thefutureisred

Picturing the Body As A Child's Painting Canvas

A woman from China Health Trends magazine contacted me recently asking me for photos of us to include in an article she's writing about long term travel. So I turned to our handy external hard drive, where a copy of every picture we've taken since getting a digital camera lives.

Such nostalgia. I lost myself in a swirl of photos from my pregnancy through Lila's toddlerhood in Brooklyn and to all the places we've traversed since our departure.

This particular image takes me back. See the high chair? We spent hours choosing that thing. Somehow these decisions seem so much more important at the time, particularly when you only have one child. We finally opted to go with this plastic IKEA job, because it was cheap and easy to clean.

This photo also makes me realize how our past connects to present and future. Lila has loved painting and drawing for as long as I can remember. Our friends Ken and Hanako gave her a first birthday gift of bathtub crayons. She drew all over the walls, the tub, the counter. She painted with non-toxic kid paint, yogurt, chocolate pudding. Her favorite canvas was her own body.
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I mentioned Lila's body art to a NY painter friend of mine. She was horrified. She's all for creativity, but insists it must stay on a real canvas. I was surprised. I enjoy the impermanence of the body canvas. Similar to Buddhist sand mandalas, the artwork is ephemeral, but instead of ritual destruction, the child simply grows up, changes, and the original canvas disappears forever.

But I digress.

The memories showed me how the seeds for What Lila Draws and  What Lila Sees were planted early on.

Lila took a look at this picture and asked me why she was painting on her body and the table. "Do you want to do that now?" I asked her? "No, I like paper," she said. And Styrofoam, cork, rubberbands, sticks, shells and leaves. I wonder what she will grow into next.

When Money Divides You: The Difference Between Tourist and Local

Last week, I wrote about scams and how to avoid them while traveling based on an experience I had with a cab driver in Buenos Aires. The comments on that post raised an important point. There is a marked difference between tourists and locals, particularly when traveling through the so-called developing countries. Most times the distance can be measured monetarily.

In Bocas del Toro, a sign at the local boat dock advertises one dollar for the short boat ride across the bay to Isla Carenero, the island where we lived. That price drops to fifty cents if the boat guy knows you. And if you're family or a close friend -- often one and the same in Bocas -- you might just hitch a ride for free if a tourist is already going your way.

Locals often assume that travelers are loaded, and most of the time, it's comparatively true. Backpackers tend to carry a lot of cash. Bloggers stash laptops and cameras in their specialized padded backpacks, also not cheap. Even the most frugal will usually have an ipod. Imagine that your third-hand beaten down ipod costs more than a month's even a year's salary to many people across this planet.

But just because a traveler has more money than a local, does that mean we should necessarily pay a higher price for the exact same service?

On the one hand:  What difference does that fifty cents make to you? How much more would it mean to your boat driver and the family he supports?

Matador Travel talks about 10 Conscious Choices To Make On Your Next Trip in order to be a more responsible traveler which includes supporting local businesses. It also suggests you look at locals and see them not as beggars just looking for handouts, but really seeing the local boat man or the woman selling empanadas out of a bucket as people. 

That's much harder to do when you know your empanada costs more simply because you weren't born locally. How are you supposed to look at the boat guy as just another human being when he looks at you as if you're little more than a human money dispenser? In addition, when all tourists agree to pay a higher level of pricing, the entire economic structure inflates, ultimately impacting locals as well.

Then there's Poverty Tourism, also so viscerally known as "Poorism." The concept, in its idealized state, allows those with travel money to connect with those who not only don't have travel money, often don't have adequate housing, schooling, clean water or shoes. But really, how often is the reality of a concept ideal? Poorism, and I sort of choke a little every time I type the term, by its very nature posits two separate groups of people. The Haves and the Have-Nots. The Us and the Them. What sort of real connection can be made under such circumstances?

Well, those with money are more likely to give if they see who they are helping. Would it mean more to know your ten dollar contribution to Bocas Education Service Organization (BESO) goes directly to buy shoes, uniform and backpack for a little girl named Rita, the adorable six-year-old whose hair is tied back with her favorite ratty pink ribbon? She's lived on the island her whole life, and without your help, she probably won't go to school. With an education, she can read, write and suddenly has the opportunity to be a teacher or work in a local business. Without an education, if she can't find a job cleaning for a dollar an hour or less, she may well end up in Changuinola working as a prostitute by the time she's fourteen.

Sounds harsh, but all too true, and you're not likely to find this reality in your average vacation photos.

So, must we simply accept the reality of separate pricing? The local one for those who live on less and one for those of us who have the money to travel. Or should we rail against this system, thus putting tourists and locals on the same level, eating the same foods, going to the same places and interacting as equals.

What do you think?

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Photos courtesy of Alex Barth and bradipo's Flickrstreams

How To Avoid Being Scammed When Traveling In A Foreign Country

Every seasoned traveler knows better than to hop into an unmarked car with a random driver in a large and foreign city, right?

 But this particular day, I was on my way to the Aeroparque Jorge Newbery in Buenos Aires in a licensed radio taxi that I found in the established taxi line outside of Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires. I knew where I was, where I was going and how much it should cost.

So when he dropped me off at a little parking lot across the street from the airport, I was taken off guard. He refused to accept the ten pesos note in my hand, even when I said he could keep the change. According to this guy, Radio Taxis in Buenos Aires only accept 100 peso notes.

Yeah, dude, right. Do I look like a mark?

Here's the scam. You pay with a 100 peso note. The driver, who of course doesn't have change, says he's going to get some. When he returns, he will not have change and will hand your bill back to you. The bill returned will be counterfeit which you probably won't notice until the next time you reach into your wallet to pay for something. And because you're a tourist, it will be assumed that you don't know where you are, don't speak the language and that you have large amounts of money on you.

Here are some easy ways of detecting, avoiding or extricating yourself from scams such as this one.

Your Scam Artist Tries To Separate You From Other People

This guy parked across the street from the airport. I could just barely see the entrance but was too far away for anyone to see me.

Parking far away accomplished two things. It allowed him to sit without being rushed away by airport security or having our ensuing argument noticed by anyone. It also put me off guard, because while I could see the entrance, I didn't know for sure it was the Aeroparque entrance, and I couldn't recognize my surroundings.

Hables Espagnol?

This driver gave me all sorts of random and misleading information in Spanish. He told me I'd have to pay a toll, that he doesn't accept 10 peso notes and gave me instructions to get to the airport along with a lame reason for why we parked so far away. In doing so, he established that I was indeed an extranera and in many cases, the string of quick spanish would be extremely confusing.

If you don't understand something, ask for a repeat. Ask as many times as you need until you understand.

If Something Sounds Ridiculous, It Probably Is

I do speak Spanish and did understand what the cab driver told me, yet I still found myself confused because what he was saying didn't make any sense. What licensed cab on this planet won't accept small bills in cash?  Quite frankly, most times, people won't accept 100 peso notes because it means they'll have to run off in pursuit of change.

When your instinct whispers "Hmm, that's not quite right," listen loudly.

Pushy Is A Sign Something Is Wrong

I told him I only had ten peso notes. He insisted I had to have more. Then he not only instructed me to go through my bags to get the rest of my money, he even reached into the back seat and grabbed a wad of dollar bills right out of my wallet.

No matter how well traveled you are or how much experience you have, it's easy to be discombobulated by tiredness. Also, you don't know where you are, don't know local custom. Many of us try to err on the side of cultural oversensitivity, but no one has the right to invade your personal space like this. Ever. If you are not comfortable with something someone says or does, be loud, make your intention clear and screw cultural sensitivity.

Which brings me to my next point.

Don't Be Afraid To Call Attention To Yourself

When this guy grabbed my money, the New Yorker in me popped to the surface, I started yelling. "NO. Don't do that. Give my money back NOW." A show of force tells a would-be-scammer that perhaps you're not as easy as he thought. And by shouting, you alert others that something not-so-kosher is going on.

My shouts caused the driver to immediately return the money he had taken, and because I continued to argue with him, refusing to give into any of his demands, he finally gave up.

That's How We Do It Here, Foreigner

A scammer will try to convince you that you don't understand how it's done because you're from another country. He will probably pretend to be angry and offended. Of course, there's some truth in his words. There will be many times you make mistakes, because you don't know the local custom. You will say the wrong thing and probably embarrass yourself. Most people understand and beyond teasing, won't be offended or upset. When someone gives you a hard time for making a cultural mistake or tries to make you feel stupid, that's another sign you're dealing with someone who isn't entirely honest.

Of course, you might also just be dealing with an asshole, in which case, all the more reason to stand up for yourself.

Orient Yourself Before You Arrive

There are plenty online resources that help you orient yourself to a new city before arriving. Google an online tourist map. Figure out where the airport is in relation to where you want to go. You can also check To and From the Airport, an excellent resource that gives you all methods of transportation to and from major airports in the world. Here, you can get an idea of distance and more importantly cost of your ride. Finally, you can ask on web forums like Trip Advisor, Couchsurfing or even Twitter to help you gather information and tips on getting around.

Report the Motherducker

There are a million reasons to pass off an event like this without reporting. This guy was only after money. I wasn't in any physical danger. He didn't threaten me. I made it to the airport in time for my flight. Even if he had been able to scam me, it would have only been for 25 dollars.

Still, I noted his name and license number and had a little chat with the nearest police officer when I arrived at Jorge Newbery. Why? Because no one has a right to treat me or anyone else this way. This time, he was only after a bit of money from someone he assumed was loaded with cash. You never know what happens next time, and he will do it again.

Photo courtesy of Diego3336's Flickrstream

World Blog Food Day: When Pancakes Drive You Wild

Welcome to World Blog Surf Day. Where you start at one blog and surf from one to another, one expat to the next, making your way around the world. South America. Japan. Phillipines. Canada. Bulgaria. Czechoslovakia. Turkey. And you'll have to ride the wave of blogs to explore the rest.

For those of you visiting here for the first time, please subscribe to my RSS feed or if you prefer subscribe to have posts e-mailed directly to you.

This year's World Blog Food Day theme: Food. Foods we love. Foods we hate. Foods we miss. And foods we'll share with you. Food in Argentina is excellent. Asados, empanadas, pizzas, picadas and dulce de leche. 

Saltenos boast the best empanadas on the planet.  While I may be biased, I would be hard pressed to disagree. They're smaller than the empanadas you find in other countries and you have your choice of cheese, meat and chicken. Sometimes you'll also find corn and tuna. Sometimes, you'll find them fried, but most times baked. Some of the best I've had were at a place called Casa de Empanadas off the main square in Cafayate. There, you'll find varieties such as mixed vegetables flavored with Torrontes white wine or a four cheese that includes goat and blue cheese.

Empanadas, though, are never, and I repeat never, sweet. To suggest a sweet empanada -- say with a pie crust dough filled with gooey apples or chocolate and banana -- is tantamount to treason. It is not even a funny joke.

Picadas: a selection of meats, cheeses, maybe throw in some excellent olives grown in the Cafayate region and serve with a glass of wine. The wine in Argentina compares favorably to the best vineyards in the word.

Still, I often find myself fantasizing about foods found in the United States, especially breakfast.

Argentinian breakfasts consist of strong, excellent coffee and usually some toast, maybe a croissant-like creature called a media luna and, well, that's it. Your toast will come with marmelade or dulce de leche. Your coffee will be heavily sugared.

I crave big American breakfasts of eggs, meat, cheese, toast with butter. Maybe an omelette, fried eggs. Oh, and egg sandwiches. The deli near our place in Brooklyn made the best egg and cheese on a kaiser roll known to man. A true Brooklyn speciality.

I also love the early morning brunches at Cafe Luluc on Smith Street. Trust me, order the pancakes. Or Bar Tabac  (WARNING: this website plays very loud music) on the other side of Smith, a French bistro with a fresh juicy burger on a brioche roll and moules frites.

Desserts in Argentina tend toward cayote, squash preserves, served with walnuts or quesillo, a fresh cheese similar to mozzarella, with honey, figs or other sweet syrupy concoctions. It's very good, but to an American dessert lover, cannot satisfy like cheesecake and canoli at Monteleone's on Court Street.

Of course, no discussion about Brooklyn food would be complete without a mention of Sahadi's on Atlantic Avenue. Their selection of cheese rivals any gourmet shop in the city and is much cheaper. The best part, though, is the dry goods section where you take a number then wait your turned to choose from bin after bin of nuts, dried fruits, candy and so much more. I was always amazed at the patience of the men working the counter. No matter how busy, no matter how many customers waiting in line, they always smile, never rush you and never fail to offer you a taste of this or that.

Now as I end this review of Brooklyn and Argentinian food, I want to present a new feature to The Future Is Red. I want to start introducing you to the other blogs i love to follow. This week, I can think of only one that deserves it's place in a list of favorite foods.

Shannalees Food Loves Writing. I jump the second I see she's posted a new article. I love her recipes and writing, but the fantastic photos she posts of foods she makes and foods she finds in front of her at restaurants absolutely make my mouth water. Food porn is what I call this. These pancakes make me want to take my monitor to bed. 

Shanalee's site offers the clean, professional view of a chef -- even though she claims she can't really cook -- with the comfortable, homey feel of sitting having coffee in the kitchen with your best friend.

And now, onto the next blog for World Blog Surf Day. Onto CoCreatr, the tale of a German living in Japan.

Photos brought to you by blmurch, Sondyaustin and of course Shannalee's Food Loves Writing.

Happy International Couchsurfing Day!!!

Couchsurfing began ten years ago today. TEN YEARS!!! Hard to believe.

I've been surfing for almost three years now, and have been what's known as an ambassador for about a year and a half.

What's an ambassador, you might ask? You're someone who loves Couchsurfing, loves the community and has been involved long enough or actively enough to be considered an expert of sorts. You realize, you want to be more involved.

How do you become an ambassador? You apply.  There are five levels of ambassadorship, including a new category called a Family Ambassador. In short, your profile represents the interests, abilities and needs of an entire family. I have considered moving to this level, but am happy where I am now as a Nomadic Ambassador. That means I move around a lot, connect with local communities wherever I go. Go to Couchsurfing's Description of Ambassadors for all the information you could possibly want or need about being or becoming an ambassador.

Check out Couchsurfing's latest edition of  Wanderlust, the online magazine dealing with all things Couchsurfing, for more information about International Couchsurfing Day.

I'll also be posting updates throughout the day on @couchsurfing including tips from other Couchsurfers around the world, information on local meetups and more.

Birthday image courtesy of Tela Chhe's Flickrstream

Blog Break: Family Comes First

As many of you know, my dad is having surgery tomorrow. I'm in Atlanta to help out as much as I can and really need to focus on what's going on here. Thus, I won't be able to post regularly for the next week.

I will be participating in World Blog Surf Day on June 13th, though -- a day for expat bloggers to talk about food and connect with other expat bloggers.

I'm the only one representing from South America!!! And I'll be featuring foods I love, foods I miss and maybe a bit of food porn, too.

Thank you to Sher of Czech of the Beaten Path and Anastasia Ashman of Expat Harem for setting up and arranging.

What Lila Sees: Photography From A Five-Year-Old

Months ago, I had the idea to post Lila' photography. I put up one gallery and there the idea sat. Children's photography as a window into the mind of a child? It's a great idea. I've had nothing but positive feedback on this section and even heard from a few people who said the section inspired them to hand a camera to their own children.

I finally uploaded new photos last night.

Taken by Lila at the Atlanta Chili Festival, Autumn 2008

The timing of this, though, isn't simply just so. I uploaded them for a reason. I'm applying for a grant to expand the What Lila Sees section. Over the past few weeks, I've been writing and research art, perception, psychology, education and child development in an attempt to narrow down my proposal to a clear, well defined and compelling project. I believe I am almost there.

You'll also notice a new section entitled What Lila Draws. This showcases a small selection of her artwork over the past couple years. This section, also serves in relation to the proposal.

The following is the short description of my project:

I am designing an online gallery space featuring primarily, although not exclusively, children’s art in an effort to explore works that shift the perceptive experience, turning the familiar into something new. The project will use social media to locate artists internationally in order to develop new exhibitions for the gallery while facilitating collaboration, community and an open dialogue on “seeing for the first time."

The final proposal is due Monday, June 8. That also happens to be Noah's birthday and the day I leave for Buenos Aires to catch a flight home to be with my parents while my dad has an operation. Needless to say, this is a hectic time.

Whether or not I actually get this grant, writing the proposal has been quite the learning experience, and whether or not I win the money for my project, What Lila Sees will move ahead.

In the meantime, enjoy these new photos. I'd love to hear your feedback on them, the proposal or any thoughts you have for the expansion of this area of my site. Oh, and feel free to wish me luck on finishing the proposal.

Picturing Beautiful Women Out Dancing at Balcarce

They talk about Salta as a woman. Salta la linda, they call her. You may also meet her friend, Cerveza Salta Negra. A gorgeous dark beer and again I am in love.  Perhaps I wouldn't be quite so enamored with this thick, chocolately beer if I didn't live in the city. But I do and I am.

Here, you see her reflection in the window of a nightclub in Balcarce.  Balcarce is to Salta what the East Village is to NYC (minus the riots), Smith Street is to Brooklyn (minus the Brooklyn House of Detention), Elmwood Avenue is to Buffalo and what East Atlanta Village is to Atlanta.

Sundays, during the day, barricades block the street to traffic, allowing local artists to set up shop. Here, you'll find some of the most chic and varied restaurants of the city. There's even sushi, truly surprising in a place where asado, fiambres --platters of meats, cheeses, olives and the like -- and empanadas reign. Saltenos and visitors flock to this bantam weight, but growing, neighborhood for a drink or dinner.

My night culminated at one of the many Balcarce night clubs dancing to reggaeton - note, originated in Panama - with Damien, our latest couchsurfer from Australia, and Amelia, Paola and Daniela, Salteno couchsurfers, The night, I must admit, is a bit of a blur as we celebrated the imminent departure of Amelia and Daniela, sisters, for Israel by drinking bottle after bottle of a very sweet, fizzy wine.