Call me chicken or call me wise, but you can also call me brave for fighting the winds and rain and fog of the Jersey Turnpike and 95 South and whatever other route I found myself on, as I fought the defroster and the endless trips through the same tunnel, trying to see road signs and exits. If it hadn’t been for the CD of presidential historian Doris Kearns Goodwin’s captivating book, Team of Rivals, I would never have retained my sanity. Or maybe that’s why I kept losing my way. Amtrak, here I come!
He is the first president in two decades to refuse to meet the Tibetan leader-in-exile. He has met countless other leaders of countries whose human rights violations are legendary (how about China for starters?). There’s enough unpleasant news out there to go around—from Afghanistan to Myanmar, from Iran to North Korea. And here was a chance to acknowledge a man who stands for non-violence, peace, and reconciliation in the world. How wrongheaded and sad it is that he has been denied meeting with our president for fear of antagonizing China. What happened to all the campaign rhetoric about human freedom? Who’s running the show? Political expediency? Money? So much for values.
I just saw Michael Moore’s latest film, Capitalism: A Love Story. What a blast! No matter where you stand in the economic spectrum, you’ll find some compelling stories along with humor and wit that will make you think. Don’t miss it. One of my favorite scenes is Michael talking to a Wall Street banker, who is explaining derivatives. Watch his face. It’s the face of most Americans as they try to understand what happened to our economy and work their way through the labyrinth of complicated financial-speak that brought this country to its knees.
For five weeks, a festival of Irish theater has been taking place all over town, from the Irish Repertory to the 59E59 Theater to the Players Loft Theater where last night I enjoyed Sean Gormly in Conor McPherson’s The Good Thief. It doesn’t get any better than Conor McPherson, who wowed New Yorkers with The Seafarer and The Weir, two of his most compelling plays. But this poetic and riveting one-man show about comic hard luck and lurid violence once more paints the Irish as a bit stupid (or should I say clueless), very drunk, and prone to senseless violence. This does not go over well in Ireland, as we all know, but it sure makes for good theater. And this tale had us on the edge of our seats as we listened to the story of a sociopath who seemed to have no idea of right or wrong or how to reclaim a life gone totally off the tracks. Made me feel boringly normal.
If you want a great pre-theater bowl of borscht, go up a flight of stairs to the Olive Tree Cafe at 117 McDougal Street around the corner from the Minetta Lane Theater and next door to the Player’s Loft. You can get it hot or cold, accompanied by a tub of sour cream and the best dark bread in town.
Several people have urged me to continue with my travel suggestions. As you know, I had to cancel my hoped-for climb in Nepal this Fall, so this will at least give the flavor of travel to my blog. I give such advice because I have made all the classic mistakes and even if you follow my lead, you will make other ones. Do share them with us. Some day we will all be perfect!
As I said in the last entry, take only half of what you first thought was absolutely necessary, and do not carry a load that makes you feel and look like a bedraggled donkey ready for retirement. Rule #2: Label all your bags with YOUR name, home address, and destination. You laugh. What dope wouldn’t do THAT? Well, my daughter (sorry Martha) didn’t on our trip to Tanzania last year, and she almost lost a very important duffel with climbing paraphernalia. It had to be delivered to the foot of Mt. Kilimanjaro! It was labeled all right, but with her son’s name. The airline totally overlooked it in its search. Also, keep a small book (I’m big on small looseleaf notebooks) with necessary addresses and statistics such as the size of bags and what they look like. When you lose something and are jet-lagging at your destination, it’s hard to remember what your name is, to say nothing of the color or configuration of your bags. Watch for the next 8 rules. And send me yours. There’s no limit.
My desire to see the world and live in other cultures was considered a little strange sixty years ago. Not so any more. It’s all the rage and I’m tickled pink. My unofficial granddaughter, an artist extraordinaire, Jenny Vitello, is landing, as I write, in Nairobi, Kenya, and will be spending the next ten months as a volunteer with Global Vision International. She will work in villages as well as do oceanic research. Her headquarters will be in Shimoni, Kenya…a stone’s throw from the Tanzanian border. In fact, on a clear day she can see Mt. Kilimanjaro! In the next months I may send on some tidbits about Jen’s work, but in the meantime, if you’re interested in the scope of the project check out their blog:
A couple of months ago Jen came to me for advice on what to take and what not to take. Having made two world backpacking trips and dozens of other assorted journeys and treks, I have the reputation for being brutal when it comes to packing. I wear my heavy climbing boots, one pair of thin, easy-dry hiking pants, a long-sleeved T-shirt and a polar fleece. You certainly won’t need the latter in equatorial Africa when you arrive (except at night), but have you ever tried to sleep on an airplane these days when there’s a shortage of blankets? This leaves a minimum of undergarments (two bras, two pair of panties, four pairs of socks, including two smart wool, a pair of shorts, a couple of T-shirts, one acting as a nightie, and a minimum—absolute minimum!—of toiletries. You can buy extras of any of these things, which you probably will enjoy as mementos on your return).
Of course there will be a huge list from the leaders of any travel enterprise but the one thing I always stress is: DO NOT LOAD YOURSELF DOWN!! No matter how beautiful you may be, very seldom do you find a handsome man willing to cart your stuff for you. Chivalry is not dead, but it is on the wane big time. I stopped carrying my house on my back about twelve years ago when I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in a plate glass window in a tiny town in Tasmania. I was almost bent double from an overloaded pack and I had a small duffel in one hand and a huge camera case in the other. You’re out of your mind, I said to myself, and that’s when I came up with travel rule #1: Put everything you think you must take on your bed, look at it for a long time, and take half.
Jenny will do just fine. She’s smart and she’s incredibly organized. But she will have to learn the hard way that carrying eight tubes of sunscreen and a barrel of Deet, even if you are blonde and fair-skinned, is a little over the top. I told her that she should have bought the edible kind, so she could feed it to the fish rather than carry it back home. But, hey, she’s prone to mosquito bites, hates the thought of malaria, and sunburns like a slice of bacon. So who am I to judge? Good luck, fair damsel.
This was the first opera I saw on my honeymoon in Paris in 1950 and it just gets better and better. I also prefer the original German to French. This new production featured the amazing puppets, costuming, and special effects of Lion King’s Julie Taymor. The humor, the acting, and the singing were perfect, especially Christopher Maltman as Papageno and Erika Miklosa as the Queen of the Night. Big thanks to my niece, Margaret Magill, a violinist with the Met orchestra, who was able to get me tickets for the opening night.
This was also the first time I had seen the new fountain at Lincoln Center. The night couldn’t have been more beautiful—a warm, balmy, sit-outside-in-a-café sort of evening on the cusp of autumn. The whole area is one that those of you who visit the Big Apple must not miss.
Waves crashing into the breakwater
…And now I can put the summer to rest. There is a magnetic pull exerted by this vast, untamed lake and the “Noble Cottage,” our family haven for over fifty years, so when I find a few days of Indian Summer I cannot resist one last visit. Well, the days were warm and sunny last week, but the nights were anything but! Try thirty degrees. I made a quick trip to the Franconia Range for a visit with Anne and Frank Magill, my wonderful sister and brother-in-law, who were celebrating 57 years of marriage, before returning to a three-day-blow on the lake, with ocean-sized waves and water to rival the North Atlantic in winter. No matter. Swimming is what I wanted to do, and I got my fill.
Just before sunset…
I always love to watch the movement of the sunset from its place directly in front of the cottage in June to its new position way over to the left of our dock in September. And there is a light just before it sets that speaks to me in tones of white and yellow, the mysterious light of impending winter.
Now the day is over…
After three glorious weeks in New Hampshire and three more in the Northwest (Seattle, Whidbey Island, and the Northern Cascade Mountains), I returned to the reality that I had more to deal with than the hundreds of backed-up emails (Will I never learn to post that vacation message?). A new year beginning (I always think of September as the new year, since that is when the kids returned to school after the summer), several book ideas fighting for dominance, and the sober facts of national and international conflict that have changed very little during my NYTimes hiatus. I loved being away, but now it’s back to work . I began with a speech at the South Orange Rotary Club last Thursday, to a group of responsive business leaders, who responded with enthusiasm to my subject, “Traveling off the Beaten Path,” and showed great interest in the orphanage project in Zimbabwe I’ve written about in this blog. I also told them about the Tibetan Childrens’ Villages (TCV) I had visited and help support in India. Thank you, President Stacey Borden for the wonderful reception. Please write me if you want any more information about these two important projects. My grandson, Adam, has been working hard on a prospectus to help raise money for the orphanage, spurred on by the encouragement of Greg Mortenson, whom he met last spring.
I’ve been told to write my blog more often and keep it short! I get the message. I’ll be posting photos of my summer trips next week. In the meantime, let’s hear about your summer adventures!
Would you believe that a month ago we were drowning and now, in the middle of summer, we’re having the spring we never had? I’m beginning to think that we’re competing with Seattle to see who can have the strangest weather year. But who’s complaining? I’m glad for the cool breezes and mild sunshine. Overjoyed, in fact.
Speaking of Seattle, my daughter, Cary, is having a banner year creating, with the help of 160 volunteers, a gigantic garden on Whidbey Island, the Good Cheer Garden, which supplies the Food Bank with much-needed produce. Gardening is, once again, seen as an important part of our country’s economic life as well as a great social and community enterprise. And then, there are those delicious, healthy fresh vegetables! I recommend that you take a look at her website, www.goodcheergarden.wordpress.com This has become a major project in the life of South Whidbey, WA.
In June Mike Fenton, Autoharp player extraordinaire, and his lovely wife, Rachel, visited me from England on their way to the Mt. Laurel Autoharp Gathering. They surprised me by taking me to the fabulous Billy Elliot on Broadway. It is every bit as great a musical as the Tony Awards proclaimed, and a must-see for those visiting New York City.
Another great Autoharp player visited me this week. He’s the other Will Smith and hails from Nashville, TN. Here he is playing his new Tom Fladmark Autoharp, which he designed and fitted with the most beautiful and unusual chord combinations I have ever heard. I was enthralled by his playing and can’t wait to hear his latest album. 
My traveling and hiking have been greatly curtailed because of a stupid accident (are there any smart ones?) in which I tore the meniscus in my left knee. It wasn’t serious, but it needed repair. So at the end of June, during my recuperation from laparoscopic surgery, I spent a glorious week with my two sisters at our cottage on Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire. It was perfect…if you like rain. And the water temperature would have thrilled a polar bear. Not being polar bears, we waited for our meager three days of sunshine to brave the icy waves. Here are some pictures of the cottage at sunset.
Upon returning to Maplewood in July I was treated to a once-a-year rock concert extravaganza, Maplewoodstock, conceived and organized by my son-in-law, Gary Shippy. This two-day celebration of local and national bands is in its sixth year and draws an enormous crowd from Maplewood and South Orange. Families gather on the grassy hill near the railroad station to mingle, visit folk art booths, and delight in being with old friends. Children dance to the music and play on the lawn, while adults engage in an all-day picnic, which continues late into the night. This year we were treated to such headliners as Marshall Crenshaw and Jonathan Edwards. And the weather cooperated by holding the rain until the moment the last note was played. This is just another good reason to live in this friendly, alive community.
Tomorrow I leave for another three weeks at the Winnipesaukee cottage, where my family and friends will gather for swimming, kayaking, and hiking in the White Mountains. After that I head for the great northwest, Whidbey Island, and the northern Cascades. I shall write about these adventures next month. In the meantime, do look at my latest photos mentioned at the bottom of the home page in red ink. Like most people who use digital cameras, I’m way behind in my postings. There are just too many pictures. And who’s to blame for that? I’m afraid we’re all the same!
While in Seattle, I’m looking forward to seeing my friend, Beth Whitman, writer, most recently, of For Women Traveling in India, and a peripatetic traveler (www.WanderlustAndLipstick.com). I had also hoped to see Rita Golden Gelman (www.ritagoldengelman.com), whom I have admired since I read her book, Tales of a Female Nomad. She is a true nomad. I now discover that she won’t be there at the end of August, but urge you to look at her website and read about her new program, Let’s Get Global, for the “gap year and more” movement she has started. This is a program after my own heart, introducing young people to the joys of travel and of really getting to know other cultures.
I am always entranced by the awakening of the earth, which for so many months has lain dormant. Birds return to my holly trees, ferns turn bright green and spread, gracefully, along my back fence, and the carefully tended gardens in the neighborhood afford me color and delicate aromas as I take my morning walk up and down the hills of Maplewood. The azaleas have just passed and the rhododendron, with its plump round flowers, has arrived in various shades of purple. I am carried back to Lukla, when I returned from Everest Base Camp, and wandered through a forest of deep red rhododendron, so miraculous in their beauty after leaving the bitter cold of high altitude. I never take this abundant new life for granted.
Many of you travelers struggle with the same frustration I have in selecting and cataloguing the huge number of photographs produced by digital cameras. True, it’s our fault. We could just press delete. But we don’t. And then there is the desire to crop, tune, and retouch each scene to perfection (in my case the vast mountain panoramas and ancient living quarters) before moving them to albums that can be enjoyed by friends and family. And so, the saga of my efforts to upload photographs continues with incremental learning spurts that keep me ever-optimistic and eager to share. I hope many of you have seen the five albums I placed on facebook. For the refreshed links, look at my April 4th blog. I am now, however, putting new albums on my home page. I have put the photos of Myanmar and Dharamsala on hold and am starting in on Ladakh and Tanzania, my most recent trips. Consistency has never held me back, but I do ask your patience. I also would like your feedback on my newest photo galleries. The link is written in large red print at the bottom of my home page. Be sure to click on each photo to enlarge, and read the captions as the adventure unfolds. More are coming!
I go to New York City a great deal, sometimes with friends, and sometimes alone. The city never ceases to amaze and tickle me. When alone I could be walking up a street in Asia, listening to languages as diverse as the faces that accompany them, and enjoying the varied garb of a cultural potpourri. If I were in another country, I’d be putting down the names of the quaint stores along the way and recording the shouts of the vendors as they ply their trade…and the conversations overheard on cell phones or in the small groups that wander with me up Eighth Avenue from Penn Station to Midtown. I see the usual brand of tourist, gawking at high buildings that are commonplace to me, and, most recently, enjoying the people lounging in chairs on the new pedestrian mall in Times Square. It’s a scream! Not only can you sit on bleachers near the TKTS booth at 47th and Broadway and eat your lunch or just people-watch, but you can also lie on your webbed chair and breathe in the exhaust fumes from the traffic on Broadway, while looking at a most unappealing bunch of stores on either side of the street. No trees—just pavement all around, and tourists taking your picture. Does that sound a bit bizarre to you? Only in America!
I’ve played my fill of concerts for the year and attended some stirring performances at Carnegie and Avery Fisher Halls. Alice Tully Hall has been refurbished and all of Lincoln Center is getting a needed facelift for its 50th anniversary. Come see it, if only to enjoy spring at one of New York City’s most beautiful spots.
I don’t want to disappoint my theater-addicted friends, so I shall end with a list of some of the wonderful plays I’ve attended this past month. My friend, Barry Hamilton, artistic director of Ruth Eckherdt Hall in St. Petersburg and his lovely wife, Ruth Klukoff, a violin teacher, attended my granddaughter Cally’s graduation party, following her graduation, Phi Beta Kappa, from Rutgers. Barry took me to God of Carnage on Broadway, the best comedy I’ve seen since August: Osage County. It was the beginning of my birthday week celebration. Phyllis Bitow, another theater buddy took me to Next to Normal, a very thoughtful, unusual musical, starring Alice Ripley. Other shows worthy of mention are: the Pulitzer prize winning Ruined by Lynn Nottage, a heart-breaking story of the treatment of women in the Congo; Eugene O’Neill’s powerful Desire Under the Elms with Brian Dennehy; Groundswell, Off-Broadway, a moving post-apartheid story from South Africa with Larry Bryggman; Blithe Spirit by Noel Coward, starring the incomparable Angela Lansbury and Christine Ebersole; Accent on Youth, a rather disappointing comedy with David Hyde Pierce; Joe Turner’s Come and Gone by August Wilson, a deeply moving production of the black experience in the first decade of the twentieth century; Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett—a superb revival starring Nathan Lane, Bill Irwin, John Goodman, and John Glover; Why Torture is Wrong and the People Who Love It by Christopher Durang, at the Public Theater; and the screamingly funny trilogy from England, The Norman Conquests by Alan Ackbourn—Table Manners, Living Together, and Round and Round the Garden. Don’t miss all three if you get to town. I thank Play-by-Play and Audience Extras for my luck in getting inexpensive tickets for most of these productions.
I started hiking a little late this season, and on my first outing managed to get thoroughly lost wandering the hills of South Mountain Reservation. I’m not good at reading maps, but could sure have used one today! It’s so nice to spend a balmy, sunny afternoon in the woods after all the rain we’ve had. Think of it…in one month I’ll be in the White Mountains.
Please let me hear from you. I want to know what you’re doing, how you’re doing, and any adventures you want to share.
Bright and early Easter morning, my daughter, Martha, and I hopped into the car and headed for Syracuse, NY, to show her son, my youngest grandson, Adam, Syracuse University. We visited Henricks Chapel, showed Adam the Noble Room, named for my father, and visited the Dean’s office. Unfortunately, most of the buildings were closed, but we walked around, or were blown around the campus (it was cold and windy!), accompanied by the well-known artist, Scott Bennett (www.scottbennettart.com), and his daughter, Sarah. In the evening we arrived in Troy at the home of an Emma Willard classmate of mine, Nina Pattison, and spent a lovely night in her fabulous Victorian home not far from RPI and Russell Sage College. The next morning we were privileged to hear Greg Mortenson, author of Three Cups of Tea, speak to an audience filled with eager Emma Willard and RPI students and alumnae.
Many of you have read Greg’s book and are aware that his non-profit organization, Central Asia Institute, has already been instrumental in building 78 schools for children (mostly girls) in Pakistan and Afghanistan. His aim has been to build peace, one school at a time, thus breaking down barriers between cultures, and changing the world for the better. A lofty goal, which is being achieved by the hard work and dedication of thousands of people—people who are fed up with violence and know that a better future for their children starts with education.
This has not been an easy task, and is still fraught with danger in places mired in political upheaval, war, and poverty. But, Mortenson’s willingness to talk about things like hope, love, and compassion in a nonsectarian way is refreshing and appeals to people who are hungry for peace and nonviolent solutions to complex international problems. He has empowered these people to create their own solutions, giving them help along the way. I was especially moved when he said, “Don’t try to be like me. Listen to your heart. And when your heart speaks, take good notes. This will lead you in the direction of your own goals.”
Recently, Greg has talked with the military commanders who are in charge of the war in Asia and the Middle East. General Petraeus, who read his book, told Mortenson that it made him realize the importance of listening, of building relationships with the people and their communities, and of learning to respect and understand their culture. Greg’s book is now required reading for every person, from combat troops to government officials, who is deployed to Afghanistan. It says to me that our government and military are listening as well.
At the beginning of his remarks, Mortenson asked how many students talked to their grandparents, or an older relative, listened to their stories about growing up, and asked what traditions were treasured when they were young. He stressed the Importance of listening to your elders, learning from their experience, and, in turn, building a relationship that engendered respect between the generations.
Adam has been inspired by Greg’s work, especially the Pennies for Peace program started by his daughter. When Martha and I returned from Africa and told him about the Tamiha Orphanage we had visited in Tanzania, that is now caring for 100 orphans, Adam immediately started making plans to help the director, Crispen Mugarula, raise money for his new school. He put together a prospectus and handed it to Greg, who accepted it and told Adam to be in touch by email. During his presentation Greg had told the students to come up with their own projects to raise money for schools, and said that he is hoping for the establishment of an internet portal at which many organizations promoting peace through education can exchange ideas and find funding. His work is in Central Asia, but he encourages projects that lift up and educate people in all parts of the world, especially girls and women. As he said, “You educate a man, and you have one educated person. You educate a woman, and you educate a whole community.”
You may also know that Greg has been nominated for a Nobel Prize. I cannot imagine anyone who is doing more at this crucial time in history to promote peace through education than this man.
My theater report this month includes four excellent productions: Neil LaBute’s Reasons to Be Pretty; a revival of The Master Class; Michael Laurence in Krapp 39; and the amazing Janet McTeer in Mary Stuart.
