Travels in the Riel World

Krakow, Poland

Cobblestoned lane and outdoor cafe just off Market Square in the center of Krakow’s Old Town.

Are you a fan of the American travel writer Paul Theroux? Do you like road trips? Then you may appreciate this article from Smithsonian Magazine, written by Theroux and titled “Taking the Great American Road Trip.” Theroux writes about taking a cross-country road trip recently for the first time in his life, which is somewhat surprising for a person who has journeyed across Africa and taken long train journeys through Asia and the Americas. But perhaps because of this travel background, Theroux brings an unusual perspective to his newest trip, that of an individual who has seen the world and is now discovering more of his home country.

Here, he introduces his journey:

The mixed blessing of America is that anyone with a car can go anywhere. The visible expression of our freedom is that we are a country without roadblocks. And a driver’s license is our identity. My dream, from way back—from high school, when I first heard the name Kerouac—was of driving across the United States. The cross-country trip is the supreme example of the journey as the destination.

Travel is mostly about dreams—dreaming of landscapes or cities, imagining yourself in them, murmuring the bewitching place names, and then finding a way to make the dream come true. The dream can also be one that involves hardship, slogging through a forest, paddling down a river, confronting suspicious people, living in a hostile place, testing your adaptability, hoping for some sort of revelation. All my traveling life, 40 years of peregrinating Africa, Asia, South America and Oceania, I have thought constantly of home—and especially of the America I had never seen. “I discovered I did not know my own country,” Steinbeck wrote in Travels with Charley, explaining why he hit the road at age 58.

And, later on, contemplates some of the similarities between the U.S. and some other parts of the world that he has visited:

In my life, I had sought out other parts of the world—Patagonia, Assam, the Yangtze; I had not realized that the dramatic desert I had imagined Patagonia to be was visible on my way from Sedona to Santa Fe, that the rolling hills of West Virginia were reminiscent of Assam and that my sight of the Mississippi recalled other great rivers. I’m glad I saw the rest of the world before I drove across America. I have traveled so often in other countries and am so accustomed to other landscapes, I sometimes felt on my trip that I was seeing America, coast to coast, with the eyes of a foreigner, feeling overwhelmed, humbled and grateful.

The whole article may be long for the web, but it’s a good magazine piece and an interesting look at America from a celebrated travel writer.

Audrey Scott and Daniel Noll have been on the road for quite a while now. It’s been well over two years since they left their jobs to travel the world, take photographs and write about their experiences, which they do very well on their blog Uncornered Market. It stands to reason that they would have learned a thing or two during these many months on the road and, in fact, they just published an interesting post that shares some of the lessons they’ve gained along the way. It’s called The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Travelers. Here is a brief excerpt:

Seek First to Adapt, Then to Complain (a.k.a., Adaptability) – Living outside your comfort zone becomes the norm on the road. New environments provide different challenges; what worked in the last country may not work in the next. All that stuff you became accustomed to just last week? Forget about it. Independent travel forces you to continually size up each situation and adapt accordingly. Your resulting experience depends on it. Sometimes your life may, too.

We’re reminded of: When we (two American non-Muslims) were presented with a steaming bowl of goat bits at a feast to break the Ramadan fast in Kyrgyzstan, we joined in by reluctantly chewing on a jaw bone.

Plan With Multiple Outcomes in Mind (a.k.a, Planning) – Determine which variables are most important to you (e.g., comfort, cost, risk, time), do your planning, and optimize accordingly. In doing so, you create not only Plans A and B, but also Plans C and D, too. In the end, circumstances force you to a hastily crafted Plan E, which you later realize may have been the best plan all along.

We’re reminded of: When a Chinese train station attendant informs us that the train no longer runs to our next destination, we don’t force it. We find another one…and stumble upon a Tibetan opera festival.

You should check out the entire post for all of their lessons, and then I’d recommend wandering around the website to read about their adventures and see some of the many wonderful photographs they’ve taken.

You’ve likely heard of the book “The Geography of Bliss: One Grump’s Search for the Happiest Places in the World,” by Eric Weiner. And you may have heard about the Himalayan country of Bhutan and its goal of measuring and improving something called Gross National Happiness. What do these things have in common? Well, apart from the fact that Weiner visited and wrote about Bhutan in his book (which is a fun read, by the way), the author just penned an article for World Hum discussing the spread of the Gross National Happiness concept to larger and more developed countries.

People travel. We know that. Stuff travels, too, of course. So do germs. Less obvious is the fact that ideas also travel. They don’t always travel well, and their on-time performance is no better than your average U.S. airline. But, still, travel they do—and often in expected ways.

Take French President Nicolas Sarkozy’s recently proposed “happiness index.” The traditional measure of a nation’s wealth, Gross Domestic Product, is woefully inadequate, Sarkozy declared, and promptly ordered French bureaucrats to take into account factors such as quality of life, the environment and (gasp!) vacation time. What the world needs, Sarkozy said in so many words, is not Gross National Product but Gross National Happiness.

Hmmm, this sounds familiar. As you may know, Bhutan, a geopolitical speck tucked away in the Himalayas, adopted exactly that policy—Gross National Happiness—back in the 1970s…

Call it the trickle-up theory of ideas. Big ideas often start in small nations. For instance,  the wildly successful practice of micro-lending was born not in London or Tokyo but rural Bangladesh. Why? Necessity, yes. But another reason, I think, is that small, off-the-map countries have less to lose. If Bhutan proposes something like Gross National Happiness people might snicker but they’re not likely to think of any less of Bhutan. Partly, this is because they had never thought of Bhutan at all. And partly it’s because we expect global outliers to come up with wacky ideas.

So I’m glad that Bhutanese happiness has traveled to France. Let’s hope the journey doesn’t end there.

In his article, Weiner makes a good case for the relevance of happiness as a measuring stick for policymakers, and he traces its spread from the Himalayas to the West. It may be quite a while before an idea like this catches on in the U.S., but it’s an intriguing concept and, in any case, Weiner is an engaging writer when discussing the world we live in.

We’re all familiar with the concept of UNESCO World Heritage Sites, which are natural and man-made destinations that represent the history and heritage of the world. Somewhat less familiar to most people are the newer UNESCO designations of Intangible Cultural Heritage, which honor such traditions as native music, dance, ritual or craftsmanship. This is meant to complement the list of physical sites, as UNESCO works to honor and protect the world’s cultural heritage. A number of traditions were recently added to the Intangible Cultural Heritage list, including the ever-popular tango dancing of Argentina and Uruguay.

The 24 members of UNESCO’s Intergovernmental Committee of Intangible Heritage granted the tango dance and its music protected cultural status at its meeting in Abu Dhabi.

The designation may make Argentina and Uruguay, which both claim to be tango’s birthplace, eligible to receive financial assistance from a specialized fund for safeguarding cultural traditions…

Argentina and Uruguay have long been embroiled in a clash over the birthplace of the great tango crooner Carlos Gardel. They kicked aside their differences last year in a joint effort to persuade UNESCO to list tango among UNESCO’s traditions worth safeguarding for humanity.

India’s Vedic chanting and Japan’s Kabuki theater are among the dozens of U.N. protected traditions.

You should check out this stunning collection of photographs of tango that was recently published on Boston.com. Or go here for a full list of the traditions that have been honored by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage. 

It’s prime season for leaf-peeping and, while there are wonderful foliage drives in nearly every region of North America, the destination that is almost always associated with the spectacle of autumn is New England. A fall foliage drive can mean a lot more than just beautiful fall views, however. If you plan it correctly, you can also explore some of New England’s loveliest towns and quintessential experiences. You might wander through quaint village greens, pick apples at rural orchards, sip warm cider at a roadside farm stand, or discover the charms of the region’s covered wooden bridges.

To get you started, I created a fall foliage road trip through quintessential New England. This journey is focused on Vermont, New Hampshire and Massachusetts (with apologies to Connecticut, Rhode Island and Maine, which have wonderful fall sites of their own). You can read the article I wrote about the excursion here, and use this Google map to follow along or to plot your own version of the trip.

View Fall foliage tour through quintessential New England in a larger map

Recently, I showed you a road trip that delved into the roots of American music, with destinations connected to the birth of jazz, blues, soul, bluegrass, country and rock ‘n roll. But what about contemporary music? What are the best cities in North America today for music lovers? The Society of American Travel Writers recently chimed with a top 10 list of “best music cities.” The selections run the gamut of tastes and experiences, from Chicago blues to Nashville country. Here are a few of their choices:

New Orleans, Louisiana- “You can’t go to New Orleans without the music swallowing you whole.” –Lisa A. Tomaszewski, travel editor, HMP Communications.

Austin, Texas- “Austin is home to the yearly South by Southwest Music Festival, where nearly the entire city becomes a music venue for a week. There are hundreds of live shows a day, making it just as fun for locals as for industry executives.” –Joshua Hinsdale, freelance travel writer.

Nashville, Tennessee - “Nashville isn’t just the ‘home’ of country music. It’s the heart and soul of country music.” –Steve Winston, freelance travel writer.

Chicago, Illinois- “Chicago’s reputation as home of the blues can’t be understated, with live shows available at clubs every night. The diverse neighborhoods and city-sponsored events also offer live music, from Old Town School of Folk Music to Lollapalooza in Grant Park and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. It’s all here, all the time.” –Laurie Borman, freelance travel writer.

Check out the full article for information on New York, Memphis and other cities.

Perhaps it’s the interest sparked by the ongoing debate in Washington, but I’ve been stumbling across a number of health care-related articles these days and several of them delve into the intersection of policy and national culture. There was a recent story in the NY Times about T.R. Reid’s new book, The Healing of America, in which this foreign correspondent went to doctors in 10 countries with a chronic shoulder problem and then wrote about the results of these health care travels. His book reports both on the different treatment options offered to him and the different systems of health insurance that he encounters:

When Mr. Reid presents his shoulder to his own orthopedist in Colorado, the doctor is quick to recommend a shoulder replacement. It will cost his insurer tens of thousands of dollars (assuming it agrees to pay), with unknown co-payments for him. Risks include all those of major surgery; benefits include a restored golf swing.

The same shoulder gets substantially different reactions elsewhere in the world.

In France, a general practitioner sends him to an orthopedist (out-of-pocket consultation fee: $10) who recommends physical therapy, suggests an easily available second opinion if Mr. Reid really wants that surgery, and notes that the cost of the operation will be entirely covered by insurance (waiting time about a month).

In Germany, the operation is his for the asking the following week, for an out-of-pocket cost of about $30.

In London, a cheerful general practitioner tells Mr. Reid to learn to live with his shoulder. No joint replacement is done in Britain without disability far more serious than his to justify the expense and the risks, and if his golf game is that important, he can go private and foot the bill himself.

In Japan, the foremost orthopedist in the country (waiting time for an appointment, less than a day) offers a range of possible treatments, from steroid injections to surgery, all covered by insurance. (“Think about it, and call me.”)

In an Ayurvedic hospital in India, a regimen of meditation, rice, lentils and massage paid for entirely out of pocket, $42.85 per night, led to “obvious improvement in my frozen joint,” Mr. Reid writes, adding, “To this day, I don’t know why it happened.”

But the comparative merits of different orthopedic philosophies are secondary here: Mr. Reid’s attention is focused on a meticulous deconstruction of the history and philosophy of the policy decisions behind them.

From a shoulder replacement to toughing it out to meditation and massage. Different cultures, different treatments. What do you think, do these different health care philosophies have some connection with what you know about the different cultures that the author encounters?

Happy Columbus Day! That is, if you celebrate it. Columbus Day has been a federal holiday in the United States for several decades now, and the 1492 arrival of Christopher Columbus to the Americas is observed in various ways. New York City has a big parade and celebration of Italian-American heritage. Other cities, such as San Francisco and Chicago, do likewise. But some U.S. states don’t commemorate Columbus Day at all, instead honoring other indigenous peoples. And in much of Latin America the day is used to celebrate the encounter between the European and American Indian cultures.

To me, this is a recognition not just of the fact that some people find it controversial to celebrate Columbus Day, but of the diversity of cultures and experiences that exist among the people of the Americas. So I thought you’d find it interesting to see this article I published about the different ways in which Columbus Day is celebrated in North America. Here is an excerpt that discusses the non-Columbus Day celebrations:

Discoverer’s Day and Native American Day - Not everyone celebrates Columbus Day, although some states have come up with their own takes on the holiday. Hawaii, for instance, commemorates Discoverer’s Day. It’s not an official state holiday, but the day is meant to honor the Polynesian discoverers of Hawaii. In South Dakota, meanwhile, there is a state holiday on Monday, but since 1989 it has been known as Native American Day in recognition of the nine American Indian tribes who live in the state.

Dia de la Raza - In Mexico and some other Latin America countries, Columbus’ discovery of the Americas is celebrated as Dia de la Raza (or “Day of the Race”). It’s not necessarily a celebration of Columbus, but rather a commemoration of the encounter between Europeans and Native Americans, since many Latin Americans trace their ancestry to this mixing of cultures.

Canadian Thanksgiving - Finally, although it doesn’t have a thematic connection to Columbus Day, the second Monday in October is also the day of Canadian Thanksgiving. It is meant as a day of thanks at the traditional end of the harvest season. So, although for very different reasons, many Americans, Canadians and Mexicans all have cause to celebrate on Monday.

Meanwhile, it’s also worth noting that Columbus wasn’t the only European credited with discovering the Americas. Part of that honor also goes to Leif Erikson, the Viking who sailed from Greenland to what is now Canada in the 11th century. You may have missed it, but last Friday was actually Leif Erikson Day in the United States.

It’s no secret that culture plays a role in health care, from our systems of medicine to our personal decisions. When a person receives health care in his or her home country, there are unlikely to be many clashes over culture because it’s a medical system that he or she knows and understand well. The United States is not a homogeneous culture, though, but rather one that attracts a regular influx of immigrants from around the world. Health care misunderstandings are more likely to occur when individuals or families from other cultures, particularly non-Western cultures, meet American medicine. So I read with interest this recent story about a California hospital that makes allowances for Hmong immigrants from Laos to receive treatment from a shaman as well as from a physician.

The patient in Room 328 had diabetes and hypertension. But when Va Meng Lee, a Hmong shaman, began the healing process by looping a coiled thread around the patient’s wrist, Mr. Lee’s chief concern was summoning the ailing man’s runaway soul.

“Doctors are good at disease,” Mr. Lee said as he encircled the patient, Chang Teng Thao, a widower from Laos, in an invisible “protective shield” traced in the air with his finger. “The soul is the shaman’s responsibility.”

At Mercy Medical Center in Merced, where roughly four patients a day are Hmong from northern Laos, healing includes more than IV drips, syringes and blood glucose monitors. Because many Hmong rely on their spiritual beliefs to get them through illnesses, the hospital’s new Hmong shaman policy, the country’s first, formally recognizes the cultural role of traditional healers like Mr. Lee, inviting them to perform nine approved ceremonies in the hospital, including “soul calling” and chanting in a soft voice.

The policy and a novel training program to introduce shamans to the principles of Western medicine are part of a national movement to consider patients’ cultural beliefs and values when deciding their medical treatment. The approach is being adopted by dozens of medical institutions and clinics across the country that cater to immigrant, refugee and ethnic-minority populations…

A recent survey of 60 hospitals in the United States by the Joint Commission, the country’s largest hospital accrediting group, found that the hospitals were increasingly embracing cultural beliefs, driven sometimes by marketing, whether by adding calcium- and iron-rich Korean seaweed soup to the maternity ward menu at Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles, on the edge of Koreatown, or providing birthing doulas for Somali women in Minneapolis.

By the way, if the story of Hmong immigrants dealing with American doctors sounds vaguely familiar, that’s because it was also the subject of an excellent book about 10 years ago, called The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down. If you’re at all interested in cross-cultural topics, especially as they involve health care, you should check out the book.

Sure, everyone knows that you can trip over Roman ruins nearly everywhere you go in Rome. And that there are similar ruins scattered across a wide swath of Europe and the near Middle East. But what about North Africa? Have you ever considered trekking to Libya, Algeria or Tunisia to see Roman ruins? Probably not. But the Romans were quite active in this part of the Mediterranean, as well, especially after they defeated and then rebuilt Carthage. Today, a number of ruins left over from the days of the Roman empire are strewn across the deserts of North Africa. This Heritage Key article reviews some of the more impressive ones.

Leptis Magna (Libya)- Originally a small town of no particular importance, the backwater’s standing soared to prominence when one of its natives, Septimius Severus, rose to the rank of Emperor in AD193…Today, the location is one of the few remaining that projects a sense of what an Imperial city was really like in its day, from the glorious arch standing at the crossroads of the Cardo and Decumanus, to the wonderful theatre with the sea backdrop, with markets and bathhouses en route.

El Djem (Tunisia) - This spectacular amphitheatre, third largest in the Roman world and arguably the one in the best condition, is stunning, Rising up above the flat, fertile, inland plane, this enormous round structure dominates the scene and the small town. Wander around inside taking in the view from the top tier and then underneath the arena, where combatants, both animal and human, were kept before the main events. Nearby is the House of Africa, a museum built around an actual villa.

Timgad (Algeria) - Dating from Trajan’s fortified establishment for retired army veterans in AD100, this settlement is built to an archetypal template of a regional Roman town. Constructed on a flat plane, the grid system works perfectly and virtually all the features needed for Roman life are here. From the preserved theatre, note the Triumphal Arch and the Forum as reference points.  It’s hard to find a better example of a provincial city.

The full Heritage Key story has a list of 10 sites in four countries.

A lot of great music has been made in the United States, and much of it has roots in the South. In fact, if you journey through just a few southern states, you can have a fascinating time exploring the roots of jazz, blues, soul, bluegrass, country, and rock and roll. You can experience even more of the country’s musical heritage if you extend your explorations into the Midwest.

So if you’re interested in taking a pilgrimage into the roots of American music, you should check out this road trip that I created. It’s a two-part journey that enables you to explore much of the musical heritage of the United States. You can read my description of the trip here (and here), and use these Google maps to follow along.

View The roots of American music in a larger map

View The roots of American music (part two) in a larger map

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

In this photo are two of the most famous sites related to American independence. In the foreground is the Liberty Bell, silhouetted against a background that includes Independence Hall, where the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution were both signed.