There are no UNESCO World Heritage Sites in the city of Little Rock. If this annoys, disappoints, or discourages you in any way, please move on to another site, and another city (maybe in Europe somewhere), before the full impact of this primitive situation makes its fatal impact on your culturally delicate soul. Thank you ever so much.
Kind Little Rocker
We were on our way to the nearest liquor store when I heard someone calling me. A nice black lady was yelling at me from a hotel shuttle van. I walked over and she offered us a ride. Wow, I thought. People are so friendly here. She doesn’t even know me and she’s taking time out of her busy day to do us a favor.
I told her where I was going. She frowned and said that was far. Far? Somebody at the hotel told me it was just down the street, maybe 5 city blocks. “Oh no, no. It’s farther than that,” she said. Turned out she was right. It would’ve taken all afternoon to get there and back. She even waited for me while I went into the store.
The Daiquiri
I have a daiquiri at night. This is true, especially in hotels. The doctor ordered one (sometimes two) Daiquiri(s) at bedtime. Not a Margarita, a Daiquiri. There’s a big difference. One is Mexican, the other Cuban. NO STRAWBERRIES are in a real Daiquiri. I apologize for all caps but there is no other way to stress how important that is. And nothing is ever frozen. Nothing. Not even the balls off a brass monkey. Those of you who have plied the seas will understand my meaning.
Back to the story. Now that I think about it, there was no one in the street, no pedestrians, none. I saw one or two homeless people, but other than that Moe and I were it. Was that why she picked us up? Could there be a crime issue in Little Rock? Yes, there could. I looked it up. Little Rock, Arkansas, remains the most dangerous city between 100,000-200,000 people, with a remarkably high violent crime rate. Man, that sucks. I wish I would’ve looked that up before I came here. But, now I know. And thank you, kind lady. We will never know what tortures we escaped thanks to your most welcome intervention.
Strange looking llama…and it’s in 3D. Must be a hologram.
Buenos Aires, Argentina, Airport
We were at the domestic terminal waiting for a flight to Resistencia. Whereas before we had remained coastal on our trips to South America, we were going inland this time. We as in Alex, Maureen, Moi, and Ms. Kesha DeSheilds. Ms. DeSheilds is ATA World Sparring Champion for 2015 and Moe’s instructor. We were headed down to Argentina for the Pan-American tournament that takes place every fall somewhere in South America.
Resistance Wasn’t Futile
It’s cool that the name of this city is “Resistance”. The native population fought back so hard against the Spanish Conquistadors that they actually named the town that. I would be proud to be one of them because they never gave up. Are there other cities in the world actually named after the inhabitants’ own chutzpah? This city is the capital of Chaco Province.
Resistencia sits on the Paraná River on the eastern edge of the Chaco Province in Argentina. As of 2021, it is the poorest province in Argentina. Chaco means ‘hunting ground’ in Quecha. The Paraná River flows for 3,032 miles south. It is the second-longest river in South America after the Amazon.
They didn’t want to be told how to live or what to believe. They had their own ideas about the world and their place in it. And finally, they were nomads who hunted and fished. This was due to the harsh growing conditions. In fact, Jesuit priests in the 1500s understood this and didn’t press the issue. For example, the Qom did not grow and pick cotton because of the lousy growing conditions. Finally, the Qom were corralled into the dry part of Chaco. In that hot, arid country they could not go on. People started to live in Resistencia full-time in 1865. We also visited Corrientes across the river.
‘The Honorary Consul’ by Graham Greene took place in Corrientes. He said it was his favorite book to write. He said that Corrientes was fine if you did not spend the night there.
Useful travel tip: If you’re in a hurry, it only takes 4 minutes to microwave your underwear until it’s dry. Why would you be doing this? Because your luggage with all of your clothes, all of your personal items and diary, and an extra pair of shoes went on a Caribbean cruise. In other words, they lost my bag. I never saw it or its contents again, but they told me it got on a cruise. The airline eventually reimbursed me for everything that I lost. But let’s just say it was a serious handicap landing in Fortaleza with only the clothes on my back.
My new wardrobe. Yes, that’s right, brown and white Bermuda shorts with a black t-shirt that has bright, yellow bunches of bananas everywhere.
In the evening, I walked back to my hotel along the beach. When I got back to my room, I saw Wayne’s old underwear neatly folded on my pillow. I didn’t even know what it was at first. I’ve never seen anything like that before. I guess he felt sorry for me and sent his underwear over to my hotel. No, thank you, my friend. It’s true I’m desperate, but I’m not that desperate. It was nice of the maid to fold them neatly on my pillow.
Fortaleza’s beautiful beach with fishing boats at dusk
Herman Melville has a point. Lima is a depressing city. The gloom never leaves it. The sky is forever gray. Not once, the whole time we were there, did the sun come out. The dust, the smoke, and car exhaust all contribute to this. They call it ‘La Garua’, a thick sea mist. Add to this the fact that it is the second driest capital city in the world; dust coats everything. Lima is perched on a cliff on the Pacific Ocean and is home to 10 million people.
Lima Slum
On the first day in Lima, we went to the slum and I didn’t take my camera. I left the camera behind. I thought it was bad enough we were going to see people in dire conditions, and I wanted to respect their privacy. And yet, most of the money I paid for the tour went to the two families that we visited. I arranged this tour with Viator.
Our guide and driver picked us up at the hotel. The drive to the slum in Lima took about an hour because of the traffic. The whole city is one big congested knot of cars. But! Between those cars and on the sidewalks are dogs. Lots of ’em. In fact, we started to count them. We got to 350 and stopped counting. Our guide turned around and asked us what we were doing. We told him that we don’t have dogs running around like this at home. He smiled. It might not come as a surprise, but there were no small dogs.
Perros Limeones (Lima Dogs)
“Peruvian Men Are No Good”
The car dropped us off and left. The slum stretches along a huge hillside. We started to climb up a path. It was mid-morning and I didn’t see many people around. I found out later that most of the slum dwellers work and go to school in the city, then return home at night. Both of the homes we visited consisted of a mother and her children. Our guide, a Peruvian man, explained that Peruvian men are no good. He said they don’t take care of their families. Poverty is very hard on people and women are tougher when it comes to keeping the family together. Or, maybe, Peruvian men are just no damn good for anything or anyone.
The first woman lived in a home under a large slab of rock. The rock was dark gray. I felt at ease the moment I walked in because the rock was solid. It was protection. The ceiling was 10 feet high, more than enough for comfort. She lived in a cave. I thought it was pretty cool but there was no door, not even a possibility for one. She must cover the wide entrance with something, but I didn’t see anything.
When we walked in, she was standing behind a long narrow table covered with handmade crafts. I was not aware that there would be articles for sale on this tour. If I had known, I would’ve brought more cash with me. I never walk around with cash in a foreign country or wear jewelry. Our guide translated for us. I bought a necklace made from large purple and black seeds from the Amazon jungle.
The Second Home
We continued to walk farther up the hill. Donavin started to throw rocks on some corrugated metal sheets. I told him to stop because he was throwing stones on someone’s roof. The metal sheets were level with our feet because we were climbing a hill. This surprised him. It took him a moment to understand that those pieces of metal could be someone’s roof.
The second home was different because it had four walls, a roof, and a door. Although, the sky was visible through cracks where the walls and roof did not meet. This meant that there were flies everywhere. An elderly woman was sitting on the steps outside. We smiled at each other as I passed. Inside, we sat down at a big table and were served lunch.
It was chicken and rice with a purple, sweet drink made out of corn. The drink was very refreshing. Did you know that there are more than 55 varieties of corn in Peru? And they come in purple, white, orange, blue and black. The potato is also a Peruvian discovery. On the shores of Lake Titicaca 10,000 years ago, the humble potato made its debut into Incan society. There are over 4,000 varieties.
Wow
Living in the Lima Barrio
Moe, Donavin, and I were the only people eating. Even though the hostess, our guide, and two of her children also sat at the table. She told her story and as I listened my first thought was security. How do you raise a family here? I asked her about this. She explained that the police do not come into the slum. One man preserves law and order. The community votes for him. And if they don’t like him, they vote him out. She said that it was safe to live there and that people leave each other alone.
I asked if she owned this home. She said she did. The property consists of the dwelling only. There is no yard. She explained that you need to prove that the house is yours to own it. You can only get electricity if you prove the house is yours. There is no running water. Each family has two blue barrels one meter high and half a meter wide. They can fill them up with water once a week.
Before we left, everyone sang Happy Birthday, in Spanish, to Donavin. It was his 13th birthday.
After School Hang Out
On our way down the hill, we stopped at a small building that was a meeting place for children after school. We talked with a young lady who worked there. She spoke excellent English. She said that many parents work long shifts and are unable to be there when the children get home. This is a safe place where they can play with other children while waiting for their parents. Unfortunately, we were too early to meet any of the kids.
What started as a workers union led by Lech Wałęsa at the Gdańsk Shipyard, turned into one of the biggest grassroots civic movements in world history. In 1982, amid martial law in Poland, when the trade union was delegalized, the movement had close to 10 million members. The population of Poland at that time was 36 million.
It remains the most powerful symbol of a nation too proud to submit to oppression. It is a nail in the coffin of communism in Europe.
This banner was the first thing we saw when we looked out our hotel window in downtown Warsaw. Even though the movement started back in 1980, its message is as important today as it was back then. Belarusians can take a page from the Solidarity playbook.
And one more thing before I continue. Warsaw has been destroyed and rebuilt so many times, it is called the Phoenix City.
Travel to Learn
Maureen’s history teacher had never heard of The Warsaw Uprising I’m sure there are many histories he is aware of that I have never heard of. This is why we travel. Mark Twain wrote, “I travel to learn.” How can you not visit a place or a foreign country and not learn a little bit about it while you are there? Even a flea-bitten, tourist trap of a tropical island has a history. You do it, and yourself, a disservice if you don’t attempt to find out what that history is.
Deep in the Belarusian backwoods, there is one of the largest ostrich farms in Europe. When I say Strauss, you think Johann Strauss, right? The composer of the world-famous “Blue Danube” waltz. Does he remind you of an ostrich? Do ostriches ever enter into it at all when you see the name Strauss? I think not. Then why does ‘Strauss’ mean ostrich in Russian?
The sign reads:Welcome toOstrich Ranch Black African Ostriches from South Africaliving in the Belarusian countryside.
This ranch is located near Kobrin, approximately 45 miles from Brest. Moe wouldn’t bring her ostrich skin purse to the farm out of a certain sensitivity to the feelings of the big poultry. We ate ostrich while the poor birds roamed around outside. “Aren’t they beautiful?” asked Lucy. “Yeah”, I said as I gulped down more stew. Beautiful, tasty, enormous fowl.
Back at the Vesta Ranch
They finally changed the sheets. It only took them one week. I hear the VIPs on the fifth floor get new sheets every day. This must be the only hotel (Vesta Hotel) in the world where they still use keys instead of cards. One more thing, when you want to call the front desk; it is a six-digit number. Only when you call it, the number has been changed to…So you call THAT six-digit number. Again, we have no water from 11 am to 3 pm. I think they started construction the day we arrived and will finish it the day we leave.
It’s so hot. Almost 30 Celsius in this room. There’s no AC. They’ve finished digging the hole and laid the pipe. Today they filled in the hole. I hope they won’t be back. Now it’s only the crows who wake me up at dawn. Today we ate at the hotel. Moe had fried potatoes (dryanniki) and pork with mushroom sauce. I had blini with cottage cheese. It was really good Belarusian fare.
Moe’s favorite spot. We literally hang out here. We are on the 4th floor.
What’s that you say? That is a National Park. Belovezhskaya Pushcha is Europe’s last remnant of a primeval forest. ‘Belo’ means white. ‘Vezha’ means tower. Pushcha is an old Polish word that means primeval forest. It is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The coolest thing about this place is that it is the oldest wildlife refuge in Europe.
May I digress? UNESCO stands for United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organization. They will decide what is educational, scientific, or culturally significant and worth preserving. We, the masses, need some group of nameless, faceless people to tell us that. Who are they to tell me what is worth preserving and what is not? I’ll decide for myself. Let’s continue.
Let’s pause for thought here. I am smacking myself on the forehead. I never even thought of the infirm or physically challenged patrons. What are THEY supposed to do? Well, I guess they use the handicapped facilities. But, also, if they have the technology to build normal, everyday bathrooms, then why can’t they? Why can’t they do this for the rest of us? Are we not worthy?
Normal toiletSatisfied Customer
Back to the Pushcha
The Pushcha is what remains of a forest that once sprawled from the Baltic Sea to the Bug River. Now it covers 650 square miles. It is near the village of Kamenyuki, 93 miles from Brest. You can take a bus from Brest (see schedule at ticketbus.by.) A Lithuanian prince declared it a nature reserve way back in the 1300s. However, this is apparently bunk. Deforestation was outlawed in 1588. This is also bunk. They are cutting trees as I write this.
In 1795, the forest became part of the Russian Empire and Tsars hunted there. Now, this is true. Most royalty love to hunt except for England’s Edward II. And he died a particularly gruesome death. But, not because he didn’t like to hunt. It’s a wild, sordid story. One I would truly love to tell. But, alas, it doesn’t fit in here so let’s move on, shall we?
A remnant of Tsardom in the forest is on the Royal Path. The cast-iron railing over a small bridge sports a two-headed eagle. It is the symbol of both tsarist Russia and today’s Russia. Poland and Belarus share the forest.
Before we go any further…
Don’t expect to hop in your car and drive around the park without a good reason and special permission. Most of the forest borders Poland, and people are not allowed near the border. Tourists stick to a designated area. There are two sightseeing buses twice a day. Organized bike groups on approved routes with a guide are available.
If you do rent a bike you get a booklet with a map and points of interest along the way. There are about 6 routes and the longest is 11.8 miles. No one will harass you but make sure you a) bring the bike back on time and, b) don’t linger near the border. There are also some small houses to overnight in. You can go fishing. You can’t camp out though. I read that they have a new route for electric scooters. For the latest go to https://npbp.by/eng/tours/cycle-routes/
I discovered that they have tours in English every hour at Auschwitz. They recommend not to bring children under 14. Yes, of course. What was I thinking? Maureen finally tired of playing x-box with the other kids in the lobby of the hotel. I told her we needed to change our ticket and go to Krakow instead. It’s 3.5 hours from Warsaw, and we would have to share the train car with 6 other people. We’ll see what happens with that.
Posters for our Viewing Pleasure
We ate Shwarma in the alley behind the Egyptian place and then walked to the train station. I must say, doesn’t seem to be any Pro-Putinites in this neck of the woods. I wonder why?
Posters in Context
Street Scene near the Train Station
Lost in a Labyrinth
We got lost in this labyrinth coming back from the train station. Try not to get lost in a labyrinth. I took this picture of the roundabout on Marshall Square from our hotel window. I stared at that a few times before making a break for it.
Subterranean Blues
As you can see it is a daunting task to try and navigate this thing on foot overland with a child. But, it is possible. And once you cross this roundabout, you can see the station. It helped to keep the train station in view to reach it.
On the return trip underground, we ended up far from our hotel. So we dove back under many times. We resurfaced every so often to look around. We kept this up until, lo and behold, we popped up at the Novotel. I felt like a groundhog. It was worth it though. I bought a few beautiful calendars. It’s full of kiosks down there.
“Punta del Este is the only place in the world where I can go out without a bodyguard.”
Heiress Athina Onassis
Arriving in Punta del Este, Uruguay
It’s definitely a plus not to need a bodyguard, but it isn’t why we went to Punta del Este. Although, it is a testament to how safe the town is. Maureen is State Sparring Champion two years in a row. She missed three years in a row by one point. And she went down to Punta to beat the pantaloons off little girls her own age. It took nine hours and forty-five minutes to Buenos Aires from Atlanta. Our connecting flight to Montevideo was late because there were not enough people to take it. While waiting, we watched the martial artists in action.
Please note that citizens of Belarus cannot access this website. I had to email each page to my people in Brest. And this is just a travel blogthat they are not allowed to see.
(But first, a few days in Warsaw)
On our way over to Brest Belarus, we had front-row seats to a medical emergency. The guy sitting directly in front of Moe was dizzy and sweating and then he fainted. The pilot made an announcement requesting doctors on board to please assist. Fifteen minutes later, two women showed up. One was a nurse. Then FORTY minutes later a German cardiologist appeared. They laid him down in the four seats in front of us, kicking everybody out, and congregated around my head for over an hour discussing the whole thing.
This gentleman turned out to be 40 years old, on his way from Mexico to New Delhi via Houston, and he didn’t drink or eat anything for four days because he did not like the food and water in Mexico. I mention this because I couldn’t read or watch a movie for over an hour.
Moe and I are at the Radisson Blu Hotel in downtown Warsaw. Maureen is rooting for Belgium in the Soccer Cup. It’s in Polish. Sponge Bob was in German. Earlier she was sitting out in the hall for something to do and eating ice out of the ice bucket. I heard a woman say, “Why don’t you change the channel?” She came in shortly after that. I mean Maureen, not the woman.
Warsaw Destroyed and Rebuilt
“It is decisive to completely destroy Warsaw”
Heinz Guderian, German general
The “old downtown” has been painstakingly and lovingly rebuilt.
Warsaw is a lot more modern than I thought it would be. There are still Soviet-style apartment buildings everywhere, just like in Budapest, but more new buildings are going up. There are also more old parts of Budapest because it was not bombed to smithereens. Warsaw was not destroyed by planes dropping bombs on it during World War II. Warsaw was leveled to the ground by Nazi engineers who methodically placed explosives in every building.
The Church of All SaintsThe Church of All Saints was damaged in the Warsaw Ghetto uprising and the Warsaw uprising in 1943 and 1944
Wartime Haven
This church in downtown Warsaw was located in the Warsaw (Jewish) Ghetto during World War II. The 75-year-old priest at the time, Marceli Godlewski, did not like Jewish people. However, when he realized German forces were murdering Jews, he did everything he could to help them. His priests hid Jewish children, smuggled in food and drugs, fed the starving inhabitants, and smuggled people out. He saved between 1 to 3,000 Jewish people. He is recognized as one of the “Righteous among Nations” by Israel.
Maureen with Pope John Paul IIat The Church of All Saints
