Food that is tempting to touch and taste that I discovered in one of the main squares of beautiful Brussels, Belgium during a visit in 1998.
Category: traveling
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Enjoying a sunny weekend in Rome
With none of my fellow interns willing to tag along with me, I braved my first big train trip alone. I managed to get frightfully lost there because I was stupid and cheap and relied upon a free “Map of Rome” that was sponsored by McDonald’s of all places.
My lost meanderings were every bit as interesting as my planned wanderings, though. And I got an extra 4 hours of exercise!
One additional tidbit: The men in Rome (and, from what I’ve gathered, in Italy overall) are just like they’re often described in terms of how they pursue women… particularly blondes. I saw women being chased (playfully), wooed, serenaded, kissed, begged, and proposed to — and that was just in the two days I visited Rome! Incidentally, upon meeting and befriending a trio of delightfully friendly and attractive German-Spanish sisters on the train, I was initially shocked when one of them asked me to “be her boyfriend” while walking together around Rome. Afterwards, I understand what her intent was, but alas, it didn’t help. She got propositioned by would-be suitors in my presence nonetheless.
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The culture of Korea
[ Though written in May of 2001, I think my friend Tamara’s list of observations on her visit to Korea is interesting and certainly relevant today, given the prominence of Korea in the news. I normally include in this blog only stuff I have written personally, but I feel this is a worthy exception. — Adam]
A QUICK PROFILE OF SOUTH KOREA
– high cell phone usage; cells provided mainly by a company called Cyon;
most rings are answered immediately with no apology (incl. in restaurants,
in the middle of conversations, in bathrooms, and on subways)– most kids have desktop computers with a DSL connection (unlike Japan,
where people surf the web and answer email on their cell phones)– appearance is extremely important, esp. perfectly unblemished and light skin
– the ENTIRE border to North Korea is lined with barb wire, military
stations & spotlights… and North Korea has built huge apts. in sight of
Seoul to show their economic independence (btw, all the apts. are empty)– cars tend to be Daewoo, Hyundai & Kia, which use either regular gas or
‘LPG’ (which burns slightly cleaner)… all foreign imports require heavily
taxes (I saw only 2 BMWs in Korea)– Korean women dress trendy, not cute; however, their mannerisms can be
cute (ok, except all school girls seem to look impossibly cute)– the myth is true: toilet paper, which is packaged in multiple ways, is
used as a napkin, paper towel and face tissue — even in offices and
restaurants– Koreans drink instant coffee 2-4x a day; don’t really drink any type of
tea regularly (more a Japanese cultural thing)– Korean suburbs are actually HUGE apt complexes… 8-12 buildings per
complex, each building 20 floors tall, each floor 4-6 apts.– no real concept of privacy or solitude, esp. when family is over… you
are always “on” and engaged– countryside consists of rural high mountains, like West Virginia or parts
of Colorado– the roles are still distinct between men and women… traditionally, the
women will cook and eat after the men– women are expected to marry by 25 (latest 28)… I received many
questions about the status of my “upcoming” marriage– all highways are toll roads, usually costing between $100-2000 won (about
– most Korean men smoke and drink daily, something you never criticize in
public– outside Korean cities, produce is grown in many greenhouses along rice
patties– surprisingly, many men and women dye their hair, usually brown/copper
highlights– kids spend 8-10 hours in school, then 2-5hrs in an after-school program
(called hogwa)– if home, families are expected to eat and sit together
– every meal includes a spicy dish, usually 2-4 kimchee variations (of 100+
types)– every store will put its sign on its building — creating an overall very
colorful, very cluttered look (think Las Vegas)– 1/5 signs are in English, 1/5 are in Korean spelling phonetic English,
most highway signs include English “subtitles”– American movies are subtitled in Korean
– most product packaging contains English mispellings for some reason
– many Koreans study English in school (mostly written study) so they are
willing to practice English in conversations– Koreans love small house dogs, but raise & eat a different type of dog
for dog stew (uh-huh)– most of the houses and restaurants have heated floors (mmm) which creates
very dry heat… in the winters, I’m told they burn coal to heat the floors– most Koreans sit on the floor, incl. homes and restaurants
– cities have high levels of pollution due to many factories and constant
traffic… if the U.S. pollution average is 100, Seoul is 2000 (my biggest
challenge for the entire trip was a burned throat and a hoarse cough)– I have observed little attention to design, fengshui, space — Koreans
have a similar concept called “pungso” (ex., most buildings face south) but
it’s not really practiced– almost always, shoes are removed at the entrance of a home, template and
restaurant– Koreans tend to be either Christian or Buddhist
– most families don’t continue ancestor shrines but will honor dead
(grand)parents in an annual ritual– overall diet tends to be healthy (rice, fish, soup, vegetables)… but
Koreans actually love junk food (incl. their version of American hotdogs,
fried potatoes, pizza which has corn and squid)– the music Koreans hear is all over the map… U.S. 80’s and 90’s, some
recent hits, Japanese hits, Korean bugglegum pop– while their meals often takes a long time to prepare, Koreans eat
extremely fast with little beverage and eat all day… the order food seems
to be served is side dishes, meat/seafood, rice, a little water… -
Parking, Europe-style
Gotta hand it to those direct Irish folk. There’s certainly no ambiguity about THIS space.And speaking of parking: Every time I return to Europe, I’m still both amused by and fascinated with the European style of parking. Given the narrow streets throughout much of Europe, people park with one side of their car up on the sidewalks… and though usually the curbs aren’t too stepp, I’ve nonetheless gotten used to a *JOLT* right before parking.
In France — or at least in Paris when I visit one of my friends — there’s also the “touchy feely” form of parallel parking. This involves repeatedly hitting the bumper of the car in front of you and in back of you until you get your car in perfectly with just a millimeter or two of space on either side.
Luckily, given the very long lunches and other breaks the French seem to take, there’s likely no sense of urgency for folks to maneuver out of their parking spots, so I’m assuming that trapped Frenchies — spotting their closed-in cars — barely blink, and simply have another drink or cigarette or both. C’est la vie!
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Candy man
Candy, candy everywhere!
This picture shows my crazy candy purchasing from Germany from Christmastime 2001, but this year was much the same… perhaps even worse. Over $80 worth of candy. Just don’t tell mama, er, don’t tell my dentist!So WHY do I bring so much chocolate back from Europe twice yearly? That’s easy!
1) It’s GOOD chocolate! Once you try European chocolate, you’ll never go back to (ugh!) Hershey’s crap.
2) It’s not that expensive when you buy it in Europe. An entire pack of Hanuta (a 12’er) is $1.43 at the Walmart in Germany. That’s just 12 cents per delightfully delicious chocolate wafer cookie.
3) It’s a great way to make new friends ;-). Trust me, I’ll have a sack-full of Hanutas when I go dancing this week, and for every charming follow I dance with, there’ll be a little chocolate offering.Regarding #3, I have experience in this area, and I’ve also learned an important lesson. Witness this pivotal conversation from last year:
BEAUTIFUL GIRL: Hey, I remember you! You’re the one who gave me that vodka chocolate.
ME, BLURTING STUPIDLY: Uh, um… yeah, I gave that to lots of people. What’s your name again?As Homer Simpson would say… D’oh!
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Ja! I’m going to Deutschland!
I finally got my ticket ($249 roundtrip San FranciscoFrankfurt with a very special special!), and I’ll once again be spending Christmastime with wonderful friends in Germany.Of course, I can be a little cranky, and moan about the icky cold I’ll be facing, the insane hassles of peak-time holiday air travel (in coach, no less), and so on. But aside from getting to spend time with great people, I’ll also come back, once again, with a suitcase full of chocolate goodies.
Disadvantage: This makes me (literally) fat every year.
Advantage: This makes my friends fat, too, but they love me anyway.And on a slightly deeper level, my twice-yearly trips to Europe remind me how much I miss about Europe (universally decent public transit, awesomely long and lingering meals…) and also how appreciative I am for the silly little niceties of America (like drinking fountains, non-smoking clubs, and so on).
Ah, if only there were a way to make an AdamCountry, taking the best of all the places I’ve visited and rolling it all up into one place that’s warm but still with snow at Christmas, with delicious but non-fattening food, with people who are kind but also helpfully blunt when you have spinach in your teeth, and so on.
Yes, Christmastime is a time for dreaming, no matter what your faith, I think. š
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"Ask the Pilot" addresses the nail clipper conspiracy
Frequent and/or savvy Bladam readers might have noticed that I’m often citing articles from Salon.com. That’s because even the free stuff there is amazingly insightful and a downright pleasure to read… and the ‘premium’ articles — for which I pay about $30 a year — are typically far more substantive and thoughtful than what you’ll more commonly find in similar journals.
Their “Ask the Pilot” column is especially cool, written by an honest-to-goodness pilot at a major airline who answers questions that run the gamut from “Why aren’t there more women pilots” to “Do seat cushions actually save lives?”
His most current installment, in which he laments the ridiculous folly that comprises most of the “security” measures in place now, particularly resonated with me… since I recently had my nail clippers confiscated from me.
I had earlier read that the airline security folks were no longer prohibiting these items, I’m guessing due to a lessening fear of a hijacker threatening to “Stand back, or I’ll clip your nails!” But alas, my particular species was “more sharp than regular ones” meaning that, I suppose, I could have been especially threatening to even lengthier-manicured flightmates.
I got only a momentary chuckle from the confiscation incident, when the security guard expressed a look of deep concern, and excused herself to talk with a supervisor. She seemed a bit ashen-faced when she returned.
“Sir… um… sir… are these really $85?”
I was full ready to say “Yes, ma’am, and not only that, these are a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation, and are of enormous financial and sentimental value to me. And I’d never THINK of clipping a flightmate’s fingernails without his or her express written permission!”
Unfortunately (or, perhaps, fortunately)… aware of the generally chilly reception to jokes in the security line, I politely explained that, no, the price tag was not in U.S. currency, and I only paid about U.S. $9 for them.
Besides, had I engaged in my goofy fib, she might have selfishly stuck them in her pocket, sprinting to eBay right after her shift.
Sometimes you just can’t win.
UPDATED JULY 2021 TO ADD:
Patrick’s column in Salon is no more, but you can find his writing on his own site now! -
A sane article on insane terrorism
Richard A. Muller has written a cogent and very readable article in the MIT Technology Review entitled “Airport Insecurity.” In a nutshell, he smartly explains why banning nail clippers and similar sharp objects is stupid, searching “little old ladies” is understandable, and why it’s all about the shoes.
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"Security" that’s not so sharp
I recently came back from a 5 week trip in which I took nearly a dozen flights to, from, and around Europe. Almost all of my travel was in the blissfully comfy Business Class section of the planes for the first time in my life, and amidst all the friendly service and generally tasty food, one thing stood out:
Plastic knives.
Okay, so I don’t mean to sound insensitive to the victims of 9/11 or National Security yadda yadda and Mr. Ashcroft if you’re reading this please don’t arrest me, but this is one of the most friggin’ stupid things I’ve ever seen.
Confiscating eyebrow tweezers from my younger sister at the airport security checkpoint ranks up there, too. But I digress.
Anyway, I guess no one stopped to think that, gee, if someone is hell bent on hijacking a plane, a metal fork is likely to do just as much if not more damage. Or how about broken shards from the wine glasses? And as they (sort of said) in A Christmas Carol, watch out for those metal spoons, ’cause they’ll gouge your eyes out!
Why do we have such a history in this country of taking not only the easy way out, but the absolutely moronic dumb-as-rocks way out when faced with real problems? In fairness, even Air France dumbly offered the same surprisingly sharp plastic knives, but I’m guessing that none of this silliness would have happened without American gov’t/airline decrees.
Am I the only person to be so annoyed by this symptom of knee-jerk stupidity?
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Traveling, pictures, and memories
If you don’t have pictures to remember your travels, did they really happen?
While we all would initially no doubt insist that we travel for the “experience,” we should also ask ourselves to what extent we travel to “collect” things… trinkets, pictures, etc. Without those things, what do we really have left? When the memories fade, what then?
I came to this hard realization after getting my backpack stolen while on a 5-week Europe trip…
… losing not only my camera and hundreds of dollars of other stuff, but also my travel journal and *400 pictures*. And of course, I hadn’t looked into travel insurance with my Amex card, which I new realize was a mere $22 for $5,000 in insurance. Argh.
400 pictures. Gone. Poof. Part of me felt so resigned as to almost think, okay, trip’s over, let’s go home. Beautiful scenery? Why bother. Captivating architecture? Unless *I* capture it, why not just buy a book and save the time and money?
Of course, I didn’t cut my trip short, and I went on to have a truly wonderful vacation. But there is (and clearly was) still that nagging sadness of a loss… a deep, depressing loss far beyond what one gets after having a wallet pickpocketed or a car stereo pilfered. A part of my EXPERIENCES, a part of ME was taken, and from the type of place (a youth hostel) where I’ve historically felt carefree, at-ease, safe.
And throughout the rest of my trip, I kept having these frustrating and reoccurring reminders of “oh, this’d look beautiful on film” which, in a deeper sense meant, “wow, by capturing this, I can communicate to my friends, family, and future-self about what this trip really MEANT to me.”
But that’s bull, really, when you get right down to it. 20 years later, that beautiful scene will have only the meaning I assign to it, not really transferrable to others. And the 15 seconds I spent taking that picture could have perhaps been spent talking, listening, touching, smelling, resting, dreaming, planning, doing. Those 15 seconds add up. And who really loves a detached shutterbug anyway?
Three weeks with no camera. No pictures. Not even from a cheapo disposable camera. Beautiful places, beautiful people, beautiful memories. All mine.
I’m still sad, but now I’m sad and confused. Why take pictures anyway? Such a fuss to organize, annotate, publish, and so on. What does it mean in the end?
Aren’t my travels worth it for the moment?
But damn, I still want a new camera. I want my pictures back. And I want the wistful sadness to go away. It was easier being an unrepentant and happy shutterbug.