Cartagena de Indias
Bolívar Department
Colombia
November 14, 2008

Dear Family and Friends,

From time to time, my curious friends ask, "Jan, how are the ladies there?" (Wherever "there" is.) So their "inquiry" regarding "Las mujeres Colombianas" was no surprise.

How shall answer the question about Colombian women without exacerbating my own proclivity for hypertension and without interfering with any cardiac control devices out there? I'll do my best:

{C}

Berastagi 
North Sumatra
Republic of Indonesia

June 29, 2008

Meine Kinderlein,

In the summertime, when I was a young boy, my parents scooped me off the streets of New York and carted me and my sister Paula up to "the mountains." "The mountains" is how we New Yorkers refer to the Catskill Mountains, a cool two-hour drive north of the hot City.

The mothers and children usually stayed all summer. The women played mahjong and canasta and tended to their family. We children swam, played ball and took short hikes. We put on shows. The big event every day was when the bundle of mail was delivered to the RFD mailbox on the main road. We argued over who would sort the letters and bring them to the families. And once a week, the Krug's Bakery truck showed up. They had the best powdered donuts and crusty blueberry pies you ever tasted. With home made ice cream on top.

The fathers came up from The City on Friday night. Mom was cooking happily and we anxiously-awaiting kids always sang, "Daddy, what did you bring me?" Daddy drove back to work early Monday morning. Much later I learned that the round-trip weekend drive was known affectionately as "the bull run."

In "the mountains" there was a well-established institution known as the "Kukh-aleyns”.  "Kukh-aleyns” literally means to cook alone or to cook for yourself. Here's the way it worked: in a large boarding house, several families had a bedroom room or two upstairs. On the main floor was a spacious, open area with ten or fifteen small kitchens, side by side. Each kitchen had a stove, sink, a refrigerator, some cabinets and a dinette set. Every mother cooked alone for her children, and each family ate separately, but all at the same time in the large and noisy dining room.

I thought that the"Kukh-aleyns”was indigenous and unique to The Catskills. Turns out that the idea is centuries old and practiced until this very day in the Batak villages in the Karo Highlands of North Sumatra.

Bukit Lawang
North Sumatra
Indonesia
June 27, 2008

Dear Family and Friends,

The Rindu Alam Hotel sits along the banks of the Bohorok River, a rocky, mountain stream that runs into the Batang Sarangan, a river that flows northeast into the Selat Melaka, the Straits of Malacca and the Andaman Sea.

The Bohorok is what you would expect from a jungle-mountain stream -- rough, cold water, lush green hills nearby and a blue-gray sunset that consumes the batteries in my camera.

A victim of the flash flood that tore through here five years ago, the Rindu Alam has newly furnished rooms and many young trees and flowers. But I didn't come here to see the flora. I came for the fauna.

{C}

Beijing

China

January 8, 2008

Dear Family and Friends,

“The rich are different from you and me.” They have homes and compounds in Palm Beach or Palm Springs, or Beverly Hills or Pocantico Hills, on Cape Cod or Cape May, or in Oyster Bay or South Hampton on Long Island.

Royalty are very different. HRH the King of Thailand owns a palace on the seashore and one in the mountains as well one in the capital. South of Thailand, the Sultans of Malaysia collect Rolls Royce motorcars. And the Maharajas of India? Do they collect everything?

Drawn by the curiosity of a bourgeoisie, I eschew the public bus of the hoi polloi and engage a driver and automobile for an excursion to the imperial retreat of “my betters” in Beijing: The Summer Palace of the Emperors of China.

And today I am alone. I am the sovereign of my day.

Harbin

China
January, 11 2008

Dear Family and Friends,

"Oh, my goodness!"

The airplane from Beijing descends through the clouds towards the Harbin airport. I stare at the landscape below and I think, "Oh, my goodness!" Actually, "Oh, my goodness" is not the exact phrase that comes to mind. "Holy cow" is a little closer but still not 100% accurate.

Deserted roads and snow-covered farms spread out everywhere like an Amish quilt that landed in a vat of bleach. Smoke from a tall smokestack rises in a disturbing pattern; it blows horizontally.

"Be happy where you are, Jan. What did you expect? Tropical waves washing up against white sand? Coconut palms, maybe, swaying in a light breeze? You are in Harbin for the Ice Lantern Festival. Harbin. 45 degrees North Latitude. North of Vladivostok and halfway to the North Pole. Ice, Jan, ice. Think ice."

Xi`an
Shaanxi Province
China
January 16, 2008

Dear Family and Friends,

Whenever I tell my Chinese friends I am going to Xi`an, they always respond with, "Jan, you are going to an ancient city."

It is difficult to imagine that modern Xi`an, with a population of more than three million, is an ancient city. Yet, ancient it is.