Matador Network's Blog, page 2173

Life lessons from a Buddhist monk

Photo: Christopher Crouzet

I linger on my friend Pravin’s porch in Baltimore. I adjust the modest hemline on my white shift dress and comb my fingers through my hair. Then there is nothing left to do but ring the doorbell. After years of friendship with Pravin, whom I consider my dai, or older brother, I have no reason to be nervous. I know more than I knew when I first met him and my Nepali friends. When, against all Buddhist good manners, I’d hugged — no, embraced — a monk friend of theirs goodbye. On this particular day, an even higher-ranking monk is visiting Pravin.

I’m playing tour guide for the day. And I’m uncharacteristically timid. H.E. Khenpo Sange Rangjung Rinpochhe became a monk at the age of seven at Samten Choling Monastery in Ramechhap, Nepal. If the position of the Dalai Lama is similar to that of the Pope, then this lama’s position is similar to that of a Cardinal. He’s devoted his life (and three years, three months, and three weeks in solitary meditation) to achieve his monkhood status. He travels the world to share Buddhist teachings and conduct ceremonies, but mostly from a formal distance on a stage. Pravin has invited me to accompany him and Khenpo Sange on an unofficial trip to Baltimore’s National Aquarium. Pravin will translate for us when necessary and assist me with following traditional customs.

Pravin opens the door for me. I draw a deep breath, exhale, slip off my shoes and step into the house. Khenpo Sange sits in the living room. Unlike Western men who stand to greet women, he remains seated when I walk in. He’s dressed in a red-ochre monastic robe. The morning light coming in from the window glints on the few flecks of silver in his close-sheared black hair.

Pravin is burning an incense of balsam tree leaves that Khenpo Sange has brought from the Himalayas. My friend hands me a silk scarf that’s frayed at the ends. He instructs me to bring it to the lama. I step barefoot before Khenpo Sange and bow with my hands in prayer. He drapes the scarf around my shoulders as he recites passages from memory from the Pustak, or Tibetan holy book. “Om vajra guru Padma siddhi hun,” Khenpo chants, bestowing blessings for a healthy life free from suffering. He and Pravin smile. I take this as a cue that Khenpo Sange has completed the ceremony.

The lama speaks again. “Holly, apshara jastai daykhin cha.” Pravin translates. “Khenpo said, ‘You look like an angel.’” Khenpo Sange goes on. Pravin’s grin fades as he continues to translate. Compared to me, Khenpo says, Pravin is underdressed and his hair is a mess. I laugh to myself because we’re always teasing Pravin about his laamo kapal, or mop of black hair. Khenpo sends Pravin up to his room to change before we leave.

The aquarium entrance is congested. School groups, church groups, and groups of parents with their children flood through the doors. We’re all bottlenecked at the “We Were Here” photo booth located just inside. Normally I’d bypass these touristy gimmicks. Today, I’m commemorating every precious minute with Khenpo Sange. Pravin and I pile our backpacks and gear against the wall. The photographer waiting to click the camera snickers as we shuffle around, finally settling on a respectful pose with Khenpo Sange in the middle. Khenpo gives the girl a thumb’s up.

Khenpo slides his fingers along the glass. A yellow snapper stops. We stop. Khenpo Sange hovers his hand in front of the immobile fish. He smiles at it.

We have backed up the line. One of the employees yells in our ears, “Keep it moving folks! You can’t stand here!”

I’m ready to shoot him down. Why block the entrance with a photo booth? Do you have any idea who this is that you’re shouting at?

I pause and glance at Khenpo Sange to judge his reaction. His face is relaxed. The word zen often gets tossed around, but this is the first time I experience its meaning — if only secondhand. I summon my inner calm and say with sincerity, “Sorry about that.”

We move along. My instinct after a confrontation is to hurry away, but Khenpo maintains a steady stroll. I make a mental note: You can be courteous to others without letting them set your pace. We come to a waterfall pouring over towering rocks into a little fish tank. “In Nepal all the cliffs are outside, here they’re all inside,” Khenpo Sange says.

Children push in front of us. They press their faces to the windows and smear their fingertips across the glass as their wide eyes explore the hidden world brought to the surface. “Look, Mom,” some of them point and yell.

I summarize the information from the exhibit signs at each window of clustered amphibians, reptiles, and fish. Pravin translates: The blue poison dart frog forages for termites and beetles. Jellyfish lack a brain and a heart.

“What do they do with the fish?” Khenpo asks, concern in his eyes. “Who will eat the fish?” He swipes his hand across the tank glass. “Why not just cats and dogs?” he asks. I think he’s implying that fish are not pets, but I’m not sure. I wonder what his advice is for protecting future generations of wildlife without trapping and removing it from the wild. I try to ask, but my questions get lost in translation and the noise of the crowd.

Khenpo Sange sweeps his arm across the glass again.

I look at Pravin. “He’s praying for the fish, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he’s giving them blessings like he did with you this morning.”

Khenpo Sange waves and taps at the glass. The guide in me wants to tell him that knocking on the tank walls, even gently, is frowned upon. The Buddhist-trained side of me refuses to tell a Guru elder what to do.

“He has compassion for the fish,” Pravin says. “He wants all the living beings to be free from suffering.”

We continue to the top floor of the aquarium, where a spiral ramp descends through the middle of a 13-foot-deep Atlantic coral reef exhibit. Sharks and eels encircle us as we walk down the center of the recreated reef. Tropical fish whip around and around the tank. Khenpo slides his fingers along the glass. A yellow snapper stops. We stop. Khenpo Sange hovers his hand in front of the immobile fish. He smiles at it. The fish peers back at Khenpo, it’s one-eyed glance appearing skeptical yet intrigued.

“Pravin, are you watching this?” I whisper.

“I can not believe it,” he says.

Photos: Bottom left – Dipa Moktan. All other photos by author.

No one would believe it. If Pravin weren’t beside me to validate what we’re witnessing, I would doubt my own eyes. Not only do we observe this fish suspended in stillness, but we also sense the energy running from Khenpo Sange to the fish. And back. A slogan of the National Aquarium is, “There’s Magic in the Water.” In this moment, I am sure of it.

I snap a picture for proof. The flash from my camera startles the fish. I’ve broken their connection. I make a second note: It’s better to live life than to document it. The fish darts forward to swim away, but turns back. It looks at Khenpo Sange one last time, as if to say thank you.

We have walked a long time. I imagine Khenpo Sange is tired not only from a long day of walking, but also from imparting his healing energy to others. We rest on a bench and he shows me his cell phone apps.

“Do you have Viber?” he asks.

I hear Bible. I’m confused, but I think maybe he keeps apps of religious texts on his cell phone for reference. To explain, he opens an instant messaging program called Viber and plays a video for me that a friend sent him. We laugh at the little baby dancing and giggling. Khenpo plays it again, laughing harder and grinning bigger the second time through.

He then asks me a question that I understand clearly. It’s a question that I get often: “Do you have children?”

“No,” I say, “my husband and I do not have children.” I hold my breath and brace for the standard response and look of disapproval. I’m relieved when Khenpo smiles.

“You have no worries,” he says. We chuckle. “Family is all things,” he continues. “I no married, but I have family.”

He scrolls through pictures of his family; his students and contemporaries at his monastery in Nepal. I share pictures from my phone of my husband and friends. We don’t need Pravin to fill in the language gaps.

This is the moment that calls for a hug in my culture. But I hold back. Besides, as Khenpo Sange has shown me, there are many ways to communicate emotions and thanks. Ways that overcome crowds, walls, oceans, and even species. So when it comes time to say goodbye, I simply turn to him and bow my head.

40 things good travelers never say

Photo: Juliet Earth

1. “I just couldn’t find the time to use all of my vacation days this year.”

2. “Yeah, the pictures look cool, but I’ve heard it’s really unsafe there.”

3. “For me, it’s first class or no class.”

4. “Can I speak to your manager?”

5. “Sorry, officer, I didn’t know I was supposed to take my shoes off before going through.”

6. “You know, if you’ve seen one church, you’ve seen them all.”

7. “Ooh! Let’s go to Times Square!”

8. “I just can’t seem to fit all of my stuff in one bag.”

9. “Oh god no. I’m not going anywhere in an autorickshaw.”

10. “Is this fanny pack inconspicuous enough?”

11. “Nah, I’d rather not try sushi. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like it.”

12. “I just don’t get these people.”

13. “Let’s just spend a day by the pool, okay?”

14. “We were going to go to Kenya, but then we heard about the Ebola thing and decided to skip Africa altogether.”

15. “Oh man, this will make a great Facebook profile picture.”

16. “I’m tired of shopping around, let’s just grab the next relatively cheap price we see, okay?”

17. “We’re going to try to see four cities in five days!”

18. “Can we just find a McDonald’s?”

19. “If we’re not going to smoke, what’s the point of going to Amsterdam?”

20. “All-inclusive my ass. They didn’t even have Miller Lite.”

21. “They serve their beer warm. I have no interest in going to a place where the beer is warm.”

22. “You know, our cruise ship did a really good job of capturing that authentic Caribbean feel.”

23. “No, I don’t want to go to France. They’re very anti-America.”

24. “I don’t have time to memorize the customs of every country I go to. I’ll do what I like.”

25. “Just yell at them. The squeaky wheel gets the grease.”

26. “God, no one here speaks English. What’s wrong with this place?”

27. “Yeah, the people there just weren’t very…civilized.”

28. “We do it better at home.”

29. “Hey, get a picture of me where the Leaning Tower of Pisa looks like my dick.”

30. “India was dirty. I’m never going back.”

31. “Nope! I have never had traveler’s diarrhea.”

32. “Why go out? This hostel bar is great.”

33. “Booze is illegal in Saudi Arabia, so I really can’t think of any reason to go.”

34. “Gap years always just sounded like a waste of a year to me.”

35. “USA! USA! USA!”

36. “I was drunk the entire time, I don’t really remember the trip.”

37. “God, that call to prayer is annoying.”

38. “I’ll hold it until we find a toilet that’s not a squat.”

39. “I’d rather overpack than underpack.”

40. “I’ll travel when I’m older and have some money.”

What not to do in Buenos Aires

Photo: audreysel

1. Don’t…go to a tango show.

Tango shows are the lazy and overpriced way to see this important part of Buenos Aires culture. Catering to tourists, these shows are grand theatrical spectacles watched while having dinner and guzzling never-ending wine.

Do…go to a milonga.

This is where tango really comes alive. Milongas are dancehalls where lifelong tangueros and novices alike take to the floor with a partner and breathe life into those old, sad, and sexy songs. There are hundreds of milongas in Buenos Aires, some more serious than others. If you want a more relaxed, less pressured ambiance, go to La Catedral — a cavernous, rustic space where just observing is as rewarding as participating. If you’re more confident in your tango skin, La Viruta or Salon Canning are two Villa Crespo institutions, but they’re definitely not for wallflowers.

2. Don’t…do a bus tour.

Word to the wise, Buenos Aires is not a great city for seeing things from a bus. It’s big and sprawling and there’s not much that is interesting to see from afar. Porteños will laud the Obelisco (a large, boring monument on Avenida 9 de Julio) and the Floralis Genérica (a giant metal flower that is supposed to open and close with the sun, but it’s been broken for years), but trust me, these sights look cooler in pictures than they do in real life.

Do…explore the different neighborhoods on foot or by bike.

Walking or cycling around Buenos Aires is the best way to get to know the city. All the different barrios are distinctive — Recoleta is why Buenos Aires is known as the “Paris of the South,” Palermo is the Argentine equivalent of Shoreditch or Williamsburg, San Telmo has an old-worldly European feel, and Almagro is gritty and urban. Buenos Aires is also incredibly flat and cycle friendly, with over 120 km of bike lanes throughout the city and loads of places to rent bikes cheaply. The capital is best experienced like a local, so get out there and pound that pavement like one.

3. Don’t…go to a Starbucks.

This should probably go without saying, but very often people opt for the familiar over the unknown, even if it’s total shit. Why do you think McDonald’s is still so popular?! Argentina is not Colombia, and it can be tricky to get a decent cup o’ joe. More often than not you will be served a weak stew of burnt beans with way too much milk. And it’s fucking expensive in Starbucks. Regret is certain. You heard it here first.

Do…take advantage of Buenos Aires’ unique and long-standing cafe culture.

Ok, so the coffee might be terrible, but the atmosphere and ritual in certain city cafes is unrivaled. Buenos Aires has 73 Bares Notables (typical porteño cafes that are under a national protection order) and they have been the social haunts of famous Argentine writers like Jorge Luis Borges and Julio Cortazar. Go for merienda (high tea) at about 4pm.

4. Don’t…go clothes shopping.

Ugh. Clothes shopping in Buenos Aires. Don’t even try it. There are too many shops filled with terrible quality clothes at ridiculous prices. Also, Argentine sizes only really cater for Argentines, so if you don’t have a body like Adonis, save the retail therapy for the US. Or Uruguay. Or anywhere that isn’t Argentina. No size 6 woman should ever have to endure being handed an XXL size by the shopkeeper.

Do…buy leather goods.

Leather, on the other hand, is a gift sent from the fashion gods. Cheap, great quality and with loads of options for bespoke tailors, leather in Argentina is proof that cows are not just for meat. Villa Crespo is leather heaven and you can find everything from leather mate gourds to leather trench coats favored by flashers. The San Telmo fair on Sundays is also great for jackets and bags.

5. Don’t…go to any old parilla.

You may think that going to any parilla or grill means that you are guaranteed great meat. Wrong. While the quality of meat in Buenos Aires is still awesome on average, you are doing yourself a severe disservice by just choosing any old neighborhood dive. Parillas, like bars serving Guinness in Ireland, are known for the quality of their product, and to the untrained palate, a huge hunk of meat may just be a huge hunk of meat. Quality over quantity, people, quality over quantity.

Do…use Buenos Aires’ best food blog to find the best spots to eat.

The online site Pick Up The Fork is considered the Buenos Aires food bible and the best way to evade a sucky parilla / empanada / pizza experience. It has all you need to know about everything ‘foody’ in Buenos Aires and is the go-to source for restaurant reviews, recommendations, and tons more for locals and foreigners alike. You’re welcome.

6. Don’t…be punctual.

Being on time is a rookie mistake. Everything in Buenos Aires starts…well, when it starts. Expect unexpected delays on transport, to be waiting at least 20 minutes to meet someone, and if it’s raining, forget about doing anything. Argentines are particularly flaky when it comes to rain and pretty much everything will get cancelled. Things will happen eventually, so just relax. Ahi va.

Do…prepare yourself to live on Argentine time.

This takes a bit of getting used to, especially if you are only in Buenos Aires for a few days. Everything starts late. No shops open until 10am, they often close from 2pm – 5pm (depending on the area), dinner is definitely not acceptable before 9.30pm, and the best time to arrive at a bar or club is after 1.30am. Also, prepare to stay out late. Like 7am late. The key to staying out this late and surviving? Not getting wasted. Argentines go out midweek until 4 or 5am, get a few hours of shuteye and start the next day early, minus a hangover. THIS is how to party like a porteño.

7. Don’t…be lazy.

Argentines are lovers of life. Everyone you meet will be juggling a million things — studying, working, and playing in a band / acting in a play / running a ceramics workshop, etc. Argentines invest in their hobbies and this means there is a plethora of things to do in the city. Be lazy and you’re going to miss out on a helluva lot of porteño culture. Planning on spending the afternoon sitting in your flat and playing the Xbox? Que verguenza.

Do…get active, get outside, and get out of the city.

People in Buenos Aires are really active and constantly out playing futbol, rollerblading, and jogging. Hit any park at any time during the day and you’ll see people taking full advantage of the sun and vast green spaces like the Bosques de Palermo.

And if the city doesn’t do it for you, head for the outskirts. In Tigre, 45 minutes north on the train, is an idyllic delta with a quaint town center and beautiful islands accessible by water taxi or kayak. San Antonio de Areco is famous for its gaucho festival held every November, and the riverside parks in Zona Norte are perfect for a mellow spring bike ride. Buenos Aires is much more than just the city, so get out and explore!

8 quintessential New Mexican foods

QUINTESSENTIAL NEW MEXICAN FOOD could succinctly be defined as anything made with New Mexico’s famous red or green chiles. And I’m not talking “a little bit” of chile — “a lot” of chile is what really sets each dish apart from the rest of Southwestern cuisine.

Below are eight New Mexican foods that for me, as a long-time resident, are the most addictive, and which I miss most whenever I travel outside of the state. Each could easily be made in any home kitchen and are definitely primed for a broader audience.

1. Red chile sauce

Photo: Bob Willis (via MJ’s Kitchen)

Red chile is a sauce made with dried red chile pods or red chile powder, a liquid (water/stock), onion, garlic, and a little seasoning. It’s used to smother burritos, tostadas, stuffed sopapillas, and eggs. It’s THE enchilada sauce for New Mexico red chile enchiladas, as well as a spicy condiment for a bowl of beans, soup, or stew. It’s a staple product in many New Mexico kitchens.

Get the recipe: New Mexico red chile sauce

2. Carne adovada

Photo: MJs Kitchen

New Mexico’s version of Mexican adobada is made for carnivores. Big chunks of pork are marinated overnight in red chile sauce and then slow-cooked for a few hours. The result is tender bites of spicy, meaty goodness. Carne adovada is usually served with beans and/or rice and a flour tortilla. It’s also used as the filling for enchiladas, stuffed into a sopapilla or burrito, or wrapped in a soft corn tortilla as a taco.

The recipe linked below is a quick and modern method for making carne adovada, but it you want to follow the traditional process, you can use any red chile sauce for the overnight marinade and then slow-cook, covered in a 325°F oven, for 2-3 hours.

Get the recipe: New Mexico carne adovada, via Santa Fe School of Cooking

3. Posole

Photo: MJs Kitchen

Posole is both an ingredient and a New Mexico stew. Posole the ingredient is corn boiled and soaked in slaked lime water (cal). This process, called nixtamalization, improves the nutritional value of the corn as well as its flavor and size. This version of posole is also known as hominy.

Posole stew is New Mexico comfort food and, along with green chile stew, a traditional holiday dish. It generally consists of posole, pork, and red or green chile. However, there are many other variations that have been created to fit personal tastes, preferences, and diets. Get creative!

Get the recipe: New Mexico posole

4. New Mexico green chile stew

Photo: MJ’s Kitchen

New Mexico green chile stew is the quintessential holiday dish. Everywhere you go in New Mexico during the holidays, someone is serving up green chile stew. But honestly, it’s too good to restrict to only one time of year — I start thinking about green chile stew the first time I smell chile roasting in the fall.

Traditionally, it’s a soup-like dish packed with roasted green chile, pork, and potatoes. However, just like posole, there are variations. I personally like mine with beef, but I’d never turn down one made with chicken or beans, because truthfully, it’s all about the chile. It’s an easy dish to make and probably the most addictive in all of New Mexican cuisine.

Get the recipe: New Mexico green chile stew

5. Stacked red or green chile enchiladas

Photo: MJs Kitchen

One of our favorite types of enchiladas is the stacked red chile enchilada: three corn tortillas dipped in red chile sauce and alternated with simple ingredients like onion, cheese, black olives, and more chile. The green version uses green chile sauce, cooked chicken, cheese, sour cream, and again, more chile.

You can make individual or restaurant-style servings, or a casserole for the family. While the casserole enchiladas are baked in the oven for about 30 minutes, the restaurant-style enchiladas are heated in the microwave or under the broiler for only a couple of minutes. For the final touch, top each serving with a fried egg. It’s hard to find better enchiladas anywhere.

Get the recipe: Stacked red chile enchiladas

Get the recipe: Green chile chicken sour cream enchiladas, via Viva New Mexico

6. Calabacitas

Photo: MJ’s Kitchen

Calabacitas (Spanish for squash) is a traditional late summer / early fall New Mexican dish. It’s mostly seasonal because it’s best when made with fresh ingredients: roasted green chile, summer squash, and corn. It’s one of those quick sautéed vegetable dishes that goes with just about anything and that really celebrates the flavors of its ingredients. New Mexico calabacitas should be in every cook’s recipe box.

Get the recipe: New Mexico calabacitas

7. Stuffed sopapilla

Photo: MJs Kitchen

Sopapillas are cut squares or triangles of dough, deep-fried until they puff up into hollow little pillows. In New Mexico, they’re stuffed with just about anything you want to stuff them with — beans, beans and rice, beans and beef, just beef, chicken, carne adovada, or calabacitas. Once stuffed, the sopapilla is smothered in cheese and your choice of red or green chile, or “Christmas” (a little bit of both red and green).

A recipe for sopapillas follows.

8. Sopapilla with honey

Photo: MJs Kitchen

In many New Mexican restaurants, dessert is complimentary. With each order you get one to two sopapillas. On the table is also a pitcher of honey. When you finish your meal, tear the corner off a hot sopapilla, wipe up that last bit of chile on your plate, and eat it. Drizzle some honey into the center of the sopapilla, ceremoniously roll the honey around to coat the inside, then take a bite of steamy, sweet goodness.

Get the recipe: New Mexico sopapillas with honey

This post is proudly produced in partnership with the New Mexico Tourism Department. Learn more about New Mexico’s True Cuisine and how to taste it all on your visit.

15 South African slang phrases

Photo: warrenski

1. Shame!

This is an endearing term that is used by South Africans in just about every social situation. Seriously, when in doubt, just say “Ag shame” and your sentiment will be greatly appreciated.

Example:

A: “I just got a new puppy.”

B: “Shame.”

A: “Her sister is seriously ill and was admitted to hospital.”

B: “Shame.”

A: “My brother won a million bucks yesterday.”

B: “Shame!”
2. Ag | Oh man

Ag — pronounced “Ach” — is a filler word. We South Africans love our filler words. If you ever feel like you have said shame too often — very unlikely — just throw in a filler to change it up a bit.

Example:

“Ag, I had a great time last night.”
3. Izit? or Sho? | Is that so?

Best used when you have absolutely no clue what somebody is talking about but don’t want to sound like a dofkop (stupid head).

Example:

A: “I’m currently analysing the two different types of software, SAP and ORACLE.”

B: “Izit?”
4. Ja, Nee | Yes, no

These two words are often used in succession to express agreement or confirmation.

Example:

“Ja, nee I’m fine thanks.”
5. Jawelnofine | Yes-well-no-fine

This is an expression of resignation.

Example:

A: “The school fees have increased by over 20% this year?”

B: “Jawelnofine.”
6. Just now | An unknown amount of time

You may be thinking that you know exactly what this means. But, no, even South Africans don’t always know if just now refers to a few minutes, tomorrow, or never.

So, if a South African ever says to you “I’ll do it just now” or “I’ll be there just now,” don’t expect it to happen anytime soon.

7. Just sommer | Just because

Have you ever done anything just because? We do it so much we have a special word for it.

Example:

A: “Why are you laughing?”

B: “Just sommer.”
8. Loskop | Loose head

This is just a humorous excuse, used to explain away forgetful or odd behaviour.

Example:

“I am such a loskop today. I forgot your jacket at home.”
9. Lekker | Good

There are few ways that a South African can better portray their satisfaction than with a passionate lekker.

Example:

“That was a lekker braai bru!”
10. Babelaas | hangover
11. Jol | A party

Any party, get-together or fun activity is a jol.

Example:

“Sounds like they are having a real jol next door.”
12. Jislaaik, Jussie, Jo, Haibo, and Haw | Used to express surprise or confusion

Example:

“Jislaaik bru, that was a big wave!” or “Haibo, you’re not 21.”
13. Klap | To give someone a smack

This is an Afrikaan term. It can also get more serious. A snotklap is a snot smack, taken from the mental image of smacking somebody so hard that mucus starts to spray from their nose.

Then there is also geklap, which basically means getting so drunk that somebody may as well have smacked you in the face.

14. Muti | medication
15. Robot | Traffic light

Did you think there are actual robots controlling the flow of traffic on South African roads? That’s ridiculous.

Let’s see what you’ve learned. Translate the following:

Juslaaik bru, you don’t look too lekker?

Ag ja I got a bit geklap at last night’s jol.

Shame man, don’t you want to take some muti for that babelaas?

Haiti's emergency helicopter service

Photos: author

“We’re clear on the left.”

“Clear on the right,” I added, attempting to mimic the clipped professional tone all pilots seem to have. With that, the helicopter gently lifted off the ground, one corner at a time. With the last skid freed from the ground, the helicopter was suspended in a brief moment of weightlessness before accelerating upwards into the sky. At that moment, Haiti’s first emergency medical system helicopter, a project we’d been working on for over 12 months, roared to life.

Airplanes approach Port-au-Prince airport from over the ocean in the west, rapidly dropping down from 10,000ft. The shantytown of Cite Soleil is visible for a brief moment before the runway comes into view. In the helicopter, hovering only 500ft above the tin-roofed hovels, the density of poverty is on display. Helicopters fly at the lowest possible altitude, regularly traveling at heights shorter than a skyscraper.

Enclosed by mountains to the north and south, the valley of Port-au-Prince is smothered in smog. Convective currents swirl over the mountains and suck air off the ocean, creating turbulence for any aircraft above the city. As the helicopter rises up, the currents ripple through the thin metal walls, the light craft moving as if weightless, a Fiat 500 with a propeller. As we climb higher above the city, the teeming chaos of Port-au-Prince appears serene, in slow motion. The cars chug around traffic circles in a ballet of coordination that belies the street-level disorder.

On my first training flight, we arrived safely in Aquin, a town on the southern coast of Haiti with promise to be a potential hotbed of tourism. With the support of a group of Haitian-diaspora doctors, the hospital has developed one of Haiti’s few intensive care units. After a day spent meeting the staff and visiting the facility, we enrolled our first partner hospital, a place to transfer patients to or from.

American cities typically have several helicopter emergency medical service programs. Haiti, a country of more than 10 million people, now has one base sporting two helicopters. Haiti Air Ambulance offers patients, regardless of their ability to pay, the opportunity for transfer from any hospital to another that provides higher-order medical services, typically in the larger cities. A farmer from the most remote region of Haiti can now be transported to top orthopedic surgeons if an accident occurs at work. A child with severe asthma no longer has to die in a remote hospital but can be placed on a breathing machine and flown to one of the hospitals with an intensive care unit. For the moment, the helicopter can only be used to transport patients already at a hospital. However, we hope that in the near future mass-casualty events such as bus accidents on the highways of Haiti will be serviced by the helicopter.

The small helicopters fit a maximum of six people, depending on passenger weight. Our flight team typically consists of a flight medic, an ICU-trained nurse, a Haitian EMT, and the pilot. The patient lies on a stretcher with their feet stretching into the cockpit. The patient’s head is situated in front of the paramedic so medical procedures can be more easily administered in-flight. The EMTs were trained by Project Medishare to perform first aid and CPR and to suture wounds. While most paramedics learn first while working on a ground ambulance, the EMTs here are making the jump to flight paramedics. They’re learning how to place breathing tubes in patients’ throats, use general anesthesia, place tubes in the chest to drain blood, and care for the critically ill. As the Haitian face of the organization, when each flight lands at the transfer site, they’re responsible for communicating with the patients and their families.

Haiti Air Ambulance is expanding to include more partner hospitals every week, each agreeing to accept patients and to transfer them out. Through a national network of hospitals, the helicopter will help to balance capacity nationwide, transferring patients to hospitals that have specialists for those in need, and freeing up beds at specialty hospitals by transferring patients back to their provincial hospital when the acute issues are resolved.

Dissenters may argue a helicopter is an excessive cost. But in a country where trauma is the leading cause of morbidity and mortality in the population ages 15 to 44, and heart disease and strokes kill larger numbers of older Haitians than any other illness, the basic principles of public health dictate that resources should be allocated to the problems that affect the largest number of people. The bonuses are twofold — saving the lives of the economically most productive portion of the population, and also investing in medical infrastructure to encourage tourism and spur investment in businesses in Haiti.

The question is not, “Should Haiti have an emergency medical helicopter?” but, “Why doesn’t Haiti, and every country for that matter, deserve the same standard of care as wealthier countries?”

When the project is successful in Haiti, proving the model is financially sustainable through a mix of paying and non-paying patients, the idea can take flight in other resource-poor settings. Imagine the utility of a medical helicopter in a country the size of Sudan or Ethiopia, where poorly established roads that span long distances can be washed away in a rainstorm, leaving countless sick and injured trapped.

The helicopter is only a small piece in a coordinated effort to establish pre-hospital care in Haiti. Working with the Haitian Ministry of Health and other nonprofit partners, the consortium is training doctors and nurses in acute care, building up an army of EMTs and challenging everyone to outfit the partner hospitals with basic supplies such as oxygen tanks and ambulances.

We’ve officially launched and started transferring patients. As we fly more missions, the periods of silence will decrease and the whir of the blades firing up for a flight will drown out the sounds of the city.

9 Montana backpacking trips

Photo by Thor Mark

THERE’S SOMETHING about waking up deep in the backcountry, having carried all of your gear in to camp near a quiet lake or alpine cirque with panoramic views of the surrounding peaks.

You can find dozens of places like this in the Big Sky State. These are nine of my favorites, the ones I consider the “ultra-classic” Montana experiences.

Montana has incredibly varied terrain, so I’ve included different regions as well as different levels of difficulty and distance.

East Rosebud Trail (aka The Beaten Path)

Location: Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness

Arguably one of the best hiking experiences the Rocky Mountains has to offer in any state, the East Rosebud trail between Red Lodge and Cooke City has something for everyone, from wildlife that walks right up to you, to incredible fishing in lakes surrounded by craggy peaks, to trailside berries to munch on.

A strong hiker could make this 26 mile hike in one day, but if you want to get the most out of the trip, expect to spend three or more days out there. Though the trail gets its nickname from the mid-summer throngs of people, it’s far from crowded. Take any of dozens of side trails and you’ll find yourself in complete solitude.

Cottonwood Creek, Crazy Mountains

Location: Gallatin National Forest

Unlike many backpacking routes, this hike offers great mountain views right from the start. The trail follows Cottonwood Creek through prime moose habitat before climbing to excellent camping in the beautiful glacial tarn that embraces Cottonwood Lake.

Fishing is good at Cottonwood Lake, but another unnamed pond just below Cottonwood has water so clear you can watch the foot-long trout strike your line. Make sure you bring a stove to cook your catch as firewood is scarce.

Boulder Pass

Location: Glacier National Park

If you’re looking for a variety of interesting geological features Boulder Pass won’t disappoint. The beginning of the hike is marked by ample huckleberries along alpine lakes, lovely expanses of prairie and spectacular views of Harris Glacier. Waterfalls line the mountainsides as you make your way up to Boulder Pass.

Here, the geology gets more interesting. The terrain resembles a moonscape with lava pools and other reminders of the area’s volcanic past. The trail goes through Hole-in-the-Wall campground, said to be the most remote campsite in Glacier Park, and along narrow cliff-side trails Glacier is famous for.

Bechler River Trail

Location: Yellowstone National Park

Bechler River Trail has everything people come to Yellowstone Park for: wildlife, waterfalls, hot springs, picturesque river canyons, and great fishing. It is also one of the least visited areas of the park. That said, don’t leave getting your backcountry permits until the last second.

Camping is limited to established campsites and there aren’t many. It is also one of the least strenuous trails in the Rockies, being flat or a slight decline for most of its substantial length. Its flat grade turns boggy in some areas, making it almost impassable until early August.

Big Creek to Bear Creek Traverse

Location: Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness

The first several miles of the Big Creek Trail wander along the bottom of a forested canyon and belie the rugged nature of the Bitterroot range. Stepping out of the trees near Big Lake, however, will introduce you to the jagged peaks that characterize most of the hike, twice crossing the spine of the Bitterroot divide between Montana and Idaho.

The stunning views and complete solitude make the considerable trek in well worth it.

Moose Lake Trail

Location: Bob Marshall-Great Bear Wilderness

This trail, located just south of Glacier Park’s southern boundary, offers what’s best about the Bob Marshall Wilderness: options. Studying the map for a few minutes will reveal almost infinite possibilities from lake-to-lake angling excursions to alpine summit expeditions.

The trail to Moose Lake begins in dense woods but soon opens up into spectacular views north into Glacier and south/east into the Great Bear Wilderness. Next, drop into Moose Lake, or change your mind and climb to Tranquil Basin, descend into Elk Lake or hook up with the Twenty-five Mile Creek Trail.

From there, choose between heading for the Middle Fork of the Flathead River or climbing Vinegar Mountain. You get the idea.

Hyalite Creek to Hyalite Peak

Location: Gallatin National Forest

This trail is short but sweet, and considered by many to be the premier hike of the Bozeman area. In the first five miles to Hyalite Lake, the trail passes eleven seperate waterfalls cascading from Hyalite Basin’s red rock bowl. At Apex Falls, just below Hyalite Lake, the trail branches toward Apex Crest and Hyalite Peak.

Hyalite Peak may not be the highest peak in the Gallatins, but it may be the most beautiful, looking down on one of the most unique drainages in Montana.

Crystal Lake-West Peak

Location: Lewis and Clark National Forest

Starting at Crystal Lake, the trail leads in a long loop to the top of the Snowy Mountains, connecting with several side trails that lead to peak-bagging opportunities—notably Promontory and Grandview Peaks. At least two cave entrances along the trail will entice spelunkers to light up and explore.

Upper Potosi Hot Springs

Location: Tobacco Root Mountains

The Tobacco Root Mountains are often overlooked when it comes to backcountry adventures. Big mistake. The landscape is more arid than most in Montana, which makes for open, panoramic views. Hot springs on the trail bubble into primitive backcountry soaking pools. A just reward for the hike in. 

This article is sponsored by our friends at the State of Montana. It was originally published on March 30, 2009.

10 Québecois idioms French don't get

Photo: Corie Bidgood

1. Ça a pas d’allure! | It makes no sense whatsoever!

While a French person might think that this idiom has something to do with style or elegance (allure), the French Canadians are only trying to explain that whatever is happening is ridiculously crazy.

Example:

A: Martine decided that she would bike to work through ten feet of snow this morning.

B: Ben là, ça a pas d’allure son affaire!
2. Avoir des bibittes | To have personal troubles

There’s a simple explanation for this idiom not to be understood or used by the French: “bite,” a slang word for male genitalia, is hardly appropriate in a polite conversation.

I remember the day I heard my French Canadian colleague use this term for the very first time, I almost fell off my chair. Even though we were friends, she was my mother’s age and we had never discussed anybody’s intimate parts, so why on Earth did she decide to start, using that word? It took me a while to get it, but the relief (and the silent laughs) that ensued was priceless.

Example:

A. Morgane, est-ce que t’as des bibittes?

B. No, I’m good. No “bibittes” on my end. Thanks for asking.
3. C’est tiguidou! | That’s all good!

“Tiguidou” is simple, funny, and if you hang out with French Canadians long enough, you’ll hear it all the time. No need for a dictionary to decipher the adorable “tiguidou.”

However, if you think that “tiguidou” is proof enough you are bilingual in French Canadian, read the following and think again: “Tiguidou, l’affaire est ketchup.” The use of condiments has a lot of French slightly confused.

Example:

A: I’ll be there tomorrow, at 09:00pm to pick you up.

B: Tiguidou.

A: I’ve booked a table, so don’t be late

B: L’affaire est ketchup!


More like this 10 idioms only the French understand


4. Être en mosus | To be furious

French Canadians used to be a fiercely Catholic bunch. Things have changed, but the swear words they use are just riddled with deformed Church lingo. “Mosus” (or “mausus”) is a variation (pretty far-fetched) of “maudit,” meaning cursed, and it’s not that obvious to anyone, even the French, that it implies somebody’s in a bad mood.

Example:

A: Have you talked to Simon lately? I have not heard from him in a while.

B: No, Y’est en mosus, he does not want to talk to me.
5. Attache ta tuque! | Get ready!

Nothing gets more French Canadian than saying “put on your toque” to express anticipation. “Tuque” is a word unknown to the French (the joy of temperate weather), but it’s an indispensable accessory for the frozen Quebecois.

Example:

I’m going to push that sled down the hill, attache ta tuque!

6. Avoir de l’eau dans la cave | Your pants are too short.

In French Canada, if you “have water in the cellar,” you’re not trying to alarm anyone about a possible flooding problem, but you probably grew a few inches, or hemmed your pants while drunk. In France, we say that we’re “going to harvest some mussels” (how charming!). Wherever you live, get yourself a new pair of jeans and fire the seamstress.

Example:

I should wear my black pants for my interview tomorrow. They’re classy.

Classy like you have some eau dans la cave.
7. Pantoute | Not at all

When the French say “pas du tout,” French Canadians go “pantoute.” It’s shorter; it’s widely used, but, to me, it still sounds like we’re talking about slippers (“pantoufle”).

Example:

A: Are you en mosus?

B: Pantoute! Everything’s fine!


More like this 8 French idioms every traveler should know


8. Malcommode | To be rude

If someone’s proving to be unpleasant, they are “malcommode.” Now, let’s just be happy that they are not “un esti d’cave” (a major asshole).

Example:

A: Hello!

B: (no answer)

A: She is ben malcommode!
9. J’suis tanné | I’m fed up

In France, “tanner” has one, and only one, meaning: to turn a hide into leather. In French Canada, however, “tanner” someone or to be “tanné” means you’ve had enough.

Example:

A: I feel like I’ll never be able to make myself clear in Quebec.

B: T’es tanné, hein? No worries, with a bit of practice, “l’affaire est ketchup.”

A: Oh Lord…
10. J’aime frencher mon chum! | I like kissing my boyfriend!

French Canadians are brave people. They are surrounded by English speakers, and yet they manage to keep their language and their traditions alive. Nonetheless, despite all their efforts, sometimes, English leaks in, and it’s pretty funny to witness.

“Frencher” is a half-French, half-English word that’s meaning is rather obvious for those who speak English. The French should know all about it (they invented the stuff after all), but we just don’t use this funny hybrid of a verb. “Chum” or “blonde” are very common ways to talk about your better half. Even if your girlfriend is a red head, just go call her “blonde” and try to blend in.

Example:

A: Where is your son?

B: He frenche sa blonde behind the house. He thinks I can’t see them.

A: Y’est niaiseux! (silly boy!)

13 memories: growing up in Michigan

Photo: lindsay decker

1. Canada meant alcohol

Whether you crossed from Detroit to Windsor or through Sault St. Marie up north, your 19-year-old self couldn’t believe how easy it could be to just walk into a party store and come out with beer.

2. Bringing up the idea of buying a Volvo or a Mazda once

Then you learned. Oh, the frustration when you tried to explain to your Detroit born-and-raised dad how most of the parts in his Ford were actually made overseas and he just wouldn’t listen to logic. You had to hear about ‘Built Ford Tough’ and all that jazz until he was practically blue in the face. You still to this day feel slightly guilty every time you eye a Volkswagon.

3. The indisputable awesomeness of moon boots

And, let’s not forget, your Yooper mom probably made you stick your feet into bread bags first before you could slip into those little gems when she sent you out to shovel the ten feet of overnight snow. Am I right?

More like this 17 reasons no one is as hardcore as us Michiganders when it comes to winter


4. Snow day superstition rituals

You had your very own snow-day superstitions and you weren’t afraid to use them! You might have thrown ice cubes out the window before bed. Wore a colored sock on your left foot but not your right. Did your special snow dance. Put a spoon under your pillow.

Ahhh, the waiting of ten grueling minutes while the WZZM 13 announcer listed off, in alphabetical order, the 300 schools in the region closed that day (bastards on the lakeshore in Holland always seemed to get out of school, stupid lake effect!) — and the relief when your school was finally called. Back to bed, feeling super empowered that your night-before tricks worked their magic, then up again at noon to go build tunneled snow forts or make grandiose plans to sled off the roof.

On your unlucky days you somehow got stuck shoveling the driveway. All. Day. Long.

5. Ah, so many Michigan sports moments…

Whether you remember the Piston’s Vinnie Johnson sinking that 18-foot jumper with 0.7 seconds left in the 1990 NBA Championship Final, or you recall Barry Sanders inspiring actual hope in you for the Lions (it was finally going to be their year, you just KNEW it!), or when your heart broke at the news of Vladimir Konstantinov’s 1997 accident that left him paralyzed just six days after he helped the Red Wings take the Stanley Cup, it’s guaranteed that every Michigander has some sports memory that they carry with them.

6. Fitting a Halloween costume over a snowmobile suit

Unless you wanted to hit up the lame indoor trick-or-treating at the local Grace Bible Church, you had to somehow coordinate gloves, a winter hat, a scarf, and snow boots into the creative vision, whether you were a princess or a pirate. Because no matter how beautiful the autumn had been, come Halloween night, freezing rain or snow always seemed to fall like clockwork.

7. Taking back pop cans for money

Notice they certainly weren’t called ‘soda’ cans — this is Michigan we are talking about. Whether you needed money to put a few bucks of gas in your car or wanted to hit Boyne or Crystal on Saturday, all you had to do was go around and collect all the cans lying around in the house/garage/car and turn them in for their 10-cent deposit. How simple money-making was for you back then! And remember how out-of-this-world modern it seemed when Meijer and Kroger’s first got the automated machines to stick your pop cans into?

8. Vacations to Cedar Point or Mackinaw Island

Your family or a friend’s family, who you tagged along with, went to one of those two places practically every single summer. Who needed exotic, expensive vacations when there was endless Rocky Road fudge and acres of rollercoasters within such close reach?

9. Raking a gigantic pile of crunchy, rainbow-colored leaves and jumping into them

Your parents pulled this one off well. They took you to Quality Farm and Fleet and let you pick out the adorable kid-sized rake that looked like it was made for you. They did not tell you that you would voluntarily be putting in hours of child-labor yard work; they told you it would be fun. And it was. That shit never got old. And when you finally went inside, there was nothing better than Robinette’s sugar-coated cider donuts washed down with apple cider.

More like this 10 signs you were born and raised in Michigan


10. Eating icicles

Whether you lived in Heritage Hill in G.R. or an old farmhouse in Kalkaska, all you had to do was open the window, crack one off the old overhang, and you basically had a free popsicle any time you wanted. Kid heaven.

11. Going ‘Up North’ to the cottage

Whether the cottage was a crumbling shit shack in Marquette or a 12-bedroom mansion in T.C., whether it was yours, your cousin’s, or your friend’s cousin’s, there was always a place “Up North” to head to for tubing, euchre playing, shooting potato guns, and eating way too many s’mores by the campfire at night. Tradition dictated that there should be a stop somewhere on the road trip up there for a Blue Moon or Superman ice cream cone.

12. Opening day of deer season

Kinda hoping dad would come home with a 12 point from Alpena so he wouldn’t be bitching and sulking until next year’s season, but kinda hoping he wouldn’t. The deer parts in the freezer were slightly fascinating but mostly creepy, and no matter what they said, venison did not taste the same as hamburger.

13. Racing down sand dunes

No matter that you inevitably fell and somersaulted out of control most of the way down, filling your every orifice with sand and not being able to get it all out for days, running down the gorgeous Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes with Lake Michigan stretching for miles ahead of you was like a childhood rite of passage.

What not to do in Chile

Photo: Vlebanov

1. Don’t… visit Torres del Paine during high season.

December to March in this vast national park in southern Chile is not the time to find quiet solitude — especially on the trekker-happy “W” circuit.

The park fills up with people, the concessioned campsites turn into cities, and the “rustic” ones turn into villages.

Do… go during shoulder season.

Or better yet, visit another Patagonia park, such as Queulat, home to bursting fuchsia plants, the elusive huemúl (a stocky, endangered deer that appears on Chile’s coat of arms), and a glacier-spawned waterfall.

Slightly farther north is the practically unvisited Tolhuaca National Park, full of monkey-puzzle trees and red-crested woodpeckers the length of your forearm.

2. Don’t… take the Navimag to the Laguna San Rafael glacier.

This boat ride is pricey, uncomfortable, and makes you feel like you’re on a floating class trip, complete with skits and cafeteria-style eating.

You’ll spend way too much money to sleep in a room with 15 other travelers, beside a ferry engine vibrating at the exact frequency that precipitates insanity, all to spend an hour hundreds of yards away from the glacier in a cramped Zodiac with a bunch of whiskey-glomming Chileans.

Do… hike to the El Morado Glacier.

This one is much more accessible, your starting point being Cajón de Maipo (near Santiago).

Another option is a day trip from Puerto Natales to the Serrano and Balmaceda Glaciers via a four-hour boat trip past sea lions and cormorant colonies. Yes, you’ll get to see both ice blocks, plus take a short forest hike.

Alternatively (and don’t tell any Chileans I said this), go to Argentina for the Perito Moreno Glacier, one of the world’s only advancing glaciers.

3. Don’t… go to Concha y Toro winery or take the Tren del Vino (Wine Train).

There’s great wine and great wine tourism in Chile, but CyT is considered a “wine for dummies” pick, and the train could be fairly described as the “wine for those very eager to part with large sums of money” option.

Do… your own wine tour solo in the Casablanca, Colchagua, or nearby valleys.

This is doable with a little research. Pick up Margaret Snook’s book Vinos para Todos, whip out your Spanish-English dictionary, and run your own tasting based on these and regular-folk recommendations for top Chilean wines — which, incidentally, should only run between $2 and $10.

You could also take a tour with a local independent wine expert like Karen Gilchrist from winetravelchile.com. For the luxury wine-tourist set, Liz Caskey is recommended.

4. Don’t… take the Cerro San Cristobal funicular.

The top of Santiago’s second-tallest hill is a popular photo spot.

But take the funicular and you’ll be missing one of the best parts: fabulous views of the mountains on the way up and down.

Do… hike up on the Zorro Vidal path.

This trail takes about 40 minutes at a reasonable pace and is accessible from the Bellavista (Pio Nono) entrance. Or rent a bike on the Pedro de Valdivia side and pedal up (30-40 minutes).

This way, you earn your syrupy, rich mote con huesillo (a drink made with hyper-sweetened peach punch, reconstituted dehydrated peaches, and wheat kernels) from the vendors at the top.

Cerro San Cristobal mini-do: the Japanese Garden

Cerro San Cristobal mini-don’t: the zoo. Animal lovers will cringe.

5. Don’t… assume LAN Chile is your only option.

The country’s national air carrier is NOT the last word when it comes to domestic travel.

Do… take the bus.

Overnight buses can be downright luxurious.

Otherwise, the train is a slow but scenic option as far south as Temuco, and Sky Airlines can often beat all of the aforementioned’s prices.

The usual warning to buy in advance applies, including on buses during the summer, high season, and long weekends.

6. Don’t… loiter downtown or near Plaza Italia after an important soccer match.

Especially if Universidad de Chile (La U) or Colo Colo are playing.

Chilean post-game hooliganism has taken hold, and a bus or metro trip with these screaming, chanting fans is not where you want to be.

Do… watch a game at an out-of-the-way bar or restaurant.

Or simply take the 91 minutes when the game is on as an excuse to enjoy the streets nearly completely solo, and then get back inside before the melee starts.

Word to the wise…those police water cannons? They can (and do) also spew tear gas into rowdy crowds.

7. Don’t… look for Chilean fashion in the fancy malls.

That would be Alto Las Condes or Parque Arauco. Chilean-made department store items are even pricier than what you’d buy at home.

Do… hit up Calle Bandera to buy used clothing.

Or, better yet, head for nearby Patronato, a zany warren of blasting music and inexpensive clothes, manufactured in Chile (or China) for a fraction of the price (and some say quality) of what you’ll find in big-name stores like Falabella or Paris.

Keep your wallet close, and stop for a falafel or some Korean food while you’re there.

8. Don’t… eat salmon at the Mercado Central.

Actually, don’t eat it anywhere in the country.

Nearly all salmon in Chile is farmed, contains antibiotics and dyes banned in many countries, and — if you know your salmon — is nearly flavorless.

Do… order anything else at the central market

Head into the chaos, choose your spot, and try one of the other grilled fish dishes, or opt for paila marina, a brothy soup of random sea creatures including several kinds of bivalves, the red sea-squirt, and — if you’re lucky — a giant barnacle.

Less adventurous stomachs might prefer pastel de jaiba, an impossibly thick cheesy crab bisque.

9. Don’t… expect to understand a word anyone says.

Even if you studied Spanish in high school, or college, or high school and college plus a stint traveling around Central America ten years ago, you simply will NOT understand what the average Chilean is saying.

They talk fast, swallow their s’s and wash them down with about half their d’s, and use an impenetrable slang and a special conjugation form that only exists in this sliver of South America.

Do… try anyway.

A lot of visitors to Chile don’t speak any Spanish at all, so if you make an effort, people will appreciate it.

If you throw in a “¿cachai?” (“get it?” in local slang) or two, people will grin and nod and applaud your Castellano, as locals call the language.

10. Don’t… expect Santiago to be Buenos Aires.

The two capital cities are just a couple mountain ranges apart, but Buenos Aires is South America’s NYC, something Santiago could never approximate — despite the fact that it calls one of its upscale neighborhoods “Sanhattan.”

Do… see Santiago for what it is, past and present.

Years of history, miles and mountains of separation, and waves of different settlers have contributed to making Santiago the way it is.

The city tends to be under-appreciated, under-touristed, and generally underrated. Get to know Santiago on her own terms and learn something the travel industrial complex can’t (or won’t) tell.

This article was originally published on November 16th, 2009