The gospel according to Saramago...

Saramago has died. A good reason to awake my dormant writing. His words have inspired me for a decade now, since I first read The Cave. His craftsmanship combined with the wisdom of he who sees beyond the surface, and manages to reach the core of the fruit without destroying its beauty, has left us today at 87. Poignant, relevant, critical of this world but intimately in love with it, Saramago managed to raise important questions about the open wounds of the human condition, our creations and destructions. A great loss because his words will no longer procreate. Yet a great gain because he was… because he existed, and left such a legacy behind him. He won’t be going to heaven because he didn’t believe in it, he won’t go to hell because it is too small for him… he’ll come back as a tree, as Cipriano Algor, or as the man with the black eye patch, or as the seeing woman or simply as the cellist, who surprisingly will not die!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/José_Saramago Share

Feb 13 Strasbourg and the legacy of Gutenberg!

Au Crocodile has been passed on through many generations and now hangs, lifeless, from the ceiling of the Strasbourg restaurant bearing his name. Dinner is not cheap but it is flavoursome, très français, very ceremonial, and surprisingly light. I could type up the menu but that would mean more delays on posting this blog entry. I’d rather upload a photo of the St. Valentine’s carte du jour!

Strasbourg, a European Union capital in the Alsace region was built on and around water. Its canals trick you into feeling like you're in a “bike-less” Amsterdam. A nice mix of German and French cultures make it clean, conservative and interesting. Wikipedia says that the city's name has been “Gallicized” from a Germanic origin meaning "Town (at the crossing) of roads". Gutenberg might have been inspired by this busy intersection when crafting the most influential invention of our modern times… the printing press. He lived here for a while. As a crossroads, Strasbourg was a pleasant surprise in my transition between Africa and the former Soviet Union.

The Hotel Regent Petite France where I stayed is a modern gem built within old walls, tastefully renovated and relatively inexpensive compared to what you can get in Frankfurt for double the price. Another restaurant I savoured was Les Deux Gourmandes. Smaller and family run. A cozy living-room-type bistro, equally reptile-friendly, detailed and as full of ritual. I love the French eating pace. One can spend hours at the table without the pressure of humming waiters asking cliché questions such as: “how are you guys doing?” or “here’s your bill but don’t worry, whenever you are ready” …right! In Canada tables are often double booked thus one is expected to leave shortly after the last sip of coffee… Not in France… it is like “you stay, you enjoy, we take our time as well… life is rude but belle!

My selected book for the moment, pretty much in tune with Valentine’s weekend, was The Lover (1984) by Marguerite Duras. I have read the two versions of it, one in Spanish and the other one in English. The Lover was written in the form of an autobiography as the young Duras narrates in first-person. The Lover from Northern China (El Amante de la China del Norte), released concurrently with the film version, was written in film script form and in the third person. I enjoyed both. Duras is sharp, short sentenced, extremely detailed in single terms and in bold observations. She says it all in petite sentences like: "Very early in my life it was too late." Definitely one of my favourite authors. When I visited Saigon (Ho Chi Min City), I endlessly thought of the way Duras described food, colours, steam, humidity… wow, that was a genius showered in sweat in the expanding borders of "French" Indochine!

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Feb 11 - Ghana

Despite the infernal heat, the drive to Cape Coast in Ghana was my gift from the gods. And my companionship: god’s angels. How lovely the people, how cordial, how thriving, how inspiring. My friend BG was right. The coast is natural, ages old with fishing villages by its shores and hunters on the road selling rodents (some smoked, some still breathing). Gospel on the radio and Nana, my group leader, telling stories about religion, traditions, politics.

We stopped at the University of Cape Coast to talk to students. Impressive. The sculpture of mother wisdom feeding her child caught my eye. I also found bright smiles that tell you stories, colourful fashion, elegant talk. I was treated very well. I was told that is how officials treat foreigners... often better than locals. I used my “foreign-ness” as a charming way to grab their attention… and to invite them to come to Canada with me. We then visited boarding schools, for girls, for boys, private, public, wealthier and not so, uniformed, organized, old enough to be soon celebrating their first century.

On the way back, we visited one of the various fortresses or castles used to gather slaves before shipping them away. Most of them were Portuguese but this one was Dutch. A bit dilapidated, although recently renovated, it sits as a silent reminder at the top of a hill in the midst of a crowded neighbourhood. A tired-looking man in his forties is the key holder. As we walked into the small dark rooms where people from the region were ‘herded’, I felt my pores jump and my eyes pour. And there was that “door of no return” through which stolen generations of men and women walked off their land and disappeared onto the ocean… under the supervision of greedy traders and the ambitious colonizers of the Americas.

I come from Africa too. I felt at home in Ghana. Colombia is also a multicultural society where races have mixed again and again. It is difficult to trace one’s heritage. We are an amalgamation of Europe (with all its combinations and permutations), Africa (mostly from this region of the West Coast) and from the local sedentary inhabitants of the land, rich Aboriginal families (Muiscas, Chibschas, Quimbayas) who lived on “Pacha Mama” for centuries before Columbus. I’m sure African blood runs through my veins… I felt it in the beat of my heart drumming as I saw the boat makers make boats and followed the waves that bathe their bare toes…
Back in Accra the bi-colour cabs buzzed. There were ads welcoming Obama in full smile along John Atta Mills, the Ghanaian president. From North Ridge where I stayed (at the Alisa Hotel) to the steaming streets of a city with a large football stadium, I melted with the inclement sun but suffered no pain. For the first time on my trip I saw traffic police. I noticed that my driver uses the emergency break instead of the pedal break to stop and the highways are divided by fence-like barricades adorned with chicken wire to ‘encourage’ street-crossers to use pedestrian bridges. Along the road I saw big markets, informal vendors. They sell wedding dresses, iron bars, stereo speakers, fridges, evangelical churches, remedies for tumors and other malformations, food.

As we listened to the radio there was a catchy tune that I started to whistle. Nana, Collins and Cynthia laughed. What do the lyrics say? I asked. “Give me a quarter, I'll forget all my sorrows and I'll pay you tomorrow”. It refers to getting a shot glass of ‘akpeteshie’, the 40% alcohol local gin… that helps one forget about the daily burdens so that tomorrow never comes…

I missed the akpeteshie. If there is a tomorrow, I must return to Ghana for my quarter. Share

Feb 6 - The Lion and the Jewel - Lagos

With the challenge of technology comes this delayed video from Lagos... no, it was not filmed at the beginning of the 20th century. My writings and postings have been as slow as uploading these videos onto YouTube. I am now in Ukraine... a lot to share. This video was shot on February 6



Unlike Chinua Achebe who has an Ibo (Igbo) tradition from Nigeria's South East,Wole Soyinka has a Yorùbá cultural heritage from the Lagos region. He was the first African to win the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1986 for his extense work. In 1959 he published his comedy The Lion and the Jewel which I depict here. An amusing short play filled with colour, sense of space and creativity. Share

Feb 7 - The Blowfish Hotel - Lagos

Blowfish expand like globes. They are cute water versions of porcupines. Nevertheless, I would have never expected to stay at a hotel with this name. I did in Lagos. Everyone locally calls it the Blue Fish, it sounds more pristine and inviting. I agree. I have never scratched the surface of a blowfish but I imagine surprises. That’s what I have found at this relatively small boutique hotel in the heart of Victoria Island. It is so secluded that it has no sign on the door (apparently you pay a lot of money for such signs in Nigeria); so one enters the place like a secret guest through the garage front door.

Bright pink external walls, the Blowfish invites you with its furniture, its many bellmen, porters and other uniformed staff. Wow, it seems like it is going to be a good stay! Oh, wait a minute… my newly assigned tiny room hasn’t been cleaned, it looks like somebody just got up… and the toilet, oh no… what happened? Not a nice welcoming ceremony. Ok, after a few minutes, the baby-looking manager with an Arab accent comes to my rescue. He apologizes a million times and ‘upgrades’ me to a corner room where I can actually walk a bit. I like the windows facing the street and I settle down for one night. The internet is not working… but it must be down for now, maybe tomorrow. But tomorrow never comes. I cannot even see the wireless network on the list of available ones. I’ll have to live for 4 days without access to my inbox. My consolation, phones and blackberries work just fine.

I find this hotel a resemblance of the two extreme realities of our world. On one hand a very wealthy elite who “enjoys” the benefits of good food, fine shelter, and a social life. On the other, the vast majority a nation (and many nations), working hard to please that elite, trying to make ends meet (sometimes at whatever cost).

The Blowfish administration is trying to fill the gap between those ends. Good luck! And here we are, westerners, asking for lotion in the bathroom, clean water, reliable internet… when I complain about the service I am left with this bitter sense of guilt inside… How can I dare to ask for more?

The same combo goes for luxury cars driving on dirt roads and the poorest people talking on cell phones. We forget, I forget, how this is, because in Canada things seem much different. Although, we can always scratch the surface, and dig a little deeper to find out that the poor will always be there and be more than we imaines (ask the organizers of the Vancouver Olympics). We are sitting on a very privileged chair in a small dining room. Although… chairs can always tumble and fall…

I wrote this in the silence of my secluded fortress:
“In the open night, abandoned at their mercy and with no tail to rid them of mosquitoes, two men lay down on a straw mat. Instead, they scratch their legs with their toe nails. Their dusty sandals as pillows. The heavens as the infinite end they could sink into. They try to sleep. They toss around while the palm trees hardly move. The only street light in their faces is a reminder of the cement floor on which they try to rest. They are lying on the backyard of a big house besides a shiny Land Rover. The humid air weighing on their shirtless bodies. They evaporate in sweat. Rub their chests with naked hands. Once in a while, get up to pray… on the same mat. They kneel and stand, kneel and stand with silent prayers. They also play with the keypad on their cell phones. They call people and throw laughs around in retaliation. They seem restless. They go out onto the road to shake hands with other pals. They piss on the walls. I see them through the window of my air conditioned room on the third floor. I wonder when they are going to start the next revolution. And I see motorcycles stop. People chat. Passing cars give me snapshots of life with their beam lights. I see hollow roads, and moving shadows that bounce around. I hear ghosts of the past; I see spirits of the present. And they talk with loud enthusiasm and even smoke despite the pressing heat. But the sounds of engines swallow any singing”.

Requirement of the day: reliable internet and laundry.
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Feb 4 Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe (Posted in Accra Feb 8)

I am finally in Lagos. A bit tired after a long day. The city welcomes me with the humid heat of a port. The Virgin Nigeria flight was short, calm, full and relatively on time. Adekoya waves at me with the Canadian Embassy sign. He will drive Tushar (a colleague) and myself to the Blowfish hotel. Vendors on the street, blowing horns, taxi drivers wave some kind of an ID at us. We drive through the crowds as if we were celebrities. A huge green billboard displays a beautiful woman and a Nigerian flag. It prays: “Be still and know that I am God”. This city is anything but still: Women carrying kids beg through the traffic, many sell water, a young girl signals cars to stop as she crosses the busy road with a tray of fruit on her head. Welcome to the buzzing Lagos, largest city in Nigeria.


Soon after we drive out of humanity to enter a long highway… It could be Buenos Aires, Shanghai, Ho Chi Min City or anywhere in India as Tushar states. The road is bumpy but steady and we advance like a sail boat in the sea. As we get off the free way we enter a higher-end neighbourhood, we see a mall, we pass by the higher buildings and end up across from a garage door: That’s the blowfish; almost a pension, a boutique hotel.

P.S. I just Watched the video and noticed it didn't upload properly... darn... I can see it well on my computer. Oh well... Things Fall Apart, what better conclusion...I'll try to fix it soon, for now I think it is fun!... Cheers).

As I wait for a chicken and avocado sandwich in my room, I lose faith in blogging tonight. The internet is not working. Neither was my first room. They assigned me one that hadn’t been clean. The benefit of my complaint was an upgrade, but it came with a price, no internet on sight… I have also lost my faith in recovering my camera. The local Lufthansa people told me "it had not been found". I hope whoever has it, can do wonders with it. It contains my latest video from the Frankfurt-Abuja flight… where I was sharing the clouds with all of you. What can one do? Just move on. My webcam seems to be in conflict with YouTube and I burnt a converter last night… I just hope I can share my Nigerian books with you before I depart on Sunday.
My chicken and avocado has arrived. And as I am starving I will stop for a little while. The fries are very salty but my palate doesn’t seem to mind. Share

Feb 2 Fela Kuti and my journey to Abuja - Nigeria

Some technical difficulties and a loss… but here I am. I have arrived in Abuja, capital city of Nigeria. It is my first time visiting West Africa. As we flew over the Mediterranean sea and entered Africa through Tunisia and Morocco (waving to my friends P+B)... my interest in the dessert grew. The flight satellite image looked like this massive extension of yellowish/orange land that ended on a green bank… Nigeria. Desserts are maegestic (Sheila, you should follow your dad steps and tell us that story...)
I am a bit sad because I left my video camera on the plane. That means that I may not be able to video blog the way I had planned. The unexpected happened… I was just wondering what everything had gone so smooth… I have this idiosyncratic believe that there’s always a stone in the shoe… perhaps because I know how distracted I can be. I can pack the perfect suitcase and forget the most important item from my list… oh darn!
So far so good. Entering Nigeria was simple, friendly, easy. Yes, it was warm but manageable; and the Canadian embassy people were there waiting for us. I got a new phone SIM card and exchanged some US into Naira. Two things I forgot to bring: a 3 leg converter (those which look like fridge plugs) and my iPod charger. The hotel is ok, and the Tuesday’s seafood buffet was great as well as the local beer, Star. I can hear the reggae like music on the different patios. I swear I heard Spanish Salsa music on the elevator before. I am now fighting with the internet connection for the service to work. It did earlier on but now it is simply dead… and I called the front desk to ask for assistance and they promised to call me back… 10 minutes ago.
I slept on the plane and listened to music; but also finished my first book by a Nigerian author. I shall talk about it tomorrow. It was fun. I also started a play by another famous Nigerian author (clue: he has one of the most amazing hair-dues... can you guess?). I can already see some similarities between the two storytellers.
What does this city smell like? Hard to say. It’s a combination of smells: the air conditioning, fried sweet plantains, sweat combined with expensive perfume, liquor, serene forest breeze. What does it feel like? It feels like things work but at their own pace. People are way friendly but extremely laid back. They do their minimum possible as not to stress and assure you everything is going to be fine. I kind of like that. They are pretty, well groomed, some men tall and strong; women play with their hair and their hips. They greet you as you pass by, but not with the Asian ceremony… it is more like a next-door neighbour type of attitude.
Fela Kuti (from Wikipedia) was born in 1938 and left this world in August 1997. He was a Nigerian multi-instrumentalist musician and composer, pioneer of afrobeat music, human rights activist, and political maverick. He's been my friend and travel companion since S and I watched The Visitor a couple of year ao. Here goes excentric Fela!


And of course, the movie of the day: The visitor (2008) directed by Thomas McCarthy. If you've watched the TV series "Six Feet Under" you will recognize Mr. Richard Jenkins who plays cold Professor Walter Vale.
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Feb 1 Is God dead? Nietzsche and my Frankfurt stop-over

I land in Frankfurt before dawn. I see snow on the airport tarmac for the first time. I had never been to Germany in the winter-winter. I am surprisingly not as sleepy as I should be. I cross customs with ease and walk to the train station instinctively. I've been using this route for quite sometime now and know my way quite well (although this airport seems to be under constant construction). Germans are friendly at a distance. They look at you with neutral eyes (they may wonder about your existence but won't hesitate to show it).

As I walk on ice to my destination I decide to stop at a corner on kandleStrasse... to shoot. My question of the day is a controversial one, that some of us may dare to wonder about at times... is God dead? or is he/she alive? Nietzsche got into this dilemma and he stated it in "Thus spoke Zarathustra", a slightly complicated read, that as most philosphical accounts, leaves one with more questions than possible answers.
This novel was published between 1883 and 1885 and besides its remark on the "funeral of the deity" it also deals with a theme I found amazing at the time: the "eternal recurrence of the same". Inspired by Nietzsche, I wrote a short story that I included in my novel Humanum (2001). It is entitled 'David y su Eterno Retorno'. Thus spoke Zarathustra is much denser and esoteric, Nietzsche uses the style of the Bible in order to oppose Christian and Jewish morality and tradition... an interesting concept.

Dusk is hitting Frankfurt and I am going back home to share with my warm hosts. I'll try to be on my blog as much as I can. I am leaving to Abuja tomorrow before noon.

My tip of the day: the best remedy for jet-lag is a good coffee, a short nap, a couple of tylenols and waiting... waiting, waiting as long as you can before going to bed at night. I'll let you know how it works. Cheers! Share

Jan 31 Journey to the East - H.H. - Ottawa

No matter how far a specific date may seem, that day will arrive... time never stops. When I was a kid I used to see the year 2000 as a distant moment in the far future. I knew I would be 28 at the time, and in my mind that seemed like an eternity! Well, the year 2000 came along and is now long gone; in fact, it's been a decade ever since (you do the math).
Days inevitably arrive and the 31 of January, 2010 is now here. What does it mean? My trip to Africa and Russia is imminent.
I farewell Ottawa on a warmer day (-5 degrees). My first destination: Frankfurt, as a via point on my way to Abuja, capital of Nigeria. My author of the day is Herman Hesse, whom I thought to be a pure German but he happens to be a Swiss depsite his Black Forest birth in Southern West Germany. Journey to the East (published in 1932 as "Die Morgenlandfahrt)is a relatively short novel that involves famous characters such as Plato, Mozart, Pythagoras, Paul Klee, Don Quixote, and Baudelaire. They are all involved in this search-for-ultimate truth journey. "Truth" (as we may know) is a controversial word often charged with heavy expectations. Philosophy can certainly theorize about it, and Hesse does it quite well... but the truth about Truth is mirage.
I like journeys. They imply a great deal of learning and adventure. I am about to visit four countries I have never been to. I am glad I am starting in Frankfurt; a place that has become familiar to me, since it is an easy stop on the way to Africa and Eastern Europe. Frankfurt is the hometown of Goethe... another big thinker of our times... wished I had a moment to re-visit "his" house in the heart of the city.
I am a bit tired but not as jet-lagged as I thought I would be.

My tip of the day: Read on planes, it shortens distances and brighthens one's night. If you can accompany it with music... I recommend 'Bose' headsets and a good iPod playlist! Share

Jan 28 Avatar and the 20,000 leagues under the sea

After arousing my brain cells in front of the big screen with Avatar, I exposed my head to the freezing cold by walking onto the front entrance of the Coliseum theatre in Ottawa at minus whatever. That’s my disclaimer for “swallowing” the word “thousand” for Jules Verne’s 20,000 leagues under the sea. Instead I said 20!

I loved Jules Verne as a kid. He was a synonym of fun science and fiction. As soon as I could read I was given this beautiful collection of illustrated books and 20,000 leagues was one of them. A Journey to the Centre of the Earth (1864), From the Earth to the Moon (1865), Around the World in Eighty Days (1873) and one of my favourites, the Courier of the Czar, Michel Strogoff (1876), which I will talk about once I get to Russia!

A great number of us have heard of Nemo… but not only referring to the lost clownfish in Andrew Stanton’s film but also for Verne’s Captain Nemo and his submarine Nautilus. If you haven’t read the book … there is a “ride” in Florida’s Disney World with this theme…. And there’s also a movie from 1954... with Kirk Douglas playing Canadian master harpoonist Ned Land(a classic in technicolour)



And I am going to sound old, but I used to accompany my reading with what is now considered a toy: my red viewmaster (created in 1939). Remember the seven 3D stereo images rotating on that paper disk? I had one of the Nautilus being attacked by the gigantic squid (or octopus, according to the French version). ‘Twenty thousand leagues’ refers to the distance traveled by Captain Nemo, and his experience with New York professor Aronnax. They travel from the Arctic to the Antarctic through the seven seas. A ‘modern’ resemblance of Homer’s Odyssey and the ‘revolutionary’ vision of a free anarchic submarine detached from any land-based government (in times were devices of this kind were unthinkable).

Verne has been a best seller in most languages for years (after Agatha Christie); and so is James Cameron, Mr. box office success. I thought I would compare the Avatar of the 21st century to the creative and constructive science fiction mind of the 19th century. Verne’s submarines, balloons, rockets, trips to the centre of the earth and all other journeys… were beyond people’s imagination in his days. Cameron has managed to bring us to a different era as well, connecting the thematic reality of today (military powers, unfriendly-profit-oriented enterprises, endangered indigenous communities) to a modern computer-designed mythology. I liked Avatar… although I found some stereotypes that could’ve been avoided (like the ‘nature-oriented, spiritually inclined, animal-friendly’ portrayal of the Na'vi people). The script serves the standards of a good movie, and today’s technology facilitates the transition between the fragile human bone and the resilient blue flesh. Avatar has magic moments and its use of light and colour is literally ‘fantastic’.

Suggestion of the day: let’s dust our view-masters and have a theme party… stereograms predate digital photos and were a great way to see tourist attractions especially from those places far from our reach. Share

Jan 27 - Blindness/Ensayo sobre la Ceguera - Ottawa

No, Canada doesn't have a President... that was a Lapsus Línguae on my video of the day... although, I am sure our Prime Minister would love to become the King of Canada (over our unpopular Prince Charles)!!!! Anyway, Canada is a parliamentary system unlike the US which is a Republic (you do your research).

And Yes, I hate the shiny light reflected on my glasses as well. I didn't have much time to find the right spot for my video entry last night... darn... oh well... it kinda goes with the theme... that layer of shine that may cover our eyes at times, preventing us from seeing.

Blindness is a wonderful essay on human condition and human interdependence. Beautifully written, quite disturbing on occasion, it is impossible to drop it. There are moments when you literally suffer the pains inflicted on the characters. Brilliant work of Nobel Prize Laureate Saramago. This book is my second favourite of his after the Cave. If you don't like reading, watch the movie. If you like reading, go for it... and then watch the movie. I thought the film wasn't going to be as interesting (it didn't get very good reviews in North America)... but it was actually quite good... the audience may not have been prepared to see themselves reflected on the screen! Fernando Meirelles the director (City of God, 2002) is a genius. The cast is excellent... and what about the slightly cheesy ending? Well, we all need some optimism after all... Hollywood endings are more popular than we think.



I like open endings... endings that leave you wondering, that allow your imagination to complete the scene. Those are rare... there's a little bit of that in this book and film (despite the spark of optimism). There is rebuilding ahead, and that is not shown... that part is left for us to reflect on.

I've chose this book because I see how Haiti will disappear from the TV radars soon. After two weeks a catastrophe becomes history... a Wikipedia entry... we will soon forget how the earth roared on January 12, 2010... killing thousands of already impoverished Haitians. We will forget because the earth rotates at a very fast speed. The struggle for survival in Haiti will get shadowed by Apple's new iPad, or by the State of the Union speech... we just throw more rubble on what is dated, and move on... is it nature? is it choice? is it just short-attention span?

Actual news, which is supposed to mean "information on a recent event or happening", is associated with 'media news' (which is what media outlets and media associations, i.e. AP...consider is a 'recent event')... well, if official media newscasts stop broadcasting an event... should we forget about it ourselves? Should we move on to the next catastrophe? This is today's open ending to ponder on...

Tip of the day: We, as citizens have more media power nowadays than we did before, because of the Internet and other social media outlets... let's continue to empower ourselves. Citizen journalism is IN! Share

Jan 26 El Limonar/The Lemon tree.. a song - Ottawa

Al saber que muy pronto ibas a volver,
la fuente silenciosa empezó a cantar,
el limonar del patio a reverdecer,
y el jazmín de la huerta volvió a aromar.

Al saber que muy pronto ibas a volver,
florecieron las rosas en el rosal;
y hasta la enredadera de tu balcón,
abrió ya sus capullos todos en flor.

Y están los naranjales llenos de azahar,
y las palmeras vuelven a suspirar,
tiene la primavera una nueva luz,
y es por que ya muy pronto regresas tú



This is a "Danza" song by Colombian composer Rafael Barros became my family's anthem for who knows what reason. There is no celebration where El Limonar is not requested.

The song says, not in a literal translation, that "as soon as I heard the news you were coming back, the silent fountain began to sing, the lemon grove in the backyard turned greener, and the jasmine flowers in the orchard released their fragrance. As soon as I heard the news you were coming back, the roses in the rose bush bloomed, and even the ivy hanging from the balcony had its buds flower. The orange groves are blossoming, and the palm trees are sighing, there is a new light for this Spring day, and it is all because you will soon return".

Lovely words... Share

Jan 25 - Intimacy and mediated relationships - Ottawa

I loved this book. and I warn you, it may be disturbing for some. It is very well written, modern... with the sincere confusion of people finding their ways, especially when they reach that middle age... and want to question everything all over again, relationships being one of those items.

Experimenting with my camera and web cam, I noticed the delay in my speech. And how my image, reflected on a computer screen and mediated over and over, resembled that approach to online intimacy. We are close but distorted. We can develop a sense of intimacy because the natural physical barriers allow us to open up to strangers, and yet, we are pixels away, hiding behind the comfort of a screen and a cheap web cam.

These thoughts remind me of two modern thinkers located perhaps at two opposite ends of the spectrum. One is Canadian educator Marshall McLuhan and "the medium is the message", meaning, as stated by Wikipedia, that "the form of a medium embeds itself in the message, creating a symbiotic relationship by which the medium influences how the message is perceived" (you go figure that one)and the other one is Slovenian philosopher Slavoj Žižek (this goes for my friend E)who talks about the impersonal forms of modern life, where we get to "experience" things without their essence... many products are deprived of their "malignant property": coffee without caffeine, cream without fat, beer without alcohol... and virtual sex without sex!

Tip of the day: we may want to revisit the term intimacy but especially its actual sense of existence.

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Jan 24 - The Kite Runner and sharing found books

By the way, I didn't keep the Kite Runner to myself... I passed it on the same way I found it. When my friend EH moved to Germany I gave it to him as his farewell present. It'd be great to know if E has read it and what his thoughts of the book are. Share your input if you read this blog entry. Let us know how far the kite has flown!

As a kid I used to fly kites. August is the windy month in Colombia. There is actually a very famous kite festival in Villa de Leyva (Boyaca). The fun part was to make one's own kite with string, wood sticks and colourful cellophane... and an old bed sheet that you ripped into strips of fabric for a tale... My own kites never went very far so my family ended up buying me one every year. They of course didn't last very long... they get caught in trees, they fall far off the hill where you're standing, they go flying on their own with a surprising gust of wind or they get stolen... Nevertheless it was so literally uplifting to see your kite flying higher than others, conquering the skies... right before circling and falling. Kites are magic, and the Kite Runner has the ability of reminding you of that innocence of childhood, and also the subsequent fall... when we as youth awake to many other realities we ignored out of excitement.

Here is a the "cheesy" trailer to the movie:

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Jan 23 "Pierogies for lunch" and the Prince by Machiavelli

I had never tried pierogies until I came to Canada, they are some kind of dumpling filled with stuff. When the government of Stephen Harper decided to "prorogue" parliament last year (cancel it/postpone it)to avoid a vote of confidence, the words prorogue and pierogi were matched up. "Pierogies are for lunch" was one of the lines that rally goers scream in front of the Parliament in Ottawa today as we got together to oppose the decision to close the House of Commons until the Olympics in Vancouver are over."Go back to work", "Don't shut democracy" and "Pass that bill" were some of the other popular lines.

Beautiful day to protest, somebody said that Mr. Harper may want to take credit for such a bright day as he believes to be "the king". I don't want to go that far, I'll call it "The Prince" as I choose this book by Machiavelli to be the one of the day.

Mr. Harper may think that "the end justifies the means", but he may be wrong this time. We certainly hope so... in the best interest of the country. It is hard to believe that he represents the vast majority of Canadians.


For more videos on the rally, please visit my YouTube channel: http://www.youtube.com/alvalle

Tip of the day: Never take for granted that the members of parliament represent us as the people of a nation and they are accountable to us because we elect them and give them the power to act on our behalf.

I'd like to thank Julie Laurin (A first-time rally-goer as well) for sharing her comments with me. This is the first of a two-video story that she's posted on her blog. You can follow her at: http://julielaurin.com/?p=582

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Jan 22 - Manufacturing Consent and the conspiracy theories - Ottawa

The two conspiracy theories are: On one hand... Pat Robertson



On the other one... Hugo Chavez



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Jan 21 No book or author of the day - Ottawa

I like to start by thanking my friends and readers for subscribing to this blog. It is a great incentive. I promise to share engaging moments during my upcoming trip of Africa and Russia. My sister sent me a sweet message today and at the end she mentioned this blog. She hadn't been able to check it out before as her speakers were down. She said "y pues obvio el 12 de Enero tus lindas palabras que me pusieron a llorar ahogada, sos un papasote lindo.Muchas gracias".
Translation: "And obviously, on January 12 your beautiful words that made me breathlessly cry, you are a sweetheart. Many thanks". The 12 was her birthday... it is amazing how we can communicate our feelings through this cold and seemingly impersonal medium...



Keeping this blog up to date is not easy. I like the discipline and commitment to it; but on ocassions I am simply swamped. Today is one of these days. You can see it in my eyes, "mirror of my soul" as a Spanish saying states.

Tip of the day: a few hours of non-stop sleep are much better than many restless hours in bed. Share

Jan 20 On being a Canadian - Ottawa

I am actually writing on the 21, a day after the fact. I am tired... it's been an emotional week. I am happy I took the oath. some people at work "welcomed" me to the bunch... I thought I was already in... but I guess it is like being baptized... it gives you a name, a blessing and it prevents you from going to Limbo!



My book of the day is a twofold. One i have read (and learned) and the other one I haven't seen yet. A look at Canada is the booklet I had to read in order to prepare for my citizenship test. It is a very basic recollection of Canada's history... very "sanitized" and somehow outdated. Discover Canada (http://www.cic.gc.ca/english/resources/publications/discover/index.asp#pdf) is supposed to be a "more realistic" How to be a Canadian booklet... we shall see. If anybody has read it, please share. I have attached a PDF version on this entry.



Going to bed now. More on the topic soon. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

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Jan 19 On the eve of my citizenship oath - Ottawa

I have watched two movies recently. Youth in Revolt - a Juno-like coming of age movie (It must be the Michael Cera style) and the Living Bones, somewhat cute, disturbing, Hollywood pretty with a good cast. Nothing earth shattering.

The restaurant: The Black Tomato, 11 George Street (Ottawa) in the Byward Market. Great location, good menu, abundant plates although relatively pricey.

Event: Daniel Ghur on Social Media and Canadian Education Marketing

Cultural remark: Russians look severe and may come across as rude, but they are quite friendly and efficient... if one follows their rules. This is a conclusion based on my Russian visa application submitted this morning.

My book of the day" as I get closer to having two nationalities, my choice is How to be a Canadian by the Ferguson Brothers Will + Ian. The book jokes about the concept of "Canadianness" and it is told with grace and asserted humour... from the weird spelling of words, to the use of "eh", to the neighbours of the South and the Canadian symbols. A funny essay for Canucks and non-Canadians alike.

As of tomorrow, God and the Queen willing, I should have two nationalities.


Tip of the day: take risks even if you have to apologyze for mistakes made. Share

Jan 18 Via Rail and the Fifth Business

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Jan 17 - Rideau Canal and The Kingdom of this World - Ottawa

My book of the day is The Kingdom of this World/El Reino de este Mundo, by Swiss/Cuban Alejo Carpentier. Alejo is not from Haiti but his story is. He actually grew up in Havana and took exile in France. This intellectual, influenced by European Surrealism, was one of the pioneers of Magic Realism in Latin America. The Kingdom of this World was published in Spanish in 1949 and it is about the history of Haiti before and after Haitian revolution against French colonizers. Carpentier uses the voice of slave Ti Noel to narrate the four chapters of this short novel, not exactly interrelated, but connected as a whole. In the face of disillusionment following independence, Haitians turned to their African traditions and rituals to give their lives meaning... History is an important legacy that can help us understand the present. El Reino de este mundo was published in English in 1957.



The Rideau Canal is Ottawa's waterway. Inaugurated in 1832, this UNESCO World Heritage Site connects the city of Kingston with Canada's Capital city. It is perfectly navigable during the late Spring, Summer and early Autumn... Once it freezes it becomes the longest skating rink in the world (7.8 K). I went skating on it today and it was awesome. You can see families, kids, visitors, volunteers flying over the smooth surface of the ice... mind the bumps though!

Tip of the day: When skating in the Canal (a MUST DO when you vist Ottawa in the Winter time), do not miss a great cup of hot chocolate and especially... our famous beavertales (more on this delicious pastry when I talk about Winterlude!

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Jan 16 A Leon de Greiff Feeling - Ottawa

It is a quiet Saturday in Ottawa. I've been listening to Juanes all day. Leon de Greiff, Colombian poet, visited my mind this afternoon, and his voice called me from within... to recite his poem Relato de Sergio Stepansky. Leon de Greiff was born in Medellin, Colombia at the turn of the 20th century. His work has an invaluable legacy. I had to learn the Relato in the 8th grade for my Spanish class. Quite nervous about making a mistake when speaking, and not knowing where to place my hands, I decided to accompany it with a guitar arpeggio. It saved me and it helped me get the best grade I've ever been awarded, an 11 over 10. I visited Leon's marvelous poem again during my first year at University, and played it once more with the support of my guitar. Many years later, alone at this lonely hotel suite, I recited it again... in a different format.

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Jan 15 - Night and Standing by Haiti!!!

"When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we'll see
No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me"

Stand by me - Ben E. King

Que pronto cese la horrible noche en Haiti...

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Jan 14 A minute of silence for Haiti

"No words to say
No words to convey
This feeling inside I have for you

Deep in my heart
Safe from the guards
Of intellect and reason
Leaving me at a loss
For words to express my feelings"

Tracy Chapman: For You Share

Jan 13 – Haiti and the Pedagogy of the Oppressed - Ottawa

Redundant as it may sound; mirrors show a reflection of ourselves. The mirrored image often serves as the mental image we have of ourselves. Photography and video have come to play that same role. A friend has called me “brave” for recording myself on camera. Don’t we hate to see ourselves reflected? Our voices recorded? Our “bad angles” photographed? Mirrors and images of us can be “horrific” as they make us self-conscious… However, the best thing about them is that they are not really us (Rene Magritte’s “Ceci n'est pas une pipe" -"This is not a pipe"), they are just a reflection… and reflections can be deceiving, certainly subjective, altered by external components like the mirror itself and the influence of light. But also by internal elements such us our minds, our eyes, our senses. Descartes dedicated part of his life to theorize about the unreliable effect of our senses and the unpredictability of perception.



On today’s video, I play with my reflection, altered by the effect of mirrors. What we see is something similar to what it was, but never the act per se. Paulo Freire, questioned the role of traditional pedagogies and called them “banking education”, information that is not neutral, that serves a system of thought, a moment in time, and that is often deposited in our brains like we deposit cheques in the bank. We call ourselves skeptical these days, but we are not sure of what… paying attention to the way we do things, trying to understand how we see, how we look at things, how we analyze and draw conclusions… is a good path to awareness. And awareness is what we need in order to discern our times and what we are accountable for… now and tomorrow.

Catastrophe is defined online as “a momentous tragic event ranging from extreme misfortune to utter overthrow or ruin”. Catastrophes alter our sensitivity and awake a sense of solidarity. We get in the mood to help, to change, to pray… but we soon get bored, tired, we forget, we move on. Catastrophes can be like mirrors, reflections of a horrific moment in time… but not the real image, not the embodiment of the course of history (the before and after the event). If we could only dig deeper and unearth what lies beneath?

Thought of the day: Haiti has been perceived as the “cinderella” of the Americas, impoverished and caged in its own misfortune… but the beauty of its people, of its nature, of its history, combined with the strength of its roots can change the course of history…and soon shine. I believe I’ll see it in my lifetime.

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Jan 12 – Earthquake in Haiti and the Life of Pi – Ottawa

The force of nature is like death, unknown and absolute. Death is like a thief that comes in the night, unannounced, and so are earthquakes. I have experienced a few of them in my life, the last one in Tokyo, Japan in 2008. Colombia, located in the Pacific rim of fire, is prone to tremors. Growing up, I woke up to several of them. The strongest one of my era occurred during Easter Thursday 1983 in Popayan, capital city of the state of Cauca in southwestern Colombia. On January 25, 1999, at about 13:00, an earthquake measuring 6,4 on the Richter scale destroyed the city of Armenia, in the central coffee region. We felt it very strongly in my hometown of Cali, a 4 hour car ride away. That afternoon I flew down the Buga-Tulua highway towards the epicentre, with food, water and blankets. I did not think much about it. That evening I stayed with a friend’s family and shared the event with thankful survivors. The city was destroyed, dark, cold, still in shock. It was hard to move through the debris… but of course one doesn’t think about more dangers when a huge catastrophe such as this one has hit a community… what can be worse?

A 7 degree earthquake just hit the already depressed half-island of Haiti today. My thoughts are with the Haitians. Bravery and strength, support and determination are necessary to rebuild Port-Au-Prince and the morale that has fallen with this tragedy.

I can’t think of a tip of the day. Share

Jan 11 – For the lack on an entry permit – Ottawa

On Friday I was told I would soon become a Canadian citizen. Today I got a phone call telling me that I do not qualify for a visa to Kenya. One welcoming message and one not so… I am glad I am not basing my self-esteem on visa policies; otherwise I would be in a mental health recovery clinic right now. My first visa rejection came at age 8 when my aunt and uncle wanted to take me to Disney World. It was all overcome at age 12 when I was able to meet Mickey Mouse with a group of other Colombian kids my age. My next big hiccup came in 2000 when my Opera Prima was released in Spain and I traveled from New York City to Madrid via Lisbon. The travel agent reassured me it was just a transit. For the Europeans it was a port of entry and I soon faced deportation. “I just want to get to Spain” I kept repeating “I have no interest in Portugal”. Well, their best solution was to send me to Switzerland, to enter Madrid through Zurich, a non- European Union city. I was late but I made it. And I liked Spain so much that I went back to live in there soon after. One fine day my friend E and I decided to visit the City of Light. We bought coach train seats to Paris and prepared ourselves to sleep. Everything went well until we crossed the border with France. Soon after we were waken up abruptly and escorted out of the train, through our sleepy shame. They asked us for the names of “Mon Pere et Ma Mere” (still don’t know why) and then drove over to Spain, where they just “welcomed us back” and asked us to leave the station and find our ways. Two in the morning, cold late spring in northern Spain… San Sebastian was a closed city that could hardly greet us. The only place to stay away from the winds of humiliation, a phone booth.

My very last two bitter entry experiences happened in the Tanzanian border last summer and in Seoul, South Korea this past November. One was more negative than the other. But I won’t tell it all, because it’s time for bed and the Kenyan chapter is not yet finalized.

My book of the day, the Bell Jar should be followed by the movie, Sylvia. Gwyneth Paltrow incarnates this American confessional poet of "undeniable" talent.

Tip of the day: visa denials are not personal rejections but glitches in foreign policy standards.

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Jan 10 - The Move - Minto Suite Hotel - Ottawa

At some point we need to move. Sort through our stuff, get rid of stuff, pack it and take it away. Today was moving day. From my condo to a hotel suite in DT Ottawa. Reason: hmmm... A toilet seal broke in my bathroom, water leaked through the plywood, the wood got rotten and all of a sudden, one fine day, linoleum tiles and the hardwood floor in our room bumped up... result: we not only had to fix the plumbing issues but we needed to have our floors re-sanded, because when new wood comes in, it is impossible to match the colour unless you do the whole floor again. I live in a loft, and the floor is connected from room to room. I'll be out of my place for two weeks. It's a bummer but it almost feels like a vacation. I don't mind hotels, and although this one looks quite "classic" (let's say), it is ok... I have decided that I like its laundry room and its solarium: facing west towards the War Museum and the Ottawa river.

I am planning on taking the bus to work tomorrow... well, I should say later on this morning as it is almost 1 am right now. It will be interesting. OC Transpo 95. That will allow me to read, if I get to sit down. There is a book I want to start in preparation for my Africa trip.

Tip of the Day: Squeeze in some exercise on busy days, it always helps your body recover faster from the demands on your time and energy.

My book: the ABC of Art - My last minute Restaurant: Shawarma King, Bank Street Ottawa... a life savior. Today I've been in the mood to listen to Caetano Veloso, beautiful voice from Bahia, Brazil. One of my favourite scenes in Almodovar's Hable con Ella (Talk to Her) is the scene where Veloso sings Cucurrucucu Paloma. A classic. His music has also been featured in another movie favourite, Frida.

Here it is Caetano Veloso a la Almodovar!
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Jan 9 – The Word of the Decade – Ottawa

Morning coffee in hand, and sunlight shining through the stained-glass fortress on my window, The Ottawa Citizen tells me that the word of the decade is “GOOGLE”. Wikipedia states that the name "Google" originated from a misspelling of the word "googol", some kind of a numerical formula followed by a whole bunch of zeros. The verb "to google" was added to the Merriam Webster and the Oxford English Dictionaries in 2006 and it means "to use the Google search engine to obtain information on the Internet”… don’t we often say: “Google it?” I registered my first email with hotmail over a decade ago when I was still living in Colombia and working for a small NGO where we had dial-up Internet. It is amazing how the Internet has changed our lives. Growing up, when I had to answer difficult homework questions, my “modern” tool was the phone. Once my personal encyclopedia and the Larousse dictionary failed to provide me with the answer I was looking for, my grandma had to call her friends to ask their kids if they knew what the “light blue stripe” meant of the flag of my province, or how many children had Columbus had. It often worked… those were the earliest stages of “social media”.

I was reading in an article the other day that in times of Francis Bacon, “knowledge” was power. Some researchers think that it is no longer the case as we can have access to anything we need to learn. “Knowing” things is not as valid anymore because one can easily “google” meanings and find almost any if not all answer(s).

Chosen movie: Tom ford’s A Single Man. Book: Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka.

Tip of the day: when you have some time, google the expression “knowledge is power” and share what you find.

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Jan 8– The Citizenship Oath – Ottawa

I wanted to be transparent, go back in time and record dreams. One could do so many good (and bad) things with these powers. I still believe a machine will be able to record dreams at some point in time. Filmmakers could eventually produce their own movies by plugging in their brains into a computer. Nevertheless, we would also need to train our cerebral nerves to control those dreams… and that’s a different story. My friend N says she was able to control her dreams in the past, not anymore. I didn’t ask her how, but I found it interesting. What I am writing is actually inspired by an MSN chat we had right before I started this posting. I was telling her how I got my invitation to take the Canadian citizenship oath in less than 12 days… exciting… and then we got into dreams!
What does it mean to be a Canadian? That’s a tough question that transcends maple syrup, maple leaves, hockey, curling, beaver tails and polar bears. It is not only about Celine or Shania, Atwood or Burton, Rogers or Loblaw, the Barenaked Ladies or the Group of Seven, Macdonald, Pearson, Campbell or Trudeau… it is not about the weather or the vast extension of the land (from sea to sea to sea)… it is about the people… Canada is a true mosaic of entangled talent… of survivors and negotiators, adventurers and thinkers, low key, laid back, low profile, ethical, cold friendly… but, above all, diverse. Canadian population is complex. Faced with the need to populate the land, the nation has embraced millions of new immigrants. Once an Aboriginal land, the French and the British settled in and formed, with all its difficulties a bi-cultural society where assimilation was imposed. But it moved on, and reviewed its books, and rethought its course, and opted for multiculturalism, pluralism, inclusion. Today’s Canada is Aboriginal, bilingual and multifaceted. Can it be better? Of course… but I have not been to other place on earth, where differences are cherished and embraced with such humbleness like in this beautiful land. Yes, I am proud of becoming a Canuck… and to wave the red maple leaf alongside the Colombian tri-colour. I was and have always been a Colombian… but I am and will always be a Canadian from now on… long live the Queen, eh! Share

Jan 7 - Theory of mile dependency - Ottawa

My taste for traveling may be due to a geographic tongue. I didn’t ask for it. I came with it. That’s what my dental hygienist said tonight during my regular teeth cleaning session: “Did you know you had a geographic tongue?”. Apparently, it runs in families and the cause is unknown. I also have a sore arm for a non natural cause. My travel doctor shot me twice this afternoon for tetanus and meningitis. That’s what traveling does to me. I am not only genetically predisposed to it but also addicted in the kinkiest of ways to the extent of becoming a pain-seeking masochist. The idea of vaccination is to obviously immunize me from greater threats, but one has to like it, I must admit.

I am a nomad. Tracy Chapman sings it beautifully in “I used to be a sailor”: I don`t like being stationary, she says, I like the rocky wavy motions of the sea… By definition, nomads cannot stay in one place. I may be a pastoral nomad, often looking for better pastures. But the industrialized era has made us sedentary and war has forced people away from their land, often again their will. Being a nomad becomes a spiritual metaphor, a desire more than a fact. I like to move trying not to become an island, not to park my boat, not to get used to my padded walls.

Jean Barman is a Canadian Historian from British Columbia and my chosen author of the day. Her book is the first non-fiction one I have recommended since the start of the year. Stanley Park’s secret is an eye opener, the bones and flesh underneath the perfectly mowed pastures of a graveyard. Every big family has a best-kept secret. The city of Vancouver has its own, and it lies along one of the most beautiful evergreen parks in the world.

Tip of the day: walk, jog, bike, skate along the 22 k (13.7 miles) of Stanley Park’s seawall… It’s amazing!

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Jan 6 Orthodox Christmas Eve – Reyes – Ottawa

It is believed that three wise men brought frankincense, a form of incense, myrrh and gold to this nativity scene. Charged with symbolism, these gifts have remained part of an old tradition. Interestingly enough, these types of elements are found in Yemen, at the moment “demonized” by our Western societies. The Magi or three kings are celebrated in some parts of the Catholic Christians today as the Orthodox Christians commemorate Christmas Eve.
As the day fades, I fade along… and I want to end this short note with my book of the day, referenced on my video. Nobel Prize Laureate Ivo Andric tells us a story about the construction of this ambitious project over the river Drina in Yugoslavia… and how the town of Visegrad celebrated differences with humbleness and overcame obstacles with bravery… coexisting with the realities of its time and “bridging” heavy pieces while embracing life. A jewel!
Tip of the day: Airport body scanners are a political move to look good to the public, there’s very little they can do. Share

Jan 5 From Cosco to Vincent Lam - Ottawa

Warehouse/wholesale stores lack personality. They shine in the glitter of massive packaging designed to make you spend more with the promise of helping you “save in the end”. For lack of a better plan, I ended up in Cosco tonight aiming to buy their triangular multi-grain bread, a bag of almonds, peanut butter and maple syrup. The list grew as I walked down the bursting aisles… razor blades, limes and detergent appeared “magically” in my shopping cart… it was too late to have some “passport-size” photos taken upon departure… $6.99 for four… a great deal. It’s almost double at Shoppers Drugmart.

Recipe of the night, Lima bean salad.

Ingredients:
A bag of frozen Lima beans (rinsed and dried)
5 chopped cloves of garlic
Powder chili peppers
Cilantro to taste
Half a lemon
A cup of black olives
½ a cup of Olive oil
200 g of Bocconcini

Mix them in that order and enjoy!

My chosen book: Bloodletting & Miraculous Cures by Canadian Emergency Physician/Writer Vincent Lam.

Tip of the day: If you get a negative comment about a particular behaviour of yours, don’t over-react… make the necessary adjustments if feasible… and shine through the darkest clouds… that’s where the clearest water drops come from!

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Jan 4 - Ghana High Commission – Ottawa

I read on a few Facebook status entries today that” it was hard to go back to reality”… and reality in that context meant: getting up early to return to work. Reality may suck but every day is reality. The truth is that we have to get up in the morning no matter what… even if it is to face unemployment, to care for one’s children or to enjoy a longer holiday. Getting up this morning wasn’t so bad… it felt almost like that first day of a new school year (I was even wearing a brand new sweater).

In the afternoon, I welcomed a pleasant surprise. I got my visa to Ghana from the High Commission! If all goes well, I should be in Accra in early February attending an educational fair promoted by the Canadian Trade Commission. I have to admit that I don’t know much about Ghana. From recent current affairs I know it is the homeland to former UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan and that it served as a stop point for President Obama during his first African tour. I could Wikipedia it for more tips but I’d rather discover facts on my own soon… those that can only be experienced in situ. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghana

Today’s book: Divisadero by Sri-Lankan/Canadian Michael Ondaatje. My chosen movie: Broken Embraces (“Abrazos Rotos”) by Spanish director and scriptwriter Pedro Almodóvar. I watched it in April 09 along with my friends P&B in Palma de Mallorca. That night we lost our only house keys. Did not find out until a few drinks later and upon driving for several km into Alaró where P&B live. One thing was clear, their windows are theft-prove. Back in Palma and overflowing frustration, we ended up spending the night at the house of P’s mom. But happy endings happen and ours took place at lunch time the next day when the administrators of the movie theatre confirmed the janitor had found our beloved keychain. Lost & Found stories are way more fun when the latter precedes the loss. Despite its drama, Broken Embraces also leaves a happy scent in the air… a la Almodóvar: filled with colour, irony and dark humour (Stephanie Meyer could gather some ideas from Harry and Diego’s vampire story: Dona Sangre/Give Blood). It was inspiring to watch it once more, this time at the Bytowne theatre … Ottawa’s pride and only alternative cinema (http://www.bytowne.ca)/...

Tip of the day: If you like Almodóvar’s work, you can rent Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown and compare it to Broken Embraces. If you do, please let me know what the key is to a great Gazpacho!

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Jan 3 Home - Ottawa - Canada

The holidays are over and it is time to set the mind for work. I am enjoying this experience of blogging as I review my day. I know there are going to be busy days when I will have no time to shoot a video or to write... I hope to have the discipline to catch up. This will make more sense at the end of the year when I can look back.

I had my annual physical today. Results are great. Blood pressure: 121/78 almost ideal. It’s snowed on and off in Ottawa and the roads are slushy. I had leftovers for lunch but decided to cook for dinner. Saša barbequed some pork shops while I baked my second-ever gužvara.

Ingredients:
350 g Feta Cheese
350 g Philadelphia
4 eggs
A glass of Club Soda
½ glass of grape seed oil
The rest is a family secret.

TV series of the moment: Brothers & Sisters (3rd season). My chosen author Portuguese Nobel Laureate Jose Saramago and my fauvorite of his, The Cave.

Tip of the Day: Get a physical!
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Jan 2 Chateau Frontenac – Quebec City – Canada

La Ville de Québec was founded in 1608. It recently celebrated 400 years of existence and resistance. This walled city, one of the oldest European settlements in North America has remained a symbol and a beacon for French Canada. The Château Frontenac is an imposing hotel within the old city overlooking the Saint Laurence river, la Citadelle and the famous plains of Abraham where the British army lead by General Wolfe fought French General Montcalm (neither one lived to tell about it). The Château, ‘the castle’, was inaugurated in 1893 as another stop point along the Canadian Pacific railway.
As I shop at Simons along rue Saint Jean, under a constant fall of snowflakes, I remember meeting 'Bonhomme' during my first and only winter Carnival in 2004 at -35 degrees (http://www.carnaval.qc.ca/2010/fr) . 'Le Carnaval' is a freezing excuse to visit Quebec in the winter time.

I love this city for its preserved history, for its surprising jewels, for the randomness of its curvy streets. It's got style, it tells stories. One can easily entertain in ghost tales, war stories, and narrations of heroes and princesses along with political disagreements, younger revolutions and the contemporary evolution of the French language. The past smoothly meets the present while the youngsters sunbathe on the edges of the fortified city walls and the horse carriages tour visitors right behind an electric bus. In every season, this UNESCO World Heritage site is worth a visit.

Tip of the day: I recommend the “3 Quick & Easy Walking Tours of Old Quebec” guide. Each of the three tours starts at the Samuel de Champlain monument. You can request the guide at the Maison Historique James Thompson (47, Rue St. Ursule). Greg, the owner, is very nice!
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Jan 1 Auberge Saint Antoine – Quebec City – Canada

The Saint Antoine (my patron) is the kind of hotel that gives you decoration ideas. Excellent use of space. Its theme: archeological findings. The auberge has exposed foundations as well as these neat glass cubes within the stone walls displaying “recovered artifacts”. I bid farewell to 2009 with a 6-course meal at Panage (chef executif Francois Blais)… Saint-Sylvestre menu: Duck Foi Gras with Pear and Almond (Vin Gris semi-sweet L'Orfailleur, Canada 2006); Atlantic Scallop with New Brunswick Caviar Mousseline Sauce (Villa Bucci wine, Italy, Reserve 2004); Liquorice Perfumed Veal, sweetbread with Rosemary Sauce and Lemon Pulp (Lithos la Clape, Fench wine, 2007); Nunavut Wild Caribou "En Panade de Cepes" with Porcini Mushroom Mustard Sauce (Ernie Els Wine, Elizabeth Els Vineyard, South Africa, 2004); Organic Blue Cheese "Le Bleu D'Elizabeth" with Candid fruit (In Pincis Wine, Agricola San Felice, Italy 1997); Chocolate, Cigar and Rhum (Ron Santa Teresa).

And before I could start the countdown (distracted by those 5 glasses of wine and a shot of Venezuelan rhum), the New Year was upon me. Personal resolutions: can’t think of all but I’d like to cook more and exercise the art of eating slowly. In addition to my gourmet ambitions I’d like to attempt a photo-video project that involves this blog. My job as an international marketer and recruiter for Algonquin College in Ottawa requires much traveling. I constantly meet prospective college students from around the world and try to lure them to Canada. As I visit all these places, and meet interesting people, taste local foods, I plan to record my personal impressions. A year in snap shots. I aim to quote local authors and explorers who have written about those places while I add my notes as the voice of a curious onlooker. In a previous life, or in the core of my alter ego, I was or have been a writer… my blog shall serve as the window to my personal take on our intriguing world.

Today’s author is Quebec City born Claire Montreuil (1914), popularly known as Claire Martin. Martin is a winner of the Governor General’s award in 1966 with La Joue Droite ('The right Cheek'). Her autobiography "In an Iron Glove" (Dans un Gant de Fer) narrates her nightmerish experience at the Ursulines Convent in QC.

Tip of the day: Quebec City, La Ville de Quebec is a place one must see in this lifetime.
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