Americans in Kampala Uganda. 12/21/2018
Posted on Saturday 22 December: Greetings from Kampala, Uganda –
We headed out fairly early – by taxi – for Nakasero Market located in the center of Kampala. It’s huge and mostly about food. It’s divided into two sections – an open area where sellers are located under literally hundreds and hundreds of well-worn umbrellas to protect themselves and their produce from the sun (and rain). The other part of the market (which stretches for several blocks) is focused on hardware, clothing, and miscellaneous items. We strolled for about 90 minutes amid the vendors and customers. We were literally the only tourists there. It’s a body-to-body experience, squeezing through tiny aisles along with shoppers, workers carrying trays on their heads, workers carrying huge sacks of flour or rice or whatever.
We walked the thin line of wanting to see everything and to photograph and not wanting to get in the way of the people who really needed to be there to work and to shop. Most people were friendly; some didn’t want their photos taken. Some tried to speak Italian to us, thinking we were from Italy. (So now we’ve been recognized as Italian, Icelandic, French, and Russian; never once as Americans). Several people (when I stopped to chat and photograph) were surprised we were from the US; those few who had heard ort California responded “Schwartzenegger!” and one thought he was the President of California. Apparently his movies are well watched here in Uganda. I talked to one father sitting off to a side with his 6-year old son, whose name was “Michael Jordan!” And one man wanted us to hire him to be our “house guard;” every house of any significance, and all public and private buildings in Uganda have their own guard or guards (in fact when you pull up to any restaurant a guard inspects the car before you can bring the car close to the restaurant). When we said we didn’t have a guard, the guy was very shocked and then said “You must be poor.”
During our walk through the market, Mike tasted some sauteed grasshoppers. I begged off; I’ve eaten fried ones in Mexico which were actually good, but I just wasn’t up for it that early in the day.
Hooked up with the taxi and headed to Owino Market – which began in 1971 with 320 vendors and today there are 50,000 vendors!!! Trust me, that number is real. The market started as a food market and over time diversified into all sorts of other items including a giant shoe area, clothing, scrap metal, cooked food, chicken and meat and fish. Owino makes Nakasero seem like a little corner grocery.
Owino, is the biggest open market in Uganda and probably in all of East Africa – covering about 17 acres. Despite this vast area, it is totally overcrowded. I’d say that about three quarters of the vendors are female.
It’s totally impossible to describe and also impossible to photograph Owino Market. You can barely stand in one spot for more than a few seconds since the crowds are moving along and you sort of need to move along with them. It’s also not just a visual experience; it affects all senses. We’ve been to markets all over the world – in Southeast Asia, South and Central America, India, and more – but this one is not only the largest but also the most complex market I’ve experienced. Not sure how one finds their way around or out. The taxi driver sort of followed us around and also bought himself two shirts while we were busy photographing. He said it was impossible to find one’s way around.
After about 90 minutes we headed to the street and into the taxi. And then the fun began. We decided we would go to the Uganda Museum which was only about 5 kilometers from the market. But the streets were gridlocked. We literally sat in the car for about 15 minutes without moving at all; eventually we moved at a snail’s pace – It took us more than 70 minutes to go the 5 kilometers. If it wasn’t so complicated to navigate the route, we would have walked.
On the long drive and as we passed through many different neighborhoods whose residential wealth or poverty appeared somewhat obvious we discussed with the driver what kind of people lived in each area. The taxi driver offered that Kampala has five economic classes. He then gave examples of who was in each of the classes. Frankly, the conversation started because I asked what kind of people shopped at Owino Market versus Nakasero Market.
By the time we got to the rather dusty and poorly organized museum, we were exhausted and headed to a little café next door to the museum for fresh fruit smoothies. And we made a short pitstop in a little shop where all the goods were made by women affiliated with various NGOs.
Then we headed to the hotel where we were to meet up with Martin again. Naturally we were a bit late given the traffic, but he, too, needed to face traffic so all was good.
We headed up and down more of the hills and neighborhoods that comprise Kampala. A few facts I haven’t mentioned.
- The climate is much more comfortable than I had imagined given that this is summer time, and we are basically at the equator. The elevation at about 4000 feet helps and the continuous breezes from Lake Victoria save the place.
- The roads up and down all these hills are in incredibly poor condition: no lights, deep ditches on either side of the one lane in each direction roads; no striping; potholes that can be as deep as 6 or 8 inches everywhere; bikes, motorbikes, cars, trucks all vying for their space on the road.
- Radio stations seem to have a large number of public service “stories” that are sandwiched between every two songs. Some are like little telenovelas but with only sound. One was a new mom talking with her husband while the baby cried. The dad says that the mom should do something about the crying baby and the mom says she is washing her hands because she just changed the diaper. The dad says “But the baby is crying” and the mom says “Better for the baby and the rest of the family not to get sick because she was starting to cook and without washing her hands would be worse than letting the baby cry for a while. The mom says something about .. the baby won’t die from crying but could die if the mom didn’t wash her hands before touching food. Obviously, they didn’t get into the fact that the dad could deal with the crying baby…. Step by step.. And there are posters and campaigns everywhere regarding AIDS. Uganda has the highest infection rate in the world, I believe.
- Some great photos I didn’t get included in these posts include women in full burkas on motorcycles (as passengers); in fact I don’t think I’ve seen women driving motorcycles at all.
- Men in the market ask Mike if I am his wife or sister. Then they often ask how many wives Mike has.
- Healthcare in Uganda is almost non-existent.. but more on that in another letter.
With Martin driving (and an unexpected guest for our drive and dinner – Elliott, a young cousin of Martin (Elliot’s aunt is apparently one of Martin’s father’s several wives) — we headed for a view of Lake Victoria and also dinner. Along the way we had more time to discuss his years in the US (about 12) and his sense of racism in America. He was quite astute about the problems and the history of racism in the states. Eventually (thousands of potholes later), we arrived at Cassia Lodge where we had spectacular views of Lake Victoria and a wonderful sunset with a nearly perfect full moon. After a nice dinner, we bid Martin farewell and headed back to Humura.
Take care –
Fern
6/3/2019. More Old Friends and More Helsinki
Moi Moi –
So, I hear #45 is on this side of the ocean, trying to be presidential. The Finns find this simultaneously hysterical and scary.
Set out this morning with a first stop at Fazer, the more than 100 year old bakery (with many locations) that probably exemplifies all the wonderful pastries and breads of Finland. I had my favorite breakfast pastry – from Northern Karelia region — oval-shaped and filled with some kind of rice and potato and topped with egg butter which is made from hard boiled eggs mashed with butter. The Finns have lots of pastries that are for special holidays and their holidays are often for poets (like Runeberg) or musicians or writers. The arts are an integral part of the culture. So, for example, on Runeberg’s birthday there is a special and quite wonderful raspberry and rum tart dessert that is popular – supposedly this was Runeberg’s favorite dessert as a child and it is prepared the way his mother made it. Not many we heroes here – but lots of heroes in the cultural world.
From there I strolled to the kauppatori (the marketplace located at the harbor); it’s changed a lot since we lived here. At that time, we relied on the market for our daily food purchases (since we didn’t have a freezer and only had a teeny refrigerator). Now there are a lot of stalls selling souvenirs and I suppose most Finns are shopping in the many wonderful supermarkets they now have – or in the more local markets instead of this main market. When we lived here, there were dozens of little fishing boats lined up at the shore selling fish right from the boats; now that harbor gets a lot of cruise ships where passengers get off the boat for the day and “see” Finland. So it’s a different place. Still lovely and fun to walk. There’s also a great indoor market there.
I strolled down the Esplanade to reach the market area, passing the gallery where I had an exhibit of my work while living here (Galeria Artek). The gallery is no longer and is now some kind of upscale shop selling Finnish goods.
I met up with Mike at the Design Museum which had 2 fantastic shows: a history of Finnish design through products (called Utopia Now) and an upstairs show with works by COMPANY. For more than a decade, Aamu Song and Johan Olin have travelled around the world, looking for traditional crafts to understand the techniques and manufacturing skills of these products. The duo has visited workshops and master craftspeople in many countries including Japan, Russia, and Mexico. They’ve collected all sorts of craft art pieces, clothing, accessories and furniture some of which they created together with masters of these crafts. Their goal is to bring attention to the endangered role of crafts and the skills needed to sustain them, as well as the unsustainability of today’s consumer culture. They are trying to show alternatives to this kind of consumerism.
Prior to going to the Design Museum, we stopped for a light lunch at Juuri which is about a block away on Korkeavankatu. Shared three “sapas” (what the Finns call their tapas): herring with crispy fried rye and marinated fennel; a lamb croquette with yogurt and mint; and a cucumber side dish that had some kind of creamy cheese. After the Design Museum we strolled back to the hotel on a lot of small streets, returning to streets we hadn’t seen during previous visits over the years. And we walked within the “design center” neighborhood (of which the street on which we lived is a part!)
Reached the hotel just in the nick of time to meet Tatu, the son of some old friends when we were here in Helsinki, Anne and Tapani (who I mentioned in a previous note). Together we went to visit Tapani, who was diagnosed with Alzheimers about 7 years ago. We were all running late, so we hopped into a taxi to get to the Verahamaki neighborhood which is about 20 miles from Helsinki. Tapani was clearly waiting for us, sitting on the outside deck of his first floor “apartment,” in the assisted living facility that he’s been in since his wife (Anne) passed away a few years ago.
He’s gained weight, and he’s clearly forgetful, but he’s got incredible spirit and has maintained his same rye sense of humor that he had years ago – noting that he had completed all the important research in Finnish demographics so there is nothing left for anyone else to research (and therefore it’s ok that he’s not doing his work any more)… and then said that probably when he came to the university as a young faculty member some older faculty member who was retiring said the same thing! He showed us around and noted that we should order anything we want at the café/bar that is inside the facility. “Everything is free,” he stated. “I never have to pay.” Later he suggested we all get ice cream at the café and again reminded us that one cannot pay there – “It’s all free!”
He most definitely remembered both of us, which was nice and he knew that we were friends for a long time. We reminded him that we had visited the family when he was a Fulbright professor at the University of Wisconsin. He seemed to recall something about it, but said it was hard to remember but he had happy memories with us. It was good to see him in good and happy spirits, but obviously sad knowing what a brilliant sociologist he had been. He mentioned that he still plays chess, so Mike took him up on it and that had a very intense game that ended in a draw. Mike said he was very alert for the game, but when it went on for a long time he began to get tired. We walked him back to his room, where he noted that he gets a delivery of three beers each night. True to form, the beers were sitting at his table. Once a Finn, always a Finn. He noted that he wouldn’t be driving so it was OK to have the beers!
Then Tatu, Mike, and I took the bus back to downtown and had dinner at Gaijin, an Asian-inspired Finnish restaurant. I’d been here twice before and it was as good as all prior times. For the foodies, I think we had 6 tiny starters: salmon tartar on a black squid cracker, with a tobiko dressing, baby shrimps, and marinated trout roe; an edamame and avocado taco, with dried tomatoes, and wasabi mayonnaise; three pieces of fantastic dim sum… followed by two main courses: a steak tartare with a miso dressing and pickled mushrooms; and baby back ribs with a great marinade. I think we had something else (beyond drinks and wine), but can’t remember. It was great to reconnect with Tatu, whom we hadn’t seen in about 20 years. He lives in Los Angeles having emigrated to the US about 30 years ago. He’s turned into an interesting adult with good politics, a healthy critique of the US, and lots of fun. He has been coming to visit his family in Helsinki annually, since he got his green card and was able to travel (no easy task).
Dinner ended at about midnight, and we strolled to the hotel. Tatu headed to the Metro to get to the apartment he is using for the month. Amazing! By the way, the weather has been fantastic (in the 60s and sunny).
Tomorrow we face our last day in Helsinki and then head out on a very very early morning flight on Wednesday morning – transferring planes in London (complicated because we will be changing terminals and won’t be able to check bags straight through —- yes, here we are actually checking bags. A new thing for us. We usually try to do just carry-on, but this time it’s not going to work)
I’ll try to write the final chapter tomorrow if I have time… Another hectic day, including dinner on Sirpilasaari Island (you take a five-minute boat), with Antti and Heidi.
All the best –
Fern
July 31, 2012. From Cairanne (Violes) to Berlin
En Route to Berlin
Guten Tag
OK… left hotel at 5:30 am and drove to Nice (3+ hours) to catch a plane to Berlin via Brussels. The drive was fine, except that we were both pretty exhausted.. and it took every bit of alert energy to just make sure we were on the right road every step of the way… The GPS has been a lifesaver, along with checking the route over and again .. and our location.. on the iPhone app.
Made it to Nice Airport (whizzing by all the homes of the rich and famous in Cannes and Antibes)… and then flew to Brussels and changed planes to get to Berlin. Arrived in Berlin (a city we have not seen since the wall fell… we had been here oh so many years ago, having driven through the old East Germany from Sasnitz (took a boat from the southernmost tip of Sweden to the northernmost tip of Germany/East and drove to Berlin)… So it’s going to be interesting to spend a few days here.
Anyway, we just arrived at the Grand Hotel in Berlin.. a last minute choice.. and quite a change from the bordello in Violes. But had we done a bit more homework, probably would have stayed in a different area.. but this is fine and very very comfortable.
We’re off to dinner in about two hours.
I’ll try to write tomorrow ..
Auf Wiedersehen
Fern
Ps — See –Didn’t I say this was going to be a very calm trip and more on the boring side than our usual travels??
Cairanne. .July 29, 2012.. and Gordes
Bon Soir
Sitting on the porch at Richard and Elizabeth’s house (it’s about midnight here); the air is cool — which is nice given how unbearably hot it is during the day; and we’ve just finished dinner.
A pretty uneventful day– after our rather messy evening last night. Had brunch at the house (leftovers from dinner) with Mike’s brother, sister-in-law, two nieces, one boyfriend… lingered much longer than expected. The young crowd was headed to a wedding in Purtis (not to far from Aix en Provence), We agreed to drive one niece, while Elizabeth drove the others; no one’s car big enough to hold everyone. It was a 2-hour drive.
Oh, forgot to mention that this morning when we saw the Madame of the B&B (bordello-style place), we tried (in my elementary French to explain our problem of access from last night and we learned that while the gate “appears” to be locked, it’s actually just shut and that the chain that “appears” to be locked doesn’t have a lock on it.. so you just push these large gates open and that’s that! So much for us climbing onto ledges and being saved by the little flashlight.
Once we dropped Julia off in Purtris, we headed to Gordes — a wonderful old town built into the mountain about 1.5 hours away. We’d been there many years ago, and I had returned this past February, in the bitter cold. Seeing it today was a bit of a disappointment. The town has really become a tourist destination, overpriced everything.. Fortunately, when I was here with Carol in February we didn’t notice it was a tourist town because it was dead of winter and no tourist… just us.
But the basic infrastructure remains, .. and if you can find some way to get out of the way of the hordes of tourists (an impossibility) who are everywhere… it’s still an incredible town… To be quite honest, it’s almost better to just drive up the mountain and see the town as you approach.. which is a spectacular sight, as the town rises in the mountains as you approach. Unfortunately, as you get close in, it’s just packed with overpriced cafes and shops, and people. Anyway, we strolled a bit, had a $30 simple salad (just some tomato slices and buffalo mozzarella… and a large bottle of sparkling water ($10).
I must say — having been to Gordes this past February with snow on the ground and freezing cold weather and having half the town just shuttered… I’d opt for February over July! Still I’m glad I went again, and I’ll always like Gordes even though I doubt I’d return for many years to come.
Then we drove back to Violes, where I could get some work done… and then back to Richard and Elizabeth’s for dinner… and there you have it. No calamities, nothing unexpected.
July 30, 2012. Around Provence
Started out with breakfast at the B&B and then headed out by ourselves for Uzes (Richard and Elizabeth had stuff to do at home) — a totally charming town (which has also been found by tourists — mostly French and Brits), but — because it is a real town with people who work and live normal lives there (as opposed to Gordes, which from what I can tell has become a town driven by one industry – tourism) and because it is larger than Gordes, has maintained the charm and working aspect. Its markets are for real residents and you can easily drift into wonderful neighborhoods.
Uzes has a long history. It is the site of an aqueduct from the first century BC which supplied the city of Nimes with water. And the Pont du Gard remains the most famous stretch of that aqueduct (if you haven’t seen Pont du Gard — it’s worth a trip. By the way, Uzes was home to a significant (?) Jewish population in the 5th Century and the local Bishop welcomed the Jews, until the King admonished him and then all Jews fled, except those who agreed to be baptized. After the death of the king (or maybe the bishop), Jews returned and even if baptized returned to Judaism.
Well, I need to confess that Uzes is also a great little shopping town with some wonderful, small boutiques.. which I remembered from earlier trips.
From Uzes — at the last minute — we decided to drive up to Roussillon, a town we had never visited before and which is known for its red dirt (similar to Sedona and Molokai) and all the buildings are made of the red clay, making for a rather homogeneous setting. It’s quite beautiful — but like Gordes, without any industry or business center, is really just a town to attract tourists… Stayed a while, strolled up the hill for a view and down to the edges… had great ice cream, and then drove back to Violes to pack, and then head to Richard and Elizabeth’s for some homemade squid pasta in black ink.
They are really into cooking, and their house is extremely relaxing — so it’s been nice to eat at home (sort of reverse of the norm for us. Dinner was also delayed a bit as I was on Skype and then had to get documents sent to me from the office…
We pledged to leave by 11, so that we would have a good night’s sleep as we had to start out with a wake-up alarm the next morning (today) at 4 a.m. Well it didn’t quite work out, and we got back to the B&B around 1 am; finished final packing around 1:45 am… and that damn iPhone alarm went off as planned at 4 a.m. The “Madame” was up when we arrived and very nervous about us paying our bill, since we were leaving so early the next morning. Not sure what the problem was as they had our credit card. Finally realized that she couldn’t find our reservation which had all the information. I said she was a bit flitzy! Anyway, after a while I decided to head to the room and let her figure it out, especially since our communication in French/English is really stressful for both of us.
So this morning at 5:30 as we lugged the bags down the two flights (not using the wheels because we would have woken everyone up — assuming anyone else was staying there, which we never found out.)… there she was. She found the reservation and just needed the credit card — although try as she would she couldn’t get her little credit card machine to connect through the Internet… she was literally outside trying to connect. Finally something went through. And off we went.
Berlin:: August 2, 2012
Eineinhalb bis zweieinhalb Tage: August 2, 2012
Guten Abend —
We started out today at about 10 am (I was up until close to 3 a.m. with work)… at Café Einstein (which we learned is totally different from the Starbucks look-alike called Kaffe Einstein). Einstein Kaffe is just a coffee shop but Café Einstein is a full blown restaurant. There are two of the cafes, but many many of the coffee shops and they are totally separate. Can’t imagine how they were able to get the use of the name (Don’t think that could happen in the US — lawyers would be all over this!). Anyway we could get a full breakfast at the Café Einstein.
Got off to a not-so-good start as when we sat at an outside table at the café… literally at that moment.. a bird decided to do its thing on Mike’s shirt.. kerplop! If you weren’t Mike, it was pretty funny. And we were totally attacked by a single bee, who just couldn’t find anyone else to bother. Anyway, after this breakfast, we walked to the Reichstag with the intention of climbing to the top of the dome for what we assumed would be a spectacular view. It was really really hot today as we walked along Unter den Linden to reach the Reichstag… only to find out that you need a reservation to get to the dome and they were totally booked. So we then walked through the park to our next stop which would be the Bauhaus Museum (a building designed by Walter Gropius in 1964 and built soon after his death in 1976. .. The walk took us all along Embassy Row.. which includes dozens of new buildings developed I suppose when the capitol was moved from Bonn to Berlin.
I’ll call these buildings “architecture plop” as they appear to be just “plopped” along the street — no context to one another or to the street… Designed from afar, I assume, and then “plopped” down wherever. Total waste of (supposed) talent.. and I’m assuming money. Not my kind of building design at all, although I assume that the point of such “monuments” is just that.. to strike some “pose.” So, we trotted along in the unbearable heat (about 90 degrees) and humidity… to finally reach the Bauhaus Museum.. which was a true delight in many ways. Certainly, it, too, could be accused of being “plopped” but it was situated in a park-like setting making the “plop” factor minimum.. It is actually quite beautiful in its proportions and its stark white materials.
The Bauhaus was founded with the idea of creating a ‘total’ work of art in which all arts, including architecture would eventually be brought together, although architecture was not a program in the earliest years.
The permanent exhibit was like a trip down memory lane, in many ways, given that I was trained in a very very strong post-Bauhaus program at Pratt. Indeed some of the examples of the work of the “preliminary studio” was exactly what I had to do.. including creating three dimensional structures that portrayed “equilibrium in three dimensions” and intricate paper folding (the history of the FTA card – revealed!) The exhibit was quite good and very digestible, but they omitted a lot of the political history that embroiled the Bauhaus in the 30s, which they referred to as “conflicts” — carefully eliminating the reference to the fact that Mies Van der Roe never condemned the Nazis and in fact designed one of his landmark projects — the German Pavilion for Barcelona — under their regime. Instead the Museum kept referring to the fact that different founders of the Bauhaus “kept leaving”… The Museum also had a wonderful exhibit of paintings and studies and completed fabric work by Benita Koch Otte.
From there we had planned to trek about 5 kilometers more (we had already gone about 5 km) to the Jewish Museum, but opted for a taxi instead (a very good decision!). The Jewish Museum opened about 11 years ago and was designed by Daniel Libeskind and includes an old baroque building.. and a new glass courtyard installed in 2007. While the building itself can easily be distracting as its own “sculpture” and is not always totally conducive to exhibits — calling too much attention to itself — I actually didn’t mind it (except in a few cases.. but am sure that the curators and exhibit designers were really challenged by some of the shapes of the spaces), the permanent exhibit (except in a few hokey places) is really phenomenal, with tons of interactive, hands on portions and an extremely graphic and visual approach to such a complex subject as tracing the history of Jews over 3700 years… It was also truly a challenge to create a logical exhibition that could be understood by people of so many language, ages (children through seniors), cultures, etc. and wanting everyone to stay through the entire process of being informed. Overall — a great job. The temporary exhibit was a documentary photo exhibit of the 270,000 Russian Jews who immigrated to German (Berlin specifically) after they could leave the Soviet Union… their travails as they attempted to assimilate, learn German, understand what it means to be Jewish — and to make choices about their future.
OK.. from there we were headed to the Free University mostly to see the Philological Library… We opted for a taxi because it was about 20 km away, and the UBahn (rail) was not as close as we hoped.. and the heat was gaining. The University is located in a truly lovely part of Berlin… wonderful houses, tree-lined streets. We entered the University which is an interesting “matrix” intended, I believe, to set an infrastructure into which other buildings will fit. But as with all matrices, there is probably a desire to burst out of the grid… so in 2004 Norman Foster was commissioned to design a library that would combine 10 pre-existing libraries and assorted conference rooms. The result is a really stunning solution, which unfortunately we were not allowed to photograph! Except for the very few sneaky shots I was able to do… But it was great to see and if you want to see photos go to http://www.fu-berlin.de/sites/philbib/architektur/galerie1/index.html.
So, from the Free University, we trekked to the U-Bahn to make our way back to the centrum… the mitte… which was about 17 km away. We got to the station as the train was approaching and hopped on; no air conditioning (a big disappointment) but the service was good and efficient. We made three changes and made it back to the hotel in about 30 minutes. Somehow we never paid for the trip. When we entered the train there weren’t any fare booths, so we expected to be stopped as we exited (a la BART or the NYC subway).. but that never happened and we just got off the train, never seeing any pay booths or toll collectors. Thank you Berlin for a very nice free ride.
After about a 30 minute respite, we headed out again for dinner. We decided to head to a new hip area called NeuKolln which Mike’s niece, Julia (who had studied in Berlin for a year) recommended as an interesting and artsy area. She suggested a bar/restaurant where you lie on beds as you eat (and said to make a reservation and be sure to say you want the bed!). Instead we opted for a restaurant we read about called Sauvage — a “bio and paleo” eaterie! (bascially locavore). Anyway, it’s a bit of a distance from the Mitte and sparsely decorated. Food was really good; limited menu. No vegetable oil, no grains, no sugar. So boy do we feel healthy! We had a flounder dish and a vegetarian dish. Both were really good. And at the end, they gave us some complimentary schnapps!
OK.. the end to a very busy and tiring day. It’s now after midnight and we’re packing. We head to Czech Republic by train tomorrow (Berlin to Prague by train; drive to Brno where we will meet up with old friends. We had been planning to visit our very good friend Lallin who spent a year in Finland the same time we lived there. We’ve met the entire family many times during several trips back to Czehoslovakia and later Czech Republic. Lallin had a heart transplant in 2002 and we visited soon after. He had been doing very well, but recently things began to slip — one of the reasons we decided to visit this summer. Well, about two weeks before we left the US we were notified that he didn’t make it — 10 successful years, but eventually his body became immune to the anti rejection drugs and his liver gave out. We contemplated canceling this part of the trip to return early, but his family reached out and we decided it was important to celebrate Lallin’s life with them. Lallin was the head planner for the Bratislava Region. He and his family have a colorful history, with Lallin himself falling in and out of favor as the leadership of Czechoslovakia changed. He was demoted to a draftsman in 1970 and then after the Velvet Revolution was made head planner. He had written a report in the 60s about the environmental impact of Chernobyl which also got him into trouble. His parents, too, went through complicated times in the 60s and 70s.
So, we are off to Czech Republic in the morning…
Aufweidesein Berlin… Dobrý den, Česká republika
Fern
Bukhara. January 7/8, 2020
Greetings from icy cold Bukhara.
Got a bit of a late start and headed out to breakfast/lunch nearby … and then our plan was to head to Samanid Mausoleum and Bolohauz Mosque Complex. These two were a bit further out so the idea was to take a taxi to the furthest point and then walk our way back. I’m ok if I take it slow.
As we headed to find a restaurant, we ran into Feruzi and she said she was ready for me to come into the little shop (Mike says it’s even smaller than the measurements I gave yesterday) to have a fitting to be sure they cut the pattern correctly. So, we went into the shop and she noted some adjustments… and then we headed for lunch (no more breakfast); the vest and shirt jacket will be ready tomorrow. Amazing! They both look great and she matched the ikat patterns on the seams beautifully…
Many restaurants weren’t open yet as they start with dinner. But a restaurant on the main square looked good; we learned that the restaurant is called Lyabi Hauz.. and thus the restaurant connected to the Lyabi House Hotel is actually called Ayvan (??!) Anyway, it seemed we could eat either in the front room or the more inner room. While the outer room looked better, the inner one was warmer so we opted for that. All of the tables sat a minimum of 6 people so we were quite spacious. We ordered from the menu… I ordered a portion of yogurt and a plate of fruit and some green tea; Mike ordered three skewers of shish kebab – one chicken and two vegetable. Throughout our trip the skewers had four small pieces of meat on each and a similar amount of vegetables. When our order came, we nearly fainted…. I think if you sit at a table for six (that was the smallest table inside) your order is for six people. Thus when the fruit platter arrived it was quite beautiful, but had the equivalent (all sliced) of about six oranges, four different kinds of apples, three pears, grapes, four kiwis, and more. The yogurt was the equivalent of three containers of very fresh homemade yogurt (and came with thinly sliced huge radishes (Their radishes are green and are about three inches in diameter.) Then came the skewers. Each skewer was filled to the brim and each skewer was about 20” long. We did the best we could but there was no way to eat all of this food. In addition to all of this we had two pots of green tea and a very large bottle of sparkling water. The bill was $14.00. Then we went on our way to the mausoleum and the mosque which were truly exquisite and different from the others we’ve seen… and several hours later we strolled back to the hotel at about 5:00 pm.
Once again we took the walking route through the four trading domes (becoming a regular). Along the way, we stopped in a few shops including a forge that has been in the family for seven generations, where they make knives and scissors… and we checked out a little stand that sold old Soviet pins – many celebrating Lenin. People were very friendly and several times people with camera phones asked to take our picture. Some took selfies with us in them; others just wanted pictures of us. We are exotic here – or else a lot of people are part of the Uzbeki Secret Police. Mike made some little kid’s day when he agreed to purchase a refrigerator magnet with Uzbeki images that he was selling… and Mike also made an old man’s day when he purchased a Russian military hat/cap which he plans to wear when he walks round Lake Merritt… watch out.
One funny thing — a young boy who was selling goods (or watching his parent’s stall) was staring at my iPhone. Then I saw him make a very quick call on his phone to someone and in seconds another kid showed up who also was eying my phone.. and then I heard the second kid say to the first… “iPhone 11 Pro!”… so I guess one kid noticed it but wasn’t sure of the model, but the second kid was the local expert.
Since we plan to take a taxi to a village about 30 miles from here tomorrow, we spent some time packing and I also put in some work time (I’m committed to work about three hours each day on some projects (mainly our project in Maui).
At about 7:45 we strolled back to Ayvan (the restaurant at the Lyabi House that is not called Lyabi House Restaurant) where we had eaten on Sunday night. On our walk today, we ran into the waiter who remembered us and reminded us of our reservation. It was another extremely good meal – herring and potato starter followed by soup (Mike – pumpkin; Fern- chicken) followed by pasta Bolognese (really good) followed by a thick steak that we shared (we had to stress that we wanted it cooked rare, which is very unusual here and most meat is served well done. We had homemade local bread, a bottle of red wine, and a large bottle of sparkling water…. Our bill for the dinner was $28.00. Unreal.
We had a long talk with the waiter who is an engineering student at the technical university. He’s majoring in oil and gas engineering and will be graduating this spring and looking for a job. We got the history of the “house” that is now the restaurant. It was built 135 years ago for a wealthy merchant who lived there with his family. A little hard to understand what room was what but the main room (living / dining ??) had ceilings that were about 20’. The house was taken by the government during or after the Russian Revolution (or so I think, based on his explanation) and from then until just recently it was used as a hospital, a school named after Karl Marx, a child care center, a communal house for the military… a few years ago the government put it up for sale and a Tajik business man purchased it and turned it into this restaurant. We also learned that while the young waiter knew about global warming and alternative energy sources his program of study does not discuss this. Also, while he says it is a very good university, his curriculum is not accepted for graduate study at too many universities. Because Uzbekistan is not in the EU, its educational programs are considered inferior to European programs. His program is accredited in Uzbekistan, Russia, and all the Stans… He also explained his living situation in a dormitory which seemed not so different from dormitory living anywhere.
Another interesting thing to note is that it is not easy to get cash. The ATMs often don’t work and when they do the maximum they disperse is 500,000 Som… which sounds like a lot but is only $50. So you have this huge wad of cash (they mostly disseminate in 20,000 Som denominations. Even though things are inexpensive, the amounts we spend add up… Also, our credit cards are really only good for paying for the hotel and in “good” restaurants. Most hotels want to be paid in dollars, not som.
More tomorrow or the next day.
Best –
Fern
A New Year… Tashkent to Samarkand. 1/1/20
January 1, 2020
This morning we packed and headed to pick up our rental car. We took a taxi, and for a while it didn’t look too good. The driver was really lost, but eventually we made our way there. The car is an older model (maybe 10 years old?) Nissan Sentra, which fortunately has a very big trunk. We practically had to sign our life away to rent the car — lots of paperwork, some particular paper we need to show police if we get stopped, etc. When the guy took us out to the car he said… “Oh one thing, there is a crack on the windshield,” so he knows it’s not our fault. The crack goes all across the windshield from left to right… Anyway, we signed away and off we went. He repeated that we need to be sure to get petrol.. as opposed to gas (which is propane). We got familiar with the car and started the four-and-a-half-hour drive at around 1:30.
The drive from Tashkent to Samarkand was fairly boring — very flat – and at times we felt this must be what the end of the world will look like, especially because the heavy haze followed us the whole way. It’s not pollution; it really is just a heavy haze. Eventually we could see some mountains in the distance, and a little bit of agriculture. People line the roadside trying to hail a ride (an Uzbeki form of Uber?). No billboards, no real signs; even the signs for turn-offs just say “Termiz” or Exit… they don’t tell the name of the street or city.. Every 75 miles or so there are signs with destinations and number of kilometers left to go. The speed limits when you are approaching villages are posted and they make you go about 70 kph (40 mph) and slower as you really are driving through the town (50 kph/ 30 mph); people seem to take this seriously. Funny thing, when we asked at the hotel what the overall speed limit is when driving on the “highway” they said 90 kph (54 mph); we asked the same question at the rental car and they said 100 kph / 60 mph… Since there aren’t any signs telling you the speed limit for the non-village road, we’ve been trying to keep to under 100. Apparently there are many many cameras along the route and if you are speeding in a rental car a notice will go to the rental company and a fine will be added to our bill. The rental car company will know about the ticket within 24 hours after it is issued (electronically) and we will get a WhatsApp from the rental company. Oh, the roads are in pretty terrible shape, but definitely drivable.
We knew it was going to be a bit complicated to find the Bibkhanum Hotel because it is smack in the middle of the very oldest part of Samarkand and is practically at the front door of one of the largest mosques. We were doing fine with our GPS but we couldn’t figure out how to make this one left turn at the very end; we tried by making a u-turn and tried a third time, but somehow we couldn’t find the street. Then the GPS did a rerouting and we followed the new route which took us on dirt roads that were very very narrow with barely enough room for one car, let alone two cars (driving in opposite directions) to maneuver and no sidewalk – so the road or street was really just the space between the houses facing one another. On several occasions we needed to drive about one mile an hour to navigate with a car coming in the opposite direction… with people always coming out to yell how close we were or to maneuver differently. Unfortunately, we didn’t understand what they were saying. Mike was quite good at this, especially since it was dark by the time we were dealing with these streets. But then we sort of came to an end. We knew the little hotel was just a one minute walk, but we could go no further and there was no place to leave the car. We called the hotel and the guy seemed to know immediately where we were. He showed up and explained in limited English that we had come from the wrong side (that feisty left turn we couldn’t make!) So he said we needed to turn around and go back down and around and drive up the other side of the hill. There was really no way to just “turn around”… He said he could drive the car, but when he got inside he realized it was automatic transmission and said he only knows manual (??) So he called a friend “who is a very good driver with automatic”… He arrived and then many people emerged to also give directions to the guy.. and then we became passengers for five minutes or so as we re-navigated the route to emerge on the other side of the hotel and the hill.
Our car is now parked somewhere not too far from the hotel. I’ll describe the hotel tomorrow. We asked about dinner but he said the restaurant in the hotel was closed today for New Years, but he’d find a restaurant that would be open and we can walk to it. A few minutes later the front desk guy (the one who doesn’t drive automatic) knocked on our door to tell us that they called the “chef” and now the restaurant will be open. We went to the “restaurant” about 30 minutes later. Food was about a 3 on a scale of 1 to 10, but in a way it was the easiest thing to do.
Tomorrow we begin our exploration of Samarkand – one of the Silk Road cities.
Until then –
Fern
London Day Two 9/1/2018 Hetchless
September 1, Saturday
Another H-less day (or “hetch-less, as the Brits would say). Decided not to spend a lot of time dealing with this issue and losing time with Apple here in London. I made an appointment with the Emeryville Apple store for Wednesday evening (We arrive Wednesday mid-afternoon). I’m bracing for the worst – in that I will need to give up the computer for two or three days (ridiculous!). Fortunately I still have my previous MacBook Pro..
So we began Saturday with another Ottolenghi brunch. I stuck with the shaksuka; Mike ventured into their muesli which was filled with exotic seeds and fruits. Tried two other juices. And then he headed to meet Lara and Elliot to see several counsel housing projects (affordable housing, government-subsidized), and I did a bit of work and then headed to the Photographers Gallery near Oxford Circus. The tube was totally packed (like rush hour in NY). They had an exhibit of about 40 very large scale color photos and two multi-screen short films by Alex Prager – whose work cuts across art, fashion, photography, and film – with lots of melodrama within the subject matter. Maybe a cross between Dianne Arbus and Cindy Sherman? The focus of this show was “crowds” and if I understood the methodology, she stages the photos very carefully rather than using documentary approaches; still the imagery is very narrative.
From there, I walked a bit and then hopped on to the tube and got off at one or two random stops to see different neighborhoods. I decided to go west, since in my many trips to London I tend to focus central and east.. and maybe a little southeast. West London is generally spiffier and wealthier and traditionally East London was kind of gritty. But in the classic sense of current times, East London’s history and less wealthy past has given it a unique character, and of recent has become quite trendy. Sort of the Manhattan/Brooklyn phenomena or the San Francisco/Oakland scenario. So, East London now has so many great restaurants, chic hotels, and pricey housing it is indeed forcing out those who have lived in the area for decades. Anyway, I’m far more familiar with the Central area and the East side, than with the west.. although I have stayed a few times in the west.
Anyway, I thought I’d check out some West London swanky areas. Eventually, I walked all through Holland Park – a delightful mile or so stroll on a gorgeous day. The walk through the park terminates at the Design Museum (wasn’t my destination, but I decided to take a peak inside). The museum was originally located in an old banana warehouse on bank of the Thames. I had visited it about 10 years ago. The building had been converted beyond any recognition of its origins. It had a “Design Museum Tank” space as I recall. The new building is in the Kensington neighborhood.
It’s only about two years old, very contemporary and the space is largely open; with this new location, it is close to the V&A Museum, the Serpentine Gallery and other cultural institutions. From there I walked a bit on Kensington High all the way to Lancaster Gate and then circled back to Holland Park and walked back through the park (uphill) to the tube. Getting those daily miles in!
Returned to the hotel with just enough time to freshen up and head for a snack at the Green Room at the National Theater (a bit of a mess up because it turned out that our tickets were not for the National Theater, but rather for the Playhouse Theater which is about a 10 minute walk further) before heading to see “The Jungle” (with Lara and Elliot) – a truly powerful depiction of life in the now-bulldozed Calais migrant camp. The theater is transformed so that some audience members sit among the “migrants” and it is often difficult to determine who the actors are and where they are. Apparently the playwrights had previously performed some theatrical productions for the migrants in the camp. A portion of the tickets are given to migrants free of charge. The Jungle starts with an ending.
As the show begins, an eviction notice (one of many) has been served on the residents of the camp and there is a lot of commotion. The play documents the complex story of the migrants as they organize, resist, and attempt to escape the past as they all desire to reach the UK. The play is set inside the restaurant of one of the Afghani refuges within the camp. The three-hour play (didn’t feel that long at all!) was riveting and emotional and managed to unwrap the really complex story of the migrants, evictions, the lack of government intervention (except for police) – even by the left in France – and also of the do-gooder, “progressive” Brits from NGOs who come to help but whose value (and different view of what is needed) is quite questionable — even though their intentions were positive. The irony was the amazing “organizing” capacity of the refugees (without the help of the well-educated NGO leaders and the residents’ interestingly global perspective and capacity to bring equity to their diverse backgrounds.
After three hours, we headed to Soho House for a very late dinner (steak tartare, frites, and lamb chops; ended with crème brulee and pot au crème)… We waddled to our hotel at 2 am.
More tomorrow.
Fern
London Day Three – Still Hetchless 9/2/2018
September 2, 2018
Sunday
Decided to try another breakfast place so we went to Blixen. It was fine, but didn’t match Ottolenghi (so I guess we’ll do a last return visit to Ottolenghi tomorrow on our last day).
From there, Mike headed to look at some new housing near the Tate Modern and I headed to the hotel to get a few ours of work in. It was a totally gorgeous day, so I cut the work short and decided to walk to the Tate Modern (about 1.5 miles) and met up with Mike.
As we started to walk, we passed two guys set up at old manual Olivetti typewriters who will write poems on any topic and you pay wat you think it is worth. I decided to go for it, so asked for a poem about the “current political situation” — Here’s his take:
“East meets west in a wig…dictation rides bareback into the sunset of outer space….twittering tabloids take turns to rock lobsters, rig elections……clown vs clown in city skies…left is right is obsolete…..all as it ever was, perverse prayer begs alas to oblivion….elephants watch donkeys…daggers drawn”
We then walked to Borough Market but forgot it is closed on Sundays. So we had some wonderful gelato and then took the tube to an area known as Little Venice – not too far from Regents Park. It’s where three canals converge. It’s quite picturesque with houseboats and some cafes. We strolled along the canal and then in the nearby neighborhood which had some beautiful houses and flats – built at a time when the development of neighborhoods were intended to build community and gel with the environs.
We then walked to the Underground to catch a train to the hotel – and as we got down the stairs we were met by an attendant explaining the train service on that line had been “suspended” and they didn’t know when it would resume. By now I had put in well over my 6-mile walking goal and decided a taxi was in order. But finding one was another story. We eventually found a small hotel — The Colonnade – and they called for a taxi.
By that time it was close to eating time (again)… We decided to try Dishoon in Shoreditch. Walked (adding to those miles!) Although we had to wait about an hour (no reservations), it was worth it – wonderful and interesting Indian street food in what they describe as an Irani café-style interior. We started with some drinks – Mike had the Chandra Bose Sour and I had the Monsoon Martini.
For nibblers we had lamb samosas and “bheja” – little pieces of lamb brains coated with some kind of cornmeal (I think) and fried like popcorn, with a tamarind style dipping sauce. Then we had murgh malai – dark meat chicken that was marinated in garlic, ginger, coriander, and more… ; wonderful spicy lamb chops; raita; garlic naan; black daal… and wine. Naturally we needed a dessert before we could walk the distance back to the hotel – so we ordered the chocolate pudding, which was melted in the middle and accompanied by a scoop of chili ice cream. We were well fortified for the walk to the hotel. One more day tomorrow and then we are back.
Happy Labor Day..
Fern
Fern's Travel Notes 