T H I S+W E E K

School trip!
On the road with 60 fifth-graders
By Don George, Editor

Tiger Leaping Gorge
By Simon Winchester
Greed menaces a Chinese treasure
-Books on China

D E P A R T M E N T S

The Surreal Gourmet
By Bob Blumer
An all-star meal for your sports-loving papa

Mondo Weirdo
Strange foods around the world

Postmark
Seattle:
The Liquid City
By Jenn Shreve

Passages:
"Trout Fisher's Almanac"
Trout-fishing:
The art of the unexpected

>Readers' Tips and Tales
The eruption of Paricutín

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Your virtual travel agency

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LA S T+W E E K

Tuesday, June 3

Cuba libre!
By Mark Schapiro
A hot art scene brings the world to Havana's door

A full list of all
Wanderlust articles

Deborah Miller | Above the Volcano -- Death and Diversion
07:30pm Jun 4, 1997 PST (#1 of 1)

i was 7 when Paricutin erupted. My family lived in a hotel in Mexico City at the time. My sister and I shared a room facing the street on the sixth floor and were awakened by slapping Venetian blinds, and our twin beds, normally on opposite walls, met in the middle of the room. We rushed to the window and watched as the dawn broke and cars careened along the avenues, totally out of control. The earthquake (which the papers said had no connection to the birth of the volcano) lasted 3 minutes, which seemed an eternity. A few months later we went on horseback, in the middle of the night, to the slopes of the volcano to see the flowing lava. You could only go so far, up to a shack which sold hot chocolate. My sister and I had been given serapes for warmth, and I remember shrinking under their weight, as we progressed up the side of the volcano, the heat upon our cheeks. A tongue-twister sprang up at the time. I wonder if any of your readers knew it ..... "El cura de Parangaricutirimicuaro, se quiere desenparangaricutirimicuarisar, el que lo desenparangaricutirimicuarise, sera un buen desenparangaricutirimicuarisador". It took me weeks to learn it, with a piece of paper under my pillow. I'd love to hear from anyone else who may have been there that day/year.

Andy Young | Travel to Cuba
01:48pm Jun 4, 1997 PST (#1 of 3)

i spent two and a half weeks in Cuba last Fall with my then boyfriend. I couldn't possibly recommend more highly the island as a place to spend some time. For starters, we flew from NYC to Nassau, Bahamas. It's not a recommendable place (to be nice), so make sure you can get the flight from Nassau to La Habana with out leaving the airport. I made the wrong assumption that there were flights between Nassau and Havana every day.

The total cost of our flights was a little less than $400--cash money up front for the $160 or so Nassau-Havana run. I had reserved seats on the Cubana flight through a travel agent in Nassau before we left. We had no visas or Treasury Department things, just US passports. Cuban immigration people stared at us for a little while and then gave us tourist cards, not stamping our passports. I think the tourist card was valid for three months, but can't remember for sure. On our way out, we handed over the tourist cards and enjoyed espressos while waiting for our flight.

When we left Nassau, unfortunately the next day, because of the aforementioned slip up, the US Immigration lady (that was strange, but it's got to be because the Bahamian government wants as little to do as I did with the hoards of US lobster people cruise ship-types) just waved us through, asking how our island idyll had been.

I got back just in time for winter in New York, and we haven't been visited by any tie-clip wearing customs wanks waving $200,000 bills in our faces. Although, I haven't spoken to my travelling partner in a while, so he might be in jail for all I know.

The food was really scarce, in our case, an exacerbation due to the hurricane in October. Havana is a great city; it reeks of history and seedy, dilapidated charm that I love, and am sad to see being swept out of New York. The countryside is startlingly beautiful. Our rented '59 Studebaker rocked. We were able to see the whole western part of the island in the time we had. But most importantly, the people we met were great. We had no trouble being little queer boys sleeping in the same bed anywhere. I would go back tomorrow, if my trade balance wasn't about the equal of Cuba's.

ian perlman | Fun Eating Experiences While Traveling
06:39pm Jun 2, 1997 PST (#31 of 31)

another 'new taste' story. Newly arrived in Japan, a potter friend was trying to explain an aesthetic term - 'shibui' which is hard to locate in English. Some dictionaries say 'astringent', but it's somewhere between rough, tart, 'masculine', unpolished, earthy, and pungent. It's used a lot, and it can be positive or negative. One famous Tokyo place has it in its name: Shibuya (Shibui Valley, apparently for the vinegar made there).

Anyway, potter was trying to clue me by comparing Sean Connery's James Bond (shibui) with Roger Moore's (not shibui), stuff like that. I'm a bit slow on this kind of thing but it was kind of sinking in. Then he had a better idea. Told me to shave my beard. Took me to a cheap Japanese beer hall, and ordered me a bowl of natto, fermented soy beans. We sniffed it, admired the ceramic bowl it was served in, topped with flakes of salty dried fish. Then he spinkled some shreds of nori (seaweed) over it, added a dab of mustard, poured a little warm soy sauce, and mixed it all around. The taste: deliciously shibui. We drank Ebisu beer and enjoyed natto for about an hour, talking pottery, art and James Bond. Good that I shaved. Natto, viscous, demands special skill for the bearded. The ritual of it was good, too.

Later I saw other foreigners being introduced to this excellent dish in a negative, sarcastic way. "You'll hate this", "Bet you can't eat this".

First experiences of foods, like sex, are soooooo important.

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