While my travels in Asia have been going on for over a month now, this is my first full blog entry. I ask myself why it’s taken me so long to get the thoughts, impressions and incredible stories I’ve been lucky enough to experience down in some written format, and my best response is “It’s better late than never.” In that spirit, here’s where the spirit has placed me in this moment.
I’m sitting on the North Side of Ko Samui, an island off the coast of Thailand, at a beachside bungalow. I arrived here with my friend Gift after a full day of traveling which was not without its own adventures.
We started the day in Trang, Thailand, where we had been for a few days, being treated to the most amazing hospitality I’ve ever experienced by the parents of my friend Gibb. They deserve their own blog entry for all of the amazing stuff they did for us, but for now, let’s continue. So Gift and I boarded a bus in Trang to head north 3 hours. While waiting for the bus, a man walked up with a chicken, holding it in his arms as if it was his prize-winner (it turns out it was!!). When we began to board the bus, the man and his chicken joined us. I can check “Riding on a Bus with a Chicken” off on my list of life goals. Surprisingly, the chicken was very well behaved on the journey, and the only way I remembered he was a passenger was the by the occasional “Gobble, gobble,” that was too authentic to be smart-ass Thai making jokes.
The ride consisted of Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Love in the Time of Cholera. I’m such a sucker for Marquez, but does prose get any more beautiful? I mean how could one quietly slip the quote, “He was still too young to know that the heart’s memory eliminates the bad and magnifies the good, and that thanks to this artifice we manage to endure the burden of the past,” appropriately into his writing without sounding pretentious? Only Marquez.
The book has had a big impact on me not so much for the story itself, but for the descriptions of the characters in this love story. Marquez is a genius for picking out the nuances of his characters that make them distinct, but that every one of us can find in the ones close to us. I read somewhere that Marquez considered himself to be more of a journalist than a writer, and from his sensitivity in describing people, places and, most heart-wrenchingly, love, its evident that his journalistic inclinations were just as honed as his gift for storytelling.
That being said, I’ve started to record information about folks I briefly meet on the road, hoping to record what I learn about them with as exactly and as revelatory as Marquez . . . we’ll see how that goes.
Ok, here’s one for you:
One the ride on the bus, Gift and I shared a seat with a man named Bao we’d met in Trang. Bao was in his mid to late 20’s, and with his ironed white shirts and designer shoes, you could tell he was off to either make impression or to maintain one. While Bao spoke no English (and my Thai won’t let me talk with anyone), you could see his kindness in some of the most beautiful brown eyes that ever graced a two-legged creature. He had an easiness to him that could make him forgettable, but behind his quiet voice there was a firmness to his words that forced you to take him seriously. He carried with him only a camera bag, meaning that he had clothes in the place he was going, and I later found out the purpose of his trip was to visit his girlfriend. They are to wed in August.
After leaving the first bus, another bus was in store, no chicken this time, that led to a ferry. The ferry ride took us to Ko Samui and offered up some beautiful scenery on the open sea.
Ko Samui was not what I expected at all, and I think the whiteys (or farang as the Thai call them) have overrun the small island. I wrote in an email to my brother that the island was like the Myrtle Beach of Thailand, and while this may have been a little of an overstatement, but yes, there is a Starbucks and a McDonald’s on this island (along with over 100 7 Eleven’s)!
Gift and I were exhausted from the traveling, so after a stroll on the beach, it was time to settle down for the night.
I’m looking forward to seeing more of Samui and getting to the good stuff the island has to offer in the morning.
This seems like a good time to end, so until next time, sawadee krab.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
For an old love
You haunt me
When I am on the way to work
Umbrella in hand
Brad Mehldau underscoring my consciousness
You haunt me
When I am in the arms
Of the girl I've wanted for months
But whose love wasn't real
You haunt me
On long car rides
As the meditative white lines
Bring my unconsciousness to the forefront
You haunt me
When I think about my future
Even though you told me not to
I know you're doing the same
You haunt me
While in the back of a theater
I think I see you with him
My entertainment turned to rage
You haunt me
As I stared out into the ocean
Hoping your eyes were fixed
In the same place
You haunt me
While in the train
Unconsciously scanning the faces
Of the strangers I call passengers
You haunt me
As I think about music
And the songs we shared
We are both lonely painters
You haunt me
As I think about having a partner
Who will push me
To be the best I can be
You haunt me
As I know
You will love me
Whoever or whatever I am
When I am on the way to work
Umbrella in hand
Brad Mehldau underscoring my consciousness
You haunt me
When I am in the arms
Of the girl I've wanted for months
But whose love wasn't real
You haunt me
On long car rides
As the meditative white lines
Bring my unconsciousness to the forefront
You haunt me
When I think about my future
Even though you told me not to
I know you're doing the same
You haunt me
While in the back of a theater
I think I see you with him
My entertainment turned to rage
You haunt me
As I stared out into the ocean
Hoping your eyes were fixed
In the same place
You haunt me
While in the train
Unconsciously scanning the faces
Of the strangers I call passengers
You haunt me
As I think about music
And the songs we shared
We are both lonely painters
You haunt me
As I think about having a partner
Who will push me
To be the best I can be
You haunt me
As I know
You will love me
Whoever or whatever I am
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Day 45 and 46 – Yellowstone National Park
From Portland, Daniel and I headed to Seattle where we stayed with the Heffernan’s, whose son, Joe, was in boarding school with Daniel. We had another amazing time with their family, meditating with Charlie (father), sharing stories and learning a little Arabic with Robbie (mother) and learning about Indian music and having a blast with Amanda (sister). Amazing folks and we are so grateful for their cooking, hospitality, and friendship which were fuel to keep on truckin’.
In the summer of 2007, I lived in Mendoza, Argentina with the Simpsons, an American family who had set up a program to teach kids to record music in Argentina. The Simpsons are now living in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho and it was to their home we traveled after Seattle. Man, what a reunion. We arrived around 5 pm, and Daniel and I stayed up talking with Rich, Wendy, Matt and Andy (who arrived a little later) until almost midnight. It was so nice to catch up on all the folks in Mendoza, and all the stories I had missed in the interim 2 years. This was one of the personal highlights of the trip for me. We celebrated Wendy’s birthday with a lake side BBQ and even caught new Harry Potter movie at a local theater (highly recommended!).
After a bittersweet departure from Coeur d’Alene, Daniel and I set out for Yellowstone.
Day 45 and 46 – Yellowstone National Park
Spending the majority of the day in the car traveling, Daniel and I were both tired when we arrived in Yellowstone. After seeing that all the campgrounds within the park were full, we begrudgingly turned the car around and headed 16 miles outside the park to find a place to pitch our tent. After finding a suitable, but unusually uncomfortable campground, we settled down for the evening. I spent the night (and most of the day’s car ride) reading Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. Before leaving for the trip I received some travel recommendations from my old boss, Atesh Sonneborn. Atesh lived in various parts of California for years and he suggested visiting the Self Realization Fellowship in Pacific Palisades, CA where some of Ghandi’s ashes were kept. He also mentioned that the Fellowship was founded by Yogananda, but at the time I had no idea who this was. Then, upon arriving in DC to hang out before the trip, Daniel brought a book (Autobiography of a Yogi) with him and was telling me all about the wonderful, childlike, and amazing life of Yogananda. After listening to Daniel and visiting the Self Realization Fellowship for myself, I decided to pick up the book. It has been a wonderful companion on the journey and has really inspired me to renew and pursue my own relationship with God. Yogananda’s playful, ever seeking prose has made me realize that a spiritual journey does not have to be one of stoic practice and solitude, but rather a revealing search that can be fun, communal, and divinely rewarding. He does not leave out the difficulties of his stories, but the lessons learned and wisdom gained from these trials make the search all the more appealing. Thank you Atesh and Daniel.
After waking up to the coldest morning of the trip so far, Daniel and I got two cups of coffee, bread and some firewood, heading into the park to find what treasures lie within its boundaries.
The smell of Yellowstone is undeniable. Known for its geysers, the Park has omnipresent odor of deviled eggs. The mixture of sulphuric gas, water and heat leads to amazing sights (bubbling lakes and geysers), but was a constant of reminder of kindergarden (where deviled eggs were served as afternoon snacks). Aside from this little nuance, the geysers and hot springs in the Park were absolutely beautiful. Daniel and I were lucky enough to see a good many of them, also catching Old Faithful blow her load in front a huge, anxious crowd of tourists. It was really amazing to see this large hole in the ground one second, then a 50 feet tall blast of water emanating from its insides. What a funny planet we live on.
In the afternoon, Daniel and I took a long hike on the Elephant Bear Trail near Lake Yellowstone. The 3.5 mile hike was a needed exercise, and led to some amazing views at the summit. The hike was a little surprising because of the massive amounts of dead trees in Yellowstone, leading Daniel and I to question what had been happening to make all of this destruction take place. After grabbing some beer and a little ice cream, we made our way back to our campground.
One of the other amazing features about Yellowstone is the huge number of wildlife that are visible by simply driving through the park. Bison are very abundant throughout the Park and there were no shortage of them on our drives from location to location throughout Yellowstone. Such interesting creatures, these Bison are. Short legs, hairy in the front, not in the back, small eyes, hunched posture, and a massive body. I wonder if they think we are funny looking too. In addition to the bison, the Park is full of giant deer, wild birds and coyotes. Whenever any of these animals are visible from the road, a bottleneck of cars form, with each tourist grabbing as many photos of the unassuming animals they can, before they start to feel conscious of the line of traffic behind them. We learned this happens often in the Park, and not to freak out when a random line of traffic begins to form.
After gathering wood for the fire, and having some trusty soup for dinner, Daniel and I got the fire started and got out the guitars. After learning a song from Wilco’s new album, we tried to play the song together. While we have played music together for a long time, it has always been difficult. I come from the school where I am very accustomed to playing with other people, and very seldom play by myself. Daniel, on the other hand, plays by himself the majority of the time. With both of us expecting different things of the other and our personality differences as evident as our dirty clothes, we began to argue about how the music should be played. After telling Daniel that he was “so hard to play with,” he got up and left the fire. This was not the first and definitely not the last argument of the trip, but the difference with this one was that it involved music, something we both care deeply about, but look at from completely different perspectives. Looking back on the argument, I believe there was a lot of big brother/little brother anxiety wrapped up in the disagreement, hitting even closer to home. I guess there are some things that we are just not supposed to see eye to eye on.
With the funds running low and our time on the road growing short, we are in for some long travel days ahead. As I am writing this entry, Daniel and I have been on the road for 6 hours with another 2 ahead of us before our destination. Traveling to the Badlands National Park (which turned out to us staying at the Lakota Indian Reservation) yesterday, we clocked almost 11 hours in the car. These long hours are taking a little bit of a toll on our tempers (which may have been a big contributing factor to the earlier tussle), but with a new injection of music (thanks Oliver, Amanda, and the Heffernans!) hopefully the drives will be a little better.
Approaching Bloomington, Indiana as our next main destination Saturday-ish and more from the road soon. Thanks for reading.
In the summer of 2007, I lived in Mendoza, Argentina with the Simpsons, an American family who had set up a program to teach kids to record music in Argentina. The Simpsons are now living in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho and it was to their home we traveled after Seattle. Man, what a reunion. We arrived around 5 pm, and Daniel and I stayed up talking with Rich, Wendy, Matt and Andy (who arrived a little later) until almost midnight. It was so nice to catch up on all the folks in Mendoza, and all the stories I had missed in the interim 2 years. This was one of the personal highlights of the trip for me. We celebrated Wendy’s birthday with a lake side BBQ and even caught new Harry Potter movie at a local theater (highly recommended!).
After a bittersweet departure from Coeur d’Alene, Daniel and I set out for Yellowstone.
Day 45 and 46 – Yellowstone National Park
Spending the majority of the day in the car traveling, Daniel and I were both tired when we arrived in Yellowstone. After seeing that all the campgrounds within the park were full, we begrudgingly turned the car around and headed 16 miles outside the park to find a place to pitch our tent. After finding a suitable, but unusually uncomfortable campground, we settled down for the evening. I spent the night (and most of the day’s car ride) reading Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. Before leaving for the trip I received some travel recommendations from my old boss, Atesh Sonneborn. Atesh lived in various parts of California for years and he suggested visiting the Self Realization Fellowship in Pacific Palisades, CA where some of Ghandi’s ashes were kept. He also mentioned that the Fellowship was founded by Yogananda, but at the time I had no idea who this was. Then, upon arriving in DC to hang out before the trip, Daniel brought a book (Autobiography of a Yogi) with him and was telling me all about the wonderful, childlike, and amazing life of Yogananda. After listening to Daniel and visiting the Self Realization Fellowship for myself, I decided to pick up the book. It has been a wonderful companion on the journey and has really inspired me to renew and pursue my own relationship with God. Yogananda’s playful, ever seeking prose has made me realize that a spiritual journey does not have to be one of stoic practice and solitude, but rather a revealing search that can be fun, communal, and divinely rewarding. He does not leave out the difficulties of his stories, but the lessons learned and wisdom gained from these trials make the search all the more appealing. Thank you Atesh and Daniel.
After waking up to the coldest morning of the trip so far, Daniel and I got two cups of coffee, bread and some firewood, heading into the park to find what treasures lie within its boundaries.
The smell of Yellowstone is undeniable. Known for its geysers, the Park has omnipresent odor of deviled eggs. The mixture of sulphuric gas, water and heat leads to amazing sights (bubbling lakes and geysers), but was a constant of reminder of kindergarden (where deviled eggs were served as afternoon snacks). Aside from this little nuance, the geysers and hot springs in the Park were absolutely beautiful. Daniel and I were lucky enough to see a good many of them, also catching Old Faithful blow her load in front a huge, anxious crowd of tourists. It was really amazing to see this large hole in the ground one second, then a 50 feet tall blast of water emanating from its insides. What a funny planet we live on.
In the afternoon, Daniel and I took a long hike on the Elephant Bear Trail near Lake Yellowstone. The 3.5 mile hike was a needed exercise, and led to some amazing views at the summit. The hike was a little surprising because of the massive amounts of dead trees in Yellowstone, leading Daniel and I to question what had been happening to make all of this destruction take place. After grabbing some beer and a little ice cream, we made our way back to our campground.
One of the other amazing features about Yellowstone is the huge number of wildlife that are visible by simply driving through the park. Bison are very abundant throughout the Park and there were no shortage of them on our drives from location to location throughout Yellowstone. Such interesting creatures, these Bison are. Short legs, hairy in the front, not in the back, small eyes, hunched posture, and a massive body. I wonder if they think we are funny looking too. In addition to the bison, the Park is full of giant deer, wild birds and coyotes. Whenever any of these animals are visible from the road, a bottleneck of cars form, with each tourist grabbing as many photos of the unassuming animals they can, before they start to feel conscious of the line of traffic behind them. We learned this happens often in the Park, and not to freak out when a random line of traffic begins to form.
After gathering wood for the fire, and having some trusty soup for dinner, Daniel and I got the fire started and got out the guitars. After learning a song from Wilco’s new album, we tried to play the song together. While we have played music together for a long time, it has always been difficult. I come from the school where I am very accustomed to playing with other people, and very seldom play by myself. Daniel, on the other hand, plays by himself the majority of the time. With both of us expecting different things of the other and our personality differences as evident as our dirty clothes, we began to argue about how the music should be played. After telling Daniel that he was “so hard to play with,” he got up and left the fire. This was not the first and definitely not the last argument of the trip, but the difference with this one was that it involved music, something we both care deeply about, but look at from completely different perspectives. Looking back on the argument, I believe there was a lot of big brother/little brother anxiety wrapped up in the disagreement, hitting even closer to home. I guess there are some things that we are just not supposed to see eye to eye on.
With the funds running low and our time on the road growing short, we are in for some long travel days ahead. As I am writing this entry, Daniel and I have been on the road for 6 hours with another 2 ahead of us before our destination. Traveling to the Badlands National Park (which turned out to us staying at the Lakota Indian Reservation) yesterday, we clocked almost 11 hours in the car. These long hours are taking a little bit of a toll on our tempers (which may have been a big contributing factor to the earlier tussle), but with a new injection of music (thanks Oliver, Amanda, and the Heffernans!) hopefully the drives will be a little better.
Approaching Bloomington, Indiana as our next main destination Saturday-ish and more from the road soon. Thanks for reading.
Day 40 and 41 – Portland, Oregon
Interstate 5 has been a companion on this leg of the journey and from within its white lines I start this entry. Daniel and I are on the road to Seattle and Mount St. Helens is staring at us as we look out of the right side of the CR-V (our other constant companion of our voyage). There are so many stories to be told since my last entry and I will probably have to share the majority of them individually with friends, family and fellow travelers as time passes on, but there is a beauty in sharing these undocumented experiences, letting time polish their individuality from the journey itself. I hope I’ll get to share some of them with you.
Day 40 and 41 – Portland, Oregon
Portland has always held a particular place in my psyche, one consisting of lots of young, hip kids in plaid shirts and think glasses, local brews offered at every hole in the wall, and a particular smugness exhibited by those living within its proper. All of these impressions were established when I was 3,000 miles away! Pulling into Portland, some of these expectations were met, some were debunked, but actually experiencing “Stump Town” firsthand was more satisfying than any IPA could be.
Two days before arriving into Portland, we had stayed with a woman named Megan in Medford, Oregon. We were Megan’s first couch surfers and we could tell by her nervous acceptance of our request that she was a little uncomfortable at the proposal of 2 young (and probably smelly) strangers taking shelter in her abode. However, after a long talk about India, the South, sharing some wine and cooking dinner with her, it was like we were old buddies (or cousins as we would soon become to be known). We told Megan we were heading to Portland and she graciously called her brother, David, and asked him if we could pitch our tent in his yard while we were in town. We did not hear his response before we left, so pulling into Portland a few days later, we cold-called David to see if he (and his family) might mind us crashing with them. It took them a little while to get back to us, so in the meantime, we investigated the city.
We were told by two girls we camped with to check out 21st and 23rd streets off of Burnside for places to eat, drink and take in the scene, so this is where we first headed. This was a cool area of the city and we caught an awesome street drummer (playing on buckets and pan lids) on 23rd! We also think we ran into Jim Gaffigan, the comedian, after his son he told us his 18 month old could skateboard. We still can’t figure out if it was him or not, but check the photos to see for yourself!
After a trip to the local Goodwill, we received the call from David we had a place to stay for the night. After checking out Hawthorne St. (another awesome area of Portland), we headed to Oregon City to meet the Annand’s.
An introduction of the family is necessary. David, the father of the household, is the brother of Megan (who we couchsurfed with in Medford, OR). Lisa is the mother of the house, and the two of them have two daughters, Chloe (14) and Emma (9). Oh, and I can’t forget Sammy, the brownish red dog who asked for love like people ask, “How are you?”
This family is amazing. The openness they exuded to Daniel and I was inspiring. There were instruments (guitars, ukuleles, pianos, marimbas, and harmonicas) all over the house, books scattered everywhere, the girls were both in a bi-lingual school studying Spanish, and the communication between the members of the family was really amazing to see. The children knew all about their parents’ work and the parents were familiar with most aspects of the children’s lives in a very organic way. We spent the night telling the family about our travels and getting to know each of them.
The next morning, while Chloe was sleeping, Daniel, Emma and I had an impromptu jam session on marimba, piano and harmonium over “No Woman, No Cry,” after finishing some of Lisa’s delicious pancakes. We then recorded a song together on Emma’s keyboard and had a blast doing it. We loved Emma’s openness to play with us and her enthusiasm for the music was contagious. Big kudos to her and her folks for giving her that exposure. After Chloe woke up, we heard her play piano and were very impressed as well.
Lisa and Emma then took us around downtown Oregon City to the end of the Oregon Trail (!!) and to their local Library to get a free pass to the Japanese Gardens in Portland! So cool this is offered by the library. Daniel and I then headed into the city to check out some of the sights. The Portland Japanese Garden was one of the coolest things we’ve done on the trip. This was a part of Portland’s Washington Park and seeing an authentic Japanese Garden was a photographer’s dream. The colors were subdued, yet vibrant, and the organization of the Gardens were designed with the precision of a surgeon’s hand. From there we headed back to Hawthorne St. to Powell’s Books and oh man, what a bookstore. Daniel went in before I did and would not let me browse around the store for fear of me being there all day. I could have stayed a week. It’s a must in Portland.
After talking to some locals in a community garden and hanging out in a park near Hawthorne, Daniel and I decided to get a burrito a Cha Cha Cha. We were enjoying our burrito, and I am not lying, none other than Dave Chappell walks by us on the sidewalk. Daniel and I both did doubletakes and looked at each other with the expression, “Was that who I think it was?” Sure enough, Dave was with his wife and had a entourage of fans following him down the street. He looked really healthy and muscular, which was amazing to see after his tough times following his TV show.
A quiet night of Indian food, meeting the Annand’s grandparents, aiding in Emma’s anticipation of seeing the new Harry Potter movie at midnight (!), and sharing stories with David and Lisa ended a great time with a wonderful family. I feel blessed to have gotten to learn, share and spend time with them. I hope I can adopt some of their family practices if I am blessed with a family of my own one day. Daniel and I both agreed that staying with a family was a rejuvenating and got us ready for the next leg of the journey.
Day 40 and 41 – Portland, Oregon
Portland has always held a particular place in my psyche, one consisting of lots of young, hip kids in plaid shirts and think glasses, local brews offered at every hole in the wall, and a particular smugness exhibited by those living within its proper. All of these impressions were established when I was 3,000 miles away! Pulling into Portland, some of these expectations were met, some were debunked, but actually experiencing “Stump Town” firsthand was more satisfying than any IPA could be.
Two days before arriving into Portland, we had stayed with a woman named Megan in Medford, Oregon. We were Megan’s first couch surfers and we could tell by her nervous acceptance of our request that she was a little uncomfortable at the proposal of 2 young (and probably smelly) strangers taking shelter in her abode. However, after a long talk about India, the South, sharing some wine and cooking dinner with her, it was like we were old buddies (or cousins as we would soon become to be known). We told Megan we were heading to Portland and she graciously called her brother, David, and asked him if we could pitch our tent in his yard while we were in town. We did not hear his response before we left, so pulling into Portland a few days later, we cold-called David to see if he (and his family) might mind us crashing with them. It took them a little while to get back to us, so in the meantime, we investigated the city.
We were told by two girls we camped with to check out 21st and 23rd streets off of Burnside for places to eat, drink and take in the scene, so this is where we first headed. This was a cool area of the city and we caught an awesome street drummer (playing on buckets and pan lids) on 23rd! We also think we ran into Jim Gaffigan, the comedian, after his son he told us his 18 month old could skateboard. We still can’t figure out if it was him or not, but check the photos to see for yourself!
After a trip to the local Goodwill, we received the call from David we had a place to stay for the night. After checking out Hawthorne St. (another awesome area of Portland), we headed to Oregon City to meet the Annand’s.
An introduction of the family is necessary. David, the father of the household, is the brother of Megan (who we couchsurfed with in Medford, OR). Lisa is the mother of the house, and the two of them have two daughters, Chloe (14) and Emma (9). Oh, and I can’t forget Sammy, the brownish red dog who asked for love like people ask, “How are you?”
This family is amazing. The openness they exuded to Daniel and I was inspiring. There were instruments (guitars, ukuleles, pianos, marimbas, and harmonicas) all over the house, books scattered everywhere, the girls were both in a bi-lingual school studying Spanish, and the communication between the members of the family was really amazing to see. The children knew all about their parents’ work and the parents were familiar with most aspects of the children’s lives in a very organic way. We spent the night telling the family about our travels and getting to know each of them.
The next morning, while Chloe was sleeping, Daniel, Emma and I had an impromptu jam session on marimba, piano and harmonium over “No Woman, No Cry,” after finishing some of Lisa’s delicious pancakes. We then recorded a song together on Emma’s keyboard and had a blast doing it. We loved Emma’s openness to play with us and her enthusiasm for the music was contagious. Big kudos to her and her folks for giving her that exposure. After Chloe woke up, we heard her play piano and were very impressed as well.
Lisa and Emma then took us around downtown Oregon City to the end of the Oregon Trail (!!) and to their local Library to get a free pass to the Japanese Gardens in Portland! So cool this is offered by the library. Daniel and I then headed into the city to check out some of the sights. The Portland Japanese Garden was one of the coolest things we’ve done on the trip. This was a part of Portland’s Washington Park and seeing an authentic Japanese Garden was a photographer’s dream. The colors were subdued, yet vibrant, and the organization of the Gardens were designed with the precision of a surgeon’s hand. From there we headed back to Hawthorne St. to Powell’s Books and oh man, what a bookstore. Daniel went in before I did and would not let me browse around the store for fear of me being there all day. I could have stayed a week. It’s a must in Portland.
After talking to some locals in a community garden and hanging out in a park near Hawthorne, Daniel and I decided to get a burrito a Cha Cha Cha. We were enjoying our burrito, and I am not lying, none other than Dave Chappell walks by us on the sidewalk. Daniel and I both did doubletakes and looked at each other with the expression, “Was that who I think it was?” Sure enough, Dave was with his wife and had a entourage of fans following him down the street. He looked really healthy and muscular, which was amazing to see after his tough times following his TV show.
A quiet night of Indian food, meeting the Annand’s grandparents, aiding in Emma’s anticipation of seeing the new Harry Potter movie at midnight (!), and sharing stories with David and Lisa ended a great time with a wonderful family. I feel blessed to have gotten to learn, share and spend time with them. I hope I can adopt some of their family practices if I am blessed with a family of my own one day. Daniel and I both agreed that staying with a family was a rejuvenating and got us ready for the next leg of the journey.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Comfort of Strangers
After buying a harmonium at the Ali Akbar Khan School of Music, seeing some old friends from the Smithsonian, camping at Yosemite and coming back to Alameda for the evening, Daniel and I are back on the road, heading north. Our destination- the Redwood Forests of Northern California. While as of this writing, we do not have a place to sleep for the evening, we have faith that we will find a comfortable place either inside or outside to rest our heads. While this mindset of “going with the flow” and “being in the moment” is a little unnerving, it has led to exhibitions of generosity, hospitality and kindness by strangers, offered (and accepted!!) to Daniel and I. I wanted to dedicate this blog to those on the road who have offered us a meal, a place to sleep, or the combination of them both, and share a story of one instance of particular generosity.
Erin in Santa Barbara –
Leaving southern Los Angeles, we encountered the worst bout of traffic I’ve experienced in my life. What seemed like an eternity was, in actuality, 2 and a half hours in traffic, going a maximum of 15 mph the whole time up the 405. While this may be commonplace for Los Angelinos, it threw our “schedule” of making it halfway to San Francisco completely out of whack.
After finally getting through the traffic and filling up with gas, which took another 30 minutes, we were back on the road. But seeing as we had just lost 3 hours on our journey, the reality set in that we were not going to make it halfway to San Francisco that evening.
Upon pondering alternatives, we agreed to stop in Santa Barbara for the night and see what would happen. We set the GPS to head toward downtown Santa Barbara and threw our fate to the wind with the kind of anticipation only matched by a betting on your best hand in a game of poker. Upon arriving in downtown, Daniel and I began to argue a about what we would do in Santa Barbara. Daniel was tired of driving and just wanted to go have some fun, while I was concerned with finding someplace to lay our heads. After some bickering about “letting” things happen and “making” things happen, we split up to investigate Santa Barbara in our own ways. Off Daniel went on his skateboard and with the help of my iPod (thanks Janet!) and the free internet I stole from an apartment complex, I started to look for places to stay. The local hostel was booked and because it was the July 4th weekend, all the hotels were extremely overpriced, making that option an impossibility.
Scratching my head for an alternative, I went to investigate some local parks to see where we might find a spot to camp in the city for the evening. This gave me a chance to see Santa Barbara, and man, it was a beautiful city. The architecture reminded me of something in my past (past-life?) and I felt an immediate connection with my surroundings as the slight panic of not having a place to sleep left me.
Upon leaving one of the parks, I saw a girl walking her dog in an unfamiliar fashion. The dog was completely free, walking with the girl without a leash, only guided by her commands and his choice to obey them. Intrigued, I asked the girl about the dog and commented that she must have trained him well! She relayed that yes, she was very close with her dog and they walked together everyday, sometimes three times a day! I was introduced to her (Erin) and her dog (Oliver), as we continued our conversation about Santa Barbara, our travels, her travels, her home in Vermont, going to Bonnaroo, and the difference between the east and west coast in the US. The conversation led to her front porch where we continued the talk and played with Oliver.
I told her about our situation not having a place to stay in Santa Barbara and she sympathized, but said that out of courtesy to her roommate, she couldn’t give us a place to stay. I understood and we continued our talk. Upon getting a call from Daniel to meet up, I bid adieu to Erin and her faithful Oliver and thanked her for the talk.
Walking back to meet Daniel, the panic of not having a place to sleep set back in. It looked like it was going to be a night in the car or on the beach, avoiding the sight of the police. But, a thought hit me on the walk; if we can’t sleep at Erin’s house, could we set up our tent outside in her yard? Upon meeting Daniel we headed back to Erin’s to pop the question. Taking into consideration that I had just met this girl 20 minutes ago, that she had never met Daniel and that 2 guys were asking 1 girl if we could stay with her, I was a bit nervous about our proposal.
We arrived at Erin’s and knocked on the door. A part of me hoped she had already gone to bed and would not answer the door, but as she appeared on the other side of the door, I introduced her to Daniel and popped the question, most likely in a fashion akin to asking a girl out for a first date.
From her face, I think Erin was a little shocked and surprised that we even asked, but upon surveying our situation, not only offered us the yard, but also said she would give us her couch to sleep on!! We gladly accepted and came inside to get know her better and for some added playtime with Oliver.
Erin shared her kitchen with us, stories of growing up in Vermont, encounters with the police in Oklahoma (which were hilarious) and other stories of the road that we could identify with. I suppose it was these travels and the closeness of the road to her heart that compelled her to take in two smelly strangers like Daniel and I.
In a matter of minutes, we had gone from no place to stay and not knowing a soul in Santa Barbara, to having a place to rest for the evening and making friends with bartender, traveler, and this all around cool girl, Erin. Displays of compassion and hospitality like Erin showed to us, even in my most cynical states, will remind me of the good each inhabitant of this world possesses.
There have been countless cases of folks showing us hospitality on this trip, from Terry in Oakland, to Ashley in Durango, to dinner with Tye in Denver and to Adele in Albuquerque. We will keep their kindness in mind as we meet other travelers to whom we might be able to pay it forward. Maybe you can find someone in need today to pass this compassion onto. It comes full circle!
Looking out my window at the vineyards as we head to Northern California . . .
Erin in Santa Barbara –
Leaving southern Los Angeles, we encountered the worst bout of traffic I’ve experienced in my life. What seemed like an eternity was, in actuality, 2 and a half hours in traffic, going a maximum of 15 mph the whole time up the 405. While this may be commonplace for Los Angelinos, it threw our “schedule” of making it halfway to San Francisco completely out of whack.
After finally getting through the traffic and filling up with gas, which took another 30 minutes, we were back on the road. But seeing as we had just lost 3 hours on our journey, the reality set in that we were not going to make it halfway to San Francisco that evening.
Upon pondering alternatives, we agreed to stop in Santa Barbara for the night and see what would happen. We set the GPS to head toward downtown Santa Barbara and threw our fate to the wind with the kind of anticipation only matched by a betting on your best hand in a game of poker. Upon arriving in downtown, Daniel and I began to argue a about what we would do in Santa Barbara. Daniel was tired of driving and just wanted to go have some fun, while I was concerned with finding someplace to lay our heads. After some bickering about “letting” things happen and “making” things happen, we split up to investigate Santa Barbara in our own ways. Off Daniel went on his skateboard and with the help of my iPod (thanks Janet!) and the free internet I stole from an apartment complex, I started to look for places to stay. The local hostel was booked and because it was the July 4th weekend, all the hotels were extremely overpriced, making that option an impossibility.
Scratching my head for an alternative, I went to investigate some local parks to see where we might find a spot to camp in the city for the evening. This gave me a chance to see Santa Barbara, and man, it was a beautiful city. The architecture reminded me of something in my past (past-life?) and I felt an immediate connection with my surroundings as the slight panic of not having a place to sleep left me.
Upon leaving one of the parks, I saw a girl walking her dog in an unfamiliar fashion. The dog was completely free, walking with the girl without a leash, only guided by her commands and his choice to obey them. Intrigued, I asked the girl about the dog and commented that she must have trained him well! She relayed that yes, she was very close with her dog and they walked together everyday, sometimes three times a day! I was introduced to her (Erin) and her dog (Oliver), as we continued our conversation about Santa Barbara, our travels, her travels, her home in Vermont, going to Bonnaroo, and the difference between the east and west coast in the US. The conversation led to her front porch where we continued the talk and played with Oliver.
I told her about our situation not having a place to stay in Santa Barbara and she sympathized, but said that out of courtesy to her roommate, she couldn’t give us a place to stay. I understood and we continued our talk. Upon getting a call from Daniel to meet up, I bid adieu to Erin and her faithful Oliver and thanked her for the talk.
Walking back to meet Daniel, the panic of not having a place to sleep set back in. It looked like it was going to be a night in the car or on the beach, avoiding the sight of the police. But, a thought hit me on the walk; if we can’t sleep at Erin’s house, could we set up our tent outside in her yard? Upon meeting Daniel we headed back to Erin’s to pop the question. Taking into consideration that I had just met this girl 20 minutes ago, that she had never met Daniel and that 2 guys were asking 1 girl if we could stay with her, I was a bit nervous about our proposal.
We arrived at Erin’s and knocked on the door. A part of me hoped she had already gone to bed and would not answer the door, but as she appeared on the other side of the door, I introduced her to Daniel and popped the question, most likely in a fashion akin to asking a girl out for a first date.
From her face, I think Erin was a little shocked and surprised that we even asked, but upon surveying our situation, not only offered us the yard, but also said she would give us her couch to sleep on!! We gladly accepted and came inside to get know her better and for some added playtime with Oliver.
Erin shared her kitchen with us, stories of growing up in Vermont, encounters with the police in Oklahoma (which were hilarious) and other stories of the road that we could identify with. I suppose it was these travels and the closeness of the road to her heart that compelled her to take in two smelly strangers like Daniel and I.
In a matter of minutes, we had gone from no place to stay and not knowing a soul in Santa Barbara, to having a place to rest for the evening and making friends with bartender, traveler, and this all around cool girl, Erin. Displays of compassion and hospitality like Erin showed to us, even in my most cynical states, will remind me of the good each inhabitant of this world possesses.
There have been countless cases of folks showing us hospitality on this trip, from Terry in Oakland, to Ashley in Durango, to dinner with Tye in Denver and to Adele in Albuquerque. We will keep their kindness in mind as we meet other travelers to whom we might be able to pay it forward. Maybe you can find someone in need today to pass this compassion onto. It comes full circle!
Looking out my window at the vineyards as we head to Northern California . . .
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Day 27 – San Francisco
Happy 4th of July!!
It seems that Daniel and I could not get out (or find time to blog) in LA, but we did find time to record some music in the studio, spend a few days at the beach, see some cool music, go to Yogananda’s Self Realization Fellowship, make some new friends, see some old ones, and have some great food along the way (did I mention Santa Barbara??). But, it’s time to move forward to today.
Day 27 – San Francisco
One of the observations that Daniel and I have had about California was the lack of edge we felt while being here. Everything has been so relaxed and even LA there was not the energy that you feel in many parts of the East Coast. San Francisco had this edge, but in a good way! Maybe it’s the people, the crowded streets, or the hills we walked up . . . but it had something we’d been missing.
After staying the night with our Mom’s childhood friend Terry, we headed into the city a little before noon. Being that it was the 4th, the public parking garages had raised all of the day-long rates, making it $25 for us to park the car for the day. Ouch. But, once the car was in place, we were off.
We started the day with some cappuccinos in Little Italy, which were nice. I was wish there was more when I get to the bottom of the cup . . . ce la vie. The feel of Little Italy was nice and I wish we’d had the budget to have a nice meal in that part of town. Next was Chinatown. Wow, what a happening place. From the old guys playing cards in the park, to the dried fish being sold, to wondering “am I still in the United States?” Chinatown was a welcomed culture shock. The streets were filled with people and the smells of food I’ve never seen before were intense as we walked through the streets. I’ve learned the Chinese character for “tea” so it was cool seeing that in some of the stores.
After getting lost, we ended up in Japantown and the Fillmore area. It just so happened that there was a Jazz Festival happening on Fillmore St. and we partook of the Festivities. There were folks all over the place and the music was rocking! We saw a group called the Jazzonauts (with an incredible piano player who couldn’t have been more than 19), who were quite good at contemporary jazz and really young (scary). The seemed like Berklee machines (musicians – you know what I’m talking about). Walking through all the vendors made me hate myself a little for choosing to be a vegetarian, but I think seeing all the meat in the windows in Chinatown earlier in the day made me think I was making a smart choice for the betterment of my body.
It was then off to the Haight. Legendary in music history for being the center of the counter culture movement led by groups like the Grateful Dead, Haight-Ashbury still has the air that I would imagine it had in 1969. Tie-dye shirts, dirty white folks with dogs, lots of smoke shops, and an anarchist bookstore (who knew??!) were some of the sights we saw coming into this part of the city. By this time Daniel and I had not eaten anything all and decided to stop at the People’s Café for a late lunch/early dinner. It was Mmmmm good. Their veggie lasagna had cinnamon in it!!
After finishing the food and finding a cool blue blazer (yes!!), I ran into the famed record store, Amoeba Records. Working in the music industry, it has pained me to see the demise of the record store. I spent so much time there growing up, working, buying and learning about music, that it made me sad to see that the new trend toward digital music was robbing people of this experience. Amoeba renewed that feeling of excitement about visiting a record store, and man, what a selection!!! They had tons of Folkways stuff, lots of World music, a ton of jazz records, and they even had the majority of Rahim AlHaj’s catalog! Their record buyer knows what’s going on. I got outta there and spend $50 (could have been a lotttt more) on the new Wilco album, Jorge Drexler’s 12 Segundos de Oscuridad, a Ruben Blades record I love but never had physically, and a record highly recommended by Pat Metheny called We Three by Phineas Newborn, Roy Haynes and Paul Chambers. Soooo looking forward to checking these out. Amoeba – you rock.
After a quick visit to Golden Gate Park, it was off to see the fireworks for the 4th! SF did a great job with these and Daniel and I found a great spot to see the activities. They even had fireworks that exploded in the shape of a planet with a ring around it (aka Saturn). A nice way to end the day.
Tomorrow we will investigate Berkeley, have some famous Berkeley burritos and maybe meet up with a friend of Daniel’s. Ahh, maybe we will get to the Tea Garden at Golden Gate park too! Suggestions for Northern California are welcomed. . . .
It seems that Daniel and I could not get out (or find time to blog) in LA, but we did find time to record some music in the studio, spend a few days at the beach, see some cool music, go to Yogananda’s Self Realization Fellowship, make some new friends, see some old ones, and have some great food along the way (did I mention Santa Barbara??). But, it’s time to move forward to today.
Day 27 – San Francisco
One of the observations that Daniel and I have had about California was the lack of edge we felt while being here. Everything has been so relaxed and even LA there was not the energy that you feel in many parts of the East Coast. San Francisco had this edge, but in a good way! Maybe it’s the people, the crowded streets, or the hills we walked up . . . but it had something we’d been missing.
After staying the night with our Mom’s childhood friend Terry, we headed into the city a little before noon. Being that it was the 4th, the public parking garages had raised all of the day-long rates, making it $25 for us to park the car for the day. Ouch. But, once the car was in place, we were off.
We started the day with some cappuccinos in Little Italy, which were nice. I was wish there was more when I get to the bottom of the cup . . . ce la vie. The feel of Little Italy was nice and I wish we’d had the budget to have a nice meal in that part of town. Next was Chinatown. Wow, what a happening place. From the old guys playing cards in the park, to the dried fish being sold, to wondering “am I still in the United States?” Chinatown was a welcomed culture shock. The streets were filled with people and the smells of food I’ve never seen before were intense as we walked through the streets. I’ve learned the Chinese character for “tea” so it was cool seeing that in some of the stores.
After getting lost, we ended up in Japantown and the Fillmore area. It just so happened that there was a Jazz Festival happening on Fillmore St. and we partook of the Festivities. There were folks all over the place and the music was rocking! We saw a group called the Jazzonauts (with an incredible piano player who couldn’t have been more than 19), who were quite good at contemporary jazz and really young (scary). The seemed like Berklee machines (musicians – you know what I’m talking about). Walking through all the vendors made me hate myself a little for choosing to be a vegetarian, but I think seeing all the meat in the windows in Chinatown earlier in the day made me think I was making a smart choice for the betterment of my body.
It was then off to the Haight. Legendary in music history for being the center of the counter culture movement led by groups like the Grateful Dead, Haight-Ashbury still has the air that I would imagine it had in 1969. Tie-dye shirts, dirty white folks with dogs, lots of smoke shops, and an anarchist bookstore (who knew??!) were some of the sights we saw coming into this part of the city. By this time Daniel and I had not eaten anything all and decided to stop at the People’s Café for a late lunch/early dinner. It was Mmmmm good. Their veggie lasagna had cinnamon in it!!
After finishing the food and finding a cool blue blazer (yes!!), I ran into the famed record store, Amoeba Records. Working in the music industry, it has pained me to see the demise of the record store. I spent so much time there growing up, working, buying and learning about music, that it made me sad to see that the new trend toward digital music was robbing people of this experience. Amoeba renewed that feeling of excitement about visiting a record store, and man, what a selection!!! They had tons of Folkways stuff, lots of World music, a ton of jazz records, and they even had the majority of Rahim AlHaj’s catalog! Their record buyer knows what’s going on. I got outta there and spend $50 (could have been a lotttt more) on the new Wilco album, Jorge Drexler’s 12 Segundos de Oscuridad, a Ruben Blades record I love but never had physically, and a record highly recommended by Pat Metheny called We Three by Phineas Newborn, Roy Haynes and Paul Chambers. Soooo looking forward to checking these out. Amoeba – you rock.
After a quick visit to Golden Gate Park, it was off to see the fireworks for the 4th! SF did a great job with these and Daniel and I found a great spot to see the activities. They even had fireworks that exploded in the shape of a planet with a ring around it (aka Saturn). A nice way to end the day.
Tomorrow we will investigate Berkeley, have some famous Berkeley burritos and maybe meet up with a friend of Daniel’s. Ahh, maybe we will get to the Tea Garden at Golden Gate park too! Suggestions for Northern California are welcomed. . . .
Day 19 and 20 - San Diego, CA
Sometimes you wonder what you did right to be in the place you are in. Well, now is one of those moments. As I write this blog, I am sitting about 30 feet from the Pacific Ocean in San Clemente, California, listening to the waves and looking at the moon. Combine that with a Sierra Nevada and some music from Daniel and in this moment, life is truly good. Having moments like this just makes me remember how lucky I am to be here and to have the opportunity to put these experiences into prose. So here we go . . . .
Day 19 and 20 – San Diego, California
Ahh, California. You always see the movies and hear the songs that talk about the “California Soul” but to be here and experience it (especially during the summer) is a completely different thing. That feeling that all those singers and actors try to get across is here and I’m in the thick of it. It’s hard to describe. From an East Coast perspective it’s a “let-your-hair-down” and grab a beer attitude all day everyday. Everyone loves to have a good time, all the women are beautiful, the Mexican food is authentic and delicious, pot is pretty much legal, and the beach is always close by. What’s not to love?? This mindset slapped us in the face the minute we got into San Diego.
From the first looks of things, I did not see a difference between San Diego and say, Myrtle Beach. Both are beach based economies, a little dirty and all the shops sell oversized beach towels. Boy, was I wrong. After getting some tasty Mexican food at a local taco shop, Daniel and I met up with Scott Woodruff (aka Stick Figure), who I used to live with in Argentina. Scott and I recorded some music while we were living in Mendoza, and it had been 2 years since I’d seen him! Since he has become a pretty famous Reggae artist and is now working on his third album. He moved to San Diego just a few months ago and Daniel and I met up with him and his friends while they were hanging on the beach. We caught up about all the people we hung out with in Mendoza and played with his dog Ollie (who he brought back with him from Mendoza, no less). It was wonderful to catch up and to think back to all the good times had in that town. Sign number one I need to get back there.
After meeting Scott, Daniel and I hung out on Garnet St. in Mission Beach. It was a cool area with lots cool shops and bookstores. We then went to meet with Brandon, the guy we were couch surfing with for the evening. As soon as we walked into the apartment, Brandon hit us with his in-your-face personality. Within 5 minutes of being there, he was telling us about his lost love in Philadelphia and about how he would be moving to Buenos Aires in September to teach English. Sign number two I need to get back down there. We talked for a long time about the basics of traveling to Argentina, my experiences there, and things to look out for while there.
We hung out for a while at Brandon’s, talked with his roommates, and even listened to some live Kenny Garrett (did not see that one coming from these California surfers!!). Not too shabby.
After that, we headed down to Henry’s food market on Garnet to get some dinner, of a muffin, some granola and a half-pound of vinegary veggie salad. Sounds scrumptious hun? The California attitude was everywhere in this place. From the copius local vegetables to the laid back cashiers, Henry’s had the vibe.
Daniel and I found Scott’s apartment and kicked it with him and his friends for a while before heading back to sleep for the next day.
After a nice sleep at Brandon’s (who we never saw after our first meeting . . .), we started to plan our day. It happened around Mexican food.
Being from the South you always hear about “real” Mexican food. I always felt a little cheated inside knowing that everything I ate on the East Coast not authentic Mexican, but nonetheless I always enjoyed it. On talking to folks about the trip before-hand, everyone said, “Be sure to have the Mexican food in California.” So, having this larger-than-life idea of what “true” Mexican food is, and being 15 minutes from the Mexican border in San Diego, I thought we should venture out to find the real stuff. So I Googled (creatively) “best Mexican+San Diego” and after reading some reviews, I found the spot. Las Cuatro Milapas was going to be the holy grail of Mexican food. The restaurant was located in a part of San Diego called Barrio Logan, so we showered and headed that way.
One of my loves is Latino culture. The music, the language, the importance of family, and the light approach to life all ring within me and upon arriving in Barrio Logan, we found that the neighborhood was important in the local Latino culture. It is the home of Chicano Park, a piece of land under the freeways taken over by Mexican students and protestors from the city of San Diego in 1970, and a cultural center for those still wanting to connect with their mostly Aztlan roots. We met some Aztlan ladies there who showed us traditional dances and rhythms that they congregate to practice together. The dances were beautiful and there were 3 generations of Aztlans doing this was inspiring to see. Witnessing the practices after lunch made the Ethnomusicologist within me elated and I could have watched them dance and drum all day.
After the lesson and talk with the women, it was off to Las Cuatro Milpas. Oh my god. Eating their beans, rice, and tortillas was unbelievable. It was once of those meals where there is just nothing to say afterwards and you sit in awe of what you just consumed. With a smile on my face, I knew how real Mexican is supposed to taste.
We then headed down to Ocean Beach to see Scott and his band play at a street Festival, which was nice. They had just started playing together and sounded tight. Good to see Scott was now playing his music with a group.
After the Festival, it was off to LA. . . .
Day 19 and 20 – San Diego, California
Ahh, California. You always see the movies and hear the songs that talk about the “California Soul” but to be here and experience it (especially during the summer) is a completely different thing. That feeling that all those singers and actors try to get across is here and I’m in the thick of it. It’s hard to describe. From an East Coast perspective it’s a “let-your-hair-down” and grab a beer attitude all day everyday. Everyone loves to have a good time, all the women are beautiful, the Mexican food is authentic and delicious, pot is pretty much legal, and the beach is always close by. What’s not to love?? This mindset slapped us in the face the minute we got into San Diego.
From the first looks of things, I did not see a difference between San Diego and say, Myrtle Beach. Both are beach based economies, a little dirty and all the shops sell oversized beach towels. Boy, was I wrong. After getting some tasty Mexican food at a local taco shop, Daniel and I met up with Scott Woodruff (aka Stick Figure), who I used to live with in Argentina. Scott and I recorded some music while we were living in Mendoza, and it had been 2 years since I’d seen him! Since he has become a pretty famous Reggae artist and is now working on his third album. He moved to San Diego just a few months ago and Daniel and I met up with him and his friends while they were hanging on the beach. We caught up about all the people we hung out with in Mendoza and played with his dog Ollie (who he brought back with him from Mendoza, no less). It was wonderful to catch up and to think back to all the good times had in that town. Sign number one I need to get back there.
After meeting Scott, Daniel and I hung out on Garnet St. in Mission Beach. It was a cool area with lots cool shops and bookstores. We then went to meet with Brandon, the guy we were couch surfing with for the evening. As soon as we walked into the apartment, Brandon hit us with his in-your-face personality. Within 5 minutes of being there, he was telling us about his lost love in Philadelphia and about how he would be moving to Buenos Aires in September to teach English. Sign number two I need to get back down there. We talked for a long time about the basics of traveling to Argentina, my experiences there, and things to look out for while there.
We hung out for a while at Brandon’s, talked with his roommates, and even listened to some live Kenny Garrett (did not see that one coming from these California surfers!!). Not too shabby.
After that, we headed down to Henry’s food market on Garnet to get some dinner, of a muffin, some granola and a half-pound of vinegary veggie salad. Sounds scrumptious hun? The California attitude was everywhere in this place. From the copius local vegetables to the laid back cashiers, Henry’s had the vibe.
Daniel and I found Scott’s apartment and kicked it with him and his friends for a while before heading back to sleep for the next day.
After a nice sleep at Brandon’s (who we never saw after our first meeting . . .), we started to plan our day. It happened around Mexican food.
Being from the South you always hear about “real” Mexican food. I always felt a little cheated inside knowing that everything I ate on the East Coast not authentic Mexican, but nonetheless I always enjoyed it. On talking to folks about the trip before-hand, everyone said, “Be sure to have the Mexican food in California.” So, having this larger-than-life idea of what “true” Mexican food is, and being 15 minutes from the Mexican border in San Diego, I thought we should venture out to find the real stuff. So I Googled (creatively) “best Mexican+San Diego” and after reading some reviews, I found the spot. Las Cuatro Milapas was going to be the holy grail of Mexican food. The restaurant was located in a part of San Diego called Barrio Logan, so we showered and headed that way.
One of my loves is Latino culture. The music, the language, the importance of family, and the light approach to life all ring within me and upon arriving in Barrio Logan, we found that the neighborhood was important in the local Latino culture. It is the home of Chicano Park, a piece of land under the freeways taken over by Mexican students and protestors from the city of San Diego in 1970, and a cultural center for those still wanting to connect with their mostly Aztlan roots. We met some Aztlan ladies there who showed us traditional dances and rhythms that they congregate to practice together. The dances were beautiful and there were 3 generations of Aztlans doing this was inspiring to see. Witnessing the practices after lunch made the Ethnomusicologist within me elated and I could have watched them dance and drum all day.
After the lesson and talk with the women, it was off to Las Cuatro Milpas. Oh my god. Eating their beans, rice, and tortillas was unbelievable. It was once of those meals where there is just nothing to say afterwards and you sit in awe of what you just consumed. With a smile on my face, I knew how real Mexican is supposed to taste.
We then headed down to Ocean Beach to see Scott and his band play at a street Festival, which was nice. They had just started playing together and sounded tight. Good to see Scott was now playing his music with a group.
After the Festival, it was off to LA. . . .
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