Book Fair On The Equator

September 1, 2008 - Babahoyo, Ecuador

When I heard that the Latin American Travel Writer's Book Fair would be held in Ecuador this year, I just had to go. This is a first for La Republica del Ecuador, and comes just months from the publication of my first novel. My good friend, Jaime Huerta, a renowned Latin American author, was the co-chair for this year's gathering, so this made the trip doubly important for me. Jaime's first novel, Amigo del Pueblo, a book about the struggle to maintain democracy in the Third World, won the Bolivar Book Award for political non-fiction in 2006. Since then, the name of Huerta has been required reading in almost every Andean country, including his native Colombia.

As an aspiring travel author, the timing couldn't be better, coming over the U.S. Labor Day weekend. Also, the locale was Babahoyo, the capital of Ecuador's Los Rios Province, just north of the seacoast city of Guayaquil. With direct service from Newark Airport, I was able to arrive in Guayaquil early on Saturday morning and meet Jaime at Simon Bolivar Airport. It was good to see my old friend, and we immediately headed to Babahoyo, directly up the Guayas River, on his small pleasure craft. Jaime owns a restaurant in Babahoyo, the Chifa China, which specializes in both Asian and Ecuadorian cuisine. Upon arrival at his home, Jaime's first request was for me to make a platter of lasagna, which was my specialty at Señor Queso, a restaurant I previously owned in Cuenca, a city high up in the Andes. The signature entree was a lasagna dish I created in honor of a past president of Ecuador by the name of Velasco Ibarra, who had the nickname "El Flaquito" (The skinny one) because he was as thin as a rail. See my blog, On the Road to El Dorado for the recipe.

We ate a hearty lunch of the lasagna, along with a pitcher of Pilsener, the premier Ecuadorian beer. The Book Fair didn't start until 8 pm, so Jaime and I went to the Babahoyo Library, where he signed copies of his book for admiring children. This was probably the last comfortable weekend in Babahoyo, which, being on the coast of Ecuador, enjoys moderate temperatures from May through August. Starting in September, the rainy season begins, with high temps and unbearable humidity. The 76-degrees of this afternoon proved ideal, and the walk from Jaime's house to the library was delightful.

The Book Fair was held under a tent along the banks of Rio Babahoyo, with a lush buffet of tipical Ecuadorian cuisine and other Andean specialites. Since Jaime lived for a time in Peru, there was a never-ending flow of Pisco Sours distributed prior to the opening. Also, since the major ingredient is the juice of the Key Lime, it was also a tribute to Ernest Hemingway, the famous American author who had a home in Key West, Florida. In fact, I consider the meeting of travel writers to be akin to the gathering depicted in Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises. When you get a group of writers together, anything can, and does, happen. It was great meeting fellow writers and exchanging ideas for travel books. I also needed the support of fellow scribes in gathering a head of steam for the final stages of my own book. Sometimes, the ending of a project is more difficult than the beginning!

I met authors from as far away as Buenos Aires, Argentina, where the season will soon change to summer. As a traveler, it's important to realize that there can be such a thing as the "Endless Summer." Returning back home to my garret on the New Jersey Palisades, I await the start of Autumn, and once again picking up quill and dipping it into luxurious black ink.

SEND E-MAIL INQUIRIES OR COMMENTS: alvoto@aol.com

Get There FAST and Take It SLO

Natasha and Natalie resurface on California's Central Coast. The call came in the middle of the night. It was Natalie's voice on the line. After more than four months, her voice was non-apologetic, but her charm always has a way of insinuating itself into my psyche. She was calling from San Luis Obispo, where she was attending the International Todesvermittler Convention at California Polytechnic University. Meg and I were also scheduled to be in San Luis Obispo (SLO) for the convention, so Natalie must have seen my name on the delegate listing. As a metaphysician, the practice of a Todesvermittler has always been interesting to me, and has been refined since "death mediation" first became public knowledge with the challenge, and later prosecution and conviction of Dr. Jack Kevorkian during the late 1990s. Ever since her days working for NASA in Washington, DC, Natalie Ivanova has been deeply involved with the cause of Euthanasia: providing a means of ending life in a painless manner. In the practice of modern metaphysics, theTodesvermittler facilitates the soul's transcendence of the earthly plane and the return to the spiritual plane. I was pleased to learn that both Natalie and Natasha would be in San Luis Obispo during our stay, and we made plans to have dinner at Big Sky Cafe the second night of the convention.

Downtown Association Farmer's Market The SLO Downtown Association sponsors the weekly Farmer's Market held each Thursday evening along Higuera Street. Many restaurants have booths, offering everything from chicken, ribs and western favorites, to Mexican, Asian and Italian cuisine. Many local farms are also represented, offering the best in fruits and vegetables. Since we landed at the airport early that afternoon, Meg and I had ample time to pay a visit to the mission church of San Luis Obispo de Tolosa and amble over to the Farmer's Market, just a couple blocks east. Almost everyone in SLO attends this weekly event, so it wasn't long before Meg and I were met by Natalie chowing down on some ribs from Mo's Smokehouse BBQ. The conference started that morning at Cal Poly, but I had to work late the night before, so Natalie filled me in on the first day's seminar topics and workshops. Since Meg wasn't taking part, Natalie also gave her a rundown of the local shopping opportunities. I purchased a sausage and pepper sandwich from a vendor and an Oatmeal Stout from the SLO Brewing Company, savoring every morsel of the onions piled high on the bun.

Unity in Diversity If anything can be said of San Luis Obispo, it's the fact that there is such unity and cohesiveness in a truly diverse population. If tolerance has a hometown, it must be SLO, where almost every ethnic group is represented, and a large gay population has gained the respect of the community at large. Natalie took us over to the booth of GALA, the Gay and Lesbian Alliance, where Natasha was busy handing out informational brochures and answering questions. Natalie would have also liked to help out at the booth, but she wanted to remain free to show Meg and I around town. Natalie, who freelances in the US defense industry, travels most of the time. Natasha, on the other hand has opted to put down roots in SLO and work in the library at Cal Poly. Natasha Petrova, a native of St. Petersburg, Russia, worked as an information analyst in the Kremlin. She met Natalie on a field trip in the Ukraine, and the two of them immediately bonded.

In Metaphysics, we learn to suspend judgment. It's not the package that counts; the CONTENT is most important. Another way is saying "Never judge a book by it's cover." We Baby Boomers are moving into our "golden" years. In my own life, I passed up on some things that I had been conditioned to shun, either because I was taught it was "morally questionable," or "unhealthy," or not "accepted by society." I must admit that during the past few months, I have begun to realize that doing the things I WANT to do is the most important thing to do in life. Society teaches us to crave a nice, trim body, with the assumption that it shows we are powerful, or successful people. "Dress for Success," we are told; so, we must sport trendy threads to adorn our trim, neat and "healthy" bodies. But, a lesson to be learned from Pop Culture is that a nice "package" often camouflages the fact that there is little CONTENT inside some otherwise attractive people. Many of the nicest people are those society considers to be unacceptable, either because they don't maintain a "fashion" sense, or because they are ground down to a nub by day-to-day living and use "comfort foods" to ease the pain of existence. As the old world collapses around us, we begin to trust our inner selves, and the beauty of our spiritual being. We begin to understand the old Buddhist saying that "The body is only the horse that our soul rides upon."

There is a woman in my writer's group who is in her 70's and writes poetry. Her poems are honest and come from her heart, talking about pain, happiness, regret, fulfillment...the whole gamut of life. She recently self-published a book of her poetry, and often shares her new stuff when we get together. One of her recent poems talks about doing all the things that we once shunned because we were conditioned to reject "pleasure" and our own happiness. We were conditioned to deprive ourselves, and to "sacrifice" our own happiness so that others can be served. Then comes the day when we get THE MESSAGE: that life is to ENJOY, and that we have to be JOYFUL so that we can SHARE our happiness with others. As a metaphysician and life coach, I studied all the major religions of the world. I grew up in the Church and spent a lot of my time volunteering and trying to help other people. But, the mistake I made was trying to "save" others from the pain in life, while I took upon myself a load of pain and suffering. Looking back, I really didn't help anybody or any situation. I should have spent more time taking care of myself, so that I could travel the path of happiness and follow my bliss. Teaching others how to be happy is more important than handing them something on a silver platter, which they never completely appreciate and often really don't value. Now, I'm spending more time on MYSELF. Also, I honor the path that others walk, even when it differs from mine. To paraphrase the Bhagavad Gita, we must respect the diversity of life, while also understanding the unity. The Old Ways are collapsing, and the world is a much different (and tolerant) place than the one we were brought into over 50 years ago.

"Pismo Beach and all the Clams you can eat" We took Bugs Bunny's advice and drove over to Pismo Beach, where you can in fact find the freshest Steamers at Splash Cafe. Pismo is a beach town similar to those along the New Jersey coast. In fact, the only difference is that California has the most lovely ocean sunsets. We took a bucket of food out to the pier, where the late day breeze felt good after the heat of the day. Just south of Pismo, the monarch butterflies congregated on their Spring migration south to Mexico. The sound of Leslie Gore singing "California Nights" lilted ever so gently from one of the bars that dot the boardwalk. Sung by a Jersey girl, I thought the timing was appropriate for the occasion.

Pismo Clam Chowder Recipe:

INGREDIENTS:

4 DOZEN Soft-shelled Steamer Clams

1/4 CUP Shredded Salt Pork

1/2 CUP Chopped Onions

2 tbsp. Flour

1 1/2 CUPS Peeled, diced raw potatoes

1 1/2 CUPS Light Cream

Cayenne pepper to taste

DIRECTIONS:
Wash and scrub clams well. Barely cover with cold water in large pot and bring to a boil. Skim. Simmer for 10 minutes. Drain clams, reserving broth. Discard shells, necks and black thread of clams. Separate hard membrane from soft stomach and place each in separate bowls of cold water.

Slowly fry pork until crisp. Remove pieces and save for garnish. Saute onions in fat until tender. Stir in flour and cook over low heat a few minutes. Add clam broth, chopped membranes and potatoes. Simmer 30 minutes. Add cream, clam stomach and pepper. Garnish with crisp pork pieces. Serves six people.

Surfer's Paradise Surfers congregate nightly at the local Pismo bars, but the locals will tell you that the best of the best surf Morro Bay, a fishing town 10 miles north. It was getting late, so we drove Natalie and Natasha back to San Luis Obispo. Meg and I headed north to Morro Bay, ending the perfect day on the golden Central Coast of California.

SEND E-MAIL INQUIRIES OR COMMENTS: alvoto@aol.com

Prague: Gothic Grandeur, and a bit of Glasnost

Unlocking Secrets in the "City of 100 Spires" Known for it's intrigue and cultural brilliance throughout history, Prague was the first stop on my quest for information on perhaps the world's oldest manuscript, The Delomelanicon. Most literary scholars agree that the manuscript, whose purported author is Lucifer (The Devil), never physically existed. But, either through divination or mystical revelation, there did arise the publication of De Umbrarum Regis Novum Portis (The Nine Doors to the Kingdom of Shadows), written by Giordano Bruno, a 16th century philosopher and cleric who was born in Naples in 1548 and burned as a heretic in Rome by the Inquisition in the year 1600. Bruno held the belief in the "Plurality of Worlds," which was the official charge made at his trial; a belief that parallel universes are in existence and that it is theoretically possible to visit them. As a metaphysician, I was compelled to make my own investigation into this matter.

I contacted Natalie, and old friend from my D.C. days who interprets both Russian and Czech. These two languages might prove necessary in making difficult connections during my research. To my delight, she was available and interested in visiting Prague to assist me. Also, since Natalie is an opera buff, the revival of Don Giovanni, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and currently running at the Prague State Opera, helped sway her decision even more. I immediately went online and purchased two seats for the opera, which pleased Natalie and sealed the deal. We met at Newark Liberty Airport; a 7:45 pm departure would get us into Prague in the early morning. Continental Airlines co-partners with CSA, the Czech airlines, which runs non-stop service to Prague on certain flights. By using my One Pass miles, I was able to upgrade to First Class seats for Natalie and myself. With a glass of Champagne to toast our trip, we enjoyed the flight over along with caviar and pirogi appetizers as a late night nosh.

Upon arriving in Prague, we were met by a limo driven by one of Natalie's friends, Natasha. To make things a bit interesting, they both referred to each other as Natasha, which confused the heck out of me. Finally, to make it easier for me and to avoid confusion, Natasha started using the English name Natalie when referring to, well, Natalie. I had booked two rooms for Natalie and myself, but it became clear that the limo ride was a freebie on Natasha's part and that both Natalie and Natasha would be using the second room during our visit. Also, it was assumed, since I really wasn't an opera aficionado, that Natasha would be accompanying Natalie to that evening's performance of Don Giovanni. As we arrived at our hotel, it also became clear that the two women needed some quality time together. After unpacking my bags, I ventured out into the streets of Prague, solo. We were staying at the Dorint Hotel in the suburb of Želivského, close to the Line A Metro. After purchasing a few train tickets, I took the Metro six stops to Staroměstská - Staré Město - Old Town.

Karlov Most and the Blind Prophet
During my initial research at the New York Public Library, I had found a lead to a possible clue etched into the base of a statue on Karlov Most - Charles Bridge. Charles IV’s Royal astrologists predicted the most auspicious time for the bridge to be built—on July the 9th, at 5:31 am, in the year 1357. This time is carved out on the Old Town Bridge Tower as the numbers 135797531. This carving is to be found near a statue depicting the Crucifixion of Christ. Upon seeing these numbers, I was totally overwhelmed - these numbers belong to me; it is my Social Security number! This coincidence unsettled me for a moment, but my goal was to find the statue of St. Jude on the Malá Strana side of the bridge. I found St. Jude, but didn't find any etchings that made sense to me. There was a bit of graffiti, but nothing that I could interpret myself. I had the thought that perhaps Natalie would be able to see something that I couldn't and was ready to return to the hotel, when a beggar called out to me. He was blind, dirty in a stained jacket and ripped pants; to my amazement, he spoke English.

I was hesitant to discuss the reason for my trip to the Charles Bridge, but he seemed to anticipate a question from me. Upon the first mention of The Delomelanicon, he smiled and seemed to stare up to the invisible heavens. "It is best to be blind," he said. "The Kingdom of Shadows can only be grasped with eyes blind to the distractions of earthly life." He handed me a brochure for Kostel Panny Marie Vítězné - The Church of Our Lady of Victory, a shrine just a few blocks from the bridge. The brochure was in three languages, one of them being English. Inside this church resides the Bambino di Praga - The Infant of Prague. This effigy of Christ is revered the world over and even worshipped in a few cultures. In the Infant's left hand is a globe with a cross on top, denoting Christ's rule over the earth. "The Child only points the way," the beggar continued. "There are many worlds, ruled by many forces; the earth is only one part of the whole universe." The beggar advised me to go see the Infant of Prague. "His many vestments are on display...there are hundreds of them. But, one in particular will guide you to the next part of your quest. Each vestment is numbered. Look for number 666...and you will see."

Out of the Mouths of Babes
It was difficult finding the Church of Our Lady of Victory. There were no signs and I had to rely on the map on the back of the brochure. But, I followed the street named Karmelitská to the small church; entering, I found the altar that held the Infant of Prague doll. It is the custom to dress the Infant in rich vestments made around the world by the Bambino's faithful devotees. This day, the Infant wore a pink vestment made in the mountains of Mexico. I followed the sign to the back of the church, where there was a door with a sign that read "Museum." I was told by a woman that almost 1,000 vestments have been given to the church, but that only a handful are on display in the museum. It cost 350 CZK (about $20 USD) to enter the museum, which I paid at the museum's box office. After climbing two flights of stairs, I was met with a collection of doll clothing that would be the envy of any collector. What seemed like hundreds of vestments were meticulously fashioned, in colors that I didn't even know existed. The garments were all numbered, but not kept in any particular order. It took a few minutes, but I found number 666 - a blue outfit with black trim. There was a sign underneath the vestment that read: Szent Istvan Bazilika, Budapest. I asked the docent what the sign meant and was told that the vestment had been donated by the clergy at the Basilica of Saint Stephen in Budapest, Hungary. "It seems that the funds for the vestment were raised by the library at the basilica," she said. Then she continued, "it really is a fantastic library, with many volumes on religion and spirituality." I jokingly asked if there was a copy of The Delomelanicon at the library. "I don't know of the book you refer to, but that particular library is famous for having the writings of Giordano Bruno, in particular The Nine Doors to the Kingdom of Shadows."

I returned to the hotel to find Natalie and Natasha dressing for a night at the opera. We had enough time for dinner, so we made reservations at Pravda Restaurant in Staré Město. It was explained to me that, during the Russian occupation of Prague, the Pravda was a neutral meeting place between eastern and western spies. As I glanced around the giant dining room, I was met with steely glances from the regular patrons. To break the ice, and in the spirit of Glasnost, I raised my glass and offered a traditional Russian toast, "Na Of zdrovia," which seemed to put everyone at ease. It was explained to me that Czechs consider anyone who doesn't offer a toast before drinking to be an alcoholic. One patron from an adjacent table offered me a pieróg, which I gladly accepted. I glanced at Natalie, remembering the wonderful perogi she used to make on weekends at her apartment in Washington, D.C. I had to admit, her's were far superior to the Czech variety.

Natalie's famous Carpatho-Rusyn Pierogi

INGREDIENTS:
2 slices bacon
1 (20 ounce) can sauerkraut, drained and rinsed
1 teaspoon onion powder
3 tablespoons bacon grease

3 eggs
1/4 cup half-and-half cream
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup milk
1/4 cup butter, softened
5 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/4 cup butter, melted
1 egg, beaten

DIRECTIONS:
Place bacon in a large, deep skillet. Cook over medium high heat until evenly brown. Drain, reserving bacon grease, crumble and set aside.

In medium bowl, combine sauerkraut, onion powder, crumbled bacon and bacon grease. Stir well; set aside.

In large bowl, beat together 3 eggs, half-and-half, salt, milk and 1/4 cup butter with electric mixer. Stir in flour to form a soft dough. Cover and let rest 5 minutes in a warm place. Grease hands and dough with butter, and knead on a floured surface 10 minutes. Divide dough into 4 sections, and grease each with butter to prevent drying out.

Melt remaining 1/4 cup butter; beat remaining egg, combine egg and butter, and set aside. Roll out a section of dough to a thickness of 1/8 inch. Cut out 4 inch circles with round cutter or glass. Place one tablespoon sauerkraut filling in the center of each circle, brush the edges of the circle with the butter and egg mixture, fold in half and press edges together to seal. Repeat with remaining sections of dough.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Cook pierogi for 5 minutes, or until they float to the top.

хороший аппетит! (Bon Appétit!)

Since Natasha was dressed in a formal gown, I offered to drive the limo and drop both women off at the opera after dinner. We ordered some cabbage and dumplings, which I'm told is a Czech delicacy. I had a few more Pilsner Urquells, which really hit the spot, and the innkeeper gave me the glass with the beer's logo as a souvenir. He winked at Natasha, perhaps remembering her from her days as a communist party organizer. After dropping off the women at the opera, I returned to Staré Město and walked the streets, thinking of my next step. A voice from within told me that I should continue my quest in Budapest. As I walked through Wenceslas Square, a vendor called me over to look at his wares. He smiled at me and held out a small facsimile of the Infant of Prague. I held my breath and gasped when I realized the Bambino was wearing the same outfit as I saw earlier at the museum; number 666. Turning the statue over, my intuitive guidance was confirmed as I read "Made in Hungary" on the base. I asked the vendor the price of the statue, but he just continued smiling and waved off my offer to pay.

After the opera was finished, I picked up Natalie and Natasha and returned to the hotel. We agreed to talk things over at breakfast and I retired to my room. I awoke from a bad dream at about 4 am, and knocked at the interleading door to Natalie's room. The door was open, so I peeked in to find the two women seemingly exhausted after a night of passion...an empty bottle on the floor. "Ah," I thought to myself, "Absinthe - The Green Fairy." I knew then that I would be going to Budapest alone.

SEND E-MAIL INQUIRIES OR COMMENTS: alvoto@aol.com