So, When Am I Heading Back to Zanzibar?

It's been a week since my last trip to Zanzibar, and I'm already missing it.  Expect a flood of Zanzibar stories, but in the meantime I'll simply post one of the many, many beautiful sunset pictures I took (nobody does sunset like Zanzibar).  However, in seven weeks I'll be in India . . .

I snapped this in front of the Dhow Countries Music Academy before the dinner and concert they always arrange for us.

Fifty-nine is a great number, if you're golfing

If the fates allow I'm in Zanzibar today (and if the nano overlords agree to release this post on time), and I will have turned 59.  Groan.  I'm not aging gracefully, certainly not physically but also emotionally. I'm now a year removed from my promise to myself to wake up on 7 January 2020, my 60th birthday, in some truly exotic, far off the beaten path, location.  It will be my #FuckOldAge gift to myself.  Where am I going?  Well, I guess you'll have to check Facebook and Twitter that morning to solve the mystery.  The first one to solve the mystery get dinner on me.

International Crytozoology Museum

Recently I talked about the passing of my friend and former colleague Richard. On the long drive to his hometown I stopped in Portland, Maine to fulfill a long-standing desire to visit the International Cryptozoology Museum (and knowing Richard's whimsical sense of humor he would have definitely approved).  It was founded by Loren Coleman, who I've been watching on cryptid documentaries for decades.  Sadly, he wasn't there at the moment, because I would have definitely had to break one of my rules about not asking for pictures with people.  It's actually located in a cool and bustling little warehouse area, surrounded by some trendy shops and bars, so there are a lot worse places that you could spend an afternoon.

If you see the large wooden statue of Big Foot you must be there.

Naturally, this shot inspired several Chuck Bashaw memes.

I make so many bizarre little side trips, so I find it hard to believe I've never visited Point Pleasant to see the epicenter of the Moth Man phenomenon.

TechDren

By the time the nano overlords have released this post the New Year will have started, and we will have delivered forty rehabbed laptops to an elementary school on Pemba in Zanzibar. As I've discussed previously on last year's trip three of our amazing young women from ITS decided that they had to do something to help: Jackie, Abbey and Anna.  It touched my heart, but, truthfully, despite their best intentions, I didn't know if it would ever get off the ground.  It this was where I was so happy to be proven wrong.  The young women formed an organization (TechDren: TECHnology for chilDREN) and met weekly. First they had a few laptops, and then a dozen, and then fifty.  And now suddenly, after a local television interview and the support of a local middle school, they have over three hundred.  Recently they met with Green Mountain Power it it looks like they're going to have all the technology they desire for years to come.  Steve Wehmeyer and I have supported them, including in fund-raising, but they've been the driving force from the beginning. They truly are the best that America has to offer.  One of the original founders, Jackie, is back in Hawaii dealing with some health issues, and they've added Ashley.   It's definitely a formidable team, and they've made it clear they want this to continue even after they've graduated.  Recently they made the decision that they want me to find an elementary school in Jordan so that they can bring computers to elementary school kids there.  Amazing.

Here are Ashley, Abbey and Anna, dragging me out to WaltMart the week for Christmas to buy supplies to gift wrap laptops.  It's an honor to work with them.

Thankful

By the times the nano overlords release this post it will be the last day of the year, and I'll be, inshallah, in Zanzibar.  I'm putting off some much needed last minute travel activities to get caught up on some blogging, and in the process also clear up some space on my phone for even more pictures and videos. As should be the case as the year draws to a close I get even more reflective. It's been a long year, and in many ways I won't mourn its passing.  It began with problems in Zanzibar that coincided with the death of my great friend Gary Beatrice, but there were also many wonderful moments along the way. As always I'm most thankful for having my son in my life.  He's a blessing that I know I've never earned.  It was a tough year for him, but also a year where he faced down some challenges and came through even stronger.  He's a much saner, balanced person at thirty than I ever was at that age.  We were able to carve off time on Thanksgiving to get together before he left for work.  I asked him if he wanted to go get a turkey dinner, or whether he'd like a goetta-fueled breakfast or my homage to my mom's faux-Cincinnati chili.  Being Gary, he decided he wanted goetta chili dogs, which are now going to be a tradition. Like his father, apparently he has a talent for creating traditions (thinking back on his invention of Boy's Day when he was a small lad). I love him with all my heart.

And here he is putting the final touches on it: spaghetti on top of the hot dog, and then goetta chili and cheese.  It was not for the weak at heart.

Campo Pequeno

As I am wont to opine, the best travel moments are the most spontaneous and unplanned.  With the obvious exception of seeing my friend Tony on my recent trip to Portugal, the best moment was stumbling across the Campo Pequeno.  I had read about it, of course, but I was busy and didn't put two and two together.  It's the famous, and beautiful, bullfighting ring in Lisbon, and, by sheer happenstance, it was across the street from the conference where I was presenting.  After stopping by the afternoon before the main session to register I was walking back to the, naturally, Campo Pequeno metro station when I spied a building across the street, that looked much like a mosque but also dramatically not much like a mosque, and I crossed the street to investigate.  The building is the Campo Pequeno, the bullfighting ring, and the "look" was not an accident, but rather a reflection of Neo-Arabic architecture that was popular for a while in Portugal in the 19th century. It is still used for bull fights today, although when I was there it was the off-season, but it was open for tours (and it was one of the best 3 euros I ever spent). There are only thirteen bull fights a year there, always on a Thursday evening, and during the off-time they put down a floor and hold concerts or other events.  They can also open the roof. In the basement there's a very posh mall and movie theater, so it's bustling most of the time. Despite my fearsome temper I'm actually a non-violent soul and I don't know if I'd ever attend a bullfighting match, but I suppose you'd have to ask me at that moment. I know I heartily recommend visiting the Campo Pequeno on your next trip to Lisbon.

A classic example of Neo-Arabic architecture, which is what drew me there in the first place.

Christine, my tour guide, who pushed through a nasty cold to give me a first rate tour of the place. I told her about Pemban bullfighting, a distant shadow introduced by the Portuguese, and she was so interested that she googled it during the tour.

This also included taking advantage of the quiet afternoon to take a few swipes at me with the practice bull so that I would work on my craft.

This was the padding on top of the practice bull where initiates learned to avoid the bull while also stabbing it in the hump.

Some of the banderillas on display at the museum.

Here you can get a sense of why the banderilla doesn't come out of the bull.  Interestingly, Christina referred to Portuguese bullfighting as bloodless, and by that she meant that the bulls were not intentionally killed (at least not since 1928) but it's not bloodless like Pemban bullfighting is bloodless.

It all started so well but then the bull got the jump on me and my beautiful day at Campo Pequeno ended, as fitting my life, clumsily.

The museum had a collection of posters promoting decades of bullfighting.

I was fascinated by the furcado who had the job of distracting the bull at the end of the performance.  While there are only about fifty bullfighters in Portugal, about 90% male, there are furcado clubs all over the country.

The furcado are named by, well, the furcado, which is the instrument they use to hold back the bull.

A picture of a furcado in action - and also a metaphor of my decades-long relationship with administration.

The bullring itself.  It hold around 7000 people, with the front row seats running for around 75 euros.  Here the flooring is down in preparation for a Christmas concert.

What Christina referred to as the "nosebleed" seats, which were around 20 euros a piece.  There were also the equivalent of luxury boxes, which housed four to eight people, and are named after famous bullfighters.

The entrance to the posh mall beneath the Campo Pequeno.  Somehow this just seemed to sum up Portugal's complex relationship with its Islamic past.

Tavira

During the Portugal trip I arrived on Friday afternoon (after suffering through a wretched Canada Air Rouge flight and and a hour and a half wait at Customs in Lisbon).  Early the next morning I made my way to the Metro station to begin my journey south to see my friend Tony. They kindly invited me to stay at their lovely home before I took the train back on Sunday afternoon.  On Saturday night we went into the nearby historic town of Tavira which was so beautiful. As I mentioned in the previous post, I have such admiration for Tony and Kathy.  They live such a sane, balanced, purposeful life.

One of the many charming squares in Tavira.

Tony told me that you have to be very careful when you stuck digging in your garden in the area because you never know what you're going to dig up: in this case ruins, some of them centuries old Muslim house and some of them thousands of years old Phoenician buildings.

I took several shots looking from what is called the "Roman Bridge". It's not Roman, but it is very old.  A lovely picture, and I don't even think it's the most beautiful one I took, but this one shows the Christmas decorations in the trees.

The Roman Bridge, replete with Christmas lights.

This picture never quite came together like I wanted it to, but it's still lovely.