June 2010

Off to a Good Start in Mexico

by Ekua on June 19, 2010 · 9 comments in Mexico,solo travel

At 4:15 am, the airport shuttle finally arrived 30 minutes after it was supposed to. The driver was angry because in the dark, he could not see the number on my place and had been roaming up and down the street. I smiled and nodded which obviously annoyed him more. Yes, we were both up at a ridiculous hour and he was as tired as I was, but understandably, he didn’t have heaps of excitement to negate it.

I love the ride to the airport when you have to let go of everything you think you should have done. No matter what you might have forgotten to do, there’s no turning back. You have not choice but to let it all go and submit to your journey.

After a flight full of large and loving Mexican families, teenage post graduation beach partiers, and “romantic” vacationers hopelessly attached to their individual laptops, Mexico City finally appeared. Sprawling, smoggy and crowded, from above, I could see that it oozed hyper-citiness. Viewing the large expanse below me, I was actually excited to see what I would discover in it.

An overpriced authorized taxi took me from the airport to my hostel which was located on a quiet street in the Coyoacàn neighborhood and housed lovely courtyards within. As it is low travel season in Mexico and we were far from the center of the city, there were not many travelers staying at the hostel. But the few I met were immediately friendly. Americans, Mexicans, Scandinavians and an older couple from New Zealand. Conversations were started quickly as people gathered at computers, in the living room, and in the courtyards.

I settled in and took a walk to the Frida Kahlo house, unfortunately just in time for a heavy afternoon downpour. I bought a little bag of peanuts from a corner store and stood under an awning with an old man until the heaviest of the rain passed. I made my way to the Frida Kahlo Museum, also know as La Casa Azul, which is where Frida was born and where she died. The house is as creative and aesthetically pleasing as I would have expected given that it once housed Frida and Diego.

Later, I found myself hanging out with a fellow hostel mate from the Michoacan State and his friend from Mexico City. One of them said to me, “It looks like your trip is getting off to a good start. It’s your first night in Mexico City and you’re drinking beer with locals. If I were you, this is exactly what I’d want to be doing right now.”

Adding character to the night was the fact that were on the roof of the hostel and we had a free show put on by a lightning storm in the distance. And my new companions were travelers as well, so the conversation rolled on with the ease of people who identify with each other before they really know each other.

It was the kind of travel day I love—simple, observational, and conversational. And up on the roof, I had the best ending to a fantastic start.

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A Letter to Mexico

by Ekua on June 10, 2010 · 11 comments in Mexico

Dear Mexico,

I have neglected you. Living in California most of my life, you’ve often seemed too close and familiar to me. I don’t have leave my state to enjoy your culture and fantastic cuisine.

Many times I’ve rejected you in favor of more far-flung seeming places. I never even had a college spring break experience with you. I thought that a couple trips just beyond the border were sufficient. But there’s so much more to you than that.

Here in Mexico City, I’m only beginning to realize all I’ve been missing out on. Yes, your capital city does feel very familiar to me, but it is wonderfully distinctly Mexican despite an obvious American influence.

This summer I plan visit your cities, explore your culture and maybe hit up a beach or two. A national park would be great as well. Still, I will barely begin to make up for my neglect… but I will try.

Sincerely,
Ekua

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Photo Essay: A Creative Side of Las Vegas

by Ekua on June 5, 2010 · 2 comments in captured on memory card,Nevada

The afternoon that I escaped from the pool club party, I had a chance to see that Vegas is not completely about illusion and generic over-consumption. In its extravagance, Vegas provides room and opportunity for colorful bursts of expression and creativity.

» At the Bellagio

While walking down The Strip, I came across Bellagio’s “lake” and hung around to see if I could catch the water show. It was pretty damn hot so after waiting for awhile, I decided it was best to go inside for a heat and bathroom break. On the ceiling, I noticed these lovely miniature hot air balloons. They were obviously inspired by hot air balloon festivals, one of which is held annually in Las Vegas.

My timing was perfect. As soon as I walked out of the building, a water show began. I tried to ignore the fact that it was choreographed to the most cheesy song possible, and hoped that the water used for it was recycled because the show was stunning. Way more than I imagined it would be. I know the word “breathtaking” is supposed to be a travel writing no-no, but in this case, I think it is appropriate.

» The Art of Richard MacDonald

Back at the CityCenter where our hotel was located, I came across a couple of art galleries. The first one I stopped at was full of sculptures by Richard MacDonald that were all based on Cirque du Soleil performers. I have to admit that I have never been interested in seeing Cirque du Soleil, but after taking a look at MacDonald’s emphatic and ornate sculptures, I feel inspired to go. As an added bonus, MacDonald was there that day, chatting it up with gallery visitors.

» Chihuly Glass Sculptures

When I visited Italy nine years ago, it was the first time I saw how much could be done with glass. I have been a glass art fan ever since. I was sad when I missed a Chihuly exhibition at San Francisco’s De Young museum a while back, so I was delighted when the second gallery I came across was full of his vivid glass sculptures.

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An Existential Crisis in Las Vegas

by Ekua on June 3, 2010 · 8 comments in Nevada,rantastic

The first night in Vegas was tolerable enough. We’d had dinner at a fairly reasonably priced Mexican restaurant in the Venetian. Sure, I was thrown off by fake sunny skies indoors at night, but the food wasn’t all that bad and it was washed down nicely with the pitchers of margaritas we’d ordered.

We went to Tao nightclub which I didn’t find to be all that different from some clubs in Downtown San Francisco—if you multiplied the size by ten, let it get really crowded, and allowed smoking inside. We chatted with fellow clubbers who were pleasant and down-to-earth.

But the next afternoon brought on an experience I didn’t know repulsed me—the Vegas pool club party. Upon arrival at Liquid, in a security process that rivaled an airport, we were made to get rid of any outside food or drink. This was no picnic at the beach. Once inside, I had trouble believing that what I saw was really going on.

::Bringing a bit of Jersey Shore to Las Vegas::

Six inch heels at the pool. Jersey Shore-esque hyper-gelled hairdos. Bleached blond weaves and orange tans. Female chests puffed up with silicone and male chests that appeared to be puffed up with the aid of steroids. All dancing in or beside the pool clutching $15 cocktails and $9 Bud Lights. Hit songs pumping through the ample speaker system and vibrating the ground.

Though it was 90-something degrees, there were very few shaded areas. This obviously allows for maximum orange-ization. There were some umbrella covered beds and we spotted an empty one. We asked a guy working there if it was reserved. Annoyed at our naivety, he responded, “If you want to reserve this, you have to pay 1,500 dollars for it.” He sauntered off before giving us a chance to respond.

We found a spot wedged between the beds of two groups of people who were willing to pay that absurd amount. I took out a book and started to read (sooo not cool), but my book couldn’t distract me from the ridiculousness around me. And I wasn’t interested in laying out to get a tan—I obviously don’t need one. So as the group I was with settled into the scene, I slipped away.

A mosquito had bitten me square on the forehead, but that wasn’t the only thing that made me scratch my head. Questions swarmed my brain. A couple examples: Am I crazy for not enjoying this when so many seem to love this? Do I need to move to Europe?

::A themed slot machine::

::Street performer on The Strip::

I wandered through the casinos and onto the strip to see more of Vegas. What I saw was a desperation and depression that was not covered with a thick coat of saccharin like the pool party scene was. Empty stares and repeated button pressing at slot machines. Visitors who undoubtedly think that’s the real effing Eiffel Tower. Dirty sidewalks and poverty-stricken people panhandling or trying to sell whatever they could to make a few bucks in oppressive heat. Tourists stopping to buy a bottle of water from an unlicensed vendor here and there, but seeming to want to hold on to their funds so they can give them away to the Strip’s 6.12 billion dollar gambling industry.

Some places I’ve visited have made me sad, but none as much as the city of Las Vegas. Long drives through Cambodia introduced me to the despair of the fourth world, but I’d encountered many citizens who were charming and funny and anxious to leave a terror-filled past behind as they moved forward. In Bolivia, I’d seen destitute villages in some of the coldest barren deserts, but I’d been impressed with the colorful traditions and tenacity of the people there. Amongst and in spite of sadness, many places offer hope, character, and substance to latch on to.

No matter how obscure it is, I can come up something valuable in about just about anywhere I’ve been. But there on The Strip, I had an inability to find a silver lining in people’s striving for vacant experiences when they have so many opportunities for meaningful ones.

Don’t get me wrong, I love having a chance to let loose, but I am disturbed by the illusion that goes along with the coveted 21-35ish Vegas experience and the city in general. I’d love to say that I’ll never go back to Vegas, but you never know what will come up. I can say that if I do go back, I would be all up on the nature scene I know is nearby, I would check out the food scene I’ve heard so much, and I would explore the artsy scene that I got a glimpse of after my escape from the pool club. More on that in the next post. To be continued…

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Wanderful Words No. 23: A Las Vegas Preview

by Ekua on June 1, 2010 · 4 comments in Nevada,wanderful words

“The lobby fairly reeked of high-grade Formica and plastic palm trees—it was clearly a high-class refuge for Big Spenders.”

- Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

The Vegas bachelorette weekend has come and gone. A few hours after I returned to San Francisco, I was desperately trying to rehydrate my body while still struggling to understand the appeal of the Vegas experience.

All I will say right now is, wow, what a trip. There is definitely more trip reviewing on the way…

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