“I think it’s my adventure, my trip, my journey, and I guess my attitude is, let the chips fall where they may”. – Leonard Nimoy
Within an hour our entire campsite was set up and our home for the next few days was ready. It had been awhile since I had camped outdoors, and I had never camped at 15,500 feet before. Although it was nearing summer, I knew that it would get cold once the sun went down and the winds picked up speed, sweeping cold air off the ice of the glacier.
A view from the dining tent. My tent is the small white one in the background with the glacial tongue shortly behind it.
Since we had an hour or two before dinner, we decided to explore our surroundings by taking a short hike to the mouth of the glacier. The rain had stopped but the wind was fierce. We had heard that this time of year can be rather temperamental in the Andes which explained why we were the only ones there at the camp site. In another month or two, it would be filled with tents and trekkers. Yet despite the questionable weather I felt lucky to have the entire view to ourselves.
“We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventures that we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open”. – Jawaharlal Nehru
We had reached our first test of adventure getting to the base camp at Condoriri Valley when we arrived at a collapsed bridge. Heavy rains that are common during the early summer season of November had washed it away and Javier, our guide, informed us that in rural Bolivia, infrastructure like roads and bridges are the responsibility of the village. Therefore, everyone in the neighboring community was required to spend the day repairing the bridge. No one in the community was excluded from helping out, even the women and children had a role.
Thankfully we had a land rover that enabled us to drive off road otherwise we would have been stuck. The bridge is essential for the community as is the gravel road that is a five-hour walk from the base of Condoriri Valley to the main highway. For those without cars, it is a long commute to civilization either on foot or bicycle. I learned that rural Bolivians are hardy people.
As we drove further and further away from the main road, the dramatic scenery became even more breathtaking. We passed traditional rural homes made of mud bricks layered tightly one on top of the other, covered with thatched roofs, and the brownish-green rolling hills of the glacier moraine that rest below the mighty Andes.
“Mountains are not stadiums where I satisfy my ambition to achieve, they are the cathedrals where I practice my religion.” – Anatoli Boukreev
There is something about leaving a big city and heading out to the countryside that truly shows the meaning of a place. Whenever I travel, I try my best to see both urban and rural parts of a country. While I enjoy the adventure and activity of a big urban city, for me getting out of it is the best part of all. I love the mountains, hills, and countryside. For it is within nature that I often feel the most alive.
Clouds thicken with rain at the foot of the Condoriri Valley in Bolivia.
Back in November, my father and I spent three days in La Paz, Bolivia acclimatizing to the high altitude and gearing up for our base camp at the foot of the Bolivian Andes in the Condoriri Valley at 15,500 feet. Landing in El Alto, the highest international airport in the world at a dizzying altitude of 13,323 feet (4,061 m), is not for the lighthearted nor is spending three days exploring the hilly, high altitude urban jungle of La Paz (which happens to be only slightly lower in elevation than her neighbor El Alto).
By the third morning, I was ready to leave the craziness of La Paz behind for a few days and go find myself in the beloved mountains. I’ve always loved the mountains as it is the one place in the world that I can truly find peace and reflection. Furthermore, I truly enjoy a good physical and mental challenge and that was just was I was about to get over the next few days hiking in Condoriri Valley.
When I first told friends that I was going to Haiti I got a lot of negative responses. “I would never go there” scolded a doctor friend of mine. “It is way too dangerous” warned another. Sadly the media has not painted a pretty picture of Haiti. Over and over again we have seen images and read articles about the devastation, poverty, political instability and disease, that makes Haiti sound like some kind of backwater, scary place. People thought I was crazy to go there.
As a seasoned traveler who has been to some rough places, I made sure I did my research. I talked to friends who had been there before and all of them said I had to go. That it would change me. And it did.
Now I want to share with the world the good things about Haiti. The stuff the media doesn’t cover because they want to sell a story. I’m not going to talk about the tent communities, the lack of infrastructure and health services. That will come later. Instead, I’m going to tell you about the spectacular art I saw on my trip visiting the artisans who work with Heart of Haiti.
Some of the amazing art produced in Haiti for Artisan Business Network.
One thing I learned is that Haiti is a nation of artisans. With a population of a little over ten million people, some estimates report that almost half a million Haitians rely on the handicraft sector as their primary or secondary source of income. No other sector employs such a high percentage of people in Haiti. Furthermore, art is an enormous part of Haitian life and culture and can be found nearly everywhere even in surprising, unexpected places.
The devastating 2010 earthquake that tore apart Port-au-Prince significantly hurt the artisan trade. Per Nat Tancrede, Executive Director at ABN (Artisan Business Network), the once thriving handicraft sector was almost destroyed. Before the earthquake it was reported that around 40-50 containers of artisan produced goods left Haiti weekly to the United States during the peak years of 1980-1985. Yet, in 2010 after the earthquake only six containers were being shipped a week. For a nation that depends on the handicraft sector, it had strong implications for the economy and the lives of the artisans. Today, the handicraft sector is continuing to grow and provide more sustainable incomes to both women and men, and Nat foresees even more opportunity down the road.
For a culture that is so strongly connected to art, Haiti is an art lover’s dream yet it remains relatively undiscovered. Art truly is everywhere in Haiti. Along the walls and sides of buildings and even on the side of the street lies handmade metal art, statues, papier-mâché and paintings. It was something that really surprised and amazed me.
We arrived near the Champs de Mars in central Port-au-Prince a little after six for our night of music and light-soaked adventure at Carnival. Given the fact that there are very few tourists in Haiti, we had hired an additional security person for the night to help us arrive safely at our stand where we would watch the festivities from above. I admit that I was a little nervous about getting to the stand safely as the streets were already packed with people and getting across the street proved daunting.
We lined up in single file, placing our cameras and anything of value inside our shirts and wormed our way into the mayhem of a crowd-filled street. It wasn’t as bad as I anticipated but knew as time went by, the streets would only get more crowded and getting out of Carnival would be a challenge. But I decided to not think of it at the time and simply embrace the experience.
Getting across the street in this crowd proved challenging.
We made it across the street to the entrance of the Minister of Tourism stand, where we passed through a group of armed guards who insured we had our Minister of Tourism Carnival t-shirts on and a wristband. If you didn’t have one on, you were not let in.
The stand was already crowded with people and we found a crammed spot in the front overlooking the street below. By standing on a chair, I got a bird’s-eye view of the festivities and realized that it would never have been possible to attend Carnival if we weren’t in a stand. The streets were so crowded that it resulted in a lot of pushing and shoving and I’m shocked that more fights didn’t break out. The atmosphere was festive but intense. There were smiles across the faces but unfortunately my amateur photographic skills especially capturing movement and night scenes do not depict it.
“Piti piti, zwazo fè nich” –“Little by little birds build their nests” – Haitian proverb
Similar to the rest of Latin America, Haiti was colonized by Europeans who imposed their Roman Catholic religion on the people. While half of the island was colonized by the Spanish and became the Dominican Republic, the western, smaller portion of the island was colonized by the French and is officially known as the Republic of Haiti.
Haiti is the only predominantly Francophone nation in the Americas and also one of the only nations to practice Voodoo, a syncretic religion that blends African, European and indigenous Taíno beliefs. Haitian Voodoo originated in the Caribbean during the 18th century French Empire as a way for West African slaves to continue using their own religion and beliefs while they were being forced to convert to Christianity. About half of all Haitians practice a combination of Catholicism and Voodoo.
It just so happened that I was in Haiti during Carnival. In all my travels, I had never experienced Carnival before and given Haiti’s unique combination of Catholicism and Voodoo, I could only imagine what Carnival would be like. I had already seen a lot of religious influences within Haiti’s amazing art, music and dance during the first few days of my visit. I knew attending Carnival in Port-au-Prince would be one of those bucket-list life experiences.
As a stoke of luck, our Haitian friend Nat who is the Executive Director of ABN (Artisan Business Network) was able to get our group tickets to be in the Minister of Tourism’s stand. We would leave at six o’clock to beat the masses of crowds that would eventually make the Champs de Mars impassable until the wee hours of the morning.
As we left Pétionville and headed down the mountain into the heart of Port-au-Prince, traffic was intense and preparations for Carnival were well underway. Earlier in the day, we had stopped by one of the stands on Champs de Mars to visit one of the artisans that Nat works with at ABN. The finishing touches were going up all around us.
Going down the heart of Champs de Mars, where the streets are lined with stands for Carnival.
When I arrived in Port-au-Prince last Thursday morning I had no idea what to expect. Danica, who leads the blogger trips for Heart of Haiti, handed each one of us a leather-bound journal with a personal note. My friend Leticia, A Heart of Haiti veteran brought along her eleven-year-old daughter Emily. Inside Emily’s journal was the Haitian proverb: “Dèyè mòn gen mòn” which means “beyond the mountains, more mountains.” Danica informed young Emily that her goal of the trip was to figure out what this proverb meant. She also said that it had not one but many meanings.
Entering the memorial at the Hotel Montana in Port-au-Prince where 100 people died during the January 12, 2010 earthquake.
The city of La Paz is one of the most unusual places I’ve ever been simply given its unimaginable geography. Built within the deep walls of a canyon La Paz snakes and sprawls down preposterously steep, narrow and congested streets making mass transit an absolute nightmare. The only way to get around is on foot, by cab (which is expensive for most Bolivians) or to ride in one of the city’s 40,000 over-packed minibuses.
High above Zona Sur and central La Paz, lies El Alto, a city within itself that has exploded over the years as Bolivians migrate from the countryside into the city. Today, El Alto has over a million people and getting from El Alto to the center of La Paz and Zona Sur (way down below at the bottom of the canyon) can prove to be a long affair especially at rush hour.
Understanding the great need for a better mass transit system, the Bolivian government set their hopes high on a rather unusual solution: The construction and implementation of one of the largest urban cable car systems in the world to be used for transportation.
As an avid skier, I have experienced the luxury and ease of riding a Swiss-made gondola high above the snow-covered peaks of the Alps. But I had never in my wildest dreams imagined the same kind of gondola would be used in a huge, chaotic city like La Paz.
When I first saw the cable cars in the sky I was stunned. Little dots were everywhere floating graciously up the mountains. I asked the cab driver if they were for sightseeing but he said no. They were for transportation. Instantly I knew I had to take a ride for myself and experience an urban gondola. I grabbed my camera knowing there would be many amazing views from above, and was off.
The Andes are an incredible mountain range passing from north to south through seven countries making it the longest continental mountain range in the world. There is something about the Andes that is simply magical. The grandeur, scale and scope of the Andes is mind-boggling. Over 4,300 miles long (7,000 km) and at points up to 430 miles wide (700 km), the Andes are immense and are blessed with some of the highest volcanoes in the world and largest ice fields.
I have been lucky to have set foot on the Andes in Peru, Chile, Argentina and most recently, Bolivia. There is no way I can pick favorites as each place has been unique and special in its own way. A four-day visit to the Cordillera Real in the Altiplano of Bolivia gave me once again a feeling of the enormous scale of the Andes. There are over 600 snow-capped peaks in just the Cordillera Real and we only hiked two of them.
On the first day at our camp as the morning sun rose high above the Andes, I shot these photos of what was to come. Judging by the immense beauty, I knew that the Bolivian Andes offered something special.
Its been 16 years since I’ve been skiing in Utah and after two days of hard skiing I realize what a mistake it has been not coming again sooner. I love skiing out West and I especially love Snowbird. The fluffy white powder (averages 500 inches per season) and serendipitous deep blue sky is enough to make anyone love winter. In my opinion, Snowbird is one of the best ski areas out West.
Located in the heart of the Wasatch-Cache National Forest in Little Cottonwood Canyon only a mile down canyon from the Alta ski resort, Snowbird is a picturesque place with little development. The ski area is 2,500 acres with 168 runs and a terrain ranging from 27 percent beginner, 38 percent intermediate and 35 percent advanced/expert. The top elevation of the resort is at 11,000-foot Hidden Peak in which you can ride up in a large 125-person Tram in seven minutes flat. The views of the snow-capped peaks in all directions are breathtaking.
Landing on a cloudy day over the Great Salt Lake is amazing.
It has been a short, three-generational trip with my daughter Sophia and father. The conditions have been amazing with the most snow in the country and unseasonably warm weather. It has been a fantastic break from winter back in Minnesota. There is nothing better than being in the mountains whether it be walking, hiking, skiing or even just having a picnic. Here are a few shots from the trip.
Sometimes it is hard to believe that tranquility can be found inside the center of a vibrant, bustling city like La Paz. Yet for that exact reason I believe the founders of La Paz created just that kind of place directly within the heart and soul of the city. Originally called Plaza de Armas, Plaza Murillo was renamed after the war hero General Pedro Domingo Murillo who lead the wars of independence which eventually freed La Paz from its Colonial past.
Plaza Murillo is smack in the middle of La Paz and is surrounded by beautiful government buildings and an ornate cathedral. It is a lovely place to sit and chat with friends, have a snack or refreshment from a nearby street vendor or play with the swarms of pigeons. Whatever you fancy, you can find it here.
As you enter the Plaza Murillo, your eyes are immediately drawn to the gorgeous cathedral soaring majestically above the square. Built in 1835, the imposing cathedral was constructed in Renaissance style and sits proudly next to the Presidential Palace. I spent a few moments walking around the square capturing some of the various buildings. It was evident that most of Plaza Murillo had been nicely restored but like the rest of the city, other parts had been obviously missed.
One of my favorite finds in La Paz is Calle Jaén, the most colonial street in the city. About a ten minute walk directly uphill from the Iglesia de San Francisco, Calle Jaén is a magical place. Colored in Spanish Colonial hues of brilliant reds, blues, greens and pinks, walking down Calle Jaén’s narrow cobblestone street feels like stepping back in time.
It took a little bit of wandering around to find it and sadly I almost got pick-pocketed by a very normal looking man (thank you Mom for lending me a jacket with a complicated button closing the pocket! Otherwise he would have been able to grab my travel wallet!). When I felt the tug on my jacket and realized what was going on, I started to yell and he was gone. It was a close call though not enough to keep me away from finding Calle Jaén. I was determined to find this hidden treasure.
Leaving Iglesia de San Francisco and heading up towards Calle Jaén
Even the building leading up to Calle Jaen are quite colorful.
