~ wander.essence ~

call to place: ecuador

wanderessence1025 July 23, 2020

Since my years of living and working abroad, I’ve had a dream to travel to a place and simply live like a local. I love the experience of living in a place vs. traveling to a place. The first is a deep immersion while the second is skimming the surface. I love diving in and learning the culture and getting to know the people. It’s an entirely different experience.

I knew it would be expensive to live somewhere for an extended period, and I wondered how I might do it. I figure the key would be finding a cheap place to live. For a while, I followed some bloggers who lived in Quito, Ecuador and what surprised me was that they were renting a house for $325/month. They were actually living there long term, so they had probably signed a long-term lease. That would be impossible for me, because I only wanted to stay a month or slightly longer.

Still. I thought maybe it might be possible. While there, I could study Spanish, write about a fictional character living in Quito, and wander aimlessly through the culture.

This appealed to me and I determined I would figure out a way to do it in July of this year, 2020, the year that has turned into a perpetual waiting, a stressful year in which we’ve mostly been staying at home, waiting to be released back to normal life. I wanted to go in July because it is said that the best weather for visiting with less rain and warm clear days is from June-September. I found July to be the driest month and so decided that’s when I wanted to go.

I am also enticed to travel to South America, a part of the world I’ve never visited.

When I began reading in the newspaper in late March that the Ecuadorean city of Guayaquil was hit by one of the world’s worst coronavirus outbreaks, I knew my plans were doomed. The country’s collapsed health system had forced families to leave the corpses of loved ones on street corners, sometimes for days under the burning sun.

Since I realized I wouldn’t be going ANYWHERE in July, I hunkered down and read all about Ecuador. I figured I would have an idea of what I wanted to do when next July, or the next, rolls around. I hope beyond all hope that I can get there in one of the next couple of years.

Most people go to Ecuador to see the Galapagos Islands, but when I first dreamed of going to Ecuador, I didn’t think I had any interest in going there. As I read more about the country, my ideas about what I wanted to do there began to evolve into another sort of trip altogether.

South America

a mural walk in washington on a hot july day

wanderessence1025 July 19, 2020

One hot and humid Sunday in July, we followed a mural walk in D.C. that was outlined in the Weekend Section of The Washington Post: “Need an art fix? Take a mural stroll.” We didn’t actually walk, because it was about 95°F, so we drove from mural to mural following the walk in the article, putting our masks on every time we hopped out of the car.

Most of the museums in Washington are still closed, going on four months now, so it was fun to have an excuse to go downtown and see some street art. This three-mile walk starts near the Columbia Heights Metro station in Northwest Washington, and it ends at the U Street Station. Many of the artworks have been commissioned by MuralsDC – a public program that funds murals. The pieces on this walk reveal the city’s cultural and economic history, highlighting the city’s native folks.

Here Einstein spray paints his famous formula on the wall like graffiti.

E=MC2 by Nessar Jahanbin (3018 14th St.)

“You Are Welcome” by Cita Sadeli, a.k.a. Miss Chelove (3020 14th St)

by G. Byron Peck (2500 14th St)

unknown

“Buck Hill” is the 70-foot-tall saxophone-playing “wailin’ mailman” painted by Joe Pagac; it celebrates the jazz musician and postal worker.

Buck Hill by Joe Pagac (1925 14th St.)

We found three murals by Aniekan Udofia, one of D.C.’s most well-known visual artists. One of them is a gagged George Washington; another is Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

Ruth Bader Ginsberg – by Aniekan Udofia

unknown by Aniekan Udofia

gagged George Washington by Aniekan Udofia

We found a number of famous and recent murals celebrating African American icons such as Paul Robeson (1898 – 1976); he was an American bass baritone concert artist and stage and film actor who became famous both for his cultural accomplishments and for his political activism.

Paul Robeson (1351 U. St)

Ben’s Next Door by Eric B. Ricks

The Torch by Aniekan Udofia, at Ben’s Chili Bowl, is one of the most photographed murals in the city. Here we found Prince, the Obamas and Duke Ellington.

Ben’s Chili Bowl, founded in 1958 by Ben and Virginia Ali, is one of the oldest continuous businesses on U Street. It is also one of the few to survive both the riots that followed the 1968 assassination of the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the years of disruptive Metro construction in the late 1980s. Thanks in part to the patronage of entertainer Bill Cosby, Ben’s has become a national landmark. The restaurant occupies the former Minnehaha Theater, a 1910 movie house that was owned and operated from 1913 to 1920 by Sherman H. Dudley, once a leading vaudeville performer and entrepreneur.

bear mascot at Ben’s Chili Bowl

On the corner of Ben’s Chili Bowl, we saw the Obamas draped in an American flag.

The Obamas and Ben’s Chili Bowl

The Torch at Ben’s Chili Bowl

The Torch at Ben’s Chili Bowl

The Torch at Ben’s Chili Bowl

The Torch at Ben’s Chili Bowl

The Torch at Ben’s Chili Bowl

The Torch at Ben’s Chili Bowl

The Torch at Ben’s Chili Bowl

The Torch at Ben’s Chili Bowl

Kaliq Crosby painted William P. and Winnifred Lee outside their flower shop at 1026 U. St. NW.

Lee’s Legacy (William P. and Winnifred Lee) (1026 U St.)

Lee’s Flower Shop

Black Lives Matter at Lee’s Flower Shop

We stopped on a side street to see Aniekan Udofia’s mural of D.C. native Marvin Gaye (710 S St. NW).

Marvin Gaye (710 S St. NW) by Aniekan Udofia

We found a number of random murals and buildings along the way.

random murals in D.C.

BLACK LIVES MATTER

random murals in D.C.

Pabst Blue Ribbon

Bohemian Cavern

random murals in D.C.

Industrial Bank

random murals in D.C.

Three separate murals in an alley celebrate the neighborhood’s musical roots.

D.C. to the World by Cita Sadeli (637 T Street, NW)

I love this one, but I’m not sure what it’s titled or who the artist is.

unknown title or artist

We found another alley full of murals. Here the alley had a rather pungent odor. 😦

more D.C. murals

Finally, we saw the very tall “Kindred” by Alberto Clerencia (1210 V St.).

“Kindred” by Alberto Clerencia (1210 V St.)

It felt good to get out of the house after four long months of rarely going anywhere interesting.

*Sunday, July 5, 2020*

tower of the four winds & the desoto national wildlife refuge

wanderessence1025 July 16, 2020

I left Omaha on a highway that cut through cornfields neatly trimmed with white wooden fences, all glimmering in the breeze. Vaguely rolling hills, soft and green, surrounded me. It seemed everyone in these parts had SUVs or pickup trucks. Soon I passed a Christmas tree farm called Santa’s Woods.

I was looking for the city of Blair and found “Dana College” painted on the town’s water tower. I went directly to Black Elk-Neihardt Park to see the Tower of the Four Winds, designed by Dana College professor F.W. Thomsen. Built to promote world peace, brotherhood and humanity, it portrays the message of Black Elk, an Oglala Sioux holy man and visionary. He is said to have envisioned a radiant person with outstretched arms in a blessing to all people, standing in front of the tree of life. The 45-foot tower, made from native rock and covered with a 50,000 piece mosaic, represents the messiah-like figure of Black Elk’s vision.

Tower of the Four Winds

Several trails crisscrossed the 80 acres of rolling hills in the park. They included a paved trail with pedestal mosaics by Prof. Thomsen depicting Native-American descriptions of north, south, east and west.

South

East

North

West

I took a pleasant and breezy stroll around the park in a happy start to my morning. At the “heights,” I had some views of flat Nebraska.

Blair, Nebraksa

Blair, Nebraksa

Tower of the Four Winds

I then crossed the Missouri River into Iowa, where I entered the DeSoto National Wildlife Refuge. Established in 1958, it encompasses land in both Iowa and Nebraska. It lies on the wide plain formed by prehistoric flooding and shifting of the Missouri River. The Refuge’s primary purpose is to serve as a stopover for migrating ducks and geese. Peak populations of 50,000 or more ducks, mostly mallards, are common on the refuge during the fall migration.

The seven-mile-long lake that is the heart of the refuge was once a hazardous bend in the Missouri River. The DeSoto Bend got its name from the nearby river town of DeSoto.

Lewis and Clark’s Corps of Discovery traveled through this area in 1804 and 1806. They set up camp along DeSoto Bend after meeting with Indians at “council bluff” (according to William Clark’s journal) on August 3, 1804.

Desoto National Wildlife Refuge

I looked around the Visitor’s Center, including the goods scavenged from the Steamboat Bertrand, which sank on April 1, 1865.

Facts about Steamboat Bertrand

By the mid-1800s, the Missouri River had become an artery for trade that opened the West. Steamboats carried supplies to the early fur trading posts, frontier settlements, and mining towns. But the turbulent, snag-infested “Big Muddy” took its toll on the early stern and side-wheelers. During the 19th and early 20th centuries, more than 400 steamboats sank or were stranded between St. Louis, Missouri and Fort Benton, Montana.

When the Bertrand sank on April 1, 1865, the Missouri River quickly covered the boat in mud. In 1968, the boat and its cargo were discovered on the refuge and unearthed the following year. The Center holds over 250,000 artifacts from the shipwrecked steamboat.

The Final Voyage

The cargo contained all manner of goods needed for the new Montana Territory, gold mines, logging camps, farms and households. Aside from tools and equipment, even food items and clothing were recovered from the boat. Remarkably preserved, the cargo provided a unique time capsule for researchers.

Steamboat Bertrand

April 1, 1865: A Moment Frozen in Time

Steamboat Bertrand

Familiar objects from Steamboat Bertrand

Worcestershire Sauce from the Steamboat Bertrand

more artifacts from Steamboat Bertrand

There were also displays about local history and wildlife at the Visitor’s Center. As the land here was opened up by riverboats, pioneers settled in the area and changed the land to suit their needs. Croplands replaced the meadows of Bluestem and Indiangrass, and native animals were sometimes displaced along with the plants. Today, the Refuge is working to restore pieces of prairie.

The lure of gold along the upper reaches of the Missouri produced a major boom in the middle 1860s. By 1865, eager fortune seekers swarmed over the hills and panned in streams. The activities of miners often produced devastated landscapes, sterile mine dumps, and foul water that killed native fish and made streams unfit for drinking by man or animal. Some mining techniques washed entire hillsides into the valley below, destroying wildlife habitat and polluting mountain streams with silt and other sediments.

Towns in the region became focal points for settlements. Sometimes entire towns sprang up almost overnight on what had once been limitless prairie or wooded river bluffs. The building of a town had much the same effect on wildlife as the activities of the farmer and miner.

coyote in the grasslands

TOWNS: Making Nowhere Somewhere

A Fisherman’s Life

bobcat

water birds

I watched the film at the refuge then drove through part of the refuge and took a walk on the Grasslands trail (3/4 mile), where I saw a variety of grasses, goldenrod, and other yellow flowers that looked like rudbeckia – yellow petals with brown faces. Critters kept skittering across the trail in front of me, but they were so fast I couldn’t tell if they were lizards, grasshoppers or tiny frogs. I heard a commotion in a pine tree and saw three large raccoons scampering up the tree. Lots of action in these wetlands!

Grasslands trail

Grasslands trail

Grasslands trail

Grasslands trail

butterfly along the Grasslands trail

Grasslands trail

Missouri River

Missouri River

Missouri River

Missouri River

I left the wildlife refuge close to 11:00 a.m. and headed to Fort Atkinson State Historical Park.

*Thursday, September 5, 2019*

on journey: a drive from richmond to charleston

wanderessence1025 July 15, 2020

Getting underway with my daughter is not always easy, so we started our 8-hour drive to Charleston an hour later than I hoped, close to 10:00 a.m. While she got ready, I talked to my husband about our son’s meltdown the previous night; the details put a black mood over me for our upcoming trip. I would have to work hard all day to get out of my distress and my funk.

We took I-95 almost the entire way from Richmond to Charleston, so it was an incredibly boring drive landscape-wise. The only interesting things that happened were inside the car: conversations with Sarah and songs from her eclectic playlist.

An hour after leaving Richmond, we were welcomed to “North Carolina: Nation’s Most Military Friendly State.”

We were soon driving past exits for Lake Gaston, a place I spent many happy summer vacations with friends when I was a teenager. My friend Melissa’s mother had a family-sized permanent tent set up on her lakefront property, and another open-air awning sheltering a picnic table and cooking area. Melissa lived there with her mom and siblings for much of each summer and we outsiders were sometimes invited to stay a week or so. We spent many happy hours water skiing, lounging on the floating dock, diving and swimming off the dock, and even skinny dipping in the evenings. The mother had a lot of friends who congregated around the picnic table in the evenings, drinking, playing cards and joking around, and I remember learning my most famous card trick from one of the men who hung out at that lakefront. I can still picture the set-up at Lake Gaston and the carefree times we had there.

We drove along the highway, cotton fields stretched out on either side of us. A sign said “Real Christians Forgive Like Jesus.” We passed the Roanoke River and signs for Roanoke Rapids. A car whizzed past with a a Harley Davidson sticker and a license plate: PSYCHWARD. As we passed Rose’s, about 103 miles north of the South Carolina border, a sign reminded us that “When You Die You Will Meet God.” We passed Selma, Goldsboro and a sign for the Cape Lookout National Seashore. We would come to the the famous roadside attraction, South of the Border, in another hour and a half; signs started popping up telling us how far we had to go and what attractions we’d find there:

Reptile Lagoon: South of the Border
¡Caliente! – South of the Border
¿Where the Hell is South of the Border?

We passed Black Ops Paintball and more cotton fields. Sarah mentioned that her friend Daniel used to live in Rocky Mount, N.C. and he said there were a bunch of “podunks” there. A Confederate flag flapped in the wind along the highway and we both expressed our disgust.

Pedro’s Sombrero: Observation Deck – South of the Border
No Shoot Ze Bull – South of the Border

We passed the Cape Fear River, Fayetteville, Elizabethtown, the Lumber River and Lumbertown. A pink sign promised “Fantasy Video and Novelties.”

Take a Walk on the Wild Side – South of the Border
Too Much Tequila – South of the Border

At 2:45, South Carolina welcomed us and we saw the 100-foot-tall Pedro statue sporting a huge sombrero. We kept on driving.

Back Up – You Missed It!

We passed the Lynches River, Lynchburg and Shiloh — such southern (& racist) names.

We finally checked in to our Airbnb at 65 Vincent Drive, Mt. Pleasant, by 5:55. It was a very nice duplex in a huge yard in a quiet neighborhood.

my room in the Airbnb

Airbnb kitchen

After unpacking our stuff, we headed into the city of Charleston to Poogan’s Porch.

Poogan’s Porch

Sarah treated us to a bottle of wine, Poggio Torto: Toscana Rosso 2016, bringing back memories of Tuscany for both of us. She had gone to the region several years earlier than I had, with her father and stepmother and their family.

wine

fireplace in the dining area of Poogan’s Porch

Sarah at Poogan’s Porch

We shared an appetizer of fried pickled okra. I enjoyed Lump Crab Cakes, cream corn, local greens, and grilled asparagus with a lemon herb vinaigrette. Sarah had Pan-Roasted Duck Breast, “Country Captain” style rice, duck confit, tomatoes, golden raisins, bell peppers, almonds and curry broth. My crabcakes were excellent.

This is what I would love in Charleston, good southern home cooking. As my daughter is an avid foodie, we would try many eateries during our stay here.

Fried pickled okra

Lump Crab Cakes, creamed corn, asparagus and greens

Out on the street, the sky and palm trees imparted an otherworldly feel.

the street outside Poogan’s Porch

mural in the parking lot of Poogan’s Porch

We were tired after our long drive and our big dinner, so we went back to our cozy Airbnb to relax. Sarah introduced me to some of her favorite shows, but I didn’t care for some of them. She seemed offended that we didn’t share the same taste. One we finally settled on was This Is Us. This was the first time I’d seen this show, and I’m still watching it today.

The next day, we’d begin exploring Charleston.

*Drove: 455.8 miles. Steps: 3,234, or 1.37 miles*

*Monday, November 11, 2019*

tuscany: exploring siena

wanderessence1025 July 14, 2020

After Chef Mike cooked up his eggs Florentine (eggs with cheese and spinach) and plain toast, accompanied by peach juice and espresso, we were on our way to Siena. The forecast was for rain, so we took our raincoats and umbrellas despite the day’s auspicious partly-sunny beginnings. Actually, clouds scuttled across the sky, but I held on to my optimism through much of the day, until it actually started raining in Siena at 2:30.

We stopped along the way to take pictures of the beautiful farms lined with cypress trees.

cypress trees all lined up

Tuscan countryside

On the way into Siena, one of Italy’s best preserved medieval towns, we passed the huge Basilica of San Dominico, an imposing red brick box begun in 1226. Named for the founder of the Dominican order, it is now more closely associated with St. Catherine of Siena (1347-1380).

entering Siena

Basilica of San Dominico

Fiat in Siena

Siena’s streets

a cute little sconce

bicycle in Siena

We stopped first for coffee and croissants and then bought tickets for one of Italy’s finest Gothic churches, Siena’s Duomo, or Cathedral. It was completed in two brief phases at the end of the 13th and 14th centuries. Giovanni Pisano designed the white, green and red marble facade. Multicolored marbles and painted decoration seemed to be the Italian approach to Gothic architecture.

Duomo di Siena

The Duomo has a striking interior with black and white striped columns and a gilded dome. It holds the oldest example of stained glass in Italy (1288) in a circular window; the carousel pulpit, carved by Nicola Pisano in 1265, and Renaissance frescoes in the Biblioteca Piccolomini.

Duomo di Siena

Duomo di Siena

inside Duomo di Siena

Life of Virgin Mary Stained Glass, 1288, in Duomo di Siena

The Duomo is famous for its inlaid marble floors, which took nearly 200 years to complete. They include 56 separate compositions, including Biblical scenes, allegories, religious symbols, and civic emblems. These sorts of “Bible in images” were created between 1369 and 1547 to the designs of great painters such as Matteo di Giovanni and Dominico Beccafumi.

the Duomo’s inlaid marble floors

the Duomo’s inlaid marble floors

The interior was exquisite in many ways.

Duomo di Siena

We then went into the Museo dell’Opera, where we waited in line for a while to climb the tower inside the museum, the Panorama del Facciatone. They only allowed 28 people go up at a time as the stairway up was extremely narrow. People who climbed up were only allowed 15 minutes at the top.

View of Siena from the Panorama del Facciatone

View of Siena from the Panorama del Facciatone

View of Siena from the Museum

View of Siena from the Panorama del Facciatone

Mike in Siena

il Campo

me with il Campo in the background

We walked briefly through the Museo dell’Opera, which contains the Duomo’s treasury and some of the original decoration from its facade and interior.

The masterpiece at the museum was Duccio di Boninsegna’s Maestà (1308-1311). One side of the altarpiece had 26 panels showing episodes of the Passion, and the other side had a Madonna and Child Enthroned. Duccio’s Maestà set Italian painting on a course leading away from the representations of Byzantine art towards more direct presentations of reality.

The Maestà, or Maestà of Duccio

Also in the Museo dell’Opera:

Museo dell’Opera

We popped into the Battistero di San Giovanni, the Duomo’s 14th century Gothic Baptistery, built to prop up the apse of the cathedral. There were beautiful frescoes throughout. The highlight was the huge bronze 15th century baptismal font designed by Jacopo della Quercia (1374-1438).

Battistero di San Giovanni

After the Battistero, we went in search of lunch. We settled into a small outdoor cafe on a side street, Ristorante Le Campane, where I finally discovered one of the orange drinks I’d seen everywhere, Aperol Spritz, vino bianco secco e soda (dry white wine and soda).

streets of Siena

I was finally able to order the dish my daughter Sarah had recommended: Picio Cacio e pepe: Homemade Sienese pasta with black pepper and pecarino (ewe’s milk) cheese. Mike ordered a Pumpkin Velouté with sausage crumbles (a soup) and a side dish of spinach and Swiss chard.

Picio Cacio e pepe

Pumpkin Velouté

It was all yummy, and we relaxed at the cute outdoor cafe with greenery and flowers hugging the balcony. We thanked the waiter: “Va tutto benissimo, grazie,” or “Everything’s great, thank you.”

We strolled down to the Piazza del Campo, a fan-shaped sloping plaza simply known as il Campo (The Field). It was built toward the end of the 12th century and is the heart of the town. The focal point of the Piazza is Palazzo Pubblico, a Gothic building that has served as Siena’s town hall since the 1300s. Its distinctive bell tower, Torre del Mangia, completed in 1349, apparently offers superb views, but we didn’t climb.

On July 2 and August 16 of each year, the Palio, the famous horse race preceded by a splendid historical procession, takes place at il Campo.

il Campo and Palazzo Pubblico

il Campo

il Campo

It started raining at 2:30, so we headed toward our parked car. Our parking expired at 3:30, so on the way out of town, we dipped into a scarf shop. I would have bought two more Italian scarves, but the saleswoman reprimanded me for taking one of the €59 scarves off the rack and trying it on; she pointed to a sign written in Italian. I said, “I’m sorry, I don’t read Italian,” and she said she’d have to write it in every language to accommodate every tourist. As we were the only ones in the shop, she easily could have told us directly not to try on her scarves. It was ridiculous and I refused to patronize someone so unaccommodating and rude. There was no skin off my neck; I’d bought plenty of scarves already. 🙂

Siena

last view of Siena

Leaving Siena, we drove on to Monteriggioni.

*13,001 steps, or 5.51 miles*

Saturday, May 4, 2019*

“beauty of harmony” at the virginia museum of fine arts

wanderessence1025 July 12, 2020

After seeing the Edward Hopper exhibit at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in Richmond, VA on my way to Charleston, SC (on journey: an encounter with edward hopper on the way to charleston), I enjoyed an exhibit called Beauty of Harmony: Japanese Landscape Prints by Kawase Hasui. The exhibit of 13 woodblock prints displayed historical and religious landmarks in cities such as Tokyo, Kanazawa, Kyoto, and Nara, as well as countryside scenes.

Kawase Hasui (1883-1957) made a series of expeditions across Japan during his lifetime, sketching landscapes, cityscapes, and the nation’s historical and religious landmarks to prepare for his prints.

As I looked at these prints, I realized I had visited many of these places when I went to Kyoto in 2011, and when I was teaching English outside of Tokyo in 2017. Where I have pictures of the places from these prints, I have included them along with the print.

Kinkakuji Temple was first built as a villa in the late 14th century, but later was reconstructed as a Zen Buddhist temple in 1420. This print, created in 1922, captures the scene before a young monk burned down the three-story pavilion in 1950.

iKinkakuji Temple in Snow, from the Series Views of Japanese Scenery, 1922 by Kawase Hasui

Kinkakuji Temple, Kyoto, 2011

Kiiyomizu Temple, literally, “the temple of clear spring,” was built in the 8th century atop a small mountain on the eastern side of Kyoto, offering a bird’s-eye view of the city. Here, Hasui depicts a temple hall leading to a vast veranda, where a lonely woman holding an umbrella gazes beyond the foliage-covered hills.

Rain at Kiyomizu Temple, from the series Souvenirs of Travel II, 1921 by Kawase Hasui

Kiiyomizu Temple, Kyoto, 2011

This print illustrates a shaded empty lane, where a lone woman in a kimono walks away from the viewer, recalling the former glory of the area as a home for powerful feudal clans.

Shimobonda Town, Kanazawa, from the series Souvenirs of Travel II, 1921

Asano River is one of the largest rivers in Kanazawa. The first bridge over the river was built in 1594. This print illustrates a picturesque view of a single man walking across a bridge at sunset, while a flock of geese frolics in the water below. Two years after Hasui produced this print, a disastrous flood washed away the bridge.

Asano River in Kanazawa, from the series Souvenirs of Travel 1, 1920 by Kawase Hasui

Lake Ashinoko, which translates as “lake of reeds,” was formed about 3,000 years ago following a volcanic eruption at nearby Mount Hakone. It is one of Japan’s largest and most scenic lakes, surrounded by hot springs, temples, shrines, and villas. Lake Ashinoko offers the best views of Mount Fuji when the weather permits. In this print, Hasui illustrates a snow-capped Mount Fuji soaring between the hills, with cedar trees and a glimmering sky reflecting in the water while a fisherman sails across the lake.

The day was very overcast when I was there, so I sadly had no views of Mt. Fuji, although I was able to see it on another trip.

Lake Ashinoko in Hakone, 1935, by Kawase Hasui

Lake Ashinoko, Hakone, 2017

Kikyo Gate, from the series Twenty Views of Tokyo, 1929, by Kawase Hasui

Otemon Gate, the main entrance of the East Garden of the Imperial Palace in Tokyo, opened to the public in 1968. Located at the city’s center, the East Garden occupies 52 acres and features gardens, a pond and a castle. In this spring scene, Hasui illustrates the outside of Otemon Gate, showing the willow trees lining the sidewalk.

A Spring Evening at Otemon Gate, 1952, by Kawase Hasui

Otemon Gate, Imperial Palace, Tokyo 2017

The Meiji Shrine was built in 1921 in memory of Emperor Meiji (1852-1912) and Empress Shoken (1849-1914). Encompassing 170 acres, the shrine is known for its combination of forests and an iris garden. Here, Hasui depicts purple and white irises in the foreground and visitors strolling around the garden.

Iris Garden at Meiji Shrine, 1951 by Kawase Hasui

Iris garden (not blooming) at Meiji Shrine

In this print, Hasui illustrates the corner of Asakusa Temple, on the eastern side of Tokyo. We see a huge stone lantern, and women in kimonos gathering inside on a rainy morning. The intricate details, from vibrant umbrellas to blooming flowers and yellow trees, reveal the artist’s expertise in depicting seasonal variations.

Rainy Morning in Asakusa, 1930 by Kawaase Hasui

Clear Sky After Snow, Asakusa Kannon Temple, from the series Twenty Views of Tokyo, 1926

Asakusa Temple, Tokyo, 2017

Kasuga Shrine is a Shinto site built in the capital of Nara in the 8th century. According to Japanese mythology, a god of thunder traveled on a white deer to Nara, followed by several treasured gods now enshrined here. After 1,200 years, the building has remained the same, with its vermilion columns, white walls, dark cypress-bark roofs, and surrounding green trees. Wandering deer, who inhabit the shrine and the nearby mountains, are believed to be sacred messengers of Shinto gods (kami).

Kasuga Shrine in Nara, from the series Souvenirs of Travel II, 1921 by Kawase Hasui

Kasuga Shrine

deer of Nara

Rain in Nara (Tower of Kofukuji Temple), 1951 by Kawase Hasui

Tower of Kofukuji Temple, Nara, 2017

I saw a couple of other random pieces of art, then headed to my daughter’s house so we could leave for Charleston early the next morning.

Olpe (Pitcher), ca. 600 BC

Untitled (2004-7) by Jun Kaneko

Chloe, 2016, by Jaume Plensa

Robinson House

Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, Richmond, 2019

(All information came from plaques at the exhibit.)

*Steps: 5,740, or 2.43 miles*

*Sunday, November 10, 2019*

art journal spreads: bismarck to medora, north dakota

wanderessence1025 July 10, 2020

My travel journal was filling up, and I was less than halfway through my “Road Trip to Nowhere.” I tried to squeeze in Friday and Saturday, September 13 & 14, but sadly I couldn’t leave any free pages to do a journal spread later. I would have to move to a new journal on September 15. Instead of doing art spreads, I thought I’d just share my journal pages for those two days.

My pages for Friday, September 13, 2019 cover my trip from Bismarck, North Dakota to Gladstone and the Enchanted Highway and onward to Dickinson and Watford City, ND.

Travel journal for September 13, 2019

Journal spread for September 13, 2019

Travel journal for September 13, 2019

Travel journal for September 13, 2019

My pages for Saturday, September 14, 2019 cover my trip from Watford City, ND. to Fort Union Trading Post National Historic Site, on to the North Unit of Theodore Roosevelt National park, and finally to Medora, North Dakota.

Travel journal for September 14, 2019

I filled up my first journal, and I still would be traveling from September 15-October 4. It turned out I would fill up two more journals. 🙂

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“ART JOURNAL” INVITATION: I invite you to post a journal spread on your own blog about your travels. You can do collage, watercolor, acrylics, stamps, drawing or stencils — whatever art form your heart desires. These are my first art journal spreads and drawings, so I can only hope I’ll become more creative as I practice and play. I invite you to do the same!

One of my intentions for my “Road Trip to Nowhere” in September of 2019 was to “Make art journal spreads for each state (Nebraska, South Dakota, North Dakota, Wyoming, and Colorado) through collage, drawing or collecting items.” I’m having so much fun with this that I’ve decided to make a journal spread for each day of my journey.

If you’d like some ideas on creating an art journal, please see my page: on creating art from travels. I actually don’t have many ideas yet, but I hope to add more as I experiment with different art forms. Also, I would love to see any great ideas from the artists out there. Feel free to add a link to your own blog if you do bullet or travel journals of your own.

Include the link in the comments below by Thursday, August 6 at 1:00 p.m. EST. When I write my post in response to this challenge on Friday, August 7, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation, once on the second Friday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community. I promise, you’ll be inspired!

Pauline, of Living in Paradise…, creates some magnificent art journals, using sketching and watercolor, from her travels.
- Art Journal Memories – New Zealand.

Thanks to all of you who shared posts on the “art journal spreads” invitation.

a glimpse of iran at the sackler gallery

wanderessence1025 July 9, 2020

One Sunday in October of last year, we went to the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, part of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Asian Art, in D.C. to see an exhibit titled “My Iran: Six Women Photographers.”

Public perceptions of Iran over the last 40 years have been shaped by the upheaval of the Islamic Revolution in 1978-79, when the country’s social and cultural traditions were dramatically transformed.

The works of six female photographers, from the 1970s to the present, offer a complicated and deeply personal view of the country of their birth. Whether created inside or outside of Iran, the carefully staged, often cinematic, images are about memory, loss, and exile, but also about hope. These women acknowledge the past and challenge the present to shed light on their identity as artists, while also offering nuanced interpretations of their Iran.

Hengameh Golestan, along with her husband Kaveh, was one of the photographers who documented the early March 1979 protests that erupted in Tehran after Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini issued a decree requiring all women to wear the chador (veil) in public. Her images capture both the last day Iranian women were in the streets without head coverings and the first widespread protest since Khomeini’s return. In these photos, she poignantly conveys the short-lived sense of excitement, solidarity, and optimism that permeated the first months of the Iranian Revolution.

From the series Witness 1979 by Hengameh Golestan

From the series Witness 1979 by Hengameh Golestan

Malekeh Nayiny was born in Tehran and has lived and worked in the West since 1979.

Red Cloth references her father’s profession as a physician. The photo evokes a sense of care and comfort but also anxiety and suffering, a range of emotions that Nayiny associates with her life before and after leaving Iran.

Red Cloth from the series Sketches of a Fractured Song by Malekeh Nayiny

In Nayiny’s series, Updating a Family Album, Nayiny scanned photographs of her family members taken in the early 20th century. By “updating” them and digitally adding color and patterns, Nayiny also lends whimsy to the photos.

Untitled from the series Updating a Family Album by Malekeh Nayiny

Untitled from the series Updating a Family Album by Malekeh Nayiny

Untitled from the series Updating a Family Album by Malekeh Nayiny

Mitra Tabrizian creates stages cinematic photos that convey a sense of alienation and stillness. Her Border series focuses on Iranians in exile. The photos suggest a state of physical and emotional limbo.

In one photograph, a man stands near an open door, staring into the distance. A former soldier in Iran’s Imperial Army, he now works as a mechanic outside of London. He is separated both physically and emotionally from a younger male figure and a wrecked car in the background.

A Deadly Affair From the series Border by Mitra Tabrizian

In the next photo, a woman dressed in black stares directly at the camera. She seems to have been in that quiet pose for days. Her small suitcase stands in front of a closed door, a symbol of her memories and conflicting desires perhaps to leave or return home.

A Long Wait from the series Border by Mitra Tabrizian

Gohar Dashti draws on her recollections of growing up during the Iran-Iraq War (1980-88). The clusters of people in her series Iran, Untitled are similarly isolated from the world. Here too, the figures are shown with small suitcases, an emblem of their memories and desires.

from the series Iran, Untitled by Gohar Dashti

Works by Gohar Dashti are dramatically composed scenes infused with anxiety and uncertainty. In her recent series Home, she photographed hundreds of plants arranged in abandoned buildings. Even when neglected and forgotten, nature thrives here, confirming the persistence of life and hope for a better future.

Untitled from the series Home by Gohar Dashti

Untitled from the series Home by Gohar Dashti

(All information is from plaques at the exhibit.)

On the way out of the museum, we encountered the Buddha in a Buddhist temple.

Encountering the Buddha

As we returned to our car, we came upon a drum group, Batalá Washington, an all-women Afro-Brazilian band that plays Samba-Reggae rhythms. It was quite a lively performance.

Batalá Washington

On our way home, we stopped at Luzmila’s Bolivian Restaurant for a lunch of Sopa de Mani, or peanut soup, Choclo, or white corn cob, and empañadas. It wasn’t very good, except for the empañadas.

me at Luzmila’s Bolivian Restaurant

Luzmila’s Bolivian Restaurant

*October 19, 2019*

on returning home from ethiopia in 2012

wanderessence1025 July 6, 2020

My journey to Ethiopia, on my 57th birthday, began at just after midnight on October 25, with a drive from Nizwa to Muscat, Oman. I dressed in an outfit appropriate to Africa, in coral and brown and olive-green: “safari clothes” with a pop of color. No safari was planned, but, oh well. The corduroy of the olive-green jacket would hopefully keep me warm in the cool land of Ethiopia, a land where temperatures hover around 70 degrees Fahrenheit (21 Celsius) every day of the year.

Other colleagues from the University of Nizwa were on this trip, though we were traveling separately. Gail was looking for Armenian connections in Addis Ababa. Talib and Chantal had planned an ambitious trip to far-fetched places in the country. Their itinerary included ten-hour bus rides with their daughter in tow! Chantal’s Jamaican origins led her on a quest to discover the Jamaica-Ethiopia connection based on Emperor Haile Selassie (previously Prince Ras Tafari) and the Rastafarians of Jamaica. Being Muslims, they were both especially interested in Harar, an important center of Islamic scholarship in the 17th and 18th centuries. Here Islam penetrated the Horn of Africa.

We took off at 4:50 a.m., flying for 3 1/2 hours, arriving over Ethiopia in the morning light. The landscape from the air was like a rumpled patchwork quilt of golds and greens: mountains, valleys, plateaus and grids of farmland. I wasn’t expecting this of Ethiopia. Stunning.

Gail and me at the airport

Flying into Addis Ababa

First day in Addis Ababa

At the airport, my friend Ed, who was on his second year of duty at the U.S. Embassy in Addis Ababa, was waiting for me. I left my colleagues to follow their own itineraries. It was around 8 a.m. I had a whole day ahead of me in Addis Ababa, the capital city of Ethiopia that means “New Flower.”

Ed thought I would be tired, so he didn’t plan to do much on this first day. He suggested I sleep while he went to work. Taking his advice, I slept until about 1:00. Then I puttered around, read my guidebook, drank tea at the patio table, and killed time taking pictures of what was probably a typical Embassy house.

I took a walk in the neighborhood past an Ethiopian school as it was letting out. Dark skinned children in sky blue sweaters swarmed out of the school. I walked through them to a German bakery, where I ordered a cappuccino and a chocolate croissant and sat on the patio.

Once Ed returned from work, we went out to Yod Abyssinia, an authentic Ethiopian restaurant that served foods from the various ethnic groups in the country. The night was cool and crisp, and the neighborhood’s middle class houses stood silently around us, bounded by concrete walls topped with curled barbed wire. Many houses had round-the-clock guards sitting in little guard houses within the gates.

The restaurant was packed with people of every nationality. Especially evident were the Chinese, who apparently had numerous building projects in Ethiopia, including a ring road around Addis Ababa.

We arrived at the restaurant in the middle of song and dance performances. The Oromo, the Tigrigna, Gurage, the Amhara and other Ethiopian ethnic groups’ dances and music were included in the nightly live performance. The performance was energetic and lively and the music had a fun African beat. Some of the dancers moved so fast, their arms and legs looked like a blur.

Yod Abyssinia served more than 35 varieties of local dishes comprising fasting food (made of an array of vegetables) and non-fasting foods (meats). Various type of wat, or stew, from beef and lamb, doro wot (spicy chicken stew, a rare delicacy in Ethiopia), and tibs, roasted meat, were on the menu. All of the stews and sauces were served on injera, a spongy pancake made of a local grain called tef. We ordered a sample of all of the above, as well as messer, a lentil curry made with onions, chilies and various spices, and a kale dish. In addition, we were served up neat rolls of injera that looked like napkin rolls. We tore the injera into pieces and used the bread as a kind of utensil to pick up bites of the various dishes. They were delicious!

It was such a fun evening for my birthday! It made up for my long day of waiting around and doing nothing. The meal was Ed’s treat and when we returned to his house, he served up a piece of banana bread with a candle on it. Luckily I didn’t have trouble blowing out the one candle, which would have been quite pathetic! He gave me a sweet gift of a delicate monkey necklace made of coconut shell that he picked up on a recent trip to Rodrigues Island in Mauritius.

Happy birthday to me in the land of Abyssinia. 🙂

wandering around Addis Ababa

mural in Addis Ababa

Ed’s Embassy house

Yod Abyssinia

menu at Yod Abyssinia

Yod Abyssinia

me with Ed

washing our hands

our meal is served

Injera and vegetables

Yod Abyssinia

Here is a clip of the live performance if you’d like to watch the Ethiopian dancers in action!

Here’s another:

Lalibela

Friday, October 26: For the second day in a row, I was up early to catch a 7:40 a.m. flight. We left Addis Ababa for Lalibela in the north of Ethiopia. Locals had told us the drive to Lalibela took several days because the roads were not good. Lucky for us, our flight was only an hour.

After getting off the plane, we drove through the countryside to reach Lalibela, passing fields of tef, the grain used to make the spongy Ethiopian bread called injera. We saw the Mesket Escarpment, where multi-day trekking tours could be arranged. Children herded a menagerie of sheep, goats, donkeys and cows along the dusty road, amidst agricultural fields and tukuls, Ethiopian traditional cylindrical huts with cone-shaped roofs. Men, boys, and children carried crops on their heads.

After settling in briefly at the Mountain View Hotel Lalibela, we went out to explore the rock-hewn churches of the town. These churches are important in the history of rock-cut architecture. Though the exact dates they were carved are not certain, most are thought to have been built during the reign of King Lalibela, a member of the Zagwe Dynasty, during the 12th and 13th centuries.

plane to Lalibela

driving to Lalibela

Mesket Escarpment

driving to Lalibela

Mountain View Hotel Lalibela

view from Mountain View Hotel Lalibela

Lalibela was an important place of Ethiopian Christianity, still a place of pilgrimage and devotion. The churches were a UNESCO World Heritage Site. UNESCO had built rather unsightly scaffolding and roofing over many of the churches to protect their interior frescoes from water seepage, a necessary evil.

According to UNESCO, the churches were hewn from the living rock of monolithic blocks. These blocks were further chiseled out, forming doors, windows, columns, various floors, roofs etc. This gigantic work was further completed with an extensive system of drainage ditches, trenches and ceremonial passages, some with openings to hermit caves and catacombs.

Four of the churches were finished as completely free-standing structures, attached to their mother rock only at their bases. The remaining churches ranged from semi-detached to ones whose facades were the only features that had been ‘liberated’ from the rock.

Our guide was Masala, a young Ethiopian man who grew up in the village. He was kind and conveyed so many tidbits of knowledge that I was happy we had him along.

Every time we entered a church, we had to leave our shoes outside. We had a shoe minder who followed us to each of the churches, where he sat outside and “minded” our shoes. He glowed with love and each time, as I struggled with untying and tying my tennis shoes, he helped me put them back on my feet.

We first visited the northern group of churches. Bet Medhane Alem (Savior of the World), was said to be the largest rock-hewn church in the world. Our guide showed us three empty graves in one corner, prepared for Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Cross-shaped panels pierced the walls. This church held the legendary 7kg gold Lalibela cross, but we weren’t afforded a glimpse of it.

After putting our shoes back on, we proceeded through a passageway cut into solid rock to Bet Maryam, possibly the oldest of the Lalibela churches. Bet Maryam was small, but decorated to the hilt with paintings, frescoes, and intricate carvings on the walls and ceilings. The church was dedicated to the Virgin Mary, who was particularly respected in Ethiopia, and was the most popular church among pilgrims.

On the northern wall, we saw what looked like a Nazi swastika, but our guide Masala assured us this symbol went in the opposite direction of the swastika and was in reality an ancient Christian symbol showing that Christ’s love goes out in every direction, to all corners of the earth.

Bet Meskel and Bet Danaghel, a semi-chapel and chapel, sat on either side of Bet Maryam like two dwarf sentinels.

We walked through another passageway cut into solid rock to Bet Mikael, where we came upon a group of men dressed in white, chanting, beating on drums, and burning incense. They were in the midst of a church service which was beyond my understanding. The men seemed suspended in some mystical, ethereal world, dressed as they were and enveloped in a haze of incense smoke and streaming sunlight. We stood, enraptured by them for quite some time, amazed that we happened upon this holy ceremony.

Bet Medhane Alem

the chapel of Bet Danaghel

Bet Maryam

inside Bet Maryam

a chanting service in Bet Mikael

a painting in Bet Mikael

a chanting service in Bet Mikael

outside of Bet Uraiel

the “Tomb of Adam”

Me, Ed and a Lalibelan woman pose in front of the Tomb of Adam

We left the northern group of Lalibela churches and headed through the preserved tukul village known as Hadish Adi. The site was protected so that visitors could see the round thatch-roofed homes inside and out.

As we walked through the village, we caught sight of a column of white-clad worshipers traipsing through the tukul village, probably after attending the chanting service we witnessed at Bet Mikael.

According to a 2010 Mission Report by UNESCO, the traditional housing of Lalibela is characterized by two main types of buildings: the circular one-story tukul houses (ground and one floor), with external staircases leading to the upper level and the rectangular one-story residences (ground and one floor). The walls are built of stone laid in mud mortar. The interior surfaces of the walls are often plastered with a rich mix of earth, straw and cow dung. The earth is mixed with straw from the teff plant (Eragrostis tef) and the mixture is applied to the wall after undergoing necessary processing.

Our guide Masala told us that he grew up with his seven siblings in one of the tukuls; he led us to his childhood home. He happily posed for a photo in front of the house where he “spent the happiest years of his life.”

We found a little open air hut where an artist was painting scrolls in the Lalibela style. I couldn’t help but buy one. I loved the symbolic style and color of these painted scrolls.

While we browsed through the scrolls, a large group of boys surrounded us and asked if we would buy them a football (soccer ball to Americans) for 500 Ethiopian birr (about $28). They said they were a sports team called Team Obama and they really NEEDED a new ball. However, we had been warned not to give children any money in Ethiopia because it only enticed them to stay out of school. Apparently, a common ploy was to ask tourists for soccer balls or school books, which the children might even buy in the tourist’s presence. As soon as the generous victim’s back was turned, the children returned the books or balls to the shopkeeper for cash.

tukuls

a column of worshipers leaves the Lalibela church of Bet Mikael

tukuls

Masala at his childhood home

tukuls

an artist paints scrolls at Lalibela

scrolls in Lalibela

tukuls

As we walked down the gravelly and dusty hill from the tukul village to the western group of churches, the gravel slipped out from under my feet and I crashed to the ground, my right knee collapsing under me like a jackknife. I couldn’t stop the barrage of unladylike words that sprang out of my mouth. Three years earlier, I had had a partial knee replacement in my right knee, and it seemed whenever I fell, that was the knee that snapped. When I fell today, it hurt like hell! I thought I had seriously damaged it.

Masala and Ed pulled me up. After dusting myself off and shaking it out, I found my limbs appeared to be intact. I was in pain but seemed to be okay. Ethiopia, and especially Lalibela, was not a place where I would want to have a medical emergency!

We continued down the hill to Bet Giyorgis, the most spectacular of all the Lalibela churches. For one, it was perfectly formed in the shape of a Greek cross. It was 15 meters (49 feet) high, carved out of a deep trench, and was the best preserved of the churches. Because it was well-preserved, it lacked the obtrusive and unsightly UNESCO roof and scaffolding that most of the other churches had.

Carved from solid red volcanic rock in the 12th century, it was the most well-known and last built of the eleven churches in the Lalibela area. Legend has it that Ethiopia’s patron saint, Saint George, unexpectedly came to visit King Lalibela on a white horse, just as the King was finishing off his churches. St. George was a little peeved that none of the churches were dedicated to him. King Lalibela immediately sought to make amends by building St. George the most beautiful church of all, Bet Giyorgis, which means Church of Saint George.

Inside were colorful paintings, a priest, and two 800-year-old olive-wood boxes: one was rumored to have been carved by King Lalibela himself and was said to contain a crucifix, made with gold brought from King Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem.

Masala told me I could ask the priest to wave his cross over me for healing. I asked him to do so, and he waved the cross all around my knees, and then all over my body for healing. Ed had him wave the cross over him too, for general back pain. We tipped him several Ethiopian birr.

Bet Giyorgis

me at Bet Giyorgis

Bet Giyorgis

local at Bet Giyorgis

Bet Giyorgis

Bet Giyorgis from the hilltop above

After lunch at the Mountain View Hotel, we headed out again with Masala to the southeastern group of Lalibela churches. On the way, Masala pointed out The River Jordan and Mount Tabor, named after Jerusalem’s holy sites.

We entered Bet Gabriel-Rufael from the top of the church, walking over a rock-carved bridge that crossed a deep trench. Scholars thought this church might have been a fortified palace for Aksumite royalty in the 7th and 8th centuries. The monumental facade was the most interesting thing about this church.

We made our way through a pitch-black tunnel, which Masala likened to the experience of descending into hell. We emerged into light (likened to heaven) into Bet Merkorios, which some say may have once been the town’s prison. This is because of ankle shackles found within the church. Inside was a fresco representing the three wise men, possibly created in the 15th century.

The freestanding Bet Amanuel was a finely-carved church and may have been the royal family’s private chapel.

Finally, we visited Bet Abba Libanos, a hypogeous church. This meant it was under the earth’s surface. In fact, the church was attached to rock at the top and bottom. Legend said it was built overnight by Lalibela’s wife with the help of a few angels. It seemed to grow sandwiched between slabs of rock.

After leaving the Lalibela churches, we headed back to our rooms, where I took a little nap. Then we went up to the terrace for a bottle of Ethiopian wine: Gonder, produced in Addis Ababa. We ran into some colleagues of Ed’s from the embassy and chatted with them a bit. We sat and enjoyed the sunset and the wine over the beautiful valley of Lalibela. Dinner followed at the Mountain View Hotel, which was not at all memorable.

tukuls

The River Jordan in Lalibela

Bet Gabriel-Rufael

shoes to be minded

Bet Gabriel-Rufael

Bet Amanuel

me with a priest at Bet Amanuel

Bet Abba Libanos

leaving the Lalibela churches

the view of the Lalibela valley from our hotel as the sun is setting

me at Mountain View Hotel Lalibela

sunset from Mountain View Hotel Lalibela

Lalibela’s Saturday Market

Saturday, October 27: I woke up feeling sick, with severe cramps and a wicked headache, as well as general malaise. I blamed the malaria medication I was taking. At the advice of doctors in Nizwa, I was to begin one medication on Thursday, upon arrival in Ethiopia, which I did. However, on Friday, I was supposed to take another medication, and then switch back on Saturday to the first medication. Whatever they gave me for Friday obviously had some bad side effects, as I woke in the middle of the night feeling horrible.

I couldn’t eat breakfast. As Ed ate a delicious-looking omelet, I just sat and nibbled on some plain toast. He asked if I wanted to skip our visit to the Lalibela Saturday market, but how could I? I loved local markets and I couldn’t bear the thought of missing it. So I told him I wanted to go. We had a flight back to Addis Ababa at 12:45. I would just put one foot in front of the other and visit the market.

The market was spread out over a big dirt area in the middle of the town. The villagers had set up tarps or temporary stalls made of eucalyptus poles and textiles. Some just sat under umbrellas to hide from the sun. Some people spread out their grains, vegetables or textiles on tarps or blankets on the ground. It was hot, dusty and chaotic.

People were selling everything imaginable from firewood to salt blocks. Salt was a precious commodity for people and their animals, and was even used as a kind of currency, according to Lonely Planet Ethiopia & Eritrea. Nomads and their camels, even today, travel to the salt lakes in the Danakil Depression in eastern Ethiopia, where they cut by hand rectangular blocks of salt, known as amole, and then spend weeks traveling by caravan to market, where they barter using the bars.

We saw these salt blocks for sale, along with teff. The low quality teff was dark and course, while the more expensive, high-quality teff was pale and smooth.

Also for sale were dried peppers, cabbages, onions, peas and lentils, whole wheat, collard greens and numerous other grains and greens. We also found traditional clothing, colorful textiles and blankets, live chickens, and long eucalyptus poles used for construction.

People came from miles around, mostly on foot, to the Saturday market. The lucky ones had donkeys to carry their goods, but most people carried their goods on their backs or their heads. It was amazing even after we left the market how we passed hordes of people heading to the market from miles and miles away.

The rest of the day, I felt miserable. We caught our plane to Addis Ababa, but we had to endure an extra hour flight as the plane made a stop in Gonder. When we arrived back in Addis, I took a bath and a long nap. I decided to stop taking the malaria medication. I would take my chances. The next day, we would head to Lake Langano, about three hours south of Addis by car. I didn’t want to be sick for that trip!

Lalibela’s Saturday market

tukuls

Lalibela’s Saturday market

Drive to Lake Langano

Sunday, October 28: We woke up early for our 3-hour drive to Lake Langano, south of Addis Ababa. I felt better, after being sick all day yesterday. I think it was because I discontinued that malaria medicine and it was finally clearing out of my system.

Once we escaped the crowds, dirt, and poverty that swarmed around us in Addis, we emerged into beautiful countryside full of acacia trees, tukul huts that rose naturally out of the land, and undulating hills in a patchwork of greens and golds. I fell in love with Africa.