ehawk flew the coop

Farewell ehawk flew the coop, Hello HawkScoop!

2009-10-24T15:13:00.000-07:00

Dear devoted ehawk followers, I know you will be disappointed, nay devastated to read that I am temporarily suspending posts for 'ehawk flew the coop' until I travel abroad again. As you know, 'ehawk flew the coop' was about escape to a foreign country (Peru) and posting about Chicago and life here felt, well, wrong.

But I loved the name and we had grown together so I felt attached to 'ehawk flew the coop.' Even so, I felt 'caged' in by it. I couldn't identify my mission within the confines of the title's connotation.

So, hmm, a new name, and a new mission. What is it I want to contribute to this already saturated blogosphere? What differentiates my content and how will my name convey that simply?

Well, I noticed a trend in my writing (whether I was traveling or not). I share what I see/participate in that makes me stop and think or laugh. Hopefully my posts will have the same effect on you.

I'll be dishing out my perspective at HawkScoop - a distinct grasp of things. Visit HawkScoop.com.

eHawk

First Slice: Nurture Your Soul While Nourishing Your Body

2009-10-03T12:11:00.000-07:00

What does it mean to give the first slice of the pie to those who are used to living on crusts?

Dignity. Hope. Nourishment.

Fight hunger with your fork through First Slice, a self-sustaining not-for-profit that is working towards long-term solutions for the problems of poverty and homelessness. First Slice's objectives are to provide high-quality meals to Chicago's hungry, foster relationships between those living in poverty with more fortunate individuals, and connect the needy with community-based organizations.

Three-star chef and former Lettuce Entertain You artisan Mary Ellen Diaz created First Slice. Here is her creative four-pronged approach to combat hunger in Chicago:

Feed Your Community- First Slice operates outreach programs through local organizations and provides meals at community centers and via the Soul Food Pantry Bus, a new mobile meals program. Volunteer to serve meals or prepare food by contacting First Slice at: info@firstslice.org

Pie Cafe: The First Slice Pie Cafe, operating out of Lillstreet Arts Center in Ravenswood, serves sumptuous pies, sandwiches, soups, and salads. Profits are donated directly to the First Slice organization, strengthening the non-profit's vision of self-sustainability.

Socially Conscious Catering: The Pie Cafe offers professional catering, delivering delectable dishes and decadent sweets (with a side of good deed!) to your next office party or private event.

To-Your-Table Subscriber Program: 3 gourmet meals with 3 courses for 3 people each week. No-fuss, no-prep, chef-prepared meals to share at home. Profits go to feeding the homeless and hungry the same well-balanced, nourishing food (think: Italian Braised Beef, Goat Cheese Stuffed Peppers, Coconut Pie) that subscribers receive. One family subscription feeds 20 hungry people a month.

Have any thoughts on the matter? Know of other organizations like this one? Please share by leaving a comment!

Granta chooses Algren's City on the Make

2009-09-30T10:18:00.000-07:00

Granta, the magazine of new writing, has devoted its latest issue to Chicago. Only a few times since the magazine reemerged in 1979 has it chosen a location to be its muse, the list so far includes Russia, Africa, and India. Now, Granta has chosen not a continent (really? you whittled down all of Africa into one issue?) nor a country, but a city, our city, the city on the lake, as its inspiration.

The collection includes poetry, excerpts from novels, essays, photography and short stories. The connection each contribution has to Chicago varies. Some are simply authored by an individual who was born here or chose to live here at some point in their life. Others are about, or take place in Chicago, like Alex Kotlowitz's short story Khalid. Contributions like these are brimming with Chicago-specific details, like street and store names. These elements help to conjure up images of the city's neighborhoods and busy intersections. As the reader, you begin to share Chicago with the characters, which gives you the feeling that you might pass them by on the street one day, if you haven't already.

Granta has promoted its all-Chicago issue around the city this September with readings by contributors at local libraries, bookshops and other venues. An event at Rainbow Club in Wicker Park caught my eye, and not only because it was free and near my house. In order to celebrate one of the literary gems in the issue, a never-before-published short story by famed Chicago author Nelson Algren, his friend and professional photographer Art Shay narrated a slide show of photos he took with Algren over the course of their friendship.

Nelson Algren's best known novels are The Man With the Golden Arm (a National Book Award winner), Chicago, City on the Make, and A Walk on the Wild Side but Algren is just as famous for his bohemian lifestyle and the social circles he traveled in. Although Algren passed away in 1981, Shay managed to bring him back to life through firsthand accounts of their time spent together roaming Chicago streets encountering addicts, hookers, bums, cops, hustlers, and other street characters.

The best tales were the ones that shed light on recognizable photos, like the anecdote that came along with this famous shot of Simone de Beauvoir's backside. First, Shay showed us Algren's tiny, grubby apartment, pictures of Algren shaving over the kitchen sink, amidst dirty frying pans and unwashed dishes. These shots made it easier to believe the following piece of information, that the flat had no proper bathroom. Ultimately this posed a problem for Algren's lady friends, and Shay was assigned the task of finding a bathtub for Beauvoir to use when she was in town visiting Algren. On one of these occasions, Shay was privy to Simone's privates and shot this picture.

What's odd, is that the event made me wistful and nostalgic for something I wasn't a part of then: 1940's Chicago and for something I'm not a part of now: a solid literary community. I wondered who is this century's Nelson Algren? Am I as connected to my city and its people as Algren was? Who will we be celebrating 50 years from now as a great Chicago author? And how do I meet that person and become their friend? I suppose I could take a hint from Art Shay, just knock on the door and introduce myself, like he did with Algren. And the rest, as they would say, would be history.

For additional infrmation on Granta, the magazine for new writing, visit granta.com.

21 million adults in America cannot read this sentence!

2009-09-24T13:25:00.000-07:00

You might not consider yourself a "reader" if you don't get around to the latest paperbacks, but pay attention to your environment and your daily routines and you'll see that reading is something you do all day long, whether you're conscious of it or not. Sure you peruse newspapers, magazines, e-mail, websites, and (don't be embarrassed) the TV guide channel. But let's not forget the maps, transit schedules, street signs, advertisements, menus, product labels, and bills that you come across on a daily basis. You didn't think of these as reading material, did you? You're realizing you read more than you thought, right?

So, try and imagine what it would be like, how isolating and difficult your life might be, if you had to live outside of the world of words. Blind people count steps to get around, the hard-of-hearing read lips, but what about those that are handicapped by illiteracy? How can they compensate for the inability to read and write? What life choices are they forced to make as a result? What affects does this have on their children and community?

Consider this:

37% of adults in Chicago cannot read a story to a child
53% of adults in Chicago have low or limited literacy skills
61% of low income families have no children's books at home

How did things get this way? That's an easy question to ask, but a difficult one to answer. And I'm not sure I'm qualified to do it.

How can you help? I can field this one.

First, start with the children and young adults around you. Engage them in book talks by asking about what they like to read. Take them to the library to choose books. Read WITH them. Read TO them. Read AROUND them. Show them how exciting a good book can be!

Get involved with your community by volunteering at a school or through a non-profit. I found an amazing group in Chicago called Open Books. Open Books offers 4 unique volunteer opportunities to work with children, teens and adults on reading and writing skills through buddy reading, workshops, field trips, and virtual mentoring. In addition, they have been collecting used books since their inception in 2006 and have an inventory of over 100,000 books. They will use these to stock their nonprofit bookstore and community center (opening Fall 2009) which will help support the program and their mission of literacy.

As a former elementary teacher (who never thought she would miss those quirky children) I decided to be a reading buddy. I read with 2 children for one hour a week at a school in my neighborhood. Jayla and Brittney are 1st graders who are incredibly excited to have me come and spend quality time with them in their school library. We eagerly peruse the shelves before we sit down and share the reading experience together. At this young age, they are already enthusiastic about books. All I have to do is encourage their interest and eagerness, a simple, enjoyable task that will hopefully result in a lifelong reader and learner.

I hope to inspire you to become involved in literacy. It could be a small contribution, giving your time as a buddy or donating a few books from your shelves, but it can have a life-altering impact on these children that are our future. For more information on how to support Open Books and their mission, click here. If you don't live in the Chicagoland area, but want to be a literacy volunteer or make a donation, check out ProLiteracy, a website where you can find a program near you. And OPEN SOME BOOKS!

Passion Pit at Logan Square Auditorium + radio marketing bullshit

2009-09-21T22:11:00.000-07:00

You've been invited...

what:         Passion Pit perform live

where:       Logan Square Auditorium

when:        Wednesday, September 30 2009 8:00 p.m.

cost:         FREE*

* 1) you can only get tickets by entering a raffle** through XRT (the radio station)
   2) you can only enter the raffle by "spending" XRT VIP points.
   3) You can only get VIP points by:
         a) entering keywords heard on air
   b) referring friends to become members of XRT's VIP program
         c) taking XRT surveys

**This is a pain in the ass. Why can't I just pay $20 to see the show and not have to do all this bullshit work (ie. sign up for spam, subject a friend to the same, fill out forms on music preferences) Sure, XRT is great, and I'd like to help them out, but I might not even GET a ticket after all. Is there a cold-hard-cash-purchase option or do they only want to pack the show with suckers?***

***I'm a sucker, I signed up and entered the raffle twice. Wish me luck!

Street Art: A gallery at your doorstep

2009-09-20T14:40:00.000-07:00

My girl Lauren has given me the gift of vision. From time to time, while we cruise around, she'll point out new additions, in the form of street art, to our local urban landscape. But not the typical, obvious street art like graffiti, commissioned murals, or even those sketched-upon US Post Office Priority Mail stickers that have been stuck to telephone poles.

This is modern art on your sidewalk instead of at the MoMA. There are three-dimensional collages composed of wooden blocks, dryer lint, wires, and anything else disposable (or available?) that can be recycled into art. Drawings/sketches/paintings, on what appear to be butcher paper, are cut and pasted (the old-fashioned way) onto boarded-up buildings or under an overpass.

While some of this art is flamboyant and demands your attention, there is a fair share that requires more than just a cursory glance to notice. By letting me in on the secret, she helped create an awareness in me of these more subtle, alternative forms of artistic expression that exist in public space. She has shown me how to see my neighborhood with new eyes.

Let me show you some examples. These were all up on Milwaukee Avenue between Western and Damen.

A wooden collage boarded up among bar advertisements. Does the collage have meaning independent of its location? Or is its showcase in public space the art?

This paint, wood and fiber creation is protected under plastic.

On this fence are two works by, I suppose, separate artists. I wonder if they know each other. Or if this location is, for some reason, significant.

Pasted onto a metal door. Might be the artist Melt.

*Thank you to the artists who positively contribute to our communal space.*

knitta PLEASE: The Renegade Craft Fair - Chicago 2009

2009-09-13T19:30:00.000-07:00

What you won't see:

sweatshirts embellished with puffy paint
wreaths or anything with fake flowers, unless they're crocheted
country kitsch (think American flag coat racks)
handmade advent calendars

What you will see:

small batch silk-screened clothing
eco-friendly paper goods
handmade garments
one-of-a-kind jewelry
recycled and re-purposed vintage items

The Renegade Craft Fair is not your mother's craft fair. I know that for sure, because I picked up this awesome postcard from the first table I stopped at and my mom (a very intelligent woman) did not get why it was so funny. And it simply could not be explained to her. I tried. Twice. First with the PG-13 version and then resorting to Rated R, thinking that might ring a bell. She. Didn't. Get. It.

Nevertheless, we did enjoy browsing through the clothes and accessories. We marveled at how so many artists were re-purposing hard cover books (the vintage, almost fabric kind) into journals and purses. By the time we saw book cover belt buckles, I was baffled. My mom must have known what I was thinking by the look on my face. "Didn't you get the memo?" she mockingly asked as she nudged me on the arm. No, I didn't. I thought, great, now I have to keep my eye out for old, colorful children's books at thrift stores too. What else have I missed since I began my relationship with knitting? I used to spread myself around a little more, with beading, jewelry, and sewing projects on the side. And now I'm out of the loop (no pun intended). Monogomy is overrated.

As a teacher, I should be offended that a book is destroyed in the making of this craft. As a crafter, I'm disappointed I didn't come up with it first.

What would a hipster craft fair be without limited-edition concert posters?

If you missed the fair in Chicago, you can always check out Renegade Handmade, the retail store that grew out of the Renegade Craft Fair concept. The boutique is a permanent venue for people to sell and shop handmade goods. Visit online at Renegade Handmade or drop by the store at 1924 W. Division St. in Chicago, you know you want to touch everything anyway.

Not from Chicago? There are also fairs in Brooklyn, LA, and San Francisco (not to mention Holiday sales in December in both Chicago and SF!). Check out Renegade Craft for details.

Chicago's next great park: The Bloomingdale Trail

2009-09-11T12:38:00.000-07:00

Around Chicago abandoned warehouses are refurbished into eclectic lofts, old factories evolve into retail space, and parking lots become the foundation for office buildings. However, not all development is commercial or residential. There are urban transformations which benefit the whole community by modifying underutilized land into something beautiful and useful for everyone. One project with this intention is the The Bloomingdale Trail. It is a perfect example of how we can improve our city by repurposing neglected urban terrain into public greenspace.

How could you pass under this and not wonder what's up there?

Living in Bucktown, most of my north/south commuting is done on Damen Avenue. Each time I passed under the Bloomingdale Avenue bridge I wondered when the last time a train had gone down those tracks. From the street, the tracks above looked overgrown with weeds and grass. Realizing it was no longer in use, I daydreamed about climbing up there to get a view of Churchill Park, along which the tracks run.

The trail passes through multiple parks.

One morning, while waiting on an order at The Goddess and Grocer, I rifled through the ubiquitous postcards, advertisements and half-read newspapers that occupied the shelf beneath the sugars and creamers on the condiment station. One of the tri-folds caught my eye. Look up! it said. The Bloomingdale Trail is coming! It was serendipity; The brochure was referring to my bridge!

Friends of the Bloomingdale Trail (FBT) is a non-profit grassroots organization campaigning to convert a part of the unused Bloomingdale railroad into an elevated park and trail spanning 30 bridges over 3 miles. The project proposes extending existing parks and building new ones which would serve as community access points to the trail. Ultimately, the elevated trail will link schools, parks, and business corridors from Humboldt Park and Logan Square through Wicker Park and Bucktown to the Chicago River.

FBT has been working with the City of Chicago, Rails-to-Trails Conservancy, and the Trust for Public Land to achieve their goal. Visit bloomingdaletrail.org to learn more about the history of the trail, the propsed design or how to support the organization.

limp broccoli, packaged lettuce and green tomatoes (but not the good kind)

2009-09-02T11:38:00.000-07:00

I know you've been there and I know what you were thinking as you pushed your cart passed the mist-sprayed displays. Why are these zucchini soft? This selection of cucumbers is pathetic. Are these green tomatoes supposed to be this color?

If your grocery store is anything like the ones near me in Chicago, the produce section is sorely lacking fresh, delicious, locally grown fruits and vegetables. Not only do the foods at these establishments look limp and unappealing, but they're conventionally grown to boot.

Even if you don't care about pesticides, soil erosion and agribusiness (which you should), you ought to consider the nutrient content of what you're eating. There is mounting evidence that organically grown fruits, vegetables, and grains offer more of some nutrients, like Vitamin C and phosphorous, than the same foods conventionally grown.

So, on a recommendation from my friend Margaret, I started an account with Fresh Picks. Irv & Shelly's Fresh Picks provides year-round locally grown and organic groceries for the Chicagoland area and even delivers to a group of neighborhoods in the city. For a $5 fee, my orders arrive chilled in an ice-packed, styrofoam cooler, nestled inside a protective, plastic crate. Right now I get a single vegetable box weekly for $18. The beautiful produce is crisp, clean, and mouthwatering.

On delivery days, I'm so excited that I get cooking right away. Finding new, creative ways to make use of all the produce in each shipment is a fun challenge. Email updates detailing the week's selection help me plan meals. And, knowing that the next delivery is imminent (unless I suspend my standing order) also encourages me to use all the foods in a timely manner.

Each week there seems to be an oddball item that I would never have picked up in the grocery store, like pickling cucumbers or anise. These items are not a bother, in fact, they're usually the most exciting part of the delivery! Exposure to new foods develops my culinary knowledge and expands my cooking repertoire. Receiving the same items for a few consecutive weeks, like eggplant, has the same effect because I'm compelled to explore new ways to prepare it. There's only so much baba ghanouj one household can eat...

Last Wednesday, this was what I received:

tomatoes, bell peppers, green beans, chinese eggplant, onions, garlic, corn, broccoli, and lettuce

I started out ordering a fruit box mini which was $25. The amount of fruit that came was unbelievable! I would get: bags of peaches, nectarines, plums, and apples; boxes of blueberries and rasberries; and a cantaloupe. Everything was juicy and flavorful, but I couldn't make use of all of it quickly enough. After making leftover-fruit-jam twice, I decided to suspend the fruit delivery. Maybe they'll come out with an even more mini fruit box...

Proper storage can prolong the life of your produce but it's hard to keep track of what to do. What goes in the fridge? What stays out at room temperature? What gets wrapped up or stored standing in water? Check out Real Simple's article Protect Your Produce for details and keep these tips in mind:

Don't wash fruits and vegetables before you store them. The dampness can cause the food to rot quickly and/or get moldy.
Store vegetables untrimmed, except for root vegetables like carrots. Trim off all but 2 inches of the leaves, so they don't steal moisture from the roots
Let fruits ripen at room temperature (out of direct sunlight) and then put them in the refrigerator

What's happening at Pulaski School?

2009-08-26T09:16:00.000-07:00

Kamelia, an artist friend of mine, works with the Chicago non-profit Green Star Movement. The group's mission is to collaborate with schools and community centers to beautify their buildings with murals that celebrate the diversity of urban life. She is a project leader and, as a result, is aware of current events within the local branches of the Chicago Public School system.

Last night, at the outdoor viewing of Tootsie in Grant park, Kamelia asked me to join her in protest of the campaign to change over Bucktown's Pulaski Academy from an arts-focused curriculum to an IB (International Baccalaureate) one.

The multiple factions of concerned parents and teachers have different objectives: maintain the school as is, which promotes arts-based and bilingual education to its students, mostly low-income hispanics that live outside the community; restructure the school's curriculum and staff under the rigorous IB guidelines, satisfying the appeals of the local parents and (purposefully?) altering the socio-economic and cultural makeup of the school; and protect positions at the school that are in danger of being phased out by the new program.

The controversial issue was covered by the newspaper in this Chicago Tribune article.

I will be meeting the marchers at the Chicago Board of Education today to find out more.

Regresé

2009-08-20T13:49:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm back. I've been back. And I've been busy, so I should have been sharing. I vow to change my ways. From here on, I'm posting more about my life here in Chicago: friends, new restaurants, live shows, delicious recipes and thoughts on life!

Pisco y las Islas Ballestas: Not worth spending a night in Pisco to go to, unless you like birds

2009-07-31T12:28:00.000-07:00

This is the port where we got the boat for the tour.

I was pretty disappointed in Las Islas Ballestas. I only have a few photos because my camera battery died. (After my old camera was stolen, I vacillated on getting a new one, and ultimately decided to go ahead and get it. The new one took AA batteries. I didn't even know cameras still did that!) Here is my tripadvisor review:

While making my way up the Panamericana, I stopped in Pisco for the night, in order to go to the Islas Ballestas. (Unfortunately, Pisco suffered major damage from the 2007 earthquake and is still "transitioning," so there wasn't much happenin' there.) I left early the next morning for the Islas tour. It's a choppy, 30 minute boat ride out to the islands where, for years, the local birds have been shitting. When it piles up, men collect it, because it is a good fertilizer. It's known as guano and its exportation can be lucrative.

This is what you see: rock islands, colored white by the guano; a LOT of the guano-producing birds, some sea lions, and a few penguins. (Okay, the penguins were cool.)

If you're traveling between Arequipa and Lima, it might not be worth the stop.

I did not actually take this picture. But I wanted to show you the guano.

Ica, Huacachina, y vino

2009-07-31T11:30:00.000-07:00

After Nazca, I moved on to Ica, where there are two main things to do: go to the nearby town of Huacachina and take bodega tours.

Huacachina is popular because it has the only natural desert oasis in the Americas. In the middle of the dunes, there is a natural lagoon (supposedly it has healing properties, but then again, that claim is made for many places in South America). The lagoon's water level has been receding in recent years because locals are pumping out ground water, so what you see isn't as magnificent as it once was. But still, it's pretty amazing. How come the dunes don't slurp up the water?

The activities here are sandboarding and riding in a dune buggy. I did neither because I had planned on going to the bodegas afterwards, and 1: didn't think about all the sand I would have been carrying with me and 2: those sandboards were the ricketiest things I've ever seen. And while falling and hurting yourself is really funny when with friends, it's not quite so amusing when you're on your own and have to travel with all of your shit, twisted ankles and all. Oh, there's a third reason: unlike snowboarding, where, when you're done with a run, you take a chairlift back to the top, here you have to unstrap and climb up with your board in the trillion degree sand. So, who's up for a wine tour?!

Shabby boards

After Huacahina I hired a local taxi driver to 'chofer' me around to two bodegas: Hacienda Tacama Bodega and Bodega El Catador, before bringing me back to Ica to catch my bus to Pisco.

I wouldn't know the difference bewteen these wines, except that liz introduced me to Tacama while in Arequipa. It's one of the oldest and best bodegas in Peru. Unfortunately, there was a horrendous earthquake near Ica in 2007 which had done considerable damage to Ica and it's surrounding area. It's richter number is still disputed: it varies from 7.8 to 8.1, and the whole thing was/is a political scandal (surprise, surprise) because money donated to the area from international organizations hasn't been seen by locals, who are still struggling to re-build. Unbeknownst to me and my driver (which I am suspicious of, I think he knew, but wanted the fare) Tacama official tours have been postponed until reconstruction is completed. So while I didn't get to see the whole operation, I did get to peek around, and taste their wines, the most important part.

It looks dry, doesn't it? Well, it was.

The second bodega was an artisanal bodega which specializes in sweet wines and pisco. Pisco is an alcohol, like vodka, but made with grapes, and Peruvians love their Pisco. On this tour, I got to see the antiquated ways they processed their wine (which didn't seem sanitary, but then again it's alcohol) and tasted all sorts of sweet wines (which I don't like), piscos, and a Peruvian version of Bailey's, with Pisco, spices, and milk. My stomach is turning thinking about that trago.

I'm sitting on a huge press, which functions when people turn the giant wooden handle on the enourmous screw in the background. It gets the last of the juices from the grape skins.

Instead of wooden barrels, they used clay pots. So resourceful.

Nazca

2009-07-31T10:37:00.000-07:00

The Nazca lines are drawings on the ground believed to have been made by the Nazca culture between 200 and 700 B.C. They were made by removing the reddish pebbles on the ground, revealing the lighter sand/earth underneath. No one is exactly sure with what purpose they were constructed. Perhaps it was religious or astronomical. So far, the windless, arid climate has preserved these drawings. They can only be seen in two ways: either walk up a really tall ladder at the mirador to get a look at just two of the pictures (lame!) or take a sobrevuelo (an overflight.) I took a sobrevuelo.

Luckily for me, two other couples were on my flight, which meant that since I was solo, I got to sit next to the pilot. His name was Andy, (in South America they love naming kids with American names, Yessica, Brian, etc.) and belive it or not, he lived in Chicago for 3 years in the town next to where I grew up while he was getting his pilot's license. No me digas! (you don't say!)

It's one thing to be in a 6 passenger plane and flying straight. It's another to be dipping at an angle doing 360 clockwise for one side to see the lines, and then leaning over to the other side and going counter-clockwise for the rest of the passengers immediately after. But Andy showed me how to lean into it...

This is the fertile land next to the desert area where the lines are.

Can you see the bird?

This one has a monkey in the top, left-hand corner. (Nazca is no where near the jungle, or monkeys f.y.i.)

This is a hummingbird.

While good at fixing planes, the mechanic that took this shot clearly does not know how to compose a good photograph.

Monasterio de Santa Catalina

2009-07-31T10:10:00.001-07:00

Not too shabby, eh? I'm surprised America's Next Top Model hasn't done a photo shoot here.

The Santa Catalina monastery was a cloistered convent built in 1580. In these times, it was traditional for the second son or daughter in each family to enter religious service. This convent accepted only women from high-class Spanish families who could provide huge dowries. It was really only a convent by name, not for those set upon living a life of chastity and poverty. Each nun at Santa Catalina had between one and four servants or slaves, and the nuns invited musicians to perform in the convent, gave parties and lived a lavish lifestyle.

In 1871 the pope sent a Dominican nun to clean the place up, return the dowries, free the slaves and bring piety back to the place. In 1970, it was restored and open to the public. There are still about 20 devout nuns, living in one small section of the monastery.

Liz with el Misti (active volcano) behind her. This is taken from the mirador (lookout) of the monastery.

I'm pretending to cook with an old iron skillet. I would have been a happy servant here.

Finally!!! Liz makes it to a confessional!

Semaforos y Alpaca Mundo con Liz!

2009-07-27T18:51:00.000-07:00

A lovely shot of Arequipa's main plaza. Right below the terrace we were on was one of very few intersections with a stoplight. (Driving or walking through the rest of the non-stoplight, non-stop sign intersections was tricky, you couldn't be bashful, you had to put the left foot in, and then the right foot in, and walk into the melee with faith that they'll stop, which they will.)

So, when this particular stoplight allowed for pedestrian crossing, it played a little ditty: a tinny Beethoven sampling followed by staccato beeping. It was amusung at first, but if you sat in any restaurant nearby, you'd go mad listening to it. Nice plaza otherwise.

Liz and I went to Alpaca World, which I thought was just going to be a store. It was that, PLUS an almost-museum of Alpaca! There was a sort-of farm with a few live alpaca milling about; piles of shorn wool, ready to be cleaned; a little stand showing how it is cleaned and sorted; and outside, some camera-ready scenes showing how you get the final products: hanks of finished, dyed yarn, hanging from nails in the wall and two lonely-seeming women weaving with the yarn. Honestly the women looked more forlorn than the animals at the fake farm in front.

If so much wool is black and brown (alpaca wool falls in a 24 (I think!) color spectrum from white to black) then how do we get all the pretty colors? That's what I want to know.

Juanjo Language School

2009-07-27T18:49:00.000-07:00

I took a few brush-up Spanish classes at Juanjo language school in Arequipa. It was pretty informal, run by a married couple: Juan Jose (they call him Pepe, I’m not sure why) and his wife Malena. They are totally bizarre. When I first met Pepe, he wanted to find out my language skills and did so by asking me about myself and telling me some personal stories. One of the things that most stood out was that he used to take and sell steroids. He told me “Es divertido e interesante jugar con el cuerpo.” (It’s interesting and fun to play with your body) When people that you’re paying in a foreign country start telling you these things in a foreign language, you just nod and act polite, ask some questions, and keep the fact that they’re crazy to yourself.

Sometime later he went on to explain that through his “supplement” business he met lots of people. (His uncle or some relative is the mayor of Arequipa, so he’s well connected anyway.) You can imagine the types to come and buy steroids. One was a tattoo artist, who he recommended to me if I wanted a tattoo or piercing, no-thank-you-very-much. Another was actually part of a group of robbers.

These robbers have two modus operandi. First, they operate pirate taxi companies, pick up passengers, take them NOT to their destination, but to a place where other thugs are waiting, hit you until you give them your PIN and debit card and then leave you. Sometimes it ends even less nicely then just being stranded and beat up. He told me about what happened once when one of the thugs by chance attacked a policeman. It ended with the policeman getting a payoff. Not a surprise. “Are there any policemen that don’t take bribes?” “The women cops,” he said. “They’ve got something to prove.”

Pepe then instructed me as how to AVOID these taxis. He said they all used to be red, but now they’re blue, because people were catching on. Jesus Cristo! He showed me how to choose a taxi “con confianza,” with confidence. There are three criteria: the taxi has to have a certain license plate with the same numbers written on all the doors, a particular style of sign on top, and a special certificate inside. I’m not sure someone couldn’t reproduce these, so I went with the three main companies.

The second thing thugs do is rob houses and sell the stolen goods at a flea market on Saturdays. (A friend had her things stolen on a bus, Pepe said, “Too bad they weren’t stolen in Arequipa, we could have gone to buy them back!) Pepe said he is protected from these house-robbers because of his connections from the supplement business.

Needless to say, classes with Pepe were not only on grammar, but on learning the ways of the underworld in Peru. I could go on at length with other stories he delighted me with about narcotraficantes, but I think you get the picture.

backpacker permutation

2009-07-25T18:48:00.000-07:00

After Colca, the next adventure was to travel north to Puno, where you stay when visiting Lake Titicaca. Here, I met up with Liz! We went to the floating islands of the Uros, stepped on their land/reeds, and dressed in their typical clothes! We ran into Rachel, Aine, and Hugh! We had a great time! Unfortunately, I cannot SHOW you any of this because I lost/was robbed of my camera after I returned to Arequipa. And I didn't download the Liz meetup/Puno pictures onto my laptop before that happened. How flashpacker* of me!

Meetup with Liz was great! After spending 7 hours on a bus from Arequipa, I was happy just to stand up. (Un)fortunately we got there at the same time. Liz’s bus should have arrived two hours earlier than mine, but her bus made stops because it kept breaking down. The funny thing, is that when it came into Puno, I bet they kept using it, sending it on to the next destination.

I will give more Puno highlights soon!

*On the way to Lima, I read in Lan-Peru's bilingual, in-flight magazine about a new breed in the evolution of the backpacker. While backpacking implies independent, budget travel, the flashpacker is a bit more money-flexible, isn’t quite so dorm-room/shared bathroom/internet cafe but rather, laptop-toting/picture down-loading/wi-fi signal searching/private room/even boutique hotel.

How low can you go?

2009-07-24T20:47:00.000-07:00

Seen in Nazca

Have you ever stayed at (or seen?!) a hotel with zero stars? I think a 1 star hostel in Cadiz for Carnaval was my lowest-rated ever. This isn't my hotel by the way.

Sure, I'll try it

2009-07-24T17:16:00.000-07:00

I’m eating a bag of pretzels I just got from Ica Mercado. They’re the thin kind. After the disappointing first bite, I wonder, “Is this what they think pretzels are supposed to taste like?”

I find that when I eat some locally made (junk) foods like these pretzels, cookies, or even ketchup, I am often struck with this succession of thoughts:

Huh. Do they like that their (any food/condiment) tastes like this? It tastes off, am I right? Am I right?!

And yet I keep holding try-outs. Because it’s a beautiful occasion when you can add something to your food repertoire in a foreign country… It's as though, for the short time you're here, you want to form alliances.

You want a candy brand. Buying junk food in new countries is different, it's not like shopping at 7-11. What will these cookies taste like? Will they be better than the chocolatey thing from yesterday? It's sort of exciting!

And the best part is getting to choose who you buy these surprises from: an old woman from her corner cart, maybe a man manning his we've-got-everything-store, or else from the lady in the plaza selling items from the wooden box she has hanging around her neck? What is this dreamy number over here, next to the lollipops and bubble gum? I've never seen THAT before. What do you think THAT's going to be like? Will I like it? It's a gamble. It's worth knowing either way.

Colca Canyon

2009-07-19T16:08:00.000-07:00

Colca Canyon's deepest point is at 13,648 feet deep,
which does not necessarily coincide with elevation, I think.

Teisha and I hiking on Day 1

We started our trek by hiking out of the town of Cabanaconde, which is at 10, 784 feet. We left the town around noon and hiked down into the canyon for about 3.5 hours. Our guide enticed us to go a little off the beaten path (literally) to get to a site where there were hot springs. The hike going down into the canyon was not too bad, but I kept thinking that at some point, we were going to have to hike up...

Going down...

The lodge from the first night was a wonderful surprise,
with naturally heated pools, as promised. The huts were nestled
right into the mountain, making it possible to hear the gurgle of the
white waters while eating and resting.

These are the cabins at the lodge. They face the river.

Meeting people, getting to Colca, and more new people

2009-07-19T15:41:00.000-07:00

At school one morning, I met a girl named Teisha. Without knowing her for too long, we decided to take a weekend trip to Colca Canyon. She’s a second-year med student from Salt Lake City who is traveling for 9 weeks through South America. One night Teisha and I took a salsa class and met an English girl named Olivia, who is on her second “gap year” from London. Olivia, also a med student, was interested in our trip and decided to come along.

Colca Canyon is more than twice as deep as the Grand Canyon and there are many tour companies that offer different trips to visit it. We decided on a three-day trek. In order to get to our destination with enough time to hike to the campsite on the first day, we had to leave Arequipa at 3 a.m.! I don’t care where you’re going in the US, but your tour group is not leaving at three in the morning, that much I know. So, I took a nap on Friday afternoon and set my alarm, which turned out to be unnecessary because Tula came in to check on me, had prepared tea and a snack and waited with me until the tour group picked me up, which wasn’t until 3:45-ish. My own mom (no offense mom) wouldn’t even have done that.

So, after a hellish overnight bus trip, we arrived in Chivay with frost on the windows, ate breakfast and then continued on. Along the way, we stopped at an observation point where it was possible to see multitudes of condors. Five minutes would have been enough, but we were there 40… Finally we reached Cabanaconde around lunchtime, where Teisha, Olivia, and I discovered that we were not moving on with the rest of the people that were on our bus, but had our own personal guide, named Diego. But, as luck would have it, ms. serendipity intervened. Before leaving the town for our first trek, Diego ran off to buy something and he came back with three Irish people who had been looking for a guide, so it turned out that we were actually going to be a group of 7. These three, Rachel, Hugh, and Aine (Irish for Anna, pronounced Aña) were just amazing to trek with, and we were so fortunate that they joined us.

These are the condors.

Arequipa y mi familia

2009-07-14T22:10:00.000-07:00

Arequipa is the second biggest city in Peru after Lima. In the background of Arequipa are some mountains, but the most spectacular is El Misti, an active volcano. In addition, there is a beautiful river running through the city. It’s fast, kind of clean looking, with boulders and rapids. It’s quite a beautiful sight.

Arequipa doesn’t have a ton of touristy stuff to do. It’s mostly just a regular city, where local people live, work, and play. This is a more preferable place to study and live with a family, then say Cusco, because it’s less touristy. This means that, among other things: there are fewer people begging you to buy their paintings and woven goods (Amiga, comprame algo. Friend, buy something from me), fewer British pubs (I guess the whole world likes a British pub) and it is less expensive in general.

I’m staying with a family at a house in a neighborhood called Umacollo, which is just outside the centro, near the Universidad Católica. The family I’m staying with is fabulous, mostly because the mom is AMAZING. Her name is Tula and she’s silly and wonderful and easy to understand. Both parents are dentists. They have two children, 23-year-old Daniel who is an industrial engineer and is also in a band (they practice their Latin/Funk/Rock in the basement) and 21-year-old Claudia, who is studying at the university. On top of that, there are two other Peruvian students living there, Indira and Ana Cecilia. It appears that it’s quite normal for students to live with local families, and not stay in dorms. In fact, I’m not even sure there ARE dorms. On top of this, students that don’t want to eat on the street or in the school cafeteria (IF there is one) make arrangements to eat lunch at our house also. When I come home from class at 1 o’clock, there are 5 or 6 people eating, and it’s grand! Tula is an excellent cook and treats us well. We have two courses, always. First, a soup (It’s not a meal here without soup, which is lovely!), and then a big plate of local cuisine. It’s wonderful and takes the guesswork out of having to feed myself because eating out for every meal is exhausting.

Really, golden arches in the Andes?!

2009-07-07T21:21:00.000-07:00

In the main square we noticed a McDonalds. I wondered how many Cusqueños ate there. After a few days of eating at local restaurants, which can be amazing and exhausting simultaneously, I realized it was probably mostly tourists. Mike agreed, “When you go in there, there’s no bargaining, you know what’s on the menu, you’ll get exactly what you expect and pay for, you don’t have to befriend your waiter and tell them about yourself, and you can leave when you want to. McDonalds is like the hooker of restaurants."

La Valle Sagrada- Sacred Valley

2009-07-07T18:21:00.001-07:00

The Sacred Valley includes everything parallel to the Urumamba river, close to the capital Cusco and below the sacred, ancient city Machu Picchu. The valley was appreciated, or sacred, for its geographical and climactic qualities. The Incas took advantage of its natural resources and found it be be the best place to grow maize.

This next picture is of terraced land near ruins in Pisac, one of the villages along the Urubamba river, part of the Sacred Valley. The hillside is lined with agricultural terraces constructed by the Inca and still in use today. The terraces enabled the locals to produce surplus food more than would normally be possible at altitudes as high as 11,000 feet. The ruins included religious temples as well. Besides the agricultural and religious aspects, the town also served a military purpose. It is thought that Písac defended the southern entrance to the Sacred Valley.

The word for corn here is choclo, not elote. And it is corn with the biggest kernels I have ever seen! Women sell it on the street. I even bought it once through a train window when we stopped at a small town on our way to Machu Picchu. They give it to you steaming hot with "fresh" cheese (I skip the cheese even though it kills me, who knows when the last time that shit was refrigerated!). You use the husk like a plate/napkin. I'm not sure if this picture does the corn justice but it's worth a shot:

Cusco

2009-07-07T16:58:00.000-07:00

One of the things that confused Mike, in addition to having to pay for the bathroom:

Interesting street art. Doesn't this look like an Andean woman crossed with the wicked witch of the West?! I love it!

This is the main plaza, Plaza de Armas:
This is a different view of the same plaza...(with Mike)
One day there was a parade, the streets surrounding the plaza were filled with people celebrating Jesus. Mike SWEARS they were shooting cannons. I think they were just using old cars that occasionaly SOUNDED like cannons. What I found incredibly interesting, if not disturbing, were the people that were clearly Andinos, proclaiming their Catholic faith. I wondered, don't they realize they are only Christian because they were conquered by the Spanish? Why don't they resurrect their old beliefs? Here is a perfect picture to show what I mean:

Madre something, that's for sure

2009-07-04T16:00:00.001-07:00

Today is Saturday, and while all of you are probably at 4th of July shindigs, I am spending my first evening in Arequipa. Yesterday Mike and I left Cusco, he for Lima, and I for Arequipa. So, since I'll be here for a few weeks, I now have the time (and hopefully a strong enough Airport signal) to put up some pictures and tell a few stories...

The picture above is of the Plaza de San Blas in the artisanal neighborhood of the same name. It's also where our hostel, Madre Tierra was located.

This is our hostel. It was so cute, it was like a little garden inside, with plants everywhere, the breakfasts were simple but included different, delicious, fresh juice daily, and the neighborhood was quaint, yet lively...

I wanted to like it so much...but alas, the smell of burning pine and other lumber (not chopped firewood, but 2 x 4s and other cut wood) permeated the place and came into our room through its interior windows. Our room was on the second floor, directly above where the fireplace was, with no windows to the street, so the smelly air just stayed there and got stale.

The thin walls allowed us to hear every movement made by other guests, not to mention the shared bathroom wall which had a window(?) where the wall meets the ceiling, which let in light when our neighbors used their bathroom...even if, let's say, it were 4:30 in the morning. And this wouldn't be a problem, except that our bathroom door was just glass. So when someone needed to be up early (as people traveling and going on tours often do), we were privy to their morning routine. Ugh. And they didn't accept credit cards, to boot.

Andean woman dressed in typical clothes walking with an alpaca: Women and children wander around, asking you to take a photo and you have to pay for it. You want the photo. Why? I'm not sure. Maybe because the colorful, detailed clothing is beautiful? Because their bodies and faces are shaped differently than your own? Because they're walking with an alpaca? And you wonder: who's exploiting whom? Through what lens am I looking at these people? And why are the children SO adorable?!

Par-tay

2009-07-04T15:27:00.000-07:00

I saw an advertisement for an all-night rock concert. It seemed like it was going to be a rowdy, fun event for local people, as it was near their university, far from the touristy area. We didn’t know any of the musical groups playing, obviously, but I thought it would be an interesting way to spend part of an evening, as it's name was ‘jardin de cerveza’ (beer garden).
After we spent the day touring Cusco, and eating dinner, we began to make our way to the spot. Of course, I had my map out, it was not easy to find. As we approached the location, I got excited! When we finally got to the right intersection, people were shouting out deals to come to their bars, and there were huge groups cusqueños (Cusco locals) drinking in the street, kind of like a botellón en Spain. Everyone was standing around, laughing, smoking, and chatting. They were passing around 2 liter bottles of soda and liquor before they entered and had to pay bar prices.
Mike looked around, and said, “Erica, Let’s not go in. Let’s go somewhere else.” I said, “Come on, it’s not dangerous.” He said, “No, it’s not that. Look at us. I have on a backback. You’re carrying Let’s Go, Peru with your finger holding open the map. It’s like going to a rave in your church clothes.” I looked at us, our clothes and all of the shit we were carrying. He was right, we looked more uncool, than out of place. We left, went to a bar, and decided the next time we went out, we would stop at our hostel first and drop off our gringo gear…

Cusco

2009-07-03T12:08:00.000-07:00

A child that moved me emotionally at Cusco's indoor market:

Cusco's indoor market: There are dangling alpaca carcasses right behind me. I'm sparing you.

Cusco's main square: The Plaza de Armas. The flags are representative of the 4 parts of the Incan empire, not to be confused with you know what...

And by mañana, I meant when I felt like it...

2009-07-01T15:33:00.001-07:00

So, Mike and I have had some epic days here... some highlights:

(By the way, there may be some grammatical errors and confusing thoughts here. I can explain, I swear. First, almost every keyboard I use here has keys with the letters rubbed off, and the keyboards themselves are different, so misspellings might be abundant. And the number keys have two additional symbols and I can´t figure out how to get to the second one. Second, my brain hurts. Not from altitude, but from translating for Mike. I´m not complaining, but after a few day-long tours, I´m just... burnt out. He´s been a sweetheart about it though. At the beginning of tours I explain things very thoroughly, by the end, I summarize:

Erica: He said these ruins are 1000 years old.
Mike: That´s all he said? He spoke for a few minutes.
Erica: Yup, that was the most important part. :)

So, back to the highlights...

Museo de Coca (Liz, I highly recommend you go here! It was fascintaing!)

We went to this museum about the history of the coca leaf. Basically, it´s been used for centuries as a supplement that takes away hunger, pain, and cold. It´s sacred to the people here now, as it has been for centuries. The guide showed us art (clay figurines) of ancient people with bulges on the side of their mouths, from holding the coca leaves there. He showed us mummies of sacrificed children, with their offerings, including corn and coca leafs. He showed us different tools used to ingest coca, as well as these ashy products made from burnt quinoa that were used along with coca to enhance its effects.
It wasn´t until the middle 1800s that western doctors explored the uses of the coca. The leaf is pretty complete, with vitamins, minerals, and amino acids (who knew!) and it was after that, when a German scientist (whose name I can´t remember) isolated the chemical cocaine out of the leaf, that it was used in Western medicine. He showed us evidence of Freud´s RIDICULOUS use of cocaine and how he would treat patients with it. It wasn´t until it was proven addictive that it became illegal, even though it´s medicinal uses were plenty.
Then we learned about the drug-trafficiking of cocaine, how it´s made (pretty nasty, and pollutive: during the process, which usually takes place far in the jungle, the makers toss all the byproducts, which include kerosene?!) and what the government does to rid these people of their crops. The US sprays the land and pretty much kills everything in it´s path, including wildlife and other plants, as well as making the water in the rivers unpotable. He showed us some children´s artwork that shows before /after pictures of the land. Next, he explained that there are movements to industrialize the use of the coca leaf, not cocaine itself, in "energy" drinks, foods, sodas, beers, etc. (There are stores that stell this stuff, like chocolate and caramels. I wanted to like them, but they´re pretty gross tasting, I have to admit.)
Finally, he showed us what happens when people abuse cocaine (not coca leaves) and had pictures of famous people who clearly had gone overboard with the drug; Diego Maradona, Amy Winehouse (is she really that well known in South America? I guess...) and Freddie Mercury. In fact, he had posted one of the last poems that Freddie Mercury wrote and it was an ode to cocaine, lamenting how his love for her cost him his friends, his family and his life. Que fuerte!

La Valle Sagrada

We went on a tour of a few towns around the Urubamba valley known as the sacred valley. (Urubamba is the river that flows and connects Cusco, tother smaller towns and finally Machu Picchu. There are Incan and pre-Incan ruins in these towns. It´s sort of hard to explain without the pictures, but let´s say there are huge monolithic constructions with rocks that seem like they would be impossible to move, let alone stack on top of each other. And they did it all without mortar, it´s just rock on rock, and they fit perfectly. It´s like tetris except there are more than four shapes, and no joystick.
Needless to say, my favorite part was when we went to the last town of Chinchero and an Incan descendant showed us how they clean and prepare alpaca wool to spin and dye it into yarn!!!! They use all natural products (roots) to clean it and different seeds and leaves to dye the wool. To get the color red, they use insects. Insects!!!! I dare say that no one was as enraptured as I was during this part of the tour.

Right now, Mike and I are in a cafe in Aguascalientes, a jumping off point to get to Machu Picchu, which we will go to (very) early tomorrow. Tomorrow evening we return to Cusco by train, and spend our last night together before he leaves for Lima, and before I go somewhere else (still haven´t decided where). The next time I post, I´ll probably be on my own. Remind me to tell you about the day we hiked with the shaman and did cleansing ceremonies in the campo (countryside). That´s a story that deserves a post of its own...

Hasta luego!

La llegada

2009-06-27T16:23:00.000-07:00

So, after many hours spent in O´Hare and Miami International, Mike and I arrive in Lima, Peru. On separate planes, in fact. Who knew that 2 flights to Lima would leave within 20 minutes of each other? And that Mike would buy tickets for the flight that I was NOT on.

Lima gets such a bad rap, but it was not unspectacular! Of course la garua (the fog) was covering the city until about 11 a.m. and made it seem dreary... but when it burned off, the city was bright and cheery. We walked in our neighborhood and came upon a mall built into the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Not too shabby!

We took a city tour in the afternoon and evening. Hmm... the places we saw were government buildings that really held no interest for me, but at the end of the tour we went to a church with catacombs. Who doesn´t love catacombs?! And what great timing, we went out to eat afterwards. Yum, I love to eat when I´m covered in hundred year old bone dust. The meal was fabulous however, and the ceviche was to-die-for. (Ha! I couldn´t help myself.)

Our flight was leaving Lima the next morning at 5:30 a.m. Mike, being a prudent traveler, insisted we leave our hotel by 2:30, since our seats on the flight were unconfirmed. (You can book a ticket online for Lan Airlines, but you cannot confirm it online. This is the where Mike begins to understand the complexities of South America, he used the word ´tricky´) Needless to say we were more then early, as the airport desk did not even open until 4. And since we had fallen asleep at the airport, we didn´t even wake up in time to get in line right away. So, we wait in line, and finally by 5 we get our boparding passes. Oh but wait, next is the line for the airport fee (cash only!) and then security...When we get to the gate we have to catch a bus, which takes us to the plane, which then takes off. Many obstacles.

We arrive in Cusco, our ears bombarded by pan flutes and people offering their tour services. The soleche (altitude sickness) begins to set in and our heads are slightly pulsating. (Is soleche also caused by pan flutes? It certainly doesn´t help...

Well, tomorrow I will post pictures. (I learned that you use the word colgar when you want to say that you post things on the internet) Entonces voy a colgar fotos de Cusco manana and I will tell you more about my Aventura Andina (Andean Adventure)

CHAU!

Mantengase alejado de la puerta!

2009-06-22T15:41:00.000-07:00

I'll be traveling in Peru for the next 5 weeks and want to keep my friends and family updated on my adventure (not everyone has facebook!), so check here for pictures, amusing stories and anecdotes on Peru...