tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-107887652011-07-29T07:34:50.824+02:00an ohio boy travels the world with msfPaul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.comBlogger8791100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-80244825820773023832010-07-25T01:33:00.004+02:002010-07-25T01:39:19.217+02:00

After five and a half years of hosting my blog here at blogger.com, I've decided to shift new posts to a new site. As long as possible, I'll keep this site active since the older posts still show up better here than as imported into the new site; but I won't be putting new material up here any more. To see older posts in their original format, be sure you click on each link to the right for the

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-44871314236053015692010-05-01T04:20:00.000+02:002010-06-28T20:03:43.217+02:00

Editor's note: my blog host has become stupid and made it impossible to blog as I've been doing for more than five years. This has made three of the four posts I put up for Kerala invisible to most readers. I'm fixing this now by acting like I posted some of them in different months, later. I'll fix this more permanently, some time soon I hope, by changing the host of my blog. Suggestions on

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-67902237161103327262010-04-01T04:45:00.000+02:002010-06-28T20:05:16.435+02:00

Editor's note: my blog host has become stupid and made it impossible to blog as I've been doing for more than five years. This has made three of the four posts I put up for Kerala invisible to most readers. I'm fixing this now by acting like I posted some of them in different months, later. I'll fix this more permanently, some time soon I hope, by changing the host of my blog. Suggestions on

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-10630941639387207032010-03-01T04:55:00.000+01:002010-06-28T19:50:25.698+02:00

March 1 is Holi, here in India. A week ago smw, slt was finishing up week+ exploration of central and southern Kerala, plus a dip into southernmost Tamil Nadu. Now we're working to get these photos posted so that we can get back to working, holiday notwithstanding, on the presentation for our next management meeting in Delhi, to which I'll fly tomorrow. My time in India is beginning to wind down

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-30200176328821119512010-02-01T04:30:00.000+01:002010-06-28T20:06:51.898+02:00

Editor's note: my blog host has become stupid and made it impossible to blog as I've been doing for more than five years. This has made three of the four posts I put up for Kerala invisible to most readers. I'm fixing this now by acting like I posted some of them in different months, though indeed they were all created on 1st March 2010. I'll fix this more permanently, some time soon I hope, by

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-98610082166436532009-12-25T04:12:00.000+01:002009-12-25T04:12:00.849+01:00

Happy holidays, friends. Here in Lamka it's a sunny and cold Christmas morning; fresh cinnamon rolls have popped out of the toaster oven now and I'm enjoying a quiet morning with tea and roll before the rest of the house awakes. Spread all around the table here in the living room are the spoils of my glorious christmas which will be happily shared with my colleagues. This embarrassment of riches

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-19825730219163518082009-11-28T04:45:00.000+01:002009-11-28T04:37:59.171+01:00

smw, slt has taken a break from work in Manipur to visit several of India's justly famous tourist towns and monuments on an extended vacation to Rajasthan and the Uttar Pradesh cities of Agra and Fatehpur Sikri, which with Delhi served as capitals for the six Mughal emperors. Being out and about in this enormous country with its vast and rich history and cultural variety has humbled me with

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-287109708113520282009-11-28T04:40:00.000+01:002009-11-28T04:50:35.396+01:00

In the fort at Kumbalh Garh, I heard again the soft swish of a camel's feet across the ground, and got to share it with Howard to whom I'd been describing it as we saw wild or feral camels wandering the desert from our car as we traversed the desert from Jodhpur to Osian to Jaisalmer and back again, then down to Kumbalgarh en route to Udaipur. Accustomed to the sharp clippety-clop of horses'

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-91697642189462050182009-11-28T04:30:00.000+01:002009-11-28T04:44:55.391+01:00

Kumbalh Garh (fort at Kumbalh is what it means) sits high up above rows of ramparts in the hills north of Udaipur. It's not one of the top forts of Rajasthan, but it's certainly quite impressive. There's a story in why we saw it: as we departed Jodhpur for Udaipur in the morning, Gene mentioned to our driver the temples Rankapur, which we were to see that day according to the schedule. He hadn't

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-9418362582115387092009-11-28T02:50:00.000+01:002009-11-28T02:51:54.520+01:00

At the center of the modern state of Rajasthan, on the eastern edge of the Great Thar Desert, lies Mehrengarh Fort surrounded by the blue city within the outer walls. Our travel books were quite correct when they told us that the Fort is magnificent - rising high above the surrounding city and plain, a beautiful and impenetrable fort that never once fell to an enemy army during centuries of

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-35097722053349962862009-11-28T02:20:00.000+01:002009-11-28T02:23:04.637+01:00

Osian is a small town halfway between Jodhpur & Jaisalmer. Sitting in the middle of the desert, somewhat off the faster but longer road that connects Jodhpur up to Jaisalmer, its tourist magnets are two lovely temples built during Osian's years as an important trading center, roughly 12th to 18th century CE. Since we were three traveling together, we had the luxury of our own car & driver, so we

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-24800106253495025392009-11-15T17:37:00.000+01:002009-11-15T18:21:51.989+01:00

Though I must have known at one point or another, I was surprised anew that the great Mughal empire, of which I've heard and read so much and whose art and architecture have so inspired my imagination, really only encompassed the reign of six different rulers -- naturally, there were still some Mughal rulers after Aurangzeb more or less destroyed the empire through his religious intolerance and

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-54382431691363523212009-09-28T16:32:00.000+02:002009-09-28T16:43:35.035+02:00

smw, slt is proud to present your first views of where we're now based. Just about all of the photos above and below were taken on the several long Sunday rambles I and my colleagues here at MSF-Manipur have taken in recent weeks. You'll notice that we've once or twice experienced the monsoons first-hand; you'll also notice that we've been befriended by some local youth at a waterfall and even a

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-75323520218193174302009-09-06T12:18:00.020+02:002009-09-06T14:26:11.803+02:00

OK, peeps, it's been a month or so since last I put up a bit of what I've seen or done since arriving in India five weeks ago. As some of you may know or recall, I had about a ten-day wait in Delhi while the paperwork was finalized to allow me to come over and work here in truly lovely (but really not yet tourist-ready, trust me) Manipur. The second weekend of my Delhi sojourn was ... well ...

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-4919474543648981042009-08-06T03:45:00.001+02:002009-08-06T07:26:15.415+02:00

After a lifetime of reading about India, admiring its history and art and culture and food, wondering how I'd like it if I actually ever physically visited, and generally allowing my imagination to linger long and often on this corner of the world which has been birthplace to many great religions, cradle of many important cultures and historical developments, and so on...well, smw, slt is simply

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-90779872442197295792009-08-06T03:05:00.000+02:002009-08-06T03:10:01.545+02:00

For anyone curious about the sequence of flights and stays that brought me where I am now, it was: boat from Star Island to mainland NH, bus to Boston, plane to Cleveland with connection to LA, some time in LA, plane to JFK, a day in NYC, plane to Paris with connection to Amsterdam, several days of meetings and such in Amsterdam, plane to London with connection to Delhi. Whew, I get tired even

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-60672919797183602642009-07-20T21:30:00.000+02:002009-07-21T16:22:08.451+02:00

...which title simply means that smw, slt has spent a stupendously wonderful week at a meditation retreat on Star Island, Isles of Shoals, off the rocky windswept coast of New Hampshire and Maine. To be precise, in the photo above, all the foreground is in New Hampshire, but once you get to the end of the pier, the dock and everything past it -- the other islands -- are in Maine. Anyhoo: I've

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-388124824214309572009-07-20T21:20:00.000+02:002009-07-21T16:21:26.232+02:00

I like to say that Provincetown, a combination old-colonial fishing village, national seashore town and artsy high-concept tourist resort catering to a very wide range of tourists from whale-watching families to lesbian bikers to gay circuit boys and most things in between, is my single favorite spot on the US East Coast. The sand dunes and tidal mudflats of the national seashore are crisscrossed

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-38612806888614763292009-06-30T00:20:00.000+02:002009-06-30T16:25:53.093+02:00

This is it, folks...smw, slt is leaving NYC after a year on these shores. Tomorrow I'll start moving again, exploring a few parts of the US before I leave in late July to take up my next post with MSF. There'll be more information later about where I'm going, and probably another blog entry from my travels in the US before I leave for briefing in Amsterdam, but I want to take a moment to honor

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-49526679811319303712009-06-30T00:15:00.000+02:002009-06-30T16:25:05.814+02:00

The Hudson Valley is a great visual joy north of New York City, and one of its historical highlights is Hyde Park, home of Franklin Delano and Eleanor Roosevelt. Hop on Metro North from Grand Central or 125/Harlem for a gorgeous ride that takes you into the Bronx and along the riverbanks with views of Manhattan and New Jersey as the train tracks hug the shoreline nearly all the way up to

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-63813680930026088252009-03-05T12:15:00.001+01:002009-03-05T12:34:48.921+01:00

So that's it, folks. Two months in Australia and New Zealand (plus the bonus couple nights on Tahiti) over and done with, back to the life I was leading last year in NYC and environs. Here are all the pics I'm gonna give you from New Zealand. (There were more, but you're glad I've pared it down even this far, aren't you?) I was gonna wax political, about carbon footprints and how even

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-29598394557842668772009-03-05T11:15:00.001+01:002009-03-05T11:27:15.798+01:00

As Tongariro Crossing - and the summit of Ngauruhoe - was the literal and figurative peak of my personal experience in New Zealand, the Kepler Track was the climax of my first two weeks, which were spent with my dearest bestest friends Howard & Gene. This is a four-day, three night trek from hut to hut; in high season the huts have gas burners so you don't have to carry your stove, just your

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-74476539657768696832009-03-05T11:00:00.000+01:002009-03-05T11:09:28.416+01:00

Doubtful Sound is so named because James Cook, when he first encountered it, doubted he could navigate his ship both in and out safely, past the swells and rocks at the ocean entrance to this very long and stunning fiord. (Our guide said that technically a sound is one thing, but this is a fiord, which is another thing, only when they named it the English language hadn't yet adopted the term

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-43567195753213860482009-03-05T10:50:00.001+01:002009-03-05T10:52:28.743+01:00

The first big hike Gene, Howard & I did was the Kaikoura Coast Track, a three-day walk through gorgeous coastal forests, hills and beaches just south of the Kaikoura Peninsula and Kaikoura Coastal Range (the highest of the mountains, just above, to the right of which extends a little finger into the ocean, the peninsula). When asked, later on, what our best experiences so far in NZ had been, all

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-65325156495041693972009-03-05T10:40:00.000+01:002009-03-05T10:41:43.086+01:00

Rakiura, or Stewart Island, is the third-largest of NZ's islands, and it is (while still of significant heft) a very great deal smaller than either North or South Island. (Get this: the South Islanders like to call South Island 'The Mainland' since it's bigger than North Island. Umm, guys, you're both islands. No mainland here. Deal.) Anyhoo -- Rakiura is now mostly national park, aside from a

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-57149450657845899722009-03-05T10:25:00.000+01:002009-03-05T10:28:45.571+01:00

Seals, little blue penguins, and above all the impressive northern royal albatross are indeed what Dunedin and it's adjacent Otago Peninsula are best known for. That and University of Otago, NZ's oldest and (by acclamation, it seems) best University. Dun is to Gaelic as Borough is to English, so Dunedin is on some level an ode to Edinborough. The center of the city itself is a pretty little

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-83584276644652513222009-03-05T10:10:00.000+01:002009-03-05T10:13:34.278+01:00

At the north end of South Island is a region called Marlborough. It's New Zealand's main (of several, for such a small country) wine-growing region, and home to Picton (a little town where the ferries from North Island arrive), and Nelson -- to which Howard, Gene & I flew after regaining our bearings with a day or two in Auckland and a walk on Rangitoto Island (below -- I'm messing with your

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-49295650363664662672009-03-05T09:50:00.000+01:002009-03-05T09:56:47.708+01:00

It's the national capital, at the bottom of North Island with easy access (several ferries a day plus lots of flights) to the South Island. Being on the Cook Straight which separates North from South, it's mighty windy much of the time. It's on a very large and nearly circular bay; if you imagine the exit from the circle as being roughly opposite downtown Wellington and about - oh, 15km away? -

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-11694157123692718152009-03-05T09:30:00.000+01:002009-03-05T09:33:11.855+01:00

From Wellington I headed north to Tongariro National Park...pics of which you've already seen because, well, it's just more interesting, now isn't it? :-) This was the first time I got to take the train here in NZ and I was charmed: the rail is all narrow-gauge, so the trains are a bit narrower to begin with than in Europe or other places I've gone by train. But one must also remember it's NZ:

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-27787931000796061292009-03-05T09:15:00.000+01:002009-03-05T09:19:20.704+01:00

Greater Auckland, whose emblematic ferry building is above and whose favorite beach (Piha and Lion Rock) are below, holds about 1/3 of all the 4.2 million inhabitants of New Zealand. Yup, New Zealand is a bit larger than the United Kingdom and has about 1/15 as many inhabitants. Auckland itself -- fairly interesting city but one doesn't come to NZ for its cities, really. :-)Rangitoto is a recent

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-43962502814993936462009-02-02T14:23:00.014+01:002009-02-02T15:22:26.699+01:00

smw, slt is about to finish a glorious month in Australia and fly on to New Zealand. NZ will be wonderfully beautiful and exciting as well, I'm sure...but I'm feeling sad about the end of this fantastic first book of my excellent adventure. I've put great effort these past 48 hours or so to getting all my Australia photos sorted and quality-controlled so I can put them up here before I go take a

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-56597503513582629012009-02-02T11:31:00.007+01:002009-02-02T14:20:04.120+01:00

Perth, the capital of Western Australia, sits on the Indian Ocean rather closer to Indonesia than to the large eastern cities of Australia. It's really quite far from just about anywhere else. And quite lovely, as you see!...I loved that in the botanic gardens in Perth, plants from the rest of Australia -- everything east of Western Australia, which is shown yellow here -- are covered in one

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-5869729787497815122009-02-02T11:00:00.000+01:002009-02-02T11:30:10.673+01:00

Federation Square is the recently-created center of Melbourne, home to the Ian Potter Center which houses the Australian portion of the National Gallery of Victoria -- Aboriginal and European-tradition art by artists from or tied to this continent. There's an enormous public space there where crowds hang out to watch live concerts, cultural events, and so on. During the Austrlian Open, matches

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-24131050556698075532009-02-02T09:18:00.006+01:002009-02-02T10:03:10.433+01:00

Coastal Victoria, south and west of Melbourne, was home in the late 1800s and early 1900s to many isolated farmsteads, all more or less cut off from each other and from Melbourne or regional hubs like Geelong by the ruggedness of the coastline and the lack of any good connecting road along the coast. Farmers near the coast rode north/inland, then along the main road, then back down to the coast

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-69596513468660744182009-02-02T00:00:00.000+01:002009-02-02T00:43:17.670+01:00

Which brings us to tennis. The original idea of this extended vacation in Australia started with a fantasy of watching the Australian Open in person, which idea sprang from comments heard over the years from players and commentators that the Australian is the most relaxed, friendly, and open (and easy-to-get-good-tickets) of the Grand Slam tournaments. (As the common stereotypes go, Wimbledon is

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-11370179207388746172009-01-31T04:24:00.008+01:002009-01-31T15:57:35.928+01:00

It's frightfully early Sunday morning, 1st February, in Melbourne. The worst of this week's heat wave seems to have passed, and coming back from the tennis this evening it was actually rather pleasant. I've been traveling again for more than a month now; a month that, as always when one's having tons of new experiences all the time, and regularly seeing new places, learning new things, and

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-27670431525792008872009-01-13T22:29:00.008+01:002009-01-13T23:12:11.693+01:00

Hello my friends. smw, slt is in Perth, Western Australia at the moment. In a few short hours we'll hop in our rental car and head south to explore what's reputed to be a gorgeous area of coastline, mountains and wineries in the southwestern portion of this vast and varied state. More about WA in some future post, but for now I've managed to get caught up on some photos from the tail end of 08

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-22260855856369715052009-01-13T22:23:00.001+01:002009-01-13T22:29:09.734+01:00

Above, a few shots taken around town in Papeete, the capital of French Polynesia and the main town on Tahiti. You can also see Moorea, a next-door island, in these shots as you could from the beach at my hotel, which is several miles back east or counter-clockwise around the island. Below are several shots of Papeete's Town Hall, all decked out for Christmas -- I took these shots on December 31st

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-35450080277036869812009-01-13T22:01:00.000+01:002009-01-13T22:14:55.175+01:00

After a lovely family and food filled holiday hosted at my temporary apartment in NYC, I hopped a flight for LA on Monday the 29th, where I had a bit of time to walk around my old haunts of Venice and Marina del Rey before hopping a flight the following day for Tahiti. It being one of those classically gorgeous LA winter days, with seaside temperatures in the perfect range, and skies more than

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-66230979144255503052008-11-24T13:02:00.004+01:002009-03-12T03:33:38.762+01:00

hey peeps. smw, slt has to start with an apology again: here come a few more philosophical entries. skip the words if you wish, and enjoy the photos. i'll try to put in captions, in italic, to explain the pics every now and then. long story short -- here come a bunch of photos taken around the neighborhood in upper manhattan where i've been living since june, other photos of the new york harbor

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-22482811806065668932008-11-24T13:01:00.000+01:002008-11-24T16:09:08.709+01:00

Above and below are photos of probably my very favorite single spot in or near NYC, Storm King Sculpture Park north and west of the city in the mountains west of the Hudson. Given my (and my family's)longstanding love of this spot and its incomparable collection of beauty both natural and human-created, I felt nearly guilty when I put shots of last December's visit to the (also lovely, but not as

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-22632555278951110792008-11-24T13:00:00.000+01:002008-11-24T16:08:22.003+01:00

The day after our national election on 4th November, I flew to LA. The main purpose, honestly, was to retrieve winter clothes from storage: and the trip came not a moment too soon; these last weeks I've worn little other than the sweaters, jackets, mittens, scarves and other annoyingly bulky items I dug out of the hidden corners of my storage space. It's been quite horrifyingly cold lately in NYC

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-13747606270314757092008-11-08T04:24:00.001+01:002008-11-08T16:58:02.601+01:00

This is an open letter I sent this week to Bill Mallone, Chair and CEO of the Park City, Utah Chamber of Commerce. Mallone (whose name, it seems, was misidentified by the AP), was quoted by the AP as noted below. In reading his quote, those who don't know how LDS (latter-day saints, what the mormon church calls itself) works should understand that Utah is more than 60% mormon, the Utah mormons

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-72914371664364546412008-08-28T15:11:00.001+02:002008-09-02T19:27:22.293+02:00

Being in California usually makes me feel better and more whole: more of my friends are there, it's easier to do the things I most love to do (hiking, tennis, outdoor swimming all year long, etc.), and though I'm slowly rebuilding a social network in and around NYC, in general it's just easier for me to find things to do and people to do them with in SF or LA than here in NYC. To my long-planned

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-24286635284435736452008-08-28T14:18:00.000+02:002008-08-28T15:00:45.233+02:00

If it's early August, the Cabrillo Music festival is happening in Santa Cruz and other areas in and around Santa Cruz, just south of the SF Bay Area. My friends Howard & Gene go most years, and I join them whenever I'm close enough to make it feasible. The final concert each year takes place at the old Spanish mission at San Juan Bautista, a small town south of San Jose -- hence the bell tower,

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-91436057536189384082008-08-28T04:28:00.000+02:002008-08-28T14:16:09.492+02:00

In June, and again in August, I spent some time in LA - a city many outsiders love to imagine as little more than a smog-ridden, traffic-overwhelmed sprawl. While it does have plenty of smog, traffic and sprawl, those of us who've lived there and learned to love the city know its many hidden jewels in the mountains and along the coastlines of California. With my friends George, Pierre and Ed I

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-32775734452593046622008-08-14T19:35:00.000+02:002008-08-14T19:35:34.802+02:00

SMW, SLT has been quiet lately. My life has gone from fast-lane multi-continent blur during May and June to ... well, dealing with architects and contractors in between runs to the recycling center and carrying junk from Mom's basement to the curb for big-trash day. I've settled in Washington Heights in upper Manhattan, and between June and August I've spent some time in my old haunts in SF and

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-89667005119162526262008-06-09T18:43:00.000+02:002008-06-09T19:28:53.077+02:00

Well, my friends, here you have it. So Much World, So Little Time has landed back in the US of A. If I can do some early-morning lounging in a comfy bed in my good friends’ George & Pierre’s beachside bungalow in Venice, enjoying streaming KRNN on the headphones and uploading photos to the blog via WiFi, then it seems to suggest I’m no longer in one of the developing-world towns I’ve lately

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-82830400967168958502008-06-09T17:43:00.001+02:002008-06-09T18:35:45.501+02:00

...by the pier, the end of the dirt track that links Krakrama with some of the surrounding villages, though none of them are linked by road to any outside, larger towns. (More about that below...)Above and below, a small fishing camp in the vast riverine network of the Niger Delta.Below and above are a number of shots from trips into some of the creek or riverine towns I visited. The shots are

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-72932236112432063732008-06-08T23:38:00.000+02:002008-06-08T23:45:15.530+02:00

...These shots just don't fit very well into any other category I could think of, so here they are: two shots of me and Clara being mobbed by a group of kids at one of the schools we did some outreach to (above, early -- the camera had just come out so not too many kids figured out that pix were being taken; below, just a few short seconds after...), a couple of the primary-school kids right next

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-38229414703137642112008-06-08T23:30:00.000+02:002008-06-08T23:32:22.319+02:00

Often, departing expats spend virtually half a day taking photos with members of the staff and saying farewell. My friends who've noted my quiet disappearances from parties know that farewells are not my favorite thing, so it won't surprise anyone that I slipped out of Teme rather quietly on my last day. My replacement was there and well settled in the job; my debriefing and weekend in Paris

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-4008512721364671652008-06-08T23:09:00.000+02:002008-06-08T23:18:58.284+02:00

Leaving Port Harcourt and Nigeria, I headed to Paris for what should have been some debriefing and a chance to catch up with my friends Howard & Gene, who'd kindly rearranged their schedule so we could spend a little time together after not seeing each other for nine months. As always, they rather overhwelmed me with their generosity and kindness -- it was such a treat, after eight months of

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-65110030145026882222008-06-08T15:05:00.000+02:002008-06-08T23:05:22.518+02:00

I am deliberately leading with this photo, to remind us all that life does go on even in the midst of such tragedy as a 7.9 or 8.0 earthquake. Returning to the US with its continued willful obsession with the tragic events of 9/11 and sheer stubborn unwillingness to, as it were, move on...well, it seems there are things our leaders and fellow citizens could learn from the good folks of Sichuan

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-50081082570942073912008-06-08T14:40:00.000+02:002008-06-08T22:39:03.165+02:00

During my brief time in Chengdu it was pretty much long work days and no down time really. On the very last day, though, I managed to slip out with my delightful colleague Sarah for a visit to the famous Panda Research & Breeding facility on the outskirts of Chengdu city. There's a larger, more forested and wild place a good deal farther outside the city, but that one was out of the question.

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-87818832914060287032008-04-06T13:30:00.001+02:002008-04-06T13:38:15.112+02:00

I managed, rather at the last minute, to get away from PH for a week's relaxation before returning for the finish-line sprint. I decided that Ghana and Senegal (two common vacation destinations for my colleagues), though indubitably more culturally interesting and classically West-African, simply did not sound anywhere near as haven-like and utterly relaxing as the equatorial island nation of

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-18199773997190763202008-04-06T13:15:00.001+02:002008-04-06T13:11:58.901+02:00

...left to right: Sao Tome e Principe (with two stars for - I assume - the two main islands, Portugal (home base of the resort company), EU, Pestana (the resort company). Below are four shots of the paths on which I spent many hours wandering and exploring the island. After making my way down from the airport (more about that further below...sorry, Ondrej, I just can't bring myself to stick to

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-4380437997833914592008-04-06T13:05:00.000+02:002008-04-06T13:11:35.916+02:00

The resort, Pestana Ecuador, is by far the largest source of income on the island. However there is a small village whose inhabitants collect bananas, coconuts and other forest products, seem to grow a few crops in surrounding fields, and take their fishing boats out from the village pier (behind the straw-thatched shelter, above). The village only has a handful of inhabitants, so it's really

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-6921686176783896162008-04-06T12:30:00.000+02:002008-04-06T12:26:17.336+02:00

Remember that my daily life in PHC hardly exposes me to the natural world. So I reveled in these little elements of the natural world encountered on my meanderings around the island. Above: a highly unflattering self-portrait, but how many chances does one have to photograph oneself literally straddling the equator? So I shall swallow my pride, and post it nonetheless. Below: the equator

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-69169173783265171662008-04-06T12:25:00.000+02:002008-04-06T12:18:06.580+02:00

Ilheu Rolas sits off the southern tip of Sao Tome, larger of Sao Tome e Principe's two main islands. The airport is just outside the eponymous capital and largest city. Sao Tome became the second Portuguese-colonial city I've visited -- after Macau in 1983 when it, like Sao Tome, had that ineffable beauty and faded charm that somehow comes with genteel, unpretentious colonial architecture that's

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-71746118946112861742008-03-02T09:15:00.000+01:002008-03-02T09:12:35.825+01:00

so much world, so little time has been busy since we last checked in with you around the end-of-year holidays. Thus, without our noticing it, more than two months have passed. Our day job -- you know, that trauma center/hospital because of which we're all here -- takes up at least six days out of seven, and on the seventh day...well, we tend to do yoga, read and sleep. Though lately I've taken to

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-29595637105360280232008-03-02T08:50:00.000+01:002008-03-02T08:45:00.529+01:00

Colonial buildings are another highlight of Calabar -- from the lovely house above (palace in fact, as noted in the sign to your right) -- to the stone church across the street from it. Or the museum below, housed in one of the finest colonial buildings in town.The Calabar Museum is praised by Lonely Planet as far and away the best museum in Calabar. It really is an excellent and interesting

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-15604366570733917382008-03-02T08:30:00.001+01:002008-03-02T08:26:53.465+01:00

A fantastic highlight of Calabar is the two small primate-related NGOs based there. Pandrillus, aka the Drill Ranch, was the first to start up - founded in the early 80s by an American woman named Liza with whom I had the pleasure of watching the drill monkeys (above) and chimpanzees (below) pace their compounds and - in the case of the chimps - frolic in the water. (Shortly after I wandered

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-46848184906809764002008-03-02T08:05:00.000+01:002008-03-02T08:03:03.931+01:00

This flag, as you've noticed, quite captivated me -- it's visible from so many parts of town, and provides a unifying central image as one wanders the streets and paths of Calabar, something I was so delighted to be able to do that I ignored the sweat drenching my shirt and walked endlessly. Herewith a few more shots of contemporary Calabar. The first time I saw -- in Port Harcourt -- a book

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-46254797976847526862008-03-02T07:45:00.002+01:002008-03-02T09:25:26.390+01:00

One of the joys of spending a weekend in Calabar is the chance to actually see a little bit of the rest of Nigeria. Working six days in the hospital, and being pretty limited in terms of social and outing options on the seventh day, we tend to wear grooves in the road between the house, the hospital, and the one or two restaurants and bars where we spend almost all our time. Heading toward

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-27356078956699720052007-12-23T10:56:00.000+01:002007-12-23T12:36:01.418+01:00

So just like that, another year has managed to slide by. This life I’m living has many odd consequences, one of which is the telescoping of life (the period between date A and date B goes by so rapidly!) which, in my oft-befuddled brain, occurs simultaneously with a high level of intensity that makes me feel, often, as though I’ve lived a few lifetimes in a few months. So yes, as I enjoy the

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-48673456464421241382007-12-23T10:15:00.000+01:002007-12-23T12:11:15.963+01:00

On the Yorkshire dales outside Westfield is an absolutely lovely sculpture park which occupies many acres and includes a number of delightful indoor galleries and - in contrast to Storm King, to my & Mom's great joy following an afternoon wandering the wet and wooly hills - a cozy cafeteria. Henry Moore, creator of the sculpture above, grew up in this landscape, which over the years has been

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-72235042335731048352007-12-23T09:49:00.000+01:002007-12-23T12:05:49.648+01:00

The Tate Modern has a great Louise Bourgeois exhibit (would you have spent a day in London to see it, if you'd known, Mom?) which spans the length and breadth (broader than I, who'd only seen her later sculptures at Storm King, really appreciated) of her inspiring career. This spider, commissioned (who knew? not I!) for the opening of the Tate Modern, was almost the only overlap between this and

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-14284886768184236802007-12-22T18:02:00.000+01:002007-12-23T11:46:38.513+01:00

After my fabulous vacation in England, I returned via the overnight flight to Abuja, where I sat around the terminal for a couple hours while waiting for my connection down to Owerri. I could tell immediately that the drier winter weather had blown in, and it felt rather nice. In this sunrise shot from the Abuja airport, note the striped painting on the curbs - this is really a sweet thing I've

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-1101932954198747702007-11-04T12:46:00.000+01:002007-11-11T18:00:14.296+01:00

My most dedicated reader, fellow blogger and all-round conscience Ondrej has told me that he's 'eagerly watching the blog for new posts,' so I've decided to pen a rambling entry that tries to capture a few wee slices of life here. Warning: it gets philosophical, and it ain't short. But it's what I got: with movements restricted, work hours long, and PHC not even Colombo, let alone Angkor Wat, I'm

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-75270912231415250752007-10-19T19:17:00.000+02:002007-10-19T19:29:51.003+02:00

OK, peeps: these are they: the first thought-out blog entries from Nigeria. Nearly a week in the making, nearly that much in the posting...amazing, huh? Enjoy! Lord only knows when I'll muster the patience to try so many uploads again... As you'll maybe be able to tell, it was all written nearly a week ago, and I've been back in PHC for a while now. So happy to get back to my fabulous project and

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-85698984963598740852007-10-19T19:06:00.000+02:002007-10-19T19:16:59.277+02:00

That's the Hilton in question. Why did we have to break off our upload? Wherefore uploadus interruptus, you ask? so much world, so little time ran out of time – did I name my blog well or what? So many photos, so little bandwidth – even on what the Hilton’s ‘business center’ advertised as dsl broadband! Without an internet cable, we found ourselves (split personalities: another benefit to the

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-51710561098052955892007-10-19T18:40:00.000+02:002007-10-19T19:06:21.495+02:00

I'm pretty sure that's Aso Rock, after which the presidential house in named in common parlance here; the tall concrete thing in the background before the mountain is probably the house of parliament. Don't ask me why, in a city where I was allowed to run or walk freely, I did not walk closer to inspect. I have no answer other than laziness.But said gleaning had not yet taken place in Africa, and

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-69887715133530034862007-10-19T18:25:00.000+02:002007-10-19T18:40:17.953+02:00

Abuja is the Nigeria’s capital. It is neither Nigeria’s most important (population, business, international connections, etc.) city, nor its best-known city; both of those honors belong to Lagos, the “metropolis of Africa.” An article in some American newspaper talked about how many Lagosians refer to Lagos at “the New York City of Africa.” From all I’ve heard, Lagos is big, brash, loud, full of

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-82430743035709588492007-10-19T17:40:00.000+02:002007-10-19T18:12:53.308+02:00

Abuja, I think, is rather like the idea of Nigerian nationhood: as much an aspiration as a reality. The dominant view when one enters the city from the west – where the airport is; also, it happens, where both MSF’s office and its expat residence are located – is of two large and dramatic religious structures: the National Mosque, and the National Christian Center. These two elegant and dramatic

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-79951726975896767902007-10-19T07:50:00.000+02:002007-10-19T08:09:33.021+02:00

The highlight, so far, of the two days I’ve now spent on my R&R weekend here in Abuja was the jog I was free to take around town yesterday morning, from which all of these photos of Abuja come. While my life in Port Harcourt is very rewarding on the professional level – I enjoy my colleagues both national and expatriate very much, I find the work both challenging and rewarding, and I am relieved

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-77855555971279690552007-10-19T07:40:00.000+02:002007-10-19T07:48:11.811+02:00

So I ran around town on a Saturday morning, just after the second day of Id al Fitr, the most important (?) festival in the Muslim calendar, marking as it does the end of Ramadan. And Abuja reminds me of the new parts of Nanning, where I lived more than two years ago: wide, grandiose boulevards empty of cars and nearly devoid of people. Imposing government buildings, with nary a restaurant,

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-53328673583440897462007-10-19T07:25:00.000+02:002007-10-19T07:39:28.782+02:00

Ok, I admit it, putting this up as my last photo from Abuja is a bit cynical. This building is the Nigerian Communications Commission. I don't know what their mandate is, but I suppose it has - on paper and in theory at least? - something to do with...getting good communications going in Nigeria, maybe? HAH! See notes below about the "high-speed" internet at the Hilton "business center." If

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-68942893216675031712007-10-14T13:43:00.000+02:002007-10-14T13:57:25.740+02:00

...two more images did make the transfer intact: above, an Owerri sunset taken from the hotel room in which I spent my first night in Nigeria, since my flight from Abuja to Owerri landed too late to make it down to Port Harcourt before dark. Below: me at dinner one evening recently. Don't I look like the happy little guy I am? :-)...Well, friends, here we are at the Hilton in Abuja. 45 minutes

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-48218433681089897962007-10-14T13:31:00.000+02:002007-10-14T13:40:15.016+02:00

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-60349308432744184902007-10-14T13:03:00.000+02:002007-10-14T13:30:53.636+02:00

Port Harcourt is the capital of Rivers State and the center of Nigeria’s petroleum industry. It is, I think, the third-largest city in Nigeria after Lagos and Kano. (But don’t quote me on that one.) It is certainly the major metropolis of the vast Niger delta, one of the largest remaining areas of mangrove swamp in the world, and home to enormous reserves of light and sweet crude oil which is

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-50352859547950165822007-09-09T15:31:00.000+02:002007-09-09T16:31:52.622+02:00

...Against all this, it almost seems incredible that smiles come so readily to Nigerian faces. An international survey in 2003 announced that Nigerians were in fact the happiest people on earth. The important role that relgion plays in everyday life is a major factor, along with the natural entrenpreneurship of one of Africa's best-educated populations. Ill-served by repeated governments,

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-49397981057813033232007-08-03T23:31:00.000+02:002007-08-03T23:40:39.866+02:00

OK, peeps, here they are: the final pix and entries you'll be seeing for some time. We start with photos taken in the latter stages of my cross-country trek in late May: these were all taken at rest stops in Colorado and Utah, aside from the beautiful sunset shot just below, which was taken from the moving vehicle just north of St. George, Utah, the evening before my arrival in LA. Driving across

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-12689808935307139422007-08-03T23:14:00.000+02:002007-08-03T23:52:22.691+02:00

My storage space is now fully reorganized, and more belonging are being unloaded to those who need them more than I do, such that it leaves room for my bike and a few other items that hung out in the Shansi House basement at Oberlin and in my brother’s basement for the past two years (thanks, Deb & Carl; thanks, Steve).My various personal affairs and projects are wrapped up, t’s seem mostly

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-79051931431940806672007-08-03T23:05:00.001+02:002007-08-08T00:54:05.535+02:00

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-85742997938383304282007-08-03T22:53:00.000+02:002007-08-08T00:56:30.818+02:00

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-24825409621785260832007-08-03T21:54:00.000+02:002007-08-03T22:53:17.648+02:00

One summer highlight was Mom's visit, during which she convinced me to take her to Watts Towers, which I'd somehow imagined to be a 1960s-era urban renewal housing project, like coop city. NOT! For more than thirty years, a relatively uneducated Italian immigrant named Simon Rodia single-handedly constructed and decorated everything that you see here - to thank his adoptive country for providing

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-50404232765713176272007-08-03T21:28:00.000+02:002007-08-03T21:49:32.462+02:00

In history class, I learned that US history in the 19th and 20th centuries included several episodes of isolationist sentiment. One example was the American public’s unwillingness to get involved in what it viewed as a European war right up until the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor in December 1941, years after the war started in Europe. What I find curious about the current context in the US is

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-58011552074430901202007-08-03T21:20:00.001+02:002007-08-03T21:28:13.915+02:00

But where am I going with all this soapbox, you ask…quite rightly. My experience of the US is of an almost surreally ripe, rich and spoiled country utterly isolated from the realities with which so much of the world lives every day. On one hand, I love the ease of life here, the ready availability of all consumer commodities, and so on. But the issues, the concerns, the things that Americans

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-17765669413569713032007-08-03T21:09:00.001+02:002007-08-03T21:17:33.767+02:00

I’m so grateful that I get to live in places where luxuries are still luxuries, and the essential elements of everyday life are simple person-to-person contact, over a fire or a candle’s light or the rising sun’s rays. Three months a year here in luxury land are more than rich enough for my blood right now, and I’m already beginning to long for what I’m sure will be a simpler life of

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-70119057840480598192007-08-03T20:42:00.000+02:002007-08-03T22:47:30.579+02:00

Pasadena's Gamble House, an early 1900s Arts & Crafts masterpiece by Greene & Greene that Mom & I toured as well.I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t want to, deny my basic American-ness. It’s who I am, it’s where I grew up, and it’s what I know best. But I remain chagrined that so few Americans, citizens of the country that so dominates global decisions and economies, bother to get really outside our

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-7860586481354453872007-08-02T19:26:00.000+02:002007-08-02T19:54:19.112+02:00

It’s pretty much a year since I suddenly left China to work in Sri Lanka, and a bit less than a year since the drama of being nearly kicked out of Sri Lanka engulfed my life. Having now spent a full two months in LA, surrounded by the many good acquaintances, tennis hitting partners and others who formed the warp and weft of my LA life prior to joining MSF, I’ve realized how many people aren’t

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-81284849117386884622007-05-18T07:21:00.000+02:002007-05-18T13:07:08.509+02:00

Well, that’s that. Outta Sri Lanka, outta Europe, back in the US, which I must say feels as unreal to me (after ten days) as any place else I’ve been in the world. Actually, in many ways more unreal since the US floats through the world in a bubble of its own making, blithely ignorant of what so much of the rest of the world experiences and lives. Here we still drive hummers and SUVs and don’t

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-64307969950691071912007-05-18T07:08:00.000+02:002007-05-18T07:21:30.124+02:00

Nah, I guess I’ll say a bit about the Europe trip. :-) ColomboàDubaiàParis went reasonably well; despite a four-hour delay leaving Colombo in the aftermath of the below-mentioned small-aircraft strike on the air base next to the CMB airport, I just barely made the connection at DXB and landed on time at CDG. Debriefing at MSF Paris: check, a good experience all round. Ten days of class at MSF:

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-82646744948896682652007-05-18T04:34:00.000+02:002007-05-18T04:47:01.493+02:00

I met a wonderful smart and handsome guy named Marc (see, Lola, I DO try...) on Easter Sunday, and the next day we took a walking tour throug the Paris he wanted to show me. The photos of me nicely posed on a bridge over the Seine (above), and in front of La Colonne at Place Vendome and the Palais de Justice (below) were taken by him. Sadly, we lost touch after that. :-( What I realized I love

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-53634735630896562512007-05-18T04:18:00.000+02:002007-05-18T04:34:46.825+02:00

After two days of debriefing in Paris, I hopped Eurostar for a weekend at Peter’s place (thanks, as always, Peter) in London. Watching the rolling green fields slide past outside my window, I realized I’d also missed the kind of rolling green glaciated landscapes in which I’d grown up. Though Sri Lanka and China are both remarkably beautiful and I was constantly thrilled and excited to live

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-55463606876262937712007-05-18T04:05:00.000+02:002007-05-18T04:13:58.385+02:00

Mom and I took a boat tour on the Seine, giving us a chance to see the city from river-level and get to know the bridges up close and personal. I've run by the river many times but hadn't previously been on it.

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-81316614545347349262007-05-18T04:01:00.001+02:002007-05-18T04:04:35.465+02:00

One of many advantages to working with a Paris-based organization is that I get many friends who live in Paris, and get to spend enough time with and around them that I get to know neighborhoods that are off the tourist map. Above and below: views of the St. Antoine canal and its locks. Also above: Chateau de Vincennes seen from the Bois de Vincennes, and a monument you might recognize. :-)

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-90847451804011065272007-05-18T03:55:00.000+02:002007-05-18T03:59:30.417+02:00

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-35725685456256860242007-05-18T03:27:00.001+02:002007-05-18T03:54:55.724+02:00

Mom and I had a great deal of fun exploring the city. The early- morning bridge by the Grand Palais is from an easter- morning run I took before Mom arrived, but the other three - rather obviously - are from our time together. Notre Dame looked especially lovely surrounded by blossoming trees which were encouraged by the incredibly unseasonal warmth and dryness that France (along with Germany and

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10788765.post-71556986387822528162007-05-18T03:20:00.001+02:002007-05-18T03:40:29.195+02:00

Notre Dame's famous rose window.

Paul Brockmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04463397544054906109noreply@blogger.com0