Final Thoughts on South America

Here are a few random thoughts on our visit to South America.  I have a new appreciation for the beauty and grandeur of the continent.  The Andes and surrounding areas are truly awe-inspiring and it is easy to understand the religious fervor that accompanied the early Spanish explorers and missionaries.  The land demands it.  I also came away with a new appreciation of the ancient Inca cultures.  There are aspects of it that are as impressive as some of those of ancient Egypt and somewhat along the same timeline.  The art work shows a high level of sophistication and work with tools.  The system of canals they built to control with flooding of the Amazon and tributaries to maximize the agricultural yield is truly impressive shows a level of technology that was highly developed.  Their cosmology also is intricate and was at a level of religious development on a par with the Middle East, at the time.

There was a certain sameness to all of the countries we visited:  Ecuador, Chile, Peru, Argentina, and Columbia.  The central plaza surrounded by Spanish colonial buildings, the cathedrals, the statues of Simon Bolivar.   Yet each had a distinctive flavor of some kind, whether it was the vineyards of Mendoza, Argentina, the tango in Buenos Aires and the ubiquitous money changers there muttering “cambio, cambio, cambio” under their breath as one approached, or the Pacific Ocean roaring under the cliffs in Miraflores, Peru.  The Gold Cathedral in Quito, Pablo Neruda’s house in Lima, the Botero Museum in Bogota, the grand opera house in Buenos Aires are all things that stand out.  The gritty bus ride to the even more gritty town of Valparaiso in Peru was a glimpse of a nearly vanished world.

I felt safe during this venture although Botoga seemed a bit edgy and had the most police with automatic weapons.  It was also the most difficult city to get around in as public transportation was not easy.  Argentina seems the most dice-y politically.  The recent murder of the prosecutor working on the bombing of the Jewish center twenty years ago was the most prominent but the whole structure seemed shaky.  Chile seemed more stable but nowhere was the stability of the United States.

After what seems like a long time, in a way, and the blink of an eye in another, we are back home in Washington, DC.  We ended the trip with a lovely few days visit with our daughter Kym O’Sullivan and her lovely husband Jay and two of our three O’Sullivan grandchildren, Joanna and Quinn in Tampa. Their oldest son Sylvan is still working in Quito.  A highlight of that was the Seder we had there with Joanna sight reading and singing in her lovely voice a cappella  many of the Passover songs.

Best of Bogota

por Jim

      During the final days of our trip we finally checked out a few museums.  Yesterday we visited the Gold Museum, which not only has a lot of gold and other metals, but a wonderful history of metals in cultures all over the world.  There were some interesting objects like this one

      Today we went to the Botero Museum, which features the collection that Colombian artist Fernando Botero donated to the nation, which housed it in an element of its museum complex in downtown Bogota.  It includes a lot of his work, including paintings and sculptures, always of people who looked like they had always eaten well, if not excessively.  In addition, he collected much material from artist friends including Picasso, Calder, Degas and others.  In short, it is a tour of 20th century art.  What's striking about it is not its size -- there are museums including the Mellon collection in Washington that own much more -- but its quality.  There wasn't a second-rate piece in the entire museum.  Two of my favorites were of couples -- one of Botero's supersized regulars

and one of Leda and the swan, both of whom were considerably more svelte.

          We commuted to these museums in the downtown area from our wonderful hotel in the elite Chapinero section of town, which led me once again to reflect on how much more difficult it is to get around in big cities that lack subway systems.  Bogota, like Quito and, to a lesser, degree Santiago, began in a valley surrounded by mountains, but has outgrown the flatlands over time as people build up into the hills.  Bogota's equivalent of a beltway is to swing several thousand feed up into a park that runs through elite neighborhoods where you get a great view of the entire city.  Which is to say distances can't be measured as a crow flies.  It makes for some interesting driving on trips that are never short, but always enjoyable as we view new sections of the city.  Finally, we've had some great food here as we have in the other cities we've visited.   South American ice cream is a treat everywhere.

In Bogota --Our last day in South America

Art and cathedrals.  A culture that appreciates both and that knows how to live life with enjoyment and verve:  that's much of what we've found in South America.  We spent the day wandering the streets of the old colonial city.  The narrow, winding streets are similar to what we've seen in the other major cities of the old Spanish Empire but still charming.  The pastel colored buildings with red tile roofs and fanciful wrought iron railings never fail to delight.

Amid so much of the old we also found the Botero museum.  He has long been one of my favorite artists but I haven't been exposed to that much of his work.  Imagine my delight at seeing over a hundred of his works; painting and sculptures, and also works of artists such as Picasso, Leger, Bonnard, Renoir and many others.  All the works were donated to by Botero from his private collection and a beautiful museum was constructed to house them.

The Time-Warner Center in New York City has two massive versions of his sculptures that I have always loved and now when I see them I'll also be able to recall the experience of the abundant collection we saw today.  

Gold in Bogota, Columbia

t is good to be reminded that there were great civilizations in the Americas dating at least to 1000 BCE and that they produced art of great sophistication.  A visit to the Museo de Oro (Gold Museum) in Bogota confirmed that.  The museum is filled with precious pre-Columbian art including masks made of hammered gold and figurines and sculptures of pottery and bone.  There was also stunning jewelery and religious art.  The museum itself is modern and shows a number of films and graphics that help explain the background of the objects.  But most of the objects are gold and many were used by kings, priests and other elites to emphasize their power.  Some things never change.

It is somewhat of a wonder that so many of these wonderful artworks survived the Spanish conquest and were not just melted down to be shipped to Spain.  It's our luck that they survived.

A Bogota Adventure

por Jim

        Our arrival in Bogota yesterday was punctuated by a series of event that remind us why travel can seem so frustrating as it is happening -- and so much as an edgy adventure in retrospect.  It all ended well with us comfortably quartered in an upscale hotel in the city, albeit many hours later than we anticipated.
         Things began when we arrived, in the rain, at the hotel where we had reservation.  Although located in the center of town, it didn't live up to the promise of its internet description (on the internet anyone you talk to may be a dog and, in the Lake Woebegone tradition, every hotel appears above average.  Things ain't always what they seem).  So we sat in our unsatisfactory room, logged into the internet and made a reservation (getting a good price for a irrevocable commitment) at a Marriott.  We then exited the unsatisfactory hotel as smoothly as possible and had them get a cab for us.
         Unfortunately the cab driver wasn't familiar with Marriott hotels and began a very long ride by heading for a location suggested when he misread the address we had written for the Marriott.  Our Spanish was adequate to straighten that one out and we then began a long ride that ended up at our designated address, which was in the middle of a commercial and industrial area where no building had more than two stories.  No Marriott.
          Also no working phone, which suggests something about Colombia.  In every other poor country we've visited a big city cab driver had a cellphone (in Beijing, the driver located our hotel by simply calling).  In any event, we didn't have the phone number for the hotel.  No one in the neighborhood had the wit to know how to call information or otherwise resolve the problem, leaving us in a cab stuck in traffic, wondering whether the driver was inept -- or had something more threatening in mind.  And we hadn't made things easier for him by miscopying the hotel's address.  A perfect storm.
           Things got better when we asked the driver to simply find a big hotel and we ended up at a Holiday Inn, where we were referred to the Marriott two blocks away, where we were killed with kindness.  In the course of providing us with free drinks and recovering our reservation, they explained it was at a different Marriott and they couldn't switch it because it was paid for via an independent web site.
           The story ends on a happy note when they packed us into a cab and sent us to the right hotel, where we were welcomed by a sympathetic staff who'd been alerted by the staff at the wrong Marriott.  So we were saved by a lot of nice folks at hotel after being at the mercy of a cab driver who wasn't up to the task and stressing out as we sat in traffic contemplating whether abandoning the cab in an unsophisticated neighborhood was a risk worth taking.
            That's one series of mistakes that we won't be making again.  On our next trip, we'll try some new mistakes.  Trusting a cab driver you have limited ability to communicate with in a city that's totally unfamiliar is a near inevitability on such trips.  Sometimes it works fine.  Yesterday it didn't. There are usually hopeful locals who come to your rescue.  That certainly happened yesterday.
            As one who has limited patience with travellers who endlessly recycle their logistical mishaps, I am somewhat uncomfortable sharing it here and can only promise our readers not to retell it when we next meet personally.
         

Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda's poetry is lyrical, passionate and quirky.  It turns out the house he lived in for many years in Santiago is the same.  Neruda, Chile's greatest poet and actually one of the world's greatest poets lived for many years in the house pictured above with Matilda, his last wife and reportedly the love of his life.  The house, perched high on a hill is not so much a house in the traditional sense but a series of rooms connected by terraces and patios and cobbled together in a delightful way.  It is now a museum, but preserved just as it was when he lived in it.  There is a view of the Andes from many rooms and terraces.

Neruda was friends with many artists.  In the bedroom is a portrait of Matilda painted by Diego Rivera.  A  photo of Neruda and Picasso hangs in his study.  There is also a Leger painting.  The first room one enters is the winter bar.  This is a cozy room with a nautical motif and a heavy, carved wooden bar and chairs from a Parisian cafe.  Next comes the dining room, my favorite, I think.  Neruda designed the table which is long and narrow to facilitate lively conversation.  He was a collector of many things and the table is set for ten with blue and white willow pattern china and heavy glass goblets in reds and greens.  It looks as if Neruda and his guests are about to begin a meal of perhaps a garlicky asopao and a hearty Chilean red wine.
There is a secret passage off the dining room that looks like a bookcase in the wall until it swings open to a pantry and a narrow spiral staircase.  That leads upstairs to the bed-sitting room.  The living room, study and summer bar are also upstairs.  He definitely knew how to live life to the fullest and his house reflects that.

Santiago Subway Vignette

por Jim

        When our bus from Valparaiso, a colorful and gritty port city, arrived back in Santiago, we transferred to the subway to get back to our current quarters.  It was near the beginning of the line, so we got seats, but the train filled as it headed downtown.  So no seats were left when a young, blind woman, carrying a purse and a shopping bag, was helped onto the train.  The fact that she was assisted and given given a seat was unsurprising.  But what happened next was enlightening.
         She settled into her seat and folded her cane, then reached into her shopping bag and pulled out something that looked like a small boom box, which she set by her feet.  Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a headset.  I assumed she was going to listen to music despite the fact that her headset had a mike.   Then she clicked on the box and began to talk, saying she hoped we were all having a good day and she wanted to sing us a song, which she then did -- more than competently-- with musical accompaniment from the box.
          As she held out her hand, people began filling it with coins, which she sometimes acknowledged as the singing continued.  People passed money from far ends of the car and more than filled her hand.  She had sung well and done well.
           But what happened next was more interesting yet.  As she began to pull herself together, the women sitting next to her, opened the carrying bag and helped put the boom box away.  The man sitting on the other side reached around and gave her the cane, which was on the seat behind her.  All the while, people were distracting her by putting more money in her hand.  When the train pulled into the station, her two neighbors helped her up and walked her to the door.
            We've seen people ask for money on subway systems in several continents.  A few days ago, in Argentina, the pattern was to stroll down the car and give a small item-- say a pocket calendar -- to each passenger and then to return and either take it back or take money.  Most passengers were stoic and indifferent, allowing the item to be placed in their laps and then recovered  Their response was not unlike the glazed eyes you often see in the New York subway when someone performs and/or asks for money.
            But here in Santiago, the response seemed to be uniquely friendly and supportive.  I don't know whether that says anything about Santiago or Chile or if she perhaps sung something with special resonance on the day involved.  So I won't attempt to derive any greater lesson beyond saying it struck me as a reassuring message about shared humanity -- a reminder worth the price of admission.

On The Bus to Valparaiso

Valparaiso, the port city about one hundred kilmeters from Sangiago is lively, dirty and colorful.  The air is filled with fumes of rotting fruit, automobile exhaust, coffee and people.  It has it's charms, however, being right on the Pacific Ocean  with the foothills of the Andes rising practically on the water and the houses of the town perching precariously on the hillsides.

We took the Santiago Metro to the edge of the city where the intercity bus yard is located , then caught a bus to Valparaiso.  Although the buses are fairly modern and comfortable my brain was still composing newspaper headlines like "Chilean Bus Plunges Off Road, All Passengers Killed."  You know you're not on I-95 when a couple in matching red shirts and gaucho hats come galloping on horses along the side of the road.  We passed some beautiful vineyards interspersed among the stony, rocky mountains.

My Deferred Dream

por Jim

      I've wanted to visit Argentina and Chile since my first trip to South America in the late l960s when I didn't.  At that time, the only capital city I was familiar with was Guatemala City and, during the course of that trip, I was impressed by both Bogota and Lima, which seemed big and sophisticated by my standards.  I had the impression that Santiago and Buenos Aires were at a higher level yet, but was unable then to explore them.
     Much has happened in the intervening years.  I've seen a lot and changed a bit since, but we tend to internalize such adjustments.  I'm thinking more of the political and economic changes that both sides were subjected to during the past few decades.  There was the dirty war in Argentina with excesses dramatically reported by Jacobo Timerman.  Worse yet was the US-abetted coup in Chile that led to the death of Salvador Allende, Chile's popularly-elected leftist president.  In each case the armed forced took power and, in collusion with shady paramilitary political units, waged a dirty war what they saw as subversion on the left.
      An unsophisticated argument (and all my arguments about this region are quite unsophisticated) that Chile has done better in the transition back to democracy.  Both nations are currently led by elected women, but the Chilean regime has less of the weirdness that has been typical of Argentina since the Peron years as today's ongoing scandal about the death of the prosecutor who wanted to indict the President suggests.  In the interim, there's a case to be made by that economic reforms the Pinochet regime made with the help of University of Chicago economists led to a more robust performance while the Argentines continue to borrow money in the international markets that they have difficulty repaying and tinkering with their currency in ways that visitors like me can't understand that must prove frustrating to the locals.  A dollar will get you about 9 pesos at a bank and 12 at the blue rate widely available on the street.
        Note to tourists:  don't use credit cards, don't search for atms, just bring lots of American cash, preferable in hundred dollar bills and your money will go much further in Argentina.
        I've been delighted by my visit to both countries.  Argentina and beautiful and friendly.  Buenos Aires is big and sophisticated, a blend of edgy new architecture and buildings constructed more than a century ago when Argentina was among the richest countries in the world.  Santiago is surrounded by snow-covered mountains and filled with cafes and commerce.  As with any major city, both Buenos Aires and Santiago are strings of neighborhoods linked by subway systems that are more than adequate.
         People seem reasonably prosperous and comfortable, but neither nation is immune to the economic challenges that have been cascading around the globe.

         I'm delighted to finally be here and look forward to comparing Bogota with how it first struck me when I visited in the l960s.

Santiago de Chile

First impressions on arriving in Santiago.  It's much smaller than Buenos Aires but has a lot of charm.  We're staying in a neighborhood called Providencia in a lovely apartment that Jim found on the internet.  That's our view from our balcony and it includes the tallest building in South America.  It's magic as the sun sets over the Andes.    This neighborhood abounds with great looking restaurants, shops and residential streets and is right on the Metro.  We'll explore more tomorrow.  Meanwhile it's nice to have a kitchen.

If it's Argentina it must be tango

The Tango!  Sexy, sleazy, with a graceful purity.  We succumbed to tourist fever and attended a tango show.  Near midnight we walked down a mostly deserted street until we came an even more deserted alley with a bored looking guard at the entrance.  He waved us down the corridor to a doorway with a small ticket booth.  Then down several flights of marble steps to a subterranean theater done up in bordello red velvet and gilt with small supper club tables and a fairly large stage.  The audience was mostly gringos, included a few tables of loutish Americans.  Before the show the staff pushed drink,s and photos with the tango dancers on the audience.  We resisted.  The show itself was interesting, the dancers lithe and athletic.  The costumes were one step away from tacky but they looked good on the stage.  The music, supplied by a band made up of a violin, a viola, a bass, drums, two accordian-like instruments and a piano, was surprisingly good and played a number of Piazzola tangos that were wonderful.  We wandered home late in a light rain.

Malls of the Americas

por Jim

      How better to judge a nation than by its malls?  The souks of yesteryear were popular tourist destinations.  So are the malls of today.   Argentina does well in that competition.  In Mendoza we were earlier treated to a block quartered by an arcade with a stained glass roof that was quite pleasant. But that's quite modest by our neighborhood mall here in central Buenos Aires, which has the requisite glass ceiling and many trendy shops, topped by a culture center and performance space.
      We worked it from top to bottom, viewing a Margaret Bourke-White exhibit on the top floor, featuring the iconic pictures, which we had seen before, and blown up proofs from the first issue of Life magazine, which we hadn't and were reminded once again of the journalistic genius of Luce who had the taste to hire such photographers.
      We then went down to the bottom floor, where the food court is located, to sample some of the ice cream that Argentina is justly famous for.  Here's picture that shows the cultural spaces topping the stores.

       This is not our first encounter with a marvelous mall during the course of our travels.  Earlier we happed upon the Larcomar Mall in the Miraflores neighborhood of Lima.  It has the usual complement of good stores and fast food, punctuated by a sweater store where Leslie made a few purchases that had two Peruvian indian women on the floor weaving with backstrap looms.

        An impressive combination, enhanced by the fact that it is invisible from the adjacent busy street.
        All passing traffic sees is a beautiful park that overlooks the Pacific.  Larcomar is carved into the cliff below the park, along with a massive parking lot that runs under the street and exits via a hotel on the other side of the street.
        Both were successful in getting us to spend our money, which is ultimately what the enterprise is all about, in a pleasant environment.  But I was struck by the deft combination of commerce and public spaces -- cultural in one instance and green in the other.

And You Think the Metropolitan Opera House is Grand

Built in 1908 when Argentina was one of the richest countries in the world the opera house seats nearly three thousand and has the best acoustics of any theater I have ever been in.  The house rises seven stories high and the interior is almost entirely gold panels carved with elaborate bas relief scenes.  The dome has a circular mural depicting musical scenes.  Also around the dome are painted the names of Mozart, Beethoven, Bellini, Verdi and others.  Around the perimeter of the hall the names of operas are painted.  The seats are plush red velvet.

We were not able to attend an opera as the season does not open until next month but we managed to hear a wonderful chamber group playing works by Milhaud, Hindemith and other twentieth century works.  The acoustics are so good that a single violin note carried with full resonance up the high balcony where we were sitting.

Recoleta Cemetery

The whispers of the ghosts of generals, politicians and the merely rich and famous drift past in the impressive Recoleta Cemetery, a fortress of tombs and mausoleums rising up to two stories or higher out of the ground.  The fourteen acre cemetery, set in the middle of one of the most upscale neighborhoods in Buenos Aires is a beautiful place to stroll and meditate.  There are nearly five thousand tombs including that of Eva Peron.  Many of the tombs contain whole families for generations.  It appears that in addition to the part you can see above ground most also contain vaults deep underground where many coffins are stored.  Some have glass doors and you can see a small alter and candles in many of them.  The tombs are adorned with statues, mosaics and other art work.

The cemetery was started in the early nineteenth century by monks.  Later it was incorporated into the city.

In typical Buenos Aires fashion of juxtaposing the sacred and profane, right outside the cemetery walls there is an upscale fashion and dining mall.  Also typical of Argentina it is done very tastefully and blends into the surrounding land very well.

Buenos Aires-- Comfortably Overwhelming

por Jim

We're here in the capital of Argentina, a metropolis of 14 million people.  Comparisons abound.  Its got the parks and street life of Paris.  The density of Hong Kong.  The dynamism of New York City.  That seems like a winning combination.   Don't know what the local zoning laws are here, but there seems to be a pattern of simply inserting very modern buildings into a block otherwise comprised of ancient ones -- and it generally seems to work.

From my perspective the resulting chaos makes things more interesting, but that's probably a personal predisposition.  In any event, we're not talking about the consistent design of a place like Brasilia -- or even Georgetown.

We opted to stay in the center city and the result, at least during the day, is busy bordering on frenzied with more than a few big streets turned into traffic-free pedestrian malls, adjoined by big buildings containing mini-malls that seem a modern and more sophisticated version of the souk.

Our adventure today, described by Leslie in an adjacent post, included an introduction to the subway system and farecard use.  The system is a big one, with varied equipment depending on when the line was built.  The first train we took featured cars with plush seats and open windows.  Then we transferred to a cool, modern train with animated maps that was built in China.

The food is good.  The opportunities to hang out in cafes are ample and the habit of waiters of trying to rush customers away by quickly presenting a check is apparently as yet unlearned.  There are musicians performing on the streets and homeless people camping in doorways.  A reminder of New York.

It is big and there's still much to see.  But so far, all seems pretty good.

Welcome to Buenos Aires

Buenos Aires charges at you with a chest bump.  Beautiful but aggressive city.  Traffic fumes and smells of grilling meat fill the air. Our first day here we spent the morning getting acclimated.  After a few false starts we figured out how to get a subway card.  If Jim's Spanish weren't so good I'm not sure we could have done it.  We were first told the post office sold the cards.  So we went to the post office and they sent us to a little corner store to get the actual card.  Then back to the post office to fill it with cash.  I don't understand why the post office doesn't sell the cards but I'm sure there is a good Argentine reason for it.The subway system itself is pretty easy and gets you most places in the city.  Which is good because the streets are so clogged traffic is pretty slow.  Driving here looks even worse than in NYC.  Visited the Casa Rosada (above) the president's residence.  The ghost of Evita Peron hovers over the balconies and it is easy to imagine cheering crowds of thousands in the Plaza Mayo in front.

Farewell to Mendoza

I don't usually blog about food but our last meal in Mendoza at the Tolles Vineyard was spectacular.  So many courses I lost count but I'll try to list a few.  We ordered a prix fix meal so the chef chose the items.  Freshly baked bread with wonderful olive oil came first, then the food started with gravlax with citrus and beets, then a roasted dried tomato on a crustless piece of toast with melted brie.  These served with a white sauvignon blanc wine.

Next came four strips of tender filet mignon, raw served on a plate with a hot stone.  (see above)  You cook the steak but setting it on the stone for a few minutes.  The meat was subtly seasoned and wonderful, melt in your mouth taste.  Then the waiter brought out the hugest T-bone steak I've seen.  Also tender and seasoned well.  The beef is grass fed and is tastier and slightly grainier than American beef.  That dish also came with a roasted potato and a quinoa like grain in a pesto sauce.  Of course every plate looked like a little work of art.  A soft Malbec was served with the meat and the waiter kept pouring.  JIm had a different menu but was equally impressive.  Dessert was a plate of three tiny but delicious little sweets.   I think there were more courses: should have taken notes.

We could have a eaten in a private dining room, just the two of us in a lovely little space, but opted instead to dine on a shaded patio as it was a lovely day.

Several hours after we started we were finally done and decided to skip the vineyard tour and head home for a nap.  We figured wine making in Argentina was probably not that different from other wine tours we had taken, but still a bit sorry we missed it.

We talked a bit with a fellow diner who was a local and was complaining the Mendoza was just wine and tourists.  Which is undoubtedly true but we had a great time.

....Or Is It Memorex?

por Jim

We're now in Mendoza, Argentina.  I've dreamed of visiting Argentina for decades, but am once again troubled as I try to sort out whether Argentina is, in fact, the country of my dreams or whether I am merely imposing a dream I've been perfecting for years and making the parts fit.  As I try to sort things out, I thought I'd offer some visual entertainment, political and otherwise, leaving readers to decide how many words these are worth

There's Always a Parade in Argentina

We arrived in Mendoza, Argentina after an incredibly long day filled with the usual and inevitable airline delays, immigration delays (one agent to process two international flights that had arrived simultaneously) etc.  Ah travel!  But--flying over the Andes was spectacular.  The plane seemed to barely brush the tips of the magnificent range.  As the mountains fell away we could see the beautiful, fertile land of Argentina with vineyards, olive groves, and other agricultural crops.  Everything seems beautifully tended.

The city of Mendoza is small but beautiful and the air is soft and perfumed.  Wine is sold everywhere in bottles decorated with lovely and intricate labels.  If the wine we had with dinner last night is any indication the quality is extremely high.  Although we were exhausted we went out to dinner at a tiny neighborhood restaurant that did not look particularly distinguished but had tasty food.  Home made pasta in a flavorful sauce made with tomatoes and a very tender chunks of beef that were like very long simmered brisket.  Yummy.  The area we are staying in has lots of trees and small plazas with fountains and benches for just sitting around.  Tons of little sidewalk cafes dot the are serving coffee and pastries as well as simple meals and wine or beer.

I think the parade above was a labor demonstration.

History Lesson

por Jim

I was reminded yet again how educational travel can be when the cab driver taking us to the Inquisition Museum began a little history lesson by telling us that the Inquisition had never tortured the Incas.  Instead it was aimed solely at witches, liars and heretics with the aim of getting them to recant.  The Incas were simply killed.

Which led to a conversation about who the Jew was, never repaid, who financed the initial Spanish trips to conquer Peru.  That opened the door the issues of the Jews here today (there are many more in Argentina), Hitler, who our driver learned most Germans believed to be a crazy person during the four years he spent in Germany as a chauffeur, and whether the children of a Jewish man he knew who married a non-Jew would be considered Jews or not.  It was punctuated by his telling of us of his three daughters and how he thinks Alan Garcia will again be elected president, although the cab driver was not a supporter of Garcia's APRA party.  But Garcia, he opined, was the only candidate wise enough to tell different constituencies what they wanted to hear.

Ultimately, he said, those with money won.  My contribution was to teach him the phrase "money talks and bullshit walks" which he found true and amusing after we translated it using his phone that simultaneously goes from talk in one language to text in another.  A pretty impressive piece of technology to be affordable by a taxi driver.

An enjoyable trip, including negotiation over the fare at both start and finish, that was more fun than the visit to the museum itself, which Leslie has described.  After viewing the exhibit on waterboarding, I was left wondering whether the American intelligence community paid royalties to Spain (or Peru?)

Hard to see what the lessons are here beyond suggesting that everything old is new again and that there are some techniques that defy technological change.  Also some musings about human nature and cruelty. 

On a lighter note, careful comparison shopping reveals that those cute little stuffed llamas that captivated out grandkids in Quito and led to two purchases are actually cheaper -- by up to 50% -- here in Lima.  So if you're out to buy little llamas as part of a South American swing, don't buy too quickly.

After another day in the delightful Lima suburb of Miraflores (and how do you spell oligarphy?), we head for Argentina next week.  

Museo de la Inquisicion

l

Today we went to the location where the actual Inquisition in Lima took place.  Only the cellar where many of the tortures were carried out remains.  There is a newer structure built over it.  Some of the actual cells remain.   Several rooms like the torture chamber above contain mannequins re-enacting some of the scenes.  There are scenes of water-boarding, stress positions and various others including the rack (above).  Heretics, Jews and witches were the main targets although sometimes the motives were more political.  And, of course, the church confiscated all property of those convicted and most who came to the attention of the Inquisition were found guilty.  It's all a chilling reminder of the evils that can be done in the world and particularly in the name of religion.  Going to this museum was a bit creepy, but I somehow felt it was something I should see.

Fog in Miraflores

As we walked along the cliffs over looking the Pacific Ocean early this morning the fog was padding in making the world seem mysterious and peaceful.  We are in Miraflores which is little bit north of Lima proper and a lovely residential area.  Mario Vargas Llosa sets many of his stories of the rich and spoiled in this area.  There are a lot of wonderful restaurants, cafes, jazz clubs and artisans.  True to its name there is a profusion of flowers in magenta, scarlet and lemony yellow.

Arrived in Lima

We arrived in Lima, Peru at midnight last night.  Our first look at our hotel, the Gran Simon Bolivar (above) was surreal.  The hotel is a huge pile of early twentieth century beaux arts architecture with rooms to match.  We walked down endless hallways with fifteen foot ceilings feeling like characters in Last Year at Marienbad.   I kept expecting to see Eva Peron pop out of an adjoining room.  The room is sparsely furnished and the although I like sleeping on a hard mattress this was like sleeping on an ironing board.  Mick Jagger, Ernest Hemingway and Clark Gable all stayed here.

To add to the surreal feel the car (above) is parked in the lobby of the hotel which also contains a huge stained glass dome that soars two stories above.  Although the hotel does have its charms and is centrally located we are moving today.

The Golden Cathedral in Quito

A cathedral with an interior entirely encased in 23 carat gold leaf is like a dream fantasy about some mythical kingdom.  But in fact the La Compania Cathedral, just off the central Plaza Grande in Quito was built by the Jesuits starting in 1605.  It took 160 years to build and is truly awe inspiring.  Along the semi-circular arches in the nave are bas-relief painting depicting Biblical stories including Samson and Delilah and the story of Joseph.  There are also two huge paintings on either side of the entrance:  one a Dante-esque one depicting Hell t showing every possible sin available to humankind and The Last Judgement showing people being divided between Heaven and Hell.  The main gold alterpiece and the huge octagonal dome are also covered in gold leaf interspersed with deep scarlet and azure figures.  Angels and cherubs too numerous to count adorn the space.
I spent a lot of time just contemplating and meditating in this incredible space.

Quito Charms

por Jim

Quito is not a city for bikers.  Like more than a few other cities -- Rome comes to mind -- it is built on a series of big hills.  That means the phrase "as the crow flies" isn't terribly helpful to a non-crow tourist.  Fortunately, there's a good bus system with reserved bus lanes and prepaid boarding areas that allow passengers to get on and off with as much speed as in a familiar subway system.  A bit quicker, actually, as I found out when I nearly lost my shoe in a relentlessly closing door.  Better a shoe than a foot.  The better news is that the basic fare to get anywhere in the city is 25 cents.  The best news is that seniors like us pay only half price.

Today we took the express bus to the historic area of the city and inadvertently ended up in the plaza fronting on the presidential palace as the president was hosting a rally devoted to, near as I could tell, saluting his current popularity.  According to a free newspaper distributed to the crowd noted that very few world leaders -- Evo Morales and Vladimir Putin were named-- are more popular.  It was good theater and the uniforms of the military are quite impressive.  Unlike anything I've seen outside of an old American movie musical.

Vendors circulated in the crowd and Leslie got a good deal on a few scarves.  Presumably pickpockets were circulating as well, but I didn't seen any.  The issue was raised later in the day when a fellow bus passenger advised against carrying my cellphone in my back pocket.  Everyone we've encountered has seemed friendly, even when the buses were packed, as they usually are.

We snacked at a small restaurant, of which there are a lot.  All seem cheap.  The few we've tried are good.  There's also a collection of the usual fast-food guys around and a lot of coffee shops where one can hang out and watch the world pass by.  One was the falafel shop where we lunched with our grandson Sylvan who's now teaching English down here.  He gave us a quick brief on national natters, including his sense that the left-leaning president was truly popular with the poor masses of the nation at a time when the economy seemed to be booming generally, particularly in the wealthy neighborhood where he teaches.  He also pointed out that the the politics of the place were reflected in the absence of the large multinational banks like Citi and Bank of America.

As is often the case with such touring, it is pretty difficult to understand what's really going on.  We know the economic boom was initially caused by oil exports, which don't bring in the money they once did.  We know that the economic policies pursued by the government seem unconventional by the standards of those who read and write the Economist.  And we know that the United States has a long record of trying to destabilize Latin regimes that have a left-leaning view of American-style capitalism.  Think Chile, Nicaragua, Cuba and Venezuela (recall the Nixon visit in the 60s).  On the other hand, we seem to be improving our links to Cuba and folks who live by the Monroe Doctrine worry more about Venezuela and Bolivia, and perhaps Argentina, where things tend to seem more crazy than provocative.

The world spins on.  The residents of Quito seem reasonably content.  

Plaza Grande, Quito

We set out today to explore the historic old city of Quito and lucked out when we came upon a ceremony at the presidential palace.  El Presidente up on the balcony, military bands in front of the palace, drummers and trumpets at the central monument and horses with soldiers with swords ringing the whole event.  The troops, dressed in blue long coats, with red and white trim and wearing white breeches tucked into knee high boots were impressive.  Enough brass to outfit a fire house.  Presidente Correa's minions passed out newspapers showing that he's one of the most popular world leaders to his people, topped only by Vladamir Putin.









Quito is a wonderful mix of the old and the new.  There are wonderful old colonial building as well as lots of innovative new architecture.  The air is redolent of tobacco, coffee, with a faint whiff of exhaust fumes.  But basically the air has been pretty clear.

There's lots of good food.  We stopped at a hole in the wall place in the old city and had a terrific bowl of soup with a chicken base, potatoes, rice and wonderful seasonings.

We met our grandson Sylvan O'Sullivan for lunch today during his break from teaching English as a second language.  We're meeting up with the rest of his family this evening for dinner.

First sight of the Andes as we arrive in Ecuador

It was awesome seeing the Andes from the window of our airplane.  The land is so green and fertile and the mountains really are majestic.  After the roads of Nosera, where paving is considered an affectation and all the roads are dirt and gravel, the beautiful highway from the airport made me feel like I was floating on a cloud, rather than being ground in a blender.  We also had a lovely  taxi driver who found our hotel with no problem.  Driving into Quito, we went through a long tunnel and when we emerged we could see houses and large building perched on the sides of mountains like starlings on an oak tree.  So far not too much of a problem from either the high altitude or the pollution.
We're staying a charming and slightly goofy hotel.  We're on the four and a half floor.  That is you take an elevator to the 4th floor and then walk down a half flight of stairs to get to our room.  We're staying in a area that's sort of a low key Times Square.  Very lively and fun.  We found a terrific Ecuadorean restaurant where I had a beautifully seasoned sea bass and Jim had a terrific shrimp and rice dish.  We're looking forward to hooking up with the O'Sullivan family tomorrow.  They're hiking in the Amazon now.

Me Gusta Costa Rica

por Jim

I've a chronic problem when I visit a place for the first time that I was already somewhat aware -- whether my expectations impose a restrictive perspective.  So it was in Costa Rica, which I imagined to be the Switzerland of Central America -- democratic, clean, peaceful, efficiently run and prosperous, a cliche confirmed on leaving today and realizing that the modern airport in Liberia was, in fact, operated by a Swiss contractor.

We were in one small region where there's a focus on tourism, especially surfers, for those who prefer the comforts that money can buy and speaking English.  It serves them well.  We slept at an exquisite hotel where we were well treated.  That's part of the good news.  Part of the less good news was that getting there was less than half the fun, requiring a ride that lasted more than two hours, more than half of which was on a road that had been depaved, which is to say it had once been paved but had lost its surface.  Rougher, but just as dusty, I suspect, as a dirt road in the dry season.

Once there, we had a good time.  There were numerous parties with families and friends, culminating with a wedding on the beach Friday afternoon.  Not only was it the first marriage for the bride and the groom, but it was my first time officiating at a wedding as well.  We all got through it fairly painlessly.  At last report, Jess and Rob are still marrried, so I guess I can notch the whole experience as a success.  Was also afford numerous opportunities to practice  my Spanish, which is probably adequate to get us through the rest of the trip.

Bought a few grenadines from a fruit-peddler on the street after he gave me a sample when I indicated unfamiliarity with the fruit.  It was good.  Subsequent internet research suggests that it is nothing but a pale pomegranate (yellow rather than red).  Who knew?

During our time in Costa Rica, it largely lived up to my expectations.  We left this morning for Quito, which is a much more bustling locale.  Our flight connected through Tocumen Airport in Panama City where, if memory serves, I took my first flight -- on a DC 3 sometime around 1950.  The last time I passed through the airport was in 1968, on my first trip to South America.  Then we spent the night in Panama City during a time of civil unrest there (not particularly unusual, nor uncomfortable for those of us who'd been under martial law in Guatemala for more than a year) largely to get access to the duty-free camera stores, where I bought some 35 mm. equipment that I used for many years. As eyesight fails and technology improves, I've progressed to an autofocus digital camera which takes much better pictures than I could.  For its part, Panama has progressed by allowing camera stores to locate at the airport, allowing today's travellers to avoid a trip downtown.  Prices aren't discounted as heavily as they were in days of yore, tho.

A beautiful wedding and leaving Costa Rica

Our niece Jessica Mickelsen married Rob Simon on the beach in Nosara, Costa Rica.  Jim officiated and the ceremony was beautiful.  Parties...too numerous and raucous to recount but everyone had a great time.  Getting around Nosara where paved roads seem to be an idea whose time has not yet come, was a bit of a challenge.  The tuk-tuk drivers we used did not let that slow them down, even on the darkest of nights.  And the nights are pretty dark,  no streetlights, of course.  But the stars and moon are spectacular.  On our way to the airport to fly to Quito and meet the O'Sullivan family there.