eight years old!

They waited in the hot summer sun, waving fans patiently, and chatting to pass the time.

Our team changed for clinic that day. Steve and Janice joined us. And Ollie stayed back at the Blessman ranch, waiting for a ride to the airport in Polokwane. He was leaving us for several days, taking advantage of his time in South Africa to visit old friends on the east coast.

Mark took up a position under a large shade tree outside, signing people up for exams. Inside, Janice and Karen measured vision:

Steve quickly learned how to put drops in the blinking eyes of skittish patients:

Leslie fired up the Retinomax one last time:

Greg and I wrote out prescriptions for glasses, and checked the older folks for eye diseases:

The ladies passed the time with some good stories:

It was HOT under that heavy metal roof. By 2pm we all needed a break.

Our interpreter, Kuda, suggested KFC! We all had a good laugh over that--none of us, not even the Kentuckians in our group, had eaten there in twenty years or more. And here we were in Africa discovering our love for the Colonel's secret recipe, all over again. We enjoyed every bite:

The afternoon went a lot faster, and soon we were finishing up the last few patients:

We couldn't thank the volunteers enough for all their good work:

Tired and satisfied with our eye mission, we headed back to the Blessman ranch to pack. We were ready for some R&R, and couldn't wait to explore more of the sights and sounds of Africa.

Skinned Knees and Bright Smiles: Clinic Days at Northern Academy

2011-06-07T08:00:00.002-04:00

Monday morning it was time to get our game on. Our team drove north to the provincial capital of Polokwane (also called Pietersburg). We drove right past newly built Peter Mokaba Stadium, scene of several World Cup matches in 2010.

We were going to Northern Academy, a school for orphans, where we'd been invited to do eye screenings and exams on their students in grades 5-12. All 800+ of them.

These kids were special. Most had lost their parents to AIDs. They lived as boarders in brick rooms lined with bunkbeds, adjacent to their classrooms. Or they might have sisters, an uncle, or grandparents to care for them outside the school grounds in the wider community:

They had names like Precious, Blessing, Diamond, Rejoice, Welcome:

We worked four days at the school. Each morning, as the car pulled onto the cobbled grounds, our team was met by a line of kids waiting at the door:

We quickly got to work setting up our work stations in each corner of the gymnasium.

Mark did intake, helping the students fill out the forms that they'd carry with them from station to station around the gym:

Karen tested their vision:

Ollie gently placed drops in each kids' eyes:

Armed with the unwieldy Retinomax, a machine that gives a starting point for an eyeglass prescription, Leslie measured each eye:

Greg and I worked behind curtains, to dim the natural light and allow a better set of eye readings:

Once the eye measurements were taken, the kids were sent off to dispensing. Lisa and Beth patiently explained how to care for their new spectacles:

Janice, Hilda and our young local volunteers gave out homemade cloth eyeglass cases:

These were typical kids. Naturally there was some fooling around while they waited for their turn to be tested:

Leslie showed them pictures of wintery Kentucky. Most kids had never seen snow before:

By day three, I noticed that fewer boys were in the mix. I asked a girl in the higher grades where had all the boys gone? "Ma'am," she said, "it's because the older boys get kicked out for breaking the rules."

Northern Academy seemed like a decent school. And these were smart kids--savvy and hopeful. But we learned there wasn't much of a chance that they'd finish college. Despite their hard work and proper manners, it's still too expensive for a parentless child to get a college degree here in South Africa.

This didn’t stop them from dreaming. Several girls wanted to be lawyers, others planned to work in business or accounting. One boy thought maybe he’d like to be an eye doctor someday:

On Thursday we said our goodbyes.

We were tired after four busy days of clinic but happy to have helped these kids, in our own small way.

Dirt Floors and Strong Voices--Sunday Service South African-style

2011-05-01T10:44:00.006-04:00

Sunday morning was clear and bright. Our work teams piled into the Blessmans' SUVs and we drove to Zebediela, a small town to the north. We were going to Sunday service, and I was excited. I was curious to meet some of the local people here in South Africa, and to see just what a country church service was all about.

Plus Karen was going to give the sermon, and I couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say.

As we drove into the churchyard in Zebediela, we saw a building that is a work in progress. There were brick walls and a strong metal roof, but no doors or windows to keep out the rain. And no floor either—just dirt under our shoes:

Jim Blessman explained that the construction work gets done as $$ comes in, and the congregation makes use of what they have in the meantime.

Fortunately, this part of South Africa isn't cold, so the windows are not missed. But as Lisa noted, it can get loud inside during rainy season—-at times, she said, you can hardly hear the preacher with the rattling of the rain.

We went inside and met the church pastor, Brother John. He had a gentle manner and a big smile:

We had some time to chat with the congregation before the service started. Greg joked around with some of the kids:

Soon the seats were filled, and the kids got quiet. The ceremony started with a short prayer from Simon, the young preacher who was leading the service that day:

Words were sparse, but everyone got a chance to sing. The kids came shyly forward to share a hymn:

Several groups of women spontaneously stood up to share their songs:

You can click on the photo below, then the same photo that appears in the link, to get a feel for the music we enjoyed in church that day:

Sunday Service

Karen gave a terrific sermon. I remember she talked about the salt of the earth and the light of the world. It seemed a perfect theme for service that day:

Brother John thanked us all for coming:

Afterward, we gathered in the yard to talk. And everyone asked to have their picture taken. It was a beautiful Sunday morning in Africa:

A Second Home In Africa

2011-04-28T08:00:00.009-04:00

I've been a part of five eye mission trips. And they all had one thing in common: a dedicated support group backing them up.

So I would be remiss if I didn’t applaud our strong support team in South Africa.
Our host for the eye mission, Blessman Ministries, is a Christian missionary group out of Iowa. The Ministry develops, funds and supplies workers for ongoing charity projects in Limpopo Province in South Africa, all administered from their ranch outside Mokopane.

And they have amazing folks to help them! The Blessman team is a mix of big-hearted Americans who come for weeks or months at a time to help with the charity’s long-term work projects, and a lovely fulltime African staff who keep the wheels turning behind the scenes.

At its core are husband and wife team Jim and Beth Blessman. Also on board is their full-time administrative staffer Lisa, from Iowa, and several African employees who board with them at the ranch.

There's Ronnie, a relative of the local tribal chief; Maxwell and Hilda, immigrants from neighboring Zimbabwe; a young housekeeper, Esther, also from Zimbabwe; Bonnie, a South African who works at the ranch as groundskeeper and safari guide; and his wife, the Ministries’ bookkeeper.

From the start, our eye team was folded right into the mix. We shared family-style meals in the main house, were given daily transport to our clinic sites and offered trips into town for shopping. We attended church services and were shown the Ministries’ local work projects. The Blessmans even took us on safari (more on the amazing African wildlife, in a later post!).

And how they bustled! South Africa is a nation rich in agricultural and natural resources, but the poverty levels are well above those of a fully developed nation. So there is a lot of work to be done. From dawn to dusk, each day was jam-packed with the Ministry teams' often unsung efforts. Their focus and drive was inspiring. So much so that in the end I felt, well, like something of a slacker for just doing my usual eye exams.

Here our eye team watches a children's feeding station being built, a Ministry project created on a piece of land donated by the local chief. This feeding station gives hundreds of kids in the surrounding towns one large well-balanced meal a day:

Beth Blessman and Hilda get the local mayor involved with the feeding station project:

Leslie and I shared a rondhovel during our week's stay at the ranch. The high grass is cut back from buildings and pathways, to minimize surprise encounters with deadly snakes:

Loading up the truck on our eye clinic day. The buckets on top carried eyeglasses and diagnostic equipment back and forth to the sites, an hour away:

The Ministry puts hundreds of miles on their vehicles each week, transporting teams from the Blessman ranch to outlying clinic sites throughout the province:

Running errands in the nearby town of Mokopane:

Hands down the coolest sign in town:

Here we visited a communal housing project for orphans, another Ministry work project. Each cabin can house four kids. AIDS is a huge problem in South Africa. And unfortunately, lots of kids here grow up without parents:

Local girls ham it up for Leslie's camera:

They really got a kick out of playing with American dollars:

It wasn't all work. Here some of our eye team takes in the sights and sounds of wild Africa:

Dressed up and ready to go to a charity event in Mokopane. A women's group put on the formal dinner to raise money for an orphanage they started in the community. One of the founders, a doctor in the local hospital, was appalled at the number of babies abandoned after birth--either because the babies have AIDS, or their mothers died from AIDS while still in the hospital.

A more worthy charity I can't imagine:

So what if they don't speak Spanish in South Africa?

2011-04-24T08:00:00.002-04:00

In July I got an email from an optometrist friend: did I want to go to South Africa and work with orphans in a school there?

Ever since my first VOSH trip to Argentina in March 2007, I've been hooked on doing eye exams in foreign countries. Was it the fun of speaking Spanish under the gun? The amazing camaraderie of like-minded folks pulling together to help people see? Getting out of my dark, windowless office and switching to a warm, sunny clime for a week? (Yes, yes, and...yes!).

Now each winter I pack a small bag and jump on a plane headed for a developing country. I take my technical skills, malaria pills and my camera and try my best to contribute something to the larger world.

So after about thirty seconds of careful contemplation, and much arm-twisting....I agreed that South Africa was an excellent idea for a mission. I bought my plane tickets that day--I was in!

Our team numbered six--two optometrists (Greg and myself), a retired physician (Ollie), a retired Lutheran pastor (Karen), her teacher/insurance-broker husband (Mark), and our lawyer friend (Leslie)--who we somehow convinced last minute to escape her busy office for what promised to be the trip of a lifetime.

But even the best-laid plans can go awry when Mother Nature decides to put a hand in things.

In February, our sunny thoughts of South Africa were nearly thwarted when a massive Midwestern snowstorm arrived, just as we prepared to take off. It shut down airports from Colorado to Boston. Mark and Karen rerouted twice to make it out on time. Leslie, Ollie and Greg switched airports and left a half day early to avoid being stranded.

I was lucky: it was just the normal hour and a half to JFK airport in the rain.

Our team started coming together in London. With South African Rand in our wallets and Ambien in hand, Greg, Ollie, Leslie and I boarded our red-eye to Johannesburg. We met Mark and Karen the next morning, and our now full team jumped into a rental van and headed straight for Limpopo, the northernmost province in South Africa.

Our driver, Bernard, entertained us with a running commentary of all the planes flying in and out of O.R. Tambo International that day. He's into plane-spotting and really knew his stuff, right down to the last detail--including exactly how many seats there were on the plane we just flew in on. Wild.(In case you're at all curious about this unusual hobby, you can check out his website here).

By lunchtime we were standing at the gate to our guest ranch, just outside the small town of Mokopane, where we'd be staying for the week. It's home to Blessman Ministries, a missionary group out of Iowa and our local hosts in South Africa.

By now, jet-lag and the anxiety of traveling in foul winter weather finally caught up to me. And we had work to do on Monday. So after a warm welcome, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I went off to bed.

How Is It Possible That a Month in Chile Costs Less Than a Week?

2010-06-04T11:11:00.002-04:00

A reader of my main blog, Casual Kitchen, emailed me with some great questions about how we planned out our experiences in Chile. I thought readers curious about the logistics (and costs) of longer-term travel might find it useful, so I've shared an edited version of the email exchange below.

Enjoy! And as always, if you have questions you'd like to ask Laura or me about our travels, leave a comment below or email me.
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Dear Dan:
I hope you are doing well and are not having too hard a time adjusting to life back in the U.S.

I wondered if you could tell me how you arranged for your visit to Chile. Did you make all the arrangements yourself, or was it through an organization? I’m just not sure how and when we could do something like this because of work and money, but my husband is urging me to try to figure out a way to take the kids to France, since they’ve been studying French for several years.
--An Interested Reader

Hi AIR:
Regarding our Chile experience, we arranged the logistics ourselves. We started by selecting a major city in a relatively advanced country--mainly for convenience (we were on a mission to improve our Spanish, so we put a high priority on being somewhere where we could focus on our studies rather than worrying about security or where to get bottled water, etc).

We're also involved in Couchsurfing, and I used that as my initial attempt to locate a Spanish language school in Santiago. I just asked the three or four most heavily involved people from Santiago's Couchsurfing network which school they'd recommend. Amazingly, each of them put me in touch with the same person, the director of Escuela Fronteras! We did a little more due diligence on the school and then we just picked it.

But we knew that in a huge city like Santiago, with some 6 million people, there would be other good Spanish language schools, so to be perfectly honest, I didn't worry too much which school we chose. After all, if our school sucked (which it absolutely didn't), we could finish our first 3 week course and then just go to another school. Ironically, I think it was that attitude that led us to have a mindset of being open to whatever happened to us, and it led us to what turned out to be a truly great school. We even became friends with the school's director and her husband--and they're going to come and visit us in NJ later this year.

Regarding money: There's a huge misconception out there that long term travel has to be expensive. The reality is that going someplace for 2-3 months can cost the same (yep, the same) as going to that same place for just one week. I find myself evangelizing about this all the time, but most people just can't process this idea--they usually end up arguing with me or giving me blank stares.

But consider these facts:
1) You pay the same airfare to get there, regardless of the time spent. It doesn't matter whether you go for a week or for several months. And if you are going for months, you'll have the flexibility to grab the very cheapest airfares because it doesn't matter which days you fly.

2) In almost all cities, you can rent a decent apartment for a month or more for the same price as a week in a decent hotel.

3) The apartment you rent will have a kitchen which will enable you to cook at home. Result: still more savings.

4) Because you actually "live" in this city (meaning you aren't visiting it as a tourist on a rushed, tiring and overpriced schedule), you can have more profound experiences there. Which (again, counterintuitively) costs less, because it will involve fewer overpriced guided/packaged activities.

In Santiago, we ended up renting a really nice two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with a doorman (who we constantly practiced Spanish with) and great neighbors (who we also practiced with and still email). And the cost was only about $1000 a month, including utilities, and it was in a nice neighborhood in one of South America's most expensive cities. Had we spent more time looking, I'm pretty sure we could have found even better prices.

One last thing: we did a homestay with a local host in Santiago for our first three weeks, which I strongly recommend. It really helped us with the language, and it helped us get grounded in the community (meaning: we were able to make much better decisions about where we wanted to live and HOW we wanted to live once we'd lived with this family for a week or so). Most importantly, we spoke minimal English during our stay with them, and it helped us build a habit of speaking only Spanish to each other when we went to live on our own. I'd look for a school that offers this if you can find one.

Hope that helps. If you have any more questions, just ask away!

Dan

Road Trip Chile- El Norte Grande

2010-05-13T11:41:00.000-04:00

Four days into our road trip we reached El Norte Grande, more than 1300km north of Santiago. On the fringe of the Atacama Desert, it's one of the driest places on earth.

Here we stayed over and refueled (stocking up on both gas and water) in the port city of Antofagasta. Rainfall in the city averages a paltry 4mm a year, but Antofagasta reportedly once had a severe dry spell of 40 years without a single drop of rain!

It looked like our long drive through the desert was just about to get even dustier.

The Atacama Desert is Chile's industrial north. Here copper is king- huge mines dot the desert landscape, processing plants shoot up steam night and day, and massive trucks trundle up and down the pristine highway, carrying copper to international destinations through Antofagasta's busy port.

Antofagasta's beaches are some of the sunniest on earth:

Dan fuels up on his favorite Chilean meal: churrasco!

On the road from Antofagasta to San Pedro de Atacama. Nothing but dirt and rocks for miles and miles, and no rest areas to speak of. But the Chilean roads are world class- it was smooth driving all the way:

Most weekenders from Santiago travel by air to the north, on their way to San Pedro de Atacama, near the Bolivian border. We passed the airport at Calama where they typically fly in:

Finally we made it! The road into San Pedro de Atacama is all downhill:

Valley de la Luna (Valley of the Moon):

Road Trip Chile- El Norte Chico

2010-04-13T11:40:00.094-04:00

From Valparaiso we followed the coast north, into a region called El Norte Chico. It's a land of contrasts, with pounding surf beaches mixed with desert-like landscape just a handful of kilometers in from the coast.

The waves here in Chile are fantastic, but if you come to surf bring a wetsuit. The water's icy COLD:

The coastal camanchaca (fog) brings moisture slightly inland, to a crispy dry landscape that would otherwise be barren of life:

Northern Chile is so dry, nearly all of its cities sit on the coast and along rivers that bring fresh water down from the Andes. La Serena is an old colonial port town (founded in 1544!) at the mouth of the Rio Elqui. Here we stocked up on groceries before following the river inland:

Cazuela, a typical Chilean dish:

Touring the valle del Elqui turned out to be one of the highlights of our trip. It's a mystical place with crystal clear skies, popular with New Agers and astronomers alike. Best of all, this is where they grow the grapes and produce Chile's famous pisco:

If you haven’t yet tried a pisco sour I would definitely recommend you put it on your list of "The 1000 Things To Do Before You Die"- magnificent!

At Mamalluca Observatory we got a close up view (and photo) of the moon:

From the lovely valle del Elqui we continued up the coast. We spent our last day in El Norte Chico at Parque Nacional Pan de Azucar (literally means Sugar Bread National Park), famous for its Humboldt Penguins and other sealife:

It's unusual to find penguins so close to the equator, but the rich (and very COLD) Humboldt Current brings plenty of fresh fish for them to feed on:

After our busy day at sea, we fueled up for the long drive through the desert to El Norte Grande:

Road Trip Chile- Valparaiso

2010-04-10T11:40:00.000-04:00

Since the day we landed in Santiago, we've gotten lots of excellent advice about sights to see and places to visit here in Chile. So when our formal schooling wrapped up last month, we were anxious to hit the road. We were ready to see for ourselves what this amazing country is all about!

Patricia and Martin, Couchsurfing friends we'd met in New York, came over to join us. It was their first time in South America and they wanted to see as much of Chile as we did.

So armed with enough Spanish from 6 weeks of classes, we headed north.

Valparaiso was our first stop. It's a deep port town on the coast, only an hour and a half from Santiago, and super famous in Latin America for its annual music festival.

It looks like the South American version of San Francisco, but I honestly think that the hills here are steeper!

We found a cute hotel room on one of the cerros (hills) overlooking the bay. Notice the slight damage to the walls, from the terremoto in February. Thank goodness it was only superficial:

The best thing to do in Valparaiso is walk around town:

No need for art galleries here- the whole town is covered in really incredible grafitti:

Escuela Fronteras

2010-03-14T15:38:00.028-04:00

Sure, whenever you travel somewhere, you always want to do your research first- talk to friends, relatives and co-workers about the city you'd like to visit.

But how do you choose a language school in a country over 5000 miles away?

The fact is, no guidebook could have prepared us for the quality of our Spanish language school in Santiago, Escuela Fronteras. Though it's less than a year old, this school has already developed an excellent reputation. And we can see why.

Right from the start the excellent staff help you find housing, set you up with a cell phone, even arrange your transport to and from the airport. They make the logistics of your stay so easy that you can focus totally on your Spanish lessons.

The teachers are professional, but personal and friendly too. Every morning we have four hours of intense classroom instruction. All lessons, including instructions, are given in Spanish to maximize immersion and to get you thinking in Spanish as much as possible. The students are always addressed in Spanish, and they are encouraged to speak to one another in Spanish as much as their skill level allows (though we've been known to sneak in the occasional chat during recreos, or breaks, with our English-speaking friends). :)

And if you wish to take advantage of them, the activities continue after the morning classes. Each day there's a school-sponsored activity that stretches the Spanish immersion right through the afternoon. We've taken city tours, enjoyed cooking classes, visited museums and and toured local wineries. It's a great way to enjoy the city and practice still more Spanish with classmates and new friends.

After six weeks here in Santiago, Escuela Fronteras has become a second home to us. We are incredibly happy with our experiences here and we recommend it highly to anyone who is serious about improving their Spanish.

Here's the school's executive director, Alejandra Vicencio, during a lunch with students:

The shady back courtyard is perfect for breaks and evening outdoor asados, or barbecues:

Dan's happy with the results of his latest control, or quiz:

Some cooking tips en la cocina from Christian:

And of course, there are the excursions around town that the school organizes for students: We toured Santiago's city center on our very first day of class:

We learned a lot about Chile's past at Cementerio General:

Discussing art at Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes:

Visiting Concha y Toro vineyard:

The school also helps organize weekend trips. One recent Saturday, a group of us hiked to 10,000 feet to see Glaciar El Morado:

The school donated time and resources to the people who suffered most after Chile's recent terremoto:

Santiago after the Quake

2010-03-03T11:56:00.011-05:00

Thank you all for your thoughts, good wishes, and concerns for us here in Chile. Dan and I were very lucky to be in Santiago when the terremoto happened early Saturday morning. It's a modern city with good construction and strict building codes, and most buildings escaped with very little damage.

After things quieted down early Saturday and we grabbed a couple hours of sleep, we took a walk along the main streets of Providencia, the area of Santiago where we live and go to school. While other parts of Santiago suffered more severe damage, we actually had to look hard to find any in our neighborhood:

Despite reports of looting in other parts of Chile, we saw nothing like that here in Santiago. People just ambled by this storefront on Avenida Providencia:

They had already closed off sidewalks and were well along with clean up when we walked through at 2pm on Saturday:

Nuestra Senora de la Providencia church lost its bell tower:

We are so amazed with the calm, efficient way Santiago's residents responded to the quake. Fire and police responded immediately to emergency calls, racing through the streets as soon as the quake had stopped. And clean up crews were out assessing damage and fixing downed power lines within several hours. Amazingly enough, by Monday morning we were all back to our normal routines.

Now people here in Santiago are busy collecting food and supplies to send to the badly damaged regions in the south, where some towns suffered total destruction and the people there are still without food, water and electricity.

If you'd like to contribute to Chile's earthquake relief effort, you can contact the Red Cross to make a donation.

Thoughts on Media Coverage of the Earthquake in Santiago, Chile

2010-03-02T12:18:00.003-05:00

A version of this post appeared earlier today on Dan's food blog Casual Kitchen.
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A few thoughts on the media and how deeply disappointed we've been by coverage of the quake here: It took two days for most media outlets to distinguish what happened here in Santiago from the more seriously damaged towns of Concepcion, Talca and other areas to the south.

Some news stories contained disturbing inaccuracies: an example that stands out in our minds was a Reuters story from a Saturday that mischaracterized Santiago as severely damaged. Another example: CNN-USA reported late Saturday morning that Santiago was without power, but in direct contrast to CNN's claim, one of the employees at our Spanish language school here in Santiago was in his office at the time watching that report on a live feed from his computer!

In reality, power was back on for most of the buildings in Providencia relatively quickly, within four or five hours. I guess a reporter from Atlanta who didn't check his facts must know better than the people on the ground here.

And because earthquake stories are always accompanied by obligatory photos of rubble and destroyed buildings, many people back home received the deeply inacurate impression that there was severe devastation here in Santiago.

The real story was how amazingly well Santiago weathered what turned out to be one of the most powerful earthquakes in history. The damage here was trivial, given the size of this city and the severity of the quake.

We heard that a bridge and a parking garage collapsed in the city, and a very old church right here in Providencia had half of its cupola collapse. Otherwise, damage was shockingly limited. We took a walk around town the day after the quake and saw a few broken windows and shattered street lamps, and some damage to the facades of a few buildings.

If we hadn't lived through the quake the night before, we'd have thought that a strong storm had hit and nothing more. You'd never guess that one of history's most powerful earthquakes had just struck. And the fact that our brains were still rattled and scrambled from the night before made the lack of damage seem surreal.

However, the truly severe damage was in communities some 6-7 hours' drive south of here, in smaller cities such as Concepcion and Talca. Also there were some coastal communities that received a double-whammy from both the quake and quake-related ocean swells. These communities are where your thoughts, prayers and assistance should go, not Santiago.

Keep in mind: Chile is a really long and skinny country--in fact, the distance between the northernmost and southernmost points of Chile approaches the distance between New York and California. Fortunately, over the past day or so, most of the major news outlets apparently consulted Google Maps, got their crash courses in Chilean geography, and have since straightened out their stories.

One final thought: If you think this country is like Haiti or like many of the poorer countries in Central or South America, think again. Chile is a relatively rich country, with GDP per capita in the top third globally (GDP per capita here is more the ten times Haiti's in fact). Further, this country has building codes and infrastructure that rival the most advanced cities of Europe and North America.

That's why a earthquake that was 500 times the power of Haiti's quake caused surprisingly little damage--despite the fact that it struck a huge and densely populated city. I don't think it's an exaggeration to call that a miracle.

The Earthquake

2010-02-27T09:45:00.004-05:00

Just a quick update to alert family and friends that we are safe and sound after last night's earthquake. It was one of the most surreal and frightening experiences we've ever had, and suffice it to say we expected to come to Santiago, Chile to learn Spanish, not to learn what it's like to experience a 7+ Richter magnitude earthquake at 3:30 in the morning.

A few words about the city of Santiago and how it weathered the quake. In our neighborhood of Providencia, there is little to no apparent damage to any of the buildings. The buildings and the city in general are made very well, and in our homestay host's home--other than a lot of broken plates and dishware (and the somewhat creepy fact that both the stove and refrigerator came unmoored and moved 2-3 feet across the kitchen floor)--there is surprisingly little damage.

But during the worst of the quake, we had no idea what to do. It was nearly impossible to stand up without holding onto something, and the main quake seemed to go on forever, accompanied by the sound of things falling and glass breaking throughout our homestay host's home.

Now, some 8 hours after the initial main tremor, there are still periodic aftershocks, a few of them disconcertingly strong. What's more disconcerting is how the ground has been vibrating, constantly, ever so slightly, for hours. It feels alive, for lack of a better word.

We are very lucky that Santiago is one of the most modern cities in the western hemisphere, but other cities in the country were not so lucky. Concepcion, for example, where a friend of ours lives, suffered much more damage and we are still awaiting word from her.

Right now, the city is quiet and except for the ground occasionally vibrating, you'd think it was a typical Saturday morning. The power is on, internet is on and the phones are working.

We'll share more on the situation here as things develop.

El Cementerio General

2010-02-22T07:36:00.001-05:00

The language school we attend here in Santiago keeps us busy with classes every morning, and homework each night. But in the afternoons Dan and I take advantage of the local outings they plan for us too. It helps us to get a feel for the city, and for Chilean culture as a whole.

One day last week we took the Metro to the Cementerio General en el Barrio Bellavista, a norhtern neighborhood of Santiago:

It's true I have a rather strange habit of checking out the local cemeteries , wherever I go. For me it's a window into the habits and customs, and history, of the local people.

The Cementerio General in Santiago reminds me of La Recoleta Cemetery in Buenos Aires, where Evita Peron is buried. The wealthy people built family tombs in many different styles. They look like little houses:

There are all kinds of family names on the tombs. Chile truly is a melting pot:

People of all backgrounds and professions are buried in the cemetery- presidents and national heroes and common laborers alike. Here is the tomb of Chile's famous president, Salvador Allende::

Poorer people may only be able to afford a small plot near the perimeter:

These looked like apartment blocks. As in life, so in death.....

Even Chile's famous soccer team has a tomb for its players:

At the main entrance of the cemetery is an important memorial to Pinochet's victims. Thousands of everyday people who opposed his regime were "disappeared", and many were secretly executed without trial.

Happy Valentine's Day

2010-02-15T15:07:00.000-05:00

Happy Valentine's Day!!

Dan and I were lucky to spend our Valentine's Day with new friends here in Santiago. We all enjoyed a wonderful dinner at a theological institute in the city, Comunidad Cristiana Casa Grande, in a building that was originally a childhood home of Chile's outgoing president, Michelle Bachelet.

The evening featured typical Chilean disfrutas: lots of good food, plenty of talking, great live music, karaoke, and good fun all around.

With us at dinner were Monica and her novio Raul, and Ale and her fiance Paul. Monica is our homestay host here in Santiago and she's gone all out to help us settle in here in Chile.

Ale is not only a new friend, she's also the executive director of the exceptional language school we're attending here in Santiago, Chile, Escuela Fronteras (we'll talk more about our great experiences at the school in future posts).

Monica takes a turn at karoke:

And Ale and Paul give it their all:

Scenes of Santiago

2010-02-08T08:40:00.001-05:00

Santiago is a modern city in a temperate climate. We've come in the drier summer season so blue skies should be the norm, though we've read that pollution can be a real problem here.

A mix of old and new:

The city runs east to west along both sides of the Mapocho River, which flows straight out of the Andes Mountains just 1+ hour drive to the east:

The Fuente Aleman in Parque Forestal, which runs along the Mapocho River:

An advertisement for a major theater production:

Buildings along Avenida Providencia near our language school:

We learned that many people leave the city during the summer holidays, gathering at weekend and summer homes by the seaside. Santiago was quiet over the weekend, and many businesses were closed:

Now that we've got our bearings, we hope we're ready for our first day of language classes! Wish us luck...

Getting Settled in Santiago

2010-02-06T15:25:00.014-05:00

We've arrived in Santiago! Straight off a red-eye from JFK, we woke to summer in the southern hemisphere.

The fields we saw from the airplane turned out to be some of the many vineyards active in the Central Coast region of Chile. They produce some of the best wines in the world.

Chile has a strict ban on agricultural products coming into the country from other countries. It's their way of protecting their own local species from invasion by foreign pests. At customs, there was some question as to whether our granola bars were welcome here. Turns out the honey-flavored ones were not, and they went straight into the basura.

Fortunately Dan and I felt comfortable in the country right from the start. The subway system (so much cleaner than New York's!) got us into the city center quickly and safely, and for less than $1 each.

Our hotel and the Spanish language school we've enrolled in are just a block or two from the subway line:

School starts on Monday, so we still had plenty of time to walk around and get to know the city.

It's always fun to sample the local brews:

Here Dan's enjoying a churrasco, a typical Chilean sandwich- grilled sliced meat, guacamole, tomato and mayo piled onto "hamburger bread":

The cafe culture is alive and well in Santiago. We got our midday dose of caffeine along with a Spanish lesson at this popular spot that serves breakfast all day:

In the evenings we poured over guide books and studied our notes from the day's wandering. It sure will be strange to be a student again.

Good Bye Hawaii: Our Farewell to Paradise

2009-06-30T08:39:00.083-04:00

You'd think we'd feel wistful during our last days in Hawaii. With thoughts of going back to work, the uncertainty of a career change for Dan and reports of the lousy weather we'd be returning to back home in NJ, who could blame us for being glum. AND we were leaving our beloved Hawaii behind.

But, shockingly, our final week wasn't sad at all- it was happy. Our final days simply reminded us of why we went to Hawaii in the first place and why we know we'll return someday.

Why? Certainly we appreciated the beautiful weather we had every day in the islands. And we couldn't get enough of all the local activities available to us, not to mention the wide array of cuisines there for the sampling.

But in the end it's the time we spent with other people that we'll treasure most.

We joined our dear friends Tammy and Mark for a delicious dinner at Roy's to celebrate their 17th wedding anniversary. And spent a long evening joking around with their kids as we savored the amazing food. We also toasted to the opening of their brand new medical practice.

How could we be sad in the midst of so much excitement and joy? Somehow we even felt cheerful as the waiter brought out the bon voyage dessert. We all smiled knowingly around the table, because we'd just been talking about when we were coming back!

Patricia and Marissa, our friends from Austria, kept us laughing and filled our last days in Hawaii with adventure. It was fun seeing our favorite places on Oahu through their eyes. There's nothing quite like showing people around to remind you why you love a spot in the first place.

Having Marissa and Patricia with us gave us a good excuse to go see the turtles at Laniakea Beach, on the north shore of Oahu- something we'd never made time for before. We all got a thrill watching the peaceful honu slumbering the afternoon away.

Granted, our last few days did involve tying up some loose ends before we could go home. But through it all, we knew this wasn't really good-bye. And in some sense we felt like we were taking part of Hawaii home with us for good.

Even when we returned our friend Carol's surfboard, our trusty companion during countless hours of surfing, we felt more excitement than regret. It only reminded us that in a matter of days we would see Carol herself, back on the tennis courts in New Jersey.

We said good-bye to our comfortable condo, our home away from home for so many weeks. We sure were going to miss those views! Mike, our local real estate agent and friend, gave us a hearty sendoff. And we agreed to look his brother up in NYC, once we got home.

We'll never forget the wonderful people we met in Hawaii and the good times we shared with them. Nor the stunning natural beauty that is part of the fabric of daily life there. We knew we'd found a true gem in these islands, a constantly surprising and unique place that feels like a second home.

So it didn't really feel like good-bye when we finally drove off to the airport Sunday afternoon. It's only a temporary departure. We know deep down we'll be back soon.

A hui hou, as they say in Hawaii. Until we meet again.

All Around Pearl Harbor

2009-06-28T08:02:00.018-04:00

Growing up, I spent a good chunk of time wandering through museums on our family vacations. And I've gotten pretty expert over the years at smelling out the boring ones.

Fortunately, Pearl Harbor is not one of them.

I admit I was suspicious at first, which is maybe why it took me so long to get here in the first place. I'm just not a big fan of war mechanics- besides the chilling aspect of military operations, machine guns, torpedo physics, and even real-life tank and plane displays usually leave me cold.

But this museum is all about the people behind the machines. There is something here that everyone can relate to- young, old, male, female, veteran and pacifist alike.

Five separate sites scattered around the Harbor keep you on the move. The displays are brief, matter of fact and hands-on. And the information is surprisingly neutral- we hear almost as much from the Japanese perspective in that era as we do from the Americans fighting the war in the Pacific.

And thankfully, nowhere were we overwhelmed by too much data. You can easily read the information at each display in minutes and move on. Which gives visitors to the park time to absorb what they've just read, and come to their own conclusions about what happened during the war. I was really impressed by that.

Here's the USS Bowfin, a fully outfitted World War II sub. We had a blast scrambling around in the cramped spaces belowdecks:

The air traffic control tower on Ford Island, soon to be renovated as part of the Pacific Aviation Museum:

View of Ford Island from a Japanese Zero fighter's perspective. The USS Arizona is in the cluster of ships in the upper right corner:

A plane that President Bush, Sr. flew during flight training:

The USS Arizona Memorial, dedicated in 1962, and opened to the public in 1980:

A submerged part of the ship:

The Arizona's rusty smokestack:

500,000 gallons of oil still remain aboard the Arizona. And only 10,000 gallons have leaked out of the ship's engines since 1941. Oil continuously bubbles up to the surface to this day:

The roster of servicemen lost when the Arizona was bombed on December 7, 1941:

Believe it or not, we didn't actually see all the sites at Pearl Harbor this time. I'm saving a few for when we come back.

Learn more about visiting Pearl Harbor:
USS Arizona
USS Bowfin
Pacific Aviation Museum

Dim Sum Anyone?: Our Adventures in Chinatown

2009-06-25T07:37:00.016-04:00

Way back in March when we first came to Hawaii, we knew we wanted to surf and blog and generally take advantage of being near the equator and get in some daily fun in the sun. So it's somewhat surprising to both of us that one of our favorite things to do here is shop. Not just any shopping of course, though the malls here are excellent. We discovered Chinatown.

We seem to end up there almost every week, stopping off for a delicious dim sum lunch at Legend or Golden Palace, and then browsing for hours in the local markets nearby.

Besides wonderful chinese meals, we get lost in street after street of Asian markets full of fresh seafood, fruits and vegetables, and traditional medicines. The lei wholesalers are clustered here too. It's crowded, and noisy and sometimes there are shady characters lurking at the bus stops. But it's not a boring place, and that's why I think we like it so much.

We always come home loaded up with fresh fruits and veggies. We used to come looking for good bargains on fresh fruit for smoothies. But soon enough our trips to the Asian markets in Chinatown turned into a hobby. Our goal? To unearth the strangest foods we could find, take them home- and blog about them.

It's a whole new world of Asian cuisine we'd never explored before. Makes me wonder sometimes, where have we been all our lives to have missed out on such amazing stuff?

One place Dan actually likes to shop:

We'll have one of everything please:

Yummy rambutan fruit:

I'm actually not sure what this is, but it didn't taste good at all:

Delicious ube, or purple yams, and their very mysterious green cooking broth:

House of the Sun: Views From Haleakala

2009-06-22T08:06:00.003-04:00

The drive up Haleakala volcano was one of the highlights of my Maui trip.

Haleakala means "House of the Sun" in Hawaiian. Legend has it that the demigod Maui lassoed the sun at the summit, to forever slow its movement across the sky.

I drove from sea level to 10,000 feet in about an hour, following the switch-back road up the broad flank of the volcano toward its summit, passing small truck farms and homes set in the hillsides along the way.

For several miles I cruised through drizzly cattle ranchland until the road finally wound its way up above the clouds, into barren, dry parkland.

The landscape above the clouds seemed like a desert, mostly lava rock and random clumps of flowers and tiny plants. Here many rare and endangered plant species make their home, including the beautiful silversword, which grows only at these higher elevations on Haleakala here in Maui, and on Mauna Kea, on the Big Island of Hawaii.

I finally reached the summit, and looked down into the mighty crater. It looked more than a little bit like the surface of Mars. The air was chilly, and I nearly got blown off the mountain.

They say the island of Manhattan could fit inside the crater:

This way back down to earth:

I didn't have the time or the wardrobe to take a hike that day. But that just gives me another reason to come back.

Maui No Ka Oi: Maui is the Best

2009-06-19T08:02:00.012-04:00

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of going to school on Maui. Well not school exactly: I attended a four day optometric conference. I figured it was a good way to get mentally prepared for work again, after so much time away from the office.

Normally fourteen hours in a classroom would really get me down. But fortunately this conference was unique: I sat through classes with a good friend, and after 12 noon we had the rest of each day free.

What could have been four days of pure drudgery turned into a wonderful vacation, on one of the prettiest islands in the world.

Maui has so much to offer, that you can only start to make a dent in three days. But that didn't stop me from trying to pack in as much as possible in the short time I had.

Friday after class, I drove the long winding road up Haleakala (Hah-lay-ah-kah-LAH), East Maui's famous volcano. Though I opted out of the popular dawn tours, I did get some fantastic mid-day views from the highest point on the island. Amazing!

Later that day, after winding my way back down from Haleakala's summit, I joined my friend Tammy and her family at Mama's Fish House in the artsy north Maui town of Paia. We feasted on delicious local fish, relaxed in the open air environment and witnessed a classic Maui sunset.

The next day was one of the best snorkeling trips I've had yet in Hawaii.
Honolua Bay is a well-kept secret just up the road from our busy hotels in Ka'anapali. The conditions were perfect in the protected bay, the coral was beautiful and we saw a ton of fish. This was by far the most sea life I've seen all in one place. Incredibly, we saw many of these very same fish highlighted at the aquarium the next day.

On Sunday we burst out of class like kids getting let out for summer vacation. But none of us was quite ready to head back to Oahu yet.

Our final stop was the Maui Ocean Center, a wonderful aquarium in central Maui featuring native Hawaiian sea life. It's conveniently located just a few miles from the main Maui airport.

It was fun seeing the fish from the other side of the glass:

This guy hung around until I took his picture:

A flounder shows off his very strange shape:

Our time on Maui flew by, and before I knew it it was time to head home. But I had learned firsthand why the locals here say, without seeming to boast, "Maui is the best."

Hawaiian Music and Hula Under the Stars

2009-06-15T08:36:00.007-04:00

Almost every week we've been here in Hawaii, Dan and I get dollied up island-style and walk over to enjoy happy hour at the Halekulani Hotel's House Without A Key. Built in 1917 in an era when ships crossed the Pacific to bring those early tourists to Waikiki, the Halekulani is still considered one of the finest hotels in Hawaii today.

Sometimes we have guests fresh from the mainland in tow. But often we'll go just for a date. It was a night here together several years ago that made us decide we wanted to come back and live here some day.

We sit on the lawn under the graceful old kiawe tree (that's Hawaiian for mesquite)with surfers just offshore, feeling the warm trade winds and watching the sunset colors wash over Diamond Head across the bay.

Here we feel nostalgic, and hopeful for the future, all at the same time.

The Halekulani has elegant grounds and a world class oceanfront location. But the hotel is truly famous for its hospitality. It's their tradition to greet guests as if they were returning family members. The hostesses, waiters, and even the band members go out of their way to make you feel right at home.

They also make a mean umbrella drink:

But mostly we come for the music. Every week, on a rotating basis, small group ensembles play oldtime and traditional Hawaiian songs. I never get tired of those steel guitar licks that seem to end every song.

And then there's Kanoe Miller. She's a former Miss Hawaii, and a fixture at the Halekulani's House Without A Key since 1983. Several times throughout the evening she performs beautiful hula with the ensemble:

Her graceful manner embodies the warm spirit of aloha:

And here she is doing traditional hula with the group Pa'ahana backing her up:

This is one place we are truly going to miss!

Kona's New Competition: Exploring Kauai Coffee Country

2009-06-12T07:26:00.000-04:00

In my next life, I want to be a coffee tree on the island of Kauai.

After our spectacular visit to Waimea Canyon our car made an impulsive detour on the way home, down a little country road in the town of Kalaheo, following signs to the Kauai Coffee Company.

We found the visitor center in a sea of coffee trees, high up on a hill. Acre upon acre of oversized bushes spread out around us, row upon row rolling down the gentle slopes right to the edge of the sea. The amazing views just don't get much better than that, and I decided right there those were the luckiest trees in the world.

The landscape was lovely and I could have stared at it for days, but the strong scent of coffee wafting from the nearby visitor center soon drew our attention away.

A friendly staff person pointed us straight to the tasting area in the back. And there we found two dozen cannisters of freshly brewed, full-strength samples of homegrown coffee, just waiting to be tasted. Every style of roast and bean the company grew and manufactured was on full display. Even decaf.

"But you won't be wanting any of that," the staffer assured us. We looked at each other and shrugged, wondering if maybe we had the desperate look of coffee addicts written clearly on our faces.

Dan wanted to see just how these beans are grown:

By the time we hit the giftshop I knew why they have you sample the coffee FIRST: all that caffeine put us into shopping overdrive. We spent only a few minutes in the store, but somehow enough coffee-related food and novelities jumped off the shelves into our arms to satisfy our entire gift list for the folks back home.

And yes, we remembered to grab some coffee for our breakfast the next day too:

Deja Vu in Waimea Canyon

2009-06-09T07:19:00.001-04:00

Though we were happy as clams spotting sea turtles and monk seals at the beach near our cottage, we made sure to set aside one day on Kauai to visit a Hawaiian landmark: the famous Waimea Canyon. Like seeing hot lava on the Big Island, or touring Pearl Harbor on Oahu, no trip to Kauai would be complete without it.

Take one ancient split in the earth, follow it up with a millenia of erosion, and what you get is an amazingly deep canyon of orange and purple rocks, with a narrow river winding along the bottom. WAY DOWN at the bottom.

Though we could have taken advantage of the many hiking trails in the canyon, we opted for the lazy person's driving tour instead, making sure to stop at several overlooks along the way to take a peek into the abyss. The views were spectacular, stretching from one horizon to the other, and three-quarters of a mile straight down to the river below.

As we gaped into the magnificent chasm, we wracked our brains trying to think just exactly how we would describe this to the folks back home....mmmmm.....somehow it seemed so familiar, but also like nothing we'd ever seen before.......And just then the guy next to us turned to his friend and said, "It's like the Grand Canyon. Only greener." Yup, that was exactly right.

Turns out it also struck Mark Twain that way, well over a century ago. Legend has it he was the first to dub Waimea Canyon, the "Grand Canyon of the Pacific."

We followed the winding road deep into the park until it ended, four thousand feet above sea level. And found ourselves up in the clouds. They literally wafted through the parking lot as we got out to take a last look.

At first we couldn't see a thing through that misty air. But after just a few minutes a cool breeze whisked the clouds away completely, and an amazing scene emerged at our feet. WAY DOWN below us, a deep valley opened to the sea. Kalalau Beach was tiny in the distance. Specks of white turned out to be waves, dappling the blue expanse at the horizon.

Four thousand feet above sea level, it's tough to really get a handle on the perspective. At the center of this picture, you'll see the tiny white streak of a boat's wake along the coast, VERY far away:

Seeing Dan in the foreground still doesn't give a proper sense of scale:

To the west, the mysterious island of Niihau emerged from the mist. Privately owned, it's off limits to the public, hence the nickname the "Forbidden Isle." It's also known as the "Isle of Yesterday" because the two hundred or so native Hawaiians residents don't use electricity or drive cars, and their primary language is still Hawaiian. It's a little bit like Amish country, island-style.

We felt a little sneaky peeking over in their direction:

This photo gives you an idea of the dry landscape of western Kauai, near Waimea Canyon:

Back in the little town of Waimea we stopped at Jo Jo's Shave Ice for a yummy treat to end a spectacular day.

Snorkeling

2009-06-07T07:31:00.005-04:00

Hawaii is a snorkeler's paradise. Public beaches with off-shore reefs ring the islands, literally everywhere you turn. And the best beaches offer clean, warm and very clear water.

Any reef can offer decent snorkeling. Just check out the local surf conditions, put on your face mask and fins, and go. Heck, we've even seen people snorkeling out among the surfers at Waikiki beach. But some snorkeling spots trump the rest- it's just a matter of finding them.

So thank goodness for my handy Lonely Planet guide to Diving and Snorkeling in Hawaii. It gives excellent descriptions of many good snorkeling spots around the islands: the shoreline access, water depths, warnings about local currents, and what kind of sea life to expect in each spot. It's like a Zagat rating for snorkeling enthusiasts.

The best snorkeling beaches for novices like us are enclosed reefs. They're shallow and safe from waves, currents and big fish with sharp teeth. The bottom is sandy and the reef close to shore. My favorites are the famous Haunauma Bay, on Oahu; Kee Beach on Kauai; and Kahaluu Beach on the Big Island of Hawaii. All are perfect for beginners and just loaded with fish. And the occasional sea turtle (or honu, as they're locally known) too.

It's kind of like swimming in a giant aquarium.

Maybe It Should Be Called the Chicken Isle

2009-06-05T07:05:00.005-04:00

Within hours of landing in Kauai, we met our closest neighbors: a local family of feral chickens- mom, dad, chicks and all.

Though originally brought to all the major Hawaiian islands by the ancient polynesians, the chickens (or moa, as they're called locally), have pretty much taken over the Garden Isle.

This is the one island that never imported mongooses, a natural enemy. And a massive hurricane in the 1990's released a fresh batch of illegal fighting cocks from their cages, adding a certain assertiveness to the local chicken population. They can definitely take care of themselves.

Though we're gently admonished not to encourage the birds, no one really seems to have much interest in fixing the situation. There's a generally accepted, typically Hawaiian, policy of coexistence here.

Sure, those roosters can be loud in the wee hours of the morning. But they're not aggressive, are strikingly beautiful, and as far as I can tell they definitely earn their keep by eating lots of ants and other pests. And unlike Canada geese back home, they don't leave piles of poo around.

They're part of the landscape here, so we just do what the locals do: live and let live. And wear earplugs to bed.

Not So Shy After All: Meeting A Monk Seal

2009-06-03T07:42:00.003-04:00

We didn't plan much for our first day on Kauai. We knew we'd be busy just getting ourselves to the island, meeting with the rental property owners and moving in.

Fortunately we didn't have to go far to find excitement. Right outside the front door of our beach house, on a small sandy beach under some coconut trees, we saw a female monk seal resting.

Since there are only 35 monk seals on Kauai, we felt extremely lucky to meet one. They are protected by both state and federal law, so the area around her was roped off, to give her space to rest. AND to protect her from any human contact. Two recent seal killings this spring have made authorites extra vigilant and eager to educate the public about the fragile status of Hawaii's indigenous seal population.

We spoke quietly with Mary, the local Kauai Monk Seal Watch Program volunteer, who donated her entire afternoon just to watch over this seal and chat with area residents and curious passersby, as the seal dreamed the day away.

I swear she smiled as she slept:

It's Not Venice, But It's Close: Living on the Ala Wai Canal

2009-05-28T07:28:00.001-04:00

Right now we have the good fortune to live near one of Waikiki's most famous features: a long, straight channel of water called the Ala Wai Canal. Constructed in the 1920s to drain the many streams in the area, the dredged dirt was then used to fill in the swampland along the beautiful Waikiki shoreline.

Building permits were issued, hotels and shops quickly went up- a tourist center was born.

People flock to the paved path that runs the length of the canal. From the crack of dawn until late in the evening tourists and locals alike run, cycle, power walk or take a lazy ramble along its placid waters.

It's definitely an outdoor culture here. On any given day you'll see young families with strollers, kids on skateboards, people feeding pigeons, and the occasional homeless person sleeping peacefully on a bench. There are lots of fish, but only two kinds, and some birds. The water is not very clean because of regional storm run-off, but this doesn't seem to bother the fishermen who regularly come to try their luck.

Although motorized boats aren't allowed on the canal, we do see a dozen or more outrigger canoes plying the waters each day. The paddlers are out on the water as the sun rises, and back again in early evening when it's cooler out, and they've finished work. We've seen many more boats out practicing in recent weeks now that it's racing season.

Just across the canal are the public ballfields, bustling by afternoon with baseball, soccer and basketball games all going on simultaneously. It's a busy place. The lights stay on late into the night- we often hear the crack of baseball bats and the swell of cheers as we're falling asleep. Small groups gather for doggie play-dates at the fringes.

Even on a rare rainy day, you can still enjoy wonderful views and a canal-side meal at The Cream Pot. Their crepes are fabulous!

Surfing Serenity

2009-05-26T07:15:00.002-04:00

Surfing has completely changed for us lately. Now that we're putting the pieces together, getting the basics down in this sport, we're less distracted by details and having much more fun.

It helps that the summer swells are pushing up consistently bigger waves to ride. We're reading them better now too- we can spot a good one coming and get ready for it, when just a few weeks ago we might have been side-swiped and left tumbling in its wake.

We're stronger paddlers, and each session we're out on the water longer. Now we rest when we're waiting for waves, rather than collapsing with fatigue after the paddle from shore.

There's Dan in the line-up, far right:

We've learned that waves come in sets: two, three and four surfable swells come one after another. So it's OK to let the first one pass. As it turns out, it's actually good etiquette too: we let the better surfers take those first couple, then follow along behind so we don't get in each other's way.

And we're staying up longer to enjoy the longer ride:

Usually there's a fifteen or twenty minute lull between sets. The sea goes flat and quiet, looking for all the world like it'll never send another wave our way. We sit, and flex our legs, look around a bit.

Some days, waiting is the best part of surfing. The other day I looked down through the clear green water and noticed a large rock at the ocean bottom. I'd seen them down there before, but this particular rock almost looked like it was floating.

How silly, I thought. No, I must be drifting with the current- it couldn't be moving away from me.

But it kept sliding to one side, quicker and quicker, and seemed to be lifting. Look! It's a turtle coming up, a star shape rising.

The round, leathery head popped through the surface, dipped under, and came up again.

"Hello, honu," I said, smiling.

It's Not Just For Vacation Anymore: Discovering Waikiki's Special Charms

2009-05-24T07:38:00.007-04:00

When most people hear Waikiki, they think of the beach. And certainly the famous mile-long strand of hotels, shops and shoreline is a big draw for tourists from all over the world.

The lobby in the Royal Hawaiian hotel, affectionately nicknamed the Pink Palace:

There are TONS of Japanese tourists here:

If you walk around the area a bit, though, you'll see a real mix of accommodations, which speaks to the wide variety of folks who come here. Besides the branded hotels that cater to vacationers, the side streets offer housing for longer-term visitors as well- from cheap crash-pads for surfers, to the fancy high-rise second homes of wealthy snowbirds.

And while most people think of Waikiki as strictly a resort destination, it's also a living, breathing neighborhood within the wider city of Honolulu. Sure, many businesses cater to tourists here, but tucked in among the hotels and chain restaurants you'll also find schools, churches, grocery stores, and family-run eateries frequented mostly by locals.

Since all Hawaiian beaches are open to the public, there isn't that strict divide between visitors and tourists, like in many resort areas. Waikiki is the playground for locals too: surfers, paddlers, runners, and cyclists all come to enjoy the city-maintained facilities.

The Waikiki Shell is a popular venue for large concerts, and Kalakaua Avenue, which runs through the heart of Waikiki, is used year-round for city parades and festivals. Since we've been here, we've enjoyed a celebration for Prince Kuhio Day, a parade for visiting marching bands, and the annual Spam Jam festival, all just a few blocks from our condo.

A local boy jumping off the pier at Kuhio Beach:

The famous local surf breaks at Waikiki, busy even as the sun is setting:

There's something for everyone here. And no way to ever be bored.

Lovely Hawaiian Lei

2009-05-22T07:46:00.004-04:00

Every special occasion in Hawaii calls for a lei: they're worn over even the fanciest dresses or suits. And no Hawaiian wedding, birthday party, graduation, awards ceremony, or musical performance would be complete without them.

Lei (spelled the same whether singular or plural, like "sheep") are worn as a necklace or placed on the head like a wreath. And always given with a smile and a hug or kiss.

And, yes, men wear lei too.

Lots of different native Hawaiian plants are used to make leis: flowers, but also leaves and fruits can be incorporated into lei. Lei can be as simple as a single strand of flowers. Or very complex- some lei incorporate many different plant materials into their intricate design, requiring many hours of work.

And some lei are not made of plants at all- the Island of Niihau is famous for its intricate leis made of tiny, colorful local shells.

There aren't many rules when it comes to wearing lei, just a few things to keep in mind: It's considered rude to remove a lei in the presence of the person who has given it to you, so if you must take one off before the celebration is over, do it discreetly. In general, a lei should never be refused, though don't be overly upset if a pregnant woman declines one: Hawaiian superstition warns that lei may choke the developing fetus.

No matter what the occasion, lei never fail to bring out the smiles in everyone:

Learn to make lei at home:

The Best Flower Guide Money Can Buy

2009-05-16T08:11:00.004-04:00

On any given day lately you may catch me peering down at bushes and up into trees, pausing suddenly to flip through a book while a triumphant grin spreads across my face, fluttering from one end of Waikiki to the other like an intoxicated bumblebee.

I've always loved flowers, but after last month's confusing trip to Lyon Arboretum I made it a personal goal to actually learn the names of the tropical beauties that scent the air and brighten the bushes everywhere we turn here in Hawaii.

I tried the library, the internet, even Barnes and Noble- all without luck.

But lately I'm identifying the flowering bushes and trees around town with much greater success, thanks to a wonderful plant guide from our local ABC store: "Hawaii's Floral Splendor," by ecologist Angela Kay Kepler.

Dr. Kepler worked and lived in Hawaii for many years, and is especially talented at sharing her knowledge with us amateurs. Her book finally turned these lush tropical mysteries into striking individuals, with stories all their own.

Yellow-vein, commonly used for hedges:

The photos she uses are perfect- not as great art, but for scientific clarification, with crucial close-up shots that include leaves as well as flowers. The text adds helpful information not always found in even the best field guides: where the plants are originally from, and in which microclimates they may be found (ie mid-elevations).

Occasionally the book even names specific locations where you can see certain plants around town (ie "found along Kalakaua Avenue in Waikiki"). No more looking for moisture-loving plants on the dry slopes of Mauna Kea!

Here's a lovely example of heavenly bamboo, in a neighbor's front yard:

The chapters are organized by color- brilliant! Perfect for visual-learners like me, who snap photos first, ask questions later- and end up with photo albums full of beautiful but anonymous flowers.

And because some flowers come in several different shades, they may show up in several different places throughout the book (ie bougainvillea is listed in the orange, purple, red and white chapters), making it easy to find the version that YOU saw.

Speak of the devil, here's a gorgeous purple version:

Now on my walks around town, I recognize almost eighty percent of the plants that I see. The very same ones I used to pass blindly over now practically shout out their names to me: Trumpet tree! Coral tree! Shower tree- that's me! Tulip tree!....

....spider lily:

Spider lily fruits:

Royal poinciana:

Beautifully scented plumeria, one of my favorites:

Shower tree (rainbow variety):

Silver trumpet tree:

Bright kou-haole flowers:

These monkey pod trees line many streets:

African tulip tree:

Thank you, Dr. Kepler!

The Hawaiian Love Affair with SPAM

2009-05-11T03:31:00.000-04:00

Hawaiians absolutely love SPAM. And mainlanders, when they learn this surprising fact, always react with confusion and funny looks. I mean, really now, who eats SPAM?

Well, Hawaiians do. With a vengeance:

1) Citizens of Hawaii consume more SPAM per capita than any other state in the US.
2) SPAM is a legacy of GI rations from World War II. The canned meat found its way into the diets of local Hawaiians during and after the war, thanks to SPAM's low cost and the fact that it can be shipped long distances without refrigeration.
3) SPAM also became popular throughout many countries and territories throughout the Pacific, including Guam, the Mariana Islands, the Phillippines and even Korea.
4) SPAM is on the menus of both Burger King and McDonald's in Hawaii.
5) One of the more common ways to eat SPAM in Hawaii, Korea and the Philippines is SPAM musubi: a slab of spam over rice, held together with a seaweed wrap.

Not only do Hawaiians love SPAM, but each year, Honolulu's Waikiki district hosts an annual street fair dedicated to SPAM. It takes place at the end of April and it celebrates Hawaiian culture, music and food. It's one of Waikiki's most popular community events.

All of the restaurants in the area serve SPAM-inspired foods, which get gobbled up by hungry tourists and locals...

...and there were temporary stages set up on each end of the festival, featuring dozens of performers showing off traditional and modern Hawaiian music and dance.

Yes, that's right, this beautiful hula dancer is wearing a SPAM hat on her head.

If you're not from here, it can be difficult to understand the love affair Hawaii has with SPAM. The other day we were trying to explain SPAM Jam to some Italian friends, who had asked us, "why would anyone host a street festival about unwanted email?" And in a preposterous twist of fate, a vegetarian friend was visiting us during this year's SPAM Jam. "What exactly is SPAM?" she asked us.

It is a bit difficult to explain isn't it? It's meat, sort of. It's pork, I guess. And it comes in a can. It's really salty. And they write haikus and Monty Python skits about it. Naturally, she wanted to see this festival for herself.

There's only one state in the Union that would have a festival dedicated to SPAM without a trace of self-consciousness or irony. And that, in a nutshell, is exactly why we love Hawaii.

An alternate version of this post appears on Casual Kitchen.

Girls on Hot Lava

2009-05-09T07:27:00.015-04:00

Ever since we visited Volcanoes National Park in 2003 and were turned away by zealous park rangers worried about noxious fumes, I've been dying to see active lava.

Hot lava. The kind you see on National Geographic specials. Lava that streams down mountainsides burning up trees, buildings, roads and everything else in its path. Liquid lava that burbles and blobs along without consulting anyone about where it's going, or where it will pop up next. Pulled by gravity until it plunges hissing into the sea.

The visitor's center lava videos surely didn't do justice to the real thing. Crestfallen at my lost opportunity, I vowed to return someday.

So when our friend Leeza suggested a trip to the Big Island last week, wanting to see lava, I was thrilled. Here was my chance!

We took an early evening flight to Hilo, and grabbed a couple hours of sleep in the little town of Pahoa, before meeting up with the crew from Lava Ocean Adventures just before dawn the next morning.

I didn't really think much at first about the boat ride to the lava flows. The website showed a flat-bottomed boat with lots of elderly folks in floppy hats, snapping photos. So I was more than a little suspicious as we clambored aboard a powerful catamaran in near total darkness. My suspicion turned to outright alarm when our boat pilot, Shane, abruptly gunned the engines the minute we hit water.

We flew! This is crazy, I thought, as we smashed through ocean swells the size of SUVs. Someone is going to bounce right out of this boat.....

"Hold on!" Shane shouted over the gusty wind and the roar of the engines.

We did. Up front on the sun deck Leeza and I were tossed around like cloth dolls- thrown up and down, our elbows smashed and sides rubbed raw against the gunwales, salt spray lashing our faces, on the wildest thirty minute ride of our lives. It was like riding a bucking bronco down a waterslide. We screamed and squawked and held on tight and somehow stayed aboard.

It was all quite exhilarating until one of the other passengers casually said,"Some of the local surfers spotted a Great White Shark out here yesterday." Gulp.

So intent were we on not falling into the surf that we barely noticed the red glow on the hillside and the huge plume of steam up ahead. Finally, we were going to see lava!

We got so close we could feel the intense heat and smell the acrid fumes coming off the shoreline. The lava stream pulsed and dribbled off the ledge, and huge chunks of fresh lava rock bobbled around us in the waves, cooling as it moved out to sea.

Steam engulfed the boat. It felt like we were floating in a giant bowl of matzoh ball soup.

The live lava was shocking. Watching the glowing red liquid pour off the cliff edge and immediately cool into solid rock right before our very eyes was amazing- almost too much to get our minds around. We sat mesmerized with our mouths hanging open, speechless except for the occasional "wow", which is all I could think to say.

Here a huge piece of rock is breaking off the lava stream:

Lots and lots of steam:

Lava fans: soaked, but none the worse for wear:

He risked a huge fine for getting so close, but I could totally understand this guy's urge to get up close and personal with the lava:

We spent twenty glorious minutes hovering near the lava flow. Then, as the sky began to lighten behind us, Shane turned the boat around and headed back to the launch site, thanking Pele aloud for her marvelous display.

We sailed up one swell and down another, smacking the water so hard I nearly chipped a tooth, until thirty minutes later, we stood on firm ground again.

Still feeling a little queasy from the ride, I asked our boat driver Shane if this was a particularly rough day on the seas. "Rough?!" he said. "The ocean is a bathtub today!". Then seeing my skeptical look he added, "We don't call it Lava Ocean Adventures for nothing. This ain't your grandmother's boat ride." I couldn't argue with him there.

If you're like me and you just can't get enough of this amazing geologic stuff, here's some footage of REAL LIVE LAVA from our amazing adventure on the Big Island:

Leeza writes more about our Big Island adventures in a wonderful post on her family's blog.

Fueling the Fire: the Joys of Trail Mix

2009-05-07T08:16:00.001-04:00

Admittedly we weren't completely prepared when we went hiking last week. There was that little technicality of trying to scale a muddy hill in sneakers, without a rain jacket. And our sad omission in the bug spray department.

But one thing Jen and I DID get right was picking the proper food to fuel us on our many adventures.

Trail mix is a generic term for a portable snack, chock full of nutritious and energy-dense ingredients. It packs well, and offers quick energy for those long, rugged miles in the back country or an active day at the beach.

Ever since my Girl Scout days, I've enjoyed many variations of this famous mix. But none have ever seemed quite so tasty as the version Jen whipped up for us last week. From the natural foods section of the local grocery store, she chose a wonderful concoction of dried fruits, nuts and other goodies.

And it lasted us nearly the whole week.

Here's what she threw in the mix:

- pecan halves
- whole cashews
- mixed dried fruits (Tropical Trio, by Sun Maid)
- dried raspberries
- dried cranberries
- chocolate pieces/chips
- yogurt raisins
- sundrops
- sesame peanuts
- corn nuts

As I said, we were able to find all of these items at a normal grocery store. But just think what you could add to your own mix just by browsing through your friendly neighborhood natural food store, or the bulk section of a large grocery. Yum!

A final note of caution: some ingredients I listed don't bear up so well under a hot sun, and are better left out of a beach mix. We inadvertently made "chocolate yogurt clusters" when the chocolate pieces and yogurt raisins in our trail mix melted into the other ingredients on the hot sands of Haunauma Bay.

Really messy but as it turns out, just as delicious.

Touching Clouds: the Wiliwilinui Ridge Trail

2009-05-04T08:56:00.004-04:00

Last week Jen and I explored the lush valleys and mountainside trails of the Koolau range, the eastern backbone of Oahu. Everywhere we went, the dark peaks hovered in the background mysteriously.

What would it be like to be up there?, we wondered. Up above the coastline, hidden in the clouds?

Two different groups of hikers had told us about the amazing Wiliwilinui Ridge Trail , a five mile hike straight up into the mountains. We couldn't even imagine what that last leg would be like, clambering up ropes to reach the very top. But we aimed to find out.

Our hike started behind the walls of a gated community, the housed spreading up along a ridge. At the end of an otherwise normal suburban street the buildings suddenly ended. We ambled up a jeep road in search of the trail head, following the power lines overhead.

We were surprised by a rainbow over Wailalae Nui Valley. There's Waikiki in the distance:

Looking down Wailupe Valley, toward the Aina Haina community and the sea:

Stairs helped us negotiate several spots along the trail that were too steep and too wet for normal hiking:

We should have known better than to hike within a watershed and into the clouds, without rain gear. But somehow there we were with only light fleeces to ward off the wet and cold, high up in the Koolau Mountains in a light rain.

Unsure about the route and not thrilled about getting completely soaked, we thought about turning around. Fortunately, the rain stopped just as quickly as it came and we continued our upward trek.

A little sooner than we expected, the ropes began. We knew it was only a little bit further to the top:

We truly were hidden in the clouds. In fact we watched them form all around us, as the warm windward air swept up over the mountain crest:

Stunning views of the windward coast communities. Here you can see Kailua in the distance:

The repeater station at the top:

A craggy ohia lehua tree along the ridge:

Lunch!

Wet, muddy sneakers- looking back, not the smartest footwear for the hike:

Jen playing around in a koa tree:

An amazing hike. Throw in a pair of hiking boots and a light jacket, and it's a perfect way to spend a morning in Hawaii.

Like Alice in Wonderland: Exploring Lyon Arboretum

2009-05-01T08:10:00.002-04:00

Lyon Arboretum is a fantastic wonderland of 200 densely planted acres, buried deep in the recesses of Manoa Valley. It's not far from our place- just straight back into the hills from our condo.

Still eager to identify some of the trees we saw on our hike the day before, Jen and I set out to learn about the local flora in a more formal setting.

We saw many typical local plants, treasured by the ancient Hawaiians for their utility.

Taro, one of the Hawaiians' main food crops:

Hala leaves:

Every part of the hala tree was usable. The ancient Hawaiians made hats, mats and roofs from the leaves, leis and paintbrushes from the fruit, and jugs and fence posts from the wood itself.

Papaya:

And some beautiful displays of my new Hawaiian favorite, ohia lehua:

These valleys behind Honolulu, where the Arboretum is found, are in the rainy mauka part of the island. Many times we've noticed clouds hovering here, even on days when the beaches stay warm and bright.

True, all that rain supports an amazing array of plant life, and provides fresh drinking water for the many neighborhoods and communities on Oahu.

But it's also something of a curse.

We've noticed there are remarkably few bugs in coastal Honolulu. In fact, most of the time we leave our windows open, to take advantage of the cool trade winds that sweep through Waikiki, and drive the heat out of the condo. And we don't use screens at all. There's really no need for them, because there simply are no bugs.

But back in Manoa valley, in the shady recesses of Lyon Arboretum, we entered the mosquitoes den. They were everywhere, and they were hungry.

I'm sorry to say that Burt's Bees didn't make a dent in the battle against these pesky critters. In fact, after I applied their popular all natural bug repellent, they seemed to find me even more attractive. This was definitely a job for DEET- these bugs weren't fooling around.

Not to be deterred, we pressed on. The wet mud made the small paths pretty slippery. And since we felt at some risk of getting hopelessly lost, we stuck to the main trail as we wandered through the grounds.

Soon we entered an overgrown, steamy tropical world with layer upon layer of green. The trees seemed to get bigger, and the vines more tangled. Trunks became entwined, and trees grew out of other trees, as they clawed their way toward the dim sun overhead.

We soon stopped recognizing any of the plants around us, and the identifying plaques petered out. We found ourselves stumbling in awe through the greenery, our eyes wide and jaws dropped open in amazement.

I have to admit I left Lyon Arboretum even more stumped than when I came in. What in the world ARE all these plants?

A lollipop plant:

Some kind of heliconia:

A flower from an Angel's Trumpet Tree:

A spindly red ginger:

Somewhere Above Sea Level: Hiking the Maunawili Falls Trail

2009-04-27T07:59:00.003-04:00

For most people Hawaii means sandy beaches, surfers, and swaying palm trees. And this is certainly true for us- we love the ocean here and spend a good part of each day near the water. But last week I had the chance to explore some mauka, or inland, spots around Oahu. Though underappreciated, I found the mountains just as spectacular as the coastline. And in their own way, just as Hawaiian.

My friend Jen came for a weeklong visit, and we stayed busy exploring the island together. Like oil and water, Jen doesn't mix well with water sports. So she was surprised and pleased to find so much to do in Hawaii that didn't involve ocean activities at all.

Our first day out we decided on a relatively easy trail on the windward side of Oahu. The Maunawili Falls trail follows the jagged contour of the Koolau Mountains for several miles, before dropping down to one of the many streams that flow out of the mountains.

We picked up the trail just below the Nuuanu Pali Lookout, a popular tourist stop-off with spectacular views of the windward coastline and its communities:

Views of the Koolau peaks from the trail below:

View out to sea, from our hilltop lunch spot under the ironwood trees:

We didn't actually know the name of this particular tree until we visited a botanical garden later in the week, but I fell in love with it right away. The super long "needles" make an eerie whistling sound in the wind.

Actually MOST of the mountain plants were unfamiliar to us, and we didn't bring a plant guide along on the hike. But being resourceful souls, Jen and I made up our own names for the trees we encountered, to help us remember their traits until we could get home and look up them up. So the ironwood was "long needles-whistling sound" and the plant below we called "ohia-type white flower-willowy leaves", which I think is a Rose Apple tree:

Though we hiked on a clear, dry day we could tell by all the very green things we saw along the trail that this side of the mountains must typically get doused with rain:

Time to switch to water shoes for the last leg of the hike:

We didn't have the most accurate trail map that day, but every half hour or so we'd ask another hiker where the falls was, and they were happy to throw in their best estimate. Strangely, each and every one of them said it was just another twenty minutes down the trail....

Several hours later we were thrilled to hear the falls ahead- what we figured must be a lush, isolated waterfall out here in the bush. It came as a bit of a shock then to find we'd actually stumbled onto a local watering hole instead, loaded with teens drinking beer and jumping into the pool below the falls. Looked like fun, but I was a little chagrined to see everyone else in flip-flops. Clearly they had parked nearby and walked in.

Back on the trail, we picked up the pace. More certain of our route and motivated by a craving for Dave's Ice Cream we figured it'd be oh, just another twenty minutes or so back to the car.

Surfboard Repairs Needed

2009-04-21T23:52:00.005-04:00

When I came out of the water the other day after an hour or so of surfing, I was basking in the triumph of having successfully gotten up on the board--not once, but twice!

This was a huge deal, not only because I was starting to get really frustrated with how badly I sucked at surfing, but also because I was getting frustrated at sucking so much worse than Laura, who got up three times on the prior day. It can get awfully annoying watching everything come so easily to your wife while you're out there floundering around like an idiot.

So this day was a big step for me.

But there was a problem. There was a small gash in the upper edge of our board. This board didn't belong to us--it belonged to our friend Carol, who generously entrusted it to us for our entire stay here in Hawaii. We were responsible for the proper care and feeding of it and somehow it got damaged.

I wasn't sure how it happened, but it was probably when I bumped into somebody earlier that day. It's an all-too-common occurrence at Waikiki Beach and this is one of the reasons people call Waikiki "surfing kindergarten." There are a lot of beginners here, and even those of us who can actually get up on a wave once in while have no idea how to steer or control ourselves.

I had to find someone who could fix this gash.

The first place I went to was a surfboard rental shop two blocks from our condo. I got a blank stare. The second place I went to told me, no, they don't do repairs, but they could ship it out to somebody. It would only take about five to seven days.

Dude, I could be dead in five to seven days. That's an eternity.

Then I walked into the Moku Hawaii rental shop on the corner of Koa and Uluniu Avenues and asked them if they did board rentals. No blank stare this time. The guy whipped out a pen and wrote a phone number down.

"Call this guy. We send all our board repairs to him. His name is Daniel."

Well, I was certainly encouraged by his name at least. So I called Daniel, and he came up and picked up my board, fixed the gash for $45 (which is considered a reasonable price for a relatively minor board repair), and then he brought the board back to me the same day. This guy clearly does not operate on Hawaii time.

I thanked him profusely, and in a voice that sounded like a cross between a Zen master and John Wayne, he replied, "That's what I do. I fix boards."

Daniel Stewart
Surfboard Repairs
(808) 351-3991

Smoothie Fruits

2009-04-20T08:21:00.003-04:00

What could be better on a gorgeous blue-sky day than a cool breakfast smoothie, whipped up fresh in your own kitchen? I have to admit I can't think of many things that even come close.

Smoothies are great after a workout, especially in hot weather. The fruit and juices give you all the fluids, antioxidants and electrolytes you need to replace those lost in exercise. And just by throwing a little yogurt, soy milk or protein powder to the mix, you can add strength-building qualities as well.

They also make a delicious, nutritious meal when your day starts early, or you have to work through lunch. They're neat, transportable (unlike breakfast cereal or a hot lunch) and easy to digest when you're on the go.

I've become such a smoothie addict that a blender is a must in my home- and even in my homes away from home. Indeed I've enjoyed many a smoothie in our NYC apartment, at the North Carolina beach rental, and especially here in Hawaii. The ingredients are typically easy to find, and freeze well.

All kinds of fruits make a good smoothie- to me the fun is in mixing it up. It's become a bit of a game for us to find the freshest fruits at the best prices, here in Hawaii. Which is more of a challenge than you might think: the islands import many more of their fruits and vegetables from the mainland and abroad, than they grow here at home.

So far we've had our best luck finding smoothie fixings among the many produce vendors in Chinatown. I'll talk more about our adventures in Chinatown, in a future post.

Yum!

Foster Botanical Garden: Hidden Gem

2009-04-17T07:58:00.000-04:00

We've been in Hawaii for a month, and haven't made the slightest dent in all there is to do and see here. Oahu in particlar is so rich in history and natural beauty, we decided we need to work harder at getting out and experiencing all the island has to offer, before our time here is up.

A kick in the pants is always a big help. Last week we had some wonderful Couchsurfing guests stay with us for a few days. They came back one evening at dinnertime, brimming with excitement from their day's outing. They couldn't stop talking about the trees- the very big trees they'd seen at a nearby botanical garden.

Ah, a garden I thought. What a cool way to see the city, and get in some great flower photos as well. So one afternoon I took a bus into downtown Honolulu, on a mission to check out the Foster Botanical Garden for myself.

Our Couchsurfing friends were right- there were some massive trees. Jaw-dropping trees.

But a disappointing undersupply of flowers too. Somehow I pictured there'd be a dense profusion of flowers to photograph, ala my beloved Brooklyn Botanical Garden. Sadly, even the orchid garden was mostly leaves with nary a blossom in sight. Was this the wrong time of year for flowers? Or just the wrong garden?

I shook my head a little and remembered then- I had really come for the trees. So I changed out my macro lens for a wide-angle, and turned around to admire the lovely ones all around me.

Foster Botanical Garden was once the home of a German doctor, William Hillebrand, who happened also to be a remarkable amateur botanist. Though the big old Victorian home he built was torn down long ago, the enormous trees he planted in his yard are still there.

The garden has tropical trees from all over the world, some quite rare and endangered. Certain trees are given "exceptional" status here- honored for their cultural significance to Hawaiian history or because of their rarity, and protected by County laws. The Exceptional trees in this garden make up a quarter of all such trees on Oahu.

Hillebrand was fascinated by the local trees most of all. So much so that when he returned to Germany he published an entire treatise on Hawaiian flora. So it's not that surprising that he included several important native Hawaiian trees in his garden.

The leaves of the breadfruit tree. The fruit can be cooked green or ripened, and was an essential staple in the diet of the ancient Hawaiians:

Many trees on the property hail from Central America and Southeast Asia as well. The kapoks in particular reminded me of the gorgeous trees we had just seen in Guatemala.

A massive quipo tree, and its canopy:

My favorite, the cannonball tree- safest to admire from afar:

A palm of some sort. Proof I didn't read EVERY placard in the garden:

Kariya roots:

Buddha and the baobab:

A bo tree, the type Buddha was reputed to sit under when he received enlightenment:

Hiroshima, Japan is a sister city to Honolulu. This monument was given by the people of Hiroshima to the Hawaiians, in that spirit of camaraderie:

Plumeria tree and blossoms:

Surfing: The Agony

2009-04-14T08:10:00.022-04:00

When Dan and I came to Hawaii we had high hopes and big ambitions: we were dead-set on learning to surf.

Our first taste of surfing came almost three years ago, when we visited Hawaii for a wedding. Doug, our surf instructor, was a friend of the bride's family. He graciously offered free surfing lessons to any wedding guests willing to ride out with him just after dawn the next morning. Maybe it was the warm tropical breeze, or the strong Mai-Tais from the bar, but Dan and I practically climbed over each other on our way to sign up.

The truth is I had never thought much about surfing before. Sure, I'd seen the surfing competitions on ESPN with the world-class surfers tackling monster waves. But that style of surfing surely wasn't for the likes of us.

So I really had no idea what we were getting into that bright Sunday morning after the wedding. I just stood with the others gathered on the beach, munching on donuts and listening to Doug explain how we were going to surf.

He made it look easy. And best of all, he made it easy for the rest of us. For several hours on a gorgeous day, with Waikiki beach spread out before us and Diamond Head's amazing silhouette to one side, we listened to Doug's calm instructions....and ACTUALLY SURFED.

Nothing fancy, you understand. But several times Dan and I got up on our respective boards, and rode those lovely Waikiki roller waves into shore, big smiles plastered across our faces the whole time.

We were hooked. We couldn't wait to come back to Hawaii for more. In fact, it was all I could do to keep Dan from faxing in his resignation right then and there.

Alas, we did go back to New Jersey. But for months afterward, images of the surfers we'd seen riding serenely into shore, beatific smiles alighting their faces, rose into my mind. I vowed to go back there someday, to experience that Buddha-like existence myself.

With such a promising start, we figured it couldn't take more than a couple weeks of solid practice to get good. How hard could it be?

Famous last words. Surfing has definitely not been quite the serene experience we expected, now that we've tried it on our own. For a month I've been trying to stand up on the board, without success. And it's not for lack of trying.

It didn't help that we completely forgot everything Doug taught us three years ago. We can't seem to time the waves right, and the board is pretty wobbly. I always forget where to put my feet, and when I do occasionally manage to catch a wave, I promptly fall back off again.

We're out of shape. By the time we paddle out to the break, we're so tired all we can do is bob around for a while, then turn around and paddle back to shore. We just don't have the upper body strength to catch a wave.

Sadly, our hopes and dreams have turned into utter frustration. And outright pain. I got banged up and bruised pretty badly last week, when a wave smashed the board against my thigh. My ribcage and hips and even my kneecaps are sore from lying face down on the fiberglass. I cut my foot on coral, and burned my neck in the strong sun.

Then there are all the other people out there. I hesitate to call them surfers because like us, they bobble around for hours without catching many waves. But they sure are scary when they try. I see a wave coming and I spend the rest of the time making sure I don't get plowed over from behind.

Finally, about a week ago, as I lay across my board, shaking out my sore arms and worrying that I might have dislocated a disk in my neck, I found myself losing heart. I ran out of ideas about how to make this work. Piteously I scanned the horizon, wishing with all my heart that Doug would materialize beside me right then. In his calm beach boy way, he'd tell me exactly how to get up on that board and surf.

I heard a voice to the side, and watched Doug's face melt away as if in a dream. A generous surf instructor, waiting during a lull in the waves, must have noticed my pathetic look. And he offered me some kindly advice: keep your feet together as you paddle, and slide forward a bit. See! you glide much faster- it's easier to catch the waves.

I gave him a smile and a feeble nod. And gratefully took his advice.

Yesterday, we went out for a short surf session in between bouts of rain. And I did actually get up for a long ride. On my knees.

Punchbowl Crater: Stunning Scenes from the Heights

2009-04-09T08:41:00.011-04:00

Before I returned the rental car last weekend and went back to riding The Bus, I decided to sneak in one more sight-seeing adventure while I had the chance. I was looking for a peaceful place to get away from the hubbub of the city for a few hours; as it turned out, I didn't have too far to go to find it.

It seems that the best way to get above the fray here in Hawaii is to climb the nearest volcano. If you look mauka (meaning inland, toward the mountains) while driving along the H-1 highway through Honolulu, you'll see the famous Punchbowl Crater looming over downtown. It looked to me like the perfect place to spend a quiet afternoon.

Punchbowl Crater, known as Puowaina to the ancient Hawaiians, has a long history of violence. Here, it is said, the Hawaiians performed human sacrifices and meted out capital punishment to those who broke their strict kapus (taboos). Because of its strategic position over central Honolulu, the crater rim at one time also supported a cannon battery, while the crater itself served as a rifle range.

Following WWII Punchbowl Crater became a national cemetery. It was opened to the public in 1949, as a final resting place for soldiers killed in the Pacific campaigns.

The Honolulu monument was added in 1964, to honor those soldiers and sailors missing in action or lost at sea, during the Pacific campaigns of WWII, Korea, and Vietnam wars:

It may sound awfully strange to want to spend part of a lovely Sunday in a cemetery. But those who know me well won't be a bit surprised. The truth is, I like cemeteries. They're peaceful, and offer wonderful photo ops. And there's nothing like a cemetery to highlight the best in landscape design.

Sometimes though, even I get carried away. Several years ago I visited Green-Wood Cemetery , unthinkingly, on Halloween. Scared the bejeebers out of myself- but I didn't see one ghost.

Map of the Battle of Midway:

Close up of Lady Columbia, or Lady Liberty:

Hillside memorials overlooking downtown Honolulu:

Lovely red flower on the hillside. I never did find out its name:

Chicken Pox: 2, Dan: 0

2009-04-07T03:36:00.002-04:00

It's been more than six weeks, including two false starts, and only now am I finally starting to get my strength back since contracting adult-onset chicken pox back in February.

The weirdest thing about this virus is how it gives you the illusion of recovering your energy one day, and then it pitilessly crushes that illusion the next day. An example from two weeks ago: After two consecutive days of successfully running one mile, I was just starting to think I'm getting enough strength back to start running a little bit. I planned a three mile run for that Monday morning.

Those of you who know me know that normally three miles is nothing for me. But I'd been pretty sick, so the fact that I managed it with a couple of walking breaks was fine with me. A decent show.

Sure enough, as soon as I got back home, I started to feel so badly that I ended up spending the rest of the day in bed.

This virus is sneaky; it let me do the run and even get a little bit of confidence before it broke me.

Then, last week, an even worse head-fake: I had been running 2-3 miles a day for four or five days in a row, and was really getting excited about my improvement, so I thought I'd push things a little more and try a longer run of six miles.

And after the run was over, I felt great. I was so psyched I even taunted the chicken pox virus on Facebook.

What a fool.

Two days later, I came down with the flu and bronchitis and I was on my back again, this time for four days.

I've now recovered from that latest setback and I'm back to square one fitness-wise. So today, I'm going to dare to do a 1 mile run.

#%&*$"#%* pox.

Ulupo Heiau: An Ancient Temple Hidden In Suburbia

2009-04-05T08:14:00.020-04:00

Last weekend, a simple errand took us across the Koolau mountains to the Windward side of Oahu- and turned into something of a history lesson.

A friend from New York- who grew up on Oahu- had graciously offered us the use of her surfboard for the duration of our stay in Hawaii. Thrilled at the prospect of having our very own board in the house, we rented a car and drove over to pick it up early Sunday morning at her dad's house in Kaneohe.

Since we had the car for the day, and were in the neighborhood, I thought it would be fun to check out Ulupo Heiau (oo-LOO-poh hay-EE-ow), an ancient Hawaiian temple I had read about in my trusty Oahu guidebook.

So with the board in the back, we set out in search of the reknowned local site.

Though highlighted in the book, it was not so easy to find in real life. Hawaiians tend to be low-key and understated. And true to form, this ancient site was inconspicuously tucked away in a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of Kailua.

We finally found the heiau in a small park, behind the YMCA.

Ulupo Heiau is a platform of rocks about thirty feet high and 150 feet across. Legend has it that the Menehune, a small race of Leprechaun-like people, carried the stones along a bucket brigade several miles long, completing the temple in one night.

No one knows for sure why the heiau was built. Some scholars think it was used by ancient priests for human sacrifices; others believe it had a more mundane function, as a simple temple built for the commoners who farmed the region.

This is a sacred place for native Hawaiians, even today. It is peaceful and subdued, a good place to rest and contemplate. And if you look hard enough, you may even catch a glimpse of a Menehune, hard at work among the stones.

Check out Ray Riegert's terrific Hidden Oahu, full of wonderful tips for exploring Oahu beyond the typical tourist traps.

Koko Crater: Hiking Our Friendly Neighborhood Volcano

2009-04-02T08:50:00.026-04:00

What's it like to climb your local neighborhood volcano? One afternoon in mid-March, while Dan was still resting from his awful battle with the pox, I decided to find out for myself.

Koko Crater is an extinct volcano in the Hawaii Kai neighborhood of southeastern Oahu. We saw it everywhere we went that first week in Hawaii, looming in the background at our favorite coastal lookouts and rising up before us at each bend in the road.

It took some noodling for me to find the unassuming trailhead, behind a baseball field in a neighborhood park. The trail is made of railroad ties, the remains of an old tram track used by the military to haul supplies up to their hilltop positions during wartime. Now crumbling, these splintered railroad ties act like handy stairs, taking you all the way up to the crater rim.

I started up the trail, confident I was in decent winter shape for the climb. But ten minutes into the hike, I started to huff and puff. The huffing and puffing soon gave way to gasping for air. I had to stop to catch my breath.

One thing I found tricky was getting a good rhythm going up the steps. It was like climbing a staircase where the steps are spaced just a little too far apart to take them in stride, but too close together to take a full step in between. So I found myself side-stepping up the mountain, stopping now and then to take pictures and to breathe.

Soon I put the camera away, and just concentrated on taking one slow step at a time. It was here, almost halfway up Koko Crater, that I began to regret all the mussels and wine we'd enjoyed so much in New Zealand in January.

I felt like a wimp- until I noticed that my fellow hikers were all struggling too. Even the big, husky guys behind me stopped making jokes and got very quiet, as they worked their way up the trail.

Suddenly we came to an abrupt stop. Just ahead, the trail turned into a railroad trestle- with BIG spaces between the ties. I was red-faced, breathing hard, feeling a little thirsty, and was not at all sure I wanted to mince across a 30 feet ravine on a dilapidated railbed.

But there was no getting around it. So one by one we stepped gingerly, if reluctantly, across.

Now the trail got REALLY steep. I stopped turning around, afraid I'd upset my balance and risk falling backward off the trail.

Then out of the blue, a Jack Russell terrier came bounding toward me from somewhere up above. Its pony-tailed mistress, a woman in midlife wearing a designer workout ensemble, came close behind. She looked like she had wandered off a tennis court, but here she was hiking down the mountain in her running shoes. Clearly she had already made it to the top.

We stopped to chat a few minutes. It turns out she climbs the crater several times a week- to WALK HER DOG. With parting instructions to me about where to get the best views at the top, she cheerily waved and continued on her merry way.

This was all the extra mojo I needed to keep going.

Twelve hundred feet upward, and countless steps later, I was at the top. The views were amazing!

A view of Koko Head and the Hawaii Kai neighborhood, from the top of Koko Crater:

Looking down into Koko Crater, and along the southeastern coastline. You can see Sandy Beach in the middle of the photo, and Makapuu Point in the distance:

White flower on Koko Crater rim:

After taking some time to enjoy the scenery and get my heart rate under control, I started the hike down. My quads burned, but I was all smiles.

You can also check out these videos of an extreme athlete running up Koko Crater, and two women hiking at a normal pace.

Whale Watching from Makapuu Point

2009-03-30T08:41:00.011-04:00

It's whale season here in Hawaii. From December to April thousands of humpback whales can be seen frolicking in the warm coastal waters around the Hawaiian Islands. After several months of having babies and cavorting together, they start the long swim back to their feeding grounds in Alaska each spring.

If you plan to visit Hawaii during the winter months, one thing you won't want to miss is the chance to see these beautiful animals in action. You can get up close and personal with them on a whale watching tour available on all of the main islands. Or you can sit back and relax at one of the many overlooks found along the Hawaiian coastline, and just watch them from shore.

I've already mentioned the breathtaking scenery of Oahu's southeastern coast. As it turns out this area is also quite popular for whale watching.

Makapuu Point is a popular walk and whale watching spot along highway 72, just a half hour from Waikiki. The trail climbs high above the Pacific Ocean and on a clear day you can see all the way to Molokai, the next Hawaiian island in the chain. Several lookout points along the way give fantastic views of the water below, so you can easily see the whales swimming along the shoreline here.

The path at Makapuu is entirely paved: you can "hike" it in flip-flops while pushing a stroller. Just remember to bring a hat and lots of water, since there is no shelter from the full force of the sun overhead.

The easiest way to spot whales is by watching the surface of the ocean for sudden poofs of misty air, as they exhale after a long dive. Occasionally you may also see them slapping their tails, pectoral fins, and even their heads against the water's surface, to announce their arrival from the depths. Most spectacular of all is the breach: the whale springs straight up out of the water, does a half-turn in the air and flops back down with a huge splash.

The day I visited Makapuu, I was lucky to see about a dozen whales in three or four different groups, cruising by the point in both directions. Funny, even they looked small in that great expanse of ocean.

Note the little line of puffy clouds way out in the distance, hovering over the island of Molokai:

A closer view of Molokai, with a pod of humpback whales in the foreground:

Makapuu Lighthouse:

Looking up the Windward Coast from Makapuu Point. To the right are Rabbit and Turtle Islands, both bird sanctuaries:

Coastline Drive: Lovely Views Just Past Our Doorstep

2009-03-26T08:54:00.009-04:00

You don't have to travel very far outside Honolulu to experience Hawaii's famous natural scenery. The southeast coast of Oahu is one of my favorites- it offers stunning coastline views, wonderful beaches and surf spots, and world-famous snorkeling at Haunauma Bay. And it's all within an easy half-hour drive from Waikiki.

We found there's nothing quite like driving, to give you a sense of the geography and layout of Oahu itself. And it's tough to get lost since there's really only one main road that follows the coast. Route 72 hugs the water, connecting one small town and bedroom community to the next as you thread your way along the coast.

And though Dan wasn't back to his usual energetic self yet, I was able to get him out for some fresh air those first few days in Hawaii.

Views from seaside lookout below Koko Crater:

Koko Crater from the road:

Checking out the surf scene at Sandy Beach:

View up the Windward Coast with Koolau Mountains on the left, and Makapuu Beach down below:

No trip to the Windward Coast would be complete without a stop at Dave's Hawaiian Ice Cream in Waimanalo. Besides the all-American classics like chocolate and cookie dough, they make exotic flavors here too- azuki bean and taro to name a few. I just had to try the bright purple ube (purple yam), alongside a scoop of Dave's famous coconut macadamia:

Delicious!

Moonbeams and Rainbows

2009-03-23T06:27:00.001-04:00

The first thing you notice when you step outside the terminal at Honolulu International Airport is the warm, light breeze.

The trade winds are a comfortable constant in the islands- the last necessary ingredient after sun and heat, to make the weather here absolutely perfect. So perfect that many hotels and restaurants, especially the fancy ones, are open-air. Which means you can walk through the lobbies and feel the ocean breezes, sit under the stars as you eat your mahi-mahi...

Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself. This is no time for umbrella drinks- we haven't even gotten out of the airport yet.

Whether or not you've arranged for the popular lei greeting when you disembark the airplane, you can easily feel the aloha spirit wafting toward you from the airport staff. They're all smiles, and full of friendly advice and directions.

When we looked around, we noticed that even our fellow travelers seemed calm and relaxed, even chatty. And why not? More than likely they too had just come from some dark, dank realm- and miraculously landed in this tropical paradise along with us.

Though he was still weary from his bout with the chicken pox and the ten-hour flight, even Dan had to smile. Clouds scuttled across the night sky as we waited outside the terminal, palm trees rustled in the breeze, flowers bobbed and swayed among the bushes. The moon was full.

We were so fortunate to be staying with a local friend for the week, until we could find an apartment to rent. Tammy and her family took us under their wings and helped us get our bearings- a perfect start to our Hawaii sabbatical. They were such wonderful company, and the kids' bubbly natures cheered Dan up immeasurably.

Plus, they're both doctors- so Dan's blotchy face didn't faze them one bit.

That first night in Hawaii, after everyone had gone to bed, I lay awake listening to the hard rain on the roof, and a strong wind blowing through the trees.

Warm light filtered in through the blinds early the next morning. The storm had passed. And when I opened the front door that first day in Hawaii, I was greeted head-on by a glorious rainbow.

I admit, I looked around- half expecting a unicorn to come skipping by.

Thank Goodness It's Not Malaria

2009-03-20T09:14:00.001-04:00

It felt great to be home after six weeks on the road. We read the mail, watered the plants (or in some cases threw them out- sadly, not all my green friends made it through the bitter January cold), and unpacked our bags.

I took a little trip upstate, to catch up with family and friends. Meanwhile back at the ranch, Dan spent his time resting, writing, and figuring out the mail-forwarding in preparation for our extended trip to Hawaii the next week.

Somehow we didn't seem the worse for wear with all this traveling. Sure our Guatemala trip was a bit hectic, especially falling so closely on the heels of our month in New Zealand. But we weren't that worried: we knew we'd have plenty of time to relax once we got to Hawaii.

So when I checked in with Dan Saturday night, I was surprised to hear him say he might have the flu: he felt sweaty and mildly feverish and achy. But not to worry, he still had his appetite, and was heading to bed.

By the time I got home Sunday, Dan was miserable. He had a terrible time sleeping the night before, kept breaking out in sweats and shivers, and felt pretty crappy.

Immediately my medical wheels started turning. What could this be? Was it the flu? Or maybe he picked up some kind of parasite in Guatemala.

Or....oh no! Could it be malaria?? After all, Dan had stopped taking the "poison" pills I insisted we bring to the "tropics" once we discovered how temperate Xela really was. Still I did remember one or two mosquitoes buzzing around our heads at the Mayan ruins.....

I tried to picture what life would be like with a case of chronic malaria in the family: random, incapacitating bouts of sweaty, delirious misery. Forever. Yikes.

But it was late at night and no amount of thinking was going to help us understand this better- nor would it cure malaria, if that's what Dan had. So we each popped an aspirin, and went to bed.

The next morning Dan didn't feel any better. And now he had several spots on his forehead and chest. These weren't your ordinary pimples, though- they looked more like little blisters. I didn't remember anything about spots in a case of malaria.

But if it wasn't malaria, what kind of strange disease could it be? So we did what any normal person under 70 would do when faced with a serious health crisis: we Googled Dan's symptoms.

Thank goodness for the internet. After fifteen minutes I was positive Dan had either hand, foot and mouth disease, some kind of herpes infection, or a disease common to arid desert regions, called Valley Fever.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was chicken pox. Still confused, and in any case unable to treat this on our own, I called our primary care physician. Thankfully they were able to get us in right away.

Here's the conversation we had with the doctor that fateful morning, eight days after returning from Guatemala:

"It is most likely chicken pox- since you say you never had it. But it could be another kind of pox too."

"What do you mean? What other poxes are there?"

"Well, any animal can harbor a pox virus. There's cow pox, monkey pox....."

Really, I thought. Monkey pox. And I looked over to see Dan turn several lighter shades of pale.

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In turned out to be garden variety adult-onset chicken pox. By the time we knew what hit him it was too late for the antiviral meds, so he fought that bug the old-fashioned way: lying in bed shivering with sweat, loading up on pain medication, and scratching his way back to health. In Dan's own words, "It sucked."

Four weeks later, Dan is still getting his strength back. So a final word to the wise: if you've never had chicken pox, or aren't really sure if you have, do not pass go- I highly recommend you GET VACCINATED. I wouldn't wish this damn bug on my worst enemy.

Pina Con Sal: Not To Be Missed?

2009-03-18T07:55:00.013-04:00

"Pina con sal?" asked the young woman manning the roadside fruit stand. While the Spanish words sounded familiar, the taste sensation she was proposing was a little, well, foreign to us.

It's tough to beat the flavor of pineapple fresh from the fields. So when our driver, Eli, pulled over to see how much the fruit lady was charging, none of us complained. We rolled down our windows, eager to trade a few quetzales for a plastic baggie dripping with pineapple spears in their own juice.

But when she offered to throw on a dash of salt, we were slightly confused. Did we hear her correctly, pineapple with salt?

We shrugged. If this is how they do it in Guatemala, then who were we to judge? With adventurous hearts, we nodded OK.

"Eww. This is the most disgusting thing I've ever had," said Dan with a painful grimace. He looked exactly like he'd just been poisoned- and passed the rest of his pineapple spear to me.

"Mmmm....delicious!" I said, my eyes wide with delight. "Sweet and salty, my new favorite."

For once I was happy we couldn't agree.