Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Snowy, Spotless, American-ish Stockholm

I'm in the last stretch of my European adventure and I'm bringing in the New Year in Stockholm with my friend Ann. As background, I met Ann four years ago when I traveled solo to Ghana (you can find more about her on this blog in my posts about Ghana from 2010).

Upon arrival, I'm immediately met by the slushy cold white stuff...SNOW! Of course Ann had been updating me on the weather daily so I was prepared. If you know me, you know I have a weird love/hate relationship with Old Man Winter from my years living in the Northeast. I hate it but, alas, I tolerate it well. And if I'm honest, it could be colder.

So I grab my luggage, head to the bus that will take me to the center of Stockholm and I'm off. On the way in, I take notice of how many American things we pass. McDonald's seemingly every few miles, Burger King, 7-11, Starbucks, big shopping plazas (and according to Ann, KFC and Taco Bell will be coming to Stockholm soon). I was surprised at how familiar everything seemed. I wouldn't have necessarily realized I was in a different country were it not for the road signs in Swedish, road markers in kilometers and the weather readings that said -6 degrees Celsius. That and it gets dark around 3 pm. Like street lights on dark.

When I arrived at the bus station, I nearly run into Ann and her friend Anki as I look for a restroom. Ann hadn't seen me in years and, since I've lost quite a bit of weight, she didn't immediately recognize me. So we hug and rush off to the restroom. This is the first Swedish experience of the trip. We had to pay 10 crowns (about two cents) to even enter. WTF?! Thank God Ann was with me or else I'd have just jumped the turnstile or pissed myself. I will never take public restrooms for granted again!

So Ann had mentioned that we would just take the underground train to her house. I wasn't really looking forward to it because dragging luggage up and down stairs is no bueno. Well folks, you've literally never seen a metro this clean, convenient and easy. There are working escalators, cool elevators, not a speck of trash in site, wide entrances and plenty of room on the train. It really is the newest and cleanest system I've ever been on. 

Ann lives super close to the metro, so we grab pizza, a few items from the store for breakfast (I was surprised how many American items they have in the grocery store) and head to her place - a charming condo with views for days and such a homey feel. I eat tuna on pizza, which is big in Europe and was treated to a traditional Swedish holiday drink called Glogg that reminds me of Sangria. Both were excellent. After eating and watching TV, which is mostly American programming with Swedish subtitles, I immediately dozed off. 

Since there's only about 5 or 6 hours of daylight, we head out the next day to see a bit of Stockholm. In some ways, it really is just like the U.S. with H&M, The Body Shop, restaurants and other stores lining the streets, ManPower and Coca-Cola signs adorning office buildings. 

Old Town, which is the most historic part, felt more unique with it's narrow cobblestone streets, centuries old buildings, arches, adornments and the beautiful castle where the King and Queen live. We find a quaint restaurant for lunch and like clockwork, it's pitch black at 3 p.m. 

We head back home where we talk until midnight. Good stuff, lots of awesomeness for the next blog post. And excitement because Ann put together a party at her place with her friends in my honor to bring in the New Year.

Stay tuned!



Snow Thank You Stockholm!




Ann and I heading out to explore Stockholm on the cleanest metro on earth! 


The Royal Castle

The Church where the King and Queen were married

Beautiful Old Town


View of the new from Old Town (it was like 3 pm in this pic)


First meal out in Stockholm - a fried chicken penne pasta with pesto sauce!





















Sunday, December 28, 2014

When in Rome...

So it's been a few days since I've blogged. And admittedly I've been pretty much full, tipsy or sleepy since I arrived in Rome. There's one thing for certain and two things for sure about this city: you are going to eat and drink well here! When in Rome...well, you know the rest.

The one thing I haven't really done here is a lot of touristy sightseeing. I've never vacationed where I had friends and I've discovered it's a totally different experience. Having friends here means that I've had more of a local experience, the visit has been more ordinary, there's been no tour schedule to keep, I've met friends of friends and I have an open invitation to come back.

As I sit here in a sports bar in the middle of Rome talking music and sports with a cool bunch of folks from Pittsburgh, I'm reflecting back on my time here. The main takeaway is that it's an awesome city. The architecture is breathtaking. It's really sleepy at night, the food is good, the people are...just ok. All in all, I'm really blessed to have a good friend here because an experience that would have been great became amazing.

Of course I did the obligatory bus tour, but didn't really get off to visit any attractions but the Colliseum. It was pretty amazing. I saw the Vatican, Spanish Steps, Vittoriano, museums and several other places. Most of what I saw was how people around here live:
- People hit the streets rain or shine.
- Dogs are all the rage. I had to stop myself a million times from swiping a dog and adding it to my existing gaggle of pups. 
- Any designer store you want to see is here for the browsing (Dolce & Gabbana, Fendi, Pucci, Herve Leger, Hermes, Jimmy Choo). 
- Pizza is everywhere but it's not all made equal. But it's all better than the pizza in the U.S.
- There are not many black and brown faces here.
- Italians don't seem as excited when you attempt (and fail) at speaking their language. They snort, laugh and correct you.
- Every single building here is just a sight to behold. I mean really.
- Italians on TV are an almost accurate depiction of those in real life - loud, hand gesturing, passionate people with men who call you words like "treasure" and "flower" upon first meeting.
- I've never been kissed and hugged this much by people I don't know in my life...and I loved it!
- Some of the best food I've had in Italy came out of Tamara's kitchen...this girl can cook her ass off. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, veal, frittata, spaghetti..DELICIOUS! 
- The street artists are top notch and so talented. 
- The best street vendors are the ones from Bangladesh. They negotiate hard but at the end of the day, they want to sell, sell, sell!

I will definitely be back Rome and perhaps next time I might make it to the Vatican...or just eat and drink again and connect and talk again. Either way, all these experiences are as Roman as the other. And that kinda works for me.



The Vatican

Me in front of the Colliseum


I was trying to be artsy with this picture...FAILED!


Vittoriano

Spanish Steps 





Friday, December 26, 2014

Through a Child's Eyes

Today, I was treated to something I hadn't experienced in a very long time: spending Christmas morning with a child. And it reminded me of what an absolutely beautiful experience it is. If my memory serves me correctly, I haven't spent Christmas with children since my nephews and nieces were very small (likely more than a decade ago). 

What I discovered today is that I had become somewhat of a Scrooge in those years since experiencing that wide-eyed amazement and excitement that happens around Christmas trees around the world on this day. I'd grown to see Christmas as a spending extravaganza, a ploy by marketers to get more money and a holiday only for people with significant others and children. I was reminded today that when a child believes in the magic of Christmas and Santa, it is truly something to behold.

This morning, Tamara's five-year old son awoke to some pretty awesome presents under the tree from Santa and others. But if I rewind, the fun for me actually started last night when it was time to set out brownies and milk for Santa, along with a handwritten note from to remind the big guy of the thing he wanted the most. 

After her son had gone to sleep, we all pulled out the big presents, put the brownies in the fridge making sure to leave a few crumbs in the bowl, poured out the milk and had "Santa" write a response to his note.

This morning, his reaction to all the really cool toys was so touching it brought water to my eyes. While I'm not likely going to ever be "big" on Christmas and will still choose it as a time to vacation and give to the less fortunate, this morning was an awesome reminder that sometimes just believing in the unknown, unseen and mystical elements of life can give us rewards that will leave us awe struck. And that it is possible to get the desires of our hearts if we just ask and believe. Children's faith in and gratitude to the unseen is something to be modeled. 

So thanks to her son for unknowingly touching my heart and for teaching me a lesson in faith that I'd perhaps forgotten a million Christmases ago.

P.S. We went to dinner today and I wore the coat that my sister made for me. Here's a pic...killed it! 


Wednesday, December 24, 2014

A Little R&R in Roma

This time of year always brings reflection and offers me an opportunity to reset (or a little spiritual R&R). Perhaps it's the reason why I vacation or at least take time off work during the holidays. I'm not much of a resolution maker in the traditional sense, but I do love to look back on the year in hopes of planting seeds for what I want to come to fruition in my life. 

Today in Roma, as I traveled on the train with my friend Tam to and from the small town of Spoleto, I had plenty of time to reflect and reset a few things. Here are some reflections, revelations and areas to reset based on my own inventory process, conversations and observations:

- I want to strive to live my life as a victor, even when I might not fully believe I've won the battle and can't see the finish line. When we've already won something, the way we approach the situation or let it affect us changes.

- Everyone's going through something. And every now and then, you have to let someone pick a fight with you knowing that letting them win is more important to their spiritual survival than losing will impact yours. I pray for the discernment to know when to fight to win or take a loss. 

- Sometimes taking inventory of your spiritual growth is easier if you look back instead of forward. I was talking to Tam today about how we've grown in certain situations and it just seems too hard to see the progress by continuing to look at how much further in the journey we have to go. Felt much better to look in the rear view window and say, I'm not where I'm going, but I'm far from where I used to be. 

- You can choose peace. You can say "I love you, I forgive you, I release you" and that be your reality. Thanks for sharing that Tam. My hope is to be able to live that in many situations in my life.

- I want to continue to decipher between the voice of God and his plans for my life and my own desires. I'm a planner, for the most part. And I like to be led by the spirit. But sometimes, I have difficulty letting my spirit lead because it takes it's sweet little time on occasion. So I clearly need to help it along. Patience is an area I've grown in recent years, I hope to continue on that path. 

Seems like Roma is bringing out the philosopher in me (or is it the wine that Tam keeps pouring in my glass?) Eh well, I'm sure there's more to come.

Thanks for reading y'all, I really do appreciate it! 

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

The Beautiful Chaos of Roma

Upon entering Paris, I heard symphony music playing and instantly felt calm. Coming to Rome felt different. Crazy different. The energy here is fast, chaotic, a little wheely and a little dealy. Upon stepping out of the terminal, I was greeted with a crowd that felt like paparazzi. My shuttle driver from the airport was seriously going about 100 all while Anita Baker's "Sweet Love" was blaring from the radio. 

Traffic patterns don't exist, you better get in where you fit in. The streets are narrow and haphazardly re-routed around historical places like the Coliseum and the Spanish Steps. The roads almost seem like an afterthought or a necessary evil. A city built with people living there as an "oh snap, I knew I forgot something" moment. 

Entering the city, my first impression was "old." And then as we inched toward the city center, it turned into "charming" and then as we hit the center and I was dropped off, I landed at "wow!" Being here, I can imagine the Roman emperors co-existing with the hipsters of today. Great example, my friend Tamara stays in an apartment that dates back to the 1800s (or earlier), but she shares a building with a designer retail store with its Spring collection being put on display. In Roma, new coexists with old as if that's the way it's always been.

And speaking of Tamara. My little Italian-speaking, Afro-wearing writer-mama-badass friend, who, in the middle of the crazy, is a soft-spoken lump of calmness (and so is her mama Ms. Kathryn who's visiting for the holidays). Just to watch Tam step up to quietly give commands in Italian is interesting to watch as they're not usually expecting her to be fluent in the language. Her Italian is delivered in this sing songy tone that instantly soothes and charms the person she's talking to. I can tell she is immune to the chaos and isn't moved by the constant buzz. A good place to be or else one could be on constant edge here.

Today in Roma, I felt hugged. When I arrived, Tam had prepared a delicious lunch for me. And she's created such great relationships here that we're greeted with kisses on both cheeks and hugs at the restaurant where we eat dinner. The owner's children greet us all with kisses. And we get warm touches and greetings from the folks at the pizza place across the street. And we are not shooed away when peeking in the store's boxes left in the hallway of her building. Or the awesome Michael Jackson impersonator performing in the piazza at the end of Tam's street. And the other performers, vendors, hundreds of people, gathered for no reason really. Just outside enjoying the weather and life.

So Roma, you're old, fast, crazy and beautiful, what else you got in store for me? Can't wait! 


En route to Roma





People on the piazza 



This meal though! Eggplant and prosciutto stuffed veal chops compliments of the chef (a creation Tam and I were the Guinea pigs for)

My beautiful friend Tamara! 











Paris Wrap-Up: Kim's Top Ten Takeaways

10. This is indeed the most enchanting and architecturally beautiful city on earth. 



9. I now have a desire to trade in my SUV for a Fiat or a moped.




8. Tipping here is really not expected and genuinely appreciated (take note American servers, giving good service is your job, the tip is icing on the cake!) 




7. There are some beautiful people and children here...and then they open their mouths and French spills out...and they're that much more beautiful. 



6. The Parisians' adoption of hip hop makes me happy for artists like Kendrick Lamar who would have never imagined his voice reaching around the world. My Super Shuttle driver on the way to the airport (a young Moroccan) was rapping every word of Kendrick's songs. 



5. Every woman here was carrying an amazing handbag...like seriously!



4. It still surprises and tickles me when a black woman opens her mouth and French spills out. Or a cool b-boy thug looking dude has a soft French voice. 



3. Parisians aren't as mean as I'd heard. And they seem to appreciate when you try to speak some French.



2.  Smoking is still alive and well here...the message about lung cancer and those depressing commercials with the guy talking through his neck have clearly not made the rounds here. If you don't smell smoke, you ain't in Paris.    



Anddddd the #1 takeaway is..
Fries really are the natural companion to any meal! 



From Le Louvre to Le Hood

My last full day in Paris was one of...well, extremes. As the title suggests, I went to the Louvre. It also suggests I somehow found myself in an unseemly part of Paris. Here's the story. 

I started the day by strolling down my quaint little Rue Cler and having lunch at a cute little restaurant. Reason #676 why I'm moving to Paris is they have carbs and they're not afraid to serve them. I had mashed potatoes at this place that taste like mine. And if you've had my homemade mashed potatoes, you know, that is some yummy goodness. Afterwards, I strolled toward the metro where I ran into this little boutique and met some really wonderful people. The boutique was owned by Virginie with help from her Armenian dad Ara and Italian mom Cecile. They'd all lived in Paris forever, knew a million languages and loved Salt Lake City where they'd visited family. What's better, they had beautiful items in the boutique and were having a pre-Christmas promotion. So after spending 2 hours with them and learning of Virginy's deep love for Cocoa Pebbles, they told me to take the bus to the Louvre, gave me directions, two bus tickets, kisses on both cheeks, hugs and I was on my way. 

I was excited about taking the bus because it's an easy way to sight see while on the way. For those not familiar, the Louvre is a big beautiful art gallery where the Mona Lisa lives. And the bus was the perfect way to get there. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to go in but just wanted to see it. At the bus stop I got off on, I ran into the most unique and amazing bridge. It was literally covered with locks. Of all kinds, colors, shapes, sizes. Pad locks, combination locks, shaped like hearts and circles. All symbolizing a couple in love who had committed to be together forever or those just having a fling. After that, I head over to the Louvre. It's a huge huge huge museum, really beautiful and a sight to see. If it's that beautiful on the outside, I can't imagine going inside. Definitely next time.

By this point, I'm a bit tired after walking and the bus ride. But of course I'm supposed to hang out with my new friend Horphet after 5 when he gets off work. We didn't end up getting together until almost 9 when I met him at the metro in a part of town where he said we can get good African food (per my request). After getting off at this metro stop, I realize that cute neighborhood I went to that I thought was Little Africa was Little (well off, we've made it) Africa. This here, was the real deal. It's like the difference between Cedar Hill and South Dallas. Same color of people, different economics. 

So the first thing to jump the evening off right is that I'm solicited for sex...in French. I get off the Metro and as I'm waiting for Horphet, this little guy keeps giving me the eye. So of course, I'm thinking that he wants to jack me, so I cross the street. Then he crosses the street, still giving me suggestive eyes. So then he approaches me and starts talking in French. I tell him in French that I don't understand and he keeps talking. Eventually, he says something about company, so I tell him yes, Im here with a company. He asks can he be my company with hand signals and eye gestures. I'm like "Nooooo, I'm waiting for mon ami." At that time, Horphet comes across the street where I nearly jumped him and said "here comes my company now!" He look defeated and walked away. So as I tell Horphet the story, he tells me that the guy likely thought I was a prostitute. Dude, if this is what hookers look like in Paris, they even have classy hoes! Lolllll

Anywho, after I narrowly escaped picking up a John, H and I walk a ways through a not so fancy neighborhood with him being very protective to a hole in the wall place his friend owns that had some excellent Congolese food and awesome Congolese music videos playing. We had goat in a sauce that I wanted to marry. Experience is good, we share food, chat, him in his limited English, me in my limited French, with him agreeing to teach me French if I help him freshen up his English. He also promised to be my tour guide around Paris the next time I come. Fun! 

After leaving, we walked to the metro (on the way, we saw a few prostitutes, a crackhead couple arguing and a cop screaming at a man who had cocaine in his hands while his wife yelled back). He put me on my train, gave me kisses on each cheek, a tight hug and went off to his train.

Whew, that was a rush. Oddly enough, it felt harmless. Not scary at all. Perhaps there's only so dangerous a crackhead with a French accent can be?! I dunno. All I know is it made me love Paris even more! 

My buddy Virginie's shop...didn't get to take a pic until on the way to dinner with H!




Locks of Love


Entrance to the Louvre


Just 1/4th of the Louvre...massive!

Me at the L

Ummm, I want to eat this picture! There's some yummy tender goat chunks under those onions.

Horphet translating something I said...see the furrowed brow, I'd stumped him!






Sunday, December 21, 2014

Midnight in Paris

A few years ago, Woody Allen wrote and directed a movie called "Midnight in Paris." It starred Owen Wilson (he generally annoys me) who liked to walk around Paris at night and mystical things happened. I thought it was just ok, yet it won an Oscar, Golden Globe and other awards. Not until tonight did I truly get it. I think I owe Woody, Owen and the Academy an apology.

Tonight, after taking a quick nap, I got up around 9:30 to hit the streets to find food. Initially when I started out, I was just going to head up to Rue Cler to my little burger joint. But something in my spirit was saying "keep walking," "turn left here," "go one more block" until I ended up somewhere I'd never been. And am I glad I listened to my spirit.

Paris at night is, in one word, magical. I can't really put many more words to the experience because the sights and scenes are just breathtaking and left me speechless. The first amazing place I ran into was Les Invalides, essentially a museum of France's military history. There's something about the monuments here that just sneak up on you and you're left with your mouth wide open, then immediately moved to scream "Thank You God" to the heavens for the experience. Because, yeah, that happened about a million times tonight.

After snapping a million pics of that big ole beautiful thang, I was off to see what other majestic things I could find in the dark. I was drawn toward a blue light, so I kept walking. It was the dome of the Grand Palais Gallerie Nationale (an art gallery) and you wouldn't believe that people were ice skating inside. 

So my spirit, who is all about the peer pressure, tells me "You're already this far from home, why not a little further?" Well, a little further turned into me crossing the Seine River and seeing the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. Folks, I nearly lost my sh*t it was so beautiful (I told y'all that Eiffel just does something to me). 

Walked a little more and I'm on the Champs de Élysées with the Roue de Paris (big Ferris wheel) to my right. And wowwwwww! It's like the Texas State Fair but situated along both sides of a grand avenue. Crepes, churros, cotton candy, music, souvenirs, amusement rides for kids, just unbelievable. At this point, my stomach reminded me that we were on a dinner run, so I grabbed a sausson avec frites (sausage on a bun and fries) and kept stepping.

I could see the Arc de Triomphe in the distance, which is where the Champs de Élysées ends, so what the heck, right? I walk all the way up to it, on the way marveling at the beautifully lit and staged store fronts of some of the worlds largest fashion chains and designers (be jealous, I got to ogle at all the new Louis Vuitton bags coming out for the Spring)!

I finally make it to the Arc de Triomphe and now I know why it's called that. I sure did feel triumphant and alive and full of energy and light and happy and...just...wow! After taking a few selfies with the Arc and even a few snaps with an Iraqi family, I hailed a cab back to the hotel.

According to my walk tracker, I'm averaging about 4 miles of walking each day. Thanks Paris for being a good walking buddy. I think I will see where my spirit leads me tomorrow.

Bonsoir for now mes amies!

Les Invalides...you can't tell from this pic but it's gigantic! 

Look at Eiffel back there just a twinkling!

Grand Palais!

The Champs de Élysées behind me. Even on a Sunday night, it was packed and traffic backed up.

Arc de Triomphe, I'm coming for you boo! 

Just beautiful!

Made it!


Posing with Iraqi friends at the Arc!














A Lotta Love in Little Africa

Because I know a little bit about the history of Blacks in Paris, I scribbled on my "to see" list to visit where Blacks live in the city. After a bit of research, I found out about a part of town coined "Little Africa." My cabbie in NYC told me specifically to visit St. Denis where he has lots of family. Got it and done!

The plan for today was to visit an Afro-French restaurant in St. Denis called Monoko that I'd read a few reviews for and go to the Marche de Puces market for some shopping. So I trekked there on the train (after yesterday's trip to the movies, I've pretty much mastered the train system, tres facile). Oh and oddly, I ran into Victoria (woman from front desk of hotel) on the train today with her son. Small world!  

I find the place pretty easily and what happens next is more of the same amazingness that Paris has served up since I arrived. As soon as I walk in, I'm met with Nigerian music blaring and the loud bellowing of African men from a table of people. I instantly feel super warm. So I tell the woman a table for one and, as I'm being led to a table on the other side of the party, I'm met by one of the men, Marcel. He walks up to me and says something in French that ends with him telling me I'm beautiful (notice how I only understand compliments in French?!) So I thank him, tell him in French that I don't speak much of it and he says, "You speak English? Where you from?" So I tell him the U.S. and begin to sit down. He immediately says that I'm part of the family and that I should sit with them.Ok, I think, it sure beats sitting next to them pretending that I don't really want to be all in their business!

So I pull up a chair to a table with about 7 people already crowded around and am instantly poured a glass of champagne. Now y'all, this wasn't no discount champagne or no Asti Spumante. They were drinking Moët & Chandon and Veuve Clicquot. Next time you're at the store, try not falling over from a heart attack at those prices. Of course I totally know the prices and offer him money for my portion. "No, no, we are African, you are our guest and it is our honor! Now drink up, you only live once!"

Ok, if you insistttttt!

So as we get acquainted, I realize that Marcel, who owns a club in Paris and continues ordering bottles of champagne at $85 each, is one of a couple people there who speak English fluently. So between his translations between me and others and me catching every third word, I learn that most everyone is from the Ivory Coast (their native language is French), has been in Paris for upwards of 5 years and is all about having a good time and apparently does well for themselves. The other names were As (who liked me and was jealous that he couldn't speak English so I pulled out my translator app so we could chat back and forth), Adams from Milan, Yaya who lives in Paris but who I'm almost certain was partners with Adams judging from the way he was touching his leg and body language (for Africans that'sactually bold and awesome). Then we have Angel who owned the restaurant, Caroline who was wild and crazy and my good buddy Horphet who speaks English and who I married before the afternoon ended. Marcel ordered the most amazing tilapia for me and after about 10 minutes it was a plate of bones. Yummmmmmm!

After leaving there, Horphet, Caroline and I took a cab, they dropped me off at the market, warned me about pickpocketers and promised to hang out later. I was invited by Marcel to the club later but of course ended up exploring Paris so I didn't make it. I am hanging out with Horphet tomorrow when he gets off work, so I'm excited! Yayyyyyy!

It was amazing, nothing I could have dreamed of and completely touching. When I got on the train, I was expecting it to be a good day. In true Paris fashion, a good day turned great because of the people. 

My buddy Marcel

As, Adams, Yaya and Caroline (in the background)

Me and As

Me and Horphet

There's a delicious piece of tilapia under there! 


KILLING.IT!

When we were leaving the guy on the left asked for my hand in marriage. So Horphet had to defend my honor as his wife! LOL




A couple pics from the Marche du Puces market...so huge and overwhelming with anything you could ever want.