Writings

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Travel Writings

Experiments in creative travel writing...

[Montreal, Canada, April 2006] <in progress>

[Tunis, Tunisia, November 2005]

[Singapore, November 2005]

[Beijing, China, October 2005]

[Bahrain, September 2005]

Mucho Gusto!

Tunis, Tunisia, November 2005.

I danced, I watched, I walked, I noticed, I witnessed, I sat, I stood, I went, and I learned.

I had a Tunisian man walk on my back in a hammam (Arabic public bath—a sublime experience).

I had lamb couscous with a wealthy society wife overlooking the Mediterranean.

I watched one head of state after another address the world on how computers can eliminate poverty (and realized they were all saying the same thing).

I shared my camera with a bunch of Tunisian kids in the Medina (the old part of town) they used up all the film faster that I could say aurevoir,

I had three cute Tunisian women repeat “mucho gusto” non-stop after learning that I was from Colombia.

I was alone in the dark in a XV century palace converted to museum covered with ancient mosaics (and had to turn the lights on myself to be able to see them).

I walked down Tunis´ main street in the late afternoon while hearing and watching thousands of birds above me (another sublime experience).

I had taxi drivers advice me against using a seatbelt while sitting in the front because it is not mandatory.

I noticed how Tunisians interpret the lane dividing lines on the street as actually indicating that the driver should center his car on them.

I had people constantly welcome me to Tunisia and ask me if I like it.

I witnessed the build up to an all out bar brawl while listening to the most poetic live music I have probably ever heard (and I left before it actually happened, if it did).

I sat in the seats reserved for the UK delegation at the WSA gala (and was subsequently kicked out).

I stood in line to enter the expo and saw behind me people from more countries than I’ve seen anywhere else including the NYC subway.

I had to pay 35 dinars for a decent meail in an expo showcasing technology for the poor, when in downtown Tunis a dinner costs only 4

I had dinner with three Canadian independent journalists and learned about the other aspects of the WSIS summit.

I watched a wonderful theater performance followed by great jazz.

I went to a dinner in a fake city with an impressive show that included a snake handler, camels, and fire dancers.

I went through more metal detectors (and managed to slip my film without getting it through the x-ray machines) than I have ever gone through in my life.

I watched wonderful security blunders (you go through the metal detector but your bag does not go through any security check).

I learned that the business center in my 5 star hotel had a typewriter and not a computer.

I meet wonderful people doing work that matters.

Chicken Tikka Masala

Singapore, November 2005.

In Singapore we went to dinner on an island and were not sure the boatman would return to pick us up (he eventually did, but I think he went for a drink while we waited), and upon returning the three policemen standing there with their perfect uniforms insisted that we had to go through a metal detector and they did not check us even though each one of us made it beep and it was exactly the same beep, and I watched a hands on a hard body contest (who ever keeps his hands on a car the longest wins it) and it made me smile because I remembered my first date with Johanna, and how she took me to see a film called hands on a hard body and how she’s so strange I thought, and little did I know that so many years later I would be seeing one live and wondering what it would be like to stand there hallucinating after so many hours, and so I left and I walked through Little India and noticed the same stains on the wall that I had seen in Dubai and wondered again what the stains where from, and thinking again I would ask an Indian friend when I returned because I have many Indian friends, although none of them are in India. I watched young Singaporeans sing and dance “I am so horny” in a packed hotel night club and I had the cook, a very nice man, at an Indian restaurant in Little India insist that I get a chicken Tikka Masala in addition to my order while saying that he would get me a small one only to have the manager give me a 50% discount and apologize because I was unable to eat all of that delicious food, and how I wanted to take it all with me and give it to someone homeless because it would go to waste and having the waiter laugh at me and tell me that I was in Singapore and that there were no homeless people to give my food to and so I tried to convince him that I had not touched certain portions and that he could serve them to another customer, but I think he was not convinced and threw it all away, unfortunately. It was nice hearing the sounds of lions roar in the night safari right after Wolfgang told me we had missed them because we had made a wrong turn, and eating meat inside a zoo, I thought was quite ironic, the tables were giraffe-themed and we were eating some kind of meat that could very well be giraffe meat, not that I’ve ever tried it but what is the difference, I don’t understand, but in any case I have no desire to eat giraffe meat if they ever sell it, but I suppose I would eat it since I do eat meat.

If You Want To Play It’s 300 Yuan

Beijing, China, October 2005.

It’s sometimes interesting for me to return to a city after a first visit because I　often discover a completely new city. Everyone talks about China these days and what could be more symbolic of the changes than going to a night club only to see a man dressed up in full police uniform just like those men that stand in the middle of Tiananmen square that Chinese people are still afraid of and seeing him do a strip show in the middle of the dance floor? Maybe the pneumatic dance floor itself, which was quite an interesting shock—is it the beers or is it me. I had noticed how rhythmically everyone was jumping up and down together and quite amazed at the coordination of so many, mostly drunk people. The beers were being sold at the incredible deal of 3 for the price of 2 which meant that every time I got a drink I would come back with 3, which wasn’t so bad because I had 3 drunk friends to share them with who did the same but they were not always around so in the end I think I must have gotten about 6 drinks which was 18 beers out of which I probably drank more than 10, but before I drank so many I did say hello to a girl that was standing near the bar and she immediately said “if you want to play its 300 Yuan”. I really wanted to know what that meant because play means different things in different countries and 300 Yuan was a lot to just play, and play what anyway. So the answer was just 300 Yuan just to talk and dance and I told her she was very pretty but thank you but no thank you and later I found that recently this is common practice in Beijing and many female college students charge men in clubs just to dance and talk to them. Those Chinese are clever I thought, I mean, there I was, in the middle of communist China seeing capitalism flourish and hell, men pay women all the time anyway in many countries, who hasn’t bought a girl a few drinks just to talk and dance. On the night before my last night I was on my way to meet my drinking buddies once again when I went through a pedestrian tunnel and there was one guy singing and playing the guitar with a friend standing next to him. This guy was so amazing that after I crossed the street I decided to skip meeting my friends and sit down and listen to this amazing artist. I made a video and listened to beautiful Chinese pop songs for a long time and as I write this I can almost hear the melodies. Out of nowhere appeared an Italian girl who spoke enough Chinese to translate to them that I wanted to invite them for a drink. She then invited all of us to her farewell-from-China party and we all went to a restaurant and then to her hotel with all her friends to listen to him signing and to her other Italian friend singing all night as well. And it turns out he had been a military guy, one of those that stands on Tiananmen square for hours day in and day out and he made his living playing music in that tunnel and his friend was not his friend but a hairdresser who had just arrived to Beijing from the countryside and that’s why he was carrying a big suitcase.

By Chance

Bahrain, September 2005.

This was one of coldest places I have visited, only because outside it was almost 40 degrees and inside the air conditioners made it mandatory to wear a sweater. I have to say that women wearing the full head dress are very sensual, I could only see their dark eyes and what is more expressive than the eyes. All we need to communicate is eyes. Walking through a poor neighborhood I bumped into a makeshift flea market with only one or two vendors on each corner and I thought it would be really cool to buy a watch from them, so I approached one of the vendors and I noticed he had all the watches laid out nicely but he also had some in a box, and I liked the ones in the box so I asked him what the difference was. “These are by chance,” he said. By chance.. So I guess I need to play a game, but how am I going to figure out how to play the game? So I said what do you mean by chance? And he said “sometimes work sometimes don’t work” and so I decided I didn’t want to take the chance because I wanted a watch that worked.