One of the many delicious meals cooked by my aunt Gosia. The Polish kitchen is one of my favorites!
My mom creating a masterpiece…
Sooji and I spend an evening with Tomek, Aga and her boyfriend Peter.
Piotrek and his wife Kasia stop by with little Zosia.
Tomek and Ania walking down the aisle on September 8th, a grand wedding and family affair!
Tomek, Aga, Michał, Ewa and Julia (Magda was dearly missed!)
Aunt Zosia and Uncle Marek, mother and father of the groom
Uncle Eligiusz, Aunt Marysia, Aunt Aleksandra, my mom, Aunt Gosia and Uncle Grzesio
The Michniowski cousin clan (missing are Magda, Basia, Kordian, Stefan and Bogdan)
A happy family: Basia, Maciek, Bernard, Julia and baby Alicja
Back to my beloved Krakow where I met with Jimena from Buenos Aires. Naturally, a tango was in order! Jimena is on a journey of her own, and most serendipitously our paths crossed. Together with Ola we shared many memorable moments, soon joined by Sooji…
My mom joined us in this city where she spent her university years.
A party with Malgosia and Matylda, friends of mine and my mom’s for many years.
Drinks with Marta and Piotrek as Jimena bids us farewell…
A final night of cocktails with Magda, a dear friend of Ola’s. And mine now too.
The day began in the manner that all days should begin, with a massage. (Dream or reality?) My body was then ready for a little yoga on the terrace, as the sun welcomed me with it’s late summer glow. For breakfast my mom and I filled our palates with raspberries in the garden. Yes, life is good! Nature was beckoning and along with Dagmara we took a long walk into the woods. We reached a grand rock upon which my grandparents inscribed their initials so many years ago. The peace in the woods is truly immeasurable. For lunch we had a date with my eldest aunt Aleksandra who prepared quite a feast.
After lunch we headed to Sanok for a little shopping and preparation for a visit from my mom’s friend of long ago Elizabeth and her brother, a respected and accomplished composer and poet, Wojchiech Rybicki. It was a full and rousing day. And now for a moment I shall sit beneath a sky illuminated by stars, in gratitude of the wonder and warmth surrounding me. As tomorrow I temporarily part with these woody paths for the cobblestones of Krakow…
My dear cousin Tomek and his fiance Ania whom I adore! They are to be married on September 8th. A grand family event!
My cousin Basia just gave birth to her second daughter Alicja a week ago.
I am already in love with her, as I am with little Julia.
My aunt Aleksandra recently turned 70 and looks as glamourous as ever!
As I so fondly recall my childhood in Poland, so many endless summers spent outdoors, playing in the haystacks, finding refuge in the depths of the woods, creating worlds that only a young and curious mind can understand. At one with nature. so too have my cousins Dagmara, Michał, Ewa and Julia found a home in the wilderness, creating a world very much their own, composed of branches, twigs and rocks and great imagination. The line between fantasy and reality exists outside my doorstep.
I arrived to Sanok to the warm embrace of my dear mother who I have not seen since my departure so many months ago. There is nothing like the feeling of home. Bykowce lies in southern Poland, not far from the town Sanok where my mom was raised with her 6 siblings and where I spent much of my childhood. My aunts, uncles and several of my many cousins remain in close proximity, and there is much activity and laughter filling this ancestral air. Our ‘villa’ is tucked away beneath the woods, designed and built 13 years ago by my mom and her brother Grzesio who lives here with my aunt Gosia and their daughter Dagmara. It is a beautiful life filled with simple pleasures. When my uncle is not healing the sick at the hospital or at home, he escapes to the woods to hunt, sometimes joined by another uncle Eligiusz, a forester. My hunting consists of picking berries in the garden while the rooster crows…I find refuge in the solemnity of the woods, the same woods where the Jews were saved by the local peasants during times of war, so many stories lay upon these lands…in this time which is told by the rising and falling of the sun, I have found quietude.
Krakow is one of my most beloved cities. the main square is perhaps the most charming in all of Europe, lined with cafes and eateries, the sounds of a street musician in the distance mingling with the clanking of a horse and carriage upon the cobblestones… Time seems to flow at a slower pace in this old capital of Poland, once the home of kings and queens, drawing great scholars and artists from the entire world. It is fascinating to experience this city which so eloquently connects tradition with modernity.
My dear friend Ola lives in this cultural mecca and we had a wonderful time catching up on all the beautiful stories of our lives…wandering the mysterious streets of the Old Town and Kazimierz…breathing in the life that is uniquely Polish.
My return to London was eagerly spent in one of my most loved vicinities near Bond Street. It was there that Sarah welcomed me to her mews on Wigmore Place, perhaps one of the quaintest of streets in all of London, or so it became for me. Several days wrapped warmly against the chill in the air, Saturday spent at Portobello Market (more vintage shopping!) followed by an afternoon of pints with Bartosz, Sooji, Azfar and Sarah…lunch with Aga and Peter in their lovely flat in North Acton..and several afternoon teas on Marylebone Lane.
Every morning I wake up in Asia and take the ferry across the Bosphorus strait to Europe. Istanbul is the only metropolis in the world which is situated on two continents. Once called Constantinople, this city is deeply steeped in history, having served as the capital city of the Roman Empire (330-395), the Byzantine Empire (395-1204 and 1261-1453), the Latin Empire (1204-1261), and the Ottoman Empire (1453-1922). This city is filled with colors, cats and sights that are simply breath-taking.
A mosque in the lovely neighborhood of Ortakoy.
The Topkapi Palace, home to the Ottoman sultans for nearly four centuries.
The Underground Cistern was known as the Basilica Cistern during the Roman period. After the conquest of the city by the Ottoman Turks, it was forgotten of and nobody knew that it existed. Re-discovered in 1545, it was used to water the gardens of Topkapi Palace. Today it has an eery and mystical ambiance with fish dancing in its waters.
The grandest of Grand Bazaars, where many a treasure can be found…
The Hagia Sophia, built by Justinian between 532 and 537, is widely regarded as the masterpiece of Byzantine architecture. It was the largest cathedral ever built for more than a thousand years, until the completion of the Seville Cathedral in 1575, during the Renaissance.
The Blue Mosque, one of the most impressive structures in the world! According to legend, Sultan Ahmet I wanted to have a minaret made of gold which is “altin” in Turkish. The architect misunderstood him as having said “alti” which means “six” in English. The architect fearfully asked “am I going to be beheaded?”. Luckily, the Sultan Ahmed I loved the minarets. Prior to that time, no sultan had a mosque with 6 minarets.
This morning I greeted the dawn, high above the volcanic peaks of Cappadocia in a hot air balloon. What a sensation to float amidst these rocky pinnacles lit in golden hues by the rising sun! It’s no wonder this experience is on the list of 1,000 things to do before you die.
Cappadocia is unlike any other place in the world, and I have seen many! It all began with the eruption of several volcanoes whose residues became prone to successive erosions through wind, rain and variations in temperature and began to take myriad forms. In time a series of earthquakes in the Goreme region increased the impact of erosion. As a result this magical land was formed, consisting of a vast array of ‘fairy chimneys’ resembling mushroom caps. Ihlara valley reveals many shelters, churches and monestaries built into these rock formations, home to a dozen civilizations beginning with the arrival of the Christians in the 4th century. A world that is beyond the realm of my imagination. Walking amidst this volcanic terrain of minarets, cones and spires I had the sensation of living within a dream. The dream continued when I awoke in a cave dwelling with sweeping views to this mystical rock landscape.
The history of Ephesus dates back to 2000 B.C., a famous city of 250,000 inhabitants, a place of festivity and celebration for the many skillful artisans and wealthy merchants. Ephesus was founded by the Amazons and later conquered by the Ionians in the 11th century B.C. Artemis, the goddess of abundance, was believed to have ruled over this land that is now considered one of the 7 wonders of the ancient world. It was incredible to experience this rich history, walking amidst fragments of this venerable civilization.
The Library of Celsus built by C. Julius in honour of his father C. Celsus, the General Governor of the Province of Asia in the year 135 A.D.
The Great Theatre with a capacity of 25,000 spectators, with 22 flights of stairs, a monumental masterpiece in terms of art as well as Christianity.
In the land of Karakaya, an 800 year old village named for its dark rocks, shining silver in the moonlight, lives a man named Musa. As we ventured to this land, we were invited to share its secrets upon our chance encounter with Musa who became known to us as Moses. Captivated by tales of his life as an archaeologist and prophet, a conversation in Turkish translated by Emre, mingled with phrases of French to my delight, his world became ours for a timeless moment. Ela too became enchanted with this wiseman. With his eyes and his heart he spoke, ‘love and friendship will make the world go on.’
Every morning I wake up to the turquoise calm of the Aegean Sea, in the village of Turgutreis on the Bodrum peninsula. This is the summer home of my dear friends Karen and Emre and little Elanur, the most adorable Turkish American baby I have so quickly grown to love! The first 3 months of her life she is spending summering in the Hamptons and Bodrum, quite a privileged life! Needless to say Ela and I have bonded in the last few days as I learn the many lessons of motherhood. Yesterday Karen, Ela and I ventured to the Greek island of Kos for a little tsatziki. These paradisic days are spent on the beach, swimming, boating in these tranquil waters, dining on grand turkish feasts of meze…in warm reminiscences of many years of friendship in a life that continues to unravel much like a dream.
On July 29th the London skies shone bright and blue, providing the setting for a most happily spent birthday. In the morning Bartosz and I feasted on a gluttunous breakfast at a cozy farmhouse followed by a stroll through the Columbia Street flower market, many quaint antique shops and cafes and a bit of vintage shopping on Brick Lane. I have discovered the countryside in East London! As evening drew near, I caroused the Bond Street vicinity, shared a tea at a lovely Morrocan cafe with my darling cousin Aga and met with friends for a grand dinner at ‘The Garrison House’, a charming pub near London Bridge. To share in this celebration of a life I value deeply, were Bartosz, his brother Rafal and girlfriend Joanna, Micheal, Aga and Peter, Ben who I befriended during the Bali chapter, Brandy and Sarah my dear friends of many years…on all accounts it was a beautiful day!
London feels like home, ever since it first entered my heart many years ago. My reunion with this charming city began in East London, the home of one of my dearest friends Bartosz, and continued on Bond Street with a private tour by an Aussie Londoner, Ian. These London days were illuminated by the elusive sun, many hours spent wandering these once familiar streets…my nights were quite short due to weary jet-lag. Thankfully the pub culture begins at an early hour!
My return to Tokyo proved to be another 2 days and nights of carousing, this time with John who I had last seen as we raised a glass in Rio. His journey was to begin as mine continued. Our night began in Roppongi, where the heartbeat of Tokyo is felt on every corner. Following a sushi feast we found a suitably tacky karaoke bar, and there began my attempt at singing the classics. Another whisky please!! John was a natural! Upon a restful slumber in my Ryokan I spent the day shopping in the Shinjuku district where John and I met once again after viewing this magestic city of lights from the 59th floor of the Park Hyatt. After many failed attempts to enter one of the dozens of private clubs which seemed all too enticing, we made friends with the locals over several games of darts. The morning sun beckoned us to inspect the catch of the morning at the Tsukiji fish market. In the manner that my first night in Tokyo had begun several weeks ago, so it was to end. Over a 6am plate of the most incredible fish I will ever have the pleasure to savour!
I was sad to leave this city and it’s people but it was time to fly away once again…
‘When an atomic bomb falls, day becomes night. And the people become ghosts,’ words of 10 year old Hatsumi Sakamoto. What more to say.
Thoughtful refuge found on the island of Miyajima.
The following day I encountered the majestic Himeji Castle, nicknamed “White Heron” due to its white walls covered with white fireproof plaster. The castle took 8 years to build beginning in 1601, rising atop a hill called Himeyama, 45.6 meters above sea level. Himeji Castle is famous for it’s huge main tower as well as the highly effective and complicated defensive maze-like design. It stands fully intact and preserved, as it is one of the few castles in Japan never to have been attacked by warfare.
It was time for a spa adventure as I jumped aboard a highly esteemed Shinkansen train and found my way to the hot spring resort of Shuzenji on the Izu Peninsula. Named after the local temple, Shuzenji was founded 1200 years ago by Kobo Daishi (Kukai), one of Japan’s most important religious personalities. After being filled with such intense sights and sensations, the steamy waters of my onsen felt like heaven!
My life has taken a rather spiritual turn, as I find inner sanctity surrounded by monks in a temple in Koya-San. Upon arrival Sooji and I feasted on an elaborate composition of vegetarian delicacies in all shapes and sizes followed by a deep meditation led by one of the many resident monks. The rain was falling, creating a mood of tranquility and peace, as we lay our minds and bodies to rest upon the tatami mats. We were awoken at 5am and led into a world of captivating chanting followed by a fire ceremony. As the rain continued I found myself deep in thought amidst the sacred souls in the cemetery…
The last few days have been spent bicycling around Kyoto, seeking out hidden treasures in the form of temples. I have seen many and more to come in the days ahead as tomorrow we venture to Naga followed by Koya-San…I am still in surreptitious pursuit of a Geisha as these women strangely intrigue me. Ah, and I cannot forget to mention all the sushi feasts accompanied by bottles of sake…this evening I took a bath. The Funaoka Onsen is a traditional Japanese bath house with an outdoor bath, sauna, cypress-wood tub, herbal bath…I have never felt so clean! This was indeed an experience.
The Golden Pavilion of the Rokuon-Ji Temple
The rock garden at the Ryoanji Temple
We arrived in Kyoto to streets filled with kimono clad women and men in robes, strolling the downtown streets with a casual grace, the clunking of wooden shoes heard in every direction. It was a holiday and celebrations were underway! Though I have yet to see one of the 100 Geishas who inhabit the city. I thought I may have spotted one sitting on the banks of the Kamo-Gawa river contemplating her fate…Kyoto is a vibrant historic city, home to nearly 2,000 temples and shrines and an intimacy that does not exist in Tokyo. It is a charming city with much to discover…
A brief stop in Hong Kong where Sooji and I met once again to continue our journey to Tokyo where our final chapter in Asia was to commence. Here we were joined by our dear friends Maria and Blair with whom we shared several memorable days on the island of Gili Trawangan back in the time of Bali. Weary from a long day of flights yet fully awake to the energy of Tokyo, they whisked us away to a trendy hotspot called Yellow, where dj Mark Farina set the mood for a long night of dancing and revelry followed by an early morning at the fish market. Sushi for breakfast? This was of course followed by a clandestine piano performance by the very musically inclined Blair, on a baby grand at the Conrad…we saved the sushi feast for a grand dinner, this delectable fish of which I can`t seem to eat enough of. It is such moments that I so often smile upon…
The morning was misty. The arduous climb felt like the combination of a dream and trial of strength, hiking up to the Great Wall, the longest and most time-consuming ancient defense system, taking over 2,000 years to construct, a length of 6,300 kilometers. This piece of the wall was not restored and not easily found, and I was undeniably exultant to have reached this path that felt so close to heaven. To end my final day in Beijing, I feasted my eyes on a traditional Chinese Opera and my palate on Peking duck. Both proved most appetizing.
I agree with Duchamp’s conception of art that a person’s “life” is “art” in a way, and neither is more important than the other. 798 Art Centre is one of China’s largest art spaces, the former facility of state-run 798 electronic factories. Since 2002 artists have built their studios in these old warehouses, now home to impressive artwork that is being recognized internationally. These warehouses also boast independent designer boutiques and cafes, a world of not-so-hidden treasures.
I became quite the diligent tourist in Beijing with little time and very much to see in this city filled with sights. My life in Shanghai seemed to follow me as several of my friends appeared during my week of cultural jaunts. The history lesson began in Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City, a huge complex of halls, towers and pavilions covered in golden tiles. Here was the home of 24 emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties for nearly 500 years. I was caught in a rainstorm while carousing this Palace Museum which added to the magestic mood. As evening fell I made my way to Jingshan Park which overlooks the Forbidden City.
I was very much taken with the Summer Palace which is in fact the largest existing ancient imperial garden of China. All day can be spent walking these grounds and marveling at the detail in the construction.
An old Chinese fortune teller inscribing my fortune which reads ‘everything is as I wish’. Clever man!
Two days of my life were spent aboard a train headed from Lhasa to Beijing. A journey of 4,064 kilometers to be exact. This time was filled with visions of sheep grazing in verdant pastures, and snow capped mountain peaks. These vistas became scenes of my life as I sat in deep peace upon my bunk, fully aware of the luxury of time. My cabin mates were two Tibetans and a Chinese man. I befriended the somewhat English-speaking Tibetan and as hours grew long and conversation grew short I taught him to play my beloved game of backgammon. In turn he taught me a Tibetan game. In this way, after many cups of tea and wanders into the dining car, more for the sake of observation than nourishment…much reading and writing…time passed. I was one of only 5 Westerners aboard the train. This time was my own, blissfully trapped in a moving vessel. A head filled with thoughts reflected through eyes filled with visions.
Today I feasted on a delicious Tibetan lunch of noodles and pork dumplings (or was it yak?), cooked by nuns. There exist 3 nunneries in Lhasa and I was privileged to visit one and observe the daily lives of the 100 residing nuns. I could spend all day surrounded by their calm. Have I found my calling? I think not! During these last 5 days I have grown very fond of our guide Tenzin (who was once a monk himself). He has most graciously introduced us into the Tibetan culture and made us feel at home. My senses are filled and I shall take these visions and inner peace with me as the train departs for Beijing in the early morning…Until then my observations and meditations in Lhasa continue.
These are the vistas that will accompany me on my 48 hour train journey to Beijing…the adventure continues!
The Patala Palace, official residence of the Dalai Lamas
A sheep and I taking refuge at the Drepong Monastery
I have arrived to “the Holy City” of Lhasa. It feels much like a dream, surrounded by monks and mountains, at an altitude of 12,000 feet. My head and heart feel light as I wander through this spiritual wonderland with the aid of Tenzin the tour guide. In hours which feel like days, I have seen so much and the adventure has only just begun. My first stop was at the spiritual heart of the city, the Jokhang Temple, a mix of Tibetan, Indian, Nepalese, and Chinese architecture. within Tibet’s holiest shrine thousands of butter candles illuminate the most sacred Buddha statue, one of over 200 so deeply revered by its worshipers.
At the Sera Monastery, one of the 3 monasteries in Lhasa housing over 2,400 monks, I was amazed to observe a philosophical debate. Such passion and energy in the words and motions of these peace abiding monks. If only I could understand their banter…
The people of Tibet are, in a word, beautiful.
The past week has been a whirlwind, feeling much more like a month with all that I have seen, eaten, experienced…and all those that I have met. I feel completely immersed in the life here and have even begun to find my way around the city, taking subways, speaking with the locals (still limited to ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’, spoken mostly with the eyes). One night I attended an art opening of international female artists at a wonderful space (www.1918artspace.com) followed by a grand ‘hot pot’ dinner with the artists. The Chinese dining experience is quite an event in itself! Last night I met several friends at Barbarossa, a favorite moroccan lounge of mine, placed most serenely on a lake, and onwards to Bar Rouge for champagne in the rain and a dance amidst the ex-pats.
Today a tasty brunch at Sasha’s with Crystyl, Anthony and Blair who has flown in from Hong Kong. What dear friends I have made in this city which has most graciously drawn me in! The ‘Art in America’ show at the Shanghai Museum and MOCA (Museum of Contemporary Art) satisfied my mild cravings of the city and culture I left behind. I will miss this place and it’s people and the life that I have found here. Indeed parting is such sweet sorrow as I bid farewell to Shanghai and prepare to greet Tibet.
I arrived to Shanghai not knowing a soul. On my first night I made my way to ‘3 on the Bund’, a prime location including Jean Georges and many other fine eateries and bars. It was there that I met several strangers who soon became friends and began what feels like a very privileged life. I found a home in People Square, downtown Shanghai, at the warm hospitality of Georg, a german ex-pat, one of many in this continuously growing foreign community. Days here are hot amidst the polluted air, but my curiosity provokes me to wander these seemingly unnavigatable streets where noone speaks English and I am at the mercy of a map and any written scraps of paper bearing the name of my destination in Chinese. While it is strange and uncomfortable to feel so helpless I am deeply fascinated with the life here. My eyes speak volumes while my voice cannot. Surely I will not take the ease of communication for granted when I land on familiar soil.
The art world of China is finding its voice in this city of fervent growth and energy. I spent an afternoon at Moganshan Road, a mass of ateliers revealing artistic provocation. Much of these works are clearly politically driven.
My favorite neighborhood is the French Concession, flavoured with the charm of Paris. Tree lined streets filled with boutiques as well as many trendy restaurants. Shanghai is indeed a city of eating which I am doing much of, including such delicacies as pigs knuckles and soups that I can’t even begin to describe…and shopping, which I have not been doing so much of as my shoe size (39.5) is non-existant and a size 6 is translated into XL !?
From one island to another. I arrived to Hong Kong after three weeks under the Bali sun, it was not easy to leave, yet I was eager to enter a new space of culture and movement. Hong Kong is a unique city with it’s Asian flair and European influences, filled with habitants from all over the world. We are staying with friends in the Soho neighborhood, and feeling quite at home. A day of carousing the sloped streets, up to Victoria’s Peak for a proper view and back down to join the locals and ex-pats in the revelry of dining and dancing…
The view from “Aqua” prior to the lightshow…the perfect moment of nightfall.
Love and laughter are key ingredients towards a happy life. “I often laugh at nothing, but I always laugh” says Mudarta, who I call the laughing man. A Balinese local with a contagious smile and warm countenance, whose laughter provokes a smile in even the most dour face. Mudarta has a very wise approach to life. such wisdom is learned in the invaluable school of life and cannot be taught. I took a liking to him immediately, and in the days that followed we drove throughout Bali, to the sacred temple of Tanah Lot where I was blessed with holy water, and far away to the still active Batur volcano. time of visual stimulation and insights. It is through such interaction with others that I learn the most about life.
Skillfully crafted masks found on the roadside in Ubud.
After my most exhilarating diving experience to date (it was my 6th dive!!) in the waters near Padang Bai, where I spotted several sharks, a tiger ray and an assortment of fish in multifarious shapes and colors, we boarded a ferry to the island of Gili Trawangan, near Lombok. A four hour ride into a glorious sunset. The island is inhabited by warm souls, cats with uniquely short tails and donkeys which provide the transportation. Sooji and I met many people from distant lands, and together we shared this lucid dream.
A room with a view. the rice fields outside of my homestay.
A morning at the monkey forest. Yes, that is really a monkey on my back! Adorable but fiesty!
An afternoon at the impressive Neka Museum which boasts the work of Arie Smit, a Dutch painter who greatly influenced the art movement in Bali.
By nightfall, following a meal at my favorite restaurant Nomad, I experienced a traditional Kecak dance in which many locals participate. The people of Bali are so filled with spirituality!
In the belief of reincarnation, our deeds, wealth, and love determine the next life. I would like mine to be lived in Bali. This is a beautiful land where people smile often and the art of creation brings nourishment to the soul. Ubud is a haven for artists, writers and anyone seeking spiritual enlightenment. My days are spent in admiration of the great artistic expression present in the temples, paintings, dance, even the food, which each mouthful I savour. Might I mention the (ever so inexpensive) art of massage which I experience as often as possible. At the hands of master painter Nyoman Sudadnya I am learning the techniques of Batik painting, quite a skill involving hot wax and patience. Amidst the miles of rice fields this composition of my life continues…
A batik comes to life from the recesses of a vivid imagination…
“Malaysia: truly Asia” seems to be the word on the streets in this modern metropolis composed of trees and skyscrapers, the twin towers being the highest in the world. 48 hours in this jungle landscape proved most stimulating, fine dining and dancing followed by bowls of noodles from the friendly man in the street cafe, do as the locals do…a short break from the quietude of the beach, until we meet again in Bali…
I am now on the island of Ko Phi Phi in Thailand, attempting to overcome my fear of water by diving into the deep end, quite literally. I am taking a diving course and will soon be certified! Tomorrow is my first dive after several days of an underwater education, learning skills and how not to panic. I am not afraid of much in life but I must say this has been a challenge! Seems that I have found another paradise with turquoise waters, cliffs, caves…indeed I feel as though I have stepped onto the set of ‘The Beach’!
It is within these waters that I became a diver with a deep regard for the underwater world, what a sensation!
I have found the most serene, slow-paced city in Southeast Asia, and one of the most spiritual. Luang Prabang is the City of the Buddha of Peace, hidden in the mountains of Laos. The population is a mere 15,000, with over 600 saffron-clad monks who inhabit its thirty pagodas. It’s incredible to walk the streets and suddenly stop to gaze at a temple in a place where time seems to stand still. My days are spent bicycling on the edge of the Mekong in exploration of a city that has become a favorite of mine, with its ideal mix of nature and sophistication. Many elegant restaurants with tasty Laotian cuisine, as well as charming local cafes on the river where I can sit over a good strong coffee for hours. Galleries are finding a home here as local artists are showcasing their work and the Laotians are taking more of an interest in art and literature. It is a place I would love to spend more time, ah yes time…
The Kuang Si waterfall, one of several in Laos…a great force of nature!
The morning monks taking their alms at sunrise. A most thoughtful and intimate moment.
I am trapped in a world of tailors and fittings. Of the over 200 tailors in Hoi An I have been to 6, maybe 7…with approximately 4 fittings in each I now have 4 dresses, 2 jackets, 1 suit and a pair of shorts. So rewarding and exhausting to create your own wardrobe! not sure what happened to traveling lightly…
I have found a place to call home, at least for a few days. Hoi An is a charming village, filled with the finest eateries in which a 3-course meal at a 4 star restaurant costs $5. I wonder just how many spring rolls I can eat!? I can’t speak much for the sights as I have taken a break from visiting temples and taken to visiting the tailor shops, perhaps more exhausting than silent prayer. the streets are filled with galleries exhibiting paintings by young local talent. These lacquer compositions reveal a sentimentality that speaks from the soul of an artist.
My latest acquisition as my art collection grows, by a young Vietnamese artist reminiscent of Paul Klee, one of my most beloved artists.
For 2 days I lived on a ‘junk’ boat, with 12 other equally adventurous souls. Lost admidst 950 miles of mysterious limestone formations rising out of the clear, emerald waters of the Gulf of Bac Bo. Meals of fresh caught fish, a morning of kayaking, cave exploration and beaches…some of the most wondrous natural sights I have yet seen, disconnected from all that resembles reality. A beautiful sensation of complete freedom.
Sunset from the roof deck…followed by a night beneath the stars drinking Vietnamese wine (some things are better left to the French…)
The friendly yet fiesty girl from whom I bought many an exotic fruit. Indeed, a floating fruitstand!
I am living in the Old Quarter of Hanoi, where life spills into the streets. Women sit huddled together in conversation over bowls of noodles, cooked in a pan at their side. The soft, almost melodic hum of scooters weaves through the crowds of pedestrians and bicyclists. I sit and observe over a cup of coffee, the best coffee I have tasted in months. Strong and slightly bitter, mixed to perfection with sweetened milk, which I ingest by the spoonful. I digress, my mind wanders, the common trait of a pensive observer…
Some sort of concoction of beans, fruit, ice and condensed milk, delicious! Such tasty street foods!
A day was spent at the Mekong Delta, a scenic river with lush green canals, home to many local farmers. A land of nature and tranquility. From a bus to a motor boat to a rowboat to a taxi to a plane to Hanoi…
It is here in Vietnam that
exhaustion has finally caught up with me. This is a rapidly moving city, everyone seems to be zipping by on a scooter, and to cross the street is quite an interactive experience. Perhaps it’s the intense heat or over-stimulation of the past four months, or perhaps the desire to simply call a place my home. My mind is filled with so many visions, at once they form a most elaborate composition of people and places…the world has taken residence in my head. These days in Saigon are spent indulging in bowls of Pho, those noodles which I love, and a little bit of shopping (I will save my energy for the tailors in Hanoi). And of course a great deal of culture. A heavy day of history at the War Remnants Museum. What is it that they say, be careful when discussing religion and politics? I would have to agree. Tomorrow the Mekong Delta…
The devastation that met so many Cambodians in the years of the Khmer Rouge’s rule is unthinkable. A day frought with emotion and much sadness as I visited the Tuol Sleng Museum, once the Tuol Svay Prey High School, turned Security Prison 21, the largest center of detention and torture in the country. The spaces where so many innocent lives were lost, chambers with rusty beds, wooden cells in which there was room only for grief. The survivors of this prison were taken to the killing fields of Cheoung Ek, which became the memorial of these 17,000 men, women and children who were so wrongfully executed. 129 mass graves, sights of a dark and somber past that will remain with me as I journey through history.
Thommanon is an intimate temple that exhibits much detail…have I mentioned how many temples I have seen? Perhaps enough for a lifetime, though I suspect more await in the days ahead…
At the center of Angkor Thom lies the Bayon, one of the most enigmatic and religious constructions in the world. It is composed of a mass of face-towers which form what appear to be mountain peaks. Most of the 37 remaining towers are carved with 4 faces. I was immersed in a world of Angkor eyes peering at me from every angle…wonderfully eerie!
