Thursday, April 9, 2009

How Not to Visit Toronto

True exploration of a city is impossible with 97 teenagers in tow. But I never give up an opportunity to discover a new place.

I'm just not a travel-with-a-group-kind-of-gal.

Enough with the negativity. On with the show.

• Stats:
3 buses
97 high-school choir and orchestra members (including my fabulous son, Jake)
15 parent/teacher chaperones
630 miles each way
11 hours drive time each way

• Reason why I wish I had remained dedicated to yoga:
This position would have been more comfortable than sleeping on a bus.



• Jake and I had seen Niagara Falls before although he didn't remember it. It's a natural marvel, of course. However, I felt much like Chevy Chase in Vacation when the family arrived at the Grand Canyon. There it is. Fabulous. Ready to go? My lack of enthusiasm has to do with interaction. When I do finally see the Grand Canyon, I want to hike it, camp in it, canoe through it. Other than going over it in a barrel, there's no way to really interact with Niagara Falls, so it leaves me a bit unaffected.



• Toronto Science Center is fantastic. Carve out a good afternoon at least to enjoy all it has to offer.



• The IMAX film Mysteries of the Great Lake is much more fascinating than it sounds। Did you know that it takes a drop of water 400 years to travel from the headwaters of Lake Superior to the edge of Lake Ontario? How do they know that?

The star of the movie is the sturgeon. He is one badass prehistoric fish.



• The Rogers Centre, formerly the Toronto SkyDome, home of the Toronto Blue Jays and Toronto Argonauts is impressive even to a sports idiot like me. It has a fully retractable roof and a hotel attached with windows looking out onto the field.



• Some 16 year old boys still like to hang with their mom in Chinatown and beyond. Kensington street and shops were beyond funky.






• The Four Seasons or Franki Valli were before my time, but Jersey Boys is an excellent story and compelling show.



• Freddie Mercury and Queen are right up my alley but We Will Rock You is simply ok. We got a nice surprise when two of the best actors came out after the show just to speak to our group. They were fantastic engaging the kids in a lively question and answer session.



• The CN Tower is...



... highly inefficient, but the views are nice once you get to the top. The same is true of the St. Louis Arch and Chicago’s Sears Tower. Sidenote: If you’re in Chicago, skip the tourist trap rip-off at Sears Tower and go to the 96th floor of the John Hancock Center. Make sure to visit the women’s restroom for the best view. Honest.

Here’s more from the CN Tower. Pics courtesy of Jake. [Vertigo Warning] No. Really.





The glass floor completely freaked me out. Those are our buses down there.





Here was an example of how not to make money as a musician. Good for our young musicians to see.




• Jake enjoyed the names of these establishments:



and



although he much prefers these kind of signs:




and



• Enjoy your Easter or Pagan holiday this weekend.



Duck a l’orange anyone?



Maybe not.

I'll just leave you with dessert then.

Till next time, Bon Appetit.


Saturday, March 14, 2009

Citified

About two years ago, my 16-year-old (then 14) discovered podcasts. He particularly liked the NPR News Quiz Show, "Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me". I would be doing things around the house and I would hear him laughing out loud to seemingly nothing. Then I would know what he was listening to.

When I asked the kids what they wanted to do during Spring Break, they both said "Go to Chicago!" Easy enough. I love the city. If given a choice of where to live, I'd go back and forth between an apartment in the city and a place in the middle of nowhere.

When scheduling the time for us to go, I remembered that they tape "Wait Wait" in downtown Chicago on Thursday nights. I checked into tickets and when I told Jake, you would have thought I had just given him tickets to see The Beatles. Wait. Let me rephrase that. Jake doesn't outwardly show much excitement about anything. He keeps his emotions well encased in his lanky posture. It all comes out in his smile and his eyes. He was stoked. Luckily Madison had heard the show too and was mildly willing to go along. While her dream tickets would have been more along the lines of Project Runway, she did get a promise that we would shop for a dress for her next big event: The 8th Grade Graduation. *sigh*

So off we went to the big city. We had one errand to do while we were there. Jake's cello needed a new bridge and we were told there was a place right downtown that would work on it. I knew the logistics sucked for parking, so we made a plan. We found The Fine Arts Building, a very cool old place among many very cool old places.



I pulled into an alley amidst a high traffic area. Jake jumped out, grabbed the cello and headed to the instrument shop. I had given him directions to our hotel, a mile away. He's been to Chicago before along with NYC and Boston. He's interested in going to college in a big city. I wanted to give him some space to feel comfortable on his own in the midst of the city chaos.

In the meantime, Madison and I arrived at the hotel and got settled in. After a while, I got a call from Jake. He sounded invigorated, confident and cold! It was a high of only about 25 that day and, you guessed it, windy! He was already at the hotel. He'd made it without any problems and just needed the room number. When he got to the room, he was excited to tell us about the elevator in the Fine Arts Building. "It was one of those old elevators with two sets of elaborate doors and an attendant!" Cool.



After lunch, Jake wanted to check out the gigantic Border's store, while Madison and I began our search for the perfect dress. Eventually, Jake met up with us again. He wasn't impressed with the store, Forever XXI, but at least he had found something at Border's to make the time pass more quickly.

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He also found this gem and couldn't help photographing it. Jake loves irony.

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We ended the shopping time with a quick visit to The Art Institute. At 5:00 on Thursdays, there is no fee to get in, so a line had already formed when we arrived at 4:45pm.

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The homeless are well aware of this Thursday evening opportunity and while I didn't see them inside the museum, they didn't hesitate to ask the patrons for some change. I pulled out a $5 to give to a woman collecting for the Jane Addams Hull House and another $5 fell out of my purse. I swear it was like a bunch of pigeons dropped down to get the breadcrumbs I dropped. I gave the elusive $5 to the first guy that saw it and went on my way.

There was an exhibit by Yousuf Karsh, a portrait photographer. I had heard of Annie Lebowitz, but not of Karsh. Wow. Amazing black and white photos of Churchill, Audrey Hepburn, Hemingway, Castro, Picasso, Warhol, etc.



We headed upstairs to the architectural work. Great works by Frank Lloyd Wright,

Do you see the American flag in the piece?

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but also wonderful gates from doorways, artists unknown. Wouldn't you love to have this as the entrance to your home?

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From the Art Institute we headed west into the Loop to the prestigious (not) Chase Auditorium for the Wait Wait show. We were told to stand in a holding area until the auditorium doors were open. So there we were standing among other NPR geeks like ourselves. It was a well-behaved, orderly group.

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As our 'wait' time passed and the group grew larger, what amused me was this: We had been told to stand in a serpentine line. Imagine the rope lines at the movie theater or at a theme park. Now....take away the rope lines. Never before had I been asked to stand in a serpentine line without the rope. And never would I have expected people to actually heed the rules that the rope line insists you follow. It became even more hilarious to me after the doors opened, because the group of approximately 500 people actually walked in a serpentine even though there were no rope lines. Would a group of people going to see Rush Limbaugh have followed the invisible rope line? These are questions a philosophy major asks. Welcome to my messed-up mind.

Once inside the Chase Auditorium, we found good seats near the front. They had music piped in for us to listen to while we waited for the show to start. Whoever makes the soundtrack is brilliant. It was a bit like walking past six different dorm rooms in 1979. We heard Air Supply, Supertramp, Lyle Lovett, and The Who playing everyone's favorite, "Squeezebox".

I looked around and got a good assessment of the group sitting close-by. In the midst of an inspiring amount of grey hair, sat a fur-wearing redhead looking horribly uncomfortable. By the end of the show, she seemed to lighten up and even enjoy herself a bit.

I won't go into details about the taping of Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me, because if you haven't ever heard it, you would find my description of it exceedingly dull. If you are a fan, you'll be delighted to know that they introduce Peter Segel, Carl Kasell and the panelists Chicago Bulls style. Remember the stadium going dark, then the colored strobe lights with the Alan Parsons Project music? Do the Chicago Bulls still use that introduction? Or did that go out with Michael Jordan? Anyway, all the panelists on Wait, Wait are just as geeky in person, Paula Poundstone especially. Carl Kasell is very tall and they all stand around after the show ready and willing to chat and sign autographs. They have a merch table where I could have picked up the Wait Wait Commemmorative Plate (yes, really) or the Bowling Shirt with the name 'Carl' embroidered on the pocket. I am an NPR geek. It's official now.

The next day we went to the Museum of Contemporary Art. Some very cool exhibits that I couldn't take pictures of. But I did sneak this one. Sorry for the bad...err..cloudy quality. I took it on my phone. Imagine this covering an entire wall.

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Onward through and out of the city to drop Jake off at his debate tournament. (No spectators allowed, hmph) Madison and I headed over to what we later deemed The Cave of Capitalism, but is better known as Woodfield Mall. While the city is filled with diversity ranging from the uber-wealthy to the high-fashion to the artsy-fartsy, Woodfield is filled with ummmmmm....errr.....I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It was depressing. It was the young girls trying to look grown-up. It was the aging women trying to look young. But after a few hours, we found our exit and stepped outside into the sunshine. We found ourselves gasping for air. Yes! We made it out of the Perfumed Corridors of Barbie Hell. I was relieved to know that Madison was as anxious to leave as I was. After we settled in at home, she suggested we watch Little Miss Sunshine. When the family arrives at the hotel in Redondo Beach and gets a load of the miniature barbie dolls, I yelled out "That! That is Woodfield Mall!" Madison laughed in agreement.

God, I love my kids.

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Monday, February 23, 2009

Transformation in Kenya




1981. I was almost 18.

My Dad's aunt and uncle were doing the Baptist missionary thing in Kenya. Dad never gave up the opportunity to take us on adventures. So off we went. ..my Dad, his young new wife, my sister and me.




We had traveled all over Europe when I was nine, but traveling to Kenya was like going to the moon. The flight was 24 hours and when we landed in Nairobi, there were few who looked like me. I grew up in a small Midwestern farm town with no diversity. Mom and Dad did their best to incorporate people of all kinds into our lives, but nothing could match this.

We weren't part of an expensive safari tour. Uncle JZ (Texans, donchya know)and Aunt Francis directed us to some of the hot wildlife spots. Our first stop was Treetops Lodge in Aberdares. We traveled there on a bus, not a plush motorcoach, but an aging school bus. The bus dropped us off on the side of a road without a building in sight. Lodge porters took care of our luggage and instructed us to stay together. They warned that if wildlife approached us, we were to remain still. As we approached intermittent wall structures built in the middle of the forest, 'rangers' with guns scoured the area to make sure wildlife wasn't near, then would direct us to the next protective structure. Then Treetops came into view.



(There are better pictures on Google, but we took these and those that follow.)

Treetops became famous when visited in 1952 by then Princess Elizabeth. During her stay there, King George VI passed away, and she left Treetops as the new Queen of England.

Situated next to watering holes and salt licks, wildlife arrived mostly at night in full view of the hotel and guests.



The rooms were small with barred windows. We were instructed to not leave anything within a monkey arm's length to the window. Seriously. The monkeys particularly liked expensive camera equipment.



(Fuzzy monkey makes for fuzzy image)

The two places I remember most about the hotel were the roof and the floor level lookout. I don't remember sleeping. At night, the water holes were lit up and I stayed there and watched elephants, wildebeest and rhinos.



Baboons hung out on the roof as well, but we were instructed to leave them alone. They could get quite mean. (more on my interactions with baboons further in the story)





During the day when an elephant herd arrived, we went to the enclosed bunker on ground level. From there we could reach out and touch them. I remember being surprised at how much hair they had!



Next stop: Keekorok Lodge in the Masai Mara Reserve. (west of Nairobi) If it weren't for this picture, I would not remember where we stayed. Now I make a point to take pictures of the signs that say where I am. There's a phrase we use a lot in our family: "Is this the road we're on?" I feel like that much of the time.



I always encourage my own kids to keep travel journals now. There is so much that I've forgotten that I never thought I would. The pictures you see come from old brittle slides. I recently had them converted to digital. I should have done it sooner.

It was in Keekorok that we got to ride in those cool safari jeeps.

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(stock photo. I was probably too chicken to get out of the Jeep to take a picture.)

The prize that everyone wants to see is the elusive lion. When one jeep finds them, they radio the others and we all descend. You can see how excited these were to see us.



I could have stayed there all day just to watch her sleeping in her element.



She'd make a good spooner, don't you think?



After a long day of wildlife viewing, we had dinner on the lodge patio. We noticed small monkeys in the trees nearby. Just moments after the waiters left rolls on our bread plates, a monkey descended and snatched my roll. Spooner=Sucker. This was my favorite picture from the entire trip.



Age has darkened the photo, so you can't see the roll in the monkey's hands. The sign that it's sitting on says "Please do not feed the monkeys." I love it when the wildlife mocks us.

We visited Masai villages where they were excited for the opportunity to sell their crafts. I still have a few of the things that I bought over twenty-five years ago.



The women were considered highly feminine if they shaved their heads. I was fascinated with their elaborate piercings to create large holes in their ears. This was before the ear gauges that you see now.



A little culture never hurt anyone. Masai Warrior Dances.



Air Jordan?



The houses were made of dung.



I guarantee there were many puns made about this hut being full of shit, etc.
Dad is all about the puns.

The Masai women were too busy to be bothered with deodorizing smelly homes. You would see them in the middle of seemingly nowhere carrying huge piles of goods on their back, often swaddling a baby....



...and shoeless.



Driving around the country, I was amazed that we would see eagles, giraffe, gazelles, wildebeest, elephants by the side of the road. These were not the cows and horses that we saw in Illinois.





And these, termite mounds. Yes, termites made this.



We were on our way to Mombasa and the older generation just had to stop and see the termite mounds. "Yawn" says the teenager. My sister and I decided to stay in the car and read. It was warm so we sat in the car with the doors and windows wide open, reading our books. Then we heard Dad yelling at us about something. We looked up and saw a family of baboons walking down the center of the abandoned highway right toward us. Our initial excitement gave way to fear and we quickly closed all the doors and windows of the car. There we sat inside laughing our asses off as the baboons ascended onto the hood of the car and watched us through the windshield. Then we remembered something someone had told us. Laughing is a threat to them because we're showing our teeth. So we tried very hard to stop. In the meantime, Dad shot some photos.



Eventually, the baboon family got bored with us and carried on to their destination. All of a sudden I knew how animals in the zoo must feel.

Onward to Mombasa, the Kenyan beachside resort on the Indian Ocean. The first day we snorkeled just past the reef and then came in to be told that there were many sharks in the area that day. *shudders* The rest of that time was spent at the pool.



Can you find Spooner?

Dad loved to befriend any of the natives no matter where we went. He quickly started up a conversation with one of the young Masai men who worked at the resort. They began comparing cultures and the subject of me and my sister came up. He asked Dad if either of us were betrothed. Dad chuckled and said that, indeed, Lisa was engaged to be married and pointed out her ring. The man asked Dad "Well, what do you get when she marries?" Dad answered, "I get a son." "Well, what about your younger daughter?" (That would be Young and Nubile Spooner) Dad answered, "She's not engaged or married." "Ah...", the Masai Warrior said. "I will give you nine cows for her hand in marriage."

Dad still jokes that he asked to see pictures of the cows and checked into the cost of shipping them to the states. I tell him he should have. With depreciation and age, I'm sure I'm only worth about a half a sheep at this point.

Traveling to Kenya was a huge turning point in my life. Before this trip, I thought that the world revolved around me, as most seventeen-year-olds do. Traveling halfway around the world to witness cultures completely different from mine, to be a minority but to be greeted warmly by people who I didn't understand, to be as far from home as I could possibly get, was an experience like no other. As global as our society has become, nothing awakens consciousness like solid feet on unfamiliar soil.

No matter my finances, I have always put a little something away in order to travel. My destinations of late haven't been near as exotic as Africa, but my list of desired locations is long and varied. This time I'll take a journal.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Love of the Unknown


A Map of the World

One of the ancient maps of the world
is heart-shaped, carefully drawn
and once washed with bright colors,
though the colors have faded
as you might expect feelings to fade
from a fragile old heart, the brown map
of a life. But feeling is indelible,
and longing infinite, a starburst compass
pointing in all the directions
two lovers might go, a fresh breeze
swelling their sails, the future uncharted,
still far from the edge
where the sea pours into the stars.

Ted Kooser