Tag Archives: Travel

Mission San Xavier – a love story for the ages

Better late than never?

Two weekends ago I was in Tucson, Arizona. As I read reports of 120 degree flight-cancelling weather in Arizona this week, I was SO GRATEFUL that it was a mere 104 degrees when my college friends and I were there.

We were up from sunrise to sundown…

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One early morning, we drove to Mission San Xavier del Bac, also known as the White Dove of the Desert. Situated on the Tohono O’odham Reservation, this Spanish Colonial building rises up like a miraculous white apparition in the middle of the desert.

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IMG_3700.jpgThe Mission was founded in 1692 by Father Eusebio Kino, a Catholic missionary of Italian descent, but the original mission was destroyed in an Apache raid. Eventually, Spanish Franciscans took over the Mission and the present building was built in its place between 1783 and 1797. Today it is an active parish that is still run by Franciscans and continues to serve the Tohono O’odham tribe for and by whom it was originally built.

It is a constant battle and labor of love to maintain the Mission, which is buffeted by a harsh and punishing climate. A film playing on endless loop in a side room at the Mission documents the latest major renovation that happened over five or six years in the 90s, when it was discovered that the cement used to stucco over the exterior was absorbing and trapping water. All of the cement had to be picked away and replaced. The conservators consulted with artisans in Mexico who taught them how to make the more breathable stucco that had originally coated the church. I was fascinated to learn that the recipe calls for just sand, lime, and the juice of prickly pear cactus! The emergency repairs to the exterior were just the beginning…

Tim Lewis was a young man from the Tohono O’odham Reservation who was drifting from job to job, doing drugs, and drinking too much when a call was put out for apprentices to begin work on a major interior restoration. Like many a father of wayward sons, his dad urged him to go out and get a job. Lewis showed up at the Mission without a resume and without any guile:

I told them I couldn’t paint, I had no art background at all and I didn’t even like art in school…I told them I hated school and I didn’t know why I was there, and I wasn’t even qualified for this at all. (Tim Lewis is quoted in Cindy Somers’ “San Xavier Restoration” article in Tucson Citizen)

In what I think can only be ascribed to some sort of divine miracle – he was hired.

Lewis says that working on the Mission saved his life. He got clean and sober. He gained a sense of purpose to his life. Eventually, the Mission led him to love. He was sent to Europe to learn from professional conservators. On his first day in Salzburg, he met Matilde Rubio, a conservator from Spain. With obvious love in his voice and a small smile playing on an otherwise impassive face he says, “If I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t have ever married anyone.” Rubio moved to Lewis’ village where they married and together they rejoined the crew working on the Mission. The two now travel together and work side by side on restoration projects around the world

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Saint Kateri Tekakwitha (1656-1680), the first Native American saint in the Roman Catholic Church.

The art of conservation is as an act of devotion. The conservator must never assert his or her own artistry, but rather must try to understand and recreate the original artist’s vision. This guiding principle necessitates the renunciation of ego and painstaking labor. To restore peeling frescoes, for example, a dot of adhesive was painstakingly applied by syringe behind each tiny flake of paint, until it absorbed the glue and relaxed back into the wall. The story of humans fighting against the elements and the march of time to protect and maintain a thing of beauty strikes me as a love story for the ages.

San Antonio’s Central Library

WOW – this library! It’s a Mexican Modernist marvel.IMG_8695IMG_8680.jpgIMG_8690

Sneak peek at the Chihuly sculpture Fiesta Tower from the escalator…angles, angles, angles…IMG_8689

Then KAPOW! with the 20’8″ sculpture exploding up through the atrium.IMG_3083

The library has the books and public computers you’d expect at most libraries, but there are also: an art gallery, a Children’s Low-Vision Reading Room with Braille and audio books, and the “Book Cellar,” a fantastic used book store in the basement.

It takes a lot to maintain such an amazing library…

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YIKES!

Postcards from San Antonio

The lovely, meandering River Walk is the heart of San Antonio…

IMG_3066IMG_3028It’s even prettier at night than it is at daytime. I loved hearing the mockingbirds singing in the trees all night long.IMG_8620

On our first evening in San Antonio we had dinner at Boudro’s on the River Walk. The only thing I can remember about that meal was the guacamole, which was transcendent. Fortunately for the world, they post their recipe here!

We witnessed a few weddings happening at this spot…IMG_8648

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A glass mosaic mural by Carlos Merida Confluence of Civilizations at the Henry B. Gonzalez Convention Center

There are sculptures dotting the courtyard of the Mexican Cultural Institute, which is on the grounds of the convention center…

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We strolled around La Villita Historic Arts Village, located right off the River Walk…

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It was a long afternoon…

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I am now obsessed with the concept of a jellyfish chandelier. They are kind of hard to see through the window…

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…but check these out! Or how about these?

We didn’t forget the Alamo…IMG_8674

and San Fernando Cathedral, the oldest standing church in Texas, where Davy Crockett, William Travis, and James Bowie are laid to rest:

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South Main Plaza where the Cathedral is situated has a European feel to it. We weren’t able to make it, but at night a light show is projected onto the façade.IMG_3033IMG_3043

The Spanish Governor’s PalaceIMG_3053

Tchotchkes galore at Market Square…IMG_3055

A little bull rider…IMG_3057

Pint-size cowboy boots!IMG_3059IMG_3087

We waited for over an hour to be seated for dinner at places like Boudro’s, Zinc, and Rosario’s. On our last night in San Antonio, we had our one non-Mexican/Tex-Mex dinner here…IMG_8758

Hot Joy is a buzzy restaurant that has been written up in Bon Appétit as a “Top 10 New Restaurants in America.” It’s got a casual, colorful vibe and interesting Asian fusion dishes. It was probably way too cool for the likes of me, which is why we showed up at 5 pm and were seated with no wait!

Our hotel was right next door to the Briscoe Western Art Museum which opens late (and for free) on Tuesday nights. After our early dinner we strolled through the museum…IMG_8777IMG_8763

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Reverence 2012, George Hallmark (b. 1949)

The one place on my list that I didn’t get to, which will be my first stop if I ever go back to San Antonio, is the Japanese Tea Garden at the San Antonio Botanical Garden…

My favorite place in San Antonio, besides the River Walk in general, was the Central Public Library. I’ll post photos of this eye-popping building tomorrow!

Denver, Co

I recently spent a week in Denver, Colorado at NAFSA, a conference for international educators.

We had barely stepped off the plane when a couple of my colleagues and I headed to Red Rocks Amphitheatre to watch The Big Lebowski…but really to see the awesome Red Rocks Amphitheatre.

Unprepared for the chilly mountain air and not yet acclimated to the two hour time difference, we had to leave halfway through the movie to head back to the hotel.

We had to get a good night’s sleep so that we could enjoy all the scintillating presentations the next day…

WOOHOO! STEM OPT!

…at the Colorado Convention Center.

Haka dancers opened for the keynote speaker:

New York Times columnist David Brooks:

And Aloe Blacc sang at the opening celebration…

With all the conference sessions, we had very limited time to explore Denver, but we did get to see a few things.

NYC has a Duane Reade on every street corner. Denver has its own kind of corner pharmacy:

The perils of smoking too much pot?

“Some kind of descriptive text goes here.”

You could smell it everywhere, but not at the Convention Center!

Larimer Square:

Our Uber driver told us, “Don’t bother with the Denver Art Museum. If you really want to see something you won’t see anywhere else in the world, go to the Clyfford Still Museum!” And so we did:

I still kind of wish I had gotten to see the Denver Art Museum, or the Museum of Contemporary Art…(Next time)!

Colorado State Capitol
Denver District Court
“What is the city but the people?”

We loved the shops and restaurants at Union Station…

and the Tattered Cover Book Store was fun to explore:

In the Cherry Creek neighborhood on our last evening in Denver, we happened upon Osaka Ramen:

which had pretty good ramen:

…interesting “My Wife’s Donuts,” filled with mochi, dusted with kinako sugar, and served with salted butter:

and the most delicious french fries I’ve ever had anywhere:

Okonomiyaki Fries with yaki sauce, kewpie mayo, furikake, and bonito flakes.

We went back to our hotel and spent our last few hours in Denver admiring the views of the city at night in Peaks Lounge on the 27th floor of the Hyatt Regency Denver:

Our flight back home the next day, or at least the DC to Charlottesville leg of it, was spectacularly horrifying. After three or four delays, we were finally allowed to board the plane hours more than three hours after we were supposed to depart.

As I walked across the tarmac, I peered into the cockpit. I was alarmed to see that the pilot looked young – as young as a college kid maybe…like an inebriated frat boy type maybe. He was tossing his head back and guffawing. Uneasily, I took my seat and dutifully listened to the announcements.

I’m sorry you all had to wait here for so long. I don’t know why they didn’t send you home on a reserve plane, and instead put you on this plane, which hasn’t been serviced in a while. I tried to spray down the bathroom, but, well, you know what happens when a plane sits outside in the heat for days…

My colleague and I glanced over at each other with alarmed expressions on our faces. We tried to relax as the plane started to taxi down the runway, but just as it was reaching maximum speed, the pilot suddenly took a sharp right and brought the plane to a stop.

We seem to be having some mechanical issue that has prevented us from taking off. We’re going to wait here for the crew to come out and check the plane. It might just be a quick fix, or we may have to head back to the terminal…In the meantime, I’m going to have to cut off the AC, so it’s probably going to get pretty hot in the plane. Sorry about that…

“I think we should get off right now,” my friend said anxiously. Given the circumstances, it was a perfectly reasonable suggestion.

“The door’s locked. What can we do?” I answered.

We kept looking out for the crew to arrive. As far as we could tell, they never showed up. Instead, the pilot kept gunning the engine.

And then suddenly: “We’re off!“ he announced without any further explanation. The plane took off and we endured a short, but harrowing flight to C’ville. The tiny little plane kept getting buffeted by the winds. At one point, it juddered so hard, it felt like it might burst apart at the seams. I had my eyes clenched shut the whole time and was saying one long fervent prayer, which only ended with an abrupt “JESUS!” when the plane landed hard at Charlottesville Airport. It turned out my friend had been praying the entire time too…I guess the prayers worked. We got back home alive! Denver was great, but:

 

Baltimore in 2 days with 3 kids

  • We were thoroughly charmed by the two days we spent in Charm City. Here’s our itinerary…

Wednesday

We left C’ville for Baltimore at 9 am.

We drove straight to Fort McHenry, arriving around noon (after one impromptu stop to visit Yoder’s and the petting farm). My 13 year old history buff was especially anxious to visit the star-shaped fort, the scene of the epic battle during the War of 1812, which inspired Francis Scott Key to write The Star Spangled Banner.

Inside the Visitors Center you watch a short movie in which the battle is reenacted. At the conclusion of the movie, the screen dramatically flies up to reveal a huge window overlooking the fort over whose ramparts flies the American flag. Everyone stands up and, hands over hearts, sings The Star Spangled Banner. I have to admit, I got caught up in the moment. There just may have been a tear welling in the corner of my eye. And then I heard my 16 year old say, “This is so cheesy.” And it totally was. But stirring nevertheless.

Oh, say can you see?
Sheltering from the bombs bursting in air…

We drove to the Homewood Suites by Hilton Baltimore, where we would spend the next couple of days. The hotel is in an excellent location, not quite overlooking the water, (at least from our suite), but a very short walk away from the Harbor. They serve a complimentary breakfast every day and a complimentary dinner with wine and beer Monday through Thursday. The food was not spectacular, but decent. There always seemed to be at least one standout item at every meal that was actually delicious: buttery croissants, hash browns, super fresh caesar salad, etc.

After checking out our room and having a brief rest, we headed out to walk around the neighborhood:

The last surviving ship of Pearl Harbor

We walked over to the World Trade Center and went up to the Observation Deck to get 360 degree views of the city:


We walked back to the hotel for dinner and then headed to Little Italy for dessert  at Vaccaro’s:

We may have gotten a little carried away:

Oreo Sundae
Death by Chocolate!
Tiramisu Gelato

Despite our valiant efforts, we had to bring almost all of it back to the hotel to stash in the freezer.

We watched a movie and then headed to bed. We had two double beds and a sleeper sofa, but my silly girl insisted that she wanted to sleep here:

(She eventually did crawl into bed with me in the middle of the night)!

Day One: DONE!

Country Markets

Last Wednesday we left for a two day trip to Baltimore.

IMG_5301.jpgThe kids’ backseat banter set the tone for the trip.

Caesar v. Shaka Zulu. Who would win?

Me from the driver’s seat – What’s Shaka Zulu?

There was an uncomfortable silence and then I heard: You mean who is Shaka Zulu?

Uh, yeah, ok: who is Shaka Zulu?

I could sense the pity and disbelief as the boys explained to their shockingly ignorant mother who Shaka Zulu was.

Kids v. Me. Kids, obviously.

We didn’t get too far up 29 before we spotted Yoder’s Country Market. Despite the fact that it’s not too far from where we live AND has a petting farm, we’d never been.

IMG_5334.jpgWe’ve been missing out!

The aisles are full of interesting things such as baking supplies like this. I’m pretty sure you can’t find “Pure as Snow Cake Flour” at Harris Teeter.

IMG_5302There were lots of baked homemade goods made by Mennonites in their own kitchens, as well as other groceries like local organic meat, dairy products, and vegetables.

The next time we go, we’ll try out the café. We were sorely tempted to try the hand dipped ice cream, but thought it would be too decadent to have it at 9:30 am.

Decadence v. Restraint. Restraint. This time.

Our greatest discovery was this:

IMG_5340It’s almost scary how addictive these are.

After stashing our purchases in the car, we strolled over to the petting farm:

Peacock v. Turkey:

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The turkey definitely came out on top. But just wait till November.

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Ruffled feathers

My birds v. the Rhea birds:

IMG_5321IMG_5327A draw!

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Ready for my close up.

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“I can’t decide if that duck is having a really bad hair day, or a really awesome hair day!”

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Pig v. pig

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ALL MINE!

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You lookin’ at me?

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Girl v. baby goat. Baby goat. No contest. She’s smitten.

We had such a good time at Yoder’s that on our way back home after our trip to Baltimore, we decided to check out another country store we’d always driven past, but had also never visited:

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Yoder’s v. The Ole Country Store & Bakery? Yoder’s for the win.

The Ole Country Store didn’t have a petting farm or the crazy good Mediterranean Cocktail Snacks.

Yoder’s v. Us.

Yoder’s!

We crossed four busy lanes of traffic to go back to Yoder’s on the opposite side of the highway for one last visit…and to buy two more bags of Mediterranean Snacks!

Decadence v. Restraint. Decadence, baby.

Tomorrow: Baltimore in 2 days with 3 kids.

The Rest of Us

Some of us are visiting stately homes…

Some of us are deciding which jaunty beret to wear today…

Some of us are wandering around in beech hedge mazes:

Some of us are in Wales visiting Castle Conwy…

and picturesque waterfalls:

Some of us are taking a leisurely tour of the Lake District:

Ambleside

And the rest of us?

Well, the rest of us are up to our usual no good…

Lumpy and Stupid Visit the Country, Part I

On Monday we drove two hours to the north of Seoul to visit the graves of my mother’s parents and brother. On Tuesday we drove two and a half hours to the south of Seoul to visit my father’s last living sibling – a brother who is three years older than he is.

En route we stopped at a rest area, where I couldn’t resist snapping photos like a hayseed visiting the big city for the first time.

Hmmm…Which side to pick?

WRONG SIDE!

Squatter

The right side was equipped with this device, as many of the public restrooms are:

In the land of perfect people, with a push of a button, unpleasant bathroom noises can be masked with the pleasing sound of flowing water.

Here’s a good idea:

Massage chairs for weary travelers.

No Popeye’s Fried Chicken or Sbarros in this rest area:

Mmm…onion donuts!

We tried these cunning little walnut cakes, a specialty of the region:

Alas, like most Korean desserts, they were filled with sweet red bean paste.

More on Lumpy and Stupid’s visit to the country tomorrow.

Giving Thanks for Crazy, Part III

I was in my first year at college and things weren’t going so well. I felt like an alien in a land where everyone already seemed to know each other from their days at Groton, Exeter or Andover. This blandly good-looking tribe wore the same uniform with only subtle variations.They would languidly call out to each other by their last names as they regrouped every Wednesday and every weekend to drink themselves blind at the frats.

I was a long way from home: a ten hour drive from Arlington to Hanover, New Hampshire, to be exact. We couldn’t afford a ticket to get me back home for the short Thanksgiving break, especially with the longer Winter break just around the corner. The campus was completely deserted. I was all alone in my big empty dorm, and all alone for my first Thanksgiving away from home.

I thought about that first Thanksgiving as I drove up to Arlington to be with my parents this Tuesday evening. The memory of it made me shake my head as I inched my way up 29 North, which was clogged with all the other weary travelers trying to outrun the 5-8 inch snowfall that was predicted for the next morning. On that Thanksgiving evening many years ago, my parents showed up at my dorm room after hours and hours of driving with my younger brother in tow. If you’ve ever driven along the Northeast corridor around Thanksgiving, you’ll know that a ten hour drive can easily become a twenty hour drive. I was appalled and aghast that they had done this for me, and also – so, so glad. We ordered pizza for our Thanksgiving dinner and ate it off paper plates in my room. It was a feast fit for a king and queen.

As you might expect, no amount of coaxing or pleading could convince them to stay the night. We ate our dinner and they headed off into the snowy night to drive all the way back to Arlington. I know my parents are crazy like I know the earth is round, but I also know that I have been incredibly lucky in my life to have experienced their love. I’m thankful for it every single day. May each and every one of us know that crazy, unreasonable, outrageous love, and may we put it right back out there into the universe.

Happy Thanksgiving to you!

Giving Thanks for Crazy, Part II

For the first year of our marriage, my husband and I lived in my parents’ house in Arlington, Virginia. They were living in Korea at the time, and during that year, they made a couple of trips back home. On one of their return visits, we went to the airport to pick them up. Their flight was arriving late at night and we imagined they would be exhausted after their brutally long trans-Pacific flight. We figured we would bring them back home and that they would spend the next 24 hours in a deep, coma-like sleep.

They came through the gates with a man we did not recognize. This in and of itself was not particularly surprising. My parents were always springing this sort of thing on us. Throughout my childhood, strangers drifted in and out of our lives all the time. Some people collect tchotchkes, my parents collect people. Our family was large, and we lived in a cramped house. As the smallest daughter, I would always be the one who would have to share my twin bed with the visitors when they happened to be women. It wasn’t particularly comfortable to sleep in bed with a stranger, especially since I could speak no Korean, and they usually spoke no English, but it was all part of the landscape of my childhood.

It was around 11 pm once we got everyone’s luggage and were finally on the road. As we drove back to the house, I brought up the question of sleeping arrangements with my mother.

“Oh, we’re not staying!” she said, as if this should have been the most obvious thing in the world,  “We’re driving to Tennessee as soon as we get back to the house. We have some business there.”

I looked at her with blank incomprehension. “Hunh?” was all I could stupidly muster.

I knew they were crazy, but this? This was beyond the pale. Surely, she was so tired, so delirious, that she was simply talking nonsense.

As soon as we arrived, they hopped out of the car and transferred the luggage to the back of their own car. At their behest, we’d driven it around the block periodically while they were away to keep it running. It was then that I realized they really and truly did mean to drive for ten hours after just stepping off a nineteen hour flight. I pleaded with them to see reason.

“But that’s crazy! You can’t be serious! It’s dangerous to drive when you’re so tired! Why can’t you sleep for just one night and then go? I’m sure your friend doesn’t want to sit in a car for another ten hours after flying for an entire day either.”

“He can sleep in the car!” my mom said.

“Well, what about poor DAD?! How’s HE going to manage all of that driving all by himself?! I’m sure he’s exhausted!”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Adrienne. I’ll be fine!” my dad said with exasperating nonchalance.

“Well…when are you coming back?!” I asked, completely frustrated by these two utterly irresponsible, unreasonable parents of mine.

“In a couple of days,” they said. “We’ll see you some time on Friday!”

I watched them drive away, wishing I could spank them.

The next night, around 2 am, I woke up to violent pounding on our front door and the doorbell being rung over and over again. Terrified and trembling, I shook my husband awake.

“Someone’s at the door!” I whispered, “You have to go see what’s happening!”

I cowered in bed, my heart thumping, ready to dial 911. My husband shambled out of bed, still half-asleep and clad only in a pair of boxers. He swung open the door to discover my parents grinning like a couple of Cheshire cats on the doorstep, waiting to be let into the house. (Have I mentioned that they don’t believe in carrying keys)?

“We decided to come back early!” they announced cheerfully, politely pretending that they didn’t notice the fact that my husband was standing before them, nearly naked. This, by the way, is just one of the many reasons that man and I are bonded for life…We’ve both experienced the trauma of having been seen by each other’s parents naked! To be honest, I think it was actually more painful for me than it was for him that my parents saw him naked. But I digress…

Come back tomorrow for the conclusion of Giving Thanks for Crazy!