With all the exciting travel I've been doing (not to mention the time wasted updating my facebook status), I'm surprised at the amount of time I've had to read. It has been really wonderful. Since I last updated this list in February (when I was still in southeast Asia), I've made quite a dent in the Kindle downloads (I still prefer physical books, but this trip was made possible in part by Kindle, so credit where credit is due). Here we go:
Animal's People (read this in India, and despite the amazing reviews, hated every minute of it)
His Majesty's Dragon, Throne of Jade and Black Powder War, by Naomi Novik (who knew fiction set during the Napeolonic wars featuring aerial squads comprised of dragons, their captains and their crews could be so ridiculously good?)
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (so good, I have no idea why it took me so long to get to this one)
Count of Monte Cristo (which I saved for France and loved every second of, despite -- or perhaps because of -- its length)
Earth Logic, Water Logic and Fire Logic (from the elemental logic series): I'm not normally a sci-fi/fantasy kind of girl, but these were incredibly well-written and awfully good reading
An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination (very sad memoir by author Elizabeth McCracken about her pregnancy with first child, who died in her womb days before she was scheduled to deliver)
Fellow Travelers (why do all of the books I buy have a tendency to make me cry at least once while reading? maybe I should switch to a diet of history and David Sedaris)
Getting Stoned with Savages (saved this for Tonga, although I avoided the kava - this guy is very funny)
Gods Behaving Badly (silly, entertaining enough but not particularly well-written)
Heart Like Water (about New Orleans immediately before Katrina and in the weeks after. This is a subject I care about, written in a way that at times made me not care at all, for which I lay blame at the feet of the author)
In Defense of Food (which has convinced me to join a food co-op, start getting all my vegetables through a CSA, plant a window herb garden, and avoid nearly all packaged foods -- I look forward to getting back to the US and putting these things into practice)
Innocent Traitor (who doesn't love Lady Jane Grey?)
Mistress of the Sun (also a book for France; not great, but historical fiction has its place)
Olive Kitteridge (fine, but nothing special)
Say You're One of Them (more reading for Africa, not one of my favorites)
Shattered Dreams: My Life as a Polygamist's Wife (I don't know if fun is the right word for this, but I learned quite a bit and will never watch Big Love in quite the same way again. Did you know that fundamentalist mormons get to be gods when they die -- provided they get at least 7 wives and 50 kids -- and they each get a planet to populate. Wild stuff.)
Solitaire (sci-fi set in a not too distant future with a weird corporate twist. Interesting.)
Space Between Us (reading for India which definitely helped me understand better what was going on around me, class-wise)
The Sparrow (wow, I really, really loved this book. It's a weird mix of Jesuit politics and sci-fi. The writing was amazing. The story was amazing. Maybe I won't feel this way in a month, but at the moment, I think the book is brilliant.)
Teach Like Your Hair's On Fire (I wish this guy would come teach at the school I'll be starting...)
They Poured Fire on Us from the Sky/What is the What: both about the Sudanese Lost Boys, the first is entirely non-fiction, while the second is called a novel largely because Dave Eggers did the writing and the narrator would have been to young to recall/reconstruct many of the earlier events in the book. The two books are very consistent and totally depressing.
I am currently rereading all of Jane Austen, a fitting way to spend my time in England (especially my visit to Bath, which has forced me to reread Northanger Abbey, something I would not do in other circumstances). I started with Persuasion, went on to Mansfield Park (and was reminded again that Fanny Price is perhaps my least favorite of Jane Austen's heroines), and am now suffering through Northanger Abbey (whose frequent references to Mysteries of Udolpho make me long to be reading that instead).
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Capetown Revisited
The post is so short, I realize that the whole things are still crappy after apartheid thing must have taken a lot out of me. So I'm supplementing.
There were some goof bits. For one thing, I had the chance to hang out with the friend I was staying with (a friend from college I hadn't seen in quite a while and hadn't spent so much time with for 16 years). Being a writer, he spends a lot of time at home, and is fortunate enough to have a lovely apartment with views of Lion's Head and Table Mountain (the two best known mountains in Cape Town). So on the days it wasn't totally misty (and there were quite a few of those days), there were amazing views to be had without ever leaving the apartment.
I think I didn't mention my friend sooner because he has been the first (and so far only) person I've encountered who has thought that my education reform idea (public boarding schools for the poor) is a bad idea. Who knows? Maybe it is a bad idea (I don't think so, but opinions can differ, and I'm sure there are people who think boarding schools in general are a bad idea, or that the poor are simply uneducatable and that the best we can hope is that they will stay out of our neighborhoods and stay out of trouble). But it's a little disheartening to be shot down by a friend, especially about the thing you've decided to dedicate your life to, and it probably made me less likely to love Cape Town. Not that I was faced with any self-doubt, of course: my decision to pursue a doctorate in education and get involved in public education reform is one of the few things in my life of which I've felt completely sure.
So, with the air cleared, I can recall some other highlights of my time in South Africa. The movies: I hadn't been to a movie theatre since March (once, to see Milk), so that was exciting enough on its own. As a bonus, we went to a show I had ridiculously low expectations of (allowing me to be pleasantly surprised): I Love You Man. Really funny.
The aquarium: I should do this more. Looking at random sea creatures is really, really cool. My favorites: the jellyfish, possibly, because they're just so beautiful and creepy. Sadly, because I don't go to the aquarium enough in the US, I have no idea how many of the things I saw don't even exist in North American waters. I see a trip to the aquarium in Boston in my future this summer...
Table Mountain: the ride up (cable car with a rotating floor so that everyone gets a 360 degree view of the ascent and descent) was cool. But the top was totally freezing (at any rate, the outdoor seating area for lunch was). Table Mountain avoided being as amazing as planned for two basic reasons: (1) the cloud cover was so bad (cold front moving in) that the view of the city, the ocean and the surrounding mountains was severely obstructed and (2) it was turning into winter, meaning that all of the amazing flowers were no-shows. There are apparently more varieties of flora on Table Mountain than in all of England. Not that you'd know it, looking around the brush.
Wine touring: amazing. Not only were the wines great, but the wineries and landscape were ridiculously beautiful. And the other people in the group were surprisingly cool. My favorites: two Japanese friends in their 50s (giving me the chance to use my increasingly rusty Japanese) and an older English couple currently living in a tiny mountain town in Spain (the husband is a sculptor). It's funny, this wine tasting thing: I can drink pretty atrocious wine with just a few complaints, but my palate is still managing to become more discerning... which I guess just means that I'm more aware of when I'm drinking really bad stuff.
Cape tour: this had the promise to be the best thing of the trip (better than the wine tour, definitely better than the highly upsetting township tour). Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate, and most of the beauties of the Cape were seen through sheets of really cold rain. Even so, the penguins (although I have to confess that I liked the penguins at the aquarium with their festive head gear better than the penguins in the wild) and the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens were pretty great. Added bonus: I ran into the Japanese women again on a boat (in terribly choppy water) to see the seals. Freakiest people: a Brazilian couple in their 30s who made out and groped each other the entire trip. At one point, I couldn't help myself, and asked if they were newlyweds. It turned out that, while not married, they'd been together for five years and had a three year old kid back home. I guess they're lucky that the magic hasn't gone out of the relationship. Yet. Or maybe she's just anxious to get a ring on that finger...
There were some goof bits. For one thing, I had the chance to hang out with the friend I was staying with (a friend from college I hadn't seen in quite a while and hadn't spent so much time with for 16 years). Being a writer, he spends a lot of time at home, and is fortunate enough to have a lovely apartment with views of Lion's Head and Table Mountain (the two best known mountains in Cape Town). So on the days it wasn't totally misty (and there were quite a few of those days), there were amazing views to be had without ever leaving the apartment.
I think I didn't mention my friend sooner because he has been the first (and so far only) person I've encountered who has thought that my education reform idea (public boarding schools for the poor) is a bad idea. Who knows? Maybe it is a bad idea (I don't think so, but opinions can differ, and I'm sure there are people who think boarding schools in general are a bad idea, or that the poor are simply uneducatable and that the best we can hope is that they will stay out of our neighborhoods and stay out of trouble). But it's a little disheartening to be shot down by a friend, especially about the thing you've decided to dedicate your life to, and it probably made me less likely to love Cape Town. Not that I was faced with any self-doubt, of course: my decision to pursue a doctorate in education and get involved in public education reform is one of the few things in my life of which I've felt completely sure.
So, with the air cleared, I can recall some other highlights of my time in South Africa. The movies: I hadn't been to a movie theatre since March (once, to see Milk), so that was exciting enough on its own. As a bonus, we went to a show I had ridiculously low expectations of (allowing me to be pleasantly surprised): I Love You Man. Really funny.
The aquarium: I should do this more. Looking at random sea creatures is really, really cool. My favorites: the jellyfish, possibly, because they're just so beautiful and creepy. Sadly, because I don't go to the aquarium enough in the US, I have no idea how many of the things I saw don't even exist in North American waters. I see a trip to the aquarium in Boston in my future this summer...
Table Mountain: the ride up (cable car with a rotating floor so that everyone gets a 360 degree view of the ascent and descent) was cool. But the top was totally freezing (at any rate, the outdoor seating area for lunch was). Table Mountain avoided being as amazing as planned for two basic reasons: (1) the cloud cover was so bad (cold front moving in) that the view of the city, the ocean and the surrounding mountains was severely obstructed and (2) it was turning into winter, meaning that all of the amazing flowers were no-shows. There are apparently more varieties of flora on Table Mountain than in all of England. Not that you'd know it, looking around the brush.
Wine touring: amazing. Not only were the wines great, but the wineries and landscape were ridiculously beautiful. And the other people in the group were surprisingly cool. My favorites: two Japanese friends in their 50s (giving me the chance to use my increasingly rusty Japanese) and an older English couple currently living in a tiny mountain town in Spain (the husband is a sculptor). It's funny, this wine tasting thing: I can drink pretty atrocious wine with just a few complaints, but my palate is still managing to become more discerning... which I guess just means that I'm more aware of when I'm drinking really bad stuff.
Cape tour: this had the promise to be the best thing of the trip (better than the wine tour, definitely better than the highly upsetting township tour). Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate, and most of the beauties of the Cape were seen through sheets of really cold rain. Even so, the penguins (although I have to confess that I liked the penguins at the aquarium with their festive head gear better than the penguins in the wild) and the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens were pretty great. Added bonus: I ran into the Japanese women again on a boat (in terribly choppy water) to see the seals. Freakiest people: a Brazilian couple in their 30s who made out and groped each other the entire trip. At one point, I couldn't help myself, and asked if they were newlyweds. It turned out that, while not married, they'd been together for five years and had a three year old kid back home. I guess they're lucky that the magic hasn't gone out of the relationship. Yet. Or maybe she's just anxious to get a ring on that finger...
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Paris, Chartres and Versailles: I Re-Enter the Developed World
Let me preface this by saying that I started learning French as a little girl, via my aunt's imparting to me some of the knowledge she gained in her French lessons, and ended the summer I turned 13, in an intensive summer language program (10 hours a week, maybe not all that intensive, but still quite a bit). As a child, I was considered quite good. But, this was nearly a quarter of a century ago, and my memory (although impressive) is not perfect.
So, I arrived in Paris in early May, on a very grey day, having been en route for nearly 24 hours (a long wait at the Cape Town airport, a long flight to Dubai, an even longer wait in the Dubai airport, and finally, CDG). As a result, I was too tired and lazy to take the (cheap) Air France shuttle bus into the city and try to figure out where my hotel was. Instead, I opted for an over-priced cab (the shame).
The hotel: small but beautiful. I kind of loved my little room, with its red doors with black trim. It made me very happy, as did the sparkling clean bathroom which I used for daily bubble baths (yes, I feel guilty for not conserving water, but it rained for at least part of every day -- or threatened to, anyway -- so I think it will be okay).
So, Paris was beautiful but a little lonely. My French (as noted above) is not stellar, and my developing world traveling attire made me feel less than confident with that limited French. I think every server in Paris probably hated me, not because I was a non-French speaker, but because I mumbled the French I did speak because I thought they were going to be mad at me (which they were). I also felt slightly bullied into buying aperitifs I may have otherwise skipped, in an anticipatory move to appease their anger. Either that, or I just really wanted kir royales...
Angry French people aside, I managed fairly well (except at the post office, where I had to send something to the US overnight and think there may have been problems, unfortunate given the expense, and even more unfortunate because the package had forms for reimbursement). I made my way through the Metro (not difficult, I know, with the exception of my being very particular about the exit I used at Charles de Gaulle Etoile) and familiarized myself with some of the train stations (although not the random punching holes in your own ticket thing). And I bought stinky cheese from the supermarket and baguettes from the boulangerie near the hotel. I didn't speak with a soul (with the exception of an education professor from Baltimore that I happened to meet on the train platform from Chartres to Paris), but other than that, everything was great.
Chartres: pretty, as expected. I liked, but did not love, the cathedral. I think I just don't know enough about large church-like structures to be a good judge, because the one I liked best (which I visited in Toulouse) is not nearly as well-known, and isn't even the best of its kind in Toulouse. Oh well. Had a very nice lunch (got the menu du jour, had no idea what it was, and ended up with a surprisingly nice warm potato salad with herring on a bed of bitter salad greens). Note to self: translate words you don't know before placing your order.
Versailles: hmmm. I know everyone goes here, and I figure it's important to have checked it off my list. That said, I could have skipped it without any qualms. The gardens are, admittedly, pretty, but by the time I got to the gardens, I was so sick of all the other tourists, and my feet were killing me, so I took a look and decided to get out. Fortunately, I have pictures to remind me of my happy hours there at Versailles. Also, I don't doubt I'll be back some day, because it seems like the kind of thing you do if you're in Paris with time to kill during the day and don't feel like shopping. Wow, I really seem to hate Versailles, don't I? I think I'm just bitter that I didn't have time to visit Marie Antoinette's house and also ever so slightly annoyed with the French for building all of these ridiculously elaborate palaces while there were plenty of people dying of hunger. Of course, I suppose I wasn't the only person who was "slightly annoyed" with the royals for their conspicuous consumption in the face of mounting poverty, so I should probably just shut up and enjoy being a tourist.
Other tourist activities: the Musee D'Orsay, which is good, obviously, but has far too many people. I don't understand why everyone in the world thought that a cold, rainy week in the beginning of May was the perfect time to come to Paris. Don't these people work or go to school or something? I did make an important discovery there, though: I no longer like Monet nearly as much as when I was a kid. I mean, I'm not saying I could do a better job (although maybe. I used to do a lot of water color painting when I was younger). I'm just saying that if someone asked me if I wanted a Monet or ... just about any other impressionist, and I couldn't sell it, I'd probably go with choice B.
This is fortunate, because my last day in Paris, I realized I couldn't actually walk (all the gravel and cobblestones at Versailles had aggravated my sprained ankle, which had already been screwed up at boot camp). And my last day was supposed to consist of a visit to the Louvre (fortunately, I've been before, and have the same comment re wasteful palace spending) and Giverny. Let's just say that if I'd liked Monet as much as I used to, I would have been really sorry to miss Giverny, but as it is, I have to wonder if the flowers would have even been in bloom: Paris was FREEZING.
Anyway, the next day I took off for Toulouse, which will get its own entry, although not right now.
So, I arrived in Paris in early May, on a very grey day, having been en route for nearly 24 hours (a long wait at the Cape Town airport, a long flight to Dubai, an even longer wait in the Dubai airport, and finally, CDG). As a result, I was too tired and lazy to take the (cheap) Air France shuttle bus into the city and try to figure out where my hotel was. Instead, I opted for an over-priced cab (the shame).
The hotel: small but beautiful. I kind of loved my little room, with its red doors with black trim. It made me very happy, as did the sparkling clean bathroom which I used for daily bubble baths (yes, I feel guilty for not conserving water, but it rained for at least part of every day -- or threatened to, anyway -- so I think it will be okay).
So, Paris was beautiful but a little lonely. My French (as noted above) is not stellar, and my developing world traveling attire made me feel less than confident with that limited French. I think every server in Paris probably hated me, not because I was a non-French speaker, but because I mumbled the French I did speak because I thought they were going to be mad at me (which they were). I also felt slightly bullied into buying aperitifs I may have otherwise skipped, in an anticipatory move to appease their anger. Either that, or I just really wanted kir royales...
Angry French people aside, I managed fairly well (except at the post office, where I had to send something to the US overnight and think there may have been problems, unfortunate given the expense, and even more unfortunate because the package had forms for reimbursement). I made my way through the Metro (not difficult, I know, with the exception of my being very particular about the exit I used at Charles de Gaulle Etoile) and familiarized myself with some of the train stations (although not the random punching holes in your own ticket thing). And I bought stinky cheese from the supermarket and baguettes from the boulangerie near the hotel. I didn't speak with a soul (with the exception of an education professor from Baltimore that I happened to meet on the train platform from Chartres to Paris), but other than that, everything was great.
Chartres: pretty, as expected. I liked, but did not love, the cathedral. I think I just don't know enough about large church-like structures to be a good judge, because the one I liked best (which I visited in Toulouse) is not nearly as well-known, and isn't even the best of its kind in Toulouse. Oh well. Had a very nice lunch (got the menu du jour, had no idea what it was, and ended up with a surprisingly nice warm potato salad with herring on a bed of bitter salad greens). Note to self: translate words you don't know before placing your order.
Versailles: hmmm. I know everyone goes here, and I figure it's important to have checked it off my list. That said, I could have skipped it without any qualms. The gardens are, admittedly, pretty, but by the time I got to the gardens, I was so sick of all the other tourists, and my feet were killing me, so I took a look and decided to get out. Fortunately, I have pictures to remind me of my happy hours there at Versailles. Also, I don't doubt I'll be back some day, because it seems like the kind of thing you do if you're in Paris with time to kill during the day and don't feel like shopping. Wow, I really seem to hate Versailles, don't I? I think I'm just bitter that I didn't have time to visit Marie Antoinette's house and also ever so slightly annoyed with the French for building all of these ridiculously elaborate palaces while there were plenty of people dying of hunger. Of course, I suppose I wasn't the only person who was "slightly annoyed" with the royals for their conspicuous consumption in the face of mounting poverty, so I should probably just shut up and enjoy being a tourist.
Other tourist activities: the Musee D'Orsay, which is good, obviously, but has far too many people. I don't understand why everyone in the world thought that a cold, rainy week in the beginning of May was the perfect time to come to Paris. Don't these people work or go to school or something? I did make an important discovery there, though: I no longer like Monet nearly as much as when I was a kid. I mean, I'm not saying I could do a better job (although maybe. I used to do a lot of water color painting when I was younger). I'm just saying that if someone asked me if I wanted a Monet or ... just about any other impressionist, and I couldn't sell it, I'd probably go with choice B.
This is fortunate, because my last day in Paris, I realized I couldn't actually walk (all the gravel and cobblestones at Versailles had aggravated my sprained ankle, which had already been screwed up at boot camp). And my last day was supposed to consist of a visit to the Louvre (fortunately, I've been before, and have the same comment re wasteful palace spending) and Giverny. Let's just say that if I'd liked Monet as much as I used to, I would have been really sorry to miss Giverny, but as it is, I have to wonder if the flowers would have even been in bloom: Paris was FREEZING.
Anyway, the next day I took off for Toulouse, which will get its own entry, although not right now.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Cape Town: Mixed Feelings
It's been a week since I left Cape Town, but I found it difficult to write about for a number of reasons, and hoped for a little perspective.
The unadulterated good: the city (at least where I was staying) felt totally developed. Drink the tap water, toilet paper in public restrooms developed. Also, it's beautiful, in the same way that northern California and New Zealand are beautiful: green, mountainous, lovely ocean views.
But that isn't enough. I'd been warned by a friend of Pakistani extraction that Cape Town was one of the least diverse places he'd ever been, notable in Africa for its absence of people of color. I did notice some people of color in the upper middle class area where I was staying, but most of them were domestics or street vendors. I am told that furing apartheid, it was one of the most diverse, liberal areas in South Africa. Apparently, this is no longer the case.
While in Cape Town, I did four touristy things. The first was visiting Table Mountain (very cold and windy, but great views where the cloud cover hadn't taken over). The next day, I went for something completely different: a township tour, guided by a township dweller. Here were the blacks and colored that were almost entirely absent on the streets of Cape Town. The majority live in substandard housing ranging from two-room structures with outhouses and access to public showers to shanties made of corrugated metal. But because almost no people of color live in the city proper (many were forced out during the 60s), even the middle class live in these townships, although in signficantly larger houses with satellite TV and fancy imported cars in the driveways.
So, a short post for a whole week spent, but it is difficult to praise the positive without acknowledging (and lamenting) the negative. I hope that Cape Town will see better, more integrated days.
The unadulterated good: the city (at least where I was staying) felt totally developed. Drink the tap water, toilet paper in public restrooms developed. Also, it's beautiful, in the same way that northern California and New Zealand are beautiful: green, mountainous, lovely ocean views.
But that isn't enough. I'd been warned by a friend of Pakistani extraction that Cape Town was one of the least diverse places he'd ever been, notable in Africa for its absence of people of color. I did notice some people of color in the upper middle class area where I was staying, but most of them were domestics or street vendors. I am told that furing apartheid, it was one of the most diverse, liberal areas in South Africa. Apparently, this is no longer the case.
While in Cape Town, I did four touristy things. The first was visiting Table Mountain (very cold and windy, but great views where the cloud cover hadn't taken over). The next day, I went for something completely different: a township tour, guided by a township dweller. Here were the blacks and colored that were almost entirely absent on the streets of Cape Town. The majority live in substandard housing ranging from two-room structures with outhouses and access to public showers to shanties made of corrugated metal. But because almost no people of color live in the city proper (many were forced out during the 60s), even the middle class live in these townships, although in signficantly larger houses with satellite TV and fancy imported cars in the driveways.
So, a short post for a whole week spent, but it is difficult to praise the positive without acknowledging (and lamenting) the negative. I hope that Cape Town will see better, more integrated days.
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